THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES
- fN \ r v -V.;
THE
ANALOGY OF RELIGION
NATURAL AND REVEALED,
TO THE
CONSTITUTION AND COURSE OF NATURE.
BY JOSEPH BUTLER, LL. D.
LITE LORD BISHOP OF DURHAM.
WITH AN
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
SY ALBERT BARNES.
ju (f>na!ogi<e) hsec vis eat, ut id quod dubium eat, ad aliquid timile de quo noo
'(juseritur, reftrat; ut inceria eertis probet. . ..Quint. lint. Oral. 1. 1. c. 6.
FIFTEENTH EDITION.
NEW-YORK:
PUBLISHED BY MARK H. NEWMAN.
199 BROADWAY.
1843.
Entered accor.l ng to the Act of Congress, lu the yea* 1841, by DAYTON &
SAXTOS, in the Clerk's Office of the District Crwit of the So'itaern Dis-
trict of the State of New York.
RIGHT HONOURABLE
CHARLES, LORD TALBOT,
BARON OP HEN SOL,
LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR OF GREAT BRITAIN,
THE FOLLOWING
TREATISE
IS, WITH ALL RESPECT, INSCRIBED
ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF THE HIGHEST OBLIGATIONS
TO THE LATE
LORD BISHOP OF DURHAM,
AND TO
HIMSELF,
BY HIS LORDSHIP'S MOST DUTIFUL,
MOST DEVOTED,
AND MOST HUMBLE SERVANT,
JOSEPH BUTLER.
2056288
CONTENTS.
NTROTMJCTORY ESSAY, by Albert Barnes, . . . VH
Lns Or- DR. BCTI.KK, bv Dr. Kippis, l>3
I'UEKACE, by Bisnop Halifax, ....... 69
AnvKRTisKMKNT, . . i \ ' . . . . 103
i-NTR DCCTION, 105
PART I.
OP NATURAL RELIGION.
CHAP. I.
Jt a Future Lite, . . . . . . . . II >
CHAP. 11.
?t the Government of God by Regards and Punishments; and
particularly of the latter, . 130
CHAP. III.
L>f the Moral Government of God, ... . 140
CHAP. IV.
Of a State of Probation, as implying Trial, Difficulties, and
Danger, .......... 160
CHAP. V.
Of a State of Probation, as intended for Moral Discipline and
improvement, . . .. n ^* L . . . . 1G7
CHAP. VI.
On the Opinion of Necessity, considered as influencing Practice, 186
CHAP. VII.
Of the Government of God, considered as a scheme, or Con-
stitution, imperfectly comprehended, 199
CONCLUSION, 209
^*
CONTENTS.
PART. II.
OF REVEALED RELIGION.
CHAP. L
Pag!.
Of the Importance of Christianity, ... 2 16
CHAKII
VI the supposed Presumption against a Revelation considered
as Ai iruculous, . ...
CHAP. III.
Of our Incapacity of judging what were to be expected in a
Revelation; and the Credibility, from Analogy, that it must
contain Things appearing liable to Objections, . . . 23 1
CHAP. IV.
Of Christianity, considered as a Scheme, or Constitution, imper-
fectly comprehended, ' '.-- -< ' ---i" 'it. . . 24'.'
CHAP. V.
Of the ^.articular System of Christianity ; the appointment of a
Mediator, and the Redemption of the World by him, . . 2">b
CHAP. VI.
Of the Want of Universality in Revelation; and of Ihe s'ipposed
Deficiency in the proof of it, 272
CHAP. VII.
Of the canicular evidence for Christianity. .... 288
CHAP. VIII.
Of the objections which may be made against arguing from the
Analogy of Nature to Religion, 317
CONCLUSIOV, 327
TWO DISSERTATIONS ON PERSONAL IDENTITY.
Dissert 1 331
Dissert. II 310
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY
BY ALBERT BARNES.
[NOTE. The following Essay was originally prepared as a Review ot
Butler's Analogy, for the Quarterly Christian Spectator, and appeared m
that work in the Numbers for December, 1830, and March, 1831. With
some sliprht alterations and additions, it is now reprinted as an Introductory
Essay to this Edition of the Analogy.]
PHiladelphia, Sept. 6, 1832.
IN directing the attention of our readers to the great work
whose title we have placed at the head of this article, we suppose
we are rendering an acceptable service chiefly to one class. The
ministers of religion, we presume, need not our humble recom-
mendation of a treatise so well known as Butler's Analogy. It
will not be improper, however, to suggest that even our clerical
readers may be less familiar than they should be, with a work
which saps all the foundations of unbelief; and may, perhaps,
have less faithfully carried out the principles of the Analogy, and
interwoven them less into their theological system, than might
reasonably have been expected. Butler already begins to put on
the venerable air of antiquity. He belongs, in the character of
his writings at least, to the men of another age. He is abstruse,
profound, dry, and, to minds indisposed to thought, is often wea-
risome and disgusting. Even in clerical estimation, then, his
work may sometimes be numbered among those repulsive monu-
ments of ancient wisdom, which men of this age pass by indis-
criminately, as belonging to times of barbarous strength and
unpolished warfare.
But our design in bringing Butler more distinctly before the
public eye, has respect primarily to another class of our readers.
In an age pre-eminently distinguished for the short-lived produc-
tions of the imagination ; when reviewers feel themselves bound
to serve up to the public taste, rather the deserts and confectiona-
ries of the literary world, than the sound ar-d wholesome fare of
other times ; when, in many places, it is even deemed stupid and
old-fashioned to notice an ancient book, or to speak of the wis-
dom of our fathers ; we desire to do what may lie in our power
u> stay tne neadiong propensities of the times, and recal the pub
lie mind to the records of past wisdom. We have, indeed, no
blind predilection for the principles of other days. We bow down
before no opinion because it is ancient. We even feel and
believe, that in all the momentous questions pertaining to morals,
politics, science, and religion, we are greatly in advance of past
ages. And our hearts expand with joy at the prospect of still
greater simplicity and clearness, in the statement and defence
of the cardinal doctrines of the refornation. Most of the monu-
nil INTRODUCTORY ESSA1.
ments of past wisdom, we believe capable of improvement in
these respects. Thus we regard the works of Luther, Calvin,
Beza, and Owen. We look on them as vast repositories of
learning, piety and genius. In the great doctrines which these
works were intended to support, we do firmly believe. Still,
though we love to linger in the society of such men : and though
our humble intellect bows before them, as in the presence of
transcendent genius, yet we feel that in some things their views
were darkened by the habits of thinking of a less cultivated age
than this ; that their philosophy was often wrong, while the doc-
trines which they attempted to defend by it were still correct;
and that even they would have hailed, on many topics, the
increased illumination of later times. Had modern ways of
thinking been applied to their works; had the results of a deeper
investigation into the laws of the mind, and the principles of
biblical criticism, been in their possession, their works would
have been the most perfect records of human wisdom which the
world contains.
Some of those great monuments of the power of humau
thought, however, stand complete. By a mighty effort of genius,
their authors seized on truth ; they fixed it in permanent forms;
they chained down scattered reasonings, and left them to be sur-
veyed by men of less mental stature and far feebler powers. It
is a proof of no mean talent now to be able to follow where they
lead, to grasp in thought, what they had the power to originate.
They framed a complete system at the first touch; and all that
remains for coming ages, corresponds to what Johnson has said
of poets in respect to Homer, to transpose their arguments, new
name (heir reasonings, and paraphrase their sentiments.* The
works of such men are a collection of principles to be carried into
every region of morals and theology, as a standard of all other
views of truth. Such a distinction we are disposed to give to
Butler's Analogy; and it is because we deem it worthy of such a
distinction, that we now single it out from the great works of the
past, and commend it to the attention of our readers.
There are two great departments of investigation, respecting
the " analogy of religion to the constitution and course of nature.'
The one contemplates that analogy as existing between the
declarations of the Bible, and ascertained facts in the structure
of the globe, the organization of the animal system, the me-
morials of ancient history, the laws of light, heat, and grcvila-
.ion, the dimensions of the earth, and the form and motion of
the heavenly bodies. From all these sources, objections have
been derived against revelation. The most furious attacks have
been made, at one time by. the geologist, and at another by (he
astronomer: on one pretence by the antiquarian, and on another
by the chymist, against some part of the system of revealed truth.
Yet never have any assaults been less successful. Every effort
of this kind has resulted in the establishment of this g r eat truth,
Johnson. Preface to ?hakspesre.
.fTROVmCTORY ESSAY. t j
lhal no man has ye; commenced an investigation of the works
of nature, for -the purpose of assailing revelation, who did not
altimately exhibit important facts in its confirmation, just in
proportion to his eminence and success in his own department
of inquiry. We are never alarmed, therefore, when we see an
infidel philosopher of real talents, commence an investigation
into the works of nature. We hail his labours as destined ulti-
mately to be auxiliary to the cause of truth. We have learned
that here Christianity has nothing to fear; and men of science,
wo believe, are beginning to understand that here infidelity has
nothing to hope. As a specimen of the support which Chris-
tian it/ receives from the researches of science, we refer our
readers to Ray's Wisdom of God, to Paley's Natural Theology,
and to Dick's Christian Philosopher.
1'he other department of investigation to which we referred, is
that which rel .es to the analogy of revealed truth to the actual
facts exhibited in the *noral government of th world. This is the
department which Butler has entered, and which he has so suc-
cessfully explored. It is obvious that the first is a wider field in
regard to the number of facts which bear on the analogy; the
latter is more profound and less tangible in relation to the great
subjects of theological debate. The first meets more direc.tly the
open and plausible objections of the blasphemer; the latter
represses the secret infidelity of the human heart, and silences
more effectually the ten thousand clamours Avhic.h are accustomed
to be raised against the peculiar doctrines of the Bible. The first
is open to successive advances, and will be so. till the whole
physical structure of the world is fully investigated and known.
The latter, we may almost infer, seems destined to rest where it
now is, and to stand before the world as complete as it ever will
be, by one prodigious effort of a gigantic mind. Each successive
chymist, antiquarian, astronomer, and anatomist, will throw light
on some great department of human knowledge, to be moulded
to the purposes of religion, by some future Paley, or Dick, or
Good ; and in every distinguished man of science, whatever may
be his religious feelings, we hail an ultimate auxiliary to the
cause of truth. Butler, however, seems to stand alone. No
adventurous mind has attempted to press his great principles of
thought, still further into the regions of moral inquiry. Though
the subject of moral government is better understood now than
it was m his day ; though light has been thrown on the doctrines
of theology, and a perceptible advance been made in the know-
ledge of the laws of the mind, yet whoever now wishes to know
" the analogy of religion to the constitution and course of nature,"
has nowhere else to go but to Butler, or if he is able to apply
the p' nviplcs of Butler, he has only to incorporate them with his
s>wn reasonings, to furnish the solution of those facts and diffi-
culties that " perplex mortals." We do not mean by this, that
Butler has exhausted the subject. We mean only lhat no man
has attempted to carry it beyond the point where he left it; and
that his work, though not in our view as complete as modern
X JNTRODtrCTOhr ESSAY.
habits of thought would permit it to be, yet stands like one 01
those vast piles of architecture commenced in the middle ages
proofs of consummate skill, of vast power, of amazing wealth, yet
in some respects incomplete or disproportioned, but which no one
since has dared to remodel, and which no one, perhaps, has had
either the wealth, power, or genius, to make m^e complete.
Of Butler, as a man. little is known. This is one of the many
cases where we are compelled to lament the want of a full and
faithful biography. With the leading facts of his life as a parish
priest and a prelate, we are indeed made acquainted. But here
our knowledge of him ends. .Of Butler as a man of piety, of the
secret, practical operations of his mind, we know little. Now it
is obvious, that we could be in possession of no legacy more
Valuable in regard to such a man, than the knowledge of the
secret feelings of his heart; of the application of his own modes
of thinking to his own soul, to subdue the ever-varying forms of
human weakness and guilt; and of his practical way of obvia-
ting, for his personal comfort, the suggestions of unbelief in his
own bosom. This fact we know, that he was engaged upon his
Analogy during a period of twenty years. Yet we know nothing
of the effect on his own soul, of the mode in which he blunted
and warded off the poisoned shafts of infidelity. Could we see
the internal organization of his mind, as \ve can now see that of
Johnson, could we trace the connexion between his habits of
thought and his pious emotions, it would be a treasure to tbe
world equalled perhaps only by his Analogy, and one which we
may in vain hope now to possess. The true purposes of biogra-
phy have been hitherto but little understood. The mere external
events pertaining to great men are often of little value. They
are loitliout the mi:id, and produce feelings unconnected with any
important purpo^ps of human improvement. Who reads now
with any emotion except regret that this is all he can read of
such a man as Butler, that he was born in 1692, graduated at
Oxford in 1721, preached at the Rolls till 1726, was made bishop
of Durham in 1750, and died in 1752 ? We learn, indeed, that
he was high in favour at the university, and subsequently at
court ; that he was retiring, modest and unassuming in his
deportment; and that his elevation to the Deanery of St. Paul's,
and to the princely See of Durham, was not the effect of ambi-
tion, but the voluntary tribute of those in power to transcendent
talent and exalted, though retiring, worth. An instance of his
modest and unambitious habits, given in the record of his life,
is worthy of preservation, and is highly illustrative of his charac-
ter. For seven years he was occupied in the humble and labo-
rious duties of a parish priest, at Stanhope. His friends regret-
ted his retirement, and sought preferment for him. Mr. Seeker,
an intimate friend of Bu f ler, being made chaplain to the king, in
1732, one day in conversation with Queen Caroline took occasion
to mention his friend's name. The queen said she thought lie
was dead, and asked Archbishop Blackburn if that was not the
case. His reply was, " No, madam, but he is buried." He wa
INTRODUCTORY ESS AT. X
thus raised again to notice, and ultimately to high honours, in
the hierarchy of the English church.
Butler was naturally of a contemplative and somewhat melan-
'ht-iy turn of mind. He sought retirement, therefore, and yet
needed society. It is probable that natural inclination, as well
as the prevalent habits of unbelief in England, suggested the
plan of his Analogy. Yet though retiring and unambitious, he
was lauded in the days of his advancement, as sustaining the
ppisvopal office with great dignity and splendour; as conducting
(he ceremonies of religion wall a pomp approaching the gran-
deur of the Roman Catholic form of worship ; and as treating the
neighbouring clergy and nobility with the " pride, pomp, and cir-
cumstance," becoming, in their view, a minister of Jesus, trans-
formed into a nobleman of secular rank, and reckoned amo:,g
the great oJiicers of stale. These are, in our view, spots in the
life ol Buller ; and all at empts to conceal them, have only rendered
them more glaring. No authority of anliqui y, no plea of UK
grandeur of imposing riles, can justify lire pomp and circum-
stance appropriate to an English prei.uical bishop, or invest witn
sacred authority the canons of a church, that appoints the hum
ble ministers of him who had not where to lay his head, to the
splendours of a palace or the pretended honours of an archiepisco-
pal ihruue to a necessary alliance, under every danger lo per-
jeoiial and minis erial character, with profligate noblemen, or
intriguing and imperious ministers. But Buller drew his title to
memory in subsequent ages, neither from the tinsel of rank, the
statf and lawn ofutiice, uor the attendant pomp and grandeur aris-
ing from the possession of one of the richest benerices in Eng-
land. Buller ihe prelate will be forgotten. Buller the author <>J
(Jif. Analf^,/ \viil live to the last recorded time.
In the feu- remains of the life of Butler, we lament, still more
than any t-iing we have mentioned, that we learn nothing of his
habits of study, his mode of investigation, and especially the pro-
cess by which he composed h.a Analogy. We are told indeed
that it combines the results of his thoughts for twenty years, and
his observations and reo^'ng during that long period of his life.
He is said to have writter aid re-written different parts of it, 'o
have studied each word, and phrase, until it expressed precisely
his meaning and no more. It bears plenary evidence, that it
must have been written by such a condensing and epitomizing
process. Any man may be satisfied of this, who attempts to
express the thoughts in other language than that employed in
tiie Analogy. Instinctively the sentences and paragraph^ will
swell out to a much greaier size, and defy all the powers \\e
possess to reduce them to their primitive dimensions, unle:^
they be drivm within the preci-e enclosures prescribed by the
mind of Buller. We regret in vain that this is all our know-
ledge of the mechanical and mental process by which this hook-
was composed. We are not permitted to see him at his toil, t&
mark the workings of his mind, and to learn the art of looking
intensely at a thought, until we see it standing alone, aloof from
INTRODUCTORY
all attendants, and prepared fora permanent location where the
author intended to fix its abode, to be comtemplated as he view
ed it, in all coming ages. W r e can hardly repress bur indigna>
tion, that those who undertake to write the biography of such
gifted men, should not tell us less of their bodies, their trappings,
their honours and their offices, and more of the workings of tnfi
spirit, the process f subjecting and restraining the native wan*
derings of the m d. Nor can we suppress the sigh of regre<
that he ha? not i nself revealed to us, what fio other man could
have done ; and .milted subsequent admirers to the intimacy ol
friendship, and to a contemplation of the process by which the
Analogy was conceived and executed. Over the past however it
is in vain to sigh. Every man feels that hitherto we have had
but little Biography. Sketches of the external circumstances ol
many men we have genealogical tables without number, and
without end chronicled wonders, that such a man was born and
died, ran through such a circle of honours, and obtained such a
mausoleum to his memory. But histories of mind we have not;
and for all the great purposes of knowledge, we should know as
much of the man, if we had not looked upon the misnamed
biography.
We now take leave, of Butler as a man, and direct otrr
thoughts more particularly to his great work. Those were dark
and portentous times which succeeded the reign of the second
Chat I*e. That voluptuous and witty monarch, had contributed
more than any mortal before or since his time, to fill a nation
with infidels, and debauchees. Corruption had seized upon the
highest orders of the state ; and it flowed down OB all ranks of
the community. Every grade i 19V had caught the infection
of the court. Profligacy is alternately the parent and the child
of unbelief. The unthinking multitude of courtiers* and flatterers,
that fluttered around the court of Charles had learned to scoff at
Christianity, and to consider it as not worth the trouble of anx-
ious thought. The influence of the court extended over the na-
tion. It soon iafectetf the schools and professions : and perhaps
there has not been a time in British history, when infidelity had
become so general, and had assumed a form so malignant. It
had attached itself to dissoluteness, deep, dreadful, and universal.
It was going hand in hand with all the pleasures of a profligate
^tturt, it was identified with all that actuated the souls of Charles
iinJ his ministers; it was the kind of infidelity which fitted an
unthinking age scorning alike reason, philosophy, patient
thought, and purity of morals. So that in the language of But-
ler, " it had come to be taken for granted by many persons, that
Christianity is not so much as a subject of investigation, but that
it is now at length, discovered to be fictitiors, and accordingly
they treat it, as if in the present age, this were an agreed point
an>ong all people of discernment, and nothing remained but to
set it up a a principal subject of mirth and ridicule, as it were
oy way of reprisals for its having so long interrupted the plea-
sures of the world." In times of such universal profligacy and
ESSAY. XIII
itifidelify arose in succession, Locke, Newton, and Butler, the
TWO former of whom we need riot say have been unsurpassed ir:
great powers of thought, and in the influence which they ex'
erted on the sentiments of mankind. It needed such men to
bring back a volatile generation to habits of profound thought in
the sciences. It needed such a man as Butler, in our view not
}. ferior in profound thought to either, and whose wofks will
have a more permanent effect on the destinies of men, than both
to arrest the giddy steps of a nation, to bring religion from the
palace of a scoffing prince and court to the bar of sober thought;
and to show that Christianity was not undeserving of sober
inquiry. This was the design of the Analogy. It was not so
much to furnish a complete demonstration of the truth of reli-
gion, as to show that it could not be proved to be false. It was
to show that it accorded with a great, every where seen, system
of things actually going on in the world ; and that attacks made
on Christianity were to the same extent assaults on the course of
nature, and of nature's God. Butler pointed the unbeliever to a
grand system of things in actual existence, a world with every
variety of character, feeling, conduct and results a system of
things deeply mysterious, yet developing great principles, and
bearing proof that it was under the government of God. He
traced certain indubitable acts of the Almighty in a course of
nature, whose existence could not bedenied. Now if it could bt
shown that Christianity contained like results, acts, and princi-
ples ; if it was a scheme involving no greater mystery, and
demanding a correspondent conduct on the part of man, it would
be seen that it had proceeded from the same author. In other
words the objections alleged against Christianity, being equally
applicable against the course of nature, could not be valid. To
show this, was the design of Butler. In doing this, he carneri
the war into the camp of the enemy. He silenced the objec or's
arguments; or if he still continued to urge them, showed him
that with equal prop..ety they could be urged against the acknow-
ledged course of things, against his own principles of conduct
on oilier subjects, against what indubitably affected his condition
here, and what might therefore affect his doom hereafter.
We are fond of thus looking at the Bible as part of one vast
plnn of communicating truth to created intelligences. We know
it is the fullest, and most grand, of all God's ways of teaching
*nen, standing amidst the sources of information, as the sun does
amidst the stars of heaven, quenching their feeble glimmerings
in the fu'ness of its meridian splendour. But to carry forward
the illustration, the sun does, indeed, cause the stars of night to
"hide their diminished heads," hut we see in both but one sys-
tem of laws; and whether in the trembling of the minutest orb
that emits its fiint rnys to us from the farthest bounds of space..
or the full light of the sun nt noon-d^y, we tmce the hand of the
same God. and feel tint "all arc but p;irts of one stupendous
whole." Thus it is will) revelation. We know thnt its truths
comprise all that the world elsewhere contains, that its authority
XIV INTRODTTCTORT ESSAT.
's supreme over all the other sources of knowledge, and all
the other facts of the moral system. But there are other
sources of information-^a vast multitude of facts that we
expect to find in accordance with this brighter effulgence
from heaven, and it is ihese facts which the Analogy brings to
the aid of revelation. The Bible is in religion, what the tele-
scope is in astronomy* It does not contradict any thing before
known ; it does not annihilate any thing before seen ; it carries
the eye forward into new worlds, opens it upon more splendid
fields of vision, and displays grander systems, Where we thought
there was but the emptiness of space, or the darkness of illimit-
able and profound night; and divides the milky way into vast
clusters of suns and stars, of worlds and systems. In all the
boundlessness of these fields of vision, however, does the tele-
scope point us to any new laws of acting, any new principle by
which the universe is governed? The astronomer tells us not.
It is the hand of the same God which he sees, impelling the new
worlds that burst on the view in the immensity of sp:ice, with
the same irresistible and inconceivable energy, and encompass-
ing them with the same clear fields of light. So we expect to
find it in revelation. We expect to see plans, laws, purposes,
actions and results, uniform with the facts in actual existence
before our eyes. Whether in the smiles of an infant, or the
wrapt feelings of a seraph; in the strength of manhood, or the
power of Gabriel ; in the rewards of virtue here, or the crown of
glory herenfter, we expect to find the Creator acting on one grand
principle of moral government, applicable to all these facts, and
to be vindicated by the same considerations.
When we approach the Bible, we are at once struck with a
most striking correspondence of plan to that which obtains in the
natural world. When IPP teach theology in our schools we do it
by system, by form, by technicalities. We frame what we call
a " body of divinity," expecting all its parts to cohere and agree.
We shape and clip the angles and points of our theology, till they
shall fit, like the polished stones of the temple of Solomon, into
their place. So when we teach astronomy, botany, or geogra-
phy, it is by a regular system before us, having the last discove-
ries of the science located in their proper place. But how differ-
ent is the plan, which, in each of these departments, is pursued
by infinite wisdom. The truths which God designs to teach us,
lie spread over a vast compass. They are placed without much
apparent order. Those of revelation lie before us, just as the
various facts do, which go to make up a system of botany or
astronomy. The great Author of nature has not placed all flow-
ers in a single situation, nor given them a scientific arrange-
ment. They are scattered over the wide world. Part bloom on
the mountain, pan in the valley; part shed their fragrance near
the running stream ; part pour their sweetness in the desert air
"in the solitary waste where no man is;" part climb in vines to
giddy heights, and part are found in the bosom of the mighty
waters. He that forms a theory of botany must rlo it, therefore
INTRODUCTORY ESSA5T. XV
with hardy toil. He will find the materials, not the system, made
ready to his hands. He will exhaust his life perhaps in his
labour, before the system stands complete. Why should we not
expect to find the counterpart of all this in religion? When we
look at the Bibie, we find the same state of things. At first but
a ray of light beamed upon the dark path of our apostate parents,
wandering from paradise. The sun that had stood over their
heads in the garden of pleasure, at their fall sunk to the west
and left them in the horrors of amoral midnight. A single ray,
in the promise of a Saviour, shot along their path, and directed
to the source of day. But did God reveal a whole system ? Did
he tell them all the truth that he knew? Did he tell all that we
know? He did just as we have supposed in regnfd to the first
hotanist. The eye was fixed on one truth distinctly. Subse-
quent revelations shed new light; advancing facts confirmed
preceding doctrines and promises; rising prophets gave confiitn-
ation to the hopes of men ; precepts, laws, and direct revelations
rose upon the world, until the system of revealed truth is now
complete. Man has all he can have, except the facts which the
progress of things is yet to develope in confirmation of the system ;
just as each new budding flower goes to confirm the just princi-
ples of the naturalist, and to show what the system is. Yet how
do we possess the system? As arranged, digested, and reduced
to order? Far from it. We have the book of revelation just
as we have the book of nature. In the beginning of the Bible,
for example, we have a truth abstractly taught, in another part
illustrated in the life of a prophet; as we advance it is confirmed
by the fuller revelation of the Saviour or the apostles, and we
find its full development only when the whole book is complete.
Here stands a law; there a promise; there a profound mystery,
unarranged, undigested, yet strikingly accordant with a multitude
of correspondent views in the Bible, and with as many in the
moral world. Now here is a mode of communication, which
imposture would have carefully avoided, because detection, it
would foresee, must, on such a plan, be unavoidable. It seems
to us that if men had intended to impose a system on the world,
it would have been somewhat in the shape of our bodies ol divi-
nity, and therefore very greatly unlike the plan which we actu-
ally find in the Bible. At any rate, we approach the Scriptures
with this strong presumption in favour of its truth, that it accords
precisely with what we see in astronomy, chymistry, botany,
and geography, and that the mode of constructing systems
in all these sciences, is exactly the same as in dogmatical
theology.
We have another remark to make on this subject. The bota-
nist does not shape his facts. He is the collector, the arranger,
cot the originator. So the framer of systems in religion slioula
ne nnd it is matter of deep regret that such he has not. been. He
should be merely the collector, the arranger, not the originator
of the doctrines of the gospel. Though then we think him of
some importance, yet we do not set a high value on his labours.
ty INTRODUCTORY
We honour the toils of a man who tells of the uses, beauties and
medicinal properties of the plant, far more than of him who
merely declares its rank, its order, its class in the Linnsean sys-
tem. So in theology^ we admire the greatness of taind which
can bring out an original truth, illustrate it, and show its proper
bearing on the spiritual interests of our race, far more than we
tlo the plodditig chiseller who shapes it to its place in his system.
Ft makes no small demand on our patience, when we see the sys-
tem-maker remove angle after angle, and apply stroke after
stroke, to some great mass of truth which a mighty genius has
Struck out, bin which keen-eyed and jealous orthodoxy will not
admit to its proper bearing on the souls of men, until it is located
in a creed, and cramped into some frame-work of faith, that has
been reared around the Bible. Our sympathy with such men as
Butler, and Chalmers, and Foster, and Hall, is far greater than
with Turretine or Ridgely. With still less patience do we listen
10 those whose only business it is to shape and reduce to pre-
scribed form ; who never look at a passage in the Bible or a fact
in nature, without first robbing it of its freshness, by an attempt
to give it a sectarian location : who never stumble on an ori-
ginal and unclassified idea, without asking whether the system-
maker had left any niche for the late-born intruder; and who
applies to it all tests, as to a non-descript substance in chymistry,
in order to fasten on it the charge of an affinity with some
rejected confession, or some creed of a suspected name. This is
to abuse reason and revelation, for the sake of putting honour on
creeds. It is to suppose that the older creed-makers had before
them all shades of thought, all material and mental facts, all
knowledge of what mind has been and can be, and all other know-
ledge of the adaptedne<s of the Bible, to every enlarged and fluc-
tuating process of thought. It is to doom the theologian to an
eternal dwelling in Greenland frost and snows, instead of sending
him forth to breathe the mild air of freedom, and to make him a
large-minded and fearless interpreter of the oracles of God.
Tt is not our intention to follow the profound author of the
Analogy through his laboured demonstrations, or to attempt to
offer an abridged statement of his reasoning. Butler, as we have
nlrendy remarked, is incapable of abridgement. His thoughts
are already condensed into as narrow a compass, as the nature
ol language will admit. .All that we purpose to do, is to give a
Specimen of the argument from analogy in support of the Chris-
tian religion, without very closely following the book before us.
The main points at issue between Christianity and its opposers
are, whether there is a future state ; whether our conduct here
will affect our condition there; whether God so controls things
fs to reward and punish; whether it is reasonable to act with
\eferenre to our condition hereafter; whether the favour of God
is to be obtained with, or without the mediation of another;
whether crime and suffering are indissolubly united in the moral
government of God ; and whether Christianity is a scheme in
accordance with the acknowledged laws of the universe, and is
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XVJ>
supported by evidence so clear as to make it proper to act tn the
belief of its truth.
Infidelity, in its proper form, approaches man with the decla-
ration that there cannot be a future state. It affirms, often with
much apparent concern, that there can be no satisfactory evi-
dence of what pertains to a dark, invisible, and distant world;
that the mind is incompetent to set up landmarks along its future
course, and that we can have no certain proof that in that dark
abyss, we shall live, act, or think at all. It affirms that the
whole analogy of things is against such a supposition. We have
no evidence, it declares, that one of all the mi.lions who have
died, has lived beyond the grave. In sickness, and old age, it is
said the body and soul seem alike to grow feeble and decay, and
both seem to expire together. That they ever exist separate, it
is said, has not been proved. That such a dissolution and sepa-
rate existence should take place, is affirmed to be contrary to the
analogy of all other things. That the soul and body should be
united again, and constitute a single being, is said to be without
a parallel fact in other things, to divest it of its inherent impro-
bability.
Now let us suppose for a moment that, endued with our pre-
sent powers of thought, we had been united to bodies of far fee-
bler frame and much more slender dimensions, than we now
inhabit. Suppose that onr spirits had been doomed to inhabit
the body of a crawling reptile, scarce an inch in length, prone on
the earth, and doomed to draw out our little length to obtain loco-
motion from day to day, and scarce noticeable by the mighty
beings above us. Suppose in that lowly condition, as we con-
templated the certainty of our speedy dissolution, we should look
upon our kindred reptiles, the partners of our cares, and should
see their strength gradually waste, their faculties grow dim, their
bodies become chill in death. Suppose now it should be revealed
to us, that those bodies should undergo a transformation; that at
no great distance of time they should start up into new being;
that in their narrow graves there should be sen the evidence of
returning life ; and that these same deformed, prone, and decay-
in 2: frames, should be clothed with the beauty of gaudy colours,
be instinct with life, leave the earth, soar at pleasure in a new
element, take their rank in a new order of being?, be divested of
all that was offensive and loathsome in their old abode in the
eyes of other beings; and be completely dissociated from all the
plans, habits, relations and feelings of their former lowly condi-
tion. We ask whether against this supposition there would not
lie all the objections, which have ever been alleged against the
doctrine of a resurrection, and a future state 1 Yet the world has
lon^ been familiar with changes of this character. The changes
which animal nature undergoes to produce the gay colours of the
butterfly, have as much antecedent improbability as those per-
taining to the predicted resurrection, and for aught that we can
see, are improbabilities of precisely the same nature. So in a
case still more in point. No t\vo states which revelation has
2*
XVlll INTRODUCTORY ESSAT.
presented, as actually contemplated in the condition of man, are
more unlike than those of an unborn infant, and of a hoary man
ripe with wisdom and honours. To us it appears that the state
of the embryo, and that of Newton, Locke, and Bacon, have at
least, as much dissimilarity, as those between man here, and
man in a future state. Grant that a revelation could be made to
such an embryo, and it would be attended with all the difficulties
that are supposed to attend the doctrine of revelation. That this
unformed being should leave the element in which it commences
its existence ; that it should be ushered into another element
with powers precisely adjusted to its new state, and useless in its
first abode like the eye, the ear, the hand, the foot ; that it
should assume relations to hundreds, and thousands of other
beings at first unknown, and these, too, living in what to the
embryo must be esteemed a different world ; that it should be
capable of traversing seas, of measuring the distances of stars,
of guaging the dimensions of suns ; that it could calculate with
unerring certainty the conjunctions and oppositions, the transits
and altitudes of the vast wheeling orbs of immensity, is as
improbable as any change, which man, under the guidance of
revelation, has yet expected in his most sanguine moments.
Yet nothing is more familiar to us. So the analogy might be
run through all the changes which animals and vegetables exhi-
bit. Nor has the infidel a right to reject the revelations of
Christianity respecting a future state, until he has disposed
of facts of precisely the same nature with which our world
abounds.
But are we under a moral government? Admitting the pro-
bability of a future slate, is the plan on which the world is
actually administered, one which will be likely to affect our
condition there? Is there any reason to believe, from the
analogy of things, that the affairs of the universe will ever in
some future condition, settle down into permanency and order ?
That this is the doctrine of Christianity, none can deny. It is a
matter of clear revelation indeed it is the entire basis and
structure of the scheme, that the affairs of justice and of law,
are under suspense; that "judgment now lingereth and damna-
tion slumbereth ;" that, crime is for the present dissociated from
wo, for a specific purpose, viz. that mortals may repent and be
forgiven ; and that there will come a day when the native indis-
soluble connexion between sin and suffering shall be restored,
and that they shall then travel on hand in hand for ever. This
is the essence of Christianity. And it is a most interesting
inquiry, whether any thing like this can be found in the actual
government of the world.
Now it cannot be denied, that on this subject, men ai^G thrown
into a most remarkable a chaotic mass of facts. The world is
so full of irregularity the lives of wicked men are apparently
so often peaceful and triumphant virtue so often pines neg-
lected in the vale of obscurity, or weeps and groans under the
iron hand of the oppressor, that it appals men in all their
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. , XIX
attempts to reduce the system to order. Rewards and punish-
ments, are so often apparently capricious, that there is presump-
tive proof, in the mind of the infidel, that it will always continue
so to be. And yet what if, amidst all this apparent disorder
there should be found the elements of a grand and glorious sys-
tem, soon to rise on its ruins ? What if, amidst all the triumphs
of vice, there should still be found evidence to prove that God
works by an unseen power, but most effectually, in sending
judicial inflictions on men even now? And what if, amidst
these ruins, there is still to be found evidence, that God regards
virtue even here, and is preparing for it appropriate rewards
hereafter ; like the parts of a beautiful temple strewed and scat-
tered in the ruins of some ancient city, but still if again placed
together, symmetrical, harmonious, and grand?
Christianity proceed- on the supposition that such is the fact;
and amidst all the wreck of human things, we can still discover
certain fixed resulis of human conduct. The consequences of an
action do not terminate with the commission of the act itself,
nor with the immediate effect of that act on the body. They
travel over into future results, and strike on some other, often
some distant part of our earthly existence. Frequently the true
effect of the act is not seen except beyond some result that may
be considered as the accidental one ; though for the sake of that
immeiliate effect the act may have been performed. This is
strikingly the case in the worst forms of vice. The immediate
effect, for example, of intemperance, is a certain pleasurable
sensation for the sake of which the man became intoxicated.
The true effect, or the effect as part of moral government, travels
beyond that temporary delirium, and is seen in the loss of health,
character, and peace, perhaps not terminating in its conse-
quences during the whole future progress of the victim. So the
direct result of profligacy may he the gratification of passion ;
of avarice, Hie pleasurable indulgence of a groveling pro-
pensity; of ambition, the glow of Teeling in splendid achieve-
ments, or the grandeur and pomp of the monarch, or the war-
rior ; of dueling, a pleasurable sensation that revenge has been
taken for insult. But do the consequences of these deeds ter-
minate here? If they did, we should doubt the moral govern-
ment of God. But in regard to their ultimate effects, the uni-
verse furnishes but one lesson. The consequences of these
deeds travel over in advance of this pleasure, and fix themselves
deep beyond human power to eradicate them, in the property
health, reputation or peace of the man of guilt; nay, perhaps
the consequences thicken until we take our last view of him, as
he gasps in death, and all that we know of him, as he goes
from our observation, is that heavier thunderbolts are seen trem-
bling in the hand of God, nnd pointing their vengeance at the
head of the dying man. What infidel can prove that some of
the results, at least, of that crime, may not travel on to meet
him in his future being, and beset his goings there ?
Further, as a general law the virtuous are prospered, and the
XX t INTRODUCTORY ESSAT*
wicked punished. Society is organized for this. Laws are
made for this. The entire community thro.us its arms around
the man of virtue; and in like manner, the entire community,
by its laws, gather around the transgressor. Let a man attempt
to commit a crime, and before the act is committed, he mny
meet with fifty evidences, that he is doing that which will in-
volve him in ruin. He must struggle with his conscience. He
must contend with what he knows to have been the uniform
judgment of men. He must keep himself from the eye of jus-
ice, and that very attempt is proof to him that there is a moral
government He must overcome all the proofs which have been
set up, that men approve of virtue. He must shun the p e.:e.iL-e
of every man, for from that moment, every member of the com-
munity, becomes, of course, his enemy. He must assume dis-
guises to secure him fiom the eye of justice. He must work his
way through the community during the rest of his life, with the
continued consciousness of crime ; eluding by arts the officers of
the law, fearful of detection at every step, and never certain that
at some unexpected moment, his crime n.ay not be revealed, and
the heavy arm of justice fall on his guilty head. Now all this
proves that in his view he is under a moral government. Flow
Ifnows he, that the same system of things may not meet him
hereafter; and that in some future world the hand of justice may
not reach him ? The fact is sufficiently universal to be a proper
ground of action, that virtue meets with its appropriate reward
and vice is appropriately punished. So universal is this fact,
that more than nine tenths of all the world, have confidently
acted on its belief. The young man expects that industry and
sobriety will be recompensed in the healthfulness, peace, and
honour of a venerable old age. The votary of ambition expects to
climb the steep, "where fame's proud temple shines afar," and
to enjoy the rewards of office or fame. And so uniform is the
administration of the world in this respect, that the success oi
one generation, lays the ground for the confident anticipations of
another. So it has been from the beginning of time, and so it
will be to the end of the world. We ask why should not man,
with equal reason, suppose his conduct now may affect his des-
tiny, at the next moment or the next year beyond bis death?
Is there any violation of reason in supposing that the soul may
be active there, and meet there the results of conduct here ? Can
it be proved that death suspends, or annihilates existence ? Un-
less it can, the man who acts in ins yuuiu with reference to his
happiness at eighty years of age, is acting most unwisely if he
does not extend his thoughts to the hundredth, or the thousandth
year of his being.
What if it should be found, as the infidel cannot deny it maybe,
that death suspends not existence, so much as one night's sleep ?
At the close of each day, we see the powers of man prostrate.
Weakness and lassitude come over all the frame. A torpor
elsewhere unknown in the history of animal nature, spreads
through all the faculties. The eyes close, the ears become deaf
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XXI
to hearing, the palate to taste, the skin to touch, the nostrils to
smell, all the faculties are locked in entire insensibility, alike
strangers to the charms of music, the tones of friendship, the
beauties of creation, the luxury of the banquet, and the voice of
revelry. The last indication of rmnd to appearance is gone, or
the indications of its existence are far feebler than when we see
man die in the full exertion of his mental powers, sympathizing
in feelings of friendship, and cheered by the hopes of religion.
Yet God passes his hand over the frame when we sleep, and
instinct with life, again we rise to business, to pleasure, or to
ambition. But what, are the facts which meet us, as the result
of the doings of yesterday ? Have we lost our hold on those
actions? The man of industry yesterday, sees to-day, his fields
waving in the sun, rich with a luxuriant harvest. The pro-
fessional man of business finds his doors crowded, his ways
thronged, and multitudes awaiting his aid in law, in medicine,
or in the arts. The man of virtue yesterday, reaps the rewards
of it to-day, in the respect and confidence of mankind; and in
the peace of an approving conscience, and the smiles of God.
The man of intemperate living rises to nausea, retching, pain,
and wo. Poverty, this morning clothes in rags the body of
him who was idle yesterday; and disease clings to the goings,
and fixes itself in the blood of him, who was dissipated. Who
can tell but death shall be less a suspension of existence than
this night's sleep? Who can tell but that the consequences of
our doings here, shall travel over our sleep in the tomb, and
greet us in our awaking in some new abode ? Why should
they not? Why should God appoint a law so wise, and so uni-
versal here, that is to fail the moment we pass to some other part
of our being ?
Nor are the results of crime confined to ihe place where the act
was committed. Sin, in youth, may lay the foundation of a
disease, that shall complete its work on the other side of the
globe. An early career of dissipation in America, may fix in the
frame the elements of a disorder, that shall complete its work in
the splendid capital of the French, or it may be in the sands of
the Equator, or the snows of Siberia. If crime may thus travel
in its results around the globe, if it may reach out its withering
hand over seas, and mountains, and continents, and seek out its
fleeing victim in the solitary waste, or in the dark night, we see
not why it may not be stretched across the grave, and meet the
victim there at least we think the analogy should make tne
transgressor tremble, and turn pale as he flies to eternity.
But it is still objected that the rewards given to virtue, and the
pain inflicted on vice, are not universal, and that there is not,
therefore, the proof that was to have been expected, that they
Avill be hereafter. Here we remark that it is evidently not the
design of religion to affirm that the entire system can be seen in
our world. We say that the system is noilully developed, and
that there is, therefore, presumptive proof that there is another
state of things. Every one must have been struck with the fact,
XXli INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
that human affairs are cut off in the midst of their way, and their
complcuoo removed to some other world. No earthly syslerr
or plan r.as been carried out to its full extent. There is no proof
that we l.ave ever seen the full result of any given system of
condu'-t. We see the effect of vice as far as the structure of the
body will allow. We see it prostrate the frame, produce disease,
and terminate in death. We see the effect on body and mind
alike, until we lose our sight of the man in the grave. There
our observation stops. But who can tell what the effect of
intemperance, for example, would be in this world, if the body
were adjusted to bear its results a little longer ? Who can cal-
culate with what accelerated progress the consequences would
thicken beyond the time when we now cease to observe them?
And who can affirm that the same results may not await the
mind hereafter? Again we ask the infidel why they should not?
He is bound to tell us. The presumption is against him.
Besides, the effect of vice is often arrested in its first stage. A
young man suddenly dies. For some purpose, unseen to human
eyes, the individual is arrested, and the effect of his crimes is
removed into eternity. Why is this more improbable than that
the irregularities of youth should run on, and find their earthly
completion in the wretchedness and poverty of a dishonoured olJ
age. So virtue is often arrested. The young man of promise,
of talent, and of piety, dies. The completion of the scheme is
arrested. The rewards are dispensed in another world. So says
religion. And can the infidel tell us why they should not be dis-
pensed there, as well as in the ripe honours of virtuous man
hood? This is a question which infidelity must answer.
The same remarks are as applicable to communities as to indi-
viduals. It is to be remembered here, that virtue has never had
a full and impartial trial. The proper effect of virtue here, would
be seen in a perfectly pure community. Let us suppose such an
organization of society. Imagine a community of virtuous men
where the most worthy citizens should always be elected to
office, where affairs should be suffered to flow on far enough to
give the system a complete trial ; where vice, corruption, flattery,
bribes, and the arts of office-seeking, should be unknown ; where
intemperance, gluttony, lust, and dishonest gains, should be shut
out by the laws, and by the moral sense of the commonwealth:
where industry and sobriety should universally prevail, and be
honored. Is there any difficulty in seeing that if this system
were to prevail for many ages, the nation would be signally pros-
perous, and gain a wide dominion ? And suppose, on the other
hand, a community made up on the model of the New-Harmony
plan, the asylum of the idle, of the unprincipled, and the profli-
gate. Suppose that the men of the greatest physical power, and
most vice, should rule, as they infallibly would do. Suppose
there was no law, but the single precept enjoining universal
indulgence ; and suppose that, under some miraculous and terri-
ble binding together by divine pressure, this community should
be kept from falling to pieces, or destroying itself, for a few ages
INTRODUCTORY ESSAV. S3 ill
is there any difficulty in seeing what would be the proper effect
of crime? Indeed, we deem it happy for the world trial one
Robert Owen has been permitted to live to make the experiment
on a small scale, and but one, lest the record of total profligacy
and corruption should not be confined to the singularly named
New-Harmony. All this proves there is something either in the
frame-work of society itself, or in the agency of some Great
Being presiding over human things, that smiles on virtue ; and
frowns on vice. In other words, there is a moral government.
It is further to be remarked that, as far as the experiment has
been suffered to go on in the world, it has been attended with a
uniform result. Nations are suffered to advance in wickedness,
until they reach the point, in the universal constitution of tnmgs,
that is attended with self-destruction. So fell Gomorrah, Baby-
lon, Athens, Rome, expiring just as the drunkard does by excess
of crime, or by enervating their strength in luxury and vice.
The body politic, enfeebled by corruption, is not able to susiam
the incumbent load, and sinks, like the human frame, in ruin.
So has perished every nation, from the vast dominions of A.ex-
ander the Macedonian, to the mighty empire of Napoleon, that
has been reared in lands wet with the blood of the sla;rs, and
incumbent on the pressed and manacled liberties of man. In
national, as well as in private affairs, the powers of doing evil
soon exhaust themselves. The frame in which they act is not
equal to the mighty pressure, and the nation or the in-Jmdual
sinks to ruin. Like some tremendous engine, of many wheels
and complicated machinery, when the balance is removfj. and
it is suffered to waste its powers in self-propulsion, without
checks or guides, the tremendous energy works its own ruin,
rends the machine in pieces, and scatters its rolling and Hying
wheels in a thousand directions. Such is the frame of society,
and such the frame of an individual. So we expect, if God gave
up the world to unrestrained evil it would accomplish its own
perdition. We think we see in every human frame, and in the
mingled and clashing powers of every society, the elements of
ruin, and all that is necessary to secure that ruin is to remove
the pressure of the hand that now restrains the wild and terrific
powers, and saves the world from self-destruction. So if virtue
had a fair trial, we apprehend it would be as complete in its
results. We expect, in heaven, it will secure its own rewards
like the machine which we have supposed always harmonious
in its movements. So in hell, we expect there will be the ele-
ments of universal misrule and that all the foreign force that
will be necessary to secure eternal misery, will be Almighty
power to preserve the terrible powers in unrestrained being, and
to press them into the same mighty prison-house just like some
adamantine enclosure that should keep the engine together and
fix the locality of its tremendous operations.
Long ago it had passed into a proverb, that " murder will out.'
This is just an illustration of what we are supposing. Let a
murderer live long enough, and such is the organization of
XXIV INTRODGCTOEY ESSAY.
society, that vengeance will find him out. Such, we suppose,
would be the case in regard to all crime, if sufficient permanency
were given to the affairs of men, and if tilings were not arrested
in the midst of their way. Results in eternity, we suppose, are
but "!he transfer to another state of results which would take place
here, if the guilty were not removed. We ask the infidel, \ve
ask the Universalist. why this state of things should be arrested
by so unimportant a circumstance as death 1 Here is a uniform
system of things uniform as far as the eye can run it backward
into past generations,- -uniform, so as to become the foundation
of laws and of the entire conduct of the world, and uniform, so
far as the eye can trace the results of conduct forward in all the
landmarks set up along our future course. Unless God change,
and the affairs of other worlds are administered on principles
different from ours, it must be that the system will receive its
appropriate termination there. It belongs to the infidel and the
Universalist to prove, that the affairs of the universe come to a
solemn pause at death ; that we are ushered into a world of dif-
ferent laws, and different principles of government, that we
pass under a new sceptre, a sceptre too, not of justice, but of dis-
order, misrule, and the arrest of all that God has begun in his
administration ; that the results of conduct, manifestly but just
commenced here, are finally arrested by some strange and
unknown principle at our death ; and that we are to pass to a
world of which we know nothing, and in which we have no
means of conjecturing what will be the treatment which crime
and virtue will receive. We ask them, can they demonstrate this
strange theory ? Are men willing to risk their eternal welfare
on the presumption, that God will be a different being therefrom
what he is here, and that the conduct which meets with wo here, will
there meet with bliss ? Why not rather suppose,- as Christianity
does according to all the analogy of things, that the same
Almighty hand shall be stretched across all worlds alike, and that
the holts which vibrate in his hand now, and point their thunder*
at the head of the guilty, shall fall with tremendous weight there,
and close, in eternal life and death, the scenes begun on earth ?
We know of no men who are acting under so fearful probabili-
ties against their views, as those who deny the doctrine of future
punishment. Here is a long array of uniform facts, all, as we
understand them, founded on the presumption that the scheme
of the infidel cannot he true. The system is continued through
all the revolutions to which men are subject. Conduct, in its
results, travels over all the interruptions of sleep, sickness,
absence, delirium, that man meets with, and passes on from age
to age.
The conduct of yesterday terminates in results to-day ; that of
youth extends into old age; that of health reaches even beyond a
season of sickness; that of sanity, beyond a state of delirium.
Crime here meets its punishment, it may be after we have
crossed oceans, and snows, and sands, in some other part of the
globe. Far from country and home, in lands of strangers where
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XT?
BO eye may recognise or pity us, but that of the unseen witness
of our actions, it follows us in remorse of conscience, or in the
ludgments of the storm, the siroc, or the ocean. We are amazed
that it should be thought that death will arrest this course of
things, and that crossing that narrow vale, will do for us what
the passage from yesterday to to-day, from youth to age, from
the land of our birth to the land of strangers and of solitudes, can
never do. Guilty man carries the elements of his own perdition
within him, and it matters little whether he be in society or in
solitude, in this world or the next the inward fires will burn,
and the sea and the dry land, and the burning climes of hell, will
send forth their curses to greet the wretched being, who has
dared to violate the laws of the unseen God, and to "hail" him
as the "new possessor'' of the "profoundest hell."
But the infidel still objects that all this is mere probability,
and that in concerns so vast, it is unreasonable to act without
demonstration. We reply, that in few of the concerns of life do
men act from demonstration. The farmer sows with the proba-
biliti/, only, that he will reap. The scholar toils with the proba-
bility, often a slender one, that his life will be prolonged, and
success crown his labours in subsequent life. The merchant
commits his treasures to the ocean, embarks perhaps all be has
on the bosom of the deep, under the probability that propitious
gales will waft the riches of the Indies into port. Under this
probability, and this only, the ambitious man pants for honour,
the votary of pleasure presses to the scene of dissipation, the
youth, the virgin, the man of middle life, and he of hoary hairs,
alike crowd round the scenes of honour, of vanity, and of gain.
Nay, more, some of the noblest qualities of the soul are brought
forth only on the strength of probabilities that appear slight to
less daring spirits. In the eye of his countrymen, few things
were more improbable than that Columbus would survive the
dangers of the deep, and land on the shores of a new hemisphere.
Nothing appeared more absurd than his reasonings nothing
more chimerical than his plans. Yet under the pressure of proof
that satisfied his own mind, he braved the dangers of an untra-
versod ocean, and bent his course to regions whose existence
was as far from the belief of the old world, as that of heaven is
from the faith of the infidel. Nor could the unbelieving Spaniard
deny, that under the pressure of the probability of the existence
of a western continent, some of the highest qualities of mind
that the earth has seen, were exhibited by the Genoese navigator
just as the infidel must admit that some of the most firm and
noble expressions of soul have come from the enterprise of gain-
ing a heaven and a home, beyond the stormy and untra veiled
ocean, on which the Christian launches his bark in discovery of
a new world. We might add also here, the names of Bruce, of
Wallace, of Tell, of Washington. We might remark how they
conmenced the great enterprises whose triumphant completion
has given immortality to their names, under the power of a
probability that their 'efforts would be successful. We might
XXVI INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
r^i,:fk how many more clouds of doubt and obscurity clustered
arou'u! (heir enterprises, than have ever darkened the Christian s
p..la lo heaven, and how the grandest displays of patriotism and
prowess that the world has known, have grown out. of the
hazardous design of rescuing Scotland, Switzerland and America
from slavery. But we shall only observe that there was just
enough probability of success 'in these cases to try these men's
souls just as there is probability enough of heaven and hell, to
try the souls of infidels and of Christians, to bring out their true
character, and answer the great ends of moral government.
But here the infidel acts on the very principle which lie con-
demns. He has not demonstrated that his system is true. From
the nature of the system he cannot do it. He acts then, on a
probability that his system may prove to be true. And were the
subject one less serious than eternity, it might be amusing to
look at the nature of these probabilities. His system assumes
; t as probable that men will not be rewarded according to their
deeds; that Christianity will turn out to be false; that it will
appear that no such being as Jesus lived, or that it will yet be
proved that he was an impostor; that twelve men Avere deceived
in so plain a case as that which related to the death and resur-
rection of an intimate friend; that they conspired to impose on
men Avilhout reward, contrary to all me acknowledged princi-
ples of human action, and when they could reap nothing for
their imposture but stripes, contempt, and death ; that religion
did not early spread over the Roman empire; that the facts of
the New Testament are falsehood, and of course that all the
cotemporuneous confirmations of these facts collected by the
indefatigable Lardner, were false also : that the Jews occupy
their place in the nations by chance, and exist in a manner ron-
traiy to that of all other people, without reason ; thai all the pre-
dictions of their dispersion, of the coming of the Messiah, of tho
overthrow of Babylon and Jerusalem and Tyre nre conjecturL.-.
ir which men, very barbarous men, conjectured exactly ri.ulir,
while tiu.usands of the predictions of heathen oracles and states-
isi >ii i-tne tailed; that this singular fact should have happened,
tliit ti-.e most barbarous people should give to mankind the?
oulv intelligible notices of God, and that a dozen, Galilean peas-
aa's should have devised a scheme of imposture to overthrow all
ilie true, and all the false systems of religion in the world. The
moreover deems it probable that there is no God ; or th;it
ath is an eternal sleep; or that we have no souls; or that
an is but an improved and educated ape, or that all virtus i:>
-vain, that all vice stands on the same level, and may be com-
mitted at any man's pleasure ; or that man's wisdom is to dis-
regard the future, and live to eat and drink and die ; and all this
too, when his conscience tells him there is a God, when he does
act for the future, and expects happiness or wo as the reward of
virtue or vice; when he is palsied, as he looks at the grave, with
fears of what is beyond, and turns pale in solitude as he looks
onward to the bar of God. Now we hazard nothing in saying,
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
that the man who is compelled to act as the infidel is, who has
all these probabilities to cheer him with the belief that infidelity
is true, and this when it has no system to recommend as truth,
and when it stands opposed to all the analogy of things, is
engaged in a most ^singular employment, when he denounces
men for acting on the probability that there is a heaven, a God,
a Saviour, and a hell. It seems to us that there is nothing more
at war with all the noble and pure feelings of the soul, th.m this
attempt to "swing man from his moorings," and send him on
wild and tumultuous seas, with only the infiders probability that
he will ever reach a haven of rest. It is launching into an
ocean, without a belief that there is an ocean ; and weathering
storms, without professing to believe that there may be storms;
and seeking a port of peace, without believing that there is such
a port, and acting daily with reference to the future, at the same
time that all is pronounced an absurdity. And when we see all
this, we ask instinctively, can this be man? Or is this being
right after all, in the belief that he is only a semi-barbarous ape,
or a half-reclaimed man of the woods ?
But we are gravely told, and with an air of great seeming
wisdom, that all presumption and experience are against the
miraculous facts in the New Testament. And it was, for some
time, deemed proof of singular philosophical sagacity in Hume,
(hat he made the discovery, and put it on record to enlighten
mankind. For our part, we think far more attention was
bestowed on this sophistry than was required ; and but for the
show of confident wisdom with which it was put forth, we think
ihe argument of Campbell might have been spared. It might
safely be admitted, we suppose, that all presumption and experi-
ence, were against miracles before they were wrought, and this
is no more than saying that they were not wrought before they
were. The plain matter of fact, apart from all laboured meta-
physics, is, that there' is a presumption against most facts until
they actually take place, because till that time all experience
was against them. Thus there were many presumptions against
the existence of such a man as Julius Caesar. No man would
have ventured to predict that there would be such a man. There
were a thousand probabilhes that a man of that name would not
live as many that he would not cross the Rubicon as many that
he would not enslave his country and as many that he would
not be slain by the hand of such a man as Brutus, and all tKs
was contrary to experience. So there were innumerable i -
probabilities, in regard to the late Emperor of France. It uas
once contemplated, we are told, by a living poet who afterwards
wrote his life in a different place, to produce a biography
grounded on the impr labilities of his conduct, and showing how,
in fact, all those improbabilities disappeared in the actual result.
The world stood in amazement indeed for a few years at the
singular grandeur of his movements. Men saw him ride, as
the spirit of the storm, on the whirlwind of the revolution ; and
like the spirit of the tempest, amazed and trembling nations
TJCVlll INTRODUCTORY ESSAT.
knew not where his power would strike, or what city or state it
would next sweep into ruin. But the world has since become
familiar with the spectacle, men have seen that he was
naturally engendered by the turbid elements that he was the
proper creation of the revolution and that if he had not lived
some other master spirit like him would have seized the direction
of the tempest, and poured its desolations on bleedinsr and
trembling Europe. So any great discovery in science or art, is
previously improbable and contrary to experience. We have
often amused ourselves with contemplating what would have
been the effect on the mind of Archimedes, had he been told of
the power of one of the most common elements, an element
which men who see boiling water must always see its mighty
energy in draining deep pits in the earth, in raising vast rocks
of granite, in propelling vessels with a rapidity and beauty of
which the ancients knew nothing, and in driving a thousand
wheels in the minutest and most delicate works of art. To the
ancient world all this was contrary to experience, and all pre-
sumption was against it, as improbable certainly as that God
should have power to raise the dead ; and we doubt whether any
evidence of divine revelation would have convinced mankind
three thousand years ago, without the actual experiment r of
what the school-boy mar now know as a matter of sober an
daily occurrence, in theaftairs of the world. So not long since, the
Copernican system of astronomy was so improbable, that for
maintaining it, Galileo endured tbe pains of the dungeon. All
presumption and all experience it was thought were against it.
Yet, by the discoveries of Newton, it has been made, to the
great niass of mankind, devoid of all its improbabilities, and
children acquiesce in its reasonableness. So the oriental king
could not be peruaded that water could ever become hard. It
was full of improbabilities, and 1 contrary to all experience. The
plain ma tier of fact, is, that in regard to -all events in history,
and all discoveries in science, and inventions in the mechanic
arts, there may be said to be a presumption against their exist-
ence, just as there was in regard to miracles ; and they are con-
trary to all experience, until discovered, just as miracles are
until performed. And if this be all that infidelity has to affirm in
the boasted argument of Hume, it seems to be ushering into the
world, -with very unnecessary pomp, a very plain truism, that
a new fact in the world is contrary to all experience, and this is
th 3 same as saying that a thing is contrary to experience until
it actually is experienced.
We have another remark to make on this subject. It relates
to the case with which the improbabilities of a case may be over-
come by testimony. We doubt not that the wonders of the
steam power may be now credited by al! mankind, and we who
have seen its application in so many forms, easily believe that
it may accomplish similar wonders in combinations which the
world has not yet witnessed. The incredulity of the age of
Galileo on the subject of astronomy, has been overcome among
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XXIX
millions who cannot trace the demonstrations of Newton, and
who perhaps have never heard his name. It is by testimony only
that ail this is done; and on the strength of this testimony, man
\vill hazard any worldly interest. He will circumnavigate the
globe, not at all deterred by the fear that he may find in distant
seas or land*, different laws from which the Copernican system
supposes. We do not see why, in like manner, the improbabili-
ties of religion may not vanish before testimony; and its high
mysteries in some advanced period of our existence, become as
familiar to us, as the common facts which are now the subjects
of our daily observation. Nor can we see why the antecedeal
difficulties of religion may not as easily be removed by compe-
tent proof, as those which appalled the minds of men in the gran-
deur of the astronomical system, or the mighty power of the arts.
We wish here briefly to notice another difficulty of infidelity.
It is, that it is altogether improbable and against the analogy of
things, that the Son of God, the equal of the Father of the uni-
verse, should stoop to the humiliating scenes of the mediation,
should consent to be cursed, reviled, buffetted, and put to death.
We answer, men are very incompetent judges of what a Divine
Being may be willing to endure. Who would suppose, before-
hand, that God would submit to blasphemy and rebuke? Yet
what being has been ever more calumniated ? Who has been
the object of more scorn ? What is the daily offering that goes
up from the wide world to the Maker of all worlds? Not a
nation that does not daily send up a dense cloud of obscenity and
profaneness as their offering.
" The dwellers in the vales and on the rocks
" Shout to each other ; and the mountain tops
' ' From distant mountains catch the flying' curse,
" Till nation after nation taught the strain,
" ' Earth rolls the awful malediction round.' "
.
Scarce a corner of the street can be turned, but our ears are
saluted with the sound of blasphemy curses poured on Jeho-
vah, on his Son, on his Spirit, on his creatures, on the material
universe, on his law. To our minds, it is no more strange that
the Son of God should bear reproach, and pain, with patience for
thirty years, than that the God of creation should bear all this from
age to age, and as an offering from the wide world. We have
only to reflect on what the blasphemer would do if God should be
imbodied, and reveal himself to the eye in a form so that human
hands might reach him with nails, and spears, and rnock dia
dems, to see an illustration of what they actually did do, when
his Son put himself in the power of blasphemers, and refused
not to die. The history of the blasphemer has shown that if he
had the pou-er, long ago the last gem in the Creator's crown
would have been plucked away ; his throne would have crum-
bled beneath him ; his sceptre been wrested from his hand ; and
the God of creation, like his Son in redemption, would have
been suspended on a " great central" cross ' When we see
3*
X'XX INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
the patience of God towards blasphemers, our minds are never
staggered by any condescension in the Redeemer. We tee
something in the analogy, so unlike what we see among men,
that we are strongly confirmed in the belief that they are a part
of one great system of things. \
We have thus presented a specimen of the nature of the argu-
ment from analogy. Our design has been to excite to inquiry,
and to lead our readers to cultivate a practical acquaintance
with this great work. We deem it a work of principles in the-
ology a work to be appreciated only by those who think for
themselves, and who are willing to be at the trouble of carrying
ou' these materials for thought into a daily practical application
to the thousand difficulties, which beset the path of Christians in
their own private reflections, in the facts which they encounter,
and in the inuendoes, jibes, and blasphemies of infidels. Wt
know, indeed, that the argument is calculated to silence rather
than to convince. In our view, this is what, on this subject, is
principally needed. The question in our minds is rather, whe-
ther we may believe there is a future state, than whether we
must believe it. Sufficient for mortals, we think is it, in their
wanderings, their crimes, and their sorrows, if they may believe
there is a place where the wicked cease from troubling, and the
weary may be for ever at rest; and if the thousand shades of
doubt on that subject which thicken on the path of man, and
which assume a deeper hue by infidel arts, may be removed.
We ask only the privilege of believing that there is a woild of
purity ; that the troubled elements of our ehaotic abode may
settle down into rest; and that from the hearings of this
moving sea there may arise a fair moral system complete in all
its parts, where God shall be all in all, and where all creatures
nay admire the beauty of bis moral character, and the gran-
deur of his sovereign control. We watch the progress of this
system, much as we may suppose a spectator would have
watched the process of the first creation. At first this DOW
solid globe was a wild chaotic mass. Daikness and commotion
were there. There was a vast heaving deep a boundless com-
mingling of elements -a dismal terrific wild. Who, in looking
on that moving mass, would have found evidence that the
bounty of Kden would so soon start up on its surface, and the fair
proportions of our hills, and vales, and streams, would rise to
give support to millions of animated and happy beings. And
with what intensity would the observer behold the light burst-
ing on chaos the rush of waters to their deep caverns the
uprising of the bills clothed with verdure, inviting to life and
felieitv. With what beauty would appear the millions sporting
with new-created life in their proper elements. Myriads in the
heaving ocean and gushing streams myriads melodious in the.
grove* myriads joyful on a thousand hills, and in a thousand
vales. How grand the completion of the system man lord of
all, clothed with power over the bursting millions, the priest (<t
his nev, creation, rendering homage to its Gieat Sovereign
INTRODUCTORY ESS AT. JJtxl
Lord, and " extolling him first, him midst, and him without end."
Like beauty and grandeur, we expect will come out of this
deranged moral system. Our eye loves to trace its develope-
nient. With tears we look back on "Paradise Lost" with
exultation we trace the unfolding elements of a process that
shall soon exhibit the beauty and grandeur of " Paradise
regained.* 1
There is still a most important part of the subject untouched-
the analogy of the Christian scheme, as we understand it, to the
course of nature, and the fact that all the objections urged against
Calvinism lie against the actual order of events. This part of the
argument, Butler has not touched. To this, we propose now to
call the attention of our readers in some respects the most inte-
resting and important part of "the analogy of religion, natural
and revealed, to the constitution and course of nature."
Thus far we have had our eye fixed on the infidel. We wish
now to direct our attention to the opponents of what we consider
the Christian scheme, and inquire whether Butler has not fur-
nished us materials to annihilate every objection against what
are called the doctrines of grace. We say materials, for we are
well aware that he did not complete the argument. We suppose
that, had his object been to carry it to its utmost extent, there
were two important causes which would have arrested its pro-
gress where it actually has stopped. The first is found in But-
ier's own views of the Christian scheme. We are not calling in
question his piety, but we have not seen evidence that he had
himself fully embraced the evangelical system, and applied his
argument to the peculiar doctrines of the gospel. We fear that
he stopped short of such a result in his own feelings, and that this
may have been the reason why that system had not a more pro-
minent place in his work. Still, we would not apply the lan-
guage of severe criticism to this deficiency in the Analogy. We
know his design. It was to meet the infidelity of an age of
peculiar thoughtlessness and vice. He did it. He reared an
argument which infidels have thought it most prudent to lei
alone. They have made new attacks in other modes. Driven
from this field, they have yielded i'. into the hands of Butler,
and their wisdom has consisted in withdrawing as silently as
possible from the field, and losing the recollection both of the dia
of conflict and the shame of defeat. It has always been one of
the arts of infidelity and error, to forget the scene of previous
conflict and overthrow. Singular adroitness is manifested in
Keeping from the public eye the fact and the monuments of such
disastrous encounters. Thus Butler stands as grand and solitary
as a pyramid of Egypt, and we might add, nearly as much for-
snkcn by those for whose benefit he wrote. And thus Edwards
on the Will is conveniently forgotten by hosts of Arminians, who
continue to urge their arguments with as much self-gratulation,
as though previous hosts of Arminians had never been prostrated
?y his mighty arm. Could we awaken the unpleasant reminis-
ence in the infidels of our age, that there was such a man as
XXX11 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
Buller, and in tne opposers .of the doctrines of grace, that ther
is extant in the English language such a book, as " A carcfui
inquiry into the modern prevailing notions on the freedom of the
Will," we should do more, perhaps, than by any one means to
disturb the equanimity of multitudes, who live only to deal out
dogmas as if they had never been confuted ; and we might hope
to arrest the progress of those destructive errors which are
spreading in a thousand channels through the land.
The other cause of the deficiency which we notice in the Ana-
logy, is, that it was not possible for Butler, with the statements
then made of the doctrines of grace, to carry out his argument,
and give it its true bearing on those doctrines. The philosophical
principles on which Calvinism had been defended for a century
and a half, were substantially those of the schoolmen. The sys-
tem had started out from darker ages of the world ; had been
connected with minds of singular strength and power, but also
with traits in some degree stern and forbidding. Men had been
thrown into desperate mental conflict. They had struggled for
mental and civil freedom. They had but little leisure, and less
inclination, to polish and adorn to go into an investigation of
tue true laws of the mind, and the proper explanation of facts in
the moral world little inclination to look on what was bland
and amiable in the government of God. Henee they took the
rough-cast system, wielded, in its defence, the ponderous wea-
pons which Augustine and even the Jansenists had furnished
them, and prevailed in the conflict ; not, however, by the force
of their philosophy, but of those decisive declarations of the word
of God, with which unhappily that philosophy had become iden-
tified. But when they told of imputing the sin of one man to
another, and of holding that other to be personally answerable for
it, it is no wonder that such minds as that of Butler recoiled, for
there is nothing like this in nature. When they affirmed, that
men have no power to do the will of God, and yet will be damned
for not doing what they have no capacity to perform, it is no
wonder that he started back, and refused to attempt to rind an
analogy; for it is unlike the common sense of men. When they
told of a limited atonement of confining the original applica-
bility of the blood of Christ to the elect alone, there teas no ana-
logy to this, in all the dealings of God towards sinners; in the
sun-heam, in the dew, the rain, in running rivulets or oceans
and here Butler must stop, for the analogy could go no furthe
upon the then prevalent notions of theology.
Still, we record with gratitude the achievements of Butler
We render our humble tribute of thanksgiving to God, that ht,
raised up a man who has laid the foundation of an argument
which can be applied to every feature of the Christian scheme.
We are not Hutchinsonians, but we believe there is a course of
nature most strikingly analogous to the doctrines of revelation.
We believe that all the objections which have been urged against
the peculiar doctrines of the Christian scheme, lie with equal
weight against the course of nature itself, and, therefore, really
INTRODUCTORY ESSAT.
constitute no objections at all. This point of the argument,
Butler has omitted. To a contemplation of the outline of it we
now ask the attention of our readers.
We are accustomed, in our ordinary technical theology, to
speak much of the doctrines of Christianity : and men of system-
making minds have talked of them so long, that they seem to
understand hy them, a sort of intangible and abstract array of
propositions, remote from real life and from plain matter of fact.
The learner in divinity is often told, that there is a species of
daring profaneness, in supposing that they are to be shaped to
existing facts, or to the actual operations of moral agents. All
this is metaphysics, and the moment he dares to ask whether
Turretin or Ri'dgeley had proper conceptions of the laws of the
mind, of moral agency, or of facts in the universe, that moment
the shades of all antiquity are summoned to come around the
adventurous theologian, and charge him with a guilty departure
from dogmas longlield in the church.
Now we confess we have imbibed somewhat different notions
of the doctrines of the Bible. We have been accustomed to regard
the word as denoting only an authoritative teaching, (o.'i^
Matt. vii. 23: cornp. v. 19; xxii. 33; 2 Tim. iv. 2, 9,) of what
actually exists in the universe. We consider the whole system of
doctrines as simply a statement of/at.'s. The doctrine of the
Trinity, for example, is a statement of a fact respecting the mode
of God's existence. The fact is beyond any investigation of our
own minds, and we receive the statement as it is. The doctrine
of the mediation is a statement of facts, respecting what Christ
did, and taught, and suffered, as given by himself and his fol-
lowers. So of depravity, so of election or predestination, so of
perseverance, so of future happiness and wo. What, then, are
the doctiines of Christianity? Simply statements of what has
been, of what *s, and what u-ill be, in the government of God. In
this, every thing is as far as possible from abstraction. There
is as little abstraction, (and why may we not add as little sacred-
ness?) in these facts, we mean sacredness to prevent inquiry
into their true nature as there is in the science of geology, the
growth of a vegetable, or the operations of the human intellect.
We may add, that in no way has systematic theology rendered
more essential disservice to mankind, than in drawing out the
life-blood from these great facts unsHnging the nerves, stiffen-
ing the muscles, and giving the fixedness of death to them, as
the anatomist cuts up the human frame, removes all the ele-
ments of life, distends the arteries and veins with wax, and then
places it in his room of preparations, as cold and repulsive as are
some systems of technical divinity.
In the doctrines of Christianity, as given us in the Bible, we
find nothing of this abstract and unreal character. The whole
tenor of the Scriptures prepares us to demand, that theology be
invariably conformed to the laws of the mind, and the actual
economy of the moral and material universe. The changes
which have taken place in orthodox systems of divinity since the
INTRODUCTORY ESSAT.
era of the reformation, have been chiefly owing to the changes
in the system of mental and moral science. Whenever tha
system shall be fully understood, and established on the immo-
vable foundation of truth, all who love the Lord Jesus Christ in
sincerity, will be of one mind in their mode of stating the doc-
trines of the gospel, as they already are in their spiritual feel-
ings. Till then, all that can be done by the friends of truth will
be to show, that the objections which are urged against the doc-
trines of grace, can be. urged with equal power, against all the
facts in God's moral government.
From the beginning, formidable objections have been brought
against what arc called the Doctrines of Grace, or the Evangeli-
cal System, or Calvinism. These objections have seldom, if
ever, been drawn from the Bible. Their strength has consisted
in the alleged fact, that these doctrines are in opposition to the
established principles, by which God governs the world. We
concede, that there is just enough of apparent irregularity in
those principles, to make these objections plausible with the
many and plausible object
tain appearances strongly favoured the old doctrine, that the sun,
moon, and stars travelled, in marshalled hosts, around our insig-
nificant orb, just as, in the Arminian system, certain appear-
ances may seem to indicate that man is the centre cf the system,
and that God, and all the hosts of heaven, live and act chiefly to
minister to his comfort. But it is now clear, that all the proper
facts in astronomy go to prove, that the earth is a small part of
the plan, and to confirm the system of Copernicus. So we affirm
that the Calvinistic scheme despite all Arminian appearances,
is the plan on which this world is actually governed; and that
all the objections that have been urged against it are urged
against facts that are fixed in the very nature of things. And
we affirm that a mind which could take in all these facts, could
make up the Calvinistic scheme without the aid of revelation,
from the actual course of events; just as in the ruins of an
ancient city the skilful architect can discern in the broken frag-
ments, pillars of just dimensions, arches of proper proportions,
and the remains of edifices of symmetry and grandeur.
In entering on this subject, however, we cannot but remark
that the Evangelical Scheme is often held answerable for that
which it did not originate. We mean, that when opposers
approach the Christian system, they almost universally hold it
responsible for the fall, as well as die recovery, of man. They
are not willing to consider, that it is a scheme proposed to remedy
an existing stale of evil. Christianity did not plunge men into
sin. It is the system by which men are to be -ecovered from
wo wo which would have existed to quite as great an extent,
certainly, if the conception of the evangelical system had never
entered the divine mind. The theory and practice of medicine
is not to be held answerable for the fact that man is subject to
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XXXV
Disease nd death. It finds men thus suhj~t; and all that can
be justly required of the art, is that to which it makes preten-
sions, viz. that it can do something towards removing or allevia-
ting human suffering. So in Christianity. That men are in
fact in the midst of sin, suffering, and death, is undeniable. The
doctrine is common to the deist, the atheist, and the Christian.
For that Christianity is not answerable. It proposes a remedy,
and that remedy is properly the Christian system. Still we
shall not, in our present discussion, avail ourselves of this vt-ry
obvious remark ; but shall proceed to notice the objections to ire
entire series of revealed facts, as if they constituted one system :
and the rather as the evangelical system proposes a stalemfiit
respecting the exact extent of the evil, which has au important
bearing on the features of the remedy proposed.
1. The first fact, then, presented for our examination is 'te
fall of man. The Scriptures affirm that a solitary act an a-.u
.11 itself exceedingly unimportant was the beginning of i..;it
ong train of siu and wretchedness, which has passed upon < ur
world. Now, we acknowledge that to all the mystery and f:r-'
fulness of this fact our bosoms beat with a full response to ;;.at
of the objector. We do not understand the reason of it; ^nd
wlnit is of more consequence to us and to the objector is, rial
an cx-planatitm of this mystery, forms no part of the system of "ce-
IfttiiHt. The only inquiry at present before us, is, whethe- the
fact in question is so separated from all other events, as to be
expressly contradicted by the analogy of nature.
We know there has been a theory, which affirms that w are
one with Adam that we so existed in his loins, as lo ac> .vith
him that our wills concurred with his will that his actio was
stricily and properly ours and that we are held answera le at
the bar of justice for that deed, just as A. B. at fifty is res onsi-
ble for the deed of A. B. at twelve. In other words, that t. e act
of Adam, involving us all in ruin, is taken out of all ord nary
laws by which God governs the world, and made to stand by
itself, as incapable of any illustration from analogy, and as
mocking any attempt to defend it by reasoning. With tins
theory, we confess we have no sympathy ; and we shall dismiss
it with saying, that in our view, Christianity never teaches thai
men are responsible for any sin but their own ; nor can they be
euilty, or held liable to punishment, in the proper sense of that
term, for conduct other than that which has grown out of their
own wills. Indeed we see not how, if it were a dogma of a pre-
tended revelation, that God might at pleasure, and by an arbi-
trary decree, make crime pass from one individual to another
striking onward from age to age, and reaching downward to
'the last season of recorded time," punished in the original
offender; repunished in his children; and punished again and
again, by infinite multiples, in countless ages and individuals
and all this judicial infliction, for a single art, performed cycles
of ages before the individuals lived, we see not how any evioence
could shake our intrinsic belief that this is unjust and improbable.
JTXXV1 mTRODUCTORT ESSAT.
We confess we have imbibed other views of justice; and we
believe that he who can find the head and members of this the-
ory in the Bible, will have no difficulty in finding there any of
the dogmas of the darkest night that ever settled on the church.
Eut, that the consequences or results of an action may pass over
from one individual to another, and affect the condition of unborn
generations, we hold to be a doctrine of the sacred Scriptures,
and to be fully sustained by the analogy of nature.* And no
one who looks at the scriptural account of the full and recovery
of man, can doubt that it is a cardinal point in the system. We
affirm that it is a doctrine fully sustained by the course of events
around us. Indeed the fact is so common, that we should be
exhausting the patience of our readers by attempting to draw out
formal instances. Who is ignorant of the progressive and
descending doom of the drunkard? Who is stranger to the
common fact, that his intemperance wastes the property which
was necessary to save a wife and children from beggary that
his appetite may be the cause of his family's being despised, illi-
terate and ruined; that the vices which follow in the train of his
intemperance, often encompass his offspring, and that they too
are profane, unprincipled, idle, and loathsome? So of the mur-
derer, the thief, the highwayman, the adulterer. The result of
their conduct rarely terminates with themselves. They are lost
to society, and their children are lost with them. Nor does the
evil slop here. Not merely are the external circumstances of the
child affected by the misdeeds of a parent, but there is often a
dnrk suspicion resting upon his very soul, there is felt to be in
hirn a hereditary presumptive tendency to crime, which can be
removed only by a long course of virtuous conduct, and which
even then the slightest circumstance re-excites. Is an illegiti-
mate child to -blame for the aberration of a mother? Yet who
is ignorant of the fact that, in very few conditions of society,
such a son is placed on a level with the issue of lawful wedlock ?
So the world over, we approach the son of the drunkard, the
n urdercr, and the traitor, with all these terrible suspicions. The
father's deeds shut our doors against him. Nor can he be raised
to the level of his former state, but by a long course of purity
and well-doing. Now in all these cases, we see a general course
of things in Divine Providence, corresponding, in important
respects, to the case of Adam and his descendants. We do not
deem the child guilty, or ill-deserving, but society is so organized,
and sin is so great an evil, that the proper effects cannot be seen, and
the proper terror be infused into the mind to deter from it, without
such an organization. It is true that these results do not take place
with undeviating certainty. It is not always the case that the
*Rom v.12 19; ICor.xv, 21,22, 49; Josh. vii. 24, 25 ; Ex.xvii.l6;
I Sam. xv. 2, 3 ; Matt, xxiii. 35. This view is by no means confined to
revelation. Tho ancient heathen long since observed it, and regarded it
as tlv groat principle on which the world was governed. Thus Hesiod
pays, ToXX.Kfe KOI vf>iraSa 7ro>if KUKOV av&pos etavpov : And Horace says,
Q,uicquid delirant regos plectuntur Achivi.
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XXXVU
child of a drunkard is intemperate, idle, or illiterate; while it i?
always the case, tliat a descendant of Adam is a sinner. In the
former case, there may be other laws of government to prevent
the regular operations of the plan. In the latter, God has r.ot
seen fit wholly to interrupt the regular process in a single
instance. Even when men are renewed as the child of the
drunkard may he removed from the regular curse of the parent's
conduct the renewed man still is imperfect, and still sulfers
pain and death.
But, we know, there is an appearance of much that is formi-
dable in the difficulty, that a single act, and that a most unim-
portant one, should result in so many crimes and calamities.
But the objection, as we have seen, lies against the course of
nature, as truly as against the revealed facts resulting from the
connexion of Adam and his descendants. To lessen the objec-
tion, we would further remark, that it is not the outward form of
an action which determines its character and results. The blow
which in self-defence strikes a highwayman to the earth, may
have the same physical qualities, as that which reached the
heart of the venerable White of Salem. It is the circumstances,
the attendants, the relations, the links that hind the deed to
others, which determine the character of the action. Adam's
act had this towering preeminence, that it was the first in the
newly created <rlobe, and committed by the first of mortals; the
prospective father of immense multitudes. In looking at it,
then, we are to turn from the mere physical act, to run the eye
along the conduct of his descendants, and to see ifwpcan find
any other deeds that shall be first in a series, and then to mark
their results, and in them we shall find the proper analogy. NOAV
it is evident, that here we shall find no other act that will have
the same awful peculiarity as the deed of our first father. But
are there no acts that can be set over against this, to illustrate
its unhappy consequences? We look, then, at the deed of a man
of high standing whose character has been blameless, and whose
ancestry has been noble. We suppose him, in an evil moment,
to listen to temptation, to fall into the wiles of the profligate, or
even to become a traitor to his country. Now who does not see
now the fact of this being a firrt and characteristic deed, may
entail deeper misery on his friends, and stain ihe escutcheon of
his family with a hroader and fouler blot? Or take an ins'anct-
which approaches still nearer to the circumstances of cur first
parents' crime. One false step, the first in a before virtuous
female of honourable parentage, aud high standing, spreads sack-
cloth and wo over entire families, and sends the curse prolonged
far into advancing years. It needs no remark to show how
much that deed may differ in its results, from any subsequent
acts of profligacy in that individual. The first act has spread
mourning throughout every circle of friends. Lost now to vir-
tue, and disowned by friends, the subsequent conduct may be
regarded as m character, and the results terminate only in the
offending individual. It is impossible here not to recur to the
INTRODUCTORY fiSSAtf .
melancholy case of Dr. Dodd. His crime differed not from othef
acts of forgery except in his circumstances. It was a first deed,
the deed of a man of distinction, of supposed piety, of a puie and
high profession, and the deed stood out with a dreadful pre-
eminence in the eyes of the world ; nor could the purity of his
profession, nor the eloquence of Johnson, nor the voice of thirty
thousand petitioners, nor the native compassion of George III.
save him from the tremendous malediction of the law a death
as conspicuous as the offence was primary and eminent.
AVe think from this peculiarity of a first offence, we can meet
many of the objections which men allege against the doctrines
of revelation, on the subject. If further illustration were needed,
we might speak of the opposite, and advert to the well-known
fact, that a first distinguished act in a progenitor may result in
the lasting good of those connected with him by the ties of kin-
dred or of law. Who can reflect without emotion on the great
deed by which Columbus discovered the western world, and th,
glory it h<ts shed on his family, and the interest which in conse-
quence of it has arisen at the very name, and which we feel foi
any mortal that is connected with him'? Who can remembei
without deep feeling, the philanthropy of Howard, and the death-
less lustre which his benevolence has thrown over his family and
his name 1 Who thinks of the family of Washington without
some deep emotion, running back to the illustrious man whose
glory has shed its radiance around Mount Vernon, around his
family, around our capital, and over all our battle-fields, and all
the millions of whom he was the constituted political father ?
There is a peculiarity in the great first deed which sheds a lustre
on all that, by any laws of association, can be connected with it.
Compared with other deeds, having perhaps the same physical
dimensions, it is like the lustre of the sun diffusing his beams
over all the planets, when contrasted with the borrowed, reflected
rays of the moon which shines upon our little globe.
Now we think there is an analogy between these cases and
\,]ii "f Ad-.-m. because \ve think it is a fixed principle in moral
as in natural legislation, that the same law is applicable to the
same facts. We find a series of facts on the earth, and a simi-
hr series in the movement of the planets, and we have a single
term to express the whole gravitation. We deem it unphilo-
sophical to suppose the nature is there, in the same facts, sub-
jected to different laws, from what passes before our own eyes.
So when we find one uniform process in regard to moral con-
duct when we find results, consequences and not crimes travel
ling from father to son, and holding on their unbroken way to
distant ages, why should we hesitate to admit, that to a groat
extent, at least, the facts respecting Adam and his descendants
fall under the same great law of divine providence ? We do not
nere deny, that there may have been beyond this a peculiarity in
the case of Adam, which must be referred to the decisions of
divine wisdom, and justified on other principles than those of any
tnowu analogy. But we never can adopt that system which
INTRODUCTORY ESAT. XXXUt
tramples on all the analogies which actually exist, and holds
men to be personally answerable, and actually punished by a just
God, for an act committed thousands of years before they were
born. Such a doctrine is no where to be found in the scriptures.
2. As the result of this act of Adarn, Christianity affirms that
man is depraved. It has marked the character and extent of
this depravity, with a particularity which we wonder has evei
eon called into debate.* It affirms that man is by nature des-
titute of holiness, and it is on the ground of this fact that the
Christian scheme was necessary. There is one great principle
running through the whole of this scheme, which renders ii
what it is, viz. the appointment of a Mediator. It regards man
as so fallen, and so helpless, that but for an extraordinary inter-
vention the appointment of some being that should interpose
to save, it was impossible that any native elasticity in the human
powers or will, or any device which human ingenuity mifht fall
on, should raise him up, and restore him to the favour of God.
Now the thing which most manifestly characterizes this sys-
tem is the doctrine of substitution or the fact that Jesus Christ
lived for others, toiled for others, and died for others ; or, in othei
words, that God bestows upon us pardon and life in consequence
of what his Son has done and suffered in our stead. t The
peculiarity which distinguishes this system from all others, is,
that man does not approach his Maker directly, but only through
the atonement of the Son of God.
Now in recurring to the analogy of nature, we have only to
ask, whether calamities which are hastening to fall on us, are
ever put back by the intervention of another? Are there any
cases in which either our own crimes or the manifest judgments
ot God, are bringing ruin upon us, where that ruin is turned
aside by the interposition of others ? Now we at once cast our
eyes backward to all the helpless and dangerous periods of our
being. Did God come forth directly, and protect us in the
defenceless period of infancy? Who watched over the sleep of
the cradle, and guarded us in sickness and helplessness ? It was
the tenderness of a mother bending over our slumbering child-
hood, foregoing sleep, and rest, and ease, and hailing toil and
care that we might be defended. Why then is it strange, that
when God thus ushers us into existence through the pain and
toil of another, that he should convey the blessings of a higher
existence by the groans and pangs of a higher mediator? God
gives us knowledge. But does he come forth to teach us by
inspiration, or guide us by his own hand to the fountains of
wisdom ? It is by years of patient toil in others, that we pos-
sess the elements of science, the principles of morals, the endow-
ments of religion. He gives us food and raiment. Is the
Great Parent of Benevolence seen clothing us by his own hand,
* Rom. i. 21 32 ; iii. 10 19 ; v. 12 ; Tin. 6, 7. Gen. viii. 21. Ps. xir
13. Eph. ii. 1 3. 1 John v. 19. John iii. I 6.
t John i. 29. Eph. v. 2. 1 John ii. 2; iv. 10. Isa. uii. 4. Rom. iii
44, 25. 2 Cor. v. 14. 1 Pet. ii. -t\. .
II rtCTRODlTCTORY ESSAY.
or ministering' directly to our wants? Who makes provisions
for the sons and daughters of feebleness, or gaiety, or idleness ?
Who but the care-worn and anxious father and mother, who toil
that their offspring may receive these benefits from their hands.
Why then may not the garments of salvation, and the manna
of life, come through a higher mediator, and be the fruit of
severer toil and sufferings ? Heaven's highest, richest, benefits
art- thus conveyed lo the race through thousands of hands acting
as mediums between man and God. It is thus, through the
instrumentality of others, that the Great Giver of life breathes
health into our bodies and vigour into our frames. And why
should he not reach also the sick and weary mind the soul Ian
guishing under a long and wretched disease, by the hand of a
mediator? Why should he not kindle the glow of spiritual
health on the wan cheek, and infuse celestial life into our veins,
by him who is the great physician of souls ? The very earth,
air, waters, are all channels for conveying blessings to us from
God. Why then should the infidel stand back, and all sinners
frown, when we claim the same thing in redemption, and affirm
that, in this great concern, " there is one mediator between God
and man, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself a ransom
for all."
But still it may be said, that this is not an atonement. We
admit it. We maintain only that it vindicates the main princi-
ple of the atonement, and shows that it is according to a gene-
ral law, that God imparts, spiritual blessings to us through a
mediaior. What we ask is the precise objectionable point in
the atonement, if it be not, that God aids us in our sins and
woes, by the self-denial and sufferings of another ? And we
ask, whether there is any thing so peculiar in such a system, as
to make it intrinsically absurd and incredible ? Now we think
there is nothing more universal and indisputable than a system
of nature like this. God has made the whole animal world
tributary to man. And it is by the toil and pain of creation,
lhat our wants are supplied, our appetites gratified, our bodies
sustained, our sickness alleviated that is, the impending evils
of labour, famine, or disease are put away by these substituted
toils and privations. By the blood of patriots he gives us the
blessings of liberty, that is, by their sufferings in our defence
we are delivered from the miseries of rapine, murder, or slavery,
which might have encompassed our dwellings. The toil of a
father, is the price by which a son is saved from ignorance,
depravity, want, or death. The tears of a mother, and her long
watchfulness, save from the perils of infancy, and an early
death. Friend aids friend by toil; a parent foregoes rest for a
child ; and the patriot pours out his blood on the altars of free-
dom, that others may enjby the blessings of liberty that is, that
others mny not be doomed to slavery, want, and death.
Yet still it may be said, that we have not come, in the analogy,
to the precise point of the atonement, in producir.g reconcihatun
with God by the sufferings of another. We ask, then, what is
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. il
the scripture account of the effect of the atonement in producing
reconciliation ? Man is justly exposed to suffering. He is
guilty, and it is the righteous purpose of God that the guilty
should suffer. God is so opposed to him that he will inflict
suffering on him, unless by an atonement it is prevented. By
the intervention of the atonement, therefore, the scriptures
affirm that such sufferings shall be averted. The man shall be
saved from the impending calamity. Sufficient for all the pur-
poses of justice, and of just government, has fallen on the sub-
stitute, and the sinner may be pardoned and reconciled to God.
Now, we affirm, that in every instance of the substituted suffer
ings, or self-denial of the parent, the patriot, or the benefactor,
there occurs a state of things so analogous to this, as to show
that it is in strict accordance with the just government of God ;
and to remove all the objections to the peculiarity of the atone-
ment. Over a helpless babe ushered into the world, naked,
feeble, speechless, there impends hunger, cold, sickness, sudden
death a mother's watchfulness averts these evils. Over a
nation impend revolutions, sword, famine, and the pestilence.
The blood of the patriot averts these, and the nation smiles in
peace. Look at a particular instance. Xerxes poured his mil
lions on the shores of Greece. The vast host darkened all the
plains, and stretched towards the capitol. In the train there
followed weeping, blood, conflagration, and the loss of liberty.
Leonidas almost alone, stood in his path. He fought. AVho
can calculate the effects of the valour and blood of that single
man and his compatriots in averting calamities from Greece,
and from other nations struggling in the cause of freedom ?
Y\"lio can tell how much of rapine, of cruelty, and of groans and
tears it turned away from that nation?
Now \ve by no mean-s affirm tli^t ihis is all that is meant by an
atc'ifenifiu, as revealed by Christianity. We affirm only, tli.it
tin re is a sufficient similarity in the two cases, to remove tlio
points of objection to an atonement, made by the infidel, to
show that reconciliation by the sufferings of another, or a pulling
away evils by the intervention of a mediator, is not a violation
of the analogies of the natural and moral world. Indeed we
should have thought it an argument for the rejection ot" a sys-
tem, if it had not contemplated the removal of evils by the toils
and pai ns of substitution. We maintain that the system of the
Uidtarians which denies all such substitution, is a violation of
all the modes in which God has yet dispensed his blessings to
men. In the nature of the case, there is all the antecedent pre-
sumption there could be, that, if God intended to confer saving
blessings on mankind, it would be, by the interposition of the
toils, groans, and blood, of a common mediating friend. The
w 1 known case of the king of the Locrians, is only an instance
of the way in which reconciliation is to be brought about among
IIKII. He made a law that the adulterer should be punished
with the loss of his eyes. His son was the first offender. The
feelings of the father and the justice of the king conflicted
Xhl INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
Reconciliation was produced by suffering the loss of oac ey
'iinvself, and inflicting the remainder of the penalty on his son
But still, there are two points in the atonement so well sub-
stantiated, and yet apparently contradictory, that it becomes an
interesting inquiry, whether both positions can find an analogy in
the course of events. The first is, that the atonement was origin-
al'y applicable to all men that it was not limited by its nature
to any class of men, or any particular individuals that it was
an offering made for the race,* and is, when made, in the \vide.-t
and fullest sense, the property of man; and the second is, that i-l
is actually applied to only a portion of the race, and that it \vas
ihe purpose of God that it should be so applied.f
Now in regard to the first aspect of the atonement suggested,
we can no more doubt that it had this original universal appli-
cability, than we can any of the plainest propositions of the
Bible. If this is not clear, nothing can be clear in the use of the
Greek and English tongues and we discern in this, we think, a
strict accordance with the ordinary provisions which God has
made for man. We look at any of his gifts from the smallest
that makes life comfortable, to the richest in redemption, and we
shall not find one, that in its nature, is limited in its applicability
to any class of individuals. The sun on which we look sheds
his rays on all on all alike; the air we breathe has an original
adaptation to all who may inhale it, and is ample for the want of
any number of millions. From the light of the feeblest star, to
full-orbed day ; from the smallest dew drop, to the mountain
torrent; from the blushing violet, to the far scented magnolia ;
there is an original applicability of the gifts of providence to all
the race : they are fitted to man as man, and the grandeur of
God's beneficence appears in spreading the earth with fruits and
flowers, making it one wide garden, in place of the straitened
paradise that was lost. We might defy the most acute defender
of the doctrine of limited atonement, to produce an instance in
ihe provisions of God, where there was a designed limitation in
the nature of the thing. We shall be slow to believe that God
has not a uniform plan in his mode of governing men.
But still it will be asked, what is the use of a universal atone-
ment, if it is not actually applied to all? Does God work in
vain ? Or would he make a provision in the dying groans of
his Son, that was to be useless to the universe ? We might
say here, that in our view, there is no waste of this provision,
that the sufferings which were requisite for the race, were only
those which were demanded in behalf of a single individual :
and that we are ignorant of the way of applying guages and
decimal admeasurements and pecuniary computations to a grand
moral transaction. But we reply, that it is according to God's
way of doing things, that many of his piovisions should appear
tows to be vain. We see in this, the hand of the same God
*2Cor. v. 14 If,. 1 John ii. 2. Heb ii. 9. John rii. 16,17; vi. 51. 2Pet.. i.
t Isa. liii. 10. John xvii. 2. Ejjh. i. 3 11. Rom. viii. 29,30; iv.
.624, John vi. 37, 39. 2 Tun. i. ix.
INTRODUCTORY ESSAT. xl
tint pours the rays of noon-day on barren sands, and genial
showers on desert rocks, whtve no man is to our eye, though
not to his, in v>in. Who knows not that the sun sheds his daily
beams on half the globe covered with trackless waters; and'
around thousands of dungeons where groans in darkness the
prisoner ? But some Solon or Cadmus may yet cross these
oceans, to bear law and letters to the barbarian ; some Howard
to pity and relieve the sufferer; some Xavier or Vanderkemp to
tell benighted men of the dying and risen Son of God. So we
say of the atonement. It is not useless. Other ages shall open
their eyes upoa this sun of righteousness; shall wash in this
open fountain ; shall pluck the fruit from this tree of life; shall
apply for healing to the balm of Gilead and find a physician there.
But still it was the purpose the decree of God, that this atone-
ment should be actually applied to but a part we believe ulti-
m itely a large part of the human family. By this we mean,
that it is In fact, so applied, and that this fact is the expression of
the purpose or decree in God. So it is with all the objects we
have mentioned. Food is not given to all. Health is not the
inheritance of all. Liberty, peace, and wealth, are diffused un-
equally among men. We interpret the decrees of God, so far
as we can do it, by facts ; and we say that the actual result, by
whatever means brought about, is the expression of the design
of God. Nor can any man doubt, that the dissemination of
these blessings is to be traced to t!.e ordering of God. Is it
owing to any act of man, that the bark of Peru was so long
unknown, or that the silver of Potosi slept for ages unseen by
any human eye ? Is there not evidence, that it was according
to the good pleasure of the Giver, that the favour should not be
bestowed on men till Columbus crossed the main, and laid open
the treasures and the materia medica of the west, to an avaricious
and an afflicted world ? We are here struck with another im-
portant analogy in the manner in which God's plans are de-
veloped. Who would have imagined that so important a matter
as the discovery of a new world, should have depended on the
f.ilse reasonings and fancy of an obscure Genoese ? Who would
have thought that all the wealth of Potosi, should have depended
for its discovery, on so unimportant a circumstance, as an
Indian's pullins up a shrub by accident in hunting a deer ? So
n the redemption of man, in the applicability of the atone-
ment. Who is ignorant that the reformation originated in the
private thoughts of an obscure man in a monastery. A Latin
Bible fallen on as accidentally, and a treasure as much unknown,
as Hualpi's discovery of the mines of Polosi, led the way to the
most glorious series of events since the days of the apostles.
But it is still said, that it is unreasonable for men to suffer in
consequence of not being put in possession of the universal
^tenement; and that Christianity affirms there is no hope of
salvation l>ut in the Son of God.* So it does. But the affirma-
tion is not tha< men are guilty for not being acquainted with that
* Ac.s i*. 13.
XI1V INTRODUCTOBT ESSAY.
scheme, but that they lie under the curses of the antecedent state
before mentioned, from which Christianity came to deliver.
The Hindoo suffers and dies under the rage of a burning fever.
The fault is not that he is ignorant of the virtues of quinine, nor
is he punished for this ignorance of its healing qualities ; hut he
is lying under the operation of the previous state of things, from
which medicine contemplates his rescue. Half the world are
shut out from benefits, which they might enjoy by being made
acquainted with the provisions for their help. Their sufferings
are not a punishment for this want of knowledge. Tiiey are the
operation of the system from which they might be delivered by
ihe provisions made for their welfare. How much suffering
might have been saved, had Jenner lived a century earlier. Is
it contrary then to the analogy of nature, to suppose that men
may suffer in consequence of the want of the gospel, and ev.n
that in eternity they may continue under the operation of that
previous stale of things, to which the gospel has never been
applied to relieve them ? He who opposes Christianity because
it implies that man may suffer if its healing balm is not applied,
itnows not what he says, nor whereof lie affirms. He is scoff-
ing at the analogy of the world, and calling in question the wis-
do.ii of all the provisions of God to aid suffering man.
3. On the ground of man's depravity, and of the necessity of
an atonement for sin, the gospel declares that without a change
of heart and life, none can be saved.* It affirms that contrition
for past sins, and confidence in the Son of God, are indispensable
for admission to heaven. Now we scarce know of any point on
which men so reluctate as they do here. That so sudden, tho-
rough, and permanent a revolution should be demanded, thai is
should be founded on things so unmeaning as repentance and
faith, that all men can enjoy or suffer for ever should result from
a change like this, they deem a violation -of every principle of
justice. And yet, perhaps, there is no doctrine of revelation
which is more strongly favoured by the analogy of nature. Can
any one doubt that men often experience a sudden and most
important revolution of feeling and purpose? We refer not here
to a change in religion, but in regard to- the principles and the
actions of common life? Who is ignorant that from infancy to
old age, the mind passes through many revolutions that as we
leave the confines of one condition of our being, and advance to
another, a change, an entire change, becomes indispensable, or
the whole possibility of benefitting ourselves by the new con-
dition is lost. He who carries with him into youth the playful-
ness and follies of childhood, who spends that season of 1m life
in building houses with cards, or in trundling a hoop, is charac-
terized by weakness, and must lose all the benefits appropriate to
that new period of existence. He who goes into middle life
with a "bosom that carries anger as the flint bears fire" who
has not suffered his passions to cool, and his mental frame to
become fixed in the compactness of mature and vigorous lilts
* John iii. 3, 5, 36. Mark xvi. 16.
EssAf. xh
gives a pleuVe that the bar, tlie bench, or the desk the counting.
'oom, the cti.ce, or the plough, have little demand for his ser-
vi. fs, and thnt his hopes will be for ever blasted. The truth is,
(hat flt the beginning of each of these periods, there was a
(timi^c demanded that on that change depended all that fol-
lowi-d in (he next succeeding, perhaps in every succeeding period,
nnd that, when the change does not exist, the period is charac-
teri/ed by folly, indolence, ignominy, or vice. The same remark
might be extended to old age, and to all the new circumstances
in which men may by placed. We ask, then, wfty some revolu-
tions similar m results- -we mean not in nature should not take
place in reference to the passage from lime to eternity?
But our argument is designed to bear on the great mora
change called regeneration. Now no fact, we think, is more
cou.inon, than that men often undergo a complete transformation
in their moral character. It would be dith_uli to meet, in the
most casual and transitory manner, with any individual, who
could not remark that his own life had been the subject of many
similar revolutions, and that each change fixed the character of
the subsequent period of his existence. At one period he was
virtuous. Then temptation crossed his path and the descrip-
tion which we would have given of him yesterday, would by no
means suit him to-day. Oral one time, he was profligate, pro-
fane, unprincipled. By some process, of which he could perhaps
scarce give an account, he became a different man. It might
have been gradual the result of long thought. of many reso-
lutions, made and broken, of many appeals, of much weeping,
and of many efforts to break away from his companions. Now,
what it is important for us to remark is, that this change has
given birth to a new course of life, has initiated him into a new
companionship, and has itself fired all the joys or sorrows of the
coming period Such revolutions in character seem like the
journeyings of the Arabian, wandering, he knows scarcely whi-
ther, without compass, comfort, or food, till in his progress he
tomes to a few spreading oases in the desert. His reaching this
paradise in the wide waste of sand, decides of course the nature
of his enjoyments till he has crossed it, and secures a release
from the perils of the burning desert. In human life, we have
ofieT marked an ascent to some such spot of living green: we
have seen the profligate youth leaving the scene of dissipation,
and treading with a light heart and quick step the path of virtue,
beside cool living streams and beneath refreshing bowers.
Christianity affirms that a similar change is indispensable before
man can tread the broad and peaceful plains of the skies. And
it affirms that such a change will fix the condition of all that new
state of being, or, in other words, will secure an eternal abode
beneath the tree of life, and fast by the river of GOD. We wait
to learn that, in this, religion has made any strange or unrea-
sonable demand.
It is a further difficulty in Christianity, that it should make
such amazing bliss or wo dependent on things of apparently so
Xlvi INTRODUCTORY ESSAT.
little consequence as repentance and faith. We shall not nere
attempt to show the philosophy of this, or even to set up a vindi-
cation. We affirm only that man's whole condition in this life
often depends on changes as minute, apparently as unphiloso-
phical, and as unimportant. What is seemingly of less conse-
quence in our view, when we tread the vale of years, than the
change from infancy to childhood and again to boyhood and
then even to manhood a change from one unimportant object to
another ? What is often apparently a matter of less magnitude
than fora young man to withdraw from some haunt of pleasure
a thing requiring but little resolution, hut it may be stretching
in its results to all his coming life ? A change of an opinion,
or a habit, or a companion, may be often a most unimportant
circumstance; and yet it may determine one's character for the
entire life. It is .recorded of Paley, one of the acutest and most
powerful men of the Christian church, that he was, when in
college, idle, and a spendthrift. One morning a rich and dissi-
pated fellow student came into his room with this singular
reproof, "Paley, I have been thinking what a fool you are. 1
have the means of dissipation, and can afford to be idle. You
are poor and cannot afford it. / should make nothing if I were
to apply myself. You are capable of rising to eminence, and,
pressed with this truth, I have been kept awake during the whole
night, and have now come solemnly to admonish you." To this
singular admonition, and to the change consequent upon it,
Paley owes his eminence, and the church some of the ablest
defences of the truth of religion. Now who, beforehand, would
have thought of suspending the labours of such a man, perhaps
his eternal destiny, and so many of the proofs of Christianity, on
a change wrought in a manner so singular and surprising. If
as no one can deny, man's doom in this life may depend on
revolutions of such a nature, we are ignorant of any reason why
the doom of another state may not !>e fixed by a similar law.
Perhaps the doctrine which has appeared to most infidel?
entirely unmeaning and arbitrary, is that which demands faith
as tne condition of salvation. Repentance is a doctrine of more
obvious fitness. But the demand of faith seems to be an arbi-
trary and unmeaning appointment. And yet we think it indu-
bitable, that on man's belief depends his whole conduct and de?
tiny in this life. What enterprise would have been more
unwise than that of Columbus, if he had not had a belief that by
stretching along to the west, he might reach the Indies ? What
more foolish than the conduct of Tell, and Wallace, and Wash-
ington, if not sustained by a persuasion that their country might
be free 1 What more mad than the toils of the young man bend-
ing his powers to the acquisition of learning, if he were not sus-
tained by faith in some yet unpossessed honour or emolument?
What more frantic than for the merchant to commit his treasurer
to the deep, if he did not believe that prosperous gales would re-
waft the vessel, laden with riches, into port? We might also
Bay that/a^A, or confidence in others is demanded iu every enter-
WfRODL'CTORY ESSAY.
prise that man ever undertook, and is the grand principle which
conducts it to a happy result. We need only ask \vliat would be
the condition of a child, without faith or confidence in a parent;
of a pupil, without reliance on the abilities of his teacher ; of a
subject, distrusting the sovereign ; of a soldier, doubting the skill
or prowess of his commander; of a tradesman, with no reliance
on those whom he employs? What would be the condition of
commercial transactions, if there were no established confidence
between men of different nations? What the condition of ar(s :
and of arms, if this great pervading principle were at once cut
off? In all these instances, moreover, this principle of faith is
the index and measure of the aid to be expected from others. Is
it any new principle that the child which has no confidence in a
father, usually fails of his favour; or that the pupil should fail
of benefit, if he doubts the qualifications of his teacher? And
would any single desolating blow so cripple all enterprises, and
carry such ruin into the political, the military, and the commer-
cial world, as to destroy the faith which one man reposes in
another? Is it then a strange and unknown doctrine, when reli-
gion says that the most important benefits are suspended on
faith ? -Is it any thing more than one instance of a general
principle, which confers peace and wealth on children ; learning
on the scholar; success on the tradesman; liberty on those who
?( niggle for it; and even laurels and crowns on those who pant
in the race for honour and in the conflicts of war. We do not
deem it strange, therefore, that God should have incorporated
faith into a scheme of religion; and proclaimed from pole to pole
that he who has no confidence in counsellors and guides, shall
be without the benefit of counsel and guidance; and that he who
has no confidence in the Son of God, shall be dissociated from
all the benefits of his atonement.
Let it be remembered, also, that the faith which is demanded
in the business of life, is very often reposed in some persons
whom we have never seen. How few subjects of any empire
have ever seen the monarch by whom they are governed? Nay,
perhaps the man who holds our destiny in his hand may be en
the other side of the globe. Under his charge may be the pro-
perty which we embarked on the bosom of the deep; or, it may
be, the son whom we have committed to him for instruction.
Mountains may rise, or oceans roll their billows for ever to
separate us; but the bonds of faith may be unsevered by the
C'.ildest snows, unscathed by the most burning sun, and unbroken
amid all the rude heavings of ocean, and the shocks of nations.
We ask, why may not a similar band stretch toward heaven, and
be fixed to the throne of the Eternal King ? Is it more absurd
that /should place my confidence in the unseen monarch of the
skies whom I have not seen, than that my neighbour should
place reliance on the king of the celestial empire, or of Britain,
or of Hawaii, alike unseen by him ?
But there is an amazing stupidity among men on the subject
of religion, and it cannot be, we are told, that God should make
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
eternal life dependent on matters in which men feel so little
interest. We might reply to this, that it is not the fault of God
that men are so indifferent. He has done enough to arouse them.
If the thunders of his law, the revelation of his love in redemp-
tion, and the announcement that there is a heaven and a hell,
are not adequate to arouse the faculties of man, we know not
\\hat further could be demanded. God has no other system of
wrath to. bear on human spirits ; and heaven and hell unbosom
no other topics of appeal. But we reply further, that no fact is
mere familiar to us than that all men's interests in life suffer for
want of sufficient solicitude concerning them. By mere heed-
lessness, a man may stumble down a precipice, nor will the
severity of the fall be mitigated by any plea that he was thought-
less of his danger. Thousands of estates have been wrecked by
want of timely attention. Character is often ruined, by want
of proper solicitude in selecting companions. Nay, the king of
terrors comes into our dwellings, perfectly unmoved by any
inquiry whether we were awaiting his approach or not; and
stands over our beds, and wields his dart, and chills our life-
blood, with as much coolness and certainty as if we were pay-
ing the closest attention to the evidences of his approach. And
why should we expect that mere indifference, or want of anxiety,
should avert the consequences of crime in the eternal world ?
It is also, we think, an undoubted doctrine of the Christian"
scheme, that the great change required in man is the work of
God.* And it is no small difficulty with the infidel, that so
important results are dependent on a change which owes its
existence to the will of a distant being. Yet we cannot be insen-
sible to the fact that all our mercies hang on the will of this
great, invisible God. When we say that the salubrity of the air,
the wholesomeness of water, the nutrition of plants, and the heal-
ing power of medicine, all owe their efficacy to his will, we are
stating a fact which physiology is at last coming to see and
acknowledge. At all events, man does not feel himself stiail-
ened in obligation or in effort by the fact that the success of his
exertions depends on causes unseen and unknown ? All but
atheists acknowledge that health flows through the frame of
man because God is its giver. Infancy puts on strength and
walks; childhood advances to youth; man rises from a bed of
sickness ; or fractured limbs again become compact, because (Jod
pits in the heavens, and sends down his influence to rear, to
strengthen, and to heal. Yet, does any one hesitate to put forth
his energy for wealth, or his kindness to his children; to take
medicine, or to set a bone, because all these will he inefficacious
without the blessing of God? But in all this He is as invisible,
and, for aught that Christianity teaches to the contrary, as truly
efficient, as in the work of saving men. And against all exer-
tion in these matters, lie the same objections that are urged
tgainst effec s in religion.
* John i. 13; in. 5. 8 ; Rom. is. 16, 13 ; Eph. ii. 1 j 1 Peter i. 3; I Johr
T. I ; EzK. ii. 19; Jota vi. 44, 45.
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. xlut
Nor do we deem the doctrine that man may be changed sud-
denly, and by an influence originating from some other source than
his own mind, at variance with the analogy of nature. We have
already spoken of the fact, that sudden changes often take place
in the minds of men; and that it is a doctrine of the Scriptures,
that such a change is indispensable to an admission into heaven.
We now proceed to remark, that such revolutions often bear the
marks of being brought about by an external, and often an invi-
sible, agency ; and that there are revolutions where it is net
u.2philosoph.ical to ascribe them to the great and eternal Being
in the heavens. Changes of opinion are almost uniformly (he
result of an influence foreign at first to our minds. It is the
parent, the friend, the advocate, the flatterer, or the infidel, that
has suggested the train of thought which results in an entire
revolution in our ways of thinking. It is some external change
in our business; some success or disappointment; some cutting
offour hopes by an agency not our own ; or some sudden enlarge-
ment of the opportunities for successful effort that fixes the pur-
pose and revolutionizes the principles or the life. Or it is a voice
from the tomb the remembered sentiment of the now speech-
less dead, that arrests the attention and transforms the character.
Zeno and Epicurus have thus spoken to thousands of men in
every age. Cicero ia the forum, and Plato in the schools, still
put forth an influence, stretching Jo\vn from age to age, and in
tongues unspoken by them and unknown. Voltaire and Hume
still lift their voices, and urge the young to deeds of shame and
crime, and Volney and Paine still mutter from their graves, and
beckon the world to atheism and pollution. Man may send an
influence round the globe, and command it to go from age to
ige. Now, in all these instances, the influence is as foreign and
as certain as in any power of God contemplated in revelation. To
our view, it is quite as objectionable, as a part of moral govern-
ment, that men should thus dispose each other to evil, and ulti-
mately to ruin, as that GOD should incline them to an amendment
of character, and a deliverance from the " ills which flesh is
heir to."
But how is man's freedom affected by all this? We reply,
equally in both cases, and not at all in either. Who ever felt, that
he was fettered in deriving notions of stern virtue from Seneca,
or of profligacy from Epicurus ? Who dreams there is any coin-
pulsatory process in listening to the voice of Hume, or imbibing
the sentiments of Volney ? Peter the hermit poured the thou-
sands of Europe, and almost emptied kingdoms caparisoned for
battle, on the plains of Asia. But he moved none against their
will. Patrick Henry struck the notes of freedom, and a nation
responded, and were changed from subjects of a British king to
independent freemen ; but all were free in renouncing the pro-
tection of the British crown, and their reverence for a British
ruler. God influences countless hosts, pours upon darkened
minds the love of more than mortal freedom, opens upon the
souls the " magnificence of eternity," and the renewed multitude
5
i INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
tread the path to life. Prompted to intense efforts by tne voice
that calls to heaven as he is who is led by the voice of hia
country to the field of blood, and who is changed from the peace-
ful ploughman to the soldier treading in the gore of the slain
they dream not that there is any violation of their moral freedom.
In all these cases the foreign influence exerted, (from whatever
quarter it may have come,) has only convinced them as to the
path of duty or of honour, and secured a conformity of their wills,
to that of the unseen and foreign power.
Nor does it alter the case, that in regeneration a higher influ-
ence is exerted than that of mere moral suasion, since that influ-
ence operates in perfect conformity with the laws of moral action
and the freedom of the will. In all the cases supposed, the mind
acts equally under the impulse of a foreign, unseen influence;
and in all these cases we know, by the testimony of conscious-
ness, that we are equally free. Any objection, therefore,
against the existence of such an influence in regeneration, lies
with equal force against the analogy of nature, in the whole
world of mind around us.
4. Religion affirms, that God exerts the power which he puts
forth, in pursuance of a plan, or purpose, definitely fixed before
the foundation of the world. It affirms in as intelligible a form
as any doctrine was ever expressed in any of the languages of
men, that in regard to the putting forth of his power in saving
sinners, there'Ys no chance, no haphazard ; that the scheme lay
before his eyes fully; and that his acts are only the filling up of
the plan, and were contemplated, distinctly, when God dwelt
alone, in the stillness and solitude of his own eternity.* If such
a doctrine is not revealed, we think it impossible that it could be
revealed in any language. And we knoAv of no single doctrine
that has been more universally conceded by infidels to be in the
scriptures ; none in the Bible that has been so often brought for-
ward among their alleged reasons for rejecting it as a revelation ;
none that has so frequently crossed the path of wicked men and
revealed the secret rebellion of their hearts ; none that has called
forth so much misplaced ingenuity from Socinians and Armi-
nians, and timid men who were afraid to trust the government
of the world in the hands of its maker, as if he were not qualified
for universal empire ; and none, therefore, which has in our view
such vrima facie proof that it is manifestly a doctrine of truth and
excellence. But the outcry, it seems to us, against this doctrine,
has been altogether gratuitous and unwise. For who is a
stranger to the fact, that, from infancy to old age, we are more
or less influenced by the plans or purposes of others ? The plan
o~ purpose of a parent may determine almost every thing about
the destiny of a child. The purpose to remove from regions of
pestilence and malaria, may secure his health ; the change from
one clime to another may determine the liberty he shall enjoy,
the measure of his intelligence, the profession he shall choose,
*Eph. i. 4, 5. Rom. viii. 29, 30; ix. 15, 16, 18, 21. John xvii. 2
8Thess. U. 13. John vi. 3739. 2 Tim. i. 9.
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 11
and ultimately his doom here and hereafter. Nay, the parent's
plan may fix the very college where he shall study ; the com-
panions he shall choose ; the law office, or the seminary where
be shall prepare for professional life; and finally every thing
which may establish his son in the world. So the plan of the
infidel is successful in corrupting thousands of the young ; the
purpose of Howard secured the welfare of thousands of prisoners ;
the determination of Washington resulted in the independence of
his country. In all these, and ten thousand other cases there >s
a plan formed by other beings in respect to us which finally enters
as a controlling element into our destiny. If it be said, that they
all leave us free ; so we say of the decrees of God, that we have
a like consciousness of freedom. In neither case does fbe/oretgN
purpose cripple or destroy our freedom. In neither case does it
make any difference whether the plan was formed an hour before
the act, or has stood fixed for ages. All that could bear on our
freedom would be the fact, that the purpose was previous to the
deed a circumstance that does noi alter the act ttfelf, whether
the decree be formed by ourselves, by other men, or by God.
But we remark further, that it is perfectly idle to object to the
fact, that a plan or decree is contemplated in revelation ; and that
God should confer benefits on some individuals which are with-
held from others. Did any man, in his senses, ever dream that
the race are in all respects on an equality ? Has thA^ever been
a time, when one man has had just as much heajpas another ;
when one has been as rich as another, or as muchjfenoured ? To
talk of the perfect equality of men, is one of the most unmeaning
of all affirmations respecting the world. God has made differ-
ences, is still making them, and will continue to do so. The very
frame work of society is organized on such a principle, that men
rannot be all equal. Even if the scheme of modern infidelity
should be successful if all society should be broken up ; and all
property be meted out in specific dollars and cents to the idle and
the induslriousalike ; and every man should lose his interest in his
own wife and daughter, and they should become the common
inheritance of the world, and all law should be at an end if this
scheme should go into disastrous accomplishment, what princi-
ple of perpetuity cuuld there be devised ? Who knows not that
such a chaotic mass would settle down into some kind of order,
and men be put in possession again of property, and some of the
benefits of social life be again restored? Man might belter
attempt to make all trees alike, and all hills plains, and all foun-
tains of the same dimensions, than to attempt to lerel society,
and bring the race into entire equality. To the end of time it
will he true that some will be poor while others are rich ; thai
some will be sick while others are well ; that some will be en-
dowed with gigantic intellects, and enriched with ancient and
modern learning, while others will pine in want, or walk thf
humble, but not ignoble vale of obscurity.
Now we might as well object to this fixed economy of things,
as to that which ^affirms that God dispenses the blessings of
redemption according to his good pleasure. If God may confet
one blessing on one individual which he withholds from another^
we ask why he may not be a sovereign also in the dispensation
of other favours ? We ask what principle of justice and good-
ness is violated, if he imparts penitence and faith to one indi-
vidual, that is not violated also if he gives him health while
another pines in sickness? We ask with emphasis, where is
there more of partiality in giving the Christian's hope to Brni-
nerd or Martyn, than there is in giving great talents to Newton
or great wealth to Croesus? And we put it to the sober thoughts
of those who are so fond of representing the doctrine that God
bestows special grace on one and not on another, as unjust,
tyrannical, and malignant, whether they are not lifting their voice
against the manifest analogy of nature, and all the facts in the
moral and material world ? We ask such a man to tread the
silent streets of one city where the pestilence spreads its desola-
tions, and then another filled with the din of business, and flushed
with health and gain to go through one land and see the field?
smile with golden grain, and rich with the vine and the orange,
or fragrant with aromatics, and then through another where the
heavens are brass, and the earth dust, and every green thing
withers, and every man weeps while the horrors of famine stare
him in the face ; lo ago amidst one people and hear the clangor
of arms, or another and see the squalidness of poverty, or another
and see every river studded with villages, and every village
pointing its spire to heaven, and universal peace in all its borders,
a ntS education diffusing its blessings there such observers we
ask to tell us whether the destiny of all men is equal, and irAy in
religion God may not do as he does in respect to health, to free-
dom, and to law ?
We go further. We affirm, that unless this doctrine of elec-
tion were found in the scriptures, the scheme would be t-<ken out
from all the analogy of the world. No man coM recognise a
feature of the plan on which God actually governs the universe,
unless he found there the distinct affirmation that God Lad
chosen us in Christ before the foundation of the world, and that
it is " not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of
God that showelh mercy." The system of conferring favours as
he pleases; of giving wealth, and vigour and talent, and siier<'r->
is so much a matter of sovereignty, and the secret, who sh:ill
possess these endowments, is so completely lodged in his bosom
that any scheme to be conformed to the constitution and course
of nature, must recognise this great principle, or we are shut up
to the alternative, that the present doings of God are wrong, <
the constitution of nature one of decisive evil. To us it seems,
therefore, that they strike a blow of no ordinary violence and
boldness, who denounce the purposes of God in the Bible as
dark, partial, and malignant. Nor can we conceive a more rude
assault on the whole frame-work of things, than the popular
scheme which denies that God has any purposes of special
mercy j and that he confers any spiritual blessings ou one which
INTBODTTCTORY ESSAY. liil
he does not on all, or, in other words, which attempts to s?pa-
ntv ihe >rheine of redemption from the whole analogy of things
u'lu .!.y carried on in the world.
But on this point the entire movement of the world bears the
marks of being conducted according to a plan. We defy a man
to hiy his finger on a fact, which has not such a relation to other
*a:'ts as to show that it is part of a scheme and if of a scheme,
tf.cn of a purpose fanned beforehand. Alexander the Great, in the
vigour of life, and in the full career of conquest, was cut off by
the act of God. Julian the apostate, in the same regions found
a!>o an early death, and gigantic plans were arrested by the hand
of God with reference to other great purposes in the liberty or
religion of man. Napoleon met the mighty arm of God in the
<nu\vs of the north, and the monarch fell and with him fell the
List purpose of his life. In the midst cf daring schemes, man
often falls. God wields the dart to strike in an unusual manner,
nnd the victim dies. He falls in with the great plans of the
Deity, meets snows, or lightnings, or burning heats, or piercing
colds that come round by the direction of the governor of the
world, and the man sinks, and fits plans give way to the higher
purposes of the Almighty.
Now we know, thru at any particular stage of this process we
pou'd not discover that thera was a plan or a scheme. And we
kn;'W also ihat all the objections to such a scheme, result from
looking at single portions of the plan, parts dissociated from the
whole. In this world we think there is this universal principle
to be discovered; APPARENT IRREGULARITY, RESULTING IN ULTI-
MATE ORDER. During any one of the six days of creation \ve
should scarcely have seen even the outlines of the world that ulti-
mately started up. Fix the eye on any single hour of the state
of the embryo, the egg, or the chrysalis, and who would suppose
there was any plun or purpose with reference to the man of god-
like form and intelligence ; or the beauty of the peacock, the speed
of the ostrich, the plaintive melody of the nightingale, or the
gay colours of the butterfly ? We might illustrate this fully by
a reference to the process of digestion. Who would suppose
from the formation of the chyle, that there was any thing like a
plan laid to supply a red fluid, or to give vigour to sinews, or
firmness to the bones ? So in all the works of God. We are
not surprised that unthinking men have doubted, whether God
had a plan or decree. So unlike the termination is the actual
process, and so little apparent reference is there to such a ter-
mination, that we are not amazed that men start back at the
annunciation of a decree. The truth is, that God has laid the
process of his plan and decrees much deeper than his common
acts. They require more patient thought to trace them they
are more remote and abstruse and they cannot be seen, with-
out embracing at once the commencement and termination, and
the vast array of improbable media by which the result is to be
secured. Yet to deny that God has a plan ; that his plan may
be expressed by the word purpose or decree, is as absurd as tc
5*
11V INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
deny that the emhryo is formed with reference to the future man
or the chyle to future blood, muscles, ai_d bones. Who in look-
ing upon a complicated piece of machinery would suppose that
a plan was in operation tending to the manufacture of closh, or
ihe propeJling of vessels, or the minuter works of art? AVhat
strikes the eye, is a collection of wheels moving without appa-
rent order. Two wheels shall be beside each other moving in
contrary directions; yet all shall ultimately combine to 'ht pro
duction of the contemplated result. Thus move the events of
the world ; and so apparently irregular and unharmonious, but
ultimately fixed and grand are the ways of God. As in a rnpid
swollen stream, wh^e the current rolls onward, here and there
may be observed in the heaving waters, a small portion that
seems to 'be setting in a contrary direction an eddy that
revolves near the short, or that fills the vacancy made by some
projecting tree or neck of land, yet all setting towards the ocean :
so roll on the great events in God's moral and material universe
setting onwards towards eternity in furtherance of a plan
awful, grand, benevolent.
AVe had intended to have noticed more fully the grand, peculiar
doctrine of the gospel the Trinity. But we have room only to say,
that if, in the formation of man in the structure of his mental
and corporeal powers, and in their junction if, in a being so con-
stantly before our eyes, subjected, without material change, from
age to age, to observation, to the penetration of the most keen-
sighted physiologists ; open to every analysis which the metaphy-
sician or the anatomist may choose to make; if, in the organ-
ization of such a being, there are mysteries which elude every
eye, and mock every attempt at reconciliation, we do not think
that religion is dealing out absurdities, when it tells of analogous
depths in the unseen, inapproachable, and infinite God. Let the
union of the soul and body be explained the junction of a sub-
stance, ponderable, mortal, inactive, corruptible, and thought-
less, with one where there is nothing hv.t thought an invisi-
ble, imponderable, intelligible, incorruptible, and unmeasurable
substance, having relation neithei to sight, nor hearing, nor
feeling, nor that we know of to place, and yet taking hold
by some invisible fixtures to the heavy organization, and direct-
ing all its movements, and receiving its own emotions from the
t'Ortatiorts of the outward tenement: let all this be explained,
and we think we shall be ready to advance wi'h the explanation
to any difficulty of structure in the divine mind. Nay, further,
when we look at the animal frame itself, we are met with diffi-
culties of a kindred nature, which set all our faculties at defiance.
There is a system of bones complete in itself an entire anato-
mical figure, which may be taken out and completed by itself
there is a system of arteries complete, and as capable of distinct
contemplation; there is the counterpart, an entire structure of
arteries reversed, comprising the venous system ; there is an
almost independent organization of nerves, which, but for their
frail texture, could be taken out, looked at also apart; and there
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. ly
is. an absolute set of muscles which could be set up by themselves
and separately surveyed, and yet these different systems are
driven together into the most compact form ; made to unite as
friendly brethren, and cemented and bound, so as to make up the
frame-work of man. Now, we affirm, that if these different in-
dependent systems are thus made to dwell in a single frame ;
if we have no conception of a man without all this complication,
and scarcely with it, that a revelation could be scarcely credible,
unless there were some analogous difficulties ir. the being of t
God. In his mysteries, man is the image of God, not less tha-
iu his dominion, and in the original moral image which he bore
A large field is still open on which we can make but a passing
remark we mean the analogy of the laws of Christianity to those
suggested by the constitution and course of nature. If our re
marks have been correct, then it is fair to expect that religion
would reveal such a set of laws as should be in accordance with
the course of nature that is, such as the actual order of events
should show to be conducive to the true interest and welfare of
man. We think it could be shown that the actual process of
things, has conducted mankind, after the shedding of much blood,
and after many toils of statesmen and sages, to just the set of
rules which are found for human conduct in the Old and New
Testaments. And it would be no uninteresting speculation to
inquire into the changes in opinions and laws suggested by the
history of events among nations to see how one set of enact-
ments struck out by the toils of some philosopher, and applied by
some moralist or statesman, were persevered in until set aside
by some opposing event in the government of God, and exchanged
for a better system, for one more in accordance with the course
of nature until the revolutions of centuries, have brought men
to the very laws of the scriptures, and the profoundest wisdom
has been ascertained to be, to sit at the feet of Jesus of Nazareth
and receive the law from his lips. We might remark on the law
of theft in Lacedaemon; on the views in relation to rapine and
war; on the seclusion from the world which guided the Essene
of Judea, and the monk of the early and middle ages; on the
indulgence of passion, recommended by the Epicureans ; on the
annihilation 01 sensibility, the secret of happiness, among the
Stoics ; on the law of universal selfishness, the panacea of all
human ills recommended by infidelity ; and on the laws of
honour that have guided so many men to fields of disgrace and
blood, and filled so many dwellings with weeping. In all the
iliflerent codes, we think we could show that the course of nature
lias ultimately driven men from one set of laws to another, from
ne experiment to another, until every scheme terminated in its
abandonment, or in shaping itself to the peculiar laws of the
Bible. But on this point, which is capable of very ample illus-
tration, we can do no more than simply point out the principle,
in the words of a distinguished writer of our own country.* We
omke one extract from a sermon of high originality of thought.
* President Wayland.
Ivi rNTRODUCTOSY ESSAT.
power of argument, and beauty of diction, entitled " The certain
triumph of the Redeemer."
"The laws of matter are few and comparatively simple, but
those relations are multiplied even to infinity. The law of gra-
vitation may be easily explained to an ordinary man, or even to
an intelligent child. But who can trace one half of its relations
to things solid and fluid, things animate and inanimate, the very
form of society itself, to this system, other systems, in fine, to
the mighty masses of the material universe? The mind delights
to carry out such a principle to its ramified illustrations, and
hence it cherishes as its peculiar treasure, a knowledge of the
principles themselves. Thus was it that the discovery of such
a law gave the name of Newton to immortality, reduced to har-
mony the once apparently discordant movements of our planetary
system, taught us to predict the events of coming ages, and to
explain what was before hidden from the foundation of the world.
" Now he who will lake the trouble to examine, will perceive
in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, a system of ultimate truths in
morals, in a very striking manner analogous to these elementary
laws in physics. In themselves they are few, simple, and
easily understood. Their relations, however, as in the other
case, are infinite. The moral principle by which you can easily
teach your child to regulate her conduct in the nursery, will fur-
nish matter for the contemplation of statesmen and sages. It
is the only principle on which the decisions of cabinets and
courts can be founded, and is, of itself, sufficient to guide the
diplomatist through all the mazes of the most intricate negocia-
tion. Let any one who pleases make the experiment for him-
self. Let him take one of the rules of human conduct which the
gospel prescribes, and, having obtained a clear conception of it,
iust as it is revealed, let him carry it out in its unshrinking
application to the doings and dealings of men. At first, if he be
not accustomed to generalizations of this sort, he will find much
that will stagger him, and perhaps he will be led hastily to
decide that the ethics of the Bible were never intended for prac-
tice. But let him look a little longer, and meditate a little more
intensely, and expand his views a little more widely, or become,
either by experience or by years, a little older, and he will more and
more wonder at the profoundness of wisdom, and the universality
of application of the principles of the gospel. With, the most
expanded views of society, he can go nowhere where the Bible
has not been before him. With the most penetrating sagacity
he can make no discovery which the Bible has not long ago pro-
mulgated. He will find neither application which the Bible did
not foresee, "nor exception against Avhich it has not guarded. He
will at last sink down in humble adoration of the wisdom of
Jesus of Nazareth, convinced that he is the wisest man, as well
as the profoundest philosopher, who yields himself up in meek-
ness and simplicity of spirit to the teachings of the Saviour.
Hence, there is the same sort of reason to believe that the pre-
cepts of the Bible will be read, and studied, and obeyed, as ther
IXTRODTCTORY ESSAT. lvi|
is to believe that the system of Newton will finally prevail, and
eventually banish from the languages of men the astronomical
dreams of Vishnu and Pandama."
We uo\v take our leave of the Analogy of Butler. We have
endeavoured to state the nature of the argument on which it
rests. We would say, in conclusion, that it is one of easy and
universal application. We know of no argument that is so
potent to still the voice of unbelief in the heart--to silence every
objection to all the doctrines of Christianity or to subdue the
soul, to an humble, reverential belief, that the God of creation is
the God of redemption ; and that he who clothes the sunbeam
with light, and the flower with its beauty, is the same all-present
being, that goes forth to the grander work of delivering the soul
from sin. As God will continue the process of his government,
as he will make the genial shower to rise and fertilize the earth,
as he will clothe the hills and vales with verdure and beauty, de-
spite of all the blasphemies of men ; as he will cause new flowers
to spring forth, however many the foot of hard-hearted man may
crush, and as he will cause the glory of the material system to roll
on from age to age, in spite of all the opposition and malice of
devils and of men, so, we believe, he will also cause this more glo-
rious system to ride triumphantly through the earth, and to shed its
blessings on all- the nations of the world. Man can triumph over
neither. They are based on the solid rock. The plans of men
reach them not. Parallel systems of providence and redemption
liable to the same objections, and presenting the same beauties,
testify that they have come from the same God, and are tending
to the same high developement.
We are of the number of those who do not shrink from avow-
ing the opinion thai the system of Christianity, as it has been
held in the world, is capable of progressive improvements in the
mode of its exhibition. This system, in the mind of the Son of
God, was complete, and was so given to mankind. But we think
that the world 'has not yet availed itself fully of the scheme.
No earthly being ever yet so well understood the laws of the
mind, as the Son of God ; and the system, as held by him, was
adapted to the true nature of created spirits, and to the regular
course of things. But Christianity has often been attached to
schemes of mental and moral philosophy as remote from the true
one as "from the centre thrice to the utmost pole." Now, the
improvement which we anticipate is, that men will consent to
lay aside their systems of mental science; and with them much
also of the technicalities of their theology and suffer religion to
speak in the words expressive of what Locke calls " large round-
about sense," that they will be willing to inquire first what phi-
losophy religion teaches, and then ask, if they choose, whether
that philosophy is to be found in the schools. Could all the
obstructions in the way of correct mental philosophy snd natural
science, be at once removed, we nave no doubt that the Christian
system would be seen to fall at once into the scheme of material
and mental things Now this is the kind of improvement which
Ivill INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
we expect will take p^ace in theology. An analogy could nevei
be established between theology, as it has been held, and the
common course of events. Religion, as it has been often pre-
sented, has been unlike all other things so cold, distant, unliving,
and formal, that we wonder not that men, who have had tolera-
bly correct notions of the laws of the mind and of facts, should
have shrunk from it; nor do we wonder that the preaching of
no small number of ministers should have been fitted to make
men Arminians, Socinians, or deists.
We have sat down in pensive grief, when we heard from the
lips of tyros in divinity, (as the first message which they bring
us,) solemn and unmeasured denunciations of reason in matters
of religion. We have asked ourselves whence the herald has
derived his commission to commence an assault on Avhat has
been implanted in the bosom of man by the hand of the Al-
mighty? Has the book which he holds in his hands told him to
titter unfeeling and prescriptive maledictions on all just views
of mental operations? Has God commissioned him to summon
the world to a rejection of all the lessons taught by the investi-
gations of the mind ; the decisions of conscience, and the course
of events ? Is the God who has hitherto been thought t be the
God of creation and providence, coming forth, in the old age and
decrepitude of the world, to declare that the fundamental princi-
ples of civil society, the judicial inflictions of his hand, the les-
sons taught us in parental and filial intercourse, and in the rea-
sonings of sober men with the eye upturned to heaven, have all
been delusive; and that the new revelation is to set at defiance
all that has been ascertained to be law, and all that the T'orld has
supposed to be just maxims in morals? We marvel not that
thinking men shrink from such sweeping denunciations. Nor
do we wonder that the ministry is often despised, the sanctuary
forsaken, and the day-dreams of any errorist adopted, who pro-
fesses to give them proper place to the inferences drawn from
the government of God.
It is a maxim, we think, which should rule in the hearts of
Christian men, and
" Most of all in man that ministers,
And serves the altar,"
that me world is to he convinced that Christians are not of "wees*
sity fools. And in doing this, we care not how much of sound
reason, and true philosophy, and the analogies of nature, are
brought into the sacred desk. The truth is, that religion sets up
its jurisdiction over all the operations of the mind. And the
truth is, also, that those who have done most to vilify and abuse
the use of reason, have been the very men who have incorporated
the most of false philosophy into their own systems of divinity.
It is not to be concealed, that the most ardent desire of the ene-
mies of religion is that its ministers and friends, should deal out
fierce denunciations against reason, and set up the system of
Christianity as something holding in fixed defiance all the disco*
INTRODUCTORY ESSAT. i
reries of knowledge and all the schemes of philosophy. More
than half the work of atheism is done, if the world can be per-
suaded that Christianity contemplates the surrender of the
deductions of reason and the course of the world into the hands
of infidel philosophers; nor do we know a more successful arti-
fice of the enemy of man than the schemes which have been
devised to effect such a disjunction, and to set up the Christian
plan as something that stands in irreconcilable opposition to the
course of nature, and the just process of thought.
But, if the view which we have taken of this matter is correct,
then all the works of God, far as the eye can reach, and far on
beyond, are in strict accordance with the Christian scheme.
One set of laws rules the whole; one set of principles reigns
every where ; one erand system of administration is going for-
ward. Apparent differences between the Christian scheme and
the course of events are daily becoming rarer, and soon the
whole will be seen to harmonize. The laws of mental action
are becoming better -understood : and are found to coincide more
and more with the plain, unperverted declarations of the Bible.
The Ir-iws of nations are growing more mild, tender, bloodless,
nnd forbearing. The great principles of morals are laying aside
the ferocity of the darker ages, disrobing themselves of the prin-
ciples of the Goth and the Vandal, and returning more and more
to the- simplicity of primeval life to the principles of Abraham,
" that beauteous model of an eastern prince, of David the war-
rior poet, of Daniel the far-sighted premier, of Paul the mild yet
indomitable apostle, and of Jesus the meek Son of God."
We antiripnte that the order of events, and the deductions of
reison, and the dfcisio.".b ~f the gospel, will yet be found com-
pletely to tally : so that Christianity shall come armed with the
dpuble power of having been sustained by miracles when first
promulgated and when appearing improbable, and of falling in
at l;>st with all the proper feelings and just views of the world.
As one evidence that the world is hasting to such a juncture we
remark that the views entertained of moral character have under-
gone already a transformation. "What mother would now
train her sons after the example of Achilles, and Hector, and
Agamemnon, and Ulysses?" Other models, more like the Son
of God, are placed before the infant mind. Society, in its vast
revolutions, has brought itself into accordance, in this respect,
with the New Testament. And we cannot but doubt that,
(hough the affairs of the church and the world may yet flow on
m somewhat distinct channels, yet they will finally sink into
complete and perfect harmony; like two streams rising in dis-
tant hills, and rendering fertile different vales, yet at last flowing
into the bosom of the same placid and beautiful ocean. Men
will go on to make experiments in geology, and chymistry, and
philosophy, in order to oppose ihe Bible, till scheme after scheme
shall be abandoned. They will frame theories of mental science
until they arrive at the scheme of the New Testament. They
will devise modes of alleviating misery, until they fall on the
ESSAY.
very plan suggested more than two thousand years oefore them
And they will form and abandon codes of morals, until they shal 1
come at last in their international and private affairs, to th
moral maxims of the New Testament and the world shal)
arrive at the conclusion that the highest wisdom is to set down
like children at the feet of the Son of God.
And we may perhaps be permitted here to suggest that Chris
tianity contains a provision for a perpetuity of prcof that it is
from God. We think it is idle to doubt that the evidence from
miracles is more feeble now than it was when the proofs of the
resurrection of Jesus were poured with such resistless might c.n
(he Roman empire. We mean that a missionary now, with aU
the zi)l of martyrdom, has not with him the resistlessness ot
evidence for an ancient, which the apostles had for a contempo-
raneous fact. It is more difficult for us to prove the existence
of Alexander of Macedon than it could have been for Tacitus or
Cicero. But we ask why miracles were necessary at all? It
was simply because the analogy of the new scheme to the course
of nature was not obvious and commanding. There appeared to
be an irreconcilable difference. Opinions, practices, systems,
not fully tried and abandoned, opposed it. It was necessary to
teal doion their opposition by some signal display of infinite
power. It was done. And not a system stood before the mira
cuious scheme. But as these schemes give way as they are
found to be useless and are abandoned as society converges
more and more to the simplicity in the New Testament, and as
therefore religion commends itself to the understandings of men,
and falls in with the true analogies of things, there is provision for
the increasing feebleness of the evidence from miracles and in
other ages all the evidence that shall be needed of its truth, may
be ine simple parallelism between this and all the works and
plan of God. If the comparison may not seem far drawn, the
s/rer,gfh of the evidence arising from the junction of the system
of nature and of grace, may be illustrated by the intense heat of
the Compound blow-pipe the blazing and resistless energy pro-
duced by the proper union of two independent elements, bearing
on a single point.
And here we conclude by saying that the men who promul-
gated this system were Galilean peasants and fishermen. They
had indubitably, little learning. They were strangers to the doc-
trines of the schools, to ancient and modern science, to the works
of nature and of art. No infidel can prove that they knew more
than the science necessary for the skilful management of a fish-
ing boat, or the coXection of taxes. And yet they have devised
the only scheme which turns out to be in accordance with the
course of nature; a scheme which has survived the extinction
of mo;t others prevalent in their day, a system in advance still,
no one c^n tell how much, even of our own age. Now it is a
well-known fact that, in the progress of discovery hitherto, no
man has gone much in advance of his own generation. Soci?;*
and science work themselves iuto a state for the discove. :* >
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 1x1
whicn actually take place, and hence it happens that, ahcut the
same time, the same invention is often made on both sides of
the globe. A controversy still exists respecting the discovery of
the art of punting, and gunpowder, the application of steam, the
invention of the quadrant, and many of the improvements in
chymistry. We ask then, how it has happened that these Gali-
leans stepped over all the science of their own age, established a
system in strict accordance with the course of nature, disclosed
elementary principles of morals entirely unknown to the philo-
sophy of that age, and arrived at, in the history of man, only by
/)ng and painful experiments of many thousand years? Why,
let the sceptic tell us, has not science struck out principle after
principle, that could long since have been organized into a sys-
tem which should accord with the constitution and course of
nature? To our minds, the greatest of all miracles would be,
that unaided and uninspired fishermen should have projected
such a scheme of Christianity.
Revealed religion, then, is in accordance with the course of
nature. To reason against or reject it, on the principles com-
monly adopted by infidels, is to call in question the whole system
of things around us. Nor will it answer any valuable purpose
to laugh or mock at it. " There is argument neither in drollery
nor in jibe." If, in spite of this striking accordance with the
course of nature, it can be proved false, let the evidence be fairly
brought forward. Let its miracles be set aside. Let its pro-
phecies be shown not to have been uttered. And then let it be
shown how it is that such a system has originated from such a
source ; a system which has bowed the intellects of such men
as Bacon and Locke and Boyle and Hale and Boerhaave, anu
Newton and Edwards and Dwight. But if the demonstration
cannot be made out, if a single doubt remains, it will not do to
deride this religion. It will no more do to meet the announce-
ment of hell with a jeer, than to stand and mock at convulsions,
fevers, and groans ; nor should men laugh at the judgment, any
more than at the still tread of the pestilence, or the bearings of
the earthquake; nor will it be at all more the dictate of wis-
dom to contemn the provisions of redemption than to mock the
pitying eye of a father, or to meet with contempt the peusUe
sigh of a mother over our sufferings, or to jeer at the physician
wlu Conies reverently, if it may be, to put back from us the
heavy-pressing hand of God.
THE LIFE
OF
DR BUTLER
DR JOSEPH BUTLER, a prelate of the most distinguished
character and abilities, was born at Wantage, in Berk-
shire, in the year 1692. His father Mr. Thomas Eutler.
who was a substantial and reputable shopkeeper in that
town, observing in his son Joseph* an excellent genius and in-
clination for learning, determined to educate him for the min-
istry, among the Protestant dissenters of the presbyterian
denomination. For this purpose, after he had gone through
a proper course of grammatical literature, at the free gram-
mar school of his native place, under the care of the Rev.
Mr Philip Barton, a clergyman of the Church of England,
he was sent to a dissenting acadern}^ -.hen kept at Glouces-
ter, but which was soon afterwards removed to Tewksbury.
The principal tutor of this academy was Mr Jones, a man
of uncommon abilities and knowledge, who had the honor
of training up several scholars, who became of great emi-
nence, both in the established church and among the dissen-
ters. At Tukesbury, Mr Butler made an extraordinaiy
progress in the study of divinity ; of which he gave a re-
markable proof, in the letters addressed by him while he
resided at Tukesbury, to Dr Samuel Clarke, laying before
him the doubts that had arisen in his mind, concerning the
conclusiveness of some arguments in the Doctor's demon-
stration of the being and attributes of God. The first of
these letters was dated the 4rh November, 1713 ; and the
sagacity and depth of thought displayed in it, immediately
excited Dr Clark's particular notice. This condescension
* He was the youngest of eight child reu.
THE LIFE OP
encouraged Mr Butler to address the Doctor again upon
the same subject, which likewise was answered by him
and the correspondence being carried on in three other let-
ters, the whole was annexed to the celebrated treatise before
mentioned, and the collection has been retained in all the
subsequent editions of that work. The management of
this correspondence was intrusted by Mr Butler to his friend
and fellow pupil, Mr Seeker, who, in order to conceal the
affair, undertook .to convey the letters to the post-office at
Gloucester, and to'bring back Dr Clark's answers. When
Mr Butler's name was discovered to the doctor, the candor,
modesty, and good sense, with which he hud written, imme-
diately procured him the friendship of that eminent and ex-
cellent man. Our young student was not, however, during
his continuance at Tukesbury, solely employed in metaphy
sical speculations and inquiries. Another subject of his
serious consideration was, the propriety of his becoming a
dissenting minister. Accordingly, he entered into an ex-
amination of the principles of non-conformity ; the result of
which was, such a dissatisfaction with them, as determined
iim to conform to the established church. This intention
<vas, at first, disagreeable to his father, who endeavored to
divert him from his purpose ; and, with that vieWj called in
the assistance of some eminent presbyterian divines ; but
finding his son's resolution to be fixed, he at length suffered
him to be removed to Oxford, where he was admitted a com-
moner of Oriel college, on the 17th March, 1714. And
what time he took orders doth not appear, nor who the bishop
was by whom he was ordained ; but it is certain that he
entered into the church soon after his admission at Oxford, if
it be true, as is asserted, that he sometimes assisted Mr
Edward Talbot in the divine service, at his living of Hen
dred, near Wantage With this gentleman, who was the
second son of Dr William Talbot, successively bishop of
Oxford, 'Salisbury, and Durham, Mr Butler formed an inti
mate friendship at Oriel college ; which friendship laid the
foundation of all his subsequent preferments, and procured
for him a very honorable station, when he w r as only twenty-
six years of age. For it was in 1718 that, at the recom
mendation of Mr Talbot, in conjunction with that of Di
Clarke, he was appointed by Sir Joseph Jekyll to be preach-
er at the Rolls. This was three years before he had taken
a.uy degree at the University, where he did not go out bache-
;or of law till the 10th June, 1721, which, however, was as
DR BL1LER. xV
BOOH as that degree could suitably be conferred on birr. Mr
Butler continued at the Rolls till 1726 ; in the beginning of
which } r ear he published, in one volume octavo, " Fifteen
Sermons preached at that Chapel." In the meanwhile by
the patronage of Dr Talbot, bishop of Durham, to whose
notice he had been recommended (together with Mr Ben-
son and Mr Seeker) by Mr Edward Talbot, on his death
bed, our author had been presented first to the rectory of
Haughton, near Darlington, and afterwards to that of Stan-
hope, in the same diocese. The benefice of Haughion,
was given to him in 1722, and that of Stanhope in 1725.
At Haughton there was a necessity for rebuilding a great
part of the parsonage house, and Mr Butler had neither
money nor talents for that work. Mr Seeker, tiierefore,
who had alwaj's the interest of his friends at heart, and ac-
quired a very considerable influence with Bishop Talbot,
persuaded that prelate to give Mr Butler, in exchange for
Haughton, the rectory of Stanhope, which was not only
free from any such incumbrance, but was likewise of much
superior value, being indeed one of the richest parsonages
in England. Whilst our author continued preacher at the
Rolls-Chapel, he divided his time between his duty in town
and country ; but when he quitted the Rolls, he re&ided,
during seven years, wholly at Stanhope, in the conscious
discharge of every obligation appertaining to a good parish
pnest. This retirement, however, was too solitary for his
disposition, which had in it a natural cast of gloominess.
And though his recluse hours were by no means lost, either
to private improvement or public utility, yet he felt at times,
ver}' painfully, the want of that select society of friends to
which he had been accustomed, and which could inspire him
with the greatest cheerfulness. . Mr Seeker, therefore, who
knew this, was extremely anxious to draw him out into a
more active and conspicuous scene, and omitted no opportu
nity of expressing this desire to such as he thought capable
of promoting it. Having himself been appointed king's
chaplain, in 1732, he took occasion, in a conversation which
he had the honor of holding with Queen Caroline, to men-
tion to her his friend Mr Butler. The queen said she
thought he had been dead. Mr Seeker assured her he was
not. Yet her Majesty afterwards asked Archbishop Black-
burn if he was not dead ; his answer was, " No, madam ;
but he is buried." Mr Seeker confirming his purpose of
endeavouring to bring his friend out of his retirement, found
6*
THE LIFE OF
means, upon Mr Charles Talbot's being made lord chansel
lor, to have Mr Butler recommended to him for his chaplain.
His lordship accepted, and sent for him ; and this promotion
calling him to town, he took Oxford in his way, and was ad
mitted there to the degree of doctor of law, on the Sth
December, 1733. The lord chancellor, who gave him also
a prebend in the church of Rochester, had consented that
he should reside at his parish of Stanhope one half of the
year.
Dr Butler being thus brought back into the world, his
merit and his talents soon introduced him to particular no-
tice, and paved the way for his rising to those high dignities
which he afterwards enjoyed. In 1736 he was appointed
clerk of the closet to queen Caroline ; and in the same year,
he presented to her majesty a copy of his excellent treatise,
entitled, " The Analogy of Religion, Natural and Revealed,
to the Constitution and Course of Nature." His attendance
upon his royal mistress, by her especial command, was from
seven to nine in the evening every day ; and though this
particular relation to that excellent and learned queen was
soon determined by her death in 1737, yet he had been so
effectually recommended by her, as well as by the late Lord
Chancellor Talbot, to his Majesty's favor, that in the next
year he was raised to the highest order of the church, by a
nomination to the bishopric of Bristol ; to which see he was
consecrated on the Third December, 1738. King George
II. not being satisfied with this proof of his regard to Dr
Butler, promoted him, in 1740, to the deanery of St Paul's,
London ; into which he was installed on the 24th May in
that year. Finding the demands of this dignity to be in-
compatible with his parish duty at Stanhope, he immediate-
ly reoigned that rich benefice. Besides our prelate's unre-
miited attention to his peculiar obligations, he was called
upon to preach several discourses on public occasions, which
were afterwards separately printed, and have since been an-
cexed to the latter editions of the sermons at the Rolls-
JhapeL In 17-16, upon the death of Dr Egerton, bishop
of Hereford, Dr Butler was made clerk of the closet to the
King ; and on the 16th October, 1750, he received another
distinguished mark of his Majesty's favor, by being transla-
ted to the see of Durham. This was on the 16th of Octo-
ber in that year, upon the decease of Dr Edward Chandler.
Our prelate being thus appointed to preside over a diocese
with which he had long been connected, delivered his first;
DR BUTLER.
and indeed his last charge to his clergy, at. hi? primary visi
tat ion in 1751. The principal object of it was, ' Externa.
Religion.' The bishop having observed, with deep concern
the great and growing neglect of serious piety in the king-
dom, insisted strongly on the usefulness of outward forms
and institutions, in fixing and preserving a sense of devotion
and duty in the minds of men. In doing this, he was
thought by several persons to speak too favourably of Pa-
g,n\ and Popish ceremonies, and to countenance in a certain
degree, the cause of superstition. Under that apprehension
an able and spirited writer, who was understood to be a
rlergvuian of the Church of England, published in 1752, a
pamphlet, en ! i:led, ' A Serious Inquiry into the Use and
Importance of External Religion ; occasioned by some pas-
sages in l he Right Rev. the Lord Bishop of Durham's
Charge to the Clergy of that Diocese ; Humbly addressed
to his Lordship.' M.tny persons, however, and we believe the
greater part of the Clergj- of the diocese, did not think our
prelate's Charge so exceptionable as it appeared to this au
thor. The Charge, being printed at Durham, and having
never been annexed to any of Dr Butler's other works, is
now become extremely scarce ; and it is observable, that i'
is (he only one of his publications which ever produced him
a direct literary antagonist.*
By this promotion, our worthy bishop was furnished with
ample means of exerting the virtue of charity ; a virtue
which eminently abounded in him, and the exercise ol
which was his highest delight. But this gratification he
did not long enjoy. He had been but a short time seated in
his new bishopric, when his health began visibly to decline ;
and having been complimented, during his indisposition, up-
on account of his great resignation to the divine will, he is
said to have expressed some regret that he should be taken
from the present world so soon after he had been rendered
capable of becoming much more useful in it. In his List
illness he was carried to Bristol, to try the waters of that
place ; but these proving ineffectual, he removed to Bath,
where, being past recovery, he died on the 16th of June,
1752. His corpse was conveyed to Bristol, and interred in
the cathedral there, where a monument, with an inscription,
is erected to his memory.
On the greatness of Bishop Butlej's character we need
* This Charge, with all the rest of Bishop Butler's writings, is included
n the present edition of his works.
THE LIFE OF DR. BUTLER.
not enlarge ; for his profound knowledge, and the prodigious
strength of his rnind, are amply displayed in his incompara-
ble writing. His piety was of t.he most serious and fervent,
and, perhaps somewhat of the ascetic kind. His benevo-
lence wa? warm, generous, and diffusive. Whilst he was
bishop of Bristol he expended, in repairing and improving the
episcopal palace, f>ur thousand pounds, which is said tu
have been more than the whole revenues of bithupvir
amounted to, during his continuance in that see. Besides luf
private benefactions, he was a contributor to the infirmary ai
Bristol, and a subscriber to three of the hospitals at London.
He was likewise a principal promoter, though not the first
founder of the infirmary at Newcastle, in Northumberland, li.
supporiing the hospitality and dignity of the rich and pow-
erful diocese of Durham, he was desirous of imitating ihe
spirit of his patron, Bishop Talbot. In this spirit he *e(
apart three days every week for the reception and enienain
ment of the principal gentry of the country. Nor were
even the clergy who had the poorest benificee neglected by
him. He not only occasionally invited them o dine with
him, but condescended to visit them at their respeciive par-
ishes. By his will he left five hundred pounds to the Socie-
ty for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts and some
legacies to his friends and domestics. His executor and
residuary legatee was his chaplain, the Rev. Dr Nathaniel
Forster, a divine of distinguished literature. Bishop Butler
was never married. Soon after his decease, the following-
lines, by way of epitaph, were written concerning him ; and
were printed first, if we recollect aright, in the London Ma
gazine.
Beneath this marble, Butler lies entombed,
Who, with a soul en'lamed hv love divine,
His life in pi ?senee of his God consumed.
Like the bright lamps before ihe holy shrine.
His aspect pleasing, mind with learning fraught,
His eloquence was like a chain of gold,
That the wild passions of mankind controlled;
Merit wherever to be (bund, he sought.
Desire of transient riches he liad none ;
These ho, \vith bounteous hand, did well dispense
Bent to fulfil theend-iof Providence;
His heart still fixed on an immortal crown;
His hoart a mirror was, of purest kind,
Where the bright in.ageof his Maker shined ;
Reflecting faithful to tne throne above,
The arradiant glories of the Mystic Dove.
PREFACE
BY
THE EDITOR.
1 Wlirn I consider how light a matter very often subjects the best 'estate
' li^hed characters to ttie suspicions of posteir.y, posterity often as uiaiig-
'nant to virtue as the a^e that saw it was enviousof its glory ; and how
'readv a reiiiote a<e is to catch at a low revived slander, which the times
'that brought it forth saw despised and forgotten almost in its birth, I
'cannot but ttii:ik it a matter that deserves attention.' Letter to the
Editor of the letters on the Spirit uf Patriotism, if-c. by BISHOP
WAKBUKTON. See his works, vol. vii. p. 547. - ' '
THE Charge to the Clergy of the Diocese of Durham
was printed and published in the year 1751, by the learned
prelate whose name it bears; and, together with the Ser
mons and Analogy of the same writer, both too well known
to need a more particular description, completes the collection
of his works. It has long been considered as a matter ol
curiosity, on account of its scarceness ; and it is equally
curious on other accounts its subject, and the calumny
to which it gave occasion of representing the Author as ad-
dicted to superstition, as inclined to popery, and as dying in tht
communion of the church of Rome. The improved edition of
the Biographia Britannica. published under the care of Dr
Kippis, having unavoidably brought this calumny again in-
to no ice, it may not be unseasonable to offer a few reflec-
tions in this pUce, by way of obviating any impressions that
maj hence arise. to the disadvantage of so great a character
as that of the late Bishop Butler, referring those who de-
sire a more particular account of his life, 10 the third volume
of the same entertaining work, printed in 1784. Art. BUT-
LER, (Joseph.)*
* The account here alluded to, the reader will observe, is prefixed to
the prcivut i-ditijn ol' Butler's works.
IxX PREFACE
I. The principal design of the Bishop in his Charge is, to"
exhort his clergy to ' do their part towards reviving a prac-
tical sense of religion amongst the people committed to then
care ;' and, as one way of effecting th:s, to ' instruct, them ir>
f he importance of external religion* or the usefulness of out-
ward observances in promoting inward piety. Now, from
the compound nature of man, consisting of two part:?, iht.
body and the mind, together with the influence which ihest
an; found to have on one another, it follows, lhat the religious
regard of such a creature Qiighr, to be, so framed, as to be ir.
some way properly accommodated to both. A religion which
is purely spiritual, stripped of every thing that may effeci
the sense, and considered only as a divine philosophy of ihe
mind, if it do not mount up into enthusiasm, as has frequent-
ly been the case, often sinks, after a few short fervours, into
indifference ; an abstracted invisible object, like that which
natural religion offers, ceases to move or interest the heart :
and something farther is wanting to bring it nearer, and ren-
der it more pleasant to our view, than merely an intellectual
contemplation. On the other hand, .when, in order to reme-
dy this inconvenience, recourse is had to instituted forms and
ritual injunctions, there is always danger lest men be tempt
ed to rest entirely on these and persuade themselves that t
painful attention to such observances will atone for the want
of genuine piety and virtue. Yet, surely, there is a way ol
steering safely between these two extremes ; of so consult-
ing both the parts of our constitution, that the body and the
mind may concur in rendering our religious services accepta-
ble to God, and at the same time useful to ourselves. And
what way can this be, but precisely that which is recom-
mended in the Charge ; such a cultivation of outward as
well as inward religion, that from both may result, what is
the point chiefly to be laboured, and at all events to be se-
cured, a correspondent temper and behaviour ; or, in other
words, such an application of the forms of godliness, as may
be subservient in promoting the power and spirit of it ? No
man, who believes the. Scriptures of the Old and New Tea-
lament, and understands what he believes, but must know,
that external religion is as much enjoined, and constitutes as
real a part of revelation, as that which is internal. The
many ceremonies in use among the Jews, in consequence of
a divine command ; the baptism of water, as an emblem of
moral purity ; the eating and drinking of bread and wine, as
symbols and representations of the body and blood of (Ji.iist
BY THE EDITOR.
required of Christians, are proofs of this. On comparing
these two parts of religion together, one, it is immediately
seen, is of much greater importance than the other ; anil,
whenever they happen to interfere, is always to be preferred ;
but does it follow from hence, that therefore that, oiher is of
little or no importance, and in cases where there is no com-
petition, may entirely be neglected ! Or rather, is not the
legitimate conclusion directly the reverse, that nothing is to
be looked upon as of little importance, which is of anv c iisc
at all in preserving upon our minds a sense of the divine
authority, which recalls, to our remembrance the obligations
we are under, and helps to keep us, as the Scripture expresses
it, ' in the fear of the Lord all the day long 1* If, to adopt the
instance mentioned in the Charge, the sight of a Church
should remind a man of some sentiment of piety ; if, from
the view of a material building dedicated to*"the service of
God, he should be led to regard himself, his own body, as a
living 'temple of the Holy Ghost,'| and therefore, no moie
than the other, to be profaned or desecrated by any thing
that defileth or is impure ; could it be truly said of such a
one that he was superstitious, or mistook the means of reli-
gion for the end 1 If to use another, and what has been
thought a more obnoxious instance, taken from the Bishop's
practice, a cross, erected in a place of public worship,;}; should
cause us to reflect on him who died on a cross for our salva-
tion, and on the necessity of our ' own dying to sin,'|| and
of crucifying the flesh with its affections and lusts ; would
any worse consequences follow from such sentiments so ex-
cited than if the same sentiments had been excited by the
view of a picture, of the crucifixion suppose, such as is com-
monly placed, and with this very design, in foreign churches,
and indeed in many of our own ? Both the instances here
adduced, it is very possible, may be far from being approved,
even by those who are under the most sincere convictions
of the importance of true religion ; and it is easy to con-
ceive how open to scorn and censure they must be from oth-
ers, who think they have a talent for ridicule, and have ac-
customed themselves to regard all pretensions to piety as hy-
pocritical or superstitious. But ' Wisdom is justified of her
children. 'IT Religion is what it is, whether men will hour,
or whether they will forbear ;** and whatever in the smallest
* Prov. xxiii. 17. t 1 Cor. vi. 19
* Sec note A, at the end of this Preface.
B Rom. vi. 11. Gal v. 24 If Matt, xi 19. ** Ezek. ii. 5,
PREFACE
degree promotes its interests, and assists us in performing its
commands, whether that assistance be derived from the me-
dium of the body or the mind, ought to be esteemed of great
weight, and deserving of our most serious attention.
However, be the danger of superstition what it may, no
one was more sensible of that danger, or more earnest in
maintaining, that external acts of themselves are nothing,
and that moral holiness, as distinguished from bodily observ-
ances of every kind, is that which constitutes the essence of
religion, than Bishop Butler. Not only the Charge itself,
the whole intention of which is plainly nothing more than to
enforce the necessity of practical religion, the reality as \veli
as form, is a demonstration of this, but many passages be-
sides to the same purpose, selected from his other writings.
Take the two following as specimens. In his Analogy he
observes thus : ' Though mankind have, in all ages, been
greatly prone to place their religion in peculiar positive riles,
by way of equivalent for obedience to moral precepts ;
yet, without making any comparison at all between them,
the nature of the thing abundantly shows all notions of that
kind to be utterly subversive of true religion ; as they are,
moreover, contrary to the whole general tenor of Scripture,
and likewise to the most express particular declarations of
it, that nothing can render us accepted of God without mor
al virtue.'* And to the same purpose in his sermon preach
ed before the Societj' for the Propagation of the Gospel, in
February, 1738-9. ' Indeed, amongst creatures naturally
formed for religion, yet so much under the power of imagi-
nation as men are, superstition is an evil which can never be
out of stght. But even against this, true religion is a
great security, and the only one. True religion takes up
that place in the mind, which superstition would usurp, and
so leaves little room for it ; and likewise lays us under the
strongest obligations to oppose it. On the contrary, the
danger of superstition cannot but be increased by the preva-
ence of irreligion ; and, by its general prevalence, the evil
will be unavoidable. For the common people, wanting a re-
ligion, will, of course, take up with almost any superstition
which is thrown in their way ; and, in process of time, amidst
the infinite vicissitudes of the political world, the leaders of
parlies will certainly be able to serve themselves of that su-
perstition, whatever it be, which is getting ground ; and will
* Analogy, Part ii. Chap. 1.
BY THE EDITOR.
not fail to carry it to the utmost length their occasions re-
quire. The general nature of the thingr shows this ; and
history and fact confirm it. It is therefore wonderful, those
people who seem to think there is but one evil in life, that of
superstition, should not see that atheism and profaneness must
be the introduction of it.'*
He, who can think and write in such a manner, can
never be said to mistake the natufe of real religion : And
he, who, after such proofs to the contrary, can persist in as-
serting of so discreet and learned a person, that he was addict-
ed to superstition, must himself be much a stranger both to
truth and charity.
And here it may be worth our while to observe, that the
same excellent prelate, who by one set of men was suspect-
ed of superstition, on accouut of his charge, has by another,
been represented as leaning to the opposite extreme of enthu
siasm, on account of his two discourses On the Love of God.
But both opinions are equally without foundation. He was
neither superstitious, nor an enthusiast ; his mind was much
too strong, and his habits of thinking and reasoning much
too strict and severe, to suffer him to descend to the weak-
nesses of either character. His piety was at once fervent
and rational. When impressed with a generous concern for
the declining cause of religion, he laboured to revive its dy-
ing interests ; nothing, he judged, would be more effectual
to that end, among creatures so much engaged with bodily
things, and so apt to be affected with whatever strongly so-
licits the senses, as men are, than a religion of such a frame
as should in its exercise require the joint exertions of the
body and the mind. On the other hand, when penetrated
with the dignity and importance of ' the first and great com-
mandment,'! love to God, he set himself to inquire, what
those movements of the heart are, which are due to Him
the Author and Cause of all things ; he found, in the cool
est way of consideration, that God is the natural object of
the same affections of gratitude, reverence, fear, desire
of approbation, trust and independence, the same affec-
tions in kind, though doubtless in a very disproportionate de-
gree, which any one would feel from contemplating a perfect
character in a creature, in which goodness, with wisdom i nd
power, are supposed to be the predominant qualities, with
the further circumstance, that this creature was also his gov-
Senn. xvi - 7 1 Matt. jadi. 88
PREFACE
m
ernor and friend. The subject is manifestly a real ono; there
is nothing in it fanciful or unreasonable : This way of being
affected towards God is piety, in the strictest sense. This
is religion, considered as a habit of mind ; a religion, suited
to the nature and condition of man.*
II. From superstition to popery the transition is easy : No
wonder then, that in the progress of detraction, the simple
imputation of the former of these, with which the attack on
the character of our author was opened, should be followed
by the more aggravated imputation of the latter. Nothing,
I think, can fairly be gathered in support, of such a sugges-
tion from the Charge, in which popery is barely mentioned,
and occasionally only, and in a sentence or two ; yet even
there, it should be remarked, the Bishop takes care to de-
scribe the peculiar observances required by it, ' some, as in
themselves wrong and superstitious, and others of them as
being made subservient to the purposes of superstition.'
With respect to his other writings, any one at all conversant
with them needs not to be told, that the matters treated of.
both in his sermons and his Analogy, did, none of them, di-
rectly lead him to consider, and much less to combat, the
opinions, whether relating to faith or worship, which are pe-
culiar to the church of Rome. It might therefore have hap-
pened, yet without any just conclusion arising from thence,
of being himself inclined to favour those opinions, that, he
had never mentioned, eo much as incidentally, the subject
of popery at all. But fortunately for the reputation of the
Bishop, and to the eternal disgrace of his calumniators, even
this poor resource is wanting to support their malevolence.
In his Sermon at St Bride's before the Lord Mayor in 1740,
after having said that ' Our laws, and whole constitution, go
more upon supposition of an equality amongst mankind,
than the constitution and laws of other countries ;' he goes
on to observe, that ' this plainly requires, that more particu-
lar regard should be had to the education of the lower peo
pie here, than in places where they are born slaves of pow
?r, and to be made slaves of superstition ;'"\ meaning evidently
in this place, by the general term superstition, the particulai
f Trors of the Romanists. This is something ; but we have
a still plainer indication what his sentiments concerning po-
pery really were, from another of his additional Sermons, 1
mean that before the House of Lords on June llth, 1747,
* See ucfte B, at the end of this Preface, T Senn. xvii.
BY THE EDITOll. 1.XXV
ihe anniversary of his late Majesty's accession. The pas-
sage alluded to is as follows ; and my readers will not be dis-
pleased that I give it them at length : ' The value of our re-
ligious establishment ought to be very much heightened in
our esteem, by considering what it is a security from; I mean
that great corruption of Christianity, popery, which is ever
hard at work to bring us again under its yoke. VThoevm
will consider the popish claims, to the disposal of the whole
earth as of divine right, to dispense with the most sacred en-
gagements, the claims to supreme absolute authority in reli-
gion ; in short, the general claims which the Canonists ex-
press by the words, plenitude of power whoever, I say, will
consider popery as it is professed at Home, may see, that il
is manifest open usurpation of all human and divine author-
ity. But even in those Roman catholic countries where
these monstrous claims are not admitted, and the .civil power
does, in many respects, restrain the papal ; yet persecution
is professed, as it is absolutely enjoined by what is acknowl-
edged to be their highest authoiity, a general counsel, so
called, with the Pope at the head of it ; and is practised in
all of them, I think, without exception, where it can be done
safely. Thus they go on to substitute foroe instead of ar-
gument ; and external profession made by force, instead of
reasonable conviction. And, thus corruptions of the gross-
est sort have been in vogue, for many generations, in many
parts of Christendom and are so still, even where popery ob-
tains in its least absurd form. And their antiquity and wide
extent are insisted upon as proof of their truth ; a kind of
proof, which at best can only be presumptive, but which lo-
ses all its little veight, in proportion as the long and large
prevalence of such corruptions have been obtairied by force.'*
In another part of the same Sermon, where he is again
speaking of our ecclesiastical constitution, he reminds his
audience that it is to be valued, 'not because it leaves us at
liberty to have as little religion as we please, without bemgac-
countablc to human judicatories ; buibecauseitexhibiistooui
view, and enforces upon our consciences, genuine Christiani-
ty, free from the superstitions with which it is defiled in other
countries ;' which superstitions, he observes, ' naturally tend
to abate its force.' The date of this Sermon should be here
attended to. It was preached in June, 1747 ; that is, four
years before the delivery and publication of the Charge
* Sena. xx.
1XXV1 PREFACE
A
which was in the year 1751 ; and exactly five years before
the author died, which was in June, 1752. We have then,
in the passage now laid before the readers, a clear and une-
quivocal proof, brought down 10 within a few years of Bi-h-
op Butler's death, that popery was held by him in the ut-
most abhorrence, and that he regarded it in no o;her light,
than as the great corruption of Christianity, and a manifest,
open usurpation of all human and divine authority. The argu-
ment is decisive ; nor will any thing be offeree to invalidate
it, unless from some after-act during the short remainder of
the Bishop's life, besides that of delivering and printing hi?
Charge, (which, after what I have said here, and in the
Notes added to this Preface, and to the Charge, I must have
leave to consider as affording no evidences at all of Ins in-
clination to papistical doctrines or ceremonies) the contrary
shall incontrovertibly appear.
III. On such after-act, however, has been alleged, which
would effectually demolish all that we have urged in be-
half of our Prelate, were it true, as *is pretended, thai he
died in the communion of the Church of Rome. Had a story
of this sort been invented and propagated by papists, the
wonder might have been less.
Hoc Ithacus relit, ct magno merccntur Atridee.
But to the reproach of Protestantism, the fabrication of
this calumny, for such we shall find it, originated from
among ourselves. It is pretty remarkable, that a circum-
stance so extraordinary should never have been divulged till
the year 1767, fifteen years after the Bishop's decrease. At .
that time Dr Thomas Seeker was archbishop of Canterbu-
ry ; who, of all others, was the most likely to know the
truth or falsehood of the fact asserted, having been educated
vith our Author in his early youth, and having lived in a
constant habit of intimacy with him to the very time of his
death. The good Archbishop was not silent on this occa-
sion ; with a virtuous indignation he stood forth to protect
the posthumous character of his friend ; and in a public
newspaper, under the signature of JClisopseudes, called upon
has accuser to support what he had advanced, by whatever *
proofs he could. No proofs, however, nor any thing like a .
proof, appeared in reply ; and every man of sense and can-
* See note C, at the end of this Prefece.
BT THE EDITOR.
Ixxvii
dor at that time was perfectly convinced the assertion was
entirely groundless.* As a further confirmation of the rec-
iiiude of this judgment, it may not be amiss to mention,
t he-re is yet in existence a strong presumptive argument at
least in its favor, drawn from the testimony of those who at
(ended our Author in the sickness of which he died. The
last days of this excellent prelate were passed at Bath ; Dr
Nathaniel Forster, his chaplain, being continually with him ;
and for one day, and at the very end of his illness, Dr Mar-
tin Benson also, the then Bishop of Gloucester, who short-
ened his own life in his pious haste to visit his dying friend
Both these persons constantly wrote letters to Dr fe'ecker,
then Bishop of Oxford, containing accounts of Bishob But-
ler's declining health, and of the symptoms and progress of
his disorder, which, as was conjectured, soon terminated, his
death. These letters, which are still preserved in the Lam-
beth Library,* I have read and not the slenderest argu-
ment can be collected from them, in justification of the ridi-
culous slander we are here considering. If at this awful
season the Bishop was not known to have expressed any
opinion tending to show his dislike to popery, neither was he
known to have said any thing, that could at all be construed
in approbation of it ; and the natural presumption is, that
whatever sentiments he had formerly entertained concerning
that corrupt system of religion, he continued to entertain
them to the last. The truth is, neither the word nor the
idea of popery seems once to have occured either to the
Bishop himself, or to those who watched his parting mo-
ments ; Their thoughts w^ere otherwise engaged. His dis-
order had reduced him to such debility, as to render him in-
capable of speaking much or long on any subject ; the few
bright intervals that occured were passed in a state of the
utmost tranquillity and composure ; and in that composure
he expired. ' Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright ;
for the end of that man. is peace.'f ' Let me die the death
of the righteous, and let my last end be like his.'+
Out of pure respect for the virtues of a man, whom I had
never the happiness of knowing, or even of seeing, but from
whose writings I have received the greatest benefit and illu-
mination, and which I have reason to be thankful to Provi-
dence for having early thrown in my way, I have adventur-
ed, iu what 1 have now offered to the public, to step foith in
* See note D, at the end of this Preface.
t Psalm xxxvii. 37. } Numb, xxiit. 10.
7*
PREFACE
ttis defence, and to vindicate his honest fame from the attacks
of those, who, with the vain hope of bringing down siiperi
or characters to their own level, are for ever at work in de-
tracting from their just praise. For the literary reputation
of Bishop Butler, it stands too high in the opinion of the
world, to incur the danger of any diminution ; but this in
truth, is the least of his excellencies. He was more than a
good writer, he was a good man ; and what is an addition
even to this eulogy, iie was a sincere Christian'. His whole
study was directed to the knowledge and practice of sound
morality and true religion ; these he adorned by his life, and
has recommended to future ages in his writings ; in which,
if my judgment be of any avail, he has done essential ser-
vice to both, as much, perhaps, as any single prison, since
the extraordinary gifts of ' the word of wisdom and the word
of knowledge'* have been withdrawn.
In what follows I propose to give a short account of the
Bishop's moral and religious systems, as these are collected
from his works.
1. His way of treating the subject of morals is to be
gathered from the volume of his Sermons, and particularly
from the three first, and from the preface to thai volume.
' There is,' as our author with singular sagacity has ob-
served, ' a much more exact correspondence between the
natural and moral world, than we are apt to take notice off
The inward frame of man answers to his outward condition ;
the several propensities, passions, and affections, implanted in
our hearts by the Author of nature, are in a particular manner
adapted to the circumstances of life in which he hath placed
us. This general observation, properly pursued, leads to
several important conclusions. The original internal con-
stitution of man, compared with liis external condition, ena-
bles us to discern what course of action and behaviour that
constitution leads to, what is our duty respecting that con-
dition, and furnishes us besides with the most powerful ar-
guments to the practice of it.
What the inward frame and constitution of man is, is a
question of fact ; to be determined, as other facts are, from
experience, from our internal feelings and external senses
* 1 Cor. xil 8. t Serm. ni.
BY THE EDITOR.
and from the testimony of others. Whether human nature,
and the circumstances in which it is placed, might not have
been ordered otherwise, is foreign to our inquiry, and none
of our concern. Our province is, taking both of these as
they are, and viewing the connexion between them, from
that connexion to discover, if we can, what course of action
is fitted to that nature and those circumstances. From con-
templating the bodily senses, and the organs or instruments
adapted to them, we learn that the eye was given to see
with, the ear to hear with. In like manner, from consider-
ing our inward perceptions and the final causes of them, we
collect that the feeling of shame, for instance, was given to
prevent the doing of things shameful ; compassion, to carry
us to relieve others in distress ; anger, to resist sudden vio-
lence offered to ourselves. If, continuing our inquiries in
this way, it should at length appear, that the nature, the
whole nature of man leads him to, and is fitted for, that par-
ticular course of behaviour which we generally distinguish-
ed by the name of virtue, we are authorized to conclude,
that virtue is the law we are born under, that it was so in-
tended by the Author of our being ; and we are bound by
the most intimate of all obligations, a regard to our own
high interest and happiness, to conform to it in all situations
and events.
Human nature is not simple and uniform, but made up
of several parts ; and we can have no just idea of it as a
system or constitution, unless we take into our view
the respects and relation which these parts have to each
other. As the body is not one member, but many ; so
our inward structure consists of various instincts, appetites,
and propensions. Thus far there is no difference between
human creatures and brutes. But besides these common
passions and affections, there is another principle pecu-
liar to mankind, that of conscience, moral sense, reflection,
call it what you please, by which they are enabled to review
their whole conduct, to approve of some actions in them-
selves, and to disapprove of others. That this principle will
of course have some influence on our behaviour, at least at
times, will hardly be disputed ; but the particular influence
wnich it ought to have, the precise degree of power in the
regulating of our internal frame that is assigned it by Him
who placed it there, is a point of the utmost consequence in
itself, and on the determination of which, the very hinge of
our Author's Moral System turns. If the faculty here spo
iXXX PREFACE
ken of be, indeed, what it is asserted to be, in nature and
kind, superior to every other passion and affection ; if it be
given, not merely that it may exert its force occasionally, 01
as our present humour or fancy may dispose us, but that it
may at all times exercise an uncontrollable authority and
government over all the rest ; it will then follow, that, in or-
der to complete the idea of human nature as a system, we
must not only take in each particular bias, propension, in-
stinct, which are seen to belong to it, but we must add, be-
sides, the principle of conscience, together with the subjec-
tion that is due to it from all the other appetites and passions ;
just as the idea of a civil constitution is formed, not barely
from enumerating the several members and ranks of which
it is composed, but from these considered as acting in vari-
ous degrees of subordination to each other, and all under
the direction of the supreme authority, whether that authori-
ty, be vested in one person or more.
The view here given of the internal constitution of man,
and of the supremacy of conscience, agreeable to the con-
ceptions of Bishop Butler, enables us to comprehend the
force of that expression, common to him and the ancient
moralists, that virtue consists hi following nature. The
meaning, cannot be, that it consists in acting agreeably to
that propensity of our nature which happens to be the stron-
gest ; or which propels us towards certain objects without any
regard to the methods by which they are to be obtained; but
the meaning must be, that virtue consists in the due regulation
and subjection of all the other appetites and affections to the
superior faculty of conscience ; from a conformity to which
alone our actions are properly natural, or coneepondent to
the nature, to the whole nature, of such an agent as man.
From hence too it appears, that the Author of our frame is
by no means indifferent to virtue and vice, or has left us at
liberty to act at random, as humour or appetite may prompt
us ; but that every rnan has the rule of right within hin> ;
a rale attended in the very notion of it with authority, and
such as has the force of a direction and a command from
Him who made us what we are, what course of behaviour
is suited to our nature, and which he expects that we should
follow. This moral faculty implies also a presentiment and
apprehension, that the judgment which it passes on our ac-
tions, considered as of good or ill desert, will hereafter be
confirmed by the unerring judgment of God ; when virtue
and happiness, vice and misery, whose ideas are now so
BY THE ED1TOH.
closely connected, shall be indissolubly united, and the divine
government be found to correspond in the most exact propor-
tion to the nature he has given us. Lastly, this just preroga-
tive or supremacy of conscience it is, which Mr Pope has
described in his Universal Prayer, though perhaps, he may
have expressed it rather too strongly where he says,
' What conscience dictates to be done
Or warns me not to do,
This teach me more than hell to shun,
That, more than heaven pursue.'
The reader will observe, that this way of treating the
subject of morals, by an appeal to facts, does not at all inter-
fere with that other way, adopted by Dr Samuel Clarke and
others, which begins with inquiring into the relations and
fitness of things, but rather illustrates and confirms it. That
there are essential differences in the qualities of human ac-
tions, established bynature,and that this natural difference of
things, prior to and independent of all will, creates a natural
fitness in the agent to act agreeably to it, seems as little to
be denied, as that there is the moral difference before explain-
ed, from which we approve and feel a pleasure in what is
right, and conceive a distaste to what is wrong. Still, how-
ever, when we are endeavoring to establish either this mo-
ral or that natural difference, it ought never to be forgotten,
or rather it will require to be distinctly shown, that both of
these, when traced up to their source, suppose an intelligent
Author of nature, and moral ruler of the world ; who ori-
ginally appointed these differences, and by such an appoint-
ment has signified his will that we should conform to them,
as the only effectual method of securing our happiness on the
whole under hu government.* And of this consideration our
prelate himself was not unmindful ; as may be collected
from many expressions in different parts of his writings,
and particularly from the following passages in his Xlth
Sermon. ' It may be allowed, without any prejudice to the
cause of virtue and religion, that our ideas of happiness and
misery are, of all our ideas, the nearest and most important
to us ; that they will, nay, if you please, that they ought
to prevail over those of order, and beauty, and harmony, and
proportion, if there should ever be, as it is impossible there
ever should be, any inconsistence between them. 1 And
* See note E, at the end of tbu Prefec*.
PREFACE
again, ' Though virtue or moral rectitude does indeed, con-
gist in affection to and pursuit of what is right ami good, as
such ; yet, when we sit down in a cool hour, we can neither
justify to ourselves this or any other pursuit, till we are con-
vinced that it will be for our happiness, or at least not con-
trary to it.'*
Besides the general system of morality opened above, our
Author, in his volume of Sermons, has stated with accuracy
the difference between self love and benevolence ; in oppo-
sition to those who, on the one hand, make the whole of
virtue to consist in benevolence."!" and to those who, on the
other, assert that every particular affection and action is re-
solvable into self-love. In combating these opinions, he has
shown, I think, unanswerably, that there are the same kind
of indications in human nature, that we were made to pro-
mote the happiness of others, as that we were made to pro-
mote our own ; that it is no just objection to this, that we
have dispositions to do evil to others as well as good ; for we
have also dispositions to do evil as well as good to ourselves,
to our own most important interests even in this life, for the
sake of gratifying a present passion ; that the thing to be
lamented is, not that men have too great a regard to their
own real good, but that they have not enough ; that bene-
volence is not more at variance with, or unfriendly to, self-
love, than any other particular affection is ; and that by con-
sulting the happiness of others a man is so far from lessen-
ing his own, that the very endeavour to do so though he
should fail in the accomplishment, is a source of the high-
est satisfaction and peace of mind.J He has also, in pas-
sing, animadverted on the philosopher of Malmsbury, who,
in his book ' Of Human Nature,' has advanced, as discove-
ries in moral science, that benevolence is only the love of
power, and compassion the fear of future calamity to our-
selves. And this our Author has done, not so much with
the design of exposing the false reasoning of Mr Hobbes,
but because on so perverse an account of human nature he
has raised a system, subversive of all justice and honesty.
II. The religious system of Bishop Butler is chiefly to
be collected from the treatise, entitled, ' The Analogy of
* Serm. xi.
t See the 2d Dissertation ' On the Nature of Virtue.'
* See Serm. i. and xi. and the Preface to the Volume of Sermon*.
f See the notes to Serin, i. and v.
BY THE EDITOR. Ixxxiii
Religion, Natural and Revealed, to the Constitution and
Course of nature.'
' All things are double one against another, and God hath
made nothing imperfect.'* On ihis single observiuon of
the Son of Sirach, the whole fabric of our prelate's defence
of religion, in his Analogy, is raised. Instead of indulging
in idle speculations, how the world might possibly have
been better than it is ; or, forgetful of the difference betwein
hypothesis and fact, attempting to explain the divine econo-
my with respect to intelligent creatures, from preconceived
notions of his own ; he first inquires what the constitution
of nature, as made known to us in the way of experiment,
actually id ; and from this, now seen and acknowledged, he
endeavours to form a judgment of that larger constitution,
which religion discovers to us. If the dispensation of Pro-
vidence we are now under, considered as inhabitants of this
world, and having a temporal interest to secure in it, be
found, on examination, to be analogous to, and of a piece
wi?h that further dispensation, which relates to us as design-
ed for another, world, in which we have an eternal interest,
depending on our behaviour here ; if both may be traced up
to the same general laws, and appear to be carried on ac-
cording to the same plan of administration ; the fair pre-
sumption is, tiiat both proceed from one and the same Au-
thor. And if the principal parts objected to in this latter
dispensation be similar to, and of the same kind wiih what
we certainly experience under the former ; the. objections,
being clearly inconclusive in one case, because contradicted
by plain fact, must, in all reason, be allowed to be inconclu-
sive also in the other.
This way of arguing from what is acknowledged to what
is disputed, from things known to other things that resemble
them, from that part of the divine establishment which is
exposed to our view to that more important one which lies
beyond it, is on all hancs confessed to be jiist. By this me-
ihod Sir Isaac Newton has unlolded the system of nature ;
by the same method Bishop Butler has explained the sys-
tem of grace ; and thus, to use the words of a writer, whom
I quo:e wiih pleasure, ' has formed and concluded a happy
;illi;ince between faiih and philosophy. 'f
And although the argument from analogy be allowed to
be imperfect, and by no means sufficient to solve all dilficul-
* Eccles. xliL 24
t Mr Mainwaring'a Dissertation, prefixed to his Volume of Sermoua,
^:v PREFACE
tie? respecting 1 the government of God, and the designs of
his providence with regard to mankind ; (a degree of knowl-
e-lgv, which we are not furnished with faculties for attain-
ing, HI least in the present state ;) yet surely it is of impor-
tance to learn from it, that the natural and moral world afe
iu hmtely connected, and parts of one stupendous whole, or
sjote.n ; and that the chief objections which are brought
against religion, may be urged with equal force against the
constitution and course of nature, where they are certainly
ftlse in fact. And this information we may derive from the
work before us ; the proper design of which, it may be of
use t.o observe, is not to prove the truth of religion, either
natural or revealed, but to confirm that proof, already known,
by considerations from analogy.
After this account of the method of reasoning employed
by our Author, let us now advert to his manner of applying
it, first, to the subject of Natural Religion, and, secondly, to
that, of Revealed.
1. The foundation of all our hopes and fears is a future
life ; and with this the treatise begins. Neither the reason
of tha thing, nor the analogy of nature, according to Bishop
Butler, give ground for imagining, that the unknown event,
death, will be our destruction. The states in which we have
formerly existed, in the womb and in infancy, are not more
different from each other than from that of mature age in
which we now exist ; therefore, that we shall continue to
exist hereafter, in a state as different from the present as the
present is from those through which we have passed alrea-
dy, is a presumption favored by the analogy of nature. All
that we know from reason concerning death, is the effects it
has upon animal bodies ; and the frequent instances among
men. of the intellectual powers continuing in high health
and vigour, at the very time when a mortal disease is on the
point of putting an end to all ihe powers ofsensalion, induce
us lo hope that it may have no effect atall on the human soul,
not even so much as to suspend the exercise of its faculties ;
though if it have, the suspension of a power by no means im-
plies its extinction, as sleep or a swoon may convince us.*
The probability of a future state once granted, an impor-
tant question arises, How best to secure our interest in that
state 1 We find from what passes daily before us, that the
constiiution of nature admits of misery as well as happiness \
* Part i. chap. 1.
BY THE EbiroR. Ixxxv
[hul both of these are the consequences of our d\vn actions,
and these consequences we are enabled to foresee. 'I here-
fore, thru our happiness or misery in a future world may de-
pend on our own actions also, and that rewards Or punish-
ments hereafter may follow our good or ill behaviour here, is
but an appointment of the same sort with what we expe-
rience under the divine government, according to the regular
course of nature.*
This supposition is confirmed from another circumstance,
that the natural government of God, under which we now
live, is also moral ; in which rewards and punishments are
the consequences of actions, considered as virtuous and
vicious. Not that every man is rewarded or punished here
in exact proportion to his desert ; for the essential tendencies
of virtue and vice, to produce happiness and the contra' y,
are often hindered from taking- effect from accidental cau?es.
However, there are plainly the rudiments and beginnings of
a righteous administration to be discerned in the co stitution
of nature ; from whence we are led to expect, that these ac-
cidental hindrances will one day be removed, and the rule of
distributive justice obtain completely in a more perfect state t
The moral government of God, thus established, implies in
the notion of it some sort of trial, or a moral possibility of act-
ing wrong as well as right in those who are the subjects ot
it. And the doctrine of religion, that the present life is in
fact a state of probation for a future one, is rendered credible
from its being analogous throughout to the general conduct
of Providence towards us with respect to this world ; in
which prudence is necessary to secure our temporal interest,
ju.--t as we are taught that virtue is necessary to secure oui
eternal interest ; and both are trusted to ourselves J
But the present life is not merely a state of probation, im
plying in it difficulties and danger, it is also a state of disci
pline and improvement : and that, both in our tempond and
religious capacity. Thus, childhood is a state of discipline
for youth ; youth for manhood ; and that for old age. Strength
of body, and maturity of understanding, are acquired by de-
grees : and neither of them without continual exercise and
attention on our part, not only in the beginning of life, but
through the whole course of it. So, again, with respect to
our religious concerns, the present world is fitted to ne, .-!
* Chap. 2 I Chap. 3. J Part i. chap. 4.
PREFACE
to good men is an event, a state of discipline and improve-
ment for a future one. The several passions and propensions
implanted in our hearts, incline us, in a multitude of instan-
ces, to forbidden pleasures ; this inward infirmity is increa-
sed by various snares and temptations, perpetually occurring
from without : hence arises the necessity of recollection and
self-government, of withstanding the calls of appetite, and
forming our minds to habits of piety and virtue ; habits of
which we are capable, and which, to creatures in a state of
moral imperfection, and fallen from their original integrity
must be of the greatest use, as an additional security, over
ind above the principle of conscience, from the dangers to
which we are exposed.*
Nor is the credibility here given, by the analogy of nature,
to the general doctrine of religion, destroyed or weakened by
any notions concerning necessity. Of itself it is a mere
word, the sign of an abstract idea ; and as much requires an
agent, that is, a necessary agent, in order to effect any thing,
as freedom requires a free agent. Admitting it to be specu-
latively true, if considered as influencing practice, it is the
same as false : for it is matter of experience, that, \viih re-
gard to our present interest, and as inhabitants of this world,
we are treated as if we were free ; and therefore the analo
gy of nature leads us to conclude, that, with regard to oui
future interest, and as designed for another world, we shali
be treated as free also. Nor does the opinion of necessity-
supposing it possible, at all affect either the general proof of
religion, or its external evidence.f
Still objections may be made against the wisdom and good
ness of the divine government, to which analogy, which can
only show the truth or credibility of facts, affords no answer;
Yet even here analogy is of use, if it suggest that the di-
vine government is a scheme or sj'stem and not a number
of unconnected acts, and that this system is also above oui
comprehension. Now, the government of the natural world
appears to be a system of this kind ; with parts, related to
each other, and together composing a whole : in which sys
tern, ends are brought about by the use of means, many of
which means, before experience, would have been suspected
to have had a quite contrary tendency ; which is carried 01.
by general laws, similar causes uniformly producing similar
effects ; the utility of which general laws, and the incon/e
* Chap. 5. t Port L Cbap. &
BY THE EDITOR. JXXXVU
niences which would probably arise from the occasional or
even secret suspension of them, we are in some sort enabled
to discern ;* but of the whole we are incompetent judges,
because of the small part which comes within our view.
Reasoning then from what we know, it is highly credible,
that the government of the moral world is a system also car-
ried on by general laws, and in which ends are accomplish-
ed by the intervention of means ; and that both constitu
tions, the natural and the moral, are so connected, as to form
together but one scheme. But of this scheme, as that of
the natural world taken alone, we are not qualified to judge
on account of the mutual respect of the several parts to each
other and to the whole, and our own incapacity to survey
the whole, or, with accuracy, any single part. All objec-
tions, therefore, to the wisdom and goodness of the divine
government may be founded merely on our ignorance ;| and
to such objections our ignorance is the proper, and a satis-
factory answer. J
2. The chief difficulties concerning Natural Religion be-
ing now removed, our Author proceeds, in the next place, to
that which is revealed ; and as an introduction to an inquiry
into the Credibility of Christianity, begins with the conside-
ration of its Importance.
The importance of Christianity appears in two respects.
First, In its being a republication of natural Religion, in its
native simplicity, with authority, and with circumstances of
advantage ; ascertaining in many instances of moment,
what before was only probable, and particularly confirming
the doctrine of a future state of rewards and punishments.
Secondly, As revealing a new dispensation of Providence,
originating from the pure love and mercy of God, and con-
ducted by the mediation of his Son, and the guidance of
his Spirit, for the recovery and salvation of mankind, re-
presented in a state of apostacy and ruin. This account of
Chris'ianity being admitted to bf just, and the distinct offi-
ces of these three divine persons being once discovered to
us, we are as much obliged, in point of duty, to acknowledge
the relations we stand in to the Son and Holy Ghost, as our
Mediator and Sanctifier, as we are obliged in point of duty
* See a Treatise on Divine Benevolence, by Dr Thoinas Balguy,
Part it.
T See Note F, at the end of thia Preface.
* Part i. Chap. 7.
f See note G, at the end of thia Preface
Ixxxviii PREFACE
to acknowledge the relation we stand in to God the Fa-
ther ; although the two former of these relations be learnt
from revelation only, and in the last we are instructed by the
light of nature ; the obligation in either case, arising from
the offices themselves, and not at all depending on the man-
ner in which they are made known to us.*
The presumptions against revelation in general are, that
it is not discoverable by reason, that it is unlike to what is
so discovered, and that it was introduced and supported by
miracles. But in a scheme so large as that of the universe,
unbounded in extent and everlasting in duration, there must
of necessity be numberless circumstances which are bej'ond
the reach of our faculties to discern, and which can only be
known by divine illumination. And both in the natural and
moral government of the world", under which we live, we
find many things unlike one to another, and therefore ought
not to wonder if the same unlikeness obtain between things
visible and invisible ; although it be far from true, that re-
vealed religion is entirely unlike the constitution of nature,
as analogy may teach us. Nor is there any thing incredible
in revelation, considered as miraculous ; whether miracles be
supposed to have been performed at the beginning of the
world, or after a course of nature has been established. Not
at the beginning of the world ; for then there was either no
course of nature at all, or a power must have been exerted
totally different from what that course is at present. All
men and animals cannot have been born, as they are now ;
but a pair of each sort must have been produced at first, in
a way altogether unlike to that in which they have been
since produced ; unless we affirm, that men and animals
have existed from eternity in an endless succession. One
miracle, therefore, at least, there must have been at the be-
ginning of the world, or at the time of man's creation. Not
after the settlement of a course of nature, on account of mira-
cies being contrary to that course, or, in other words, contra-
ry to experience ; for, in order to know whether miracles,
worked in attestation of a divine religion, be contrary to ex-
perience or not, we ought to be acquainted with other cases,
similar or parallel to those in which miracles are alleged to
have been wrought. But where shall we find such similar
or parallel cases 1 The world which we inhabit affords
none. We know of no extraordinary revel'itions front God
* Part n. Chapter 5
BY THE EDITOR.
to man, but those recorded in th'e Old and New Testament ;
all of which were established by miqicles. It cannot there-
fore be said, that miracles are incredible, because contrary to
experience, when all the experience we hjave is in favor of
miracles, and on the side of religion.* Bfesjdes, in reason-
ing concerning miracles, they ought not to be compared with
common natural events, but with uncommon appearances,
such as comets, magnetism, electricity ; which, to one ac-
quainted only with the usual phenomena of nature, and the
common powers of matter, must before proof of their actual
existence, be thought incredible. f ^
The presumptions against Revelation in general being
despatched, objections against the Christian Revelation in
particular, against the scheme of it, as distinguished from
objections against its evidence, are considered next. Now,
supposing a revelation to be really given, it is highly proba-
ble beforehand, that, it must contain many things appearing
to us liable to objections. The acknowledged dispensation
of nature is very different from what we should have expect-
ed : reasoning then from analogy, the revealed dispensation,
it is cre^ble, would be also different. Isor are we in any
sort judges at what time, or in what degree, or manner it is
fit or expedient for God to instruct us, in things confessedly .
of the greatest use, either by natural reason, or by superna-
tural information. Thus, arguing ou speculation only, and
without experience, it would seem very unlikely that so im-
portant a remedy as that provided by Christianity, for the re-
covery of mankind from a state of ruin, should have been
for so many ages withheld ; and, when at last vouchsafed,
should be imparted to so few ; and, after it has been impart-
ed, should be attended with obscurity and doubt. And just
so we might have argued, before experience, concerning the
remedies provided in nature for bodily diseases, to which
by nature we are exposed : for many of these were unknown
x> mankind for a number of ages ; are known but to few
now : some important ones probably not discovered yet ; and
those which are, neither certain in their application, nor uni-
versal in their vise. And the same mode of reasoning that
would lead us to expect they should have been so, would
/ead us to expect that the necessity of them should have
fteen superseded, by there being no diseases ; as the neces-
sity of the Christian scheme, it may be thought, might also
* See note H, at the end of this Preface. T Chap. 2.
XC PREFACE
have been superseded, by preventing the fall of man, so thai
he should not have stood in need of a Redeemer at all.*
As to the objections against the wisdom and goodness of
Christianity, the same answer maybe applied to them as
was to the like objections against the constitution of nature.
For here also, Christianity is a scheme or economy, compo
scd of various parts, forminga whole, in which scheme mean
are used for the accomplishing of ends ; and which is con
ducted by general laws, of all of which we know as little
as we do of the constitution of nature. And the seeming
want of wisdom or goodness in this system is to be ascribed
to the same cause, as the like appearances of defects in the
natural system ; our inability to discern the whole scheme,
and our ignorance of the relation of those parts which aro
discernible to others beyond oar view. ^,
The objections against Christianity, as a matter of fact,
and against the wisdom and goodness of it, having been ob-
viated together, the chief of them are now to be considered
distinctly. One of these, which is levelled against the en-
tire system itself, is of this sort: The restoration of mankind,
represented in Scripture as the great design of the gospel, is
described as requiring a long series of means, and persons,
and dispensations, before it can be brought to its completion ;
whereas the whole ought to have been effected at once. '
Now every thing we see in the course of nature, shows the
folly of this objection. For in the natural course of Provi-
dence, ends are brought about by means, not operating im-
mediately and at once, but deliberately and in a way of pro-
gression ; one thing being subservient to another, this to
somewhat further. The change of seasons, the ripening of
fruits, the growth of vegetable and animal bodies, are in-
stances of this. And therefore, that the same progres-
sive method should be followed in the dispensation of Chris-
tianity, as is observed in the common dispensation of Provi-
dence, is a reasonable expectation justified by the analogy
of pature."f ,
Another circumstance, objected to in the Christian scheme,
is the appointment of a Mediator, and the saving of the
world through him. But the visible government of God be- '
ing actually administered in this way, or by the mediation
and instrumentality of others, there can be no general pre-
sumption against an appointment of this kind, against this
^ -4
* Chap, 3. T Chap. 4
BY THE EDITOR. XC1
invisible government being exercised in the same manner.
We have seen already, that with regard to ourselves this
visible government is carried on by rewards and punish-
ments ; for happiness and misery are the consequences of
our own actions, considered as virtuous and vicious ; and
these consequences we are enabled to foresee. It might have
been imagined, before consulting experience, that after we
had rendered ourselves liable to misery by our own ill con-
duct, sorrow for what was past, and behaving well for the
future, would, alone, and of themselves, have exempted us
from deserved punishment, and restored us to the divine fa>
vor. But the fact is oiherwise; and real reformation is of-
ten found to be of no avail, so as to secure the criminal from
poverty, sickness, infamy, and death, the never failing at-
tendants on vice and extravagance, exceeding a certain de-
gree. By the course of nature then it appears, God does
not always pardon a sinner on his repentance. Yet there is
provision made, even in nature, that the miseries which men
bring on themselves, by unlawful indulgences, may in many
cases be mitigated, and in some removed ; parti}' by extra-
ordinary exertions of the offender himself, but more espe-
cially and frequently by the intervention of others, who vo-
luntarily, and from motives of compassion, submit to labor
and sorrow, stich as produce long and lasting inconveniences
to themselves, as the means of rescuing another from the
wretched effects of former imprudences. Vicarious punish-
ment, therefore, or one person's sufferings contributing to
the relief of another, is a providential disposition in the econo-
my of nature.* And it ought not to be matter of surprise,
if by a method analogous to this we be redeemed from sin
and misery, in the economy of grace. That mankind at
present. are in a state of degradation, different from that in
which they were originally created, is the very ground of
the Christian revelation, as contained in the Scriptures.
Whether we acquiesce in the account, that our being placed
in such a state is owing to the crime of our first parents, or
choose to ascribe it to any other cause, it makes no differ-
ence as to our condition : the vice and unhappiness of the
world are still there, notwithstanding all our suppositions ;
nor is it Christianity that hath put us into this state. We
learn aloo from the same Scriptures, what experience and
the use of expiatory sacrifices from the most early times
* See note I. at the end of this Preface.
>-
XC11 PREFACE
might have taught us, that repentance alone is not sufficient
to prevent the fatal consequences of past transgressions !
But that still there is room for mercy, and that repentance
shall be available, though not of itself, yet through the me-
diation of a divine person, the Messiah; who, from the stib-
limest principles of compassion, when we were dead in tres-
passes and sins,* suffered and died, the innocent for the guil-
ty, the just for the unjust, f that we might have redemption
through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins.^ In what
way the death of Christ was of tha,t efficacy it is said to
be, in procuring the reconciliation of sinners, the Scriptures
have not explained. It is enough that the doctrine is re-
vealed ; that it is not contrary to any truth which reason
and experience leach us ; and that it accords in perfect har-
mony with the usual method of the divine conduct in the
government of the world.
Again it hath been said, that if the Christian revelation
were true, it must have been universal, and could not have
been left upon doubtful evidence. But God, in his natural
providence, dispenses his gifts in great varietj 7 , not only
among creatures of the same species, but to the eame indi-
viduals also at different times. Had the Christian revela-
tion been universal at first, yet, from the diversity of n.en's
abilities, both of mind and body, their various n eans of im-
provement, and other external advanlaf.es, some persons
must soon have been in a situation, wiih respect to religious
knowledge, much superior to that of others, as much per-
haps as they are at present. And all men wuX-be tqwta-
biy dealt with at last ; and to whom little is given, of him
little will be required. Then, as to the evidence of religion
being left doubtful, difficulties of this sort, like difficulties in
practice, afford scope and opportunity for a virtuous exercise
of the understanding, and dispose the mind to acquiesce and
rest satisfied with any evidence that is real. In the daily
commerce of life, men are cbliged to act upon great uncer-
tainties, with regard to success in their temporal pursuits ;
and the case with regard to religion is parallel. However,
though religion be not intuitively true, the proofs of it which
we have are amply sufficient in reason to induce us to em-
brace it ; and dissatisfaction with those proofs may possibly
be men's own fault. ||
Isothmg remains but to attend to the positive evidence
* Eph. ii. 1. t 1 Pet. iiL 18. * Colon. L 14.
Chap. 5. II Chap. 6.
BY THE EDITOR. XC111
there is for the truth of Christianity. Now, besides its di-
rect and fundamental proofs, which are miracles ami prophe-
cios ; I here are many collateral circumstances, which May be
united into one view, and altogether may be considered as ma-
king up ope argument. In this way of treating the subject,
the revelation, whether real or otherwise, may be supposed
to be wholly historical : the general design of which appears
to be, to give an account of the condition of religion, and its
professors, with a concise narration of the political state of
things, as far as religion is affected by it, during a great
length of time, near six thousand years of which are already
past. More particularly, it comprehends an account of God's
entering into covenant with one nation, the Jews, that he
would be their God, and that they should be his people ; of
his often interposing in their affairs ; giving them the pro-
mise; and afterwards the possession, of a flourishing coun-
try; assuring them of the greatest national prosperity in
cti.se of their obedience, and threatening the severest nation-
al punishment in case they forsook him, and joined in the
idolatry of their pagan neighbors. It contains also a pre-
diction of a particular person to appear in the fulness of time,
in whom all the promises of God to the Jews were to be ful-
filled. And it relates, that, at the time expected, a per-
son did actually appear, assuming to be the Saviour fore
told ; that he worked various miracles among them, in con-
firmation of his divine authority ; and as was foretold also,
was rejected and put to death by the very people who 'had
long desired and waited for his coming: But that his reli-
gion, in spite of all opposition, was established in the world
by his disciples, invested with supernaturah powers for that
purpose ; of the fate and fortunes of which religion there is
a prophetical description, carried down to the end of time.
Le any one now, after reading the above history, and not
knowing whether the whole were not a fiction, be supposed
to ask, Whether all that is here related be true ? and instead
of a direct answer, let hirn be informed of the several ac-
knowledged facts, which arc found to correspond to it in real
life ; and then, let him compare the history and facts toge-
ther, and observe the astonishing coincidence of both : Such
a joint review must appear to him of very great weight, and
to amount to evidence somewhat more than human. And
unless the whole series, and every particular circumstance
XC1V PREFACE
contained in it, can be thought to have arisen from accident,
the truth of Christianity is proved.*
The view here given of the moral and religious systems
of Bishop Butler, it will immediately be perceived, is chit-fly
intended for younger students, especially for students in di-
vinity ; to whom it is hoped it may be of use, so as to en-
courage them to peruse, with proper diligehce, the original
works of the Author himself. For it may "be necessary to
observe, that neither of the volumes of this excellent pre-
late are addressed to those who read for amusement, or curio-
sity, or to get rid of time. All subjects are not to be com-
prehended with the same ease ; and morality arid religion,
when treated as sciences, each accompanied with difficulties
of its own, can neither of them be understood as they ought,
without a very peculiar attention. But morality and reli-
gion are not merely to be studied as sciences, or as being
speculatively true ; they are to be regarded in another and
higher light, as the rule of life and manners, as containing
authoritative directions by which to regulate our faith and
practice. And in this view, the infinite importance of them
considered, it can never be an indifferent matter whether
they be received or rejected. For both claim to be the voice
of God ; and whether they be so or not, cannot be know,
till their claims be impartially examined. If they indeed
come from him, we are bound to conform to them at our
peril : nor is it left to our choice, whether we will submit to
the obligations they impose upon us or not ; for submit to
them we must, in such a sense, as to incur the punishments
denounced by both against wilful disobedience to their in-
junctions.
* Chap. 7. To the Analogy are subjoined two Dissertations, both on
ginallv inserted in the body of the work. One on Personal Identity, in
which are contained some strictures on Mr Locke, who asserts thai con-
sciousness makes or constitutes personal identity ; whereas, as our author
observes, consciousness makes only personality, or is necessary to the idea of
a person, i. e a thinking, intelligent being, but presup|X)ses, and therefore
cannot constitute, personal identity; just as knowledge presupposes truth,
but does not constitute it. Consciousness of past actions does indeed show
us the identity of ourselves, or gives us a certain assurance that we are the
same j>ersons or living agents now, which we were. at the time to which our
remembrance can look back ; but still we should he the same persons as we
were, though this consciousness of what is past were wanting, though all
that had been done by us formerly were forgotten; unless it be true, that
no person has existed a single moment beyond what he can remember.
The other dissertation is On the Mature" of Viitue, which properly be
longs to the moral system of our Author already explained
THE following Epitaph, said to be written by Dr Nathan-
iel Forster, is inscribed on a flat marble stone, in the ca-
thedral church of Bristol, placed over the spot where the
remains of Bishop Butler are deposited ; and which, aa
it is now almost obliterated, it may be worth while here to
preserve.
H. S.
Reverendus admodum in Christo Pater
JOSEPH US BUTLER, LL. D.
Hujusce primo Dioecescos
Deinde Dunelmensis Episcopus.
dualis quantusq ; Vir erat
Sua libentissime agnovit a;t as :
Et sii quid Praesuli aut Scriptori ad famam valent
Mens altissirna,
Ingenii perspicacis et subacti Vis,
Animusq ; pius, simplex, candidus, liberally
Mortui baud facile evanescet mcmoria.
Obiit Bathonue 16 Kalend. Julii,
A. D. 1752.
Aiuios nutu GO.
NOTES TO THE PREFACE,
BY
THE EDITOR.
xvii. A.
L>t BUTLER, when Bishop of Bristol, put up a cross, a plain piece of
marble inlaid, in the chapel of his episcopal house. This, which was in-
tended by the blameless prelate merely as a sign or memorial, that true
Christians are to bear their cross, and not to be ashamed of following a
crucified Master, was considered as affording a presumption, that he was
secretly inclined to Popish forms and ceremonies, and had no great dis-
like to Popery itself. And, on account of the oflence it occasioned, both at
the time and since, it were to be wished, in prudence, it had not been done.
Page xx. B.
Many of the sentiments, in these two Discourses of Bishop Butler con-
cerning the sovereign good of man ; the impossibility of procuring it in the
present life ; the unsatisfactoriness of earthly enjoyment ; together with
the somewhat beyond and above them all, which once attained, there will
rest nothing further to be wished or hoped ; and which is then only to be
expected, when we shall have put oft this mortal body, and our union
with God shall be complete ; occur in Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, Book
L oec. xi.
Page xxii. C.
When the first edition of this Preface was published, I had in vain en-
deavoured to procure a sight of the papers, in which Bishop Butler was ac-
cused of having died a Papist, and Archbishop Seeker's replies to them;
though I well remember to have read both, when they first appeared in
the public prints. But a learned professor in the University of Oxford
has furnished me with the whole controversy in its original form a brief
history of which it may not be unacceptable to offer here to the curious
reader.
The attack was opened in the year 1767, in an anonymous pamphlet enti-
t ed, ' The Root of Protestant Errors Exajmined ;' in which the author ft*-
9
NOTES TO THE PREFACE,
sorted, that, ' by an anecdote lately given him," that ' some Prelate ' (who
at the bottom of the page is called B p of D in) ' is said to have died in
the communion of a Church, that makes much use of saints, saints' daya,
and all the trumpery of saint worship.' When this remarkable fact, now
first divulged, came to 1 generally known, it occasioned, as might be ex-
pected, no little alarm ; and intelligence of it was no sooner conveyed U
Archbishop Seeker, than, in a short letter, signed Misopseudes, and print-
ed in the ' St James's Chronicle of JVJay 9," he called upon the writer to
produce his authority for publishing ' so gross and scandalous a falsehood.'
To this challenge an immediate answer was returned by the author of the
pamphlet, who, now assuming the name of Pkilelcutiieros, informed Mi-
sopseudes, through the channel of the same paper, that ' such anecdote had
been given him ; and that he was yet of opinion that there was nothing
improbable in it, when it is considered that the same prelate put up the Po-
pisn insignia of the cross in his chapel, when at Bristol ; and in his last
Episcopal Charge, has squinted very much towards that superstition.'
Efere we find the accusation not only repeated, but supported by reasons,
such as they are. of which it seemed necessary that some notice should be
taken; nor did the Archbishop conceive it unbecoming his own dignity to
stand up on this occasion, as the vindicator of innocence against the calum-
niator of the helpless dead. Accordingly, in a second letter in the same
newspaper of May 33, and subscribed Misopseudes as before ; after reci-
ting from Bishop Butler's Sermon before the Lords, the very passage here
printed in the Preface, and observing, that ' there are in the same sermon,
declarations ag strong as can be made, against temporal punishment for here-
sy, schism, or even for idolatry ;' his Grace expresses himself thus: 'Now
he (Bishop Butler^ was universally esteemed, throughout his life, a man
of strict piety and honesty, as well as uncommon atomies. He gave all the
proofs, public and private, which his station led him to give, and they were
decisive and daily, of his continuing to the last a sincere member ol
the Church of England. Nor had ever any of his acquaintance, or most
intimate friends, nor have they to this day, the least doubt of it.' As to put-
ting up a cross in his chapel, the Archbishop frankly owns, that for him-
self he wishes he had not ; and thinks that in so doing the BUhop did
amiss. But then he asks. ' can that be opposed, as any proof of Popery,
to all the evidence on the other side, or even to the single evidence of the
above mentioned sermon ? Most of our churches have crosses upon them :
are they therefore Popish churches? The Lutherans have more than
crosses in theirs: are the Lutherans therefore Papists 1' And as to the
Charge, no Papist, his Grace remarks, would have spoken as Bishop But-
ler there does, of the observances peculiar to Roman Catholics, some of
which he expressly censures as wrong and superstitious, and others, aa
made subservient to the purposes of superstition, and, on these accounts,
Abolished at the Reformation. After the publication of this letter, Phile-
leutheros replied in a short defence of his own conduct, but without pro-
ducing any tiling new in confirmation of what he had advanced. And
here the controversy, so far as the two principles were concerned, scenra (o
have ended.
But the dispute was not suffered to die away quite so soon. For in the
to full proof of a strong attachment to the idolatrous communion of the
Chxircn of Rome, but, with the reader's leave, he would fain account for
the Bishop's ' tendency this way.' And this he attempted to do, ' from
the natural melancholy and gloominess of Dr Butler's disposition ; fror*
ois great fondnees for the lives of Roman saints, and their books of mysti
BV THE EDITOR. XC1X
piety ; from his draw ing the notions of teaching men religion, not from
the iSew Testa-Dent, but from philosophical and political OfjUtBHM ol his
own ; and above all, from his transition lioiii a strict dissenter ain.ng.-* the
presbyteriaus to a rigid chuichn-an. and his sudden ant unexpected elo\a-
tion to gieut wealllf and dignity iu the L hurch.' 'i he attack, thus renew-
ed, excited the Archbishop's attention a second time, and drew from him a
fresh answer, subscribed also Misvpseudes, in the 'St. Jau.es's Lhroi.icie
">f August 4.' In this letter, our excellent Aietropoluan, first of all ob-
liquely hinting at the uiilairness of sitting in judgement on the character
al a man who had been dead lit'tcen years ; and then rch.inding 1,1, corres-
pondent, tiiat 'full proof had been already published, that Lusl'.op J.r.tirr
abhorred i opery as a vile corruj lion ol C . hristiuiiily , and that it miuht I e
proved, il ncedfm, that he held thv pope to be the antichrist ;' (to whicl; de-
cisive testimonies of undoubted aversion from tin- Ron.ishC hurch, anolhei
is also added in the 1 ostscript, his taking, when promoted to the * ol
L'urhaui. tor his domestic chaplain, Lr -Nath. i-orster, who had publish-
ed, not four yeans before, a Sern.on, entitled, topvry Lt'structive of the Evi-
dence of L liristianity ;) proceeds to observe, ' 1 hat the natural mt lanciioly
of the Bishop's temper would rather have fixtd him amongst his hrst
friends, than prompted him to the change he n,a(je : That he read books
ol all sorts, as well as books of mystic piety, and knew iiow to pick the
good that was in trrem out of the bad : '1 hat his opinions we:e exposed
w ithout reserve in his Analogy and his Sermons ; arid if the doctrine of
cither lie Fopish or unscnptural, the learned world hath mistaken strauge-
lv in admiring both : That instead of being a strict dissenter, he never was
a communicant in any dissenting assembly , on the contrary, that he went
occasionally, irom his early years, to the established worship, and became a
r.insUnt conformist toil when he was barely of age, and entered liin.selt, in
4711, ot (_ riel College : 'I hat his elevation to great dignity in the L i.urch,
far irom being sudden and unexpected, was a gradual at;d natural nsr,
Juottghu \ariety of preteniients, and a jeriod of thirty -t\vo vears: 'i hat,
as bishop of I urhaiii, tie had very little aiiltioritv beyond his hietl.ren, ai>il,
io eccles4astic;il n.atters had none beyond them ; a larger i neon, c than n.*l
of them he had; but this he eiupl yed, not, as was insinuated, in augncnt-
ing the pomp of worship in his cathedral, where, indeed, it is no greater
than in otuers, Uit fortlie purposes of charity, and in llic repairing of !iis
houses.' Alter these ren.arks, the letter cteses with the following words:
' Upon the whole, fc-w accusations so entirely groundless, have lieen so [ er-
linaciously, I am unwilling to say uialicjously, airrieil <.n, as the { n-sr,t;
and surely il is high time tor the authors and aU-ttors ol it, in meie com-
mon prudence, to show gome regard, it not to the truth, at least toshan.e. 1
It only remains to be mentioned, that the above letter of ^ rd.bi -hop
Seeker, had such an ellect on a writer, who signed liin.stlf it) the ' fct.
Jan/cs's Chronicle of August v55,' A Dissenting Minister, that he declar-
ed it of his opinion, that 'the author of the pamphlet colled the Root of Prr-
testant Lrrors Lxamined, and his friends, were obliged in candor, injustice,
and in honour to retract their charge, unless they could establish R on
much better grounds, than had hitherto appeared ; and he expressed his
' hopes, that it would be understood that the dissenters in general had no
hand in the accusation, and that it had only been the act of two or three
mistaken men.' Another person also, ' a foreigner by birth,' as he says of
himself, who had been long an admirer of Bishop Butler, and had perused
with great attention all that had been written on both si..es in the prrsuit
controversy, confesses he had been 'wonderfully pleased with ol>serving,
with what candour and temper, as well as clearness and solidity, he
was vindicated from the aspersions laid against her.' All the adversaries
of our preiate, however, had not the virtue or sense to be thus convinced
C NOTES TO THE PREFACE,
Borne of whom still continued, under the signatures of Old Martin,
mcr. An Impartial J J rolcstinil, l j avlir,us, \Iisonothis,\.o rcjtfat their con-
futed falsehoods in the jiuhlic prints: as if the curso of calumniators hail
fallen tijKin them, and tTieir memory, by being long a traitor to truth, h;id
taken at last a severe revenge, and coni|iellod them to credit their own lie
The first of these gentlemen, Old Martin, who dates from Newcastle. .May
2!), from the rancour and malignity with which bis letter abounds, and from
the {articular virulence he discovers towards the characters of Bishop But-
ler and his defender, 1 conjecture to be noother than the very person who had
already figured in this dispute, so early as the year 1752; of whose workj
entitled, ' A Serious Inquiry into the Use and Imiwrtance of External Re-
ligion,' the reader will rind some account in the notes subjoined to the Bish-
op's Charge in the second volnnie.
Page xxiii.
The letters, with a sight of which I was indulged by the favor of OUT
present most worthy Metrojiolitan, are all. as 1 remember, wrapjied toge-
ther under one cover; on the back of which is written, in Archbishop
Seeker's own hand, the following words, or words to tins effect, ' Presump-
tive Arguments that Bishop Butler did not die a Papist.'
Page xxvii.
'Far be it from .me,' says the excellent Di T. BalgUy,* 'to dispute the
reality of a moral principle in the human heart. I , feel its existence: 1
clearly discern its use and importance. But in no respect is it mure impor-
tant, than as it suggests the idea of a moral gorcrnur. Let this id"a be
once efiaced, and the principle of conscience will soon be found weak and
inelli'ctual. Its influence on men's conduct has, imiced. be n tw muck un-
dervalued by some philosophical inquiries. But be that inTuence, while
it last, more or less, it is not a steady and permanent principle of action.
Unhappily we always have it in our powerto lay it asleep. Sigltcl alone
will suppress anil stifle it, ami bring it almost into a state of 8tu|jelacth>n.
Nor can an} thing, .ess than the terrors of religion, awaken our minds
from this dangerous and deadly sleep. It can never be a matter of indilier-
ence to a thinking man, whether he u> to I>e happy or miserable bevond the
grave.'
Page xxxiu.
'.-. ''' *
The ignorance of man is a favourite doctrine with Bish(>p Buffer.
I' occurs in the Second Tart of the Analogy ; it makes the subject of his
Fifteenth Sermon ; and we meet with it again in his Charge. Wheth-
er, sometimes, it be not carried to a kngth which is excessive, may admit
of doubt.
Page xxxiii.
Admirable to this purpose are the words of Dr T. BaFguy. in the (Mh ot
his Discourses already referred to, p. Ixii. 'The doctrine of a i-ife loromc,
oni* 1 persons will say, is a doctrine of natural religion; and am never,
therefore, be proj)erly alleged to show the importance of revelation. They
judge, perhaps, from the frame of the world, that the preses it system is im,
* Discourse u.
BY THE EDITOR. CI
perfect; they see designs in it, not yet completed; and I hey think they
have grounds foretprcting another state, in which these designs shall he
farther famed on, and brought to a conclusion, worthy of infinite wisdom.
1 ain not concerned to dispute the justness of this reasoning ; nor do 1 wish
to dispute it But how far will it reach 1 Will it lead us to the Christian
doctrine of a judgement to come 1 "VV ill it give us the prospect of an eter-
nity of happiness'? Nothing of all this. It shows us only, that death, is
not the end of our being ; that we are likely to pass hereafter into other sys-
tems, more favourable than the present to the great ends of God's prp\ U
dence, the rirtue and the happiness of his intelligent creatures. But into
what systems we are to be removed ; what new scenes are to be presented
to us, either of pleasure or pain ; what new parts we shall have to act, and
to what trials and temptations we may yet be exposed; on all these sub-
jects we know just nothing. That our happiness for ever depends on our
conduct here, is a most important proposition, which we learn only from
revelation.'
Page xxxv. H.
In the common affairs of life, common experience is sufficient to direct
us. But will common experience serve to guide our judgement concerning
tiiefall and redemption of mankind 1 from what we see every day, can we
explain the commencement, or foretell the dissolution of the world 1 To
judge of events like these, we should be conversant in the history of other
planets; should be distinctly informed of God'svarious dispensations toall the
different orders of rational beings. Instead, then, of grounding our religious
opinions on what tee call experience, let us apply to a more certain guide
let us hearken to the testimony of God himself. The credibility of human
testimony, and the conduct of human agents, are subjects perfectly within
the reach of our natural faculties; and we ought to desire no firmer founda-
tion for our belief of religion, than for the judgements we form in the com-
mon affairs of life ; where we see a little plain testimony easily outweighs
the most specious conjectures, and not seldom even strong probabilities.'
Dr. Balguy's 4th Charge. See also an excellent pamphlet, entitled, ' Re-
marks on Mr. Hume's Essay on the Natural History of Religion,' Sect
& ; and the 6th of Dr Powells Discourses.
Page xxrvii. I.
Dr Arthur Ashley Svkes, from whose writings some good may be col-
lected out of a multitude of things of a contrary tendency, in what he ia
pleased to call ' The Scripture doctrine of Redemption,'* opposes what is
here advanced by Bishop Butler; quoting his words but without mention-
ing his name. If what is said above be not thought a sufficient answer to
the objections of this author, the reader may do well to consult a Charge
1 On the Use and Abuse of Philosophy in the Study of Religion,' by the
late Dr Powell ; who seems to me to have had the observations of Dr Sykes
in his view, where he is confuting the reasonings of certain philosophizing
divines against the doctrine of the atonement Powell's Discourses, Charge
III. p. 342-348.
* See the observations on the texts cited in his first chapter, and also in
chapters the fifth and sixth.
ADVERTISEMENT
IF the reader should meet here with any thing which he
had not before attended to, it will not be in the observatioas
upon the constitution and course of nature, these being all
obvious ; but in the application of them : in which, though
there is nothing but what appears to me of some real weight,
and therefore, of great importance; yet he will observe
several things which will appear to him of very little, if he
can think things to be of little importance, which are of any
real weight at all, upon such a subject as religion. How-
ever, the proper force of the following treatise lies in the
whole general analogy considered together.
It is come, I know not how, to be taken for granted, by
many persons, that Christianity is not so much as a subject
of inquiry ; but that it is, now at length, discovered to be
fictitious. And accordingly they treat it, as if, in the pre-
sent age, this were an agreed point among all people of dis-
cernment. ; and nothing remained, but to set it up as a prin-
cipal subject of mirth and ridicule, as it were by way of re-
prisals, for its having so long interrupted the pleasures of the
world. Ou the contrary, thus much, at least, will be hero
found, not taken for granted, but proved, that any reasona-
ble man, who will thoroughly consider the matter, may be
as much assured, as he is of his own being, that it is not,
however, so clear a case, that there is nothing in it. There
ia, I think, strong evi.ience of its truth ; but it is certain
CIV ADVERTISEMENT.
no one can, upon principles of reason, be satisfied of the
contrary. And the practical consequence to be drawn
from this, is not attended to, by every one who is concerned
in it.
May, 1736.
INTRODUCTION.
PROBABLE evidence is essentially distinguished from de-
monstrative Vy this, that it admits of degrees, and of all
variety of them, from the highest moral certainty, to the ve-
ry lowest presumption. We cannot, indeed, say a thing is
probably true upon one very slight presumption for it ; be-
cause, as there may be probabilities on both sides of the
question, there may be some against it ; and though there
be not, yet a slight presumption does not beget that degree
of conviction, which it implied in saying a thing is probably
true. But that the slightest possible presumption is of the
nature of a probability, appears from hence, that such low
presumption, often repeated, will amount even to moral cer-
tainty. Thus, a man's having observed the ebb and flow of
the tide to-day, affords some sort of presumption, though the
lowest imaginable, that it may happen again to-morrow ;
but the observation of this event for so man} 7 days, and
months, and ages together, as it has been observed by
mankind, gives us a full assurance that it will.
That which chiefly constitutes probability, is expressed in
the word likely ; i. e. like some truth,* or true event ; lik<J it,
in itself, in its evidence, in some more or fewer of its circum-
stances. For when we determine a thing to be probably
true, suppose that an event has or will come to pass, 'i is
from the mind's remarking in it a likeness to some other events
* Veriseaiile.
- :? -i-tr*
106 INTRODUCTION.
which we have observed has come to pass. And this ob-
servation forms, in numberless daily instances, a presump-
tion, o; inion, or full conviction, that such event has or will
corm: to pass ; according as the observation is, that the like
event has sometimes, most commonly, or always, so far as
our observation reaches, come to pass at like distances of
time, or place, or upon like occasions. Hence arises the be-
lief, that a child, if it lives twenty years, will grow up to the
stature and strength of a man ; that food will contribute to
the .preservation of its life, and the want of it for such a
number of days be its certain destruction. So, likewise, the
rule and measure of our hopes and fears concerning the suc-
cess of our pursuits ; our expectations that others will act
so and so in such circumstances ; and our judgment that
such actions proceed from such principles ; all these rely
upon our having observed the like to what we hope, fear, ex-
pect, judge ; 1 say upon our having observed the like, either
with respect to others or ourselves. And thus, whereas the
prince,* who had always lived in a warm climate, naturally
concluded, in the way of analogy, that there was no such
thing as water's becoming hard, because he had always ob-
served it to be fluid and yielding ; we, on the contrary, from
analogy, conclude, that there is no presumption at all against
this ; that it is supposable there may be frost in England
any given day in January next ; probable, that there
will on some day of the month ; and that there is a moral
certainty, i. e. ground for an expectation, without any doubt
of it, in some part or other of the winter.
Probable evidence, in its very nature, affords but an im-
perfect kind of information, and is to be considered as. rela
tive only to beings of limited capacities. For nothing which
in the possible object of knowledge, whether past, present, or
future, can be probable to an infinite intelligence ? since it
cannot but be discerned absolutely as it is in itself certainly
true, or certainly false. But to us, probability is the very
guide of life.
From these things it follows, that in questions of difficul-
ty, or such as are thought so, where more satisfactory evi-
dence cannot be had, or is not seen, if the result of examina-
tion be, that there appears, upon the whole, any the lowest
presumption on one side, and none on the other, or a greater
presumption on one side, though in the lowest degree grea-
* The Story ia told by Mr Locke, in the chapter of Probability.
INTRODUCTION. ] O/
ter, tin's determines the question, even in matter? of specu-
lation ; and, in matters of practice, will lay us uu.ier an ab-
solute and formal obligation, in point of prudence and of in-
terest, to act upon that presumption, or low probability,
though it be so low as to leave the mind in a very great
doubt which is the truth. For surely a man i? as really
bo and in prudence to do what upon the whole appears, ac-
cording to the best of his judgment, to be for hi- happiness,
as what he certainly knows to be so. Nay, further, in ques-
tions of great consequence, a reasonable man will think it
concerns him to remark lower probabilities and presumptions
than these ; such as amount to no more than si.owing oiie
side of a question to be as supposable and credible as "the
other ; nay, such as but amount to much ICF? even than
this. For numberless instances might be mentioned res-
pecting the common pursuits of life, where a n an would be
thought, in a literal sense, distracted, who w-aild not act,
and with great application too, not only uj on an even
chance, but upon much less, and where the }iobability or
chance was greatly against his succeeding.*
It is not my design to inquire further into the nature, the
fo iinda i ion. and measure of probability ; or whence it pro-
ceed.-, ih;U .likentf.8 thoukl beget that presvrr.ption, opinion,
and full comiciion, which tne human mind is foimed to re-
ceive from it, and which it does necessarily produce in every
one ; or to guard against theenors to which reasoning from
analogy is liable. This belongs to the subject of logic, and
is a par', of this subject which has not yet been thoici ^hl}-
considered. Indeed I shall not lake upon n.e to say, how
fa: the extent, compass, and force, of analogical reasoning
oan be reduced to general heads and rules, and the \\ hole be
tormed into a system. But though so little in this way has
been attempted by those who have treated of oi;r intellectu-
al powers, and the exercise of them, this does not hinder
but that we may be, as we unquestionably are, assured, that
analogy is of weight, various degrees, towards deteimining
our judgment, and our practice. INor does it in any wise
cease to be of weight in those cases, because persons, either
given to dispute, or who require things to be stated with
greater exactness than our faculties appear to admit of in
practical matters, may find other cases, in which it is not
* See Chap. vi. Part 5.
*1G8 INTRODUCTION.
easy to say, whether it be, or be not, of any weight ; or in-
stances of seeming analogies, which are really of none. It
is enough to the present purpose to obseive, that this gene-
ral way of arguing is evidently natural, just and conclusive.
For there is no man can make a question but that the sun
will rise to-morrow, and be seen, where it is seen at all, in
he figure of a circle, and not in that of a square.
Hence, namely from analogical reasoning-, Origen* has
with singular sagacity observed, that, ' he who believes the
Scriptures to have proceeded from him who is the Author
of nature, may well expect to find the same sort of difficul-
ties in il. as are found in the constitution of nature.' And,
in a like way of reflection, it may be added, that he who de-
nies the Sc.ipture to have been from God, upon account of
these difficulties, may for the very same reason, deny the
world to have been formed by him. On the other hand, if
there be an analogs 7 , or likeness, between that system of
things and dispensation of Providence which revelation in-
forms us of, and that system of things and dispensation of
Providence which experience, together with reason, informs
us of, i. e. the known course of nature ; this is a presump-
tion, that they have both the same author and cause ; at
least so far as to answer objections against the former being
from God, drawn from any thing which is analogical or simi-
lar to what is in the latter, which is acknowledged to be
from him ; for an Author of nature is here supposed.
Forming our notions of the constitution and government
of the world upon reasoning, without foundation for the
principles which we assume, whether from the attributes of
God, or any thing else, is building a world upon hypothesis,
iike Des Cartes. Forming our notions upon reasoning from
principles which die certain, but applied to cases to which
we have no ground to apply them, (like those who explain
the structure of the human body, and the nature of diseases
and medicines, from mere mathematics, without sufficient
data) is an error much akin to the former : since what is as-
sumed, in order to make the reasoning applicable, is hypothe-
sis. But il must be allowed just, to join abstract reasoning
with the observation of facts, and argue from such facts as
are known, to others that are like them ; from that part of
the Divine government over intelligent creatures, which
* Xp>? ficv TOI yt TOV arral; -.rapaic^aiicvov TU Kritravrot rov Koafiov tivat -av-
raj rnj ypa^as rrtirttaQai, bri 'oaa irept rijf KTtcrctx airavra rots fijr*<ri TOV *p<
avriK Aoyoy, ravra KO.I nc.pt TUV ypa^w*. Philocal. p. 23. Ed, Cant.
INTRODUCTION. ]Q9
comes under our view, to that larger and more general go-
vernment over them which is beyond it ; and from what ia
present, to collect what is likely, credible, or not incredible,
will be hereafter.
This method, then, of concluding and determining, being
practical, and what, if we will act at all, we cannot but act
upon in the common pursuits of life ; being evidently con-
clusive, in various degrees, proportionable to the degree
and exactness of the whole analogy or likeness ; and hav-
ing so great authority for its introduction into the subject of
religion, even revealed religion, rny design is to apply it to
that subject in general, both natural and revealed; taking
for proved, that there is an intelligent Author of Na-
ture, and natural Governor of the world. For as there is no
presumption against this, prior to the proof of it, so it has
been often proved with accumulated evidence ; from this ar-
gument of analogy and final causes ; from abstract reason-
ings ; from the most ancient tradition and testimony ; and
from the general consent of mankind. Nor does it appear,
so far as I can find, to be denied by the generalitj' of those
who profess themselves dissatisfied with the evidence of
religion.
As there are some, who, instead of thus attending to what
is in fact the constitution of Nature, form their notions of
God's government upon hypothesis ; so there are oihers who
indulge themselves in vain arid idle speculations, how the
world might possibly have been framed otherwise than it is :
and upon. supposition that things might, in imagining that
they should, have been disposed and carried on afier a
better model, than what appears in the present disposition
and conduct of them. Suppose, now, a person of such a
turn of mind to go on with his reveries, till he had at length
fixed upon some particular plan of Nature, as appearing to
him the best, one shall scarce be thought guilty of detrac-
tion against human understanding, if one should stiy, even
beforehand, that the plan which this speculative peison
would fix upon, though he were the wisest of the sons of
men, probably would not be the very best, even accor-
ding to his own notion of best ; whether he thought
that to be so which afforded occasions and motives for in*
exercise of the greatest virtue, or which was productive of
the greatest happiness, or that these two were necessarily
connected, and rain up into one and the same plan. How-
ever it may not be amiss, once for all, to see what would be
10
INTRODUCTION.
the amount of these emendations and imaginary improve-
ments upon the system x . Nature, or how far they would
mislead us. And it seems there could be no stopping, till we
came to some such conclusions as these : That all crea-
tures should at first be made as perfect and as happy,
as they were capable of ever being; that nothing, to be
sure, of hazard or danger should be put upon them to
do ; some indolent persons would perhaps think, nothing at
all ; or certainly, that effectual care should be taken, that
they should, whether necessary or not, yet eventually arid
in fact, always do Avhat was right and most conducive to
happiness, which would be thought easy for infinite power
to effect, either by not giving them any principles which
would endanger their going wrong, or by laying the right
motive of action in every instance, before their minds con-
tinually, in so strong a manner, as would never fail of indu-
cing them to act conformably to it ; and that the whole
method of government by punishments should be rejected
as absurd ; as an awkward round-about method of carrying
things on ; nay, as contrary to a principal purpose, for w hich
it would be supposed creatures were made, namely, hap-
piness.
Now, without considering what is to be said in particu-
lar to the several parts of this train of folly und extrava-
gance, what has been above intimated is a full, direct, gene-
ral answer to it, namely, that we rnay see beforehand that
we have not faculties for this kind of speculation. For
though it be admitted, that, from the first principles of
our nature, we unavoidably judge or determine some ends
to be absolutely in themselves preferable to others, and
that the ends now mentioned, or if they run up into one,
that this one is absolutely the best, and consequently, that
we must conclude the ultimate ends designed in the con-
stitution of nature and conduct of Providence, is the most
virtue ard happiness possible ; yet we are far from being
able to judge what particular disposition of things would
be most friendly and assistant to virtue, or what means
might be absolutely necessary to produce the most happi-
ness m a system of such extent as our own world may be,
taking in all that is past and to come, though we F!,,I id
suppose it detached from the whole of things. Indeed, ivt
are so far from being able to judge of this, that we are not
judges what may be the necessary means of ruisu,*. anc!
conducting one person to the highest perfection and happines*
INTRODUCTION. Hi
of his nature. Nay, even in the little affairs of the present
life, \ve find men of different education and ranks are not
competent judges of the conduct of each other. Our whole
nature leads us to ascribe all moral perfection to God, and
to deny all imperfection in him. And this will forever be a
practical proof of his moral character, to such as will con-
sider what a practical proof is, because it is the voice of
God speaking in us. And from hence we conclude, that
virtue must be the happiness, and vice the misery, of every
creature ; and that regularity, and order, and right, cannot
but prevail, finally, in a universe under his government.
But we are in no sort judges what are the necessary means
of accomplishing this end.
Let us, then, instead of that idle and not very innocent
employment of forming imaginary models of a world, and
schemes of governing it, turn our thoughts to what we ex-
perience to be the conduct of Nature with respect to intelli-
gent creatures ; which may be resolved into general laws
or rules of administration, in the same way as many of the
laws of Nature, respecting inanimate matter, may be col-
lected from experiments. And let us compare the known
constitution and course of things wiih what is said to be the
moral system of Nature, the acknowledged dispensations of
Providence, or that government which we find ourselves
under, with what religion teaches us to believe and expect,
and see whether they are not analogous, and of a piece.
And upon such a comparison it will, I think, be found, that
they are very much so ; that both may be traced up 10 the
same general laws, and resolved into the same principles of
Divine conduct.
The analogy here proposed to be considered, is of pre'ty
large extent, and consists of several parts ; in some more,
in others less, exact. In some few instances, perhaps, it
may amount to a real practical proof, in others not so j yet
in these it is a confirmation of what is proved otherwise. It
will undeniably show, what too many want to have shown
them, that the system of religion, both natural and revealed,
considered only as a system, and prior to the proof of it, is
not a subject of ridicule, unless that of nature be so too.
Ami it will afford an answer to almost all objections against
the system both of natural and of revealed religion, though
not perhaps an answer in so great a degree, yet in a very
considerable degree an answer, to the objections against the
evidence of i ; for, objections against a proof, and objections
112 INTRODUCTION".
against what is said to be proved, the reader will observe,
are different things.
Now, the divine government cf the world, implied in the
notion of religion in general, and of Christianity, contains
in it, That mankind is appointed to live in a future state ;*
that 'here every one shall be rewarded or punished ;f re-
warded or punished respectively for all that behaviour here
which we comprehend under the words, virtuous or vicious,
morally good or evil : J that our present life is a probation,
a state of trial, and of discipline, j| for that future one;
notwithstanding the objections which men may fancy they
have, from notions of necessity, against there being any
such moral plan as this at all ; TT and whatever objections
may appear to lie against the wisdom and goodness of it, as
it stands so imperfectly made known to us at present : * *
that this world being in a state of apostacy and wickedness,
and consequently of ruin, and the sense both of their condi-
tion and duty being greatly corrupted amongst men, this
gave occasion for an additional dispensation of Providence,
of the utmost importance, | "f proved by miracles, J J but
containing in it many things appearing to us strange, and
not to have been expected ; a dispensation of Providence,
which is a scheme or system of things || jj carried on by tho
mediation of a Divine person, the Messiah, in order to the
recovery of the world : 1T1T yet not revealed to all men, nor
proved with the strongest possible evidence to all those to
whom it is revealed ; but only to such a part of mankind,
and with such particular evidence, as the wisdom of God
thought fit.*** The design, then, of the following Treatise
will be to show, that the several parts principally objected
against in his moral and Christian dispensation, including
its scheme, its publication, and the proof which God has af-
forded us of its Truth ; that the particular parts principally
objected against in thi? whole dispensation, are analogous to
what is experienced in the constitution and course of Nature,
or Providence ; that the chief objections themselves, which
are alleged against the former, are no other than what may
be alleged with like justness against the latter, where they
are found in fact to be inconclusive ; and that this argument,
from analogy, is in general unanswerable, and undoubtedly
*Ch. i. TCh.ii. *Ch.iii.
S Ch. iv. II Oh. v. IT Ch vi.
**Ch.vii f r Part II. ch. i. ttCh. iL
DHCh.iv. TTirCh.v. *
INTRODUCTION. 113
of weight on the side of religion,* notwithstanding the ob-
jections which may seem to lie against it, and the real
ground which there may be for difference of opinion as to
the particular degree of weight which is to be laid upon it.
This is a general account of what may be looked for in the
following Treatise. And I shall begin it with that which is
the foundation of all our hopes, and of all our fears all our
hopes and fears, which are of any consideration I mean,
a future life.
Ch.tfii
THE
ANALOGY
OP
RELIGION
TO THE
CONSTITUTION AND COURSE OF NATURE.
PART I.
OF NATURAL RELIGION.
CHAP. L
Of a Future Life.
STRANGE difficulties have been raised by some concern-
ing personal identity, or the sameness of living agents, im-
plied in the notion of our existing now and hereafter, or in
any two successive moments ; which whoever thinks it
worth while, may see considered in the first Dissertation at
the end of this Treatise. But, without regard to any of
them here, let us consider what the analogy of Nature, and
the several changes which we have undergone, and those
which we know we may undergo without being destroyed,
suggest, as to the effect which death may, or may not,
have upon us ; and whether it be not from thence probable,
that we may survive this change, and exist in a future state
of life and perception.
I. From our being born into the present world in the help-
less imperfect state of infancy, and having arrived from
thence to mature age, we find it to be a general law of nature
in our own species, that the same creatures, the same
116 ; OF A FUTURE LIFE. [PART I.
individuals, should exist in degrees of life and perception,
with capacities of action, of enjoyment, and suffering, in
one period of their being, greatly different from those ap-
pointed them in another period of it. And in other creatures
the same law holds. For the difference of their capacities
and states of life at their birth (to go no higher) and in ma-
turity ; the change of worms into flies, and the vast enlarge-
ment of their locomotive powers by such change ; and birds
and insects bursting the shell, their habitation, and by this
means entering into a new world, furnished with new ac-
commodations for them ; and finding a new sphere of action
assigned them ; these are instances of this general law of
nature. Thus, all the various and wonderful transforma-
tions of animals are to be taken into consideration here.
But the states of life in which we ourselves existed for-
merly, in the womb and in our infancy, are almost as differ-
ent from our present, in mature age, as it is possible to
conceive any two states or degrees of life can be. There-
fore, that we are to exist hereafter in a state as different
(suppose) from our present, as this is from our former, is but
according to the analogy of nature ; according to a natural
order or appointment, of the very same kind with what we
have already experienced.
II. We know we are endued with capacities of action, of
happiness, and misery ; for we are conscious of acting, of
enjoyina; pleasure, and suffering pain. Now, that we have
these powers and capacities before death, is a presumption
that we shall retain them through and after death ; indeed,
a probability of it abundantly sufficient to act upon, unless
there be some positive reason to think that death is the de
struction of those living powers ; because there is in every
case a probability, that all things will continue as we expe-
rience they are, in all respects, except those in which we
have some reason to think they will be altered. This is
that kind* of presumption, or probability, from analogy,
expressed in the very word continuance, which seems our
only natural reason for believing the course of the world will
continue to-morrow, as it has done so far as our experience
or knowledge of history can carry us back. Nay, it seems
our only reason for believing, that any one substance, now
* I say kind of presumption or probability ; for 1 do not mean to affirm,
that there is the same degree of conviction that our li ving powers will con-
tinue after death, as there is, that our substances will.
CHAP. I.] OF A FUTURE LIFE. 117
existing, will continue to exist a moment longer ; the self-
existent substance only excepted. Thus, if men were as-
sured that the unknown event, death, was not the destruc-
tion of our faculties of perception and of action, there would
be no apprehension that any other power or event, uncon*
nected with this of death, would destroy these faculties just
a. the instant of each creature's death ; and therefore no
doubt but that thev would remain after it : which shovs
the high probability that our living powers will continue
after death, unless there be some ground to think that death
is 'heir destruction.* For, if it would be in a manner certain
that we should survive death, provided it were certain that
death would not be our destruction, it must be highly proba-
ble we shall survive it, if there be no ground to think death
will be our destruction.
Now, though 1 think it must be acknowledged, that prior
to the natural and moral proofs of a future life commonly
insisted upon, there would arise a general confused suspi-
cion, that, in the great shock and alteration which we snail
undergo by death, we, i. e. our living powers, n.ight be
wholly destroyed ; yet even pnor to those proofs, there is
really no particular distinct ground, or reason, for this appie-
hen.-ion at all, so far as 1 can find. Jf there be, it must
ari^e eiilier from the reason of the thing, or fiorn the analogy
of Nature.
But we cannot argue from the reason of the thing, that
dealh is the destruction of living agents, because we know
not at all what death is in itself; but only some of its effects,
such as the dissolution of flesh, skin, and bones : and these
effects do in no wise appear to imply the destruction of a
living agent. And, besides, as we are greatly in ;he dark
upon what the exercise of cur living powers -lepend?, so we
are wholly ignorant what the powers themselves depend
upon; the powers themselves, as distinguished, not oi.ly
* Destruction of living pavers, is a manner of expression unavoidably
anibi^uous; and n;av signify either the destruction cf a living being, to
at that the same living being shall be incapable of ever perceiving cr
acting again at all; or the destruction of those means and instruments
by ifh.if.li it is capable of iif present life, vf its present state of perception
and J aUivn. It is hi re i d in the ibru.cr sense. "W nen it is used iii th
latter, the epithet prcfcnl is added. 1 he loss cf a man's eve is a destruction
ji'lmnt: |*> \ers in' the latter sense. But we have no reason to think the de-
struction ot' living |*>\vers, in the former sense, to be j>c.*sible. We ha\e ru
more reason to think a being, ernlurd with li-ing [lovstrs, ever loses then
during its whole existence, than to believe that a stone ever acquires them.
118 OF A FUTURE LIFE. [CHAP. I,
from their actual exercise, but also from the present capaci-
ty of exercising them ; and opposed to their destruction ;
for sleep, or, however, a swoon, shows us, not only ihttt
these powers exist when they are not exercised, as th<;
passive power of motion does in inanimate matter ; bul
shows also that they exist, when there is no present capa-
city of exercising them ; or that the capacities of exercising
them for the present, as well as the actual exercise of them,
may be suspended, and yet the powers themselves remain
undestroyed. Since, then, we know not at all upon what
the existence of our living powers depends, this shows fur-
ther, there can no probability be collected from the reason
of the ihing, that death will be their destruction : because
their existence may depend upon somewhat in no degree
affected by death ; upon somewhat quite out of the reach of
this king of terrors. So that there is nothing more certain,
than that the reason of the thing shows us no connexion
between death and the destruction of living agents. JNor
can we find any thing throughout the whole analogy of
JVatfMre, to afford us even the slightest presumption, that
animals ever lose their living powers ; much less, if it were
possible, that they lose them by death ; for we have no
faculties wherewith to trace any beyond er through it, so as
to see what becomes of them. This event removes them
from our view. It destroys the sensible proof, which we had
before their death, of their being possessed of living powers,
but does not a, pear to afford the least reason to believe,
that they are then, or by that .event, deprived of them.
And our knowing, that .fjijey were possessed of these
powers, up to the very period to which we have faculties
capa'ule of tracing them, is itself a probability of their retain-
ing them beyond it. And this is confirmed, and a sensible
credibility is given to it, by observing the very great and
astonishing changes which we have experienced ; so great,
that our existence in another state of life, of perception and
of action, will be but according to a method of providential
conduct, the like to which has been already exercised, even
with regard to ourselves ; according to a course of nature,
the like to which we have already gone through.
However, as one cannot, but be greatly sensible, how
difficult it is to silence imagination enough to make the
voice of reason even distinctly heard in this case ; as we are
accustomed, from our youth up, to indulge that forward
delusive faculty, ever obtruding beyond its sphere ; of some
PART I.] OF A FUTURE LIFE. 119
assistance, indeed, to apprehension, but the author of all
error : as we plainly lose ourselves in gross and crude con-
ceptions of things, taking for granted that we are acquaint-
ed with what indeed we are wholly ignorant of; it may be
proper to consider the imaginary presumptions, that .leath
will be our destruction, arising from these kinds of early and
lasting prejudices ; and to show how little they can really
amount to, even though we cannot wholly divest ourselves
of them. And
I. All presumption of death's being the destruction of liv-
ing beings, must go upon supposition that they are com-
pounded, and so discerptible. But, since consciousness is a
single and individual power, it should seem that the subject
in which it resides, must be so too. For, were the motion
of anj r particle of matter absolutely one and indivisible, so as
that it should imply a contradiction to suppose part of this
motion to exist, and part not to exist i. e. part of this matter
to move, and part to be at rest ; then its power of motion
would be indivisible ; and so also would the subject in which
the power inheres, namely, the particle of matter : for, if
this could be divided into two, one part might be moved and
the other at rest, which is contrary to the supposition. In
Kke manner, it has been argued, * and, for any thing ap-
pearing to the contrary, justly, that since the perception, or
consciousness, which we have of our own existence is indi-
visible, so as that it is a contradiction to suppose one part of
it should be here and the other there ; the perceptive power,
or the power of consciousness, is indivisible too ; and, conse-
quently, the subject in which it resides, t. e. the conscious
being. Now, upon supposition that Jiving agent each man
calls himself, is thus a single being, which there is at least
no more difficulty in conceiving than in conceiving it to be a
compound, and of which there is the proof now mentioned ;
it follows, that our organized bodies are no more ourselves,
or part of ourselves, than any other matter around us. And
it is as easy to conceive how matter, which is no part of
ourselves, may be appropriated to us in the manner wh : ch
our present bodies are, as how we can receive impressions
from, and have power over any matter. It is as easy to
conceive, that we may exist out of bodies, as in them ; that
wo might have animated bodies of any other organs and
senses wholly different from these now given us, and tnat
* See Dr Clarke's Letter to Mr Dodwcll, and the Defences of it
120 Of A. FUTURE LIFE. ^CHAP. I.
we may nereafter animate these same or new bodies vari-
ously modified and organized, as to conceive how we can
animate such bodies as our present. And, lastly, the disso-
lution of all these several organized bodies, supposing our-
selves to have successively animated them, would have no
more conceivable tendency to destroy the living beings, our-
selves, or deprive us of living faculties, the faculties of per-
ception and of action, than the dissolution of any foreign
matter, which we are capable of receiving impressions from,
and making use of for the common occasions of life.
II. The simplicity and absolute oneness of a living agent
cannot, indeed, from the nature of the thing, be properly
proved by experimental observations. But as these fall
in with the supposition of its unit} 7 , so they plainly lead us
to conclude certainly, that our gross organized bodies, with
which we perceive the objects of sense, and with which we
act, are no part of ourselves, and therefore show us, that
we have no reason to believe their destruction to be ours ;
even without determining whether our living substances be
material or immaterial. For we see by experience, that
men may lose their limbs, their organs of sense, and even
the greatest part of these bodies, and yet remain the same
living agents : And persons can trace up the existence of
themselves to a time when the bulk of tlieir bodies was ex-
tremely small, in comparison of what it is in mature age ;
and we cannot but think, that they might then have lost a
considerable part of that small body, and yet have remained
the same living agents, as they may now lose great part of
their present body, and remain so. And it is certain, that
the bodies of all animals are in a constant flux, from that
never ceasing attrition which there is in every part of them.
Now, things of this kind unavoidably teach us to distinguish
between these living agents, ourselves, and large quantities
of matter, in which we are very nearly interested : since
these may be alienated, and actually are in a daily course
of succession, and changing their owners ; whilst we are
assured, that each living agent remains one and the same
permanent being.* And this general observation leads us
on to the following ones.
First, That we have no way of determining by expe-
rience, what is the certain bulk of the living being each
man calls himself ; and yet, till it be determined that it is
* See Dissertation I.
CHAP. Lj OF A FUTURE LIFE. J21
larger in bulk than the solid elementary particles of matter,
whfch there is no ground to think any natural power can
dissolve, there is no sort of reason to think death to be the
dissolution of it, of the living being, even though it should
not be absolutely indiscerptible.
Secondly, From our being so nearly related to, and inter-
ested in certain systems of matter, suppose our flesh and
bones, afterwards ceasing to be at all related to them, the
living agents, ourselves, remaining all this while undestioy-
ed, notwithstanding such alienations : and consequently
these systems of matter not being ourselves ; it follows fur-
ther, that we have no ground to conclude any other, suppose
internal systems of matter, to be the living agents ourselves ;
because we can have no ground to conclude this, but from
our relation to, and interest in such other systems of matter :
and, therefore, we can have no reason to conclude, what
befalls those systems of matter at death, to be the destruction
of the living agents. We have already, several times over,
lost a great part, or perhaps the whole of our body, accord-
ing to certain common established laws of nature ; yet we
remain the same living agents : when we shall lose as great
a part, or the whole, by another common established law of
nature, death, why may we not also remain the same ?
That the alienation has been gradual in one case, and in the
other will be more at once, does not prove any thing to the
contrary. We have passed undestroyed through those
many and great revolutions of matter, so peculiarly appro-
priated to ourselves ; why should we imagine death would
be so fatal to us 1 Nor can it be objected, that what is thus
alienated, or lost, is no part of our original solid body, but
only adventitious matter ; because we may lose entire limbs,
which must have contained many solid parts and vessels of
the original body : or if this be not admitted, we have no
proof that any of these solid parts are dissolved or alienated
by death ; though, by the way, we are very nearly related
to that extraneous or adventitious matter, whilst it continues
uuted to and distending the several parts of our solid body
But, after all, the relation a person bears to those parts of
his body to which he is the most nearly related, what does
it appear to amount to but this, that the living agent and
those par'.s of the body mutually affect each other ? And
the same thing, the same thing in kind, though not in de-
gree, may be said of all foreign matter, which gives us
ideas, and which we have any power over. From these
j[g2 OF A FUTCKK LIFE. [PART i
observxUons f.he whole ground of the imagination is remov-
ed, tk.tt the dissolution of any 'matter is the destruction of
a Iivi.ig agent, from the interest he once had in such matter.
Tiiirdly, If we consider our body somewhat more distinct-
ly, as made up of organs and instruments of perception and
of motion, it will bring us to the same conclusion. Thus,
the common optical experiments show, and even the obser-
vat .on how sight is assisted by glasses shows, that we see
wi",h our eyes in the same sense as we see with glasses.
Nor is there any reason to believe, that we see with them in
any other sense ; any other, I mean, which would lead us
to think the eye itself a percipient. The like is to be said
of hearing : and our feeling distant solid matter by means
of somewhat in our hand, seems an instance of the like kind,
as to the subject we are considering. All these are instances
of foreign matter, or such as is no part of our body, being
instrumental in preparing objects for, and conveying them to
the perceiving power, in a manner similar, or like to the
manner in which our organs of sense prepare and convey
them. Both are, in a like way, instruments of our receiv-
ing such ideas from external objects, as the Author of na-
ture appointed those external objects to be the occasions of
exciting in us. However, glasses are evidently instances
of this ; namely, of matter, which is no part of our body, pre-
paring objects for, and conveying them towards the perceiv-
ing power, in like manner as our bodily organs do. And if
we see with our eyes only in the same manner as we do with
glasses, the like may justly be concluded from analogy, of
all our other senses. It is not intended, by any thing here
said, to affirm, that the whole apparatus of vision, or of per-
ception by any other of our senses, can be traced, through
all its steps, quite up to the living power of seeing, or per-
ceiving ; but that, so far as it can be traced by experimental
observations, so far it appears, that our organs of sense pre-
pare and convey on objects, in order to their being perceived,
in like manner as foreign matter does, without affording any
sha low of appearance, that they themselves perceive. And
that we have no reason to think our organs of sense perci-
pients, is confirmed by instances of persons losing some of
tnem, the living beings themselves, their former occupiers,
remaining unimpaired. It is confirmed also by the experi-
ence of dreams ; by which we find we are at present pos-
sessed of a latent, and what would otherwise be an uuima-
gined unknown power of perceiving sensible objectSj in as
CUAP. I.] OF A FUTURE LIFE. 123
strong and lively a manner without our external organs of
sense, a.- with them.
So also \viih regard to our power, of moving, or directing
motion by will and choice : upon the destruction cf a limb,
this active power remains, as it evidently seems, unlessrned ;
so as lhat the living being, who has suffered this loss, v or, Id
be capable of moving as before, if it had another limb lo
mot e with. It can walk by the help of an artificial leg
just as it can make use of a pole' or a lever, to reach towards
itself and to move things beyond the length and the power
of its natural arm : and ihis last it does in the same rnam.er
as it reaches and moves, wiih its natural arm, things neaier
and of less weight. Nor is there so much as any appear-
ance of our lirnbs being endued with a power of moving 01
directing themselves ; though they are adapted, like ihe se-
veral parts of a machine, to be the instruments of motion to
each other ; and some parts of the same limb, to be instru-
ments of rnodon to the other parts of it.
Thus, a man determines tha; he will look at such an ob
joct through a microscope ; or, being lame suppose, lhat he
will walk to such a place with a staff a week hence. His
eyes and his feet no more determine in these cases, than the
microscope and the staff. Nor is there any ground to ihrnk
they anj 1 more put the determination in ihe piactice, or that
his eyes are the seers, or his feet the movers, in any other
.sense than as the microscope and the staff are. Upon ihe
whole, then, our org.ms of sense and our limbs are ceruuniy
msiruments, which the living persons, ourselves, make use
of to perceive and move with. There is not any probability,
the.t they are any more ; nor, consequently, thai we have
any other kind of relation to them, than what we may have
to any other foreign matter formed into instruments of per-
ception and motion, suppose into a microscope or a staff (I
say, any other kind of relation, for I am not speaking of ;ne
degree of it ; nor, consequently, is there any probaoili'y
that the alienation or dissolution of these instruments is the
destruction of the perceiving and moving agent.
And thus our finding, that the dissolution of matter in
which living beings were most nearly interested, is not then
dissolution ; and that the destruction of several of ihe or-
gans and instruments of perception and of i. otion belong-
ing to them, is not their destruction ; shows, demonstrative-
ly, thai there is no ground to think, that the dissolution
of any other matter or destruction of any other organ*
124 OF A F.'TUUE LIFE.
Ibk. *
and instruments, will be the dissolution or destruction
of living agents, from The like kind of relation. And \ve
have no reason to think we stand in any other kind of
relation to any thing which we find dissolved by death.
Bat it is said, these observations are equally applicable to
brutes ; and it is thought an insuperable difficulty, that
they should be immortal, and, by consequence, capable of
everlasting happiness. Now, this manner of expression is
t >th invidious and weak : but the thing intended by it, is
really no difficulty at all, either in the way of natural or *
moral consideration. For, 1st, Suppose the invidious thing,
designed in such a manner of expression, were really im-
plied, as it is not in the least, in the natural immortality of
brutes ; namely, that they must arrive at great attainments,
an 1 become rational and moral agents ; even this would be
KO difficulty, since we know not what latent powers and
japicifies they may be endued with. There was once, pri-
or to experience, as great presumption against human crea-
tures, as there is against the brute creatures, arriving at
that degree of understanding which we have in mature age ;
for we can trace up our own existance to the same original
with theirs. And we find it to be a general law of nature,
that creatures endued wi*h capacities of virtue and religion,
should bs placed in a condiiion of being, in which they are
altogeiher wiihout the use of them for a considerable length
of their duration, as in infancy and childhood. And great
part of the human species go out of the present world, be
fore they come 10 the exercise of these capacities in any de-
gree at all. Bat then, 2dly, The natural iminoftftliiy of
brutes does not in the least imply, that they arc endued wuh
any latent capacities of a rational or moral nature. And
the economy of the universe imgh r . require, that there should
be living creatures wiihoui any capacities of this kind.
And alldifficuliies, as to the manner how they are to be dis-
posed of, are so apparently and wholly founded on our igno
ranee, that it is wonderful they should be insisted upon by any,
but such as are weak enough to think they are acquainted
will, the whole system of things. There is, then, absolute-
ly nothing at all in this objection, which is so rhetorically
urged against the greatest part of the natural proofs 0' pre-
sumpiions of the immortality of human minds : I say the
greatest part ; for ' it. is less applicable to the following ob-
servation, which is more peculiar to mankind :
III. That as it is evident our present powers and capaci-
CHAP. Iv] OF A FUTURE LIFB. 125
ties of reason, memory, and affection, do not depend upon
our gross body, in the manner in which perception by our
organs of sense does ; so they do not appear to depend upon
it at all in any such manner, as to give ground to think, that
the dissolution of this body will be the destruction of these
our present powers of reflection, as it will of our powers of
sensation ; or to give ground to conclude, even that it will
bs so much as a suspension of the former.
Human creatures exist -at present in two states of life
and perception, greatly different from each other ; each of
which has its own peculiar laws, and its o vn peculiar en-
joyments and sufferings. When any of our senses are
atVected, or appetites gratified with the objects of them, we
may be said to exist, or live, in a state of sensation. When
none of our senses are affected, or appetites gratified, and
yet we parceive, and reason, and act, we may be said to ex-
ist, or live, in a state of reflection. Now i*. is by no means
certain, that any thing which is dissolved by death is any-
way necessary to the living being, in this its state of reflec-
tion, after ideas are gained. For though, from our present
constitution and condition of being, our external organs of
sense are necessary for conveying in ideas to our reflecting
powers, as carriages, and levers, and scaffolds are in archi-
tecture ; yet, when these ideas are brought in, we are capa-
ble of reflecting in the most intense degree, and of enjoying
the greatest pleasure, and feeling the greatest pain, by
means of that reflection, without any assistance from our
senses ; and without any at all, which we know of, from
that body, which will be dissolved- by death. It does not
appear, then, that the relation of this gross body to the re-
flecting being, is in any degree, necessary to thinking ; to
our intellectual enjoyments or sufferings : nor, consequently,
hat the dissolution, or alieaation of the former by death, will
be the destruction of those present powers, which render us
capable of this state of reflection. Further, there are in-
stances of moral diseases, which do not at all affect our
present intellectual powers ; and this affords a presumption,
that those diseases will not destroy these present powers.
Indeed, from the observations made above,* it appears, that
there is no presumption, from their mutually affecting each
Dther, that the dissolution of the body is the destruction of
Pages 74, 75, 76.
. ^V^,
' i/7*^
126 OF A FUTURE LIFE. [FART I.
the living agent. And by the same reasoning if must ap-
pear, too, that there is no presump ion, fiom their n un ;;!:y
affecting each other, that the dissolution of the body is the
destruction of our present reflecting powers ; but instances
of their not affecting each other, afford a presumptiui c,i , Le
contrarj'. Instances of mortal disease not impctiriug our
present reflecting powers, evidently ti;rn our thoughts even
from imagining such diseases to be the destruction of iht in.
Sevfial things, indet d, greatlyaffect all our living powers,
and at length, suspend the exercise of them ; as, for in-
stance, drowsiness, increasing till it, ends in sound sleep :
and from hence we might have imagined it would destroy
them, till we found, by experience, the weakness of this way
of judging. But, in the diseases now mentioned, there is not
so much as the shadow of probability, to lead us to any
such conclusion, as to the reflecting powers which we have
at present ; for, in those diseases, persons the moment before
death appear to be in the highest vigor of life. They dis-
cover apprehension, memory, reason, all eiuire ; with the
utmost force of affection ; sense of a character, of shame
and honor ; and the highest mental enjoyments and suffer-
ings, even to tile last gasp : and these surely prove even
greater vigor of life than bodily strength does. INow, uhat
pretence is there for thinking, that a progressive disease,
when arrived to such a degree, I mean that degree which
is mortal, will destroy those powers, which were not impair-
ed, which were not affected" by it, during its whole progress,
quite up to that degree? And if death, by diseases of this
kind, is not the destruction of our present reflecting powers,
it will scarce be thought that death by any other means is.
It is obvious that this general observation may be carried
on further : and there appears so little connexion between
our bodily powers of sensation, and our present powers of
reflection, that there is no reason to conclude that death,
which destroys the former, does so much as suspend the
exeicise of the latter, or interrupt our continuing to exist in
t);e hke slate of reflection which we do now. For, suspen-
sion of reason, memory, and the affections which they ex-
cite, is n6 part of the idea of death, nor is implied in our
notion of it. And our daily experiencing- these powers to be
exerc.sed, without any assistance, that we know of, from
those bodies which will be dissolved by death ; and our find-
ing often, that the exercise of t,iuem is so lively to the last ;
these things afford a sensible apprehension, that death may
CHAP. I.] OF A FUTURE LIFE. 127
not perhaps be so much as a discontinuance of the exercise
of these powers, nor of the enjoyments and sufferings which
it implies;* so that our posthumous life, whatever there may
be in it additional to oui present, yet may not be entirely be-
ginning anew, but going on. Death may, in some sort, and
in some respects, answer to our birth, which is not a sus-
pension of the faculties which we had before it, or a total
change of the state of "life in which we existed when in the
womb, but a continuation of both, with such and such great
alterations.
Nay, for ought we know of ourselves, of our present life,
and of death, death may immediately, in the natural course
of things, put us into a higher and more enlarged state of
life, as our birth does ;| a state in which our capacities and
sphere of perception, and of action, may be much greater
than at present. For, as our relation to our external organs
of sense renders us capable of existing in our present state
of sensation, so it may be the only natural hindrance to our
existing, immediately and of course, in a higher state of re-
flection. The truth is, reason does not at all show us in
what state death naturally leaves us. But were we sure
that it would suspend all our perceptive and active powers,
yet the suspension of a power, and the destruction of it, are
effects so totally different in kind, as we experience from
sleep and a swoon, that we cannot in any wise argue from
one to the other ; or conclude, even to the lowest degree of
probability, that the same kind of force which is sufficient to
suspend our faculties, though it be increased ever so much,
will be sufficient to destroy them.
These observations together may be sufficient to show,
how little presumption there is that death is the destruction
* There are three distinct questions, relating to a future life, here con-
sidered: Whether death be the destruction of living agents 1 If not,
Whether it be the destruction of their present powers of reflection, as it
certainly is the destruction of their present powers of sensation ? And if
not, Whether it be the suspension, or discontinuance of the exercise, of
these present reflecting powers ? Now, if there be no reason to believe
the last, there will be, it that were possible, less for the next, and less still
for the first.
T This, according to Strabo, was the opinion of the Brahmans: vopi-
tii> per yap 13 TOV ntv cvVai'c fiiyv.&s (. aKjirjr xvoftviav ttvai' TOV <k Oavaror,
yevcGif us TOV oraj Btov. icai TOV tveatpoya rots ^i^o<ro<^i7<rotri. Lib. XV. p.
103'.). Ed. Amst. 17U7. To which opinion perhaps Antoninus may
allude in these words, cL $ vw ncotusws. * tpitptior tic icnt yaorpoj ri)j
yvi-atnof ax \c\Qjj, sra>f ttStytcBm TIJV woav tv y TO ij/VY&ftov tru TV cAvrof
rrrs a vcfcirm. Lib. IX. C. 3.
128 or A FUTURE LIFE, [PART I-
of human creatures. However, there is the shadow of an
analogy, which may lead us to imagine it is ; the supposed
likeness which is observed between the decay of vegetables
and of living creatures. And this likeness is indeed suffi-
cient to afford the poets very apt allusions to the flowers of
the field, in their pictures of the frailty of our present life.
But, in reason, the analogy is so far from holding, that there
appears no ground even for the comparison, as to the present
question ; because one of the two subjects compared is
wholly void of that, which is the principle and chief thing in
the other, the power of perception and action ; and which is
the only thing we are inquiring about the continuance of.
So that the destruction of a vegetable is an event not simi-
lar, or analogous, to the destruction of a living agent.
But if, as was above intimated, leaving off the delusive
custom of substituting imagination in the room of experi-
ence, we would confine ourselves to what we do know and
understand ; if we would argue only from that, and from
that form our expectations, it would appear, at first sight,
that as no probability of living beings ever ceasing to be &o,
can be concluded from the reason of the thing ; so none
can be collected from the analogy of nature ; because we
cannot trace any living beings beyond death. But as we
are conscious that we are endued with capacities of percep-
tion and of action, and are living persons, what we are to
go upon is, that we shall continue so till we foresee some
accident, or event, which will endanger those capacities, or
be likely to destroy us ; which death does in no wise appear
to be.
And thus, when we go out of this world, we may pp.ss
into new scences, and a new state of life and action, just as
naturally as we came into the present. And this new state
may naturally be a social one. And the advantages of it, ad-
vantages of every kind, may naturally be bestowed, according
to some fixed general laws of wisdom, upon every one in pro-
portion to the degrees of his virtue. And though the advanta-
ges of that future natural state should not be bestowed, as these
of the present in some measure are, by the will of the society,
but entirely by his more immediate action, upon whom the
whole frame of nature depends, yet this distribution may be
just as natural, as their being distributed here by the instru-
mentality of men. And, indeed, though one were to allow
any confused undetermined sense, which people please to put
jpon the word natural^ it would be a shortness of thought
CJIii'. !._: OP A FUTURE LIFE. 129
scarce credible to imagine, that no system or course of things
can be so, but only what we see at present ;* especially
whilst the probability of a future life, or the natural immor-
tality of the soul, is admitted upon the evidence of reason ;
because this is really both admitting and denying at once, a
state of being different from the present to be natural. But
the only distinct meaning of that word is, stated, fixed, or set-
tled; since what is natural as much requires, and presuppo-
ses an intelligent agent to render it so, i. e. to effect it con-
tinually, or at stated times, as what is supernatural or mi-
raculous does to effect it for once. And from hence it must
follow, that persons' notion of what is natural will be enlar-
ged, in proportion to their greater knowledge of the works of
God and the dispensations of his Providence. Nor is there
any absurdity in supposing, ihat there may be beings in the
universe, whose capacities, and knowledge, and views, may
be so extensive, as that the whole Christian dispensation may
to them appear natural, i. e. analogous or conformable to
God's dealings with other parts of his creation, as natural as
the visible known course of things appears to us. For there
seems scarce any other possible sense to be put upon the
word, but that only in which it is here used ; similar, stated,
or uniform.
This credibility of a future life, which has been here in-
sisted upon, how little soever it may satisfy our curiosity,
seems to answer all the purposes of religion, in like manner
as a demonstrative proof would. Indeed, a proof, even a de-
monstrative one, of a future life, would not be a proof of reli-
gion. Fur, that we are to live hereafter, is just as reconcilia*
ble with the scheme of atheism, and as well to be accounted
for by it, as that we are now alive is ; and therefore nothing
can be more absurd than to argue from that scheme, that
there can be no future state. But as religion implies a fu-
ture state, any presumption against such a state is a pre-
sumption against religion. And the foregoing observations
remove all presumptions of that sort, and prove, to a very
considerable degree of probability, one fundamental doctrine
of rvliffion ; which if believed, would greatly open and dis-
pose the mind seriously to attend to the general evidence of
'.he v, hole.
* See Part ii. ch. 2. and Part ii. ch. 3.
130 OT THE GOVERNMENT O? GOD f PART 1
CHAPTER 11.
Of the Government of God by Rewards and Pmishments \
and particularly of the latter.
THAT which makes the question concerning' a future life
to be of so great importance to us, is our capacity of happi-
ness and misery. And that which makes the consideration
of it to be of so great importance to us, is the supposition of
our happiness and misery hereafter, depending upon our ac-
tions here. Without this, indeed, curiosity could not but
sometimes bring a subject, in which we may be so highly
interested, to our thoughts ; especially upon the mortality
of others, or the near prospect of our own. But reasonable
men would not take any farther thought about hereafter,
than what should happen thus occasionally to rise in their
minds, if it were certain that our future interest no way de-
pend upon our present behaviour ; whereas, on the contrary,
if there be ground, either from analogy or any thine: else, to
think it does, then there is reason also for the most active
thought and solicitude to secure that interest ; to behave so
as that we may escape that misery, and obtain that happi-
ness in another life, which we not only suppose ourselves
capable of, but which we apprehend also is put in our own
power. And whether there be ground for this last appre-
hension, certainly would deserve to be most seriously consi-
dered, were there no other proof of a future life, and interest,
than that, presumptive one which the foregoing observations
amount to.
Now, in the present state, all which we enjoy, and a great
part of what we suffer, is put in our own power. For plea-
sure and pain are the consequences of our actions ; and we
are endued by the Author of our nature with capacities of
foreseeing these consequences. We find, by experience, he
does not so much as preserve our lives exclusively of our own
care and attention to provide ourselves with, and to make
CHAP. II.] BY REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 13
use of, that sustenance, by which he has appointed our lives
shall be preserved, and without which he has appointed they
shall not be preserved at all. And in general we foresee, that
the external things, which are the objects of our various pas-
sions, can neither be obtained nor enjoyed, without exerting
ourselves in such and such manners ; but by thus exerting
ourselves, we obtain and enjoy, these objects, in which our
natural good consists, or by this means God gives us the pos-
session and enjoyment of them. I know not that we have
any one kind or degree of enjoyment, but by the means of
our own actions. And by prudence and care, we may, for
the most part, pass our days in tolerable ease and quiet : or,
on the contrary, we may, by rashness, ungoverned passion,
wilfulness, or even by negligence, make ourselves as misera-
ble as ever we please. And many do please to make them-
selves extremely miserable, i. e. to do what they know be-
forehand will render them so. They follow those ways, the
fruit of which they know, by instruction, example, experi-
ence, will be disgrace, and, poverty, and sickness, and
untimely death. This every one observes to be the general
course of things ; though it is to be allowed, we cannot find
by experience, lhat all our sufferings are owing to our own
follies--.
Why the Author of Nature does not give his creatures
promiscuously such and such perceptions, \\ithout regard to
their behaviour ; why he does not make them happy with-
out the instrumentality of their own actions, and prevent
their bringing any sufferings upon themselves, is another
matter. Perhaps there may be some impossibilities in the
nature of things, which we are unacquainted with ;* Or less
happiness, it may be, would, upon the whole, be produced
by such a method of conduct, than is by the present : Or,
perhaps, divine goodness, with which, if I mistake not, we
make very free in our speculations, may not be a bare single
disposition to produce happiness ; bxit a disposition to make
the good, the faithful, the honest man, happy. Perhaps an.
infinitely perfect Mind may be pleased with seeing his crea-
tures behave suitably to the nature which he has given ;hem;
to the relations which he has placed them in to each oiher ;
and to that which they stand in to himself; that relpron to
hnn^'lr. which during their existence, is even necessary, and
which is the most important one of all. Perhaps, 1 say, an
* Part i. chap. 7
132 OF THE GOVERNMENT Op GOD [PART I
infinitely perfect Mind may be pleased with this moral piety
of moral agent?, in and for itself, as well as upon account, of
its being essentially conducive to the happiness of his crea-
tion. Or the whole end, for which God made, and thus go-
verns the world, may be utterly beyond the reach of our fa-
culties : There may be somewhat in it as impossible for us
'c Lave any conception of, as for a blind man to have a con-
>p:ion of colors. But however this be, it is certain matter
of universal experience, that the general method of divine ad-
ministration is, forewarning us, or giving as capacities to fore-
see, with more or less clearness, that if we act so and so, we
shall have such enjoyments, if so and so, such sufferings; and
giving us those enjoyments, and making us feel those surfer-
ings, in consequence of our actions.
' But all this is to be ascribed to the general course of na-
ture.' True. This is the very thing which 1 am observ-
ing. It is to be ascribed to the general course of nature j
t. e. not surely to the words, or ideas, Course of nature, bu*
to him who appointed it, and put f things into it; or to 3
course of operation, from its uniformity or consistency, call-
ed natural,* and which necessarily implies an operating
agent. For when men find themselves necessitated to con-
fess an Author of Nature, or that God is the natural gove-
nor of the world, they must not deny this again, because
his government is uniform they must not deny that he
does all things at all, because he does them constantly ; be-
cause the effects of his acting are permanent, whether his
acting be so or not ; though there is no reason to think it is
not. In short, every man, in every thing he does, naturally
acts upon the forethought and apprehension of avoiding
evil, or obtaining good : and if the natural course of things
be the appointment of God, and our natural faculties of
knowledge and experience are given us by him, then the
good and bad consequences which follow our actions are his
appointment, and our foresight of those consequences is a
warning given us by him, how we are to act.
: Is the pleasure, then, naturally accompanying every parti-
cular gratification of passion, intended to put us upon gra-
tifying ourselves in every such particular instance, and as a
reward lo us for so doing V No, certainly. Nor is it to be
said, that our eyes were naturally intended to give us the
sight of each particular object to which they do or can ex-
* Page* 83, 84.
CllAf. II-3 BY REWARHS AND PUNISHMENTS. 133
tend; objects which are destructive of them, or which, for any
other reason, it may become us to turn our eyes from. Ye.
there is no doubt, but that our eyes were intended for us tc
see with. So neither is there any doubt, but that the foreseei.
pleasures and pains, belonging to the passions, were inten
ded, in general, to induce mankind to act in such and si:L
manners.
Now, from this general observation, obvious to every one,
that God has given us to understand he has appointed ?uti=
faction and delight to be the consequence of our acting in
one manner, and pain and uneasiness of our acting in an-
other, and of our not acting at all ; and that we fnd the
consequences, which we were beforehand informed of, uni-
formly to follow : we may learn, that we are at present ac-
tually under his government, in the strictest and most pro-
per sense ; in such a sense, as that he rewards and punish-
es us for our actions. An Author of Nature being suppo-
sed, it is not so much a deduction of reason as a matter of
experience, that we are thus under his government : under
his government, in the same sense as we are under the go-
vernment of civil magistrates. Because the annexing plea-
sure to some actions, and pain to others, in our power to do
or forbear, and giving notice of this appointment beforehand
to those whom it concerns, is the proper formal notion of go-
vernment. Whether the pleasure or pain which thus fol-
lows upon our behaviour, be owing to the Author of Na-
ture's acting upon us every moment which we feel it, or to
his having at once contrived and executed his own part in
the plan of the world, makes no alteration as to the matter be-
fore us. For, if civil magistrates could make the sanction
of their laws take place, without interposing at all, aftei
they had passed them ; without a trial, and the formalities
of an execution : if they were able to make their laws exe
cute them themselves or every offender to execute them
upon himself, we should be just in the same sense un-
der their government then, as we are now ; but in a
imich higher degree, and more perfect manner. Vain
is the ridicule with which one foresees some persons will
divert themselves, upon finding lesser pains considered as
instances of divine punishment. There is no possibility of
answering or evading the general thing here intended, witn-
out denying all final causes. For, final causes being admit
ted, the pleasures and pains now mentioned must be admitted
'oo, as instances of them. And if they are ; if God annex
12
134 OF THE GOVENRNMENT OP GOD [PART 1.
es delight to some actions and uneasiness to other?, with an
apparent design to induce us to act so and so, then he no.
only dispenses happiness and misery, but also rewards and
punishes actions. If, for example, the pain which we fee.
upon doing what tends to the destruction of our bodies, sup-
pose upon too near approaches to fire, or upon wounding
ourselves, be appointed by the Author of Nature to prevent
our doing what thus tends to our destruction ; this is alto-
gether as much an instance of his punishing our aclions,
and consequently of our being under his government, as de-
claring, by a voice from heaven, that if we acted so, he
would inflict^uch pain upon us, and inflicting it whether it
be greater or less.
Thus we find, that the true notion or conception of the
Author of Nature, is that of a master or governor, prior to
the consideration of hi? moral attributes. The fact of our
case, which we find by experience, is, that he actually ex-
ercises dominion or government over us at present, by re-
warding and punishing us for our actions, in as strict and
proper a sense of these words, and even in the same sense
as children, servants, subjects, are rewarded and punished by
those who govern them.
And thus the whole analogy of nature, the whole present
course of things, most fully shows, that there is nothing in-
credible in the general doctrine of religion, that God will re-
ward and punish men for their actions hereafter; nothing
incredible, I mean, arising out of the notion of rewarding
and punishing, for the whole course of nature is a present
instance of his exercising that government over us, which
implies in it rewarding and punishing.
BUT, as divine punishment is what men chiefly object
against, and are most unwilling to allow, it may be proper to
mention some circumstances in the natural course of pun-
ishments at present, which are analogous to what religion
Teaches us concernine a future state of puni?hmenr ; indeed
so analogous, that as they add a further credibility to it, sc
they cannot but raise a most serious apprehension of it iu
those who will attend to them.
CHAP. II.] BY REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 135
It has been now observed, that such and such miseries na-
turally follow such and such actions of imprudence and wil
fulness, as well as actions more commonly and more distinct-
ly considered as vicious ; and that these consequences, when
they may be foreseen, are properly natural punishments an-
nexed to such actions. For the general thing here insisted
upon is, not that we see a great deal of misery in the world,
but a great deal which men bring upon themselves by their
own behaviour, which they might have foreseen and avoid-
ed. Now, the circumstances of these natural punishments,
particularly deserving our attention, are such as these : That
oftentimes they follow, or are inflicted in consequence of ac-
tions which procure many present advantages, and are ac-
companied with much present pleasure ; for instance, sick-
ness and untimely death is the consequence of intemperance,
though accompanied with the highest mirth and jollity
That these punishments are often much greater than the ad-
vantages or pleasures obtained by the actions, of which they
are the punishments or consequences : That though we may
imagine a constitution of nature, in which these natural pun-
ishments, which are in fact to follow, would follow immedi
ately upon such actions being done, or very scon after ; we
find, on the contrary, in our world, that they are often delay-
ed a great while, sometimes even till long after the actions
occasioning them are forgot ; so that the constitution of na-
ture is such, that delay of punishment is no sort nor degree
of presumption of final impunity : That, after such delay,
these natural punishments or miseries often come, not by de-
grees, but suddenly, with violence, and at once ; however,
the chief misery often does : That, as certainty of such dis
tant misery following such actions is never afforded persons,
so, perhaps, during the actions, they have seldom a distinct
full expectation of its following :* and many times the case
is only thus, that they see in general, or may see, the credi-
bility that intemperance, suppose, -will bring after its diseases;
civil crimes, civil punishments ; when yet the real probabili
ty often is, that they shall escape ; but thmgs notwiihsiand
ing take their destined course, and the misevy inevitably
follows at its appointed time, in very many of these cases
Thus, also, though youth may be alleged as an excuse foi
rashness and folly, as being naturally thoughtless, and noi
clearly foreseeing all the consequences of being untrac table
* See Part ii. chap. 6.
136 OP THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD [PART I.
pad profligate ; this does not hinder but that these conse-
quences follow, and are grievously felt throughout the
whole course of future life. Habits contracted, even in
that age, are often utter ruin ; and men's success in the
world, not only in the common sense of worldly success, but
their real happiness and misery depends, in a great degree,
and in various ways, upon the manner in which they pass
their youth ; which consequences they, for the most part,
neglect to consider, and perhaps seldom can properly be said
to believe beforehand. It requires also to be mentioned, that,
in numberless cases, the natural course of things affords us
opportunities for procuring advantages to ourselves at certain
times, which we cannot procure when we will ; nor even
recall the opportunities, if we have neglected them. Indeed,
the general course of nature is an example of this. If, dur-
ing the opportunity of youth, persons are indocile and self-
wiJled, they inevitably suffer in their future life, for want of
those acquirements which they neglected the natural sea-
son of attaining. If the husbandman lets his seed-time
pass without sowing, the whole year is lost to him beyond
recovery. In like manner, though after men have been
guilty of folly and extravagance, up to a certain degree, it is
often in their power, for instance, to retrieve their affairs, to
recover their health and character, at least in good measure,
yet real reformation is, in many cases, of no avail at all to-
wards preventing the miseries, poverty, sickness, infamy, na-
turally annexed :o folly and extravagance, exceeding that de-
gree. There is a certain bound to imprudence and misbe-
haviour, which being transgressed, there remains no place
for repentance in the natural course of things. It is fur-
ther, very much to be remarked, that neglects from inconsi-
derateness, want of attention,* not looking about us to see
what we have to do, are often attended with consequences
altogether as dreadful as any active misbehaviour, from the
most extravagant passion. And, lastly, civil government
being natural, the punishments of it are so too ; and some
of these punishments are capital, as the effects of a disso-
lute course of pleasure are often mortal. So that many
natural punishments are finalf to him who incurs them, if
* Part iL chap. 6.
t The general consideration of a future state of punishment most evi-
dently belongs to the subject of natural religion. But if any of these re-
flections should be thought to relate more particularly to this doctrine, a*
taught in scripture, the reader is desired to observe, that Gentile writers
CHAP. II.] BY REGARDS AND PUMSHMENT3. 137
considered only in his temporal capacity ; and seem inflic-
ted by natural appointment, either to remove the offender
out of the way of being further mischievous, or as an ex
ample, though frequently a disregarded one, to those -who
are left behind.
These things are not what we call accidental, or to be
rnet with only now and then ; but they are things of every
day's experience ; they proceed from general laws, very
general ones, by which God governs the world, in the na-
tural course of his providence. And they are so analogous
to what religion teaches us concerning the future punish-
ment of the wicked, so much of a piece with it, that both
would naturally be expressed in the very same words and
manner of description. In the book of Proverbs,* for in-
stance, Wisdom is introduced as frequenting the most pub-
lic places of resort, and as rejected when she offers herself
as the natural appointed guide of human life. ' How long,'
speaking to those who are passing through it, ' how long,
ye simple ones, will ye love folly, and the scorners delight in
their scorning, and fools hate knowledge ? Turn ye at my
reproof. Behold, I will pour out my spirit upon you, I will
make known my words unto you.' But upon being neg-
lected, ' Because I have called, and ye refused, I have
stretched out my hand, and no man regarded ; but ye have
set at naught all my counsel, and would none of rny re-
proof: I also will laugh at your calamity, I will mock
when your fear corneth ; when your fear corneth as deso-
lation, and your destruction cometh as a whirlwind ; when
both moralists and poets, speak of the future punishn.ent of the wicked,
both as to the duration and decree of it, in a like manner of expression
and of description as the Scripture does. So that all which can positively
iie asserted to be matter of mere revelation, with regard to this doctrine,
seems to be, that the great distinction between the righteous and the
wicked shall be made af the end of this world ; that each shall then receive
according to his deserts. Reason did, as it well might, conclude, that
it should, finally and upon the whole, be well with the righteous and ill
with the wicked ; but it could not be determined, upon any principles of
reason, whether human creatures might not have been appointed to pass
through other states of life and being, l>ef<jre that distributive justice
should finally and ellectually take place. Revelation teaches us, that the
next state of things, after the present, is appointed for the execution of
this justice; that it shall be no longer delayed; but Me mystery of God,
the great mystery of his sufit ring *ic-o and confusion to prevail, shall then
be finished ; and he will take to him his great power, and will reign, by
renderbjg to every one according to his works.
* Chan. I.
12*
138 OF THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD [PART I.
distress and anguish corneth upon you. Then shall they
call upon me, but I will not answer ; they shall seek me
early, but they shall not find me.' This passage, every one
sees, is poetical, and some parts of it are, highly figui alive ;
but their meaning is obvious. And the thing intended is ex
pressed more literally in the following words : ' For thai
they hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the
Lor I ; therefore shall they eat the fruit of their own way,
and be filled with their own devices. For the security of
the simple shall slay them, and the prosperity of fools shall
destroy them.' And the whole passage is so equalty appli-
cable to what we experience in the present world, concern-
ing the consequences of men's actions and to what reli-
gion teaches us is to be expected in another, that it
may be questioned which of the two was principally in-
tended.
Indeed, when one has been recollecting the proper proofs
of a future state of rewards and punishments, nothing, me-
tbinks. can give one so sensible an apprehension of the lat-
ter, or representation of it to the mind, as observing, that
after the many disregarded checks, admonitions, and warn-
ings, which people meet with in the ways of vice, and folly,
and extravagance ; warnings from their very nature ; from
the examples of others ; from the lesser inconveniences which
they bring upon themselves ; from the instructions of wise
and virtuous men : after these have been long despised,
scorned, ridiculed ; after the chief bad consequences, tem-
poral consequences, of their follies, have been delayed for a
great while ; at length they break in irresistibly, like an
aimed force ; repentance is too late to relieve, and can serve
only to aggravate their distress : the case is become des-
perate ; and poverty and sickness, remorse and anguish, in-
famy and death, the effects of their own doings, overwhelm
them, beyond possibility of remedy or escape. This is an
account of what is in fact the general constitution of na-
ture
It is not in any sort meant, that according to what ap
j> iars at present of the natural course of things, men are
always uniformly punished in proportion to their misbe-
haviour ; but that, there are very many instances of misbe-
haviour punished in the several ways now mentioned, and
very dreadful instances too, sufficient to show what the laws
of the universe may admit ; and, if thoroughly considered,
sufficient fully to answer all objections against the credibili-
CHAP. II. J BY REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 139
ty of a future state of punishments, from any imaginations,
that the frailty of our nature and external temptations al-
most annihilate th>9 guilt of human vices ; as well as objec-
tions of another sort ; from necessity ; from suppositions
that the will of an infinite Being cannot be contradicted ; or
thai he must be incapable of offence and provocation.*
Reflections of this kind are not without their terrors to
serious persons, the most free? from enthusiasm, and of the
greatest strength of mind ; but it is fit things be stated and
considered as they really are. And there is, in the present
age, a certain fearlessness with regard to what may bo
hereafter under the government of God, which nothing but
an universally acknowledged demonstration on the side of
atheism can justify, and which makes it quite necessary that
men be reminded, and, if possible, made to feel, that there
is no sort of ground for being thus presumptuous, even
upon the most sceptical principles. For, may it not be said
of any person, upon his being born into the world, he may
behave so as to be of no service to it, but by being made an
example of the woful effects of vice and folly : That he
may, as any one may, if he will, incur an infamous execu-
tion from the hands of civil justice ; or in some other course
of extravagance shorten his days ; or bring upon himself
inf. uny and diseases worse than death 1 So that it had
been better for him, even with regard to I he present world,
that he had never been born. And is there any pretence of
reason for people to think themselves secure, and talk as if
ihey had certain proof, that., let them act as licentiously as
they will, there can be nothing analogous to this, with re-
gard to a future and more general interest, under the provi-
lence and government of the same God 1
* See Chap. 4 and d.
140 OF THE MORAL [PART I
CHAPTER III.
Of the Moral Government of God.
As the manifold appearances of design and of final cau-
ses, in the constitution of the world, prove it to be the work
of an Intelligent Mind, so the particular final causes of
pleasxire and pain, distributed amongst his creatures, prove
that they are under his government ; what may be called
his natural government of creatures endued with sense and
reason. This, however, implies somewhat more than seems
usually attended to, when we speak of God's natural gov-
ernment of the world. It implies government of the very
same kind with that which a master exercises ov^r his ser-
vants, or a civil magistrate over his subjects. These latter
instances of final causes as really prove an intelligent gov-
ernor of the world, in the sense now mentioned, and before*
distinctly treated of, as any other instances of final causes
prove an intelligent JVLaker of it*
But this alone does not appear, at first sight, to determine
any thing certainly, concerning the moral character of the
Author of nature, considered in this relation of governor ;
does not ascertain his government to be moral, or prove that
he is the righteous Judge of the world. Moral government
consists, not barely in rewarding and punishing men for
their actions, which the most tyrannical person may do ;
but in rewarding the righteous and punishing the wicked ;
in rendering to men according to their actions, considered as
good or evil. And the perfection. of moral government con-
sists in doing this, with regard to a 1 intelligent creatures,
in an exact proportion to their personal merits or demerits.
Some men seem to think the only character of the
Author of nature to be that of simple absolute benevolpnce.
This, considered as a principle of action, and infinite in de-
gree, is a disposition to produce the greatest possible huppi-
* Chap. 2.
CHAP. 11I.J GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 141
ne?.s, without regard to persons' behaviour, otherwise than as
such regard would produce higher degrees of it. And t\ p-
poking this to be I he only character of God, veracity and
justice in him would be nothing but benevolence conducted
by wisdom. Now, surely this ought, not to be asserted, un-
less it can be proved ; for we should speak with cautious
reverence upon such a subject. And whether it can be
proved or no, is not the thing here to he inquired into ; but
whe; her, in the constitution and conduct of the world, a
righieous government be not discernibly planned out ; which
necessarily implies a righteous governor. There may pos-
sibly be in the creation of beings, to whom the aulhor of
nature manifests himself .under this most amiable of all
characters, this of infinite absolute benevolence ; for it is the
most amiable, supposing it not, as perhaps it is not, incom-
patible with justice : but he manifests himself to us under
ihe character of a righteous governor. He may, consist-
en ;ly with this, be simply and absolutely benevolent, in the
sense now explained ; but he has, for he has given us a
proof in the constitution and conduct of the world that he is,
a governor over servants, as he rewards and punishes us for
our actions. And in the constitution and conduct of it, he
may also have given, besides the reason of the thing, and
the natural presages of conscience^clear and distinct inti-
mations, that, his government is righieous or moral : clear tc
svch as think the nature of it deserving their attention ; and
yet not to every careless person who casts a transient reflec-
tion upon the subject.*
But it is particularly to be observed, that the divine go-
vernment, which we experience ourselves under in the pre-
sent slate, taken alone, is allowed not to be the perfection of
moral government. And yet this by no means hinders, but
that there may be somewhat, be it more or less, truly moral
in it. A righteous government rnay plainly appear to be
carried on to some -degree ; enough to give us the apprehen-
sion that it shall be completed, or carried on to that degree
* The objections against religion, from the evidence of its not being
universal, nor so strong as n.ight possibly have been, may be urged,
agai i ist natural religion, as well as against revealed. And, therefore, the
consideration of them belongs to the first part of this Treatise, as well as
the second. But as these objectiuns are chiefly urged ajrahist reveaitd
religion, I chose to consider them in the second part. And the answer to
them there, Chap. 6, as ur^ed against Christianity, being almost equally
applicable to them as urgeil against the Religion of Nature, to avoid re^o
tition, the reader is reierred to that cliapter.
OF THE MORAL [PART L
of perfection which religion teaches us it shall ; but which
cannot appear, till much more of the divine admim^nt ;< ,n
be seen, than can in the present, life. And the design of this
chapter is to inquire how f;u this is the case ; iiow far, over
and above the moial nature* wliich God has given us, and
our natural notion of him, as righteous governor of those
1 is creatures to whoin^he has j'tven this nature ;| I say how
far, besides this, the principles and beginnings of moral
government over the world may be discerned notwithstand-
ing and amidst all the confusion and disorder of it.
Now one might mention here, what has been often urged
wiih great force, that, in general, less uneasiness, and more
satisfaction, are the natural consequences^ of a virtuous
than a vicious course of life, in the present, state as
instance of moral government established in nature ;
instance of it collected from experience and present mut-
ter of fact. But it must be owned a thing of diffi-
culty to weigh and balance pleasures and uneasinesses,
each among themselves,, and also amongst each oiher,
so as to make an estimate with an. exactness, of the
overplus of happiness on the side of virtue. And it is not
impossible, that, amidst the infinite disorders of the world,
there may be exceptions to the happiness of virtue, even
with regard to those persons whose course of life, from their
youth up, has been blameless ; and more wiih regard to
those, who have gone on for some time in the ways of vice,
and have afterwards reformed For suppose an instance of
the latter case ; a person wiih his passions inflamed, hi? na-
tural faculty of self-government impaired by habits of in-
dulgence, and with all his vices about him, like so nuinj 7
harpiors, craving for their accustomed* gratification : who
can say how long it might be before such a person would
find more satisfaction in the reasonableness and present good
cu iseijiiences -of virtue, than difficulties and self-denied in
the restraints of it 1 Experience also shows, that men can,
to a great degree, get over their- sense of shame, so as lhat
by professing themselves to be without principle, and avow
ing even direct viliany, they can support themselves against
the infamy of it. But as the ill actions of any one will pro-
b&bly be more talked of, and oftener thrown in his way, upon
his reformation ; so the infamy of them will be much more
felt, after the natural sense of virtue and of honor is reco-
*,
* Dissertation 2. T Chap. 6.
t See Lord Shafteebury'a Inquiry concerning Virtue. Part 2.
CHAP. III.] GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 143
vered. Uneasinesses of this kind ought indeed to be put to
the account of former vice? ; yet it will be said, they are in
part the consequences of reformation. Still I am far from
allowing it doubtful, whether virtue, upon the whole, be hap-
pier than vice in the present world ; but if it were, yet the be-
ginnings of a righteous administration may, beyond all ques-
tion, be found in nature, if we will attentively inquire after
them. And,
I. In whatever manner the notion of God's moral govern-
ment over the world might be treated, if it did not appear
whether he were, in a proper sense, our governor at all ; yet
when it is certain matter of experience, that he does mani-
fest himself to us under the character of a governor, in the
sense explained,* it must deserve to be considered, whether
there be not reason to apprehend, that he maybe a righteous
or moral governor. Bince it appears to be fact, that
God does govern mankind by the method of rewards
and punishments, according to some settled rulers of
distribution, it is surely a question to be asked, What
presumption is there against his finally rewarding and
punishing them according to this particlar rule, namely, as
they act reasonably or unreasonably, virtuously or viciously 1
since rendering man happy or miserable by this rule, certain-
ty falls in, much more falls in, with pur natural apprehen-
sions and sense of things, than doing so by any other rule,
whatever ; since rewarding and punishing actions by any
other rule, would appear much harder to be accounted for by
minds formed as he has formed ours. Be the evidence of reli-
gion, then, more or less clear, the expectation which it raises
in us, that the righteous shall upon the whole, be happy, and
the wicked miserable, cannot, however, possibly be consi-
dered as absurd or chimerical ; because it is no more than an
expectation, that a method of government, already begun,
shall be carried on, the method of rewarding and punishn g
actions ; and shall be carried on by a particular rule, which
unavoidably appears to us, at first sight, more natural than
any other, the rule which we call distributive justice. Nor,
II. Ought it to be entirely passed over, that tranquillity,
satisfaction, and external advantages, being the natural con-
sequences of prudent management of ourselves and our
affairs ; and rashness, profligate negligence, and wilful
folly, bringing after them many inconvemencies and suffer-
ings ; these afford instances of a right constitution of na-
Chap, a
144 OF THE MORAL [PART I.
ture ; as th- correction of children, for their own sakes and
by the way of example, when they run into danger or hurt
themselves, is a part of right education. And thus, that
God governs the world by general fixed laws ; that he has
endued us with capacities of reflecting upon this constitu-
tion of things, and forseeing the good and bad consequences
of our behaviour, plainly implies some sort of moral govern-
rrent : since from such a constitution of things it cannot but
follow, that prudence and imprudence, which are of the na-
ture of virtue and vice,* must be, as they are, respectively
rewarded and punished.
III. From the natural course of things, vicious actions
are, to a great degree, actually punished as mischievous to
society ; and besides punishment actually inflicted upon this
account, there is also the fear and apprehension of it in those
persons whose crimes have rendered them obnoxious to it
in case of a discovery ; this state of fear being itself often a
very considerable punishment. The natural fear and appre-
hension oi it too, which restrains from such crimes, is a de-
claration of nature against them. It is necessary to the
very being of soeiety, that vices destructive of it should be
punished as being so ; the vices of falsehood, injustice, cruel-
ty : which punishment, therefore, is as natural as society,
and so is an instance of a kind of moral government,
naturally established, and actually taking place. And,
since the certain natural course of things is the con-
duct of Providence or the government of God, though
carried on by the instrumentality of men, the observa-
tion here made amounts to this, that mankind find them-
selves placed by him in such circumstances, as that they
are unavoidably accountable for their behaviour, and are
often punished, and sometimes rewarded, under his go-
vernment, in the view of their being mischievous or eminent-
ly beneficial to society.
If it be objected that good actions, and such as are bene-
ficial to society, are often punished, as in the case of perse-
cution, and in other cases, and that ill and mischievous ac-
tions are often rewarded ; it may be answered distinctly,
first, that this is in no sort necessary, and consequently not
natural in the sense in which it is necessary, and therefore
natural, that ill or mischievous actions should be punished ;
and, in the next place, that good actions are never punished,
considered as beneficial to society, nor ill actions rewarded,
* gee Dissertation 2.
CHAP. III.] GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 145
under the view of their being hurtful to it. So that it
stands good, without any thing on the side of vice to be set
over against it, that the Author of nature has as truly di-
rected that vicious actions, considered as mischievous to so-
ciety, should be punished, and put mankind under a neces-
sity of thus punishing them, as he has directed and neces-
sitated us to preserve our lives by food.
IV. In the natural course of things, virtue, as such, ia
actually rewarded, and vice, as such, punished ; which
seems to afford an instance, or example, not only of govern-
ment, but of moral government begun and established ;
moral in the strictest sense, though not in that perfection of
degree which religion teaches us to expect. In order to see
this more clearly, we must distinguish between actions them-
selves, and that quality ascribed to them, which we call vir-
tuous or vicious. The gratification itself of every natural
passion must be attended with delight ; and acquisitions of
fortune, however made, are acquisitions of the means or
materials of enjoyment. An action, then, by which any
natural passion is gratified, or fortune acquired, procures de-
light or advantage, abstracted from all consideration of the
morality of such action. Consequently, the pleasure or ad-
vantage in this case is gained by the action itself, not by the
morality, the virtuousness or viciousness of it, though it be,
peihaps, virtuous or vicious. Thus, to say such an action,
or course of behaviour, procured such pleasure or advantage,
or brought on such inconvenience and pain, is quite a differ-
ent thing from saying, that such good or bad effect was ow
ing to '.he virtue or vice of such an action or behaviour.
In one case an action, abstracted from all moral considera-
tion, produced its effect ; in the other case, for it will appear
that there are such cases, the morality of the action, the
action under a moral consideration, i. e. the virtuousness or
viciousness of it, produced the effect. Now I say, virtue,
as such, naturally procures considerable advantages to the
virtuous, and vice, as such, naturally occasions great incon-
venience, and even misery to the vicious, in very many in-
stances. The immediate "effects of virtue and vice upon
the mind and temper are to be mentioned as instances of
it. Vice, as such, is naturally attended with some sort of
uneasiness, and not uncommonly with great disturbance
and apprehension. That inward feeling which respecting
lesser matters and in familiar speech, we call being vexed
wiih oiie's self, and in matters of importance, ajid in more
13
146 OF THE MOKAL [PART 1
serious language, remorse, is an uneasiness naturally arising
from an action of man's own, reflected upon by himself as
wrong, unreasonable, faulty, i. c. vicious in greater or less
degrees ; and this manifestly is a different feeling from that
uneasiness which arises from a sense of mere loss or harm.
What is more common than to hear a man lamenting an
accident or event, and adding, But, however, he has the
satisfaction that he cannot blame himself for it ; or, on the
contrary, that he has the uneasiness of being sensible it waa
his own doing? Thus also, the disturbance and fear which
often follow upon a man's having done an injury, arise from
a sense of his being blame-worthy ; otherwise there would,
in many case?, be no ground of disturbance nor any reason
to fear resentment or shame. On the other hand, inward
security and peace, and a mind open to the several gratifi-
cations of life, are the natural attendants of innocence and
virtue ; to which must be added, the complacency, satisfac-
tion, and even joy of heart, which accompany the exercise,
the real exercise, of gratitude, friendship, benevolence.
And here, I think, ought to be mentioned, the fears of
future punishment, and peaceful hopes of a better life, in
those who fully believe or have any serious apprehension of
religion ; because these hopes and fears are present uneasi-
ness and satisfaction to the mind, and cannot be got rid of by
great part of the world, even by men who have thought
most thoroughly upon that subject of religion. And no
one can say how considerable this uneasiness and sa
tisfaction may be, or what, upon the whole,, it may
amount to.
In the next place comes in the consideration, that all
honest and good men are disposed to befriend honest good
men, as such, and to discountenance the vicious, as such,
and do so in some degree, indeed in a considerable degree ;
from which favor and discouragement cannot bat arise
considerable advantage and inconvenience. And though
the generality of the world have little regard to the morality
of their own actions, and may be supposed to have less to
that of others, when they themselves are not concerned ; yet }
1 tf any one be known to be a man of virtue, somehow or
other he will be favored, and good offices will be done him
from regard to his character, without remote views, occa-
sionally, and in some low degree, I think, by the generali-
ty of the world, as it happens to come in their way. Public
Honors, too, and advantages, are the natural consequences,
CHAP. 1II.J GOVERNMENT Of GOD. 147
are sometimes at least the consequences in fact, of virtuous
actions, of eminent justice, fidelity, charity, love to our coun-
try, considered in the view of being virtuous. And some
times even death itself, often infamy and external inconven-
iences, are the public consequences of vice, as vice. For
instance, the sense which mankind have of tyranny, injus-
tice, oppression, additional to the mere feeling or fear of mis-
ery, has doubtless been instrumental in bringing about
revolutions, which make a figure even in the history of the
world. For it is plain men resent injuries as implying fuul-
liness, and retaliate, not merely under the notion of shaving
received harm, but of having received wrong ; and they
have this resentment in behalf of others, as well as of them-
selves. So, likewise, even the generality are, in some de-
gree, grateful and disposed to return good offices, not mere-
ly because such a one has been the occasion of good to
them, but under the view that such good offices implied
kind intention and good desert in the doer. To all this t^ay
be added two or three particular things, which many per-
sons will think frivolous ; but to me nothing appears so,
which at all conies in towards determining a question of snch
importance, as whether there be or be not a moral institu-
tion of government, in the strictest sense moral, visibly es-
tablished and begun in nature. The particular things are
these: That in domestic government, which is doubtless
natural, children, and others also, are very generally punish-
ed for falsehood, and injustice, and ill-behaviour, as such, ana
rewarded for the contrary ; which are instances where vera-
city, and justice, and right behaviour, as such, are naturally
enfo';ed by rewards and punishments, whethei more or less
considerable in degree : that though civil government be
supposed to take cognizance of actions in no other view
than as prejudicial to society, without lespect to the mo-
rality of them, yet as such actions are immoral, so the
sense which men have of the immorality of them very great-
ly contributes, in different wa} r s, to bring offenders to justice;
and that entire absence of all crime and guilt, in the moral
sense, when plainly appearing, will almost of course procure,
and circumstances of aggravated guilt prevent, a remission
of the penalties annexed to civil crimes, in many cases,
though by no means in all.
Upon the whole, then, besides the good and bad effects
&f virtue anil vic<-. upon men's own minds, the course of the
does, in SOUQC measure, turn upon the approbation and
148 OF THE MORAL [PART I.
disapprobation of them, as such, in others. The sense of
well and ill doing, the presages of conscience, the love of
good characters and dislike of bad ones, honor, shame, re-
sentment, gratitude ; all these r considered in themselves,
and in their effects, do afford manifest real instances of vir-
tue, as such, naturally favored, nud of vice, as such, di*
countenanced, more or less, in the daily course of human
life ; in every age, in every relation, in every general cir-
cumstance of it. That God has given us a moral nature,*
may most justly be urged as a proof of our being under his
moral government ; but that he has placed us in a condition,
which gives this nature, as one may speak, scope to operate,
and in which it does unavoidably operate, i. e. influence
mankind to act, so as thus to favor and reward virtue, and
discountenance and punish vice ; this is not the same, but a
further additional proof of his moral government ; for it is
an instance of it. The first is a proof that he will finally
favor and support rirtue effectually ; the second is an ex-
ample of his favoring and supporting it at present, in some
degree
If a more distinct inquiry be made, when it arises, that
virtue, as> such, is often rewarded, and vice, as such is pun
ished, and this rule never inverted ; it will be found to pro-
ceed, 111 part, immediately from the moral nature itself which
God htis given us ; and also, in part, from his having given
us, together with this nature, so great a power over each
other's happmess and misery. For, first^ it is certain, that
peace and delight, in some degree and upon some occasions,
is the necessary and present effect of virtuous practice ; an
effect arising immediately from that constitution of our na-
ture. We are so made, that well-doing, as such, gives us
satisfaction, at least in some instances ; ill-doing, as such, in
none. And, secondly, from our moral nature, joined with
God's having put our happiness and misery, in many re"spects,
ui each other's power, it cannot but be that vice, as such,
some kinds and instances of it at least, will be infamous, and
men will be disposed to punish it as in itself detestable ; and
the villain will by no means be able always to avoid feeling
th;il infamy, any more than he will be able to escape this
further punishment which mankind will be disposed to in-
flict upon him under the notion of his deseiving it. But
?.here can be nothing on the side of vice to answer this j
* See Dissertation 2.
CHAP. III.] GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 149
because there is nothing in the human mind contradictory,
as the logicians speak, to virtue.' For virtue consists in a
regard to what is right and reasonable, as being so ; in a
regard to veracity, justice, charity, in themselves : and there
is surely no such thing as a like natural regard to false-
hood, injustice, cruelty. If it be thought, that there are in-
stances of an approbation of vice, as such, in itself, and for
its own sake, (though it does not appear to me that there is
any such thing at all ; but, supposing there be,) it is evi-
dently monstrous ; as much so as the most acknowledged
perversion of any passion whatever. Such instances ol
perversion, then, being left out as merely imaginary, or, how-
ever, unnatural j it must follow, from the frame of our nature,
and from our condition, in the respects now described, that
vice cannot at all be, and virtue cannot but be, favored, as
such, by others, upon some occasions ; and happy in itself,
in some degree. For what is here insisted upon, is not in
the degree in which virtue and vice are thus distinguished,
but only the thing itself, that they are so in some degree ;
though the whole good and bad effect of virtue and vice, as
such, is not inconsiderable in degree. But that they must
be thus distinguished,' in some degree, is in a manner neces-
sary ; it is matter of fact, of daily experience, even in the
greatest confusion of human affairs.
It is not pretended but that, in the natural course of
things, happiness and misery appear to be distributed by
other rules, than only the personal merit and demerit of
characters. They may sometimes be distributed by way
of mere discipline. There may be the wisest and best rea-
sons why the world should be governed by general laws,
from whence such promiscuous distribution perhaps must
follow ; and also why our happiness and misery should be
put in each other's power, in the degree which they are.
And these things, as in general they contribute to the re-
warding virtue and punishing vice, as such ; so they often
contribute also, not to the inversion of this, which is impos-
sible, but to the rendering persons prosperous though wick-
ed, afflicted though righteous ; and, which is worse, to the
rewarding some actions, though vicious, and punishing other
actions, though virtuous. ' But all thig cannot drown the
voice of nature in the conduct of Providence plainly declar-
ing itself for virtue, by way of distinction from vice, and
preference to it. For, our being so constituted as that virtue
and vice are thus naturally favored and discountenanced.
13*
150 OF THE MORAL [PART I.
rewarded and punished respectively a? such, is an infuinve
proof of the intent of nature lhat it should be so ; otherwise
the constitution of our mind, from which it thus immediately
and directly proceeds, would be absurd. But it cannot be
said, because virtuous actions are sometimes punished, and
vicious actions rewarded, that nature intended it. For,
though this great disorder is brought about, as all actions
ar<: done, by means of some natural passion, yet this may te,
as it undoubtedly is, brought about by the perversion of such
passion, implanted in us for other, and those very good pur
pose. A nd indeed these other and good purposes, even of
every passion, may be clearly seen.
We have trnn a declaration, in some degree of present
effect, from him who is supreme in nature, which side he
is of or what part he takes ; a declaration for vivtue, and
against vice. So far, therefore, as a man is true to virtue,
to veracity and justice, to equity and charity, and the right
of the case, in whatever he is concerned, so far he is on the
s^e of the divine administration, and cooperates with it ; and
from nence, to such a man, arises naturally a secret satisfac-
tion and sense of security, and implicit hope of somewhat
further. And,
V. This hope is confirmed by the necessary tendencies of
virtue, which, though not of present effect, yet are at present
discernible in nature ; and so afford an instance of some-
what moral in the essential constitution of it. There is, in
the nature of things, a tendency in virtue and vice to pro-
duce the good and bad effects now mentioned, in a greater
degree than they do in fact, produce them. For instance,
good and bad men would be much more rewarded and pun-
ished as such, were it not that justice is often artificially
eluded, that characters are not known, and many who
would thus favor virtue and discourage vice, are hmdered
from doing so by accidental causes. These tendencies of
virtue and vice are obvious with regard to individuals. But
it may require more particularly to be considered, that power
in a society, by being under the direction of virtue, naturally
increases, and" has a necessary tendency to" prevail over op-
posite power, not under the direction of it ; in like manner
as power, by being under the direction of reason, increases,
and has a tendency to prevail over brute force. There are
several brute creatures of equal, and seveial of superior
strength, to that of men ; and possibly the sum of the whole
strength of brutes may be greater than that of mankind :
CHAP. III.] GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 15J
out reason gives us the advantage and superiority over them,
and thus man is the acknowledged governing animal upon
the earth. Nor is this superiority considered by any as
Accidental ; but as what reason has a tendency, in the na-
ture of the thing, to obtain. And yet, perhaps, difficulties
may be raised about the meaning, as well as the truth of
the assertion, that virtue has the like tendency.
To obviate these difficulties, let us see more distinctly
how the case stands with regard to reason, which is so
readily acknowledged to have this advantageous tendency.
Suppose, then, two or three men, of the best and most im-
proved understanding, in a desolate open plain, attacked by
tsn times the number of beasts of prey ; would their reason
secure them the victory in this unequal combat? Power,
then, though joined with reason, and under its direction,
cannot be expected to prevail over opposite power, though
merely brutal, unless the one bears some proportion to the
other. Again, put the imaginary case, that rational and
irrational creatures were of like external shape and man-
ner ; it is certain, before there were opportunities for the first
to distinguish each other, to separate from their adversaries,
and to form a union among themselves, they might be upon
a level, or, in several respects, upon great disadvantage,
though, united, they might be vastly superior ; since union
is of such efficacy, that ten men, united, might be able to
accomplish what ten thousand of the same natural strength
and understanding, wholly ununited, could not. In this
case, then, brute force might more than maintain its ground
against reason, for want of union among the rational crea-
tures. Or suppose a number of men to land upon an island
inhabited only by wild beasts ; a number of men, who, by
the regulations of civil government, the inventions of art,
and the experience of some years, could they be preserved
so long, would be really sufficient to subdue the wild beasts,
and to preserve themselves in security from them ; yet a
conjecture of accidents might give such advantage to the
irrational animals as that they might at once overpower,
and even extirpate, the whole species of rational ones,
Length of time, then, proper scope and opportunities for rea-
son to exert itself, may be absolutely necessary to its pre-
vailing over brute force. Further still ; there are many in-
stances of brutes succeeding in attempts which they could
not have undertaken, had not their irrational nature render-
ed them incapable of forseeing the danger of such attempts,
152 or THE MOIIAL [PART I.
or the fury of passion hindered their attending to it ; and
there are instances of reason, and real prudence preventing
men's undertaking what, it hath appeared afterwards, they
might have succeeded in by a lucky rashness. And in certain
conjunctures, ignorance and folly, weakness and" discord,
muj nave their advantages. So that rational animals have
not necessarily the superiority over irrational ones ; but,
how improbable soever it may be, it is evidently possible,
that, in some globes, the latter may be superior. And were
the former wholly at variance and disunited, by false self-in
terest and envy, by treachery and injustice, and consequent
rage and malice against each other, whilst the latter were
firmly united among themselves by instinct, this might
greatly contribute to the introducing such an inverted order
of things. For every one would consider it as inverted;
since reason has, in the nature of it, a tendency to prevail
over brute force, notwithstanding the possibility it may not
prevail, and the necessity which there is of many concur-
ring circumstances to render it prevalent.
Now, I say, virtue in a society has a like tendency to
procure superiority and additional power, whether this power
be considered as the means of security from opposite power,
or of obtaining other advantages. And it has this tenden-
cy, by rendering public .good an object and end to every
member of the society ; by putting every one upon consi
deration and diligence, recollection and self-government,
both in order to see what is the most effectual method, and
also in order to perform their proper part, for obtaining and
preserving it ; by uniting a society within itself, and so in-
creasing its strength, and, which is particularly to be men-
tioned, uniting it by means of veracity and justice. For as
these last are principal bonds of union, so benevolence, or
public spirit, undirected, unrestrained by them, is nobody
knows what.
And suppose the invisible world, and the invisible dispen-
sations of Providence, to be in any sort analogous to what
appears ; or, that both together make up one uniform
scheme, the two parts of which, the part which we see, and
that which is beyond our observation, are analogous to
each other ; then, there must be a like natural tendency in
*he derived power, throughout the universe, under the direc-
tion of virtue, to prevail in general over that which is not
under its direction ; as there is in reason, derived reason in
the universe, to prevail over brute force. But then, in ordei
HAP. III. GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 153
to the prevalence of virtue, or that it may actually produce
what it has a tendency to produce, the like concurrences
are necessary as are to the prevalence of reason. There
must be some proportion between the natural power or force
which is, and that which is not, under the direction of vir-
tue There must be sufficient length of time ; for the com-
plete success of virtue, as of reason, cannot from the nature
of the thing, be otherwise than gradual : there must be, as
one may speak, a fair field of trial, a stage large and exten-
eive enough, proper occasions and opportunities for the vir-
tuous to join together, to exert themselves against lawless
force, and to reap the fruit of their united labours. Now
indeed it is to be hoped, that the disproportion between the
good and the bad, even here on earth, is not so great, bul
that the former have natural power sufficient to their pre-
vailing to a considerable degree, if circumstances would
permit this power to be united. For, much less, very much
less power, under the direction of virtue, would prevail over
much greater, not under the direction of it. However, good
men over the face of the earth cannot unite ; as for other
reasons, so because they cannot be sufficiently ascertained
of each other's characters. And the known course of hu-
man tilings, the scene we are now passing through, parti-
cularly the shortness of life, denies to virtue its full scope
in several other respects. The natural tendency which
we have been considering, though real, is hindered from be-
ing earned into effect in the present state, but these hindran-
ces may be removed in a future one. Virtue, to borrow the
Christian allusion, is militant here, and various untoward
accidents contribute to its being often overborne ; but it may
combat with greater advantage hereafter, and prevail com-
pletely and enjoy its consequent rewards, in some future
states. Neglected as it is, perhaps unknown, perhaps des-
pised and oppressed here, there may be scenes in eternity,
IKS! ins: enough, and in every other way adapted, to afford it
a sufficient sphere of action, and a sufficient sphere for the
natural consequences of it to follow in fact. If the soul be
naturally immortal, and this state to be a progress towards
a future one, as childhood is towards mature age, good men
may naturally unite, not only amongst themselves, but also
with other orders of virtuous creatures, in that future state.
For virtue, from the very nature of it, is a principal and
bond of union, in seme degree, amongst all who are enduec
wilh it, and known to each other ; so as that by it a
154 OF THE MORAL [PART I.
good man cannot but recommend himself to the favor and
protection of all virtuous beings, throughout the whole uni-
verse, who can be acquainted with his character, and can
any way interpose in his behalf in any part of his duration.
And one might add, that suppose all this advantageous ten-
dency of virtue to become effect amongst one or more orders of
creatures, in any distant scenes and periods, and to be seen
by any orders of vicious creatures, throughout the universal
kingdom of God ; this happy effect of virtue would have a
tendency, by way of example, and possibly in other ways,
to amend those of them who are capable, of amendment,
and being recovered to a just sense of virtue. If our notions
of the plan of Providence were enlarged, in any sort pro-
portionable to what late discoveries have enlarged our views
with respect to the material world, representations of this
kind would not appear absurd or extravagant. However,
they are not to be taken as intended for a literal deline
ation of what is in fact the particular scheme of the uni-
verse, which cannot be known without revelation ; for sup-
positions are not to be looked on as true, because not incre-
dible, but they are mentioned to show, that our finding
virtue to be hindered from procuring to itself such superiority
and advantages, is no objection against its having hi the
essential nature of the thing, a tendency to procure them.
And the suppositions now mentioned do plainly show this ;
for they show, that these hindrances are so far from being
necessary, that we ourselves can easily conceive how they
may be removed in future states, and full scope be granted
to virtue. And all these advantageous tendencies of it are
to be considered as declarations of God in its favor. This,
however, is taking a pretty large compass ; though it is
certain, that as the material world appears to be, in a man-
ner, boundless and immense, there must be some scheme of
Providence vast in proportion to it.
But let us return to the earth, our habitation, and wo
shall see this happy tendency of virtue, by imagining an
instance not so vast and remote ; by supposing a kingdom,
or society of men, upon it, perfectly virtuous, for a succession
of many ages ; to which, if you please, may be given a sit-
uation advantageous to universal monarchy. In such a
state there would be no such thing as faction, but men of
the greatest capacity would, of course, all along, have the
chief direction of affairs willingly yielded to them, and they
would share it among themselves without envy. Each of
3HAP. HI.] GOVERNMENT OF GOD.
these would have the part assigned him to which his gen
1U3 was peculiarly adapted ; and others, who had not any
distinguished genius, would be safe, and think themselves
very happy, by being under the prelection and guidance of
those who had. Public determinations would really be the
result of the united wisdom of the community, and they
woulJ faithfully be executed by the united strength of it.
Some would iu a higher way contribute, but all would in
eorne way contribute lo the public prosperity, and in it eat h
would enjoy the fruits of his own virtue. And as injustice,
whether by fraud or force, would be unknown among them-
selves, so they would be sufficiently secured from it in their
neighbors. For cunning and false self-interest, confedera-
cies in injustice, ever slight and accompanied with faction
and intestine treachery ; these, on one hand, would be found
me'ie childish folly and weakness, when set in opposition
against wisdom, public spirit, union inviolable, and fidelity
on the o:her, allowing boih a sufficient length of years to
try their force. Add the general influence which such a
kingdom would have over the face of the earth, by way of
example particularly, and the reverence which would be
paid it. It would plainly be superior to all others, and the
world must gradually come under its empire ; not by means
of lawless violence, but partly by what must be allowed to
be just conquest, and partly by other kingdoms submitting
themselves voluntarily to it throughout a course of ages,
and claiming its protection, one after another, in successive
exigencies. The head of it would be a universal monarch,
in another sense than any mortal has yet been, and the eas
tern style would be li.eraily applicable to him, that all peo-
ple, nations, and languages should serve him. And though
indeed our knowledge of human nature, and the whole his-
tory of mankind, show the impossibility, without some mi-
raculous interposition, that a number of men here on earth
shall unite in one society or government, in the fear of God
and universal practice of virtue, and that such a govern-
ment should continue so united fora succession of ag^.s;
yet, admitting or supposing this, the effect would be as now
drawn out. And thus, for instance, the wonderful power
and prosperity promised to the Jewish nation in the Scrip-
ture, would be, in a great measure, the consequence of
what is predicateu of them ; that the ' people should be all
righteous and inherit the land forever ;'* were we to under-
* Isa. Jx. 81.
156 OF THE MORAL
stand the latter phrase of a long continuance only, sufficient
to give things time to work. The predictions of this kind,
for there are many of them, cannot come to pass in the
present known course of nature ; but suppose them come
to pass, and then the dominion and pre-eminence promised
must naturally follow, to a very considerable degree.
Consider, now, the general system of religion ; that the
government of the world is uniform, and one, and moral ;
lliat virtue and right shall finally have the advantage, and
prevail over fraud and lawless force, over the deceits as well
as the violence of wickedness, under the conduct of one su-
preme Governor ; and from the observations above made it
will appear, that God has, by our reason, given us to see a
peculiar connexion in the several parts of this scheme, and
a tendency towards the completion of it, arising out of the
very nature of virtue ; which tendency is to be considered
as somewhat moral in the essential constitution of things
If any one should think all this to be of little importance, I
desire him to consider what he would think, if vice had, es-
sentially and in its nature, these advantageous tendencies,
or if virtue had essentially the direct contrary ones.
But it may be objected, that notwithstanding all these
natural effects, and these natural tendencies of virtue, yet
things may be now going on throughout the universe, and
may go on hereafter, in the same mixed way as here at
present upon earth ; virtue sometimes prosperous, some-
times depressed ; vice sometimes punished, sometimes suc-
cessful. The answer to which is, that it is not the purpose
of this chapter, nor of this treatise, properly to prove God's
perfect moral government over the world, or the truth of re-
ligion, but to observe what there is in the constitution and
course of nature to confirm the proper proof of it, supposed
to be known, and that the weight of the foregoing observa-
tions to this purpose may be thus distinctly proved. Pleas-
ure and pain are indeed, to a certain degree, say to a very
high degree, distributed amongst us, without any apparent
regard to the merit or demerit of characters. And were
there nothing else, concerning this matter, discernible in the
constitution and course of nature, there would be no ground,
from the constitution and course of nature, to hope or to
fear, that men would be rewarded or punished hereafter ac-
cording to their deserts ; which, however, it is to be remark-
ed, implies, that even then there would be no ground, from
appearances, to think that vice, upon the whole, would have
CHAP. III.j GOVERNMENT O7 GOD. 15?
the advantage, rather than that virtue would. And thus
the proof of a future slate of retribution would rest upon the
Usual known arguments for it ; which are, I think, plainly
unanswerable, and wouid be so, though there were no addi
tional confirmation of them from the things above insisted
on. But these things are a very strong confirmation of
them : For,
First, they show that the Author of nature is not indiffer
enl to virtue and vice. They amount to a declaration from
him, determinate, and not to be evaded, in favor of one, and
against the other : such a declaration as there is nothing to
be set over against, or answer, on the part of vice. So that
were a man, laying aside the proper proof of religion, to
determine from the course of nature only, whether it were
most probable that the righteous or the wicked would have
the advantage in a future life, there can be no doubt but
that he would determine the probability to be, that the for
mer would. The course of nature, then, in the view of it
now given, furnishes us with a real practical proof of the
obligations of religion.
Secondly, When, conformably to what religion teaches us,
God shall reward and punish virtue and vice, as such, so as
that every one shall, upon the whole, have his deserts, this
distributive justice will not be a thing different in kind, but
only in degree, from what we experience in his present gov-
ernment. It will be that in effect, toward which we now see
a tendency. It will be no more than the completion of that
moral government, the principles and beginning of which
have been shown, beyond all dispute, discernible in the
present constitution and course of nature. And from hence
it follows,
Thirdly, That as, under the natural government of God,
our experience of those kinds and degrees of happiness and
misery, which we do experience at present, gives just ground
to hope for and to fear higher degrees and other kinds of
both in a future state, supposing a future state admitted ; so,
under his moral government, our experience that virtue and
nee are, in the manners above-mentioned, actually reward-
ed and punished at present, in a certain degree, gives just
ground to hope and to fear that .they may be rewarded and
punished in a higher degree hereafter. It is acknowledged,
indeed, that this alone is not sufficient ground to think, that
they actually will be rewarded and punished in a higher de-
gree, rather than in a lower : But then,
14
158 OP THE MORAL [PAttT I.
Lastly , There is sufficient ground to think so, from the
good and bad tendencies of virtue and vice. For these ten-
dencies are essemial, and founded in the nature of things ;
whereas the hindrances, to their becoming effects are, in
numberless cases, not necessary, but artificial only. Now,
it may be much more strongly urged, that these tendencies,
as well as the actual rewards and punishments of virtue and
vice, which arise directly out of the nature of things, will
remain hereafter, than that the accidental "uinderances of
them will. And if these hinderances do not remain, those
rewards and punishments cannot but be carried on much
further towards the perfection of moral government, i. e. the
tendency of virtue and vice will become effect ; but when,
pr where, or in what particular way, cannot be known at
all but by revelation.
Upon the whole, there is a kind of moral government im-
plied in God's natural government ;* virtue and vice are
naturally rewarded and punished as beneficial and mis-
chievous to society,! and rewarded and punished directly as
virtue and vice.J The notion, then, of a moral scheme of
government, is not fictitious, but natural ; for it is suggested
to our thoughts by the constitution and course of nature,
and the execution of this scheme is actually begun, in the
instances here mentioned. And these things are to be con-
sidered as a declaration of the Author of nature, for virtue,
and against vice ; they give a credibili y to the supposition
of their being rewarded and punished hereafter, and also
ground to hope and to fear, that they may be rewarded and
punished in higher degrees than they are here. And as all
this is confirmed, so the argument for religion, from the con-
stitution and course of nature, is carried on farther, by observ-
ing, that there are natural tendencies, and, in innumerable
cases, only artificial hindrances, to this moral scheme being
carried on much farther towards perfection than it is at pre-
sent. The notion, then, of a moral scheme of govern-
ment, much more perfect than what is seen, is not a ficti-
tious, but a natural notion, for it is suggested to our thoughts
by Jie essential tendencies of virtue and vice. And these
tendencies are to be considered as intimations, as implicit
promises and threatenings, from the Author of nature, of
much greater rewards and punishments to follow virtue and
* Page 101. t Page 102. t Page 103, &c.
f Page 109, &c.
CHAP. III.] GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 15')
vice, than do at present. And, indeed, every natural ten-
dency, which is to continue, but which is hindered from be-
coming effect by only accidental causes, aflbrds a pres.un.p-
tion, that such tendency will, some time or other, become
effect : a presumption in degree proportionable to the length
of the duration through which such tendency will conlinue.
An-:', from these things together arises a real presumption,
tha: ihc moral scheme of government established in nature,
shah be carried on much farther towards perfection here-
after, and, I think, a presumption that it. will be absolutely
completed. But from these things, joined with the moral
nature which God has given us, considered as given us by
hiir, arises a practical proof* that it will be completed ; u
proo'frjm fact, and therefore a distinct one from that which
is dtduced from the eternal and unalterable relations, the
fhness and unntness of actions.
* See this proof drawn out briefly, chap. 6.
CHAPTER IV.
Of a Stale of Probation, as implying Trial, Difficulties, and
Danger.
THE general doctrine of religion, that our present tife u
a state of probation for a future one, comprehends undei
it several particular things, distinct from each other. Bui
the first and most common meaning of it seems to be, that
our future interest is nog,v depending, and depending upon
ourselves ; that we have scope and opportunities here foi
that good and bad behaviour, which God will reward and
punish hereafter ; together with temptations to one, as well
as inducements of reason to the other. And this is, in great,
measure, the same with saj'ing, that we are under the
moral government of God, and to give an account of our
actions to him. For the notion of a future account, and
general righteous judgment, implies some sort of tempta-
tions to what is wrong, otherwise there would be no moral
possibility of doing wrong, nor ground for judgment or dis-
crimination. But there is this difference, that the word pro*
ballon is more distinctly and particularly expressive of allure-
ments to wrong, or difficulties in adhering uniformly to what
is right, and of the danger of miscarrying by such tempta-
tions, than the words moral government. A state of proba-
tion, then, as thus particularly implying in it trial, difficulties,
and danger, may require to be considered distinctly by itself.
And as the moral government of God, which religion
teaches us, implies, that we are in a state of trial with regard
to a future world ; so also his natural government over us
implies, that we are in a state of trial, in a like sense, with
regard to the present, world. Natural government, by re-
wards and punishments, as much implies natural trial, as
moral government does moral trial. The natural govern-
CHAP. IV.] OF A. STATE OF TRIAL. 161
ment of God here meant,* consists in his annexing pleasure
to some actions, and pain to oihers, which are in our power
to do or forbear, and in giving u=- notice of such appoint-
ment beforehand. This necessarily implies, that he has
made our happiness and misery, or our interest, to depend
in part upon ourselves. And so far as men have tempta-
tions to any course of action, \vhich will probably occasion
them greater temporal inconvenience and uneasiness than
satisfaction, so far their temporal interest is in danger from
theinsdves, or they are in a state of trial with respect to it.
No\v;, people often blame others, arid even themselves, for
their misconduct in their temporal concerns. And we rind
many are greatly wanting to themselves, and miss of that
natural happiness which they might have obtained in the
present life ; perhaps every one does in some degree. But
many run themselves into great inconvenience, and into ex-
treme distress and misery, not through incapacity of know-
ing better, and doing better for themselves, which would be
nothing to the present purpose, but. through their own fault.
And these things necessarily imply^fcemptation, and danger
of miscarrying, in a greater or less degree, with respect to
our worldly interest or happiness. Every one, loo, without
having religion in his thoughts, speaks of the hazards which
young people run upon their setting out in the world ; haz-
ards from other causes, lhan merely their ignorance, and
unavoidable accidents. And some courses of vice, at least,
being contrary to men's worldly interest or good, temptations
to these must at the same time be temptations to forego our
present and our future interest. Thus, in our natural rr
temporal capacity, we are in a state of trial, i. e. of difficulty
and danger, analogous or like to our moral and religious
trial.
This will more distinctly gppear to any one, who thinks
it worth while, more distinctly, to consider what it is which
constitutes our trial in both capacities, and to observe how
mankind behave under it.
And ihat which constitutes this our trial, in both these
capacities, must be somewhat either in our external circum-
stances, or in our nature. For, on the one hand, persons
may be betrayed into wrong behaviour upon surprise, or
overcome upon any other very singular and extraordinary
* Chap. 2,
14
162 OP A STATE OF TRIAL. [PART I.
external occasions, who would, otherwise, have preserved
their character of prudence and of virtue ; in which cases,
every one, in speaking of the wrong behaviour of these per-
sons, would impute it to such particular external circum-
stances. And, on the other hand, rnen who have contracted
habits of vice and folly of any kind, or have some particu-
lar passions in excess, will seek opportunities, and, as it
v-;e, go out of their way, to gratify themselves in these
respects, at the expense of their wisdom and their virtue ;
led to it, as every one would say, not by external tempta-
tions, but by such habits and passions. And the account
of this last case is, that particular passions are no more co-
incident with prudence, or that reasonable self-love, the end
of which is our worldly Interest, than they are with the prin-
cipie of virtue and religion, but often draw contrary ways
to one as well as to the other ; and so such particular pas
sions are as much temptations to act imprudently with re
gard to oui worldly interest, as to act viciously.* However,
as when wt say, men are misled by eternal circumstances of
temptation, it cannot btA be understood, that there is some
what within themselves, to render those circumstances
temptations, or to render them susceptible of impressions
from them ; so, when we say, they are misled by passions,
it is always supposed, that there are occasions, circum-
stances, and objects, exciting these passions, and affording
means for gratifying them. And, therefore, temptations
from within, and from without, coincide, and mutually imply
each other. Now, the several external objects of the appe-
tites, passions, and affections, being present to the senses, or
offering themselves to the mind, and so exciting emotions
suitable to their nature, not only in cases where they can
be gratified consistently with innocence and piudence, but-
also in cases where they cannot, and yet can be gratifi-
ed imprudently and viciously ; this as really puts them in
danger of voluntarily foregoing their present interest or
good, as their future, and as really renders self-denial neces-
sary to secure one as the other ; i. e. we are in a like state
of tiial with respect to both, by the very same passions, ox-
cued by the very same means. Thus, mankind having a
temporal interest depending upon themselves, and a prudent
course of behaviour being necessary to secure it, passions
* See Sermons preached at the Rolls, 1726, 2d Ed. 20f>, &C. Pief. p
25, &c. Semi. p. 521. &.c.
CHAP. IV j OF A STATE OF TRIAL. Jgg
inordinately excited, whether by means of example or by
any o her external circumstance, towards such objects, at
such tuno-, or in such degrees, as that they cannot be grati-
fied consistently wish worldly prudence, are temptations
dangerous, and too often successful temptations, to forego a
greater temporal good for a less ; z. e. to forego what is, .^lon
the whole, our temporal interest, for the sake of ^ present
gratification. This is a description of our state of nul in
our temporal capacity. Substitute now the word future h.i
temporal, and virtue for prudence, and it will be just as proper
a description of our state of trial in ouf religious capacity ,
so analogous are they to each other.
If, fro.n consideration of this our like state of trial in both
capacities, we go on to observe farther, how mankind be-
have under it, we shall find there are some who have so
little sense of it, that they scarce look beyond the passing
day ; th^y are so taken up with present gratifications, as to
have, in a manner, no feeling of consequences, no regard to
their future ease or fortune in this life, any more than to their
happiness in another. Some app=.ar to bo blinded and de-
ceived by inordinate passion, in their worldly concerns, as
much as in religion. Others are, not deceived, but, as it
were, forcibly carried away r by the like passions, against
their better judgment, and feeble resolutions, too, of acting
better. And there are men. and tru'.y they are not a few,
who shamelessly avow, not their interests, but their mere
will and pleasure, to be their law of life ; and u ho. in open
defiance of every thing that is reasonable, will go on in a
course of vicious extravagance, foreseeing, with no remorse
and little fear, that it will be their temporal ruin ; and some
of them, under the apprehension of the consequences of
wickedness in another stale : and, to speak in the most
moderate waj r , human creatures are not only continually lia-
ble to go wrong voluntarily, but we see likewise that they
often actually do so, with respect to their temporal interests,
as. well as with respect to religion.
Thus, our difficulties and dangers, or our trials in our
temporal and our religious capacity, as they proceed from
the same causes, and have the same effect upon men's
behaviour, are evidently analogous, and of the same kind.
It may be added, that as the difficulties and dangers of
miscarrying in our religious state of trial are greatly in-
creased, and, one is ready to think, in a manner wholly
made, by the ill-behaviour of others ; by a wrong education,
164 OP A STATE OF TRIAL. [PART 1.
wrong in a moral sense, sometimes positively vicious ; by
general bad example ; by the dishonest artifices which are
got into business of all kinds ; and, in very many parts of
the world, by religion being corrupted into superstitions
which indulge men in their vices ; so, in like manner, the
difficulties of conducting ourselves prudently in respect 10
our present interests, and our danger of being led aside from
pursuing it, are greatly increased by a foolish education, and,
after we come to mature age, by the extravagance and
carelessness of others, whom we have intercourse wiih;
and by mistaken notions, very generally prevalent, and ta-
ken up from common opinion, concerning temporal happi-
ness, and wherein it consists. And persons, by their own
negligence and folly in their temporal affairs, no less than
by a course of vice, bring themselves into new difficulties,
and, by habits of indulgence, become less qualified to go
through them ; and one irregularity after another embar-
rasses things to such a degree, that they know not where-
about they are, and often makes the path of conduct so in-
tricate and perplexed, that it is difficult to trace it out ; diffi-
cult even to determine what is the prudenr or the moral part.
Thus, for instance, wrong behaviour in one stage of life,
youth; wrong, I mean, considering ourselves only in oui
temporal capacity, wiihout taking in religion ; this, in sev-
eral ways, increases the difficulties of right behaviour in
mature age ; i. e. puts us into a more disadvantageous slate
of trial in our temporal capacity.
We are an inferior part cf the creation of God. There
are natural appearances of our being in a state of degra-
dation ;* and we ceriainly are in a condition which does
not seem, by any means, the most advantageous we could
imagine or desire, either in our natural or moral capacity, for
securing either our present or future interest. However,
this condition, low, and careful, and uncertain as it is, does
not afford any just ground of complaint : For, as men may
manage their temporal affairs with prudence, and so pass
their days here on earth in tolerable ease and satisfaction, by
a moderate decree of care ; so, likewise, with regard to roli-
gion, there is no more required than what they are A* ^11 able
to do, and what they must be greatly wanting to themselves
if they neglect. And for persons to have that put upon
them which they are well able to go through, and no more,
* Part 2, Chap, ft.
CHAP. IV.] OF A STATE OF TRIAL. 165
*.ve naturally consider as an equitable thing, supposing it
done by proper authority. Nor have we any more reason to
complain of it, with regard to the Author of nature, than
of hi* not having given us other advantages, belonging to
other orders of creatures.
But the thing here insisted upon is, that the state of trial
which religion teaches us we are in, is rendered credi-
ble, by its being throughout uniform and of a pi ce
with ihe general conduct of Providence towards us, in
ell oiher respects within the compass of our knowledge.
Indeed, if mankind, considered in iheir natinal caputi'y
as inhabitants of '.his world only, found themselves, fiom
their binh lo their death in a settled state of security
and happiness, wiihout any solicitude "or thought of
'.heir own ; or, if they were in no danger of being brought
into inconveniences and distress by carelessness, or the foliy
of passion, through bad exao:ple, the treachery of o'.hers,
or the tleceiiful appearances of ihings ; were this our natur-
al condition, then it might seem stronge, and be some pre-
sumpiion against the truth of religion, lhat it represents our
future and more general interest, as not secure of course,
but as depending upon our behaviour and requiring recollec-
tion and self-government 10 obtain it. For it might be al-
leged, ' What you say is our condition in one respect, is not
in any wise of a sort with what we find, by experience, our
condition is in anotner. Our whole present interest is secur-
ed to our hands, without any soliciiudt; of ours, ai.d why
should not our future interest, if we have any such, be so
too T But since, on the contrary, thought and considera-
tion, the voluntary denying ourselves many ihings which
we desire, and a course of behaviour far from beir.g always
agreeable to us, are absolutely necessary to our acting even
a common dtceui, and common prudent part, so as to pass
with any satisfaciion ihrough the present world, and be re-
ceived upon any tolerable good terms in it ; since this is 'he
case, all presumption against self-denial and attention being
necessary to secure our highest interest, is removed. Had
we not experience, it might, perhaps, speciously be urged,
that it is improbable any thing of hazard and danger should
be put. upon us by an infinite Being, when every thing
which is hazard and danger in our manner of conception,
and will end in error, confusion, and misery, is now already
certain in his foreknowledge. And, indeed, why any thlncr
of hazard and danger should be put upon such frail creatures
1C6 OP A STATE OF TRIAL. [PART I.
as we are, may well be thought a difficulty in specula' ion ;
and cannot but be so, till we know the whole, or, however,
much more of the case, But still the constitution of nature
is as it is. Our happiness and misery are trusted to our
conduct, and made to depend upon it. Somewhat, and, in
many circumstances, a great deal too, is put upon us, either to
1o, or to suffer, as we choose. And all the various miseries
of life, which people bring upon themselves by negligence
and folly, and. might have avoided by proper care, are in-
stances of this ; which miseries are, beforehand, just as con-
tingent and undetermined as their conduct, and left to be
determined by it.
These observations are an answer to the objectiorva
against the credibility of a state of trial, as implying temp-
tations, and real danger of miscarrying with regard to our
general interest, under the moral government of God ; and
they show, that, if we are at all to be considered in such a
capacity, and as having such an interest, the general analo-
gy of Providence must lead us to apprehend ourselves in
danger of miscarrying, in different degrees, as to this inter-
est, by our neglecting to act the proper part belonging to us
in that, capacity. For we have a present interest, under
the government of God which we experience here upon
earth. And this interest, as it is not forced upon us, so nei-
ther is.it offered to our acceptance, but to our acquisition ;
in suclj .sort, as that we are in danger of missing it, by
means of temptations to neglect or act contrary to it ; and
without attention and self-denial, must and do miss of it. It
: s then perfectly credible, that this may be our case with
respect to that chief and final good which religion proposes
to us.
CHAP. V.] MORAL DISCIPLINE. K 7
CHAPTER V.
Of a State of Probation, as intended for Moral Discipline and
Improvement.
FROM the consideration of our being in a probation-state,
of so much difficulty and hazard, naturally arises the ques-
tion, how we came to be placed in it ? But such a general
inquiry as this would be found involved in insuperable diffi-
culties. For, though some of these difficulties would be
lessened by observing, that all wickedness, is voluntary, as
is implied in its very notion, and that many of the miseries of
life have apparent good effects, yet when we consider other
circumstances belonging to both, and what must be the con-
sequence of the former in a life to come, it can^^but be
acknowledged plain folly and presumption, to p^pnd to
give an account of the whole reasons of this matter" 1 ; the
whole reasons of our being alloted a condition, out of which
so much wickedness and misery, so circumstanced, would
in feet arise. Whether it be not beyond our faculties,
not only to find out, but even to understand, the whole ac-
count of this ; or, though we should be supposed capable f
understanding it, yet, whether it would be of service or pre-
judice to us to be informed of it, is impossible to say. But
as our present condition can in no wise be shown inconsis-
tent with the perfect moral government of God ; so reli-
gion teaches us we are placed in it, that we might qualify
ourselves, by the practice of virtue, for another state, which
is to follow it. And this, though but a partial answer, a
very partial one indeed, to the inquiry now mentioned, yet
is a more satisfactory answer to another, which is of real,
and of the utmost importance to us to have answered the
inquiry, What is our business here 1 The known end, then,
why we are placed in a slate of so much affliction, hazard,
A STATE OF [PART I.
and difficulty, is, our improvement in virtue and piety, aa
the requisite qualification for a future state of security and
happiness.
Now, the beginning of life, considered as an education for
mature age in the present world, appears plainly, at first
sight, analogous to this our tnal for a future one ; the for-
mer being, in our temporal capacity, what the latter is in
our religious capacity. But some observations common to
both of them, and a more distinct consideration of each, will
more distinctly show the extent and force of the analogy be-
tween them ; and the credibility, \v^hich arises from hence,
as well as from the nature of the thing, that the present
life was intended to be a state of discipline for a future one.
I Every species of creature is, we see, designed for a
particular way of life, to which the nature, the capacities,
temper, and qualifications of each species, are as necessary
as their external circumstances. Both come into the no-
tion of such state, or particular way of life, and are constmi
enl parts of it. Change a man's capacities or character to
the degree in which it is conceivable they may be changed,
and he would be altogether incapable of a human course of
life and human happiness; as incapable, as if, his nature con-
tinuing unchanged, he were placed in a world where he
had no sphere of action, nor any objects to answer his appe-
tites, passions, and affections of any sort. One thing is set
over against another, as an ancient writer expresses it. Our
nature corresponds to our external condition. Without this
correspondence, there would be no possibility of any such
thing as human life and human happiness ; which life and
happiness are, therefore, a result from our nature and condi-
tion jointly ; meaning by human life, not living in the liter-
al sense, but the whole complex notion commonly under-
stood by those words. So that, without determining what
will be the employment and happiness, the particular
life of good men hereafter, there must be some determinate
capacities, some necessary character and qualifications,
without which persons cannot but be utterly incapable of it ;
in like manner as there must be some, without which men
would be incapable of their present state of life. Now,
II. The constitution of human creatures, and indeed of
ah 1 creatures which come under our notice, is such, as that
they are capable of naturally becoming qualified for stales
of life, for which they were once wholly unqualified. In
imagination we may indeed conceive of creatures, as inca-
CHAP. V.] MORAL DISCIPLINE. 169
pable of having any of their faculties naturally enlarged, or
as being unable naturally to acquire any new qualifications ;
but the faculties of every species known to us are made for
enlargement, for acquirements of experience and habits.
We find ourselves, in particular, endued with capacities, not
only of perceiving ideas, and of knowledge or perceiving
truth, but also of storing up our ideas and knowledge by
memory. We are capable, not only of acting, and of hav-
ing different momentary impressions made upon us, but of
getting a new facility in any kind of action, and of settled
alterations in our temper or character. The power of the
two last is the power of habits. But neither the perception
of ideas, nor knowledge of any sort, are habits, though ab-
solutely necessary to the forming of them. However, ap-
prehension, reason, memory, which are the capacities of
acquiring knowledge, are greatly improved by exercise.
Whether the word habit is applicable to all these improve-
ments, and, in particular, how far the powers of memory and
of habits may be powers of the same nature, I shall not in-
quire. But that perceptions come into our minds readily
and of course, by means of their having been there before,
seems a thing of the same sort, as readiness in any particu-
lar kind of action, proceeding from being accustomed to it.
And aptness to recollect practical observations of service in
our conduct, is plainh r habit in many cases. There are
habits of perception and habits of action. An instance
of the former, is our constant and even involuntary readi-
ness in correcting the impressions of our sight concerning
magnitudes and distances, so as to substitute judgment in
the room of sensation, imperceptibly to ourselves. And it
seems as if all other associations of ideas, not naturally con-
nected, might be called passive habits, as properly as our
readiness in understanding languages upon sight, or hearing
of words. And our readiness in speaking and writing them
ia an instance of the latter, of active habits. For distinct-
ness, we may consider habits as belonging to the body,
or the mind, and the latter will be explained by the former.
Under the former are comprehended all bodily activities or
motions, whether graceful or unbecoming, which are owing
to use ; under the latter, general habits of life and conduct,
such as those of obedience and submission to authority, or
to any particular person ; those of veracity, justice, and
charity ; those of attention, industry, self-government, envy,
revenge. And habits of this latter kind seem produced by
15
(70 OF A STATE OF [PARI L
repeated acts, as well as the former.. And in like manner,
as habits belonging to the body are produced by external
acts, so habits of the mind are produced by the exertions of
inward practical principles ; a. e. by carrying them into act,
y: acting upon them, the principles of obedience, of veraci-
ty, justice, and charity. Nor can those habits be formed by
any external course of action, otherwise than as it proceeds
from these principles j because it is only these inward princi-
ples exerted, which are strictly acts of obedience, of veracity,
of justice, and of charity. So, likewise, habits of attention, in-
dustry, self-government, are, in the same manner, acquired
by exercise ; and habits of envy .and revenge by indulgence,
whether in outward act or ia thought and intention a. c. in-
ward act ; for such intention is an act. Resolutions to
do well are properly acts ; aad endeavouring to enforce
upon our own minds a practical sense of virtue, or to beget in
others that practical sense of it which a man really has
himself, is a virtuous aet. All these, therefore, may and will
contribute towards forming good habits. But, going over
the theory of virtue in one's thoughts, talking well, and draw-
ing fine pictures of it, this is so far from necessarily or cer-
tainly conducing to form a habit of it in him who thus em-
ploys himself, that it may harden the mind in a contrary
course, and render it gradually vr.ore insensible, i. e. form
a habit of insensibility to all moral considerations. For,
from our very faculty of habits, passive impressions, by being
repeated, grow weaker. Thoughts, by often passing through
the mind, are felt less sensibly ; being accustomed to danger,
begets intrepidity, i. e. lessens fear ; to . distress, lessens the
passion of pity ; to instances of others' mortality, lessens
the sensible apprehension of our own. And from these two
observations together, that practical habits are formed and
strengthened by repeated acts, and that passive impressions
grow weaker by being repeated upon us, it must follow,
that active habits may be gradually forming and strength-
ening, by a course of acting upon such and such motives
and excitements, whilst these motives and excitements,
themselves are, by proportionable degree's, growing less sen-
gible ; i. e. are continually less and less sensibly felt, even
as the active habits strengthen. And experience confirms
this ; for active principles, at the very time that they are
less lively in perception than they were, are found to be
gome how wrought more thoroughly into the temper and
character, and become more effectual in influencing oiu
CHAP. V.] MORAL DISCIPLINE. 4 171
practice. The three things just mentioned may afford in-
stances of it. Perception of dancer is a natural excitement
of passive fear, and active caution ; and, by being inured to
danger, habits of ihe latter are gradually wrought, at the
same time that the former gradually lessens. Perception
of distress in others is a natural excitement, passively to
pity, and actively to relieve it ; but let a man set himself to
attend to, inquire out, and relieve distressed persons, and he
cannot but grow less and less sensibly affected with the va
rious miseries of life, with which he must become acquain-
ted ; when yet, at the same time, benevolence, considered
not as a passion, but as a practical principal of action, will
strengthen; and, whilst he passively compassionates the
distressed less, he will acquire a greater aptitude actively to
assist and befriend them. So also at the same time that the
daily instances of men's dying around us give us daily a
less sensible passive feeling or apprehension of our own
mortality, such instances greatly contribute to the strength-
ening a practical regard to it in serious men ; i. e. to forming
a habit of acting wiih a constant view to it. And this
seems again further to show, that passive impressions made
upon our minds by admonition, experience, example, though
they may have a remote efficacy, and a very great one, to-
wards forming active habits, yet can have this efficacy no
otherwise than by inducing us to such a course of action ;
and that it is, not being affected so and so, but acting, which
forms those habits ; only it must be always remembered,
that real endeavours to enforce good impressions upon our-
selves, are a species of virtuous action. IS'or do we know
how far it is possible, in the nature of things, that effects
should be wrought in us at once equivalent to habits, i. e.
what is wrought by use and exercise. However, ththing
insisted upon is, not what may be possible, but what is in fact
the appointment, of nature, which is, that active habits are
to be formed by oxercise. Their progress may be so gradu-
al as to be imperceptible of its steps ; it may be hard to ex-
plain the faculty by which we are capable of habits, through-
out its several parts, and to trace it up to its original, so as
to distinguish it from all others in our mind ; and it seems as
if contrary effects were to be ascribed to it. But the thing
in general, that our nature is formed to yield, in some such
manner as this, to use and exercise, is matter of certain ex-
perience.
Thus, by accustoming ourselves to any course of action
1753 * OP A STATE OF [PART I,
we get an aptness to go on, a facility, readiness, and oiler,
pleasure in it. The inclinations which rendered us averse
to it grow weaker ; the difficulties in it, not only the im-
aginary, but the real ones, lessen ; the reasons for it offer
themselves of course to our thoughts upon all occasions ;
and the least glimpse of them is sufficient to make tis 2:0
on in a course of action to which we have been accustomed.
And practical principles appear to grow stronger absolutely
in themselves, by exercise, as well as relatively, with regard
to contrary principles ; which, by being accustomed to sub-
mit, do so habitually, and of course. And thus a new cha-
racter, in several respects, may be formed ; and man}' habi-
tudes of life, not given by nature, but which nature directs
us to acquire.
III. Indeed we may be assured, that we should never have
had these capacities of improving by experience, acquired
knowledge and habits, had they not been necessary, and in-
tended to be made use of And, accordingly, we find them
so necessary, and so much intended, that without them we
should be utterly incapable of that which was the end, for
which we were made, considered in our temporal capacity
only j the employments and satisfactions of our mature
state of life.
iN at lire does in no wise qualify us whoBy, much less at
once, for this-mature stnte of life. Even maturity of under-
standing and bodily strength are not only arrived to gradu-
ally, but are aLj very much owing to the continued exer-
cise of our powers of body and mind from infancy. But if
we .suppose a person brought into ihe world wiih both these
in maturity, as far as this is conceivable, -he would plainly
at first be as unqualified for the human life of mature age^jas
an idunt' He would be in a manner distracted with astP
ishment, and apprehension, and curiosity, and suspense ;
t.or can one <?ue?s how long it woHld be before he would be
familiarized to himself, and the objects about him, enough
aven to set himself to any thing. It may be questioned
too, whether the natural information of his sight and hear-
ing would be of any manner of use at all to him in acting,
before experience. And it seems that men would be strange-
ly headstrong and self-willed, and disposed to exert Inem-
so.'ves with an impetuosity which would render society in-
supportable, and the living in it impracticable, were it not
for some acquirer! moderation and self-government, some
aptitude and readiness in restraining themselves, and cou-
CHAP. V.] MORAL DISCIPLINE. 173
cealing their sense of things. Want of every thing of this
kind which is learned, would render a man as incapable of
society as want of language would ; or as his natural
ignorance of any of the particular employments of life, we aid
render him incapable of providing himself with the com-
mon conveniences or supplying the necessary wants of it.
In these respects, and probably in many more, of which we
have no particular notion, mankind is left by nature an un-
formed, unfinished creature, utterly deficient and unqualified,
before the acquirement of knowledge, expenence, and
habits, for that mature state of life, which was the end of
his creation, considering him as related only to this world
But (hen, as nature has endued us with a power of sup-
plying those deficiencies, by acquired knowledge, experi-
ence, and habits ; so, likewise, we are placed in a condition,
in infancy, childhood, and youth, fitted for it ; fined for our
acquiring those qualifications of all sorts, which we stand
in need of in mature age. Hence children, from their very
birth, are daily growing acquainted with the objects about
tliuu, \viih the scene in which they are placed, and to have
a future part ; and learning somewhat or other, necessary
to the performance of it. The subordinations, to which
they are accustomed in domestic life, teach them self-gov-
ernment in common behaviour abroad, and prepare them for
subjection and obedience to civil authority. What passes
before their eyes, and daily happens to them, gives them ex-
perience, caution against treachery and deceit, together with
numberless little rules of action and conduct, which we could
not live without, and which are learned so insensibly and so
perfectly, as to be mistaken perhaps for instinct ; though they
are the effect of long experience and exercise : as much so as
language, or knowledge in particular business, or the qualifi-
cations-and behaviour belonging to the several ranks and pro-
fessions. Thus, the beginning of our days is adapted to be,
ami is, a state of education in the theory and practice of
mature life. We are much assisted in it by example, in-
struction, and the care of others ; but a great deal is left to
ourselves to do. And of this, as part is done easily and of
course, so part requires diligence and care, the voluntary
foregoing many things which we desire, and setting our-
selves to what we should have no inclination to, but for the
necessity or expedience of it. For that labor and industry
which the station of so manj' absolutely requires, they would
be grea'ly unqualified for in maturity, as those in other sta-
J5*
174 OF A STATE OP [PART
tions would be for any oiher sorts of application, if both wer
not accustomed to them in their youth. And according as
persons behave themselves, in the general education which
all go through, and in the particular ones adapted to parti-
cular employments, their character is formed, and made ap-
pear ; they recommend themselves more or less ; and are
capable of, and placed in, different stations in the society of
tumkiiid. ; ;
The former part of life, then, is to be considered as an im-
portant opportunity, which nature puts into our hand?, and
which, when lost, is not to be recovered. And our being
placed in a state of discipline throughout this life, for another
world, is a providential disposition of things, exactly of ihe
same kind as our being placed in a state of discipline during
childhood, for mature age. Our condition in boih respects
is uniform and of a piece, and comprehended under one and
the same general law of nature.
And if we are not able at all to discern, how or in what
way the present life could be our preparation for another,
this would be uo objection against the credibility of its being
so. For we do not discern how food and sleep contribute
to the growth of the body, nor could have any thought that
they would, before we had experience. Nor do children at
all think, on the one hand, that the sports and exercises, to
which they are so much addicted, contribute to their health
and growth ; nor, on the other, of the necessity which theic
is for their being restrained in them ; nor are they capable
of understanding the use of many parts of discipline, which
nevertheless they must be made to go through, in order to
qualify them for the business of mature age. Were we not
able, then, to discovei in what respect the present life could
form us for a future one, yet nothing would be more sup-
posible than that it might, in some respects or other, from the
general analogy of Providence. And this, for aught 1 see,
might reasonably be said, even though we should not take
in the consideration of God's moral government over the
world. But,
IV. Take in this consideration, and consequently, that
the character of virtue and piety is a necessary qualification
for the future state, and then we may distinctly see how,
and in what respects, the present life may be a preparation for
it ; since wo want, and arc capable of improvement in that char-
acter, by moral and religious habits ; and the present life is fil
to be a state of discipline for such improvement ; in like manner.
CHAP. V.'j MORAL DISCIPLINE. 175
as we have already observed, how, and in what respects,
infancy, childhood, and youth, are a necessary preparation,
and a natural state of discipline, for mature age.
Nothing which we at present see would lead us to the
thought of a solitary inactive state hereafter, but, if we judge
at all from the analogy of nature, we must suppose, accord-
ing to the Scripture account of r, that it will be a communi-
ty. And there is no shadow of any thing unreasonable in
conceiving, though there be no analogy for it, that this com-
munity will be, as the Scripture represents it, under the
more immediate, or, if su^ h an expression may be used, the
more sensible government of God. Nor is our ignorance,
what will be the emploj'ments of this happy community,
nor our consequent ignorance, what particular scope or oc-
casion there will be for the exercise of veracity, justice, and
charity, amongst the members of it with regard to each
other, any proof that there will be no sphere of exercise for
those virtues. Much less, if that were possible, is our igno-
rance any proof that there will be no occasion for that frame
of mind, or character, which is formed by the daily practice
of those particular virtues here, and which is a result from
it. This at least must be owned in general, that as the go-
vernment established in the universe is moral, the character
of virtue and piety must, in some way or other, be the con-
dition of our happiness, or the qualification for it.
Now, from what is above observed concerning our natu-
ral power of habits, it is easy to see, that we are capable of
moral improvement by discipline. And how greatly we
want it, need not be proved to any one who is acquainted
with the great wickedness of mankind, or even with those
imperfections which the best are conscious of. But it is not
perhaps distinctly attended to by every one, that the occa-
sions which human creatures have for discipline, to improve
in them this character of virtue and piety, is to be traced up
higher than to excess in the passions, by indulgence and
.habits of vice. Mankind, and perhaps all finite creatures,
from the very constitution of their nature, before habits of
virtue, are deficient, and in danger of deviating from what is
right, and therefore stand in need of virtuous habits for a se-
curity against this danger. For, together with the general
principal of moral understanding, we have in our inward
frame various affections towards particular external objects.
These affections are naturally, and of right, subject to the
government of the moral princiole, as to the occasions upon
176 OF A STATE OF [FART 1.
which they may be gratified, as to the times, degrees, and
manner, in which the objects of them may be pursued ; but
then the principle of virtue can neither excite them, nor pre-
vent their being excited. On the contrary, they are natu-
rally felt, when the objects of them are present to the mind,
not only before all consideration whether they can be ob-
tained by lawful means, but after it is found they cannot.
For the natural objects of affection continue so ; the neces-
saries, conveniences, and pleasures of life, remain naturally
desirable, though they cannot be obtained innocently ; nay,
though they cannot possibly be obtained at all. And when
the objects of any affection whatever cannot be obtained
without unlawful means, but may be obtained by them, such
affection, though its being excited, and its continuing some
time in the mind, be as innocent as it is natural and necessa-
ry, yet cannot but be conceived to have a tendency to in-
cline persons to venture upon such unlawful means, and
therefore must be conceived as putting them in some danger
of it. Now, what is the general security against this dan-
ger, against their actually deviating from right ? as the
danger is, so also must the security be, from within, from the
practical principle of virtue.* And the strengthening or
improving this principle, considered as practical, or as a
principle of action, will lessen the danger or increase the se-
curity against it. And this moral principle is capable of
improvement, by proper discipline and exercise ; by recol-
lecting the practical impressions which example and expe-
rience have made upon us ; and, instead of following humor
and mere in^ination, by continually attending to the equity
and right of the case, in whatever we are engaged, be it in
* It may be thought that a sense of interest would as effectually restrain
creatures from doing wrong. But if hy a sensz of interest is nwant, a
speculative conviction or belief that such and suc'i indulgence would occa-
sion them greater uneasiness, upon the whole, than satisfaction, it is con-
trary to present experience to say. that this sense of interest is sufficient to
restrain them from thus indulging themselves. And if by a sense qf in-
terest is meant, a practical regard to what is upon the whole our happi-
ness, this is not only coincident with the principle of virtue or moral recti-
tude, but is a part of the idea itselll And it is evident this reasonable self-
love wants to be improved-, as really as any principle in our nature. For
we daily see it cvermatchvd, not only by the more boisterous passions, but
by curiosity, shame, love of imitation, by any thing, even indolence : espe-
cially if the interest, the temporal interest, suppose, which is the end of
such self-love, be at a distance. So greatly are profligate men mistaken,
when they affirm they are wholly governed by interesteducss and self-love :
And so little cause is there for moralists to disclaim this principle. See
4 .-. 123, 124.
CHAP. V.] MORAL DISCIPLINE. J^y
greater or less matters, and accustoming ourselves ahvavg
to act upon it, as being itself the just and natural motive of
action ; and as this moral course of behaviour must neces-
sarily, under divine government, be our final interest. Thus
the principle of virtue, improved into a habit, of which improve-
ment we are thus capable, will plainly be, in proportion to the
strength of it, a security against the danger which, finite crea-
tures are in, from the very nature of propension, or particular
affections. This wa} r of putting the matter supposes parti-
cular affections to remain in a future state, which it is scarce
possible to avoid supposing. And if they do, \ve clearly
soe, that acquired habits of virtue and self-government may
be necessary for the regulation of them. However, though
we were not distinctly to lake in this supposition, but to
speak only in general, the thing really comes to the same.
For habits of virtue, thus acquired by discipline, are improve-
ment in virtue ; and improvement in virtue must be advance-
ment in happiness, if the government of the universe be moral.
From these things we may observe, and it will farther
show this our natural and original need of being improved
by discipline, how it comes to pass, that creatures, made up-
right, fall ; and that those who preserve their uprightness,
by so doing, raise themselves to a more secure state of vir-
tue. To s;vy that the former is accounted for by the nature
of liberty, is to say no more than that an event's actually
happening i? accounted for by a mere possibility of its hap-
pening. But it seems distinctly conceit able from the very
nature of particular affections or propensions. For, sup-
pose creatures intended for such a particular state of life,
for which such propensions were necessary ; suppose them
endued with such propensions, together with moral under-
standing, as well including a practical sense of virtue as a
speculative perception of it ; and that all these several prin-
ciples, both natural and moral, forming an inward constitu-
tion of mind, were in the most exact proportion possible, t. e.
in a proportion the most exactly adapted to their intended
state of life ; such creatures would be made upright, or finite-
ly perfect. Now, particular propensions, from their very
nature,rnust be felt, the objects of them being present, though
they cannot be gratified at all, or not wilh the allowance ot
the moral principle. But if they can be gratified without
its allowance, or by contradicting it, then they must be con-
ceived to have some tendency, in how low a degree soever,
yet some tendency, to induce persons to such forbidden
~ .
OF A STATE OF [PART I.
gratification. This tendency, in some one particular pro-
pension, may be increased, by the greater frequency of oc-
casions naturally exciting it, than of occasions exci.ing
others. The least voluntary indulgence in forbidden cir-
cumstances, though but in thought, will increase this wrong
tendency, and may incree.se it further, till, peculiar conjec-
tures perhaps conspiring, it becomes effect ; and danger of
deviating from right, endsiu actual deviation from it ; a dan-
ger necessarily arising from the very nature of propension,
and which, therefore, could not have been prevented, though
it might have been escaped, or got innocently through. The
case would be, as if we were to suppose a straight path
marked out for a person, in which such a degree of attention
would keep him steady ; but if he would not attend in this
degree, any one of a thousand objects catching his eye, might
lead him out of it. Now, it is impossible to say, how much
even the first full overt act of irregularity might disorder the
inward constitution, unsettle the adjustments, and alter the
proportions which formed it, and in which the uprightness
of its make consisted. But repetition of irregularities would
produce habits : and thus the constitution would be spoiled,
and creatures, made upright, become corrupt and depraved
in their settled character, proportionably to their repeated
irregularities in occasional acts. But, on the contrary, these
creatures might have improved and raised themselves to a
higher and more secure stale of virtue, by the contrary be-
haviour, by steadily following the moral principle, supposed
to be one part of their nature, and thus notwithstanding that
unavoidable danger of defection, which necessarily arose
from propension, the other part of it. For, by thus preserv-
ing their integrity for some time, their danger would lessen,
since propensions, by being inured to submit, would do it
more easily and of course ; and their security against this
lessening danger would increase, since the moral principle
would gain additional strength by exercise ; both which
things are implied in the notion of virtuous habits. Thus,
then, vicious indulgence is not only criminal in itself, but also
depraves the inward constitution and character. And vir-
tuous self-government is not only right in itself, but also im-
proves the inward constitution or character j and may im-
prove it to such a degree, that though we should suppose it
impossible for particular affections to be absolutely coinci-
dent with the moral principle, and consequently should al-
low that such creatures as have been above supposed would
CHAP. V.] MORAL DISCIPLINE. 170
for ever remain defectihle ; yet (heir danger of actually de-
viating from right may be almost infinitely lessened, and
they fully fortified against \vhat remains of it ; if that may
b called danger, against which there is an adequate effec-
tual security. But still, this their higher perfection rnay
continue to consist in habits of virtue formed in a state of
discipline, and this their more complete security remain to
proceed from them. And thus it is plainly conceivable, \l a'
creatures without blemish, as they came out of the hauls
of God, may be in danger of going wrong, and so may stand
in need of the security of virtuous habits, additional to the
moral principle wrought into their natures by him. That
which is the ground of their danger, or their want of securi-
ty, may be considered as a deficiency in them, to which vir-
tuous habits are the natural supply. And as they are nat-
urally capable of being raised and improved by discipline, it
may be a ihing lit and requisite, that they should be placed
in circumstances with an eye to it ; in circumstances pecu-
liarly fitted to be, to them, a state of discipline for their im-
provement in virtue.
But how much more strong must this hold with respect to
those who have corrupted their natures, are fallen from their
original rectitude, and whose passions are become excessive
by repeated violations of their inward constitution ? Up-
right creatures may want to be improved; depraved crea-
tures want to be renewed. Education and discipline, which
may be in all degrees and sorts of gentleness and of severi-
ty, is expedient for those ; but must be absolutely necessary
for these. For these, diciplme, of the severer sort too, and
in ihe higher degree* of it, must be necessary, in order to
wear out vicious habits ; to recover their primitive strength
of .-eif government, which indulgence must have weakened ;
to repair, as well as raise into a habit, the moral principle, in
order to their arriving at a secure state of virtuous happiness
IS'ow, whoever will consider the thing may clearly see,
that the present world is peculiarly jit to be a state of disci-
pline for this purpose, to such as will set themselves to mend
and improve. For, the various temptations with which we
arc surrounded ; our eaiperience of the deceits of wicked-
ness ; having been in many instances led wrong ourselves ;
the great viciousness of the world ; the infinite disorders
consequent upon it ; our being n.u^r at., Dinted with pain
and sorrow, either from our own feeling of it, or from the
sight of i: in others j ihese things, though" some of them may
-
ISO OF A STATE OP [PART. 1.
indeed produce wrong effects upon our minds, yef, v/hen du-
ly reflected upon, have ali of them a direct tendency to bring
us 10 a settled moderation and reasonableness of temper ; the
contrary both to thoughtless levity, and also to that unre-
strained self-will, and violent bent to follow present inclina-
tion, which may be observed in undisciplined minds. Such
experience, as the present state affords, of the frailty of our
nature, of the boundless extravagance of ungoverned pas-
sion, of the power which an infinite Being has over us, by
the various capacities of misery which he has given us ; in
short, that kind and degree of experience which the present
state affords us, that the constitution of nature is such as to
admit the possibility, the danger, and the actual event, of
creatures losing their innocence and happiness, and becom-
ing vicious, and wretched ; hath a tendency to give a prac-
tical sense of things very different from a mere speculative
knowledge, that we arc liable to vice, and capable of misery.
And who knows, whether the security of creatures in the
highest and most settled state of perfection, may not, in part,
arise from their having had such a sense of things as this,
formed, and habitually fixed within them, in some state of
probation? And passing through the present world with
that moral attention which is necessary to the acting a right
part in it, may leave everlasting impressions of this sort up-
on our minds. But to be a little more distinct : allurements
to what is wrong ; difficulties in the discharge of our duty ;
our not being able to act a uniform right part without some
thought and care ; and the opportunities which we have, or
imagine we have, of avoiding what we dislike, or obtaining
what we desire, by unlawful means, when we either cannot
do it at all, or at least not so easily, by lawful ones ; these
things, i. e. the snares and temptations of vice, are what ren-
der the present world peculiarly fit to be a state of discipline
to those who will preserve their integrity ; because they -ren-
der being upon our guard, resolution, and the denial of cui
passions, necessary in order to that end. And the exercisfe
of such particular recollection, intention of mind, and self-
government, in the practice of virtue, has, from the make of
our nature, a peculiar tendency to ffcrm habits of virtue, as
implying not only a real, but also a-more^ continued, and a
more intense exercise of the virtuous principle ; or a more
constant and a stronger effort of virtue exerted into act.
Thus, suppose a person to know himself to be in particular
danger, for some time, of doing any thing wrong, which yei
CHAP. V.] MORAL DISCIPLINE. 181
he fully resolves not to do, continued recollection, and
ing upon his guard, in order to make good his re,-oluiion, ii
a continued exerting of that, act of virtue in a high degree,
which need have been, and perhaps would have been, only
instantaneous and u-cak } had the tempt alien been so. It w
indeed ridiculous to assert, that self-denial is essential to vi
tne and piety ; but it would have been nearer the truth.
though not strictly the truth itself, to have said, that it is es
sential to discipline and improvement. For, though actior/s
materially virtuous, which have no sort of difficulty, but aie
perfecily agreeable to our particular inclinations, may possi-
bly be done only from these particular inclination?, and so
may not be any exercise of the principle of virtue, i. e. not
be virtuous actions at all ; yet, on the contrary, they may be
,an exercise of that principle, and, when they are, they have
a tendency to form and fix the habit of virtue. But when
the exercise of the virtuous principle is more continued, of-
tener repeated, and more intense, as it must be in circum-
stances of danger, temptation, and difficulty, of any kind
and in any degree, this tendency is increased proportionably,
and a more confirmed habit is the consequence.
This undoubtedly holds to a certain length, but how far it
may hold, I know not. Neither our intellectual powers, nor
our bodily strength, can be improved beyond such a degree ;
and both may be over-wrought. Possibly there may be
somewhat analogous to this, with respect to the moral char-
acter ; which is scarce worth considering. And I mention
it only, lest it should come into some persons thoughts, not
as an exception to the foregoing observations, which per-
haps it is, but as a confutation of them, which it is not.
And there may be several other exceptions. Observations
of this kind cannot be supposed to hold minutely, and ir.
every case. It is enough tlie.t they hold in general. And
these plainly hold so fai, as that from them may be seen dis-
tinctly, which is all that is intended by them, that the pit
sent world is peculiarly jit to be a stale of discipline for our im-
provement in virtue and piety ; in the same sense as some
sciences, by requiring and engaging the attention, not to be
sure of such persons as^i'ill not. but of such as will, sot
themselves to them, are" lit to form the mind to habits of
attention.
Indeed, the present state is so far from proving, in event,
a discipline of virtue to the generaiitj' of men, that, or the
contrary, they seem to make it a discipline of vice. And
16
182 OF A STATE OP [PART I.
the viciousness of the world is, in different ways, the great
temptation, which renders it a state of virtuous discipline, in
the degree it is, to good men. The whole end, and the
whole occasion of mankind being placed in such a state as
the present, is not pretended to be accounted for. That
which appears amidst the general corruption is, that there
are some persons, who, having within them the principle of
amendment and recovery, attend to and follow the notices of
virtue and religion, be they more clear or more obscure,
which are afforded them ; and that the present world is, not
only an exercise of virtue in these persons, but an exercise
of it in ways and degrees peculiarly apt to improve it; apt
to improve it, in some respects, even beyond what would be
by the exercise of it required in a perfectly virtuous society,
or in a society of equally imperfect virtue with themselves.
But that the present world does not, actually become a state
of moral discipline to many, even to the generality, i. e. that
they do not improve or grow better in it, cannot be urged as
a proof that it was not intended for moral discipline, by any
who at all observe the analogy of natuie. For of the nu-
merous seeds of vegetables and bodies of animals, which
are adapted and put in the way, to improve to such a point
or state of natural maturity and perfection, we do not see
perhaps that one in a million actually does, Fur the great-
est part of them decay before they are improved to it, and
appear to be absolutely de?troj-ed Yet no one, who does
not deny all final causes, will deny, that, those seeds and bo-
dies which do attain to that point of maturity and perfection,
answer the end for which they were really designed bj- na-
ture ; and therefore that nature designed them for such per-
fection. And I cannot forbear adding, though it is not to the
present purpose, that the appearance of such an amazing
waste in nature, with respect to these seeds and bodies, by
foreign causes, is to us as unaccountable, as, what is much
more terrible, the present and future ruin of so many moral
agents by themselves, i. e. by vice.
Against this whole notion of moral discipline it may be
objected, in another way, that so far as a course of beha-
viour, materially virtuous, proceeds from hope and fear, so
far it is only a discipline and strengthening of self-love. But
doing what God commands, because he commands it, is
obedience, though it proceeds from hope or fear. And a
course of such obedience will form habits of it ; and a con-
stant regard to veracity, justice, and charity, may form dis.
'"-: it '*.!::.
01
CHAP. V.] MORAL DISCIPLINE. 183
tinct habits of these particular virtues, and will certainty
form habits of self-government, and of denying- our inclina-
tions, whenever veracity, justice, or charity requires it. Nor
is there any foundation for this great nicety, with which
some affect to distinguish in this case, in order to depreciate
all religion proceeding from hope or fear. For veracity, jus-
tice, and charity, regard to God's authority, and to our o.vn
chief interest, are not only all three coincident, but each of
them is, in itself, a just and natural motive or principle of
action. And he who begins a good life from any one of
them, and perseveres in it, as he has already in some degree,
so he cannot fail of becoming more and more of that cha-
racter, which is correspondent to the constitution of nature
as moral, and to the relation which God stands in to us as
moral governor of it ; nor, consequently, can he fail of ob-
taining that happiness, which this constitution and relation
necessarily supposes connected with that character.
These several observations, concerning the active princi-
ple of virtue and obedience to God's commands, are applica-
ble to passive submission or resignation to his will ; which
is another essential part of a right character, connected with
the former, and very much in our power to form ourselves
to. It may be imagined, that nothing but afflictions can
give occasion for or require this virtue ; that it can have no
respect to, nor he any way necessary to qualify for a state
of perfect happiness ; but it is not experience which can
make us think thus: Prosperity itself, whilst any thing sup-
posed desirable is not ours, begets extravagant and unboun-
ded thoughts. Imagination is altogether as much a source
of discontent as any thing in our external condition. It is
indeed true, that there can be no scope for patience, when
sorrow shall be no more ; but there may be need of a tem-
per of mind, which shall have been formed by patience.
For, though self-love, considered merely as an active princi-
ple leading us to pursue our chief interest, cannot, but be
uniformly coincident with the principle of obedience to God's
commands, our interest being rightly understood; because
this obedience, and the pursuit of our own chief interest,
must be, in every case, one and the same thing ; yet it may
be questioned, whether self-love, considered merely as the
desire of our own interest or happiness, can, from its nature,
be thus absolute and uniformly coincident with the will of
God, any more than particular affection can ;* coincident irj
* Page 127.
--
184 OP A STATE OF [PART I
such sort, as not to be liable to be excited upon occasions,
and in degrees, impossible to be gratified consistently with
the constitution of things, or the divine appointments. So
that habits of resignation may, upon this account, be requi-
site for all creatures ; habits, I say, which signify what is
formed by use. However, in general, it is obvious, thai
both self love and particular affections in human creatures,
considered only as passive, feelings, distort and rend the
mind, and therefore stand in need of discipline. Now, deni-
al of those particular affections, in a course of active virtue
and obedience to God's will has a tendency to moderate
them, and seems also to have a tendency to habituate the
mind to be easy and satisfied with that degree of happiness
which is alloted to. us, i. e. to moderate self love. But the
proper discipline for re'signation is affliction. For a right
behaviour under that triu.1, recollecting ourselves so as to
consider it in the view in which religion teaches us to consi-
der it, as from the hand of God ; receiving it as what he
appoints, or thinks proper to permit, in his world and under
his government, this will habituate the mind to a dutiful
submission ; and such submission, together with the active
principle of obedience, make up the temper and character
in us which answers to his sovereignty, and which absolute-
ly belongs to the condition of our being, as dependent crea-
tures. Nor can it be said, that this is only breaking the
mind to a submission to mere power, for mere power may
be accidental, and precarious, and usurped ; but. it is form-
ing within ourselves the temper of resignation to his right-
ful authority, who is, by nature, supreme over all.
Upon the whole, such a character, and such qualifica-
tions, are necessary for a mature state of life in the present
tvorld, as nature alone does in no wise bestow, but has put
it upon us in great part to acquire, in our progress from one
stage of life to another, from childhood to mature age ; put
it upon us to acquire them, by giving us capacities of doing
it and by placing us, in the beginning of life, in a condition
fit for it. And this is a general analogy to our condition in
the present world, as in a stale of moral discipline for anoth-
er. It is in vain, then, to object against the credibility of
the present life being intended for this purpose, that all the
trouble and the danger unavoidably accompanying such
discipline might have been saved us, by our being made at
once the creatures and the characters which we were to be.
For we experience, that what we were to be, was to be the
CHAP. V.] MORAL DISCIPLINE. 165
effect of lohat we, would do ; and that the general conduct of
nature is, not to save us trouble or danger, but to make us
capable jf going through them, and to put it upon us to do
so. Acquirements of our own experience and habits, are
the natural supply to our deficiencies, and security against
our dangers ; since it is as plainly natural to set ourselves to
acquire the qualifications as the external things which we
stand in need of. In particular, it is as plainly a gtneial
law of nature, that we should, with regard^to our temporal
interest, form and cultivate practical prirSples within us,
by attention, use, and discipline, as any thing whatever is a
natural law ; chiefly in the begining of life, but also through
out the whole course of it. And the alternative is left to
our choice, either to improve ourselves and better our condi-
tion, or, in default of such improvement, to remain deficient
and wretched. It is therefore perfectly credible, from the
Analogy of nature, that the same may be our case, with re-
spect to the happiness of a future state and the qualifica-
tions necessary for it.
There is a third thing, which may seem implied in the
present world being a state of probation, that it is a thea-
tre of action for the manifestation of persons' characters,
wi:h respect to a future one ; not, to be sure, to an all-know-
ing Being, but to his creation, or part of it. This may,
perhaps, be only a consequence of our being in a stale of
probation in the other senses. However, it is not impossi-
ble that men's showing and making manifest what is in their
heart, what their real character is, may have respect 10 a
future life, in ways and manners which we are not acquain-
ted with : particularly it may be a means, for the Author of
nature does not appear lo do any thing without- means, of
their being disposed of suitably to their characters, and oi
its luv.ng known to the creation, by way of example, that
they are thus disposed of. But not to enter upon any con-
jectural account of this, one may just mention, that the
manifestation of persons' characters contributes very much,
ui various ways, to the carrying on a great part of that gene-
al course of nature respecting mankind, which comes un-
ler our observation at present. I shall only add, that pro-
bation, in both these senses, as well as in that treated ot in
>.he foregoing chapter, is implied in moral government :
bince by persons' behaviour under i', their characters cannot
out be manifested, and if they behave well, improved.
16*
186 OP THE OPINION OF NECESSITY. [PART I
_
Of the opinion of Necessity, considered as influencing
Practice.
THROUGHOUT the foregoing Treatise it appears, that the
condition of mankind, considered as inhabitants of this
world only, and under the government of God which we
experience, is greatly analogous to our condition, as design-
ed for another world, or under that farther government which
religion teaches us. If, therefore, any assert, as a fatalist
must, that the opinion of universal necessity is reconcilable
with the former, there immediately arises a question in the
way of analogy ; whether he must not also own it to be
reconcilable with the latter, i. e. witfi the system of religion
itself, and the proof of it. The reader, then, will observe,
that the question now before us, is not absolute, whether the
opinion of fate be reconcilable with religion ; but hypotheti-
cal, whether, upon supposition of its being reconcilable with
the constitution of nature, it be not .reconcilable with reli-
gion also 1 or, what pretence a fatalist, not other persons,
but a fatalist has to conclude, from his opinion, that there
can be no such thing as religion 1 And as the puzzle and
obscvjrity, which must unavoidably arise from arguing upon
so absurd a supposition as that of universal necessitj^, will,
I fear, easily be seen, it will, I hope, as easily be excused.
But since it has oeen all along taken for granted, as a
Ihing proved, that there is an intelligent Author of nature,
or natural Governor of the world ; and since an objection
may be made against the proof of this, from the opinion of
universal necessity, as it may be supposed that such necessi-
ty will itself account for the origin and preservation of all
things, it is requisite that this objection be distinctly answer-
ed ; or that it be shown, that a fatality, supposed consistent
with what we certainly experience, does not destroy the
jroof of an intelligent Author and Governor of nature, be-
CHAP. VI.] AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE. 187
fore we proceed to consider, whether it destroys the proof of
a moral Governor of it, or of our being in a state of
religion.
Now when it is said by a fatalist, that the whole constitu-
tion of nature, and the actions of men, that every thing and
every mode and circumstance of every thing, is necessary, and
could not possibly have been otherwise, it is tabe observed,
that this necessity does not exclude deliberation, choice,
preference, and acting from certain principk^and to certain
ends ; because all this is matter of undoil^d experience,
acknowledged by all, and what every man may, every mo-
ment, be conscious of. And from hence it follows, that ne-
ce.-^ny, alone and of itself, is in no sort an account of the
constitution of nature, and how things came to be and to con-
tinue as they arc ; but only an account of this circumstance
relating to their origin and continuance, that they could not
have been otherwise than they are and have been. The as-
sertion, that every thing is by necessity of nature, is not an
answer to the question, Whether the world came into being
as it is by an intelligent Agent forming it thus, or not ; but
to quite another question. Whether it came into being as it
is, in that way and manner which we call necessarily, or in
that way and manner which we call freely. For, suppose
farther, that one, who was a fatalist, and one, who kept to
his natural sense of things, and believed himself a free agent,
were disputing together, and vindicating their respective
opinions, and they should happen to instance in a house,
they would agree that it was built by an architect. Their
difference concerning necessity and freedom, would occasion
no difference of judgment concerning this, but only concern-
ing another matter, whether the architect built it necessarily
or freely. Suppose, then, they should proceed to inquire,
concerning the constitution of nature ; in a lax way of speak-
ing, one of them might say, it was by necessity, and the
other by freedom ; but, if they had any meaning to their
words, as the latter must mean a free agent, so the former
must at length be reduced to mean an agent, whether he
would say one or more, acting by necessity ; for abstract no-
lions can do nothing. Indeed, we ascribe to God a neces-
sary existence, uncaused by any agent. For we find with-
in ourselves the idea of infinity, :'. e. immensity and eternity,
impossible, even in imagination, to be removed out of being.
We seem to discern intuitively, that there must, and cannot
but be, somewhat, external to ourselves, answering this idea,
188 OF THE OPINION OF NECESSITY, [PART
or the archetype of it. And from hence (for this abstract, as
much as any other, implies a concrete] we conclude, that there
is, and cannot but be, an infinite and immense eternal Bwng
existing prior to all design contributing *.o his existence, and
exclusive of it. And, from The scantiness of language, a
manner of speaking has been introduced, that necessity is
the foundation, the reason, the account of the existence oi
God. But it is not alledged, nor can it 'be at all intended,
that every thing^xists as it does by this kind of necessity,
a necessity anrlRdcnt in nature to design ; it cannot, I say,
be meant, that every thing exists as it does, by this kind of
necessity, upon several accounts ; and particularly, because
it is admitted, that design in the actions of men, contributes
to many alterations in nature. For, if any deny this, 1 shall
not pretend to reason with them.
From these things it follows, first, That when a fatalist
asserts that every thing is by necessity, he must mean, by an
agent acting necessarily ; he must, I say, mean this ; for 1
am very sensible he would not choose to mean it. And,
secondly j That the necessity, by which such an agent is sup-
posed to act, does not exclude intelligence and design. So
that, were the system of fatality admitted, it would just as
much account for the formation of the world, as for the strue
ture of a house, and no more. Necessity as much requires
and supposes a necessary agent, as freedom requires and
supposes a free agent to be the former of the world. And
the appearance of design and of final causes in the constitu-
tion of nature, as really prove this acting agent to be an in-
telligent designer, or to act from choice, upon the scheme of
necessity, supposed possible, as upon that of freedom.
It appearing thus, that the notion of necessity does not
destroy the proof, that, there is an intelligent Author of nature
and natural Governor of the world, the present queslionwhich
the analogy before mentioned* suggests, and which. I think,
Lt will answer, is this : whether the opinion of necessity,
suppose consistent with possibility, with the constitution of
the world, and the natural government which we experi-
ence exercised over it, destroys all reasonable ground of be-
uef, that we are in a state of religion ; or whether that opin-
ion be reconcilable with religion, with the system and the
proof of it.
Suppose, then, a fatalist to educate any one, from hia
* Page 152,
CHAP. VI.] AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE. 189
his youth up in his own principles ; that the child should rea-
son upon tf ;m, and conclude, that since he cannot possibly
behave otherwise than he does, he is not a subject of blame
or commendation, nor can deserve to be rewarded or punish-
ed: imagine him to eradicate the very perceptions of blame
and commendation out of his mind, by means of this system ;
to form his temper, and character, and behaviour to it ; and
from it to judge of the treatment he was to expect, say. from
reasonable men, upon his coming abroad into the world, as
the fatalist judges from this system, what ne is to expect
from the Author of nature, and wi-h regard to a future state :
I cannot forbear stopping here to ask, whether any one of
common sense would think fit, that a child should be put
upon these speculations, and be left to apply them to prac-
tice ? and a man has little pretence 10 reason, who is not
sensible ihat we are all children in speculations of this kind.
Hjwever, the child would doubtless be highly delighted to
find himself freed from the restraints of fear and shame, with
which his play fellows were fettered and embarrassed; and
highly conceited in his superior knowledge, so far beyond
his years. But conceit and vanity would be the least bad
part of the influence which these principles must have, when
thus reasoned and acted upon, during the course of his edu-
cation. He must either be allowed to go on, and be the
plague of all about him, and himself too, even to his v/wn
destruction, or else correction must be continually rrmde use
of, to supply the want of those natural perceptions oi' blame
and commendation, which we have supposed to be removed,
and to give him a practical impression of what he had rea-
soned himself out of the belief of, that he was, in fact, an
accountable child, and to be punished fordoing what he was
forbid. It is therefore in reali'y impossible, but that the cor-
rection which he must meet with, in the course of his edu-
cation, must convince him, that if the scheme he was in
structed in were not false, yet that he reasoned inconclusive
ly upon it, and, somehow or other, misapplied it to practice
and common life ; as what the fatalist experiences of the
conduct of Providence at present, ought in all reason, to con-
vince him, that this scheme is misapplied, when applied to
the subject of religion.* But, supposing the child's tem-
per could remain still formed to the system, and his expecta-
tion of the treatment he was to have in the world be regula-
* Page 166.
190 OF THE OPINION OF NECESSITY, [PAKT. t.
t.ed by it, so as to expect that no reasonable man would blarne
or punish him for any thing which he should do, because
he could not help doing it ; upon thissupposiiion, it is mani-
fest he would, upon his corning abroad into the world, be in-
supportable to society, and the treatment which he would
receive from it, would render it so to him ; and he could no'
fail of doing somewhat very soon, for which he would be de-
livered over into the hands of civil justice: arid thus, in the
end, he -would be convinced of the obligations he was under
to his wise instructer. Or suppose this scheme of fatality,
in any other way, applied to practice, such practical appli-
cation of it will be found equally absurd, equally fallacious
in a practical sense. For instance, that if a man be destined
to live such a time, he shall live to it, though he take no
care of his own preservation ; or if he be destined to die be-
fore that time, no care can prevent it ; therefore, all eare
about preserving one's life is to be neglected : which is the
fallacy instanced in by the ancients. But now, on the con-
trary, none of these practical absurdities can be drawn, from
reasoning upon the supposition, that we are free ; but aL 1
such reasoning, with regard to the common affairs of life, is
justified by experience. And, therefore, though it were ad-
mitted that this opinion of necessity were speculatively true,
yet, with regard to practice, it is as if it were false, so fur as
our experience reaches ; thai is, to the whole of our present
life. For, the constitution of the present world, and the con-
dition in which ve are actually placed, is as if we were free.
And it may perhaps justly be concluded, that since the whole
process of action, through every step of it, suspense, delibe-
ration, inclining onR way, determining, and at last doing as
we determine, is as if were free, therefore we are so. But
the thing here insisted upon is, that under the present na-
.aral government of the world, we find we are treated and
dealt with as if we were free, prior to all consideration wheth
er we are or not. Were this opinion therefore, of necessity,
admitted to be ever so true, yet such is in fact our condition
and the natural course of things, that, whenever we apply
it to life and practice, this application of it alwaj T s misleads
us, and cannot but mislead us, in a most dreadful manner,
with regard to our present interest. And how can people
think themselves so very secure ihen, that the same appli-
cation of the same opinion may not mislead them also in
some analogous manner, with respect to a future, a more
general, and more important, interest 1 For, religion being
CHAP. VI."] AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE. 191
a practical subject, and the analogy of nature showing- us,
that we have not faculties to apply this opinion, were il a
true one, to practical subjects ; whenever we do apply it to
the subject of religion, and then conclude, that we are free
from its obligations, it is plain this conclusion cannot be de
pended upon. There will still remain just reason to think,
whatever appearances are, that we deceive ourselves ; in
somewhat of a like manner as when people fancy thoy can
draw contradictory conclusions from the idea of infinity.
From these things together, the attentive reader will see
it follows, that if, upon supposition of freedom, the evidence
of religion be conclusive, it remains so, upon supposition of
necessity ; because the notion of necessity is not applica-
ble to practical subjects ; z. e. with respect to them, is as if
it were not true. Nor does this contain any reflection upon
reason, but only upon what is unreasonable. For, to pre-
tend to act upon reason, in opposition to practical principles
which the Author of our nature gave us to act upon, and to
pretend to apply our reason to subjects with regard to which
our own short views, and even our experience, will show us
it cannot be depended upon, and such, at best, the subject
of necessity must be, this is vanity, conceit, and unrea
sonableness.
But this is not all. For we find within ourselves a will
and are conscious of a character. Now, if this, in us, be
reconcilable with fate, it is reconcilable with it in the Author
of nature. And, besides, natural government and final
causes imply a character and a will in the Governor and
Designer ;* a will concerning the creatuies whom he gov-
erns. The Author of nature, then, being certainly of some
character or other, notwithstanding necessity, it is evident
this necessity is as reconcilable with the particular character
of benevolence, veracity and justice, in him, which attri-
butes are the foundation of religion, as with any other char-
acter ; since we find this necessity no more hinders men from
being benevolent than cruel ; true, than faithless ; just, than
unjust, or, if the fatalist pleases, what we call unjust. For
it is said indeed, that what, upon supposition of freedom,
would be just punishment, upon supposition of necessity,
becomes manifestly unjust ; because il is punishment inflic-
* By will and character is meant that, which, in speaking of n-,en, we
should express, not only by these vords, but also by the words temper,
taste, dispositions, practical principles ; that wfole frame of mind, J~ii,ii\
vhencc we act in one manner rather than another.
192 OF THE OPINION OF NECESSITY, [PARI 1 I.
ted for doing that which persons could not avoid doing-. Aa
if the necessity, which is supposed to destroy the injustice
of murder, for instance, would not also destroy the injustice
of punishing it. However, as little to the purpose as this
objection is in itself, it is very much to the purpose to observe
from it, how the notions of justice and injustice remain,
even whilst we endeavour to suppose them removed ; how
(hey force themselves upon the mind, even whilst we are
making suppositions destructive of. them : for there is not,
f erhaps, a man in the world, but would be ready to make
this objection at first thought.
But though it is most'evident, that universal necessity, if
it be reconcilable with any thing, is reconcilable with that
character in the Author of nature, which is the foundation
of religion ; e y;t, does it not plainly destroy the proof, that.
he is of that character, and consequently the proof of reli-
gion ?' By no means. For we find, that happiness and
misery are not our fate, in any such sense as not to be the
consequences of our behaviour, but that they are the conse-
quences of it.* We find God exercises the same kind of
government over us, with that which a father exercises over
his children, and a civil magistrate over his subjects. Now,
whatever becomes of abstract questions concerning liberty
and necessity, it evidently appears to us, that veracity and
justice must be the natural rule and measure of exercising
this authority, or government, to a Being, who can have no
competitions, or interfering of interests, with his creatures
and his subjects
But as the doctrine of liberty, though we experience its
truth, may be perplexed with difficulties which run up into
the most abstruse of all speculations, and as the opinion of
necessity seems to be the very basis upon which infidelity
grounds itself, it may be of some use to offer a more parti-
cular proof of the obligations of religion, which may dis-
tinctly be shown not to be destroyed by this opinion.
The proof, from final causes, of an intelligent Author of
nature, is not affected by the opinion of necessity ; suppo-
sing necessity a thing possible in itself, and reconcilable
with the constitution of things. | And it is a matter of fact,
independent on this or any other speculation, that he gov-
erns the world by the method of rewards and punish-'
ments ;J and also that he hath given us a moral faculty, by
* Chap. 2.
T Page 153, &c. t Chap. Z.
CHAP. VI.] AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE. 1Q3
which we distinguish between actions, and approve some as
virtuous and of good desert, and disapprove others as vicious
and of ill desert.* Now, this moral discernment implies, in
the notion of it, a rule of action, and a rule of a very pecu-
liar kind ; for it carries in it authority and a right of direc
tion ; authority in such a sense, as that we cannot depart
from it without being self-condemned. f And that the dic-
tates of this moral faculty, wliich are by nature a rule to
us, are moreover the laws of GoJ, la\\ 3 in a sense including
sanctions may be thus proved. Consciousness of a rule or
guide of action, in creatures who are capable of considering
it as given them by their Maker, not only raises immediately
a sense of duty, but also a sense of security in following it,
and of danger in deviating from it. A direction of the Au-
thor of nature, given to creatures capable of looking upon
it as such, is plainly a command from him ; and a command
from him necessarily includes in it, at least, an implicit pro-
mise in case of obedience, or threatening, in case of disobe-
dience. But then the sense of perception of good and ill
desert, J which is contained in the moral discernment, ren-
ders the sanction explicit, and makes it appear, as one may
say, expressed. For, since his method of government is to
reward and punish actions, his having annexed to some
actions an inseperable sense of good desert, and to others of
ill, this surely amounts to declanng upon whom his punish-
ments shall be inflicted, and his rewards be bestowed. For
he must have given us this discernment and sense of things
as a presentiment of what is to be hereafter ; that is by way
of information beforehand, what we are finally to expect in
his world. There is, then, most evident ground to think,
that the government of God, upon the whole, will be found
to correspond to the nature which he has given us ; and
that, in the upshot and issue of things, happiness and mise-
ry shall, in fact and event, be made to follow virtue and vice
respectively ; as he has already, in so peculiar a manner,
associated the ideas of them in our minds. And from hence
might easily be deduced the obligations of religious worship,
were it only to be considered as a means of preserving upon
our minds a sense of this moral government of God, and
securing our obedience to it ; which yet is an axtremely im-
perfect view of that most important duty.
Dissertation 2. T Sermon 2d at the Roll*.
J Dissertation 2.
f94 OF THE OPINION OF NECESSITY, [FART I,
Now, I say, no objection from necessity can lie against
this general proof of religion : none against the proposition
reasoned upon, that we have such a moral faculty and dis-
cernment ; because this is a mere matter of fact, a thing of
experience, that human kind is thus constituted : none
against the conclusion ; because it is immediate, and wholly
from this fact. For the conclusion, that God will finally re-
ward the righteous and punish the wicked, is not here drawn,
from its appearing to us fit * that he should, but from its ap-
pearing, that he has told us he will. And this he hath cer-
tainly told us, in the promise and threatening, which, it hath
been observed, the notion of a command implies, and the
sense of good and ill desert, which he has given us, more
distinctly expresses. And this reasoning from fact is confir-
med, and, in some degree, even verified, by other facts ; by
the natural tendencies of virtue and of vice ; f and by this,
that God, in the natural course of his providence, punishes
vicious actions, as mischievous to society ; and also vicious
actions, as such, in the strictest sense. J So that the gene-
ral proof of religion is unanswerably real, even upon the
wild supposition which we are arguing upon.
It must likewise be observed farther, that natural religion
hath, besides this, an external evidence, which the doctrine
of necessity, if it could be true, would not affect. For, sup-
pose a person, by the observations and reasoning above, or
by any other, convinced of the truth of religion ; that there
is a God, who made the world, who is the moral Governor
and Judge of mankind, and will, upon the whole, deal with
every one according to his works ; I say, suppose a person
convinced of this by reason, but to know nothing at all of
* However, I am far from intending to deny, that the will of God is de-
termined by what is fit, by the right and reason of the case ; though one
chooses to decline matters of such abstract speculation, and to speak with
caution when one does speak of them. But if it be intelligilue to say,
that it is Jit and reasonable for every one to consult his own happiness,
then fitness of action, or the right and reason of the case, is an intelligi-
ble manner of speaking. And it seems as inconceivable, to suppose God
to approve one course of action, or one end, preferable to another, which
yet nis acting at all from design implies that he docs, without supposing
nmewhat prior in that end, to be the ground of the preference ; as to sup-
pose him to discern an abstract proposition to be true, without supposing
somewhat prior in it to be the ground of the discernment. It doth not,
therefore, appear, that moral right is any more relative to perception than
abstract truth is ; or that it is any more improper to speak of the fitness
and Tightness of actions and ends, as founded in the nature of things, than
to speak of abstract truth, as thus founded.
T Pft* JOft $ Page 102, Ac.
CHAP. VI.] AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE. 195
antiquity, or the present state of mankind, it would be nat-
ural for such an one to be inquisitive, what was the history
of this system of doctrine ; at what time, and in what man-
ner, it came first into the world ; and whether it were believ
ed by any considerable part of it. And were he upon in-
quiry to find, that a particular person, in a late age, first of
all proposed it as a deduction of reason, and that mankind
were before wholly ignorant of it ; then though its evidence
from reason would remain, there would be no additional pro-
bability of its truth, from the account of its discovery. But
instead of this being the fact of the case, on the contrary, he
would find what, could not but afford him a very strong con-
firmation of its truth: First, That somewhat of this system,
with more or fewer additions and alterations, hath been pro-
fessed in all ages and countries of which we have any cer-
tain information relating to this matter. Secondly, That it
is certain historical fact, so far as we can trace things up, that
this whole system of belief, that there is one God, the Crea-
tor and moral Governor of the world, and that mankind is in
a state of religion, was received in the first ages. And, third-
ly, That as there is no hint or intimation in history, that this
system was first reasoned out ; so there is express historical
or traditional evidence, as ancient as history, that it was
taught first by revelation. Now, these things must be al-
lowed to be of great weight. The first of them, general
consent, shows this system to be conformable to the common
sense of mankind. The second, namely, that religion was
believed in the first ages of the world, especially as it does
not appear that there were then any superstitious or false addi-
tions toil, cannot, but. beafarther confirmation of its truth. For
it is a proof of this alternative ; either that it came into the
world by relation, or that it is natural, obvious, and forces it-
self upon the mind. The former of these is the conclusion
of learned men. And whoever will consider, how unapi for
speculation rude and uncultivated minds are, will, perhaps
from hence alone, be strongly inclined to believe it the truth.
And as it is shown in the second part * of this Treatise, that
there is nothing of such peculiar presumption against a reve-
lation in the begining of the world, as there is supposed to
bo against subsequent ones ; a sceptic could not, I think,
give any account, which would appear more probable even
to himself, ot the early pretences to revelation, than by sup
* Chap, a
196 OF TUfi OPINION OF NECESSITY, [PART I.
posing some real original one, from whence they were copi-
ed. And the third thing above mentioned, that there is ex-
press historical or traditional evidence, as ancient as history.
of the system of religion being taught mankind by revela-
tion ; this must be admitted as some degree of real proof,
that it was so taught. For why should not the most ancient
tradition be admitted as some additional proof of a fact,
against whi' h there is no presumption ? And this proof is
mentioned acre, because it has its weight to show, that reli-
gion came into the world by revelation priorto all considera-
tion of the proper authority of an}' book supposed to con-
tain it ; and even prior to all consideration, whether the reve-
lation itself be uncorruptly handed down and related, 01
mixed and darkened with fables. Thus the historical ac-
count which we have, of the origin of religion, taking in all
circumstances, is a real confirmation of its truth, no way af-
fected by the opinion of necessity. And the external evi-
dence, even of natural religion, is by no means inconsidera-
ble.
But it is carefully to be observed, and ought f.o be recollec-
ted after all proofs of virtue and religion, which are only
general, that as speculative reasons may be neglected, pre-
judiced, and deceived, so also may our moral understanding
be impaired and perverted, and the dictates of it not impar-
tially attended to. This, indeed, proves nothing against the
reality of our speculative or practical faculties of perception ;
against their being intended by nature to inform us in the
theory of things, and instruct us haw we are to behave, ana
what we are to expect, in consequence of our behaviour.
Yet our liableness, in the degree we are liable, to prejudice
and perversion, is a most serious admonition to us to be upon
our guard, with respect to what is of such consequence, as
our determinations concerning virtue and religion ; and par-
ticularly, not to take custom, and fashion, and slight notions
of honor, or imaginations of present ease, use, and con \ em
ence to mankind, for the only moral rule.*
The foregoing observations, drawn from the nature of the
thing, and the history of religion, amount, when taken to-
gether, to a real practical proof of it, not to be confuted ;
such a proof as, considering the infinite importance of the
thing, I apprehend, would be admitted fully sufficient, in
reason, to influence the actions of men, who act upon
* Dissertation 2.
CHAP. VI.] AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE. 197
thought and reflection ; if it were admitted that there is no
proof of the contrary. But it may be said ; ' There are
many probabilities, which cannot indeed be confuted, t. e.
shown to be no probabilities, and yet may be overballanced
by greater probabilities on the other side ; much more by
demonstration. And there is no occasion to object against
particular arguments alleged for an opinion, when the opin-
ion itself may be clearly shown to be false, without meddling
with such arguments at ah 1 , but leaving them just as they
are.* Now, the method of government by rewards and
punishments, and especially rewarding and punishing good
and ill desert, as such, respectively, must go upon supposi-
tion, that we are free, and not necessary agents. And it is
incredible, that the Author of nature, should govern us up-
on a supposition as true, which he knows to be false ; and
therefore absurd to think, he will reward or punish us for our
actions hereafter ; especially that he will do it under the
notion, that they are of good or ill desert. 1 Here, then, the
matter is brought to a point. And the answer to all this is
full, and not be evaded ; that the whole constitution and
course of things, the whole analogy of providence shows,
beyond possibility of doubt, that the conclusion from this
reasoning is false, wherever the falJacy lies. The doctrine
of freedom, indeed, clearly shows where ; in supposing our-
selves necessary, when in truth we are free agents. But,
upon the supposition of necessity, the fallacy lies in taking
for granted that it is incredible necessary agents should be
rewarded and punished. But that, somehow or other, the
conclusion now mentioned is false, is most ceitain. For it
is fact, that God does govern even brute creatures by the
method of rewards and punishments, in the natuial course
of things. And men are rewarded and punished for their
actioas, punished for actions mischievous to society as being
so, punished for vicious actions as such, by the natural in-
strumentality of each other, under the present conduct of
Providence. Nay, even the affection of gratitude, and the
passion of resentment, and the rewards and punishments
following from them, which in general are to be considered
as natural, :. e. from the Author of nature ; these rewards
and punishments, being naturally! annexed to actions con-
sidered as implying good intention and good desert, ill inten-
tion and ill desert ; these natural rewards and punishments,
* Page* 56; 64. % t Sermon 8th, at the
168 OF THE OPINION OF NECESSITY, [PART 1.
I say, arc as much a contradiction to the conclusion above,
and show its falsehood, as a more exact and complete re-
warding and punishing of good and ill desert, as such. So
that, if it be incredible that necessary agents should be thus
rewarded and punished, then men are not necessary, but
free; since it is matter of fact that they are thus rewarded
and punished. But if, on the contrary, which is the suppo-
sition we have been arguing upon, it be insisted, that men
are necessary agents, then there is nothing incredible in the
farther supposition of necessary agents being thus reward-
ed and punished ; since we ourselves are thus dealt with.
From the whole, therefore, it must follow, that a necessi-
ty supposed possible, and reconcilable with the constitution
of things, does in no sort prove, that the Author of nature
will not, nor destroy the proof that he will, finally and upon
the whole, in his eternal government, render his creatures
happy or miserable, by some means or other, as they behave
well or ill. Or, to express this conclusion in words con-
formable to the title of the chapter, the analogy of nature
shows us, that the opinion of necessity, considered as prac-
tical, is false. And if necessity, upon the supposition above
mentioned, doth not destroy the proof of natural religion, it
evidently makes no alteration in the proof of revealed.
From these things, likewise, we may learn in what sense
to understand that general assertion, that ihe opinion of ne-
cessity is essentially destructive of all religion. First, In a
practical sense ; that by ihis notion atheistical men pretend
to satisfy and encourage themselves in vice, and justify to
other? their disregard to all religion. And, Secondly, In the
strictest sense ; that it is a contradiction to the whole consti-
tution of nature, and to what we may every moment expe-
rience in ourselves, and so overturns every thing. But by
no means is this assertion to be understood, as if necessity,
supposing it could possibly be reconciled with the constitution
of things, and with what we experience, were not also recon-
cilable with religion ; for upon this supposition it demonstra-
bly is so.
CHAP VII. A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 109
CHAPTER VH.
Of the Government of God, considered as a Scheme, or
Constitution, imperfectly comprehended.
THOUGH it be, as it cannot but be, acknowledged, that
the analogy of nature gives a strong credibility to the gene-
ral doctrine of religion, and to the several particular things
contained in it, considered as so many matters of fact ; and
likewise, that it shows this credibility not to be destroyed by
any notions of necessity ; yet still, objections may be insis-
ted upon against the wisdom, equity, and goodness of the
divine government, implied in the notion of religion, and
against the method by whieh this government is conducted,
to which objections analogy can be no direct answer. For
the credibility, or the certain truth, of a matter of fact, does
not immediately prove any thing concerning the wisdom
or goodness of it ; and analogy can do no more, immediate-
ly or directly, than show such and such things to be true or
credible, considered only as matters of fact. But, still, if,
upon supposition of a moral constitution of nature and a
moral government over it, analogy suggests and makes it
credible, that this government must be a scheme, system, or
constitution of government, as distinguished from a number
of single unconnected acts of distributive justice and good-
ness ; and likewise, that it must be a scheme, so imperfectly
comprehended, and of such a sort in other respects, as to
afford a direct general answer to all objections against the
justice and goodness of it ; then analogy is, remotely, of
great service in answering those objections, both by sug-
gesting the answer, and showing it to be a credible one.
Now, this, upon inquiry, will be found to be the case.
For, first Upon supposition that God exercises a moral gov-
ernment over the world, the analogy of his natural govern-
ment suggests, and makes it credible, that his moral govein-
200 THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD, [PART I.
ment must be a scheme quite beyond our comprehension ;
and this affords a general answer to all objections against the
justice and goodness of it. And, secondly, A more distinct
observation of some particular things contained in God's
scheme of natural government, the like things being suppos-
ed, by analogy, to be contained in his moral government, will
farther show how little weight is to be laid upon these objec-
tions.
1. Upon supposition that God exercises a moral govern-
ment over the world, the analogy of his natural government
suggests and makes it credible, that his moral government
must be a scheme quite beyond our comprehension : and
this affords a general answer to all objections against the jus-
tice and goodness of it. It is most obvious, analogy renders
it highly credible, that upon supposition of a moral govern-
ment, it must be a scheme, for the world, and the whole
natural government of it, appears to be so to be a scheme,
s}'stem, or constitution, whose parts correspond to each oth-
er, and to a whole, as really as any work of art, or as any
particular model of a civil constitution, and government. In
this great scheme of the natural world, individuals have va-
rious peculiar relations to other individuals of their own spe-
cies. And whole species are, we find, variously related to
other species, upon this earth. Nor do we know how much
farther these kind of relations may extend. And, as there
is not any action, or natural event, which we are acquainted
with, so single and unconnected as not to have a respect to
some other actions and events, so, possibly, each of them,
when it has not an immediate, may yet have a remote, nat-
ural relation to other actions and events, much beyond the
compass of this present world. There seems indeed, noth-
ing from whence we can so much as make a conjecture,
whether all creatures, actions, and events throughout the
whole of nature, have relations to each other. But, as it is
obvious that all events have future unknown consequences,
so, if we trace any, as far as we can go, into what is connec-
ted with it, we shall find, that if such event were not con-
nected with somewhat farther, in nature unknown to us,
somewhat both past and present, such event could not possi-
bly have been at all. Nor can we give the whole account
of any one thing whatever ; of all its causes, ends, and ne-
cessary adjuncts those adjuncts, I mean, without which it
could not have been. By this most astonishing connexion,
these reciprocal correspondences and mutual relations, ev&sy
CHAP VII.] A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 201
thing which we see in the course of nature, is actually
brought about. And things seemingly the most insignificant
imaginable, are perpetually observed to be necessary condi-
tions to other things of the greatest importance ; so that any
one thing whatever may, for aught we know to the contra-
ry, be a necessary condition to any other. The natural
world, then, and natural government of it, being such an in-
comprehensible scheme ; so incomprehensible, that a man
must really, in the literal sense, know nothing at all, who is
not sensible of his ignorance in it : this immediately suggests,
and strongly shows the credibility, that the moral world and
government of it may be so too. Indeed, the natural and
moral constitution and government of the world are so con-
nected, as to make up together but one scheme ; and it is
highly probable, that the first is formed and carried on mere-
ly in subserviency to the latter, as the vegetable world is for
the animal, and organized bodies for minds. But the thing
intended here is, without inquiring how far the administra-
tion of the natural world is subordinate to that of the moral,
only to observe the credibility, that one should be analagous
or similar to the other : that, therefore, every act of divine
justice and goodness may be supposed to look much beyond
itself and its immediate object ; may have some reference to
other parts of God's moral administration, and to a general
moral plan ; and that every circumstance of this his moral
government may be adjusted beforehand with a view to the
whole of it. Thus, for example : the determined length of
time, and the degrees and ways in which virtue is to remain
in a state of warfare and discipline, and in which wickedness
is permitted to have its progress ; the times appointed for the
execution of justice ; the appointed instruments of it ; the
kinds of rewards and punishments, and the manners of their
distribution ; all particular instances of divine justice and
goodness, and every circumstance of them, may nave such
respects to each other, as to make up altogether a whole,
connected and related in all its parts ; a scheme, or system,
which is as properly one as the natural world is, and of the
like kind. And supposing this to be the case, it is most evi-
dent that we are not competent judges of this scheme, from
the small parts of it which come within our view in the pre-
sent life ; and therefore no objections against any of these
parts can be insisted upon by reasonable men.
This our ignorance, and the consequence here drawn from
it, are universally acknowledged upon other occasions ; and,
202 THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD, [PART I
though scarce denic3, yet are universally forgot, when
persons come to argue against religion. And it. is
not perhaps easy, even for the most reasonable men, al-
ways to bear in mind the degree of our ignorance, and
make due allowances for it. Upon these accounts, it
may not be useless to go on a little farther, in order to show
more distinctly, how just an answer nr ignorance is, to ob-
jections against the scheme of Providence. Suppose, then,
a person boldly to assert, that the things complained of, the
origin and continuance of evil, might easily have been pre-
vented by repeated interpositions ; * interpositions so guard-
ed and circumstanced, as would prelude all mischief arising
from them : or, if this were impracticable, that a scheme of
government is itself an imperfection ; since more good might
have been produced without any scheme, system, or consti-
tution at all, by continued single unrelated acts of distribu-
tive justice and goodness, because these would have occa-
sioned no irregularities : and farther than this, it is presum-
ed, the objections will not be carried. Yet the answer is ob
vious ; that, were these assertions true, still the observations
above, concerning our ignorance in the scheme of divine
government, and the consequence drawn from it, would hold
in great measure, enough to vindicate religion against all
objections from the disorders of the present state. Were
these assertions true, yet the government of the world might
be just and good notwithstanding ; for, at tho most, they
would infer nothing more than that it might have been bet-
ter. But, indeed, they are mere arbitrarj^ assertions ; no
man being sufficiently acquainted with the possibilities of
things, to bring any proof of them to the lowest degree of
probability. For, however possible what is asserted may
seem, yet many instances may be alledged, in things much
less out of our reach, of suppositions absolutely impossible and
reducible to the most palpable self-contradictions, which not
every one by any means could perceive to be such, nor per-
haps any one at first sight suspect. From these things it is
easy to see distinctly, how our ignorance, as it is the com-
mon, is really a satisfactory answer to all objections against
the justice and goodness of Providence. If a man, contem-
plating any one providential dispensation, which had no re-
lation to any others, should object, that he discerned in it a
disregard to justice, or a deficiency of goodness, nothing
* Pages 174, 175, 176.
CHAP. VII.] A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 203
would be less an answer to such objection, than our igno
ranee in other parts of Providence, or in the possibilities of
things, no way related to what he was contemplating. But
when we know not but the parts objected against may be
relative to other parts unknown to us, and when we are un-
acquainted with what is, in the nature of the thing, practi-
cable in the case before us, then our ignorance is a satisfac-
tory answer ; because some unknown relation, or some un-
known impossibility, may render what is objected against
just and good ; nay, good in the highest practical degree.
II. And how little weight is to be laid upon such objec-
tions will farther appear, by a more distinct observation of
some particular things contained in the natural government
of God, the like to which may be supposed from analogy, to
be contained in his mural government.
JPiVs/, As, in the scheme of the natural world, no ends ap-
pear to be accomplished without means ; so we find that
means very undesirable often conduce to bnng about ends
in such a measure desirable, as greatly to over-balance the
disagreeableness of the means. And in cases where such
means are conducive to such ends, it is not reason, but ex-
perience, which shows us that they are thus conducive.
Experience also shows many means to be conducive and
necessary to accomplish ends, which means, before experi-
ence, we should have thought would have haa even a con-
trary tendency. Now, from these observations relating to
the natural scheme of the world, the moral being supposed
analogous to it, arises a great credibility, that the putiing
our misery in each other's power to the degree it is, and
making men liable to vice to the degree we are ; and, in
general, that those things which are objected against, the
moral scheme of Providence may be, upon the whole, friend-
ly and assistant to virtue, and productive of an over balance
of happiness ; i. e. the things objected against may be means
by which an over-balance of good will, in the end, be found
produced. And, from the same observations, it appears to be
no presumption against this, that we do not, if indeed we do
not, sec those means to have any such tendency, or that
they seem to us to have a contrary one. Thus, those things
whicn we call irregularities, may not be so at all ; because
they may be means of accomplishing wise and good ends
more considerable. And it may be added, as above, that
they may also be the only means by which these wise and
good ends are capable of being accomplished.
201 THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD [PART. I.
After these observations it may be proper to add, in ordei
to obviate an absurd and wicked conclusion from any oi
them, that though the constitution of our nature, from whence
we are capable of vice and misery, may, as it undoubtedly
docs, contribute to the perfection and happiness of the world ;
and though the actual permission of evil may be beneficial
to it, (i. . it would have been more mischievous, not that a
wicked person had himself abstained from his own wicked-
ness, but that any one had forcibly prevented it, than that it
was permitted ;) yet, notwithstanding, it might have been
much better for the world if this very evil had never been
done. Nay, it is most clearly conceivable, that the very
commission of wickedness may be beneficial to the world,
and yet that it would be infinitely more beneficial for men to-
refrain from it. For thus, in the wise and good constitution
of the natural world, there are disorders which bring their
own cures ; diseases which are themselves remedies. Many
a man would have died, had it not been for the gout or fever ;
yet it would be thought madness to assert, that sickness is a
better or more perfect state than health ; though the like,
with regard to the moral world, has been asserted. But,
Secondly, The natural government of the world is carried
or, by general laws. For this there may be wise and good
reasons ; the wisest and best, for aught we know to the con-
trary. And that there are such reasons, is suggested to our
thoughts by the analogy of nature ; by our being made to
experience good ends to be accomplished, as indeed all the
good which we enjoy is accomplished, by this means, that
the laws, by which the world is governed, are general. For
we have scarce any kind of enjoyments, but what we are,
in some way or other, instrumental in procuring ourselves,
by acting in a manner which we foresee likely to procure
them : now this foresight could not be at all, were not the
government the world carried on by general laws. And
though, for aught we know to the contrary, every single
case may be, at length, found to have been provided for even
by these, yet to prevent all irregularities, or remedy them as
they arise, by the wisest and best general laws, may be im-
possible in the nature of things, as we see it is absolutely
impossible in civil government. But then we are rrady to
think, that the constitution of nature remaining as it is, and
the course of things being permitted to go on, in other re-
spects, as it does, there might be interpositions to prevent
irregularities, though they could not have been prevented oi
CHAP. VII.] A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 205
remedied by any general laws. And there would indeed be
reason to wish which, by the way, is very different from a
right to claim that all irregularities were prevented or
remedied by present interpositions, if these interpositions
would have no other effect than this. But it is plain they
would have some visible and immediate bad effects ; for in-
Btance, they would encourage idleness and negligence, and
they would render doubtful the natural rule of life, which is
ascertained by this very thing, that the course of the world
is carried on by general laws. And farther, it is certain they
would have distant effects, and very great ones too, by
means of the wonderful connexions before mentioned.* So
that we cannot so much as guess, what would be the whole
result of the interpositions desired. It may be said, any bad
result might be prevented by farther interpositions, whenever
there was occasion for them ; but this again is talking quite
at random, and in the dark.f Upon the whole, then, we see
wise reasons why the course of the world should be carried
on by general laws, and good ends accomplished by this
means, and, for aught we know, there may be the wisest
reasons for it, and the best ends accomplished by it. We
have no ground to believe, that all irregularities could be
remedied as they arise, or could have been precluded by gene-
ral laws. We find that interpositions would produce evil,
and prevent good ; and, for aught we know, they would
produce greater evil than they would prevent, and prevent
greater good than they would produce. And if this be the
case, then, the not interposing is so far from being a ground
of complaint, that it is an instance of goodness. This is in-
telligible and sufficient ; and going farther seems beyond ihe
utmost reach of our faculties.
But it may be said, that ' after all, these supposed im-
possibilities and relations are what we are unacquainted
with ; and we must judge of religion, as of other things, by
what we do know, and look upon the rest as nothing : or,
however, that the answers here given to what is objected
against religion, may equally be made use of to invalidate
the proofs of it, since their stress lies so very much upon our
ignorance.' But,
First, Though total ignorance in any matter does indeed
equally destroy, or rather preclude, all proof concerning it,
and objections against it, yet partial ignorance does not.
* Page 169. t Pages 171, 173, 173.
18
206 THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD, [PART I.
For we may in any degree be convinced, that a person is of
such a character, and consequently will pursue such ends,
though we are greatly ignorant what is the proper way of
acting, in order the most effectually to obtain those ends ;
and in this case, objections against his manner of acting, as
seemingly not conducive to obtain them, might be answer-
ed by our ignorance, though the proof that such ends were
intended, might not at all be invalidated by it. Thus, the
proof of religion is a proof of the moral character of God,
and, consequently, that his government is moral, and that
every one, upon the whole, shall receive according to his
deserts; a proof that this is the designed end of his gover-
jnent. But we are not competent judges what is the proper
way of acting, in order the most effectually to accomplish
this end.* Therefore oar ignorance is an answer to objec-
tions against the conduct of Providence, in permitting irregu-
larities, as seeming contradictory to this end. Now, since
it is so obvious that our ignorance may be a satisfactory an-
swer to objections against a thing, and yet not affect the
proof of it ; till it can be shown, it is frivolous to assert, that
our ignorance invalidates the proof of religion, as it does the
objections against it.
Secondly, Suppose unknown impossibilities, and unknown
relations, might justly be urged to invalidate the proof of re-
ligion, as well as to answer objections against it, and that,
in consequence of this, the proof of it were "doubtful ; j r et
still, let the assertion be despised, or let it be ridiculed, it is
undeniably true, that moral obligations would remain cer-
tain, though it were not certain what would, upoii the
whule, be the consequences of observing or violating them.
For these obligations arise immediately and necessarity fr ^m
the judgment of our own mind, unless perverted, which *va
cannot violate without being self-condemned. And they
w-jiild be 'xriain, too, from considerations of interest. For,
though it were doubtful what wiL be the future consequen-
ces of virtue and vice, yet it is however credible, that ,hey
may have those consequences which religion teaches us
they will ; and this credibility is a certain! obligation in
point of prudence, to abstain from all wickedness, and to live
in the conscientious practice of all that is good. But,
Thirdly^ The answers above given to the objections against
religion, cannot equally be made use of to invalidate the
* Pages 63, 64. t Page 59, and Part ii chap. 6.
CHAP. VII.] A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 20?
proof of it. For, upon supposition that God exercises a
moral government over the \vorld, analogy does most strong-
ly lead u* to conclude, that this moral government must be
a scheme, or constitution, beyond our comprehension. And
a thousand particular analogies show us, that parts of such
a scheme, from their relation to other parts, may conduc-> to
accomplish ends, which we should have thought they had
no tendency at all to accomplish ; nay, ends, which, before
exj erience, we should have thought such parts were contra-
dictory to, and had a tendency to prevent. And, therefore,
all these analogies show, that the way of arguing made use
of in objecting against religion, is delusive ; because they
show it is not at all incredible, that, could we comprehend
the whole, we should find the permission of the disorders
objected against, to be consistent with justice and goodness,
and even io be instances of them. Now this is not applica-
ble to the proof of religion, aa-it is to the objections against
it ;* and therefore cannot invalidate that proof, as it does
these objections.
Laslly, From the observations now made, it is easy to
see, that the answers above given to the objections against
Providence, though, in a general way of speaking, they may
be said to be taken from our ignorance, yet are by no means
taken merely from that, but from somewhat which analogy
shows us concerning it. For analogy shows us positively,
that our ignorance in the possibilities of things, and the vari
oxis relations in nature, renders us incompetent judges, and
leads us to false conclusions, in cases similar to this, in which
we pretend to judge and to object. So that the things above
insisted upon, are not mere suppositions of unknown impos-
sibilities and relations ; but they are suggested to our
thoughts, and even forced upon the observations of serious
men, and rendered credible, too, by the analogy of nature.
And, therefore, to takj these things into the account, is to
judge by experience, and what we do know ; and it Is not
judg'ng so, to take no notice of them.
* Sermon at the Rolls, p. 312, 2d Edition.
CONCLUSIOJN
THE observations of the last chapter lead us to consider
this little scene of human life, in which we are so busily en-
gaged, as having reference, of some sort or other, to a much
larger plan of things. Whether we are any way related to
the more distant parts of the boundless universe into which
we are brought, is altogether uncertain. But it is evident,
that the course of things which comes within our view, is
connected with somewhat past, present, and future be} r ond
it.* So that we are placed, as one rnav speak, in the mid-
dle of a scheme, not a fixed, but a progressive one, every way
incomprehensible ; incomprehensible, in a manner, equally
with respect to what has been, what now is, and what shall
be hereafter. And ihid scheme cannot but contain in it some-
what as wonderful, and as much beyond our thought and
conception,! as any thing in that of religion. For, will anj r
man in his senses say, that it is less difficult to conceive how
the world came to be, and continued as it is, without, than
with, an intelligent Auihor and Governor of it ? admitting
an intelligent Governor of it, that there is some other rule of
government more natural, and of easier conception, than rhat
which we call moral 1 Indeed, without an intelligent Au-
thor and Governor of nature, no account at all can be given,
how this universe, or the part of it particularly in which wt
are concerned, came to be, and the course of it to be earned
on, as it is ; nor any of its general end and design, wiihout
a moral Governor of it. That there is an intelligent Author
of nature and natural Governor of the world, is a principle
gone upon in the foregoing treatise, as proved, and generally
known and confessed to be proved. And the very notion of
and intelligent Author of nature, proved by particular final
* Page 169, &c. T See Part ii. chap, 2.
210 CONCLUSION. [PART. i.
causes, implies a will and a character.* Now, as our whole
nature, the nature which he has given us, leads us to con-
clude his will and character to be moral, just, and good ; so
we can scarce in imagination conceive, what it can be other-
wise. However, in consequence of this his will and charac-
ter, whatever it be, he formed the universe as it is, and car-
ries on the course of it as he does, rather than in any other
manner ; and has assigned to us, and to all living creatures,
a part and a lot in it. Irrational creatures act this their part,
and enjoy and undergo the pleasures and the pains allotted
them, without any reflection. But on.e would think it im
possible, that creatures endued with reason could avoid re-
flecting sometimes upon all this ; reflecting, if not from
whence we came, yet, at least, whither we are going, and
what the mysterious scheme in the midst of which we find
ourselves, will at length come out and produce; a scheme
in which it is certain we are highly interested, and in which
we may be interested even beyond conception. For many
things prove it palpably absurd to conclude, that we shall
cease to be at death. Particular analogies do most sensibly
show us, that there is nothing to be thought strange in our
being to exist in another state of life. And that we are now
living beings, affords a strong probability that we shall con-
tinue so ; unless there be some positive ground, and there is
none from reason or analogy, to think death will destroy us.
Were a persuasion of this kind ever so well grounded, there
would, surely, be little reason to take pleasure in it. But,
indeed, it can have no other ground than some such imagina-
tion, as that of our gross bodies being ourselves ; which is
contrary to experience. Experience, too, most clearly shows
us the folly of concluding, from the body and the living agent
affecting each other mutually, that the dissolution of the
former is the destruction of the latter. And there are remark-
able instances of their not affecting each other, which lead
us to a contrary conclusion. The supposition, then, which
in all reason we are to go upon, is, that our living nature
will continue after death. And it is infinitely unreasonable
to form an institution of life, or to act upon any other suppo-
sition. Now, all expectation of immortality, whether more
or less certain, opens an unbounded prospect to our hopes
and our feurs ; since we see the constitution of nat ure is such
as to admit of misery, as well as to be productive of happi-
* Page 15E
PART. l.J CONCLUSION. 211
ness, and experience ourselves to partake of both in some
degree ; and since we cannot but know what higher degrees
of both we are capable of. And there is no presumption
against believing farther, that our future interest depends
upon fir present behaviour ; for we see our present interest
doth ; and that the happiness and misery, which are natural-
ly annexed to our actions, very frequently do not follov till
long after the actions are done to which they are respective-
ly annexed. So that, were speculation to leave us uncer-
tain, whether it were likety that the Author of nature, in
giving- happiness and misery to his creatures, hath regard to
their actions or not ; yet, since we find by experience that
he hath such regard, the whole sense of things -which he
has given us, plainly leads us, at once, and without any
elaborate inquiries, to think that it may, indeed must, be to
good actions chiefly that he hath annexed happiness, and to
bad actions misery ; or that he will, upon the whole, reward
those who do well, and punish those who do evil. To con-
firm this from the constitution of the world, it has been ob-
served, that some sort of moral government is necessarily
implied in that natural government of God which we expe-
rien^e ourselves under ; that good and bad actions, at pre-
sent, are naturally rewarded and punished, not only as bene-
ficial and mischievous to society, but also as virtuous and
vicious ; and that there is, hi the very nature of the thing, a
tendency to their being re% arded and punished in a much
higher degree than they are at present. And though this
higher degree of distributive justice, which nature thus
points out and leads towards, is prevented for a time from ta
king place, it is by obstacles which the state of this world
unhappily throws in its way, and which, therefore, are in
their nature temporary. IS'ow, as these things, in the natu-
ral conduct of Providence, are observable on the side of vir-
tue, so there is nothing to be set against them on the side of
vice. A moral scheme of government, then, is visibly es-
tablished, and in some degree carried into execution ; and
this , together with the essential tendencies of virtue and vice
duly considered, naturally raise in us an apprehension that
it will be carried on farther towards perfection in a future
state, and that every one shall there receive according to his
deserts. And if this be so, then our future and general in-
terest, under the moral government of God, is appointed to
depend upon our behaviour, notwithstanding the difficulty
which this may occasion of securing it, and the danger of lo-
212 CONCLUSION. [PART i.
sing it ; just in the same manner q^ our temporal interest,
under his natural government, is appointed to depend upon
our behaviour, notwithstanding the like difficulty and danger.
For. from our original constitution, and that of the world
which we inhabit, we are naturally trusted witn ourselves,
with our own conduct and our own interest. And from the
same constitution of nature, especially joined with that
course of things which is owing to men, we have, tempta-
tions to be unfaithful in this trust, to forfeit this interest, to
neglect it, and run ourselves into misery and ruin. From
these temptations arise the difficulties of bbbaVmg so as 10
secure our temporal interest, and the hazard of behaving so
as to miscarry in it. There is, therefore, nothing incredible
in supposing, ihere may be the like difficulty and hazard
with regard to that chief and final good which religion laj^s
before us. Indeed, the whole account, how it came to pass
that we were placed in such a condition as this, must be be-
yond our comprehension. But it is in part accounted for by
what religion teaches us, that the character of virtue and
piety must be a necessary qualification for a future state of
security and happiness, under the moral government of Gnd ;
in like manner, as some certain qualifications or other are
necessary for every particular condition of life, under his
natural government ; and that the present state was inten-
ded to be a school of discipline, for improving in ourselves
that character. Now, this intention of nature is rendered
highly credible by observing, that we are plainly made for
improvement of all kinds ; that it. is a general appointment
of Providence, that we cultivate practical principles, and
form within ourselves habits of action, in order to become fit
for what we were wholly unfit for before; that, in particu-
lar, childhood and youth is naturally appointed to be a state
of discipline for mature age ; and that the present world is
peculiarly fitted Or a state of moral discipline. And, where-
as objections are urged against the whole nolicn of moral
gove'rnment and a probation state, from the opinion of neces-
sity, it has been shown, that God has given us the evidence,
as it were, of experience, that all objections against religion
on this head are vain and delusive. He has also, in his na-
*ural government, suggested an answer to all our short sight-
ed objections against the equity and goodness of hi.^ moral
government ; and, in general, he has exemplified to us the
latter by the former.
These things, which, it is to be remembered, are matters
PART I.] CONCLUSION. 2l3
of fact, ought, in all common sense, to awaken mankind, to
induce them to consider, in earnest, their condition, and what
they have to do. It is absurd, absurd to the degree of be-
ing ndiclons, if the subject where not of so serious a kind, for
men 10 think themselves secure in a vicious life, or even in
thai immoral thoughtlessness which far the greatest part of
them are fallen into. And the credibility of religion, arising
from experience and facts here considered, is fully su.fident,
in reason, to engage them to live in the general practice cf
all virtue and piety ; under the serious apprehension, though
it should be mixed with some doubt,* of a nghieous adminis-
tration established in nature, and a future judgment in conse-
quence of it ; especially when we consider, bow very ques-
tionable it is whether any thing at all can be gained by vice ;f
how unquestionably little, as well as precarious, the plea-
sures and profits of it are at the best, and how soon they
must be parted with at the longest. For, in the deliberations
of reason, concerning what we are to pursue and what to
avoid, as temptations to any thing from mere passion are
supposed out of the case ; so inducements to vice from cool
expectations of pleasure and interest, so small, and uncer-
tain, and short, are really so insignificant, as, in the view of
reason, to Se almost nothing in themselves, and, in compari-
son with the importance of religion, they quite disappear and
are lost. Mere passion, indeed, may be alleged, though not
as a reason, yet as an excuse for a vicious course of life.
And how sorry an excuse it is will be manifest by observing,
that we are placed in a condition in which we are unavoida-
bly inured to govern our passions, by being necessitated lo
govern them ; and to lay ourselves under the same kind of
restraints, and a? great ones too, from temporal regards, as
virtue and piety, in the ordinary course of things, require.
The plea of ungovernable passion, then, on the side of vice,
is thy poorest cf all things; for it is no reason ; and but a
poor excuse. But the proper motives to religion, are the
proper proofs of it, from our moral nature, from the presagea
of cbnscience, and our natural apprehension of God, under
the character 'f a righteous Governor and Judge ; a nature,
and conscience, and apprehension given us by him ; end
from the confirmation of the dictates of reason, by life and
immortality brought to light by the gospel ; and the wrxi>; <J
God revealed from heaven, against all ungodliness and unrighte-
ousness of men.
* Part ii chap. 6. t Page 99.
, .
THE
ANALOGY
OP
RELIGION
$ TO THE
CONSTITUTION AND COURSE OF NATURE.
PART II.
OF REVEALED RELIGION.
CHAP. I.
Of the Importance of Christianity. .-,^1
'; > ~~ '." *" Jf* -"'..' ' '
SOME persons, upon pretence of the sufficiency of the light
of nature, avowedly reject all revelation, as, in its very notion,
incredible, and what must be fictitious. And, ind 3ed, it is
certain 1.0 revelation would have been given, had ;be light
of nature been sufficient in such a sense as to render one not
wanting and useless. But no man, in seriousness and sim-
plicity of mind, can possibly think it so, who considers the
state of religion in the heathen world before revcla'don, and
its present state in those places which have borrowed no
light from it ; particularly, the doubtfulness of some of the
greatest men concerning things of the utmool Importance, aa
well as the natural inattention and ignorance of mankind in
general. It is impossible to say who would have been able
to have reasoned out that whole system, which we call n.
tural religion, in its genuine simplicity, clear of superstition ;
but there is certainly no ground to affirm that the generality
could : if they could, there is no sort of probability that they
would. Admitting there were, they would highly want a
216 OP THE IMPORTANCE [PAUT II
standing admonition, to remind them of it, and inculcate it
upon them. And, farther still, were they as much disposed
to attend to religion as the better sort of men arc, yet, even
upon this supposition, there would be various occasions for
supernatural instruction and asistance, and the greatest ad-
vantages might be afforded by them. So that to say, reve-
lation is a thing superfluous, what there was no need of, and
what, can be of no service, is I think, to talk quite wildly and
at random. Nor would it be more extravagant to affirm,
that mankind is so entirely at ease in the present state, and
life so completely happy, that it is a contradiction to suppose
our condition capable of being in any respect better.
There are other persons, not to be ranked with these, who
seem to be getting into a way of neglecting, and, as ii
were, overlooking revelation as of small importance, provi-
ded natural religion to be kept to. With little regard, either
to the evidence of the former, or to the objections against it,
and even upon supposition of its truth, ' the only design of it,'
say they, ' must be to establish a belief of the moral system
of nature, and to enforce the practice of natural piety and
virtue. The belief and practice of these things were, perhaps,
much promoted by the first publication of Christianity ; but
whether they are believed and practised, upon the evidence
and motives of nature or of revelation, is no great matter '*
This way of considering revelation, though it is not the same
with the former,yet borders nearly upon it and very much, at
length, runs up into it, and requires to be particularly con-
sidered, with regard to the persons who seem to be getting
into this way. The consideration of it will, likewise, farther
show the extravagance of the former opinion, and the truth
of the observations in answer to it, just mentioned. And an
inquiry into the Importance of Christianity, cannot be an
improper introduction to a treatise concerning the credibility
of it.
Now, if God has given a revelation to mankind, and com-
manded those things which are commanded in Christianity,
it :<? vident. at first sight, that it cannot in any wise be an
inditferenl matter, whether we obey or disobey those com-
* Invenis multos propterea nollo fieri Christianos, quia quasi sufli-
ciunt sibi dc bona vita sua. Bene vivere opus cst, ait. U.uid mi hi prne-
cepturus est Chri-'tus? TTt. hflne vivarn ? Jam be oe vivo. Quid mihi
neeessarius cst Cnristus 1 Nullum homicidium, nulluni furtum, nullam
n|jinarn faciu, res alienas non concupisco, nullo adulterio contaminor. Nam
invcniatur in vita mea aliquid quod reprehendatur, et qui reprehenderit fa-
cial ChristiaQuou 4ug-. in Psalm zxxi
tART II.] O* CHRISTIANITY.
nriands, unless we are certainly assured, that we know all
the reasons for them, and that all those reasons are now
ceased, with regard to mankind in general, or to ourselves
in particular. And it is absolutely impossible we can be
assured of this ; for our ignorance of these reasons proves
nothing in the case, since the whole analogy of nature shows,
what is indeed in itself evident, that there may be infinite
reasons for things, with which we are not acquainted.
But the importance of Christianity will more distincLj
appear, by considering it more distinctly : First, As a. re-
nublication, and external institution, of natural or essential
religion, adapted to the present circumstances of mankind,
and intended to promote natural piety and virtue ; and se-
condly, As containing an account of a dispensation of things,
not discoverable by reason, in consequence of which several
distinct precepts are enjoined us. For, though natural reli-
gion is the foundation and principal part of Christianity, it is
not in any sense the whole of it.
1. Christianity is a republication of natural religion. It
instructs mankind in the moral system of the world ; that it
is the work of an infinitely perfect Being, and under his go-
vernment ; that virtue is his law ; and that he will finally
judge mankind in righteousness, and render to all according
to their works, in a fifture state. And, which is very mate-
rial, it teaches natural religion in its genuine simplicity, free
from those superstitions with which it was totally corrupted,
and under which it was in a manner lost.
Revelation is, farther, an authoritative publication of na-
tural religion, and so affords the evidence of testimony for
the truth of it. Indeed, the miracles and prophecies record-
ed in Scripture, were intended to prove a particular dispensa-
tion of Providence the redemption of the world by the Mes-
siah ; but this does not hinder but that they may also prove
God's general providence over the world, as our Moral Go-
vernor and Judge. And they evidently do prove it ; be-
cause this character of the Author of nature is necessarily
connec ted with and implied in that particular revealed di&-
pensati >n of things ; it is likewise continually taught ex-
pressly and insisted upon, by those persons who wrought
the miracles and delivered the prophecies. ' So that, indeed,
natural religion seems as much proved by the Scripture reve-
lation, as it would have been, had the design of revelation
oeen nothing else than to prove it.
But it may possibly be disputed, how far miracles can
19
218 OF THE IMPORTANCE [PART II,
prove natural religion ; and notable objections may be urged
against this proof of it, considered as a matter oi' specula-
tion ; but, considered as a practical thing, there can be none.
For, suppose a person to teach natural religion to a nation
who had lived in total ignorance or forgetfulness of it, und
to declare he was commissioned by God so to do ; suppose
him, in proof of his commission, to foretell things future,
which no human foresight could have guessed at ; to divide
*Jie sea with a word ; feed great multitudes with bread frorc
heaven ; cure all manner of diseases ; and raise the dead,
even himself, to life ; would not this give additional credi-
bility to his teaching, a credibility beyond what that of a
common man would have, and be an authoritative publica-
tion of the law of nature, i e. a new proof of it ? It would
be a practical one, of the strongest kind, perhaps, which hu-
man creatures are capable of having given them. The law
of Moses, then, and the gospel of Christ, are authoritative
publications of the religion of nature : they afford a proof of
God's general providence, as moral Governor of the world,
as well as of his particular dispensations of Providence to-
wards sinful creatures, revealed in the law of the gospel.
As they are the only evidence of the latter, so they are an
ndditional evidence of the former.
To show this further, let us suppose a man of the great-
est ana most improved capacity, who had never heard of
revelation, convinced upon the whole, notwithstanding the
disorders of the world, that it. was under the direction and
moral government of an infinitely perfect Being, but ready
to question, whether he were not got beyond the reach of his
faculties ; suppose him brought, by this suspicion, into greav
danger of being carried away by the universal bad example
of almost every one around him, who appeared to have no
eense, no practical sense at least, of these things ; and this
perhaps, would be as advantageous a situation, with regard
to religion, as nature alone ever placed any man in. What
a confirmation now must it be to'such a person, all at once
to find, that this moral system of things was revealed to
mankind, in the name of that infinite Being whom he had,
from principles of reason, believed in ; and that the publish-
ers of the revelation proved their commission from him, by
making it appear that he had intrusted them with a power
of suspending and changing the general laws of nature !
Nor must it, by any means, be omitted ; for it is a thing
of the utmost importance, that life and immortality are em
CHAP. I.] OF CHRISTIANITY.
irently brought to light by the gospel. The great doctrines
of a future state, the danger of a course of wickedness, und
the efficacy of repentance, are not only confirmed in the gos-
pel, but are taught, especially the last is, with a degree of
light ; to which that of nature is but darkness.
Farther : As Christianity served these ends and purposes,
when it was first, published, by the miraculous publicatbi; i*-
pelf, so it was intended to serve the same purposes, in future
ages, by means of the settlement of a visible church ;. of a so-
ciety, distinguished from common ones, and from the rest of
the world, by peculiar religious institutions ; by an instituted
method of instruction, and an instituted form of external re-
ligion. Miraculous powers were given to the first preachers
of Christianity, in order to their introducing it into the world .
a visible church was established, in order to continue it, and
carry it on successively throughout all ages. Had Moses
and the Prophets, Christ and his Apostles, only taught, and
by miracles proved, religioiUo their contemporaries the benefits
of their instructions would have reached but to a small part
of mankind. Chrisiianity must have been, in a great de-
gree, sunk and forgot in a very few ages. To prevent this
appears to have been one reason why a visible church was
instituted ; to be, like a city upon a hill, a standing memo-
rial to the world of the duty which we owe our Maker ; to
call men coivirtnally, both by example and instruction, to at-
tend to it, and, by the form of religion ever before their eyes,
remind them of the reality ; to be the repository of the ora-
cles of God ; to hold up the light of revelation in aid to that
of nature, and propagate it throughout all generations to
the end of the world the light of revelation, considered
here in no other view, than as designed to enforce natural re-
ligion. And, in proportion as Christianity is professed and
taught in the world, religion, natural or essential religion, is
thus distinctly and advantageously laid before mankind, tin J
brought again and again to their thoughts, as a matter of
infinite importance. A visible church has also a farther ten-
dency to promote natural religion, as being an instituted
method of education, originally intended to be of more pecul-
iar advantage to those who would conform to it. For one
end of the institution was, that, by admonition and reproof,
as well as instruction ; by a general regular discipline, and
public exercises of religion, the body of Christ, as the Scrip-
ture speaks, should be edified ; i. e. trained up in piety and
virtue, foi a higher and a better state. This settlement then,
220 OF THE IMPORTANCE [PART II.
appearing thus beneficial; tending, in the nature of the
thing, to answer, and in some degree actually answering,
those ends ; it is to be remembered, that the very notion of
it implies positive institutions ; for the visibility of the church
consists in them. Take away every thing of this kind, and
you lose the very notion itself. So that, if the things now
mentioned are advantages, the reason and importance of
positive institutions in general is most obvious ; since with-
out them, these advantages could not be secured to the world
And it is mere idle wantonness, to insist upon knowing the
reasons why such particular ones were fixed upon rather
than others.
The benefit arising from this supernatural' assistance,
which Christianity affords to natural religion, is what some
persons are very slow in apprehending ; and yet it is a thing
distinct in itself, and a very plain obvious one. For will
any, in good earnest, really say, that the bulk of mankind
in the heathen world were in as Advantageous a situation,
with regard to natural religion, as they are now amongst
us 1 that it. was laid before them, and enforced upon them,
in a manner as distinct, and as much tending to influe-nce
their practice ?
The objections against all this, from the perversion ol
Christianity, and from the supposiiron of its having had but
little good influence, however innocently they may be pro-
posed, yet cannot be insisted upon as conclusive, upon any
principles but such us lead to downright atheism ; because
the manifestation of the kw of nature by reason, which, up-
on all principles of theism, must have been from God, has been
perverted and rendered ineffectual in the same n.anner. It
may indeed, 1 think, truly be said that the good effects cf
Christianity have not been small ; nor its supposed ill effects
at all of it, properly speaking. Perhaps, too, the things
themselves done have been aggravated ; and if not, Chris-
tianity hath been often only a pretence ; and the same evils,
in the main, would have been done upon some other pretence.
However, great and shocking as the corruptions and abuses
of it have really been, they cannot be insisted upon as argu-
ments against it, upon principles of theism. For one can-
not proceed one step in reasoning upon natural religion, any
more than upon Christianity, without laying it down as a
first principle, that the dispensations of Providence are not
to be judged of by their perversions, but by their genuine
tendencies ; not by what they do actually seem to effect, bm
CHAP. I.] OF CHRISTIANITY. 221
by what they would effect if mankind did their part, that
part which is justly put and left upon them. It is altogeih-
er as much the language of one, as of the olher : he thai
is unjust, let him be unjust still ; and he that is holy, let him ie
holy still* The light of reason does not, any more than
that of revelation, force men to submit toils authority : both
admonish ihern of what they ought to do and avoid, togeth-
er with ihe consequences of each ; and, after this, leave
thorn at fi.ll liberty to act just as they please, till the appom
ted time of judgment. Every moment's experience shows,
that tliis is God's general ride of government.
To return, then : Christianity being a promulgation of the
law of nature ; being, moreover, an authoritative promulga-
tion of it, wiih new light and oiher circumstances of pecu-
liar advantage, adapted to the wants of mankind these
things fully show its importance. And it is to be observed
farther that as the nature of the case requires, so all Chris-
tians are commanded to contribute, by iheir profession of
Christianity, to preserve it in the world, and render it such
a promulgation and enforcement of religion. For it is the
very scheme of the gospel, that each Christian should, in
his degree, contribute towards continuing and carry ing it on;
all by uniting in the public profession, and external practice
of Christianity ; some by instructing, by having the over-
sight, and taking care of this religious community, the
Church of God. Now this farther shows the importance
of Christianity, and, which i what I chiefly intend, its im-
portance in a practical sense, or the high obligations we are
under, to take it into our most serious consideration : and the
danger there must necessarily be, not only in treating it
despitefully, which I am not now speaking of, but in disre-
garding and neglecting it. For this is neglecting to do
what is expressly enjoined us, for continuing those benefits
to the world, and transmitting them down to future times.
And all this holds, even though the only thing to be consi-
dered in Christianity were its subserviency to natural reli-
gion. But,
II. Christianity is to be considered in a further view, as
comaining an account of a dispensation of things, not at all
discoverable by reason, in consequence of which several dis-
tinct precepts are enjoined us. Christianity is not only
an external institution of natural religion, and a new pro-
* Rev. xxii. 11.
19*
222 OF THE IMPORTANCE [PART II.
mulgation of God's general providence, a? right eons Govoi
nor and Judge of the world ; but it contains al.-o a revelation
of a particular dispensation of Providence, carrying on by
his Son and Spirit, for the recovery and salvation of mankind,
who are represented, in Scripture, to be in a state of ruin
And, in consequence of this revelation being made, we art
commanded to be baptized, not only in the name of the Father,
b a also of the Sun, and of the Holy Ghost ; and other obliga-
tions of duty, unknown before, to the Son and the Holy
Ghost, are revealed. Now, the importance of these duties,
may be judged of, by observing that they arise, not frorr.
positive command merely, but also from the offices which
appear, from Scripture, to belong to those divine persons in
the gospel dispensation, or from the relations which, we are
there informed, they stand in f o us. By reason is revealed
the relation which God the Father stands in to us. Hence
arises the obligation of duty which we are under to him. In
Scripture are revealed the relations which the Son and Holy
Spirit stand in to us. Hence arise the obligations of duty
which we are under to them. The truth of the case, as one
may speak, in each of these three respects, being admitted,
that God is me Governor of the World, upon the evidence of
reason ; that Christ is the Mediator between God and man,
and the Holy Ghost our Guide and Sanctifier, upon the evi-
dence of revelation : the truth of the case, I say, in each of
these respects, being admitted, it is no more a question, why
it should be commanded that we be baptized in the name of
the Son and of the Holy Ghost, than that we be baptized in
the name of the Father. This matter seems to require to
be more fully stated.*
Let it be remembered, then, that religion comes under the
twofold consideration of internal and external ; for the latter
is as real a part of religion, of true religion, as the former.
Now, when religion is considered under the first notion as
an inward principle, to be exerted in such and such inward
acts of the mind and heart, the essence of natural religion
may be said to consist in religious regards to God the Father
Almighty ; and the essence of revealed religion, as distin-
guished fro.n natural, to consist in religious regards to the
Son, and to the Holy Ghost. And the obligation we are un-
der, of paying these religious regards to each of these di-
* See the Nature, Obligation, arid Efficacy, of the Christian Sacra-
ments, &c. and Colliber on Revealed religion, as there quoted.
CHAP. I.] OF CHRISTIANITY.
vine persons respectively, arises from the respective relations
*/fcich they each stand in to us. How these relations are
made known, whether by reason or revelation, makes no al-
teration in the case ; because the duties arise out of the rela-
tions themselves, not out of the manner in which we are in-
formed of them. The Son and Spirit have each his proper
office in that great dispensation of Providence, the redemp-
tion of the world ; the one our Mediator, the other our >anc-
tifier. Does not, then, the duty of religious regards to both
these divine persons, as immediate!}' arise, to the view of
reason, out of the very nature of these offices and relations.
as the inward good will and kind attention, which we owe to
our fellow-creatures, arises out of the common relations be-
tween us and them ? But it will be asked, ' What are the
inward religious regards, appearing thus obviously due to iLe
Son and Holy Spirit, as arising, not merely from command
in Scripture, but from the very nature of the revealed rela-
tions which they stand in to us ?' I answer, the religious
regards of reverence, honor, love, trust, gratitude, fear, hope.
In what external manner this inward worship is to be ex-
pressed, is a matter of pure revealed command ; as perhaps,
the external manner in which God the Father is to be wor-
shipped, may be more so than we are ready to think ; but.
the worship, the internal worship itself, to the Son and Ho-
ly Ghost, is o farther matter of pure revealed command,
than as the relations they stand in to us. are matter of pure
revelation ; for the relations being known, the obligations to
such internal worship are obligations of reason, arising out
of those relations themselves. In short, the history of the
gospel as immediately shows us the reason of these obliga
tions, as it shows us the meaning of the words, Son and Ho-
ly Ghost.
If this account of the Christian religion be just, those per-
sons whocan speak lightly of it, as of little consequence, provi-
ded natural religion be kept to, plainly forget, that Chris-
tianity, even what is peculiarly so called, as distinguished
from natural religion, has yet somewhat very important, even
of a moral nat ure. For the office of our Lord being made known,
find the relation he stands in to us, the obligation of religious
regards to him is plainly moral, as much as charity to man-
kind is ; sincu this obligation arises, before external com-
mand, immediately out of that his office and relation itself.
Those persons appear to forget, that revelation is to be con-
sidered as informing us of somewhat new in the state of man-
224 OF TItE IMPORTANCE [PARl T.
kind, and in the government of the world ; as acquainting 113
with some relations we stand in, which could not otherwise
have been known. And these relations being veal, (though
before revelation we could be under no obligations from them,
jet upon then* being revealed,) there is no reason to think. but
that neglect of behaving suitably to them will be attended
with the same kind of consequences under God's government,
ar neglecting to behave suitably to any other relations made
known to us by reason. And ignorance, whether unavoida-
ble or voluntary, so far as we can possibly see, will,' just as
much, and just as little, excuse in one case as in the other :
the ignorance being supjjosed equally unavoidable, or
equally voluntary, in both cases.
If, therefore, Christ be indeed the Mediator between God
and man, i. e. if Christianity be true; if he be indeed our
Lord, our Saviour, and our God, no one can say what may
follow, not only' the obstinate, but the careless, disregard to
him in those high relations. Nay, no one can say what
may follow such droegard, even in the way of natural con-
sequence.* For, as the natural consequences of vice in this
life are doubtless to be considered as judicial punishments
inflicted by God, so likewise, for aught we know, the judicial
punishments of the future life may be, in a like way, or a
like sense, the natural consequence of vice ;f of men's vio
lating or disregarding the relations which God has placed
them in here, and made known to them.
Again, If mankind are corrupted and depraved in their
moral character, and so are unfit for that state which Christ
is gone to prepare for his disciples ; and if the assistance of
God's Spirit be necessary to renew their nature, in a degree
requisite to their being qualified for that state ; all which iji
implied in the express, though figurative, declaration, Ex
eept a man lie born of the Spirit l he cannot enter into the king
dom of God : J supposing this, is it possible any serious per-
son can think it a slight matter, whether or no he makes
use of the means, expressly commanded by God, for obtain-
ing this divine assistance ? especially since the whole analo-
gy of nature shows, that we are not to expect any benefits,
without making use of the appointed means for obtaining or
enjoying them. Now, reason shows us nothing of the par
ticu*ar immediate means of obtaining either temporal or
* Pages 83, 84. t Chap. 5. t John. iii. i
CHAP. I.] OP CHRISTIANITY.
spiritual benefits. This, therefore, we must learn, eithei
from experience or revelation. And experience the present
case does not admit of.
The conclusion from all this evidently is, that Christianity
being supposed either true or credible, it is unspeakable
irreverence, and really the most presumptuous rashness, to
treat it as a light matter. It can never justly be esteemed
of little consequence, till it be positively supposed false. Nor
do I know a higher and more important obligation which
we are under, than that of examining most seriously into
the evidence of it, supposing its credibility ; and of embrac-
ing it, upon supposition of its truth.
The two following deductions may be proper to be added,
in order to illustrate the foregoing observations, and to pre-
vent their being mistaken.
First, Hence we may clearly see, where lies the distinc-
tion between what is positive and what is moral in religion.
Moral precepts are precepts, the reasons of which we see ;
positive precepts are precepts, the reasons of which we do
not see.* Moral duties arise out of the nature of the case
itself, prior to external command. Positive duties do not
arise out of the nature of the case, but from external com-
mand ; nor would they be duties at all, were it not for such
command received from him, whose creatures and subjects
we are. But the manner in which the nature of the case,
or the fact of the relation, is made known, this doth not de-
nominate any duty, either positive or moral. That we be
baptized in the name of the Father, is as much a positive
duty as that we be baptized in the name of the Son ; be-
cause both arise equally from revealed command : though
the relation which we stand in to God the Father, is made
known to us by reason ; the relation we stand in to Christ,
by revelation only. On the other hand, the dispensation of
the gospel admitted, gratitude as immediately becomes due
to Christ, from his being the voluntary minister of this dis-
pensation, as it is due to God the Father, from his being the
fountain of all good ; though the first is made known to us
l>f revelation only, the second by reason. Hence also we
* This is the distinction between moral and positive precepts, consider-
ed respectively as such. But yet, since the latter have somewhat of a mo-
ral nature, we may see the reason of them considered in this view. Mo-
ral and positive precepts are in some respects alike, in other respects differ-
ent So far as they are alike, we discern the reasons of Loth ; so far aa
they are different, we discern the reasons of the former, but not of the lat-
ter. See p. 189, &c. and p. 196.
226 OF THE IMFORTAHTCE [PAKT II
may see, and, for distinctness sake, it may be worth men-
tioning, that positive institutions come under a twofold con-
sideration. They are either institutions founded on natural
religion, as baptism in the name of the Father ; though this
has also a particular reference to the gospel dispensation-,
for it is in the name of God, as the Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ ; or they are external institutions founded on revealed
religion, as baptism in the name of the Son, and of the Holy
Ghost.
Secondly, From the distinction between what is moral and
vrhat is positive in religion, appears the ground of that pe-
culiar preference, which the Scripture teaches us to be due
to the former.
The reason of positive institutions in general is very obvi-
ous, though we should not see the reason why such parti-
cular ones are pitched upon, rather than others. Whoever,
therefore, instead of cavilling at word?, will a-ttend to the
thing itself, may clearly see, that positive institutions in
general, as distinguished from this or that particular one,
have the nature of moral commands : since the reasons of
them appear. Thus, for instance, the external worship of
God is a moral duty, though no particular mode of it be so.
Care then is to be taken, when a comparison is made be-
tween positive and moral duties, that they be compared no
farther than as they are different, ; no farther than as the
former are positive, or arise out of mere external command,
the reasons of which we are not acquainted with ; and as
the latter are moral, or arise out of the apparent reason of
the case, without such external command. Unless this cau-
tion be observed, we shall run into endless confusion.
Now, this being premised, suppose two standing precepts
enjoined by the same authority ; that, in certain conjunctures
it is impossible to obey both ; that the former is moral, i. e. a
precept of which we see the reasons, and that they hold in
the particular case before us ; but that the latter is positive,
i. e. a precept of which we do not see the reasons : it is in-
disputable that our obligations are to obey the former, because
there is an apparent reason for this preference, and none
against it. Farther, positive institutions. I suppose all those
which Christianity enjoins, are means to a moral end ; and
the end must be acknowledged more excellent than the
means. Nor is observance of these institutions any religious
obedience at all, or of any value, otherwise than as it pro-
ceeds from a moral principle. This seems to be the strict
CHAP. I.] OF CHRISTIANITY. 2*27
logical way of stating and determining this matter ; brut
\\ill, perhaps, be found less applicable to practice, than may
be thought at first sight.
And therefore, in a more practical, though more lax way
of consideration, and taking the words, moral law and posititt
institutions, in the popular sense ; I add, that the whole
moral law is as much matter of revealed command, as po?i
live institutions are; for the scripture enjoins every moiai
virtue. In this respect, then, they are both upon a level.
But the moral law is, moreover, written upon our hearts, in-
terwoven into our very nat me. And this is a plain intima-
tion of the Author of it, which is to be preferred, when they
interfere.
But there is not altogether so much necessity for the de-
termination of this question as some persons seem to think.
Nor are we left to reason alone to determine it. For, frst,
Though mankind have in all ages been greatly prone, to
j)lace their religion in peculiar positive rites, by way of equi-
valent for obedience lo moral precepts ; 3'et, "without making
any comparison at all between them, and consequently with-
out determining which is to have the preference, the nature
of the thing abundantly shows all notions of that kind to be
utterly subversive of true religion ; as they are, moreover,
contrary to th^ whole general tenor of Scripture, and like-
wise to the most express particular declarations of it, that
nothing can render us accepted of God, without moral virtue.
Secondly, Upon the occasion of mentioning together positive
and moral duties, the Scripture always puts the stress of re-
ligion upon the latter, and never upon the former; which,
though no sort of allowance to neglect the former, when they
do not interfere with the Matter, yet is a plain intimation, ihat
when they do, the latter are to be preferred. And, farther,
as mankind are for placing the stress of their religion any
where, rather ihan upon virtue, lest both the reason of the
thing, and ihe general spirit of Christianity, appearing in the
intimation now mentioned, should be inefieciua]"i\gainst. this
prevalent folly : our Lord himself, from whose command
alone the obligation of positive institutions arises, has taken
occasion to make the comparison between them and moral
precepts, when the Pharisees censured him for earing icilh
publicans and sinners ; and also when they censured hi? dis-
ciples for plucking the ears of corn on the ballath day. Upon
this comparison he has determined expressly, and in form,
which shall have the preference when they interfere. And
228 OP TrfE iMPORf ANCE ^PART H.
by delivering his authoritative determination in a proverbial
manner of expression, he has made it general : / will have
mercy } and not sacrifice* The propriety of the word prover-
bial is not ihe thing insisted upon, though, I think, the man-
ner of speaking is to be called so. But that the manner of
spe- iking very remarkably renders the determination general,
id surely indisputable. For, had it, in the latter case, been
said only, that God preferred mercy to the rigid observance
of the Sabbath, even then, by panly of reason, most justly
might, we have argued, that he preferred mercy, likewise, to
the observance of other ritual institutions, and, in general,
moral duties to positive ones. And thus the determination
would have been general, though its being so were inferred,
anJ not expressed. But as the passage really stands in the
gospsl, it is much stronger ; for the sense, and the very lite-
ral words of our Lord r s answer, are as applicable to any
other instance of a comparison, between positive and moral
duties, as to this upon which they were spoken. And if, in
case of competition, mercy is to be preferred to positive in-
stitutions, it will scarce be thought, that justice is to give
place to them. It is remarkable, too, that, as the words are
a quotation from the Old Testament, they are introduced, on
both of the forementioned occasions, with a declaration, that
the Pharisees did not understand the meaning of them. This,
I say, is very remarkable ; for, since it is scarce possible for
the roost ignorant person not to understand the literal sense
of the passage in the Prophet, t and since understanding the
literal sense would not have prevented their, condemning- the
guiltless.^ it can hardly be doubted, that the thing which our
Lord really intended in that declaration was, that the Phari-
sees had not learnt from it, as they might, wherein the gene-
ral spirit of religion consists ; that it consists in moral piety
and virtue, as distinguished from forms and ritual observan-
ces. However, it is certain we may learn this from his di-
vine application of the passage, in the gospel.
But, as it is oneof the peculiarweaknessesof human nature,
when, upon a comparison of two things, one is found to be of
greater importance than the other, to consider this other as
of scarce any ''mportance at all ; it is highly necessary that
we remind ourselves, how great presumption itis to make liffht
* Matt. ix. 13, and xii. 7. T Hos. -n,
* See Matt. xii. 7.
CUAF. I/] OF CHRISTIANITY. 220
of any institutions of divine appointment ; that our obligations
to obey all God's commands whatever, are absolute and in-
dispensable ; and that commands merely positive, admitted
to be from him, lay us under a moral obligation to obey them ;
an obligation moral in the strictest and most proper sense.
To these things I cannot forbear adding, that the account
now given of Christianitj 7 most strongly shows and enforces
upon us the obligation of searching the Scriptures, in order
to see what the scheme of revelation really is instead of deter-
mining beforehand, from reason, what the scheme of it
must be.* Indeed, if in revelation there be found any pas-
sages, the Homing meaning of which is contrary to natural
religion, we may most certainly conclude such seeming
meaning not to be the real one. But it is not any degree of
presumption against an inteipretation of Scriptures, that such
interpretation contains a doctrine, which the light of nature
cannot discover, "f or a precept, which the law of nature does
not oblige to.
* See Chap. 3. t Pages 20^ 206.
230 OF THE SUPPOSED PRESUMPTION pART II.
CHAI TER II.
Of the Supposed Presumption against a Revelation, consid-
ered as Miraculous. ;&
HAVING shown the importance of the Christian revela-
tion, and the obligations which we are under seriously to at-
tend to it, upon supposition of its truth or its credibility ; the
next thing in order is, to consider the supposed presumption?
against revelation in general, which shall be the. subject of
this chapter ; and the objections against the Christian in
particular, which shall be the subject of some following
ones.* For it seems the most, natural method to remove
these prejudices against Christianity, before we proceed to
the consideration of the positive evidence for it, and the ob-
jections against that evidence. "f
It is, I think, commonly supposed, that there is some pe-
culiar presumption, from the analogy of nature, against the
Christian scheme of things, at least against miracles ; so as
that stronger evidence is necessary to prove the truth and
reality of them, 'han wo.ild be sufficient to convince us of
other events or matters of fact. Indeed, the consideration
of this supposed presumption cannot but be thuiight \ery in-
significant by many persons ; yet, as it belongs to the sub
ject of this treatise, so it may tend to open the mind, and re-
move some prejudices ; however needless the consideration
of it be, upon its own account.
I. I find no appearance of a presumption, from the anai-
ogy of nature, against the general scheme of Christianity,
that God created and invisibly governs ihe world by Jesus
Christ, and by him also will hereafter judge it in righteous-
ness, *'. e. render to every one according to his works ; and
that good men are under the secret influence of his Spirit.
- Chap. 3, 4 5, 6 T Chap. 7.
CHAP. II.] AGAINST MIRACLES. 231
Whether these things are, or are not, to be called miraculous,
is, perhaps, only a question about words ; or, however, is of
no moment in the case. If the analogy of nature raises any
presumption against this general scheme of Christianity, it
must be, either because it is not discoverable by reason
or expenence, or else because it is unlike that course of na-
ture, which is. But analogy raises no presumption against
the truth of this scheme, upon either of these accounts.
First, There is no presumption, from analogy, against the
truth of it, upon account of its not being discoverable by
reason or experience. ' For, suppose one who never heard
of revelation, of the most improved understanding, and ac-
quainted with our whole system of natural philosophy and
natural religion ; such a one could not but be sensible, thai
it was but a very small part of the natural and moral system
of the universe, which he was acquainted with. He could
not but be sensible, that there must be innumerable things,
in the dispensations of Providence past, in the invisible go-
vernment over the world at present carrying on, and in what
is to come, of which he was v/ht>dy ignorant,* and which
could not be discovered without revelation. Whether the
scheme of nature be, in the strictest sense, infinite or not, it
is evidently vast, even beyond all possible imagination.
And, doubtless, that part of it which is opened to our view,
is but as a point, in comparison of the whole plan of Provi-
dence, reaching throughout eternity, past and future ; in
comparison of what is even now going on in the remote parts
of the boundless universe ; nay, in comparison of the whole
scheme of this world. And, therefore, that things lie beyond
the natural reach of our faculties, is no sort of presumption
against the truth and reality of them ; because it is certain,
there are innumerable things in the constitution and govern-
ment of the universe, which are thus beyond the natural
reach of our faculties. Secondly, Analogy raises no pre-
sumption against any of the things contained in this general
doctrine of Scripture now mentioned, upon account of their
being unlike the known course of nature. For there is no
presumption at all, from analogy, that the whole course of
things, or divine government, naturally unknown to us, and
every thing in it, is like to any thing in that which is known ;
and therefore no peculiar presumption against ai.y thing in
ihe former, upon account of its being unlike to any thing in
* Page 170.
232 OP THE SUPPOSED PRESUMPTION [FART II.
the latter. And in the constitution and natural government
of the world, as well as in the moral government of it, we
see things, in a great degree, unlike one another : and there-
fore ought not to wonder at such unlikeness between things
visible and invisible. However, the scheme of Christianity
is by no means entirely unlike the scheme of nature ; as will
appear in the following part of this treatise.
The notion of a miracle, considered as a proof of a di-
vine mission, has been stated with great exactness by di-
vines ; and is, 1 think, sufficiently understood by every one.
There are also invisible miracles ; the incarnation of Christ,
for instance, which, being secret, cannot be alledged as a
proof of such a mission ; but require themselves to be pro-
ved by visible miracles. Revelation, itself, too, is miraculous
and miracles are the proof of it; and the supposed presump-
tion against these shall presently be considered. All whiu.
I have been observing here is, that, whether we choose to
call every thing in the dispensations of Providence, not dis-
coverable without revelation, nor like the known course of
things, miraculous ; and whether the general Christian dis-
pensation now mentioned, is to be called so, or not ; the fore-
going observations seem certainly to show, that there is no
presumption against it, from the analogy of nature.
II. There is no presumption, from analogy, against some
operations, which we should now call miraculous ; particu-
larly, none against a revelation, at the beginning- of the
world; nothing of such presumptions against it, as is sup-
posed to be implied or expressed in the word miraculous.
For a miracle, in its very notion, is relative to a course of
nature ; and implies somewhat different from it, considered
as being so. Now, either there was no course of nature at
the time which we are speaking of; or if there were, we are
not acquainted what the course of nature is upon the first
peopling of worlds. And therefore the question, whether
mankind had a revelation made to them at that time is to be
considered, not as a question concerning a miracle, but as a
co.nuion question of fact. And we have the like reason, be
it more or less, to admit the report of tradition concerning
this question and concerning common matters of fact of the
same antiquity ; for instance, what part of the earth waa
first peopled.
Or thus : When mankind was first placed in this state,
there was a power exerted, totally different from the present
Bourse of nature. Now, whether this power, thus wholly
CHAP. II.] AGAINST MIRACLES. 233
different from the present course of nature ; for we cannot
properly apply to it the word miraculous ; whether this power
stopped immediately after it had made man, or went on, and
exerted itself farther in giving him a revelation, is a question
of the same kind, as whether an ordinary power exerted itself
in such a particular degree and manner, or not.
Or suppose the power exerted in the formation of the world
he considered as miraculous, or rather, be called by the name,
the case will not be different ; since it must be acknowledged,
that such a power was exertod. For supposing it acknow-
ledged that our Saviour spent some years in a course of
working miracles ; there is no more presumption, worth men-
tioning, against his having exerted this miraculous power,
in a certain degree greater, than in a certain degree less ; in
one or two more instances, than in one or two fewer ; in this,
than in another manner.
It is evident, then, that therecan be nopeculiarpresumption,
from the analogy of nature, against supposing a revelation,
when man was first placed upon the earth.
Add, that there does not appear the least intimation in
history or tradition, that religion was first reasoned out ; but
the whole of history and tradition makes for the other side,
that it came into the world by revelation. Indeed, the state
of religion in the first ages, of which we have any account
seems to suppose and imply, that Ihis was the original of
it amongst mankind. And these reflections together, with-
out taking in the peculiar authority of Scripture, amount to
real and very material degree of evidence, that there was a
revelation at the beginning of the world. Now this, as it is
a confirmation of natural religion, and therefore mentioned in
the former part of this treatise ;* so, likewise, it has a ten-
dency to remove any prejudices against a subsequent revela-
tion.
III. But still it may be objected, that there is some pecu-
liar presumption from analogy, against miracles ; particular-
ly against revelation, after the settlement and during the
continuance of a course of nature.
Now, with regard to this supposed presumption, it is to
be observed in general, that before we can have ground foi
raising what can, with any propriety, be called an arg mem
from analogy, for or against revelation considered as some
what miraculous, we must be acquainted with a similar or
* Page 163, &c.
20*
234 Of THE SUPPOSED PRESUMPTION [PART II
parallel case. But the history of some other world, seemingly
in like circumstances with our own, is no more than a parallel
case ; and therefore nothing short of this can be so. Yet,
could we come at a presumptive proof, for or against a reve-
lation, from being informed whether such world had one, or
not j such a proof, being drawn from one single instance
only, must be infinitely precarious. More particularly : First
of all, There is a very strong presumption against common
speculative truths, and against the most ordinary fads, before
the proof of them ; which yet is overcome by almost any
proof. There is a presumption of millions to one, against the
story of Ccesar, or of any other man. For suppose a number
of common facts so and so circumstanced, of which one had
no kind of proof, should happen to come into one's thoughts ;
every one would, without any possible doubt, conclude them
to be false. And the like may be said of a single common
fact. And from hence it appears, that the question of im-
portance, as to the matter before us, is, concerning the Jegvee
of the peculiar presumption supposed against miracles j not
whether there be any peculiar presumption at all against
them. For, if there be the presumption of millions to one.
against the most common facts, what can a small presump-
tion, additional to this, amount to, though it be peculiar ? It
cannot be estimated, and is as nothing. The only material
question is, whether there be any such presumption against
miracles, as to render them in any sort incredible 1 Secondly,
If we leave out the consideration of religion, we are in such
total darkness, upon what causes, occasions, reasons, or cir-
cumstances, the present course of nature depends, that there
does not appear any improbability for or against supposing,
that five or six thousand years rnay have given scope for
causes, occasions, reasons, or circumstances, from whence
miraculous interpositions may have arisen. And from this,
joined with the foregoing observation, it will follow, that there
must be a presumption, beyond all comparison, greater, against
the particular common facts just now instanced in, lhan
against miracles in general ; before any evidence of either.
But, thirdly, Take in the consideration of religion, or the
moral system of the world, and then we see distinct particu-
lar reasons for miracles ; to afford mankind instruction addi-
tional to that of nature, and to attest the truth of it. And
thio gives a real credibility to the supposition, that it might be
part of the original plan of things, that there should be mi-
raculous intei positions. Then. lasliy, Miracles imist not be
CHAP. II.] AGAINST MIRACLES. 235
compared to common natural events ; or to events which,
though uncommon, are similar to what we daily experience ;
but to the extraordinary phenomena of nature. And then
the comparison will be, between the presumption against
miracles, and the presumption against such uncommon ap-
pearances, suppose, as comets, and against there being any
such powers in nature as magnetism and electricity, so con-
trary to the properties of other bodies not endued with these
powers. And before any one can determine, whether there
be any peculiar presumption against miracles, more than
against other extraordinary things, he must consider, what,
upon first hearing, would be the presumption against the last
mentioned appearances and powers, to a person acquainted
only with the daily, monthly, and annual course of nature
respecting this earth, and with those common powers of
matter which we every day see.
Upon all this I conclude, That there certainly is no such
presumption against miracles, as to render them in any wise
incredible ; that, on the contrary, our being able to discern
reasons for them, gives a positive credibility to the history of
them, in cases where those reasons hold ; and that it is by
no means certain, that there is any peculiar presumption at
all, from analogy, even in the lowest degree, against miracles,
as distinguished from other extraordinary phenomena ; though
it is not worth while to perplex the reader with inquiries into
the abstract nature of evidence, in order to determine a ques-
tion, which, without such inquiries, we see* is of no impor-
tance.
* Page 180.
<, .
^ _ * " 1 ^^^
: .., > .:-.- - -> V. ., -;.. M,..
236 THE CREDIBILITY OP REVELATION [PART II.
CHAPTER III.
Of our Incapacity of Judging, what were to be expected tn
a Revelation ; and the Credibility from Analogy, I hat it
must contain Things appearing liable to Objections.
BESIDES the objections against the evidence for Christianity,
many are alleged against the scheme of it ; against the whole
manner in which it is put and left with the world ; as well as
against several particular relations in Scripture : objections
drawn from the deficiencies of revelation : from things in it ap-
pearing to men foolishness;* from its containing matters of
offence, which have led, and it must have been foreseen,
would lead, into strange enthusiasm and superstition, and be
made to serve the purposes of tyranny and wickedness ; from
its not being universal ; and, which is a thing of the same
kind, from its evidence not being so convincing and satisfac
tor}' as it might have been ; for this last is sometimes turned
uVo a positive argument against its truth.f It would be te
dious, indeed impossible, to enumerate the several particulars
comprehended under the objections here referred to, they
being so various, according to the different fancies of men.
There are persons, who think it a strong objection against
the authority of Scripture, that it is not composed by rules of ,
art, agreed upon by critics, for polite and correct writing.
And the scorn is inexpressible, with which some of the pro-
phetic parts of Scripture are treated; partly through the
rashness of interpreters, but ve~y much also on account of the
hieroglyphical and figurative language in which they are
left us. Some of the principal things of this sort shall be
particularly considered in the following chapters. But my
design at present is to observe, in general, with respect to this
whole way of arguing, that, upon supposition of a revelation,
* 1 Cor. i. 18. t See Chap. 6.
CBAt. III.] LlAlJLE TO ABJECTION'S. 37
it is highly credible beforehand, we should be incompetent
juilLrt's of it, to a great degree; and that it would contain
many things appearing to us liable to great objections, in case
wo judge of it otherwise than by the analogy of nature. And,
therefore, though objections against the evidence of Chris-
tianity are more seriously to be considered, yet objections
against Christianity itself are, in a great measure, frivolous;
almost all objections against it, excepting those which are al-
leged against the particular proofs of its coming from God
I express myself with caution, lest I should be mistaken to
vilify reason, which is indeed the only faculty we have
w herewith to judge concerning any thing, even revelation
itself; or be misunderstood to assert, that a supposed revela-
t'^n cannot be proved false from internal characters. For,
it ,-uiy contain clear immoralities or contradictions ; and either
of nese would prove it false. Nor will I take upon me to
artn'u, that nothing else can possibly render any supposed
reve.ation incredible. Yet still the observation above is, I
think, true beyond doubt, that objections against Christianity,
as distinguished from objections against its evidence, are
frivol" >us. To make out this, is the general design of ihe
prose- it chapter. And, with regard to the whole of it, I can-
not but particularly wish, that the proofs might be attended
to, rather than the assertions cavilled at, upon account of any
unacceptable consequences, whether real or supposed, which
may be drawn from them. For after all, that which is true,
must be admitted ; though it should show us the shortness of
our faculties, and that we are in nowise judges of many
tilings of which we are apt to think ourselves very compe-
tent ones. Nor will this be any objection with reasonable
men ; at least, upon second thought, it will net be any objec-
tion wilh such, against the justness of the following observa-
tions.
As God governs the world, and instructs his creatures, ac-
cording to certain laws or rules, in the known course of na-
tuie, known by reason together with experience; so the
Scripture informs us of a scheme of divine Providence, addi-
tional to this. It relates, that God has, \)y revelation, in-
structed men in things concerning his government, which
they could not otherwise have known, and reminded them of
things which they might otherwise know ; and attested the
truth of the whole by miracles. Now, if the natural and the
revealed dispensation of things are both from God, if they
coincide with each other, and together make up one scheme
238 THE CREDIBILITY OF REVELATION [PART II.
of ProviJence, our being incompetent judges of one, must
renr'prit credible that we may be incompetent judges also of
the other. Since, upon experience, the acknowledged con- p
stitudcn and course of nature is found to be greatly different
from whet, before experience, would have been expected;
and such -is, men fancy, there lie great objections against :
This lendois it beforehand highly credible, that they may
find the revealed dispensation likewise, if they judge of it as
they do of the constitution of nature, very different from ex-
pectations formed beforehand ; and liable, in appearance, to
great objections : objections against the scheme itself, and
against the degrees and. manners of the miraculous* interposi-
tions, by which it was attested and carried on Thus, sup-
pose a prince to govern his dominions in the wisest manr*r
possible, by common known laws ; and that upon some xi-
gencies he should suspend these laws, and govern, in several
instances, in a different manner : if one of his subjects were
not a competent judge beforehand, by what common rules
the government should or would be carried on, it could not. be
expected that the same person would be a competent judge,
in what exigencies, or in what manner, or to what dugree,
those laws commonly observed would be suspended or de-
viated from. If he were not a judge of the wisdom of the
ordinary administration, there is no reason to think he would
be a judge of the wisdom of the extraordinary. F he thought
he had objections against the former, doubtless, it is highly
supposable, he might think also, that he had objections
against the latter. And thus, as we fall into infinite follies
and mistakes, whenever we pretend, otherwise than from ex-
perience and analogy, to judge of the constitution and course
of nature, it is evidently supposable beforehand, that we should
fall into as great, in pretending to judge, in like manner, con-
cerning revelation. Nor is there any more ground to expect
.hat this latter should appear to us clear of objections, than
(hat the former should.
These observations, relating to the whole of Christianity,
ire applicable to inspiration in particular. As we are in no
sort judsres beforehand, by what laws or rules, in what degree,
or by what means, it were to have been expected that God
would naturally instruct us; so, upon supposition of his
affording us light and instruction by revelation, additional to
what he has afforded us by reason and experience, we e: e. in
no sort judges, by what methods, and in what proportion, it
were to be expected that this supernatural light and instruc-
CHAP. III.] LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS 239
tion would be afforded us. We know not beforehand, what
degree or kind of natural information it were to be expected
God would afford men, each by his own reason and experi-
ence ; nor how far he would enable, and effectually dispose
them to communicate it, whatever it should be, to each other ;
nor whether the evidence of it would be certain, highly pro-
bable, or doubtful ; nor whether it would be given with equal
clearness and conviction to all. Nor could we guess, upon
any good ground I mean, whether natural knowledge, or
even the faculty itself by which we are capable of attaining
it, reason, would be given us at once, or gradually. In like
manner, we are wholly ignorant what degree of new know-
ledge it were to be expected God would give mankind by
revelation, upon supposition of his affording one ; or how far,
or in what way, he would interpose miraculously, to qualify
them, to whom he should originally make the revelation, for
communicating the knowledge given by it ; and to secure
their doing it to the age in which they should live, and to
secure its being tranpmitted to posterity. We are equally
ignorant, whether the evidence of it would be certain, or
nighly probable, or doubtful ;* or whether all who should
have any degree of instruction from it, and any degree of evi-
dence of its truth, would have the same ; or whether the
scheme would be revealed at once, or unfolded gradually
Nay, we are not in any sort able to judge, whether it were to
have been expected, that the revelation should have been
committed to writing ; or left to be handed down, and conse-
quently corrupted, by verbal tradition, and at length sunk
under it, if mankind so pleased, and during such tinre as they
are permitted, in the degree they evidently are, to act as they
will
But it may be said, ' that a revelation in some of the
above-mentioned circumstances ; one, for instance, which was
not committed to writirg, and thus secured against danger of
corruption, would not have answered its purpose.' I ask,
what purpose ? It would not have answered all the purposes
which it has now answered, and in the same degree ; but it
would have answered others, or the same in different degrees.
And which of these were the purposes of God, and best fell
in with his general government, we could not at all have de-
termined beforehand.
Now since it has been shown, that we have no principles
* See Chap. 6.
240 THE CREDIBILITY OF REVELATION [FART II.
of reason upon which to judge beforehand, how it were to be
expected revelation should have been left, or what was most
suitable to the divine plan of government, in any of the fore-
mentioned respects ; it must be quite frivolous to object after-
wards as to any of them, against its being left in one way,
rather than another; for this would be to object against
things, upon account of their being different from expecta-
tions which have been shown to be without reason. And
thus we see, that the only question concerning the truth of
Christianity is, whether it be a real revelation ; not whether
it be attended with every circumstance which we should
have looked for : and concerning the authority of Scripture,
whether it be what it claims to be ; not whether it be a book
of such sort, and so promulged, as weak men are apt to
fancy a book containing a divine revelation should. And
therefore neither obscurity, nor seeming inaccuracy of style,
nor various readings, nor early disputes about the authors of
particular parts, nor any other things of the like kind, though
they had been much more considerable in degree than they
are, could overthrow the authority of the Scripture ; unless
the Prophets, Apostles, or our Lord, bad promised, that the
book, containing the divine revelation, should be secure from
those things. Nor indeed can any objections overthrow such
a kind of revelation as the Christian claims to be, since there
are no objections against the morality of it,* but such as can
show, that there is no proof of miracles wrought originally in
attestation of it ; no appearance of any thing miraculous in
its obtaining in the world ; nor any of prophecy, that is,
of events foretold, which human sagacit} r could not foresee
If it can be shown, that the proof alleged for all these is ab-
solutely none at all, then is revelation overturned. But were
it allowed, that the proof of any one, or all of them, is lower
than is allowed ; yet whilst any proof of them remains, reve-
lation will stand upon much the same foot it does at present,
as to all the purposes of life and practice, and ought to have
the like influence upon our behaviour.
From the foregoing observations, too, it will follow, ano
those who will thoroughly examine into revelation will find
it worth remarking, that there are several ways of arguing,
which, though just with regard to other writings, are not ap-
plicable to Scripture ; at least not to the prophetic parts of it.
We cannot argue, for instance, that this cannot be the sense
+ Page 192.
CHAP. III.] LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS. 241
or intent of such a passage of Scripture, for if it had, it would
have been expressed more plainly, or have been represented
under a more apt figure or hieroglyphic ; yet we may justly
argue thus, with respect to common books. And the reason
of this difference is very evident ; that in Scripture we are not
competent judges, as we are in common books, how plainly
it were to have been expected, what is the true sense should
have been expressed, or under how apt an image figured,
The only question is, what appearance there is that this is
the sense ? and scarce at all, how much more determinately
or accurately it might have been expressed or figured ?
' But is it not self-evident, that internal improbabilities of
all kinds, weaken external probable proof ?' Doubtless. But
to what practical purpose can this be alleged here, when it
has been proved before,* that real internal improbabilities,
which rise even to moral certainty, are overcome by the most
ordinary testimony ? and when it now has been made appear,
that we scarce know what are improbabilities, as to the mat-
ter we are here considering ? as it will farther appear from
what follows.
For though, from the observations above made, it is mani-
fest, that we are not in any sort competent judges, what su-
pernatural instruction were to have been expected ; and
though it is self-evident, that the objections of an incompetent
judgment must be frivolous ; yet it may be proper to go one
step farther, and observe, that if men will be regardless of
these things, and pretend to judge of the Scripture by pre-
conceived expectations, the analogy of nature shows before
aand, not only that it is highly credible they may, but also
orobable that they will, imagine they have strong objections
against it, however really unexceptionable : for so, prior to
experience, they would think they had, against the circum-
stances, and degrees, and the whole manner of that instr.ic
tion, which is afforded by the ordinary course of nature
\Vere the instruction which God affords to brute creatures by
instincts and mere propensions, and to mankind by these to
gether with reason, matter of probable proof, and not of cer
tain observation, it would be rejected as incredible, in many
instances of it, only upon account of the means by which this
instruction is given, the seeming disproportions, the limita-
tions, necessary conditions, and circumstances of it. For in-
stance : Would it not have been thought highly improbable,
+ Page ISO.
242 THE CREDIBILITY OF REVELATION [PART II.
that men should have been so much njore capable of disco-
vering, even to certainty, the general laws of matter, and the
magnitudes, paths, and revolutions of the heavenly bodies ;
than the occasions and cures of distempers, and many other
things, in which human life seems so much more nearly con-
cerned, than in astronomy ? How capricious and irregular a
way of information, would it be said, is that of invention, ty
means of which nature instructs us in matters of science, and
in many things upon which the affairs of the world greatly
depend ; that a man should, by this faculty be made ac-
quainted with a thing in an instant, when, perhaps, he is
hinking of somewhat else, which he has in vain been search-
ing after, it may be, for years. So likewise the imperfections
attending the only method by which nature enables and di-
rects us to communicate our thoughts to each other, are in-
numerable. Language is, in its very nature, inadequate,
ambiguous, liable to infinite abuse, even from negligence ;
and so liable to it from design, that every man can deceive
and betray by it. And, to mention but one instance more,
that brutes, without reason, should act, in many respects,
with a sagacity and foresight vastly greater than what men
have in those respects, would be thought impossible. Yet it
is certain they do act .with such superior foresight ; whether
it be their own, indeed, is another question. From these
things it is highly credible beforehand, that upon supposition
God should afford men some additional instruction by revela-
tion, it would be with circumstances, in manners, degrees,
and respects, which we should be apt to fancy we had great
objections against the credibility of. Nor are the objections
against the Scripture, nor against Christianity in general, at
all more or greater than the analogy of natiire would before-
hand, not perhaps give ground to expect ; for this analogy
may not be sufficient, in some cases, to ground an expecta-
tion upon ; but no more nor greater, than analogy would
show it, beforehand, to be supposable and credible, that there
might seem to lie against revelation.
By applying these general observations to a particular oK
jcction, it will be%iore distinctly seen, how they are applica-
ble to others of the like kind ; and indeed to almost all ob-
jections against Christianity, as distinguished from objections
against its evidence. It appears from Scripture, that as it was
not unusual, in the apostolic age, for persons, upon their con-i
version to Christianity, to be endued with miraculous gifts
wo, some, of, those persons exercfoed these gifts in a strangely
CHAP. HI.] LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS. 243
irregular and disorderly manner : and this is made an objec-
tion against their being really miraculous. Mow, the lore-
going observations quite remove this objection, how consider-
able soever it may appear at first sight. For, consider a per-
son endued with any of these gifts, for instance, that of
tongues ; it is to be supposed, that he had the same power
over this miraculous gii't, as he would have had over it, ha/t
it been the effect of habit, of study, ana use, as it ordinarily
is ; or the same power over it, as he had over any other na-
tural endowment. Consequently, he would use it in the same
manner he did any other ; either regularly and upon propei
occasions only, or irregularly and upon improper ones ; ac-
cording to his sense of decency, and his character of prudence.
Where, then, is the objection ? Why, if this miraculous pow-
er was indeed given to the world to propagate Christianity
and attest the truth of it, we might, it seems, have expected,
that other sort of persons should have been chosen to be in
vested with it ; or that these should, at the same time, have
been endued with prudence ; or that they should have been
continually restrained and directed in the exercise of it ; *. e.
that God should have miraculously interposed, if at all, in a
different manner or higher degree. But, from the observa-
tions made above, it is undeniably evident, that we are not
judges in what degrees and manners it were to have been ex-
pected he should miraculously interpose ; upon supposition
of his doing it in some degree and manner. Nor, in the na-
tural course of Providence, are superior gifts of memory, elo-
quence, knowledge, and othei talents of great influence, con-
ferred only on persons of prudence and decency, or such as
are disposed to make the properest use of them. Nor is the
instruction and admonition natural!}' afforded us for the co-
duct of life, partie^rly in our education, commonly given in
a manner the moW suited to recommend it; but often with
circumstances, apt to prejudice us against such instruction.
One might go on to add, that there is a great resemblance
between theligrht of nature and of revelation, in several other
respects. Practical Christianity, or that faith and behaviour
which renders a man a Christian, is a plain and obvious
thin? ; like the common rules of conduct, with respect to our
ordinary temporal affairs. The more distinct and particular
knowledge of those things, the study of which the AposMa
calls, going on unto perfection* and of the prophetic parts
* Heb. VL 1.
244 THE CREDIBILITY OP REVELATION [PART It
of levelation, like many parts of natural and even civil know-
ledge, may require very exact thought and careful considera-
tion. The hinderances, too, of natural and of supernatural
light and knowledge, have been of the same kind. And as
it is owned the whole scheme of Scripture is not yet under-
stood, so, if it ever comes to bo understood, before the restitu-
tion of all things,* and without miraculous interpositions, it
must be in the same way as natural knowledge is come at ,
by the continuance and progress of learning and of liberty,
and by particular persons, attending to, comparing and pur-
suing, intimations scattered up and down it, which are over-
looked and disregarded by the generality of the world. Foi
this is the way in which all improvements are made ; by
thoughtful men tracing on obscure hints, as it were, dropped
us by nature accidentally, or which seem to come into our
minds by chance. Nor is it at all incredible, that a book, which
has been so long in the possession of mankind, should con-
tain many truths as yet undiscovered. For, all the same
phenomena, and the same faculties of investigation, from
which such great discoveries in natural knowledge have been
made in the present and last age, were equally in the pos-
session of mankind several thousand years before. And pos-
sibly it might be intended, that events, as they come 10 puss,
should open and ascertain the meaning of several parts of
Scripture.
It may be objected, that this analog}^ fails in a material re-
spect ; for that natural knowledge is of little or no conse-
quence. But I have been speaking of the general instruction,
which nature does or does not afford us. And besides, some
parts of natural knowledge, in the more common restrained
sense of the words, are of the greatest consequence to the
ease and convenience of life. But suppose the analogy did.
as it does not, fail in this respect, yet it mignt be abundantly
supplied from the whole constitution ond course of natuir ;
which shows, that God does not dispense his gifts sicconling
to our notions of the advantage and consequence they would
be of to us. And this in general, with his method of dis-
pensing knowledge in particular, would together make out
an analogy full to the point before us.
But it may be objected still farther, and more generally
'The Scripture represents the world as in a state of rain, and
Christianity as an expedient to recover it, to help in these ic-
* Acts iii. 21.
en A?. HI.] LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS. 245
apects where nature fails ; in porticular to supply the deficien-
cies of natural light. Is it credible, then, that so many ages
should huve been let pass, before a matter of such a sort, of
so great and so general importance, was made known to man-
kind ; and then that it should be made known to so small a
part of them 1 Is it conceivable, that this supply should be
so very deficient, should have the like obscurity and doubtful-
ness, be liable to the like perversions, in short, lie opon to all
the like objections, as the light of nature itself?'* Without
determining how far this in fact is so, I answer, it is by no
means incredible that it might be so, if the light of nature and
of revelation be from the same hand. Men are naturally liable
to diseases ; for which God, in his good providence, has pro-
vided natural remedies. f But remedies existing in nature
have been unknown to mankind for many ages ; are known
but to few now ; probably many valuable ones are not known
yet. Great has been, and is, the obscurity and difficulty, in
the nature and application of them. Circumstances seem
often to make them very improper, where they are absolutely
necessary. It is after long labor and study, and many unsuc-
cessful endeavours, that they are brought to be as useful as
they are ; after high contempt and absolute rejection of the
most useful we have ; and after disputes and doubts, which
have seemed to be endless. The best remedies, too, when
unskilfully, much more if dishonestly, applied, may produce
new diseases ; and, with the lightest application, the success
of them is often doubtful. In many cases, they are not at
all effectual ; where they are, it is often very slowly : and the
application of them, and the necessary regimen accompany-
ing it, is, not uncommonly, so disagreeable, that some will
not submit to them ; and satisfy themselves with the excuse,
that if they would, it is not certain whether it would be suc-
cessful. And many persons, who labor under diseases, for
which there are known natural remedies, are not so happy as
to be always, if ever, in the way of them. In a word, the
remedies which nature has provided for diseases, are neither
certain, perfect, nor universal. And indeed the same princi-
ples of arguing, which would lead us to conclude that they
must be so, would lead us likewise to conclude that there could
be no occasion for them ; i. e. that there could be no diseases
at all. And, therefore, our experience that there are diseases,
shows, that it is credible beforehand, upon supposition nature
* Chap. 6. f See Chap. 5.
21*
246 THE CREDIBILITY OP REVELATION [PART 11.
has provided remedies for them, that these remedies may be,
as by exp^riance we find they are, not certain, nor perfect, nor
universal ; because it shows, that the principles upon which
we should expect the contrary, are fallacious.
And noWj what is the just consequence from all these
things ? Not that reason is no judge of what is oiFered to us as
being of divine revelation. For this would be to infer, that we
are unable to judge of any thing, because we are unable to
judge of all things. Reason can, and it ought to judge,
not only of the meaning, but also of the morality and the
evidence, of revelation. First, It is the province of rea-
son to judge of the morality of the Scripture ; i. e. not whe-
ther it contains things different from what we should have
expected from a wise, just and good Being ; for objections
from hence have been now obviated ; but whether it contains
things plainly contradictory to wisdom, justice, or goodness; to
what the light of nature teaches us of God. And I know no-
thing of this sort objected against Scripture; excepting such ob-
jections as are formed upon suppositions, which would equally
conclude, that the constitution of nature is contradictory to
wisdom, justice, or goodness ; which most certainly it is not.
Indeed, there are some particular precepts in Scripture, given
to particular persons, requiring actions, which would be im-
moral and vicious, were it not for such precepts. But it is
easy to see, that all these are of such a kind, as that the pre-
cept changes the whole nature of the case and of the ac-
tion ; and both constitutes and shows that not to be unjust or
immoral, which, prior to the precept, must have appeared and
really have been so: which may well be, since none of these
precepts are contrary to immutable morality. If it were com-
manded, to cultivate the principles, and act from the spirit of
treachery, ingratitude, cruelty ; the command would not alter
the nature of the case, or of the action in any of these instan-
ces. But it is quite otherwise in precepts which require only
the doing an external action ; for instance, taking away the
property or life of any. For men have no right to either life
or property, but what arises solely from the grant of God.
When this grant is revoked, they cease to have any rights at
ail in either ; and when this revocation is made known, as
surelyit is possible it may be, it must cease to be unjust to
deprive them of either. And though a course of external
acts, which without command would be immoral, must make
an immoral habit, yet a few detached commands have no such
CHAP. III.] LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS. 247
natural tendency. I thought proper to say thus much of the
few Scripture precepts, which require, not vicious actions,
but actions which would have been vicious, had it not 'been
for such precepts ; because they are sometimes weakly urged
as unmoral, and great weight is laid upon objections drawn
from them. But to me there seems no difficulty at all in
these precepts, but what arises from their being offences ;
i. e. from their being liable to be perverted, as indeed they
are, by wicked designing men, to serve the most horrid pur-
poses, and perhaps, to mislead the weak and enthusiastic. And
objections from this head are not objections against revela-
tion, but against the whole notion of religion, as a trial ; and
against the general constitution of nature. Secondly, Rea-
son is able to judge, and must, of the evidence of revelation,
and of the objections urged against that evidence ; which
shall be the subject of a following chap?er.*
But the consequence of the foregoing observations is, that
the question upon which the truth of Christianity depends, is
scarce at all, what objections there are against its scheme,
since there are none against the morality of it ; but what ob-
jections there are against its evidence : or, ichat proof there
remains of it, after due allowances made for the objections
against that proof. Because it has been shown, that the ob-
jections against Christianity, as distinguished from objections
against its evidence, are frivolous. For surely very little
weight, if any at all, is to be laid upon a way of arguing and
objecting, which, when applied to the general constitution of
nature, experience shows not to be conclusive: and such,Ithink,
is the whole way of objecting treated of throughout this chap-
ter. It is resolvable into principles, and goes upon suppositions,
which mislead us to think, that the Author of nature would
not act, as we experience he does ; or would act, in such and
such cases, as we experience he does not in like cases. But
the unreasonableness of this way of objecting will appear
yet more evidently from hence, that the chief things thus ob-
jected against, are justified, as shall be farther shown,!" by
distinct, particular, and full analogies, in the constitution and
course of nature.
But it is to be remembered, that as frivolous as objections
of the foregoing sort against revelation are, yet, when a sup-
posed revelation is more consistent with itself, and has a
* Chap. 7. t Chap. 4, latter part; and 5, 6.
THE CREDIBILITY OP REVELATION, &C. [PART 11.
more general and uniform tendency to promote virtue, than,
all circumstances considered, could have been expected from
enthusiam and political views ; this is a presumptive proof of
its not proceeding from them, and so of its truth ; because
we are competent judges, what might have been expected
from enthusiasm and political views.
CHAP. IV.] CHRISTIANITY AS A SCHEME, &C. 249
CHAPTER IV.
Of Christianity, considered as a Scheme or Constitution,
imperfectly comprehended.
It hath been now shown,* that the analogy of nature ren-
ders it highly credible beforehand, that, supposing a revelation
to be made, it must contain many things very different from
what we should have expected, and such as appear open to
great objections ; and that this observation, in good measure,
takes off the force of those objections, or rather precludes them.
But it may be alleged, that this is a very partial answer to
sucli objections, or a very unsatisfactory way of obviating
them : because it doth not show at all, that the things object-
ed against can be wise, just, and good ; much less, that it
is credible they are- so. It will therefore be proper to show
this distinctly, by applying to these objections against the wis-
dom, justice, and goodness of Christianity, the answer abovef
given to the like objections against the constitution of nature ;
before we consider the particular analogies in the latter, to the
particular things objected against in the former. Now, that
which affords a putn"ciejifc-"answer to objections against the
wisdom, justice, and- goodness of the constitution of nature,
ts its being a constitution, 'a system or scheme, imperfectly
comprehended ; a scheme, in which means are made use of
10 accomplish ends ; and which is carried on by general laws,
for, from these-tl ling's it has been proved, not only to be pos-
sible, but ateo to be credible, that those things which are ob-
ected against, may be consistent with wisdom, justice, and
goodness ; nay, may be instances of them : and even that
,he constitution and government of nature may be perfect in
i-he highest possible degree. If Christianity, then, be a scheme,
And of the like kind, it is evident, the like objections against
it must admit of : the like answer. And,
* In the foregoing Chapter.
f Part i. Chap. 7, to which this all along refert.
250 CHRISTIANITY A SCHEME {_PAK1' .
I. Christianity is a scheme, quite beyond our comprehen-
sion. The moral government of God is exercised, by g-ni Du-
ally conducting things so in the course of his providence, thai
every one, at length, and upon the whole, shall receive accord-
ing to his deserts ; and neither fraud nor violence, but truth
and right, shall finally prevail. Christianity is a particular
scheme under this general plan of providence, and a part of it,
conducive to its completion, with regaro 1 to mankind ; consist-
ing itself also of various parts, and a mysterious economy
which, has been carrying on from the time ths world came
into its present wretched state, and is still carrying on, for its
recovery, by a divine person, the Messiah ; ' who is to gather
together in ou, the children of God that are scattered abroad,'*
and establish ' an everlasting kingdom, wherein dwellelh
righteousness. '"} And in order to it, after various manifesta-
tions of things, relating to this great and general scheme oi
Providence, through a succession of many ages ; (' for the
Spirit of Christ, which was in the prophets, testified before-
hand his sufferings, and the glory that should follow : unto
whom it was revealed, that not unto themselves, but unto us,
they did minister the things which are now reported unto us by
them that have preached the gospel; which things the angels
desire to look into:'J) after various dispensations, looking
forward and preparatory to this final salvation, ' In the fulness
of time,' when infinite wisdom thought fit, He, ' being in the
form oi' God, made himself of no reputation, and took upon
himself the form of a servant, and was made in th > likeness
of men ; and being found in fashion as a man, he humbled
himself, and became obedient to death, even the death of the
cross: wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and
given him a name which is above every name ; that at the
name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven,
and things in the earth, and things under the earth ; and that
every tongue should confess, that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the
glory of God the Father.' Parts likewise of this economy,
are the miraculous mission of the Holy Ghost, and his ordi-
nary assistances given to good men ; the invisible government
which Christ at present exercises over his Church ; that which
he himself refers to in these words, || 'In my father's house
are many mansions I go to prepare a place for you ;' and
his future return to 'judge the world in righteousness, and
* John xi. 52. + 2 Pet. iii. IS.
1 1 Pet. 1. 11, 12. JPhil.H.
K John xiv. 8.
CHAP. IV.] IMPERFECTLY COMPREHENDED. 2j|
completely re-establish the kingdom of God. ' For the Fa-
ther judgeth no man ; but hath committed all judgment untc
the Son : that all men should honour the Son, even as they
honour the Father.* All power is given unto him in heaven
and in earth."f And he must reign, till he hath put all ene-
mies under his feet. Then cometh the end, when he shall
have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Father ;
when he, shall have put down all rule, and all authority and
power. And when all things shall be subdued unto him,
then shall the Son also himself be subject unto him that put
all things under him, that God may be all in all.'J Now
little, surely, need be said to show, that this system, or scheme
of things, is but imperfectly comprehended by us. The
Scripture expressly asserts it to be so. And, indeed, one
cannot read a passage relating to this ' great mystery of
go<liiness,' but what immediately runs up into something
which shows us our ignorance in it ; as every thing in nature
shows us our ignorance in the constitution of nature. And
whoever will seriously consider that part of the Christian
scheme which is revealed in Scripture, will find so much
more unrevealed, as will convince him, that, to all the purpo-
ses of judging and objecting, we know as little of it, as of the
constitution of nature. Our ignorance, therefore, is as much
an answer to our objections against the perfection of one, as
against the perfection of the oiher.j)
II. It is obvious, too. that in the Christian dispensation, as
much as in the natural scheme of things, means are made use
of to accomplish ends. And the observation of this furnishes
us with the same answers to objections against the perfection
of Christianity, as to objections of the like kind against the con-
stitution of nature. It shows the credibility, that the things
objected against, how foolish^ soever they appear to men,
may be the very best means of accomplishing the very best
ends. And their appearing foolishness is no presumption
against this, in a scheme so greatly beyond our comprehen-
sion.**
III. The credibility, that the Christian dispensation may
have been, all along, carried on by genpral laws,tt no less than
the course of nature, may require to be more distinctly made
out. Consider, then, upon what ground it is we say, that the
* John v. 22, 23. t Matt, xxviii. 18. J 1 Cor. xv.
lTim.iii. 16. l| Page 142, &c. 1M Cor. i. 18, &c.
** Page 145. tt Pages 146, 147
52 CHRISTIANITY AS A SCHEME [PART II.
whole common course of nature is carried on according to gen-
eral fore-ordained laws. We know, indeed, several of the gen-
eral laws of matter; and a great part of the natural behaviour
of living agents is reducible to general laws. But we know, in
a manner, nothing, by what laws, storms, and tempests, earth-
quakes, famine, pestilence, become the instruments of destruc-
tion to mankind. And the laws by which persons born into
the world at such a time an'd place, are of such capacities, ge-
niuses, tempers ; the laws, by which thoughts come into oui
mind, in a multitude of cases ; and by which innumerable
things happen, of the greatest influence upon the affairs and
state of the world : these laws are so wholly unknown to us,
that we call the events, which come to pass by them, acci
dental ; though all reasonable men know certainly, that then>
cannot, in reality, be any such thing as chance ; and conclude,
v'hat the things which have this appearance^ are the result of
general laws, and may be reduced into them. It is then but
an exceeding little way. and in but a very few respects, that
we can trace up the natural course of things before us, to
general laws. And it is only from analogy that we conclude
the whole of it to be capable of being reduced into them T
only from our seeing, that part is so. It is from our rinding,
that the course of nature, in some respects and so far, goes on
by general laws, that we conclude this of the rest. And if
that be a just ground for such a conclusion, it is a just ground
also, if not ttcocfud=e, yet to comprehend 1 , to render it suppos-
able and credible, which is sufficient for answering objections,
that God's miraculous interpositions may have been, all along,
in like manner, by general laws of wisdom. Thus, that mira-
culous powers should be exerted at stick times, upon such
occasions, in such degrees and manners, and with regard to
such persons, rather than others ; that the affairs of the
world, being permitted to go on in their natural course so far,
should, just at such a point, have a new direction given them
bj' miraculous interpositions ; that these interpositions should
be exactly in such, degrees and respects only : all this may
have been by general laws. These laws are unknown,
indeed, to us ; but no more unknown, than the laws from
whence it is, that some die as soon as they are born, and
others live to extreme old age ; that one man is so superior to
a.iother in understanding; with innumerable more things,
which, as was before observed, we cannot reduce to any laws
tr rules at all, though it is taken for granted, they are as
much reducible to general ones as gravitation. Now, if the
CHAP. IV. J IMPERFECTLY COMPREHENDED. 253
revealed dispensations of Providence, and miraculous interpo-
sitions, be by general laws, as well as God's ordinary govern-
ment in the course of nature, made known by reason and
experience ; there is no more reason to expect that every exi-
gence, as it arises, should be provided for by these general
laws of miraculous interposition, than that every exigence in
nature should, by the general laws of nature : yet there might
be wise and good reasons, that miraculous interpositions should
be by general laws ; and that these laws should not be broken
in upon, or deviated from, by other miracles.
Upon the whole, then, the appearances of deficiencies and
irregularities in nature, is owing to its being a scheme but in
part made known and of such a certain particular kind in
other respects. Now we see no more reason, why the frame
and course of nature should be such a scheme, than why
Christianity should. And that the former is such a scheme,
renders it credible, that the latter, upon supposition of its
truth, may be so too. And as it is manifest, that Christianity
is a scheme revealed but in part, and a scheme in which
means are made use of to accomplish ends, like to that of
nature ; so the credibility that it may have been fill along
carried on by general laws no less than the course of nature,
has been distinctly proved. And from all this it is beforehand
credible, that there might, I think probable that there would,
be the like appearance of deficiencies and irregularities in
Christianity as in nature ; i. e. that Christianity would be
liable to the like objections, as the frame of nature. And
these objections are answered by these observations concern-
ing Christianity ; as the like objections against the frame of
nature, are answered by the like observations concerning the
frame of nature.
The objections against Christianity, considered as a matter
of fact,* having, in general, been obviated in the preceding
chapter : and the same, considered as made against the wis-
dom and goodness of it, having been obviated in this ; the
next thing, according to the method proposed, is to show, that
the principal objections in particular, against Christianity,
may be answered by particular and full analogies in nature.
And as one of them is made against the whole scheme of it
* - *P-.v 193, 189
254 CHRISTIANITY AS A SCHEME [PART II.
together, as just now described, I choose to consider it here,
rather than in a distinct chapter by itself. The thing objected
against this scheme of the gospel is, ' That it seems to sup-
pose God was reduced to the necessity of a long series of in-
tricate means, in order to accomplish his ends, the recovery
and salvation of the world ; in like sort as men, for want of
understanding, or power, not being able to corne at their ends
directly, are forced to go round about ways, and make use of
many perplexed contrivances to arrive at them.' Now, every
thing which we see shows the folly of this, considered as an
objection against the truth of Christianity. For, according
to our manner of conception, God makes use of variety ot
means, what we often think tedious ones, in the natural
course of providence, for the accomplishment of all his ends.
Indeed, it is certain, there is somewhat in this matter quite
beyond our comprehension ; but the mystery is as great in
nature as in Christianity. We know what we ourselves aim
at, as final ends ; and what courses we take, merely as means
conducing to those ends. But we are greatly ignorant, how
far things are considered by the Author of nature, under the
single notion of means and ends ; so as that it may be said,
this is merely an end, and that merely means, in his regard.
And whether there be not some peculiar absurdity in our very
manner of conception concerning this matter, somewhat con-
tradictory, arising from our extremely imperfect views of
things, it is impossible to say. However, thus much is mani-
fest, that the whole natural world and government of it is a
scheme, or system ; not a fixed, but a progressive one : a
scheme, in which the operation of various means takes up a
great length of time, before the ends they tend to can* be at
tained. The change of seasons, the ripening of the fruits cl
the earth, the very history of a flower, is an instance of this ;
and so is human life. Thus, vegetable bodies, and those ot
animals, though possibly formed at once, yet grow up by de-
grees to a mature state. And thus rational agents, who
animate these latter bodies, are naturally directed to form,
each his own manners and character, by the gradual gaining
of knowledge and experience, and by a long course of action.
< )ur existence is not only successive, as it must be of necessity,
but one; state of our life and being is appointed by God to be
a preparation for another ; and that, to be the means of at-
taining to another succeeding one : Infancy to childhood ;
childhood to youth ; youth to mature age. Men are impa-
tient, and for precipitating things : but the Author of nature
CHAP. IV.] IMPERFECTLY COMPREHENDED. 255
appears deliberate throughout his operations ; accomplishing
his natural ends by slow successive steps. And theie is a
plan of things beforehand laid out, which, from the nature of
it, requires various systems of means, as well as length of
time, in order to the carrying on its several parts into execu-
tion. Thus, in the daily course of natural providence, God
operates in the very same manner as in the dispensation of
Christianity : making one thing subservient to another ; this,
to somewhat farther ; and so on, through a progressive series
of means, which extend, both backward and forward, bejotnd
our utmost view. Of this manner of operation, every thing
we see in the course of nature is as much an instance, as any
part of the Christian dispensation.
THE APPOINTMENT OF f PART II,
CHAPTER V.
Of the particular System of Christianity ; the Appointment
of a Mediator i and the Redemption of the World by him.
THERE is not, I think, any thing relating to Christianity,
\vhich has been more objected against, than the mediation (if
Christ, in some or other of its parts. Yet, upon thorough
consideration, there seems nothing less justly liable to it.
For,
I. The whole analogy of nature removes all imagined pre-
sumption against the general notion of ' a Mediator between
God and man.'* For we find, all living creatures are brought
into the world, and their life in infancy is preserved, by the
instrumentality of others ; and every satisfaction of it, some
"way or other, is bestowed by the like means. So that the
visible government, which God exercises over the world, is by
the instrumentality and mediation of others. And how far
his invisible government be or be not so, it is impossible to
determine at all by reason. And the supposition, that part
of it is so, appears, to say the least, altogether as credible as
the contrary. There is then no sort of objection, from the
light of nature, against the general notion of a mediator be-
tween God and man, considered as a doctrine of Christianity,
or as an appointment in this dispensation ; since we find, by
experience, that God does appoint mediators, to be the instru-
ments of good and evil to us, the instruments of his justice
and his mercy. And the objection here referred to is urged,
not against mediation in that high, eminent, and peculiar
sense, in which Christ is our mediator ; but absolutely against
Jie whole notion itself of a mediator at all.
II. As we must suppose, that the world is under the
* 1 Tim. iu 5.
CHAP. V.J A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. 257
proper moral government of God, or in a state of religion, be-
fore we can enter into consideration of the revealed doctrine
concerning the redemption of it by Christ ; so that supposi-
tion is here to be distinctly taken notice of. Now, the divine
moral government which religion teaches us, implies, that the
consequence of vice shall be misery, in some future state, by
the righteous judgment of God. That such consequent pun-
ishment shall take effect by his appointment, is necessarily
implied. But, as it is not in any sort to be supposed, that we
are made acquainted with all the ends or reasons for which
it is fit future punishment should be inflicted, or why God
has appointed such and such consequent misery should fol-
low vice ; and as we are altogether in the dark, how or in
what manner it shah 1 follow, by what immediate occasions,
or by the instrumentality of what means ; there is no ab-
surdity in supposing, it may follow in a way analogous to
that in which many miseries follow such and such courses
of action at present; poverty, sickness, infamy, untimely
death by diseases, death from the hands of civil justice.
There is no absurdity in supposing future punishment may
follow wickedness of course, as we speak, or in the way of
natural consequences, from God's original constitution of the
world ; from the nature he has given us, and from the condi
lion in which he places us : or, in like manner, as a person
rashly trifling upon a precipice, in the way of natural conse-
quence, falls down ; in the way of natural consequence, breaks
his limbs, suppose ; in the way of natural consequence of this,
without help, perishes.
Some good men may, perhaps, be offended, with hearing
it spoken of as a supposable thing, that the future punish-
ments of wickedness may be in the way of natural conse-
quence ; as if this were taking the execution of justice out of
the hands of God, and giving it to nature. But they should
remember that when things come to pass according to the
course of nature, this does not hinder them from being his
doing, who is the God of nature ; and that the Scripture as-
cribes those punishments to divine justice, which are known
to be natural ; and which must be called so, when distin-
guished from such as are miraculous. But, after all, this
supposition, or rttther this way of speaking, is here made use
of only by way of illustration of the subject before us. For,
since it must be admitted, that the future punishment of
wickedness is not a matter of arbitrary appointment, but of
reason, equity, and justice ; it comes, for aught I see, to the
258 THE APPOINTMENT OF [PART II.
same thing, whether it is supposed to be inflicted in a way
analogous to that in which the temporal punishments of vice
and folly are inflicted, or in any other way. And though
there were a difference, it is allowable in the present case to
make this supposition, plainly not an incredible one, That
future punishment may follow wickedness in the way of
natural consequence, or according to some general laws of
government already established in the universe. *
III. Upon this supposition, or even without it, we may
observe somewhat, much to the present purpose, in the con-
stitution of nature, or appointments of Providence : the pro-
vision which is made, that all the bad natural consequences
of men's actions should not always actually follow ; or, that
such bad consequences, as, according to the settled course
of things, would inevitably have followed, if not prevented,
should, in certain degrees, be prevented. We are apt, pre-
sumptuously, to imagine, that the world might have been so
constituted, as that there would not have been any such thing
as misery or evil. On the contrary, we find the Author of
nature permits it. But then, he has provided reliefs, and,
in many cases, perfect remedies for it, after some pains and
difficulties ; reliefs and remedies even for that evil, which is
the fruit of our own misconduct, and which, in the course of
nature, would have continued, and ended in our destruction,
but for such remedies. And this is an instance both of se-
verity and of indulgence, in the constitution of nature. Thus,
all the bad consequences, now mentioned, of a man's trifling
upon a precipice, might be prevented. And, though all were
not, yet some of them might, by proper interposition, if not
rejected ; by another's coining to the rash man's relief, with
his own laying hold on that relief, in such sort as the case
requires. Persons may do a great deal themselves towards
preventing the bad consequences of their follies ; and more
may be done by themselves, together with the assistance of
oth ?rs, their fellow-creatures ; which assistance nature re-
quires and prompts us to. This is the general constitution of
the world. Now, suppose it had been so constituted, that
after such actions were done, as were foreseen naturally to
draw' after them misery to the doer, it should have been no
more in human power to have prevented that naturally con
sequent misery, in any instance, than it is, in all ; no one cas
say, whether such a more severe constitution of things migh.l
not yet have been really good. But that, on the contrary,
provision is maie by nature, that we may and do, to so great
CHAP. T.] A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. 25
degree, prevent the bad natural effects of our follies ; this
may be called mercy, or compassion, in the original constitu-
tion of the world ; compassion, as distinguished from good-
ness in general. And, the whole known constitution and
course of things affording us instances of such compassion,
it would be according to the analogy of nature to hope, that,
however ruinous the natural consequences of vice might be,
from the general laws of God's government over the universe,
yet provision might be made, possibly might have been
originally made, for preventing those ruinous consequences
from inevitably following ; at least from following universally,
and in all cases.
Many, I am sensible, will wonder at finding this made a
question, or spoken of as in any degree doubtful. The gene-
rality of mankind are so far from having that awful sense of
things, which the present state of vice and misery and dark-
ness seems to make but reasonable, that they have scarce any
apprehension, or thought at all, about this matter, any way ;
and ?ome serious persons may have spoken unadvised!} 7 con-
cerning it. But let us observe, what we experience to be, and
what, from the very constitution of nature, cannot but be, the
consequences of irregular and disorderly behaviour ; even of
such rashness, wilfiilness, neglects, as we scarce call vicious.
Now, it is natural to apprehend, that the bad consequences of
irregularity will be greater, in proportion as the irregularity is
so. And there is no comparison between these irregularities,
and the greater instances of vice, or a dissolute profligate dis-
regard to all religion ; if there be any thing at all in religion
For, consider what it is for creatures, moral agents, presump
tuously to introduce that confusion and misery into the king-
dom of God, which mankind have, in fact, introduced ; to blas-
pheme the sovereign Lord of all ; to contemn his authority ;
to be injurious to the degree they are, to their fellow-creatures,
the creatures of God. Add, that the effects of vice, in the pre-
sent world, are often extreme misery, irretrievable ruin, and
even death : and, upon putting all this together, it will appear,
that as no one can say, in what degree fatal the uriprevented
consequences of vice may be, according to the general rule of
divine government ; so it is by no means intuitively certain,
how far these consequences could possibly, in the nature of the
thing, be prevented, consistently with the eternal rule of right,
or with what is, in fact, the moral constitution of nature.
However, there would be large ground to hope, that the uni-
versal government was not so severely strict, but that there
260 THE APPOINTMENT OF [FART 11.
was room for pardon, or for having those penal consequences
prevented. Yet,
IV. There seems no probability, that any thing we could
do, would alone, and of itself, prevent them ; prevent their fol-
lowing, or being inflicted. But one would think, at least, it
were impossible that the contrary should be thought certain.
For we are not acquainted with the whole of the case. We
are not informed of all the reasons, which render it fit that
future punishments should be inflicted ; and, therefore, can: jot
know, whether any thing we could do would make such an
alteration, as to render it fit that they should be remitted. We
do not know, what the whole natural or appointed consequen-
ces of vice are, nor in what way they would follow, if not pre-
vented ; and, therefore, can in no sort say, whether we could
do any thing, which would be sufficient to prevent them.
Our ignorance being thus manifest, let us recollect the analogy
of nature, or providence. For though this may be but a slight
ground to raise a positive opinion upon in this matter, yet it is
sufficient to answer a mere arbitrary assertion, without any
kind of evidence, urged by way of objection against a doctrine,
the proof of which is not reason, but revelation. Consider,
then, people ruin their fortunes by extravagance ; they bring
diseases upon themselves by excess ; they incur the penalties
of civil laws, and surely civil government is natural : will sor-
row for these follies past, and behaving well for the future,
alone and of itself, prevent the natural consequences of them ?
On the contrary, men's natural abilities of helping themselves
are often impaired ; or, if not, yet they are forced to be be-
holden to the assistance of others, upon several accounts, and
in different ways: assistance which they would have had no
occasion for, had it not been for their misconduct ; but which,
in the disadvantageous condition they have reduced them-
selves to, is absolutely necessary to their recovery, arid re-
trieving their affairs. Now, since this is our case, considering
ourselves merely as inhabitants of this world, and as having
a temporal interest here, under the natural government of
God, wh*n, however, has a great deal moral in it ; why is
it not supposable, that this may be our case also in our more
important capacity, as under his perfect moral government,
and having a more general and future interest depending ? If
we have misbehaved in this higher capacity, and rendered
ourselves obnoxious to the future punishment which God has
annexed to vice ; it is plainly credible, that behaving well for
*t ,< . 4- ""
CHAP. V.] A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. 261
the time to come, may be not useless, God forbid but
wholly insufficient, alone and of itself, to prevent that punish-
ment ; or to put us in the condition which we should have
been in, had we preserved our innocence.
Ami though we ought to reason with all reverence, when-
ever we reason concerning the divine conduct, yet it may be
added, that it is clearly contrary to all our notions of govern-
ment, as well as to what is, in fact, the general constitution
of nature, to suppose that doing well for the future, should
in all cases, prevent all the judicial bad consequences of hav-
ing done evil, or all the punishment annexed to disobedience.
And we have manifestly nothing from whence to determine,
in what degree, and in what cases, reformation would pre
vent this punishment, even supposing that it would in some.
And, though the efficacy of repentance itself alone, to pre-
vent what mankind had rendered themselves obnoxious to,
and recover what they had forfeited, is now insisted upon, in
opposition to Christianity ; yet, by the general prevalence of
propitiatory sacrifices over, the heathen world, this notion, of
repentance alone being sufficient to expiate guilt, appears to
be contrary to the general sense of mankind.
Upon the whole, then, had the laws, the general laws of
God's government, been permitted to operate, without any
interposition in our behalf, the future punishment, for aught
we kno\v te the contrary, or have any reason to think, must
inevitably have followed, notwithstanding any thing we could
have done to prevent it. Now,
V. In this darkness, or this light of nature, call it which 3-011
please, revelationcomes in: confirms every doubting fear, v. hich
could enter into the heart of man, concerning the future un-
prevented consequence of wickedness ; supposes the world
to be in a state of ruin, (a supposition which seems the very
ground of the Christian dispensation, and which, if notproveable
by reason, yet it is in no wise contrary to it ;) teaches us, t"o,
that the rule? of divine government are such, as not to admit, of
par J on immediately and directly upon repentance, or by the
sii , efficacy of it ; but then teaches, at the same time, wh.it
nature might justly have hoped, that the moral government of
the universe was not so rigid, but that there was room for an
interposition to avert the fatal consequences of vice ; which
therefore, by this means, does admit of pardon. Revelation
teaches us, that the unknown laws of God's more general
government, no less than the particular laws by which we
262 THE APPOINTMENT OF [PAP.T II.
experie -ce he governs us at present, are compassionate,* as
well as ood, in the more general notion of goodness ; and
that h( hath mercifully provided, that there should be an
interpc -ition to prevent the destruction of human kind, what-
ever tLit destruction unprevented would have be>en. 'God so
loved :he world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that
whos .ever believeth,' not, to be sure, in a speculative, but iii
a. practical sense, 'that whosoever beheveth in him should not
peri?n;'f gave his son in the same way of goodness to the
wo .d, as he affords particular persons the friendly assistance
of .heir fellow-creatures, when, without it, their temporal ruin
w.uld be the certain consequence of their follies; in the
Sf.me way of goodness, I say, though in a transcendent and
i:. finitely higher degree. And the Son of God ' loved us, and
pave himself for us,' with a love which he himself compares
to that of human friendship ; though, in this case, all com-
parisons must fall infinitely short of the thing intended to
be illustrated by them. He interposed in such a manner, as
was necessary and effectual to prevent lhat execution of jus-
tice upon sinners, which God had appointed should otherwise
have been executed upon them ; or in such a manner, as
to prevent that punishment from actually following, which,
according to the general laws of divine government, must
have followed the sins of the world, had it not been for such
interposition.^
If any thing here said should appear, upon first thought,
inconsistent with Jivine goodness, a second, I am persuaded,
* Page 204, &c. t John iii. 16.
J It cannot, 1 suppose, be imagined, even by the most cursory reader,
that it is, in any sort, affirmed, or implied, in any thing said in this chap-
ter, that none can have the benefit of the general redemption, but such
as have the advantage of being made acquainted with it in the present
life. But, it may be needful to mention, that several questions, which
have been brought into the subject before us, and determined, are not in
the least entered into here; questions which have been, I fear, rashly
determined, and, perhaps, with equal rashness, contrary ways. For in-
stance : Whether God could have saved the world by other means ihan
the death ofChrist, consistently with the general laws of his government ?
And, had not Christ came into the world, what would have been the
future condition of the better sort of men ; those just persons over the
face of the earth, for whom Manasses in his prayer asserts, repentance
was not appointed 1 The meaning of the first of these questions is
greatly ambiguous ; and neither of them can properly be answf-ed,
without going upon that infinitely absurd supposition, that we know
the whole of the case. And, perhaps, the very inquiry, what icoitld have
followed if God had not done as he has ? may have in it some veiy great
impropriety ; and ought not to be carried on any farther than is neces*
6ary to help our partial and inadequate conceptions of things.
CHAP. V.] A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. 263
\rill entirely remove that appearance. For, were w<> to sup-
pose the constitution of things to be such, as that the whole
creation must have perished, had it not been for son -u what,
which God had apjwmted should be in order to prevent that
ruin ; even this supposition would not be inconsistent, in uny de-
gree, with the most absolutely perfect goodness. But stil. ;t may
be thought, that this whole manner of treating the subject '. e-
fore us, supposes mankind to be naturally in a very strange
stale. And truly so it does. But it is not Christianity \\ hich
has put us into this state Whoever will consider the rr.arifold
miseries, and the extreme wickedness of the world ; thai the
best have great wrongnesses with themselves, which ihey
con plain of^ and endeavour to amend; but, that the gene-
rally grow more profligate and corrupt with age : that hea-
then moralists thought the present state to be a state of pniiish-
ment; and, what might be added, that the earth, ourhabirjition,
has the appearance of being a ruin : whoever, I say, will con-
sider all these, and some other obvious things, will th:-.k he
has little reason to object against the Scripture accoun*. that
mankind is in a state of degradation ; against this beii.jr the
fact : how difficult soever he may think it to accoun: for,
or even to form a distinct conception of, the occasions an ' cir-
cumstances of it. But that the crime of our first parents v*as
the occasion of our being placed in a more disadvantage- >> is
condition, is a thing throughout, and particularly analogous
to what we see, in the daily course of natural Providence ; as
the recovery of the world, by the interposition of Christ, has
been shown to be so in general.
VI. The particular manner in which Christ interposed in the
redemption of the world, or his office as Mediator, in the
largest sense, between God and man, is thus represented to
us in the Scripture : ' He is the light of the world ;'* the re-
vealer of the will of God in the most eminent sense : He is a
propitiatory sacrifice ;f 'the Lamb of God ;'J and as he vo-
luntarily offered himself up, he is styled our High- Priest.
And, which seems of 'peculiar weight, he is described before,
hand in the Old Testament, under the same characters of a
priest, and expiatory victim. || And whereas it is objected,
* John i. and viii. 12.
t Rom. iii. 25, and v. 11. ICor. v. 7. Eph. v. 2. Uohn ii. &
Matt. xxvi. 28.
t John i. 29, 36, and throughout the book of Revelation.
Throughout the Epistle to the Hebrews.
jj Isa. liil Dan. Lx. 24. Psalm ex. 4i
264 THE APPOINTMENT OF [PART 11
that all this is merely by way of allusion to the sacrifices of
the Mosaic law, the apostle, on the contrary, affirms, that the
' law was a shadow of good things to come, and not the very
image of the things ;'* and that the priests that offer gifts
according to the law serve unto the example and shadow
of heavenly things, as Moses was admonished of God, when
he was about to make the tabernacle. ' For see,' saiih lie,
' that thou make all things according to the pattern showed
to thee in the mount :'"f '. e. the Levitical priesthood was a
shadow of the priesthood of Christ, in like manner as the ta-
bernacle made by Moses was accordingto that showed him
in the Mount. The priesthood of Christ and the tabernacle
in the Mount, weie the originals : of the former of which, the
Levitical priesthood was a type ; and of the latter, the taber-
nacle made by Moses was a copy. The doctrine of this
epistle, then, plainly is, that the legal sacrifices were allusions
to the great and final atonement to be made by the blood of
Christ ; and not that this was an allusion to those. Nor can
any thing be more express and determinate, than the follow-
ing passage : ' It is not possible that the blood of bulls and of
goats should take away sin. Wherefore, when he cometh
into the world, he saith, Sacrifice and offering,' i. e. of bulls
and of goats, ' thou wouldst not, but a body hast thou pre-
pared me Lo, I come to do thy will, O God. By which
will we are sanctified, through the offering of the body of
Jesus Christ once for all.'J And to add one passage more
of the like kind : ' Christ was once offered to bear the sins of
many ; and unto them that look for him shall he appear the
second time, without sin ;' t. e. without bearing sin, as he did
at his first coming, by being an offering for it; without
having our iniquities again laid upon him, without being any
more a sin-offering ; ' Unto them that look for him shall he
appear the second time, without sin, unto salvation. ' Nor
do the inspired writers at all confine themselves to this man
ner of speaking concerning the satisfaction of Christ, but de-
clare an efficacy in what he did and suffered for us, additional
to, and beyond mere instruction, example, and government,
in a great variety of expression : ' That Jesus should die for
that nation,' the Jews ; ' and not for that nation only, but that
also,' plainly by the efficacy of his death, ' he should gather
together in one the children of God that were scattered
* Heb. x. 1. t Heb. viii. 4, 5. t Heb. r. 4, 5, 7, 9, 10.
Heb. ix. 28.
CHAF. V.] A MEDIATOR APD REDEEMER. 205
abroad :'* that ' he suffered for sins, the just for the unjust :'f
that 'he gave his life, himself, a ransom :'J that 'we are
bought, bought with a price :' that 'he redeemed us with
his blood ; redeemed us from the curse of the law, being
made a curse for us :'j| that he is our ' advocate, intercessor,
and propitiation :'1T that ' he was made perfect (or consum-
mate) through sufferings ; and being thus made perfect, ho
became the author of salvation :'** that ' God was in Christ,
reconciling the world to himself, by the death of his Son by
the cross ; not imputing their trespasses unto them :'ff and,
lastly, that 'through death he destroyed him that had the
power of death.' JJ Christ, then, having thus 'humbled
himself, and become obedient to death, even the death of the
cross, God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a
name which is above every name ; hath given all things into
his hands ; hath committed all judgment unto him ; that all
men should honor the Son, even as they honor the Father.'
For, ' worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power,
and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory,
and blessing ! And every creature which is in heaven, and
on the earth, heard I, saying, Blessing, and honor, and glory,
and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and
unto the Lamb, for ever and ever !'||j|
These passages of Scripture seem to comprehend and ex
press the chief parts of Christ's office, as mediator between
God and man ; so far, I mean, as the nature of this his office
is revealed , and it is usually treated of by divines under
three heads.
First, He was, by the way of eminence, the Prophet : ' that
Prophet that should come into the world/TTTT to declare the di-
vine will. He published anew the law of nature, which men
had corrupted ; and the very knowledge of wliich, to some
degree, was lost among them. He taught mankind, taught
us authoritatively, to ' live soberly, righteously and godly in
* John xi. 51 , 52. t 1 Pet. iii. 18.
J Matt. xx. 23. Mark x. 45. 1 Tim. ii. 6.
S 2 Pet. ii. 1. Rev. xiv. 4. 1 Cor. vi. 20.
fl 1 Pet. i. 19. Rev. v. 9. Gal. iii. 13.
IT Heb. vii. 25. 1 John ii. 1,9.
** Heb. ii. 10, and v. 9.
tt 2 Cor. v. 19. Rom. v. 10. Eph. ii. 16.
Jt Heh. ii. 14. See also a remarkable passage in the book at Joo,
xxxiii. 24.
Phil. ii. 8, 9. John iii. 35, and v. 22, 23.
|| || Rev. v. 12, 13. W John yi. 14.
266 THE APPOINTMENT OV [PAttl I) .
this present world,' in expectation of the future judgment of
God. He confirmed the truth of this moral system of nature,
and gave us additional evidence of it ; the evidence of testi-
mony.* He distinctly revealed the manner in which God
would be worshipped, the efficacy of repentance, and the re-
wards and punishments of a future life. Thus he was a pro-
phet in a sense in which no other ever was. To which is to
be added, that he set us a perfect ' example, that we should
follow Ms steps.'
Secondly, He has a ' kingdom, which is not of this world.'
He founded a church, to be to mankind a standing memorial
rf religion, and invitation to it ; which he promised to be with
always, even to the end. He exercises an invisible govern-
tnent over it himself, and by his Spirit ; over that part of it
which is militant here on earth, a government of discipline,
' for the perfecting of the saints, for the edifying his body ; till
we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of
the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the
stature of the fulness of Christ.'^ Of this church, all persons
scattered over the world, who live in obedience to his laws,
are members. For these he is ' gone to prepare a place, and
will come again to receive them unto himself, that where he
is, there they may be also ; and reign with him for ever and
ever :'J and likewise ' to take vengeance on them that know
not God, and obey not his gospel.'
Against these parts of Christ's office, I find no objection?
but what are fully obviated in the beginning of this Chapter.
Lastly, Christ offered himself a propitiatory sacrifice, and
made atonement for the sins of the world : which is mentioned
last, in regard to what is objected against it. Sacrifices of ex-
piation were commanded the Jews, and obtained amongst most
other nations, from tradition, whose original probably was reve-
lation. And they were continually repeated, both occasion-
ally and at the returns of stated times ; and made up great
part of the external religion of mankind. ' But now once in
the end of the world Christ appeared, to put away sin by the
sacrifice of himself || And this sacrifice was in the highest
degree, and with the most extensive influence, of that efficacy
ft./ obtaining pardon of sin, which the heathens may be sup-
posed to have thought their sacrifices to have been, and which
* Page 163, &c. f Eph. iv. 12, 13.
t John xir. 2, 3. Rev. iii. 21, and xi. 15.
$ 2 Thess. i. 8. || Heb, ix, 26,
CHAP. V.J A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. 2C7
the Jewish sacrifices really were in some degree, and with
regard to some persons.
How, and in what particular way, it had this efficacy, there
are not wanting persons who have endeavoured lo explain ;
but I do not find that the Scripture has explained it. "VVe
seem to be very much in the dark concerning the manner in
which the ancients understood atonement to be made, i. e. par-
don to be obtained, by sacrifices. And if the Scripture has,
as surely ii has, left this matter of the satisfaction of Christ
mysterious, left somewhat in it unrevealed, all conjectures
about it must be, if not evidently absurd, yet at least uncer-
tain. Nor has any one reason to complain for want of far-
ther information, unless he can show his claim to it.
Some have endeavoured to explain the efficacy of what
Christ has done and suffered for us, beyond what the Scrip
ture has authorized ; others, probably because they could not
explain it, have been for taking it away, and confining his office
as Redeemer of the world, to his instruction, example, and go
vernment of the church ; whereas the doctrine of the gospel
appears to be, not only that he taught the efficacy of repen-
tance, but rendered it of the efficacy which it is, by what he
did and suffered for us : that he obtained for us the benefit of
having our repentance accepted unto eternal life : not only that
he revealed to sinners, that they were in a capacity of salva-
tion, and how they might obtain it ; but, moreover, that he put
them into this capacity of salvation, by what he did and suf-
fered for them ; put us into a capacity of escaping future pun-
ishment, and obtaining future happiness. And it is our wis-
dom thankfully to accept the benefit, by performing the con-
ditions upon which it is offered, on our part, without disputing
how it was procured on his. For,
VII. Since we neither know by what means punishment
iu a future state would have followed wickedness in this : nor
in what manner it would have been inflicted, had it not been
prevented ; nor all the reasons why its infliction would have
been needful ; nor the particular nature of that state of hap-
piness which Christ has gone to prepare for his disciples ;
and since we are ignorant how far any thing which we could
do, would, alone and of itself, have been effectual to prevent
that punishment to which we are obnoxious, and recover that
happiness which we had forfeited ; it is most evident we are
not judges, antecedently to revelation, whether a mediator
was or was not necessary to obtain those ends ; to prevent
that futuie punishment, and bring mankind to the final hap-
268 THE APPOINTMENT OP [PART 1L
piness of their nature. And for the very same reixsons, upon
supposition of the necessity of a mediator, we are no more
judges, antecedently to revelation, of the whole nature of his
office, or the several parts of which it consists ; of what was
fit and requisite to be assigned him, in order to accomplish the
ends of divine Providence in the appointment. And from
hence it follows, that to object against the expediency or use-
fulness of particular things revealed to have been done or
suffered by him, because we do not see how they were
conducive to those ends, is highly absurd. Yet nothing is
more common to be met with, than this absurdity. But if it
be acknowledged beforehand, that we are not judges in the
case, it is evident that no objection can, with any shadow of
reason, be urged against any particular part of Christ's medi-
atorial office revealed in Scripture, till it can be shown posi-
tively, not to be requisite, or conducive, to the ends proposed
to be accomplished ; or that it is in itself unreasonable.
And there is one objection made against the satisfaction of
Christ, which looks to be of this positive kind ; that the doc-
trine of his being appointed to suffer for the sins of the world,
icpresents God as being indifferent whether he punished the
innocent or the guilty. Now, from the foregoing observa
tions, we may see the extreme slightness of all such objec
tions ; and, (though it is most certain all who make them do
not see the consequence,) that they conclude altogether as
much against God's whole original constitution of nature,
and the whole daily course of divine Providence, in the go-
vernment of the world, t. e. against the whole scheme of
theism and the whole notion of religion, as against Chris! iani'y.
For the world is a constitution, or system, whose parts have
a mutual reference to each other; and there is a scheme of
things gradually carrying on, called the course of nature, to
the carrying on of which God has appointed us, in various
ways, to contribute. And when, in the daily course of
natural providence, it is appointed that innocent people should
Buffer for the faults of the guilty, this is liable to the very
Sams objection as the instance we are now considering. The
Infinitely greater importance of that appointment of Chris-
tianity which is objected against, does not hinder but it may
be, as it plainly is, an appointment of the very same kind
with what the world affords us daily examples of. Nay, if
there were any force at all in the objection, it would be
stronger, in one respect, against natural providence, than
against Christianity ; because, under the former, we are in
CHAP. V.] A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. 269
many cases commanded, and even necessitated, whether we
will or no, to suffer ..for the faults of others ; whereas the
suffering's of Christ were voluntary. The world's being
under the righteous government of God, does indeed imply,
that finally, and upon the whole, every one shall receive ac-
cording to his personal deserts ; and the general doctrine of
the whole Scripture is, that this shall be the completion of
the divine government. But, during the progress, and, for
aught we know, even in order to the completion of this moral
scheme, vicarious punishments may be fit, and absolutely
necessary. Men, by their follies, run themselves into ex-
treme distress ; into difficulties which would be absolutely
fatal to them, were it not for the interposition and assistance
of others. God commands by the law of nature, that we
afford them this assistance, in many cases where we cannot
do it without very great pains, and labour, and sufferings to
ourselves. And we see in what variety of ways one person's
sufferings contribute to the relief of another ; and how, or by
what particular means, this comes to pass, or follows, from
the constitution and laws of nature, which come \inder our
notice ; and being familiarized to it, men are not shocked
with it. So that the reason of their insisting upon objections
of the foregoing kind, against the satisfaction of Christ, is,
either that they do not consider God's settled and uniform ap-
pointment as his appointment at all, or else they forget that
vicarious punishment is a providential appointment of every
day's experipnce : and then, from their being unacquainted
with the more general laws of nature, or divine government
over the world, and not seeing how the sufferings of Christ
could contribute to the redemption of it, unless by arbitrary
and tyrannical will, they conclude his sufferings could not
contribute to it any other way. And yet, what has been
often alleged in justification of this doctrine, even from the
apparent natural tendency of this method of our redemption
its tendency to vindicate the authority of God's laws, and
deter his creatures from sin : this has never yet been an-
swered, and is, I think, plainly unanswerable : though I am
far from thinking it an account of the whole of the case. But
^'ithout taking this into consideration, it abundantly appears,
from the observations above made, that this objection is, not
an objection against Christianity, but against the whole
general constitution of nature. And if it were to be consid-
ered as an objection against Christianity, or considering it as
it is, an objection against the constitution of nature, it amounts
23*
270 THE APPOINTMENT OF [PART II.
to no more in conclusion than this, that a divine appointment
cannot be necessary, or expedient, because the objector does
not discern it to be so ; though he must own that the nature
of the case is such, as renders him incapable of judging whe-
ther it be so or riot ; or of seeing it to be necessary, though it
were so.
It is indeed a matter of great patience to reasonable men,
to find people arguing in this manner ; objecting against the
credibiiivy of such particular things revealed in Scripture, that
they do not see the necessity or expediency of them. For,
though it is highly right, and the most pious exercise of our
understanding, to inquire with due reverence into the ends
and reasons of God's dispensations ; yet, when those reasons
are concealed, to argue from our ignorance, that such dis-
pensations cannot be from God, is infinitely absurd. The
presumption of this kind of objections seems almost lost ir.
the folly of them. And the foDy of them is yet greater, when
they are urged, as usually they are, against things in Chris-
tianity analogous, or like to those natural dispensations of
Providence, which are matter of experience. Let reason be
kept to ; and, if any part of the Scripture account of the re-
demption of the world by Christ can be shown to be really con-
trary to it, let the Scripture, in the name of God, be given up :
but let not such poor creatures as we, go on objecting against an
infinite scheme, that we do not see the necessity or usefulness
of aH its parts, and call this reasoning ; and, which sUl far-
ther heightens the absurdity in the present case, parts which
we are not actively concerned in. For, it may be worth men-
tioning,
Lastly, That not only the reason of the thing, but the whole
analogy of nature, should teach us, not to expect to have the
like information concerning the divine conduct, as concerning
our own duty. God instructs us by experience, (for it is
not reason, but experience, which instructs us,) what good
or bad consequences will follow from our acting in such
and such manners ; and by this he directs us how we are
to behave ourselves. But, though we are sufficiently in-
structed for the common purposes of life, yet it is but an
almost infinitely small part of natural providence which wo-
are at all let into. The case is the same with regard to
revelation. The doctrine of a mediator between God and
man, against which it is objected, that the expediency of
some things in it is not iinderstood, relates only to what was
done on God's part in the appointment, and on the Mediator's
CHAP. V.'j A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. 271
in the execution of it. For what is required of us, in con-
sequence of this gracious dispensation, is another subject, in
which none can complain for want of information. The con-
stitution of the world, and God's natural government over it,
is all mystery, as much as the Christian dispensation. Yet
under the first, he has given men all things pertaining to life ;
and undpr the other, all things pertaining unto godliness. And
it may be added, that there is nothing hard to be accounted
for in any of the common precepts of Christianity ; though,
if there were, surely a divine command is abundantly suf-
ficient to lay us under the strongest obligations to obedience.
But the fact is, that the reasons of all the Christian precepts
are evident. Positive institutions are manifestly necessary to
keep up and propagate religion among; t, mankind. And our
duty to Christ, the internal and external worship of him ; this
part of the religion of the gospel manifestly arises out of what
he has done and suffered, his authority and dominion, and
the relation which he is revealed to stand in to us.*
* Pages 67, 68, 4-c.
272 HKVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL : [PART II.
CHAPTER VI.
OJ the want of Universality in Revelation ; and of the sup-
posed Deficiency in the Proof of it.
IT has been though, by some persons, that if the evidence
of revelation appears doubtful, this itself turns into a positive
argument against it ; because it cannot be supposed, that, if
it were true, it would be left to subsist upon doubtful evidence
And the objection against revelation, from its not being uni-
versal, is often insisted upon as of great weight.
Now, the weakness of these opinions may be shown, by
observing the suppositions on which they are founded, which
are really such as these ; that it cannot be thought God
would have bestowed any favour at all upon us, unless in the
degree which, we think, he might, and which, we imagine,
would be most to our particular advantage ; and also, that it
cannot be thought he would bestow a favour upon any, unless
he bestowed the same upon all : suppositions which we rind
contradicted, not by a few instances in God's natural govern-
ment of the world, but by the general analogy of nature
together.
Persons who speak of the evidence of religion as doubtful,
and of this supposed doubtfulness as a positive argument
against it, should be put upon considering, what that evidence
indeed is, which they act upon with regard to their tempo-
ral interests. For, it is not only extremely difficult, but, in
many cases, absolutely impossible, to balance pleasure and
pain, satisfaction and uneasiness, so as to be able to say, on
which side the overplus is. There are the like difficulties and
impossibilities, in making the due allowances for a' change of
temper and taste, for satiety, disgusts, ill health ; any of which
render men incapable of enjoying, after they have obtained,
what they most eagerly desired. Numberless, too, are the
accidents, besides that one of untimely death, which may
tven probably disappoint the best concerted schemes ; and
HAF. VI.J SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF. 273
strong objections are often seen lo lie against them, not to be
removed or answered, but which seem overbalanced by rea-
sons on the other side ; so as that the certain difficulties and
dangers of the pursuit are, by every one, thought justly dis-
regarded, upon account of there appearing greater advantages
in case of success, though there be but little probability of it.
Lastly, Every one observes our liableness, if we be not upon
our guard, to be deceived by the falsehood of men, and the false
appearances of things ; and this danger must be greatly in-
creased, if there be a strong bias within, suppose from indulged
passion, to favour the deceit. Hence arises that great uncer-
tainty and doubtfulness of proof, wherein our temporal inter-
est really consists ; what are the most probable means of
attaining it ; and whether those means will eventually be
successful. And numberless instances there are, in the daily
course of life, in which all men think it reasonable to engage
in pursuits, though the probability is greatly against succeed-
ing ; and to make such provision for themselves, as it is sup-
posable they may have occasion for, though the plain acknow-
ledged probability is, that they never shall. Then those who
think the objection against revelation, from its light not being
universal, to be of weight, should observe, that the Author of
nature, in numberless instances, bestows that upon some,
which he does not upon others, who seem equally to stand in
need of it. Indeed, he appears to bestow all his gifts with
the most promiscuous variety, among creatures of the same
species : health and strength, capacities of prudence and of
knowledge, means of improvement, riches, and all external ad-
vantages. And as there are not any two men found of exactly
like shape and features, so, it, is probable, there are not any two
of an exactly like constitution, temper, and situation, with re-
gard to the goods and evils of life. Yet, notwithstanding
these uncertainties and varieties, God does exercise a natural
government over the world ; and there is such a thing as a
prudent and imprudent institution of life, with regard tc ou*
health and our affairs, under that his natural government.
As neither the Jewish nor Christian revelation have been
universal, and as they have been afforded to a greater or less
part of the world, at different times, so, likewise, at different
times, both revelations have had different degrees of evidence.
The Jews who lived during the succession of prophets, that
is, from Moses till after the Captivity, had higher evidence of
the truth of their religion, than those had who lived in the
interval between the last-mentioned period and the coining of
REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL : [PART li.
Christ. And the first Christians had higher evidence of the
miracles wrought in attestation of Christianity than what we
have now. They had also a strong presumptive proof of the
truth of it, perhaps of much greater force, in way of argu-
ment, than many may think, of which we have very little re-
maining; I mean, the presumptive proof of its truth from the
influence which it had upon the lives of the generality of us
professors. And we, or future ages, may possibly have a proof
of it, which they could not have, from the conformity between
the prophetic history, and the state of the world, and of Chris-
tianity. And farther : If we were to suppose the evidence,
which some have of religion, to amount to little more than
seeing that it may be true, but that they remain in great doubts
and uncertainties abotat both its evidence and its nature, and
great perplexities concerning the rule of life; others to have
a full conviction of the truth of religion, with a distinct know
ledge of their duty ; and others severally to have all the inter-
mediate degrees of religious light and evidence, which lie be-
tween these two. -If we put the case, that for the present it
was intended revelation should be no more than a small light,
in the midst of a world greatly overspread, notwithstanding it,
with ignorance and darkness ; that certain glimmerings of
this light should extend, and be directed, to remote distances,
in such a manner as that those who really partook of it
should not discern from whence it originally came ; that
some, in a nearer situation to it, should have its light ob-
scured, and, in different ways and degrees, intercepted ; and
that others should be placed within its clearer influence, and
be much more enlivened, cheered, and directed by it ; but yet,
that even to these it should be no more than ' a light shining
in a dark place:' all this would be perfectly uniform and of a
piece with the conduct of Providence, in the distribution of its
other blessings. If the fact of the case really were, that
some have received no light at all from the Scripture ; as
many ages and countries in the heathen world : that others,
though they have, by means of it, had essential or natural
religion enforced upon their consciences, yet have never had
the genuine Scripture revelation, with its real evidence, pro-
posed to their consideration ; and the ancient Persians and
modern Mahometans may possibly be instances of people in a
situation somewhat like to this : that others, though they
have had the Scripture laid before them as of divine revela-
tion, yet have had it with the system and evidence of Chris-
tianity so interpolated, the system so corrupted, the evidence
CllAP. VI.] SUPPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ll'S PROOF. 7-3
So blended with false miracles, as to leave the inind in the
utmost doubtfulness and uncertainty about the whole ; which
may be the state of some thoughtful men in most of those na-
tions who call themselves Christian : and, lastly, that others
have had Christianity offered to them in its genuine simplicity,
and with its proper evidence, as persons in countries and
churches of civil and of Christian liberty ; but, however, that
teven these persons are left in great ignorance in many
respects, and have by no means light afforded them enough
to satisfy their curiosit}^ but only to regulate their life, to
teach them their duty, and encourage them in the careful
discharge of it : I sa}', if we were to suppose this somewhat
of a general true account of the degrees of moral and reli-
gious light and evidence, which were intended to be afforded
mankind, and of what has actually been and is their situa-
tion, in their moral and religions capacity, there would be
nothing in all this ignorance, doubtfulness, and uncertainty,
in all these varieties and supposed disadvantages of some in
comparison of others, respecting religion, but may be paralleled
by manifest analogies in the natural dispensations of Provi-
dence at present, and considering ourselves merely in our
temporal capacity.
Nor is there any thing shocking in all this, or which would
seem to bear hard upon the moral administration in nature, if
we would really keep in rnind, that every one should be
dealt -equitably wi'h ; instead of forgetting this, or explaining
it away, after it is acknowledged in words. All shadow of
injustice, and indeed all harsh appearances, in this varkms
economy of Providence, would be lost, if we would keep in
mind, that every merciful allowance should be made, and no
more be required of any one, than what might have been
equitably expected of him, from the circumstances in which
he w;is placed ; and not what might have been expected, had
he been placed in other circumstances : i. e. in Scrip* lire lan-
guage, that every man shall be 'accepted according to waat
he had, not according to what he had not.'* This, however,
doth not by any means imply, that all persons' condition here
Ls equally advantageous wirh respect to futurity. And
Providence's designing to place some in greater darkness
with respect to religious knowledge, is no more a reason why
they should nor endeavour to get out of that darkness, and
others to bring them out of it, than why ignorant and slow
* 2 Cor. viii. 12.
276 REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL : [PART li.
people, in matters of other knowledge, should not endeavour
to learn, or should not be instructed.
It is not unreasonable to suppose, that the same wise and
good principle, whatever it was, which disposed the Author of
nature to make different kinds and orders of creatures, dis-
posed him also to place creatures of like kinds in different
situations ; and that the same principle which disposed him to
make creatures of different moral capacities, disposed him also
to place creatures of like moral capacities in different reli-
gious situations ; and even the same creatures, in different pe-
rOib of their being. And the account or reason of this, is also
most probably the account why the constitution of things is
such, as that creatures of moral natures or capacities, for a
consi lerable part of that duration in .which they are living
agents, are ot at all subjects of morality and religion ; but,
grow up to be so, and grow up to be so more and more, gra-
dually, from childhood to mature age.
What, in particular, is the account or reason of these
things, we must be greatly in the dark, were it only that we
kr,'w so very little even of our own case. Our present state
may possibly be the consequence of somewhat past, which
we are wholly ignorant of: as it has a reference to somewhat
to come, of which we know scarce any more than is neces-
sary for practice A system or constitution, in its notion,
implies variety ; and so complicated a one as this world, very
great variety. So that were revelation universal, yet from
men's different capacities of understanding, from the different
lengths of their lives, their different educations and other ex-
ternal circumstances, and from their difference of temper and
bo r lily constitution, their religious situations would be widely
different, and the disadvantage of some in comparison of
others, perhaps, altogether as much as at present. And the
true account, whatever it be, why mankind, or such a part of
mankind, are placed in this condition of ignorance, must be
supposed also the true account of our farther ignorance, in
not knowing the reasons why, or whence it is, that they are
placed in this condition. But the following practical reflec-
tions may deserve the serious consideration of those persons,
who think the circumstances of mankind, or their own, in the
forementioned respects, a ground of complaint.
First, The evidence of religion not appearing obvious,
may constitute one particular part of some men's trial in the
religious sense ; as it gives scope for a virtuous exercise, or
vicious neglect, of their understanding, in examining or not
CHAP. VI.] SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF. 2t?
examining into that evidence. There seems no possible rea-
son to be given, why we may not be in state of moral pro-
bation, with regard to the exercise of our understanding upon
the subject of religion, as we are with regard to our behaviour
in common affairs. The former is as much a thing within
our power and choice as the latter. And 1 suppose it is to
be laid down for certain, that the same character, the same
inward principle, which, after a man is convinced of the
truth of religion, renders him obedient to the precepts of it,
would, were he not thus convinced, set him about an exam-
ination of it, upon its system and evidence being offered to his
thoughts ; and that in the latter state, his examination would
be with an impartiality, seriousness, and solicitude, proportion-
able to what his obedience is in the former. Ami as inatten-
tion, negligence, want of all serious concern, about a matter
of such a nature and such importance, when offered to men's
consideration, is, before a distinct conviction of its truth, as
real immoral depravity and dissoluteness, as neglect of reli-
gious practice after such conviction ; so, active solicitude
about it, and fair impartial consideration of its evidence before
suc-h conviction, is as really an exercis'e of a morally right
temper, as is religious practice after. Thus, that religicn is
not intuitively true, but a matter of deduction and inference ;
that a conviction of its truth is not forced upon every one.
but left to be, by some, collected with heedful attention to
premises ; this as much constitutes religious probation, as
much affords sphere, scope, opportunity, for right and wrong
behaviour, as any thing whatever does. And their manner
of treating this subject, when laid before them, shows what
is in their heart, and is an exertion of it.
Secondly, It appears to be a thing as evident, though it is
not so much attended to, that if, upon consideration of religion,
the evidence of it should seem to any perrons doubifjl in
the highest supposable degree, even this doubtful evidence
will, however, put them into a general slate of probation, in
the moral and religious senee. For, suppose a man to be realty
in doubt, whether such a person had not done him the great-
est favor ; or, whether his whole temporal interest did not de-
pend upon that person ; no one who had any sense of grati-
tude and of prudence, could possibly cpneicur himself in the
same situation, wih regard to such person, as if hr had no
such doubt. In truth, it is as just to say, that certainty and
doubt are the same, as to say, the situations now mentioned
would leave a man as entirely at liberty, in point of gratitude
itEVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL'. [PART II.
or prudence, as he would be> were he certain he had received
no favor from such person, or that he no way depended upon
him. And thus, though the evidence of religion which is
afforded to some men, should be little more than that they arc
given to see the system of Christianity, or religion in general,
to be supposable and credible, this ought in all reason to beget-
a serious practical apprehension that it may be true. And even
this will afford matter of exercise, for religious suspense and
deliberation, for moral resolution and self-government ; because
the apprehension that religion may be true, does as really
lay men under obligations, as a full conviction that it is
true. It gives occasion and motives to consider farther the
important subject ; to preserve attentively upon their minds
a general implicit sense that they may be under divine moral
government, an awful solicitude about religion, whether na-
tural or revealed. Such apprehension ought to turn men's
eyes to every degree of new light which may be had, from
whatever side it comes, and induce them to refrain, in the
mean time, from all immoralities, and live in the conscientious
practice of every common virtue. Especially are they bound
to keep at the greatest distance from all dissolute profancness
--for this the very nature of the case forbids ; and to treat
w ith highest reverence a matter upon which their own whole
inierest and being, and the fate of nature depends. This be-
haviour, and an active endeavour to maintain within them-
selves this temper, is the business, the duty and the wisdom
of those persons, who complain of the doubtfulness of reli-
gion ; is what they are under the most proper obligations to ;
and such behaviour is an exertion of, and has a tendency to
improve in them, that character, which the practice of all the
several duties of religion, from a full conviction of its truth,
is an exertion of, and has a tendency to improve in others;
others, 1 say, to whom God has afforded such conviction. Nay,
considering the infinite importance of religion, revealed as
well as natural, I think it n,ay be said in general, that who-
ever will weigh the matter thoroughly, may see there is not
near so much difference as is commonly imagined, between
what ought in reason to be the rule of life, to those persons who
are fully convinced of its truth, and to those who have only
a serious doubting Apprehension that it may be true. Their
hopes, and fears, and obligations, will be in various degrees ;
but as the subject-matter of their hopes and fears is the same,
so the subject-matter of their obligations, what they are bound
to do and to refrain from, is not so very unlike.
CHAP. Vl.j SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF. 2t9
It is to be observed farther, that, from a character of under-
standing, or a situation of influence in the world, some per-
sons have it in their power to do infinitely more harm or good,
by setting an example of profuneness, and avowed disregard
to all religion, or, on the contrary, of a serious, though perhaps
doubting, apprehension of its truth, and of a reverend regaid
to it under this doubtfulness, than they can do by acting well
or ill in all the common intercourses amongst mankind : and
consequently they are most highly accountable for a beha-
viour, which, they may easily foresee, is of such importance,
and in which there is most plainly a right and a wrong ; even
admitting the evidence of religion to be as doubtful as is pre-
tended.
The ground of these observations, and that which renders
them just and true, is, thf-t doubting necessarily implies some
degree of evidence for that of which we doubt. For no per-
son would be in doubt concerning the truth of a number of
facts so and so circumstanced, which should accidentally come
into his thoughts, and of which he had no evidence at all.
And though in the case of an even chance, and where conse-
quently we were in doubt, we should in common language say,
that we had no evidence at all for either side ; yet that situa-
tion of things which rer.Jers it an even chance and no more
that such an event will happen, renders this case equivalent
to all others, where there is such evidence on both sides of a
question,* as leaves the mind in doubt concerning the truth.
Indeed, in all these cases, there is no more evidence on the
one side than on the other ; but there is (what is equivalent
to) much more for either, than for the truth of a number of
facts which come into one's thoughts at random. And thus,
in nil these cases, doubt as much presupposes evidence, lower
degrees of evidence, as belief presupposes higher, and cer-
tainty higher still. Any one, who will a little attend to the na-
ture of evidence, will easity carry this observation on, and see,
that between no evidence at nil, and that degree of it which
affords ground of doubt, there are as many intermediate de-
grees, as there are between that degree which is the ground
of doubt, and demonstration. And, though we have not fa-
culties to distinguish these degrees of evidence with any sort
of exactness, yet, in proportion as they are discerned, they
ought to influence our practice. For it is as real an imperfec-
tion in the moral character, not tobe influenced in practice by a
* Introduction.
REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL : [PART II
lower degree of evidence when discerned, as it is in the under-
standing, not to discern it. And as, in all subjects which rfien
consider, they discern the lower as well as higher degrees
of evidence, proportionally to their capacity of understanding ;
6O in practical subjects, they are influenced in practice by
the lower as well as higher degrees of it, proportionably to
their fairness and honesty. And as, in proportion to de-
fects in the understanding, men are unapt to see lower degrees
of evidence, are in danger of overlooking evidence when it is
not glaring, and are easily imposed upon in such cases ; eo,
in proportion to the corruption of the heart, they seern capa-
ble of satisfying themselves with having no regard in prac-
tice to evidence acknowledged real, if it be not overbearing.
From these things it must follow, that doubting concerning
religion implies such a degree of evidence for it, as, joined with
the consideration of its importance, unquestionably lays men
under the obligations before mentioned, to have a dutiful regard
to it in all their behaviour.
Thirdly, The difficulties in which the evidence of reli-
gion is involved, which some complain of, is no n.ore a just
groun;J of complaint, than the external circumstances of tempt-
ation, which others are placed in ; or than difficulties in the
practice of it, after a full conviction of i'.s truth. Temptations
render our state a more improving state of discipline* than it
would be otherwise ; as they give occasion for a more atten-
tive exercise of the virtuous principle, which confirms and
strengthens it mo.e than an easier or less attentive exercise of
it could. Now, speculative difficulties are, in this respect, of
the very same nature with these external temptations. For
the evidence of religion not appearing obvious, is, to some
persons, a temptation to reject it, without any consideration
at all : and therefore requires such UQ attentive exercise of
the virtuous principle, seriously to consider that evidence, as
there would be no occasion for, but for such temptation. And
the supposed doubtfulness of its evidence, after it has been in
some sort considered, affords opportunity to an unfair mind,
of explaining away, and deceitfully hiding from itself, that
evidence which it might see : and also for men's encouraging
themselves in vice, from hopes of impunity, though they do
clearly see thus much at least, that these hopes are uncertain :
in like manner, as the common temptations to many instances
of folly, which end in temporal infamy and ruin, is the ground
* Part i. chap. 5.
CHAP. VI.] SUPPOSED DEFICIENCT IN ITS PROOF. C? I
for hope of not being detected, and of escaping -with impunity ;
t. e. the doubtfulness of the truth beforehand, that such foolish
behaviour will thus end in infamy and ruin. On the con-
trary, supposed doubtfulness in the 'evidence of religion calls
for a more careful and attentive exercise of the virtuous prin-
ciple, in fairly yielding themselves up to the proper influence
of any real evidence, though doubtful ; and in practising con-
scientiously all virtue, though under some uncertainty
whether the government in the universe maj 7 not possibly
be such, as that vice may escape with impunity. And, in
general, temptation, meaning by this word the lesser allure-
ments to wrong, and difficulties in the discharge of our duty,
as well as the greater ones ; temptation, I say, as such, and
of every kind and degree, as it calls forth some virtuous
efforts, additional to what would otherwise have been wanting,
cannot but be an additional discipline and improvement of
virtue, as well as probation of it, in the other senses of that
word.* So that the very same account is to be given, why
the evidence of religion should be left in such a manner, as to
require, in some, an attentive, solicitous, perhaps painful, ex-
ercise of their understanding about it ; as why others should
be placed in such circumstances as that the practice of its
common duties, after a full conviction of the truth of it, should
require attention, solicitude, and pains : or, why appearing
doubtfulness should be permitted to afford matter of tempta-
tion to some ; as why external difficulties and allurements
should be permitted to afford matter of temptation to others.
The same account also is to be given, why some should be
exercised with temptations of boih these kinds, as why others
should be exercised with the latter in such very high de-
grees, as some have been, particularly as the primitive
Christians were. "\xv
" Nor does there appear any absurdity in supposing, that the
speculative difficulties in which the evidence of religion is
involved, may make even the principal part of some per-
sons' trial. For, as the chief temptations of the generality
of the world, are, the ordinary motives to injustice or unre-
strained pleasure ; or to live in the neglect of religion from
that frame of mind, which renders many persons almost with-
out feeling as to any thing distant, or which is not the object
of their senses ; so there are other persons without this shal-
lovrness of !emper, persons of a deeper sense as to wha! isin-
* Part i. c!:n. 1, nml page 131.
21*
262 REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL : [PART II.
visible and future, who not only see, but have a general prac-
tical feeling that what is to come will be present, and that
things are not less real for their not being the object of sense ;
and who, from their natural constitution of body and of temper,
and from their external condition, may have small temptations
to benave ill, small difficulty in behaving well, in the commoc
course of life. Now, when these latter persons have a distinct,
full conviction of the truth of religion, without any possible
doubts or difficulties, the practice of it is to them unavoidable,
unless they will do a constant violence to their own minds ;
and religion is scarce any more a discipline to them, than it is
to creatures in a state of perfection. Yet these persons may
possibly stand in need of moral discipline and exercise, in a
higher degree than they would have by such an easy practice
of religion. Or it may be requisite, for reasons unknown to
us, that they should give some further manifestation* what is
their moral character, to the creation .of God, than such a
practice of it would be. Thus, in the great variety of religious
situations in which men are placed, what constitutes, what
chiefly and peculiarly constitutes the probation, in all senses,
of some persons, may be the difficulties in which the evidence
of religion is involved ; and their principal and distinguished
trial may be, how they will behave under and with respect to
these difficulties. Circumstances in men's situation in their
temporal capacity, analogous in good measure to this, re-
specting religion, are to be observed. We find, some persons
are placed to such a situation in the world, as that their chief
difficulty, with regard to conduct, is not the doing what is
prudent when it is known ; for this, in numberless cases, is
as easy as the contrary ; but to some, the principal exercise
is, recollection, and being upon their guard against deceits ;
the deceits, suppose, of those about them ; against false ap-
pearances of reason and prudence. To persons in some situa-
tions, the principal exercise, with respect to conduct, is atten-
tion, in order to inform themselves what is proper, what is
really the reasonable and prudent part to act.
But as I have hitherto gone upon supposition, that men's
dissatisfaction with the evidence of religion, is not owing to
their neglects or prejudices ; it must be added, on the other
hand, in all common reason, and as what the truth of the
case plainly requires should be added, that such dissatisfac-
* Page 131
CHAP. VI.] SDPPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF. 2b3
tion possibly may be owing to those, possibly may be men's
own fault. For,
If there are any persons, who never set themselves heartily,
and in earnest, to be informed in religion , if there are any,
who secretly wish it may not prove true, and are less atten-
tive to evidence than to difficulties, and more to objections
than to what is said in answer to them ; these persons will
scarce be thought in a likely way of seeing the evidence of
religion, though it were most certainly true, and capable of
beuig ever so fully proved. If any accustom themselves to
consider this subject usually in the way of mirth and sport ;
if they attend to forms and representations, and inadequate
manners of expression, instead of the real things intended by
them, (for signs often can be no more than inadequately ex-
pressive of the things signified ;) or if they substitute human
errors in the room of divine truth ; why may not all, or any
of these things, hinder some men from seeing that evidence
which really is seen by others ; as a like turn of mind, with
respect to matters of common speculation, and practice, does,
we find by experience, hinder them from attaining that know-
ledge and right understanding, m matters of common specu-
lation and practice, which more fair and attentive minds at-
tain to ? And the effect will be the same, whether their neg-
lect of seriously considering the evidence of religion, and their
indirect behaviour with regard to it, proceed from mere care-
lessness, or from the grosser vices ; or whether it be owing
to this, that forms, and figurative manners of expression, as
well as errors, administer occasions of ridicule, when the
tilings intended, and the truth itself, would not. Men may
indulge a ludicrous turn so far, as to lose all sense of conduct
and prudence in worldly affairs, and even, as it seems, to
impair their faculty of reason. And in general, levity, care-
lessness, passion, and prejudice, do hinder us from being
rightlj' informed, with respect to common things ; and they
may, in like manner, and perhaps in some farther providential
manner, with respect to moral and religious subjects ; may
hinder evidence from being laid before us, and from being seen
when it is. The Scripture* does declare, ' that every one
shall not understand.' And it makes no difference by what
* Dan. xii. 10. See also Isa. xxix. 13, 14. Matt. vi. 23, and xi. 25 ;
and xxiii. 11, 12. John iii. 9. John v. 44. 1 Cor. ii. 14, and 2 Cor. iv.
4. 2 Tim. iii. 13 ; and that affectionate, as well as authoritative admo-
nition, so very many times inculcated, ' He that hath ears to hear, let
aim hear.' Grotius saw so strongly the thing intended in these and
284 REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL : [PART II.
providential conduct this comes to pass ; whether the evi-
dence of Christianity was, originally and with design, put
and left so, as that those who are desirous of evading moral
obligations, should not see it, and that honest-minded persons
should ; or whether it comes to pass by any other means.
Farther: The general proof of natural religion and of Chris
tianity, does, I think, lie level to common men ; even those,
the greatest part of whose time, from childhood to old age, is
taken up with providing, for themselves and their families, the
common conveniences, perhaps necessaries of life ; those I
mean, of this rank, who ever think at all of asking after
proof, or attending to it. Common men, were they as much
in earnest about religion as about their temporal affairs, are
capable of being convinced upon real evidence, that there is a
God who governs the world ; and they feel themselves to
be of a moral nature, and accountable creatures. And as
Christianity entirely falls in with this their natural sense of
things ; so they are capable, not only of being persuaded, but
of being made to see, that there is evidence of miracles
wrought in attestation of it, and many appearing completions
of prophecy. But though this proof is real and conclusive,
yet it is liable to objections, and may be run up into difficul-
ties ; which, however, persons who are capable, not only of
talking of, but of really seeing, are capable also of seeing
through ; i. e. not of clearing up and answering them, so as
to satisfy their curiosity, for of such knowledge we are not
capable with respect to any one thing in nature ; but capable
of seeing that the proof is not lost in these difficulties, or de-
stroyed by these objections. But then a thorough examina-
tion into religion, with regard to these objections, which can-
not be the business of every man, is a matter of pretty large
compass, and from the nature of it, requires some knowledge,
as well as time and attention, to see how the evidence cemes
out, upon balancing one thing with another, and what, upon
the whole, is the amount of it. Now, if persons who have
picked up these objections from others, and take for granted
they are of weight, upon the word of those from whom they
received them, or, by often retailing of them, come to see, or
fane}' they see, them to be of weight, will not prepare them-
selves for such an examination, with a competent degree of
other passages of Scripture of the like sense, as to say, that the proot
given us of Christianity was less than it might have been, for this very
purpose : Ut ita sermo Evangelii tanquam lapis esset Lydius atl quern m-
genia sanabUia txplorartntur. De Ver. R. C. 1. 2. towards the end.
CHAP. VI.] SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF. 285
knowledge ; or will not give that time and attention to the
subject, which, from the nature of it, is necessary for attaining
such information : in this case, they must remain in doubtful-
ness, ignorance, or error ; in the same way as they must,
with regard to common sci- nces, and matters of common life,
if they neglect the necessary means of being informed in
them.
But. still, perhaps, it will be objected, that if a prince 01
common master were to send directions to a servant, he would
take care, that they should always bear the certain marks
who they came from, and that their sense should be always
plain ; so as that there should be no possible doubt, if he
could help it, concerning the authority or meaning of them.
Now, the proper answer to all this kind of objections is, that,
wherever the fallacy lies, it is even certain we cannot argue
thus with respect to Him who is the governor of the world ;
an 1 p irtieularly, that he does not afford us such information,
with rep^ct to our temporal affairs and interests, as experience
abundantly shows. However, there is a full answer to this
objection, from the very nature of religion. For, the reason
why a prince would give his directions in this plain manner,
is, that he absolutely desires such an external action should
be done, without concerning himself with the motive or prin-
ci])le upon which it is done : i. e. he regards only tne external
event, or the thing's being done, and not at all, properly
speaking, the doing of it, or the action. Whereas the whole
of morality and religion consisting merely in action itself,
there is no sort of parallel between the causes. But if the
prince be supposed to regard only the action ; t. e. only to
desire to exercise, or in any sense prove, the understanding
or loyalty of a servant, he would not always give his orders
in such a plain manner. It may be proper to add, that the
will of God, respecting morality and religion, may be consid-
ered, either as absolute, or as only conditional. If it be abso-
lute, it can only be thus, that we should act virtuouslj in
such given circumstances ; not that we should be brought
to act so, by his changing of our circumstances. And if
(Jod's will be thus absolute, then it is in our power, in the
highest and strictest sense, to do or to contradict his will ;
which is a most weighty consideration. Or his will ma}' be
considered only as conditional, that if we act so and so, we
shall bi} rewarded ; if otherwise, punished : of which condi-
tional will of the Author of nature, the whole constitution of
it affords most certain instances.
REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL : [PART II
Upon the whole : That we are in a state of religion neces-
sarily implies, that we are in a state of probation ; and the
ci edibility of our being at all in such a state being admitted,
there seems no peculiar difficulty in supposing our probation
to be, just as it is, in those respects which are above objected
against. There seems no pretence from the reason of the,
thing to say, that the trial cannot equitably be any thing,
but whether persons will act suitably to certain infomation.
or such as admits no room for doubt; so as that there can be no
danger of miscarriage, but either from their not attending to
what they certainly know, or from overbearing passion hurrj--
ing them on to act contrary to it. For, since ignorance and
doubt afford scope for probation in all senses, as really as in-
tuitive conviction or certainty ; and since the two former are
to be put to the same account as difficulties in practice ; men's ~"
moral probation may also be, whether they will take due care
to inform themselves by impartial consideration, and afterwards
whether they will act as the case requires, upon the evidence
which they have, however doubtful. And this, we find by
experience, is. frequently our probation,* in our temporal ca-
pacity. For the information which we want, with regard to
our worldly interests,, is by no means always given us of
course, without any care of our own. And we are greatly
liable to self-deceit from inward secret prejudices, and also to
the deceit of others. So that to be able to judge what is the
prudent part, often requires much and difficult consideration.
Then, after we have judged the very best we can, the evidence
upon which we must act,if we live and act at all, is perpetual!}'
doubtful to a very high degree. And the constitution and
course of the world in fact is such, as that want of impartial
consideration what we have to do, and venturing upon extra-
vagant courses, because it is doubtful what will be the conse-
quence, are often naturally, i. e. providentially, altogether as
fatal, as misconduct occasioned by heedless inattention to
what we certainly know, or disregarding it from overbearing
passion.
Several of the observations here made may well seern
strange, perhaps unintelligible, to many good men. But if
the persons for whose sake they are made, think so ; persons
who object as above, and throw off all regard to religion un-
der pretence of want of evidence ; I desire them to consider
again whether their thinking so, be owing to any thing unin-
* Pages 81, 226, 223, 229.
CHAP. VI. J SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN IIS PROOF.
telligible in these observation.-, or to iheir own not having such
a sense of religion and serious solicitude about it, as even
their state of scepticism does in all reason require ? It ought
to be forced upon the reflociion of these persons that our na-
ture and condition necessarily require us, in the daily course
of life, to act upon evidence much lower than what is com-
monly called probable; to guarl, not only against what we
fully believe will, but also again.st whr.t we ihink it supposa-
ble may, happen ; and to engage in pursuits when the proba-
bility is greatly against success, if it be credible that possibly
we ma} succeed in them.
283 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE f PART II.
CHAPTER VII.
:*.
Of Ike particular Evidence for C'irixtianiiv
THE presumptions against revelation, and objections i gainst
the general scheme of Christianity, and particular things re-
lating to it, being removed, there remains to be considered,
what positive evidence we have for the truth of it ; chiefly in
order to see, what the analogy of nature suggests with regard
to that evidence, and the objections against it ; or to see what
is, and is allowed to be, the plain natural rule of judgment
and of action, in our temporal concerns, in cases where we
have the same kind of evidence, and the same kind of objec-
tions against it, that we have in the case before us. Now, in
the evidence of Christiani?y, there seems to be several things
of great weight, not reducible to ths head, either of miracles, or
the completion of prophecy, in the common acceptation of the
words. But these two are i:s direct and fundamental proofs ;
and those other things, however considerable they are, yet
ought never to bs urged apart from its direct proofs, but always
*,o b-} joined with them. Thus the evidence of Christianity
will be a long serbs' of things, reaching, as it seems, from the
beginning of ihe world to the present time, of great variety
and compass, taking in both the direct, and also the collateral
proofs, and making up, all of them together, one argument ;
the conviction arising from which kind of proof may be com-
pared to what they call the effect in architecture or oth r
works of art : a result from a great number of things so and so
disposed, and taken into one view. I shall therefore, first,
make soms observations relating to miracles, and the appe ir
ing completions of prophecy ; and consider what analogy sug-
gests, in answer to the objections brought against this evi-
dence. And, secondly, I shall endeavour to give some ac-
count of the general argument now mentioned, consisting
both of the direct and collateral evidence, considered as making
CHAP. VII.] FOR CHRISTIANITY. 289
up one argument ; this being the kind of proof upon which we
determine most questions of difficulty concemingcommon facts,
alleged to have happened, or seeming likely to happen ; es-
pecially questions relating to conduct.
First, I shall make some observations upon the direct proof
of Christianity from miracles and prophecy, and upon the ob-
jections alleged against it.
I. Now, the following observations, relating to the histori-
cal evidence of miracles wrought in attestation of Christia-
nity, appear to be of great weight.
1. The Old Testament affords us the same historical evi-
dence of the miracles of Moses and of the prophets, as of the
common civil history of Moses and the kings of Israel ; or, as
of the affairs of the Jewish nation. And the Gospels and the
Acts afford us the same historical evidence of the miracles of
Christ and the Apostles, as of the common matters related in
them. This, indeed, could not have been affirmed by any rea-
sonable man, if the authors of these books, like nmny other
historians, had appeared to make an entertaining manner of
writing their aim ; though they had interspersed miracles in
their works, at proper distances, and upon proper occasions.
These might have animated a dull relation, amused the
reader, and engaged his attention. And the same account
would naturally have been given of them, as of the speeches
and descriptions of such authors ; the same account, ir a
manner, as is to be given, why the poets make use of won-
ders and prodigies. But the facts, both miraculous and
natural, in Scripture, are related in plain unadorned narra-
tives ; and both of them appear, in all respects, to stand
upon the same foot of historical evidence. Farther : Some
parts of Scripture, containing an account of miracles fully
sufficient to prove the truth of Christianity, are quoted as
genuine, from the age in which they are said to be written,
down to the present : and no other parts of them, material
in the present question, are omitted to be quoted, in such man-
ner as to afford any sort of proof of their not being genuine.
And, as common histon*, when called in question in any in-
stance, may often be greatly confirmed by contemporary or
subsequent events more known and acknowledged ; and as
the common Scripture history, like many others, is thus con-
firmed ; so likewise is the miraculous history of it, not only
tn particular instances, but in general. For, the establish-
ment of the Jewish and Christian religions, which were events
contemporary with the miracles related to be wrought in at-
25
290 OP THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II
testation of both, or subsequent to them, these events are just
what we should have expected, upon supposition such mira-
cles were really wrought to attest the truth of those religions.
These miracles are a satisfactory account of those events ;
of which no other satisfactory account can be given, nor any
account at all, but what is imaginary merely and invented.
It is to be added, that the most obvious, the most easy and
direct account of this history, how it came to be written and
to be received in the world, as a true history, is, that it really
is so ; nor can any other account of it be easy and direct.
Now, though an account, not at all obvious, but very far-
fetched and indirect, may indeed be, and often is, the true ac-
count of a matter ; yet, it cannot be admitted on the authority
of its being asserted. Mere guess, supposition, and possibility,
when opposed to historical evidence prove nothing, but that
historical evidence is not demonstrative.
Now, the just consequence from all this, I thmk r is, that
the Scripture history, in general, is to be admitted as an au-
thentic genuine history, till somewhat positive be alleged
sufficient to invalidate it. But PO man will deny the conse
quence to be, that it cannot be rejected, or thrown by as of
no authority, till it can be proved to be of none ; even though
the evidence now mentioned for its authority were doubtful.
This evidence may be confronted by historical evidence on
the other side, if there be any ; or general incredibility in the
things related, or inconsistence in the general turn of the his-
tory, would prove it to be of no authority. But since, upon
the face of the matter, upon a first and general view, the ap-
pearance is, that it is an authentic history, it cannot be deter-
mined to be fictitious without some proof that it is so, And
the following observations, in support of these and coincident
with them, will greatly confirm the historical evidence for the
truth of Christianity.
2. The Epistles of St. Paul, from the nature of epistolary
writing, and moreover, from several of them being written,
not to particular persons, but to churches, carry in them evi-
dences of their being genuine, beyond what can be, in a mere
historical narrative, left to the world at large. This evidence,
jfftned with that which they have in common with the rest of
the New Testament, seems not 1o leave so much as any par-,
ticular pretence for denying their genuineness, considered as
an ordinary matter of fact, or of criticism : I say, particular
pretence for denying it ; because any single fact, of such a
kind and such antiquity, may have general doubts raised COR.
CHAP. VII. J FOR CHRISTIANITY 291
eerning it, from the very nature of human affairs and human
testimony. There is also to be mentioned, a distinct and par-
ticular evidence of the genuineness of the epistle chiefly re-
ferred to here, the first to the Corimhians ; from the manner
in which it is quoted by Clemens Romanus, in an episiie uf
his ewn to that church.* Now, these epistles afford a prool
of Christianity, detached from all others, which is, I think, a
thing of weight ; and also a proof of a nature and kind pe-
culiar to itself. For,
In them the author declares that he received the gospel in
general, and the institution of the communion in particular,
not from the rest of the Apostles, or jointly together with
them, but alone from Christ himself ; whom he declares, like-
wise conformably to the history in the Acts, that he saw after
his ascension. "f So that the testimony of St Paul is to be
considered, as detached from that of the rest of the Apostles.
And he declares farther, that he was endued with a power
of working miracles, as what was publicly knov/n to those
very people ; speaks of frequent and great variety of miracu-
lous gifts, as then subsisting in those very churches to which
he was writing ; which he was reproving for several irregu-
larities ; and where he had personal opposers : he mentions
these gifts incidentally, in the most easy manner, and without
effort ; by way of reproof to those who had them, for their
indecent use of them ; and by way of depreciating them, in
comparison of moral virtues. In short, he speaks to these
churches of these miraculous powers, in the manner any one
would speak to another of a thing, which was as familiar,
and as much known in common to them both, as any thing
in the world.f And this, as has been observed by several
persons, is surely a very considerable thing.
3. It is an acknowledged historical fact, that Christianity
offered itself to the world and demanded to be received, upon
the allegation, i. e. as unbelievers would speak, upon the pre-
tence of miracles, publicly wrought to attest the truth of it. in
such an age; and that it was actually received by groat
numbers in that very age, and upon the professed belief of the
reality of these miracles. And Christianity, including the dis-
pensation of the Old Testament, seerns distinguished by this
from all other religions. I mean, that this does not appear
* Clem. Rom. Ep. i. c. 47.
t Gal. i. 1 Cor. xi. 23, &c. 1 Cor. xv. 8.
I Rom. xv. 19. 1 Cor. xii 8, 9, 1023, &c. and chap. xiii. 1, 2, 8
and the whole xivth chap. 2 Ccr. xii. 12, 13. Gal. iii. 2, 5.
292 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II.
vO be the case with regard to any other : for surely it will not
be supposed to lie upon any person, to prove, by positive his-
torical evidence, that it was not. It does in no sort appear
that Mahometanism was first received in the world upon the
foot of supposed miracles,* i. e. public ones : for, as revelation
is itself miraculous, all pretence to it must necessarily imply
some pretence of miracles. And it is a known fact, that it
was immediately, at the very first, propagated by ol-hcr
means. And as particular institutions, whether in paganism
or popery, said to be confirmed by miracles after those insti-
tutions had obtained, are not to the purpose ; so, were there
what might be called historical proof, that any of them were
introduced by a supposed divine command, believed to be at-
tested by miracles, these would not be in any wise parallel.
For single things of this sort are easy to be accounted for,
after parties are formed, and have power in their hands j and
the leaders of them are in veneration with the multitude ;
and political interests are blended with religious claims, and
religious distinctions. But before any thing of this kind, for
a few persons, and those of the lowest rank, all at once to
bring over such great numbers to a new religion, and get it
to be received upon the particular evidence of miracles ; this
is quite another thing. And I think it will be allowed by
any fair adversary, that the fact now mentioned, taking in
all the circumstances of it, is peculiar to the Christian reli-
gion. However, the fact itself is alkwed, that Christianity
obtained, i. e. was professed to be received in the world, upon
the belief of miracles, immediately in the age in which it is
said those miracles were wrought : or that this is what its
first converts would have alleged, as the reason for their em-
bracing it. Now, certainly it is not to be supposed, that such
numbers of men, in the most distant parts of the world, should
forsake the religion of their country, in which they had been
educated ; separate themselves from their friends, particularly
in their festival shows and solemnities, to which the common
people are so greatly addicted, and which were of a nature
to engage them much more than any thing of that port
amongst us ; and embrace a religion which could not but ex-
pose them to many inconveniences, and indeed must have
been a giving up the world in a great degree, even from the
very first, and before the empire engaged in form against
them: it cannot be supposed, that such numbers should
* See the Koran, chap. xiii. and cha
CHAP VII.] FOR CHRISTIANITY. 293
make so great, and, to say the least, so inconvenient a change
in their whole institution of life, unless they were really con-
vinced of the truth of those miracles, upon the knowledge or
belief of which they professed to make it. And it will, I sup-
pose, readily be acknowledged, that the generality of the
first converts to Christianity must have believed them ; that
as, by becoming Christians, they declared to the world they
were satisfied of the truth of those miracles, so this declara-
tion was to be credited. And this their testimony is the
same kind of evidence for those miracles, as if they had put it
in writing, and these writings had come down to us. And it
is real evidence, because it is of facts, which they had capa-
city and full opportunity to inform themselves of. It is also
disiinct from the direct or express historical evidence, though
it is of the same kind ; and it would be allowed to be distinct
in all cases. For, were a fact expressly related by one or
more ancient historians, and disputed in after ages ; that this
fact is acknowledged to have been believed, by great numbers
of the age in which the historian says it was done, would be
allowed an additional proof -of such fact, quite distinct from
the express testimony of the historian. The credulity of
mankind is acknowledged, and the suspicions of mankind
ought to be acknowledged too ; and their backwardness even
*,o believe, and greater still to practise, what makes against
their interest. And it must particularly be remembered, that
education, and prejudice, and authority, were against Chris-
tianity, in the age I am speaking of. So that the immediate
conversion of such numbers, is a real presumption of some-
what more than human in this matter : I say presumption,
for it is alleged as a proof, a]one and by itself. Nor need any
one of the thing* mentioned in this chapter be considered as a
proof by itself; and yet all of them together may be one of
the strongest. /\/
Upon the whole, as there is large historical evidence, both
direct and circumstantial, of miracles wrought in attestation of
Christianity, collected by those who have writ upon the sub-
ject ; it lies upon unbelievers to show why this evidence is not
to be credited. This way of speaking is, I think, just, and
wnat .persons who write in defence of religion naturally fall
into. Yet, in a matter of such unspeakable importance, the
proper question is, not whom it lies upon, according to the
rules of argument, to maintain or confute objections; but,
whether there really are any against this evidence, sufficient,
294 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II,
in reason, to destroy the credit of it, ? However, unbelievers
seem to take upon them the p.irt of showing that there are.
They allege, that numberless enthusiastic people, in different
ages and countries, expose themselves to the same difficulties
which the primitive Christians did ] and are ready to give up
their lives, for the most idle follies imaginable. K-Jt it is not
very clear, to what purpose this objection is brought ; foi
every one, surely, in every case, must distinguish betvreer
opinions and facts. And though testimony is no proof of en-
thusiastic opinions, or any opinions at all ; yet, it is allowed, iu
all other cases to be a proof of facts. And a person's laying
down his life in attestation of facts or of opinions, is the
strongest proof of his believing them. And if the apostles
and their contemporaries did believe the facts, in attestation of
which they exposed themselves to sufferings and death this
their belief, or rather knowledge, must be a proof of those facts ;
for they were such as come under the observation of their
senses. And though it is not of equal weight, yet it is of
weight, that the martyrs of the next age, notwithstanding
they were not eye-witnesses of those facts, as were the
apostles and their contemporaries, had, however, full oppor-
tunity to inform themselves, whether they were true or not,
and give equal proof of their believing them to be true.
But enthusiasm, it is said, greatly weakens the evidence of
testimony even for facts, in matters relating to religion ; some
seem to think, it totally and absolutely destroys the evidence of
testimony upon the subject. And, indeed, the powers of enthu-
siasm, and of diseases, too, which operate in a like manner, are
very wonderful, in particular instances. Bat if great numbers
of men not appearing in any peculiar degree weak, nor under
any peculiar suspicion of negligence, affirm that they saw and
heard such things plainly with their eyes and their eare, and
are admitted to be in earnest ; such testimony is evidence of
the strongest kind we can have for any matter of fact. Yet,
possibly it may be overcome, strong as it is, by incredibility in
the things thus attested, or by contrary testimony. And in
an instance where one thought it was so overcome, it might
be just to consider, how far such evidence could be accounted
for by enthusiasm ; for it seems as if no other imaginable ac-
count were to be given of it. But till such incredibility be
shown, or con'rarv testimony produced, it cannot snrely be
expected, that so far-fetched, so indirect and wonderful an ac-
count of such testimony, as that of enthusiasm must be ; an
account so strange, that the generality of mankind can scarce
CHAP. VII. J FOR CHRISTIANITY. 295
be made tc understand what is meant by it ; it cannot, I say,
be expected, that such account will be admitted of such evi-
dence, when there is this direct, easy, and obvious account
af it, that people really saw and heard a thing not incredible
which they affirm .sincerely, and with full assurance, they did
see and hear. Granting, then, that enthusiasm is not (strictly
speaking) an absurd, but a possible account of such testi-
mony, it is manifest that the very mention of it goes upon tte
previous supposition, that the things so attested are incredi-
ble ; and therefore, need not be considered, till they are shown
to be so. Much less need it be considered, after the contrary
has been proved. And 1 think it has been proved, to full
satisfaction, that there is no incredibility in a revelation, in
general, or in such a one as the Christian in particular.
However, as religion is supposed peculiarly liable to enthusi-
asm, it may just be observed, that prejudices almost without
number and without name, romance, affectation, humour, a
desire to engage attention or to surprise, the party-spirit, cus-
tom, little competitions, unaccountable likings and dislikings j
these influence men strongly in common matters. And as
these prejudices are often scarce known or reflected upon by
the persons themselves who are influenced by them, they are
to be considered as influences of a like kind to enthusiasm.
Yet human testimony in common matters is naturally and
justly believed notwithstanding.
It is intimated farther, in a more refined way of observa-
tion, that though it should be proved, that the apostles and
first Christians could not, in some respects, be deceived them-
selves, and, in other respects, cannot be thought to have in-
tended to impose upon the world, yet, it will not follow, that
their general testimony is to be believed, though truly handed^
down to us ; because they might still in part, . e. in other
respects, be deceived themselves, and in part also designedly
impose upon others ; which, it is added, is a thing very credi-
ble, from that mixture of real enthusiasm, and real knavery,
to be met with in the same characters. And, I must confess,
I think the matter of fact contained in this observation upon
mankind, is not to be denied ; and that somewhat very much
akin to it, is often supposed in Scripture as a very common
case, and most severely reproved. But it were to have been
expected, that persons capable of applying this observation as
applied in the objection, might also frequently have met with
the like mixed character, in instances where religion was
quite auf of the case. The thing plainly, is, that mankind aro
296 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II
naturally endued \vitb reason, or a capacity of distinguishing
between truth and falsehood ; and as naturally they are en-
dued with veracity, or a regard to truth in what they say :
but from many occasions, they are liable to be prejudiced,
and biassed, and deceived themselves, and capable of intend-
ing to deceive others, in every different degree ; insomuch
that, as we are all liable to be deceived by prejudice, so like-
wise it seems to be not an uncommon thing, for persons, who,
from their regard to truth, would not invent a lie entirely
without any foundation at all, to propagate it with heighten-
ing circumstances, after it is once invented and set agoing.
And others, though they would rrot propagate a lie, yet,
which is a lower degree of falsehood, will let it pass without
contradiction. But, notwithstanding all this, human testi-
mony remains still a natural ground of assent ; and this
assent, a natural principle of action.
It is objected farther, that however it has happened, the
f act i?, that mankind have, in different ages, been strangely
deluded with pretences to miracles and wonders. But it is
by no means to be admitted, that they have been oftener, 01
are at all more liable to be deceived by these pretences, than
by others.
It is ad-ied, that there is a very considerable degree of his-
torical evidence for miracles, which are on all hnnds acknow-
ledged to be fabulous. But suppose there were even the like
historical evidence for these, to what there is for those alleged
in proof of Christianity, which yet is in no wise allowed ; but
suppose this ; the consequence would not be, the evidence of
the latter is not to be admitted. Nor is there a man in the
world who, in common cases, would conclude thus. For
what would such a conclusion really amount to but this, that
evidence, confuted by contrary evidence, or any way over-
balanced, destroys the credibility of other evidence, neither
confuted nor overbalanced 1 To argue, that because there is,
if there were, like evidence from testimony, for miracles ac-
knowledged false, as for those m attestation of Christianity,
therefore the evidence in the latter case is not to be credited ;
this is the same as to argue, that if two men of equally good
reputation had given evidence in different cases no waj con-
nected, and one of them had been convicted of perjury, this
confuted the testimony of the other.
Upon the whole, then, the general observation that human
creatures are so liable to be deceived, from enthusiasm in re-
ligion, and principles equivalent to enthusiasm in common
CHAT. VII.] FOR CHRISTIANITY. 297
matters, and in both from negligence ; and that they are so
capable of dishonestly endeavouring to deceive others ; this
does indeed weaken the evidence of testimony in all cases,
but does not destroy it in any. And these things will appear,
to different men, to weaken the evidence of testimony, in
different degrees ; in degrees proportionable to the observa-
tions they have made, or the notions they have any waj
taken up, concerning the weakness, and negligence, and dis-
honesty of mankind ; or concerning the powers of enthusi-
asm, and prejudices equivalent to it. But it seems to me,
that people do not know what they say, who affirm these
things to destroy the evidence from testimony, which we
have of the truth of Christianity. Nothing can destroy the
evidence of testimony in any case, but a proof or probability,
that persons are not competent judges of the facts to which
they give testimony ; or that they are actually under some
indirect influence in giving it, in such particular case. Till
this be made out, the natural laws of human actions require,
that testimony be admitted. It can never be sufficient to
overthrow direct historical evidence, indolently to say, that
there are so many principles, from whence men are liable to
be deceived themselves and disposed to deceive others, espe-
cially in mutters of religion, that one knows not what to be-
heve. And it is surprising persons can help reflecting, that
this very manner of speaking supposes, they are not satisfied
that there is nothing in the evidence, of which they speak
thus ; or that they can avoid observing, if they do make this
reflection, that it is, on such a subject, a very material one.*
And over against all these objections, is to be set the im
portance of Christianity, as what must have engaged the at-
tention of its firta converts, so as to have rendered them less
liable to be deceived from carelessness, than they would in
common matters ; and likewise the strong obligations to ve-
racity, which their religion laid them under: so that the firsi
and most obvious presumption is, that they could not be de-
ceived themselves, nor would deceive others. And this pre-
sumption, in this degree, is peculiar to the testimony we have
fceen considering.
In argument, assertions are nothing in themselves, and
have an air of positiveness, which sometimes is not very
easy ; yet the} r are necessary, and necessary to be repeated,
ir. order to conrect a discourse, and distinctly to lay before the
* See the foregoing chapter.
298 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART H.
view of the reader what is proposed to be proved, and what is
left as proved. Now, the conclusion from the foregoing obser-
vations is, I think, beyond all doubt, this : that unbelievers
must be forced to admit the external evidence for Christianity,
t. e. the proof of miraclef wrought to attest it, to be of real
weight and very considerable ; though they cannot allow it to
fee sufficient to convince them of the reality of those miracles.
And as they must, in all reason, admit this, so it seems to me,
that upon consideration they would, in fact, admit it ; those
of them, I mean, who know any thing at all of the matter :
in like manner as persons, in many cases, own, they see
strong evidence from testimony, for the truth of things, which
yet they cannot be convinced are true ; cases, suppose, where
there is contrary testimony, or things which they ihink,
whether with or without reason, to be incredible. But there
is no testimony contrary to that which we have been con-
sidering ; and it has been fully proved, that there is no incredi-
bility in Christianity in general, or in any part of it.
II. As to the evidence for Christianity from prophecy, I
shall only make some few general observations, which are
suggested by the analogy of nature ; t. e. by the acknow-
ledged natural rules of judging in common matters, concern
ing evidence of a like kind to this from prophecy.
1. The obscurity or unintelligibleness of one part of a
prophecy, does not, in any degree, invalidate the proof of
foresight, arising from the appearing completion of those other
parts which are understood. For the case is evidently the
same, as if those parts, which are not understood, were lost,
or not written at all, or written in an unknown tongue.
Whether this observation be commonly attended to or not,
it is so evident, that one can scarce bring one's self to set down
an instance in common matters, to exemplify it. However,
suppose a writing, partly in cypher, and partly in plain words
at length, and that, in the part one understood, there appeared
mention of several known facts ; it would never come into
any man's thoughts to imagine, that if he understood the
whole, perhaps he might find, that those facts were not, in
reality, known by the writer. Indeed, both in this example,
and the thing intended to be exemplified by it, our not under-
standing the whole, (the whole, suppose, of a sentence or a
paragraph,) might sometimes occasion a doubt, whether one
understood the literal meaning of such a part ; but this comes
under another consideration.
For the same reason though a man should be incapable,
t
CHAP. VII. J i'OR CHRISTIANITY. 209
for want of learning, or opportunities of inquiry, or from not
having turned his studies this way, even so much as to judge
whether particular prophecies have been thrjughout com-
pletely fulfilled ; yet he may see, in general, that th^y have
been fulfilled, to such a degree, as, upon very good ground,
lo be convinced of foresight more than human in such pro-
phecies, and of such events being intended by (hem. For
the same reason also, though, by means of the deficiencies
in civil history, and the different accounts of historians, the
most learned should not be able to make out to satisfaction,
thai such parts of the prophetic history have been minutely
and throughout fulfilled; yet a very strong proof of foresight
may arise from that general completion of them which is
made out ; as much proof of foresight, perhaps, as the Giver
of prophecy intended should ever be afforded by such parts of
prophecy.
2. A long series of prophecy being applicable to such and
such events, is itself a proof, that it was intended of them ;
as the rules, by which we naturally judge and determine, in
common cases parallel to this, v/ill show. This observation I
m.ike in answer to the common objection against the applica-
tion of the prophecies, that, considering each of them distinctly
by itsfiF, it. does not at all appear, that they were intended of
those particular events to which they are applied by Chris-
tians ; an:l, therefore, it is to be supposed, that, if they meant
any thing, they were intended of other events unknown to us,
and not of these at all.
Now. there are two kinds of writing, which bear a great
resemblance to prophecy, wi n respect to the matter before
us ; the mythological and the satirical, w here the satire is, to
a certain degree, concealed. And a man might be assured,
that he understood what an author intended by a fable or
parable, .related wiihout any application or moral, merely
from seeing it to be easily capable of such application, and
that such a moral might naturally be deduced from it. And
hs might be fully assured, that such persons and events were
intended in a satirical writ ing, merely from its being applica-
ble to them. And, agreeably to the last observation, he
might be in a good measure satisfied of it, though he were
not enough informed in affair?, or in the storv of such persons,
to understand half ths satire. For, his satisfaction, that he
understood the meaning, the intended meaning, of these
writings, should be greater or less, in proportion as he saw the
general turn of them to be capable of such application, and
300 dF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [ PART II,
in proportion to the number of particular things capable of it
And thus, if a long series of prophecy is applicable to the
present state of the church, and to the political situations of
ie kingdoms of the world, some thousand years after these
piojihecies were delivered, and a long series of prophecy de-
livered before the coming of Christ is applicable to him ; these
things are in themselves a proof, that the prophetic historj
was intended of him, and of those events : in proportion as
the general turn of it is capable of such application, and to
the number and variety of particular prophecies capable of it.
And, though in all just way of consideration, the appearing
completion of prophecies is to be allowed to be thus explara-
tory of, and to determine their meaning ; yet it is to be re-
membered farther, that the ancient Jews applied the prophe-
cies to a Messiah before his corning, in much the same man-
ner as Christians do now ; and that the primitive Christians
interpreted the prophecies respecting the state of the church
and of the world IP the last ages, in the sense which the
event seems to confirm and verify. And from these things it
may be made appear,
3. That the showing, even to a high probability, if that
could be, that the prophets thought of some other events, in
such and such predictions, and not those at all which Chris-
tians allege to be completions of those predictions ; or that
such and such prophecies are capable of being applied to
other events than those to which Christians apply them that
this would not confute or destroy the force of the argument
from prophecy, even with regard to those very instances. For,
observe how this matter realty is. If one knew such a per-
son to be the sole author of such a book, and was certainly
assured, or satisfied to any degree, that one knew the whole
of what he intended in it, one should be assured or satisfied to
such degree, that one knew the whole meaning of that book ;
for the meaning of a book is nothing but the meaning of the
author. But if one knew a person to have compiled a book
out of memoirs, which he received from another, of vastly su-
perior knowledge in the subject of it, especially if it were a
book full of great intricacies and difficulties, it wouil in no
wise follow, that one knew the whole meaning of the book,
from knowing the whole meaning of the compiler ; for the
original memoirs, i. e. the author of them, might have, and
there would be no degree of presumption, in many cases,
against supposing him to have, some farther meaning than
the compiler saw. To say, then, that the Scriptures and the
CHAP. VII. J FOR CHRISTIANITY. 301
things contained in them can have no other or farther mean-
ing', than those persons thought or had, who first recite,! of
wrote them, is evidently saying, that those persons were the
original, proper, and sole authors of those books, '. e. that they
are not inspired ; which is absurd, whilst the authoriiy of
these books is under examination, i. e. till you have determined
they art, of no divine authority at all. Till this be deter-
mined, it must in all reason be supposed, not indeed that thef
have, lor this is taking for granted that they are inspired, but
that they may have, some farther meaning than what the
compilers &hw or understood. And, upon this supposition, it
is supposaoK, aUo, that this farther meaning may be fulfilled.
Now, events corresponding lo prophecies, interpreted in a dif-
ferent meaning from that which the prophets are supposed to
have understock them ; this affords, in a manner, the same
proof that this different sense was originally intended, as it
would have aftuided, if the prophets had not understood their
predictions in tht, sense it is supposed they did : because there
is no presun.ptioi, of their sense of them being the whole sense
of them. And it has been already" shown, that the apparent
completions of piophecy must be allowed to be explanatory
of its meaning. So that the question is, whether a series of
prophecy has been fulfilled, in a natural or proper, t. e. in any
real sense of the words of it. For such completion is equally
a proof of foresight more than human, whether the prophets
are, or are not, supposed to have understood it in a different
sense. I say, supposed ; for though I think it clear, that the
prophets did not understand the full meaning of their predic-
tions, it is another question, how far they thought they di',
an. 1 , in what sense they understood them.
Hence may be seen, to how little purpose those persons busy
themselves, who endeavour to prove that the prophetic history
is applicable to events of the age in which it was written, o:
of ages before it. Indeed, to have proved this before theip
was any appearance of a farther completion of it, might ha\f.
answered some purpose; for it might have prevented the ex-
pectation of any such farther completion. Thus, could Por-
phyry have shown, that some principal parts of the book of
Daniel, for instance, the seventh verse of the seventh ehap'er,
which the Christians interpreted of the latter ages, was appli-
cable to -events which happened before or about the age of
Antiochus Epiphanes ; this might have prevented them from
expecting any farther completion of it. And unless there was
then, as I think there must have been, external evidence con-
26
302 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II
cerning that book, more than is come down to us, such a dis-
covery might have been a stumbling-block in the way of
Christianity itself ; considering the authority which our Sa-
viour has given to the book of Daniel, and how much the ge-
neral scheme of Christianity presupposes the truth of it. But
even this discovery, had there been any such,* would be of
very little weight with reasonable men now ; if this passage,
thus applicable to events before the age of Porphyry, appears
to be applicable also to events, which succeeded the dissolution
of the Roman empire. I mention this, not at all as intending
to insinuate, that the division of this empire into ten parts, for it
plainly was divided into about that number, were, alone and
by itself, of any moment in verifying the prophetic history ;
but only as an example of the thing I am speaking of. And
thus, upon the whole, the matter of inquiry evidently rrmst.be,
as above put, Whether the prophecies are applicable to Christ,
and to the present state of the world and of the church ; appli
cable in such a degree, as to imply foresight : not whether
they are capable of any other application ; though I know no
pretence for saying, the general turn of them is capable of any
other.
These observations are, I think, just, and the evidence re-
ferred to in them, real ; though there may be people who will
not accept of such imperfect information from Scripture. Seme
too have not integrity and regard enough to truth, to attend
to evidence, which keeps the mind in doubt, perhaps perplex-
ity, and which is much of a different sort from what they expec-
ted. And it plainly requires a degree of modesty anJ. fj'rness,
beyond what every one has, for a man to sa}', not to the world,
but to himself, that there is a real appearance of somewhat of
great weight in this matter, though he is not able thoroughly
to satisfy himself about it ; but it shall have hs influence upon
him, in proportion to its appearing reality and weight.- It is
much more easy, and more falls in with the negligence, pre
sumption, and wilfumess of the generality, to <! termine al
on^e. *vith a decisive air, there is nothing in it. The preju-
dices arising from that absolute contempt and scorn, with
which this evidence is treated in the world, I do not mention.
* It appears, that Porphyry did nothing worth mentioning: in this way.
For Jerome on the place says : Dvas posteriores bestia.1 in nno Marrio-
ni'm resfno ponit. And as t.o the ten kin:s : Decem rexes enwnerat, qm
fuenint srevissimi : ipsosque reges non nnius ponit re/jnt, verbi grati-i, .Mace-
donia, Syrice, Jtsice,. et Egypli ; sed de diversis regnis iinum efficil regum
vrdinem. And in this way of interpretation, any thing may be made of
*ny thing.
CHAP. VII.] VOR CHRISTIANITY. 303
For what indeed can be said to persons, who are weak enough
in iheir understandings to think this any presumption against
it ; or, if they do not, are yet weak enough in their temper
to be influenced by such prejudices, upon such a subject ? v-
I shall row, secondly, endeavour to give some account of
the general argument for the truth of Christianity, consistir.g
ooth of the direct and circumstantial evidence, considered as
making up one argument. Indeed, to state and examine this
argument fully, would be a work much beyond the compass
of this whole Treatise ; nor is so much as a proper abridg-
ment of it to be expected here. Yet the present subject re-
quires to have some brief account of it given. For it is the
kind of evidence upon which most questions of difficulty, in
common practice, are determined ; evidence arising from va-
rious coincidences, which support and confirm each other, and
in this manner prove, with more or less certainty, the point
under consideration. And I choose to do it also, first, Be-
cause it seems to be of the greatest importance, and not duly
attended to by every one, that the proof of revelation is, not
some direct and express things only, but a great variety of
circumstantial things also ; and that though each of these
direct and circumstantial things is indeed to be considered
separately, yet they are afterwards to be joined together ; for
that the proper force of the evidence consists in the results of
those several things, considered in their respects to each
other, ani united into one view ; and, in the next place, Be-
cause it seems to me, that the matters of fact here set down,
which are acknowledged by unbelievers, must be acknow-
ledged by them also to contain together a degree of evidence '
of great weight, if they could be brought to lay these several
things before themselves distinctly, and then with attention
consider them together ; instead of that cursory thought of
them, to which we are familiarized. For being familiarized
to the cursory thought, of things, as really hinders the weight
of them from being seen, as from having its due influence
upon practice.
The thing asserted, and the truth of which is to be in-
quired into, is this : that over and above our reason and affec-
tions, which God has given us for the information of our judg-
ment and conduct of our lives, he has also, by external reve-
lation, given us an account of himself and his moral govern-
ment over the world, implying a future state of rewards and
punishments , i. e. hath revealed the system of natural reli
304 OF THE PARTICULAR. EVIDENCE [PART II,
gion ; for natural religion may be externally* revealed by
God, as the ignorant may be taught it by mankind, their iel-
low creatures that God, I say, has given us the evidence of
revelation, as well as- the evidence of reason, to ascertain this
moral system ; together with an account of a particular dis-
pensation of Providence, which reason could no. way have
discovered, and a particular institution of religion founded on
if, for the recovery of mankind out of their present wretched
condition, and raising them to the perfection and final happi-
ness of their nature.
This revelation, whether real or supposed, may be consid-
ered as wholly historical. For prophecy is nothing but the
history of events before they come to pass : doctrines also are
matters of fact ; and precepts come under the same notion
And the general design of Scripture, which contains in it this
revelation, thus considered as historical, may be said to be, to
give us an account of the world, in this one single view, as
God's world ; by which it appears essentially distinguished
from all other books, so far as I have found, except such as
are copied from it. It begins with an account of God's crea-
tion of the world, in order to ascertain and distinguish from all
others, who is the object of our worship, by what he has done;
in order to ascertain who he is, concerning whose providence,
commands, promises, and threatening^, this sacred book all
along treats ; the Maker and Proprietor of the world, he whose
creatures we are, the God of nature : in order likewise to dis-
tinguish him from the idols of the nations, which are either im-
aginary beings, i. c. no beings at all ; or else part of that crea-
tion, the historical relation of which is here given. And St
John, not improbably with an eye to this Mosaic account of
the creation, begins his gospel with an account of our Sa-
viour's pre-existence, and that, ' all things were made by him,
and without him was not any thing made that was ma'de ;'t
agreeably to the doctrine of St Paul, that 'God created all
things by Jesus Christ .'J This being premised, the Scripture,
taken together, seems to profess to contain a kind of an abridg
ment of the history of the world, in the view just now men-
tioned ; that is, a general account of the condition of religion
and its professors, during the continuance of that apostacy
from God, and state of wickedness, which it every where
supposes the world to lie in. And this account of the state
of religion carries with it some brief account of the political
* Page 1 62, &c. f Jo^ i. 3. J Eph. iii. 8.
CHAP. VII.] FOR CHRISTIANITY. 30/3
state of things, as religion is affected by it. Revelation in-
deed considers the common affairs of this world, and what is
going on in it, as a mere scene of distraction, and cannot be
supposed to concern itself with foretelling- at what time Rome,
or Babylon, or Greece, or any particular place, should be the
most conspicuous seat of that tyranny and dissoluteness,
which all places equally aspire to be ; cannot. I say, be sup-
posed to give any account of this wild scene for its own sake.
But it seems to contain some very general account of the
chief governments of the world, as the general state of reli-
gion has been, is, or shall be, affected by them, from the first
transgression and during the whole interval .of the world's
continuing in its present state, to a certain future period,
spoken of both in the Old and New Testament, very dis
tinctlj', and in great variety of expression : 'The times of the
restitution of air things ;'* when 'the mystery of God shall
be finished, as he hath declared to his servants the prophets ;'f
when 'the God of heaven shall set up a kingdom, which
shall never be destroyed ; and the kingdom shall not be left
to other people/^ as it i& represented to be during this apos-
tacy, but 'judgment shall be given to the saints,' and ' they
shall reign ;'|| ' and the kingdom and dominion, and the great-
ness of the kingdom under the whole heaven, shah 1 be given
to the people of the saints of the Most High.'IF
Upon this genera! view of the Scripture, I would remark
how great a length of time the whole relation takes up, near
six thousand years of which are pas' : and how great a va-
riety of things it treats of; the natural and moral system or
history of the world, including the time when it was formed,
all contained in the very first book, and evidently written in a
rude and unlearned age ; and in subsequent books, the vari-
ous common and prophetic history, and the particular dispen-
sation of Christianity. Now all this together gives the
largest scope for criticism ; and for confutation of what is ca-
pable of being confuted, either from reason, or from common
history, or from any inconsistence in its several parts. And
it is a thing which deserves, I think, to be mentioned, that
whereas some imagine, the supposed doubtfulness of the evi-
dence for revelation implies a positive argument that it is not
true ; it appears, on the contrary, to imply a positive argu-
ment that it is true. For. could any common relation of such
* Acts ill 21. fRev. x. 7. JDan. ii. Dan.vii. 22.
|| Rev. xi. 17, 13, ch. xx. o U Dan. vii.
306 F THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [ PART II.
antiquity, extent, and variety, (for in these things the stress
of what I um now observing lies,) be proposed to the examina-
tion of the world ; that it could not, in an age of knowledge
and liberty, be confuted, or shown to have nothing in it, to the
satisfaction of reasonable men ; this would be thought a
strong presumptive proof of its truth. And indeed it must be
a proof of it just in proportion to the probability, that if it were
false, it might be shown to be so ; and this, I think, is scarce
pretended to be shown but upon principles and in ways of
arguing which have been clearly obviated.* Nor does it at
all appear, that any sect of men who believe natural religion,
aro of the opinion, that Christianity has been thus confuted.
But to proceed :
Together with the moral system of the world, the Old Tes
lament contains a chronological account of the beginning ot
it, and from thence, an unbroken genealogy of mankind for
many ages before common history begins j and carried on as
much farther, as to make up a continued thread of history of
the length of between three and four thousand years. It con-
tains an account of God's making a covenant with a particu-
lar nation, that they should be his people, and he would be their
God, in a peculiar sense ; of his often interposing miraculously
in their affairs ; giving them the promise, and, long after, the
possession, of a particular country ; assuring them of the
greatest national prosperity in it, if they would worship him,
in opposition to the idols which the rest of the world worship
ped, and obey his commands ; and threatening them with un-
exampled punishments, if they disobeyed him, and fell into the
general idolatry : insomuch, that this one nation should con-
tinue to be the observation and the wonder of all the world.
It declares particularly, that " God would scatter them among
all people, from one end of the earth unto the other ;" but
" when they should return unto the Lord their God, he would
Jtuve compassion upon them, and gather them, from all the
nations whither he had scattered them ;" that "Israel should
be saved in the Lord, with an everlasting salvation, and not 19
ashamed or confounded, world without end." And as some
of these promises are conditional, others are as absolute as
any thing can be expressed, that the time should come, when
u the people should be all righteous, and inherit the land for-
ever :" that " though God would make a full end of all na-
'ions whither he had scattered them, yet would he not make
* Chap. 2, 3, &c.
CHAP. \II.] FOR CHRISTIANITY. 307
a full end of them :" that " he would bring again the captivity
of his people Israel, and plant them upon their land, and they
should be no more pulled up out of their land :" :I.u "the
seed of Israel should not cease from being a nation torever."*
It foretells, that Gcd would raise them up a particular person,
in whom ah his prornioes should be fulfilled : the Messiah,
wlio should be. in a high and eminent sense, their anoiiiled
Prince and Saviour. This was foretold in such a manner, as
raised a general expectation of such a person in the nation, as
appears from the New Testament, and is an acknowledged
fact ; an expectation of his coming at such a particular time,
before any one appeared, claiming to be that person, and
where there was no ground for such an expectation but from
the prophecies ; which expectation, therefore, must In all rea- ,
son be presumed to be explanatory to those prophecies, if
there were any doubt about their meaning. It seems more-
over to foretell, that this person should be rejected by that na-
tion, to whom he had been so long promised, and though he
was so much desired by them.f And it expressly foretells,
that he should be the Saviour of the Gentiles ; and even that
the completion of the scheme, contained in this book, and
then bncrun, and in its progress, should be somewhat so great,
that, in comparison with it, the restoration of the Jews alone
would be but of small account. ' It is a light tiling that thou
shouldest be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and to
restore the preserved of Israel : I will also give thee for a light
to the Gentiles, that thou mayest be for salvation unto the
end of the earth.' And, ' In the last days, the mountain of
the Lord's house shall be established in the top of the moun-
tains, and shall be exalted above the hiLU ; and all nations
shall flow into it for out of Zion shall go forth the law, and
the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. And he shall judge
among the nations and the Lord alone shall be exalted in
thuf day, and the idols he shall utterly abolish.'J The Scrip-
ture farther contains an account, that at the time the Messiah
was exp?cted, a person rose up. in this nation, claiming to be
thai Messiah, to be the person whom all the prophecies
* Deut. xxxiii. 64. Ch. xxx. 2, 3. Isa. xlv. 17. Oh. Ix. 21. Jer.
xxr. II. Ch. l-vi. 28. Amos ix. 15. Jer. xxxi. 36.
t Isi.viii 14. 15. Ch. x ir. 5. Ch.liii. Mnl. i. 10, 11. and Oh. iii.
1 Is-i. :i .0. i .ii. .Ch.xi. Ch.l-.-i. 7. Mai. t. 1 i. -To whirl) must
be adJed, the other prophecies of the like kind, several in the New Testa-
ment, and very many in the Old, which describe what shall be the com-
pleti jii of the revealed plan of Providence.
308 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II
referred to, and in whom they should centre ; that he sprnt
some years in a continued course of miraculous works, and
endued his immediate disciples and followers with a power of
doing the same, as a proof of the truth of that religion which
he commissioned them to publish; that, invested \\i:h this
authority and power, they made numerous converts in the
remotest countries, and settled and established his religion -n
the world; to the end of which, the Scripture professes <o
give a prophetic account of the state of this religion amongst
mankind.
Let us now suppose a person utterly ignorant of history, to
have all this related to him, out of the Scriptures. Or, sup-
pose such a one, having the Scriptures put into his hands, to
remark these things in it, not knowing but that the whole,
even its civil history, as well as the other parts of it, might
be, from beginning to end, an entire invention ; and to aek,
What truth was in it, and whether the revelation here related
was real or a fiction ? And, instead of a direct, answer, sup-
pose him, all at once, to be told the following confessed facts ;
and then to unite them into one view.
Let him first be told, in how great a degree the profession
and establishment of natural religion, the belief that there is
one God to be worshipped, that virtue is his law, and that
mankind shall be rewarded and punished hereafter, as they
obey and disobey it here ; in how very great a degree, I say,
the profession and establishment of this moral system in the
world, is owing to the revelation, whether real or supposed,
contained in this book ; the establishment of this moral sys-
tem, even in those countries which do not acknowledge the
proper authority of the Scripture.* Let him be told also,
what number of nations do acknowledge its proper authority.
Let him then take in consideration, of what importance reli-
gion is to mankind. And upon these things, he might, I
think, truly observe, that this supposed revelation's obtaining
and being received in the world, with all the circumstances
and effects of it, considered together as one event, is the most
conspicuous and important event in the. story of mankind :
that a book of this nature, and thus promulged and recom-
mended to our consideration, demands, as if by a voice from
heaven, to have its claim? most seriously examined into ; and
that, before such examination, to treat it wi'h any kind of
ecoffmg and ridicule, is an offence against natural piety. But
* Page 155.
CHAP. VII.] FOR CHRISTIANITY. 3C9
t! is to be remembered, that how much soever the establish-
ment of natural religion in the world is owing to the Scrip-
ture revelation, this does not destroy the proof of religion from
reason, an}' moie th. t ,i the proof of Huciid'a Elemtuls is de-
sToyi.'.l, ly a mans knowing or thinking that he should
n '.;! h ive seen the truth of the several propositions continue.'!
n it. nor had ihose propositions come into his thoughts, bin
br that mathematician.
Lat such a person as we are speaking of, be, in the nexi
1 ic -, informed of the acknowledged antiquity of the first
parts of :his book : and that its chronology, its account of the
time when the earth, and the several parts of it, were first
peopled with human creatures, is no way contradicted, but is
really confirmed, by the natural and civil history of ihe
worl 1, collected from common historians, from the state of the
parh. and the late invention of arts and sciences. And, as
th.; Scripture contains an unbroken thread of common and
civil history, from the creation to the captivity, for between
thr an ! four thousand years; let the person we are speak-
ing of be told, in ths next place, that this general history, as
ii U not contradicted, but is confirmed by profane history, as
much as there would be reason to expect, upon supporition
of i:/; I ruth ; so there is nothing in the whole history itself, to
give any reasonable ground of suspicion, of its not being, in
the* general, a faithful and literally true genealog}' of men,
an 1 series of things. I speak here only of the common
Scripture history, or of the course of ordinary events related
in it, as distinguished from miracles, and from the prophetic
history. In all the Scripture narrations of this kind, following
events arise out of foregoing ones, us in all other histories.
Therfl appears nothing related as done in any age, not con-
formable to the manners of that age ; nothing in the account
of a succeeding age, which on? would say, could not be ti 'e.
or was improbable, from the account of things in the preced
ing one. There is nothing in the characters, which we ild
t rise a thought of their being feigned; but all the intermtj
T arks imaginable of thf>ir being real. It is to be added also,
ihat mere <rpnealo<ries, bare narratives of the number of years
which persons called by such and such names lived, do not
carry trie face of fiction : perhaps do carry some presumption
of veracif v ; and \11 un idorned narratives, which have nothing
to surprise, nny be thought to carry somewhat of the like
pr"-irnp'ion too Airi th* domestic mid the political history
is plainly credible. There may be incidents in Scripture,
S10 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART Jl.
which, taken alone in the naked way they are toM, may ap-
pear strange, especially to persons of other ii-ariiitrs, ten;-
per, education; but there are also incidents of undui.bitd
truth, in nuuiy or most persons' lives, which, in the same cir-
cumstances, would appear to the full as stange. There u a}
be mistakes of transcribers, there may be other real or seeii.iiiij
i'.. intakes, not easy to be particularly accounted for; but \hi-u
are certainly no more things of this kind in the Scriptrre.
than what were to have been expected in books of svuh an-
tiquity ; and noshing, in any wise, sufficient to discredit t he-
general narrative. Now, that a history, claiu.ing to con ; -
mence from the creation, and extending in one continued
series, through so great a length of time, and variety of even; s,
should have such appearances of reality and truth in its whole
contexture, is surely a very remarkable circumstance in i;s
favor. And as all this is applicable to the common history
of ihe New Testament, so there is a further credibility, and
a very high one, given to it by profane authors; many of
these writing of the same times, and confirming the truth of
customs and events, which are incidentally, as well as more
purposely mentioned in it. And this credibility of the com
mon Scripture history, gives some credibility to its miracu
lous hlory ; especially as this is interwoven with the com
mon, so as that they imply each other, and both together
make up one relation.
Let it then be more particularly observed to this person, th t
it is an acknowledged mailer of fact, which is indeed implied
in the foregoing observation, that there was such a nation as
the Jews, of the greatest antiquity, whose government and
general polity was founded on the law, here related to Le
given them by Moses as from Heaven : that natural religion,
though with rites additional, yet no way contrary to it, was
their established religion, which cannot be said of the Gentile
world ; ?.nd that their very being, as a nation, depended upor
their acknowledgment of one God, the God of (he univer.-e
For suppose, in their captivity in Babylon, the} 1 had gone ovej
t( the religion of their conquerors, there would have remaineo
no bond of union, to keep them a distinct people. And whilst
they were under their own kings, in their own country, a to-
tal apostacy from God would have been the dissolution of then
whole government. The-y in such a sense nationally acknow-
ledged and worshipped the Maker of heaven and earth, when
the rest of the world were sunk in idolatry, as rendered them,
in fact, the peculiar people of God. And this so remarkable
CHAP. Til.] FOR CHRISTIANITY. 311
an establishment and preservation of natural religion amor gst
tbem, seems to add some peculiar credibility to the historical
evidence for the miracles of Moses and the prophets ; because
these miracles are a full satisfactory account of this event,
which plainly wants to be accounted for, and cannot ctlier-
\vise.
Let this person, supposed wholly ignorant of history, be
acquainted farther, that one claiming to be the Messiah, of
Jewish extraction, rose up at the time when this nation, ficm
the prophecies above mentioned, expected the Messiah : that
he was rejected, as it seemed to have been foretold he should,
by the body of the people, under the direction of their rulers .
that in the course of a very few years he was believed on,
and acknowledged as the promised Messiah, by great num-
bers among the Gentiles, agreeably to the prophecies of Scrip-
ture, yet not upon the evidence of prophecy, but of miracles,*
of which miracles we also have strong historical evidence;
(by which I mean here no more than must be acknowledged
by unbelievers ; for let pious frauds and follies be admitted to
weaken, it is absurd to say they destroy, our evidence of
miracles wrought in proof of Christianity :)| that this religion
approving itself to the reason of mankind, and carrying its own
evidence with it, so far as reason is a judge of its system, and
being no way contrary to reason in those .parts of it which re-
quire to be believed upon the mere authority of its Author ;
that this religion, I say, gradually spread and supported itself,
for some hundred wars, not only without any assistance from
temporal power, but under constant discouragements, and often
the bitterest persecutions fron. it, and then became the religion
of the world ; that, in the mean time, the Jewish nation and go-
vernment were destroyed in a very remarkable manner, and the
people carried away captive and dispersed through the most
distant countries ; in which state of dispersion they have re-
mained fifteen hundred years ; and that they remain a nume-
rous people, united among themselves, and distinguished from
the rest of the world, as the} 7 were in the days of Moses, by
tho profession of his law, and every where looked upon in a
manner, which one scarce knows how distinctly to express,
bat in the words of the prophetic account of it, given so rrany
ages before it came to pass : 'Thou shall become on astonish-
ment, a proverb, and a byword, among all nations whither the
Lord shall lead thee.'J.
+ Pnge 23', fcc. t Page 243. &c. 1 Deut xxviii. 37
OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART 11
The appearance of a standing miracle, in the Jews remain-
ing a distinct people-in their dispositions, and the confirmation
which this event appears to give to the truth of revelation,
may be thought to be answered, by their religion forbidding
them intermarriages with those of airy other, and prescribing
them a great many peculiarities in then food, by which they
are debarred from the means of incorporating with the people
in whose countries they live. This is not, 1 think, a satisfac-
tory account of that which it pretends to account for. But
what does it pretend to account for ? The correspondence be-
tween this event and the prophecies ; or the coincidence of
both with a long dispensation of Providence, of a peculiar na-
ture, towards that people formerly ? No. It is only the event
itself which is offered to be thus accounted for ; which single
event taken alone, abstracted from all such correspondence
and coincidence, perhaps would not have appeared miracu-
lous ; but that correspondence and coincidence may be so.
though the event itself be supposed not. Thus the concur-
rence of our Saviour's being born at Bethlehem, with a long
foregoing series of prophecy and other coincidences, is doubt-
less miraculous, the series of prophecy, and other coinci-
dences, and the event, being admitted ; though the event itself,
hi birth at that place, appears to have been brought about
in a natural way ; of which, however, no one can be certain
And as several of these events seem, in some degree, ex-
pressly, to have verified the prophetic history already ; so
likewise they may be considered farther, as having a peculiar
aspect towards the full completion of it ; as affording some
presumption that the whole of it shall, one time or other, be
fulfilled. Thus, that the Jews have been so wonderfully pre-
served in their long and wide dispersion ; which is indeed the
direct fulfilling of some prophecies, but is now mentioned only
as looking forward to somewhat yet to come : that natural
religion came forth from Judea, and spread in the degree it
has done over the world, before lost in idolatry ; which, to-
gether with some other things, have distinguished that very
place, in like manner as the people of it are distinguished .
that this great change of religion over the earth, was brought
about under the profession and acknowledgment, that Jesus
was the promised Messiah : things of this irind naturally turn
the thoughts of serious men towards the full completion of
the prophetic history, concerning the final /estoration of that
people ; concerning the establishment of the everlasting king-
dom among them, the kingdom of the Messiah ; and the
CHA. Vlf.J FOR CHRISTIANITY. 313
future state of the world, under this sacred government. Such
circumstances and events compared with these prophecies,
though no completions of them, yet would not, I think, be
spoken of as nothing in the argument, by a person upon his
first being informed of them. Thej r fall in with the prophetic
history of things still future, give it some additional credibility,
have the appearance of being somewhat in order to the full
completion of it.
Indeed it requires a good degree of knowledge, and great
calmness and consideration, to be able to judge, thoroughly, of
the evidence for the truth of Christianity, from that part of
the prophetic history which relates to the situation of the
kingdoms of the world, and to the state of the church, from
the establishment of Christianity to the present time. But it
appears from a general view of it, to be very material. And
those persons who have thoroughly examined it, and some of
them were men of the coolest tempers, greatest capacities,
and least liable to imputations of prejudice, insist upon it as
determinately conclusive.
Suppose now a person quite ignorant of history, first to re-
collect the passages above mentioned out of Scripture, without
knowing but that the whole was a late fiction, then to be in-
formed of the correspondent facts now mentioned, and to unite
them all into one view : that the profession and establishment
of natural religion in the world, is greatly owing, in different
ways, to this book, and the supposed revelation which it con-
tains ; that it is acknowledged to be of the earliest antiquity ;
that its chronology and common history are entirely credible ;
that this ancient nation, the Jews, of whom it chiefly treats,
appear to have been, in fact, the people of God, in a distin-
guished sense ; that as there was a national expectation
amongst them, raised from the prophecies, of a Messiah to
appear at such a time, so one at this time appeared, claiming
to be that Messiah ; that he was rejected by this nation, but
received by the Gentiles, not upon the evidence of prophecj'-,
but of miracles ; that the religion he taught supported itself
under the greatest difficulties, gained ground, and at length
became the religion of the world ; that in the mean time the
Jewish polity was utterly destroyed, and the nation dispersed
over the face of the earth ; that notwithstanding this, they
have remained a distinct numerous people for so many centu-
ries, even to this day ; which not only appears to be the ex-
press completion of several prophecies concerning them ; but
also renders it, as one may speak, a visible and easy pusai-
OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE * [PART II.
bility, that the promises made to them as a nation, may yet
be fulfilled. And to these acknowledged truths, let the per-
son we have been supposing add, as I. think he ought,
whether every one will allow it or no, the obvious appear-
ances which there are, of the state of the world, in other re-
spects besides what relates to the Jews, and of the Christian
church, having so long answered, and still answering to the
prophetic history. Suppose, I say, these facts set over
against the things before mentioned out of the Scripture, and
seriously compared with them; the joint view of both to-
gether, mustj I think, appear of very great weight to a con-
siderate reasonable person : of much greater, indeed, upon
having them first laid before him, than is easy for us, who
are so familiarized to them, to conceive, without some particu-
lar attention for that purpose.
All these things, and the several particulars contained un-
der them, require to be distinctly and most thoroughly ex
amined into ; that the weight of each may be judged of, upon
such examination, and such conclusion drawn as results from
their united force. But this has not been attempted here. 1
have gone no farther than to show, that the geneval imperfect
view of them now given, the confessed historical evidence for
miracles, and the many obvious appearing completions of
prophecy, together with the collateral things* here men-
tioned, and there are several others of the like sort ; that all
this together, which, being fact, must be acknowledged by
unbelievers, amounts to real evidence of somewhat more than
human in this matter : evidence much more important, than
careless men, who have been accustomed only to transient
and partial views of it, can imagine ; and indeed abundantly
sufficient to act upon. And these things, I apprehend, must
be acknowledged by unbelievers. For though they may say,
that the historical evidence of miracles, wrought in attesta-
tion of Christianity, is not sufficient to convince them that
such miracles wej;e really wrought ; they cannot deny, that
ttere is such historical evidence, it being a known matter of
fact that there is. They may say, the conformity between
the prophecies and events, is by accident ; b\it there are many
irstances in which such conformity itself cannot be denied.
They may say, with regard to such kind of collateral things
as those above mentioned, that any odd accidental events,
* All the particular things mentioned in this chapter, not reducible to
the head of certain miracles, or determinate completions of prophecv.
See pages 23^ 235.
CHAP. VII.] FOR CHRISTIANITV. 315
without meaning, will have a meaning found in them by fan
ciful people ; and that such as are fanciful in any one certain
way, will make out a thousand coincidents, which seem to
favor their peculiar follies. Men, I say, may talk thus ; but
no one who is serious, can possibly think these things to be
notiiing, if he considers the importance of collateral things,
and even of lesser circumstances, in the evidence of proba-
bility, as distinguished, in nature, from the evidence of demon-
stration. In many cases, indeed, it seems to require the
truest judgment, to determine with exactness the weight of
circumstantial evidence ; but it is very often altogether as
convincing, as that which is the most express and direct.
This general view of the evidence for Christianity, con-
sidered as making one argument, may also serve to recom-
mend to serious persons, to set down every thing which they
think may be of any real weight at all in proof of it, and par-
ticularly the many seeming completions of prophecj' ; and
they will find, that, judging by the natural rules, by which
we judge of probable evidence in common matters, they
amount to a much higher degree of proof, upon such a joint
review, than could be supposed upon considering them sepa
rately, at different times ; how strong soever the proof might
before appear to them, upon such separate views of it. For
probable proofs, by being added, not only increase the evi-
dence, but multiply it. Nor should I dissuade any one from
setting down what he thought made for the contrary side.
But then it is to be remembered, not in order to influence his
judgment, but his practice, that a mistake on one side, may
be, in its consequences, much more dangerous titan a mistake
on the other. And what course is most safe, and what most
dangerous, is a consideration thought very material, when we
deliberate, not concerning events, but concerning conduct in
our temporal affairs. To be influenced by this consideration
in our judgment, to believe or disbelieve upon it, is indeed as
much prejudice, as any thing whatever. And, like other
prejudices, it operates contrary ways in different men. For
some are inclined to believe what they hope ; and others,
what they fear Arid it is manifest unreasonableness, to
apply to men's passions in order to gain their assent. But
in. deliberations concerning conduct, there is nothing which
reason more requires to be taken into the account,, than the
importance of it. For, suppose it doubtful, what would be
the consequence of acting in this, or in a contrarj' manner;
etill, that taking one side could be attended with little or no
316 OP THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE, &c. [PART 11,
bad consequence, and taking the other might be attended
with the greatest, must appear, to unprejudiced reason, of the
highest moment towards determining how we are to act. But
the truth of our religion, like the truth of common matters, is
to be judged of by all the evidence taken together. And unless
the whole series of things which may be alleged in this aigu-
ment, and every particular thing in it, can reasonably be sup-
p jsed to have been by accident, (for here the stress of the argu-
ment for Christianity lies,) then is the truth of it proved : in like
manner as if, in any common case, numerous events acknow-
ledged, were to be alleged in proof of any other event dis-
puted ; the proof of the disputed event would be proved, not
only if any one of the acknowledged ones did of itself clearly
imply it, but, though no one of them singly did so, if the
whole of the acknowledged events taken together, could not
hi reason be supposed to have happened, unless the disputed
one were true.
It is obvious, how much advantage the nature of this evi
dence gives to those persons who attack Christianity, espe-
cially in conversation. For it is easy to show, in a short and
lively manner, that such and such things are liable to objec-
tion, that this and another thing is of little weight in itself;
but impossible to show, in like manner, the united force of
the whole argument in one view.
However, lastly, as it has been made appear, that there is
no presumption against a revelation as miraculous ; that the
general scheme of Christianity, and the principal purts of it,
are conformable to the experienced constitution of things, and
the whole perfpctly credible ; so the account now given ot the
positive evidence for it, shows, that this evidence is such, as,
from the nature of it, cannot be destroyed, though it shouUl
be lessened
CHAP. VIII.] OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE AVALOGT, &C. 317
CHAPTER VIII.
Of the Objections which may be made against arguing from
ike Analogy of Nature to Religion.
IF everyone would consider, with such attention as they
are bound, even in point of morality, to consider, what they
judge and give characters of, the occasion of this chapter
would be, in some good measure at least, superseded. But
since this is not to expected ; for some we find do not concern
'.hemselves to understand even what they write against :
since this treatise, in common with most others, lies open to
abjections, which may appear very material to thoughtful men
\t first sight : and, besides that, seems peculiarly liable to the
cbjections of such as can judge without thinking, and of such
as can censure without judging ; it may not be amiss to set
down the chief of these objections which occur to me, and con-
sider them to their hands. And they are such as these :
" That it is a poor thing" to solve difficulties in revelation, by
saying, that there are the same in natural religion ; when what
is wan ling is to clear both of them, of these their common, as
well as other their respective, difficulties : but that it is a
strange way indeed of convincing men of the obligations of re-
ligion, to ?how them that they have as little reason for their
worldly pursuits ; and a strange way of vindicating the justice
and goodness of the Author of nature, and of removing the ob-
jections against both, to which the system of religion lies open,
to show, that the like objections lie against natural providence;
a way of answering objections against religion, without so
much as pretending to make out, that the system of it, or the
particular things in it objected against, are reasonable espe-
cially, perhaps, some may be inattentive enough to add, must
this be thought strange, when it is confessed that analogy is
no answer to such objections : that when this sort of reason-
2"*
318 OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY [PART II.
ing is carried to the utmost length it can be imagined capable
of, it will yet leave the mind in a very unsatisfied state; and
that it must be unaccountable ignorance of mankind, to ima-
gine they will be prevailed with to forego their present inter-
ests and pleasures, from regard to religion, upon doubtful evi-
dence/'
Now, as plausible'as this way of talking may appear, that
appearance will be found in a great measure owing to half-
views, which show but part of an object, yet show tha indis-
tinctly ; and to undeterminate language. By these means
weak men are often deceived by others, and ludicrous men by
themselves. And even those who are serious and considerate
cannot always readily disentangle, and at once clearly see
through the perplexities in which subjects themselves are iii-
volved ; and which are heightened by the deficiencies and the
abuse of words. To this latter sort of persons, the following
reply to each part of this objection severally, may be of some
assistance ; as it may also tend a little to stop and silence
others.
First, The thing wanted, i. e. what men require, is to have
all difficulties cleared. And this is, or, at least for any thing we
know to the contrary, it may be, the same, as requiring to com-
prehend the divine nature, and the whole plan of Providence
from everlasting. But it hath always been allowed to argue,
from what is acknowledged to what is disputed. And it is in
no other sense a poor thing, to argue from natural religion to re-
vealed, in the manner found fault with, than it is to argue in
numberless other ways of probable deduction and inference,
in matters of conduct, which we are continually reduced to the
necessity of doing. Indeed the epithet poor may be applied,
I fear, as properly to great part, or the whole, of human life, as
it is to the things mentioned in the objection. Is it not a poor
thing, for a physician to have so little knowledge in the cure of
diseases, as even the most eminent have 1 To act upon con-
iecture and guess, where the life of man is concerned ? Un-
doubtedly it is : but not in comparison of having no skill at
all in that useful art, and being obliged to act wholly in the
dark.
Further : Since it is as unreasonable as it is common, to
ursre objections against revelation, which are of equal weiorht
against ratural religion ; and those who do this, if they areuot
confuted themselves, deal unfairly with others, in making it
seem that they are arguing only against revelation, or particu-
lar doctrines of it, when in reality they are arguing against
CHAP, viii.] OF NATURE TO RELIGION. 319
moral providence ; it is a thing of consequence to show, thai
such objections are as much levelled against natural religion,
as against revealed. And objections, which are equally ap-
plicable to both, are, properly speaking, answered, by its
being shown that they are so, provided the former be admitted
to be true. And without taking in the consideration how
distinctly this is admitted, it is plainly very material to ob-
serve, that as the things objected against in natural religion,
are of the same kind with what is certain matter of experi-
ence in the course of providence, and in the information which
God affords us concerning our temporal interest under his go-
vernment ; so the objections against the system of Christi-
anity and the evidence of it, are. of the very same kind with
those which are made against the system and evidence of
natural religion. However, the reader upon review may see,
that most of the analogies insisted upon, even in the latter
part of this treatise, do not necessarily require to have more
taken for granted than is in the former ; thaUthere is an Au-
thor of nature, or natural Governor of the world ; and Chris-
tianity is vindicated, not from its analogy to natural religion,
but chiefly, from its analogy to the experienced constitution
of nature.
Secondly, Religion is a practical thing, and consists in such
a determinate course of life ; as being what, there is reason
to think, is commanded by the Author of nature, and will,
upon the whole, be our happiness under his government.
Now if men can be convinced that they have the like reason
to believe this, as to believe that taking care of their temporal
affairs will be to their advantage , such conviction cannot
but be an argument to ihem for the practice of religion. And
if there be really any reason for believing one of these, and
endeavouring to preserve life, and secure ourselves the neces-
saries and conveniences of it ; then there is reason also for
believing the other, and endeavouring to secxire the interest it
proposes to us. And if the interest which religion proposes
to us be infinitely greater than our whole temporal interest,
then there must be proporiionably greater reason for endea-
vouring to secure one, than the other : since by the supposi-
tion, the probability of our securing one, is equal to the pro-
bability of our securing the other. This seems plainly unan-
swerable ; and has a tendency to influence fair minds, who
consider what our condition really is, or upon what evidence
we are naturally appointed to act ; and who are disposed to
acq'iiesce in the terms upon which we live, and attend to and
320 OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY [PART 11
follow that practical instruction, whatever it be, which is
affoided us.
But the chief and proper force of the argument referred to
in the objection, lies in another place. For it is said, that the
proof of religion is involved in such inextricable difficulties, as
tc render it doubtful ; and that it cannot be supposed, that if
it were true, it would be left upon doubtful evidence. Here,
then, over and above the force of each particular difficulty or
objection, these difficulties and objections, taken together, are
turned into a positive argument against the truth of religion ;
which argument would stand thus. If religion were true, >t
would not be left doubtful, and open to objections to the de-
gree in which it is ; therefore, that it is thus left, not only ren-
ders the evidence of it weak, and lessens its force, in propor-
tion to the weight of such objections ; but also shows it to be
false, or is a general presumption of its being so. Now the
observation, that from tlje natural constitution and course of
things, we must in our temporal concerns, almost continually,
and in matters of great consequence, act upon evidence of a
like kind and degree to the evidence of religion, is an answer
to this argument ; because it shows, that it is according to
the conduct and character of the Author of nature to appoint
we should act upon evidence like to that, which this argu-
ment presumes he cannot be supposed to appoint we should
act upon : it is an instance, a general one made up of nu-
merous particular ones, of somewhat in his dealing with us,
similar to what is said to be incredible. And as the force of
this answer lies merely in the parallel which there is between
the evidence for religion and for our temporal conduct ; the
answer is equally just and conclusive, whether the parallel be
made out, by showing the evidence of the former to be higher,
or the evidence of the latter to be lower.
Thirdly, The design of this treatise is not to vindicate the
character of God, but to show the obligations of men ; it is
not to justify his providence, but to show what belongs to us
to do. These are two subjects, and ought not to be con-
founded. And though they may at length run up into each
other, yet observations may immediately tend to make out
the latter, which do not appear, by any immediate connexion,
to the purpose of the former ; which is less our concern than
many seem to think. For, 1st, It is not necessary we should
justify the dispensations of Providence against objections, any
farther than to show, that the things objected against may
for aught we know, be consistent with justice and goodness.
CHAP. VIII.] OF NATURE TO RELIGION. 321
Suppose, then, that there are things in the sj'stem of this
world, and plan of Providence relating to it, which taken alone
would be unjust ; yet it has been shown unanswerably, that
if we could take in the reference which these things may
have to other things present, past, and to come ; to the whole
scheme, which the things objected against are parts of; these
very things might; for aught we know, be found to be, no*
only consistent with justice, but instances of it. Indeed it has
been shown, by the analogy of what we see, not only possi-
ble that this may be the case, but credible that it is. And
thus objections, drawn from such things, are answered, and
Providence is vindicated, as far as religion makes its vindica-
tion necessary. Hence it appears, 2dly, That objections
against the divine justness and goodness are not endeavoured
to be removed, by showing that the like objections, allowed
to be really conclusive, lie against natural providence : but
those objections being supposed and shown not to be conclu-
sive, the things objected against, considered as matters of
fact, are farther shown to be credible, from their conformity to
the constitution of nature ; for instance, that God will reward
and punish men for their actions hereafter, from the observa-
tion that he does reward and punish them for their actions
here. And this, I apprehend, is of weight. And I add, 3e%,
ft would be of weight, even though those objections were not
answered. For, there being the proof of religion above set
down, and religion implying several facts ; for instance, again,
the fact last mentioned, that God will reward and punish men
for their actions hereafter ; the observation that his present
method of government is by rewards and punishments, shows
that future fact not to be incredible ; whatever objections men
may think they have against it, as unjust or unmerciful, ac-
cording to their notions of justice and mercy ; or as improba-
ble from their belief of necessity. I say, as improbable ; for
it is evident no objection against it, as unjust, can be urgiid
from necessity ; since this notion as much destroys injustice,
as it does justice. Then, 4//1/2/, Though objections against
the reasonableness of the system of religion, cannot indeed be
answered without entering into a consideration of its reasona-
bleness, yet objections against the credibility or truth of it
may. Because the system of it is reducible into what is pro-
perly matter of fact; and the truth, the probable truth, of facts,
may be shown without consideration of their reasonableness.
Nor is it necessary, though, in some cases and respects, it is
highly useful and proper, yet it is not necessary, to give a proof
322 OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY [PART II.
of the reasonableness of every precept enjoined us, and of
every particular dispensation of Providence, which corr.es into
the system of religion. Indeed the more thoroughly a person
of a right disposition is convinced of the perfection of the divine
nature and conduct, the farther he will advance towards that
perfection of religion, which St John speaks of.* But tho
general obligations of religion are fully made out, by proving
the reasonableness of the practice of it. And that the prac-
tice of religion is reasonable, may be shown, though no n.ore
could be proved, than that the system of it may be so, for
aught we know to the contrary ; and even without entering
into the distinct consideration of this. And from hence, bthly,
It is easy to see, that though the analogy of nature is not an
immediate answer to objections against the \\isdom, the jus-
tice, or goodness, of any doctrine or precept of religion ; yet
it may be, as it is, an immediate and direct answer to \i hat is
really intended by such objections ; which is, to show that
the things objected against are incredible.
Fourthly, It is most readily acknowledged, that the fore-
going Treatise is by no means satisfactory ; very far indeed
from it : but so would any natural institution of life appear, if
reduced into a system, together with its evidence. Leav
ing leligion out of the case, men are divided in their opinions,
whether our pleasures over-balance our pains ; and \v h ether
it be, or be not, eligible to live in this world. And were all
such controversies settled, which, perhaps, in speculation
would be found involved in great difficulties ; and were it de-
termined, upon the evidence of reason, as nature has deter-
mined it to our hands, that life is to be preserved ; yet still,
the rules which God has been pleased to. afford us, for escap-
ing the miseries of it, and obtaining ils satisfactions, the rules,
for instance, of preserving health and recovering it w hen lost,
are not only fallible, and precarious, but very far from being
exact. Nor are we informed by nature, in future contin-
gencies and accidents, so as to render it at all certain, what is
the best method of managing our affairs. What will be the
success of our temporal pursuits, in the common sense of the
word success, is highly doubtful. And what will be the suc-
cess of them, in the proper sense of the word ; i. e. what hap-
piness or enjoyment we shall obtain by them, is doubtful in a
much higher degree. Indeed, the unsatisfactory nature of
the evidence, with which we are obliged to take up, in the
* 1 John iv. 18.
CHAP. Till."] OF NATURE TO RELIGION. 323
daily course of life, is scarce to be expressed. Yet men do
not throw away life, or disregard the interests of it, upon ac-
count of this doubtfulness. The evidence of religion then
being admitted real, those who object against it, as not satis-
factory, i. e. as not being what they wish it, plainly forget
the very condition of our being ; for satisfaction, in this sense,
does not belong to such a creature as man. And, which is
more material, they forget also the very nature of religion
For, religion presupposes, in all those who will embrace ir, a
certain degree of integrity and honesty ; which it was in
tended to try whether men have or not, and to exercise in
such as have it, in order to its improvement. Religion pre-
supposes this as much, and in the same sense, as speaking to
a man presupposes lie understands the language in which
you speak.; or as warning a man of any danger, presupposes
that he has such a regard to himself, as that he will endeavour
to avoid it. And therefore the question is not at all, Whether
the evidence of religion be satisfactory ? but, Whether it be,
in reason, sufficient to ptove and discipline that, virtue which
it presupposes ? Now, the evidence of it is fully sufficient for
all those purpost?s of probation ; how far soever it is from
being satisfactory, as to the purposes of curiosity, or any
other : and indeed it answers the purposes of the former in
several respects, which it would not do, if it were as over-
bearing a? is required. One might add farther, that whether
the motives, or the evidence for any course of actions, be satis-
factory, meaning here by that word, what satisfies a man,
that such a course of action will in event be for his good :
this need never be, and I ll.ink, strictly speaking, never is,
thf practical question in common matters. But the practical
question in all cases, is, Whether the evidence for a course of
action be such, as, taking in all circumstances, makes the
faculty within us, which is the guide and judge of conduct,*
determine that course of action to be prudent? Indeed, satis-
faction that it will be for our interest or happiness, abundantly
determines an action to be prudent ; but evidence, almost ir
finitely lower than this, determines actions to be eo too, even
in the conduct of every day.
Fifthly, As to the objection concerning the influence which
this argument, or any part of it, may, or may not, be expected
to hive upon men, I observe, as above, that religion being in-
tended for a trial and exercise of the morality of every person's
* See Dissertation 2.
OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOG! [PART II
charade; \vho is a subject of it ; and there being, as I have
shown, such evidence for it, as is sufficient, in reason, to influ-
ence men to embrace it ; to object, that it is not to be ima-
gined mankind will be influenced by such evidence, is nothing
to the purpose of the foregoing Treatise. For the purpose of
t is not to inquire, What sort of creatures mankind are ; but,
VVJ at the light and knowledge, which is afforded them, re-
quires they should be ? to show how, in reason, they ought
to behave ; not how, in fact, they will behave. This de-
pends upon themselves, and is their own concern ; the per-
sonal concern of each man in particular. And how little re-
gard the generality have to it, experience, indeed, does too
fully shoA'. But religion, considered as a probation, has had
its nd upon all persons, to whom it has been proposed, with
evidence sufficient in reason to influence their practice ; for
by this means they have been put into a state of probation ;
let them behave as they will in it. And thus, not only reve-
lation, but reason also, teaches us, that, by the evidence of re-
ligion being laid before men, the designs of Providence are
carrying on, not only with regard to those who will, but like-
wise with regard to those who will not, be influenced by it.
However, lastly, the objection here referred to, allows the
things insistH upon in this Treatise to be of some weight ;
an i if so, it m u v V>e hoped it will have some influence. And
if there be a probabi i; :y that it will have any at all, there is
the same reason in kind, though not in degree, to lay it before
men, as there would be, if it were likely to have a greater in-
fluence.
And farther, I desire it may be considered, with respect to the
whole of the foregoing objections, that in this Treatise I have
argued upon the principles of others,* not my own ; and have
omined what I think true, and of the most importance, because
by othsrs thought unintelligible, or not true. Thus I have
argued upon the principles of the Fatalists, which I do not
believe ; and have omitted a thing of the utmost importance,
which I do believe, the moral fitness and unfitness of actions,
prior to all will whatever ; which I apprehend as certainly to
determine the divine conduct, as speculative truth and false-
hood necessarily determine ihe divine judgment. Indeed
* By arguing upon the principles of others, the reader will observe is
meant, not proving any thing/rom those principles, but notwithstanding
them. Thus religion is proved, not /ram the opinion of necessity, whicn
is absurd, but notwithstanding or even though that opinion were admitted
to be true.
CHAP. VIII.] OF NATURE TO RELIGION. 325
*_be principle of liberty, and that of moral fitness so fore?
thernselves upon the mind, that moralists, the ancients us \veLI
as moderns, have formed iheir language upon it. And probably
it may appear in mine, though I have endeavoured to avoid it :
an.! in order to avoid it, have sometimes been obliged to ex-
press myself in a manner which will appear strange to ?"cb
as do not observe the reason for it : but the general argument
here pursued does not at all suppose, or proceed upon, these
principles. Now, these two abstract principles of liberty ami
moral fitness being omitted, religion can be considered in no
other view than merely as a question of fact ; and in this view
it is here considered. It is obvious, that Christianity, and the
proof of it, are both historical. And even natural religion is,
properly, a matter of fact. For, that there is a righteous
Governor of the world, is so ; and this proposition contains
the general system of natural religion. But then, several al-
stract truths, and in particular those two principles, are
usually taken into consideration in the proof of it ; whereas it
is here treated of only as a matter of fact. -To explain this :
that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones,
is an abstract truth ; but that they appear so to our mind, is
only a matter of fact. And this last must have b^en ad-
mitted, if any thing was, by those ancient sceptics, who would
not have admitted the former ; but pretend to doubt, Whether
there were any such thing as truth ; or, Whether we could
certainly depend upon our faculties of understanding for the
knowledge of it in any case. So likewise, that there is, in
the nature of things, an original standard of right and wrong
in actions, independent upon all will, but which unalterably
determines the will of God, to exercise that moral government
over the world which religion teaches, t. e. finally and upon
the whole lo reward and punish men respectively as they act
right or wrong ; this assertion contains an abstract truth, as
well as matter of fact. But suppose in the present stale,
every man, without exception, was rewarded and punished,
in exact proportion as he followed or transgressed that sense
of right and wrong, which God has implanted in the nature
of t rery man ; this would not be at all an abstract truth, but
only a matter of fact. And though this fact were acknow-
ledged by every one, yet the very game difficuHies might be
raised, as are now, concerning the abstract questions of liberty
and moral fitness : and we should have a proof, even the cer-
tain one of experience, that the government of the world was
perfectly moral, without taking in the consideration of those
23
326 OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY [PAUT II,
questions : and this proof would remain, in what way soever
they were determined. And thus, God having given man-
kind a moral faculty, the object of which is actions, and
which naturally approves some actions as right and of good
desert, and condemns others as wrong and of ill desert : that
he will, finally and upon the whole, reward the former and
punish the latter, is riot an assertion of an abstract truth, but
01 what is as mere a fact as his doing so at present would be.
This future fact I have not indeed proved with the force with
whic'i it might be proved, from the principles of liberty and
moral fitness ; but without them have given a really conclu-
sive practical proof of it, which is greatly strengthened by the
general analogy of nature ; a proof easily cavilled at, easily
shown not to be demonstrative, for it is not offered as such ;
but impossible, I think, to be evaded_or answered. And thus
the obligations of religion are made out, exclusively of the
questions concerning liberty and moral fitness ; which have
been perplexed with difficulties and abstruse reasonings, as
every thing may.
Hence, therefore, may be observed distinctly, what is the
force of this Treatise. It will be, to such as are convinced
of religion, upon the proof arising out of the two last men-
tioned principles, an additional proof and a confirmation of it ;
to such as do not admit those principles, an original proof of
it,* and a confirmation of that proof. Those who believe,
will here find the scheme of Christianity cleared of objections,
and the evidence of it in a peculiar manner strengthened
those who do not believe, will at least be shown the absurdity
of all attempts to prove Christianity false, the plain undoubted
credibility of it, and, I hope, a good deal more.
And thus, though some perhaps may seriously think, that
analogy, as here urged, has too great stress laid upon i; ; and
ridicule, unanswerable ridicule, may be applied, to show tl.e
argument from it in a disadvantageous light : yet there can
be no question, but that it is a real one. For religion, both
natural and revealed, implying in it numerous facts ; analogy
being a confirmation of all facts to which it can be applied,
as it is the only proof of most, cannot but be admitted by
every one to be a material thing, and truly of weight on the
side of religion, both natural and revealed ; and it ought o
be particularly regarded by such as profess to follow nature,
and to be less satisfied with abstract reasonings.
* Pages 139 140, &<x
PAHT II. 1 CONCLUSION. 327
CONCLUSION.
WHATEVER account may be given, of the strange inatten-
tion and disregard, in some ages and countries, to a matter of
such importance as religion, it would, before experience, be
incredible, that there should be the like disregard in those,
who have had the moral system of the world laid before them,
as it is by Christianity, and often inculcated upon them ; be-
cause this moral system carries in it a good degree of evi-
dence for its truth, upon its being barely proposed to our
thoughts. There is no need of abstruse reasonings and dis-
tinctions, to convince an unprejudiced understanding, that
there is a God who made ard governs the world, and who
will judge it in righteousness ; though they may be necessary
to answer abstruse difficulties, when once such are raised ;
when the very meaning of those words, which express most
intelligibly the general doctrine of religion, is pretended to be
uncertain, and the clear truth of the thing itself is obscured
by the intricacies of speculation. But, to an unprejudiced
mind, ten thousand thousand instances of design, cannot but
prove a Designer. And it is intuitively manifest, that crea-
tures ought to live under a dutiful sense of their Maker : and
that justice and charity must be his laws, to creatures whom
he has made social, and placed in society. Indeed, the truth
of revealed religion, peculiarly so called, is not self-evident,
but requires external proof, in order to its being received.
Yet inattention, among. us, to revealed religion, will be found
to imply the same dissolute immoral temper of mind, as inat-
tention to natural religion ; because, when both are laid be-
fore us, in the manner they are in Christian countries of
liberty, our obligations to inquire into both, and to embrace
both upon supposition of their truth, are obligations of the
same nature. For, revelation claims to be the voice of God ;
and our obligation to attend to his voice, is, surely, moral in
all cases. And as it is insisted, that its evidence is conclu-
sive, upon thorough consideration of it ; so it offers itself to us
328 CONCLUSION. . [PART n.
with manifest obvious appearances of naving something 1 more
than human in it, and therefore in all reason requires to have
its claims most seriously examined into. It is to be added,
that though light and knowledge, in what manner soever
afforded us, is equally from God ; yet a miraculous revelation
has a peculiar tendency, from the first principles of our nature,
to awaken mankind, and inspire them with reverence and
awe; and this is a peculiar obligation, to attend to what
claims to be so with such appearances of truth. It is therefore
most certain, that our obligations to inquire seriously into the
evidence of Christianity, and, upon supposition of its truth, to
embrace it, are of the utmost importance, and moral in the
highest and most proper sense. Let us then suppose, that
the evidence of religion in general, and of Christianity, has
lr>en seriously inquired into by all reasonable men among us.
Yet we find many professedly to reject both, upon specula-
tive principles of infidelity. And all of them do not content
themselves with a bare neglect of religion, and enjoying
their imaginary freedom from its restraints. Some go much
beyond this. They deride God's moral government over the
world : they renounce his protection, and defy his justice :
the}' ridicule and vilify Christianity, and blaspheme the Au-
thor of it ; and take all occasions to manifest a scorn and con-
tempt of revelation. This amounts to an active setting them-
selves against religion ; to what may be considered as a posi-
tive principle of irreligion ; which th~y cultivate within them-
selves, and, -whether they intend this effect or not, render
habitual, as a good man does the contrary principle. And
others, who are not chargeable with all this profligateness,
yet are in avowed opposition to religion, as if discovered to be
groundless. Now admitting, which is the supposition we go
upon, that these persons act upon what they think principles
of reason, and otherwise they are not to be argued with ; it
is leally inconceivable, that they should imagine they clearly
see the whole evidence of it, considered" in itself, to be nothing
at all ; nor do they pretend this. They are far indeed from
having a just notion of its evidence ; but they would not say
its evidence was nothing, if they thought the system of it,
with all its circumstances, were credible, like other matters of
science or history. So that their manner of treating it must
proceed, either from such kind of objections against all reli-
gion, as have been answered or obviated in the former part of
this Treatise ; or else from objections and difficulties, supposed
xaoie peculiar to Christianity. Thus, they entertain preju
PART H.J CONCLUSION. 329
dices against the whole notion of a revelation and mirar uloug
interpositions. They find things in Scripture, whether in in-
cidental passages or in the general scheme of it, which ap
pear to them unreasonable. They take for granted, that ii
Christianity were true, the light of it must have been more
general, and the evidence of it more satisfactory, or rather
overbearing ; that it must and would have been, in some way,
otherwise put and left, than it is. Now, this is not imagining
they see the evidence itself to be nothing, or inconsiderable ;
but quite another thing. It is being fortified against the evi-
dence, in some degree acknowledged, by Chinking they see
the system of Christianity, or somewhat which appears to
.hem necessarily connected with it, to be incredible or false ;
fortified against that evidence, which might, otherwise, make
great impression upon them. Or, lastly, if any of these per-
sons are, upon the whole', in doubt concerning the trutn of
Christianity, their behaviour seems owing to their taking for
granted, through strange inattention, that such doubting is, in
a manner, the same thing as being certain against it.
To these persons, and to this state of opinion concerning re-
ligion, the foregoing Treatise is adapted. For, all the ge-
neral objections against the moral system of nature having
been obviated, it is shown, that there is not any peculiar pre-
sumption at all against Christianity, either considered as not
discoverable by reason, or as unlike to what is so discovered ;
nor any worth mentioning, against it as miraculous, if any at
all : none certainly, which can render it in the least incredible.
It is shown, that upon supposition of a divine revelation, the
analogy of nature renders it beforehand highly credible, 1
think probable, that many things in it must appear liable to
great objections ; and that we must be incompetent judges of
t, to a great degree. This observation is, I think, unques-
tionably true, and of the very utmost importance : but it is
urged, as I hope it will be understood, with great caution of
not vilifying the faculty of reason, which is ' the candle of the
Lord within us ;'* though it can afford no light, where it does
not shine : nor judge, where it has no principles to judge
npon. The objections here spoken of, being first answered
in the view of objections against Christianity as a matter of
fact, are in the next place considered as urged more immedi-
ately against the wisdom, justice, and goodness of the Chris-
ian dispensation. And it is fully made out, that they admit
* Pi Or. XX. 27
23*
330 CONCLUSION. [PART n
of exactly the like answer, in every respect, to wnat the lika
objections against the constitution of nature admit of: that, as
partial views give the appearance of wrong to things, which
upon farther consideration and knowledge of their relations to
other things, are found just and good ; so it is perfectly credi-
ble, that the things objected against the wisdom and goodness
of the Christian dispensation, may be rendered instances of
wisdom and goodness by their reference to olher things be-
yond our view : because Christianity is a scheme as much
above our comprehension, as that of nature ; and, like that, a
scheme in which means are made use of to accomplish ends,
and which, as is most credible, may be carried on by general
laws. And it ought to be attended to, that this is not an an-
swer taken merely or chiefly from our ignorance ; but from
somewhat positive, which our observation shows us. For, to
like objections, the like answer is experienced to be just, in
numberless parallel cases. The objections against the Chris-
tian dispensation, and the method by which it is carried on,
having been-thus obviated, in general and together: the chief
of them are considered distinctly, and the particular things
objected to are shown credible, by their perfect analogy, each
part, to the constitution of nature. Thus, if man be fallen
from his primitive state, and to be restored, and infinite wis-
dom and power engages in accomplishing our recovery ; it
were to have been expected, it is said, that this should have
been effected at once, and not by such a long series of means,
and such a various economy of persons and things ; one dis-
pensation preparatory to another, this to a farther one, and so
on through an indefinite number of ages, before the end of the
scheme proposed can be completely accomplished ; a scheme
conducted by infinite wisdom, and executed by Almighty
power. But now, on the contrary, our finding that every
thing in the constitution and course of nature is thus carried
on, shows such expectations concerning revelation to be
highly unreasonable ; and is a satisfactory answer to them,
when urged as objections against the credibility, that the
great, scheme of Providence in the redemption of the world,
rnay be of this kind, and to be accomplished in this manner.
As to the particular method of our redemption, the appoint-
ment of a Mediator between God and man ; this has been
shown to be most obviously analogous to the general con-
duct of nature, i. e. the God of nature, in appointing others to
be the instruments of his mercy, as we experience in the
daily course of Providence. The condition of this world
PART II.] CONCLUSION. 331
which the doctrine of our redemption by Christ presupposes,
so much falls in with natural appearances, that heathen
moralist inferred it from those appearances ; inferred, that
human nature. was fallen from its original rectitude, and, in
consequence of this, degraded from its primitive happiness.
Or, however this opinion came into the world, these appear-
ances must have kept up the tradition, and confirmed the be-
lief of it. And it was the genera! opinion, under the light of
nature, that r'pe.'itance aud r^-iorrnation, alone and by itself,
was not sufficient to do av.-ay sin, and procure a full remission
of the penalties annexed to it ; and as the reasoii of the thing
does not at all lead to any conclusion ; so every day's expe-
rience shows us that reformation is not, m any sort, sufficient
to prevent the present disadvantages anJ u.,se. V's, which, in
the natural course of things, God has annexed to foJ'y auu
extravagance. Yet there may be ground to think, that the
punishments, which by the general laws of divine govern-
ment, are annexed to vice, may be prevented; ihat pro-
vision may have been, even originally, made, that they should
be prevented by some means or other, though they could not
by reformation alone. For we have daily instances of such
mercy, in the general conduct of nature ; compassion pro-
vided for misery,* medicines for diseases, friends against ene-
mies. There is provisions made, in the original constitution
of the world, that much of. the natural bad consequences of
our follies, which persons themselves alone cannot prevent,
may be prevented by the assistance of others ; assistance,
which nuure enables, and disposes, and appoints them to
afford. By a method of goodness analogous to this, when
the world lay in wickedness, and consequently in ruin, ' God
so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son' to
save it ; and ' he being made perfect by suffering, became
the author of eternal salvation to all them that obey him.'f
Indeed, neither reason nor analogy would lead us to think, in
p micular, that the interposition of Christ, in the manner in
which tie did interpose, would be of that efficacy for recovery
of the world, which the Scripture teaches us it was: but
neither would reason nor analogy lead us to think, that other
particular means would be of the efficacy, which experience
shows they are, in numberless instances. And therefore, as
the case before us does no ,dmit of experience, so ihat neither
reason nor analogy can show how, or in what particular way,
* Sermon 6th, at the Rolls. f Jhn iii. 16. Heb. v. 9.
332 CONCLUSION. [PART n
the interposition of Christ, as revealed in Scripture, is of that
efficacy which it is there represented to be ; this is no kinJ
nor degree of presumption against its being really of that effi-
cacy. Farther : the objections against Christianit}*, from the
light of it not being universal, nor its evidence so strong as
might possibly be given us, have been answered by the ge
noral analogy of nature. That God has made such varic: \
of creatures, is indeed an answer to the former ; but that he
dispenses his gifts in such variety, both of degrees and kind;-,
amongst creatures of the same species, and even to the same
individuals at different times, is a more obvious and full an-
swer to it. And it is so far from being the method of Provi-
dence, in other cases, to afford us such overbearing evid( nee
as some require in proof of Christianity, that, on the contrary,
the evidence upon which we are naturally appointed to act in
common matters, throughout a very great part of life, is
doubtful in a high degree. And, admitting the fact, that
God has afforded to some no more than doubtful evidence ol
religion, the same account may be given of it, as of difficul-
ties and temptations with regard to practice. But as it is not
impossible,* surely, that this alleged doubtfulness may be
men's own fault, it deserves their most serious consideration,
whether it be not so. However, it is certain that doubting
implies a degree of evidence for that of which we doubt, and
that this degree of evidence as really lays us under obliga-
tions, as demonstrative evidence.
The whole then of religion is throughout credible ; nor is
th^re, I think, any thing relating to the revealed dispensation
of things more different from the experienced constitution and
course of nature, than some parts of the constitution of nature
are from other parts' of it. And if so, the only question which
remains is, What positive evidence can be alleged for the truth
of Christianity ? This too, in general, has been considered,
and the objections against, it estimated. Deduct therefore what
is to be deducted from that evidence, upon account of i\ny
weight which may be thought to remain in these objecticns,
after what the analogy of nature has suggested in answer to
them; and then'consider what are the practical consequences
from all this, upon the most sceptical principles one can argue
upon, (for T am writing to persons who entertain these princi-
ples :) and, upon such consideration, it will be obvious, that iin
morality, as little excuse as it admits of in itself, i> greatly
* Page 230, &c.
PAttT 1I.J CONCLUSION. 333
aggravated, in persons who have been made acquainted with
Christianity, whether they believe it or not ; because the moral
system of nature, or natural religion, which Christianity lays
before us, approves itself, almost intuitively, to a reasonable
mind, upon seeing it proposed. In the next place, with regard
to Christianity it will be observed, that there is a middle, be-
tween a full satisfaction of the truth of it, and the satisfaction
of the contrary. The middle state of mind between these
two consists in a serious apprehension that it may be true,
joined with doubt, whether it be so. And this, upon the best
judgment I am able to make, is as far towards speculative in-
fidelity, as any sceptic can at all be supposed to go, who has
had true Christianity, with the proper evidence of it, laid be-
foie him, and has in any tolerable measure considered them.
For I would not be mistaken to comprehend all who have
ever heard of it; because it seems evident, that, in many
countries called Christian, neither Christianity, nor its evi-
dence, are fairly laid before men. And in places where both
are, there appear to be some who have very little attended to
either, and who reject Christianity with a scorn proportionate
to their inattention ; and yet are by no means without under-
standing in other matters. Now it has been shown, that a se-
rious apprehension that Christianity may be true, lays per-
sons under the strictest obligations of a serious regard to it,
throughout the whole of their life ; a regard not the same
exactly, but in many respects nearly the same with what a
full conviction of its truth would lay them under. Lastly, it
will appear, that blasphemy and profaneness, I mean with
regard to Christianity, are absolutely without excuse. For
there is no temptation to it, b\vt. from the wantonness of vanity
or mirth ; and these, considering the infinite importunes of
the subject, are no such temptations as to afford any excuse
for it. If this be a just account of things, and yet. men f -&\.
go on to vilify or disregard Christianity, which is to talk and
act as if they had a demonstration of its falsehood ; there 13
i MI reason to think they would alter their behaviour to any
purpose, thiugh there were a demonstration of its truth
03i Of PERSONAL IDENTITY. I DIM I
DISSERTATION I.
OF PERSONAL IDENTITY.
WHETHER we are to live in a future state, as it is the most
important question which can possibly be asked, so it is the
most intelligible one which can be expressed in language.
Yet strange perplexities have been raised about the meaning
of that identity, or sameness of person, which is implied in the
notion of our living now and hereafter, or in any two suc-
cessive moments. And the solution of these difficulties hath
been stranger than the difficulties themselves. For, personal
identity has been explained so by some, as to render the in-
quiry concerning a future life of no consequence at all to us,
the persons who are making it. And though few men can
be misled by such subtleties, yet it may be proper a little to
consider them.
Now, when it Is asked wherein personal identity consists,
the answer should be the same as if it were asked, wherein
consists similitude or equality ; that all attempts to define,
would but perplex it. Yet there is no difficulty at all in as-
certaining the idea. For as, upon two triangles being com-
pared or viewed together, there arises to the mind the idea of
similitude ; or upon twice two and four, the idea of equality ;
so likewise, upon comparing the consciousness of one's self,
or one's own existence in any two moments, there as immedi-
ately arises to the mind the idea of personal identity. And
as the two former comparisons not only give the idea of simili-
tude and eqiialitj'-, but. also shows us, that, two triangles are
like, and twice two and four are equal ; so the latter compa-
rison not only gives us the idea of personal identity, but also
shows us the identity of ourselves in those two moments ;
the present, suppose, and that immediately past ; or the
present, and that, a month, a year, or twenty years past. Or,
in other words, by reflecting upon that which is myself now,
V1S3. I.] OF PERSONAL IDENTITY. 335
and that which was myself twenty years ago, I discern they
are not two, but one and the same self.
But though consciousness of what is past does thus ascer-
tain our personal identity to ourselves, yet, to say that it
makes personal identity, or is necessary to our being the
same persons, is to say, that a person has not existed a single
moment, nor done one action, but what he can rememltr;
indeed none but what he reflects upon. And one shoulr
really think it self-evident, that consciousness of personal
identity presupposes, and therefore cannot constitute, per-
sonal identity, any more than knowledge, in any other case,
can constitute truth, which it presupposes.
This wonderful mistake may possibly have arisen from
hence, that to be endued with consciousness, is inseparable
from the idea of a person, or intelligent being. For, this
might, be expressed inaccurately thus, that consciousness
makes personality ; and from hence it might be concluded to
make personal identity. But though present consciousness
of what we at present do and feel, is necessary to our being
the persons we now are ; yet present consciousness of past
actions, or feelings, is not necessary to our being the same
persons who performed those actions, or had those feelings.
The inquiry, what makes vegetables the same in the com-
mon acceptation of the word, does not appear to have any re
lation to this of personal identity ; because the word same,
when applied to them and to persons, is not only applied to
different subjects, but it is also used in different senses. For
when a man swears to the same tree, as having stood fifty
years in the same place, he n.eans only the same as to all the
purposes of property and uses of common life, and not that
the tree has been all that time the same in the strict philoso-
phical sense of the word. For he does not know whethei
any one particle of the present tree be the same with any one
particle of the tree which stood in the same place fifty years
ago. And if they have not one common particle of matter,
hey cannot be the same tree, in the proper philosophic sense
of the word same ; it being evidently a contradiction in terms,
to say they are, when no part of their substance, and no one
of their properties, is the same ; no part of their substance, by
the supposition ; no one of their properties, because it is al-
lowed that the same property cannot be transferred from one
substance to another. And therefore, when we say the i-len-
tity or sameness of a plant consists in a continuation of the
same life communicated under the same organization, to a
336 OF PERSONAL IDENTITY. [DISS. 1.
number of particles of matter, whether the same or not, the
word same, when applied to life and to organization, cannot pos-
sibly be understood to signify, what it signifies in this very sen-
tencej when applied to matter. In a loose and popular sense,
then, the life, and the organization, and the plant, are justly
said to be the same, notwithstanding the perpetual change of
.he parts. But in a strict and philosophical manner of speech,
no man, no being, no mode of being, nor any thing, can be
the same with that, with which it hath indeed nothing the
same. Now, sameness is used in this latter sense when ap-
plied to persons. The identity of these, therefore, cannot sub-
sist with diversity of substance.
The thing here considered, and demonstratively, as I think,
determined, is proposed by Mr. Locke in these words, Whether
it, i. e. the same self or person, be the same identical sub-
stance ? And he has suggested what is a much better an-
swer to the question than that which he gives it in form.
For he defines person, a thinking intelligent being, &c. and
personal identity the sameness of a rational being * The
question then is, whether the same rational being is the same
substance ; which needs no answer, because being and sub-
stance, in this place, stand for the same idea. The ground
of the doubt, whether the same person be the same substance
is said to be this ; that the consciousness of our own existence
in youth and in old age, or in any two joint successive mo-
ments, is not the same individual action,^ i. e. not the same
consciousness, but different successive consciousnesses. Now
it is strange that this should have occasioned such perplexi-
ties. For it is surely conceivable, that a person may have
a capacity of knowing some object or other to be the same
now, which it was when he contemplated it formerly ; yet,
in this case, where, by the supposition, the object is perceived
to be the same, the perception of it in any two moments can-
not be one and the same perception. And thus, though the
successive consciousnesses which we have of our own exist-
ence are not the same, yet are they consciousnesses of one
anJ the same thing or object ; of the same person, self, or
living agent. The person, of whose existence the conscious-
ness is felt now, and was felt an hour or a year ago, is dis-
cerned to be, not two persons, but one and the same person ;
and therefore is one and the same.
Mr. Locke's observations upon this subject appear hasty ;
* Locke's Works, vol. L p. 146. t Locke, p. 146, 147.
D1SS. I.] OP PERSONAL IDENTITY. 337
and he seems to profess himself dissatisfied with suppositions,
which he has made relating to it.* But some of those hasty
observations have been carried to a strange length by others ;
whose notion, when iraced and examined to the bottom,
amounts, I think, to tm's :f ' That personality is not a perma
nent, but a transient thing : that it lives and dies, begins an 1
ends, continually : that no one can any more remain one anr.1
the same person two moments together, than two successive
moments can be one and the same moment : that our sub-
stance is indeed continually changing ; but whether this be
so or not, is, it seems, nothing to the purpose ; since it is not
substance, but consciousness alone, which constitutes person-
ality ; which consciousness, being successive, cannot be the
same in any two moments, nor consequently the personality
constituted by it.' And from hence it must follow, that it is
a fallacy upon ourselves, to charge our present selves with
any thing we did, or to imagine our present selves interested
in any thing which befell us yesterday, or that our present
self will be interested in what will befall us to-morrow ; since
our present self is not, in reality, the same with the self of
yesterday, but another like self or person coming in its room,
and mistaken for it ; to which another self will succeed to-
morrow. This, I say, must follow : for if the self or person
of to-day, and that of to-morrow, are not the same, but only
Lke persons, the person of to-day is really no more interested
in what will befall the person of to-morrow, than in what will
befall any other person. It may be thought, perhaps, that
this is not a just representation of the opinion we are speaking
of; because those who maintain it allow, that a person is the
same as far back as his remembrance reaches. And, indeed,
they do use the words, identity and same person. Nor will
language permit these words to be laid aside : since if they
were, there must be, I know not what, ridiculous periphrasis
substituted in the room of them. But they cannot, consist-
ently with themselves, mean, that the person is really the
same. For it is self-evident, that the personality cannot be
really the same, if, as they expi ^ssly assert, that in which it
consists is not the same. And as, consistently with them-
selves, they cannot, so, I think, it appears they do not, mean,
that the person is really the same, but only that he is so in a
fictitious sense : in such a sense only as they assert ; for this
* Locke, p. 1 52.
t See an answer to Dr. Clarke's third defence of his letter to MR
Dodwell, 2d edit. p. 44, 56, &c.
29
338 OF PERSONAL IDENTITY. [DISS. I
they do assert, that any number of persons whatever rrmy be
the same person. The bare unfolding this notion, and laj'ing
it thus naked and open, seems the best confutation of it.
However, since great stress is said to be put upon it, I add
the following things :
First, This notion is absolutely contradictory to that cer-
tain conviction, which necessarily, and every moment, rises
within us, when we turn our thoughts upon ourselves ; when
we reflect upon what is past, and look forward upon what is
to come. All imagination of a daily change of that living
agent which each man calls himself, for another, or of any
such change throughout our whole present life, is entirely
borne down by our natural sense of things. Nor is it possible
for a person in his wits to alter his conduct, with regard to
his health or affairs, from a suspicion, that though he should
live to-morrow, he should not, however, be the same person
he is to-dajr. And yet, if it be reasonable to act, with respect
to a future life, upon this notion, that personality is transient ;
it is reasonable to act upon it, with respect to the present.
Here then is a notion equally applicable to religion and to
our temporal concerns ; and every one sees and feels the in-
expressible absurdity of it in the latter case. If, therefore,
any can take up with it in the former, this cannot proceed
from the reason of the thing, but must be owing to an inward
unfairness, and secret corruption of heart.
Secondly, It is not an idea, or abstract notion, or quality,
but a being only which is capable of life and action, of happi-
ness and misery. Now all beings confessedly continue the
same, during the whole time of their existence. Consider
then a living being now existing, and which has existed for
any time alive : this living being 'prst have done and suf-
fered and enjoyed, what it has done anJ suffered and enjoyed
foroijrly, (this living being, I say, and not another,) as really
as it does and suffers and enjoys, what it does and suffers and
enjoys this instant. All these successive actions, enjoyments,
and sufferings, are actions, enjoyments, and sufferings, of the
same living being. And they are so, prior to all considera-
tion of its remembering or forgetting ; since remembering or
forgetting can "make no alteration in the truth of past matter
of fact. And suppose this being endued with limited poweis
of knowledge and memory, there is no more difficulty in con-,
ceiving it to have a power of knowing itself to be the same
living being which it was some time ago, of remembering
some of its actions, sufferings, and enjoyments, and forgetting
D1SS. I.] OF PERSONAL IDENTITY.
others, than in conceiving it to know, or remember, or forget
any thing else.
Thirdly, Every person is conscious, that he is now the
same person or self he was, as far back as his remembrance
reaches ; since, when any one reflects upon a past action of
nis own, he is just as certain of the person who did that action,
namely himself, the person who now reflects upon it, as he is
certain that the action was at all done. Nay, very often a per-
son's assurance of an action having been done, of which he is
absolutely assured, arises wholly from the consciousness that
he himself did it. And this he, person, or self, must either be a
substance, or the property of some substance. If he, if person,
be a substance ; then consciousness that he is the same per-
son, is consciousness that he is the same substance. If the
person, or he, be the propertjr of a substance ; still conscious-
ness that he is the same property, is as certain a proof that
his substance remains the same, as consciousness that he re
mains the same substance would be ; since the same property
cannot be transferred from one substance to another.
But though we are thus certain that we are the same
agents, living beings, or substances, now, which we were as
far back as our remembrance reaches ; yet it is asked, whether
we may not possibly be deceived in it ? And this question
may be asked at the end of any demonstration whatever ; be-
cause it is a question concerning the truth of perception by
memory. And he who can doubt, whether perception by
memory can in this case be depended upon, may doubt also,
whether perception by deduction and reasoning, which also
include memory, or, indeed, whether intuitive perception can.
Here then we can go no farther. For it is ridiculous to at-
tempt to prove the truth of those perceptions, whose truth we
can no otherwise prove, than by other perceptions of exactly
the same kind with them, and which there is just the same
ground to suspect ; or to attempt to prove the truth of our fa-
culties, which can no otherwise be proved, than by the use or
means of those very suspected faculties themselves.
340 Of THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. [PISS. II,
DISSERTATION II.
OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE.
THAT which renders beings capable of moral government,
is their having a moral nature, and moral faculties of percep-
tion and of action. Brute creatures, are impressed and actu-
ated by various instincts and propensions : so also are we.
But, additional to this, we have a capacity of reflecting upon
actions and characters, and making them an object to our
thoughts ; and on doing this, we naturally and unavoidably
approve some actions, under the peculiar view of their being
virtuous and of good desert ; and disapprove others, as vicious
and of ill desert. That we have this moral approving and
disapproving* faculty, is certain from our experiencing it in
ourselves, and recognising it in each other. It appears from
our exercising it unavoidably, in the approbation and disap-
probation even of feigned characters : from the words, right
and wrong, odious and amiable, base and worthy, with man}
others of like signification in all languages, applied to actions
and characters : from the many written systems of morals
which suppose it ; since it cannot be imagined, that all these
authors, throughout all these treatises, had absolutely no
meaning at all to their words, or a meaning merely chimeri-
* This way of speaking is taken from Epictetus,f and is made use of
as seeming the most full, and least liable to cavil. And the moral fa-
culty may be understood to have these two epithets, SOKIHOOTIKII and
airoioKifiaffTucrj, upon a double account ; because, upon a survey of ac-
tions, whether before or after they are done, it determines them to be
good or evil; and also because it determines itself to be the guide of ac-
tion and of life, in contradistinction from all other faculties, or natural prin-
ciples of action : in the very same manner, as speculative reason directly
and naturally judges of speculative truth and falsehood ; and, at the
same time, is attended with a consciousness upon reflection, that th
natural right to judge of them belongs to it.
t Arr. Epict. lib. i. cap. 1.
D1SS. II.] OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. 341
cal : from our natural sense of gratitude, which implies a dis-
tinction between merely being the instrument of good, and
intending it : from the like distinction, every one makes, be-
tween injury and mere harm, which Hobbes says, is peculiar
to mankind ; and between injury and just punishment, a dis-
tinction plainly natural, prior to the consideration of human
laws. It is manifest, great part of common language, and of
common behaviour over the world, is formed upon supposition
of such a moral faculty ; whether called conscience, moral
reason, moral sense, or divine reason ; whether considered as
a sentiment of the understanding, or as a perception of the
heart, or, which seems the truth, as including both. JXor is
it at all doubtful in the general, what course of action this
faculty, or practical discerning power within us, approves,
and what it disapproves. For, as much as it has been dis-
puted wherein virtue consists, or whatever ground for doubt
there may be about particulars, yet, in general, there is ir
reality a universally acknowledged standard of it. It is that,
which all ages and all countries have made profession of in
public ; it is that, which every man you meet, puts on the
show of; it is that, which the primary and fundamental laws
of all civil constitutions, over the face of the earth, make it
their business and endeavour to enforce the practice of upon
mankind ; namely, justice, veracity, and regard to common
good. It being manifest then, in general, that we have such
a faculty or discernment as this, it may be of use to remark
some things, more distinctly concerning it.
First, It ought to be observed, that the object of this fa
culty is actions,* comprehending under that name, active or
practical principles ; those principles pm which men would
act, if occasions and circumstances gave them power ; and
which, when fixed and habitual in any person, we call, his
character. It does not appear, that brutes have the least
reflex sense of actions, as distinguished from events ; or that
will and design, which constitute the very nature of actions
as such, are at all an object to their perception. But to ours
they are ; and they are the object, and the only one, of the
approving and disapproving faculty. Acting, conduct, be-
haviour, abstracted from ail regard to what is, in fact anJ
event, the consequence of it, is itself the natural object of the
moral discernment, as speculative truth and falsehood is of
* ov$c i$ apijrr; xat Kaxta cv nticrti, aAXn evtpycta. M. Anton. 1. 9. I6>
Virtutis laus omnis in actione con?istit. Cic. Off, 1. 1. c. 6,
29*
342 OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. DISS. II.
speculative reason. Intention of such and such consequences,
indeed, is always included ; for it is part of the action itself
but though the intended good or bad consequences do noi
follow, we have exactly the same sense of the ar'ion as if
they did. In like manner, we think well or ill of characters,
abstracted from all consideration of the good or the evil, which
persons of such characters have it actually in their power to
Mo. We never, in the moral way, applaud or blame either
ourselves or others, for what we enjoy or what we suffer, or
for having impressions made upon us which we consider as
altogether out of our power ; but only for what we do, or
would have done, had it been in our power ; or for what we
leave undone which we might have done, or would have left
undone though we could have done it.
Secondly, Our sense or discernment of actions, as morally
good or evil, implies in it a sense or discernment of them as of
good or ill desert. It may be difficult to explain this percep-
tion, so as to answer all the questions which may be asked
concerning it ; but every one speaks of such and such actions
as deserving punishment ; and it is not, I suppose, pretended, '
that they have absolutely no meaning at all to the expres-
sion. Now, the meaning plainly is, not that we conceive it
for the good of society, that the doer of such actions, should
be made to suffer. For if unhappily it were resolved, that a
man who, by some innocent action was infected with the
plague, should be left to perish, lest, by other people coming
near him, the infection should spread ; no one would say, he
deserved this treatment. Innocence and ill desert are incon-
sistent ideas. Ill desert always supposes guilt ; and if one
be not part of the other, yet they are evidently and naturally
connected in our mind. The sight of a man in misery raises
our compassion towards him ; and, if this misery be inflicted
on him by another, our indignation against the author of it.
But when we are informed, that the sufferer is a villain, and
is punished only for his treachery or cruelty ; our compassion
exceedingly lessens, and, in many instances, our indignation
wholly subsides. Now, what produces this effect, is the con-
ception of that in the sufferer, which we call ill desert. Upon
considering then, or viewing together, our notion of vice ?nd
that of misery, there results a third, that of ill desert. And
thus there is in human creatures an association of the two
ideas, natural and moral evil, wickedness and punishment,
If this association were merely artificial or accidental, it were
nothing ; but being most unquestionably natural, it greatly
OIS3. II.] OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. 343
concerns us :o attend to it, irutead of endeavoring to explain
it away.
I', may be observed farther, concerning our "perception of
good and of ill desert, that the former is very weak with
respect to common instances of viriue. One reason of which
may be, that it does not appear to a spectator, bow far su^n
instances of virtue proceed from a virtuous principle, or in
what degree this principle is prevalent ; since a very wen*
regard to virtue may be sufficient to make men act well in
many common instances. And on the other hand, our per-
ception of ill desert in vicious actions lessens, in proportion to
the temptations men are thought to have had to such vices.
For, vice in human creatures consisting chiefly in the absence
or want of the virtuous principle, though a man be overcome,
suppose, by tortures, it does not from thence appear, to wh,,t
degree the virtuous principle was wanting. All that appears,
is that lie had it not in such a degree, as to prevail over the
temptation ; but possibly he had it in a degree, which would
nave rendered him proof against common temptations.
Tkirdly, Our perception of vice and ill deserts arises from,
and is the result of, a comparison of actions with the nature
and capacities of the agent. For, the mere neglect of doing
what we ought to do, would, in many cases, be determined by
all men to be in the highest degree vicious. And this deter-
mination must, arise from such comparison, and be the result
of it ; because such neglect would not be vicious in creatures
of other natures and capacities, as brutes. And it is the same t
also with respect to positive vices, or such as consist in doing
what we ought not. For, every one has a different sense of
harm done by an idiot, madman, or child, and by one of mature
and common understanding ; though the action of both,
including the intention, which is part of the action, be the
same : as it may be, since idiots and madmen, as well as
children, are capable, not only of doing mischief, but also of
intending it. Now, this difference must arise from somewhat
discerned in the nature or capacities of one, which renders the
action vicious ; and the want of which in the other, renders
the same action innocent, or less vicious : and this plainly
supposes a comparison, whether reflected upon or not, between
the action and capacities of the agent, previous to our deter-
mining an action to be vicious. And hence arises a proper
application of the epithets, incongruous, unsuitable, dispro-
portionate, unfit, to actions which our moral faculty determines
to be vicious.
344 OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. [D1SS. II.
Fourthly, It deserves to be considered, whether men are
more at liberty, in point of morals, to make themselves misera-
ble without reason, than to make other people so ; or disso-
lutely to neglect their own greater good, for the sake of a
present lesser gratification, than they are to neglect the good
of others, whom nature has committed to their care. It
should seem, that a due concern about our own interest or
happiness, and a reasonable endeavor to secure and promote
i f , which is, I think, very much the meaning of the word
prudence in our language ; it should seem, that this is virtue,
and the contrary behaviour faulty and blameable : since, in
the calmest way of reflection, we approve of the first, and
condemn the other conduct, both in ourselves and others.
This approbation and disapprobation are altogether different
from mere desire of our own, or of their happiness, and from
sorrow upon missing it. For the object or occasion of this
last kind of perception, is satisfaction or uneasiness ; whereas
the object of the first is active behaviour. In one case, what
our thoughts fix upon is our condition ; in the other, our con-
duct. It is true, Indeed, that nature has not given us so sen-
sible a disapprobation of imprudence and folly, either in our-
selves or others, as of falsehood, injustice, and cruelty ; I
suppose, because that constant habitual sense of private inte-
rest, and good, which we always carry about with us, renders
such sensible disapprobation less necessary, less wanting, to
keep us from imprudently neglecting our own happiness, and
foolishly injuring ourselves, than it is necessary and wanting
to keep us from injuring others, to whose good we cannot have-
so strong and constant a regard ; and also, because impru-
dence and folly, appearing to bring its own punishment, more
immediately and constantly than injurious 'behaviour, it less
needs the additional punishment which would be inflicted upon
it by others, had they the same sensible indignation against it.
as against injustice, and fraud, and cruelty. Besides, unhap-
piness being in itself the natural object of compassion, the
unhappiness which people bring upon themselves, though it
be wilfully, excites in us some pity for them ; and this, of
course, lessens our displeasure against them. But still it is
matter of experience, that we are formed so as to reflect very
severely upon the greater instances of imprudent neglect and
foolish rashness, both in ourselves and others. In instances
of this kind, men often say of themselves with remorse, and
of others with some indignation, that they deserve to suffer
s\ich calamities, because they brought them upon themselves
DI8S. II.] OP THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. 345
and would not take warning. Particularly when persons
come to poverty and distress by a long course of extrava-
gance, and after frequent admonitions, though without false-
hood or injustice ; we plainly do not regard such people as
like objects of compassion, with those who are brought into
the same condition by unavoidable accidents. From these
things it appears, that prudence is a species of virtue, and
folly of vice : meaning by folly, somewhat quite different from
mere incapacity ; a thoughtless want of that regard and
attention to our own happiness, which we had capacity for.
And this the word properly includes, and, as it seems, in its
usual acceptation ; for we scarce apply it to brute creatures.
However, if any person be disposed to dispute the matter,
I shall very willingly give him up the words virtue and vice,
as not applicable to prudence and folly ; but must beg leave
to insist, that the faculty within us, which is the judge of ac-
tions, approves of prudent actions and disapproves imprudent
ones ; I say, prudent and imprudent actions as such, and con-
sidered distinctly from the happiness or misery which they
occasion. And by the way, this observation may help to
determine, what justness there is in that objection against re-
ligion, that it teaches us to be interested and selfish.
Fifthly, Without inquiring how far, and in what sense,
virtue is resolvable into benevolence, and vice into the want
of it ; it may be proper to observe, that benevolence, and the
want of it, singly considered, are in no sort the whole of virtue
ani' vice. F^/i if this were the case, in the review of one's
own character, or that of others, our moral understanding
and moral sense would be indifferent to every thing, but the
degrees in which benevolence prevailed, and the degrees in
which it was wanting. That is, we should never approve of
benevolence to some persons rather than to others, nor disap-
prove injustice and falsehood upon any other account, than
merely as an overbalance of happiness was foreseen likely to
be produced by the first, and of misery by the second. But
now, on the contrary, suppose two men competitors for any
thing whatever, which would be of equal advantage to each
of them ; though nothing indeed would be more impertinent,
than for a siranger to busy himself to get one of them prefer-
red to the other ; yet such endeavor would be virtve, in behalf
of a friend or benefactor, abstracted from all consideration of
distant consequences : as that example of gratitude, a.nd the
cultivation of friendship, would be of general good to the
world. Again, suppose one man should, by fraud or ; iolence,
846 OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. [DISS. II
take from another the fruit of his labor with intent to give it to
a third, who, he thought, would have as much pleasure from
it as would balance the pleasure which the first possessor
would have had in the enjoyment, and his vexation in the loss
of it : suppose also, that no bad consequences would follow ;
yet such an action would surely be vicious. Nay, farther,
were treachery, violence, and injustice, no otherwise vicious,
than as foreseen likely to produce an overbalance of misery to
society ; then, if in any case a man could procure to himself
as great advantage by an act of injustice, as the whole fore-
seen inconvenience, likely to be brought upon others by it,
would amount to, such a piece of injustice would not be faulty
or vicious at all ; because it would be no more than, in any
other case, for a man to prefer his own satisfaction to another's
in equal degrees. The fact then appears to be, that we are
constituted so as to condemn falsehood, unprovoked violence,
injustice, and to approve of benevolence to some preferably to
others, abstracted from all consideration which conduct is
likeliest to produce an overbalance of happiness or misery.
And therefore, were the author of nature to propose nothing
to himself as an end but the production of happiness, were
his moral character merely that of benevolence ; yet ours is
not so. Upon that supposition, indeed, the only reason of his
giving us the above-mentioned approbation of benevolence to
some persons rather than to others, and disapprobation of
falsehood, unprovoked violence, and injustice, must be. that he
foresaw this constitution of our nature would produce r^ore
happiness, than forming us with a temper of mere general
benevolence. But still, since this is our constitution, false-
hood, violence, injustice, must be vice in us, and benevolence
to some preferably to others, virtue, abstracted from all consi-
deration of the overbalance of evil or good which they may
appear likely to produce.
Now, if human creatures are endued with such a moral
nature as we have been explaining, or with a moral faculty,
the natural object of which is actions ; moral government
must consist hi rendering them happy and unhappy, in
rewarding and punishing them, as they follow, neglect, or
depart from, the moral rule of action interwoven in their
nature, or suggested and enforced by this moral faculty ;* in
rewarding and punishing them upon account of their so doing.
I am not sensible that I have, in this fifth observation, con-
tradicted what any author designed to assert. But some of
* Part ti. Chap. 6. p. 165.
OISS. II.] OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. 347
great and distinguished merit have, I think, expressed them-
selves in a manner, which may occasion some danger to care-
less readers, of imagining the whole of virtue to consist in
singly aiming, according to the best of their judgment, at
promoting the happiness of mankind in the present state ;
and the whole of vice, in doing what they foresee, or might
foresee, is likely to produce an overbalance of unhappiness ir
it ; than which mistakes, none can be conceived more terrible
For it is certain, that some of the most shocking instances of
.injustice, adultery, murder, perjury, and even of persecution,
may, in many supposable cases, not have the appearance of
being likely to produce an overbalance of misery in the pre-
sent state ; perhaps sometimes may have the contrary appear-
ance. For this reflection might easily be carried on ; but I
forbear. The happiness of the world is the concern of
Him, who is the Lord and the proprietor of it ; nor do we
know what we are about, when we endeavor to promote the
good of mankind in any ways but those which he has direct-
ed ; that is, indeed, in all ways not contrary to veracity and
justice. I speak thus upon supposition of persons really
endeavoring, in some sort, to do good without regard to these.
But the truth seems to be, that such supposed endeavors pro-
ceed, almost always, from ambition, the spirit of party, or
some indirect principle, concealed perhaps in great measure
from persons themselves. And though it is our business and
our duly to endeavor, within the bounds of veracity and jus-
tice, to contribute to the ease, convenience, and even cheerful-
ness and diversion of our fellow-creatures ; yet, from our short
views, it is greatly uncertain whet] er this endeavor will, in
particular instances, produce an overbalance of happiness
upon the whole ; since so many and distant things must come
into the account. And that which makes it our duty, is, that
there is some appearance that it will, and no positive appear-
ance sufficient to balance this, on the contrary side ; and also,
that such benevolent endeavor is a cultivation of that most
excellent of all virtuous principles, the active principle of be-
nevolence.
However, though veracity, as well as justice, is to be our
rule of life, it must be added, otherwise a snare will be laid in
4 he way of some plain men, that the use of common forms of
speech generally understood, cannot be falsehood ; and, in
general, that there can be no designed falsehood without de-
signing to deceive. It must likewise be observed, that, in
numberless cases, a man may be under the strictest obligations
348 OP THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. FoiSS. II
to what he foresees will deceive, without his intending- it. For
it is impossible not to foresee, that the words and actions of
men in different ranks and employments, and of different edu-
cations, will perpetually be mistaken by each o'.her; and it
cannot but be so, whilst they will judge with the utmost care-
essness, as they daily do, of what thay are not, perhaps,
?nough informed to be competent judges of, even though they
considered it with great attention.
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