%i 
 
5 W. M. FAHN>«TOCK. | 
 
 I The horrorjtr icill (Aease to retxtan. | 
 
 " *»^^l»^ 4^ ^l. ^M l M .l»l' M (*^i | «*^M* » ^' * '^ **w *^ "«• ' ^ ** 
 
 5:^^5:3 5:^^ i:^ <£^ o^ ^2- 
 
 <lf THK. 
 IT 
 
 PRINCETON, N. .J. 
 
 SAMUEL A G N E ^V , 
 
 O r 1" II I I. A 1> F. L P 11 1 A . PA. 
 
 
 y7vf7A/c^ ydi^'/§5<S: 
 
% 
 
 is . 
 
THE DOCTRINES 
 HEATHEN PHILOSOPHY 
 
 COMPARED WITH THOSE 
 
 of 
 REVELATION. 
 
THE DOCTRINES 
 
 of 
 
 HEATHEN PHILOSOPHY, 
 
 compared 
 WITH THOSE OF 
 
 REVELATION 
 
 BY JOSEPH PRIESTLEY, l. l. d. f. r. s. 
 
 PRINTED BY JOHN BINNS. 
 
 1804. 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 TO THE 
 
 REVEREND JOSEPH BERINGTON, 
 
 a Catholic Priest In England^ 
 
 AND TO THE 
 
 RIGHT REVEREND WILLIAM WHITE, 
 
 a Bishop of the Episcopalian Church in the 
 United States. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 Y^ 
 
 OU will, I doubt not, be surprized at my de- 
 dication of any work of mine to you, differing so 
 much as we do in our sentiments concerning chris- 
 tianit}-. But, entertaining the highest respect for 
 your characters, as men and as christians, I do it 
 because we differ; to shc.y, with respect to a sub- 
 ject in which we are equally interested, as in that 
 of this work that I regard all that bear the christi- 
 an name, how widely distant soever their different 
 
 a ii. churches 
 
a DEDICATION. 
 
 churches and creeds ma}- be, as friends and breth- 
 ren, and therefore entitled, by the express directi- 
 on of our common SaAiour, lo piu'ticalai- respect 
 and attention as such. 
 
 Though few persons have written more than 
 ni} self to controvert the established principles of 
 each of }^our churches, I consider the articles in 
 which wc all atjree as of infinitely more moment 
 than those with respect to \\ hich we differ. We 
 all believe in the being, the perfections, the uni- 
 versal providence, and the righteous mor 1 govern- 
 ment of God, as the maker and sovereign disposer 
 of all things. \Vhatever we may think of the per- 
 son of Christ, we all believe tliat his doctrine is 
 divine, and his precepts obligatory upon all. We 
 all believe in his miracles, his death, his resurrecti- 
 on, andhis ascension, as related in the books of the 
 New Testament. We also all belie\e that he will 
 come again, to raise all the dead, to judge the world, 
 and to give to every man according to his works ; 
 and these are all the articles of faith that can have any 
 considerable influence on the lives and conduct of 
 men. Belie^^ng this, our gratitude for the com- 
 munication of knowledge of such infinite impor- 
 tance must be common to us all. ^"d such as^hould 
 
 'ead 
 
DEDICATION. iii 
 
 lead to a chearful obedience to all the commands 
 of God. 
 
 I know that the creeds of both your established 
 churches doom me, and all that are out of their 
 pale, as discarding some particular articles of your 
 faith, to perish everlastingly, notwidistanding every 
 thing that we may believe, or do. But I know 
 that the candid and liberal of all persuasions arc 
 provided with some salvo for the conscientious 
 heretic. But whatever may be your opinion with 
 respect to me, which I knovv^ \\\\[ be as favourable 
 as you can make it, I have no doubt but, if I ever 
 do get to heaven, I shall meet with both of 30U 
 there. In that state our minds will be so much 
 enlightened, that the bigotry Avhich has contribut- 
 ed so much to the miseries of this life, but which 
 has, at the same time, licen a valuable exercise 
 of christian candour, will no longer exist. With 
 respect to myself, the time in which ^y^ry thinp* of 
 this kind will be cleared up, and no doubt to uni- 
 versal satisfaction, cannot be very distant ; and the 
 difference between my opiriion, that it will be af- 
 ter an interval of rest in the grave, and yours th.it 
 it v/ill take place with respect to each individual 
 immediately after his death, cannot be thought of 
 much moment, by those wa;) believe they shall 
 
 live for ever after it. 
 
 a iii. With 
 
iv E>'X)ICATIOX. 
 
 AMtli the highest esteem for your pcrsonul cha- 
 racters, though you arc probably unkno\\n tr» 
 each otlier. 
 
 I am Gentlemen, 
 
 Your brother in the faith, 
 and hope of the Gospel. 
 
 J. PRIESTLEY. 
 Northu mberland 1 804. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 WHEN I wrote the Pamphlet entitled Socrates 
 and Jesus Compared^ which I was led to do fi-om 
 the perusal of Xeiiophon's Memorabilia, in order 
 to form a more distinct idea than I then rctamed of 
 the subjects and the manner of the teaching of So- 
 crates, and from seeing his character in a diiTercnt 
 light from that in which it had bee« usually re- 
 presented, I had no thoughts of doing any cbing 
 more in the same way. But my friends in gene- 
 ral approving of the pamphlet, and seeing in the 
 same light with myself the great superiority v» hich 
 it exhibited of the character and teaching of Jesus 
 to that of this most moral, and most celebrated, of 
 all the Grecian philosophers, I was urged to give a 
 similar view of all the Grecian moralists, con:ipar- 
 ing their principles with those of revelation in f^-e- 
 neral. 
 
 At first diis appeared to me too great an under- 
 taking at my age, and with increasing infirmities* 
 But finding that my library, notwithstandiiig the 
 a iv. destruction 
 
vi PREFACE. 
 
 dcbtnictlou ofu tp-cat part of it at the riots in rJir- 
 minghain, \\a.s bO fur restored as to contain almoit 
 every book that I wanted for the puq^ose, hm-ing a 
 predileclion for die Mork, and abniidant leisure in 
 my present retired situation, I reperused tlie \\ rit- 
 ings of all the Grecian moralists that have come 
 to us, making all the extracts that I thought ne- 
 ecissarv, a!id then composed the difiercnt paits of 
 the work \viti\ v/hich I nov/ present the reader ; 
 It uas hoAvcver not done in the order in w hich tJiey 
 are now arranged, but as they appeared to me of 
 the most importance, giving directions to ni}- son, 
 that if I div-^d before the work ^vas compleated, he 
 would publish what I had iinished ; having taken 
 the precan 'ion to transcribe, and prepare for the 
 jjress., each of the separate parts before I under- 
 look anv other. In this manner, with much more 
 case, and I will add, more to my satisfaction, than 
 I expected, I compleated my design. 
 
 My labour w as the shorter, as I had nothing to 
 do with the l(»gic, the metaphysics, or the physics, 
 of the writeis all equally trifling and absurd, but 
 only with such passages in their writings as related 
 to the being, die attributes, and tlie providence of 
 God, their sentiments concerning the human soul, 
 ind especially its destination after dcadi, and tlicir 
 
 geueial 
 
PREFACE. vii 
 
 general principles of morals. For with these sub- 
 jects only codld they be brought into comparison 
 with the doctrines o^ the scriptures. Also, my 
 comparison extended no farther than till Christia- 
 nity became the religion of the Roman Emperors. 
 For after this the tenets of the philosojihers and 
 those of the christians v.ere strangely mixed, so 
 that it might be said they borrowed from eacli o- 
 ther. I have therefore confined myself to the pe- 
 riod in which they were entirely separate. For 
 though after the promulgation of Christianity the 
 heathen philosophers had sufficient opportunity of 
 acquainting themselves with its principles, tlicy 
 appear to have been entirely ignorant of them, or 
 to have given litde attention to them. Tiiis ap- 
 pears to me to have been the case with Marcus 
 Antoninus, and others who lived long enough af- 
 ter the time of Christ. If they had any know- 
 ledge of christian principles, their bias was rather 
 against than in favour of them. 
 
 There are several subdivisions of the Grecian 
 philosophers which I have not noticed, but they 
 were such as made only some small variation in 
 some of the general systems of which I have gi^-en 
 a particular account. I'he most considerable of 
 them were Sceptics, and the Academics ; but they 
 a V. advanced 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 advanced nothing new, and only doubted, and dis- 
 puted, in diiTcrentways about thcpositions of others. 
 For a more particular account of all the Grecian 
 philosophers than it was to my purpose to give, I 
 refer the reader to the excellent History of Philo- 
 sophy by Dr. Enfield^ most judiciously compiled 
 from the tla!)orate \\ork of Brucker. As the sen- 
 timents of the Grecian j)hilosophers have been re- 
 presented \'cry differentl}-, by writers m ho had dif- 
 ferent views in charaeterizing them, I thought it 
 nccessar\ to give numerous extracts from their o^\i\ 
 >\'orks ; so that the reader may be confident that I 
 have not made any mistvike of importance in 7ny 
 account of them. 
 
 I once thought of adding another part, on the 
 sentiments of Cicero, forthouglihe was the found- 
 er of no sect, he A\as ^^ell acquainted with the 
 principles of them all, and no doubt made his se- 
 lection of those w hich he most ajiprovcd. But be- 
 sides th?.t dicre is nothing of his oun in any thing 
 he has advanced on the scAcral subjects, it is not 
 easy to ascertain what his real sentiments were. 
 His preference may in general be pretty \\cll dis- 
 tinguished amon;^ the different speakers in his dia- 
 loc:ueb ; l)ut it was too great an object with him to 
 cmbeliisl) ^\ hate\ er he undertool^ to defend ; so 
 
 that 
 
PREFACE ix 
 
 that there is often more of the orator, than of the 
 philosopher, even in his philosophical works. 
 
 I can by no means persuade myself to tliiiik so 
 highly of the religious sentiments of Cicero, and 
 of their having been the real principles of his con- 
 duct, as Dr. Middleton does. He gives him every 
 thing that is most essential in chrislianit}', or what 
 was by himself thought to be so ; and among the 
 rest a belief in the immortality of the soul, aiid its 
 separate existence in a state of happiness or mise- 
 ry after death ; ^\■hereas he expressly says there 
 could hardly be found a foolish old yronian w ho 
 feared what had formerly been believed of the 
 dreadful things in the shades belou\ De Natu- 
 ra deorum. (Lib. ii. cap. 2.) Yet on this subject, 
 among others, Middleton says. ( Life of Cicero 
 Vol. Hi. p lAfd.J " that Cicero has largely and 
 *' clearly declared his mind in many parts, of his 
 " writings." Any person, however, may see in 
 Dr. Middleton's work a large account of what is 
 contained in the writings of Cicero on this subject j 
 and to tliis elaborate, entertaining, and truly valu- 
 able work I refer the reader. 
 
 I have litde doubt, but that the opinion expressed 
 by Caesar, in his speech, as given by Sallust, in 
 
 the 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 the debate concerning the punishment of the Asso- 
 ciates oi Cataline, vas that \vhich was maintained 
 by the senators in general, and all persons of rank 
 and education at Rome ; as it \\as not delivered 
 by Cjcsar as his own in particular, but evidently 
 as V. h.at he apprehended would be that from ^^hich 
 his hearers would not dissent. Cato, ^\ ho spake 
 after him, did not express any disapprobation of 
 whc'it lie had said. Indeed as a stoic, he could not. 
 Cicero himself was present, and did not contra- 
 dict him. " In sorrow and distress," Caesar said, 
 " Death is a state of rest from all trouble, and not 
 *' of torment. It puts an end to all the evils to 
 *' which men ai'e subject, and beyond it there is no 
 " room for care or joy." 
 
 The result of the whole of this work, even to 
 the most superficial observer, must be a sense of 
 the infinite superiority of the doctrines of Revela- 
 tion, and especially of those of Christianity, to those 
 of any heathen system whatever ; and w'tth this 
 great ad\'antage, that the principles of revelation 
 are perfectly intelligible to the bulk of mankind, 
 and die same with those which actually influence 
 men in the common conduct of life ; giving them 
 a knowledge of what they have to hope from the 
 practice of virtue, and what tliey have to feai- in 
 
 couse. 
 
PREFACE. Ki 
 
 consequence of vice. Moreover, these rules of 
 life, coming Immediately from the author of their 
 being, have a great advantage in point of v/eight, 
 and authority, far more than any inere reasoning, 
 though ever so clear and satisfactory, could have 
 given them. 
 
 Accordingly, the precepts of IMoses were not, 
 like the teachings of the Greek philosophers, con- 
 fined to a fe^v, but calculated for the use of the 
 whole nation, the lowest as much as the highest 
 among them. The doctrines and precepts of 
 Christianity are also equally intelligible to all man- 
 kind ; and they are represented as of equal impor- 
 tance and concern to all, the slave as much as his 
 master. Such a plan of general instruction was ne- 
 ver practiced, nor, as far as appears, did the verv 
 ideaof it ever occur to any of the Greek moralists. 
 The lectures of the philosophers were given to se- 
 lect disciples, who generally paid for their instruc- 
 tion. With the common people they had nothing 
 to do, while at the same time they encouraged 
 them in their absurd and abominable religious 
 rites, founded on that polytheism and idolatry 
 which they themselves held in contempt ; and this 
 was founded on as groundless an opinion as any 
 that was ever entertained by the lowest of the pco- 
 
 ple» 
 
xH PREFACE* 
 
 p!e» VIZ. that thcMeHlirc of the state depended up- 
 on the observance of them. 
 
 The ottenlion I have given to tliis sul)ject has 
 increased t'ne sense I had before of the great \ alue 
 of rtvelaiion to the virtue and happiness of man- 
 kiiid, a::d my gratitude to die universal parent, 
 that I was bom in a chiustian country, and in an 
 age so njuch enlightened as the present. I re- 
 joice also that 1 have been led, in the course of 
 liis providence, to do so much as I have done to- 
 wards illustrating and defending the evidences of 
 revelation, and towards purging it from those doc- 
 trines and practices w hich were discordant v\ ith it, 
 and prevented its reception Mith man}', I am 
 willing to think thiat my comparison of the instituti- 
 ons of the Hindoos^ and other antient nations^ with 
 t/iose oj Moses, and this work, which extends the 
 comparison to all the sects of the Grecian philoso- 
 phers, \\ ill eminently contribute to this end. Last- 
 1}', I am thankful to die author of my being that 
 my life lias been prolonged so far as to have been 
 able to compleat my design. I could not ha\e 
 closed my life widi more satisfaction than after a 
 work of this kind. May tlie great Lord of the har- 
 vest send more, more zealous, and more able, la- 
 bourers into his harvest.. 
 
THE 
 
 Principles of the Grecian 
 
 PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 [part I.] 
 
 ON 
 
 The state of religious and moral prin- 
 ciPLEs IN Greece before the 
 TIME OF Pythagoras. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 XN comparing the moral maxims of the heathcji 
 world with those of revelation, a\ Inch Is the object 
 of this work, it is desirable to go as far back as we 
 can, with any sufficient evidence, ofwhat men real- 
 ly thought and did ; and though with respect to 
 Greece we cannot go so far back as we can with re- 
 spect to Hindostan, and other oriental nations, '^ve 
 have two early WTiters on whom we may depend, 
 viz. the poets Hesiod and Homer; and they 
 flourished, according to Ne\vton, about eight hun- 
 dred years before the christian aera : 
 
 A, We 
 
y. THE PRINCIPLES 0# 
 
 We have also a poem of considerable length, 
 contaiiiing precepts for the conduct of life, by 
 Th E G N I s , which does not appear to ha\e suffered 
 by interpolation ; and he flourished more than four 
 liundred years before Christ ; and also a shorter po- 
 em of Phocylides of the same age, thought by 
 some to contain christian sentiments, and therefore 
 to have been interpolated ; we have also a collecti- 
 on ofsayings of those who are generally called Md* 
 se^eti wise men of Greece, who lived about six hun- 
 dred years before Christ, presen'cd by Diogenes 
 Lacrtiu s. Thou gh all these are not of equal autho- 
 rity, I shall quote nothing from any of them but 
 what will appear, by a comparison with others the 
 antiquity of which is unquestionable, to be suffici- 
 ently to my purpose. 
 
 It is something remarkable that, near as Greece 
 is to Palestine and Egypt, not only all science, pro- 
 perly so called, but a knowledge of the common 
 and most useful arts, seems to have been unknown 
 for ages in that couiUry, "till they were brought to 
 tliem by the Phenicians or Egyptiiuis, who came a- 
 mong them to find settlements, after flying from 
 their q>\w\ countries, and who found them in a state 
 of the greatest barbaiism, and divided into a great 
 
 number 
 
THE GRECIAM PHILOSOPHY. 3 
 
 number of clans ; for nations or states they did not 
 deserve to be called ; and in a state of hostility \\ ith 
 each other, as mankind in a similar situation are al- 
 ways found to be. 
 
 These wandering tribes of Greece, shvillar to 
 those in North America at present (for they were a 
 lojig time in no better, but rather in a ^\orsc state 
 with respect to ciAilization,) m.ust no doubt, have 
 had some notions of religion ; since no pco]}Ie in die 
 world have been intirely without them ; Init wliat 
 they were in that rude state of the country it is im- 
 possible to trace. The sacred rites aiid modes of 
 worship that we find accounts of in their \\ riters 
 were acknowledged to have been borrowed from 
 Egypt, and odier countries. And even this ^vas in 
 so early a period, before they had any writers, that 
 the observance of them had been from time imme- 
 morial ; so that the veneration they had acquired 
 from their antiquity was not to be shaken. 
 
 Whatever they were, and they were dlfFcrcnt in 
 every part of the countr}?-, and more or less in every 
 different town and hamlet, they w^re supposed to ^ 
 be connected with the well-being of the place ; so 
 that it would have been thought hazardous to make 
 any change in them. Nor do v.e find that this was 
 A 2. ever 
 
4 THE PRINCIPLES OF 
 
 ever done in any heathen countr}^ They might a- 
 dopt new gods, and new modes of ^^ orship, but 
 they never abandoned their own antient ones. 
 
 This partial eiviUzation of Greece must have 
 been a considerable time after the ^eatest part of 
 the kno^vledge derived from revelation had been 
 lost in the East, as will be evident to any person 
 who compares what he finds on this subject in the 
 earliest of the Greek wTiters with the book of Job, 
 to say nothing of the writings of Moses. Job and 
 his friends, though probably not themselves favour- 
 ed w ith any revelation, appear to have had a clear 
 knowledge of the being, and the righteous govern- 
 ment of the one true God, the maker of the world, 
 and of all things in it, and also of a future state of 
 righteous retribution. At least so it clearly ap- 
 pears tome, though of late, and only of late, some 
 christian writers Iiave questioned tliis. But how 
 misembly be^^ ildcred were the wisest of the Greeks 
 Mith respect to these subjects. Of die knowledge 
 of a future state, on the only principle of reason, as 
 well as re\elation, ^iz. that of a proper resurrection^ 
 we do not percei^ c the least trace among them. 
 Instead of tliis, they had adopted a notion of a sepa- 
 rate souij or a ghosts descending after deadi into a 
 
 region 
 
THl GRECIAN PHILOSOPHY, 5 
 
 region below the surface of the eai-th, and the most 
 absurd fables relating to their condition there; 
 though these, do not appear to have had any credit 
 with the writers, nor probably with any persons of 
 much thought and reflection among them. 
 
 Section I. 
 
 Of the Obligation to the Worship of the Gods in 
 general. 
 
 The general and established opinion of a superi- 
 or power, or powers, governing the affairs of the 
 world and of men, and the obligation that men were 
 under to Morship them, according to the customaiy 
 rites of each people, was uni^'ersal. And this ^\-as 
 not only the persuasion of the vulgar, but of all the 
 writers without any exception. lu a later period it 
 is probable enough that what several of the writers 
 advance on this subject might arise from a Avish not 
 to shock the prejudices of the populace, but witli 
 respect to the period of which I am now treating, 
 there seems to be no reason to doubt of their sincer- 
 ity; the precepts on this subject are so numerous, 
 and urged in so emphatical a manner by them all. 
 The obligation to worship the gods is urged by So- 
 A 3. Ion, 
 
6 THE PRINCrrLES OF 
 
 loii, one of whose sayings \\as, " honour the gods, 
 Tcver- ence thy parents." 
 
 Nor.e of tlie seven wise men of Greece, ea:i be 
 said to liave been ^Titers, and therefore we have not 
 sufficient authority for iheir real opinions. But 
 Theognis imd Phoc) lides m ere ; and in the poem 
 of the former, we find (^ . 170.) " Pray to the gods 
 " \\lio have great power, for \\ itliout the gods men 
 " have neither good nor evil." Here we see the 
 belief of tliis writer in the pro^idence, as well as in 
 the existence, of the gods ; but we shall have more 
 abundant evidence of this hereafter. Phocylides 
 s:ivs(v. 7.) " In the first place Avorship die gods, 
 " then honour thy parents, judge no man unjusUy, 
 " for afterwards God will judge thee." Indeed, 
 Vv hat this poet says of God may w ith some reason be 
 suspected to have been drawn from tlie principles 
 of revelation, and therefore to be an interpolation. 
 For he says, v. 48, *' There is one God, w ise, pow- 
 " crful, and self sufficient." 
 
 Hesiod, tl:ough in liis Theogony he retails all 
 the Grecian fables concerning the origin and de- 
 scent of tlie gods, all of wliom he derives from the 
 ^'<7;7/?, which was therefore prior to tliem all, }-et his 
 poem intided On Ji'orks contains excellent senti- 
 ments 
 
THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHY. 7 
 
 ments, and good ad\'ice on this subject, as well as 
 on many others. Addressing his brother, he says, 
 (Lib. I. V 334.) " According to thy ability, sacii- 
 *' ficc to tlie immortal gods morning and evening, 
 *' that they may shew thee favour, and that thou may- 
 " est purchase the possesions of others, and others 
 " not purchase tliine. Pray (Lib. U. v. 84.) to Ju- 
 " piter and Ceres, that you may have a good in- 
 *' crease." According to Hesiod Jupiter destroy- 
 ed a whole race of men, because they did not give 
 due honour to the gods, (Lib. L v. 138.) 
 
 Many of Hesiod's precepts relating to religion, 
 and the business of husbandly too, savour of a ridi- 
 culous superstition ; but at tiiis we cannot wonder, 
 considering in how earl)^ and ignorant an age he 
 lived. *' Do not," says he (Lib. IL v. 343.) 
 " make libation, to Jupiter with unwashen hands, 
 " nor to the other immortal gods ; for they will not 
 " hear, but abominate, such prayers." His poem 
 On Days contains hardly any diing besides directi- 
 ons of the most superstitious and absurd kind, but 
 his two books On IVorks contain many excellent 
 precepts, botli of morality, and coramon pru- 
 dence. 
 
 A 4. Sect I- 
 
THE FRINCIPLES OF 
 
 Section II. 
 
 Of the Superiority of Jupiter^ the principal God of 
 the Greeks. 
 
 Notwithstanding the polytheism of the Greeks, 
 they retained so much of the primitive doctrine of 
 one supreme God, that they gave this pre-eminence to 
 their Jupiter ; and indeed seem to have ascribed to 
 him universal dominion, and every attribute requi- 
 site for the exercise of it. We see tliis even in Ho- 
 mer, notwithstanding his account of such actions of 
 the same Jupiter as sink him far below the level of 
 many men. But a strolling bard, ^^ ho got liis liv- 
 ing by accommodating himself to all kinds of peo- 
 ple, could not conti'adict the popular tales of his 
 countrymen, absurd as he might think them ; and 
 they, served, as a ver}' convenient machinery ^ as it is 
 now called, for his poem. 
 
 Besides that one of the epithets of Jupiter in Ho- 
 mer {fjLrjTisIa) implies wisdom, he is expressly said, 
 (Iliad, Lib. XIII. v. 631.) to "excel all the gods 
 ** and men in wisdom" ; and when the wisdom of 
 Ulysses and also that of Hector, is praised, it is 
 
 compar- 
 
 I 
 
 ^ 
 
THE GRECIAN PHILOS 
 
 OIHV. 
 
 compared to that of Jupiter (Iliad. Lib. II. 168. 
 Lib. VII. V. 74) He is also stiled the omnipotent (Iliad. 
 Lib. II. V. 115.) and said "to command mortals 
 " and immortals" ( Lib. XII. v. 242.) He is repre- 
 sented as asserting his own superiority to all the gods 
 and goddesses, both in wisdom and power, and they 
 all allow it (Iliad, Lib. VIII. v 9 ) &c. When the 
 demolition of several cities, particularly named, is 
 ascribed to him, it is added, " whose power is the 
 *' greatest." (Iliad, Lib. IX. v. 25.) 
 
 Theognis had the same idea of the great superi- 
 ority of Jupiter, when he says (v 802.) " not even 
 * ' Jupiter, who rules over moitals and immortals, 
 " can please all men." 
 
 With respect to the issue of the Trojan war, Ho- 
 mer says, " the will of Jupiter was done." (Iliad, 
 Lib. I. V 5.) as if the whole had depended upon him ; 
 and yet there remains some doubt whether there 
 was not, even in the opinion of Homer himself, an- 
 other power in some respects superior to him, and 
 which he could not control, viz. Fate as we shall see 
 hereafter. 
 
 We could not expect such attributes as these of 
 
 the gi-eatest wisdom and power in the son of Saturn, 
 
 though called the father of gods and men (Iliad, 
 
 A5. Lib. 
 
to THE PRINCIPLES OF 
 
 Lib, XV. V. 47.) for according to HesiocI, this Sa- 
 turn was only the youngest son, or production, of 
 the earth and the l^icavens, and had no higher epidiet 
 dian diat of crafty (aixi^>.c/^-,/7fjr) and the hcoveiis^ 
 one of his parents, ^vas die oft"s]7ring of the earthy 
 tlie odicr of them. 
 
 ITiis universal opinion of the great superiority of 
 Jupiter had certainly a higher origin than Hesiod's 
 Theogony gives him, and must have been die re- 
 mains of a much purer system of theolog}', which 
 taught the doctrine oloiie God, infinitely w ise, po\\'- 
 crful, and good, a flivourer of virtue, and superin- 
 tending all the affairs of men, as we sliall see this 
 Jupiter to do. 
 
 Section III. 
 
 Of Providence* 
 
 The faithcr wc proceed in this examination, th<r 
 more conxinced we shall be that the Jupiter of die 
 more sensible of the Greeks was a very different 
 person from die son of the crafty Saturn, or the le- 
 cherous deity of the vulgar, and of the stage ; and 
 A\ e shall see that they gave him a field of exertion 
 suitable to the extraordinary jxjwcrs widi ^vhich 
 
 diey 
 
THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHY. 11 
 
 they invested him. According to them, he m as 
 nothing less than the supreme Governor of the 
 world, and the sovereign disposer of all things in 
 it, and not only of such things as cannot be fore- 
 seen or prevented by man, but of such as seem to 
 depend upon human exertion. 
 
 Wealth is, to appearance, most certainly acquir- 
 ed by industry and economy, directed by good 
 sense in the conduct of men's affairs ; but notwith- 
 standing this, it is constantly represented by these 
 writers as the gift of Jupiter, and if a man be poor, 
 it is by them ascribed to his not favouring him. 
 Hesiod says (On Works, Lib. I. v. 5.) " It is Ju- 
 *' piter who raises up one, and depresses another. 
 *' It is Jupiter who gi-ves poverty to men," (On 
 Works, Lib. II. v. 257.) Theognis says (v. 157. 
 165.) " No person is rich or poor," and he adds, 
 *' good or bad," without a deity. He makes " some 
 *' rich, and others poor. God surrounds a good 
 " man with every blessing, good success, aiidfrce- 
 " dom from folly ; and we ought to bear whatever 
 *' die gods impose upon us." (v. 591.) Agreea- 
 bly to this he prays (v. 1115.) "May Apollo and 
 " Jupiter grant that I may live free from evil, en- 
 " joying health and riches." He says, however 
 
 (v. 863. 
 
12 THE PRINCIPLES OF 
 
 (v. 863.) " God g'lNCS wealth to many worthless 
 " men, who are of no use to themselves, or their 
 ** friends;" Still, however it is disposed of, it is 
 the gift of the gods. And he says (v. 325.) " K 
 " the gods give a bad man wealth and riches, like a 
 ** fool, he cannot restrain his malice, but a just man 
 " is tlie same in good or bad fortune." He there- 
 fore reasonably makes this a motive to a good use 
 of riches. ** Whatever God gives to you, of that 
 " give to the poor." He also makes it a motive 
 to bear misfortunes with patience. " In misfortune 
 ** pray to tlie gods, and make no boast, (v. 357.) 
 According to the poetical representation of Ho- 
 mer (Iliad. Lib. XXIV. v. 527) " There are placed 
 "at the gates of Jupiter two casks, one of them 
 *' containing good, and the other evil," out of which 
 it is hereby intimated that he gives to man out 
 of one or other of them as he pleases. According 
 to tlie uniform language of Homer, honour is also 
 the gift of Jupiter, as well as advantages of every o- 
 therkind. (Iliad. Lib. IL v. 198.) 
 
 The events of war arc, according to Homer, no 
 less at the disposal of Juj^iter, than wealth and honor, 
 though the Greeks had a god, Mai-s, whose pe- 
 culiar province it ^^ as to attend to it. He is ex- 
 pressly 
 
THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHT. IS 
 
 pressly called (Iliad. Lib. IV. v 84.) " the arbiter 
 " of war" and is said, (Iliad. Lib. IL v. 309.)" to 
 " give the victory to whom he pleases It is he" 
 he says " (Iliad. Lib. II. v. 94.) that makes a man 
 *' a warrior, and he soon turns to flight the valiant'* 
 (Iliad, Lib. XVI. V. 690.) He even inspired Ajax 
 with fear (Lib. XI. v. 543.) Hesiod, agreeably to 
 these sentiments, says (On Works, Lib. I. v. 225.) 
 ' ' Jupiter does not visit a just nation with war." 
 
 In like manner this poet considers the same Ju- 
 piter as the giver of wine, though Bacchus is said to 
 have discovered it, to have imparted it to men, and 
 to preside over eveiy thing relating to it. Nay, 
 Hesiod, in three or four different places of his The- 
 ogny, gives the gods in general the glorious title of 
 QoTvpsg socwv,) the ghers of good. (v. 46, 633, 664, 
 &c.) It was a saying of Bias, "Whatever good you do 
 " ascribe it to the^ods." These are precious re- 
 mains of a very remote antiquity, derived no 
 doubt, from the most genuine and purest source. 
 
 In order to this government of the world, and 
 the sovereign distributions of every thing in it, it 
 was necessary that the gods, and especially Jupiter, 
 the chief of them, should know every thing that 
 passes in it; and accordingly this is taken for 
 
 granted 
 
14 THE PRINCIPLES OF 
 
 j^rmiitcd by all tlit- writers witliin lliis period. " Do 
 " not" says Thcoiriiis, (\ . 1195.) " swear falsely 
 ♦M)\ the 'j-ocls. This is not to be home, for no- 
 " thing can be concealed from tliem." " The 
 " eye of Jupiter," says Ilesiod, (On Works, Lib. 
 I. V. 205.) " who sees every thing, and iinder- 
 ** stands eveiy thing, is not ignorant of any thing 
 *' diat passes widiin a state." He is Uiercfore fre- 
 qiv.ntly appealed to in Homer as always present, 
 and a witness io contracts, as in (Iliad, Lib. \'n. 
 V. 76. 411.) He is pra3ed to (Iliad, Lib. VH. 
 V. 178.) to determine the lot that was to decide 
 ^\ hieh of die Greciim m iirriors was to fight Hector. 
 It was a saying of Thales (who said that God had 
 no beginning and w ill have no end,) diat "neither 
 *' the actions, nor die thoughts, of bad men are con- 
 ** cealed from die gods." 
 
 As attending more especially to the affairs of 
 stiites, and kingdoms, Jupiter is rei)rcsented its 
 " die guardian of kings," (Iliad. Lib. II. v. 97.) 
 and die Greeks are said to have derived their hws 
 from him (Lib. I. v. 239.) How uncerta'ui any 
 paiticular event may be widi respect to man, it is 
 uot so, according to Thcognis, widi respect to 
 God. " It is difficuh," he says (v. 1074.) " to 
 
 " know 
 
THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHY. 15 
 
 " know liow a thing that is not finished will end, 
 " or how God will bring it about." 
 
 This is frequently the language of our scriptures 
 with respect to the constant attention that God gives 
 to the affairs of men, distributing health, wealth, 
 power, success in wai*, and ever\- other natural ad- 
 vantage, or withholding them, and appointing in 
 their place calamity of every kind, as he pleases, 
 and for reasons that it is not in the power of man to 
 comprehend. These heathens do not, however, 
 seem to have entertained the same persuasion that 
 the sacred writers had, of the wisdom and good- 
 ness of the Supreme Being in these mysterious 
 dispensations, which, whether they could distin- 
 guish or not, they always take for granted. These 
 heathens also never express the noble sentiment 
 that occurs so frequently in the scriptures, that 
 hardships of every kind are frequently appointed to 
 be the lot of the righteous, for an exercise of their 
 virtue, and as the correction of a kind and judici- 
 ous parent; and that a proper reception of them, 
 and behaviour under them, will entitle the virtu- 
 ous sufferers to a glorious rew:u'd. Having no 
 knowledge of a future state, they could not sec so 
 far into the conduct of providence. 
 
 Section 
 
16 THE PRINCIPLES OF 
 
 Section IV. 
 
 Of Jupiter'' s Regard to Virtue. 
 
 As the early Greek \\Titers have given to Jupiter 
 the government of the world, though not the creati- 
 on of it, and invested him with powers equal to it, 
 they have not failed to give him a disposition worthy 
 of that high station, representing him as the fi-iend 
 of virtue in general, and especially of justice, be- 
 coming so great a governor. 
 
 Hesiod has many excellent observations, express, 
 ed with great energy, on this subject. " Let us" 
 hesays(OnWorks,Lib. I. v. 35.) " give right judg- 
 *' ments in contests, for these are from Jupiter. Ex- 
 " ercise justice, and forget violence, this is the law 
 " that Jupiter imposes upon men, and that only 
 " beasts of prey should live by violence and slaugh- 
 " ter, (On Works, Lib. L v.275. ) Jupiter, see- 
 *' ing at a distance, punishes injustice and wickcd- 
 „ ness, (On Works, Lib. I v. 236.) the people die, 
 f" women do not bear children, families decrease, 
 *' and their ships perish. To just men Jupiter 
 " gives wealth, and his descendants prosper, but the 
 
 " un- 
 
THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHY. 17 
 
 " unjust man injures himself, and his posterit}." 
 (On Works, Lib. I. v. 280.) 
 
 To enforce these admonitions, he gives the fol- 
 lowing beautiful allegory, " O kings, respect jus- 
 *' tice ; for the gods, who are conversant among 
 *' men, see all the unjust judgments of those who 
 *' do not regard their thieatenings- ¥ov there lue 
 " three myriads, the sons of Jupiter on the eaitli, 
 " the guardians of men, who take an account botli of 
 " justice and injustice, having vestments of air, and 
 *' visiting all paits of the eaith. Justice is a virgin, 
 "the daughter of Jupiter; and if any person of- 
 *' fend her, she immediately complains of it to Ju- 
 *' piter, and the people suffer for the offences of 
 " their kings, who do not decide justly." (On 
 Works, Lib. L v. 246.) Lastly, he represents 
 Jupiter as having resolved to destroy the fifth, and 
 last, race of men, on account of their \'ices and 
 depravity in general. (On W^orks, Lib. I. v. 178.) 
 
 Thcognis concurs in tlie same sentiments Avlth 
 Hesiod in representing Jupiter as the friend and 
 benefactor of good men. " The wealth," (^ . 197.) 
 *' hesaysthat Jupiter gives to a just man is perma- 
 * ' nent. By inj u sticc and op]:)resssion many acqu ire 
 ** wealth; but it will be lost, for the mind of God 
 ** is superior," B. More 
 
18 THE pp. IX CI PL ES OF 
 
 More especially, Jupiter, and the gods in gene- 
 ral, are represented as offended at perjury, and de- 
 termined to punisl) it. " The immortal gods,'* 
 says Phocylidcs (v. 15.) " hate a false oath, 
 whoever takes it." And Tlieognis says, " nevei- 
 *' sv.car that any thing shall not he ; for the gods 
 *' are angry at it." (v. 659.) In Homer Jupiter is 
 frequently appe^iled to for the obsenancc of oatlis, 
 and requested to punish the guilty, (Iliad, Lib. III. 
 \. 321.) Talthybias calls to witness in the first 
 place Jupiter, stiled on this occasion, by the re- 
 markable character of the greatest and the best, 
 then the sun, the earth, and the furies, who he says 
 punish the perjured under tlie earth, (Iliad, Lib. 
 
 XIX. V. 257.) 
 
 * 
 
 Odier vices are occasionally mentioned as incur- 
 ring the indignation of Jupiter. " Father Jupiter 
 *' will not favour a liar" (Iliad, Lib. IV. v. 235.) 
 *' May the celestial gods," says Theognis {\. 850.) 
 *' destroy the man tliat shall by smooth speeclics 
 " deceive his friend." Hesiod says (On Works, 
 Lib. I. V. 329.) " He \\ ho deceives the orphan, or 
 " abuseshis aged parents, Jupiter is certainly angiy 
 " with him, and at the last he wxVi give an account 
 "of all his unjust actions." In Homer Mene- 
 
 laus 
 
THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHY. 19 
 
 laus prays that "Jupiter may give lilm to punish 
 " the wicked Alexander, that hereafter all men may 
 " dread to injure a person who has received them 
 " with kindness." (Iliad, Lib. III. v. 11.) Chi- 
 lon being asked what Jupiter was doing, said, 
 ." He is humbling the proud and exalting the hum- 
 '' ble." 
 
 No Jew orChristian could appeal with more con- 
 fidcnce to the justice and equity of die true God 
 than these persons do to tlieir Jupiter. It is evi- 
 dent, therefore, that, whate^'cr name they gave this 
 object of their worship they had the same Idea of 
 his general character ; and this must have been de- 
 rived from the same source. The belief of a rig] v 
 teous governor of the world appears ne\'er to liave , 
 been wholly abandoned by mankind. Though 
 the name was changed, and multiplicitv took tlie 
 place of unity, what was most essential to the rip-h- 
 teous administration of affairs was, in a considera- 
 ble degree, though accompanied with much super- 
 stition, retained. The heathens were deficient 
 chiefly in their ignorance of a future state, in \\ hich 
 the seeming ireigularities, and many unaccounta- 
 ble appearances in this life, will be rectified to uni- 
 versal satisfaction. 
 
 B2. Se 
 
 ECTI- 
 
20 THE PRINCIPLES OF 
 
 Section V. 
 Of the Influence of the Fates. 
 
 It is something remarkable that, notwithstanding; 
 the omnipotence which the hcatliens ascribed to 
 their gods, and their control over the affairs of men, 
 they had an idea of a power which the godstliem- 
 selvcs either could not, or did not chuse to oppose. 
 This A\as Fate J or the Fates. And yet this was a 
 di' inityto\\hichthey never ascribed any degree of 
 wisdom. 
 
 According to Hesiod, the Fates were the daugh- 
 ters of Jupiter, and he gave tiiem this extraordinary 
 power. " Jupiter" (and whom on this occasion 
 he styles " the wise^ ^yitistoi) produced the Pai'coc 
 " (tjioc'ov) Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, to whom 
 *' he gave the greatest honour, who distribute good 
 '' and evil to mortal men," Theognis v. 905. 
 But in another place of the same poem (v. 211) he 
 says that, *' Niglit produced odious Fate (>t>?pa) 
 ** and die black Pare oe {gaptoiJi) and death, without 
 
 " the concurrence of any deity and die fatiJ 
 
 " goddesses, and cruel Parcce, Clotho, Lachesis, 
 
 ''and 
 
THE GRECIAN THILOSOPHY. 2i 
 
 •* and Atropos, \vho appoint good and evil to men 
 ** tliat are born, vvlio revenging the offences of men 
 *■■ and gods, never remit of their anger till they have 
 punished the offender." Here the same powers 
 have a different origin, and are altogether indepen- 
 dent of Jupiter, or any of the gods, and superior 
 to them all. 
 
 Besides the sovereign power over life and death, 
 and external advantages of eveiy kind, the affecti- 
 ons and characters of men are sometimes ascribed 
 to these fates. " The Fates," says Homer, (Iliad, 
 Lib. XXIV. V. 49.) "give a patient mind to man." 
 However, with respect to the important article of 
 life or death, their decision a\ iis never violated ; 
 and the time, and all the circumstances, of a man's 
 death we^-e determined by them, as wtW as the 
 death itself. Thus Neptune assures Achilles, who 
 knew that he was never to return from the siege of 
 Troy, tliat i^ was not his fate to be drowned in the 
 river, when he apprehended that he was in great 
 danger from it. (Iliad, Lib. XXI. v. 291.) He 
 wishes that he might die by the hand of Hector, a 
 brave man, but he knew that he should fall b^- a 
 less noble hand. (Iliad, Lib. XXI. v. 278.) 
 
 Whatever tJic gods might wish, tliey never fail. 
 B 3. ea 
 
j22 TJIE PRINCIPLES OF 
 
 eel to acquiesce in the known decision of the lutes, ' 
 Achilles, lamenting his destiny, says that " Hercu- 
 " les, though most dear to Jupiter, was conquered 
 " by Fate, and tlie anger of Juno (Iliad, Lib. 
 XVIII. V. 118.) *^ It was in the fates,'* he says, 
 (Iliad. Lib. XVIII. v. 328.) ^' that two friends of 
 *' his should die before Troy, as ^vcll as that he 
 *' was not to return to Greece." It was one of 
 the sayings of Pittacus. '' The Gods cannot op- 
 *•' pose Fate.'' 
 
 On several occasions the gods express some de- 
 gree of fear least the orders of tlie fates should 
 be violated. Neptune, expressing his regard for 
 JEneas, advises him not to fight before the death 
 of Achilles (Iliad, Lib. XX. v. 336.) though he 
 kneA\' that it was not in the fates that he should die 
 by his hand. Both Apollo and Jupiter express 
 dieir concern lest the Greeks should take Troy be- 
 fore the time ordained by the fiites. (Iliad, Lib. 
 XXL V. 516. XX. V. 30.) 
 
 On some occasions Jupiter, who is said to ha\« 
 gi^ en this great power to the fates, seems to think 
 it was in his power to control them, and to have 
 been half inclined to do it ; but he yielded to t!ie 
 |env)Uijtrances of Uie other i$ods, who opposed 
 
 his 
 
THE GRECIAN PlIILOSOril Y. 23 
 
 his resolution. When Hector was driven by A- 
 chillcs round the walls of Troy, Jupiter expressed 
 an inclination to save him from death. But Mi- 
 nerva says to him, (Iliad, Lib. XXII. v. 180.) 
 " Would you deliver from death a mortal man, 
 *' destined to die by the fates ? Do ^^ hat jou 
 *' please, but vvc, the rest of the gods, will not give 
 *' our consent." He acknowledged that it was i.i 
 the fates that Sarpcdon should die by tlie hand of 
 Patroclus, and wished to con\ ey him to a pkce of 
 safety ; but Juno expostulating with him on the 
 subject, he acqu iesccd. (Iliad. Lib. XVI. v. 432.) 
 The independence of the decision of these fates on 
 the will of the gods seems not to have been a fixed 
 principle. For Ulysses, speaking to Tii-esias in 
 the Elysian fields says, according to Homer, (O- 
 dyssey, Lib. XI. v. 138. ) " Perhaps the gods them- 
 *' selves have decreed these things. {.'Tr-KKMa-ocv) 
 At what time this decision of the fates ^Aas made, 
 is not said in these writers ; but it uas commonly 
 supposed to be at the birth of every particular per., 
 son. It was, however, considered as so in'cvocar 
 ble, that these fates, though goddesses, were never 
 prayed to, it being taken for granted that w hatever 
 they had advanced it \\'ould never be altered. 
 
 B 4. Thero 
 
24 THE PRINCIPLES O? 
 
 There ^^ as another celestial pow cr acknowledg- 
 ed by the Greeks, but seemmgly not so early as 
 the times of Hesiod and Homer, as they make no 
 mcntifjn of her. This ^^ as Fortune. For whate- 
 ver was afterwards ascribed to her, is by him, and 
 all the other writers that I ha\e quoted, ascribed to 
 Jupiter, or some other of the gods. 
 
 Neither of these pow crs arc, however, known in 
 the scriptures. According to them, everj^ thing in the 
 \\ orld, life and death, riches and poverty, success, 
 orde want of it, in war, and undertakings of any 
 odier kind, are ascribed to the providence of that 
 one Gody who created and governs all things, and 
 whose w^ill, independently of any such powers as 
 those of Fate or Fortune, decides upon every thing. 
 To him we arc taught to look for ever)- thing, as 
 being whoU}* dependant upon him, and accounta- 
 ble to him. This frees the mind from tliat per- 
 plexity, to which the wisest of the heatliens must 
 have been subject, w hile they had any apprehensi- 
 on of this hl'ind Jate to which, whether willingly or 
 unwillingly, their gods themselves, widiout except- 
 ing even Jupiter, submitted. 
 
 Secti- 
 
THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 25 
 
 Section VI. 
 
 Of Moral Duties, and also of Death and the Con- 
 sequences of'U. 
 
 Almost all the writers that I have quoted in tliis 
 part of my work deliver excellent precepts both 
 respecting morals properly so called, and the pru- 
 dent conduct of life, similar to the Proi^erbs of So- 
 lomon, to which they will often well bear to be 
 compared. Many parts of Hesiods poem On Works, 
 and the sentences of Theognis, ai-e particularly va- 
 luable on this account, though the superstition of 
 the former, or rather that of the age and the coun- 
 try in which he lived, as appears in the second piut 
 of the poem viz. On Days, is extreme. 
 
 On the subject of death, and its consequences, 
 there is a remarkable silence in all the serious wri- 
 ters of this period. The knowledge of the doc- 
 trine of a resurrection was completely lost, but 
 there are traces of a belief that the soul survives 
 the gra^'e, though not of any state of righteous re- 
 tribution, in which the righteous will be rewarded, 
 and the wicked punished for their actions here, ex- 
 B 5. cept 
 
26 tiife prvixciPLE3 0? 
 
 cept in those fables of Homer concerning the state 
 of ghosts in tartarus and elysium, probably not se- 
 riously believed by himself; so that the great sanc- 
 tion of virtue, familiar to Jews and Cliristians was 
 unknomi to them. 
 
 In Fhocylidcs are some sentences which express 
 a clear 1:)elief of souls surviving the grave. " Im- 
 *' mortal souls," he says (v. 110.) " free from old 
 *' age, li^e for ever. All the dead are equal," 
 (v. 105.) "but God governs souls. Wc hope to 
 " see the remains of the dead come out of the eai'tli 
 *' into light, after which they will be gods. For 
 *' incorruptible Souls remain in the dead. The 
 *' spirit is the image of God given to mortals," 
 (v. 100.) According to this the soul continues at- 
 tached to the body some time after it is dead, which 
 was the opinion of the Egyptians, and the cause, 
 as it is thought of their endeavouring to presciTC 
 the bodies so long by embalming them, and keep- 
 jnsrthem in their houses. 
 
 o 
 
 After tlie perusal of this, how happy ought we to 
 think ourselves for enjoyingdie glorious light of die 
 Gospel, by which, and by which alone, life aiidim- 
 mortality are brought to lights Without this light, 
 the r^'ii'^oOTo/'/^^ujrA/avaik'd but little to the mo- 
 ral 
 
THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHY. 27 
 
 pal improvement and happiness of man. And as 
 we proceed we shall find no increase of light, but 
 rather of darkness, with respect to this subject. 
 
 • F 
 
F 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 of 
 PYTHAGORAS. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 X^ YTHAGORASappeiirs to have been the first of 
 all the Greeks who gave his m hole time to philosophy 
 either in die acquisition of know ledge or in die com- 
 munication of it to odiers. He is said to have been a 
 native of Samos, and after having had some instiuc- 
 tion from Pherec}des of Scyros, (of whom litUe is 
 known, except that he liad some knowledge of Ori- 
 ental philosoph}',) he wtnX. to Kg}-pt ; where, hav- 
 ing the patronage of the king Aniasis, he obtained 
 leave to be initiated into the religion and philoso- 
 phy of die Egyptians. The priests made him un- 
 dergo a \Qry severe discipline, including circumci- 
 sion, but he submitted to everj^ thing they enjoin- 
 ed ; and, continuing in the countiy twenty tM o 
 years, may be presumed to ha^•e acquired all the 
 
 know- 
 
OF THE PHILOSOPHY, 8<C. 29 
 
 kno^vledge that could be obtained there. Finding 
 on liis return no sufficient encouragement, in his 
 endeavours to open a school of pliilosophy in his 
 own country, he finally settled at Crotona, in that 
 part of Itiily which, in consequence of having been 
 colonized by Greeks, was called Magna Grascia ; 
 from Avhich his sect of philosophy was called tlie 
 Italic. Here his disciples were veiy numerous, 
 and they continued with more or less reputation a- 
 bout tv.o hundrad years. 
 
 It is not possible to ascertain with any certainty 
 what it v.as tliat was taught by Pythagoras himself. 
 For, besides committing nothing to w riting, he en- 
 joined the strictest secrecy on all his pupils, train- 
 ing them to tile most severe discipline, the first part 
 of which is said to have been an uninteiTupted si- 
 lence of five years. By this means nothing of his 
 doctrines transpired till a little before the time of 
 Plato, w^hich m as something more than a century 
 after the establishment of the sect, m hen se\'cral phi- 
 losophers in Greece having acquired much reputa- 
 tion by their writings, the masters of the Italic 
 schools began to publish \\ hat the}- had been taught 
 of its doctrines, but mixed with their own. 
 
 Of these later Pythagoreans there are extant two 
 curious and valuable treatises, one by Ocellus 
 
 Luca- 
 
so or THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 Lucanus aiid the other I)y Timoeus Locrus, be- 
 sides many large extracts by Stoboeus from the 
 writings of iVrchytas, and besides many fragments 
 irom Theages, the Sentences of Democrates, Se- 
 cundus, Demopliilus and Sextus, and verses 
 Avhich ha^-e obtained for their excellence the title 
 Q^golderiy \vritten as Fabriciufs supposes by Empc- 
 docles, but certainly by some learned Pythagorean. 
 From these sources Ave must now be content to 
 collect the best account rhat A\e can of the genei*al 
 principles of the Pythagorean philosophy. They 
 are all published in Gale''s Opuscula Mythologicay7m(\. 
 some of the latter of them I suspect to contain sen- 
 timents that do not properly belong to any svstem of 
 heathen philosoph}-, but to have been borrowed from 
 Christianity. In the choice of these I have been 
 vcr)- sparing, and tliey \\\\\ be noticed, as it is mv 
 object not to go beyond the time when Christianity 
 became tlie religion of tlie Roman emperors. 
 
 From the genuine tracts above-mentioned it will 
 not be difficult to collect a prett}' just idea of tlie 
 principles of this sect, at least as improved by the 
 followers of Pythagoras ; and as to what he tiiught 
 that has never come to light, a\ hich was probabl} 
 something more near to the oriental philosophy, it 
 is of little conseijuencc to know at present. 
 
 Secti- 
 
OF PYTHAGOHAS. 51 
 
 I 
 
 vSection I. 
 Concerning God. , 
 
 That God is the maker and go^-ernor of the 
 world, and the sovereign disposer ofall events, was 
 taken for granted by all the Pythagxjreans, and there 
 is a great display of genuine piety in what re- 
 mains of their writings. Timoeus says " God is 
 " the author and parent of all tilings, but what is 
 '' produced by him we see with our eyes." The 
 honour due to God, and to other objects of wor- 
 ship according to their respective ranks, is incul- 
 cated in the first of the golden verses of Pythago- 
 ras. " In the first place honor the gods, as the 
 *' laws direct, ^id observe oaths. Then venerate 
 *' the famous heroes, and the infernal godsjperform- 
 *' ing with respect to them the rites directed bv 
 *' the laws. Then honour thy pai^ents, and nearest 
 ^^ relations." This probably refers to some religious 
 ceremony in honour of men's ancestors, which is 
 to this day a great article in the religion of tlie 
 Hindoos. 
 
 All this, however, might be in obedience to 
 tlie laws, the omission of whiciv would have been 
 
 punish- 
 
32 OF THE PRINCIPLES 
 
 punishable ; but the author of these verses farther 
 directs to begin no work \\ ithout asking the di- 
 vine blessing for its success. Evil, as well as 
 good, is here ascribed to the providence of God- 
 " Whatever portion you have of the calamity that 
 *' befals men through the divine appointment bear 
 *' with patience, and without complaining. How- 
 *' ever, remedy the evil if you can, and consider 
 " that the Piircoe do not assign much of this to 
 good men." Here the assignment of the Paiccc 
 are considered as the same \\ ith the will of the 
 gods. One of the sayings collected byDemophi- 
 Iu3 is, " God sends evil to men not in anger, for an- 
 **■ ger is foreign to God. This takes place ^\ hen 
 " things come by accident, whereas nothing can 
 " come to God but what he wills." 
 
 There is much good sense, as well as piety, in 
 the precepts of Pythagoras relating to God, at 
 least such as are ascribed to him by those ^\ ho 
 collected his sayings. Among them are die fol- 
 lowing. " Gifts and sacrifices confer no honour 
 '* on God, but a pious mind joins it finally to 
 •' God. For things that are similar must be joined 
 " to things Jiimilar, (Dem.) God has not on tlie 
 *' eaith a place more suitable to him dian a cliaste 
 
 "and 
 
fiF PYTHAGORAS, 33 
 
 ^' and pure mind. (lb.) If you consider that 
 " whatever is done by the mind or tlie body is 
 " seen by God^, you will revere his presence, from 
 *' whom nothing can be concealed ; for you will 
 " have God residing in your breast," (lb.) Having 
 mentioned a \ariety of good works, the golden 
 verses add, " These will put you in the way ofdi- 
 " vine virtue." 
 
 It is the more probable that these pious senti- 
 ments were the genuine produce of the Pythagore- 
 an school, as it was nearer to tlie patriarchal times, 
 and something like those in die book of Job, v.hen 
 ti'ue piety was still more prevalent, and more free 
 from supcrstidon. Wesliall, however, observe a la- 
 mentable departure from the simple idea of revela- 
 tion, when we see what the Pythagoreans say con- 
 cerning the structure of the world, and the nature 
 of the human soul, on which subjects tliey led the 
 way to all the w ild ideas of Plato and some of the 
 sentiments of Aristotle, though these do not seem 
 to have been willing to acknowledge their obligati, 
 •ns to them. 
 
 SfiCTioiir 
 
M •? THJE PHILOSOPHV 
 
 Section II. 
 Of the Structure of the I^'or/d. 
 
 . , V - -all sec in this section how fai- the iri'^ds of 
 the most intelh^t^ent men can wander from renson 
 and common sense, when they speculate en subjects 
 that are above their comprehension, and on wSch, 
 bavins: no light from re\clation, it was impossible 
 that they should get any at all. 
 
 Moses with great simplicity, as expressing all 
 that he believed, and all that he could know, on the 
 subject, says " h\ the beginning God created the 
 heavens and the earth. But these phil6sophei-s, hav- 
 ing lost e^■ery tradition of this kind, (which, how- 
 evei', was retiiined in the East) maintained tliat tlic 
 universe hud no beginning, as wqW as that it \\\\\ 
 have no end. " All plants and animals, says Ocel- 
 *' lirs Lucimus (Cap. 1. 8v 3.) and also tlie human 
 " race, have always been, and a\ ill c\ or be as they 
 *' now arc." This, too, is contrary to the doc- 
 tiiiieofour scriptures, which holds out to us a far 
 inore pleasing prospect, ^iz. a perpetual progress 
 toa better state of tilings, iuid the great adviuitage 
 
 wliich 
 
o/ PYTHAGORAS. 35 
 
 which virtuous men will derive from it, in their 
 own constcint improvement, and tlic removal of eve- 
 ry impediment to it, with every thing else that is 
 ' painful and distressing to them. Of this no .hea- 
 then philosopher had the least idea. 
 
 Notwithstanding the opinion of the Pythagore- 
 ans, of one Supreme God, they admitted many in- 
 ferior deities, and paiticulai-ly considered i//e 
 worldus endued with life and divinity, and in their 
 account of tlie formation of k we shall see the iutcl- 
 ligible ideas of Rato, which he, no doubt, borrow- 
 ed from them. ^' God," says Timceus, " form- 
 " ed the world out of all kinds of matter. It is 
 *' one, the only begotten, endued with a soul and 
 " reason. Wlien God willed to produce a per 
 *' feet offspring, heTnadc this generated god, not to 
 " be perishable from any cause except by the god 
 *' that made it. The world therefore remains as it 
 *' was created by God, free from corruption and 
 ** death. It is the best of all created things, since 
 " it arose from the best of causes. In this the cre- 
 ** ator proposed to himself no model made by hand, 
 ^'' but his own ideas^ and biteUigible essence, accord- 
 ■* ing to which, when things are made with exqui- 
 ^ site art, they are the most beautiful, and require 
 '* oot to be mei^d by any new operation*" 
 
 C 2. Ta 
 
36 Of THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 In a liuther account of these ideas ^ he says, 
 *' There is in the universe something that is per- 
 " manent, and intelligible, the examplar of the 
 *' things that are produced, which ai-ein a perpetu- 
 *'al flux. "Fhey are called ideas , and are compre- 
 herxded by tlie mind." He afterwards calls these 
 jdcasy«j;-;7z^ which are comprehended by the mind, 
 and science. "Before tlie heavens existed, there 
 *' were fcrms^ 2Xi^mattcr^ and God, who is good, 
 " and is the author of that which is best." 
 
 The Pytliagoreans speak ofevery thing as adapted 
 to harmonical numbers^ and on this subject Timoeus 
 goes into many particulars, A\luch it would be te- 
 dious to recite. *' Of these," however, he says 
 " the soul 01 the world is constituted. Life," he 
 says, " supports the body, and die cause of this is 
 " the soul (ipi>%a)- Harmony supports tl:c world, 
 " aiid ihc cause {aijs^ ) of this is God." Frag- 
 menta. 
 
 " God," he says, " placed the soul of the world 
 " in its center, and also produced it externally,'* 
 probably meaning that, diough seated in the center, 
 its operation goes beyond it. 
 
 The world is not the only inferior deity in this 
 system. " In every part of die world," sa)s Ocel- 
 lus 
 
©P PYTHAGORAS. 37 
 
 Ins Lucanus (cap. 3.) "there are inhabitants of a 
 nature proper to it, as gods in the heavens, men up- 
 on the earth, in tlie higher regions demons, and of 
 course the race of man must always continue. 
 
 Matter these philosophers seem to have consider- 
 ed as having always existed, independently of the 
 deity, and as having been subject to laws which he 
 could not wholly control. " Whence," Timoeus 
 says, though with some degree of obscurity, 
 *' There are two causes of all things, m'mdo^ those 
 " things which are produced with reason, and ne- 
 " cesshy of those which exist by a kind of force, 
 *' according to the powers and properties of body.'* 
 They, therefore, did not want any other cause of 
 evil besides matter. 
 
 Section III. 
 
 Of the Human Soul. 
 
 According to these Pythagoreans, the human soitl 
 is not of a nature so distinct from the body, but 
 that it has both some connection with it, and some 
 properties in common with it, " The source of 
 [^ vice," says Timoeus, is in pleasure and grief, 
 C 3. " desire 
 
53 OF THE PiriLOSOPHY 
 
 *' desire and fear, ^vliich being excited in tlie bo- 
 " dy, get mixed '\\ith the soul, and have obtained 
 " various nhmes from their various effects, as love, 
 ** desire," he. so that the passions are common to 
 the soul and the lx)dy, though they are first excited 
 in tlje latter. 
 
 They maintained, however, the supcriorit}- of 
 tlie mind to the body as when Archytas (Gale's, 
 Op. myth. p. 732.) says, " In ail human ihingswis- 
 *' dom is most excellent, as the sight is more so 
 " than the otlier senses, the mind (vcvg) than the soul 
 " (J'^X^) and the sun than the stai's." Here wc 
 liave two parts of tlie soul, cr of tlie man, dis- 
 til, guished b}' their respecti\e names, the former, 
 signifying the seat of intelligence, and the other that 
 of mere animal life. 
 
 Tlmoeus explains tliis di\ision of die soul far- 
 tlier when he sa}^, " One part of the human soul is 
 * endued \nth reason ahd intelligence, but the o- 
 *' the^Ii- vithout reason, and stuj/ul. Tlie former 
 *' is the r.^iore excellent, but botli have their seat a- 
 *' bout the head, that the other parts of the soul, 
 *' and of the body too, mij^ht be subser\ient to it, 
 *' as being under the same tabernacle of die body. 
 *' But that part of the soul which is witliout reason, 
 
 and 
 
or PYTHAGORA-S. 39 
 
 *' and which is prone to anger, has its seat about 
 " the heart ; and that m hrch has concupiscence 
 *' has its seat about the Hver. But the brain is the 
 " principle, and root, of the spinal TnaiTovv ; and 
 *' in it the soul has the seat of itsgovcrmncnt.,'' 
 (Gale's, opus, mytli. p. 556. 557.) 
 
 Theages divides the soul in the same manner. 
 " One of the pai'ts," he says, *' has reason, another 
 ** anger, andtlie third desire. The virtue of pru- 
 *' dence," he says, " belongs to the first part, for- 
 *' titude to the second, and temperance to the third, 
 *' and justice is the virtue of the whole souL" 
 (Ibid. p. 688.) 
 
 How much more simple and satisfactory is the 
 short account that Moses gives of tlie formation and 
 constituent principles of man. After giving an act 
 count of the formation of all other aniinals, he says 
 that in the last place, God made man oft/ie dust of 
 the ground., and then breathed into him the breada 
 of life, after which he was a living soul, or being ; 
 that is, after the mail was completely made, w ith all 
 his powers, those of the mind, as ^^^ell as those of 
 the body, God enabled him to breath, by which all 
 his powers were excitcd^id brought into actual 
 f :^ercise. Nothing is here said of any division of 
 C4. tlie 
 
40 0? THE rnii.osoPHY 
 
 the principle of life, but he adds, that man ivas 
 made in tlic Ukeiies" ofGod^ meaning probably hav- 
 injr capacity of knoA\ in*:^. and of having intercourse 
 ^\ith him, which other animals have not ; and that 
 lie ff^atie him dominion over all the other animals^ 
 proir:rties v;hicll he has, and fully exercises. 
 
 TliC accort given by these Pythagoreans of the 
 sLite of J le sou i afier deatli, is still more unsatisfactoiy 
 ;and inconsistent. According to the golden verses, 
 the roul isnnmortal. '* If,"saystlicautlior (v. 70.) 
 " when you have left the l)ody, you arrive at tlic 
 " fiee edicr, you \\ ill be \\\\\\ the incorruptible 
 *•*■ immortal gods, and be no longer mortal." Tim- 
 CKUS gives the followdng more detailed account Of 
 the power of man to attain this state, as well as of the 
 punishment of those whose \ices disqualify them 
 for it ; but it isMith a sufficient intimation, that he 
 considered it a:s founded on mere foble, calculated 
 for the use of the \ ulgar, and by no means agreea- 
 ble to truth , so that it is probable that at diis time 
 the Pythagoreans had wholly abandoned all belief 
 in a future state, "Music," he says, "and the 
 " directiix of !t philosophy, are adapted by God, 
 *' and die laws, for the improvement of the mind, 
 *' and they accustom, persuade, and compel, that 
 part of the soul which has no reason to be gendc, 
 
 free 
 
• F PYTHAGORAS, 41 
 
 ** free from anger, arid desire Science, 
 
 *' and antient and venerable philosophy, free the 
 ** mind from false and vain opinions, and gieat ig- 
 *' norance, and raise it to the contemplation of hea- 
 *' venly things, in the knowledgeof which, if a man 
 *' so conduct himself as to be content with his lot, 
 *' and with the accidents of life, and dms aspire af- 
 *' ter a moderate and temperate life', he is in the 
 " way to true felicity. And certainly he to whom 
 " God has given this lot is led by the truest opini- 
 *' onsto the most happy life. But if on the other 
 " hand any be refractoiy, and will not obey diese 
 *' sacred precepts, he will be amenable to those 
 *' la\vs which denounce both celestial and infernal 
 -** punishments. Unrelenting punishments await 
 " the unhappy manes, and other tilings mentioned 
 *' by the Ionic poet, as derived from tradition, by 
 " the hearing of which he wished to draw the minds 
 " of men to religion and purity. On this account 
 " I approve of his conduct. As we cure diseased 
 " bodies by unwholesome medicines if they will not 
 " yield to those that are wholesome, so we restrain 
 *' minds with deceitful discourses, if they will not 
 *' yield to true ones. On this account, too, fo- 
 */ reign punishments are denounced," (tjiat is, 
 
 C 5? such 
 
4i9 Op THE PIIILOSOPKY 
 
 such as were believed by foreign natioub,) '' a^tlic 
 " transmii^ations of souls into \'arious bodies, 
 ** viz. those of the idle into the bodies of women, 
 " murderers into those of wild beasts, of the libicli- 
 " nous into those of hogs or beara, of tlie light an4 
 *' rash into fowls, of ihc idle and foolish into aqua- 
 " tic uiiimalb" (Gale's, Op. Myth. p. 565. 566.) 
 &c. Certainly the man a\ ho cotild write this' could 
 have no belit f of any future punishment of the 
 wicked, ^\hateA er he might think of the state of the 
 virtuous after death. 
 
 But when the question luhat is death was put to 
 Secundus, his answer is decisively against any fu- 
 ture state at all. >' It is," he says, *' an eternal 
 *' sleep, the dread of the rich, the desire of the poor, 
 *' the inevitable event, the robber of man, the flight 
 ** of life, and the dissolution of all things." (Gale's, 
 Op. M}-th p. Gil.) Such were the comfortless 
 prospects of this philosophy in its most advanced 
 state. "What a \\ retched choice ^\■ould a christjan 
 make by exchanging liis religion for tins. 
 
 S£CTI-' 
 
^F PYTHAGORAS. 45 
 
 Section IV. 
 Of Got)d afid Eijil., Virtue and Vke. 
 
 The writings of the Pythagoreans contain num- 
 berless excellent m'oral maxims and precepts^ ex- 
 pressed in the most forcible language, and their ac- 
 count of what is good IS agreeable to common sense, 
 %vhich we shall see was not the case ^^■ith many of 
 the philosophers who came after them. 
 
 " Some goods,*" says Archytas, " are desired 
 *' on tlicir own account, some on the account of o- 
 *' ther things, and a third bodi for their omti sake, 
 *' and that of other things. What then is that 
 *' good which is desired on its outi account, and 
 " not for the sake of any thing else ? It is happi- 
 *' ness. For the sake of this we desire every thing 
 *' else, but diis for the sake of nothing further. 
 " (Gale's, Op. Myth. p. 674.) A good man is not 
 *' immediately and necessarily happy, but a happy 
 *' man must be good. You musj not," says De- 
 mophilus, " hastily pronounce that man happy 
 f who depends upon any thing that is liable to 
 '' change and decay, but on himself, and on God. 
 f' This only is firm and stable." (lb. p. 624.) 
 
 There 
 
44 CJT THE PiEiLoscyriiy 
 
 There was a gicat dcj^rcc of aiistenty in the dis- 
 cipline, and p^enera] maxims of the Pjthagoreans, 
 vvhicli forljade all unncccssar\' £.;n 'ifications. Vv'ith 
 respect to theeommerre of the sexes, OeelKis Lu- 
 canus, (Ch. 4. Gale's Op. Myth. 531.) says, *' God 
 " gave pioper instruments, and appetites, to men 
 ** not forthe sake of pleasure, but for the propagation 
 "of the species. Iftherebeany commerce with 
 " women with any other view, the offspring will be 
 *' the banc of society. They will be ^\icked and 
 " miserable, hateful to God, to demons, and to 
 *' men, and also to families and states. For this 
 *' reason," he adds, " laws were made in Greece 
 *' that men should have no commerce with their 
 " own mothers, daughters, or sisters, nor in any 
 *' sacred place, or in public." He also says that 
 " all commerce eontrar\'^ to nature" by which he 
 no doubt meant sodomy, " must be prevented." 
 
 Many of the Sentences of Dcmopliilus breathe 
 such a spirit of devotion, lliat they iire justly sus- 
 pected of a purer source than any heathen pliiloso- 
 phy. On this account I shall quote but few of 
 them. '' Do not ;isk of God what you cannot 
 ** keep ; for no gill of God can be taken from you. 
 <•' He, therefore, will not ^ve what you cannot 
 
 " keep. 
 
OF PYTHA.CORAS. ^S 
 
 ketp No .gift of God is greater llian vir- 
 
 ' tiie A frugal and poor plilosopher lives a 
 
 < life like to that ofGod/and he considers it as the 
 ' greatest wealth, that he possesses nothing exter- 
 
 * nal (tliat is out of his control) nothing unneces- 
 ' sary. For the acquisition of riches inflames co- 
 ' vetousness, but to live well and happily nothing 
 
 'is requisite but to act justly Being born 
 
 ' of Grod, and lia\ing our root in him, ^ve should 
 ' adliere to it. For springs of A^^ater, and the pro- 
 
 * ductions of the earth, dry up, or putrefy, when 
 
 ' cut off from their respective sources 
 
 ' It is impossible that the same person should be 
 ' addicted to pleasure, or the acquisition of riches, 
 ' and be devoted to God. And though he should 
 ' sacrifice hecatombs, he is the more impious, and 
 ' farther removed from religion and God." (Gale's, 
 
 Op. Mydi. p. 620, 625.) 
 
 But what are the best maxim.s, precepts, or e- 
 yen laws, without proper sanctions ? They will be 
 admired, and respected, by those who are previous- 
 ly disposed to observe them ; but on others, which 
 is the tiling principally to be aimed at, they will 
 have no effect whatever ; but may even be ridicul- 
 ed, and openly disregarded. And what are the pro- 
 per aeiKtions of virtue and piety, wbacii evidently 
 
 h^ve 
 
40 or THE PHILOSOPHY, &C. 
 
 not always any rewiird in this life, but that provi- 
 dence of Cod which extends to another, and with 
 this the P} thagoreaji philosophy ^\as not pro* 
 vidcd. 
 
 SOCRATES 
 
47 
 
 SOCRATES AND JESUS 
 COMPARED. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 X HE history of Socrates is so singular a pheno- 
 menon in the heathen world, and his general beha- 
 viour, and the manner of life to which he devoted 
 himself, have in tliem so much that resemble those 
 of the ancient prophets, and e\'en of our Saviour, 
 that they ha-'/e alwaj^s drawn the particular attenti- 
 on of the friends of diA'ine revelation , tliough these 
 have formed very different opinions on the subject. 
 If we look into any account of the Grecian phi- 
 losophers who preceded Socrates* or who followed 
 him (and some of the most eminent of the latter 
 were his professed disciples) we shall find none of 
 them to resemble him, even in the general features 
 of his conduct, though his education as a philoso- 
 pher was in all respects the same with theirs ; and 
 they all fell far short of him with respect to purity o/ 
 moral character. 
 
 If we may depend upon what is transmitted to 
 
4S tOCRATES AK» 
 
 US concerning him by Xenophon and Plato, who 
 were his cotcmporaries and disciples, both men of 
 great eminence, (and there were no writer* in the 
 hcatlien w orld whose characters stand higher than 
 theirs) he was a very extraordinary man ^vith re- 
 spect both to wisdom and \irtiic. And as Socrates 
 had enemies as well as friends, imd his accusers 
 must have had their friends too, had the accounts 
 of Xenophon or Plato not been in the main agreea- 
 ble to truth, it would have been in our power, ^as 
 the age abounded with writers) to perceive some 
 trace of their objections. But nothing of this kind 
 appears. 
 
 From both these accounts we must conclude 4 
 that Socrates was a man who, from early life, not 
 only abstained from vice himself: and practised e- 
 very thing that he thought to be a virtue, but one 
 who devoted himself to tlie promoting of virtue in 
 others ; continually throwing himself in the waV of 
 every person whom hetlioughthe could benefit by 
 his exhortations or instructions ; that by this 
 means a considerable number of young men, espe- 
 cially those of die best families, of much consider- 
 tionand wealdi, intlie city of Athens, were strong- 
 1}^ attached to him ; and yet, that tliough he was 
 
 poor 
 
JESUS COMPARED 49 
 
 poor, and many of them were rich, he never accept- 
 ed of any reward for his instructions. 
 
 In his conduct as a citizen he was most uncor- 
 rupt and fearless, risking his popularity, and even 
 Iiis life, rather than consent to any tiling that ap- 
 peared to him unjust. When he was falsely ac- 
 cused he behaved with the greatest magnanimity at 
 hjs trial, and when sentence of death was passed up- 
 on him he yielded to it with the greatest calmness. 
 He refused to solicit for any abatement of the sen- 
 tence as a favour, and declined all the offers of his 
 friends to assist him in an escape from prison. 
 When the fatal cup was brought to him, he di'ank 
 it with the greatest readiness and composure, and 
 died with much apparent satisfaction. 
 
 The sentiments and principles of such a man as 
 this, who lived in the most polished city of Greece, 
 at u period the most distinguished for every thing 
 that can contribute to fame, in arts, science, or po- 
 licy, and yet the most addicted to idolatry of any 
 city in Greece, certainly deserves to be investiga- 
 ted, and his conduct to be scrutinized ; and this I 
 shall endeavour to do in the best manner that the 
 materials we are furnished with will enable me. 
 
 D. 
 
£0 SOCRATES ANU 
 
 Section I. 
 
 Of the Polytheism and Idolatry of Socrates. 
 
 That Socrates was an idolater, or a x\ orshipjx^r 
 of a multiplicity of Gods, and such as were ac- 
 knowledged by his countrymen, and that he con. 
 formed in all respects to tlic popular modes of wor- 
 ship, cannot be denied. " He sacrificed, says Xe- 
 *' nophon, (p. 2.) both on the public altars of the ci- 
 '* ty, and often at his own house ; and he also prac- 
 ♦* ticed divination intlie most public manner." On 
 trial he said, (p. 377.) " he had never sacrificed 
 " to, or acknowledged, or sworn by, or even made 
 *' mention of, any gods but Jupiter, Juno, and o- 
 *' thers that wqyc received by his fellow citizens. 
 " Do not I believe," says he, (p. 3.) " that the 
 "sun, and the moon, are gods as well as odiers ?" 
 *' Do we not suppose demons" (and one of these he 
 acknowledged to have giAcn particular attention to 
 him) " to be either gods, or the sons of gods, " 
 (p. 21.) And in his last moments, after he had 
 drunk the poison, recollecting a vow that he had 
 made to sacrifice a cockto.i'Esculapius, he desired 
 Crito, a pupil and particular friend of liis, to dis- 
 charge 
 
JESUS COMPARED 51 
 
 charge it for him, and begged that he would not 
 neglect to do it, (p. 186.) Though on one occa- 
 sion he speaks of one God that constructed and pre- 
 serves the world, (p. 318.) he does not say that he 
 was the only God. 
 
 All heathens and idolaters, civilized or uncivili- 
 zed, were addicted to divination , imagining tliat 
 by this means they could pry into futurit}^, and find 
 out what their gods signified by certain signs, as 
 the flight of birds, the form of the livers of the ani- 
 mals tliey sacrificed, and many other things, which 
 are generally considered as accidents. Socrates 
 was so far from seeing the folly of these observan- 
 ces, that he was to an immoderate degree assidu- 
 ous in his attention to them. Being of opinion, 
 (p. 8.) that " the gods signified their will by divina- 
 " tion to those M^hom they were disposed to fa- 
 " vour." Whenever he was in doubt about any 
 thing of importance, he sent some of his friends to 
 consult the oracle (p. 5.) and he advised his friends, 
 if they had occasion for the knowledge of any thing 
 that they could not attain to themselves, to apply to 
 the gods in the modes of divination, (p. 352 ;) Say- 
 ing, that " they who would regulate either their 
 " own affairs, or those of the state, stood in need of 
 " tliese practices." (p. 5.) 
 
 D 2. Besides 
 
52 SOCKATJiS A\D 
 
 Besides ha\ ing Rcoursc to tlie usual modes of 
 divination, Socrates believed tliat, iii)on e\ery oc- 
 casion of importance, the n ill of the gods was signi- 
 fied to himself in particular, but in what manner 
 he does not cleai'ly say. He sometimes calls it a 
 i-n'ice ((I>a;r<) p. 28. At his trial he said he had of- 
 ten been heard to sa}' that a divine voice was fre- 
 quently present Avith liim. 
 
 Notw ithstanding all this evidence of the polythe- 
 istic sentiments, and corresponding practice, of So- 
 crates, Rollin and others suppose him to b^Ac been 
 a believe r in the dhhie unity ^ and to have been sen- 
 sible of the absurdity and folly of all the popular 
 superstitions, and of the popular ^\orship of his 
 country. But I am far from seeing any suffici- 
 ent evidence of this. If he had had the -w eakness, 
 which however is never ascribed to him, to conceal 
 this before his judges, he might have avowed it be- 
 fore his death, bearing a dying and most honoura- 
 ble testimony to important truth; \\hereas, on 
 both these occasions, his language and conduct 
 were the very reverse of ^\ hat, on the supposition 
 of this superior knowledge, they ought to have 
 been. Indeed I much question whedier any per- 
 son educated aj, Socrates A\as, among pol}Uieists 
 
 imd 
 
JES-trs COMPARED. 5j. 
 
 unci idolaters, could possibly, by the mere light of 
 nature, have attained to a firm belief of the divine u - 
 'nity, though he might in some degi-ee, have been 
 sensible of the folly and absurdity of the prevailing 
 superstitions. 
 
 Section II. 
 
 I'he Sentiments of Socrates concerning the Gods, 
 and their Pvffvidence. 
 
 A polytheist and idolater as Socrates was, he had 
 just and honourable sentiments concepii^S the di- 
 vine power and providence, and of the obedience 
 that men owe to the gods. And though his ideas 
 on these subjects are far short of what ^ve find in 
 the Psalms of David, and the writings of the He- 
 brew prophets, the}' are much more rational and 
 sublime than the opinions of the heathens in gene- 
 ral, or those of the philosophers that followed him. 
 
 We have seen that Socrates ascribed to a god 
 the formation and government of the ^vorid, where- 
 as, according to Hesiod (^hose iheogony was, no 
 doubt, that which was generally received by the 
 Greeks) the world had been from^ eternity, and the 
 origin of the gods was subsequent to it. Socrates 
 JD 3. point 
 
54 SOCRATES AND 
 
 points out in particular the wisdom and goodness 
 of providence in the disposition of the different sen- 
 ses andtlie several paits of the human body, as 
 that of the eyes, the eye-lashes, and eye-lids ; and 
 in the structure of the teeth, A\hich in tlie different 
 animals are shaped and situated in the most conve- 
 nient manner, the best adapted to their resix;ctive 
 uses (p. 62.) He had, no doubt, the same opinion of 
 the wisdom and goodness displayed in the structure 
 and disposition ofever}^ tiling else in nature. 
 
 He, moreover, believed that the gods know eve- 
 ry thing that is not only said or done, but that is 
 even thought and intended, though ever so private- 
 ly ; being present in all palaces ; so that, whenever 
 they think proper, they can give intimations to man 
 of every thing relating to them, (p. 14.). *' The 
 " deity" (T<3 5--/ov)hesays, (p. 65.) " sees and hears 
 " all things, is every where present, and takes care 
 *' of all tilings." And he makes this obvious and 
 practical use of tlie doctrine, viz. that "if men be- 
 *' lieved it, they would abstxiin from all base acti- 
 *' ons even in pri\^ate, persuaded tliat nothing that 
 *' they did was unkno\\'n to the gods." (p. 70.) 
 
 The gods, he also thought, know ever}' thing 
 that is future, though they conceal the knowledge 
 of those things fi om men in general ; so tliat, 
 
 *' though 
 
JESUS COMTARED. SB 
 
 " though a man built a house, he could not be ecr- 
 " tain that he should inhabit it, nor could a general 
 *' be sure whether it would be proper for him to 
 " march his army, &c." (p. 6.) Agreeably to this, 
 it was his custom, in his prayer to the godb, to re- 
 quest that they would grant him Avhat \vas good, 
 without specifying what he wished for ; since they 
 best knew what was so. (p. 45.) Like the hea- 
 thens in general, he considered lightning as com 
 ing more immediately from the gods, as one mode 
 of giving intimations to men. (p. 312.) 
 
 According to Socrates, it is tlie gods that have 
 made the distinction between men and the inferior 
 animals, having given them rational souls, so that 
 they only know that there are gods, and can wor. 
 ship them. *' There is no such principle and ex- 
 *' cellent quality," he said " in the brutes ; and in 
 " consequence of this superiority, men are like 
 *' gods with respect to other animals," (p. 66.) 
 
 Speaking of the goodness of the gods to man, he 
 says, (p. 306.) *' they supply us not only with ne- 
 " cessaries, but with things that are adapted to give 
 " us pleasuae." He mentions particularly as their 
 gifts, water and fire, the grateful and useful change 
 9f the seasons, and our various senses, adapted to 
 D 4. peculiar 
 
56 SOCRATEo ANB 
 
 peculiar species of good. "This," he says, (p. 310.) 
 " shews their concern for us." 
 
 Socrates eoasidered all unwritten laws, obligato- 
 rv on man in society, the origin of which cannot be 
 traced, as having the gods for their authors. A- 
 mong these he mentions the universal maxim, that 
 the gods ought to be worshipped, (p. 327.) that 
 gratitude is due to benefactors, that parents ought 
 not to have sexual commerce \\ ith their children, ' 
 and all other universally acknowledged principles 
 of morality. 
 
 In answer to the objection from our not seeing 
 the gods, he mentions several things in nature, the 
 existence and po\vers of which cannot be denied, 
 and which are invisible or inscrutable by us, as 
 lightning, the wind, and the intellectual powers of 
 man; " Thus," says he, (p. 313.) " when we see 
 *' the powers of ihe gods, we must reverence tlicm, 
 *' though we do not see them." 
 
 Nothing can exceed the respect that Socrates en- 
 tertained for the authority and will of the gods, 
 whenever, and in ^vhatever manner, it w as made 
 known. " If," says he, (p. 51.) " the gods signi- 
 *' fy their will, wc must no more depart from it, 
 " and take other counsel, thmi wc should prefer tlie 
 "conduct of a blind man, who did not know die 
 
 *' road, 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 57 
 
 ** road, to that of one who saw it and knew it ; al- 
 ** ways prefering the direction of the gods, to that 
 ** of men.'* 
 
 Agreeable to this, when he was addressing his 
 judges, he said, (p. 40.) that "ifthey would acquit 
 *' him on condition that he would discontinue his 
 " instructions to young persons, \A'hich he bcliev- 
 " edthe gods had enjoined him, or suffer death, he 
 " would answer that he must obey god rather than 
 " man ; and that if they should bani'sh him to an}'- 
 *' other countiy, he should think it his duty, to do 
 ** there what he had done at Athens." (p. 40.) 
 *' Whatever be the situation in which a man is piac- 
 " ed, there, he said, he should remain at an}- risk, 
 " even of life, (p. 23.) dreading baseness more 
 " than any thing else. So the gods having, as, I 
 ** believe, placed me where I have been, and order- 
 ** edme to remain philosophizing, and scrutuil zing 
 " myself and others, I must not desert that station, 
 " for fear of death, or any thing eke. " 
 
 When Aristodemus, with whom he was dis- 
 coursing on this subject, said that he did not deny 
 tliat that there were gods, but he thought the}^ were 
 too great to stand in need of his worship, Socrates 
 replied, (p. 64.) that the greater tliey were, the more 
 they were to be honoured. 
 
 D 5. As 
 
58 SOCRATES AND 
 
 As to tlic manner in which the gods were to be 
 honoured, he, like other hcatlicns, thought it Avas to 
 be determined by the laws of ever}- particular coun- 
 try. But he justly thought that the satisfaction 
 the gods received from these markr, of respect did 
 not depend upon the costliness of the sacrifice. 
 " The oifering of a poor man," he said, (p. 49.) 
 ** is as acceptable to the gods, as the more expen- 
 ** sive ones of the rich.'* 
 
 Section III. 
 Of the excellent moral Character of Socrates. 
 
 These, it cannot be denied, are excellent senti- 
 ments, and much to be admired, considering the 
 little light that Socrates had, \iz. that of nature 
 only, uninstructcd by any revalation. And with 
 him these sentiments were not merely speculative. 
 His whole life seems to have been strictly conform- 
 able to them, being eminently virtuous, and whol- 
 ly devoted to the service of his fellow citizens. 
 
 Xenophon, who knew him well (diough, hav- 
 ing been his pupil, we may suppose him to ha\e 
 been prejudiced in liis favour) gives tlie following 
 general account of his character and conduct, (p. 
 
 359.) 
 
JESUS COMPARFD. 59 
 
 359.) " He was so religious that he did nothing 
 " without the advice of the gods. He was so 
 *'just, that he never injured any person in the 
 ** smallest matter, but rendered every service in 
 ** his power to those with whom he had any con- 
 *' nection. He was so temperate that he never 
 " preferred what was grateful to what was useful. 
 *' He was so prudent, that he never mistook the 
 " the worse for the better ; nor did he want the 
 " advice of others, but always judged for himself. 
 *' In his conversation, he excelled in defining what 
 *' was right, and in shewing it to otliers, reprov- 
 *' ing the vicious, and exhorting to the practice 
 ** of virtue." 
 
 'riiough the circumstances of Socrates were the 
 reverse of affluent, he would never receive any 
 gratuity for the lessons that he gave, as all other 
 philosophers and public teachers did ; and by this 
 means, as he said, (p. 74.) he preserved his free- 
 dom and independence. When upon his trial he 
 was urged by his friends to supplicate the judges, 
 as was tlie universal custom, in order to move their 
 compassion, he refused to ask any favour even of 
 them ; being of opinion that this was contrary to 
 the laws^ according to a^ hich, and not according 
 tofavour, judges ought to decide, (p. 317.) 
 
 In 
 
60 SOCRATES AND 
 
 In all the changxis in the political state of the tur- 
 bulent city of Athens, which were many in the 
 time of Socrates, he adhered inflexibly to what he 
 thought to be just, \\idiout being influenced by 
 hope or fear. This was particularly conspicuous 
 on two occasions. The fii-st was v. hen, being one 
 of the judges in the case of the ten generals who 
 wei'e ti'icd for tlieir li^ es on account of tlieir not col- 
 lecting am.! bunting the dead after a naval engage- 
 ment, and all tlie rest (influenced, no doubt, by 
 the popuLu* clamour against tliem) condemned 
 them to di ?, he alone refused to concur in the sen- 
 tence. Soon after the citizens in general, convin- 
 ced of the injustice of the sentence, though after it 
 had been canicd into execution, appro>cd of his 
 conduct. The other w as during the government 
 of the tliirty tyrants, when, though in manifest 
 danger of his life, he refused to appi^ove of their 
 measures ; and he escaped by notliing but their o- 
 verthrow , and the cit}* recovering its liberty-. 
 
 That Socrates at the close of life expressed his 
 satisfaction in his own conduct Cv\nnot be thought 
 extraordinaiT. It was, he observed, (p. 366.) in 
 concurrence widi the general opinion of his coun- 
 trymen, and with a declaiiuion of the oracle at 
 Delphi in his favour. For when it was consulted 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 61 
 
 by Ch?ert'phon, one of his disciples, llic answer 
 was, tliat there \v'as no person iiiorc honorable 
 (sXsvBepoTioov) more just, or more wise * tluu he, 
 (p. 371.) 
 
 He put, however, a veiy modest construction 
 on this oracle ; w hich was that, though he kticw 
 no more than other men, he did not, like them, 
 pretend to know more. (p. 9. 12.) so that he only 
 knew himself, and his own ignorance, better than 
 other men. His reputation in consequence of it, 
 and of his conduct in general, had no other dian 
 tlic happiest influence upon him. For, address- 
 ing his judges (p. 34.) he observed, that "itbe- 
 ^' ing a generally received opinion, that he was wi- 
 " ser than other men," he said that " whether diat 
 *' opinion \vas well founded or not, he thought he 
 " ought not to demean himself by any unworthy 
 " action." 
 
 Notwithstanding Socrates's consciousness of in- 
 tegrity, and genemi merit, and the good opinion 
 of the wise and virtuous, he was so sensible of the 
 
 malice 
 
 * In Xenophon the response of t/ic oracle Is ex- 
 pressed by cra;(ppo!/cfT£p(^, but Plato always uses 
 the ivord <ro(pooli()(^. Cicero in referring- to it us- 
 es the word sapientissimus. 
 
62 SOCRATES AKD 
 
 malice of his enemies, that when he was brought 
 before his judges he had no expectation of being 
 acquitted, and therefore he expressed his surprize 
 when he found that he A\-as condemned by a majo- 
 ritj'ofno more than three votes, (p. 56.) out of 
 
 500.* 
 
 It being customar}- at Athens, when any person 
 was found guilty of the charge brought against him, 
 to require him to say what, in his omti opinion, 
 his punishment should be ; and this question be- 
 ing proposed to Socrates, conscious as he was of 
 no demerit, but on the contrary- of his valuable 
 services to his countr}- ; he said that, since he had 
 made no gain by his profession of public instruc- 
 tor, had never held any lucrative office in the state, 
 and he ^-as poor, he wsis, like other persons in a 
 similar situation, and with similar claims, enti- 
 tled to a maintenance at the public expense in die 
 Pr}-taneum, (p. 37.) If they destroyed him, he 
 farther said, they A\ouki not soon find another like 
 
 him, (p. 27.) This has the appearance of \-anity 
 and ostentation. But if the praising a man's self 
 be at all justifiable, it is on such an occasion as 
 
 this, 
 
 * Thisy exclusive of the presidatty RoUin suppo- 
 ses to haroe been the number of the judges* 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 63 
 
 this, when he is unjustly censured and condemn- 
 ed by odiers. 
 
 Section IV. 
 
 T/ie Imperfection of Socrates''s Ideas concerning 
 Piety, and Virtue in general. 
 
 Just and sublime as A\'ere the sentiments that 
 Socrates professed concerning the power and pro- 
 vidence of the gods, and of the obHgation that men 
 are under to reverence and worsliip them, his ideas 
 of the manner in which this was to be done were 
 by no means such as might have been expected in 
 consequence of them. According to him, all the 
 duties tliat properly rank under the head of piety 
 are the obseiTance of the religious rites of the 
 countries in which men live. " The gods, he,; 
 " says, (p. 338.) are not to be honoured by every 
 " man as he pleases, but as the laws direct." 
 This was agreeable to the answer received from 
 Delphi, when inquiiy was made concerning the 
 manner in which men should please the gods ; for 
 the answer returned was, " by compl\ ing with die 
 <* institutions of our countr)-," (p. 313.) After 
 mentioning this, Socrates added, that *'all states 
 
 had 
 
64 SOCRATES AND 
 
 " had decreed that the *' gods are to be placated 
 *' by sacrifices, according to tlie faculties of each 
 " of them." (p. 314.) 
 
 Now, A\ hat the rites of the heathen religion were, 
 those of Athens by no means excepted, is well 
 known. Little did they accord AN'ith any just sen- 
 timents of what we now deem to he piety ^ i. e. a 
 reverence for the perfections and pro^•idence of God, 
 gi-cititiide for his favours, submission to his w ill, in 
 a sti-ict obedience to the moral precepts he has en- 
 joined, and confidence in his protection and favour 
 in consequence of it. With these sentiments sa- 
 crifices, and the other rites of tlie heathen religi- 
 ons, had no connection whate^'cr. Radier, they 
 were the occasion, and provocatives, of licenti- 
 ousness, and lewdness, as must have been well 
 known to Socrates himself. 
 
 The moraj maxims of Socrates, independent 
 of those relatmg to religion, are admirable, e- 
 specially his saying, (p. 83.) that *■' there is no 
 "better way to true glor)^ than to endeavour to 
 " be good rather than seem to be so." But his 
 general rule conceniing the nature of justice, in 
 which he probably included virtue in general, was 
 that, " whatever is hnvful," or agreeable to the 
 laws, "is just," (p. 321. 326.) whereas, nothing 
 
 can 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 65 
 
 call be more vaiiable than tlie laws of particular 
 states, or more discordant with one another. 
 
 With respect to the subjects of religion and mor- 
 als in general, Socrates always professed a gieater 
 regard to the laws than reason or good sense will 
 ustify, though he might be induced to say more 
 on this subject in consequence of his being accus- 
 ed of being no friend to the popular religion, and 
 of corrupting youth by attaching them to himself, 
 to the neglect of their parents and others. And it 
 is very possible that, in some of his instructions lie 
 had inculcated duties of a purer and higher kind 
 than the institutions of his country would encou- 
 rage or authorize. Such, however, might be ex- 
 pected from thesentimrntshe generally expressed. 
 
 Considering the uTCtched philosophy of the So- 
 phists, whose ostentation, and absurdities, Socrates 
 exposed, we shall not wonder at the advice he gave 
 his hearers with respect to tiie principal object of 
 their pretended science. He recommended to them 
 the study of Geography, Astronomy, and the scien- 
 ces in general, only so far as they were of practi- 
 cal use in hfe, (p. 350,) but he particularly dissuad- 
 ed them from the study of tJie structure of the uni- 
 'oerse, because, he said, " it was not designed to be 
 E. *' discovered 
 
Co SOCRATES AND 
 
 *' dibCovcTcd by man, nor could it be agjccable to 
 *' the gods to Iiavc th:!t inf|uircd into which they 
 " did not make kno\\n to man." For nothin<^ 
 could be more presumptuous than tlie manner in 
 which tliose Sophists, and the philosophers of those 
 times in general, decided concerning this great 
 subject ; and u ith them it led to nothing; of unv 
 real value with respect to men's conduct, but puff- 
 ed them up with conceit, without any foundation 
 of reul kno\\ ledge. On this account he h siikl by 
 Seiicra to have reduced all philosophy to morals. 
 Totamphilosophiamrc'Doca'ou ad mores y Epist. 71. 
 
 But could Socrates have seen the progress that a 
 tiuer philosophy than any that existed in his time 
 has now made, and how directly it leads to the most 
 profou'.d adnii ration of the works and providence 
 of God, unfold.ng the wisdom, power, and good- 
 ness of the great creator; and had he seen the con- 
 nection which this reverence for God, and conse- 
 quently for his laws, has (on the system of rcvela- 
 tion) with moral virtue, he would have been the 
 first to lay stiess upon it, and to inculcate it upon 
 his pupils. 
 
 As the laws of his country, w hich widi Socrates 
 Were too much the standard of right, widi respect 
 
 both 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 67 
 
 both to religion and morals, were vei-}- impeifecton 
 many stibjects, we do not wonder that he did not 
 express a sufficient indignation (such as tliose do 
 
 who are acquainted M'ith the purer and more severe 
 precepts of revealed religion relating to them) at 
 some particular vices, especially sodomy, which 
 the laws of God by Moses justly punished with 
 death. 
 
 Wlien Critias, then his pupil, was in love with 
 Euthydemus, and avowedly, as it should seem, for 
 the vilest purpose, lie dissuaded him from pursuing 
 his object ; but only as a thing that ^^-as illiberal, 
 unbecoming a man of honour and delicacy. " It 
 " was" he said " begging of the object of his pas- 
 " sion like a pauper, and for a tiling that would do 
 " him no good," (p. 29.) The gratification of this 
 passion he said, resembled a hog rubbing himself 
 against a stone, (p. 30.) This, no doubt, shews a 
 contempt for this vice, but no sufficient abhorrence of 
 it, as such a degradation of human nature ought to 
 excite. When another of his pupils gave a kiss 
 to a son of Alcibiades, who was veiy beautiful, he 
 only a^ked whether it did not require great bold- 
 ness to do it; meaning that, after this, it would not 
 be easy to refrain from endeavouring to take great- 
 E2. er 
 
fj8 SOCRATES AN'D 
 
 cr liijcrtics w ith him. There is too miith of picas- 
 ajitr}', and too little of seriousness, in this mctliod 
 ofeonsidering the subject. 
 
 A similar remark may be made on the interview 
 that Socrates had with a celebrated courtesan of the 
 name of Tiicocjota, whom he liad the curiosit}- to 
 visit on account of what he had hciird of her extra- 
 ordiiiiuy beauty and elegant form, so that statuaries 
 applied lo Ik r to take models from her; and to 
 vhom tlie historian says she exhibited her person 
 as much as decency wotild permit. In this situa- 
 tion Socrates and his pupils found lier ; but in the 
 conversation that he had w hli her he discovered no 
 just sense of the impropriety of her lifc and profes- 
 sion. Slic spake to him of her galants as her friends, 
 who contributed to her support w ithout labonr,^ 
 and Iioped that by his recommendation she should 
 procure more ; adding, " How shall I persuade 
 *' you to this." He replies, " This } oil must find 
 *' oiU yourself, and consider in ^\ hat way it may be 
 •' in my po>ver lo be of use to you." And when- 
 she dcsiird him to come often to sec her, he only 
 jestingly said^ that lie was not sufficiently at leisure 
 from other engagements, (p. 251.) Ready as So- 
 crates was to give ^ood ad>ice to young men, he 
 
 said 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 69 
 
 said nothing to her to recommend a more viitKous 
 and reputable course of life than that which he 
 knevV she led. 
 
 It was not in this manner that Jesus and his a- 
 postles would have conversed witli such a person. 
 He did not decUne all intercourse with women oi 
 her character, but it was not at their houses ; and 
 what he said was intended to instruct and reclaim 
 them. He considered tliem ds the sick, iuid him- 
 self as tlie physician. 
 
 Women of the profession of this Theodota, if they 
 had been M^ell educated, were resorted to in the 
 most open manner by men of the first character at 
 Athens, as Aspasia by Socrates himself, and by 
 Pericles, who afterwards mamed her. Nor Avas 
 fornication in general, with women of that profes- 
 sion, at all disreputable, either in Greece, or at 
 Rome. 
 
 How miich more pure are the morals of Christi- 
 anity in this respect. So great, however, was the 
 prevalence of this vice, and so little had it been con- 
 sidered as one, in the heathen world, that the apos- 
 tle Paul, waiting to the christian churches \\\ 
 Greece, and especially at Corinth, the richest and 
 most voluptuous city in that part of the world, 
 is urgent to dissuade his converts from it. See 
 E 3. i particu- 
 
70 SOCRATES AND 
 
 t 
 
 particularly (1. Cor. vi. 9. ^c.) where amongr 
 those who would, be excluded from the king^Jom 
 of hc-ivcn, lie mentions fornicators in chf first place. 
 Knoll) ye not^ that the unrighteous shall not inherit 
 the kingdom of God. Be not decei'ved; neitlier for- 
 nicators^ nor idolaters^ nor adulterers^ nor effemi- 
 nate^ nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor 
 thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards y nor revilers, 
 nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of 
 God. 
 
 Section V. 
 
 Of Socrates'* s Belief in a future State. 
 
 Though Socrates had more just idea? concerning 
 tlie nature and character of deity, and also of the 
 nature and obligations of virtue, than tlie generali- 
 ty of his countrymen, and even of the pliilosophers, 
 he docs not appear to ha\ c had any more know- 
 ledge than others concerning the great sanction of 
 virtue, in the doctrine of a future state. In none of 
 his conversations recorded by Xcnophon oa the 
 subject of virtue with young men and others, is 
 there the least mention of it, or allusion to it; 
 which was certainly unavoidable if he had been real- 
 ly acquainted with it, imd believed it. 
 
 Speak- 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 71 
 
 Speaking of tlie happiness of his virtuous pu- 
 pils, he mentions the pleasure the\^ would have in 
 this life, and the respect that would be paid to them; 
 and says that, " when they died tlicy would not be 
 *' without honour, consigned to oblivion, but 
 "would be for ever celebrated, (p. 111.") Hav- 
 ing said tliis, could he have forborne to add their 
 happier condition after death, if he had had any he 
 lief of it? 
 
 All his dissuasives from vice are grounded on 
 some na,tural and necessary inconvenience to which 
 men expose themselves by it in this life, but none 
 of them have any respect to another. Thus he re- 
 presents intemperate persons ^s slaves to their ap- 
 petites, (p, 322.) and treating of w hat lie consider- 
 ed as being the laws of nature, and therefore as 
 those of the gods, as the prohibition of marriage be- 
 tween parents an(^ their children, (p. 828.) he only 
 says that " the offspring of such a mixture is bad; 
 *' one of the parties being too old to produce 
 " healthy children ;" and this reason does not ap- 
 ply to the case of brothers and sisters. Another 
 law of nature, he says, is to do good in return for 
 good received *, but the penalty of not doing it he 
 makes to be nothing more than being deserted by a 
 E 4. mm\'^ 
 
72- SOCRATES AND 
 
 man's friends when he w ill have the most want of 
 them, and to be forced to appl}' to tliose who have 
 no friendship for him. {p. 329.) 
 
 It is particularly remarkable that notliing th:it 
 Xenophon says as coming from Socrates, not only 
 in his conversations witli his pupils, but even at 
 his ti-ial, and the scenes before his death, implies a 
 belief of a future state. All tliat we have of this 
 kind is from Plato ; and though he was present at 
 the trial, and therefore what he says is, no doubt, 
 entitled to a considerable degree of credit, it wants 
 the attestation of anot/i^r witness ; and the want o^ 
 that of Xenophon is something more than nega- 
 tive; especiall}- as it is well known that Plato did 
 not scruple to put into the mouth of Socrates lan- 
 guage and sentiments that ne\er fell from him i as 
 it is said Socrates himself observed, w hen he was 
 shewn the dialogue entitled Lysis^ m ^^•hich lie is 
 the principal speaker, as he is in many others. 
 
 In Plato's celebrated dialogue intiiled Phosdo, in 
 which he makes Socrates advance arguments in 
 proof of a future state, wc w.mi tlie evidience of 
 some person who ^\•as present ; for Plato himself 
 was at that time confined by sickness, (P. p. 74.) 
 so tliat it is ver}- possible, as nodiing is siiid of it by 
 
 Xeno. 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 73 
 
 Xenophon, that he might not have held any dis- 
 course on the subject at all. 
 
 Besides, all that Socrates is represented by Plata 
 to have said on this subject is far from amounting 
 to any thing like certain knowledge, and real bdief^ 
 with respect to it, such as appears in the discourses 
 of Jesus, and the writings of the apostles. Socra- 
 tes, according to Plato, generally speaks of a future 
 state, and the condition of men in it, as ihi^ popular 
 belief, wliich might be true or false. " If" says 
 he (p. 46) " what is said be true, we shall in ano- 
 *' ther state die no more. In deatii " he says to 
 " his judges*' (p. 44.) " we either lose all sense of 
 *' things, or, as it is said, go iuto soilie other place ; 
 ** and if so, it will be much better ; as we shall be 
 *' out of the power of partial judges, and come be- 
 *' fore those that are impartial. Minos, Rhada- 
 *' manthus, ^acus, Triptolemus, and others, who 
 ** were demigods." Taking his leave; of them, he 
 " says, 1 must now depart to die, while you conti- 
 ^' nue in life ; but which of these is better, the gods 
 '* only can tell ; for ill my opinion no man can 
 *' know this." 
 
 This certainly implies no faith on which to 
 
 gi-ouhd real practice, from which a man could, 
 
 with the apostle, line as seeing things invisible ^ be- 
 
 E 5. ing 
 
74 SOCRATES AN'D 
 
 ing governed by a regaixl to thcin more than to 
 things present, jhe one as ccrtuin as the other, and 
 infinitel}- superior in vahie, t/ic things that are seen 
 hcin^ temporary^ luh'iU those t hit arc unseen arc e- 
 ternal. {2. Cor. iv. 10.) 
 
 Notwithstanding tliis uncertainty of Socrates 
 >\ith respect to a future state, he died \\ ith great 
 composure and dignity ; considering liis death at 
 tliat time as, on the whole, better for him than to 
 live any longer in the circumstances in which, at 
 his time of life (being seventy years old) he must 
 have lived ; especially as a coward, discovering un- 
 TJianly dread of death, in exile and disgrace ; dy- 
 ing also without torture, surroundedby his friends, 
 and admirers, who would ensure his fame to the 
 latest posterity. 
 
 That such arguments in proofof a future state as 
 Plato puts into the mouth of Socrates should really 
 have been advanced, and have have any stress laid 
 upon them, by him, in so serious a time as just be- 
 fore his death, is exceedingly improbable, from the 
 extreme futility of them. They arc more like the 
 mere play of imagination, Uian die deductions of 
 reason. 
 
 His first argument is, that as every thing else in 
 nature has its contrary, death must have it also, 
 
 iyid 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 75 
 
 and If so, it must be followed by life, as da}- follows 
 night, and a state of mgiiaiice alwaj^s follows sleep. 
 (p. 56.)- Bat might it not be said that, for the 
 same reason, every thing that is bitter must some 
 time or other become sweet, and eveiy thing that is 
 sweet become bitter ? 
 
 His second argument is, that all our present ac- 
 quired knowledge is only the recollection of what 
 we knew before in a former state, (p. 100.) But 
 what evidence is tliere of this ? 
 
 His third argument is, that only compound sub- 
 stances are liable to corruption, by a separation of 
 the parts of which they consist ; but the mind is a 
 simple substance, and therefore cannot be affected 
 by the dissolution of the body in death, (p. 111.) 
 This is certainly the most plausible aigument of 
 the three, but it is of too subtle a nature to give 
 much satisfaction. If the mind have several pow- 
 ers and affections, and be furnished with 4 multi- 
 plicity of ideas, there is the same evidence of its be- 
 ing a compound as there is withrespect to the body; 
 and if the power of thinking, or mental action, bear 
 any resemblance to corporeal motion, it may cease, 
 and be suspended, though the substance remain. 
 
 Are these sufficient arguments for a man at the 
 
 point 
 
76 SOCRATES AND 
 
 point of death to build his faith and hope upon? 
 As this appears to ha\-c been all that the most sa- 
 gacious of the heatlicns could attain to by the light 
 of nature, what reason have \vc to tx- thankful for 
 the superior light of revelation, and csjjccially for 
 the gospel, \vhich i^nrigs life and immortality to 
 light. (2. Tim. i. 10.) 
 
 Socrates does not, in this celebrated dialogue, 
 make any mention of the argument from the um- 
 'Dcrsal belief o{ a future state, as handed do\\n by 
 tradition in all nations ; \vhich, though far short of 
 a proper proof of the docUinc, is more pluusiblc 
 tlian any of the three arguments above mentioned. 
 For it might be presumed tliat the ancestors of the 
 human race, from whom the tradition descended 
 to their posterity, had some proper evidence of 
 T-liat they delivered, though that had not been pre- 
 served, the doctrine itself only being retained. 
 This, indeed, seems to have been the case with re- 
 spect to the Jews. Though tliey \\ere in the time 
 of our Saviour firm believers in the doctrin<L> of a 
 resurrection, tlx: record of the revelation (for it 
 could not have come from any other source) had 
 been long lost. 
 
 How far short is every thing that Socrates is re- 
 presented as saying of the perfect assurance with 
 
 vliich 
 
JESUS COMI^AE^ED 77 
 
 Ivhich Jesiis always spoke of his resmrection to an 
 immortal life, and of the glory that was prepared 
 for him in the councils of God from tlie foundation 
 of the world; when, as the writer of the epistle to 
 the Hebrews says (-c. xii. 20.) foj- the joy. that was 
 set before him, lie endured the cross, despising the 
 shame, and is set down at the right hartd of the 
 throne of God. Ho\y short it (Idls of the confidence 
 which the apostle Paul, in the near view of deatli, 
 expresses with ^-espect to his future prospects, (2. 
 Tim . iv. 7. ) / haije fought the good fight, I have 
 finished my course, I ha'oe kept the faith. Hence- 
 forth; there is laid up for me a crown of righteous- 
 7iess, which the Lord, the righteous judge, "(Jbill 
 give me at that day ; and not to me only, hut to all 
 them that love fiis appearing. With ■\\'hat satisfac- 
 tion and joy have thousands of christian martyrs 
 relinquished this life in the assurance of a better. 
 
 Besides, after all that Socrates advances in proof 
 of a future state, he seems to make it the peculiar 
 privilege of those who apply to philosophy, who 
 havein some degree abstraic ted the purer mind from 
 the gross body by intense meditation, (p. 83.) 
 " This," he saysy (p. 94.) " was intended by the 
 " authors of the mysteries when they said that non^ 
 *^ besides the initiated wqmW live with the gods af- 
 
 ^*te» 
 
to S-0 C il A T E S A X D 
 
 '* tcr dcaili ; for that by tlie initiated were meant 
 •' those >\1k) philosophized in a ri<rht manner (of>Bus) 
 *' and that whether he had succeeded or not, it had 
 *' been his endeavour through life to do so." 
 
 According to tliis, the gnat mass of mankind 
 have no more interest in a future state dian brute 
 animals. But the gospel makes no diiference in 
 favour of philosophers, or any odier class of men. 
 According to this, all that are in the grai^es slicdl 
 Jiear the 'voice of the son of man, (John. v. 28.) am. 
 shall come forth. ; they t/iat ha'dc done good to the 
 resurrection of life ^ and they that have done evil to 
 the resurrection of condemnation. Then too (Rev. 
 XX. \S.) the sea shall give up t/ie dead that is in />, 
 and every man shall be judged according to hi.? 
 ivorks. 
 
 Sectiox VI. 
 
 Of the D^mon of Socrates. 
 
 Much has been advanced on the subject of the 
 damon, as it is commonly called, of Socrates, or 
 that divine voice , as he termed it, which gave him 
 ^vamings about what he was about to do, if it Mas 
 
 impro- 
 
JE:^ir3 COMPARED. 79 
 
 improper for him, and which was e\ IJently some- 
 thh^ different from dmnatlan., to which he often 
 liad recourse, or from any casual cfnien that might 
 occur to him. This he said had accompanied him 
 from his youth ; but though it forbad him to do 
 certain tilings that he was deliberating about, it had 
 never prompted him to any particular action, fib. J 
 This divine voice did not respect his own conduct 
 only, but sometimes that of others ; and he declar- 
 ed that whenever he had, from this ^^'arning, signi- 
 fied tire will of the gods to any of his friends, he 
 had never been deceived by it. (p. 370.) 
 
 Speaking of his general manner of life, and plaii 
 of conduct, in devoting his time and talents to the 
 instruction of others, he said, (p. ^2.) it had been 
 enjoined him " by the gods, by oracles, by the 
 <■<■ god" (probably meaning that paiticuUir deity 
 from whom he had the hints alcove mentioned) " by 
 *' dreams, and every other node in whicJi, by dl- 
 " vination, they order things to be done." This 
 was said by him in his address to his judges ; and 
 he added that, though the deity had checked him 
 in the smallest things tliat he was about to do, if 
 they were improper (p. 44.) yet that when he was 
 thinking of his defence, the deity had thus forbidden 
 
 him. 
 
80 SOCRATES A.VD 
 
 him to make aiiy, and this not only once, but 
 twice, (p. 365.) nor, while he was then speaking 
 did he perceive any check with respect to any part 
 of his conduct, (p. 44.) He therefore concluded 
 that, since this divine voice liad not interfered on 
 this occasion, it was best for him to await the sen- 
 tence of his judges, though they should condemn 
 him to death. " The situation I am now in," he 
 said, "did not come to me by chance; for no- 
 " thing can happen amiss to a good man \\ith rc- 
 *' spect to life or deatli; since the gods never ne- 
 *' gleet him. It is, therefore, better for me to die 
 *' now, and to be exempt from all fartlier labours," 
 (p. 47.) 
 
 These intimations, in whatever manner tliey were 
 communicated, are now, I believe, generally 
 thought to haxebeen a mere illusion y when notliing 
 really supernatural took place. Had these sugges- 
 tions occurred only once or twice in the cour^ of 
 his Hfe, the hypothesis of their being an illusion, or 
 jnere imagination, might have been admitted. But 
 they had attended him, he said, from liis youth, an,d 
 had given him hints not only respecting liis own 
 conduch (whicJi by his account had been yer}' fre- 
 quent) but sometimes that of his frieixds; «fnd be- 
 cause he had received no check from thi^ quarter 
 
 with 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 81 
 
 ^vith respect to his conduct at his trial, heconclud" 
 ed with certainty that it was right, and would have 
 the best issue. 
 
 Besides the admonitions of this kind which were 
 communicated while he was awake, he had others 
 he says, given him in dreams. One of these he 
 mentioned just before his death ; which was that 
 he should apply to music. On this he had put va- 
 rious constructions ; and lest he should not have 
 hit upon the true meaning of it, he com.posed w hile 
 he was in prison, a hymn in praise of Apollo, and 
 turned some of the fables of ^Esop into verse, 
 which were always recited in a musical recitative. 
 
 (P- 77.) 
 
 This might have been nothing more tlian a com- 
 mon dream, on w^hich he put an uncommon con- 
 struction, in consequence of imagining tliat there 
 was something supernatural in it. B.ut tliis could 
 not have been the case with respect to the hints that 
 he received when he was a\vake, whether by the 
 fnedium of area! voice, or in any other way. 
 
 In no other respect does Socrates appear to have 
 httn an enthusiast. On the contrary, he was a 
 man of a calm and even temper, not distinguished 
 by any peculiarity of behaviour, or extravagance of 
 any kind. And though he seems to have addres- 
 
 F. sed 
 
82 5/)CRAT£S AyiD 
 
 bed lilinsclf to every person to whom he imagincci 
 that hiii a(l\ ice would he useful, he was never eharg- 
 cd with iKing impertinent, so as to give oft'ence to 
 any. On the contrary, his address was insinuating 
 ynd pleasing; so that his heiu^ers in general were 
 delighted wih his conversation, and this through 
 the course of a long life. 
 
 Since, then, he persisted in his account of these 
 admonitions to the last, and in the most serious sit- 
 I'.ation that a man could l^e in, and his veracity was 
 never qiiv.'st)oned, though I am far fromfoimijng 
 any fixed opinion on a subject of so p^'C'\t obscuri- 
 ty, I thi.'ikit may admit of 3 doubr, whctJicr ^lty 
 r.:a net be supposed to have L.ome, in whatever 
 manner diey were given, from God. I do not see 
 any thing unworthy of the Divine Being in his dis- 
 tinguishing this extraordinary man in diis way. 
 Being no judge of the propriety of the divine con- 
 duct, we must be determined in every case of this 
 kind by die cuidcncc of facts, according to the esta- 
 blished rules of estimating the value of testimony 
 in general. 
 
 These admonitions are said to ha\e been proper 
 
 to the occasions on which they A\'erc delivered ; so 
 
 that leading iogood, if they came from any superi- 
 
 [ or being, it must have been a m ise and benevolent 
 
 one. 
 
Jesus compared 83 
 
 one. They, would, therefore, tend to impress the 
 mind of Socrates, and those of his numerous disci- 
 ples and admirers, with an idea of the existence of a 
 power su|5erior to man, though not in a manner so 
 decisive and convincing as the express re\^elations 
 that w^ere made to the Hebrew prophets* But v/hy 
 it should please God to distinguish any on^ man, 
 or any particular nation, with his peculiar gifts, 
 and in what degree he should do this, is not for us 
 to say. If we see good to result from it, we ought 
 not to cavil or complain, but be satisfied, and thank- 
 ful. 
 
 That in an)' manner whatever, and in what degree 
 soever, it shall appear that the maker of the world 
 gives attention to it, it is a proof of the realit}'^ of a 
 proindence in general, and of the divine interference 
 out of the usual course of the laws of nature. It is 
 therefoi'e a decisive proof of a great and important 
 truth. And if he be not such a god as Epicurus 
 and other philosophers supposed, one who, (whe- 
 ther he had created the world or not) sat a perfectly 
 unconcerned spectator of all that passed in it, but 
 really interested himself in thfe affairs of men by oc- 
 casional kiterpositions, it cannot be doubted but 
 that, from the same principle, he does it at all 
 F 2. ' times,. 
 
S4 SOCRAlta AS» 
 
 times, though in a manner less apparent ; and that 
 his final trcatnKnt of men will be accoicimg to his 
 proper clwraeter, \vhatc\cr that be, if he be a right- 
 eous and good be'mg, he will, no doubt, most ap- 
 prove of virtue and goodness in men, and show it 
 by rcM-aiding the r*fgl>teous and punishing tlic 
 wicked. 
 
 The reason why tie does not do this completely 
 at present, though we are not without some intima- 
 tions of his disposition to do so, it is not dlilicalt to 
 ac e-junt for. The. e must be time and opportunity 
 to Lrm ch:irac*ers. The existence of vice, as well 
 
 as of virtue, in the \vorld is necessary for tliis pu r- 
 pose ; and it is not till a cliaracter be properly form- 
 ed that a suitable trc^ment can be adjusted to it. 
 li our maker think of us at all, it must be for our 
 
 good. 
 
 Thus do such siipcmatiiral suggestions as Soc- 
 rates asserts that he had aftbrd some obscure and 
 indistinct e\'idence of a moral government of tlte 
 vyorid^ and consequently of a future state of righte- 
 ous retribution. Why such intimations were not 
 more frequent, more distinct, or more general, is 
 beyond our compiehension. If we be asked why 
 the ^^ise and beiKvolent auUior of nature painitted 
 the ribc and long continuance of the most absurd 
 
 and 
 
JEStTS COMPAREB. 85 
 
 jand abominable systems of polytheism and idolatry 
 to prevail so long in the world, or why he should 
 suffer so much vice and misery to exist in it at pre- 
 sent; why mankind should be afflicted with war, 
 pestilence, and famine, and be subject to such dis- 
 tressful accidents as lightning, hurricanes, and 
 earthquakes, we can only say with Abraham of old, 
 (Gen. xviii. 25.) that the maker and judge of the 
 earth will do "what is right ; and therefore that all 
 these evils, repugnant as tliey seem to our ideas of 
 benevolence, may hereafter appear to have been the 
 best methods of promoting general and lasting hap- 
 piness, 
 
 <If the present state be considered as nothing 
 Tsxort than the infancy of our being, we may natu- 
 rally expect to be no more fible to account for our 
 treatment in it, than a child is able to account for 
 that of its parent, who, thougli ever so affectionate, 
 must, if he be wise, continually do what the child, 
 cannot see any reason for, and what he must think 
 to be verj^ often exceedingly har^h and unreasona- 
 ble. And as appearances in nature, and in the 
 structure of the world, furnish an unqi^estionable 
 proof of a wise and benevolent author, the present 
 imperfect state of viilue and happiness does, as 
 such, afford some evidcRce that this is the infant 
 F 3. state 
 
66 SOCRATES AND 
 
 stiitc of our being ; and is therefore an argument, 
 and a promise, as ne may say, of future good. And 
 slight as it may be, and less satisfactory than we 
 could wish, it should be highly grateful and ac- 
 ceptable to us. 
 
 Section VII. 
 
 Of Oic Character^ and Tcac/i'ing^ of Socrates com- 
 pared with tJiose of Jesus 
 
 V/Iien we consider what was most obvious in 
 die general disposidon and behaviour of Socrates 
 and of JcjUS, we see no apparent difference with 
 respect to the command of their natural appetites 
 and passions, or their temper in general. Both 
 were equally temperate, though as Jesus Mas not 
 married, an<l was never chaj-ged with incontinence, 
 he shewed a command of his natural passions iii 
 this respect for which there was no occasion in the 
 case of Socrates. Both of these men seem to 
 have lx:en equal)}- free from austerity and morose- 
 ncssin their general behaviour, being equally affa- 
 ble, and no enemies to innocent festivity on proper 
 occaiiiojis. 
 
 They 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 87 
 
 They were both capable of strong personal at- 
 tachments, as Socrates to several of his fiicnds and 
 pupils, and Jesus to the family of Lazarus, tq his 
 apostles in general, and to John in particular. And 
 his discourses and prayer before his death shows 
 his affection for them in the strongest manner. Al- 
 so his attention to his mother, while hung upopL 
 the cross, deserves particular notice in this respect. 
 
 Both of them were the friends of virtue, and la- 
 boured tp promote it; but Jesus expressed strong- 
 er indignation agaii^st vice, especially the vices of 
 die great, and of the leading men of his country, 
 against whose pride, hypccrisy, and injustice, he 
 pronounced the most vehement and provoking in- 
 vectives ; whereas Socrates adopted the gentler me- 
 thod of irony and ridicule, 
 
 Thene was, I doubt not, great propriety, as well 
 as i^igenuity, in the ironical manner that Socrates is 
 said to have very often used, in exposing the vices 
 of particular persons ; and by this means he is said, 
 and with great probability, to have made himself 
 many bitter enemies. But there was certainly 
 more of dignity in the direct and serious invectiveii 
 of Jesus, such as his saying, (Mat^ xxiii. 13. &c,) 
 iVoe tinio you Saibes and pharhecs^ hypocrites, £f r. 
 
 F4. An4 
 
83 SOCRATES AND 
 
 And let it not be forgotten that this was proix>u ne- 
 ed by the son of a caipcnter, of only about Uiirty 
 years of age, and publicly in the temple, where he 
 was alwa} s attended by great multitudes of per- 
 sons of all ranks, and tliat no reply w as ever made 
 to him on these oceasions. He by this conduct 
 made liinistL'as many enemies as Socrates, but it 
 was In a manner that sho\\'ed more courage. 
 
 Both Jesus and Socrates took advantage of pre- 
 sent incidents, as hints for their instructive dis- 
 courses; but diose of Socmtes have the appearance 
 of having been contri\cd before hand, -while those 
 to which Jesus alluded were such as naturally pre- 
 sented themselves at the time. 
 
 What was peculiar to Socrates was his propos- 
 ing to his hearers a series of questions, by means of 
 which he made the conclusions he wished to have 
 drawn seem to be their own ; so tliat all objections 
 were precluded. A great peculiarity in the dis- 
 courses of Jesus, though his manner was ve^^'^'ari- 
 ous, and often authoritatively didactic, which that of 
 Socrates never was, consisted in his numerous /^at- 
 ables^ die meaning of which, when he intended it 
 to be so, was sufficiently obvious, and peculiarly 
 striking ; as in diose of the rich man and Lazarus, 
 of the man who was robbed, and nearly murdered, 
 
 on 
 
\ JESUS COMPARED 69 
 
 oii^his way to Jericho, and the peculiarly fine one 
 of the prodigal son, and therefore more easily re- 
 tained in memory, as well as adapted to make a 
 stronger impression on the mind, than a moral les- 
 son not so introduced and accompanied. 
 
 At other times there was an intended obscurity 
 in the parables and sayings of Jesus. He did not 
 always wish to be understood at the time, but to 
 have what he said to be remembered, and reflected 
 upon afterwards. Such sayings were calculated 
 to engage more attention from their being expres- 
 sed in a concise, figuraj:ive and enigmatical man- 
 ner; as when he said, (John ii. 19.) Destroy this 
 temple and in three days I will raise it up. Such a 
 saying as this would not be forgotten. His ene- 
 mies, we find, remembered it, and his fiiends 
 would understand his meaning in due time ; as 
 they would his saying, (John xii. 31.) If I be lift. 
 ed up from the ^arth I ivill draiv all men unto me ; 
 in which he alluded both to his crucifixion, his re- 
 surrection, and the universal spread of his gospel. 
 
 It is very remarkable that there are not in the 
 most elaborate compositions of the antients or mo- 
 dems any parables so excellent for pertinency to 
 the occasion on which they were delivered, for pro- 
 priety and consistency in their paits, and for inv 
 
 F 5. portant 
 
90 SOCRATES AND 
 
 portant meaning, as tliose of Jesus. Numerous as 
 they are, they all appear to have l)Len unpamedi-' 
 latcd, as th<n' arose from circumstances in which" 
 the speaker had iio clioice. T!iei"e is noli ling trif- 
 ling or absUi d m any of them ; and few others, 
 tlioughtlie reiiidt of much study, are froc from ob- 
 jection of this kind, h .vill not be supposed that 
 the parables ol Je^us received any improvement 
 from the wTiiers of his life, and yet the moie they 
 are studied llic more admii-able tliey iu-e found 
 to be.* 
 
 Both the discourses and the general manner of 
 life of Socrates and Jesus have an obvious resem- 
 blance, as they both went about graciously doing 
 good, according to their several abilities, situations, 
 and opportunities; but we see an infinite superior- 
 ity \\ith respect to Jesus, though he had no such 
 
 adAantiige 
 
 * On this subject of parables, and every thing 
 relating to the internal evidences of Christianity^ I 
 would particularly reconmieJid a most comprehen- 
 sive and excellent work of Mr. J. Simpson's, enti- 
 tled. Internal and prcsumpti'veevideiiccs of Christian- 
 ity considered separately ^ and as united to form one 
 argument i ISOl. 
 
JESUS COMPARER. 91 
 
 advantage of education and instruction as Socrates 
 had. 
 
 Socrates had all the advantage that education, in 
 the most poHshed city of Greece, and the most 
 improved period of it, could give him ; having 
 been enabled by the generosity of a wealthy citizen 
 to attend the lectures of all the celebrated masters 
 of his time, in every branch of science tlien knovi'n: 
 £^d with respect to natural capacity, he was pro- 
 bably equal to Jesus, or any other man. 
 
 On the contrary, the circumstances of the pa- 
 rents of Jesus, and bis low occupation till he appear- 
 ed in public, exclude the supposition of his havinp* 
 had any advantage of liberal education. This, in- 
 deed, was objected to him by his adversaries. (John 
 
 vii. 15.) T/ie jeivs marvelled, sayhigy How hwib- 
 eth this man letters^ hamng never- learned^ that is, 
 how did he acquire so much knowledge, without 
 being regularly instructed by the professed teach- 
 ers of the lavv^ ? 
 
 Notwithstanding this great disadvantage; we 
 find that, without any previous preparation that 
 was visible, Jesus, from his very first appearance, 
 assumed more authority, as a teacher and reprover 
 of vice, tlian any other man before or since ; ad- 
 dressing 
 
9^ SOCRATES AND 
 
 dressing hrmself to great multitudes, ors'iixgle per* 
 sons, the most eminent for their rank er know- 
 ledge, witliout the least embarrassment, '<md with 
 an air of superiority to all men ; and yet witliout 
 the appearance of any tiling impertincai, ostentati- 
 OUb, or insulting. 
 
 Had Socrates introduced any of liis instnictions 
 with Vcr'ily, 'verilyy I say unto yoii^ or any Ian. 
 guagc of a similar import, he would have exposed 
 himself to the ridicule of his audience, even io tlie 
 latest period of his life, when he had acquired the 
 greatest respect and authority. But this language 
 was usual with Jesus from the very first ; as in his 
 discourse on the mount, when, Instead of being in- 
 sulted, he by this very means excited the greater 
 veneration and attachment, for we read, (Matt. 
 \\\. 28. ) // came to pass ivhen Jesus had ended these 
 sayings^ the people were astonished at his doctrine^ 
 for he taught them as one havijig autlwrity^ and not 
 as the scribes. 
 
 How must any other man than Jesus have ex- 
 posed himself to ridicule, if, when sj)eakingof the 
 Ninevites repenting at the preachijig of Jonali, and 
 of the queen of Sheba coming from her own distant 
 countf)- to hear tlie wisdom of Solomon, he had ad- 
 ded, 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 93 
 
 ded, as Jesus did, but a greater than Ji-nahy aiid one 
 greater than Solomon is here, (Matt. xii. 41. &c.) 
 But for any thing that appears he was heard with 
 the greatest awe and respect. Infinitely more aiTo- 
 gant must it liave appeared in any other man to say, 
 as he did, after his resurrection, (Matt, xxviii. 18.) 
 All pcvjer is given unto me in /i€ai}en and in earth. 
 Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations. No man 
 but one who had actually risen from the dead, and 
 who had befc«"e tliis performed such mimcles as 
 convinced his hearers that he had a commission 
 fi'om God, could have used such language as this, 
 and have been heard with acquiescence and respect. 
 To say nothing on the subject of miracles-, to 
 which Socrates did not pretend (btit the truth of 
 which in the case of Jesus can alone account for 
 the air of superior dignity and authority that he 
 constantly assumed, as a messenger from God, and 
 having his authority delegated to him) his discour- 
 ses relate to subjects of infinitely more importance 
 than thos» of Socrates, the great object of them be- 
 ing to inculcate a purer and more sublime morality 
 respecting God and man than any heathen could 
 have a just idea of, and urging his hearers in' all 
 their behaviour in this life to have a principal re- 
 spect to another, which was to commence \vhen he 
 
 liimseif. 
 
94 SOCRATES A^D 
 
 himself, after a painful death, to which he kn6w 
 that he was destined, and his removal from tlic 
 world, should return, invested with power to raise 
 the dead, and to judge the world, when he would 
 give to every man according to his works. 
 
 These are pretensions that no other man besides 
 Jesus ever made ; but with these ideas of his pre- 
 sent power from God, and his future great destina- 
 tion, his conduct, and his hmguage, as a public 
 teacher corresponded; and his hearers, believing 
 this, heard him \\ 1th suitable reverence and respect. 
 
 What otiicr man, to mention but one instance 
 more, would not have exposed himself to ridicule 
 by making such pretensions, and using such lan- 
 giwge, as the following, (John xi. 25.) I am the 
 resurrection and the life. He that believeth in mey 
 though he \\3ere deadly et shall he Ihe. (vi. 40.) This 
 is the ivill of him that sent me^ that e^cery one who 
 seeth the son^ and beUcveth on him, shall have ever^ 
 lasting life ; and I will raise Aim up at the last day. 
 (Matt. XXV. 31.) IFhai the son of man (by which 
 phrase he alw a}s meant himself) shall come in his 
 glory, and all his holy angels with him, then slmll 
 he sit on tlie throne of his glory ; and before him 
 will be gat/iered all natlonsy and he will separate 
 
 them 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 95 
 
 them one from another^ as a shepheyd dmdeth tJic 
 sheep from the goats, ^c. 
 
 The most astonislung proof of extraordinary au- 
 thority assumed and exercised, by Jesus was hisr 
 driving the buyers and sellers out of the outer court 
 of the temple at the time of a public festival, when 
 that use had, of course, been made of it time imme- 
 morial, and Milh the peiTnissIon of the rulers of the 
 nation. This he did with only a whip of small 
 cords to drive out the oxen and other cattle ; ^vhen 
 as we read, (Mai-k xi. 15. He oi^erthrew the ta- 
 bles of the money changers, and the scats of them 
 that sold do'ues ,' saying ; It is ^written, My Jiouse 
 shall he called the house of prayer for all nations, but 
 ye hai}e made it a den of thieues. This was done 
 without opposition, remonstrance, or delay. 
 
 When this was done the scribes and pharisees 
 asked him by what authority he had done it, and 
 ivhoga'ue him that nuthority ; but they declining 
 to answer a qjiestion tliat he put to them, he refus- 
 ed to give them any answer. We do not, I will 
 venture to say, in all history, read of an act of au- 
 thority equal to this by any private person, and a 
 person without any relationsor patrons conspicuous - 
 for wealth or power ; and yet this bold unauthor- 
 ized action was never alleged against him as a breach 
 
 of 
 
9<6 SOCRATES AND 
 
 of the peace, or proiluced against him at his trial. 
 We only read (Mark xi. 18.) that the scribes and 
 chief priests heard it, and sought how they might de- 
 stroy him. For they feared him, because all the 
 people 'lucre astonished at his doctrine. 
 
 But independently of this superior authority \\ ith 
 which Jcsiis always delivered himself, \h.^ st:bjects 
 of his discourses and exhortations were far more 
 serious and Vvxighly than tliose of Socrates. In- 
 deed, some of those that arc recorded by Xcnophon 
 are so exceedingly triillng, that we cannot help 
 wondering that a writer of such judgment and 
 good sense should have thought it \\ orth his while 
 to relate them. Some of those of Jesus are, no 
 doubt, of much less importance dian others ; as 
 w hen he advises persons how to place themselves 
 at table where diere are many guests of different 
 ranks, &:c. and observations and advices of far less 
 import:uice than even this are not unbecoming So- 
 crates, Jesus, or any man in proper circumstances. 
 For U\c gravest chai-acters are not always speaking, 
 as we say, ex cathedra. In the ordinaiy situations 
 of humim life, when nothing very serious is ex- 
 pected, but mere good humour and good sense, 
 even imiocent pleasantry- is well received. 
 
 But 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 9'7 
 
 But the great inferiority in all heathens with re- 
 spect to kfiowledge, especially concerning God, pro* 
 vidence, and a future state, made jt absolutely im^ 
 possible that the moral discourses of Socraites 
 should have the clearness, tlie weight, and impor- 
 tance, of those of Jesus. The comparison of their 
 discourses in this resi^ect shevv's tl-ie great superior- 
 ity of the syateni O'f religious truth that was f^^mJliaje 
 to all Jews, as contained hi their sac;red books, to 
 any thing that was known to the most enlighteued 
 of the heathens, among whom Sacrate:^ shij-i^s \\jith 
 a distinguished piTeminejoce.. 
 
 To resort once more to the eojiduct of Socrates 
 and Jesus. Socrates behaved with great rftx)priety 
 and dignity at his trial ; but it was by no meaLm 
 equal to the belmviour of Jesus in similar circum- 
 stances, tliough it is probable that he was. \vh,Qlly 
 unajcquainted with the forms and §plemnity of 
 courts of justice, especially those of the Romans^^ 
 which would have thrown many persons intirely 
 off their guard ; whereas Socrates hsd himself sajt as 
 a judge in one of the most important criminal c^u, 
 ses that was ever brought Ijcfore any court of juH- 
 tioc. But Jesus replied to the interrogations of Fi- 
 layte the Romaji governor, as well aa to ihos^ of the 
 G. Jewish 
 
9S 
 
 SOCUATES AND 
 
 Jewish high priest, ^\ ith the greatest presence of 
 mind, and the utmost propriety ; having the pru- 
 dence and self command, to make no answer at all 
 to questions that were improper, and required none. 
 This he did in a manner that astonished Pilate 
 himself. 
 
 The readiness of Jesus to die after a hasty and 
 most unjust condemnation, was certainly not less 
 to be admired than that of Socrates, though the 
 death of the latter was the easiest possible, and not 
 in the least disreputable ; being that to which die 
 first citizens in the state, if sentenced to die, were 
 brought : whereas that to which Jesus was sen- 
 tenced was at the same time the most painful and 
 tlie most ignominious. 
 
 Socrates Ixid a \'eiy humane and compassionate 
 person to administer the poison to him, shedding 
 tears when he delivered it ; and with great propri- 
 ety Socrates spoke kindly to him on the occasion. 
 But it is most probable that the Roman soldiers 
 who nailed Jesus to the cross did that office as they 
 generally did, without any feehng of compassion, 
 and i:>erhaps with mocker}^ as they had treated him 
 before. And yet it is probable that at the very 
 time when they were putting him to the greatest 
 
 pain. 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 99 
 
 pain, he pronounced that admirable prayer in their 
 fevour, (Luke xxiii. 24.) Father forgive them, 
 for they knoiv not what they do, there being no par- 
 ticular guilt in their doing tliat oflice. 
 
 Rousseau, though an unbeliever, was struck 
 with the great difference between the cases of Jesus 
 and Socrates in their last moments, and describes 
 them in the following energetic manner. •' The 
 *' death of Socrates, who breathed his last m philo- 
 •* sophical conversation with his friends, is the 
 *' mildest death that nature could desire ; while 
 *' the death of Jesus, expiring in torment, injured, 
 *' inhumanly treated, mocked, and cursed by an 
 *' assembly of people, is the most horrible one that 
 " a mortal could apprehend. Socrates while he 
 *' tak-es the poisoned cup gives his blessing to the 
 *' person who presents it to him v^ith the tenderest 
 " marks of sorrow, Jesus in the midst of his ago- 
 " nies prays — for whom? for his executioners. 
 *' Ah! if the life and death of Socrates carry the 
 *' marks of a sage, the life and death of Jesus pro- 
 *^ claim a God." 
 
 SfiCTIftN 
 
 C2. 
 
100 , SOCRATES AND 
 
 Section V'III. 
 
 OftJic a'ljfcrcnt Objects of tin- Inztruct'ions of Socrates 
 and of Jesus. 
 
 There is a remarkable difference Ijetueen thef»e- 
 neral conduct of Jesus nnd liis apostles, and that 
 of Socrates and the Grecian philosophers in gene- 
 ral, with respect to tlie persons to tvhom they usu- 
 ally addressed tJicir instructions. All the teaching 
 of the latter Mas confined to persons of good condi- 
 tion, such as were likely to have influence in the 
 important offices and concerns of the stats ; but this 
 was 110 particular object with Jesus. Though So- 
 crates, unlike other philosophers, took no money 
 for his instructions, his admonitions appear to have 
 been confined to persons of tlie same class with the 
 pupils of the others. There is not one of the dia- 
 logues in which he is the speaker, eiUier in Xeno- 
 phon or Plato, in aa hich the common people are 
 an}' part of the audience ; so that the great mass of 
 citizens could not receive any benefit from his 
 teaching. 
 
 On the other hand, the discourses of Jesus were 
 addressed to persons of all ranks promiscuoasly, 
 
 aiid 
 
JE6U3 COMPARED. 101 
 
 and generally to crowds of the common people, 
 though without excluding any, and rather selecting 
 those of the lower classes, who were held in con- 
 tempt by the learned scribes and pharisees, for his 
 audience. He was commonly attended by great 
 multitudes, of whom very few can be thought to 
 have been what we c^W persons of condition, or who 
 were likely to have any influence in public affairs, 
 to which indeed his instructions had no relation 
 whatever. 
 
 On two occasions, when crowds of this kind at- 
 tended him, he fed them by a benevolent miracle ; 
 ivhereas had they been opulent, they would, no 
 doubt, ;have come sufficiently provided with every 
 thJJig. We read (Mark vi. 34.) that ke was mov- 
 ed with compassiwx towards tfie miihitude^ because 
 iheywere as sheep not having a shepherd. And 
 a^in, (Matt. xv. 32.) he says, I have compassion 
 m the multitude., because they have continued with 
 me mow three days, ojid have nothing to eat ; and I 
 am unwilling to send them away fasting, lest they 
 fjmit m the luay. 
 
 Sometimes pes'sons of better condition, and of 
 •a 'higl>er rank, such as Nicodemus, applied to Je- 
 ««-6 ; sbut we i-kever find that he sought their socie- 
 ty, or first, in:any -manner, applied to them, or to 
 G 3. any 
 
102 SOCRATES AND 
 
 any of the scribes and phari^sces, who were the lead- 
 ing men in tlie coruntr}-. Whereas, Socratei) \\ith 
 the l)est views, no doubt, appears to have applied 
 to no other. In this circiimstajice, ho\v'ever, we 
 see a sti ikin,^ dlflerencc bcl^veen these two teach- 
 ers of virtue. The object of Socrates was the in- 
 struction of a Jlii\ but that of Jesus of the rnany^ 
 and es})eeiuli those of the middle and lower clas- 
 ses, as standing in most need of instruction, ^d 
 most likely to rccci\e it wiih gratitude and without 
 pi'ejudice. 
 
 The apostles, in this and in every thing else, fol- 
 lowed the example ot their master, and addressed 
 themselves to all classes of men without distincti- 
 on, and \\ithout ever selecting the powerful, the 
 rich, or the learned. To tliem men of all descrip- 
 tions were equal, as standing in the same relation to 
 the common parent of all mankind ; equally train- 
 ing up by him in the same great school of moral 
 discipline here, and alike heirs of immortality here- 
 after. 
 
 Thus the apostle Paul says, (1 Cor. xii. 13.) 
 We are all baptized into one body^ ivhether ive be 
 Jews or Gentiles^ whether ive be bond or free. (Gal. 
 xiii. 27.) As many of you as hai^e been baptized 
 into Christ /Miic put on Christ. There is iwiiher 
 
 Jew 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 103 
 
 Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond 7ior free, there 
 is neither male nor female, for ye are all one in Christ 
 Jesus. (Col. iii. 11.) There is neitlier Greek nor 
 JeWf circumcision nor iincircumcision, barbarian, 
 Scythian, bond nor fr/ee ; but Christ is all arid in all. 
 This is language suited to the equal nature, and e- 
 qual rights of all men ; but it \v'as never held by the 
 Grecian philosophers, nor did their conduct at all 
 correspond to it. With them barbarians, and espe- 
 cially slaves, were of little account, any farther than 
 they were qualified to serve them. 
 
 Accordingly, we find that the scliools of the 
 Grecian philosophers were attended by none but 
 persons of considerable rank and v^'calth. The 
 lower order of the citizens took no interest in any 
 thing that they taught, so that their morals could 
 not be at all improved by them. But by the preach- 
 ing of the apostles a great and visible reformation 
 was made among all ranks of men, and especially 
 the lower, and of those some of the most depraved. 
 Thus the apostle Paul, after observing M'hat was 
 quoted from him before, concerning those who 
 should ;zo/ inherit the kingdom of God, as idolaters, 
 adulterers, thieves, &c. adds, but such were some of 
 you, But ye are ixiashed, but ye are sanctifed, but ye 
 are justi^ed, in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by 
 G 4. tlie 
 
lOi &OC*ATT.8 AND 
 
 r^}ePprrxt aftnir 'Qvrl, Many jxissik^s ra the epis- 
 tles of the apostles shew the Mretohed state with re^ 
 ■sjicd to iTKJTifcls in which the ^-os])ol fbundfnen,imd 
 ho^- much, t'hey weie improved \Ty k. 
 
 In none of the dialogues of Socrates do we iind 
 any ivoman to be present, except Thcodota, tlie 
 courtezan above mentioned , ancl though the do- 
 mestic manners of the Grecian 'women of virtue, 
 and of condition, \\ere such as that they could not 
 with decency attend public discourses, the middle 
 and lower classes of women in Greece, as in all o- 
 ther countries, went abroad as openly as men ; and 
 therefore might have been in the way of instructi- 
 on, had the common people in general been addres- 
 sed by the philosophers. 
 
 But christian teachers ne\ er made any account 
 of diiference of sex. When Jesus fed tlic five tliou- 
 -sand, and also the four tliousand, dicre were "coo- 
 men and children among them, as veil as men. 
 The same was the case with tlK- chiistian churclics 
 in Conndi, and otlicT cities of Greeoe. Even at 
 Athens, ^\■hel•e Paul did not jnakc many con- 
 verts, there was one woman ctf the name of J>ama- 
 ris, (Acts xvii. 34.) Wliat her coiniit-ion was is 
 not said. But as she is menliomid by name, it ib 
 
 pr()h;ihlf* 
 
J'EStrS COMPARED. 105 
 
 probable ifeit, likeLydia, she was of some consi- 
 derable rank, -at least her own mistress, not subject 
 to (tlie controul of another. 
 
 Section IX. 
 
 InfersTwes tohe drawn from the Comparison of So- 
 crates and Jesus, 
 
 1. In comparing the characters, the moral in- 
 structions, and the whole of tlie history, of Socrates 
 and Jesus, it is, I think, impossible not to be sen- 
 sibly struck with the great advantage of revealed 
 religion, such as that of the Jews and the christians, 
 as enlightening and enlarging the minds of men, 
 and imparting a superior excellence of character. 
 This alone can account for tlie difference between 
 Socrates and Jesus, and the disciples of each of 
 them ; but this one circumstance is abundantly- 
 sufficient for the purpose. 
 
 I1ie inanner in \^^ich -5ie «iind of Jesus must 
 iiave been impressed by the persuasion that he had 
 of his peculiar relation to God on the one part, and 
 to all mankind on the other, could not fail to make 
 him superior to "Socrates, or any other man, in ele- 
 va:tion of mind, what ever might be their superiori- 
 
 G 5. \y 
 
106 SOCRATES AND 
 
 ty With respect to intellect, general knov. ledge, or 
 natural ad\antagcs of any other kind. 
 
 The far greater extent of the views of Jesus, as 
 bearing an important relation to all mankind, and 
 the most distant generations of them ; being their 
 prophet and k'lng^ and also his own peculiar relati- 
 on to God, the common parent of them all, being, 
 as it were, his 'uicegeretit itpon earth, necessarily 
 gave him an elevation of character that neither 
 Socrates nor any other man could have. 
 
 Interested as he was for all that should ever bear 
 the christian name (which in due time he did not 
 doubt would be the case with all men) \\ ith \\liat 
 fer\'our did he pray, (John xvii. 21.) that they 
 might be one with him and his Father, as they two 
 were one, and that they might shcire in the glo-ry 
 that was destined for himself from the foundation of 
 theworhl- What dignity, as Avell aspiet)-, do we 
 see here ? What other man could have used such 
 language as this? 
 
 The habitual piety of Jesus was such as could 
 not have been expected in Socrates, or the most 
 virtuous of tlie heathens. He appears to have spo- 
 ken, and acted, as at all times not only in the im- 
 mediate presence, but as by tlie immediate directi- 
 on of God. The words that he spakcy he said, (John 
 
 xiv. 10.) 
 
JESUS COMPARED ' 107 
 
 xiv. 10.) were not his owti, but those 0/ the Father 
 ivho sent him ; and who, being always with him, 
 and ahvays hearing him, performed the miraculous 
 works by which his divine mission was evidenced. 
 So assiduous was he in the discharare of his hiQ:h 
 commission, that, as he said, (John iv. 34.) it was 
 his meat and drink to do the ivill of his Iieavcnly fa^ 
 ther, and Jinish the -work t/mt he gai^e him to do. 
 
 Raised as he was to a preeminence above all 
 other men, he seems to have been even more than 
 any other man sensible of his dependence upon 
 God, and he had recourse to him on all occasions. 
 We even read (Luke vi. 12.) of his spending^ 
 whole night in prayer to God ; and it was in obedi- 
 ence to his will that, notwithstanding the dread tliat 
 he naturally felt for the painful death to which he 
 was destined, and the horror that he expressed on 
 the near view of it, he voluntarily and patiently 
 submitted to it. He prayed, and with peculiar 
 earnestness, that the bitter cup might pass from 
 him, but iramediately added, (Matt. xxvi. 39.) 
 Not my will but thine be done. Nothing like this 
 could be expected from Socrates, or any heathen. 
 Their knowledge of God, his providence, and his 
 will, were too obscure and uncertain for the pur- 
 pose, though they had been ever so well disposed. 
 
 As 
 
l08 SOCRATES AVD 
 
 As the- w orship of Socrates was, nominally at 
 Jeast, directed only to Jupiter, Juno, and the otl^r 
 gods that were acknowledged by his counti}-, it 
 was hai'dly possible for him not to retain such ideas 
 as were generally entertained of tliem ; and not- 
 withsUmding his endca\'oui-s to divest his mind of 
 every tiling in their character that must have ap- 
 peai'ed un\\orthy of divinity, such is the power of 
 association, that it was impossible he should ever 
 do it completely ; and if not, his reverence for the 
 objects of his worship must have fallen infinitely 
 short of that which Jesus, and the Jews in general, 
 had for their God; and every sentiment of -devoti- 
 on must have partaken of tliat imperfection. Tl^eir 
 love, or attachment to them, their dread of their 
 power, their dcvotedness to their will in doing, and 
 dieir resignation to their will in suftering, the sense 
 they had of their constant dependence upoaathem, 
 and of their presence with them, must have -beau 
 very little compared \\'Tth the same sentiments in 
 the mind of a pious Jew, with respect to the one 
 great object of his worship. 
 
 This must be apparent to any person wIiq wrH 
 read the book oi" Psiilms, Hnd cxji^ipai'e those devo- 
 tional compositions '\vithTniy(H'tlierebe any such) 
 of asimilarnaturc composed -by hcaflsens. But 
 
 tiicre 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 109 
 
 there was nothing in the religions of the lieathens, 
 at least among the Greeks and Romans, that could 
 inspire any sentiments that deserve to be called de- 
 votional. This striking difference no person will 
 say was owmg to any superiority of genius in the 
 Hebrew poets, and therefore it must have been 
 owing to superior knowledge; and this superior 
 knowledge could not have had any source but from 
 divine revelation. Witliout this tlie Hebrews 
 would, no doubt, have been as absurdly supersti- 
 tions as any of the neighbouring nations ; and con- 
 sequently their ideas of the power and providence 
 of God as little proper to inspire sentiments of true 
 devotion. 
 
 To persons of reflection, and acquainted with 
 the state of the heathen world, gind especially their 
 turn of thinking and acting with respect to religion, 
 there needs no other evidence of the truth of revela- 
 tion than a compai'ison of the hymns in honour of 
 the heathen gods by Callimachus, and other Gre- 
 cian poets, or the carmen secular e of Horace, with 
 the psalms of David, and other devotional parts of 
 the books of scripture, with respect to justness and 
 elevation of sentiment, and correspondent sublimi-. 
 ty of language. 
 
 2. In 
 
110 SOCRATES A!>rD 
 
 2. In the account that we have of the daemon of 
 Socrates, what he says of it himself, and what ap- 
 pears to have been gcnerall}' thought of it by others> 
 we clearly perceive that there is nothing so natural- 
 ly incredible as modem unbelievers represent with 
 respect to di^ ine intcipositions, either in the case 
 of the vulgar, or the philosophers of ancient times. 
 The universal practice of having recourse to oracles 
 anddiviniition, is alone an abundant proof of this 
 y,\th respect to mankind in general ; and tlie idea 
 of a mystical wiion with God, and a consequent inti- 
 mate communication with him, came into Christia- 
 nity from the later Platonists. In every thing of 
 this kind the emperors Marcus Aurelius and Ju- 
 lian, the great boasts of modem unbelievers, were 
 as credulous as the lowest of the vulgar. 
 
 Where, indeed, can be the impropriety, or im- 
 probability, oftlie Being that made the world, giv- 
 ing attention to it, and giving suitable intimations 
 of that attention ; and this no uniform appeai-ances 
 will do. It is not men's seeing the sun rise and 
 set, or their observing the regular changes oftlie 
 seasons, that impresses them with the idea of any 
 tiling supernatural ; but unusual appearances, 
 though equally natural, arising from the same ])rin- 
 dples and laws of nature, such as thunder, light- 
 ning, 
 
JESUS COMPARED. IH 
 
 fiing, eclipses, and earthquakes, &c. Both history 
 and daily observation is a proof of this. And, sure- 
 ly miracles, performed by duly authorized pro- 
 phets, do this infinitely better than any merely un- 
 usual natural phenomena. 
 
 This opinion of the natural incredibility of ac- 
 counts of miracles, on which Mr. Hume, and af- 
 tcr him other unbelievers lay so much stress, as 
 what no positive testimony can shake, is quite a 
 modem thing. But had tiiis incredibility had any 
 foundation in nature, it must have been the same 
 at all times, and in all countries ; and it must have 
 affected all classes of men, princes and peasants, 
 the learned and the unlearned ; whereas all history 
 shews that a propensity to believe accounts of di- 
 vine interpositions has been universal. It entered 
 into all systems of religion whatever, and no nation 
 was ever without some religion. It is impossible, 
 therefore, not to conclude that a system wliich sup- 
 poses miracles is naturally adapted to gain belief, 
 and therefore that a pretension to miracles is far 
 from being a circumstance unfavourable to its re- 
 ception. It is rather a presumption in its favour. 
 If it be any object with the Divine Being to giA-e 
 mankind intimations of his attention to them, and 
 
 govern- 
 
\.13 SOCRATES AND- 
 
 government over them, which no person can say is 
 impossible, or improUibie, he con Id not take any 
 otlier mc^iod tiian that of niiiacles to gain his encL 
 
 Much has been said about Socrates referring 
 Alcibiadcs to a future instructor^ as if he had been 
 sensible of the want of supcmatttral communicati- 
 on, and tliat he hoped for, and cx^x^ctcd it. But 
 supposin,£^ Plato's account of tlie conversation, 
 (p. 295.) to be depended upon, which it certainly 
 caimot, I can by no means infer so much from it. 
 After expressing the uncertainty men arc under 
 with respect to proper requests to the gods, he tells 
 Alcibiadcs that '* he must wait till some person in- 
 ** form him (r/j y.uB-/\) how he sliould conduct 
 " himself both M'ith respect to the gods ai^ to. 
 *• men." 
 
 When, in reply to this, Alcibiadcs expresses 
 much importunity to be informed who this teach- 
 er was, taking for granted that it was some man 
 (for he says ** I would gladly know who diis man. 
 "is,") Socrates only says, that *' it was one who 
 " cared much for him," meaning probably that he 
 was much his friend ; "but that at present a degire 
 " of darkness hung over his mind, which must 
 " first be dispersed." I therefore diink it most 
 
 probable 
 
JESUS C^OMPARED 113 
 
 probable that he meant hhnsdf^ but that he thought 
 his pupil not then sufficiently prepared to receive 
 fiirther instruction on the subject. 
 
 3. We see in the case of Socrates himsehS as 
 well as in that of the people of Athens in general, 
 the strong attachment \vhich the heathens had to the 
 rites of their ancient religions. To disregard them, 
 and to adopt other rites, was punishable with death. 
 The Athenians, as well as other nations, occasion- 
 ally adopted the worship of other gods, and other 
 gods, and other modes of worship, out individuals 
 were not allowed to do it. It must be done by the 
 authority of the state, and at Athens it was by the 
 court of Areopagus. On this account the apostle 
 Paul, who was said to endeavour to introduce the 
 worship of strange gods, and anew religion, vv'as 
 brought before this court. 
 
 But though heathen nations sometimes adopted 
 other rites, they never abandoned then- ancient 
 ones. There does not appear to have been any ex- 
 cimple of this in all antiqi'.ity. Nor can we wonder 
 at this, when it is considered, that in all heathen 
 countries, the prosperity of the state was thought 
 to depend upon the observance of the religious ritts 
 of their ancestors, the founders of the respectixe 
 states. No principle appears to have been more 
 
 H. fixed 
 
114 SOCRATES AND 
 
 fiiiccl in the mmds-of-?H-mcn than this. Wcsee it 
 in the extreme reluctance with ^hich some of the 
 most absurd and indecent rites, as the Lupercaha 
 at Rome, \\ere given up. .-Vnd to the \cry last, the 
 more learned, and therefore, it may be presumed, 
 tlie least superstitious of die Romans, constantly 
 upbraided the christians with being the cause of 
 the decline of the empire, by the introduction of 
 their new religion. 
 
 This attachment of the heatlicns to their religion 
 was necessarily increased by its entering into all 
 the customs, and confirmed habits, of common 
 life ; .some rite of a religious nature being observed 
 from the time of their birth to that of their death, 
 and in fact from tlie moniing to the evening of eve- 
 ry day. Every entertainment, public or private, 
 was tinctured \vith it. No act of magistracy could 
 be pciformed \\ iihout it ; and in countries the most 
 advanced in civilization the public festivals, in ho- 
 nour of their gods, were ver)' numerous. It will 
 be seen in Potter's Antiquities of Greece^ that not 
 less than sixty-six of them v;ere observed by the 
 Athenians, and several of them were of some days 
 continuance. And in general there was so much 
 in them of festivity and amusement, bordering, to 
 say the least, on licentiousness, tliat they \vere very 
 fascinating to die common people. \\''hca 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 115 
 
 • When it is considered how discordant and incon- 
 sistent all this was with the principles of Christiani- 
 ty, so that when any heathen became a christian lie 
 must change every habit of his life, as well as his 
 opinions; that let him live ever so privately, he 
 .could hardly pass a single day wrtlwut the change 
 being observed, and that at the birth of a child, a 
 marriage, or a funeral, it must have been conspi- 
 cuous to all his neighbours, and the whole city, 
 though he might have found some excuse for not 
 attending the public sacrifices, and other rites of 
 a visible nature, and though he should not have 
 thought himself obhged (which ajl christians arc) 
 to make an open ^irofession of his fairfi, confessing 
 Christ before men^ we shall not wonder at the dif- 
 ^ulty with which this great change must have 
 been made, any more than at the alarm that was ta- 
 ken when many converts were made to christianitr, 
 and the consequent persecution of christians, as se- 
 ditious persons, men ^vho turned the ivorld upside 
 down, (Acts xvii. 6.) their principles tending to the 
 ♦uin of all states. 
 
 While the christians were few, and generally con- 
 sidered as converts to Judaism, which Avas univer- 
 sally tolerated, and while they behaved in a very 
 
 H 2. peaceable 
 
116 SOCRATES AVd 
 
 ]>caccabic inoffensive munner, ihey might not give 
 much alarm, noLuitlrfsUincIing their singularities; 
 but when the}' were observed to be numerous, 
 they ^\oulcl not fail to give alarm to nil heathen go- 
 vernors. They were tllen exposed to tl^ ii'Ost 
 unrelenting persecution, except where the acting 
 magistrates w ere secretly disposed in their favour* 
 
 Tlie r?pid j-^rogress of Christianity in these cir- 
 cuip.stances will ever appear the most extraoidina- 
 ry thing in t^ie history of the v oi Id. It afipeitrs 
 from the epistle of Paul, th.at in his time there were 
 christian churches in all the more considerable ci- 
 ties in *he eastern part of the Roman empire. In 
 the time of die emperor Trajan, the younger Pliny, 
 then governor of Bithynia, complained that the rites 
 ofthc ancient religions were generally dicontinued 
 in his province ; and in the space of about three hun- 
 dred years so numerous and respectable ^vcre the 
 christians become, in the whole extent of that \-ast 
 empire, that the emperors thems-elvcs found they 
 miglit sjifel) declare themselves christians. 
 
 To account for the rise and progress of Christia- 
 nity, and the overtlirow of heathenism, and this 
 without A iolence, in the whole extent of die Ro- 
 man empire, in so short a space of time, is a pro- 
 blem that no unbeliever has seriously attempted to 
 
 solve. 
 
JE«tJS COMPARED. 117 
 
 solve, except Mr. Gibbon may be said to htive en- 
 deavoured to do it. But his observations on the 
 subject are so exceedingly futile, that they discover 
 equal prejudice and ignorance, ignorance of the 
 common principles of human nature, of the nature 
 of heathenism, and of the state of the heathen Avorld. 
 I proposed to enter into the discussion of this im- 
 portant subject with him, but he petulantly declin- 
 -ed it, as may be seen in the letters that passed be- 
 tween us relating to it, published in the Appc?idix 
 to tlye first 'volume of my Discourses en- tJie ei^'utcncc 
 <f rt%mkd religion^ and also in the Life of Mr. 
 Qihhm t^y one of his friends. At my time of life I 
 cannot engage is this, or any other controversy ; 
 but I earnesdy wish, as a friend to important trudi, 
 that some learned and candid unbeliever ( and such 
 I doubt not there are) would engage in it. He 
 would find christians enow equally leai'ued and can- 
 did to 4i§cuss the question Avith him. 
 
 4. !^either Socrates nor Jesus were writers,' 
 and there ^eeiyis to be moi'e of dignity in their cha- 
 racters iu consequence of it, as if they were not ve- 
 ry solicious about transmitting their names to pos- 
 terity ; confident, tliat as far as it was an object with 
 them, it would be sufficiently done by others. All 
 tlieaccouuts. therefore, that we have of tliem come 
 H 3. from 
 
Ilt5 SOCRATES A N' » 
 
 from their disciples and fi icnds. And there is a^- 
 remiirkable difference in the manner in which the 
 life of Socrates is wTitten in' Xenophon, andthatof 
 Jesus b\- the e\angelists. There cannot be a doubt 
 but that the evangelists had a much higher opinion 
 ol their master than Xenophon or Plato had o£ 
 theirs. The traces of this are numerous, and in- 
 disputable ; but there is not in their writings any- 
 direct encomium, or praise, of him, as there is in 
 tlic Greek writers of Socrates ; and yet without any 
 assistance of this kind a reader of moderate discern- 
 ment cannot help forming a much higher idea of 
 Jesus tlian he does of Socrates from die facts re- 
 corded of him, and the discourses abcribed to him. 
 
 Indeed, we haAC no example of such simplicity 
 in writing as that of the scriptures of tlic Old :md 
 New Testaments in all the heathen world ; and it 
 is not easy to account for the difierence, especially 
 with respect to the later writers i except that Mo- 
 ses having begun to write in tliis simple maimer, 
 tlie succeeding wi iters, having no other model, na- 
 turally followed that ; inserting in tlieir composi- 
 tions nothing tliat appeared suiDei^fluous, as direct 
 encomiums are, when the facts from which such 
 encomiums are drawn, ^e before the reader; who 
 may be supposed as capable of drawing a proper 
 inference from ihtni as the writer himself As 
 
JESUS COMPARED. 119 
 
 As the sacred writers say nothing directly in 
 praise of those whom they most esteemed and ad- 
 mired, they say nothing directly in dispraise, or 
 censure, of those whom they most dii-Iikcd, but 
 leave the circumstances they simply mention to 
 make their natural impression upon their readers. 
 And from the effects of tliese two different modes 
 of WTiting, the natural and the artificial^ as they 
 may be termed, the former appears to be better cal- 
 culated to answer the purpose of the writer than 
 the latter. When a man direcdy praises or cen- 
 sures another, we suspect some previous bias for 
 or against hun, and ai'e upon our guard ; but vvhen 
 w-e read a simple narrative of facts, without any ex- 
 planatory remarks of the writer ; we have no sus- 
 picion of any thing unfavourable] to truth- We 
 tiiink we see w\x\\ oar ovvn eyes, and hear with 
 our own ears, and that we thus judge for ourselves. 
 
 My father to she^v how little stress he laid on a 
 casual opinion, has directed me to add the follow- 
 ing sentence concerning the Demon of Socrates — 
 from his second tract in answer to Dr. Linn, iiiid 
 to insert it at the end of the section relating to So- 
 crates. J. P. 
 
 H4. As 
 
120 SOCRATES AND, ScC. 
 
 As to tlic Demon of Socrates, on \^ liicji you 
 urge me so close^j', I profcsbcd not to liave any fixed 
 opinion about It. If I had been asked w hat I thought 
 of It a short time before the writing of my pam- 
 pb.lcl, I should have said, as you do, it was proljaljly 
 notliing more than his own good sense , but on 
 considering his character more particularly, I was 
 unwilling to think that such a man would persist 
 through life, and to his dying moments, in telling a 
 lie. And what tlic Supreme Being might please 
 to do by or willi him, or any man, neither you nor 
 I cin tell. But I never said, as you now quote me, 
 that " God spake to Socrates !)y a demon," which 
 }-ou call, (p. 75,)" aglaringdcformity of my asscr- 
 *' tion. Such an idea never occurred to me. As 
 my opinion on this xcrs' unimportant subject is 
 tmsettled, it is very possible that I may revert to my 
 forrhcr opinion, and yours about it. 
 
 ON 
 
121 
 
 ON 
 
 PLATONISM. 
 
 introduction: 
 
 j^LATO was the professed disciple of Socrates, 
 and attended him eight years. His attachment to 
 him appears by the sum that he raised to procure 
 his release from imprisonment, and his eagerness 
 to speak in his defence at his trial. The vene- 
 ration in which he held his memory is evident from 
 his making him the principal speals^lr in many of 
 his dialogues, and the person who delivers his 
 own sentiments in them. 
 
 After tlie death of Socrates, Plato travelled in 
 quest of knowledge, first into Italy^ where he con- 
 versed with the disciples of Pythagoras, and after- 
 wards into Egj-pt, where, being known to be a per- 
 son of considerable distinction \n his own countr}', 
 he appear to h^ve been received with great respect, 
 and from the Eastein part of the world in which it 
 
 is 
 
122 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 is said he travelled in the disguise of a merchant, 
 he seems to have got some knowledge, directly or 
 indirectly, of the sj^tcm that generally prevailed 
 there. 
 
 That he should expect to leam something in 
 countries out of the bounds of Greece is not ex- 
 traordinary, as it is acknowledged by him, that 
 " what the Greeks knew concerning the gods, and 
 " their worship, was derived from the Barbarians." 
 But he says (Epinomis.) " what the Greeks learn- 
 *' ed of the Barbarians we have improved." Not- 
 withstanding this ackno\vlcdgment, he is willing 
 to ascribe more merit to the Greeks than to thenv 
 when he says (lb.) that " though there is the gixat- 
 " est difficulty in the in\ention of these things, we 
 " hope that all the Greeks >\ill honour the one 
 " God in a better manner than the Barbai'ians, e- 
 '* specially as instructed, and warned, by die Del- 
 " phic oracle" (lb.) so that, in his opinion, the 
 Greeks had divine instrucdon as well as human. 
 
 He fardier acknowledges that, in die early ages, 
 " the Greeks enterti\ined ver\' imperfect ideas of 
 *' die gods and their w orship, having low ideas of 
 " their characters, which they did well to correct. 
 *' Because in time past, he says (lb.) our ancestors 
 " formed WTong opinions of the gods, and dicir 
 
 ** proge- 
 
OF PLATO. 123 
 
 '• progenies, as if they had been aniruals , we 
 •' should now treat the subject differently." In 
 this he alludes to the marriages of the gods and god- 
 desses, and their reputed offspring, in odier gods, 
 and also in their acceding to the iwpular notions, 
 adopted and embellished by the poets, which gave 
 him such offence diat we shall find he proscribed 
 their writings, and excluded them from his com- 
 monwealtii. Indeed, these notions of the vulgar 
 were rejected by all who pretended to philosophy, 
 or s-iperior knowledge, in Greece, from long be- 
 fore the time of Socrates, as we have seen already 
 and to the latest period of it. 
 
 Section I. 
 
 Of God and his Promdence, 
 
 iTie being of a god, or of gods, for Plato uses 
 both the phrases promiscuously, he generally takes 
 for granted. Occasional!}-, however he introduces 
 arguments for his opinion, especially (De Legib. 
 lib. 10.) from the consideration of the structure of 
 the earth, the sun, the stars, and the whole universe; 
 *' How couid bodies of such magnitude," he says. 
 (Epin.) " perform tlieir circuits without god. I 
 
 tlierefore 
 
Ii24 OF THE PHILOSOPHT 
 
 " therefore assert that t^od is the cause of this, ".nd 
 " that there cannot be any other." Tic also ar- 
 gues " from tlie varietv of seaso'-is, dividing time 
 *' into years and months, and also from die con- 
 ^' sent of all nations, Greeks and Barbarians.'* 
 (De Ia:^. lib. 10.) But according to him, and in- 
 deed ail die headien philosopliers without excc]:>ti- 
 on, die matter out of ^hich the world was made, 
 was not created by god, but found by him ; having 
 existed from eternity as well as himself, but in a 
 confused disorderly state, such as was generally 
 termed chaos. The being of a God, or gods, Pla- 
 to thought to be so evident, that he says (lb.) 
 " No person persists in his disbelief of the gods 
 " from youdi to old age." 
 
 There is a great air of piety in the writings of 
 Plato ; and this, no doubt, contributed to make 
 his philosophy so -well received by the early chris- 
 tians. In a letter to Dion (Epist. 4.) he says, " by 
 *' the favour of die gods diings go well-" The 
 same pious language occurs again in the same let- 
 ter. That he pj cferred the term god to that of gods 
 js evident from his letter to Dionysius, of Syra- 
 cuse (Epist. 13.) in which he informs him diat^ 
 in his serious letters lie begins with the tcrm^o^, 
 
 but 
 
OF PLATO 125 
 
 bat thiitin those in which he was not serioushe u* 
 ses the term gods. This, however, is no guide to 
 us witli request to his dialogues, so that we iire left 
 to distinguish his real sentiments from those sjDcak- 
 crs to whom he gives the advantage in tlie argu- 
 ment, whichj however, is sufiicicntly apparent. 
 
 Notwithstanding Plato's great admimtioa of So> 
 crates, he did not confine hiinself, as Socrates did,, 
 to that philosophy which is of practical use in life, 
 tending to rectify the dispositions of men, and incit- 
 ing them to such virtues as would make them use- 
 iul members of society, but indulged in various 
 speculations concerning- tlie nature of God and the 
 universe, and in a manner that liis master would 
 not have approved. Indeed, on these great but ob- 
 scure subjects he is in inany respects perfectly un- 
 intelligible- 
 
 According to Plato, the universe was constructed 
 by the supreme being, whom he frequently dis- 
 tinguishes by the title of ( ayoBog ) without 
 the instrumentality of any subordinate being, ac- 
 cording to a pattern of it previously fi>rnied in his 
 Own mind. But there is great confusion in his ac- 
 count of these ideas in the di'oine rhind^ (which he, 
 no doubt, borrowed from the Pythagoreans as was 
 observed before) so that he sorfietimes makes them 
 
 a se-f 
 
|gi5 or THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 a second principle of things, and distinguishinsj be- 
 tween what is sensible from w liat is ititellectual in 
 man ; and considtring all that wc see here as the 
 object of the senses ^ he supposes these ideas to be 
 invisible to the senses, but comprehended by the 
 intellect; and though they exist in the divine 
 mind, the intellect of man has free access to them. 
 He therefore calls them t/iings inte/IigibL', and says 
 that what we see here are only the shadows of them, 
 and changeable, whereas those intelligible ideas are 
 the only things that are unchangeable, and perma- 
 nent. The great object of philosophy, according 
 to him, is to raise the mind to the contemplation of 
 these higher, intelligible, ami permanent, objects. 
 
 Aristotle ascribes this view of thinge to Hera- 
 clitus. " The doctrine oHdeas, he says, is advanc- 
 " ed by those who were con\inced by Heraclitus, 
 " that sensible things are always flowing, and 
 "changeable; so that if there be any such thing 
 ** as real knoivledge^ wliich M'as supposed to re- 
 " quire 2l fixed object, there must be things ofadif- 
 " ferent nature from those that are the object of our 
 *' senses- They must be fixed, there being no 
 *• proper ^Knowledge of things that arc flowing.'' 
 
 (Metaph, Lib. 12. Cap. 4.) 
 
 T<^ 
 
OF PLATO. '127 
 
 To this doctrine Plato seems to allude when he 
 says (De. Leg. Lib. 10.) " All see the body of 
 ** the sun, but not the soul tliat animates it ; Not 
 ** being the object of any of our senses, it is seen 
 *' by the mind.'' All the meaning that I can make 
 of this doctrines of ideas, perceived by the intellect, 
 and not by the senses, things not fluctuating and 
 variable, as the objects that we converse with are, 
 is that they mean what we call abstract ideas, as 
 those of horses, men, trees, &c. divested of the cir- 
 cumstances of colour, size, place, 8?:c. which 31! . 
 ways attend individual objects ; and in this there 
 is no great mystery, but still every actual idea has^ 
 some peculiarity or other, as well as real objt:/;. 
 
 On this mysterious doctrine of ideas, which ^^ere 
 personified by the later Platonists, and made a 
 kind of second god, the immediate author of the 
 creation, was founded the doctrine of the christian 
 trifiity, as I have she^\'n at large in my History of 
 Early Opinion concerning Jesus Christ. I'he mis- 
 chief that has arisen from false metophysical prin- 
 ciples has been most extensive, affecting every ar- 
 ticle of christian faith and practice, as may be seen 
 in several of my writings. Indeed, no branch of 
 science has wholly escaped this subtle and baleful 
 influence. Happily, however, good sense is at 
 
 length 
 
128 OF THE ^Hitosoriir 
 
 length prevailing over every thing tliat is not found- 
 ed on reason and truth; and with this, though 
 seemingly foreign to the subject of religion, we are 
 deriving that light which exhibits Christianity in its 
 best and purest state, as it came from Christ and 
 the apostles, who knowing nothing of heathen phi- 
 losophy, or metaphysics, delivered the- plainest 
 truths in the plainest language, though the)' have 
 since their times been most strangely penerted by 
 an unnatural mixture of heatlK'n principles, and 
 heathen superstition. 
 
 Notwithstanding the absurdity of Plato's meta- 
 physical notions concerning tlie nature of God, and 
 his itlation to the universe, his ideas of his attri- 
 butes , and of his proiiidencc^ were in g-encral just 
 and excellent, agreeing with those of ihc scrip- 
 tures. 
 
 Having frequently represented the Supreme Be- 
 ing as the friend of virtue, and the enemy of vice, 
 he says, (De. Leg. Lib. 10.) " God cannot have 
 *' the disposition that he hates. God apj)rovcs of 
 *' those who resemble himself, and is angry (vcjUfcra) 
 " with those who are unlike to him. But iwthing 
 
 " is so like God as a good man He is the most 
 
 " sacred of all things," (Alcib. 2.) meaning diat he 
 has tlie nearest relation to divinity. 
 
 The 
 
OF PLATO. 129 
 
 The term by which he generally characterizes the 
 Supreme Being is in the singular number, viz. 
 the Good, {ayuB^') vindicating his most essential 
 attribute. *' Evil," he says (Rep. 3.) "cannot 
 " come from God," and in (Rep. xi.) " we must 
 *' look to some other than God for the cause of e- 
 " vil." This principle, however, he did not cairy 
 so far as the Stoics, who maintained that God was 
 incapable of anger, so that he would not punish 
 even the wicked. On the contrary, Plato repre- 
 sents the Supreme Being, though termed t/ie Good, 
 as no less jusi than merciful. " That there are 
 *' gods," he says (De. Leg. Lib. 10.) " and that 
 " they are good, and respect justice more than- 
 *' men, is tlie best introduction to a body of laws." 
 After denominating him, " the beginning, the mid- 
 *' die, and the end, and tlie supporter of all things," 
 he says (De. Leg. Lib. 4.) " he is always accompa- 
 " nied by justice, and punishes diose who depart 
 ** from the divine law. The humble follow him 
 " quiet and composed, but he that is ekvated by 
 *' his riches, his beauty, or any other advantage, as 
 " if he stood in no need of a guide, is deserted by 
 ** lum ; and though such a person may appear en- 
 ** viable to man, in the end he destroys himself, his 
 ?* family, and the state." Agreeably to this, he 
 
 I. Sraycj, 
 
130 OK TlfE niiLosopiiv 
 
 says, (Dc. Lev;. Lib. 10.) " Let not tlic sue- 
 " cess of wicked and unjust men, who, though not 
 '* truly happy, ai-e generally reputed to be so, and 
 " who are extolled in poems and discourses, drive 
 " thee rashly into impiety ; nor be disturbed tho' 
 " diey should continue so to old age, and this pros- 
 *' perity should extend to their children. Nor be 
 " thou angn' w ith the gods w ho permit tliis, or 
 *' think that diey neglect the affairs of men ; for 
 " they will not be exempt from punishment after 
 " death." 
 
 Veracit}- is another moral attribute that Plato as- 
 cribes to God. " The nature of God, and of 
 " demons," he says, (De. Rep. Lib. 2.) '*ad- 
 *' mits not of falsehood ; for God is altogether 
 *' simple, and tnie in his words and actions. He 
 " neither changes himself, nor can he deceive o- 
 " thers, by vicious speeches, or omens, to men 
 *' sleeping or awake." This he says by way of 
 censure on Homer, who represents Jupiter as act- 
 ing in this deceitful and unworthy manner, dis- 
 gi'acefiil to a man, ajid much more so to a God. To 
 the divine character in this respect he seems to al- 
 lude, though w ith much obscurity, wlien he says, 
 (De. Rep. Lib. 6.) *' As light and our view of it, 
 ** are not the sun, but the resemblance of the sun, 
 
 " so 
 
OF PLATO. 131 
 
 " SO knowledge and trudiarc die image oUhe Goody 
 *' but not die Good," meaning God. The majes- 
 ty of the Good itself is greater. Agreeably to this 
 honourable idea of the divine character, he says 
 that " the offerings to God," meaning those diat 
 are most acceptable to him, " arc honour, vencra- 
 ''* tion, and gratitude," (Eutliyphro.) 
 
 But notwithstanding this, we shall see that, like 
 all the other Jieathen philosophers, Plato strongly 
 recommends a conformity to the idolatrous rites of 
 religious worship established in his countr}% and 
 even the rigorous punishment of all that did not 
 conform to them ; so far were they from following 
 the light they really had, and so little prospect wa.s 
 there of the world in general being enlightened, and 
 and reformed, by their instructions. 
 
 The writings of Plato contain several just ami 
 beautiful illustrations of the providence and moral 
 government of God. " God,'* he says, (Politicus) 
 *' is the shepherd of mankind, taking the same care 
 ** of us that a shepherd does of his sheep and oxen. 
 *' He takes care (Dc. Leg. Lib. 10.) of the smallest 
 " things as well as of the greatest. None ofihe 
 *' causes of neglect in men can take place with rt-- 
 ** spect to God. We all acknoM ledge," he says, 
 1 2. ' (lb.) 
 
 r 
 
132 or THE PHILOSOrH'?' 
 
 (lb.) " that the Gods set every thing, tliat lliey art 
 *' all powerful imd good, jeathc best possible, nof 
 *' can ihey be affected Ijy idleness or fear. The}', 
 *' therefore, cannot des])ise or neglect aiiy thing be- 
 ** cause it is small. Besides, there is more difli- 
 " culty in seeing, and disposing of, small things 
 ** thiui of great ones." 
 
 " The universe," he adds, " belongs to God, 
 " and he ^^ ill not neglect what is his own. He 
 *' cannot be called a \\ ise physician who only at- 
 *' tends to the body in general, and not to the par- 
 *' ticular parts. Nor do governors of cities, or 
 "masters of families, neglect small -dungs. Ar- 
 " chitects also make use of small stones in laying 
 *' the lai-rcr ones. And let us not think that God, 
 " who is the w isest of all, is less w ise than man. 
 *' Besides man is a worshipper of die gods," and 
 tlierefore more deseiTing of his attention and 
 care. 
 
 To shew that the Supreme Being is incapable of 
 I fcing diverted from the just administration of af- 
 fairs by any imworthy motive, he saf^s (De. Leg. 
 Lib. 10.) " To say that the gods aixr easily appcas- 
 *' ed, is to compare them to dogs or wolves, which 
 " are pacified by giving tliem part of the plunder, 
 ** and tlitn sufici- them to worry the slicep. Cha- 
 
 ** riotecps 
 
JDF PLATO. 133 
 
 ^ rioteersarenotto be bribed, nor arc commanders 
 *' of armies, or physicians, nor arc husbandmer^ 
 " or shepherds to l)e deceiA ed in this manner, nor 
 *' even can crafty aaoIvcs thus decei\'e dogs. And 
 ^' are the gods the greatest guardians of the great- 
 *' est things, and are the keepers of the greatest 
 '' things worse tlian dogs, or rhen of moderate ca* 
 *' pacit}'-, who never act unjustly deceived by the 
 ^* bribes of unjust men ?" 
 
 There is haidly any advantage that men ar^ 
 possessed of that Plato does not ascribe to the gods, 
 and to their good Avili to men. " It appeal's to me," 
 he says fPhilebus,) '• that God sent gifts to men by 
 *' Prometheus, together with fire. It is not by 
 " art," he says, (Epin.) *' but by nature, and the 
 *' favour of the gods, that we cultivate the earth." 
 He makes God the author of friendsliip, by dispos- 
 ing dispositions that are similar, and formed for 
 friendship, to unite. (Lysis,) " In the forming of 
 " states," he says, (De. Leg. Lib. 4.) " we must 
 *' begin with invoking the gods, that they may be 
 propitious to us, and assist us in making laws." 
 And after representing the advantage of the right 
 worship of the gods, as the most important of all 
 things to be attended to, he says, j( Epin.) *'No man 
 " can rightly teach this without the assistance of 
 1 3, *'God." 
 
lo4' CF THE lI'lLOSOrilV 
 
 He even asciibcs to d'niiic ins])iration tlie great 
 thini^sthut eminent statesmen do for their eouutry, 
 ■witliout understanding the nature, or foreseeing the 
 consequences of them, adding, that " all good mcQ 
 *' arc in some sense divine." (Meno.) i. 
 
 It must have been among the Pythagoreans that 
 Pli.to learned ^vhat he writes, but in a manner that 
 is very unintelligible, conci:ming mmiberSy of \\ hich 
 their philosophy made great use. It seems most 
 probable that by metaphysical reasoning they made 
 tlie Supreme Being to be represented by imity ; and 
 as all numbers consist of unity repeated, and after 
 thus proceeding from it are resolvable into it a- 
 gain; so all things, after proceeding from their 
 Jirst cause, will be resolved into it. But this is not 
 the oni}' use that Plato, no doubt after the Pytha- 
 goreans, made of this comparison. But t\ hate\er 
 be the knowledge tliat we derive from this source, 
 Plato ascribes it to God. " We affirm," he says, 
 (Epin.) " that numbers are the gift of God, and 
 *' on them all the arts of life depend, but this no 
 " prophet ( ixavjis ) can comprehend. "W'hate- 
 *' vcr is \\ ickcd and irregular is deficient ^idi rc- 
 *' spect to number. Many animals cannot learn 
 *' from their parents the use of numbers. It is 
 *' God tliat gives us tliis power. The excellent 
 
 " ancient, 
 
or PLATO 135 
 
 " ancients," he says, (Philebus) " who were near- 
 " cr to the gods than we are, taught us that the uni- 
 " verse consists of one and many^ which ahvays has 
 " been, and ever will be. The resemblance of 
 *' numbers dissimilar in their nature, when reduced 
 " to a plane, is e\'ident ; and this to a person of 
 *' understanding must appear not to be a human, 
 *' but a divine wonder" (Epin.) We do not, 
 however, find, that this mysterious doctrine of 
 numbers was taken up by any of the succeeding 
 sects of philosophy, so that it probably died with 
 Plato. 
 
 Section II. 
 Of the Polytheism of Plato, 
 
 With all Plato's knowledge of the divinity, of his 
 attributes, and his universal providence, and of his 
 preference of the term god to that of gods^ \\ hen he 
 is treating of the divine nature, he was, like all hea- 
 thens, a polytheist, and like them an advocate for 
 the strict observance of the idolatrous rites of his 
 country. 
 
 He seems to have learned the doctrine of two 
 
 principles in the East, %m his sayings (De. Leg. 
 
 I 4. Lib. 10.) 
 
136 OF THE rillLOSOPHY 
 
 Lib. 10.) " Are there one or more souls? Not less 
 " than two, tlie one beneficent, and the other ma- 
 ,, leficent* ;" and also from his saying, as was 
 quoted before, that " we must look to something 
 "else than god for the source of evil." But this 
 was never a doctrine that prevailed in the West. 
 But that Plato considered more being-s than one to 
 be entitled to the rank of gods, is evident from his 
 saying (Epin.) " why should we not take the part 
 *' of god who is the author of all good. But which 
 *' of gods, perhaps the hea'ucns, which we consider 
 *' as the most righteous, as all the demons and the 
 " other gods agree to honour him ; and pray to 
 *• him above all." What he meant by the divini- 
 ty of the heavens ^ w hetlier the Supreme Being, or 
 the sun, is not clear. 
 
 He evidently considered all the celestial bodies 
 as animated, ajid intitled to the rank of gods. " The 
 ** divine race of stars," he says, (Epin.) must be 
 *' considered as celestial animals, with most beau- 
 *' tiful bodic-s, and happy blessed souls ; and tliat 
 
 " diey 
 
 * By this he might 7nean matter, which rvas by 
 
 seme considered as refractory., and the only source 
 
 of evil. But by saying it was maleficent, /ic seem- 
 
 ed to consider it as a principle that had intelligence, 
 
 end activity. 
 
OF PLATO. 137 
 
 ** they have souls is evident from the regularity of 
 ** their motions." In a manner that to me is per- 
 fectly unintelligible, he derives the different orders 
 of gods from the diiferent elements in nature, plac- 
 ing them, after mentioning by name Jupiter, Juno, 
 and the demons, according to their dlflercnt ranks, 
 and provinces (Epin.) He seems, too, to have con. 
 sidcred the earth as a proper deity, and the parent of 
 the animals that exist upon it./ " For the same 
 *' reason" he says, (Menexenus.) " that a inoaier 
 " bears her children, the eai'th has produced men. 
 *' For it is the earth, and nothing else, that supplies 
 *' them with food, as having itself produced them." 
 
 Plato's dread of innovations in matters of religi- 
 on, appeal's from the following passage in his Epi- 
 nomis. " A legislator of the least understanding 
 " will make no innovations, and take care not to 
 *' turn his state to any othei' mode of worship, or 
 " dare to move what his country has established by 
 " law or custom concerning sacrifices; for hd 
 " knows that no mortal can come at any certainty 
 *' with respect to these matters." And yet he ap- 
 proved of such additions to the public rites as 
 would be an improvement upon any of them. ^' A 
 " legislator," he says (lb.) *' will be free from 
 I 5. " blame 
 
138 OF THE PHILOSOrHY 
 
 " blame if he thinks better of the gods tlian his 
 *' prcdecebsors, aiid by excellent discipline honour 
 " them with hymns and praises, and live according- 
 " ly." This, however, Avas not introducing the 
 worship of new gods. 
 
 Having distinguished the crime oVtmpicty into 
 three kinds, viz. the maint:iining that there are no 
 gods, that tliey take no caie of human affairs, or 
 that they are easily appeased by sacrifices, (De. 
 Leg. Lib. 10.) he prescribes the following punish- 
 jnent for the different degrees of guilt in this re- 
 spect. 
 
 *' If a man neglect the gods by omitting sacrifi- 
 '• ces and despising oatiis, he must be punished, 
 ** lest he make others like himself. There are ma- 
 *' ny who deceive others in this manner, deserving 
 ' ' to die more than one or two deatlis. Others de- 
 '' serve only castigation or imprisonment. They 
 " who tliink that the gods neglect human affairs, 
 " and they who think them easily appeased, are not 
 *' to be confounded. They who think so not from 
 " any bad principle, but a kind of madness, should 
 *' be imprisoned not less than fn e years, widiout 
 " any citizen being allowed to go near diem, except 
 '* those who will admonish them of tlieir eiTors. If 
 
 " after 
 
OF PLATO. 139 
 
 "after this they contmue m their impiety, they 
 " must be punished with death." 
 
 *' Some who are obstinate in these opinions, and 
 "■ draw many after them, especially the common 
 *' people, whole families, and tlie state," meaning 
 no doubt, the danger of influencing die whole state, 
 *' should be confined in prisons surrounded by the 
 ** sea, where no free person should have access to 
 *' them, and when they die, they should be buried 
 " without the bounds of the state ; and if any per- 
 " son should bury them, he should be accounted 
 *' guilty of impiety. If he had children, they should 
 *' be taken care of by the state from the time that 
 " the father was condemned." 
 
 " There should also be a general law to prevent 
 " any person from making what gods, or what sa- 
 *' cred rites, he pleases ; and for this reason no per- 
 *' sons should have chapels for Avorship in their o\mi 
 *' houses, but perform their worship in public, and 
 " be punished like they do so. If any person, not 
 •' from childishness, but from depraved impiety, 
 *' act in this manner, by sacrificing either in private 
 " or in the public worship of the gods, let him be 
 " condemned to death as impure ; and let the re- 
 *' gulators of the laws judge concerning the mo- 
 *' lives of liis conduct." (De. Leg. Lib. 10.) 
 
 So 
 
I'lO OF THE rillLOSOPHy 
 
 So intolerant were the \\iscst and best disposed 
 of all tlic heathens widi respect torclij^ion, that \vc 
 cannot wonder at the dread diey entertained of 
 chi-istianity, u hen it began to spread, as it was ac- 
 cording to their ideas, the hciglit odmpicfy ; aim- 
 ing at nothing less than the overthrow of every 
 thing that was deemed the most sacred, and ^^•hat 
 had been established from time immemorial, and 
 on V hich it was universally tiiken for granted Uiat 
 the well being of ever}- state depended. 
 
 But Christ was fully aware of this difficulty, and 
 he apprized his followers of it. He enabled them, 
 however, to overcome it, though they were for- 
 waiTiedduit they should be hated of a// men for the 
 sake of his name, that is, merelj- for being christi- 
 ans, and that they who killed them would think t/iey 
 didGod sennce ; which was actually the case, both 
 with respect to Jews and heathens. And great as 
 this obstacle was, which made all that was powerful 
 in the world the enemy, of Christianity it finally 
 triumphed ; and it is now the prevailing religion in 
 all those countries in which Jupiter, Juno, and 
 numberless odier objects of heathen worship, Mere 
 most revered, but whose names are now to be 
 learned from history only. This is an argument 
 of peculiar importance with respect to the e\ idence 
 
 of 
 
OF PLATO. 141 
 
 of Christianity, but can only be felt and undci-stocd 
 by those who are acquainted with the opinions 
 and prejudices of the heathens at the time of iis 
 promulgation. And these opinions and prcju- 
 dices appear now to be so unreasonable, and 
 extraordinary, that a faithful account of them is 
 barely credible- That Plato was both sensible 
 of the great ignorance of the common people on the 
 subject of religion, and of the Iiazard that might be 
 the consequence of informing them better, appears 
 from his saying (Timseus.) " It is a difficult thing 
 " to discover the nature of the creator of the uni- 
 *' verse, and being discovered, it is impossible, to 
 " expose the discovery to vulgar understandings. 
 
 This intolerance in matters of religion is the more 
 extraordinary in the case of Plato, as he acknow- 
 ledges the imperfection of the popular religion 
 when it was first instituted in Greece, and com- 
 mends those statemen who improved it, in order tQ 
 do more honour to their gods ; and as he con- 
 demns such poems as these of Homer and Hesiod, 
 because they led persons, and especially young 
 persons, to entertain unworthy notions of their 
 gods ; when it must have been evident to himself, 
 and every one else, that the popular religion, which 
 he wished to perpetuate, was founded altogether on 
 those rerj^ notions. Hesiod and Homer did not 
 
 Ht 
 
142 OF THE PHILOSOPHV 
 
 make a religion for the Greeks, but onl}- made uge 
 of what they found uni\ersally received to embel- 
 lish their poems, and to please those before whom 
 they were to be recited. 
 
 So much was Plato offended at these poems, and 
 all others of the same nature and tendency, that he 
 excluded them all, without exception, from his 
 commonwealth, though he A\ould retain such 
 hymns as were composed in honour of the gods* 
 But even the hymns, if they resembled those ascril^- 
 ed to Homer, or those of Callimachus, are similar 
 to the poems of Hcsiod and Homer, repeating the 
 same popular and absurd stories. " We reject," 
 he says (De. Rep. Lib. 2.) " poems from this 
 " commonwealth, because they deceive men, as 
 *' Hesiod by his accounts of Coelum and Satuni ; 
 *' which, if they were true, ought to be concealed 
 *' rather than divulged. For it must not be told a 
 " young man, that the greatest ciimes may be 
 " committed without any thing extraordinar}-hap- 
 " pening, or that a man who punishes an offending 
 " parent docs no wrong, but what the greatest and 
 " best of the gods have done. The imitation of 
 " the poets," he says, (Dc. Rep. Lib. 3.) *' at- 
 " tended to in early years affects the morals and 
 " nature itself, with respect to the body, the 
 *' speech, and the \'Xiry thought." This 
 
OF PLATO. 143 
 
 This is the more extraordinan^ in Plato, as he a- 
 sci ibes to tlie poets a real ins-^piration, the same that 
 was generally ascribed to the priestesses of Apol- 
 lo at Delphi (Meno.) " Poets who" he says, " re- 
 *' scmble the Coi-}bantes, \\ ho are seized with a di- 
 " vine afflatus, and knoAV not w hat they do. They 
 " are the' intei-preters of the gods." (lo.) 
 
 Section III. 
 
 Of the Human Soul. 
 
 The sentiments of Plato concerning the human 
 soul are by no means clear and distinct, nor are 
 they pursued by him to their natural consequences, 
 as they uerc by the stoics afterwards. 
 
 Matter was always acknowledged to be incapa- 
 ble of any kind o{ action, and was always thought 
 to be acted upon ; whereas the igneous nature of the 
 soul was supposed to give it natural activity. A- 
 greeable to this, Plato says (De. Leg. Lib. 10.) 
 " The soul has the power of moving itself." 
 
 He is not uniform in denying what was called 
 passion to the mjnd. He must, therefore, mean it 
 in a gross sense when he says (De. Leg. Lib. 10.) 
 *' Where there is passion, there must be gcnerati- 
 
 " on ; 
 
144 or THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " on ; and this applies to the body ," meaning, no 
 doubt that where ^hcrc is generation, there must be 
 a succession of beings produced from one another, 
 that the death of some may make room for others ; 
 whereas mind is incapable of any such thing, and 
 consequently of that kind of passion which leads to 
 it. It must, therefore, be immortal, and in this 
 doctrine Plato is perfectly uniform and consist- 
 ent. 
 
 " Every soul," he says (Phcednis.) " is im- 
 " mortal. That \\ hich is always in motion is from 
 •' eternity, but that v^ hich is mo^•ed by another 
 " must have an end." Accordingly he mention- 
 ed the pvc-exhtcnce^ as well as the iTmnonality^ of 
 tlie soul ; and in the East these two doctrines al- 
 ways went together, and are al\\ays ascribed to Py- 
 thagoras ; the soul and the body being supjTOsed to 
 have only a temporary connection, to ans\ver a par- 
 ticular puq:!0£e. " The soul existed," he says 
 (De. Leg. Lib. 10.) " before bodies were produc- 
 *' ed, and It Is tlie chief agent in the changes and 
 " the ornament of the body." 
 
 Agreeably to this doctrine of pre-existence, Pla- 
 to maintained that all the knowledge we seem to 
 acquire here is only the recollection of what ^\e 
 
 knew 
 
or rLATo. 145 
 
 knew in a former state. '* It belioves man," he 
 says (Phoedrus.) " to understand how many sensati- 
 ** ons are united in one, and tliis is the recollection 
 *' of what the soul, when in a state of perfection 
 " with God, saw before." 
 
 So greatly superior, in the idea of all the heathen 
 philosophers, was the soul to the body, the latter 
 being intirely subservient to tlie former, that we can- 
 not wonder that they consider the soul as the \\hole 
 se/fof a man, and the body as a thing foreign to 
 him. "The mind," Plato says, (De. Leg. Lib. 
 12.) '* is all that we call oursehcs, and the bodv 
 ■*• attends it: meaning as a servant. It is only af- 
 " ter death," he says (De. Rep. Lib. 10.) " when it 
 " has got rid of the clog of the body, that we can 
 
 "see what the soul really is; whetlxi?r cbm- 
 
 *' pound or simple, and the whole of its condition." 
 It is on this supposition of the independence of tlit? 
 Jriind on the body, that he advances one of his ar- 
 guments for the immortality of the soul. " The 
 *' soul," he says, (lb.) " cannot die b}^ any affecti- 
 **■ of the body, but only by some disorder peculiar 
 *' to itself. The soul by the death of the body 
 ** does not become more unjust, and the death of 
 *' the body is not the punishment of its injustice, 
 *J but other punishments. For death is to it a free- 
 
 K, " dom 
 
14G OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " dom from every evil. Since, then, neither the 
 " death of the body, nor its own depravity, can 
 *' destroy the soul, it must be immortah" 
 
 That the souls of men arc emanations from the 
 Su])reme Being, the fountain of all intelligence, 
 seems to ha^•cbeen taken for granted by Plato, but 
 I do not find it distinctly expressed in any part of 
 his writings. He seems, hov.ever, to allude to it 
 in a passage that I quoted before. But he general- 
 ly cop.siders it as retaining its individuality after 
 death; as when he says (De. Leg. Lib. 12.) " In 
 *' ti'uth the soul of each of us is immortal, and 
 *' goes to the other gods, to give an account of its 
 " actions." Thio agrees with his uniform lan- 
 guage about the rewai"ds of virtue, and the punish- 
 ments of vice, after dcadi. Whether souls are to 
 be reunited to their source afterwards, which he 
 probably supposed, as being held to be die necessary 
 consequence of their being originally derived from 
 it, this retribution he must huAC thought \\ ould 
 previously take place. 
 
 \Vith respect to the threefold dhision of man ^ 
 a doctrine held by later philosophers, I do not find 
 any Uiing clear, or consistent, in Plato. And the 
 term (ijyux'?) which in other writers signifies die 
 mere animal principle in man of which they partake 
 
 in 
 
or PLATO. 147 
 
 common with the brutes, he appHcG to the highest 
 principle, that oi intdUge?ice in him, when he says 
 (Alcib. 1.) " The body is not the man, but the soul 
 {ijvxn) which makes use of, and commands, the 
 body." 
 
 Section IV. 
 
 Of Plrtiies and Vices 
 
 On the subject of mrtuc and "oice it may be tak- 
 ken for granted that the sentiments of Plato were 
 not, in general, different from those of Socrates ; so 
 that it is unnecessary to make quotations from his 
 writings recommending the practice of virtue, and 
 dissuading from that of vice. His" belief in the 
 being and providence of God, and in a future state 
 of retribution, must have laid a foundation for pie- 
 ty, and the practice of virtue in general, if what he 
 advances on those subjects were his real senti- 
 ments ; and the frequency with v.hich he uro-es 
 them, and the stress that he lays upon them, makes 
 it difficult to believe that diey wqvq not. 
 
 In these respects he comes nearer to the doctrines 
 of revelation tlian any other of the heathen philoso- 
 phers that came after him, even than Socrates him- 
 self. But his arguments in proof of the immortai- 
 K 2. itv 
 
i4S Of THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 itv of the soul, and also those for a future state, ar« 
 so weak, and tliey made so little impression on 
 those diat eup.ie alter him, ihiit it is barely possible 
 that he could have been influenced by them him- 
 self; and his writings in general have much die 
 air of being calculated to plciise the generality of 
 his countnmcn, with whom those opinions wer? 
 in some sense popular, and to ^hom they would, 
 of course, tend to recommend him. And it is evi- 
 dent f)om his histor}- that he was much more desir- 
 ous of general applause than his master. On this 
 accoui^.t there will ah\a}s remain some doubt with 
 respect to the real sentiments of Plato on these im- 
 portant subjects. Judging of him by his WTitings, 
 we Ctinnot wonder that his philosophy was held in 
 such high estimation b}' many of the more learn- 
 ed of the eaily christians, and that they embraced it 
 in preference to any other. 
 
 With respect to the proper objects of men's 
 pursuits in life, Plato says (Philebus) Uiat " nei- 
 " thcr pleasure, nor wisdom, ai'C to be ranked with 
 " thiiigs diat are absolutely good^ because ^\hat is 
 *' good is perfect, and sufiicient of itself,'* A\hieh, 
 he observes Mill not apply to ehher ofthem. But he 
 M as far from entertaining the exu-avagant opinion 
 of the Stoics, in classing bodi pleasure and pain a- 
 
 mong 
 
OF fLATO. 149 
 
 mon^the things that are absokitely indifferent, un- 
 worthy of the attention of a wise man, and incapa- 
 ble of affecting him. , -.^ 
 There are three remai'kable exceptions to the 
 moral maxims of Plato, in which he would not 
 have had the concun'ence of Socrates, viz. his re- 
 commending a community of women in his com- 
 monwealth, his approbation of perjuiy m matters 
 of love, and in the licentiousness which he would 
 allow soldiers on a militaiy expedition. 
 
 How little must Plato have known of human 
 ^lature, and human life, when he recommended a 
 community of women in his republic (De. Rep. 
 Lib. 5.) and an education of them the same with 
 men and together with them, even so far as to ex- 
 ercise in the gymnasia naked ; saying that nothing 
 that was useful ouglit to be deemed shameful, that 
 in former times it w^as thought shameful for men 
 to exercise naked, but that now it was no longer so. 
 Being naturally capable of doing many of the du- 
 ties of men, such as serving their country both in 
 the army and in civil offices, they ought, he says 
 to receive an education proper to qualify them for 
 those, though they should be exempted from what 
 .w^s most laborious in any of those offices. By 
 
 K 3. -thi? 
 
150 or THE PHILOSOPHV 
 
 this means, and sexual commerce being confmcd 
 to a proper age, wliich he makes to be thirl)- for 
 for men, and twenty for v\omen, a more hardy race 
 of men he says, would be produced. 
 
 These health}- women being accessible to more 
 men, he says, would have more children, though 
 this now appears to be, by a \vise providence, con- 
 tiv.ry to fact, as prostitutes have seldom any chil- 
 dien at all. The ehildien thus promiscuously 
 produced he would have nursed and educated to- 
 getlier, the stronger, howe\'er, in one place, and 
 the weaker in anoUiCr by women cngi\ged by the 
 state for that pui^pose, w ithout gi^'ing them any in- 
 timation concerning their parents. He would not, 
 howe'.cr, allow of any sexual intercourse between 
 men and their own mothers or daughters, &:c. But 
 it is not necessary to follow him through all the 
 details of so visionary and absurd a scheme. 
 
 Indeed, the objections to this scheme are so ob- 
 vious, and so numerous, that it is not wortli while 
 to enter into any serious discussion of it. I would 
 only obscne that if frequent divorces have been 
 found, as is universally acknowledged, to be attend- 
 ed with much evil, a community of women, which 
 it has always been the \ ery first step of civilization 
 to prevent, must be attendul with infinitely more, 
 and greater. With 
 
OF PLATO. 151 
 
 With how much more wisdom did our Saviour 
 forbid even divorces except on account of adultery. 
 When the change of a partner for life is considered 
 as imposiihle^ the most discordant minds>reconciIe 
 themselves to it, and live together more happily than 
 if they had the liberty to separate, ^\'hich, in that 
 case, they would >ipon every trifling disgust be 
 thinking of, and contriving ; and this being the 
 case of a whole society, jealousy, and violence in 
 every- form, would be unavoidable. 
 
 Besides, no mode of education is equal to that 
 which arises from tlie affection of parents to their 
 own childi*en, and the attachment of childien to 
 their parents. This is a source of the purest satis- 
 faction to both, and to the ver}^ close of life. And 
 what has any parent to lock to in the infirmities of 
 old age compai-able to the affection and attention 
 that he may reasona]:)ly expect from his own chil- 
 dren ? What a miserable legislator must that be, 
 who would deprive mankind of the purest source 
 of domestic happiness for any advantage of a politi- 
 cal nature? Besides, ^vhat is the great object of all 
 true policy ; but to give men the secure posses- 
 sion of their private rights, and individual enjoy- 
 ments ? 
 
 K4. The 
 
152 »F THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 The second great objection to the moral maxims 
 of Plato is his allowing of perjury in mattera of 
 love. " The laws of God," he says, (Convivium.) 
 " allow of oaths," meaning a breach of oadis,^" in 
 " affairs of.love. God," he says, (Hippias Major.) 
 " pardons diosc \\ho perjure diemselves with re- 
 " spect to love, as if they were childi-en, and did 
 " not know what they did." It appears too that 
 the laus of Athens took no cognizance of these 
 oaths. But the Uw of God, in our scriptures, 
 makes no such distinction. It requires the strict- 
 est performance of eveiy oatli. 
 
 Plato in his books on the Republic, censures 
 with much severity the vice of Sodomy, which was 
 too generally practiced in Greece. *' We must ab- 
 " stain," he says, (Dc. Leg. Lib. 8.) " from all 
 *' commerce with males. For this is being worse 
 " than birds and beasts, among which the males 
 *' have no commerce with otlier males, but with 
 "females only; and if it be not concealed from 
 "■ both men and women, the criminal may bepu- 
 " nished by deprivation of all ci\il offices, and be 
 '* treated like a foreigner." This, however, is 
 prescribing a very mild and inadequate punishment 
 for the most abominable of crimes- 
 
 Notwithstanding, this he says, (De. Rep. Lib. 
 
 5.) 
 
or PLATO 153 
 
 5.) that "on an expedition soldiers should be al- 
 *' lowed unbounded licence both witli respect to 
 *' women and boys, as by this means they will be 
 *' more inflamed to gain the victory," meaning 
 that with the expectation of this indulgence they 
 will be more ready to enlist, and to engage in any 
 hazardous enterprize. 
 
 The laws of Moses and of God relating to war 
 are very different from this. According to them, 
 wherever men are, in peace or in war, the same 
 rules of morality are binding upon them, and the 
 same punishment awaits the infringmentof them. 
 
 Section V, 
 
 Of Deaths and the Consequence of it. 
 
 \\\ what Plato says on the subject of death, and 
 the consequence of it, we see the stress that he laid 
 on the practice of Virtue in general, though with- 
 out distinguishing particular virtues or vices ; and 
 if he may be understood litenally, his sentiments 
 are decidedly in favour of a future state of retribu- 
 tion, in which individuals will retain their separate 
 consciousness, at least till their proper rewards or 
 punishments are coijipleted. But much of what 
 K5. hfi 
 
154 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 he advances on this subject has such a mixture of 
 imagination, and of popular notions, that many 
 I^ersons enteitain doubts of his writing what he re- 
 ally thought. 
 
 *' It is impossible," he says, (Epin.) " that there 
 *' should be much happiness in this life ; but there 
 * is great hope that after death e\'er}' person may 
 " obtain the things that he most wishes for. Nor 
 " is this new, but known bodi to the Greeks and 
 " Barbarians." This is the only passage that I 
 liave found in the WTitings of Plato in w hich he 
 lays any stress on the argument from general con- 
 sent, or Uadition, in favour of the reality of a fu- 
 ture state ; and here he intimates some degree of 
 doubt, by only saying that there is great hope with, 
 respect to it. In other places he expresses more. 
 
 *' In truth," he says, (De. Leg. Lib. 12.) " the 
 " soul of each of us is immortal, and goes to other 
 *' gods, to give an account of its actions, as die laws 
 " of our countr}' express , w'hich giAes the greatest 
 " confidence to good men, and terror to die wick- 
 " ed, lest they should suffer the greatest punish- 
 *' ments after death for the crimes committed in 
 " this life. A happy man," he says, (Epin.) " will 
 '^ learn all that he can from nature, j^i-suaded that 
 
 " thus he \\\\\ live most happily, and when he dies 
 
 "he 
 
OF PLATO. 155 
 
 ** he will go to a place suited to his \'irtuc ; and be- 
 ** ing thus truly initiated, and having acquired 
 " true wisdom, will pass the rest of his life in the 
 *' contemplation of die most beautiful objects. 
 " Justice is the best reward of the soul, and we 
 " should not envy it those rewards of justice and 
 *' universal virtue, which God has prepared for it 
 " in this life, or the next." " The gods," he adds, 
 " must know who are just, and who are unjust, 
 *' and must love the one and hate the other, and they 
 " wdll give to their friends every good that is in their 
 " power." (De. Rep. Lib. 10.) 
 
 Plato introduces one of his speakers in (De. 
 Leg. Lib. 10.)addi"essing a young man licentious- 
 ly disposed in the following manner. " O young 
 *' man, who think that you are o^•erlookcd by the 
 *' gods, consider that there is a seat of justice with 
 " the gods who dwell in heaven, thatthc}- ^\hoare 
 *' wicked may join the wicked, and they avIio are 
 " good may join the good, in life and in death, and 
 '' do and suifer what others like them do and suf- 
 " fer. Neither, therefore, do you , or any other 
 '' person, presume that you will be happy, so as to 
 *' escape, or brave the justice, of God. You are 
 " not overlooked by him, though you should go to 
 *' the bottom of the cartli, or ascend into the hea- 
 
 " vens, 
 
156 or THE PKILOSOTHY 
 
 '* vens, but shall suffer according to your deserts, 
 " whether here, in the infernal regions, or in some 
 *' distant place." This, however, being the ad- 
 dress of an old citizen to a young one, may be no- 
 thing more than popular language, calculated to 
 reclaim him from his \ices, which would be inju- 
 rious to die stite ; using such arguments, as whe- 
 tlitr tliought to have any A\eight b}' the speaker or 
 not, might make some impression on tlie hearer. 
 
 The state of diose who die in battle, in die ser- 
 vice of their country, Plato gives on the audiority 
 of Hesiod; saying, (De. Rep. Lib. 5.) " If Hesi- 
 ** od may be believed, they become terrestrial de- 
 *' mons, expellers of evil, and the guardians of 
 *' mankind." For this, therefore, he does not 
 make himself responsible. 
 
 In his Phoedrus Plato gives such an account of 
 the state of souls after death, widi the various peri- 
 ods of their purifications and transmigrations, as it 
 is possible he might have heard in Uic East, but 
 such as it was impossible he could be in earnest ia 
 professing his belief of. 
 
 *' Souls do not," he says, " return to the source 
 "from which they came in less than ten thousand 
 «' years. For they do not recover their wings till 
 
 *' that 
 
ot pr.ATO. 157 
 
 *' that time, except the souls of those- who truly 
 •< philosophize, and who love boys," (meaning 
 probably sensual pleasure in general) " and wis- 
 *' dom at tlie same time. These perform it in the 
 *' third circuit of a thousand yeai's ; if after this 
 *' they three times chuse this life, thus recovering 
 " their wings after three tliou sand years. But other 
 " souls are judged after the first term of life, some 
 " of them going to a place of judgment under the 
 " earth, to suffer according to their deserts, others 
 *' ascending to a place in the heavens suited to their 
 " merit when tliey were in the form of men. lliese, 
 *' after a thousand years take their choice again^ 
 " some the life of a brute, and again that of man, 
 " provided it had formerly been the soul of a man. 
 " For souls that have not seen truth cannot assume 
 <' that form." This particular period of three 
 thousand years Herodotus had from the priests of 
 Egypt, who said that " when the soul had gone 
 " through bodies of eveiy kind, terrestial, ma- 
 *' rine, and also those of birds, it entered again into 
 *' that of a man, and that this was accomplished in 
 *' the space of three thousand years. This ac- 
 " count," he adds, " some Greeks, whose name^ 
 " he forebore to mention, clftim as their ov/n.J* 
 
 (Lib.2.ch. 123. Euterpe.) 
 
 Still 
 
158 or THE PHILOSOrHY 
 
 Still less can we think Plato to have given any 
 credit to the following vcn- al)surd relation, which, 
 however, he recites at full length (De. Rep. Lib. 
 10.) and without intimating any doubt of its truth. 
 It is the story of one r>is, of Armenia, Avho after 
 having lain dead on the field of battle twelve days, 
 came to life, and then related what he said he had 
 seen in the infernal regions, the whole agreeable 
 to the fables of the poets, with many absurd additi- 
 ons ; as that of the soulsof particular persons chus- 
 ing to pass into the bodies of different animals, that 
 of Ajax into a lion, that of Orpheus into a swan, 
 from his hatred of women, that of Thamyris into a 
 nightingale, and that of Agammemnon into an ea- 
 gle, &:c. &;c. 
 
 As Plato's account of a future state has such a 
 mixture of fancy and fable, and so little support 
 from argument, his declaration of his belief of it 
 will admit of much doubt, as well as what he says 
 of the immortality of the soul in general. They 
 were Eastern doctrines, to this day firmly believed 
 by the Hindoos and others, though Plato gives no 
 intimation whence he had them. But excepting 
 this doubtful case of Plato himself, they never gain- 
 ed any degree of credit in the West. 
 
 How happy, then, should we think ourselves, 
 
 and 
 
OF PLATO. 159 
 
 and how thankful to God, for the glorious light erf 
 the gospel, which leaves us under no doubt or un- 
 certainty with respect to a future life in general, or 
 the different conditions of the righteous and tlie 
 wicked in it ; and especially for that most satisfac- 
 tory'^ evidence of it in the death and resurrection of 
 Jesus, as furnishing at the same time 2l proofs and 
 also a pattern of a future universal resurrection ; 
 ■\^hen all that are in the granges shall hear the voice 
 of the son of man and comeforth^ some to the resur- 
 rection of life^ and others to that of condemnation ; 
 and when all men shall receiiie according to their 
 works. "What Aveight has the mere opinion of 
 Plato, or that of any heathen philosophers, admit- 
 ting them to have been ever so much in earnest, 
 compared to this ? 
 
 We find nothing in our scriptures concerning 
 the fanciful doctrine o^ pre-existence^ or of the state 
 of souls separate from the body ; but are assured 
 that as the man dies, the whole man shall rise again, 
 with a perfect recollection of all that he had done, 
 and therefore satisfied Avith respect to the state to 
 which he will be sentenced corresponding to it. 
 And this is all that w^e are at present concerned to 
 know. It follows from this that we shall know 
 our fi'iends as well as ourselves. Jesus assured 
 
ICO OF THE PHILOSOPHY, ScC. 
 
 his apostles, that then t/iey should be nmth him 
 ivherccer he should be, and see and partake of his 
 glory y and tJiat this \^ ill also be shared by all ivho 
 believe on him through their wordy that is all sin- 
 cere christians to the end of the world. We are al- 
 so assured that all those who shall suffer with him 
 shall also reign ivith him for ccer. What ample 
 encouragement is this to a life of virtue, and how 
 will it enable us to bear all the troubles of this life, 
 and the pains of death, be they what they may, with 
 such an expectation. This is such hope and joy 
 set before us, as was set before Jesus himself, and 
 by w hich he was enabled to bear liis cross, and to 
 make no account of the shame of that ignominious^ 
 as well as painful, deatli. 
 
 OF 
 
161 
 
 b I 
 THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 of 
 A R I S T O T L E. 
 
 INTRODUCriON. 
 
 Ai 
 
 .RISTOTLE wa- the disciple of Plato, but \± 
 appears to have been greatly superior to hira, and 
 indeed to all the other Grecian philosophers, in ge- 
 nius and good sense. He had also considerable 
 advantage from having been tutor to Alexander 
 the Great, and from being assisted by him in the 
 study of nature, which was wholly neglected by 
 all the other phiiosopliers ; as they confined them- 
 selves to subjects of mere speculation, which re- 
 quires little or no knowledge of external things. 
 
 Aristotle, however, himself followed them too 
 closely in their own track ; and he seems to have 
 taken great pleasure in collecting, and confuting, 
 all tlieir sentiments ; in so much that, if he could 
 be depended upon, it would be easy to ascertain the 
 
 L. opinioni> 
 
ir)2 OF IHE rHILOSOfHV 
 
 opinions ol'ull the pliilo.soj)hcrs wlio had preceded 
 him. But he is said to have gixatly misrepresent- 
 ed tliem, in order to make it the more eas\- for him 
 to expose and confute them, which it is evident he 
 took much pleasure in doing, that his own opinions 
 might appear the more original iuid respectable. 
 Ne\ er perhaps, was so much genius employed on 
 more useless subjects tlian in all tliat we see in the 
 greater part of the writings of Aristotle. The 
 works of Thomas Aquinas, aiid the christian 
 schoolmen, are, in this respect, far inferior to his ; 
 but the subjects aie much more important, and 
 the trifling, as well as the subdety, less. 
 
 Though the reading of the disquisitions of Aris- 
 totle on theological and metaphysical subjects be un- 
 speakably tiresome, so that, probably, no person in 
 this age, who has any proper idea of the value of 
 his time, will ever read a tenth part of them , many 
 of his conclusions, and summaries, are clear and 
 striking ; far more so dian those of Plato, without 
 affecting his sublimity, the art of his dialogues, or 
 the eleg-ance of his style ; his aim seaming to have 
 been nothing more than to express his own ideas, 
 such as they were, in the most intelligible lan- 
 guage. At least, so it appears to me, notwith- 
 standing his acknowledging to Alexander, that 
 
 though 
 
or ARISTOTLE. 163 
 
 though he had published his opinions, they were in 
 fact not published, as only those ^vho had been par- 
 ticulai'ly instructed by him could understand 
 them. 
 
 This may be true with respect to some of his 
 writings, but it certainly is not so with respect to 
 the generality of them ; and of this the extracts that 
 I shall make from many of them will enable the 
 reader to judge for himself, in what he writes con- 
 cerning the Supreme Being, the human soul, and 
 the nature of virtue and vice ; which are all that, 
 in this work, I propose to consider ; as nothing else 
 in the writings of the heathen philosophers is of 
 such a nature as that it can be brought into compa- 
 . rison with the doctrine of our scriptures ; since 
 the bulk of their wTitings relate to subjects wh?ch 
 probably never entered the thoughts of luiy of the 
 sacred WTiters, and indeed were the least important 
 in themselves, being frivolous in the extreme. 
 
 It has been usual to class Aristotle amotig Ai//^- 
 is!s, and his writings, as translated and commented 
 upon by Averroes, in a later period, were the great 
 source of modern atheism and infidelity ; but I dp 
 not see any pretence for this charge in the writinf^ 
 of Aristotle himself. For in tliem the Being and 
 L 2. g-eneral 
 
164 or TIIE fHILOSOPHY 
 
 genei-al providence of God arc more distinct!}* as- 
 serted than In the vTitinp^s of Plato ; and ^hat is 
 pailic:;!arlr remarkable is, that, whereas Plato uses 
 the term God and gods promiscuously, the latter 
 never, I believe, occurs in any of the works of A- 
 ristotle, except once in his trc.-'.tLc on ricl.es :^nd 
 vice:,, in which be tvidcntly alludes to the popular 
 feligion. In all his serious m riiings he U::Cs the 
 t.c\n\ god[Bc^-) and never any otlier that implies 
 plurality. And } c t ip. tliis he w^s, not followed by 
 the stoic?, or any oth'-r philosophers. II he was 
 an athcibt, he muL>t r.ct only have concealed, but 
 have denied, and confated, his own opinions in ma- 
 nv parts of lus writings, when he had not the least 
 occasion to do it, as they ai'e not calculated, as 
 t}io:jc of Plato evidently were, for the generality of 
 readers. They ai'e also written in such a manner 
 as not to be at all inviting to readers in general, in- 
 dependently of the extreme abstniseness of tlie sub- 
 ject ; so dial they could only ha\ e been read by 
 persons well versed in the philosophy of tlie times. 
 Besides, it is of more importance to my object to 
 ascerUiin what were the opinions of tlie readers, 
 than those of the writers; and those are most likc- 
 1}' to be found in such of their w orks as were c-al- 
 culatcd for geneial use. To my object die private 
 
 senti- 
 
OI- ARISTOTLE. 165 
 
 sentiments of an}'- particular man, and such as he 
 did not think proper to divulge, or explain, arc of 
 no consequence whatever. I want to ascertain the 
 opinions of the disciples, and of tlie sect in general. 
 
 Section I. 
 
 Of the Being, the Attributes^ and the Providence, 
 of God. 
 
 The reader, I am coniident, will be surprised, as 
 well as pleased, with many passages in the various 
 writings of Aristotle, expressing his opinions con- 
 cerning the nature, the attributes, and the provi- 
 dence of God. " God," he says, (De Mundo. 
 cap. 6.) " is the most powerful Being, immortal, 
 *' and of perfect virtue, and though by nature in- 
 *' visible to all perishable things, he is seen in his 
 " works, as in the air, in the earth, and in the wa- 
 " ter , for whatever is done in them is the work of 
 " God." 
 
 He expresses his approbation (Met. Lib. xii. 
 cap. 7.) of those who say, that " God is from eterni. 
 " ty, and die best of Beings, and tliat life, and a 
 "continuance of existence, is in him." So fai* 
 was Aristode from representing God as of the same 
 
 L 3. rank 
 
1G6 «F THE PIIILOSOrHi' 
 
 rank and nature whh the hcavcnlv bodies, or from 
 piving any portion of divinity to them, that he says, 
 (De. Miindo. cap. 6.) *' Ciod conducts the stais 
 •' according to number,-' tliat is, with regu larit}--, 
 " and that on this account he may be called their 
 " Coryplioeus." 
 
 Aristotle -was even a professed advocate for the 
 unity oiGod, and as I have observed before, he ne- 
 ver, in expressing his own sentiments, uses the 
 term gods, but always that o[ God. " There is," 
 he says, (De Mundo. cap. 7.) " but one God, 
 " though he has obtained ma.. • -^ames, according 
 " to his different attributes. By the appellations of 
 " ( Z;;y ) and ( Aio: ) united is signified that in 
 him we live. He is Saturn, and Chronos, as hav- 
 ing existed from eternity. " He is iilso called the 
 *' thunderer, the gi\er of rain, {kc. It can only be 
 *' God that is to be understood in the Orphic 
 *' hymns. He is also called Fate, from thing-s pro- 
 *' ceeding in a connected series ; and Nemesis, as 
 " possessed of a divine power, which he exercises 
 *' as he pleases; Adrastias, as the cause of every 
 " thing ill nature, which no person can deceive or 
 "avoid; and iiisas, because he exists always. 
 " What is said of the P;ucoc must be explained 
 " in the same manner. Finally, God, holding the 
 
 " begin- 
 
OF ARISTOTLE. 167 
 
 ** beginning, the middle, and the end of all things, 
 *' operates according to nature, accompanied by 
 *' justice, called ( Anir,)t\\e vindicator of the di- 
 " vine law when it is violated. And lie who would 
 " obtain a happy life must be a partaker of divinity 
 "from the beginning;" meaning, that he must 
 derive it from God. 
 
 The pcjpular opinion of a multiplicity of gods, 
 Aristotle explains in the following manner, (Met. 
 Lib. xii. cap. 8.) " The heavens (ovpxv.'^) are one, 
 *' but it has been handed down to us by our ances- 
 " tors, and the antients, and left in the form of fi- 
 " gure to posterity, that these ^.r^gods, and that e- 
 ** very part of nature has divinity in it. Other 
 " things too of a fabulous nature are told to the 
 *' multitude, to induce them to obey the laws. For 
 " they say that the gods are in the form of men, 
 ** and of other animals," &.c. 
 
 Aristotle's doctrine concerning the providence of 
 God he introduces by an account of an old traditi- 
 on, which he says prevailed among their ancestors 
 and all men, that " CA^ery thing was made by God 
 " and out of God." He adds, as from the same 
 tradition, which is better founded, that " nothing 
 " can be well or safely conducted, without his care 
 ^' and providence," (De Mundo. cap. 6.) 
 
 L 4. His 
 
1G*8 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 1 1 is account of the relation tliat God bears to the 
 ■world, as its supreme j^o\'enior, is peculiarly strik- 
 ing ; considering the little light "the heathens had 
 on this most important subject. " WTiat the pilot is 
 *' hi a ship," he says, (De. Mundo. cap. 6.) " What 
 " tlie charioteer is in his chariot, w hat the prccen- 
 *' tor is in a chorus, what the laAv is in a sUite, or a 
 " general in his army, God is in the world, ^^'hat 
 '• manifold labour, motion, and care, would diere 
 " be without this." '' Whereas widi him every 
 '' thing succeeds without laboui-, ^vidiout ti-ouble, 
 " or infirmity of body. For, being situated in a 
 "steady and immoveable situation, every thing is 
 " moved at his pleasure, according to the different 
 " forms and natures of things. In this he resem- 
 " bles the law in a state, which, being immoveable, 
 " go^ems eveiy diing in the state, all the magis- 
 ^' trates having their ^oper place and province un- 
 " der it. But he is gi^eatly superior to, and more 
 " stable dian, our l^^^•s. For l>y him die whole 
 "world of heaven is administered and governed. 
 " All animals obey his laws, and even reptiles that 
 " feed upon the earth." 
 
 It w ill be seen in di<; following passiige diat Aris- 
 totle hv;d not the same, or equally just, ideas of the 
 opeiiiLtions and pro^•idencc of God that \\c are tiught 
 
 * in 
 
V: 
 
 OF ARISTOTLE. 169 
 
 ill our scriptures. " God," he says, (De. Mundo. 
 cap. 6.) *' is the preserver of every thing tliat is 
 " done in the world, and also the author of it, with. 
 <* out being affected by \\eariness, as a human 
 " workman, or an animal, and of things at a dis- 
 *' tance, as well as near. For ha^ing his scat in 
 " the highest region, from which he is called the 
 " supreme (TTra]^) those bodies which are nearest 
 " to him feel the most of his power ; but I cannot 
 '' tlijnk him concenied in things that arc low and 
 " mean ; but that rather, like the king of Persia, 
 *' he knows and acts by his agents. Tims he moves 
 " the sun, and moon, and the whole heavens, and 
 " is the author of every thing that is safe and sakita- 
 *' ry in the world. Not that he stands in need of 
 " tlie assistance of others, as he does every thing 
 " without difficulty, with a simple motion." (Dt 
 Mundo. cap. 6.) 
 
 I would observe on this, that philosophy, as woll 
 as true piety, considers every tiling in the universe 
 as, in a proper ser^, equal in the eye of God, who 
 made the smallest things as wc^l as the greatest, as 
 equally subservient to his puq^ose. Moses repre- 
 sents him as having' made by tlie cxi:rtion of the 
 same power, reptiles as \\ell as men, the grass of 
 the fields as v.'cll as die largest tt:ccs, and iill these 
 
 L 5. as 
 
170 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 as well as the sun, moon, and stars. " He said, let 
 *' them be, and they rose into existence-" David 
 represents all animals, as well as men, as equally 
 dependent upon God, even for their daily food ; 
 when he says the lions roar cuer their prey^ and seek 
 their meat from God ; t/iat fie feedeth the r aliens , 
 ^hcn they cry^ and that all creatures haiic their lJcs 
 tip unto him, and lie satisfies the desire of CDery liv- 
 ing thing. Agreeably to this, Jesus says a spar- 
 row) falls not to the ground without hiin, and it is he 
 that so beautifully clothes the lillies of the field. 
 
 So incomprehensible has the doctrine of the uni- 
 versal presence, and constant agency, of one jnind 
 been thought by the generality of mankind, who 
 are apt to judge of all intellects by tlieir own, that 
 many of the most intelligent and speculative of men 
 have thought it necessary to provide him Mith 
 some assistant, or assistants, in his extensive and 
 VcU^ious operations. Hence the origin of idolatry in 
 genenil, from its being thought absolutely impos- 
 sible that one mind should comprehend, and at- 
 tend to, e\'ery thing. Hence the ideas of Plato 
 were improved into the notion of <7 second God, the 
 (A',;^/ci',:y3>^) or immediate agent in die work of cre- 
 ation ; iind hence also die christian logos^ as a Bc- 
 ^ng separate from the deity, and the still pre\ ailing 
 
 opinion, 
 
OF ARISTO fs^ 17o 
 
 opinion, that it was not God tl 
 
 who made the world, and th^ 
 
 Aristotle, therefore, must be j 
 
 this idea, as he was not singuj 
 
 peared to many others, as well 
 
 more honourable to the Supreii ^ ^. ^_^ 
 
 him not to be immediately concerned in an}' tWng, 
 
 that is low or mean. 
 
 EA-en some christian philosophers seem still to be 
 intangledin this idea, when they speak oftlie opera- 
 tion o^ general lanvs^ as if they could relieve the de- 
 ity from any part of his immediate agency. For 
 what are laws, or general rules, in the hands of those 
 who have no power to execute them ? Why should 
 a stone, for example, move towards the earth? It 
 is said, by the law of gravity. But Vv^hat is that 
 law, or any other law of nature, without a power of 
 agency? There must, therefore, be an universal 
 agency of the author of nature through the whole 
 extent of his wj^rks, the meanest, as they appear to 
 us, as well as the greatest. And what we call ge- 
 neral laws cannot be any thing else than his general 
 mode of acting, or exerting his power and influ- 
 ence. Incomprehensible as this must ever appear 
 to us, it is not the only circumstance relating to tho 
 Supreme Being that is so. In fact, all his attii- 
 
 butse, 
 
OF THE J'HILOSoi'HY 
 1 tO 
 
 outes, aiid especially his eternal and necessary ex- 
 istence must ever be so to firjtc minds, Que is, to 
 all Beings except to liimself. 
 
 There is another work ascribed to Aristotle, not 
 now extcmt in Greek, Iwt said to ha\ e been trans- 
 lated from the Greek Into .Vrabic, and then fi"om ll:c 
 Arabic into the Latin, in which \vc now have it; 
 puq:orting to contain the doctrine of the Egjpti- 
 ans concerning God and nature, 'w hich I have not 
 yet quoted ; De secretiore parte dlvinre sapenti» 
 scrundnm .-^Qiyptios. (Lib. 11.) Indeed, it ap- 
 pears iiii^hly improbable that .Vristolle should have 
 written the whole of it, though the minuteness and 
 subtlety of the discussions contained in it \ery 
 much resemble his usual m<mner ofuriting. 
 
 Some of the sentiments in tliis work could not 
 • have been either tliose of Aristotle, or of any sect of 
 philosophers, /Eg^-ptian or others, lliat existed in 
 his time, especially what he says concerning the 
 tuord of God. " The express word of God," (Lib. 
 X. cap 19.) " is the cause of all causes, and such 
 " was the opinion of the Babylonians." " Again, 
 " the true, word of di\i«e wisdom (Lib. k'i\. cap. 
 *' 12.) is the most powerful of all. W^ho then can 
 " comprehend its majesty and power ? It is astliat 
 
 ''of 
 
OF ARISTOTLE. 173 
 
 *' of a prince. In this word every thing is to be 
 " seen, and from this all power of procreation 
 *' flows." 
 
 There are, however, two passages in this \^•ork, 
 whicli, as being sufliciently agreeable to the senti- 
 ments of Aristotle quoted abo^c, may deserve to 
 be recited. "God," he says (Lib. iii. cap. 3.) 
 " knows all things, past, present, and to come, as 
 " their maker and governor, himself remaining 
 *' without motion." This, however, is not per- 
 fectly agreeable to the sentiments of Aristotle, as 
 we have seen. The next passage is not consistent 
 w ith itself, as it represents the Divine Being as hav- 
 ing produced every thing first without any instru- 
 mentality of other beings and then with it. 
 
 " The Supreme Creator (x\rtif2x) imitates no 
 *' created being, but produces forms inimitable by 
 "any. Nor does he make use of any instrument 
 " in :his, but performs every thing by Ms own 
 " power. God, therefore, whose name be exalt- 
 " ed, produced the universe without any consulta- 
 " tion, or wandering of thought. He first produc- 
 " ed an only substance, ^•iz. the acting intellect, 
 " which he adorned with light most bright, and 
 " most excellent of all created tilings, and by diis 
 " intermediate Being the highest orb \tas produced, 
 
 " which 
 
174 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 *' which contains intelligence and souls. By tlvc 
 " siimc are changes made in the lower world." 
 (Lib. xiv. cap. 15.) The clause, ivhose name be 
 praised, introduced after the mention of that of 
 Godj is evidently not heathen, but the language of 
 a Jew, or a Mahometan. 
 
 Notwithstimding the justness of Aristotle's sen- 
 timents in general, concerning the being, and espe- 
 cially of the providence, of God, he was so entang- 
 led by his metaphysical maxims, that he did not 
 make him i\\c first 7noi;er in the universe ; but as- 
 signed this province, seemingly the most important 
 of all, to something independent of him; but to 
 this first mover he never attributes any proper in- 
 teUip;cncc. *' The first mover," he says, (Phys. 
 Lib. viii. cap. 10.) " itself simple, and immovea- 
 " ble, but moving other bodies in infinite time, has 
 *' neither parts nor magnitude ; since nothing finite 
 " can have moved in infinite time, and magnitude 
 *' cannot be infinite." To support this, he main- 
 tains at large (De Anima. Lib. i. cap. 3.) that it is 
 not necessary- that that ^vhich is the mover should 
 itself have any motion. " By a simple nod of the 
 *' first mover," he says (De Coelo. Lib. i. cap. 2.) 
 " all compound substances are moved, being tlieir 
 
 " superior and master." 
 
 But 
 
Of ARISTOTLE. 175 
 
 But it is surely difficult to form any idea of a be- 
 ing, or substance, at the same time widiout magni- 
 tude, and without motion, and also without intelli- 
 gence, whatever he meant by the nod abovementi- 
 oned ; for this he gives exclusi\'ely to God, who, 
 according to him, was active from all cternit}-. Bet 
 ing, however, satisfied that something must ha\e 
 existed from etemit}% and that whatever was moved 
 must have had boih a mover, and a beginning of 
 motion, he was necessarily led to think tliat the first 
 Being must have been immoveable ; and as he 
 must have been fi*om eternit}^, he must, according 
 to the other of his metaphysical maxim^s, have been 
 without magnitude, which he says is necessarih^ fi- 
 nite. But these were only metaphysical and vague 
 notions, which do not appear to have materially af- 
 fected his general ideas concerning the being of 
 God, his attiibutes, or his providence, on which he 
 enlarges greatly, and seemingly with much satis- 
 faction. 
 
 Section 
 
]76 OF TIfE rillLOSOPHY 
 
 Section Ilr 
 Of the human Svul. 
 
 Though Aristotle writes very largely concerning 
 the soul, and, according to his custom, proposes 
 and answers a variety of subtle questions relating to 
 it, his sentiments on the subject are by no means e- 
 vidcht, except that diey are difllrent from those of 
 Plato, who preceded him, and those of the Stoics 
 "who came after him. Indeed, on all subjects he 
 seems to ha\'e taken pleasure in differing from all 
 others, and appearing as the author of a system of 
 his own. 
 
 Though Aristotle did not, witli many other phi- 
 losophers, consider the soul as the whole of ^ mnn's 
 selfhft acknowledged it to be the principal part of a 
 man. {upyj,) " It is so," he says (De Anima. 
 Lib. i. cap, 1.) "of all animals. The intellect 
 *' (lb. Lii). iii.cap. 4.) is immiscible with the body, 
 " but the latter has its senses, as the instruments of 
 it," He did not think so meanly of the body as not 
 to be of opinion that it had some properties in com- 
 mon 
 
OF ARISTOTLE. 175 
 
 mon with the soul. " The soul," he says (De 
 Anima. Lib. i. cap. 1.) " has all its affection in 
 ** common with the bod}', as anger, gentleness, 
 *' compassion, confidence, joy, hatred, and lastly 
 " love ; because in all these cases the body suffers 
 " as well as the mind." 
 
 The motion of the iuLellcct is aluaysj^-zi^/ to con- 
 sist in thinkings so that when this operation ceases 
 the soul ceases to exist. He, therefore sa^-s, 
 (i^gypt. Lib. viii. cap. 4.) "the intellect is al- 
 " ways in motion, and an equable one." 
 
 According to a metaphysical distinction of Aris- 
 totle, and I believe peculiar to him, every substance 
 consists o^ matter und/bn?!. " What then," says 
 he " is the essence of the soul" (iEgypt. Lib. xii. 
 cap. 13.) " If it is said to he form, it is said wisely 
 " and rationally, being part of the compound, and 
 " not the whole." These two last quotations are 
 from that work of Aristode \\'hich I have observed 
 to be of doubtful authority. I find, howc\er, a 
 better (though the account is not so clear) in hia 
 (De Anima. Lib. iii. cap. 4.) where he says, 
 " They think jusdy who are of opinion that the 
 *' soul is to be classed v.ith forms. It is not, howe- 
 " ver, wholly place, but intellectual, nor does it con- 
 ** sist in act J but in the pozvcr of the forms. ' ' This 
 
 M. Ust 
 
176 or THE PHiLosoriiv 
 
 last expression is lo me wliolly unintellit^iblc. 
 But the opinion that tlie soul is the form of the bo- 
 dy, whatever was reuiiy meant f)y it, was the eom- 
 mon luns^uage first of the christian Aristotelians, 
 and tlicn of unbelievers, on the revival of the Aris- 
 totelian philosoj)hy in the West. It was condemn- 
 ed at die twelfth council of Lateran. 
 
 Like all other philosoi)hers, Aristotle considered 
 the soul as consisting of difterent parts, each ha\ing 
 its peculiar functions. " Nodiing," he says (Dc 
 Anlma. Lil). ii. cap. 2.) "is verv^ clear concerning 
 " the intellectual ch- contemplative part of the soul ; 
 ^' but it seems to be another kind of soul, and that 
 " ihis is separable" (meaning from its other facul- 
 ties) " immortal, and incorruptible. The soul" 
 he says," is divisible (Mag. Mor. Lib. i. cap. 5.) 
 " into two parts, that which has reason, and that 
 " wliich is M ithout reason, (which he must have 
 " learned from the Pythagoreans.) In the part which 
 " has reason, are die virtues of prudence, wisdom, 
 " genius, memory, &.c. but in the part which has not 
 " rcasop, temperance, fortitude,, justice, andwhat- 
 " ever else is praise wordiy in the class of \'irtues ; 
 " sinceonnccountof these we aie deemed worthy of 
 " praise." Here he gives to a part of the soul the 
 same pro^^rties that odier philosoplicrs more gene- 
 
 mllv 
 
OF ARISTOTLE. 177 
 
 rally give to the animal part of man, of which, how- 
 ever, he makes no distinct mention, though he docs 
 of another part, which he calls vegetative ^ not ac- 
 knowledged by any others; who in their defiinitions 
 of man never descend lower tlian the principle of 
 animal nature. "A part of the soul,'' he says 
 (De Anima. Lib. ii. cap. 2.) " we call vegative, 
 *' of which plants partake, for the soul is (ao%>/) 
 ** the principle of all vegetative, sensation intellect 
 *' and motion." 
 
 What Aristotle is represented as savino- in the 
 doubtful treatise mentioned before, fa\'ours the 
 idea which prevailed at the revival of his philosophy, 
 of a common princ'ipk 0/ life and motion^ tho' not di- 
 rectly, of intelligence^ pervading all nature, and re- 
 solvable into its source at the death of each indivi- 
 dual. "Plants and animals," he says (/Egypt. 
 Lib. viii. cap. 2.) *' besides that soul which is pe- 
 " culiar to each, enjoy the life of the common soul ; 
 *' because they cannot gi\e aliment to others witli- 
 ** out paiting with their own lives. The first au- 
 " thor of form," he says (lb.) " gave reason to the 
 " common soul." He even says that this is the 
 principle of life ^ though he does not call it a soul. 
 It is in all the elements, " in fire, air, and water." 
 Here however he allow s a separate individual soul 
 M 2. to 
 
178 or THE piiii.osopiir 
 
 to each, bcbldcs a piirticipalion in the common 
 soul. 
 
 The docti-'rnc of tlic fnc- existence of souls and of 
 their descent into mortal bodies, I do not find men- 
 tioned in any of the genuine writings of Aristotle ; 
 but it is mentioned in the doubtful treatise quoted 
 above, in the exordium to which he says (/Eg}pt. 
 Lib. i. cap. 1.) *' Wc shall then describe the de- 
 " scent of souls into bodies, and their ascent." 
 But I do not fuid that he does this in any part of 
 this treatise. 
 
 Concerning the state of the soul, or of die man, 
 after death, Aristotle is nearly silent ; and what he 
 docs say, or rather hint, is expressive of much 
 doubt. " If any thing," he says (De Moribus. 
 Lib. i. cap. IL) " be enjoyed by the dead, AvheUicr 
 *' srood or ca il, it must be very little, either in it- 
 ■^^ self, or to them; not suflicicntto make them 
 " happy or unhappy, who were not so before." 
 This w ith respect to the souls, or the shades, of 
 the virtuous, is pretty nearly the sentiment which 
 Homer puts into the mouth of Achilles in the Ely- 
 sian fields ; ^^ ho says, he had rather be a slave to 
 the meanest person upon earth, than king of all in 
 the regions below. 
 
 Section" 
 
OF ARISTOTLE. 173 
 
 Section III. 
 Of Happiness^ and of Virtue and Vice. 
 
 Aristotle's ideas of happiness, and of things that 
 should be classed among goods or ciiih^ are very 
 different from those of the Stoics who came after 
 him, and, as may be inferred from what he says, 
 those of many who preceded him; but they are 
 far more agreeable to reason and die common sense 
 of mankind- 
 
 In consequence of his making more account of 
 the body dian other philosopers of his time did, lie 
 justly observes (De Moribus. Lib. i. cap 4.) that 
 '^' if good be one^ which he sa}*s is the common opi- 
 " nion, or a thing separate from c\Try other, and in- 
 " dependent of every other, it cannot be procured 
 '■'■ by man, or depend upon any actions of his. 
 *' Some kinds of good," he says, (Mag. Mor. Lib. 
 i. cap. 3.) *' relate to the soul, and the \irtues, and 
 *' some to the body, as health, beautv, and other ex- 
 " ternal things, opulence, &c. It is agreed by 
 *' all," he says, (Eudem. Lib. vi. cap. 13.) " that 
 " grief (Autt;?) is an evil, and to be avoided. For 
 " whatever is to be a\'oided is an evil, and ^vhate\'cr 
 M3. "is 
 
180 OF THE I'HILOSOPHY 
 
 " is to be pursued is a good. It is not easy" he 
 fiirtlier says, " for him to be completely happy, who 
 *' is either remarkably deformed, or of mean condi- 
 " tion, or \'. ho lives a solitary life, or is without 
 " children ; and much less if he have clUldren that 
 " are very profligate. Some, therefore, place hap- 
 *' piness in outward prosperity, and some in virtue. 
 " He, therefore, must be pronounced happy, who 
 *' is both virtuous, and possessed of external 
 " goods." (De Moribus. Lib. i. cap. 9 and cap. 
 il.) In this opinion he would now, I believe, 
 have the general concurrence of mankind. 
 
 On the subject o^ virtues and vices, the ideas of 
 Aristotle are peculiar to himself, but he was cer- 
 tainly at liberty to make his o^^Tl definitions, tliough 
 this may lead to mistake when they are different 
 from those that are commonly received. 
 
 NoAv virtue is, I believe, universally considered 
 .ns the property of the soul, independent of any thing 
 relating to the body, and only on the will and inten- 
 tion, arising from the inward disposition of tiic 
 mind. But it is not so \; ith Aristotle. He consi- 
 ders every circumstance that is reputable, and that 
 makes a man appear to ad\antage in the eyes of 
 others, as a virtue, (api/j;) and e\ery thing that is 
 disreputable, as a vice. His general definition (Dc 
 
 \'irlutibus.) 
 
OF ARISTOTLE. 181 
 
 Vlrtutibas.) is that whatever is commendable is 
 virtuous, and vice tl\e contrar3\ 
 
 Thus, under the head of liberality, besides what 
 we call generosity, he includes " neatness in dress, 
 " elegance in a house,'"' and this, he says, " with- 
 *' out any regard to utility. He also is to be classed 
 " amongthe liberal who keeps animals forpleasurCj 
 " or for the sake of being admired." 
 
 After mentioning Plato's division of the soul in- 
 to three parts, he assigns the virtues peculiar to 
 each of them. *' Of the ?'atwnal part of man," he 
 says, " the virtue is prudence, of the animal 
 ** {Bvfx.osi'^cva-} the virtues are gentleness, and forti- 
 " tude ; of the concupiscible part, {sTn^^y^.y.ov) 
 *' the virtues of temperance and continence ; and 
 " those of the whole soul are justice, liberalitv,and 
 '^ magnanimity." (De Virtu tibus et Vitiis.) I do 
 not, however, find the abo^ e mentioned division 
 of the faculties of the soul in the works of Plato. 
 
 Aristotle's ideas of justice were much more ex- 
 tensive than those of most other philosophers, or 
 perhaps those of statesmen. " The first justice," 
 he says) (De Virtu tibus) respects the gods ; the 
 *^ next the demons ; then those relating to our coun- 
 " try and our parents, and the last the dead, in 
 M 4. " which 
 
182 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " V. lilch is included piety, ^\hich is either a part of 
 "justice or Ibllows it." 
 
 This is the only passage in the works of Aristotle 
 in \\l,l(h mention is made of gods^ and here he 
 evidently means such gods as were ackno\\Iedg- 
 ed L) his countiy. However, the neglect or con- 
 tempt of these rites of worship, whatever they were, 
 he Mould hiue punished. "It is injustice," he 
 adds, (lb.) "to violate the custom and institution 
 " vA our eountiy, and not to obey the laws and the 
 " magistrates." 'J'his includes the principle of 
 persecution for religious opinions and practices, 
 which Aristotle, no doubt, held, in common with 
 all the pliilosophers and magistrates of his time, so 
 that notiiing better cotild reasonably be expected of 
 him. 
 
 Thus we have seen the result of the speculation, 
 and laborious researches, of the most acute and sa- 
 gacious of all die Grecian philosophers, of a man 
 who, with respect both to genius and industr}-, may 
 be classed among the first of mankind, on these most 
 important subjects. Rut notw iihstanding maiks of 
 superior good sense, and discernment, in the writ- 
 ings of Aristotle, we do not find in them any real 
 advance in theological or moral science. And as 
 to any /;/Y7C/ic<;///^^ of his doctrines, it appears to be 
 
 something 
 
OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 183 
 
 something less than the world was in possession of 
 before. 
 
 As to the great object of heathen philosophy in 
 o-eneral, which was to enable men to bear tiie e\ils 
 of life, and the fear or the pains of death, he never, 
 tliat I recollect, so much as mentions the subject; 
 but treats of generation and dissolution merely as 
 natural phenomena, to be explained upon physical 
 principles, but he never regards them in a moral 
 light. On tlie consequence of death, and a state 
 of retribution after it, he is likewise \\ holly silent ; 
 probably from not believing any thing either of the 
 notions of the vulgar, or the refined speculations of 
 Plato. Had the subjects been much upon his 
 mind, he must have treated of them, and \^iih seri- 
 ousness, as in themselves highly interesting to him- 
 self; as well as to the rest of mankind. 
 
 What is peculiarly remarkable in Aristotle, is 
 tliat though he reasons much, and disputes with 
 wonderful subtlety, he seems to have fch nothing. 
 He never expresses himself with any warmth, or 
 any degree of sensibility, when he is treating of th.c 
 most important subjects ; but writes concerning 
 God, and the soul, and of ^'irtue and vice, with as 
 much coolness as he describes his plants and ani- 
 mals. How different, in this respect, as well as m 
 M 5. rnunv 
 
184 OF THE riiii.O'^orn V 
 
 many otliers, arc the vritin!:^ of Aristotle from the 
 Psahns of David, the writings of the prophets, and 
 other devotional and moral aiticlc^ in the books of 
 scripture, penned by men of no uncommon ability 
 of any kir.d, but deeply impressed with the impor- 
 tance of the subjects on which they write, and hav- 
 ing more knowledge of them. They know infi- 
 nite! v more of God, and of his constimt attention to 
 the affairs of men, individuals as well as nations, and 
 therefore they write as if they were really sensible 
 ofhis presence with them, and his unremitted at- 
 tention to them, as the proper author of all the 
 good and evil that fell to their lot. They regarded 
 him not only as their moral governor, and final 
 judg(\ but as their father, and their friend; and 
 thence were led to address themselves to him on 
 all interesting occasions. 
 
 What is there, in this respect, in all the heathen 
 Amtings to compare with tlie language of the 
 Psalnis ? To quote a few vei'scs out of thousands, 
 I shall just transcribe the beginning of the 116th. 
 Psalm. / loi:e the Lord because he /tos lieavd my 
 Toice, and tny suppl'i cations. Because he has inclin- 
 ed his ear unto fiie, therefore will I call upon him as 
 long as I five. 7 he sorrows of death compassed nu\ and 
 the pains of hell got /i/)ld upon mc. I found troubk 
 
 and 
 
or ARISTOTLE. 185 
 
 and sorroiVj then called I upon the name of the 
 Lord, Lord I he seech thee, dclhcr my soul. fcrV. 
 
 I am tempted to add the begimiing of the 139th 
 Psalm. Lord thou hast searched me and hiovjn 
 Trie. Thou knoivest my down sitting and my upris- 
 ing. Thou iinderstandest my thoughts afar off. 
 Thou compassest my path, and my lying doivn, and 
 art acquainted with all my ways. 'For there is not 
 a word in my tongue, but lo, Lord, thou know est 
 it altogether. Thou hast beset me behind and be- 
 fore, and laid thine hand upon me. Such knowledge 
 is too wonderful for me. It is high, I cawiot at- 
 tain unto it. 
 
 This is language that comes from the lie art ^ im- 
 plying a feeling sense of the intimate ];)resence, and 
 constant inspection, of God, naturally producing a 
 direct address to him, which does not ajjpcar ever to 
 hvive been made by any of the philosophers. Their 
 feelings, therefore, must have been vcr}'^ diftcrent.* 
 Supposing them to ha\e been the same in kind, 
 diey must have been unspeakably different in de- 
 gree. Their acknowledgment of the universal 
 presence of God must have been mere speculation, 
 and rested, as we say, in head, but ne\er reached 
 the hearf. But this strikes us in every psahn of 
 David. O F 
 
186 
 
 OF THE 
 
 STOICAL PHILOSOPHY OF 
 MARCUS ANTONINUS 
 
 AND 
 
 E P I C T E T U S. 
 
 i PIE Stoic philosophy the founder of which was 
 Zcno, \\ ho flourished about three hundred ycai-s be- 
 fore Christ, and a litdc after Arisrotle, ai-ose a con- 
 sidcrahle time after Socrates, and it is on se^ eral 
 accounts the most respectable of all the heathen 
 systems, especially as it regai ds the being and pro- 
 vidence of God, and the submission we owe to it, 
 patience in adversity, and resignation to death. It 
 was soon opposed by the doctrine of Epicurus, 
 vhich m^dc pkasurc, though not sensual pleasure, 
 but rather the enjoyment of life in general, the great 
 ebject and end of human life, whereas, according 
 to the Stoics, pleasure of e\ cry kind, as well as 
 pain, is to be ranked among Uiings 'mdiffercnt, and 
 not to be attended to in the great rule of life. 
 
 AVhen the Grecian philosophy was introduced 
 
 into Rome, some of tlie most virtuous and respec- 
 table characters embraced that of the Stoic?, in pre- 
 ference 
 
OF THE rHILOSOPHY, &c. 187 
 
 ference to any other ; especially Cato, and in a later 
 period the emperor Marcus Antoninus, who vnade 
 \\ hat he deemed to be virtue, and ^^•hatevcr he 
 thought to be subservient to the good of his coun- 
 try, more an object than any other of the emperors, 
 or almost any other heathen that we read of. It 
 will, tlierefore, be well worth while to examine the 
 fundamental principles of this philosophy ; as this 
 alone can come in any competition \\\\\\ the christi- 
 an. And as the fairest specimen of it may be seen 
 in the writings of Marcus Antoninus, and Epicte- 
 tus, I shall, in this place, confine myself to the exa- 
 mination of their works, in which we may be sure 
 to find the genuine principles of it without any dan- 
 ger of mistake. Seneca indeed, and Arrian came 
 before Marcus Antoninus, and their principles 
 were those of the Stoics. But there is too much 
 of rhetoric in their compositions, especially those 
 of Seneca, whereas the writings of the emperor 
 came, no doubt, from the heart, and express nei- 
 ther more nor less than he reallv thoup'ht. How- 
 
 o 
 
 ever, I shall subjoin to this section an account of 
 the sentiments of Seneca and Arrian. 
 
 Section 
 
183 ar tjie rHiLosoPKy 
 
 Section I. 
 
 Of God mid Providence. 
 
 It was a fixed maxim w ith the Stoics, as it wvca 
 w itli Socrates, from \\hom none of the founders of 
 sects that came after him pretended to differ, tliat 
 there is a principle of intelligence, wisdom and also 
 of benevolence, directing all the affairs of the world 
 and of men, though they do not ascribe proper cre- 
 ation to it. Sometimes they even speak of it in the 
 singular number, though more generally in the 
 plural; believing that, though the principle of in- 
 telligence was one, it w as distributed to several in- 
 dniduals, and indeed to men, and all other intelli- 
 gent agents. 
 
 But none of the philosophers adopted the popu- 
 lar ideas of the gods of their countr}-. 7'hough 
 thev sometimes make use of the same navies, (and 
 this is not frequent) they had a very different idea 
 of their characters. In their writings we find no- 
 thing of the lewdness, the cruelty, and caprice of 
 the gods of Homer and Virgil ; nor do they e^•cr 
 make any apology for rejecting die notions of tlic 
 common people. This 
 
OF THE STOICS. 189 
 
 This unity of principle in all the orders of intel- 
 ligent beings would, in the opinion of the philoso- 
 phers, secure the unity of design in the whole sys- 
 tem that was subordinate to them, and governed 
 by them. " There is," says Marcus Antoninus 
 (Lib. vii. sect. 9.) " one world, one god in ail 
 *' things, one matter, and one law. Consequently, 
 " reason in all intelligent beings is the same \\\ 
 " all, and truth also is one." 
 
 He makes use, though only once, of the name of 
 Jupiter as that of the Supreme Being, when he 
 Tspeaks of the principle of intelligence in all men as 
 derived from one source. " We should live," he 
 says, (Lib. v. sect. 7.) " v/ith the gods; and this 
 *' any person \\\\\ do who preserves his mind in a 
 " disposition to acquiesce in what is appointed 
 " him, and who acts according to that genius, 
 *' which Jupiter, having detached it from himself, 
 ** gives to every person to be his future guide and 
 " commander, which is every person's mind, or 
 " reason." He evidently considered the sun as a 
 portion of the universal deity, when he says, (Lib. 
 viii. sect. 19.) " the sun, and the other gods, exist 
 " for some purpose or other." 
 
 That this universal mind has a perfect know- 
 ledge of all things, even of what passes in the minds 
 
 of 
 
190 OP THE fHlLOSOPHY 
 
 men, was the belief of the Stoics, as well as of So- 
 crates. " God," says Marcus Antoninus, (Lib. 
 xii. sect. 2.) " sees all minds divested of their co- 
 '* vcrings and flesh. By his own mind alone he 
 " sees them as derived from him. If you will do 
 " the same, you will be freed from much trouble.'* 
 For believing that all minds are only parts of one 
 whole, he ascribes to diem all much of the same 
 power, as we shall see more particularly hereaf- 
 ter. 
 
 He, howc\cr, takes it for granted that all good 
 and evil is the dispensation of the gods, and there- 
 fore he holds it as a fixed maxim to be th:mkful for 
 the former, and patiently to bear the latter. " I 
 ''thank God," he says, (Lib. i. sect. 17.j "for 
 ** good grandfathers, good parents, good precep- 
 " tors, good acquaintimce, domestics, and friends, 
 •* and for good of every other kind. If," siiys he 
 (Lib. vi. sect. 44.) " the gods take no care of the 
 ** world, which it is impiety to believe, why do we 
 •* sacrifice, pray, take oaths, and do other things 
 *' which suppose the gods to be present witJi us. 
 ** and attentive to us?" 
 
 The heathens in g-encral, without excepting any 
 of the philosoj^hcrs, except Epicurus, were dis- 
 posed 
 
OF THE STOICS. 191 
 
 posed to believe that the gods interposed in tlic af- 
 fairs of man, giving him admonitions, and sugges- 
 tions by drearrrs, omens, oracles, and various other 
 ways. " With respect to the gods," say Marcus 
 Antoninus (Lib. i. sect. 17.) " their suggestions, 
 *' and the aids, and inspirations that come from 
 " them, nothing hinders my living according to the 
 ** rule of nature, unless it be my fault, in not ob- 
 " serving those hints from the gods, which are 
 *' sometimes obscure." 
 
 He seems sometimes, however, to consider such 
 an order of tilings established from all eternity as 
 would render ail prayer, sacrifices, 8;c. useless. 
 ^' Whatever happens to you," he sa}'s, (Lib. x. 
 sect. 5.) " was destined for you from all eternity. 
 *' This" he says, '' v.as done, (Lib. iv. sect. 26.) 
 ** by a certain fate." And again, " the series of 
 " causes combined with one another, connects 
 ** your existence with that c^ent from all eternity." 
 This, however, is the belief of Jews and Christians, 
 and according to their ideas is not incompaiib-le 
 with prayer. But it is doubtful whether Marcus 
 Antoninus entered into the proper principle of this, 
 so as to make prayer perfectly compatible v\ ith his 
 idea of fate. It does not appear that tlie Stoics in 
 general, any more than other heathen philosophers, 
 
1^j2 of the phii.osophv 
 
 liud their minds exercised in prayer, habitiiul and 
 occasional, in die manner of|)ious Jews aiid Chris- 
 tians. Wc shonlel oUieruisc have had more of 
 iheir devotional compositions, similar to those ot 
 tlie psalms of David, and other forms of prayer that 
 occur in the hooks of scripture. The difl'ere^ce 
 between die heatliens and the believers in revelati- 
 on in this respect is so striking as I observed before, 
 as proves a veay different state of mind with respect 
 to a God and provielencc, whatever may be inferred 
 to the contrary from occasionid expressions in their 
 writings. 
 
 That every thing diat was appointed and direct- 
 ed by the Supreme Being is right, Marcus Antoni- 
 nus never doubted. *' If there be a God," he says, 
 (Lib. ix. sect. 29.) ** every thing is right." Ac- 
 cording to him, diis made the existence of any 
 thing properly evi/ absolutely impossible. *' No- 
 " thing,'" he savs, (Lib x. sect. 6.) " can be hurt- 
 *' ful diat is good for the \\hole; and eveiT thing^ 
 '' in the universe nuist be good for //. This is 
 ** common to the nature of every thing, and the 
 "world must have it in the greatest degree, be- 
 " cause tliere is nothing external to itself to force 
 " any thing noxious upon it." This considerati- 
 on is with us also an argument for the unchangea- 
 ble 
 
OF t:!e stoics. 193 
 
 ble goodness, and other attributes, of God, tliv. evi- 
 dence of which we see in the works of nature. We 
 say that, since there are evident marks of bcncvo- 
 Icnce ill what wc experience and see around us, a 
 principle of nialeiiolence ^ which is opposite to it, 
 cannot be admitted. E>'ery thing, therefore, must 
 have been designed for the best, A\hether at present 
 we can see it to be so or not. And as there is no- 
 thing in nature superior to this bcncvolcnit su- 
 preme intelHgence, this system, tendin.g iu all re- 
 spects to good, must be perpetual. 
 
 That this system is in a progressive state of con- 
 tinual improvement was not the doctrine of the 
 Stoics. It was rather their opinion that, after a 
 certain period, every tiling would return to the 
 state in which it had been before ; so that nothing 
 would be gained by their perpetual revolu lions. 
 In this their system coincided with that of the 
 Hindoos, and tlie oriental philosophers. This 
 seems to be intimated by Marcus Antoninus. 
 " We should bear in mind," he says, (Lib. ii. 
 sect. 14.) " two things, one that all things have 
 " been from eternity in a perpetual round. There 
 *' is in it no difference between seeing the sioic 
 " things a hundred years, two hundred 5ear.s, or in 
 " a longer duration," How dull and unpleasant is 
 N 2. > . thlr, 
 
1^4 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 this prospect cgjpparcd to thiit wiiich is suggested 
 ill our scriptures ; according to which nothing will 
 ( vcr r( turn to the state in \\ hich it has been before, 
 but every thing will continually advance in ini- 
 pro\ement, without, however, ever reaching pcr- 
 fcct'ion^ which must e\er be tlie exclusive preroga- 
 ti\e of the Supreme Being. 
 
 I^he duty of absolute submission to the divine 
 \^il!, and the order of nature, as coincident widi it, 
 cannot be inculcated more forcibly tlian it is by the 
 Stoics. " Man," says Marcus Antoninus, (Lib. 
 xii. sect. 12.) " should donodiingbut what God 
 " himself would approve, and he should receive 
 " \\illingly \\hatever he assigns him. \Vith re- 
 *' sptet to every thing that is agreeable to nature, 
 " the i^ods are not to be blamed, for they do nothing 
 " \\rong v.ith design." " The principal article of 
 *' piety towards the gods," says Epietetus, (sect. 
 .'>1.)'" is to have just opinions coneeniing them, 
 " as diat they exist, and administer every thing 
 *' u ell and rightly, and tliat it is our business to 
 " obey them, and acquiesce Aoluntarily in every 
 " thing that takes place, as being disposed for the 
 "best." Treating of death, Marcus Antoninus 
 says, (Lib. \\. sect. 10.) " If every thing be order- 
 •' ed by providence, I venerate the supreme niler, 
 
 " and 
 
OF THE STOICS. 195 
 
 " iind, depending upon him, am iinnyoved." From 
 '^Tiis opinion of the duty of submission to the di\ine 
 will, he excellently obsen^es, (Lib. ix. sect. 40.) 
 *' the gods either have power, or no power. If 
 " they iiave no power, why do you pray? If they 
 *■'■ have power, why do you not rather pray that you 
 " may be without anxiety about an event, than that 
 *' the event may not take place ?" This may in- 
 struct even a christian. 
 
 It was the opinion of all the heathens, from the 
 earliest to tlie latest times, that it ^vas right, and 
 even necessar\', to adhere to the religious rites o^ 
 their ancestors ; since die prosperity of the state 
 they thought depended upon it. On this princi- 
 ple, absurd and groundless as it apparently is, it 
 was that the wisest and best of the heathens acted. 
 It was on this principle that Marcus Antoninus, 
 Trajan, and some others, die best disposed of the 
 Roman emperors, wished to exterminate the chris- 
 tians, in order diat the rites of the antient religion 
 might not grow into disuse, to the endangering of 
 the state. " It is every person's duty," says E- 
 pictetus, (sect. 31.) "to ma\e libations, offer sa- 
 " orifices, and first fruits, according to the custom 
 " of his country, not sordidl}^ or negligently, nor 
 " above our means." 
 
 N3. The 
 
196 OF THE rniLOSOPHV 
 
 Tlie good sense, houcvcr, of Marcus Antoninus 
 taught him th;it thci'C might be an excess, and su- 
 perstition, in this external vvorsl.ip. For he com- 
 mends aperson (Lib. vi. sect. 30.; for l>cing " rcli- 
 *' gious without superstition." He ali>o i;ays (Lib. 
 vi. sect. 23.) " In all things pray for the divine 
 *' aid, and consider that there is no difference how 
 " long \\c are doing this. Three hours thus pas- 
 *' sed may suffice." He docs not, however, say 
 for vvliat space of time thcbc three hours would 
 suffice. 
 
 Lilic Socrates, the emperor connected the practice 
 of morality whh religion ; though widi this, the re- 
 ligious rites of states, those on which their prospe- 
 rity M as thought to depend, had no connection 
 w hatever. " It is of much consequence," he says, 
 (Lib. X. sect. 8.) "to remember diat there are 
 •' gods, and that they do not wish men to deceive 
 "them, or to flatter them, but to imitate them. 
 *' He that fears pain, (Lib. ix sect. 1.) fears what 
 " must be in the world, and this is impious; ajid 
 " he who follows pleasure will not refrain from in^ 
 "justice, which is certainly impious." 
 
 Section 
 
OF THE STOICS. 197 
 
 Section II. 
 Of the Human Soul. 
 
 Hitherto we have found the principles of the 
 Stoics what may be called sublime^ and in a great 
 degree rational, as there is but little to correct in 
 their ideas of the supreme intelligence, of his uni- 
 versal providence, or the obligation they maintain 
 that all men are under to conform to its will, and 
 acquiesce in its decisions, as necessarily right and 
 good. But we shall now find them deviating \'e- 
 r\^ far from truth and common sense, and leading 
 tliemselves and others into errors of a practical na- 
 ture, as we proceed to consider their ideas concern- 
 ing the mind of ?nan, the disposition to be cultivat- 
 ed in it, and the essentials of moral virtue. 
 
 The Stoics held the doctrine of t/ircc principle': 
 in man, viz. his body, consisting of gross matter, 
 the principle of mere animal life, called by them 
 ( TTvsvua ) or ( ijyuxr?, ) and the proper intellectual 
 principle, called {vov$.) The difference between 
 men and other animals appeared to them to be so 
 great, that they could not believe the latter to be 
 possessed of the highest principle of human nature. 
 N 4. But 
 
198 OF I HE PHILOSOrilY 
 
 But as nun have every thing that belongs to 
 brutes, in uliiclithey acknowledge some thing su- 
 perior to mere matter, they uere under a necessity 
 of making the component p:uts of man to be 
 three. 
 
 IMoreover, as they considered all matter as fun- 
 damentally the same, though forming different sub- 
 stances, they conceived die animal principle to be 
 the same in all, flowing from a common source, to 
 anim.ate particular bodies for a time, and then, like 
 the breath to whicli it A\as generallv compared, 
 mixed with the origin from which it \\as derived. 
 
 In like manner, having no idea of a proper cre- 
 ation^ i. e. out of nc! /ling, the}' considered the high- 
 est principle in man, aIz. that of intelligence, as the 
 same in all, dcri\'ed from tlic same source ; and 
 this they conceived to be tlie supreme intelligence, 
 which disposed and directs tlie affairs of the whole 
 universe, and like tlic principle of animal life, they 
 held that, being detached from Uiis source at tlie 
 bi.ili of every man, it was absorbed into it again 
 ftfter his death, as a drop of \\ater (to use a com- 
 parison that is frequent with them) is absorbed and 
 lost in die ocean. Consequendy, its separate ex- 
 istence, and separate consciousness, Uien \'anishcd. 
 
 Accord- 
 
OF THE STOICS. 199 
 
 According to this philosophy, therefore, the soiib 
 of men are so many portions of the diA'inity ; and 
 tliis led the professors of it to ascribe to them the 
 properties and powers of divinity, making them 
 sufficient for tiieir oavii happiness, independently of 
 ever}^ thing external to them. And, as the su- 
 preme intelligence is incapable of suffering from 
 evil of any kind, tiiey transferred this extraordina- 
 ry power to the soul ; maintaining that notl ing 
 foreign to itself could affect it without its own con- 
 sent, so that it is in every man's power to be com- 
 pletely htippv, whatever his outward circumstances 
 may be. 
 
 This sentiment, which has an air of great subli- 
 inity, tended to inspire the Stoics with a sense of 
 native dignity, rendering them superior to every 
 tiling mean and base; but it excluded humilit}^ 
 and many amiable and useful virtues, peculiarly 
 adapted to the state of society with beings equally 
 imperfect with themselves. Their sentiments how- 
 ever, on this subject so nearly connected with mo- 
 rals, led them to express themsehes with respect to 
 the common accidents of life in a manner that, with 
 a little qualification, is truly admirable and edify- 
 ing. But when taken literally their language just- 
 ly shocks a christian, who feels his own weakness, 
 N 5. and 
 
200 OF THE IMIILOSOrUY 
 
 and is thereby disposed to compassionate tlie weak- 
 ness luul infirmitLes of others ; the most amiable, 
 and in the present state of tlnnj^, one of the most 
 useful of all virtues. 
 
 On the subject of the different component parts 
 of man Marcus Antoninus expresses himself as 
 follows: "Man, (Lib. xii. sect. 2.) consists of flesh, 
 " the animal piinciple, {TrvsviJLuJiov ) and the go- 
 *' vernin}^ principle ( ■/j'/.-^vikov. ) The ( Trviv^oc ) 
 '* is breath, or air, {uvty.^) nor is it always the 
 " same, but is drawn in and emitted. You con- 
 " sist, (Lib. xii. sect. 3.) of three parts, the body, 
 *' the {-KVivy^ujiov,) and tlic mind, ( y:vi )• Thr 
 *' two former arc so far yours, iis that the}- are 
 ♦* committed to your care, but the third only is 
 *' properly yours." For the intellectual part of 
 man was considered as so much superior to the 
 other two, as to deserve to be alone called a nicui's 
 sc'lf. And on se\eral occasions we shall find that 
 the two other parts v\ere thought to be as much fo- 
 ixign to a man as if they did not belong to him at 
 all, an}- more than other parts of the external world. 
 
 The unity of these three elements of which every 
 man consists, is thus described by Marcus Antoni- 
 nus, "One living principle (ylivyj) (Lib. ix. sect. 8.) 
 *' is distributed to all irrational animals, and one in- 
 
 " telligcnt 
 
«r THE STOICS. 201 
 
 *' telligent living principle ( vcs^^a 4/u%i? ) to all ra- 
 " tional ones, just as to the several elements there 
 ** is one and the same earth. We all see and live 
 *• with one light, and breathe one air. There is 
 " (Lib. xii. sect. 30.) one light of the sun, though 
 *' it be distributed upon different things, one com- 
 *' mon nature, though distributed into various dif- 
 " ferent bodies, one (ipi'X'?) ) though distributed to 
 ** innumerable peculiar natures, and one intelli- 
 " gent principle ( voc-[)Cc il^wx'J ) though it seems to 
 *' be divided." 
 
 The idea which the Stoics entertained of the na- 
 tive dignity, and superior powers, of the human 
 mind flowed necessarily from their opinion of its 
 origin and final destination; but it coiresponds 
 very little with experience, and is wholly discordant 
 with the principles of revelation. " You forget," 
 says Marcus Antoninus, (Lib. xii. sect. 26.) " that 
 " the mind of every man is God, and flowed from 
 " the divinity." And again, (Lib. iv. sect. 14.) 
 " Thou art part of the universe, and will vanish 
 " into that which produced thee, or rather by some 
 *' intervening change, thou wilt be received into 
 *' die seminal reason ( Xoyov a-Tr-pfji^ocjiKc:' ) i. e. die 
 *' the source of all reason. '^ 
 
 These 
 
202 OF THE niiLOcopny 
 
 . These ideas of the great power, and natuixd in- 
 dependence, of the mind were suiuibleto the opini- 
 on of iU high ori^^in and final destination, as having 
 been original!}- part of the supreme iini\'erK^ intel- 
 ligence, and destir.ed to be alisorl^'d into it, and to 
 beeomc part of it again. " It belongs," says Mai-- 
 ciis Antoninus, (Lib. vii. sect. 55.) " to the mind 
 "to be free from error and defect. Neither fire, 
 '* nor e::tezTial violence, nor calumny, nor any 
 " thing else can reach the mind when, like a sphere, 
 " it is compact within itself (J/ib. ^iii. sect. 41.) 
 " The soul endued ^\ith reason has t!:c following 
 " powers, (Lib. xi. sect. L) it sees itself, it forms 
 " and limits itself, it makes itself whatever it pleas- 
 *' es. Whatever fruit it produces it reaps itself; 
 " whereas other persons gather the fruits of tj-ees, 
 ** and also whate\er is produced froin animals. 
 " It always gains its purpose, at \\ hatever time its 
 " life terminates ; so that it is not, as in a dance, 
 *' or a play, in which the action is sometimes intcr- 
 " nipted by incidents, and is therefore imperfect. 
 *' But wherever it is taken, wh?ct precedes is com- 
 " plete and perfect ; so that I may say, I have eve- 
 *' ry thing that belongs to me within me. Add to 
 *' diis, the mind traverses the whole world, and 
 *' what suiTounds it. It contemplates its form, 
 
 " and 
 
0¥ THE STOICS. 203 
 
 *' and lookiiii^ forward into eternity, it considers 
 *' the reno^'ation of the universe at certain inter- 
 " vals." 
 
 An essential prerogative of the mind of man, and 
 of tlie most use in the conduct of life, the Stoics 
 considered to be its coimnand of thought^ and hy 
 this means its total independence on every thing fo- 
 reign to itself; since it is under no necessit}^ of 
 giving any attention To them. " How can opini- 
 /' ons," says Marcus Antoninus (Lil). vii. sect. 2.) 
 *' be abolished, unless thoughts suitable to them be 
 *' extinguislied, which you may for tiiat purpose 
 " call up whenever you please. I can think of 
 " any thing that I have occasion for ; and if I can, 
 *' why should my mind be disturbed ?" 
 
 Thus these philosophers flattered themselves with 
 the idea of tlieir happiness being wholly indepen- 
 dent on any thing foreign to the mind, and that it 
 became them to maintain a perfect indifference to- 
 wards every thing that is die object of affection, or 
 respe.*'', to other men. " If you behave" says E- 
 pictetus (sect. 15.) *' with becoming indifference 
 " towards children, wife, the magistrate, riches, 
 ** &c. &:c. you will be worthy of being a guest of 
 " the gods; but if you can despise all these things 
 ** that are foreign to yourself, you will not only be 
 
 " a com- 
 
204 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " a companion with them, but a god \ourbclf. 
 " Thus Diogenes, Hcraclitus, and others Hke 
 *■ them, deserve to be called, and really ncre, di- 
 ** vine.''^ It is surely hardly possible to carry ex- 
 travagance and absurdity farther than this ; so far, 
 however, we see that a false philosophy, pursued 
 to its natural consequences, can cany men from 
 every thing that we aie taught by daily experience 
 aixl observation of common life. And yet these 
 vere men of deep thought and reflection, and both 
 Kpictetus and Marcus Antoninus lived in the world, 
 and had to do \\\\h men and their affairs 
 
 Section III. 
 
 Of rirtue and Ficc. 
 
 The great use of religion, and of moral philoso- 
 phy, is to furnish thg mind >\ ith proper rules of 
 life, by the observance of which we shall best se- 
 cure our own happiness, and be the most ('' nosed 
 to promote that of others, to enable us to bear the 
 evils of life with the least pain, and the prospect of 
 death without terror. On all these three heads, 
 therefore, I shall examine the merit of the Stoical 
 
 philosophy, and compare it with the christian. 
 
 The 
 
OF THE STOICS. 205 
 
 y 
 
 The dli^nified sentiments maintained by the 
 Stoics concerning the human soul lead us to ex- 
 pect great elevation of mind with respect to virtue; 
 and in this we shall no tbe disappointed, as far as vir- 
 tue in their ideas of it extended ; and it compre- 
 hended every thing that relates to the due govern- 
 ment of the passions, all the relative duties, and 
 those that affect the intercourse between man and 
 man. They also made happiness to depend entire- 
 ly on the practice of viitue, independent on any fo- 
 reign consideration, such as the fear of punish- 
 ment, the hope of reward, or the opinion of otheis, 
 expressed in praise or censure. 
 
 Marcus Antoninus, having observed tliat it is in 
 the power of man to be happy in any situation, and 
 especially in one that suits him, says (Lib. v. sect, 
 36.) " If you ask what this proper situation is, lan- 
 ** swer, that it consists in good morals, a good dis- 
 " position, and good actions. It is a pleasure to a 
 " man (Lib. viii. sect. 26.) to do what suits his na- 
 " ture, and it suits the nature of man to be kind to 
 *' his countrymen, to command die emotions of 
 *' his senses, to distinguish what is probable in 
 " what is before him, to contemplate the nature of 
 " the universe, and the things that are agreeable to 
 ** it. Do nothing" he says, (Lib. xi. sect. 18.) 
 
 " for 
 
1 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 - tlK'sakc of admiration, but be the same ^^ lieu 
 *' alone as if your were before others." For he 
 justly obscTA-es (Lib. xii. sect. 4.) " Wc fear more 
 *' what others think of us, than what we think of 
 " ourselves." Agreeable to this, Epictetus says 
 (sect. 23.) " If your thoughts be employed in ex- 
 *' temal things, and you wish to please any person, 
 '* you err from the path of life ; whereas in all ea- 
 " ses remember that you are a philosopher, and 
 " that you appear so to yourself, tliough not to 
 "others." 
 
 The Stoics carried the principle of disinterested- 
 ness to the highest pitch, beyond the bounds of rea- 
 son ornature, expecting no reward for their virtues 
 eitl!cr in this life, or any other, except the satisflicti- 
 on of their own minds ; and this was short of any 
 proper pleasurable sensation. For, according to 
 their general system, nothing of this kind ought to 
 be indulged. " When you confer a favour" says 
 Marcus Antoninus (Lib. ix. sect. 42.) *' is not this 
 "sufficient, without any i"e\vard ? Docs the eye 
 " require a reward for seeing, or the feet for walk- 
 ** ing? So man, who is made to do good, should 
 *' be satisfied w ith tlie good that he does." 
 
 These extremely rigid maxims, so much above 
 the comprehension of the vulgar, led tliein to cou^ 
 
 sider 
 
OF THE STOICS. 207 
 
 ^idcr the practice of A'irtue as the peculiar privi- 
 lege of philosophers, and real happiness asnir.ch 
 more so. For who besides philosophers could be 
 expected to despise e^■ery thing thut '^^■as foreign to 
 themselves, and to consider f^xcry thing on \\iiich 
 the comfort of life depends asinckided in tliis class; 
 and \vithoiit this there is, according to them, nei- 
 ther real ^'irtue or true happiness, as \\ ill l>e more 
 evident in the farther dcvelopement of their prin- 
 ciples. 
 
 Some philosophers vrcre poor, as Epictetus him- 
 self, who ^vas even some time in servitude ; and in 
 an age in wliich books were scarce and dear, and 
 learnini^ not easily attained, some of them m!;.^ht 
 not be able to read. In this case Marcus Antoni- 
 lius says, (Lib. viii. cap. 8.) " If you cannot read, 
 *' you can abstain from abuse, even of the ungrate- 
 *' ful, and also be kind to them. You need not be 
 *' heard to complahi of your situation, or envy 
 *' that of others." Happily, hov.cver, these vir- 
 tues and every other may be attained without phi- 
 losoph}-. 
 
 Unhappily, the Stoics considered every thing 
 that is foreign to the calm dictates of reason, ail e- 
 motions and passions, a:i belonging to mere animal 
 nature ; seeing that men have them in .common 
 
 O. with 
 
208 OF THE piiii.osonrr 
 
 •\\ilh brutes. They, therefore, thought it a pohit 
 of niai^.ianinilty and duty in man to suppress every 
 thing ofthis kind w lti» respect to others, as well as 
 themselves. Do not," says Marcus Antoninus, 
 (Lib. vii. sect. 43.) '' join others in their lamentati- 
 "ons, or l:e moved by them." Epictetus, howe- 
 ver, makes some little allowance for the weakness 
 ofhuman nature when he says (sect. 16.) " If you 
 " see a friend in distress, accommodate yourself to 
 *' him so far as to lament and gioan dong with him, 
 *' but take care that you groan not inwardly." 
 
 These maxims, I need not sa}-, are as remote 
 from the dictates of nature, as they are from die 
 precepts of scripture, which bids us to be kindly af- 
 fcctioucd one to anotJicr^ ijoith brot/icrly love, and 
 from this principle to rejoice wit/i them that rejoice^ 
 and to Tocep "cnth them that ivecp. How can men 
 be supposed to act., but as prompted by Xhtiv feel- 
 ings ? 
 
 Though Mai'cus Antoninus advises to do good 
 to a man's fellow citizens, and even to the ungrate- 
 fiil, it was not, according to his principles, to be 
 dictated by any affection, as that of Iwuc, but only 
 because it was the part of man, and became him to 
 act in this manner ; as it A\as for the eye to see, or 
 the feet to walk. Butchristiajiity knows notliing of 
 
 the 
 
OF THE STOICS. 209 
 
 the distinction of the different eomponent parts of 
 man, and the natural superiority of one of tliem to 
 the rest. Paul, though he expresses a wish that 
 his brethren might \)(t sanctified in body^ soul and spi- 
 rit^ it v/as only in allusion to the three fold division 
 of man above mentioned, which was familiiu' to the 
 Greeks, to whom he \\'as writing, desiring that, 
 ^\•hatever they considered as belonging to man, or 
 part of him, it might be sanctified, as a suitable 
 temple for the spirit of God. He was not declar- 
 ing his own principles, as a Jew, or a Christ! n. 
 
 The opinion which the Stoics maintained of the 
 superior excellence of the intellectual pn:iciple in 
 all men was such, that they considered e^•ery emo- 
 tion or passion that led to vice as foreigr. to it, as 
 arising only from the principle that is common to 
 men and brutes ; and therefore not horn anv tiling 
 that was properly a man's self. In consequence of 
 this, they professed to have no iiidignLition ag.iinst 
 tlie vices of men, but considered them like evils, 
 and inconveniences of an} other kind, at \vhlch it 
 does not become any man to be disturbed, being 
 acrreeable to the order of the nature. 
 
 . Accordingly, Marcus Antoninus having observed 
 
 that wc have no reastni to complain of the gods w ith 
 
 Q 2. respect 
 
 V 
 
210- or THE niiLOzoi'iiY 
 
 icspcct to any thlnp' that befalls us, adds(Lil). xif. 
 sect. 12.) '*' Neither arc men to Ijc complained of. 
 *' Tor nLiihcr do they ofiRnd williniijly. It is the part 
 *' of man (Lib. vii. sect. 22.) to love those who of- 
 " fend tl^.cm ; and this he will do if he recollect 
 *' that all men arc related, and that when they of- 
 " fend, it is whtn they do not know it, or do it a- 
 ** gainst their w ills. When I consider that the 
 *' person who injures m.e (Lilx ii. sect. 1.) is a par- 
 *' taker cf the same intellect, and portion of the 
 *' divinity, that I cannot be injured In' him, that he 
 *' has no pow cr to di'aw me into any thing disho- 
 *' nest, I cannot be angry with him, or hate him." 
 
 The Stoics were led into these sentiments, and 
 tiiis conduct, by considering every man as wholly 
 independent on e\'ery other, each being separately 
 suflicient for his own happiness, and incapable of 
 interfering with th.at of any otlier. " Does anv 
 *' person ofiend uic," says Marcus Antoninus (Lib. 
 V. sect. 25.) " let him look to it. He has his own 
 *' dispositions and actions, and I have what nature 
 " w ills me to have, and I do w hat is agreeaiile to 
 *' nature." Again he says, (Lib. iv. cap. 26.) 
 " Does any person injure me. No, he hijures 
 " himself. If you suffer (Lib. ix. sect. 42.) 
 " through fiaudu lent, faithless, injurious, persons, 
 
 " consi- 
 
OF TKE STOICS. 211 
 
 " consider that tliere must be such men in thr 
 " VTOrld, and vou will bear with them. 
 
 ..v^-.v^, ^^,.^ J'"-^ iwii i^v^tll Willi lilL-ill. VV 
 
 you take any thing ill (Lib. xii. sect. 25.) you 
 forget that every thing takes place according to 
 *' tlie nature of the universe. If vre consider these 
 " things only as evils Vvhich depend upon our ou n 
 *' wills, we shall see no reason for blameinc!:, or bear- 
 " ingill will to, an}'^ man." 
 
 Besides diis great indiSerence to the vices of 
 other persons, as injuring only themselves, that of 
 fornication was never considered by any heathen;* 
 philosopliers, or odicrs, as one, an}- farther tlian it 
 was found to be hijurious. This is evident from 
 the advice that E.pictetus gives (sect. 33.) *' Ab- 
 " stain as much as }'ou can from veiiery bclbre 
 " marriage. If not, do it as the lav/s permit, but 
 ^' do not find fault with others Vvho are nut eon ti- 
 *' nent, or boast that you ai'e so." 
 
 How short is this of the purity required of chris- 
 tians, vvho are taught to consider fornicators, as well 
 as adulterers, diicves, See. excluded from the king- 
 dom of heaven, and how little attention must these 
 philosophers have given to the natural consequence 
 of venereal indulgence vvithout the bounds of mar- 
 riage ; how ill it qualifies men to be affectio nate 
 
 O 3. husbands 
 
212 oj THE nriLCcopiiY 
 
 husbnrids, and fallicrs, ai:d that in many cases it 
 n\iist indispose nu'i to marriage in general. There 
 was also this inconsistence in tlKJr maxims in this 
 respect, that fornication \vas always reckoned infa- 
 mous in the female sex ; so that women of charac- 
 ter never associated with known prostitutes. The 
 christian catalogue of both virtues and vices is far 
 more copious than that of tlie heathens, which was 
 defective \\ iih respect to duties of ever}- kind, those 
 thiit are commonly said men ov, e to dicmselves, and 
 to society, as well as those that \\e owe to God, not- 
 withstanding tlwt of submission to his will, which 
 is one of the great excellencies of the maxims of 
 the Stoics ; as this was founded chiefly on its being 
 merely taken for granted, without considering any 
 particular evidence of it, that evciy Uiing in the 
 universe, and the goveinmtnt of ii, must be right. 
 For the wisdom of j)r()\idence in the permission or 
 appointment of evil is never mentioned by Marcus 
 Antoninus. That such things as evils of every 
 kind must bc^ is the amount of all diat he says on 
 the subject ; and Uiat they do not aftect anv person 
 \\ho considers these as foreign to himself. He 
 says nothing of the beneficial tendency of the tilings 
 that we call evil, and complain of in the system, 
 obvious as diis tendency is now seen to be. Mar- 
 cus 
 
OF THE STOICS. 213 
 
 cus Antoninus would bear tribulation, but tlie 
 apostle Paul rejoices in it. 
 
 The maxims of the heathens "vvcre still more de- 
 fective v;ith respect to sufficient niothesio the prac- 
 tice of virtue, in the fear of future punishment, and 
 the prospect of future reward ; and all other mo- 
 tives will have but little hold on the bulk of man- 
 kind, especially if they be already engaged in bad 
 habits. On such persons, a disinterested respect to 
 virtue, so much insisted upon by Pvlarcus Antoni- 
 nus, cannot be expected to ha\'c any influence. 
 
 Section IV. 
 
 OftJie 'various Ei^'ils of Life. 
 
 Another great use of religion and philosophy is 
 to enable men to bear the various evils incident to 
 them in life with as little inconvenience as possible ; 
 and accordingl}^ this was a princi]:)al object of die 
 philosophy of the Stoics, far more than it was with 
 any of the other sects. In this inspect their preten- 
 sions went very high indeed, far, as we shall see, 
 beyond the bounds of reason and nature; so that 
 daily experience, one would have thouglit, must 
 O 4. have 
 
2 1 '1 Of r II £ r II 1 1. s o r H y 
 
 have cor.vinced ihcm (jf llicir mistake. Xotnitli- 
 star.diR[^ tliis, they resolutely niaiiitaincd their fa- 
 vourite, anJ indeed fundamental maxims, of indif- 
 fercncc to every thing foreign to themselves, (mean- 
 ing the intellectual principle in them onl} ) which 
 enjoined palicnee under, and even insensibility to, 
 all that mankind in general complain of, and call 
 ceils I 
 
 On this principle they held that, w ithout its own 
 consent, the mind could not be affected by any 
 thing. " I learned," says Marcus Antoninus (Lib. 
 1. sect. 8.) *' of Apollonius to regard nothing be- 
 " sides mere reason, to be the same in the most 
 " acute pain, in the loss of children, and in diseas- 
 *' es of long continuance." So also Epictetus 
 says, (sect. 1.) " If the things that disturb you be 
 " not in your pow er, have it ready to say. This is 
 ** notI";ing to me. And if you consider that only 
 '* as yours ^hich is yours, and what is foreign to 
 " you as foreign to you, no person will constrain 
 ** or hinder you. You will complain of no man. 
 *' You will do nothing against your w ill. You 
 " will have no enemv, nor suffer anv dunsr disa- 
 "gieeabletoyou." 
 
 This 
 
OF THE STOICS. 215 
 
 This opinion of tliLMiatiirc and povvxrs of the 
 mind, and of things that were, or were not, fo- 
 reign to themselves, an opinion on u hieh so much 
 depended, they contrived to be easily formed by 
 those who had been tauglit to ji'iilosophize, so as 
 to be readily applied on all occasions. It was only 
 the office of thoiiQ-hl, than v> hich nothini:* is more 
 easy to mind^ the property of which is to think. 
 In this respect thev made no difference between 
 the most painful sensations and impressions, cor- 
 poreal or mental, though in these we find that the 
 mind is absolutely passive ; tliey supposing all 
 sensations and emotions were to be refeiTcd to the 
 merely animal part of man, on vihich they maiii 
 tained that the mind was A\holly independent ; so 
 that whatever impression might be made from 
 without, it was in its power to rclic\'e itself. 
 
 Consequently, they held that pieasu re and pain 
 of every kind are not to be classed among things 
 diat are either good or evil. Marcus Antoninus 
 says (Lib. ii. cap. 11.) " Life and death, honour 
 " and ignominy, pain and pleasure, wealth and po- 
 " verty, may be equally considered as good or evil ; 
 " since they are neither honourable nor dislio- 
 " nourable, and are therefore neither s:ood no- 
 5. "evil*." 
 
-10 or 1 HE J'HILOSOniY 
 
 " evil-:; ." ijij, ii;^. aifliculty consists in being ful. 
 ly coininced of this, and regarding that as indiffer- 
 ent in contradiction to the actual llxlings of them- 
 selves, as well as of the rest of mankind. Of diis, 
 ho^vc^'er, they made very light. 
 
 *' Reject opinion," says Marcus Antoninus, 
 (Lib. xii. sect. 25.) " and you lue safe ; and v. hat 
 " hinders your doing this, \vhen any thing happens 
 *' tliat is disagreeable to you ? }ou forget that this 
 
 " happens 
 
 * There is a passage in t/ie TliNl' of Cebes^ ivho 
 ivas a disciple of Socrates^ in iv/iic/i this sentiment 
 of life and deaths health and sickness ^ being to be 
 classed among things indifferent to Jiappiness occurs. 
 But it must hai}e been added by some person %vho, if 
 not a Stoic, must ha've lived long after the time of 
 this Ccbcs. " /-{/t'," he says, is not to be classed 
 " arnong the goods or the e^ ils ; because it is enjoy - 
 *' ed alike by those 'ivho live well, and those ivho live 
 *' ill. The same vmy be said of cutting and burn- 
 " i//^; for these operations are usefully employed by 
 " those vjho are sick and those nuho are voell. Net- 
 *' ther is death an absolute evil ; because it is some- 
 *' ti77ies preferred to life by the brave ; nor health, 
 *' or sickness, riches, or any other seeming advan- 
 *' tage; because they are often of no real use. ''^ 
 
OF THE STOICS. 217 
 
 ** liappens according to the nature of Uic universe. 
 
 *' Take away opinion," he says (Lib. iv. sect. 7.) 
 
 ' and complaint is removed. Whatever docs not 
 
 " make a man worse, or his conduct worse, cannot 
 
 *' injure him internally or externally." And a- 
 
 gain, (Lib. vii. cap. 14.) " If I do not consider a- 
 
 *' ny thing that befalls me as an evil, I am not in- 
 
 " jured, and it depends upon myself ^^lled^er I think 
 
 *' so or not. How easy," says he, (Lib. v. sect. 2.) 
 
 " to remove every imagination that is troublesome 
 
 *' or inconvenient, so as to preserve the mind in 
 
 " perfect tranquility. In pain (Lib. viii. cap. 28.) 
 
 " the soul may preserve its tranquility, and not 
 
 *• think it to be an evil. Every thing of the nature 
 
 '' of opinion, inclination, and appetite, is within us, 
 
 •' where nothing that is evil can come. Remove 
 
 '* imagination," he says, addressing himself", and 
 
 " it is in my power that no vice, no irregular de- 
 
 *^ sire, no perturbation, exist in my mind ; but, re- 
 
 *• garding every thing as it really is, to make use of 
 
 *' it according to its value. Remember that this 
 
 * power is given to you by nature. So Epictetus 
 
 says (sect. 30.) " No person can hurt you unless 
 
 *' you will. Then only are you injured, when you 
 
 *' think you are so." 
 
 In a more particular manner they made light of 
 
 everv" 
 
218 OF THE nilLOSOPHY 
 
 even^ tiling tliat afllctcd the body only, for which, as 
 consisting of brute niatt-.r, ihcv professed the great- 
 est contempt, as if it had borne no relation w hatc- 
 vcr to the mind, w hich they considered as the only 
 proper seat of good or evil, true pleasure or pain. 
 ** Nothing," says Marcus Antoninus, (Lib. iv. 
 sect. 39.) "that is an evil to you, deper.ds upon 
 " any change that takes place in that in Avhicli vou 
 *' are inclosed. If ihc body be cut, burned, or 
 " putrefy, only let that j)ari: of a man v/hich forms 
 " its opinion concerning it be at rest, that is, 
 ••' not consider diat as good or e\il, uhieh may hap- 
 *' pen either to good or bad men. For whatever 
 " happens aUke to him that lives agreeably to na- 
 " ture, or contrary to it, is a matter of incliflference. 
 *' Vou may pass your life (Lib. vii. sect, (i^,) willi- 
 " out injury, and with the greatest cheerfulness, 
 *' though \\ ild beasts tear the limbs of the body 
 ** that surrounds you , and adheres to yor." 
 
 The language in which diey sometimes express 
 this indifference to the body is amusing, and might 
 have been said by way of ridicule of their system. 
 " Pain," says Marcus Antoninus, (Lib. viii. sect. 
 28.) " is an evil to the body. li it is so, let die bo- 
 *' d}- look to it. As to tlie limbs of die body, (Lib. 
 •' vii. sect. 33.) ifdiey be in pain, let them take 
 
 " ciu-c 
 
Of THE STOICS. 219 
 
 •' care of it, if they ean do any thing." Again 
 (Lib. Kii. sect. 1.) " Let the f^esh v>ith which yon 
 " are surrounded mind its own sufferings." ** U 
 " the reason," sfiys Epictetus (sect. 18.) " forebode 
 ** any ill, immediately reply, it may be to your bo- 
 *' dy, your reputation, your children, or your wife. 
 " Every thing fortunate is intended forme, if I 
 '' please. For ^\hatever happens to me, is in my 
 " power, and I may deri^'e advantage from it." 
 
 However, besides this great sheet anchor, as it may 
 be called, of the Stoics, by ^vhich they procured their 
 tranquility in all the storms of life, viz. their idea 
 of the absolute independence of the mmd upon eve- 
 ry thing external to it, and its sufficiency for its own 
 happiness, they occasionally mention other consi- 
 derations not peculiar to themselves, some ofm.ore, 
 and some of less, weiglit. Among others, Marcus 
 Antoninus says, (Lib. vii. sect. 33.) " If pain con- 
 " not be borne, it will cease, and if it be of long 
 *' continuance, it may be borne ; and in the mean 
 " time the mind, by means of its opinion, may 
 *' preserve its tranquility." 
 
 Another of his resources is not so reasonable. 
 " Think with yourself," he says (Lib. viii. sect. 
 36.) " that nothing past or future, but only that 
 
 " which 
 
220 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " vvhicli is present can be the cause of uneasiness 
 " to you." This is by no means true with respect 
 to beings capable of reflection, %vhose happiness or 
 misery nccessuiily depends much more on the past 
 and the future than on die present moment. It is 
 only a brute, or a child, to w Inch this observation is 
 applicable, nor even to them completely, or long. 
 
 One rule of Epictetus, however, istmly valua- 
 ble, if it could be applied. But the Stoics always 
 imagined that much more was in their pow cr than 
 really was so. " Do not (sect. 8.) seek to find things 
 " as you w ish them to be, but wish for that w hich 
 " actually is, and you will pass your life in tranqui- 
 " lity." The great difficulty in this case (but to 
 this the Stoics gave no attention) is in the appKcati- 
 on of such a rule ; and other principles, out of the 
 sphere of their philosophy, but comprehended in 
 those of Christianity, are necessar}' to assist us in 
 this. 
 
 This great excellence of character, which raises 
 some men so much above the lc\el of their species, 
 and w hich rendered them superior to all the e\ ils 
 of life, and also to the fear of death, the Stoics a- 
 scribcd wholly to philosophy ; so that it required 
 much study and reflection to attain it, though af- 
 terwards the exercise of it was easy. " The time 
 
 *' of 
 
OF THE STOICS. 221 
 
 " of liurnan life," says Marcus Antoninus (Lib. 
 ii. sect. 17.) " is a point; nature is in a continual 
 " flux, the senses are obscure, the body liable to 
 " corruption, &.c. &c. the only thing" (that is of 
 value) " is philosophy, which consists in preserv- 
 " ing the mind intire, superior to pleasure or pain, 
 *' self-sufiicicnt, having nothing to do with what 
 *' others do or do not do, and receiving the things 
 " that befall them as coming from tlie same source 
 " with themselves.'" " It is a mai'k," says Epic- 
 tetus (sect. 48.) " of the common people to look 
 *' for loss or gain from what is external to them, 
 *' but the philosopher expects nothing but from 
 " himself. The proof that he is a philosopher, is, 
 " that he censures no person, commands no per- 
 *' son, complains of no man, never boasts of him- 
 " self, as a person of any consequence. If he meets 
 " with obstacles from his acquaintance he blames 
 " only himself If any person praise him he laughs 
 " at him, and if he be censured he does not excuse 
 *' himself." &c. 
 
 If only such persons as these be philosophers, 
 they will never be very numerous. Indeed, we 
 must not look for them among men^ not even those 
 who make the greatest profession and boast of this 
 very philosophy ; because it could not be in their 
 
 power 
 
222 OF THE piiiLosoniY 
 
 power to divest themselves of tlie common princi- 
 ples of human nature. A\'c sec, however, in these 
 extremely absurd maxims, liow fiy metaphysical 
 or {general pi ineiples can carry men, at least in spe- 
 culation ; and therefore of what impoi-timce it is to 
 form just ones, agreeable to the real principles of 
 human nature ; for such only can lead to the pro- 
 per duty and happiness of man. 
 
 That die Stoics, however, found more difficulty 
 than they were w illing in general to allow, in re- 
 ducing dieir maxims to practice, appears from dieir 
 frequently inculcating die neccssit}- of having pro- 
 per rules, or remedies, at hand for every ease that 
 might occur. " As surgeons," says Marcus An- 
 toninus(Lib. iii. sect. 13.)" have their instruments 
 ** ready for c\ery operation, so have you your niax- 
 " ims ready, by the help of which you may distin- 
 " guish divine and human things," meaning pro- 
 bably things within our power, and those that were 
 out of it. " There is no retirement (Lib. iv. sect. 
 " 3.} so complete as that into one's own mind,espe- 
 " cially if it be -^W stored w idi maxims, by the con- 
 " sideration of which it may attain perfect tranquili- 
 " ty. And by diis means it is in a mim's power to 
 *' remove e\ery cause of uneasiness." " WMiate- 
 " ver occurs to you," says Epictetus (sect. 10.) 
 
 " have 
 
OF THE STOICS. 223 
 
 *' have some principle ready to oppose to it. If 
 *' you see a beautiful boj'' or girl, have recoui'se to 
 ** coiitiiieiice, if labour the enduring of it, if re- 
 *' proach patience. By this means appearances 
 *' will not mislead you." " In pain let. this consi- 
 " deration be at hand," says Marcus Antoninus, 
 (Lib. vii. sect. 64.) " tliat it is not disgraceiiil, or 
 " makes the governing power" (the mind) " atalithe 
 *' \."orse, and that nothing that is either material, or 
 *' that relates to other persons, ean injure it." 
 
 Hov»- gi-eatly superior, and how much better a- 
 dapted to the real principles of human nature, and 
 the common feelings of men, are the consolations of 
 our religion, to those of this philosophy ! In the 
 scriptures the idea of the Di\ ine Being is that of the 
 universal parent, our father in heaven, who never 
 afflicts his children but for their benefit. He docs 
 not-t we read, afflict will'mgly^ nor grie'ses the di'ildren 
 of men. Tea as a father pitieth his children^ the 
 Lord pitieth them that fear him. He knoweth their 
 frame and remembers that they are dust. \Vith re- 
 spect to the wicked, he is represented as forbearing 
 to punish with severit}', waiting for their repentance 
 and reformation, which is the sole object of the dis- 
 cipline to which they are exposed ; not being wil- 
 ling that any slioidd perish^ but that all should come 
 to repentance, P. These 
 
224 OF THK PHILOSOPHY 
 
 These sentiments are such as all men may feel 
 the force of, and are therefore adapted to common 
 lii>e. Chris'.ianity also holds out a sufficient re- 
 ward for all our sufferings, \vhcn they are borne with 
 a p roper • tc mper ; and of this the Stoics t^ULjht no- 
 thing. Afji'ic lions y as the apostle siij's, arc not joyous 
 but griewus^ v.o'ccrtheless they work out for us a far 
 fnorc exceeding, even an eternal weJg/it of glory ; 
 luhlle they make us to look not at :Jk things that are 
 seen^ \\:h'ich are temporary^ but at the things that are 
 unseen, "[^liich arc eternal. 
 
 It is not among the Stoic?, or any heathens, that 
 \\e must look for such truly consoling sentiments as 
 these. With these helps, christians are enabled 
 to endure affliction not only with patience, which 
 was all that the Stoics pretended to, but with joy: 
 and accordingly the apostles exhort their fellow 
 christians to rejoice in tribulation ; in every thing to 
 give thanks. Count it ell joy says the apostle James^ 
 (Chap. i. V. 2.) when ye fall into divers trials; 
 knowing that the trial of your faith worketh pati- 
 ence. But let patience hai}C her per fi. ct work, that 
 you may be perfect and inti e, wanting nothing — 
 (\'. 12.) Blessed is the man tiiat endureth tempt a- 
 lion : for when lie is tried he shall receive tlie crown 
 of life f which the Lord has promised to them that 
 lo'-ce him. Section' 
 
OF THE STOICS. 225 
 
 Section V. 
 Of Death. 
 
 Of all the evils of life death is the natural termi- 
 nation ; but it, is likewise the same with respect to 
 all the enjoyments of it, and what is more, of all 
 our future hopeSy^ if we have nothing to look to be- 
 yond it. On this account it has always been clas- 
 sed in the catalogue of the c'Gih to which men are 
 subject, and one from which no man, whatever may 
 have been his rank or situation in life, can be ex- 
 empt. 
 
 The apprehension of this universal catastrophe 
 would oppress the mind much more than it gene- 
 rally does, if the t'lme^ and other circumstances^ at- 
 tending it were known to us. But these being un- 
 known, and uncertain, and all men having their 
 thoughts engaged iathe pursuit of their several ob- 
 jects, and also naturally disposed to flatter them- 
 selves, they seldom think of death till the very near 
 approach of it ; and then they are often wholly in- 
 sensible of it ; so that their suffering from it at the 
 time is generally inconsiderable. 
 
 P 2. Still, 
 
226 or THE PHILOSOPHT 
 
 Still, however, the consideration ol" death must 
 often tlirow a cloud o\er tlie brii^htest prospects of 
 many men who reflect en their situation, and espe- 
 cially those \\ hose lot in Hie is tlie most pleasing to 
 tliem ; and, in general, tend to abate the san- 
 guine views and expectations wi.n wliich per- 
 sons generally enter upon lil'e. On tliese accounts 
 a remedy for the fear of death has always been con. 
 bidered as a most desireable thing, and an impor- 
 tant article in religion and philosophy. It v.as so 
 more particularly with the Stoics, as is evident 
 from their frequent mention of it, and the \arious 
 arguments tlicy urge to reconcile the mindb of 
 men to it. Some of tlieni are valuable, and as far 
 as they go, satisfactory ; especially that to which 
 they have con;>t.;nt recourse, as flo^^'ing directly 
 from the fandamental principle of tlieir system, 
 viz. the submission that we owe to the established 
 order of nature and providence, \\hich we cannot 
 alter, and which we must take for granted is right. 
 
 " To die," says Miu'cus Antoninus (Lib. ii. 
 sect. 11.) 'Ms not grievous, since tlicre are gods, 
 *' M ho will not involve thee in any thirg that is evil. 
 " If there were no eods, or if thev &x\e no attenti. 
 " on to tlic affairs of men, it would not be A\orth 
 ** while to li\e iji such a \\orld. But thei-e are 
 
 gods. 
 
OF THE STOICS. 227 
 
 ** god.^. ?.nd they do take care of human affairs, and 
 ^' they have put it into every man's power not to 
 *' fall into any evil. We should meet death," he 
 says (Lib. ii. sect. 17.) " with a benevolent and 
 *' placid mind, as a dissolution of those elements of 
 *' v\hich ever}^ animal consists. And if nothing 
 " extraordinar}' happens to tliese elements, which 
 *' are continually changing into one anodier, it is 
 " no subject of dread, because it is according to 
 *' nature, and nothing is an evil that is agreeable 
 ** to nature." 
 
 One use of the expectation ofdcath is well j^oint- 
 ed out by Epictetus, " I^et death," says he 
 (sect. 21.) " exile, and every thing that is trouble- 
 " some, be always present, to your thoughts, and 
 *' especially deadi, and you will have no mean 
 "*' thoughts, nor desire any thing inordinately." 
 
 Some of the Stoical ai'gu ments against the fear 
 of death are not equally satisflictory with that abo^'C 
 mentioned, especially that which Marcus Antoni- 
 nus alleges with respect to evils in genera , hough 
 he apphes it more particularly to the consideration 
 of death, viz. that nothing really interests us besides- 
 v'hat is actually present. " In dea:ii," he says 
 (Lib. ii. sect. 14.) " we only lose tlie present^ 
 P 3. " whicb 
 
223 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 *' uhicli is the same to all persons ; for vhat is past 
 *' or future cannot be the subject of life. This 
 "makes tlie longest life equal to the shortest." 
 Oil this idea he enlarges in a manner that is tiuly 
 cxtiaordinar}', in a man of genenil good sen^e, and 
 disposed to reflection. *' Though you should 
 ** live," he says, " three thousand yeai-s, or more 
 ** thiui ten times as long, you sliould remember 
 *' that no person can have more of this life, or of 
 " any other life, than he really has. It is the same 
 <' thing, therefore, whether you have the longest or 
 " the shortest life, since the present is the same to all ; 
 *' so tliat what is lost is only momentary." 
 
 " If any oftliegods," he says (Lib. iv. sect. 47.) 
 *' should tell you that you must die eitlier this day 
 " or the next, you Avould think it a matter of indif- 
 " ference \\ hich to chuse, unless you were tlie most 
 *' abject of men. In hke manner, neither \\oald 
 ** you think it of consequence whether you lived 
 *' a thousand years, or died to-morrow. He who 
 *' thinks (Lib. xii. sect. 35.) that whatever is season- 
 " able is good, will think there is no difference whe- 
 *' ther he perform more or fewer actions agreeable 
 " to reason, and whether he contemplate tlie uni- 
 *' verse a longer or a shorter sj)uce of lime. To 
 " him deatli cannot be formidable." 
 
 In 
 
OP THE STOICS. 229 
 
 In this sentiment, however, the emperor would 
 rot have the concunence of mankind in general. 
 They consider Ufe as vakiable, and would, therefore, 
 prefer a longer to a shorter one ; and no doubt he 
 himseli" notwithstanding this reasoning, would 
 have done so too, provided (as we may presume in 
 his case) his prospects, in the continuance of life and 
 of pO'A'er, had been promising. 
 
 What makss the apprehension of death distres- 
 sing to some persons of a melancholy turn of mind, 
 is their connecting with it diings that do not proper- 
 perly belong to it ; being things that at the time 
 they camiot have any know ledge or feeling of. as 
 the circumstances attending a funeral, being inclos- 
 ed in a coffin, being put under ground, and there 
 putrifying, and perhaps devoured by v/orms, Sec. 
 &.C. Oil this subject the emperor veiy properly 
 eays (Lib. ii, sect. 12.) "If we separate from 
 *' death every thing that does not necessarily belong 
 *' to it, and which usually m:ike it an object of ter- 
 *' ror, there is nothing in it bat the work of na- 
 *'ture; and whoever dreads any thing in nature 
 " is a child. But death is not only the work of na- 
 *' ture, but a thing that is of use in the system of 
 *' nature, and it is in a man's power to consider 
 
 P 4. *' tlic 
 
230 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 *' the relation that the principal part of him bears to 
 *' God, and what is to he tlic condition of that 
 " part when it shall be released from the body." 
 
 In this he alludes to the jjliilosophical principle 
 ofthe absoq^tion of all hiferior intelligences into 
 tlie great uni^'ersal intelligence. But neither he, 
 or any other heathen philosopher, had, or could 
 have, an unshaken belief in that doctrine, little con- 
 solation as it can afford. For \\ hat is a drop of u a- 
 ter (which is their usual comparison) when absorb, 
 ed in the ocean ! 
 
 Besides, tlie Stoics as well as all tlie other philo- 
 sophers often express doubts on the subject ; like 
 Socrates, putting the supposition, that death is ei- 
 tlier an entire dispersion of all the elements of 
 which man consists, which puts a period to all con- 
 sciousness, or that absorption of the soul into the 
 soul of the uni^•crse which puts an end to all sepa- 
 rate individual consciousness, and which caimot 
 be vers' different from it. " If," says Marcus An- 
 toninus (Lib. vi. sect. 10.) " every thing is to be 
 ^* dissipated, why should I diink of any thing but 
 *' being, some way or other, reduced to earth ; and 
 ** why should I be disturbed at this ? Do wliat I 
 *' will, tliis dispersion will come some time or 
 
 *' otlier 
 
or THE STOICS. 231 
 
 ** other. If after death (Lib. iii. sect. 3.) you be 
 " deprived of all sense, j-^oii w'lW likewise lose all 
 *' sense of pleasure and pain. You will then cease 
 *' to be a slave to the worst part of yourself. But 
 " is not that which was enslaved the better part of 
 " you, when the one is intellectual and a genius, 
 *' and the other mild and corruption? Wait your 
 *< death (Lib. v. sect. 33.) with ti-anquility, whe- 
 *' ther it be an extinction of being, or a removal. 
 *' Till that time come, be content to worship die 
 *' gods, to do good to men, to bear with them, and 
 *' keep at a distance from them, remembering tliat 
 *' every thing foreign to yourself is neither yours, 
 *' nor in your poWer." 
 
 This supposition of the two possible consequen- 
 ces of death, so frequent with the heathen philoso- 
 phers, and with the Stoics as mu<:h as any other, 
 certainly shews an unsteadiness of opinion on the 
 subject, and that little consolation was in fact d^ 
 rived from it. No such uncertainty is expressed 
 by Jesus, the apostles, or any christian. With 
 them the belief of a resurrection was as unshaken 
 as that of death, and it operated accordingl}', re- 
 lieving them from all anxiety on the subject, and 
 enabling them e\erto rejoice in the prospect of ex- 
 ehanging this life for a better. 
 
 P5. On 
 
2C2 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 On the subject o[ sd/jnunkr, the Stoics seem to 
 have had no settled opinion, some times main*.c'.in- 
 ing, as the emperor seems to do, tiiat it is the duty 
 of every man to remain in tlic station in ^' hich pro- 
 vidence hr.s placed him, till he receives an order 
 from tlie same power to quit it, by ^\hich must 
 be meant, something foreign to a man's own a\ ill, 
 or inclination, as by disease, or violence. But if 
 ve judge by the practice of scm:: ufthe most dis- 
 tinguished ofthe sect, as that of Zer.o himself, Pla- 
 to, and others, they considered it as an act of great 
 heroism, especially becoming a man who must o- 
 tlierwise live in ignominy ; notwithstanding their 
 maintaining at other times, that neither praise nor 
 blame, servitude or exile, being things foreign to 
 a man's self, ought to give him any uneasiness. 
 
 Marcus Antoninus himself expresses, though 
 somewhat obscurely, his approbation of self mur- 
 der. "If you must die (Lib. v. sret. 29.) let it 
 "be as those who have suffered nothing. If the 
 " smoke be troublesome, I leave it. Why should 
 " this appear of consequence to any person ? But 
 " nothing compels me to depart. I rcn^ove irce- 
 " l}-^, since no person can hinder me from doing 
 " what I please. It is my \\\s\\ to do what belongs 
 ** to a m.ui enddcd willi reason, and born lor socie- 
 
OF THE STOICS. 233 
 
 <* ty.'* This allusion to his quitting a smoky- 
 house, looks like a voluntary act ; the compulsion 
 being very inconsiderable, since a smoky house is 
 tolerable though not pleasant. 
 
 The amount of all these philosophical remedies 
 against the fear of death, is nothing more than a pati- 
 ent acquiescence in what is unavoidable, and what 
 must be taken for granted is right, with respect to 
 the \\hole system of ^^•hich we are a part : deadi, as 
 well as birth, being included in it. The same ar- 
 gument applies to the deprivation of any thing that 
 men \'alue, as health, riches, pleasure, pov.er, Sec. 
 &c. but wliat can prevent our regret at the loss of 
 them, if we really value them ? and is not life a 
 thing that all men value, and consequently must 
 
 they not naturally part with it, as -well as other 
 things, with regret, when they can retain it no long- 
 er, and have no prospect of any equivalent for the 
 loss, which must have been the case with the hea- 
 then world ? This is certainly the language of na- 
 ture ; and if philosophers say any thing to the con- 
 traiy , as the Stoics do, it is a proof diat their prin- 
 ciples are not agreeable to nature, and therefore 
 false, and their topics of consolation under afHicti- 
 on, and in the prospect of death, are not adapted to 
 the nature and condition of man. 
 
 How 
 
234 OF THE PIIILOSOniY' 
 
 How unspeakably more natural, and therefor© 
 more cITicacious, and valuable, is the consolation 
 that Christianity holds out to a dying man, who is 
 conscious that he has lived a virtuous life ! It is 
 not the gloomy consolation of the dispersion of the 
 elements of w hich his body consists, and never to 
 be collected again, or the rc-union of his soul to 
 tliat of the whole universe, from m Iiieh he cannot 
 conceive any source of joy to himself individually, 
 and of w hich, indeed, he cannot form an.y distinct 
 idea ; but the exchaiige of this ll^j for a better, a 
 state in which he will not be subject to sickness or 
 pain, and in vhich he will not die any more, but 
 continue in existence without end ; and this not 
 mere existence, but a life of the truest enjoyment, 
 the enjoyment of things which the apostle says, eye 
 hath iiGt seen, nor ear heard ^ and such as it has not 
 entered into the mind of man to conceive. AV'idi this 
 prospect, certain and glorious, tliough not distinct 
 and particular, mcII may the christiim siiy in dying, 
 death where is thy sting, grave ivliere is tliy 
 victory / That christians cf eveiy^ denomination 
 actually believe this, and that this is the most es- 
 sential and uniuestionuble article of tl.cir faith, 
 cannot be denied ; and this firm fiith accounts. 
 in the most suti.,factory mimner, not only for the 
 
 calm 
 
OF THE STOICS. 
 
 235 
 
 calm -resignation, which is all that the Stoics pre- 
 tend to, but the joy with which thousands of chris- 
 tians have met death, and even endured the ^eatcst 
 tortures that could be inflicted upon them, rather 
 than renounce their faith. 
 
 Had Marcus Antoninus been acquainted with 
 tlic sentiments of christians on this subject, he 
 couIl. not have called their refusal to In'e on the 
 terms that he proposed to them obstinacy^ because 
 it had a natural and real foundation, the bearing of 
 an evil of short continuance, however severe, for a 
 degree of happiness that would be an abundant re 
 compence for it. 
 
 The Stoics, indeed, held out as v/e have seen a 
 kind of immortality to man, in those great revoluti- 
 ons, to which tliey supposed that, at certain periods, 
 every thing in nature would be subject, so that as 
 cverv thing had once been in the very state in 
 which it now is, it will sometime hence revert to 
 the very same, and so \\ithout end, and without a- 
 ny improvement. But besides that this notion, 
 which is also entertained by the Hindoos, and pro- 
 bably came into Greece from the East, is destitute 
 of all foundation, and could hiudly be seriously^ 
 believed by any man, how inferior is it to that 
 'kind of immortality tliat chiistians are taught to 
 
 expect. 
 
236 OF THE fHILOSOPHY 
 
 expect ! A state of existence that w ill not only 
 have no end, but that w ill be continually improv- 
 ing; an idea most sublime and transporting, and 
 vdhichib countenanced even by present appearances, 
 as we actually obscne the state of mankind, and of 
 every thing wc see, to be in a st;ite of improvement. 
 
 Compared \\ ith the cold indifilrence, (and this 
 no doubt in a gi'eat measure affected) ^\'ith which 
 Marcus Antoninus speaks of meeting death, how 
 short does i: fall of the joy, and even rapture, with 
 ■which the apostle Paul speaks of his approaching 
 end! (2. Tim. c. iv. v. 6.) / am no\v rcfat/y to 
 be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand, 
 I have fought the good fight. I ha'ce finished my 
 course. I have kept the faith. Henceforth there 
 is laid up fior me a cro\vn ofi righteousness, ivhich 
 the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that 
 day ; arid not to me only, hut unto all them also that 
 love his appearing. What an idea does tliis gi\e 
 us of the infinite superiority of the principles of 
 Christianity to those of heathen philosophy of every 
 kind ! 
 
 The probability is, that Marcus Antoninus held 
 the christians (few of whom pretended to any know- 
 ledge of philosophy) in too great contempt to make 
 any proper inquiry uito their sentiments, or to 
 
 read 
 
or THE STOICS. 237 
 
 l^ad their writings. He had learned, he saj-s, 
 (Lib. i. sect. 6.) '* of Diognctus not to spend his 
 ^' time about trifles, nor to give credit to those who 
 ** dealt in inchantments and exorcisms, and other 
 ** impostures of that nature." And being under 
 the influence, as he evidently was, of the Greek phi- 
 losophers, cad taking all his lessons from them, he 
 was no doubt, targht to believe that all die miracles 
 the clu-Jstians nretendcd to, as the foundation 
 of theii- religion, were no better founded than such 
 inchantineiits and exorcisms as many of the hca- 
 diens also pretended to. 
 
 So educated and instructed, he could not have 
 any proper idea of the firm faith and hope of chris- 
 tians, which, without any aid of speculative philo- 
 sophy, enabled them to bear, v.ith what he calls ob- 
 st'mdcy^ all the tortures that he, in so unrelenting a 
 manner, ordered to be inflicted upon them. What 
 could his boasted philosophy do in comparison 
 with tliis ? Thus was the wisdom of this worlds with 
 every advantage that time and reflection could 
 give it, mere fooUjhness, as the apostle called it, 
 compared with the simple doctrines of Christianity, 
 which were intelligible andefl&cacious with the lo\\'- 
 cst, and least exercised understanding, as well as 
 the highest. Indeed, the admirable plainness, and 
 
 as 
 
238 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 as well as superior excellence of its principles, le- 
 vels all distinctions of this and of every other kind. 
 To the poor the gospel is preached, as well as to the 
 rich ; and it is e^qually intelligible to them. Ac- 
 cording to the gospel, as in die eye of God, all men 
 are equal. It is conferred as a conimon blessing 
 on all his ofispring of manliind. 
 
 But ^\ ith this excellent religion Marcus Antoni- 
 niiswas unacquainted, and from his pride as a 
 philosopher, \\\\\d\ is sufficiently conspicuous in 
 his w 1 itings, his contempt of the «tTu doctrine of 
 christians, who made no account of his philoso- 
 phy, or any other, his zeal for the welfare of die em- 
 pire, at the head of which he was placed, and on 
 which his glory depended, which, Avidi iill odier 
 heathens, he imagined to have some unknown con- 
 nection \vith the observance of those antient rites, in 
 which the christiiuis refused to join, he might, 
 without any particular cruelty in his disposition, 
 direct the persecution ^\'hich continued during the 
 whole of his reign. It is farther probable diat he 
 only hcaixl of the sufferings of the christians 
 through die unllivourable accounts of his officers, 
 who would naturally be disposed to ridicule, and 
 make light of them, and to flatter him with respect 
 to the success of his measures. And Uius, w iUi- 
 
 out 
 
QF THE STOICS. 
 
 23b 
 
 out hearkening to any remonstrance or intreat}^ 
 m\d resisting, as his philosophy t lught him to do, 
 every motion of compassion, which he might think 
 was farther unbecoming him as an emperor, he 
 might persist as he did without remorse, in those 
 rigorous proceedings as long as he lived. He had 
 less knowledge of Christianity than Julian, and 
 therefore less guilt; as in all respects he was a 
 fRUch superior character. 
 
 Q. TH5 
 
2tG 
 
 T Vt E 
 
 flllLOSOPIIY 
 
 ARHIAN AND SENECA. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 jjfEXiXA and An-ian were both men of the 
 world, and statesmen; the former tutor to Nero, 
 and the latter diatliiq-uibhed by the most honoura- 
 blc employments under Adrian, and the succeed- 
 \\v^ emperors. But both of thcni were great wri- 
 ters, and both made profession of the Stoic philo- 
 sophy. Arriln was a disciple of Epictctus, and 
 the Enchiridion was com.posed by him from the 
 sayinp;sof his master. Seneca appears to have been 
 well acquainted with all the sects of tlie Greek phi- 
 losophy, and he particularly quotes a great num- 
 ber of the sayin.i^s of Epicurus, but he preferred 
 the philosophy of the Stoics to any otlier. 
 
 " Otl^ers," he says (De Const. Sap. c. 1.) " pro- 
 " eecd in a gentle maimer, but the Stoics endea- 
 
 " your 
 
OF THE ::toics. 
 
 ^41 
 
 *' voiir to raise men at on-^e to the hij^hcst pitch 
 " of excellence." This philosophy, indeed, may be 
 said to have been the greatest effort of human ge- 
 nius on the important suhjcct o[ rel'g ion and mo- 
 rals^ in \\hich the proper conduct of life, under all 
 the evils of it, and the prospect of death, subjects so 
 highly interesting to all men, ai-c particularlv in- 
 sisted upon. I have, however, chosen to give the 
 details of it from Marcus Antoninus and Epicte- 
 tus, rather than from ScMicca or Arrian, because 
 the former, not being writers by profession, as we 
 may consider the others to have been, mav be sup- 
 posed to have expressed their sentiments without 
 exaggeration ; so that v,'G are in less danger of being 
 misled by any thing like oratory in their ^vorks. 
 Some valuable illustrations, howe\cr, of the Stoi- 
 cal principles will be found in the Vvritlngs of Sene- 
 ca and Arrian, and expressed with more empha- 
 sis, for which we may m.ahc what allowance we 
 think proper. 
 
 Section I. 
 
 0/ God and Pro^oidence* 
 
 The Stoics strictly followed Socrates in the be- 
 lief of the being, and of the v.ise and benevolent 
 Q 2. provi- 
 
24i^ OF THE PHIIOSOPHV 
 
 providci.cc, of a sij'>rcmt' intelligence, whether it 
 resided in one suLject or many. Indeed, on thi«r 
 ail their di'jtinguihhing maxima, Cbpeeially that of 
 the soul of man being a portion of this intelligence, 
 njid retaining- its pov. ers, depended. Other philo- 
 sophers held viirious opinions on this subject. .'Vr- 
 rian gives the following account of them. 
 
 *' Concerning the gods," he siiys, (Lib. i. cap. 
 12.) "some say there arc no gods ; others that they 
 " exist, but take no care of any thing ; others that 
 *' they exist, but take no care of any besides ce- 
 " ICvStial tilings ; others thut ihey attend both to 
 *' celestial and tenestriiil things, but only in a gcnc- 
 *' ral V. ay ; others, like Uljsses and Socrates, siiy 
 *' that we cannot even move v» itliout God." Ar- 
 rian himself proves the being of a god from the 
 wonderful frame of tlie world (Lib. i. cap. C.) He 
 even supposes tliat God made the sini, \\ hieh Mar- 
 cus Antoninus, and the heathens hi general, sup- 
 posed to be itself a deity. " Can that God who 
 " made the sun, and guides it," he says (Lib. i. 
 cap. 14.) " a small part of lus works compared to 
 *' the universe, not sec all things." Seneca also 
 feavs (Ep. 41.) " such a system as this could not 
 " stand without the support of the deity. AV'hen 
 *' } ou are most alone," sa}s» Arriaii (Lib. i. 
 
 cap. 
 
'or THE STOICS. 243 
 
 cap. 14.) " God is within you ; your gv-^ni- 
 " us is within you. Do they require light to 
 *' see what you do ?" See also Seneca, (Ep. 41.) 
 
 Like Socniiles, the Stoics connected good mo- 
 lals with their regard to Gvjd. Arrian having 
 mentioned the deity says (Lib. ii. cap. 14.) " such 
 *' as the deity is, such will be those who endea- 
 *' vour to please Iiim. If he be faithful, they will 
 *' be so. If he be beneficent, the}' will be so. If he 
 *' be magnanimous, they will be so." He shews 
 ^t large the great danger that would not fail to re- 
 sult to society from a general neglect of religion. 
 *' Then," says he (Lib. ii. cap. 20.) "justice is 
 *' nothing, modesty is folly, and the relation of (U- 
 *' ther and son is as nothing." 
 
 The constant presence, and assistance, of God 
 was thought by some of the Stoics to be necessary 
 to all good men. *' There is no good man," says 
 Seneca (Ep. 41.) '* without God. No person can 
 *^ rise above fortune, but as assisted by him. It is 
 " he that gives great and exalted councils. God," 
 he says, *' removes from good men every evil, all 
 **■ wickedness , evil thoughts, blind lust, avarice," 
 ?vC. (De Provid* chap. 6.) He did not, however, 
 suppose that the divine guide of each parti cular 
 person was a deity of the highest rank. For he 
 Q 3. sa) »- 
 
244 or THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 says (Ep. 110.) " Every person has a god for his 
 "■ ^uicle, but one of an inferior kind."* 
 
 'I'hc union of tiiis intelligent principle, which 
 occasionally descended to the earth to the aid of 
 men, is thus expressed by Seneca (Ep. 41.) " As 
 *• the rays of the sun reach to the earth, but arc 
 '' still united to their source; so a great and sa- 
 ** crcd mind, being sent dow n hither that \\c may 
 " have d nearer ^'ie\v of divine things, converses 
 •* with us, but adheres to its original." 
 
 It is not easy to say what the heathen philoso- 
 phers and others thought oi/aic, and the relation 
 that the gods bore to it. Sometimes tlicy seem to 
 have thought that they directed fate, at other times 
 that fate v.as a power independent of them, and that 
 controlled them. Seneca seems to have thought 
 that late was nothing more than the will of tlic gods 
 themselves. "Tiieuuthoraiid governor of all things'' 
 he says (Prov. v. cap. 1.) "wrote the fates, but 
 
 " he Ibllows them. He orders, but always obeys. 
 
 *' Some things must always please God (Quaest. 
 
 " Nat. Lib. i. pri\;f. ) bcaiuse the best things 
 
 '' on)}- please liim. Nor is he on this account less 
 
 "free, 
 
 * T//OSC of this class of deities that atlcrnkd luo- 
 saen "wcrc by the heathens called Juno's. 
 
OF THE STOICS. 245- 
 
 *' free, or powerful ; for he is his own necessity. 
 " If this be not the cr^se, it would not be worth 
 " while to be bom." 
 
 It was taken for granted by all tl\e later phllo.io- 
 pliers, that the gods were incapiU^le of angcry iis 
 well as all good men ; and the natural consecjucncc 
 of this opinion was that there could be no fulure 
 punishment for the wicked , which took awa;- a 
 great motive against the commission of vice. 
 " The immortal gods," says Seneca (Dc Ira. Lib. 
 ii. c. 27.) " neither will any anger, nor can indulge 
 *' in any. Their nature is mild, and placid^ as re- 
 *' mote from injuring others as themselves. No 
 *' man in his senses" he says (De Bencf. Lilj. 
 iv. cap. 19.) " fears God, for it is madness to feai 
 *' what is salutary ; nor can any person lo\ c uliat 
 " he fears. No person is so much a child as to be 
 *' afraid of Cerberus." And he joins the Epicu- 
 reans in their contempt of every thing in the hifer- 
 nal regions. (Ep. 24.) 
 
 It appears from the v»'ritings of Arrian, that tlie 
 common people among the heathens were ^^ery re- 
 ligious in their way. " No person," he says (Lib. 
 iii. cap. 21.) " leaves a port without sacrificing to 
 *' the gods ; nor do husbandmen sow without in- 
 Q 4. " yoking 
 
£4 ^^ TIIF. fHILO SOPHY 
 
 " yoking Ceres. W'ould any person who should 
 *' neglect such duties be safe ?" 
 
 lie must liavc thought, however, that such rites 
 as these took thcplace of duties of more importance, 
 when he said (Lib. ii. cap. 7.) ''Bv means of un- 
 *' seasonable divination many duties aie neglqcW. 
 ♦' ed." 
 
 Sectiox II. 
 Of the Soul of Man, avd its Power. 
 
 We have seen enough, it miglit be tliought, of 
 the consequences which the Stoics chew from their 
 opinion of the derivation of the souls of men from 
 the supreme intelligence, in ascribing to tliem si- 
 milar powers, especially that of absolute self-suffi- 
 ciency, and a total independence on even' thing fo- 
 reign to itself, even, on the body, to ^hieh it is, 
 hovv'e\er, necessarily connected at present. But 
 arrogant as is the language of Marcus Antoninus 
 and Ej)ictctus on the subject, it falls short of tliat 
 of Seneca, 
 
 One ob-sious similarity between God and man 
 is their relation to matter. *' The place," says 
 Seneca (Ep. 65.) " that God has in the world, the 
 
 " mind 
 
OF THE STOICS. 247 
 
 ** mind has in man. He works upon matter, and 
 *' tl^e mind upon the body." But he surely eould 
 pot tliink that the supreme mind was as necessari^ 
 Jy attached to the material system as to be aiFected 
 by every thing that passes in it, as the mind is by 
 the affections of the body ; which, though it may 
 make light of it, has no power to free itself. The 
 union of the soul with the supreme ii^telligence, 
 notwithstanding its present separation from it, is 
 thus maintained by Seneca. " There is nothing," 
 he says, (Ep. 92.) <* improper in endeavouring to 
 " ascend from whence we came. Why should 
 ** we not think there is something divine in a good 
 *' man, since he is part of God. The whole sys, 
 " tern is one, and is God. We are his compani- 
 ^* ons, and members of him." 
 
 To christians, who believe that there is an infi- 
 nite difference between God and man ; and his in- 
 finite superiority to us, notwithstanding our being 
 said to be made in his image ^ and to resemble iiim 
 in some respects, the language of Seneca respect- 
 ing their equality is truly shocking. " A good 
 " man," he says, (De Provid. chap. 1. & 2.) '^ dif- 
 *' fers froni God only with respect to time. He is; hior 
 *' disciple, his emulator, and true offspring, whom 
 *' he educates ^\ith severity, to prepare him for 
 Q 5. '' him 
 
248 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 ** himself; but no real evil can bcfal a good man. 
 *' God," he farther says (Ep. 73.) " is not superi- 
 ** or to man in liappincss, but only in time ";' and 
 *' virtue is not greater for being of longer continu- 
 " ance." What he says above of God training up 
 good men to .prepare them for himself is a truly 
 fine sentiment, though connected with so much 
 extravagance. 
 
 Seneca g()es be3'ond Marcus Antoninus in his 
 boasting of the all sufficiency of the mind of man 
 with respect to happiness, and its independence on 
 every thing foreign to itself. "It is,"hcsiiys, 
 (De Consol. ad. Hclv. c. 5.) " in the power of eve- 
 • ' vy man to make himself happy . With respect to 
 him.self," he says, " I assure you I am not unhap- 
 *' py, (miserum)," and, m.oreover, that I cannot be 
 " so (lb. c. 4.) If small things cannot affect a wise 
 *' man, (De Constant. Sap. c. 15.) neither can 
 *' greater things ; if not a few, neither many. I 
 *' would persuade you neA'er to pity a good man, 
 *' De Prov. c. 3.) for though he may seem to be 
 *' miserable, he cannot be so." 
 
 To manv this would seem a difficult attainment, 
 
 but not so to our author. " What does reason 
 
 *' require of man, but the easiest things, (Ep. 41.) 
 
 <' viz. to live according to nature. A wise man is 
 
 " no 
 
Of THE STOICS. 249 
 
 ** no creature of imagination. There arc many 
 " examples of it, and Cato seems to have exceed- 
 " ed what v/as required of him." (Dc Const. Sap. 
 c 7. 
 
 This extraordinary power, it is evident, howe- 
 ver, that Arrian restricts to philosophers. '* Philoso- 
 " phy," says he, (Lib. ii. cap. I.) '' allows none to 
 " be free, but those who have been instructed (TriTra/- 
 " Sfi/ufvc/) that is, God does not permit it." Again 
 he says, (Lib. ii. cap. 19.) " She v/ me a person 
 *' who is sick and happy, in danger and iiappy, 
 " dj'ing and happy, banished and happy, disgraced 
 ** and happy, such a one is a Stoic." Bat, sure- 
 ly, such a one is rather a christian, hh source oi 
 consolation under the evils mentioned alone, be- 
 ing infinitely superior to any that the Stoics could 
 have recourse to, and accessible to persor^s of the 
 meanest capacity, such as they could ae\ cr have 
 adopted, or indeed have understood, viz. the 
 distinction of things within the power of the mind, 
 and things foreign to it, in the sense of tlic Stoics, 
 As to dying circumstances, there caimot, surely, 
 be a question of the superior happiness of the eliris- 
 tian, for reasons obvious enough, and enlarged up- 
 on in the preceding scclion. 
 
 *' The 
 
^50 OF TJIE rUILO'SOPJlT 
 
 The po^\cr of llie mind o\ct tlic bocly is ralh(^ 
 -Inorc strongly expressed b}' Arrian than by any 
 other Stoic writer. *' My IkicK," he sa^ys, (Lib. 
 iii. cap.) 22. " is not me, its parts arc nothing to 
 •' mc. Death is nothing to me, let it come when 
 " it will." He supposes a dialogue between a t}'- 
 rantanda philosopher that is truly curious for tl>e 
 extravagance of it. The tyrant says (Lib. i. cap. L) 
 ** You shall die."" The philosopher replies, "but 
 ** not lamenting. T. You shall be in chains. P. 
 ♦' But not whining. T. You shall be banished. 
 *' P. But what hinders my going laughing. T. 
 •* Tell me your secrets. P. No, that is in my 
 '^ power. T. But I will tlirow }ou into chains. 
 " P, What say you, man? You may bind my 
 -•' feet, but Jupiter himself c^^nnot change my reso- 
 " lution. T. I will throw you into prison, and 
 ** strike oif your head. P. And did I ever say 
 *' that you could not strike it off? T. I will kill 
 " you. P. When did I say that I \\as immortal ? 
 *^ These things," he says, *' must be thought of, 
 " and meditated upon." 
 
 In one place, however, Arrian seems willing to 
 make some allowance for the A\takness of human 
 nature, and especially on account of the necessary 
 influence of die body over the mind. " If the 
 
 " rods/' 
 
OF THE STOICS/ 251 
 
 ** gods," he says, (Lib. i. cap. 1.) ''were willing 
 *' to gnint us the command of the thing;s that are 
 '' out of our power^tliey could not do it. Fof 
 ** while wc itfc upon tlis earth, and are tied to snch 
 *' bodies, imd sucti compaiilofis, ho\v is it possi!)!? 
 " but that things foreign ta us must be an impedi- 
 *' meiit to Ub." 
 
 Seueca, whose luxurious and splendid mode of 
 living did but ill con-espond with the maxims of 
 his philosophy, and wliose flattery of the em])croi-y 
 whom he must Jiave despised, was fulsome in ilie 
 extreme, seems disposed to make still more allow- 
 ance for the weakness of human nature than any 
 other of the Stoics. " I v/ou Id prefer pleasure,'' 
 he says, (Ep. 66.) " to pain if the choice was 
 " proposed to me, because the former is more a- 
 " greeable to nature, and the latter contrary to it.'^ 
 But for the very same reason, is not every thing 
 tliat men call good more agreeable to nature, than 
 those that we agree to call emils ; and ho\v, on this 
 concession, could pleasure and pain be classed a- 
 mong the things that are perfectly indilFerent to a 
 philosopher ? 
 
 When his luxurious life was objected to him, 
 he said, after reciting the particulars of it. " These 
 *^ things are apud ?7i^, (in my pos5Cssion) but at 
 
 " tlie 
 
252 OF THE I'HILOCOPnv 
 
 ** the f:ame time they nrc extra me^ (foreign to me, 
 " i. c. to my mind") (Dc Vita, beata. cap. 23.} a 
 ** pretty nice, but convenient distinction." Ac- 
 cording to him, a more ingenious acknowledg- 
 mcnt was made by Plato and l^picurus, when the 
 same objection ^vas made to them. For tliey said, 
 *' that men should hve accordinsr to what thev 
 " thought, not as they themselves lived." (lb 18.) 
 It Is not probable, however, that either of these 
 men v.ould have said this in earnest. Others 
 mnv have said it for diem, as Jesus did of die 
 Scribes and Pharisees. 
 
 Section III. 
 
 Of Moral Precepts. 
 
 Arrian has many excellent moral precepts ; but 
 as they are similar to those of IVIarcus Antoninus 
 abo\'e recited, they need not be repeated here. A- 
 mong other things he says, (Lib. ii. cap. 6.) " Life 
 *' is a thing indifferent, but not so die use of it. 
 *' Difficulties shew who arc men. When you 
 '* meet with them (Lib. i. cap. 24.) remember 
 " that God is making you engage with a rough and 
 " expert antagonist.'* 
 
 As 
 
or THE STOICS. 253 
 
 As the Stoics made no allowance for the ialiil- 
 gence of any passion^ or emotion^ which tliey refer- 
 red to mere animal nature, tlie}- equally condemn- 
 ed anger and compassion. *' Anger," says Seneca 
 (Deira ii. cap. 14.) " is never to be indulged, but 
 " only the appeai^ance of it to excite othcES as a 
 " spur to a horse. A good man (lb. C.) is inca- 
 *' pable of inflicting punishment ; but anger is a 
 " punishment, and thererorc anger it not natural." 
 On this subject, as well as on eve:y other hov/ 
 much more natural is the doctrine of the scrip- 
 tures, which alms not at the extirpations of any of 
 our passions, but only at the due regulation of 
 them. Be ye angry ^ but sin not. Let not the sun 
 go down upon your ivrat/i. " Compassion," he 
 says (Clem. ii. cap. 4.) *' is a vice of tlie mind, 
 " in the view of the miseries of others. A v> ise 
 " man will relieve a person that weeps, but he will 
 •' not weep with him (cap. 6.) He will relieve the 
 *' distressed, but without feeling compassion." 
 
 On the subject of self murder AiTian seems ta 
 be inconsistent. " God," he says (Lib. i. cap. 29.) 
 *' requires such a world as this, and those tliat are 
 " in it. If he order a retreat, as in the case of So- 
 ** crates, we should yield obedience, as to a com- 
 
 " mandep 
 
^54 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " mander in chief." But on another occasion ho 
 supposes that men ha\'e a right to judge for them- 
 selves in this case, without waiting for the orders 
 of any su perior. Addressing a discontented per- 
 son he says, (Lib.i. cap. .9) " You slave, if you be 
 " not satisfied, go out of life. The gate is open.'* 
 
 Seneca is (juite decided in favour of the latter opi- 
 nion. *' If you dislike life," he says (De Prov. 
 c. 6.) the door is open. If you will not fight, you 
 " may fly." He frequently commends Cato for 
 putting im end to his own life : He even says (Ep. 
 13.) " Take away the sword from Cato, and you 
 " take from him a great part of his gloiy " 
 
 The indifference that he expressed to life or death 
 would appear affected, as his Umguage certainly 
 is on other occasions, but that he actually did meet 
 death with sufficient fortitude, at the command of 
 a cruel and capricious tyrant. " Death," he says 
 (Ep. 21.) " is so far from being to be feared, that 
 *' nothing is to be preferred to tlie benefit to be de^ 
 ** rived from it." Lipsius, however, proposes a- 
 nother reading) which softens this. He also says 
 (Ep. 54.) " We know what death is. It is to be 
 *' \vhat we were before we ^ve^e bom, when we 
 *' had no sense of t"u?7." But it follows ft-om this 
 that neither shall we have after death a sense of any 
 
OF THE STOICS. 255 
 
 good. And this seems to have been the real opi- 
 nion of all the later heathen philosophers, not- 
 withstiuiding what they sometimes say of the im- 
 mortality oi'' die souh When, in his eloquent 
 manner, he describes the destriietion and renovati- 
 on of the world hes:iys (De Cortjolatione adMarci- 
 am. cap. 26.) "We also, happy souls, when it 
 *' shall please God to renew all things, shall only 
 *' be a small addition to the immense ruin, and 
 *' shall be changed into theaniient elements." 
 
 What he says to Marcia, (cap. 25.) of her son 
 being received by the Scipio's and Cato's ; See. af- 
 ter his death, could only be said by way of accom- 
 modation to heropinioni, and as a topic of consola- 
 tion, and not his own real belief. 
 
 R. 
 
 THE 
 
25« 
 
 THE 
 
 PlilLOSOPHY 
 
 of 
 EPICURUS. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 JL he only sect of Grecian philosophy tliat re- 
 mains to be considered, as coming within my ob- 
 ject, of a comparison of them with tlic system of 
 revelation, is that oi Epicurus which arose present- 
 ly after that of the Stoics, to which it was, in many 
 respects, opposite and hostile ; the one being re- 
 markable for its austerity, and the other for its ease 
 in the conduct of life ; the one for a belief in a di- 
 vine pro\idcnce, as superintending eveiy thing in 
 the world, and the other for the utter neglect and 
 contempt of religion in every form. There was 
 also another source of opposition and hostility be- 
 tu-een the two. All the philosophers w ho had pre- 
 cecded Epicurus, the Stoics among the rest, had 
 deserted the plain maxims of Socrates, and spent 
 
 the 
 
bF THE PHILOSOPHY, 8cC. 257 
 
 the greatest part of their time on Logic and Meta- 
 phvsicks, of no use whatever in the conduct of 
 life; whereas Epicurus, following the steps of 
 their common master, held all their subtle disputa- 
 tions on these subjects in the greatest contempt, 
 and made the true enjoyment of life the great ob- 
 ject of his philosophy. And considering that the 
 great doctrine of a future state was in fact exclud- 
 ed from all their systems, there was more of reason 
 and good sense indie maxims of Epicurus than in 
 theirs; especially as, though he maintained diat 
 pleasure was the great end of life, he did not, as wc 
 shall see, mean sensual pleasure, but the happmess 
 of man upon the whole, in which temperance, and 
 every virtue, was an essential ingredient. 
 
 Epicurus also differed from other philosophers 
 in the circumstances of his leaching, more resem- 
 bling a society of friends, than that of master and 
 scholars. Their meetings were held in a private 
 garden of his own ; and the friendship of this fra- 
 ternity Cicero spake of in the highest temis. (A- 
 cad. Lib. 20.) though they had not every thing in 
 common, like the disciples of Pythagoras. 
 
 Though we have no proper treatise oi^ Epicu- 
 rus, we have several of his letters preserved by Di- 
 ogenes Laertius, especially one to Herodotus, in 
 R 2. which^ 
 
Cj8 OV the PHILOiOrHY 
 
 which he profcbscs to give aii outline of his princi- 
 ples. And the poem of Lucretius contains a dc- 
 velopcnient oi' the w 'nole of iiis pliilosophy. From 
 these it is ea^y to form a very complete idea oi his 
 tenets; and from these, and seme of his sayingy 
 tjuotedby Seneea, the following account is given. 
 
 Section I* 
 
 >0f God and of tlic Structure of the Unhcrsd. 
 
 Fpicurus's triumph over religion in all its 
 forms, and thereby delivering men from the fear of 
 death, Ava.s the great boast of all his followers, this 
 victor}- (Lucretius says Lib. i. V. 78.) has raised 
 men from earth to heaAcn, and by this means he 
 has conferred greater benefit on mankind than Ce- 
 res in giving diem bread, or Bacchus in giving 
 them wine (lb. Lib. v. V. 15.) Religion he consi- 
 dered as having done unspeakable mischief to man- 
 kind, and in jxirticulMr instances the sacrifice of 
 Iphigenia, the daughter of Agamemnon to Dia- 
 na, of w hich he gives a verj- afiecting description* 
 (Lucret. Lib. i. V. 85.) 
 
 Kpicunis did not, ho\ve\er deny the existence 
 of gods, imd though this is commonly thought to 
 
 have 
 
OF TilE STOICS. 259 
 
 hn\^ been only ^^'ith a view to his safety ; since by 
 an open profession of atheism he would ha\'e been 
 exposed ^o the rigour of the Athenian laws, I think 
 he iniglit have been -/ery sincere in that opinion ; 
 tH'n];ina^, with all other philosophers, that every 
 pir» of the univci'se was replete v»'ith inhabitants, 
 ctiited to their natures, the gods occupying the 
 higher regions, demons the middle, and men the 
 earth. Wliat lie openly maintained v/as that, tho' 
 there ere go^k t\\cy take no thought about 
 thj affairs of thh vrorld. " The god*," he 
 says (Diog. Laert. pag. 785.) " are immortal 
 ** and happy beings *^-*' but not such as tlie 
 *' vulgar opinion makes them to be;" and hav- 
 ing said that happiness is two fold, he adds tliat 
 '*' supreme hapj^iness is that of the gods A\'hlch ad- 
 " mits of no addition." (lb 783-4.) 
 
 The reason that he gives for this opinion is, that 
 happiness could not consist vidth the ti'ouble and 
 "care which he thought must attend the go^'cm- 
 ment of the world, though he seems to ha\c 
 thought that they had something to do in the up- 
 per regions, which are nearest to them. Speaking 
 of the motions, and other properties of meteors, lie 
 says (lb. 755.) " They are not directed by any 
 *' thing besides tlie ord;:r and appointment of him 
 
 '' who 
 
062 or THF. rniT.osopHT 
 
 *' ^vho has all happiness and immortality. For it 
 ' is inconsistent with haj)piuciis to ha\e business, 
 *' and cares, or to be affected by anger, or favour, 
 •' These l^elongto beings subject to infirmity, and 
 " fear, who stand in need of others." Again he 
 says, (lb. 735.) " Whoever is happy, and immor- 
 ** lal, neither has any troublesome business him- 
 " self, nor gives trouble to others ; and in conse- 
 " quencc of this he is neidier moved by anger 
 " or favour." 
 
 As to the charge of impiety he says, (lb. 786.) 
 " he is not guilty of impiety who Uikes from the 
 *' muliiplicity of Gods, but he who adopts the opi- 
 *' nion of the multitude concerning them," Lu- 
 cretius ascribes the origin, and the frightful effects 
 cf religion upon the human mind, in part to what 
 people' see, or imagine they sec, in dreams, as well 
 as to the regular course of the heavenly bodies, 
 and to die terror excited by storms, thunder, light- 
 ening, earthquakes, &c. For seeing no cause 
 of these things, men ascribe them to some un- 
 known invisible beings, whose po\ver was great, 
 and tremendous. (Lucret. Lib. v. V. 1165. &.c. 
 
 Considering the vulgar superstition, ajid the 
 serious eli'ccts of it in human sacrifices, prostituti- 
 on? 
 
OF THE STOICS. 261 
 
 ons in religious rites, divination, and its distruct- 
 ing influence in the common business of life, it 
 may well be questioned whetlier it was not wiser, 
 with Epicurus, to reject it altogether, than to re- 
 tain it in any form or degree. Nay I doubt not 
 but the system of Pol}-theism and Idolatry took 
 more from the happiness of mankind than either 
 Epicurus or Lucretius suspected. Epicurus, 
 however, well knew that none of the philosophers 
 maintained the vulgar opinions, but much more 
 honourable ideas of tlie divinity and the govern- 
 ment (y. the worlds opinions highly pleasing to good 
 men, and perhaps some restraint upon the wicked ; 
 and we shall see that his ideas of the govenuuent 
 of tlie world, and the direction of it, \vhich diffeied 
 exceedingly from those of other philosophers, \verc 
 absurd in the extreme, in supposing that there A\as 
 no wisdom, design, or a regard to final causes, in 
 tilings that most of all required tliem. 
 
 The Atomical system, which ^^ as oi7j:)osed to 
 that of Plato, and most other philosophers, who 
 held that the world was formed by an intelligent 
 principle, out of pre-existent matter, and that it 
 was finite, was first suggested by Democritus, but 
 adopted by Epicurus. He maintained that there 
 was no wisdom employed in the arrangement of 
 R 4. any 
 
262 or THE riiiLosofHY 
 
 any part of the system, !)ut that it arose from the 
 foiiuitous concourse of atoms, moving at random 
 in all directions. " Tliesc atoms" he says, (Dioc^. 
 Lacrt. p. 74 1.) " have no properties besides those 
 "of figure, gravity and magnitude; but being 
 *' perfectly hard, though of difttrcnt forms, they 
 " are incapable of destruction, or change." The 
 construction of the world, according to Lucretius, 
 is too faulty to have aiisen fiom a principle of in- 
 telligence anddcsign^ (Lucret. Lib. ii. V. 180.) 
 
 The universe having come into existence from 
 these materials, "it must." Epicurus s;,; s (lb. 
 733.) " be infinite. For had there been any bounds 
 *' to it, the parts of which it consists would have 
 "been dispersed into infinite space; having no; 
 " place to fix in, and nothirig to stop their motion,'*^ 
 n^oreo^•er, since the giving these floating atoms, 
 every chance for. their fortunate meeting, so as to. 
 form such a compieie system as this, must have re- 
 quirLti ahnobt infinite time hcibre it could have 
 taken place, he maintained, contrary to die opinion 
 of many other philosophers that " the world had a 
 "beginning, and will have an end. (Lib. v. V. 
 245.) Since the continual contention, and dispo- 
 sition to motion, in the elements of \\ Inch it con- 
 sists will in course of time efl'cct its compleat dis- 
 solution 
 
OF THE STOICS. 263 
 
 solution. He even thought there were already 
 evident signs of a tendency to decay and disso- 
 lution in the earth, and that there has been a great 
 degeneracy in all its productions, animals being 
 now of less size and strength than they were for- 
 merly, and all the products of the earth requiring 
 the labour of man which they did not originally, 
 when every thing for the use of man was produced 
 by it spontaneously (Lucret. Lib. ii. V. 1150. and 
 1170.) so that in time every thing will probably 
 decline more and more, and the a\ hole go to decay 
 and ruin. But since nothing could be formed 
 out of nothing, the atoms of which it consists can 
 only be dispersed to form other systems, and can ne- 
 ver be annihilated (Lucret. Lib. i. V. 150. 8c21G.} 
 But before this event takes place Epicurus main- 
 •tained that, with the exception of the gradual de- 
 cay mentioned above, " every thing is now as it 
 *' ever has been, and will continue to be ; since 
 there is nothing into which it can be changed, and 
 no superior power to make a change in it. (Diog. 
 Laert. p. 732.) 
 
 In the same manner as this world was formed, 
 viz. by the random concourse of atoms, since the 
 universe has no bounds, " other worlds," Epicu- 
 rus says (Diog. Laert. p. 735. and 73G.) ''have, 
 115. "no 
 
264 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 *' no doubt been formed in the same manner; and 
 " there is no reason w hy there may not be an in- 
 *' finity of them, similar or dissimilar to this. 
 *' For the atoms of which they are eomposed are 
 " infinite, and earried to the greatest chstances." 
 
 Such wild and absurd schemes, altogether un- 
 worthy of examination or refutation, may the most 
 ingenious of men be led to form for want of at- 
 tention to a few fundamental principles, and those 
 of the most obvious nature. For what can be 
 more evident than that there are infinite marks of 
 design, and what we call contrivance, in the sti'uc- 
 ture of the world, and of ever)- j>lant and animal 
 in it. Epicurus must have maintained that tlie 
 eye was not formed for seeing, nor the ear for hear, 
 ing; but that being so formed, by this fortuitous 
 concourse of atoms, they were found to be capa- 
 ble of these particular uses. Other philosophers, 
 however, were not backward to acknowledge the 
 reality of final causes, and consequently of design 
 in the structure of the world, and of every part of 
 it, and it is certainly unspeakably more satisfactory- 
 to acknowlede, than to deny, this. W^e have 
 then some superior intelligence to look to, as a be- 
 ing to whom this world, and ourselves as a part of 
 it, belong ; and who ^^ ill take some care of \\\mi 
 
 witli 
 
OF THE STOICS. 
 
 265 
 
 With such exqaisite skill, he has planned and exe- 
 cuted. 
 
 Section II. 
 
 Of the Human Soul. 
 
 Since, according to Epicurus, every thing is in 
 U perpetual flux, through the constant tendency to 
 motion in its primary atoms, it could not be sup- 
 posed that he would, with many other philoso- 
 phers, maintain cither the pre-existence, or tiie im- 
 mortality of the soul. Accordingly he denies, and 
 even ridicules, diem both ; using however one just 
 argument, though he was little aware of the real 
 nature or extent of it, viz. "All thought arises 
 from the impression made on the bodily senses,'* 
 (Diog. Laert. p. 727.) thinking it to follow from 
 this, that the soul, on which the impressions wcvo. 
 made, was equally corporeal with the objects from 
 which they came. 
 
 His principal argument, however, is that there 
 is nothing in nature besides body and space ^ m 
 which bodies can be placed, and mo^•ed. " There 
 " is nothing," he says (lb. 732) *' but what can 
 *' be handled," or become the object of our sen- 
 ses. 
 
ilGG or THE PHILOSOPHT 
 
 ibcs.*' " Wc cannot even form an idea of any thinir 
 ** cli;e. Nothing," he says, (lb. 749.) " is incor- 
 ** poreal,*' (which all other piniosophers held the 
 soul to be) " besides a -cacuulii^ whidi only affords 
 " room for bodies to move in." He adds '* they 
 " who siy that the soul is incorporeal tilk fool- 
 y ishh". (at7a/a{c;<r;v)" 
 
 The soul, then, being corporeal, must be a part 
 of the body, as much as the hands or the feet (Lu- 
 cret. Lib. iii. v. 95.) eiich having their several 
 functions; and as the soul had no pre-cxistencc, 
 ^ must have been produced at the same time w ith 
 tlie body, grow up, and decay, with it. (Lucrct. 
 Lib. iii. v. 455.). Being a body, it must consist 
 of particles of some particular kind or form, and 
 *' those that constitute the soul," he says, (Diog. 
 Laert. p. 747.) " are the smallest and rouudcst of 
 •* all ; but they must be dispersed when tlie body 
 *' dies, as every other part of it is." (lb. 748.) 
 
 It is difficult to form any clear or consistent idea 
 of Epieurus's opinion concerning the different 
 parts of the soul, of their sc\eral functions, and 
 jplacc in the body. In his letter to Herodotus he 
 mentions onl}- t\\ o parts, one that has re-.son, and 
 another tlut is destitute of it. " The rational 
 
 ** part," 
 
or THE STCICS. 
 
 
 ^' part," he says»(Ib. 74.8.) '' rcbidcs m tlie breast, 
 '' as b iiiari'rfest from the passions of fear and joy." 
 But,accormng to Lucretius, there are three, or c- 
 ven four parts in the soul ; and yet when he speakai 
 of tliree paits, he mentions only the Animus and 
 the Anima; but the third seems to be the breath 
 which leaves us when we die. (Lucret. Lib. iii. 
 V. 231. to 245.) Afterwaixls, however, lie says 
 that diese three parts are not suHzcient, but that 
 <' a fourth which has no name nvast be added, and 
 »' this is the cause of universal sensation ; though, 
 " like the other parts, it consists of the smallest par- 
 «' ticlcs of matter.'* (Lucret. Lib. iii V. 236.) 
 That heat enters into the composition of the soul, 
 appears, he says, (Lucret. Lib. iii. V. 290.) 
 \\\\zn we are angry, and in the habits of fierce 
 animals, as lions, &c. and that air is another part 
 of it, appears when we are cool arid serene, and in 
 the cold dispositions of the deer, and tame ani- 
 mals. 
 
 Since the soul, according to Epicurus, is not 
 immortal, death must be the extinction of our be- 
 ing ; and the dread of this is represented by him 
 and Lucretius as the gi'eatest of all evils, and \\ hat 
 most of all tends to embitter human life, as it must 
 to tliose who have any enjoyment of it, and have 
 
 nothing. 
 
2C8 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 nothing to look to beyond it. " Take a young- 
 *' man," he says, as he is quoted by Seneca (Ep. 
 22.) '* an old man, or one of" middle age, you will 
 *' find them equally afraid of dying, though cqual- 
 *' ly ignorant, of life." In order to relieve the 
 mind from this terror, he says with other philoso- 
 phers, (lb. 786.) '* Accustom yourself to think 
 *' that dcatli is nothing to us. For both good and 
 " c\il consist in sensation, and death is a privation 
 " of all sense." Again he says, (lb. 786.) " deadv 
 '* the most dreadful of all evils, is nothing to us ; 
 ^' because while we live death is not present, and 
 *' when death comes we iu-e not." This poor wit- 
 ticism is not, however, calculated to give much 
 consolation to a man who is sensible of the approach 
 of death, and who is unwilling to part with life. 
 
 There are two sentences of Epicurus concern- 
 ing death, preserved by Seneca, which have more 
 of good sense in them. " It is," he says (Ep 24.) 
 *' ridiculous to fly to death through a wearisorne- 
 ** ness of life, after living in such a manner as that 
 ** death is the only and the last resource." A- 
 gain (Ep. 26.) " Think whether it is more desira- 
 *' ble for death to come to us, or for us to go to it ; 
 " that is, since death will come, it is better to meet 
 
 " it 
 
PF THE STOICS. 269 
 
 " it cheerfully." But in vain are all the topics of 
 consolaUon against the fear of death to men who 
 love life, and yet have no hope of sur\'iving the 
 grave, and this hope is no where given but in re- 
 velation. 
 
 Section III. 
 Of Human Life and Happiness. 
 
 Admitting what, in fact, all the Grecian philoso- 
 phers did, viz. that there is no future state, the 
 maxims of Epicurus respecting this life, and the 
 proper objects of choice in it, are far more reason- 
 able than those of any of the other sects. Sincfe 
 (as he insinuates) tliere is no life beyond this, " It 
 *' is," he says (Diog. Laert. p. 758.) " our bu- 
 " siness to make the most of the things that are 
 " present, and exclude all causes of anxiety. The 
 " end of all," he says, (lb. 788.) " is to live well, 
 " and happily. For we do e^'ery thing to avoid 
 "grief and perturbation." He therefore adds, 
 (lb. 789.) that " pleasure is the end and object of 
 " life, bat not all kinds of pleasure, For some 
 " we decline because they are all attended with 
 ^* more pahi, and some pains we chuse for the sake 
 
 *'oC 
 
5270 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " of tlic pleasures that follow them. Perturbali- 
 " on," lie says, (lb. 758.) " is ineident to men in 
 *' tills life, eapeeiuUy to those who dread what, ac- 
 " cordii'.i; to fabulous aecounts, wc may meet with 
 ** after death, as if there was any diing after death. 
 *' But I)y living without perturbation wc live," he 
 says, (lb. 759.) "as gods among men." For 
 this we ha\ e seen to be liis idea of the state of the 
 gods. 
 
 It is probable that Epieurus was led by natural 
 inclination to a quiet unambitious life. This he 
 thovight to be most favourable to the true enjov- 
 ment of it, and therefore he recommended it to o- 
 thers, and advised diem to avoid whatever might 
 interfere with it. " A wise man," he says (lb. 
 782.) " will marry and have children, but he >\ill 
 *' have no concern in public affairs." lliis wa* 
 probably to avoid ever)- jealousy and opposition, 
 ^\idi 1^11 the unpleasant consequences of them, un- 
 avoidable to men in public life. For it could not 
 be from idleness, in a man "s\ho MTote so many 
 books, and who employed so much of his time in 
 the instruction of others. From a similar motive 
 he might say, (lb. 784.) " A wise man will make 
 •' use of poems, but will not compose any him- 
 ♦' self." Agreeably to diis he says, (lb. 761.) 
 
 " the. 
 
K 
 
 or THE STOICS, 271 
 
 " the happiness of life does not require viuity, or 
 ** vain glory," which he might think to be particu- 
 larly conspicuous in poets, " but in tranquility 
 " and security." 
 
 In order to secure his favourite tranquility, he 
 recommended the practice of universal virtue ; and 
 according to all accounts, his own life was v.ithout 
 reproach in this respect. " The virtues," he says, 
 (lb. 795.) " are chosen for the sake of pleasure, 
 *' and not on their own account;" which is true 
 when properly explained. For when the two are 
 compared, happiness appears to be the end^ and 
 virtue the means, though the necessary means, to 
 attain it. 
 
 He justly represents the chief cause of perturba- 
 tion, and consequently of unhappiness in general, 
 to be wrong dispositions of mind, which he says it 
 is the business of philosophy to correct. '' What 
 " men suffer," he says, (lb. 781.) "from hatred, 
 " envy or contempt, a man may overcome by rea- 
 ** son ; and he who has once been m ise will not 
 *' acquire different habits, or yield to any cause of 
 ** perturbation, or to any thing else that may retard 
 " his progress in knowledge. A wise man," he 
 says, (lb. 784.) " will not be affected if iuiother be 
 S. " said 
 
172 OF lllE IMIILOSOPHY 
 
 ** said to l»e ^^ i>xr tb.an he." On tliis account he rc- 
 comnjcnds an application to philosophy at all times 
 of life. " If any jirson say it is too soon or too 
 " late to apply to philosophy, it is, he says, tliesame 
 " th/ing as if he said it is too late or too soon to be 
 "happy." (lb. 785.) 
 
 The life of Epicurus Mas according to all ac- 
 counts con.formable to his precepts ; and so far 
 was he or his disciples from habits of self-indul- 
 gence, that no persons lived more abstemiously, on 
 the plainest food, and drinking little besides a\ ater. 
 (lb. 713.) V\'liat he himself says on this subject, 
 (lb. 790.) is particularly deserving of attention. 
 
 V/e consider frugality," he says, "as a great 
 " good, not that we should always live spaiinglv, 
 " but that when we cannot do otherwise, we may 
 " be satisfied with a little, and ha^•e a greater en- 
 " joyment of abundcUice when we have it. Plain 
 *' bread i:nd watci- give the greatest pleasure when 
 "they iU"C wanted; and to accustom oncs'selfto 
 " plain food, not exquisitely prepared, contii- 
 " butes both to health and activity for all the pur- 
 " poses of life, and makes us not to ditad bad for- 
 " tune. When, therefore, we say that pleasure is 
 " the end of life, it is not the pleasure of the luxu- 
 <" rious and the spendthrift, w hich consists in cat- 
 
 "ing 
 
i 
 
 OF THE STOICS. 273 
 
 " ing and drinking to excess, wliichcome, through 
 ** ignorance or perverseness, say that we maintain, 
 " but to be free from pain of body and to enjoy 
 " tranquility of mind, free from all perturbation. 
 *' There is no living pleasantly but by living pru- 
 *' dently, honorably, and justly. For the virtues 
 " are connected with a delightful and pleasant life, 
 *' and cannot be seperated from ihcm." Epicu- 
 rus must have been of a pleasant, social, and bene- 
 volent turn of mind, to have attached so many per- 
 sons to him as is universally acknov. ledged that he 
 did. He says, (lb. 801.) *' the most valuable 
 ** thing in life is the acquisition of friendship. " 
 
 I shall conclude this article with some valuable 
 sayings of Epicurus, quoted by Seneca. " If you 
 '' live according to nature, you will never be poor, 
 '* but if you live according to the opinion of others, 
 "you will never be rich (Ep. 10.) The man 
 *' who lives upon bread and water can never be 
 " poor ; and he who can confine his desires to 
 ** this, may vie with Jupiter for happiness (Ep. 25.) 
 *' First consider with whom you eat and drink ; 
 " and then what you eat and drink (Ep. 19.) They 
 ** live ill who are always beginning to live." 
 (Ep. 23.) 
 
 Thus wc have seen that, at the commencement 
 S 2. of 
 
£74 OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 cFour cnqiiin-, all the more intelligent Gixeks re- 
 tiiined the belief of the exist/^ncc of one Supreme 
 B;ing, the mnkcrofthe world, and of all Lliinj^s in 
 it, though aided by a muliiplicii}'^ of inferior ones 
 in the g;overnmcnt of it : of the constant attention 
 ofthii great Beinr^ to uU Iranian affairs, of his love 
 ofAartue, and abhorrence of vice, and of such an 
 administration of the- world, as that the wicked 
 \\ill generally meet with tlieir due punishment, and 
 the virtuous \a 1th dieir jMoper reward ; that the 
 souls of all men arc immortal, and v, ill be more 
 fully rewarded or punished, according to their de- 
 fcrts, in a future state. But as v^e have advanced, 
 we have found these principles and motives of moral 
 CfMxUict grow^ more obscure, till at last they en- 
 tire ly vanished; other principles, utterly inconsist- 
 ent with them, being generally received ; as that of 
 the derivation of all human souls from the sub- 
 tance of the Supreme Being, and their final ab- 
 sorption into tliC same source again, all individual 
 consciousness being thereby lost. The last of 
 these sects, viz. tliat of die Epicureans, who disco- 
 ver more good sense, and consister.cy in other re- 
 spects, disclaimed all belief of wisdom and design 
 indie construction of the universe, and of the pro- 
 \idcnce of God in any of the aiFuii-s of men at this 
 
 time 
 
OF THE STOICS. 2/5 
 
 tisTie, too, the last period of heathen philosophy, 
 all the sects, without exception, had abandoned 
 the belief of a future state of any kind. And yet, 
 with respect to mental ability, the founders of these 
 sects may be classed amon.g the first of the hu- 
 man race, sagacious, thoughtful, and laborious, 
 in the extreme. What prospect was there, then, 
 of the world ever becoming more enliglitened by 
 human wisdom, and the experiment was continued 
 a sufficient length of time, from Pythagoras to 
 Marcus Antoninus, a space of about seven hun- 
 dred years. 
 
 But what men could not do for themselves, it 
 pleased God to do for them ; and after giving 
 much light to one particular nation, hi the fulness 
 of time he sent Jesus Clirist, with aijundant evi- 
 dence of a divine mission to be the light of the 
 whole world. His doctrine, in a reasonable time, 
 through die instrumentality of men, to appearance 
 tlie least qualified for the undertaking, arid in spite 
 of all opposition from power, from prejudice, and 
 from heathen philosophy, establised itseli^, to the 
 utter overtlirow of all jDreceeding religions, which 
 having been maintained from time immemorial, 
 and thought to be connected with the well being 
 of t\zry state, had ever been held the most sa- 
 cred. 
 
27G or THE THILOSOPHY, ScC. 
 
 rrccl. At present no doubt is enteiHiincd l^y any 
 chrijitian of llic Li inc^ or providence of God in 
 this state, or of a ri;:^htcous retnl)ution in anotlier ; 
 so thiit nothi?ig is v.antinr, no principle or mothc^ 
 v.hateve*', to the virtue and happiness of man, hut 
 his receiving this divine light, andilvir.g acccrdinj^ 
 to it. 
 
 THE END. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Dedication page I. 
 
 Preface v. 
 
 On the STATE of RELIGIOUS and MORAL 
 
 PRINCIPLES in GREECE before the 
 
 time of PYTHAGORAS. 
 
 Introduction Page 1 
 
 Section I. Of the obligation to the Worship 
 
 of the Gods i?i general 5 
 
 II. Of the Superiority of Jupiter^ the 
 
 principal God of the Greeks 8 
 
 III. Of Promdence 10 
 
 IV. Of Jupiter'' s regard to Virtue 1 6 
 
 V. Of the Influence of the Fates 20 
 
 VI. Of Moral Duties, and also of 
 
 Death and the Consequences 
 
 of it 25 
 
 Of the PHILOSOPHY of PYTHAGORAS. 
 
 Introduction 28 
 
 Section I. Concerning God 31 
 
 II. Of the Structure of the World 3^ 
 
 III. Of the Human Soul 37 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 I\^ Of Good and E'oUy Firtuc and 
 
 yice 43 
 
 SOCRATES and JESUS COMPxVRED. 
 
 Introduction 47 
 
 S E c T 1 N I . Of the Polytheism and Idolatry 
 
 of Socrates 50 
 
 n. The Sentiments of Socrates con- 
 cerning the Cods and their 
 Providciice SZ 
 
 III. Of the Excellent Moral Charac- 
 
 ter of Socrates 58 
 
 IV. Ofthelmperjectionof Socrates's 
 
 idea concerning Piety and Fir. 
 tue in general 63 
 
 V^. Of Socrates'' s belief in a future 
 
 State 70 
 
 VI. Of the Djemon of Socrates 78 
 
 \\\. Of the Character and Teaching 
 of Socrates covipared 'iuith 
 those of Jesus 86 
 
 ATII, Of the different Objects of the 
 Instructions of Socrates and of 
 Jesus 100 
 
 IX. Inferences to be draivnfrom the 
 comparison of Socrates and 
 J<'siis . 105 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 On PLATONISM. 
 
 Introduction 121 
 
 Section I. Of God and of his Providence 123 
 
 IL Of the Polytheism of Plato 135 
 
 III. Of the Human Soul 143 
 
 IV. Of Firiues and Vices 147 
 
 V. Of Deaths and the Consequences 
 
 of it 153 
 
 Of the PHILOSOPHY of ARISTOTLE. 
 
 Introduction IGl 
 
 Sjectign I. Of the Beings the Attributes, 
 
 and the Promdence, of God 165 
 
 II. Of the Human Soul 17G 
 
 III, Of HappinesSy and of Virtue 
 
 and Vice 179 
 
 Of the STOICAL PHILOSOPHY of MAR^ 
 CUS ANTONINUS and EPIC- 
 TETUS. 
 
 Introduction 186 
 
 Section I. Of God and Providence 183 
 
 II. Of the Human Soul 197 
 
 III. Of Virtue and Vice 204 
 
 IV. Of the various Evils of Life 213 
 
 V. Of Death 
 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Of the nilLOSOPHY gf ARjRIAN and 
 SENECA. 
 
 Introduction 240 
 
 Section I. Of God and Fro'oidaicc 211 
 
 II. Of the Soul of Man and /Vj 
 
 Powers 2-16 
 
 III. Of Moral precepts 252 
 
 Of the PlilEOSOPHY of EPICURUS. 
 
 Introduction 25G 
 
 Section I. Of God and the Structure of the 
 
 Unherse 258 
 
 II. Of the Human Soul 265 
 
 III. Of Human Life and Happiness 269 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 To JOSHUA TOULMLN, D. D. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 MY having- had for man}- years tlic hiippiness 
 of your acquaintance and friendship, and particular- 
 ly my ha\ing lately turned my thoughts to the sub- 
 ject of one of your valuable dissertations y have led 
 me to take the liberty to address to 3 ou tlie follow- 
 ing ^.?6V7)', cliicfly as a testimonial, and one of the 
 Inst that I shall be able to gi\e, of my esteem for 
 your general principles and character. 
 
 Having here much leisure, iuid ha\ing been led 
 to look bi'ck to some writings of the anticnts with 
 which I was formerly much better accjuainted than 
 I am now , and among others the Mcmorabilid of 
 Xniop/iofij and Plato'' s account of Socrates^ it oc- 
 curred to me to draw out on exhibition of his prin- 
 ciples 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 ciplesand conduct from die words of those two ori- 
 ginal writers ; and this suggested the idea of draw- 
 ing a comparison between him and Jesus. Knowing 
 that you had published an excellent dissertation on 
 the same subject, I forbore to look into it till mine 
 was transcribed for the press. By this means I 
 was not biassed, as I naturally should have been, 
 in favour oi^yju:- opinion ; and I ha^'c seldom more 
 than a \'ery indistinct recollection of any ^^•ork that 
 I have not very recently read. On this second pe- 
 rusal of your Dissertation I was as much pleased 
 with it as I remember I was at the first, tliough I 
 found that in some particulai's I diiTer from you. I 
 hope that neither of us, inattentive as most persons 
 now are to subjects of this kind, will have wholly 
 written in vain. 
 
 I take this opportunity of publicly thanking you 
 for your many excellent publications in defence 
 of rational Christianity. Having given so many 
 specimens of your ability and zeal in the cause, 
 it is to you, and your excellent coadjutors, Mr. 
 Beisham, Mr. Kentish, and a few others, that the 
 friends to the same cause ^vili naturally look, 
 whenever particular occasions, occurring on your 
 side of the water, will appear to call for a cham- 
 pion. My labours in this or any other field of 
 
 exertion 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 cx'jrtif;!! iv-c ncarl}' o\cr ; hut it gives mc much 
 S'.ilinfitction to reflect on what I have done in defence 
 Oi' wh.it appeared to me important christian truth. 
 As v.v liinc laboured, I hope M'e sliall hereafter re- 
 joice, tcgetlier. But v.e must hold out to the end, 
 v. ithout heing iveary of well doing, indult^ing no 
 remission of labour while we are capable of any. 
 Even a d\inrr hand has sometimes done execution. 
 AecordiuL;' to Uie apostle Paul, the whole life of 
 evcrv eluistiim is a %varfare. Our enemies are 
 "Cice and error, aiid ^\ilh them we must make 
 neiUier peace nor truce. Their advocates will not 
 make cither peace or truce with us. 
 
 I know I shall not offend you by acknowledg- 
 ing'', as I now do, that I had a pailiculai* view io you 
 ill my late tract in favour of infant baptism. 
 Whatever you may think of the performance itself, 
 you will not, I am confident, think uncandidly of 
 tlic intention \\\\\\ which it was written. While 
 we really think for ourselves, it is impossible, in 
 this state at least, but that we must often see 
 things in difilivnt lights, and consequently form 
 different opinions concerning them. But w ith the 
 ingenuous minds which become ehristiiuis this will 
 onlv be an occasion of exercisinir thiit candour 
 
 which 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 which is one of the most prominent christian vir- 
 tues, in which I am persuaded }ou will never be 
 defective. 
 
 With a very high degree of esteem, 
 lam, 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 yours sincerely. 
 
 J. PRIESTLEY. 
 Northumberland Jan. 1803. 
 
 Though the Dedication to Dr. Toulmin of tliat 
 article in the work which relates to Socrates has no 
 relation whatever to the subject of it, and is there- 
 fore not inserted at the head of that article in tliis 
 publication, my father wishing to preserve it as a 
 monument of their friendship, directed me to have 
 
 it printed at the end of the whole work. 
 
 J. P. 
 
.A