THE
ANALOGY OF RELIGION,
NATURAL AND REVEALED,
TO THE
CONSTITUTION AND COURSE OF NATURE.
BY JOSEPH BUTLER, LL.D.
LATE LORD BISHOP OF DURHAM
VWITH AN
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY
BY ALBERT BARNES.
Ejus (analogive) lec vis est, ud id quod dubium est, ad aliquid simile de quo non
queeritur, referat; ut incerta certis probet.... Quint. Inst. Orat. 1. 1. o. 6.
TWENTIETH EDITION.
NEW YORK:
PUBLISHED BY MARK H. NEWMAN & CO.,
No. 199 BROADWAY.
1851.




ENTERED), according to Act of Congress, inl lhe year 1847
BY IMIA-RK  I-. NEW1.7MAN & CO.,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Uiiited States fot
the Southeln  District of New York..1 *o,, -ar




TO THE
RIGHT HONOURABLE
CHARLES, LORD TALBOT.
BARON OF HENSOL,
LORD HIGH CHANCFLLOR OF GREAT BRITAIN,
THE FOLLOWING
TREATISE
IS, WITH ALL RESPECT, INSCRIBED
IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF THE HIGHEST OBLIGATIONS
TO THE LATE
LORD BISHOP OF DURHAM,
AND TO
H I M S EL F,
BY HIS LORDSHIPrS MOST DUTIFIUL
MOST DEVOTED,
AND MOST HUMBLE SERVANT,
JOSEPH BUTLER.








CONTENTS.
Page.
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY, by Albert Barnes.... 
PREFACE, by Bishop Halifax,.....               1
LIFE OF D. BUTLER, by Dr. Kippis,...                19
ADVERTISEMENT,..... 27
INTRODUCTION,.....,,, 29
PART I.
OF NATURAL RELIGION.
CHAP. i.
Of a Future Life,..                                        39
CHAP. II.
Of the Government of God by Rewards and Punishments; and
particularly of the latter,..   t..         54
CHAP. III.
Of the Moral Government of God,..... 64
CHAP. IV.
Of a State of Probation, as implying Trial, Difficulties, and
Danger,                                                  84
CHAP. V.
Of a State of Probation, as intended for Moral Discipline and
improvement,..9 l
CHAP. VI.
On the Opinion of Necessity, considered as influencing Practice,  110
CHAP. VII.
Of the Government of God, considered as a scheme, or Constitution, imperfectly comprehended,.   23
CONCLUSION,.133




COl~TENTBo
PART II.
OF REVEALED RELIGION.
CHAP. I.
Pare.
Of the importance of Christianity,...           1'39
CHAP. It.
Of the supposed Presumption against a Revelation considered as
iirac;lous,.............  154
CHAP. III.
Of our incapacity of judging what were to be expected in a Rervelation; and the Credibility, from Analogy, that it must contain
Things appearing liable to Objections,...... 160
CHAP. IV.
Of Christianity, considered as a Scheme, or Constitution, imperfectly
comprehended,..........173
CHAP. V.
Of-the particular System of Christianity; the appointment of a Mediator, and the Redemnption of the World by him,... 180
CHAP. VI.
Of the Want of Universality in Revelation; and of the supposed
Deficiency in the proof of it,....... 196
CHAP. VII.
Of the particular evidence for Christianity,.... 212
CHAP. VIII.
Of the objections which may be made against arguing from the Analogy of Nature to Religion,........ 241
CONCLUSOIN,........... 251




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
BY ALBERT BARNES.
[NOTE. The following Essay was originally prepared as a Review of
Butler's Analogy, for the Quarterly Christian Spectator, and appeared in
that work in the Numbers for December, 1830, and March, 1831. With
some slight alterations and additions, it is now reprinted as an Introductory
Essay to this Edition of the Analogy.]
Philadelphia, Sept. 6, 1832.
IN directing the attention of our readers to the great work
whose title we have placed at the head- of this article, we suppose
we are rendering an acceptable service chiefly to one class. The
ministers of religion, we presume, need not our humble recommiendation of a treatise so well known as Butler's Analogy. It
will not be improper, however, to suggest that even our clerical
readers may be less familiar than they should be, with a work
which saps all the foundations of unbelief; and may, perhaps,
have less faithfully carried out the principles of the Analogy, and
interwoven them less into their theological system, than might
reasonably have been expected. Butler already begins to put on
the venerable air of antiquity.  He belongs, in the character of
his writings at least, to the -men of another age. He is abstruse,
profound, dry, and, to minds indisposed to thought, is often wearisome and disgusting.  Even in clerical estimation, then, his
work may sometimes be numbered among those repulsive monuments of ancient wisdom, which men of this age pass by indiscriminately, as belonging to times of barbarous strength and
unpolished warfare.
But our design in bringing Butler more distinctly before the
public eye, has respect primarily to another class of our readers
In an age::pre-eminently distinguished for the short-lived productions of the imagination;, when reviewers feel themselves bound
to serve up to the public taste, rather the deserts and confectiona.
ries of the literary world, than the sound atnd wholesome fare of.
other times; when, in many places, it is even deemed stupid and
old-fashioned to notice an ancient book, or to speak of the wisdorn of our fathers; we desire to do what may lie in our power'
to stay tne headlong propensities of the times, and recal the public mind to the records of past wisdom. We have, indeed, no
Dlind predilection for the principles of other days. We bow down
nefore -no opinion because it is ancient. We even feel and
believe, that in all the momentous qu estions pertaining to morals,
politics, science, and religion, we are greatly in advance of past
ages. And our hearts expand with joy at the prospect of still
greater simplicity and clearness, in the statement and defence
of the cardinal doctrines of the reformation. Most of the moDu



MLI                MINTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
ments of past wisdom, we believe capable of improvement in
these respects. Thus we regard the works of Luther, Calvin
Beza, and Owen. We look on them as vast repositories o0
learning, piety and genius. In the great doctrines which these
works were intended-to support, we do firmly believe. Still,
though we love to linger in the society of such men; and though
our humble intellect bows before them, as in the presence of
transcendent genius, yet we feel that in same things their views
were darkened by the habits of thinking of a less cultivated age
than this; that their philosophy was often wrong, while the doctrilles which they attempted to defend by it were still correct;
and that even they would have hailed, on many topics, the
increased illumination of later times. Had modern ways of
thinking been applied to their works; had the results of a deeper
investigation into the laws of the mind, and the principles of
biblical criticism, been in their possession,-their works would
have been the most perfect records of human wisdom which the
world contains.
Some of those great monuments of the. power of hulmnat
thought, however, stand complete. By a mighty effort of genius,
their authors seized on truth; they fixed it in, pernmanent forms;
they chained down scattered reasonings, and left them to be surveyed by men of less mental stature and far feebler powers. It
is a proof of no mean talent now to be able to follow where they
lead, to grasp in thought, what they had the power to originate.
They framed a complete system at the first touch; and all that
remains for coming ages, corresponds to what Johnson has said
of poets in respect to Homer, to transpose their arguments, new
name their reasonings, and paraphrase theirsentiments.*  The
works of such men are a collection ofprinciples to be carried into
every region of morals and theology, as a standard of all other
views of truth. Such a distinction we are disposed to give to
Butler's Analogy; and it is because we deem it worthy of such a
distinction, that we now single it out from the great works of the
past, and commend it to the attention of our readers.
There are two great departments of investigation, respecting
the " analogy of religion to the constitution and course of nature,'
The one contemplates that analogy as existing between the
declarations of the Bible, and ascertained facts in the structure
of the globe, —tie organization of the animal system,-the memorials of ancient history,-the laws of light, heat, and gravita-.ion,-the dimensions of the earth,, and the form and motion of
the heavenly bodies. From all these sources, objections have
been derived against revelation. The most furious attacks have
been made, at one time by the geologist, and at another by the
astronomer; on one pretence by the antiquarian, and on another
by the chymist, against some part of the system of revealed truth.
Yet never have any assaults been less successful. Every effort
of this kind has resulted in the establishment of this great truth:
Johnson. Preface to Shakspeare.




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.                  ix.
that no man has yet commenced an investigation of the works
of nature, for the purpose of assailing revelation, who did not
Ultimately exhibit important facts in its confirmation, just in
proportion to his eminence and success in his own department
of inquiry. We are never alarmed, therefore, when we see an
infidel philosopher of real talents, commence an investigation
into the works of' nature. We hail his labours as destined ultimately to be auxiliary to the cause of truth. We have learned
that here Christianity has nothing to fear; and men of science,
we believe, are beginning to understand that here infidelity has
nothing to hope. As a specimen of the support which Christianity receives from the researches of science, we refer our
readers to. Ray's Wisdom of God, to Paley's Natural Theology,
and to Dick's Christian Philosopher.
The other department of investigation to which we referred, is
that whidh relates to the analogy of revealed-truth to the actual
facts exhibited in the moral government of th world. This is the
department which Butler has entered, and which he has so successfully explored. It is obvious that the first is a wider field in
regard to the number of facts which bear on the analogy: the
latter is more profound and less tangible in relation to the great
subjects of theological debate. The first meets more directly the
open and plausible objections of the blasphemer; the latter
represses the secret infidelity of the human heart, and silences
more effectually the ten thousand clamours which are accustomed
to be raised against the peculiar doctrines of the Bible. The first
is open to successive advances, and will be so. till the whole
physical structure of the world is fully investigated and known.
The latter, we may almost infer, seems destined to rest where it
now is, and to stand before the world as complete as it ever will
be, by one prodigious effort of a gigantic mind. Each successive
chymist, antiquarian, astronomer, and anatomist, will throw light
on some great department of human knowledge, to be moulded
to the purposes of religion, by some future Paley, or Dick, or
Good; and in every distinguished man of science, whatever nlay
be his religious feelings, we hail an ultimate auxiliary to the
cause of truth. Butler, however, seems to stand alone. No
adventurous mind has attempted to press his great principles of
thought, still further into the regions of moral inquiry. Though
the subject of moral goveriment is better understood now than
it wvas in his day; though lighkt has been thrown on the doctrines
of theology, and a perceptible advance been made in the knowledge of the laws of the mind, yet whoever now wishes to know
"the analogyof religion to the constitution and course of nature,"
anis nowhere else to go but to Butler, —or if he is able to apply
the prnz, iples of Butler, he has only to incorporate them with his
swn reasonings, tO furnish the solution of those facts and difficulties that "' perplex mortals."  We do not mean by this, that
Butler has exhausted the subject. We mean only that'no man
has attempted to carry it beyond the point where he left it; and
that his work, though not in our view as complete as modern




XI                 INTRODUCTOiY ESSAY.
habits of thought would permit it to be, yet stands like one of
those vast piles of architecture commenced in the middle ages,
proofs of consummate skill, of vast power, of amazing wealth, yet
in some respects incomplete or disproportioned, but which no one
since has dared to remodel, and which no. one, perhaps, has had
either the wealth, power, or genius, to make m,,e complete.
Of Butler, as a man, little is known. This is one of the many
cases where we are compelled to lament the want of a full and
faithful biography, With the leading facts of his life as a parish
priest and a prelate, \te are inde,ed made acquainted. But here
our knowledge of him ends. Of Butler as a man of piety, of the
secret, practical operations of his mind, we know little. Now it
is obvious, that we could be in possession of no legacy more
valuable in regard to such a man, than the knowledge of the
secret feelings of his heart; of the application of his own modes
of thinking to his own soul, to subdue the ever-varying forms of
human weakness and guilt; and of his- practical way of obviating, for his personal comfort, the suggestions of unbelief in his
own bosom. This fact we know, that he was engaged upon his
Analogy during a period of twenty years. Yet we know nothing
of the effect on his own soul, of the mode in which he blunted
and warded off the poisoned shafts of infidelity. Could we see
the internal organization of his mind, as we can now see that of
Johnson, could we trace the connexion between his habits of
thought and his pious emotions, it would be a treasure to the
world equalled perhaps only by his Analogy, and one which we
may in vain hope now to possess. The true purposes of biography have been hitherto but little understood. The mere external
events pertaining to great men are often of little value. They
are without the mind, and produce feelings unconnected with any
important purposes of human improvement. Who reads now
with any emotion except regret that this is all he can read of
such a man as Butler, that he was born in 1692, graduated at
Oxford in 1721, preached at the Rolls till 1726, was made bishop
of Durham in 1750, and died in 1752? We learn, indeed, that
he- was high in favour at the university, and subsequently at
court; that he. was retiring, modest and unassuming' in his
-deportment; and that his elevation to the Deanery of St. Paul's,
and to the princely See of Durham, was not the effect of ambition, but the voluntary tribute of those in power to transcendent
talent and,exalted, though retiring, worth. An instance of his
modest and unambitious habits, given in the record of his life,
is worthy of preservation, and is highly illustrative of his character. For seven years he was occupied in the humble and laborious duties of a parish priest, at Stanhope. His friends regretted his retirement, and sought preferment for him. Mr. Secker,
an intimate friend of Butler, being made chaplain to the king, in
1732, qne day in conversation with Queen Caroline took occasion
to mention his friend's name. The queen said she thought he
was dead, and asked Archbishop Blackburn if that was not the
case.' His reply was, "No, madam, but he is buried."  He was




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.                xi
thus raised again to notice, and ultimately to high hono.urs, in
the hierarchy of the English church.
Butler was naturally of a contemplative and somewhat nlelancholy turn of mind. He sought retire'ment, therefore, and yet
needed society. It is probable that natural inclination, as well
as the prevalent habits of unbelief in England, suggested the
plan of his Analogy. Yet though retiring and unambitious, he
was lauded in the days of his advancement, as sustaining thq
episcopal office with great dignity and splendour; as conducting
the ceremonies of religion with a pomp approaching the grandeur of the Roman Catholic form of worship; and as treating the
neighbouring clergy and nobility with the " pride, pomp, and circumstance," becoming, in their view, a minister of Jesus, transformed into a nobleman of secular rank, and reckoned among
the great officers of state. These are, in our view, spots in the
life of Butler; and all attempts to conceal them, have only rendered
them more glaring. No authority of antiquity, no plea of the,
grandeur of imposing rites, can justify the pomp and circumstance appropriate to an English prelatical bishop, or invest with
sacred authority the canons of a church, that appoints the hum
ble ministers of him who had not where to lay his head, to the
splendours of a palace or the pretended honours of an archiepiscopal throne-to a necessary alliance, under every danger to personal and ministerial character, with profligate noblemen, or
intriguing and imperious ministers. But Butler drew his, title to
memory in subsequent ages, neither from the tinsel of rank, the
staff and lawn of office, nor the attendant pomp and grandeur arising from the possession of one of the richest benefices in England. Butler the prelate will be forgotten. Butler the author of
the Analogy will live to the last recorded time.
In the few remains of the life of Butler, we lament, still more
than any thing we have mentioned, that we learn nothing of his
habits of study, his mode of investigation, and especially the proctess by which he composed hs sAnalogy. We are told indeed
that it combines the results of his thoughts for twenty years, and
his observations and reading during that long period of his life.
He is said to have written and re-written different parts of it, to
have studied each word, and phrase, until it expressed precisely
his meaning and no more. It bears plenary evidence, that it
must have been written by such a condensing and epitomizing
process. Any man may be satisfied of this, who attempts to
express the thoughts in other language than that employed in
tne Analogy. Instinctively the sentences and paragraphs will
swell out to a much greater size, and defy all the powers we
possess to reduce them to their primitive dimensions, unle:;s
they be driven wi;hin the precise'enclosures prescribed by the
mind of Butler.  We regret in vain that this is all our knowledge of the mechanical and mental process by which this book
was composed. We are not permitted to see him at his toil, to
mark the workings of his mind, and to learn the art of looking
intensely at a thought, until we see it standing alone, aloof fromn




Xi                 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
all attendants, and prepared for a permanent location where the
author intended to fix its abode, to be comtemplated as he view.
ed it, in all coming ages. We can hardly repress our indigna.
tion, that those who undertake to write the biography of such
gifted men, should not tell us less of their bodies, their trappings,
their honours and their offices, and more of the workings of the
spirit, the process of subjecting and restraining the native wanderings of the mind. Nor can we suppress the sigh of regret
thai he has not himself revealed to us, what no other mapr could
have done; and admitted subsequent admirers to the intimacy ol
friendship, and to a contemplation of the process by which the
Analogy was conceived and executed. Over the past however ii
is in vain to sigh. Every man feels that hitherto we have had
but little Biography. Sketches of the external circumstances of
rmany men we have —genealogical tables without number, and
without end-chronicled wonders, that such a man was born and
died, ran through such a circle of honours, and obtained such a
mausoleum to his memory. But histories of mind we have not;
and for all the great purposes of knowledge, we should know as
much of the man,-if we had not looked upon the misnamed
biography.
We now  take leave of Butler as a man, and direct our
thoughts more particularly to his great work. Those were dark
and portentous times which succeeded the reign of the second
Charles. That voluptuous and witty monarch, had contributed
more than any mortal before or since his time, to fill a nation
with infidels, and debauchees. Corruption had seized upon the
-highest orders of the state; and it flowed down on all ranks ol
the community. Every grade in life had caught the infection
of the court. Profligacy is alternately the parent and the child
of unbelief. The unthinking multitude of courtiers and flatterers,
that fluttered around the court of Charles had learned to scoff at
Christianity, and to consider it as not worth the trouble of anxious thought. The influence of the court extended over the nation. It soon infected the schools and professions: and perhaps
there has not been a time in British history, when infidelity had
become so general, and had assumed a form so malignant. It
had attached itself to dissoluteness, deep, dreadful, and universal.
It was going hand in hand with all the pleasures of a profligate
court, it was identified with all that actuated the souls of Charles
and his ministers; it was the kind of infidelity whLch fitted an
unthinking age-scorning alike reason, philosophy, patient
thought, and purity of morals. So that in the language of Butler, " it had come to be taken for granted by many persons, that
Christianity is not so much as a subjec: of investioation, but that
it is now at length, discovered to be fictitious, and accordingly
they treat it, as if in the present age, this were an agreed point
among all people of discernment, and nothing remained but to
set it up as a principal subject of mirth and ridicule, as it were
Dy way of reprisals for its having so long interrupted the plea~sures of the world."  In times of' such universal profligacy and




T11TROUtCTO'R  ESSAT.                XMIL
infidelity arose in succession, Locke, Newton, and Butlers the
wo former of whom we need not say have been unsurpassed in
great powers of thought, and in the. influence which they exerted on the sentiments of mankind. It needed such men to
bring back a volatile generatibn to habib; o6~' prolfound thought. in
the sciences. It needed such a man as Butler, in our view not., ferior in profound thought to either, and whose works will
nave a more permanent effect on the destinies of men, than both
-to arrest the giddy steps of a nation, to bring religion from the
palace of a scoffing prince and court to the bar of sober thought,
and to show that Christianity was not undeserving of sober
inquiry.  This was the design of the Analogy. It was not so
ruch to furnish a complete demonstration of the truth of reli'
gion, as to show that it could not be proved to be false. It was
to show that it accorded with a great, every where seen, system
of things actually going on in the world; and that attacks made
on Christianity were to the same extent assaults on the course of
nature, and of nature's God. Butler pointed the unbeliever to a
grand systetn of things in actual existence, a world with every
variety of character, feeling, conduct and results-a system  of
things deeply mysterious, yet developing great principles, and
bearing proof that it was under the goverinment of God. He
traced certain indubitable acts: of the Almighty in a course of
nature, whose existence could not be denied. Now if it could bte
shown that Christianity contained like results, acts, and principles; if it was a scheme involving no greater mystery, and
demanding a correspondent conduct on the part of man, it would
be seen that it had proceeded from the same author. In other
words the objections alleged against Christianity, being equally
applicable against the course of nature, could not be va]id. To
show this, was the design of Butler. In doing this, he carried
the war into the camp of the enemy.- He silenced the objec or's
arguments; or if he still continued to urge them, showed him
that with equal propriety they could be urged against the acknowledged course of things, against his own. principles of conduct
on other subjects, against what indubitably affteted his condition
here, and what might therefore affect his doonm hereafter.
\We are fond of thus looking at the Bible as part of one vast
plan of communicating truth to created intelligences. We know
it is the fullest, and most grand, of all God's ways of teaching
men, standing amidst the sources of information, as the sun does
amidst the stars of heaven, quenching their feeble glimmerings
in the fulness of its meridian splendour. But to carry forward
the illustration, the sun does, indeed, cause the stars of night to
hide their diminished heads," hut we see in both but one system of laws; and whether in the trembling of the minutest orb
that emits its faint rays to us from the farthest bounds of space,
or the full light of the sun at noon-day, we trace the hand of the
sanme God, and feel that " all are but parts of one stupendous
whole."  Thus it is with revelation. We know that its truths
comprise all that the world elsewhere contains, that its authority
2




X1tV              NITRODUCTOtOY ESSAY.
is supreme over all the other sources of knowledge, and all
the other facts of the moral system.  But there are other
sources of information —a vast multitude of facts that we
expect to find in accordance witb this brighter effulgence
from heaven, and it is these facts which the Analogy brings to
the aid of revelation. The Bible is in religion, what the telescope is in astronomy. It does not contradict any thing before
known; it does not annihilate any thing before seen; it carries
the eye forward into new worlds, opens it upon more splendid
fields of vision, and displays grander systems, where we thought
there was but the emptiness of space, or the darkness of illimitable and profound night; and divides the mnilky way into vast
clusters of suns and stars, of worlds and systems. In all the
boundlessness'of these fields of vision, however, does the telescope point us to any new laws of acting, any new principle by
which the universe is governed? The astronomer tells us not.
It is the hand of the same God which he- sees, impelling the new
worlds that burst on the view in the immensity of space, with
the same irresistible and inconceivable energy, and encompassing them with the same clear fields of light. So we expect to
find it in revelation. We expect to see plans, laws, purposes,
actions and results, uniform with the facts in actual existence
before our eyes. Whether in the smiles of an infant, or the
wrapt feelings of a seraph; in the strength of manhood, or the
power of Gabriel; in the rewards of virtue here, or the crown of
glory hereafter, we expect to find the Creator acting on one grand
principle of moral government, applicable to all these facts, and
to be vindicated by the same considerations.
When we approach the Bible, we are at once struck with a
most striking correspondence of plan to that which obtains in'ne
natural world. When we teach theology in our schools we do it
by system, by form, by technicalities. We frame what we call
a " body of divinity," expecting all its parts to cohere and agree.
We shape and clip the angles and points of our tLeology, till they
shall fit, like the polished stoncs of the temple of Solomon, into
their place. So when we teach astronomy, botany, or geography, it is by a regular system before us, havin(r the last discover
ries of the science locateid in their proper place. But how different is the plan, which, in each of these departments, is pursued
by infinite wisdom. The truths which God designs to teach us,
lie spread over a vast compass. They are placed without much
apparent order. Those of revelation lie before us, just as the
various facts do, which go to make up a system of botany or
astronomy. The great Author of nature has not placed all flowers in a single situation, nor given them a scientific arrangement. They are scattered over the wide world. Part bloom on
the mountain, part in the valley; part shed their fragrance near
the running stream; part pour their sweetness in the desert air'in the solitary waste where no man is;" part. climb in vines to
giddy heights, and part are found in the bosom of the mighty
waters. He that forms a thieor.y of botany must do it, therefore




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.                 XV
with hardy toil. He will find the materials, not the system, made
ready to his hands. He will exhaust his life perhaps in'his
labour, before the system stands complete. Why should we not
expect to find the counterpart of all this in religion? WVhen we
look at the Bible, we find the same state of things. At first but
a ray of light beamed upon the dark path of our apostate parents,
wandering from paradise. The sun that had stood over their
heads in the garden of pleasure, at their fall sunk to the west
and left them in the horrors of a moral midnight. A single ray,
in the promise of a Saviour, shot along their path, and directed
to the source of day. But did God reveal a whole system? Did
he tell them all the truth that he knew? Did he tell all that we
know?. He did just as we have supposed in regard to the first
botanist. The eye was fixed on one truth distinctly. Subsequent revelations shed new light; advancing facts confirmed
preceding doctrines and promises; rising prophets gave confii m.
ation to the hopes of men; precepts, laws, and direct revelations
rose upon the world, until the system of revealed truth is now
complete. Man has all he can have, except the facts which the
progress of things is yet to develope in confirmation of the system;
just as each new budding flower goes to confirm the just principles of the naturalist, and to show what the system is. Yet how
do we possess the system?  As arranged, digested, andl reduced
to order?  Far from it. We have the book of revelation just
as we have the book of nature. In the beginning of the -Bible,
for example, we have a truth abstractly taught, in another part
illustrated in the life of a prophet; as we advance, it is confirmed
by the fuller revelation of the Saviour or the apostles, and we
find its full development only when the whole book is complete.
Here stands a law; there a promise; there a profound mysrery,
unarranged, undigested, yet strikingly accordant with a multitude
of correspondent views in. the Bible, and with as many in the
moral world. Now here is a mode of communication, which
imposture would have carefully avoided, because detection, it
would foresee, must, on such a plan, be unavoidable. It seems
to us that if mnen had intended to impose a system on the world,
it would have been somewhat in the shape of our bodies ol divinity, and therefore very greatly unlike the plan which we actuallv find in the Bible. At any rate, we approach the Scriptures
wvith this strong presumption in favourtof its truth, that it accords
precisely with what we see in astronomy, chymistry, botany,
and geography, and that the mode of constructing systems
in all these sciences, is exactly the same as in dogmatical
theo!ogy.
We have another remanrk to make on this subject. The botanist does not sbape his facts. He is the collector, the arranger.
not the originator.  So the framer of sVstems in religion s]houtld
be —and it is matter of deep regret that such he has not been. He
should be merely the collector, the arranger, not the originator
9f the doctrines of the gospel. Though then we think him of
some importance, yet we do not ret a high valie on his labours.




tVi                INTRODUCTORY ESSAt.
WVe honour the toils of a man who tells of the uses, beauties and
medicinal properties of the plant, far more than of him  who
merely declares its rank, its order, its class in the Linnian system.  So in theology, we admire the greatness of mind which
can bring out an original truth, illustrate it, and show its proper
bearing on the spiritual interests of' our race, far more than we
do the plodding chiseller who shapes it to its place in his,,yterm.
It makes no small demand 6o on iir patience, wthen we see the system-maker remove angle after angle, and apply stroke after
stroke, to some great mass of truth which a mighty genius has
struck out, but which keen-eyed and jealous orthodoxy  will not
admit to its proper bearing on the souls of men, until it is located
in a creed, and cramped into some frame-work of faith, that has
been reared around the Bible. Our sympathy  with such men as
Butler, and Chalmers, and Foster, and Hall, is far greater than
with Turretine or Ridgely. With still less patience do.we listen
to those whose only business it is to shape and reduce to prescribed form; who never lookl at a passage in the Bible or a fact
in nature, without first robbing it of its freshness, by an attempt
to give it a sectarian location:-who never stumble on an original and unclassified idea, without asking whether the systemmaker had left any niche for the late-born intruder; and who
applies to it all tests, as to a non-descript substance in chymistry,
in order to fasten on it the charge of an affinity with some
rejected confession, or some creed of a suspected name. This is
to abuse reason and revelation, for the sake of putting honour on
creeds. It is to suppose that the older creed-makers had before
them all shades of thought, all material and mental facts, all
knowledge of what mind has been and can be, and all other knowledge of the adaptedness of the Bible, tb every enlarged and fluctuating process of thbouht. It is to doom the theologian to an
eternal dwelling in Greenland frost and snows, instead of sending
him forth to breathe the mild air of freedom, and to make him a
large-minded and fearless interpreter of the oracles of God.
It is not our intention to follow the profound author of the
Analogy through his laboured denmonstrations, or to attempt to
offer an abridged statement of his reasibiih,. Butler, as we have
already remarked, is incapable ef abridgement. His thoughts
are aliready condensed into as narrow a compass, as the nature
of language will admit. All that we purpose to do, is to give a
specimen of the argument friom analogy in support of the Chris.
tian religion, without very closely following the book before us.
The main points at issue between Christianity and its opposers
are, whether there is a future state; whether our conduct here
will affect our condition there; whether God so controls tlhings
as to reward and punish; whether it is reasonable to act with
reference to our condition hereafter; whether the favour of God
is to be obtained with, or without the mediation of another,
whether. crime and suffering are indissolubly united irn the moral
government of God; and whether Christianity is a scheme in
accordance with the acknowledged laws of the universe, and is




INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.                XV1
supported by evidence so clear as to make it proper to act on the
belief of its truth.
Infidelity, in its proper form, approaches man with the declaration that there cannot be a future state. It affirms, often with
much apparent concern, that there can be no satisfactory evidence of what pertains to a dark, invisible, and distant world;
that the mind is incompetent to set up landmarks along its future
course, and that we can have no certain proof that in that dark
abyss, we shall live, act, or thinlk at all. It affirms that the
whole analogy of things is against such a supposition. We have
no evidence, it declares, that one of all the nirliions who have
died, has lived beyond the grave. In sickness, and old age, it is
said the body and soul seem alike to grow feeble and decay, and
both seem to expire together. That they ever exist separate, it
is said, has not been proved. That such a dissolution and separate existence should take place, is affirmed to be contrary to the
analogy of all other things. That the soul and body should be
united again, and constitute a single being, is said to be without
a parallel fact in other things, to divest it of its inherent improbability.
Now let us suppose for a moment that, endued with our present powers of thought, we had been united to bodies of far feebler frame and much more slender dimensions, than we now
inhabit.  Suppose that our spirits had been doomed to inhabit
the body of a crawling reptile, scarce an in-ch in length, prone on
the earth, and doomed to draw out our little length to obtain loco~
motion from day to day, and scarce noticeable by the mighty
beings above us.  Suppose in that lowly condition, as we contemplated the certainty of our speedy dissolution,.we should look
upon our kindred reptiles, the partners of our cares, and should
see their strength gradually waste, their faculties grow dim, their
bodies become chill in death. Suppose now it should be revealed
to us, that those bodies should undergo a transformation; that at
no great distance of time they should start up into new being;
that in their narrow graves there should be seen the evidence of
returning life; and that these same deformed, prone, and decaying frames, should be clothed with the beauty of gaudy colours,
be instinct with life, leave the earth, soar at pleasure in a new
element, take their rank in a new order of beings, be divested of
all that was offensive and loathsome in their old abode in the
eyes of other beings; and be completely dissociated from all the
plans, habits, relations and feelings of their former lowly condition. ~We ask whether against this supposition there would not
lie all the objections, which have ever been alleged against the
doctrine of a resurrection, and a future state? Yet the world has
long been familiar with changes of this character.  The changes
which animal natur'e undergoes to produce the gay colours of the
butterfly, have as much antecedent improbability as those pertaining to the predicted resurrection, and for aught that we can
see, are improbabilities of precisely the same natnure. So in a
case-still more in point. No two states which revelation has
2*




Xvii1               NTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
presented, as actually contemplated in the condition of man, are
more unlike than those of an unborn infant, and of a hoary man
ripe with wisdom and honours. To us it appears that the-state
of the embryo, and that of Newton, Locke,'and Bacon, have at
least, as much dissimilarity, as those between man here, and
man in a future state. Grant that a revelation could be made to
such an embryo, and it would be attended with all the difficulties
that are supposed to attend the doctrine of revelation. That this
unformed being should leave the element in which it commences
its existence; that it should be ushered into another element
with powers precisely adjusted to its new state, and useless in its
first abode-like the eye, the ear, the hand, the foot; that It
should assume relations to hundreds, and thousands of other
beings at first unknown, and these, too, living in what to the
embryo must be esteemed a different world; that it should be
capable of traversing seas, of measuring the distances of stars,
of guaging the dimensions of suns; that it could calculate with
unerring certainty the conjunctions and oppositions, the transits
and altitudes of the vast wheeling orbs of immensity, is as
improbable as any change, which man, under the guidance of
revelation, has yet expected in his most sanguine moments.
Yet nothing is more familiar to us. So the analogy might be
run through all the changes which animals and vegetables exhibit. Nor has the infidel a right to reject the revelations of
Christianity respecting a future state, until he has disposed
of facts of precisely the same nature with which our world
abounds.
But are we under a moral government?  Admitting the probability of a future state, is the plan on which the world is
actually administered, one which will be likely to affect our
condition there?  Is there any reason to believe, from  the
analogy of things, that the affairs of the universe will ever in
some future condition, settle down into permanency and order?
That this is the doctrine of Christianity, none can deny. It is a
matter of clear revelation-indeed it is the entire basis and
structure of the scheme, that the affairs, of justice and of law,
are under suspense; that "judgment now lingereth and damnation slumbereth;" that, crime is for the present dissociated from
wo, for a specific purpose, viz. that mortals may repent and be
forgiven; and that there will come a day when the native indissoluble connexion between sin and suffering shall be restored,
and that they shall then travel on hand in hand for ever. This
is the essence of Christianity. And it is a most interesting
inquiry, whether any thing like this can be found in the actual
government of the world.
Now it cannot be denied, that on this subject, men are thrown
into a most remarkable-a chaotic mass of facts. The world is
so full of irregularity-the lives of wicked men are apparently
so often peaceful and triumphant-virtue so often pines neg'
lected in the vale of obscurity, or weeps abd groans under the
Iron hand of the oppressor, that it appals men in all their




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.                 XiX
attempts to reduce the system to order. Rewards and punishments, are so often apparently capricious, that there is presumptive proof, in the mind of the infidel, that it will always continue
so to be. And yet what if, amidst all this apparent disorder
there should be found the elements of a grand and glorious system, soon to rise on its ruins. What if, amidst all the triumphs
of vice, there should still be found evidence to prove that God
works by an unseen power, but most effectually, in sending
iudicial inflictions on men even now?  And what if, amidst
these ruins, there is still to be found evidence, that God regards
virtue even here, and is preparing for it appropriate rewards
hereafter; like the parts of a beautiful temple strewed and scattered in the ruins of some ancient city, but still if again placed
together, symmetrical, harmonious, and grand?
Christianity proceeds on the supposition that such is the fact;
and amidst all the wreck of human things, we can still discover
certain fixed results of human conduct. The consequences of an
action do not terminate with the commission of the act itself,
nor with the immediate effect of that act on the body. They
trael over into future results, and strike on some other, often
some distant part of our earthly existence. Frequently the true
effect of the act is not seen except beyond some result that may
be considered as the accidental one; though for the sake of that
immediate effect the act may have been performed.  This -is
strikingly the case in the worst forms of vice. The immediate
effect, for example, of intemperance, is a certain pleasurable
sensation for the sake of which the man became intoxicated.
The true effect, or the effect as part of moral government, travels
beyond that temporary delirium, and is seen in the loss of health,
character, and peace,-perhaps not terminating in its consequences during the whole future progress of the victim.  So the
direct result of profligacy may be the gratification of passion;of avarice, the pleasurable indulgence of a groveling propensity;-of ambition, the glow of feeling in splendid achievements, or the grandeur and pomp of the monarch, or the warrior;-of dueling, a pleasurable sensation that revenge has been
taken forinsult. But do the consequences of:aese deeds terminate here? If they did, we should doubt the moral government of God. But in regard to their ultimate effects, the universe furnishes but one lesson. The consequences of these
deeds travel over in advance of this pleasure, and fix themselves
deep beyond human power to eradicate them, in the property
health -reputation or peace of the man of guilt;-'nay, perhaps
the consequences thicken until we take our last view of him, as
he gasps in death, and all that we know of him, as he goes
from our observation, is that heavier thunderbolts are seen tremnblinge in the hand of God, and pointing their vengeance at the
head of the dying man. What infidel can prove that some of
the results, at least, of that crime, may not travel on to meet
him in his future being, and beset his goings there?
Further, as a general law the virtuous are prospered, and the




XX                INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
wicked punished. Society is organized for this. Laws are
made for this.'The entire conimunity throws its arms around
the man of virtue; and in like manner, the entire community,
by its laws, gather around the transgressor. Let a man attempt
to commit a crime, and before the act is committed, he may
meet with fifty evidences, that he is doing that which will involve him in ruin. He must struggle with his conscience. He
must contend with what he knows to have been the uniform
judgment of men. He must keep himself from the eye of jusice, and that very attempt is proof to him that there is a moral
government He must overcome all the proofs which have been
set up, that men approve of virtue. He must shun the presence
of every man, for from that moment, every member of the community, becomes, of course, his enemy. He must assume disguises to secure him from the eye of justice. He must work his
way through the community during the rest of his life, with the
continued consciousness of crime;  eluding by arts the officers of
the law, fearful of detection at every step, and never certain that
at some unexpected moment, his crime may not be revealed, and
the heavy arm of justice fall on his guilty head. Now all this
proves that in his view he is under a moral government. How
knows he, that the same system of things may not meet him
hereafter; and that in some future world the hand of justice may
not reach him? The fact is sufficiently universal to be a proper
ground of action, that virtue meets with its appropriate reward
and vice is appropriately punished. So universal is this fact,
-that more than nine tenths of all the world, have confidently
acted on its belief. The young man expects that industry and
sobriety will be recompensed in the healthfulness, peace, and
honour of a venerable old age. The votary of ambition expects to
climb the steep, "where fame's proud temple shines afar,"' and
to enjoy the rewards of office or fame. And so uniform is the
administration of the world in this respect, that the success ot
one generation, lays the ground for the confident anticipations of'
another. So it has been from the beginning of time, and so it
will be to the end of the world. We ask why should not man,
with equal reason, suppose his conduct now may affect his destiny, at the next moment or the next year beyond his death?
Is there any violation of reason in supposing that the soul may
be active there, and meet there the results of conduct here? Can
it be proved that death suspends, or annihilates existence? Unless it can, the man who acts in his youmi with reference to his
happiness at eighty years of.age, is acting most unwisely if he
does not extend his thoughts to the hundredth, or the thbusandth
year of his being.
What if it should be found, as the infidel cannot deny it may be,
that death suspends not existence, so much as one night's sleep?
At the close of each day, we see the powers of man prostrate.
Weakness and lassitude come over all the frame. A torpor
elsewhere unknown in the history of animal nature, spreads
through all the faculties. The eyesi close, the ears become deaf




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.                 XXi
to hearing, the palate to taste, the skin to touch, the nostrils to
smell, all the faculties are locked in entire insensibility, alike
strangers to the charms of music, the tones of friendship, the
beauties of creation, the luxury of the banquet, and the voice of
revelry. The last indication of mind to appearance is gone, or
the indications of its existence are far feebler than when we see
man die in the full exertion of his mental powers, sympathizing
in feelings of friendship, and cheered by the hopes of religion.
Yet God passes his hand over the frame when we sleep, and
instinct with life, again we rise to business, to pleasure, or to
ambition. But what are the facts which meet us, as the result
of the doings of yesterday? Have we lost our hold on those
actions? The man of industry yesterday, sees to-day, his fields
waving in the sun, rich with a luxuriant harvest. T'he professional man of business finds his doors crowded, his ways
thronged, and multitudes awaiting his aid in law, in medicine,
or in the arts. The man of virtue yesterday, reaps the rewards
of it to-day, in the respect and confidence of mankind; and in
the peace of an approving conscience, and the smiles of God.
The man of intemperate living rises to nausea, retching, pain,
and wo. Poverty, this morning clothes in rags the body of
him who was idle yesterday; and disease clings to the goings,
and fixes itself in the blood of him, who was dissipated.- Who
can tell but death shall be less a suspension of existence than
this night's sleep? Who can tell but that the consequences of
our doings here, shall travel over our sleep in the tomb, and
greet us in our awaking in some new abode? Why should
they not?  Why should God appoint a law so wise, and so universal here, that is to fail the moment we pass to some other part
of our being?
Nor are the results of crime confined to the place where the act
was committed.  Sin, in youth, may lay the foundation of a
disease, that shall complete its work on the other side of the
globe. An'early career of dissipation in America, may fix in the
frame the elements of a disorder, that shall complete its work in
the splendid capital of the French, or it may be in the sands of
the Equator, or the snows of Siberia. If crime may thus travel
in its results around the olobe, if it may reach out its withering
hand over seas, and mountains, and continents, and seek out its
fleeing victim in the solitary waste, or in the dark night, we see
not why it may not be stretched across the grave, and meet the
victim there-at least we think the analogy should make the
transgressor tremble, and turn pale as he flies to eternity.
But it is still objected that the rewards given to virtue, and the
pain inflicted on vice, are not universal, and that there is not,
therefore, the proof that was to have been expected, that they
will be hereafter. *Here we remark that it is evidently not the
design of religion to affirm that the entire system can be seen in
our world. We say that the system is not fully developed, and
that there is, therefore, presumptive proof that there is another
state of things. Every one must have been struck with the fact,




ftii              INTRODUCTORY' SSAY.
that human affairs are cut off in the midst of their way, and their
completion removed to some other world. No earthly systemi
or plan has been carried -out to its full extent. There is no proof
that we have ever seen the full result of any given system of
conduct. We see the effect of vice as far as the structure of the
body will allow. We see it prostrate the frame, produce disease,
and terminate in death. We see the effect on body and mind
alike, until we lose our sight of the man in the grave. There
our observation stops. - But who can tell what the effect of
-intemperance, for example, would be in this world, if the body
were adjusted to bear its results a little longer? Who can cal:ulate with what accelerated progress the consequences would
thicken beyond the time when we now cease to observe them?
And who can affirm that the same results may not await the
mind hereafter? Again we ask the infidel why they should not?
He is bound to tell us. The presumption is against him.'Besides, the effect of vice is often arrested in its first stage. A
young man suddenly dies. For some purpose, unseen to human
eyes, the individual is arrested, and the effect of his crimes is
removed into eternity. Why is this more improbable than that
the irregularities of youth should run on, and find their earthly
completion in the wretchedness and poverty of a dishonoured old
age. So virtue is often arrested. The young man of promise,
of talent, and of piety, dies. The completion of the scheme is
arrested. The rewards are dispensed in another world. So says
religion. And can the infidel tell us why they should not be dispensed there, as well as in the ripe honours of virtuous man
hood? This is a question which infidelity must answer.
The same remarks are as applicable to communities as to individuals. It is to be remembered here, that virtue has never had
a full and impartial trial. The proper effect of virtue here, v'ould
be seen in a perfectly pure community. Let us suppose such an
organization of society. Imagine a community of virtuous men
where the most worthy citizens should always be elected to
office, where affairs should be suffered to flow on far enough to
give the system a complete trial; where vice, corruption, flattery,
bribes, and the arts of office-seeking, should be unknown; where
intemperance, gluttony, lust, and dishonest gains, should be shut
out by the laws, and by the moral sense of the commonwealth;
where industrv and sobriety should universally prevail, and be
honored. Is there any difficulty in seeing that if this system
were to prevail for many ages, the nation would be signally prosperous, and gain a wide dominion? And suppose, on the other
hand, a community made up on the model of the New-Harmony
plan, the asylum of the idle, of the unprincipled, and the profli.
gate. Suppose that the men of the greatest physical power, and
most vice, should rule, as they infallibly would do. Suppose
there was no law, but the single precept enjoining universal
indulgence; and suppose that, under some miraculous and terrible binding together by divine pressure, this community should
be kept from falling to pieces, or destroying itself, for a few ages




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.               xxih
is there any difficulty in seeing what would be the proper effect
of crime? Indeed, we deem it happy for the world that one
Robert Owen has been permitted to live to make the experiment
on a small scale, and but one, lest the record of total profligacy
and corruption should not be confined to the singularly named
New-Harmony. All this proves there is something either in the
frame-work of society itself, or in the agency of some Great
Being presiding over human things, that smiles on virtue, and
frowns on vice. In other words, there is a moral government.
It is further to be remarked that, as far as the experiment has
been suffered to go on in the world, it has been attended with a
uniform result. Nations are suffered to advance in wickedness,
until they reach the point, in the universal constitution of things,
that is-attended with self-destruction. So fell Gomorrah, Babylon, Athens, Rome, expiring just as the drunkard does-by excess
of crime, or by enervating their strength in luxury and vice.
The body politic, enfeebled by corruption, is not -able to sustain
the.incumbent load, and sinks, like the human frame, in ruin.
So has perished every nation, from the vast dominions of Alexander the Macedonian, to the mighty emnpire of Napoleon, that
has been reared in lands wet with the blood of the slain, and
incumbent on the pressed and manacled liberties of man. In
national, as well as in private affairs, the powers of doing evil
soon exhaust themselves. The frame in which they act is not
equal to the mighty pressure, and the nation or the individual
sinks to ruin. Like some tremendous engine, of many wheels
and complicated machinery, when the balance is removed, and
it. is suffered to waste its powers in self-propulsion, without
checks or guides, the tremendous energy works its own ruin,
rends the machine in pieces, and scatters its rolling and flying
wheels in a thousand directions. Such is the frame of society,
and such the frame of an individual. So we expect, if God gave
up the world to unrestrained evil it would accomplish its own
perdition. We think we see in every human frame, and in the
mingled and clashing powers of every society, the elements of
ruin, and all that is necessary to secure that ruin is to remove
the pressure of the hand that now restrains the wild and terrific
powers, ana saves the world from self-destruction. So if virtue
had a fair trial, we apprehend it would be as complete in its
results. We expect, in heaven, it will secure its own rewards —
like the machine which we have supposed —always harmonious
in its movements. So in hell, we expect there'will be the elements of universal misrule-and that all the foreign force that
will be necessary to secure eternal misery, will be Almighty
power to preserve the terrible powers in unrestrained being, and
to press them into the same mighty prison-house-just like some
adamantine enclosure that should keep the engine together and
fit the locality of its tremendous operations.
Long ago it had passed into a proverb, that " murder will out.'
This is just an illustration of what we are supposing. Let a
murderer live long enough, and such is the 9rganization of




MXlV                INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
society, that vengeance will find him  out. Such, we suppose,
would be the case in regard to all crime, if sufficient permanency
were given to the affairs of men, and if things were not arrested
in the midst of their way. Results in eternity, we suppose, are
but the transfer to another state of results which would take place
here, if the guilty were not removed. We ask the infidel, —we
ask the Universalist, why this state of things should be arrested
by so unimportant a circumstance as death  Here is a uniform
system of things —uniform as far as the eye can run it backward
into past generations, —uniform, so as to become the foundation
of laws and of th:e entire conduct of the world, —and uniform, so
far as the eye can trace the results of conductforward in all tilhe
landmarkl set up along our future course. Unless God change,
and the affairs of other worlds are administered on principles
different from  ours, it must be that the system will receive its
appropriate termination there.  It be-longs to the infidel and the
Universalist to prove, that the affairs of the universe come to a
solemn pause at-death; that we are ushered into a world of different laws, and different principles of government, —that we
pass under a new sceptre, a sceptre too, not of justice, but of disorder, misrule, and the arrest of all that God has begun in his
administration; —that the results of conduct, manifestly but just
commenced here, tre finally arrested by some strange and
unknown principle at our death; —and that we are to pass to a
world of which we know nothing, and in which we have no
means of conjecturing what will be the treatment which crime
and virtue will receive.  We ask them, can they demonstrate this
strange theory? Are men willing to risk their eternal welfare
on the presumption9 that God will be a different being there from
what he is here, and that the conduct which meets with wo here, will
there meet iwith bliss? Why not rather suppose, —as Christianity
does —according to all the analogy of things, that the same
Almighty hand shall be stretched across all worlds alike, and that
the bolts which vibrate in his hand now, and point their thunders
at the head of the guilty, shall fall with tremendous weight there,
and close, in eternal life and death, the scenes begun on earth?
We know of no men who are acting under so fearful probabilities against their views, as those who deny the doctrine of future
punishment. Here is.a long array of uniform facts, all, as we
understand them, founded on, the presumption that the scheme
of the infidel cannot be true. The system is continued through
all the revolutions to which men are subject. Conduct, in its
results, travels over all the interruptions of sleep, sickness,
absence, delirium, that man meets with, and passes on from age
to age.
The conduct of yesterday terminates in results to-day; that of
youth ext.ends into old age; that of health reaches even beyond a
season of sickness; that of sanity, beyond a state of delirium.
Crime here meets its punishment, it may be after we have
crossed,oceans, and snows, and sands, in some other part of the
Mlbe. Far fr.om country and home, in lands of strangers where




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.                XXV.o eye may recognise or pity us, but that of the unseen witness
"if bur actions, it follows us in remorse of conscience, or in the
ludoments of the storm, the siroc, or the ocean. We are amazed
wthat it should be thought that death will arrest this course or
things, and lttat crossing that narrow vale, will do for us what
the passage from yesterday to to-day, from youth to age, from
the land of our birth to the land of strangers and of solitudes, can
never do. Guilty man carries the elements of his own perdition
within him, and it matters little whether he be in society or in
solitude, in this world or *the next-the inward fires will burn,
and the sea and the dry land, and the burning climes of hell, will
send forth their curses to greet the wretched being, who has
dared to violate the laws of the unseen Cod, and to  "hail" him
as the " new possessor" of the " profoundest hell."
But the infidel still objects that all this is mere probability,
and that in concerns so vast, it is Unreasonable to act without
demonstration.  We reply, that in few of the concerns of life do
men act from demonstration. Tihe farmer sows with the probatility, only, that he will reap. The scholar toils with the probability, often a slender one, that his life will be prolonged, and
success crown his labours in subsequent life. The merchant
commits his treasures to the ocean, embarks perhaps all he has
on the bosom of the deep, under the probability that propitious
gales will waft the riches of the Indies into port.. Under this
probability, and this only, the ambitious man pants for honour,
the votary of pleasure presses to the scene of dissipation, the
youth, the virgin, the man of middle life, and he of hoary hairs,
alike crowd round the scenes of ho-nour, of vanity, and of gain.
Nay, more, some of the noblest qualities of the soul are brought
forth only on the strength of probabilities that appear slight to
less daring spirits. In the eye of his countrymen, few-things
were mnore improbable than that Columbus would survive the
dangers of the deep, and land on the shores of a new hemisphere.
Nothing appeared more absurd than his reasonings-nothing
more chimerical than his plans. Yet under the pressure of proof
that satisfied his own mind, he braved the dangers of an untrav.ersed ocean, and bent his course to regions whose existence
was as far from- the belief of the old world, as that of heaven is'llom the faith of the infidel. Nor could the unbelieving Spaniard
deny, that under the pressure of the probability of the existence
of a western continent, some of the highest qualities of mind
that the earth has seen, were exhibited by the Genoese navigator
-just as the infidel must admit that'some of the most firm and
noble expressions of soul have come from the enterprise'of gaining a heaven and a home, beyond the stormy and' untravelled
ocean, on which the Christian launches his bark in discovery of
a new world. We might add also here, the names of Bruce, of
Wallace, of Tell, of Washington. We might remark how they
commenced the great enterprises whose triumphant completion
has given immortality to their names, under the power of a
probability that their efforts would be successful. We might
3




X X i               INTRODUCTORY ESS.A.
r:m irk:oVw many more clouds of doubt and obscurity clustered
f.~c!l~d their enterprises, than have ever darkened the Christian s
I:.'- ho heaven, and how the grandest displays of patriotism and
prowess that the world has known, have grown out of the
haza-rdous design of rescuing Scotland, Switzerland and America
from slavery.  But we shall only observe that there was iust
enough probability of success in these cases to try these men's
souls-just as there is probability enough of heaven and hell, to
try the souls of infidels and of Christians, to bring out their true
character, and answer the great ends of moral government.
But here the infidel acts on the very principle which he condemns. He has not demonstrated that his system is true. From
the nature of the system he cannot do it. He acts then, on a
probability that his system may prove to be true.'And were the
subject one less serious than eternity,: might be amusing to
look at,the nature of these probabilities. His system assumes
it as probable that men will not be rewarded according to their
deeds; that Christianity will turn out to be false; that it will
appear that no such being as Jesus lived, or that it will-yet be
proved that he was an impostor; that twelve mein were deceived
in so plain a case as- that which related to the death and resurrection of an intimate friend; that they conspired to impose on
men without reward, contrary to all the acknowledged principies of human action, and when they could reap nothing for
their imposture but stripes, contempt, and death; that religion
did not early spread over the Roman empire; that the facts of
the New Testament are falsehood, and of course that all the
coteniporaneous confirmations of these facts collected by the
indefatigable Lardner, were false also: that the Jews occupy
their place in the nations by chance, and exist in a manner contrary to that of all other people, without reason; that all the predictions of their dispersion, of the coming of the Messiah,. of the
overthrow of Babylon and Jerusalem  and Tyre are conjectures,
in wvhich men, very barbarous men, conjectured exactly righl,
while thousands of the predictions of heathen oracles and statesIl:l i  are failed; that this singular fact should have happened,
t, It t.le most barbarous people should give to mankind the
fnly intelligible notices of God, and that a dozen Galilean peasants stlot!d have, devised a schelne of imposture to overthrow all
1Lh t —rue, and all the false systems of religion in the world. The
iiefidel moreover deems it probable that there is no God; or that
decath is an eternal sleep; or that we have no souls; or that
Iran is but an improved and educated ape, or that all virtue is
vain, that all vice stands on the same level, and may be conmrmitted at any man's pleasure; or that man's wisdom is to dis..
regard the future, and live to eat and drink and die; and all this
too, when his conscience tells him there is a God, when he does
act for the future, and expects happiness or wo as the reward o/f
viftue or vice; when he is palsied, as he looks at the grave, witti
fears of what is beyond, and turns pale in solitude as he looks
onward to the bar -- God. Now we hazard nothing in saying,




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.              Xxti
that the man who is compelled to act as the infidel is, who has
all these-probabilities to cheer.him with the belief that infideliyv
Is true, and this when it has no system to recommend as truth,
and when it stands opposed to all the analogy of things, is
engaged in a most singular employment, when he denounces
men for acting on the probability that there is a heaven, a God,
a Saviour, and a hell. It seems to us that there is nothing more
at war with all the noble and pure feelings of the soul, than this
attempt to "swing man from his moorings," and send him on
wild and tumultuous seas, with only the iinfidel's probability that
he will ever reach a haven of rest. It is launching into an
ocean, without a belief that there is an ocean; and weathering
storms, without professing to believe that there may be storms;
and seeking a port of peace, without believing that there is such
a port, and acting &aily with reference to the future, at the same
time that all is pronounced an absurdity. And when we see all
this, we ask instinctively, can this be man! Or is this being
right after all, in the belief that he is only a semi-barbarous ape,
or a half-reclaimed man of the woods?
But we are gravely told, and with an air of great seemting
wisdom, that all presumption and experience are against the
miraculous facts in the New Testament. And it was, for some
time, deemed proof of singular philosophical sagacity in Hume,
that he made the discovery, and put it on record to enlighten
tnankind. For our part, wre think far more attention was
bestowed on this sophistry than was required; and but for the
show of confident wisdom with which it was put forth, we think
the argument of Campbell might have been spared. It might
safely be admitted, we suppose, that all presumnption and experience, were against miraclis before they were wrought,-and this
is no more tha/n saying that they were not wrought before they
vere,  The plain matter of fact, apart from all laboured metaphysics, is, that there is a presumption against most facts until
they actually take place, because till that time all experience
was against them. Thus there were many presumptions against
the existence of such a man as Julius Cmsar. No man would
have ventured to predict that there would be such a man. There
were a thousand probabilites that a man of that name would not
live-as many that he would not cross the Rubicon-as many that
lie would not enslave his countrv —and as many that he wvould
not be slain by the hand of such a man as Brutus,-and all this
was contrary to experience. So there were innumerable inmprobabilities, in regard to the late Emperor of Fiance. Itrwas
once contemplated, we are told, by a living poet who afterwards
wrote his life in a different place, to produce a biography
grounded on the impr,babilities of his conduct, and showing how,
in fact, all those improbabilities disappeared in the actual result.
The world stood in amazement indeed for a few years at the
singular grandeur of his movements. Men saw him ride, as
She spirit of the storm, on the whirlwind of the revolution; and
like the spirit of the tempest, amazed and trembling nations




-NXV[i1           INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
knew not. where his power would strike, or what city or state it
would next sweep into ruin. But the world has since become
familiar with the spectacle,-men have seen that he was
naturally engendered by the turbid elements-that he was the
proper creation of the revolution —and that if he had not lived
some other master spirit like him would have seized the direction
of the tempest, and poured its desolations on bleeding and
trembling Europe. So any great discovery in science or art, is
previously improbable and contrary to experience. We have
often amused ourselves with contemplating what would have
been the efect on the mind of Archimedes, had he been told of
the power of one of the most common elements,-an element
which men who see boiling water must always see,-its mighty
energy in draining deep pits in the earth, in raising vast rocks
of granite, in propelling vessels with a rapidity and beauty of
which the ancients knew nothing, and in driving a thousand
wheels in the minutest and most delicate works of art. To the
ancient world all this was contrary to experience, and all presumption was against it,-as improbable certainly as that God
should have power to raise the dead; and we doubt whether any
evidence of divine revelation would have convinced mankind
three thousand years ago, without the actual experiment, of
what the school-boy may now know as a matter of sober an
daily occurrence, in the affairs of the world. So not long since, the
Copernican system of astronomy was so improbable, that for
maintaining it, Galileo endured the pains of the dungeon. All
presumption and all experience it was thought were against it.
Yet, by the discoveries of Newton, it has been made, to the
great mass of mankind, devoid of all its improbabilities, and
children acquiesce in' its reasonableness. So the oriental' king
could not be persuaded that water could ever become hard. It
was full of improbabilities, and contrary to all experience. The
plain matter of fact, is, that in regard to all events in history,
and all discoveries in science, and inventions in the mechanic
arts, there may be said to be a presumption against their existence, just as there was in regard to miracles; and they are contrary to all experience, until discovered, just as miracles are
until performed. And if this be all that infidelity has to affirm in
the boasted argument of Hume, it seems to be ushering into the
world, sv ith very unnecessary pomp, a very plain truism,-that
a new fact in the world is contrary to all experience, and tlhis is
thb same as saying that a thing is contrary to experience until
it actually is experienced.
We have another remark to make on this subject. It relates
to the ease with which the i'mprobabilities of a case may be over.
come by testimony. Wte doubt not that the wonders of the
steam power may be now credited by all mankind, and we who
have seen its application in so many forms, easily believe that
it may accomplish similar wonders in combinations which the
world has not yet witnessed. The incredulity of the age of
Galileo on the. subject of astronomy, has been overcomxe among




INfiODUCTORY ESSAY.              xXiX
millions whoit cannot trace the demonstrations of Newton, fid
who perhaps have never heard his name. It is by testimony only
that all this is done; and on the strength of this testimony, man
will hazard any worldly interest. He will circumnavigate the
globe, not at all deterred by the fear that he may find in distant
seas or lands, different laws from which the Copernican systemn
supposes. We do not see why, in like manner, the improbabilities of religion may not vanish before testimony; and its high
mysteries in some advanced period of our existence, become as
familiar to us, as the common facts which are now the subjects
of our daily observation. Nor can we see why the antecedent
difficulties of religion may not as easily be removed by competent proof, as those which appalled the minds of men in the granaeur of the astronomical system, or the mighty power of the arts.
We wish here briefly to notice another difficulty of infidelity.
It is, that it is altogether improbable and against the analogy of
things, that the Son of God, the equal of the Father of the universe, should stoop to the humiliating scenes of the mediation,should consent to be cursed, reviled, buffetted, and put to death.
We answer, men are very incompetent judges of what a Divine
Being may be willing to endure. Who would suppose, beforehand, that God would submrit to blasphemy and rebuke? Yet
what being has been ever more calumniated? Who has been
the object of more scorn? What is the daily offering that goes
up from the wide world to the Maker of all worlds?  Not a
nation that does not daily send up a dense cloud of obscenity and
profaneness as their offering.
"The dwellers in the vales and on the rocks
"Shout to each other; and the mountain tops
"' From distant mountains catch the flying' curse,
"Till nation after nation taught the strain,
"' Earth rolls the awful malediction round.'"
Scarce a corner of the street can be turned, but our ears are
saluted with the sound of blasphemy-curses poured on Jehovah, on his Son, on his Spirit, on his creatures, on the material
universe, on his law. To our minds, it is no more strange that
the Son of God should bear reproach, and pain, with patience for
thirty years, than that the God of creation should bear all this from
age to age, and as an offering from the wide world. We hive
only to reflect on what the blasphemer would do if God should be
imbodied, and reveal himself to the eye in a form so that human
hands might reach him with nails, and spears, and mock diadems, to see an illustration of what they actually did do, when
his Son put himself in the power of blasphemers, and refused
not to die. The history of the blasphemer has shown that if he
nad the power, long ago the last gem in the Creator's crown
would have been plucked away; his throne would have crumoled beneath him; his sceptre been wrested from his hand; and
the God of creation, like his Son in redemption. would have
been suspended on a "great central" cross' When we see
3*




,XX                INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
the patience of God towards blasphemers, our minds are nevel
staggered by any condescension in the Redeemer. We see
something in the analogy, so unlike what we see among men,
that we are strongly confirmed in the belief that they are a part
of one great system of things.
We have thus presented a specimen of the nature of the argument from analogy. Our design has been to excite to inquiry,
and to lead our readers to cultivate a practical acquaintance
with this great work. We deem it a work of principles in theology-a work to be appreciated only by those who think for
themselves, and who are willing to be at the trouble of carrying
out these materials for thought into a daily practical application
to the thousand difficulties, which beset the path of Christians in
their own privatereflections, in the facts which they encounter,
and in the inuendoes, jibes, and blasphemies of infidels. We
know, indeed, that the argument is calculated to silence rather
than to convince. In our view, this is what, on this subject, is
principally needed. The question in our minds is rather, whether we may believe there is a future state, than whether we
must believe it. Sufficient. for mortals, we think is it, in their
wanderings, their crimes, and their sorrows, if they may believe
there is a place where the wicked cease from troubling, and the
weary may be for ever at rest; and'if the thousand shades of
doubt on that subject which thicken on the path of man, and
which assume a deeper hue by infidel arts, may be removed.
We ask only the privilege of believing that there is a world of
purity; that the troubled elements of our chaotic abode may
settle down into rest; and' that from the heavings of this
moving sea there may arise a fair moral system complete in all
its parts, where God shall be all in all, and where all creatures
may admire the beauty of his moral character, and the grandeur of his sovereign control. We watch.the progress of this
system, much as we may suppose a spectator would have
watched the process of the first creation.  At first this now
solid globe was a wild chaotic mass. Daikness and commotion
were there. There was a vast heaving deep-a boundless commingling of elements-a dismal terrific wild. Who, in lookino
on that moving mass, would have tound evidence that the
beauty of Eden would so soon start up on its surface, and the fair
proportions of our hills, and vales, and streams, would rise to
give support to millions of animated and happy beings.  And
with what intensity would the observer behold the light burst.
ing on chaos-the rush of waters to their deep caverns-the
uprising of the hills clothed with verdure, inviting to life and
felicity. With what beauty would appear the millions sporting
with new-created life in their proper elemrients, Myriads in the
heaving ocean and gushing streams mvriads melodious in the
groves-myriads joyfill on a thousand hills, and in a thousand
vales. How grand the completion of the system-man lord of
all, clothed with power over the bursting millions, the priest of
this new creation, rendering homage to its Great Sovereign




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.          
Lord, and " extolling him first, him midst, and him without end."
Like beauty and grandeur, we expect will come out of this
deranged moral system.  Our eye loves to trace its developer
ment.  With tears wve look back on "Paradise Lost" "-with
exultation we trace the unfolding elements of a process that
shall soon exhibit the beauty and grandeur of "Paradise
regained."
There is still a most important part of the subject untouched —
the analogy of the Christian scheme, as we understand it, to the
course of nature, and the fact that all the objections urged against
(Calvinismn lie against the actual order of events. This part of the
arg.ument, Butler has not touched. To this, we propose now to.all the attention of our readers-in some respects the most interesting and important part of" the analogy of religion, natural
and revealed, to the constitution and course of nature."
Thus far we have'had our eye fixed on the infidel. We wish
now to direct our attention to the opponents of what we consider
the Christian scheme, and inquire whether Butler has not- furiished us materials to annihilate every objection against what
are called the doctrines of grace. We say material, fbr we are
well aware that he did not complete the argument. We suppose
that, had his object been to carry it to its utmost extent, there
were two important causes which would have arrested its progress where it actually has stopped. The first is found in Butler's own views of the Christian scheme. We are not calling in
question his piety, but we have not seen evidence that he had
himself fully embraced the evangelical system, and applied his
argument to the peculiar doctrines of the gospel. We fear that
he stopped short of such a result in his own feelings, and that this
may have been the reason why that system had not a more prominent place in his work. Still, we would not apply the languace of severe criticism to this deficiency in the Analogy. We
know his design. It was to meet the infidelity of an age of
peculiar thoughtlessness and vice. He did it. He reared an
argument which infidels have thought it most prudent to let
alone. They have made new attacks in other modes. Driven
from this field, they have yielded it into the hands of Butler,and their wisdom has consisted in withdrawing as silently as
possible from the field, and losing the recollection both of the din
of conflict and the shame of defeat. It has always been one of
the arts of infidelity and error, to forget the scene of previous
conflict and overthrow. Singular adroitness is manifested in
keeping from the public eye the fact and the monuments of such
disastrous encounters. Thus Butler stands as grand and solitary
a's a pyramid of Egypt, and we might add, nearly as much forsaken by those for whose benefit he wrote. And thus Edwards
on the Will is conveniently forgotten by hosts of Arminians, who
continue to urge their arguments with as much self-gratulation,
as though previous hosts of Arminians had never been prostrated
by his mighty arm. Could we awaken the unpleasant reminiscence in the infidels of our age, that there was such a man as




xxxii              INTRaODUCTORY ESSAY.
Butler, and in the opposers of the doctrines of grace, that there
is extant in the English language such a book, as "A careful
inquiry into the modern prevailing notions on the freedom of the
Will," we should do more, perhaps, than by any one means to
disturb the equanimity of multitudes, who live only to deal out
dogmas as if they had never been confuted; and we might hope
to arrest the progress of those destructive errors which are
spreading in a thousand channels through the land.
The other cause of the deficiency which we notice in the Analogy, is, that it was not possible'for Butler, with the statements
then made of the doctrines of grace, to carry out his argument,
and give-it its true bearing on those doctrines. The philosphical
principles on which Calvinism had been defended for a century
and a half, were substantially those of the schoelmen. The system had started out from darker ages of the wo~rld; had been
connected with minds of singular strength and power, but also
with traits in some degree stern and forbidding. Men had been
thrown into desperate mental conflict. They had struggled for
mental and civil freedom. They had but little leisure, and less
inclination, to polish and adorn-to go into an investigation of
tne true laws of the mi.nd, and the proper explanation of facts in
the moral world- little inclination to. look on what was- bland
and amiable in the government of God. Hence they took the
rough-cast system, wielded, in its defence, the ponderous weapons wbich Augustine and even the Jansenists had furnished
them, and prevailed in the conflict; not, however, by the force
of their philosophy, but of those decisive declarations of the word
of God, with which unhappily that philosophy had become idean
tified. But when they told of imputing the sin of one man to
another, and of holding that other to be personally answerable for
it, it is no wonder that such minds as that of Butler recoiled, for
there is nothing like this in nature.  When they affirmed, that
men have no power to do the will of God, and yet will be damned
for not doing what they have no capacity to perform, it is no
wonder that he started back, and refused to attempt to rind an
analogy; for it is unlike the common sense of men. When they
told of a limited atonement —of confining the originaI applicability of the blood of Christ to the elect alone, there was no analogy to this, in all the dealings of God towards sinners; in the
sun-beam, in the dew, the rain, in running rivulets or oceans;
and here Butler must stop, for the'analfgy could go no furth-er
upon the then prevalent notions of theqlogy.
Still, we record with gratitude the achievements of Butler.
We render our humble tribute of thanksgiving to God, that he
raised up a man who has laid the foundation of an argument
which can be applied to every feature of the Christian scheme.
We are not Hutchinsonians, but we believe there is a course of
nature most strikingly analogous to' the doctrines of revelation.
We believe that all the objections which have been urged against
the peculiar doctrines of the Christian scheme, hle with equal
weight against the course of nature itself. and, therefore, really




INTiObUCTOtLY ESSAY.              XxxiK
constitute no objections at all.  This point of the argument,
Butler has omitted. To a contemplation of tlihe outline of it we
now ask the attention of our readers.
WVe are accustomed, in our ordinary technical theology, to
speak m9lch of the doctrines of Christianity: and men of systemmaking minds have talked of them so long, that they seeln to
understand by them, a sort of intangible and abstract array of
propositions, remote from real life and from plain matter of fact.
The learner in divinity is often told, that there is a species of
daring profaneness, in supposing that they are to be shaped to
existing facts, or to the actual operations of moral agents. All
this is metaphysics, and the moment he dares to ask whether
Turretin or Ridgeley had proper conceptions of the laws of the
mind, of moral agency, or of facts in; the universe, that moment
the shades of all antiquity are summoned to come around the
adventurous theologian, and charge him with a guilty departure
from dogmas long held in the church.
Now we confess we have imbibed somewhat different notions
of the doctrines of the Bible. We have been accustomed to regard
the word as denoting only an authoritative teaching, (,dh,,,
Matt. vii. 28: comp. v. 19; xxii. 33; 2 Tim. iv. 2, 9,) of what
actually exists in the universe. We consider the whole system of
doctrines as simply a statement of facts. The doctrine of the
Trinity, for example, is a statement of a fact respecting the mode
of God's existence. The fact is beyond any investigation of our
own minds, and we receive the statement as it is. The doctrine
of the mediation is a statement of facts, respecting what Christ
did, and taught, and suffered, as given by himself and his foil
lowers. So of depravity, so of election or predestination, so of
perseverance, so of future happiness and wo. What, then, are
the doctrines of Christianity? Simply statements of what has
been, of what is, and what will be, in the government of God. In
this, every thing. is as far as possible from abstraction. There
is as little abstraction, (and why may we not add as little sacredness?) in these facts, —we mean sacredness to prevent inquiry
into their true nature-as there is in the science of geology, the
growth ef a vegetable, or the operations of the human intellect.
We may add, that in no way has systematic theology rendered
more essential disservice to mankind, than in drawing out the
life-blood from these great facts —unstringing the nerves, stiffening the muscles, and giving the fixedness of death to them, as
the anatomist cuts up the human firame, removes all the elements of life, distends the arteries and veins with wax, and then
places it in his room of preparations, as cold and repulsive as. are
some systems of technical divinity.
In the doctrines of Christianity, as given us in the Bible, we
find nothing of this abstract and unreal character. The whole
tenor of the Scriptures prepares us to demand, that theology be
invariably conformed to the laws of the mind, and the actual
economy of the moral and material universe. The changes
wx hich have taken place in orthodox systems of divinity since the




XXXIV              INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
era of the reformation, have been chiefly owing to the changes
in the system  of mental and moral science. Whenever that
system shall be fully understood, and established on the immo.
vable foundation of truth, all who love the Lord Jesus Christ in
sincerity, will be of one mind in their mode of stating the doetrines of the gospel, as they already are in their spiritual feel.
ingt.  Till then; all that can be done by the friends of truth will
be to show, that the objections which are urged against the doctrines of grace, can be urged with equal power, against all the
facts in God's moral government.
From the beginning, formidable objections have been brought
against what are called the Doctrines of Grace, or the Evangelical System, or Calvinism. These objections have seldom, if
ever, been drawn from the Bible. Their strength has consisted
in the alleged fact, that these doctrines. are in opposition to the
established principles, by which God governs the world. We
concede, that there is just enough of apparent irregularity in
those principles, to make these objections plausible with the
great mass of men,'just as there was enough of irregularity and
improbability in the Copernican system of astronomy, to make
it for a long time liable to many and plausible objections. Certain appearances strongly favoured the old doctrine, that the sun,
moon, and stars trairelleJl in marshalled hosts, around our insignificant orb, just as, in the Arminian system, certain appearances may seem to indicate that man is the centre cf the system,
and that God, and all the hosts of heaven, live and act chiefiv to
minister to his comfort. But it is now clear, that all the proper
facts in astronomy go to prove, that the earth is a small part of'
the plan, and to confirm the system of Copernicus. So we affirm
that the Calvinistic scheme-despite all Arminian appearances,
is the plan on which this world is actually governed; and that
alr the objections that have been urged against it are urged
against facts that are fixed in the very nature of things. And
we affirm that a mind which could take in all these facts, could
malke up the Calvinistic scheme without the aid of revelation,
from the actual course of eventsi just as in the ruins of an
ancient city the skilful architect can discern in the broken fragments, pillars of just dimensions, arches of proper proportions,
and the remains of edifices of symmetry and grandeur.
In entering on this subject, however, we cannot but remark,
that the Evangelical Scheme is often held answerable for that
which it did not originate.  We mean, that when opposers
alproach the ChrNitian system, they almost universally hold it
responsible for the fall, as well as the recovery, of man. They
are not willing to consider, that it is a scheme proposed to remedy
an existing state of evil. Christianity did not plunge men inta
sin. It is the system by which men are to be -ecovered firom
vo-wo which would have existed to quite as great an extent,
certainly if the conception of the evangelical systern had never
entered tMe divine mind. The themoy and practice of medicine
is not to be held answerable for the fact that man is subject' to




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.               XXXV
disease and death. It finds men thus subject; and all that can
be justly required of the art, is that to which it makes pretensions, viz, that it can do something towards removing or alleviating human suffering. So in Christianity. That men -are in
fact in the midst of sin, suffering, and death, is undeniable. The
doctrine is common to the deist, the atheist, and the Christian.
For that Christianity is not answerable. It proposes a remedy,
and that remedy is properly the-Christian system. Still we
shall not, in our present discussion, avail ourselves of this very
obvious remark; but shall proceed to notice the objections to the
entire series of revealed facts, as if they constituted one systemn:
- -and the rather as the evangelical system proposes a statement
respecting the exact extent of the evil, which has an important
bearing on the features of the remedy proposed.
1. The first fact, then, presented for our- examination is the
fall of man. The Scriptures affirml that a solitary act-an act
_n itself exceedingly unimportant'-was the beginning of that
ong train of sin and wretchedness- which has passed upon our
world. Now, we acknowledge that to all the mystery and fearfulness of this fact our bosoms beat with a full response to that
of the objector.  i We do not understand the reason of it; and
what is of'more consequence to us and to the objector is, Uliat
an explanation of this mystery, forms no part of the system of 7evelation. The only inquiry at present before us, is, whether the
fact in question is so separated from all other events,-as to be
expressly contradicted by the analogy of nature.
We know there has been a theory, which affirms that we are
one with Adam-that we so existed in his loins, as to act with
him-that our wills concurred with his will-that his action was
strictly and properly ours-and that we are held answerable at
the bar of justice for that deed just as A. B. at fifty is respionsible for the deed of A. B. at twelve. In other words, that ti-e act
of Adam, involving us all in ruin, is taken out of all ordinary'
laws by which God governs the world, and made to stand by
itself, as incapable of any illustration from  analogy,'and as
mocking any attempt to defend it by reasoning. With this
theory, we confess wve have no sympathy; and we shall dismiss
it with saying, that in our view, Christian'ty never teaches that
men are responsible for any sin but their own; nor Can they be
guilty, or held liable to punishment, in the proper sense of that
term, for conduct other than that which has grown out of their
own wills. Indeed we see not how, if it were a dogma of a pretended revelation, that God might at pleasure, and by an'arbitrary decree, make crime pass from one individual to anotherstriking onward from age to age, and reaching downward to
"the last season of recorded time," —punished in the original
offender; repunished in his children; and punished again and
again, by infinite multiples, in countless ages and individualsand all this judicial infliction, for'a single act, performed cycles
of ages before the individuals lived, we sepq.not how any evidence
could shake our intrinsic belief that this is unjust a-ad improbable.




XXXV1              INTRODUCTORY ESSAT'
We confess we have imbibed other views of justice; and we
believe that he who can find the head and members of" this the.
ory in the Bible, will have no diffictlty in finding there any of
the dogmas of the darkest night that ever settled on the church.
~But, that the consequences or results of an action may pass over
from one individual to another, and affect the condition of unborn
generations, we hold to be a doctrine of the sacred Scriptures,
and to be fully sustained by the analogy of nature.*  And no
one who looks at the scriptural account of the fall and recovery
of man, can doubt that it is a cardinal point in the system.  We
affirm that it is a doctrine fully sustained by the course of events
around us. Indeed the fact is so common, that. we should be
exhausting the patience of our readers by attempting to draw out
formal instances.  Who is ignorant of the progressive and
descending doom of the drunkard?  Who-is stranger to the
common fact, that his intemperance wastes the property which
was necessary to save a wife and children from beggary- that
his appetite may. be the cause of his family's being despised, illi-.
terate and ruined; that the vices which follow in the train of his
intemperance, often encompass his offspring, and that they too
are profane, unprincipled, idle, and loathsome? So of the murderer, the thief, the highwayman, the adulterer.  The result of
their conduct rarely terminates with themselves. They are lost
to society, and their children are lost with them. Nor does the
evil stop here.  Not merely are the external circumstances of the
child affected by the misdeeds of a parent, but there is often a
dark suspicion resting upon his very soul, there is felt to be in
him a hereditary presumptive tendency to crime, which can be
removed only by a long course of virtuous conduct, and which
even then the slightest circumstance re-excites. Is an illegitimate child to blame for the aberration of a mother? Yet who
is ignorant of the fact that, in very few conditions of society,
such a son is placed on a level with the issue of lawful wedlock? 
So the world over, we approach the son of the drunkard, the
nmurderer, and the traitor, with all these terrible suspicions. The
father's deeds shut our doors against him. Nor can he be raised
to the level of his former state, but by a long course of purity
and well-doing. Now in all these cases, we see a general course
of things in Divine Providence, corresponding, in important
respects, to the case of Adam and his descendants. We do not
deem the child guilty, or ill-deserving, but society is so organized.
and sin is so great an evil, that the proper effects cannot be seen, and
the proper terror be infused into the mind to deter froom it, wzthOut
such an organization. It is true that these results do not take place
with undeviating certainty. It is not always the case that the
*Rom. v. 12-19; 1 Cor. xv. 21, 22, 49; Josh. vii. 24, 25; Ex. xvii. 16;
1' Sam. xv. 2... PMatt. xxiii.'35. This view is by no means confined to
re-velation. The ancient heathen long since observed it, and regarded it
as tile great printciple d4 which the Wvorld was governed. Thus-Hesiod
siys, TroXa KaL,a: futra6a 7ors KICKOV avipoo Eravfpov: And Horace says,
QOuicquid delirant reges plectuntur Achivi.




INTRODtUCTORY  SSAT.              %xXVil
child of a drunkard is intemperate, idle, or illiterate; while it is
always the case, that a descendant of Adam is a sinner. In the
former case, there may be other laws of government to prevent
she regular operations of the plan. In the latter, God has not
seen fit wholly to interrupt the regular process in a single
instance. Even when men are renewed-as the child of the
drunkard may be removed from the regular curse of the parent's
conduct-the renewed man still is imperfect, and still suffers
pain and death.
But, we know, there is an appearance of much that is formi.
dable in the difficulty, that a single act, and that a most unimportant one, should result in so many crimes and calamities.
But the objection, as we have seen, lies against the course of
nature, as truly as against the revealed facts resolting from the
connexion of Adam and his descendants. To lessen the objection, we would further remark, that it is not the outward form of
an action which determines its character and results. The blow
which in self-defence strikes a highwayman to the earth, may
have the same physical qualities, as that which- reached the
heart of the venerable White of Salem. It is the circumstances,
the attendants, the relations, the links that bind the deed to
others, which determine the character of the action. Adam's
act had this towering preeminence, that it was the first in the
newly created globe, and committed by the first of mortals; the
prospective father of immense multitudes.  In looking at it,
then, we are to turn from the mere physical act, to run the eye
along the conduct of his descendants, and to see if we can find
any other deeds that shall be first in a series, and then to mark
their results, and in them we shall find the proper analogy. Now
it is evident, that here we shall find no other act that will have
the same awful peculiarity as the deed of our first father.  But
are there no acts that can be set over against this, to illustrate
its unhappy consequences? We look, then, at the deed of a man
of high standing whose character has been blameless, and whose
ancestry has been noble. We suppose him, in an evil moment,
to listen to temptation, to fall into the -wiles of the p-rofligate, or
even to become a traitor to his country. Now who does not see
liow the fact of this being a first and characteristic deed, may
entail deeper misery on his friends, and stain the escutcheon of
his family with a broader and fouler blot? Or take an instance
which approaches still nearer to the circumstances of our first
parents' crime.  One false step, the first in a before virtuous
fenmale of honourable parentage, and high standing, spreads sackcloth and wo over entire families, and sends the curse prolonged
lfar into advancing years.  It needs no remark to show how
much that deed may differ in its results, from any subsequent
acts of profligacy in that individual.  The first act has spread
mourning throughout every circle of friends. Lost now to virtue, and disowned by friends, the subsequent conduct may be
regarded as in character, and the results terminate only in the
Dffending individual. It is impossible here not to recur to the




txxviii            INTRODIUCTORYt ESSAS.
melancholy case of Dr. Dodd. His crime differed -not from other
acts of forgery except in his circumstances. It was afirst deed,
the deed of a man of distinction, of supposed piety, of a pule and
nigh profession, and the deed stood out with a dreadful preeminence in the eyes of the world; nor could the purity of his
profession, nor the eloquence of Johnson, tior the voice of thirty
thousand petitioners, nor the native compassion of George III.
save him from the tremendous malediction of the law-a death
as conspicuous as the offence was primary and eminent.
We think, from this peculiarity of a first offence, we can meet
many of the objections ivhich men allege against the doctrines
of revelation, on the subject. If further illustration were needed,
we might speak of the opposite, and advert to the well-known
fact, that a first distinguished act in a progenitor may: result in
the lasting good of those connected with him by. the ties of kindred or of law. Who can reflect without emotion on the great
deed by which Columbus discovered the western world, and the
glory it has shed on his family, and the interest which. in consequence of it has arisen at the very name, and which we feel for
any mortalthat is connected with him.  Who can remember
without deep feeling, the philanthropy of Howard, and the deathless lustre which his benevolence has thrown over his family arid
his name. Who thinks of the family of Washingtonl without
some deep emotion, running back to the illustrious man whose
glory has shed its radiance around Mount Vernon, around his
family, around our capital, and over all our battle-fields, and all
tile millions of whom he was the constituted political father.'There is a peculiarity in the great first deed which sheds a lustre
on all that, by any laws of association, can be c(onnected with it.
Compared with other deeds, having perhaps the same physical
dimensions, it is like the lustre of the sun diffusing his lhean.s
over all the planets, when contrasted with the borrowed, reflectcd
rays of the moon which shines upon our little globe.
Now  we think there is an analogy between these cases atnd
that ft Adam. because we think it is a fixed principle in moral
as in natural legislation; that the same law is applicable to the
sanc facts. We find a series of facts on the earth, and, a similitr ~eries in the movement of the planets, and we have a single
term to express the whole-gravitation. We deem it unphilosophical to suppose the nature is there, in the same facts, subjected to different laws, from -what passes before our own eyes.
So when we find one uniform process in regard to moral conduct-when we find results, consequences and not crimes travel
ling from father to son, and holding on their unbroken way to
distant ages, why should we hesitate to admit, that to a great
extent, at least, the facts respecting Adam and his descendants
fall under the same great law of divine providence? We do not
here deny, that there may have been beyond this a peculiarity in
the case of Adam, which must be referred to the decisions of
divine wisdom, and justified on other principles than those of any
known analogy. But we never can adopt that system which




1NTRODUCTORY ESSAY.                XXX.F.
tramples on all the analogies which actually exist, and holds
men to be personally answerable, and actually punished by a just
God, for an act committed thousands of years before they were
Dorn. Such a doctrine is no where to be found in the scriptures.
2. As-the result of this act of Adam, Christianity affirms thai
man is depraved. It has marked the character and extent ot
this depravity, with a particularity which we wonder has evei
been called into debate.* It affirms that mnan is by nature destitute of holiness, and it is on the ground of this fact that the
Christian scheme was necessary. There is one great principle
running through the whole of this scheme, which renders it
what it is, viz.-the appointment of a Mediator.  It regards man
as so fallen, and so helpless, that but for an extraordinary intervention-the appointment of some' being that should interpose
to save, it was impossible that any native elasticity in the human
powers or will, or any device which human ingenuity might fall
on, should raise him up, and restore him to the favour of God.
Now the thing which most manifestly. characterizes this sys.
tem is the doctrine of substitution-or the fact that Jesus Ohrist
lived for others, toiled for others, and died for others; or, in other
words, that God bestows upon us pardon and life in consequence
of what his Son has done'and suffered in our stead.- The
peculiarity which distinguishes this system from all others, is,
that man does not approach his Maker directly, but only through
the atonement of the Son of God.
Now in recurring to the analogy of nature, we have only to
ask, whether calamities which are hastening to fall on us, are
ever put back by the intervention of another? Are there any
cases in which either our own crimes or the manifest judgments
of God, are bringing ruin upon us, where that ruin is turned
aside by the interposition of others?  Now we at once cast our
eves backward to all the helpless and dangerous periods of our
being   Did God come forth directly, and protect us in the
defenceless period of infancy?  Who watched over the sleep of
the cradle, and guarded us in sickness and helplessness? It was
the tenderness of a mother bending over our slumbering childhood, foregoing sleep, and rest, and ease, and hailing- toil and
care that we might be defended. Why then is it strange, that
when God thus ushers us into existence through the pain and
toil of another, that he should convey the blessings of a higher
existence by the groans and pangs of a higher mediator? God
gives us knowledge.  But does he come forth to teach us by
inspiration, or guide us by his own hand to the fountains of
wisdom? It is- by-years of patient toil in. others, that we pos.
sess the elements of science, the principles of morals, the endowments of religion.  He gives us food and raiment.  Is the,reat Parent of Benevolence seen clothing us by his own hand,
* Rom. i. 21-32; iii. 10-19; v. 12; vii. 6, 7. Gen. viii. 21. Ps. xiv
1 -3. Eph. ii. 1-3. 1 John v. 19. John iii. 1-6.
t JoIn i. 29. Eph. v. 2. 1 John ii. 2; iv. 10. Isa. liii. 4. Rom. iii
M4,25. 2 Cor. v. 14. 1,Pet. ii. 21.




xi                 rNTRODMCtORY tSSAV.
or ministering directly to our wants? Who makes provisions
for the sons and daughters of feebleness, or gaiety, or idleness?
Who but the care-worn And anxious father and mother, who toil
that their offspring may receive these benefits fromn their hands.
Why then may not the garments of salvation, and the manna
of life, come through a higher mediator, and be the fruit of
severer toil and sufferiiigs? Heaven's highest, richest, benefits
are thus conveyed to the tace through thousands of hands acting
as mediums between man and God. It is thus, through the
instrumentality of othe is, that the Great Giver of life breathes
health into our bodies and vigour into our frames. And why
should he not reach also the sick and weary mind-the soul languishing under a long and wretched disease, by the hand of a
mediator? Why should he not kindle the glow of spiritual
health on the wan cheek, and infuse celestial life into our veins,
by him who is the great physician of souls?  The very earth,
air, waters, are all channels for conveying blessingsto us from
God. Why then should the infidel stand back, and all sinners
frown, when we claim the same thing in redemption, and affirm
that, in this great concern, "there is one mediator between God
and man, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself a ransom
for all."
But still it may be said, that this is not an atonement. We
admit it. We maintain only that it vindicates the main princi.
ple of the atonement, and shows that it is according to a general law, that God imparts spiritual blessings to us through a
mediator. What we ask is the precise objectionable point in
the atonement, if it be not, that God aids us in our sins and
woes, by the self-denial and sufferings of another?  And we
ask, whether there is any thing so peculiar in such a system, as
to make it intrinsically absurd and incredible? Now we think
there is nothing more universal and indisputable than a system
of nature like this. God has made the whole animal world
tributary to man. And it is by the toil and pain of creation,
that our wants are supplied, our appetites gratified, our bodies
sustained, our sickness alleviated-that is, the impending evils
of labour, famine, or disease are put away by these substituted
toils and privations. By the blood of patriots he gives us the
blessings of liberty,-that is, by their sufferings in our defence
we are delivered from the miseries of rapine, murder, or slavery,
which might have encompassed our dwellings. The toil of a
father, is the price by which a son is saved from ignorance,
depravity, want, or death. The tears of a mother, and her lolug
watchfulness, save from the perils of infancy., and an early
death. Friend aids friend by toil; a parent foregoes rest for a
child; and the patriot pours out his blood on the altars of freedom, that others may enjoy the blessings of liberty-that is, that
others may not be doomed to slavery, want, and death.
Yet still it may be said, that we have not come, in the analogy,
to the precise point of the atonement, in producir.g reconciiiaticn
with God by the sufferings of another. We ask, then, what is




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.                  xli
the scripture account of the effect of the atonement in prqducing
reconciliation?  Man is justly exposed to suffering. He is
guilty, and it is the righteous purpose of God that the guilty
should suffer. God is so opposed to him that he will inflict
suffering on him, unless by an atonement it is prevented. By
the intervention of the atonement, therefore, the scriptures
affirm that such sufferings shall be averted. The man shall be
saved from the impending calamity.  Sufficient for all the purposes of justice, and of just government, has fallen on the substitute, and the sinner may be pardoned and reconciled to God.
Now, we affirm, that in every instance of the substituted suffer
ntgs, or self-denial of the parent, the patriot, or the benefactor,
there occurs a state of things so analogous to this, as to show
that it is in strict accordance with the just government of God,
and tq-remove all the objections to the peculiarity of the atonement.  Over a helpless babe-ushered into the world, naked
feeble, speechless, there impends hunger, cold, sickness, sudden
death-a mother's watchfulness averts these evils.  Over a
nation impend revolutions, sword, famine, and the pestilence.
The blood of the patriot averts these, and the nation smiles in
peace.  Look at a particular instance.  Xerxes poured his mil
lions on the shores of Greece. The vast host darkened all the
plains, and stretched towards the capitol. In the train there
followed weeping, blood, conflagration, and the loss of liberty.
Leonidas almost alone, stood in his path. He fought. Who
can calculate the effects of the valour and blood of that single
man and his compatriots in averting calamities from  Greece.
and from other nations struggling in the cause of freedom?
Who can tell how much of rapine, of cruelty, and of groans and
tears it turned away from that nation?
Now we by no means affirm that this is all that is meant by an
atonement, as revealed by Christianity.  We affirm  only, that
there is a sufficient similarity in the two cases, to remove the
points of objection to an atonement, made by thle infidel,-to'show that reconciliation by the sufferings of another, or a putting
away evils by the intervention of a mediator,- is not a violation
of the analogies of the natural and moral world.  Indeed we
should have thought it an argument for the rejection or a system, if it had not contemplated the removal of evils by the toils
and pains of substitution.  We maintain that the system of the
Unitarians which denies all such substitution, is a violation of
all the modes in which God has yet dispensed his blessings to
men. In the nature of the case, there is all the antecedent presumption there could be, that, if God intended to confer saving
blessings on mankind, it would be, by the interposition of the
toils, groans, and blood, of a common mediating friend.  The
well known case of the king of the Locrians, is only an instance
of the way in which reconciliation is to be brought about amr(ang
men.  lie made a law  that the adulterer should be punisl.ed
with the loss of his eyes. HIis son was the first offender.'I he
feelings of the father and the justice of the king conflicted




lii                IN rRODUCTORY ESSAY.
Reconciliation was produced by suffering the loss of one eye
him.self, and inflicting the remainder of ihe penalty on his son
But still, there are t-*o points in the atonement so well sub.
stantiated, and yet apparently contradictory, that it becomes an
interesting inquiry, whether both positions can find an analogy in
the course of events. The first is, that the atonement wasorigin.
ally applicable to all men —that it was not limited by its nature
to any class of men, or any particular individuals-that it was
an offering made for the race,* and is, when made, in the widest
and fullest sense, the, property of man; and the second is, thlat it
is actually applied to only a portion of the race, and that it was
the purpose of God that it should be so applied.t
Now in regard to'thefirst aspect of the atonement suggested,
we can no more doubt that it had this original universal applicability, than we can any of the plainest propositions of tile
Bible. If this is not clear, nothing can be clear in the use of tlhe
Greek and English tongues-and we discern in this, we think, a
strict accordance with the ordinary provisions which God has
made for man.  We look at any of his gift —from tjie smallest'
that makes life comfortable, to the richest in redemption, and a e
shall not find one, that in its nature, is limited in its applicability
to any class of individuals. The sun on which we look sheds
his rays on all —on all alike; the air we breathe has an original
adaptation to all who may inhale it, and is ample for the want of
any number of millions.  From the light of the feeblest star, to
full-orbed day; from the smallest dew drop, to the mountain
torrent; from the blushing violet, to the far scented magnolia;
there is an original applicability of the gifts of providence to all
the race: they are fitted to man as man, and the grandeur of
God's beneficence appears in spreading the earth with fruits and
flowers, making it one wide garden, in place of the straitened
paradise that was lost. We might defy the most acute defender
of the doctrine of limited atonement, to produce an instance in
the provisions of God, where there was a designed limitation in
the nature of the thing. We shall be slow to believe that God
has not a uniform plan in his mode of governing men.
But still it will be asked, what is the use of a universal atonement, if it is not actually applied to all?  Does God work in
vain? Or would lie make a provision in the dying groans of
his Son, that was to be useless to the universe? We might
say here, that in our view, there is no waste of this provision,that the sufferings which were requisite for the race, were only
those which were demanded in behalf of a single individual:
and that we are ignorant of the way of applying guages and
decimal admeasurements and pecuniary computations to a grand
moral transaction. But we reply, that it is according to God's
way of doing things, that many of his plovisions should appeai
to us to be vain. We see in this, the hand of the same God
* 2Cor. v. 14, 15. 1 John ii. 2. Ieb. ii. 9. John iii. 16,17; vi. 51. 2Pet. ii. 1
tIsa. liii. 10. John xvii. 2. Eph. i. 3-11. Rom. viii. 29, 30; iv.
15-24. John vi. 37, 39. 2 Tnn. i. ix.




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.                xliil
that pours the rays of noon-day on barren sands, and genial
showers on desert rocks, where no man is-to our eye, though
not to his, in vain. Who.knows not that the sun sheds his daily
beams on half the globe covered with trackless waters; and
around thousands of dungeons where groans in darkness the
prisoner?  But some Solon or Cadmus may yet cross these
oceans, to bear law and letters to the barbarian; some Howard
to pity and relieve the sufferer; some Xavier or Vanderkemp to
tell benighted men of the dying and risen Son of God. So we
say of the atonement. It is not useless. Other ages shall open
their eyes upon this sun of righteousness; shall wash in this
open fountain; shall pluck the fruit from this tree of life; shall
apply for healing to the balm of Gilead and find a physician there.
But still it was the purpose-the decree of God, that this atonement should be actually applied to but a part-we believe ultimately a larrge part of the human family. By this we mean,
that it is in fact so applied, and that this fact is the expression of
the purpose or decree in God. So it is with all the objects we
have mentioned. Food is not given to all. Health is not the
inheritance of all. Liberty, peace, and wealth, are diffused unequally among men. We interpret the decrees of God, so far
as we can do it, by facts; and we say that the actual result, by
whatever means -brought about, is the expression of the desi,gn
of God. Nor can any man doubt, that the dissemination of
-these. blessings is to be traced to the ordering of God. Is it
owing to any act of man, that the bark of Peru was so long
unknown, or that the silver of Potosi slept for ages unseen by
any human eye? Is there not evidence, that it was according
to the good pleasure of the Giver, that the favour should not be
bestowed on men till Columbus crossed the main, and laid open
the treasures and the materia medica of the west, to an avaricious
and an afflicted world? We are here struck with another important analogy in the manner in which God's plans are developed. Who would have imagined that so important a matter
as the discovery of a new world, should have depended on the
false reasonings and fancy of an obscure Genoese? Who would
have thought that all the wealth of Potosi, should have depended
for its discovery, on so unimportant a circumstance, as an
Indian's pulling up a shrub by accident in hunting a deer?  So
in the redemption of man,-in the applicability of the atonement. Who is ignorant that the reformation originated in the
private thoughts of an obscure mari in a monastery. A Latin
Bible fallen on as accidentally, and a tredsure as much unknown,
as Itualpi's discovery of the mines of Potosi, led the way to the
most glorious series of evenits since the days of the apostles.
But it is still said, that it is unrireasonable for men to sztffer in
consequence of not'being put in possession of the universal
atonement; and that Christianity affirms there is no hope of
salvation but in the Son of God.*  So it does. But the affirma.
tion is not that men are guilty for not being acquainted with that
~ Acts iv. 12.




xliV               INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
scheme, but that they lie under the curses of the antecede7t staite
beforee mentioned, from  which Christianity came to deliver.
The Hindoo suffers and dies under the rage of a burning fever.
The fault is not that he is ignorant of the virtues of quinine, nor
Is he punished for this ignorance of its healing qualities; but he
is lying under the operation of the previous state of things, from
which medicine contemplates his rescue. Half' the world are
shut out from benefits, which  they might enjoy by being made
acquainted with the provisions for their help. Their sufferings
are not a punishmnent for this want of knowledge.. They are the
operation of the system from which they might be delivered by
the provisions made for their welfare: How much suffering
might have been saved, had Jenner lived a century earlier. Is
it contrary then to the analogy of nature, to suppose that men
may suffer in consequence of the want of the gospel, and even
that in eternity they may continue under the operation of that
previous state of things, to which the gospel has never been
applied to relieve them? iHe who opposes Christianity because
it implies that man may suffer if its healing balm is not applied,
Knows not what he says, nor whereof he affirms. He is scoffimg at the analogy of the world, and calling in question the wisdorn of all the provisions of God to aid suffering man.
3. On the ground of man's depravity, and of the necessity of
an atonement for sin, the gospel declares that without a change
of heart and life, none can be saved.* It affirms that contrition
for past sins, and confidence in the Son of God, are indispenisable
for admission to heaven. Now we scarce know of any point on
which men so reluctate as they do here. That so sudden, thorough, and permanent a revolution should be demanded, that is
should be founded on things so unmeaning as repentance and
faith, that all men cart enjoy or suffer for ever should result from
a change like this, they deem a violation of every principle of
justice. And yet, perhaps, there is no doctrine of revelation
which is more strongly favoured by the analogy of nature. Can
any one doubt that mien often experience a sudden and most
important revolution of feeling and purpose? We refer not here
to a change in religion, but in regard to the principles and the
actions of common life?  Who is ignorant that from infancy to
old age, the mind passes through many revolutions-that as we
leave the confines of one condition of our being. and advance to
another, a change an entire change, becomes indispensable, or
the whole possibility of benefitting ourselves by the new condition is lost. He who cariies with him into youth the playfulness and follies of childhood, who spends that season of his life
in building houses with cards, or in trundling a hoop, is characterized by weakness, and must lose all the benefits appropriate to
that new period of existence. He who goes into middle life
with a "bosomn that carries anger as. the flint bears fire"-who
has not suffered his passions to cool, and his mental frame to
become fixed in the compactness of mature aiid vigorous life
* John iii. 3, 5, 36. Mark xvi. 16.




INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS.                LV
gives a pledge that the bar, the bench, or the desk-the countingroom, the office, or the plough, have little demand for his services. and that his hopes will be for ever blasted. The truth is,
that at the beginning of each of-these periods, there was a
change demanded-that on that change depended all that followed in the next succeeding perhaps in:every succeeding period,
and that, when the change does not exist, the period is characterized by folly, indolence, ignominy, or vice.:The same remark
might be extended to old age, and to all the new circumstances
in which men may by placed. We ask, then, why some revolutions.similar in results- -we mean not in nature-should not take
place in reference to the passage from time to eternity?
But our argument is designed to bear on the great moral
change called regeneration. Now no fact, we think, is more
common, than that men often undergo a complete transformation
in their moral character. It would be difficult to meet,-in the
most casual and transitory manner, with any individual, who
could not remark that his own life had been the subject of many
similar revolutions, and that each change fixed the character of
the subsequent period of his existence. At one period he was
virtuous. Then\tenlptation crossed his path-and the description which we would have given of him yesterday, would by no
rmeans suit him to-day. Or at one time, he was profligate, profane, unprincipled. By some process, of which he could perhaps
scarce give an account, 1he became a different maii. It might
have been gradual-the result of long though t, —-of many resolutions, made and broken,'of many appeals, of mruc weeping,
and of many efforts to break' away from his companions. Now,
what it is important f6r us to remark is, that this chanczge has
given birth to a new course of life has initiated him into a new
companionship, and has itself fixed all the joys or sorrows of the
coming period   Such revolutions in character seem like the
journeyings of the Arabian, wandering, he knows scarcely whither, without compass, comfort, or food, till in his progress he
comes to a few spreading oases in the desert. His reaching this
paradise in the wide waste of sand, decides of course the nature
of his enjoyments till he has crossed it, and secures a release
from the perils of the burning desert. In human life, we have
often marked an ascent to some such spot of living- green: we
have3seen the profligate youth leaving the scene of dissipation,
and treading.with a light heart and quick step the path of virtue,
beside cool living streams and beneath refreshing bowers.
Christianity affirms that a similar change is indispensable before
nman can tread the broad and peaceful plains of the skies. And
it affirms that such a change will fix the condition of all that new
state of being,-or, in other words, will secure an eternal abode
beneath the trge of life, and fast by the river of GoD. We wait
to learn' that, in this, religion has made- any strange or unreasonable demand.
It is a further difficulty in Christianity, that it should make.s~h. amiazi.ng bliss -or wo depend t on things of apparently so




xlvi              INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
rittle consequence as repentance and faith. We shall not here
attempt to show the philosophy of this, or even to set up a vindication. We affirm'only that man's whole condition in this life.
often depends on changes as minute, apparently as unphilosophical, and as unimportant. What is seemingly of less conse.
quence in our view, when we tread the vale of years, than the
changcre from infancy to childhood-and again to boyhood-and
then even to manhood-a change from one uhimportant object to
another?  What is often apparently a matter of less magnitude
than for a young man to withdraw from some haunt of pleasure
-a thing requiring but little resolution, hut it may be stretching
in its results to all his coming life? A change of an opiniohn,
or a habit, or a companiQn, may be often a most unimportant
circumstance; and yet it may determine one's character for the
entire life. It is recorded of Paley, one of the acutest and most
powerful men of the Christian church, that he was, when in
college, idle, and a spendthrift. One morning a rich and dissipated fellow student came into his room with this singular
reproof. "Paley, I have been thinking what a fool you are. 1
have the means of dissipation, and can afford to be idle.  You
are poor and cannot afford it. I should make nothing if I were
to apply myself.  You are capable of rising to eminence,-and,
pressed with this truth, I have been kept awake during the whole
night, and have now come solemnly to admonish you." To this
singular admonition, and to the change consequent upon it
Paley owes his eminence, and the church- some of the ablest
defences of the truth of religion. Now who, beforehand, would
have thought of suspending the labours of such a man, perhaps
his eterial destiny, and so many of the proofs of Christianity, on
a change wrought in a manner so singular and surprising. If.
as no one can deny, man's doom in this life may depend on
revolutions of such a nature, we are ignorant of any reason why
the doom of another state may not gbe fixed by a similar law.
Perhaps the doctrine which has appeared to most infidels
entirely unmeaning and arbitrary, is that which demands faith
as the condition of salvation. Repentance is a doctrine of more
obvious fitness. But the demand of faith seems to be an arbitrary and unmeaning appointment. And yet we think it indu.
bitable, that on manfis belief depends his whole conduct and destiny in this life. What enterprise would have beer more
ulqNvise than that of Columbus, if he had not had a belief that by
stetchiuig along to the west, he might reach the Indies? What
ti)re foolish than the conduct of Tell, and Wallace, and Washington, if not sustained by a persuasion that their country mig.ht
be free? What more mad than the toils of the young man bending his powers to the acquisition: of learning, if he were not sustained by faith in some vet unpossessed honour.or emolument?
What more frantic than For the merchantto conmmit his treasurer
to the deep, if he did not believe that prosperous gales would rewaft the vessel, laden with riches, into port?  We might also
say thatfaith, or confidence in others is demanded in every enter.




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.               xlvii
prise that man ever undertook, and is the grand principle which
conducts it to a happy result. We need only ask what would be
the condition of a child, without faith or confidence in a parent;
of a pupil, without reliance on the abilities of his teacher; of a
subject, distrusting the sovereign; of a soldier, doubting the skill
or prowess of his commander; of a tradesman, with no reliance
on those whom he employs? What would be the condition of
commercial transactions, if there were no established confidence
between men of different nations? What the condition of arts,
and of arms, if this great pervading principle were at once cut
off? In all these instances, moreover,, this principle of faith is
the index and measure of the aid to be expected from others. Is
it any new principle that the child which has no confidence in a
father, usually fails of his favour; or that the pupil should fail
of benefit, if he doubts the qqalifications of his teacher?  And
would any single desolating blow so cripple all enterprises, and
carry such ruin into the political, the military, apd the commercial world, as to destroy the faith which one man reposes in
another? Is it then a strange and unknown doctrine, when religion says that the most important benefits are suspended on
faith? Is it any thing more than one instance of a general
principle, which confers peace and wealth on children; learning
on the scholar; suiccess on the tradesman; liberty o!! those who
struggle for it; and even laurels and crowns on those who pant
in the race for honour and in the conflicts of war. We do not
deem it strange, therefore, that God should have incorporated
faith into a scheme of religion; and proclaimed from pole to pole
that he who has no confidence in counsellors and guides, shall
be without the benefit of counsel and guidance; and that he who
has no confidence in the Son of God, shall be dissociated from
a11l the benefits of his atonement.
Let it be remembered, also, that the.faith which is demanded
in the business of life, is very often reposed in some persons
whom we have never seen. How few subjects of any empire
have ever seen the monarch by whom they are governed.-  Nay,
perhaps t'he man who holds our destiny in his hand may be on
tile other side of the globe. Under his charge may be the pro.
perty which we embarked on the bosom of the deep; or, it may
be, the son whom we have committed to him for instruction.
Mountains may rise, or oceans roll their billows for ever to
separate us; but the bonds of faith may be unsevered by the
coldest snows, unscathed by the most burning sun, and unbroken
amid all the rude heavings of ocean, apd the shocks of nations.
We ask, why may not a similar band stretch toward heaven, and
be fixed to the throne of the'Eternal King? Is it more absurd
that I should place my confidence in the unseen monarch of the,skies whom I have not seen, than that my neighbour should
place reliance on the king of the celestial empire, or of Britain,
or of HIawaii, ali-ke unseen by him?
But there is ain amazing stupidity among men on the subject
of religion, and it cannot be, we are told, that God should make




Xlviii              NTRODUCTORY ESSAV.
eternal life dependent on matters in which men feel so little
interest. We might reply to this, that it is not the fault of God
that men are so indifferent. He has done enouah to arouse them.
If the thunders of his law, the revelation of his love in redemp.
tion, and the announcement that there is a heaven and a hell,
are not adequate to arouse the faculties of man, we know not
what further could be demanded. God has no other system of
wrath to bear on human spirits; and heaven and hell imbosom
no other topics of appeal. But we reply further, that no fact is
moire familiar to'us than that all men's interests in life suffer for
want of sufficient solicitude concerning them, By mere heedlessness, a man may stumble down a precipice, —nor will the
severity of the fall be mitigated by any plea that he was thoughtless of his dancer. Thousands of estates have been wrecked by
want of timely attention. Character is often ruined, by want
of proper solicitude in selecting companions. Nay, the king of
terrors comes into our dwellings, perfectly unmoved by any
inquiry whether we were awaiting his approach or not; an(d
stands' over our beds, and wields his dart, and chills our lifeblood, with as much coolness and certainty, as if we were paymg the closest attention to the evidences of his approach. And
why should we expect that mere indifference, or want of anxiety,
should avert the consequences of crime in the eternal world?
It is also, we think, an undoubted doctrine of the Christian
scheme, that the great change required in man is the work of
God.*  And it is no small difficulty with the infidel, that so
important results are dependent on a change which owes its
existence to the will of a distant being. Yet we cannot be insensible to the fact that all our mercies hang on the will of this
great, invisible God. When we say that the salubrity-of the air,
the wholesomeness of water, the nutrition of plants, and the healing power of medicine, all owe their efficacy to his will, we are
stating a fact which physiology is at last coming to see and
acknowledge. At all events, man does not feel himself straitened in obligation or in effort by the fact that the success of his
exertions depends on causes unseen and unknown? All but
atheists acknowledge that health flows through the frame of
man' because God is its giver. Infancy puts on strength and
walks; childhood advances to youth;'man rises from a bed of
sickness; or fractured limbs again become compact, because God
sits in the heavens, and sends down his influence to rear, to
strengthen, and to heal. Yet, does any one hesitate to put forth
his energy for wealth, or his kindness to his children; to take
medicine, or to set a bone, because all these will be inefficacious
without the blessing of God? But in-all this He is as invisible,
and, for aught that Christianity teaches to the contrary, as truly
efficient, as in the work of saving men. And against all exertion in these matters, lie the same objections that are urged
against effects in religion.
* John i. 13; iln. 65 8; Rom. ix. 16, 18s; Eph. ii. 1; 1 Peter i. 3; 1 John
r. i; EPzeI. xi. t9; John vi. 44, 45.




1NTRODTUCTORY ESSAY.                 XiX
Nor do we deem the doctrine that man may be changed suddenly, and by an influence oricrinating from some other source than
his own mind, at variance with the analogy of nature. We have
already spoken of the fact, that sudden changes often take place
in the minds of men; and that it is a doctrine of the Scriptures,
that such a changre is indispensable to an admission into heaven.
Wre nrov proceed to remark, that such revolutions often bear the
nmarks of being brought abiut by an external, and often an invisible, agency; and that there are revolutions where it is not
unphilosophical to ascribe them to the great and eternal Being
in the heavens. Changes of opinion are almost uniformly the
result of an influence fJrei,)gn at first to our minds. It is the
parent, the friend, the advocate, the flatterer, or the infidel, that
has suglcesled thie train' of th-ought which results in an entire
revolution in our ways of thinking. It is some external change
in our business; some success or disappointment; some cutting
oSffour hopes by an agency not our own; or some sudden enlarge.
ment of tire opportunities for successful effort that fixes the pur-.
pose and revolutiohizes the principles or the life. Or it is a voice'rorn the tomb-the remernbered sentiment of -the now speech.
less dead, that arrests the attention and transforms the character'
Zeno and Epicurus have thus spoken to thousands -of men inr
every age.  Cicero in the forum. and Plato in the schools, still
put forth an influence, stretching down from age to age, and in
tongues unspokelt by them  and unknown. Voltaire and Hume
stillf lift their voices, and urge the young to deeds of shame and
crirme, and Volney and Paine still mutter from their graves, and
beckon the world to atheism and pollution. Man may send an
influence round thle globe, and command it to go frson age to
age. Now, in all these instances, the influence is as forei7gn and
as ccrtazn as in any power of God contemplated in revelation. To
our view, it is quite as objectionable, as a part of moral governrnent, that men should tihus disp-ose each other to evil, and ultimate-ly to ruin, as that GoD shoultd incline them to an amendment
~of character, and a deliverance from the "ills which flesh is
b;heir to."
But how is man's freedom  affected by all this'?  We reply,
equally in both cases, and not at all in either. Whoever felt, that
he wars fettered in deriving notions of stern virtue fron Seneca,
or of profligacy from Epicurus? Who dreams there is any comrn
pulsatory process in listening to the voice of Hume, or imbibing
the sentiments of Volney?  Peter the iermit poured the thou.
sands of Eurone, and almost emptied kingdoms caparisoned for
tattle, on the plains of Asia. But he moved none against their
will. Patrick Henry struck the notes of- freedom,, and a nation
responded, and were changed from subjects of a British king to
independent freemen; but all were free in renouncing the protection of the British crown, and their reverence for a British
ruler. God influences countless hosts, pours upon darkened
minds the love of more than mortal freedom, opens upon the
souls the " magnificence -of eternity," and the renewed multitude
ti




!                   I~INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.,
tread the path to lifei. Prompted to intense efforts by tne voice
that calls to heaven-as he is who is led by the voice of his
country to the field of blood, and who is changed from the peaceful ploughman to the soldier treading in the gore of the slainthey dream not that there is any violation of their moral freedom.
In all these cases the foreign influence exerted, (from whatever
quarter it may have come,) has only convinced them as to the
path of duty or of honour, and secured a conformity of their wills,
to that of the unseen and foreign power.
Nor does it alter the case, that in regeneration a higher influence is exerted than that of mere moral suasion, since that influence operates in perfect conformity with the laws of moral action
and the freedom of the will. In all the cases supposed, the mind
acts equally under the impulse of a foreign, unseen influence;
and in all these cases we know, by the testimony -of consciousness, that we are equally free.  Any objection, therefore,
against the existence of such an influence in regeneration, lies
with equal force against the analogy of nature, in the who!e
world of mind around us.
4. Religion affirms. that God exerts the power which he puts
forth, int pursuance of a plan, or purpose, definitely fixed before
the foundation of the world. It affirms in as intelligible a form
as any doctrine was ever expressed in any of the languages of
men, that in regard to the putting forth of his power in savingl
sinners, there is no chance, no haphazard; that the scheme la1
before his eyes fully; and that his acts are only the filling Dun of
the p)lan, and were contemplated, distinctly, when God dwelt
alone, in the stillness and solitude of his own eternity.' If such
a doctrine is not revealed, we think it impossible that it could be
revealed in any language. And we know of no single doctrine
that has been more universally conceded by infidels to be in the
scriptures; none in the Bible that has been so often brought forward among their alleged reasons for rejecting it as a revelation;
none that has so frequently crossed the path of wicked men and
revealed the secret rebellion of their hearts; none that has called
forth so much misplaced ingenuity from  Socinians and Arminians, and timid men who were afraid to trust the government
of the world in the hands of its maker, as if he were not qualified
for universal empire; and none, therefore, which has in our view
such primna facie proof that it is manifestly a doctrine of truth and
excellence. But the outcry, it seems to us, against this doctrine,
has been altogether gratuitous and unwise.  For who is a
stranger to the fact, that, from infancy to old age, we are more
or less influenced by the plans or purposes of others?  The plan
or purpose of a parent may determine almost every thing about
the destiny of a child. The purpose to remove from:regions of
pestilence and malaria, may secure his health; the change from
one clime to another may determine the liberty he shall enjoy
the measure of his intelligence, the profession he shall choose,
~? Eph. i. 4, 5. Rom. viii. 29, 30; ix. 15, 16, 18, 21. John xvii. 2.
2Thess ii. 13. Johi,.  -—.-2. 2TiZ.' 9.




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY,                   H1
and ultimately his doom here and hereafter. Nay, the parent's
vlan may fix the very college where he shall study; the companions he shall choose; the law office, or the seminary where
le shall prepare for professional life; and finally every -thing
which may establish his son in the world. So the plan of the
infidel is successful in corrupting thousands of the young; —the
purpose of Howard secured the welfare of thousands of prisoners;
the determination of Washington resulted in the independence of
his country. In all these, and ten thousand other cases there is
a plan formed by other beings in respect to ius which finally enters
as a controlling element into our destiny. If it be said, that they
all leave us free; so we say of the decrees of God, that we have
a like consciousness of freedom. In neither case does theforeign
purpose cripple or destroy our freedom. In neither case does it
make any difference whether the plan was formed an hour before
the act, or has stood fixed for ages. All that could bear on our
freedom would be the fact, that the purpose was previous to the
deed-a circumstance that does not alter the act itself, whether
the decree be formed by ourselves, by other men, or by God.
But we remark further, that it is perfectly idle to object to the
fact, that a plan or decree is contemplated in revelation; and that
God should confer benefits on some individuals which are withheld from others. Did any man, in his senses, ever dream that
the race are in all respects on an equality? Has there ever been
*a time, when one man has had just as much health as another;
when one has been as rich as another, or as much honoured? To
talk of the perfect equality of men, is one of the most unmeaning
of all affirmations respecting the world.- God has mnade differences, is still making them, and will continue to do so. The very
frame work of society is organized on such a principle, that men
cannot be all equal. Even if the scheme of modern infidelity
should be successful-if all society should be broken up; and all
property be meted out in specific dollars and cents to the idle and
the industrious alike; and every man should lose his interest in his
own wife and daughter, and they should become the common
inheritance of the world. and all law should be at an end-if this
scheme should go into disastrous accomplishment, what principle of perpetuity could there be devised?.Who knows not that
such a chaotic mass would settle down into some kind of order,
and men be put in possession again of property, and some of the
benefits. of social life be again restored?  Man might better
attempt to make all trees alike, and all hills'plains, and all foun.
tains of the same dimensions, than to attempt to level society,
and bring the race into entire equality. To the end of time it
will be true that some will be poor while others are rich; that
some will be sick while others are well; that some will be endowed with gigantic intellects, and enriched with ancient and
modern learning, while others will pine in want, or walk the
humble, but not ignoble vale of obscurity.
Now we might as well object to this fixed economy of things
as to that which affirms that' God dispenses the blessing~ 9f




1ii               INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
redemption according to his good pleasure. If God may confer
one blessing on one individual which he withholds from another
we ask why he may not be a sovereign also in the dispensation
of other favours?'We ask what principle of justice and goodness is violated, if he imparts penitence and faithto one individual, that is not violated also if he gives him health while
another pines in sickness.? We ask with emphasis, where is
there more of partiality in giving the Christian's hope to Brai:'
nerd or Martyn, than there is in giving great talents to Newton
or great wealth to Croesus? And we put it to the sober thoughts
of those who are so fond of representing the doctrine that God
bestows special grace on one and not on another, as unjust,
tyrannical, and malignant, whether they are not lifting their voice'
against the manifest analogy of nature, and all the facts in the
moral and material world? We ask such a man to tread the
silent streets of one city where the pestilence spreads its desolations, and then another filled with the din of business, and flushed
with health and gain-to go through one land and see the fields,smile with golden grain, and rich with the vine and the orange,
or fragrant with aromatics, and then through another where the
heavens are brass, and the earth dust, and every green thing
withers, and every man weeps while the horrors of famine stare
him in the face; to ago amidst one people and hear the clangor
of arms, or another and see the squalidness of poverty, or another
and see every river studded with villages, and every village
pointing its spire to heaven, and universal peace in all its borders,;ind education diffusing its blessings there-such observers we
ask to tell uis whether the destiny of all men is equal, and why in
religion God n may not do as he does in respect to health, to freedom, and to law'?
We go further. We affirm, that unless this doctrine of election were found in the scriptures, the scheme would be taken out
from all the analogy of the world. No man could recogrnise a
feature of the plan on which God actually governs the universe,
unless he found there the distinct affirmation that God had
chosen us in Christ before the foundation of the world, and that
it is " not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of
God that showeth mercy." The system of conferring favours as
he pleases; of giving wealth, and vigour and talent, and success,
is so much a matter of sovereignty, and the secret, who shall
possess these endowments, is so completely lodged in his bosom
that any scheme to be conformed to the constitution and course
of nature, must recognise this great principle, or we are shut up
to the alternative, that the present doings of God are wrong, or
the constitution of nature one of decisive evil. To us it seems,
therefore, that they strike a blow of no ordinary violence and'
boldness, who denounce the purposes of God in the -Bible as
dark, partial, and malignant. Nor can we conceive a more rude
assault on the whole frame-work of things, than the popular
scheme which denies that God has any purposes of special'nercy; and that he confers any spiritual blessings on one which




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.                liii
he does not on all,-or, in other words, which attempts to separate the scheme of redemption from the whole analogy of things
actually carried on in.the world.
But on this point the entire movement of the world bears the
marks of being conducted according to a plan. We defy a man
to lay his finger on a fact, which has not such a relation to other
facts as to show that it is part of a scheme-and if of a scheme,
hen of apurposeformed beforehand. Alexander the Great, in the
vigour of life, and in the full career of conquest, was cut off lby
the act of God. Julian the apostate, in the same regions found
also an early death; and gigantic plans were arrested by the hand
of God with reference to other great purposes in the liberty or
religion of man. Napoleon met the mighty arm of God in the
snows of the north, and the monarch fell —and with.him fell the
last purpose of his life. In the midst of daring schemes, man
often falls. God wields the dart to strike in an unusual manner,
and the victim dies. He falls in with the great plans of the
Deity, meets snvows, or lightnings, or burning heats, or piercing
colds that come round by the direction of the governor of the
world, and the man sinks, and his plans give way to the higher
purposes of the Almighty.
Now we know, that at any particular stage of this process we
could not discover that'there was a plan or a scheme. And we
know also that all the objections to such a scheme, result from
looking at single portions of.the plan,-parts dissociated from the
whole. In this World wxe think there is this universal principle
to be discovered;, APPARENT IRREGULARITY; RESULTING IN ULTIMATE ORDER. During any one of the six days of creation we
should scarcely have seen even the outlines of the world that ultimately started up. Fix the eye on any single hour of the state
of the embrro, the egg, or the chrysalis, and who would suppose
there was any plan or purpose with reference to the man of godlike form and intelligence; or the beauty of the peacock, the speed
of the ostrich, the plaintive melody of the nightingale, or the
gay colours of the butterfly? We might illustrate this fully by
a reference to the process of digestion. Who would suppose
from the formation of the chyle, that there was any thing like a
plan laid to supply a red fluid, or to give vigour to sinews, or
firmness to the bones? So in all the works of God. We are
not surprised that unthinking men have doubted, whether God
had a plan or decree. So unlike the termination is the actual
process, and so little apparent reference is there to such a tero
mination,-that we are not amazed that men start back at the
annunciation of a decree. The truth is, that God has laid the
process of his plan and decrees much deeper than his coihmon
acts. They require more patient thought to trace them-they
are more remote and abstruse-and they cannot be seen, without embracing at once the commencement and termination, and
the vast array of improbable media by which the result is to be
secured. Yet to deny that God has a plan; that his plan may
be expressed by the word purpos.e or decree, is as absurd as to
6*




Jliv               INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
deny that the embryo is formed with reference to the future man,
or the chyle to future blood, muscles, al:d bones. Who in look.
ing upon a complicated piece of machinery would suppose that
a plan was in operation tending to the manufacture of cloth, ot
the propelling of vessels, or the minuter works of art?  What
strikes the eye, is a collection of wheels moving without appaYent order. Two wheels shall be beside each other moving in
contrary directions; yet all shall ultimately combine to the production of the contemplated result. Thus move the events of
the world; and so apparently irregular and unharmonious, but
ultimately fixed and grand are the ways of God._ As in a rapid,
swollen stream, while the current rolls onward, here and there
may be observed in -the heaving waters, a small portion that
seems to be setting in a contrary direction-an eddy that
revolves near the shore, or'that fills the. vacancy made by some
projecting tree or neck of land, yet all setting towards the ocean;
so roll on the great events in Gbod's moral and material universe
-setting onwards towards eternity in furtherance of a plan'
awful, grand, benevolent.
We had intended to have noticed more fully the grand, peculiar
doctrine of the gospel-the Trinity. But we have room only to say,
that if, in the formation of man-in the structure of his mental
and corporeal powers, and in their junction-if, in a being so constantly befobre our eyes, subjected, without material change, froni
age to agej to observation,-to the penetration of the most keensighted physiologists; open to every analysis which the metaphy.
sician or the anatomist may choose to make; if;, in the organization of such a being, there are mysteries which elude every
eye, and mock every attempt at reconciliation, we do not think
that religion is dealing out absurdities, when it tells of analogous
depths in the unseen, inapproachable, and infinite God. Let the
union of the soul and body be explained-the junction of a substance, ponderable, mortal, inactive, corruptible, and thoughtless, with one where there is nothing but thoughtal an invisible. imponderable, intelligible, incorruptible, and unmeasurable
substance, having relation neithel to sight, nor hearing, nor
feeling, nor that we know of to place,-and yet taking hold
by some invisible fixtures to the heavy organization, and directing all its movements, and receiving its own emotions from the
variations of the outward tenement: let all this be explained,
and we think we shall be ready to advance. with the explanation
to any difficulty of structure in the divine mind. Nay, further,
when we look at the animal frame itself, we are met with difficulties of a kindred nature, which set all our faculties at defiance.
There is a system of bones —complete in itself-an entire anato.
mical figure, which may be taken out and completed by itselfthere is a system of arteries complete; and as capab&e'of distinct
contemplation;-there is the counterpart, an entire structure of
arteries reversed, comprising the venous system; there is an
almost independant organization of nerves, which, but for their
frail texture, could be taken. out, looked at- also apart  and there




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.       1'
is, an absolute set of' muscles which could be set up by themselves,
and separately surveyed,-and yet these different systems are
driven together into the most compact form; made to unite as
friendly brethren, and cemented and bound, so as to make up the
frame-work of man. Noow, we affirm, that if these different in.
dependent systems are thus made to dwell in a single frame;if we have no conception of a man without all this complication,
and scarcely with it, that a revelation could be scarcely credible,
unless there were some analogous difficulties ir. the being of a
God. In his mysteries, man is the image of GGd, not less than
in his dominion, and in the original moral image which he bore.
A large field is still open on which we can make but a passing
remark —we nlean the analogy of the laws of Christianity to those
suggested by.the constitution and course of nature. If our re
marks have been correct, then it is fair to expect that religion
would reveal such a set of laws as should be in accordance with
the course of nature-that is, such as the actual order of events
should show to be conducive to the true interest and welfare of
man. We think it could be shown that the actual process of
things, has conducted mankind, after the shedding of much blood,
and after many toils of statesmen and sages, to just the set of
rules which' are found for human conduct in the Old and New
Testaments. And it would be no uninteresting speculation to
inquire into the changes in opinions and. laws suggested by the
history of events among nations-to see how one set of enactmlents struck out by the toils of some philosopher, and applied by
some moralist or statesman, were persevered in until set aside
by some opposing event in the government of God, and exchanged
for a better system, for one more in accordance with the course
of nature-until the revolutions of centuries, have brought men
to the very laws of the scriptures, and the profoundest wisdomn
has been ascertained to be, to sit at the feet of Jesus of Nazareth
and receive the law from-his lips. We might remark on the law
of theft in Lacedaemon; on the views in relation to rapine and
war; on the seclusion from the world which guided the Essene
of Judea, and the monk of the early and middle ages; on the
indulgence of passion, recommended by the Epicureans; on the
annihilation of sensibility, the secret of happiness, among the
Stoics; on the law of universal selfishness, the panacea of all
numan ills recommended by infidelity; and on the laws of
honour that have guided so many men to fields of disgrace and
blood, and filled so many dxrellings with weeping. In all the
different codes, we think we could show that the course of nature
has ultimately driven men from one set of laws to another, from
one experiment to another, until every scheme terminated in its
abandonment, or in shaping itself to the peculiar laws of the
Bible. But on this point, which is capable of very ample illustration, we can do no more than simply point out the principle,
in the words of a distinguished writer of our own country.* We
make one extract from a sermon of high originality of thought.
* President Wayland.




lNTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
power of argnument, and beauty of diction, entitled " The certam
triumph of the Redeemer."
"The laws of matter Are few and comparatively simple, but
those relations are multiplied even to infinity. The law of gravitation may be easily explained to an ordinary man, or even to
an intelli.gent child. But who can trace one half of its relations
to things solid and fluid, things ainimate and inanimate, the very
form, of' society itself, to this system, other systems, in fine, to
the -mighty masses of the material universeS? The mind delights
to carry out such a principle to its ramified illustrations, and
hence it cherishes as its peculiar treasure, a knowledge of the
principles themselves. Thus was it that the discovery of such
a law gave the name of Newton to immortality, reduced to harmony the once apparently discordant movements of our planetary
system, taught us to predict the events of coming ages, and to
explain what was before hidden from:the foundation of the world.'" Now he who will take the trouble to examine, will perceive
in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, a system of ultimate truths in
morals in a very striking manner an.alagous to these elementary
laws in physics.  In themselves they are few, simple, and
easily understood. Their relations, however,, as in the other
case, are infinite. The moral principle by which you can easily
teach your child to regulate her conduct in the nursery, will furnish matter for the conrtemplation of statesmen and sages. It
is the only principle on which the decisions of cabinets and
courts can be founded, and is, of itself, sufficient to guide the
diplomr,atist through all the mazes of the most intricate ngegociation. Let any one 1who pleases make the experiment for him.
self. Let him take one of the rules of human conduct which tha
gospel prescribes, and, having obtained a clear conception. of it,
just as it is revealed:, let  him carry it out in its unshrinking
application to the doings and dealings of men. At first, if he be
not accustomed to generalizations of this sort, he will find much
that will- stagger him, and perhaps he will he led hastily to
decide that the ethics of the Bible were never intended for practice. But let him look a little longer, and meditate a little more
intensely, and expand his views a little more widely, or become,
either by experience or by years, a little older, and he will more and
more wonder at the profoundness of wisdom., and the universality
of application of the principles of the gospel. With the most
expanded views of society, he can go nowhere where the Bible
has not been before himl. With the most penetrating sagacity
he can make no discovery which the Bible has not long ago proc
mulgated. IIe will find neither application which the Bible did
not foresee, nor exception against which it has not guarded. He
will at last sink down. in humble adoration of the wisdom of
Jesus of Nazareth, convinced that he is the wisest man, as well
as the profoundest philosopher, who yields himself up in meekness and simplicity of spirit to the teachings of the Saviour.
Hence, there is the same sort of reason to believe that the precepts of the Bible will be read, and studied, and obeyed, as there




INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.                lvii
is to believe that the system of Newton will finally prevail, and
eventually banish from the languages of men the astronomical
dreams of Vishnu and Pandama."
We now take our leave of the Analogy of Butler. We have
endeavoured to state the nature of the argument on which, it
tests. We would say, in conclusion, that it is one of easy and'
universal application. We know of no argument that is so
potent to still the voice of unbelief in the heart —to silence every
objection to all the doctrines of Christianity-or to subdue the
soul, to an humble, reverential belief, that the God of creation is
the God of redemption; and that he who clothes the sunbeam
with light, and the flower with its beauty, is the same all-present
being, that goes forth to the grander work of delivering the soul
from sin. As God will continue the process of his government,
as he will make the genial shower to rise and fertilize the earth,
as he will clothe the hills and vales with verdure and beauty, despite of all the blasphemies of men; as he will cause new flowers
to spring forth, however many the foot of hard-hearted man may
crush, and as he will cause the glory of the material system to roll
on from age to age, in.spite of all the opposition and malice of
devils and of men, so, we believe, he will also cause this more glorious system to ride triumphantly through the earth, and to shed its
blessings on all the -nations of the world'. Man can triumph over
neither. They are based on the solid rock. -The plans of men
reach them not. Parallel systems of providence and redemption,
liable to the samne objections, and presenting the same beauties,
testify that they have come from the same God, and are tending
to the same high developement.
We are of the number of those who do not shrink from avowing the opinion that the system of Christianity, as it has been
held in the world, is capable of progressive improvements in the
mode of its exhibition. This system, in the mind 6f the Son of
God, was complete, and was so given to mankind: But we think
that the world has not yret availed itself fully of the scheme.
No earthly being ever yet so well understoodlthe laws of the
amind, as the Son of God; and the system, as held by him, was
adapted to the true nature of created. spirits, and to the regular
course'of things. But Christianity has often been attached to
schemes of mental and moral philosophy as remote from the true
one as "from the centre thrice to the utmost pole." Now, the
improvement which-we anticipate is, that men will consent to
lay aside their systems of mental science; and with them much
also of the technicalities of their theology-and suffer religion to
speak in the words expressive of what Locke calls " large roundabout sense," that they will be willing to inquire first what, philosophy religion teaches, and then ask, if th:ey choose, whether
that philosophy is to be found in the schools.  Could all the
vbstructions in the way of correct mental philosophy and natural
science, be at-once removed, we have no doubt that the Christian
system would be seen to fall at once into the scheme of material
and mental things Now this is the kind of improvement which




0vir,              INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
We expect will take place in theology. An analogy could never
be established between theology, as it has been held, and the
common course of events. Religion, as it has been often pre.
sented, has been unlike all other things-so cold, distant, unliving,
and formal, that we wonder not that men, who have had tolerably correct notions of the laws of the mind and of facts, should
have shrunk from it; nor do we e wonder that the preaching of
no small number of ministers should have been fitted to make
men Arminians, Socinians, or deists.
We have sat down in pensive grief, when we heard from the
lips of tyros in divinity, (as the first message which they bring
us,) solemn and unmeasured denunciations of reason in matters
of religion. We have asked ourselves whence the herald has
derived his commission to commence an assault on what has
been implanted in the bosom of man by the hand of the Al.
mighty?  Has the book which he holds in his hands told him to
utter unfeeling and proscriptive maledictions on all just views
of mental operations? Has God commissioned him to summon
the world to a rejection of all the lessons taught by the investigations of the mind; the decisions of conscience, and the course
of events? Is the God who has hitherto been thought to be the
God of creation and providence, coming forth, in the old age and
decrepitude of the world, to declare that the fundamental princi
ples of civil society, the judicial inflictions of his hand, the lessons taught us in parental and filial intercourse, and in the reasonings of sober men with the eye upturned to heaven, have all
been delusive; and that the new revelation is to set at defiance
all that has been ascertained to be law, and all that the world has
supposed to be just maxims in morals? We marvel not that
thinking men shrink from such sweeping denunciations. Nor
do we wonder that the ministry is often despised, the sanctuary
forsaken, and the day-dreams of any errorist adopted, who professes to give them proper place to the inferences drawn from
the government of God.
It is a maxim, we think, which should rule in the hearts of
Christian men, and
"Most of all in man that ministers,
And serves the altar,"
that file world is to he convinced that Christ?,ans are not of neces
sity fools. And in doing this, we care not-how much of sound
reason, and true philosophy, and the analogies of nature, are
brought into the sacred desk. The truth is, that religion sets up
its jurisdiction over all the operations of the mind. And the
truth is, also, that those who have done most to vilify and abuse
the use of reason, have been the very men who have incorporated
the most of false philosophy into their own systems of divinity.
It is not td be concealed, that the most ardent desire of the enemies of religion is that its ministers and friends, should deal oul
fierce denunciations against reason, and set up the system of
Christianity as something holding in fixed defiance all the disco



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.                 lix
veries of knowledge and all the schemes of philosophy. More
than half the work of atheism is done, if the world can be per.
suaded that Christianity contemplates the surrender of the
deductions of reason and the course of the world into the hands
of infidel philosophers; nor do we know a more successful arti.
fice of the enemy of man than the schemes which have been
devised to effect such a disjunction, and to set up the Christian
plan as something that stands in irreconcilable opposition to the
course of nature, and the just process of thought.
But, if the view which we have taken of this matter is correct,
then all the works of God, far as the eye can reach, and far on
beyond, are in strict accordance with the Christian scheme.
One set of laws rules the whole; one set of principles reigns
every where; oje grand system of administration is going forward. Apparent differences between the Christian scheme and
the course of events are daily becoming rarer, and soon the
whole will be seen to harmonize. The laws of mental action
are becoming better understood; and are found to coincide more
and more with the plain, unperverted declarations of the Bible.
The laws of nations are growing more mild, tender, bloodless,
and forbearing. The great principles of morals are laying aside
the ferocity of the darker ages, disrobing themselves of the principles of the Goth and the Vandal, and returning more and more
to the simplicity of primeval life-to the principles of Abraham,
" that beauteous model of an eastern prince, of David the warrior poet, of Daniel the far-sighted premier, of Paul the mild yet
indomitable apostle, and of Jesus the meek Son of God."
We anticipate that the order of events, and the deductions of
reason, and the decisions Af the gospel, will yet be found completely to tally: so that Christianity shall come armed with the
double power of having been sustained by miracles when first
promulgated and when appearing improbable, and of falling in
at last with all the proper feelings and just views of the world.
As one evidence that the world is hasting to such a juncture we
remark that the views entertained of moral character have undergone already a transformation.  "What mother would now
train her sons after the example of Achilles, and Hector, and
Agamemnon, and Ulysses?" Other models, more like the Son
of God, are placed before the infant mind. Society, in its vast
revolutions, has brought itself into accordance, in this respect,
with the New Testament. And we cannot but doubt that,
though the affairs of the church and the world may yet flow on
in somewhat distinct channels,.yet they will finally sink into
complete and perfect harmony; like two streams rising in distant hills, and rendering fertile different vales, yet at last flowing
into the bosom of the same placid and beautiful ocean. Men
will go on to make experiments in geology, and chymistry, and
philosophy, in order to oppose the Bible, till scheme after scheme
shall be abandoned. They will frame theories of mental science
until they arrive at the scheme of the New Testament. They
will devise modes of alleviating misery, until they fall on the




it                INTRODUCTOPR ESSAY,
very plan suggested more than two thousand years nefore ther,
And they will form and abandon codes of morals, until they shall
come at last in their international and private affairs, to the
moral maxims of the New Testament —and the world shall
arrive at the conclusion that the highest wisdom is to set down
like children at the feet of the Soil of God.
And we may perhaps be permitted here to suggest that Chi is
tianity contains a provision for a perpetuity of prcof that it is
from God. We think it is idle to doubt that the evidence from
miracles is more feeble now than it was when the proofs of the
resurrection of Jesus were poured with such resistless might cn
the Roman empire. We mean that a missionary nowa, with all
the zeal of martyrdom, has not with him the resistlessness of
evidence for an ancient, which the apostles had for a contempao
raneous fact. It is more difficult for us to prove the existen ce
of Alexander of Macedon than it could have been for Tacitus or
Cicero. But we ask why miracles were necessary at all? It
was simply because the analogy of the new  lcheme to the course
of nature was not obvious and commanding.  There appeared to
be an irreconcilable difference. Opinions, practices, systems,
not fplly tried and abandoned, opposed it. It was necessary to
beat down their opposition by some signal display of' infinite
power. It was done.  And not a system stood before the mira
culous scheme. But as these schemes give way-as they are
found to be useless and are abandoned-as society converges
more and more to the simplicity in the New Testament, and as
therefore religion commends itself to the understandings of men,
and falls in with the true analogies of things, there is provision for
the increasing feebleness of the evidence from miracles-and in
other ages all the evidence that shall be needed of its truth, may
be the simple parallelism between this and all the works and
plan of God. If the comparison may not seem far drawn, the
strength of the evidence arising from the junction of the system
of nature and of grace, may be illustrated by the intense heat of
the Compound blow-pipe-the blazing and resistless energy produced by the proper union of two independent elements1 bearing
on a single point.
And here we conclude by saying that the men who promulgated this system were Galilean peasants and fishermen. They
had indubitably, little learning. They were strangers to the doctrines of the schools, to ancient and modern science, to the works
of nature and of art. No infidel can prove that they knew more
than the science necessary for the skilful management of a fishing boat, or the collection of taxes. And yet they have'devised
the only scheme which turns out to be in accordance  rith the
course of nature; a scheme which has survived the extinctibn
of most others prevalent in their day, a system in advance still,- -
no one can tell how muclh,-even of our own age. Now it is a
well-known fact that, in the progress of discovery hitherto, no
man has gone much in advance of his own generat;on. Society
and science work themselves into a state for the discoveries




nMTROIUCTORY ESSAY.                  ldi
which actually take place, and hence it happens that, about the
same timne, the same invention is often made on both sides of
the globe. A controversy still exists respecting the discovery of
the art of printing, and gunpowder, the application of steam, the
invention of the quadrant, and many of the improvements in
chymistry. We ask then, how it has happened that these Galileans stepped over all the science of their own. age, established a
system in strict accordance with the course of nature, disclosed
elementary principles of morals entirely unknown to the philosophy of that age, and arrived at, in the history of man, only by
long and painful experiments of many thousand years?  Why,
let the sceptic tell us, has not science struck out principle after
principle, that could long since have been organized into a sys,
tem which should accord with the constitution and course of
nature?  To our minds, the greatest of all miracles would be,
that unaided and uninspired fishermen should have projected
stuch a scheme of Christianity.
Revealed religion, then, is in accordance with the course of
nature. To reason against or reject it, on the principles commonly adopted by infidels, is to call in question the whole system
of things around us. Nor will it answer any valuable purpose
to laugh or mock at it. " There is argument neither in drollery
nor in jibe,"  If, in spite of this striking accordance with the
course of nature, it can be provel false, let the evidence be fairly
brought forward. Let its miracles be set aside. Let its prophecies be shown not to have been uttered. And then let it be
shown how it is that such a system has originated from such a
source; a system which has bowed the intellects of such men
as Bacon and Locke and Boyle and Hale and Boerhaave, anat
Newton and Edwards and Dwight. But if the demonstration
cannot be made out,-if a single doubt remains, it will not do to
deride this religion. It will no more do to meet the announcement of hell with a jeer, than to stand and mock at convulsions,
fevers, and groans; —nor should men laugh at the judgment1 any
more than at the still tread of the pestilence, or the heavings of
the earthquake;-nor will it be at all more the dictate of wisdom to contemn the provisions of redemption than to mock the
pitying eye of a father, or to meet with contempt the pensive
sigh of a mother over our sufferings, or to jeer at the physician
whe comes reverently, if it may be, to put back from us the
heavy-pressing hand of God.








PREFACE
SAMUEL HALIFAX, D.D.,
LATE  LORD  BISHOP OF GLOUCESTER.
[The following prefatory analysis of Btitler's Moral and Religious
Systerms, and of his method of applying reasonin gs drawn from Analogy
to the Subject of Natural and Revealed Religion, deserves the marked
%ttention of the student.]
IN some editions, this preface is preceded by a few pages,
designed to shield Bishop Butler's character against the
charge of superstition; placing too much stress on rites and
ceremonies in religion: a tendency to substitute penances
and forms in the room of Christianity.  We have omitted
these pages as they are in no way connected with this work,
and add nothing to its interest or value. There seems, how.
ever, to have been no just grounds for such a calumny.
Bishop Butler, like many good men of the present age, was
deeply affected by the glowing indifference of the mass of the
people to religious duties and observances;, and in his primary charge to the Clergy of his Dioese in 1751, he boldly
asserted the usefulness of forms and rites addressed to the
senses as aids to devotion and piety: a charge, which, at the
time; gave very general offence to the Church, and which,
taken in connection with some other facts in the history of
this good man's lifbe formed the stuff, out of which the allegations, we have referred to, were manufactured several
years after his death.
It is painful to think so little of the moral and religious
workings of the mind of this great man is known.  We
would gladly know something definitely of his intellectual
and spiritual life, during the twenty years of study and preparation devoted to the composition of The Analogy; from
the first rude conception of the work, until it came forth from
his hands, like the statue from the mallet and-chisel of the
sculptor finished, ad ungem.  Every sentence, it is said, has




been fashioned and moulded into the present form by repeated
re-writing and condensation. And we can easily believe its
for the words are laid together in many sentences so closely
and skilfully, that' one more, or one less, would destroy the
unity and meaning of the whole.
The literary reputation of Bishop Butler, however, is in
truth the least of his exceilenbies, He was more than a
good writer: he was a good man; and what is an addition
even to this eulogy, he was a since're Christian.  His whole
study was directed to the knowledge and practice of sound
morality and true religion; these he adorned by his life, and
has recommended to future ages in his writings; in which,
if my judgment be of any avail, he has doneaessential service
to both, as much, perhaps, as any single person, since the
extraordinary gifts of " the word of' wisdom and the wordl
of knowledge"* have been withdrawn,
In what follows I propose to give a snort account of the
Bishop's moral and religious systems, as these are collected
from his works.
I.  His way of treating the subject of morals is to be
gathered from the volume of his Sermons, and particularly
from the three first, and fromn the preface to that volume.
", There is," as our author with singular sagacity has observed, " a much more exact correspondence between the
natural and moral world, than we are apt to take notice of."t
The inward frame of man answers to his outward condition;
the several propensities, passions, and affections, implanted
in our hearts by the Author of nature, are in a particular
manner adapted to the circumstanbes of life in which he
hath placed us. This general observation, properly pursued,
leads to several important conclusions.  The original inter.
nal constitution of man, compared with his external condition, enables us to discern what course of action and behavior that constitution leads to, what is our duty respect.
ing that condition, and furnishes us besides with the most
powerful arguments to the practice of it.
What the inward frame and constitution of man is, is a
question of fact; to be determined, as other facts are, fiom
experience, from our internal feelings and external senses
Is cor. X. _!!                         t Sero. vi.




BY TRHE EjITOh.                  3
and from the testimony of others.;Whether human nature,
and the circumstances in which it is placed, might not have
been ordered otherwise, is foreign to our inquiry, and noohe
of our concern. Our province is, taking both of these as
they are, and viewing the connexion between them, from
that connexion to discover, if we can, what course of action
is fitted to that nature and those circumstances.  From contelnplating the bodily senses, and the organs or instruments
adapted to them, we learn that the eye was given to see
with, the ear to hear with. In like manner, fromn considering our inward perceptions and the final causes of them, we
collect that the feeling of shame, for instance, was given to
prevent the doing of things shameful; compassion, to carry
us to relieve'others in distress; anger, to resist sudLden violence offered to ourselves.  If, continuing our inquiries in
this way, it should at length appear, that the nature, the
whole nature of man leads him to, and is fitted for, that particular course of behaviour which we generally distinguished by the name of virtue, we are authorized to conclude,
that virtue is the law we are born under, that it was so intended by the Author of our being; and we are bound by
the most intimate of all obligations, a regard to our own
high interest and happiness, to conform to it in all situations
and events.
Human nature is not simple and uniform, but made up
of several parts; and we can have no just idea of it as a
system or constitution, unless we take into our view
the respects and relation which these parts have to each
other. As the body is not one member; but many; so
our inward structure consists of various instincts, appetites,
and propensions.  Thus far there is no difference between
human creatures and brutes. But besides these common
passions and affections, there is another principle peculiar to mankind, that of conscience, moral sense, reflection,
call it what you pleasei by which they are enabled to review
their whole conduct, to approve of some actions in themselves, and to disapprove of others. That this principle will
of course have some infiuellce on. our behaviour, at least at
times, will hardly be disputed; but the particular influence
wilich it ought to have, the precise degree of power in the
regulating of our internal frame that is assigned it by FHim
who placed it there, is a point of the utmost consequence in
Itself, and on the determination of which, the very hinge of
our Author's Moral System turns. If the faculty here spo



4                      PREFACE
ken of be, indeed, what it is asserted to be, in nature and
kind, superior to every other passion and affection; if it te
given, not merely that it may exert its force occasionally, ot
as our present humour or fancy may dispose us, but that it
may at all times exercise an uncontrollable authority and
government'over all the rest; it will then follow, that, in order to complete the idea of human nature as a system, we
must not only take in each particular bias, propension, instinct, which are seen to belong to it, but we must add, besides, the principle of conscience, together with the subjection that is due to it from all the other appetites and passions;
just' as the idea of a civil constitution is formed, not barely
fiom enumerating the several members and ranks of which
it is composed, but from these considered as acting in various degrees of subordination to each other, and all under
the direction of the supreme authority, whether that authority, be vested in one person or more.
The view here given of the internal constitution of man,
and of the supremacy of conscience, agreeable to the conceptions of Bishop Butler, enables us to comprehend the
force of that expression, common to him and the ancient
moralists, that virtue consists in fbllpw!ing nature. The
meaning cannot be, that it consists in acting agreeably to
that propensity of our nature which happens to be the strongest; or which propels us towards certain objects without any
regard to the methods by which they are to be obtained; but
the meaning must be, that virtue consists in the due regulation
and subjection of all the other appetites and affections to the
superior faculty of conscience; from a conformity to which
alone our actions are properly natural, or corr espondent to
the nature, to the whole nature, of such an agent as man.
From hence too it appears,. that the Author of our frame is
by no means indifferent to virtue and vice, or has left us at
liberty to act at random, as humour or appetite may prompt
us; but that every mlan has the rule of right within him;
a rule attended in the very notion of it with authority, an1d
such as has the force of a direction and a command fronm
Hlim who made us what we are, what course of behaviour
is suited to our nature, and which he expects that we should
follow. This moral faculty implies also a presentimnent and
apprehension, that the judgment which it passes on our actions, considered as of good or ill desert, will hereafter be
confirmed by the unerring judgment of God; when virtue,and happiness, vice and misery, whose ideas are now so




BY THE EDITOR.
clQsely connected, shall be indissolubly united, andthe divine
government be found to correspond in the most exact proportion to the nature he has given us. Lastly, this just preroga"tive or supremacy of conscience it is, which Mr Pope has
described in his Universal Prayer, though perhaps, he may
have expressed it rather too strongly where he says,
What conscience dictates to be done
Or warns me not to do,
This teach me moire than hell to shun,
That, more than heaven pursue.'
The reader will observe, that this way of treating the
subject of morals, by an appeal to facts, does not at all interfere with that other way, adopted by Dr Samuel Clarke and
others, which begins with inquiring into the relations and
fitness of things, but rather illustrates and confirms it. That
there are essential differences in the qualities of human' actions, established bynature,and that this natural difference of
things, prior to and independent of all will, creates a natural
fitness in the agent to act agreeably to it, seems as little to
be denied, as that there is the moral difference before explained, from which we approve and feel a pleasure in what is
right, and conceive a distaste to what is wrong.  Stil!, however, when we are endeavoring to establish either this moTal or that natural difference, it ought never to be forgotten,
or rather it will require to be distinctly shown, that both of
these, when traced up to their. source, suppose an intelligent
Author of nature, and moral ruler of the world; who originally appointed these differences, and by such an appointment has signified his will that we should conform to them,
es the only, effectual method of securing our happiness on the
whole under his government.- And of this consideration out
prelate himself was not unmindful; as may be collected
from many expressions in different parts of his writings,
and particularly from  the following passages in his Xlth
Sermon.' It may be allowed, without any prejudice to the
cause of virtue and religion, that our ideas of happiness and
misery are, of all our ideas, the nearest and most important
to us; that they will, nay, if you please, that they ought
to prevail over those of order, and beauity, and harmony, and
proportion, if there should ever be, as it is impossible there
ever should be, any inconsistence between them.' And
+See note E; at the end of this Prface




PREFACk
agaih, t Though virtue or moral rectitude does indeed, consist in affection to and pursuit of what is right and good, as
such; yet, when we sit dowri in a cool hour, we can neither
justify to ourselves this or any other pursuit, till we are convinced that it will be for our happiness, or at least not con.
trary to it.'Besides the general system of morality opened above, our
Author, in his volume of Sermons, has stated with accuracy
the difference between self love and benevolence; in opposition to those who, on the one hand, make the whole of
virtue to consist in i benevolence,t and to those who, on the
other, assert that every particular affection and action is resolvable into self-love. In combating these opinions, he has
shown, I think, unanswerably, that there are the same kind
of indications in hunman nature, that we were made to promote the happiness of others, as that we were made to promote our own; that it is no just objection to this, that we
have dispositions to do evil to others as well as good; for we
have also dispositions to do evil as well as good to ourselves,
to our own most important interests even in this life, for the
sake of gratifying a present passion; that the thing to be
lamented is, not that men have too great a regard to their
own real goodi but that they have not enough; that benevolence is not mord at variance with, or unfriendly to, self
love, than any other particular affection is; and that by consuiting the happiness of others a man is so far from  lessen.
ing his own, thiat the very endeavour to do so though he
should fail in the accomplishment, is a source of the highest satisfaction and peace of mind.1  He has also, in passing, animadverted on the philosopher of Malmsbury, who,
in his book'Of Human Nature,' has advanced, a~ discove.
ries in moral science, that benevolence is only the love of
power, and compassion the fear of future calamity to our.
selves.  And this our Author has done, not so much with
the design of exposing the false reasoning of Mr Hobbes,
but because on so perverse an account of human nature he
has raised a system, subversive of all justice and honesty.~
II. The religious system of Bishop Butler is chiefly to
be collected from the treatise, entitled,'The Analogy of
* Serm. xi.
t See the 2d Dissertation' On the Nature of Virtue.'
$ See Serm. i. and xi. and the Preface to the Volume of Sexmona
i See the notes to Serm. i. and v.




BY THE EDITOR.                   7
Religion, Natural and Revealed, to the Constitution and
Course of nature.'
All things are double one against another, and God bath
made nothing imperfect.', On this single observation of
the Son of Sirach, the whole fabric of our prelate's defence
of religion, in his Afialogy, is raised. Instead of indulging
in idle speculations, how  the world might possibly have
been better than it is; or, forgetful of the difference between
hypothesis and fact, attempting to explain the divine economy with respect to intelligent creatures, from preconceived
notions of his own; he first inquires what the constitution
of nature, as made known to us in the way of experiment,
actually is; and from this, now seen and acknowledged, he
endeavours to form a judgment of that larger constitution,
which religion discovers to us. If the dispensation of Providence we are now under, considered as inhabitants of this
world, and having a temporal interest to secure in it, be
found, on examination, to be analogous to, and of a piece
with that further dispensation, which relates to us as designed for another world, in which we have an eternal interest,
depending on our behaviour here; if both may be traced up
to the same general laws, and appear to be carried on according to the same plan of administration; the fair presumption-is, that both proceed from one and the same Author. And if the principal parts objected to in this latter
dispensation be similar to, and of the same kind with what
we certainly experience under the former; the objections,
being clearly inconclusive in one ease, because contradicted
by plain fact, must, in all reason, be allowed to be inconclusive also in the other.
This way of arguing from what is acknowledged to what
is disputed, from things known to other things that resemble
them, from that part of the divine establishment which is
exposed to our view to that more important one ewhich lies
beyond it, is on all hands confessed to be just.:By this me.
thod Sir Isaa9 Newton has unfolded the System of nature;
Dy the same method Bishop Butler has explained the sys.
temrn of grace; and thus, to use the words of a writer, whom
I quote -with pleasure,  has formed and concluded a happy
alliance between faith and philosophy.'t
And although the argument from analogy be allowed to
be imperfect, and by no means sufficient to solve all difficul.
~ Eccles. xlii. 24:
t Mr Mainwaring's Disiertatin, prefixed to his Volume of Sermons.




8                       PREFACE
tie- respecting the government of God, and the designs of
is providence with regard to mankind; (a degree of knowlb
e.ge, which we are not furnished with faculties for attain,
ing, at least in the present state;) yet surely it is of impor.
tance to learn from it, that the natural and moral world are
intimately connected, and parts of one stupendous whole, or
system; and that the chief objections which are brought
against religion, may be urged with equal force against the
constitution and course of nature, where they are certainly
false in fact.  And this information we may derive from the
work before us; the proper design of which, it may be of
use to observe, is not' to prove the truth of religion, either
natural or revealed, but to confirm that proof,already known,
by considerations'from analogy.
After this account of the method of reasoning employed
by our Author, let us now advert to his manner of applying
it, first, to the subject of Natural Religion, and, secondly, to
that of Revealed.
1. The foundation of all our hopes and fears is a future
life; and with this the treatise begins.  Neither the reason
of the thing, nor the analogy of nature, according to Bishop
Butler, give ground for imagining, that the unknown event,
death, will be our destruction. The states in which we have
formerly existed, in the womb and in infancy, are not more
different from each other than from that of mature age in
which we now exist; therefore, that we shall continue to
exist hereafter, in a state as different from the present as the
present is from those through which we have passed already, is a presumption favored by the analogy of nature. All
that we know from reason concerning death, is the effects it
has upon animal bodies  and the frequent instances among
men, of the intellectual powers continuing in high health
and vigouri at the very time when a mortal dis'ease is on the
point of putting an end to all the powers of sensation, induce
us to hope that it mayhave no effect at all on the human soul,
not even so much as to suspend the exercise of its faculties;
though if it have, thie suspension of a power by no means irmplies its extinction, as sleep or a swoon may convince us.*
The probability of a future state once granted, an important question arises, How best to secure our interest in that
state? We find from what passes daily before us, that the
constitution of nature admits of misery as well as happiness;
* Part iclp 1.




B1Y TIEZ EDITOR.                     9
Lhat both of these are the consequences of our own actions,
and these consequences we are enabled to foresee.  Therefore, that our happiness or misery in a future world may depend on our own actions also, and that rewards or punishments hereafter may follow our good or ill behaviour h;ere, is
but an appointment of the same sort with what we experience under the divine government, according to the regular
course of nature.-*
This supposition is confirmed from another circumstance,
that the natural government of God, under which we now
live, is also moral; in which rewards anqd punishments are
the consequences of actions, considered as virtuous and
vicious.  Not that every man is rewarded or punished here
in exact proportion to his desert; for the essential tendencies
of virtue and vice, to produce happin..ess and the contrary,
are often hindered from taking effect from accidental causes.
However, there are'plainly the rudiments and beginnings of
a righteous administration to be discerned in the constitution
of nature; from whence we are led to expect, that these accidental hindrances will one day be remo\ved, dtnd the rule of
distributive justice oblain'completely in a more perfect state.t
The moral government of God, thus established, implies in
the notion of it some sort of trial, or a imoral possibility of acting wroncg as well as right in those who are the subjects of
it..  And the doctrine of religion, that the present life is in
fact a state of probation for a future one, is rendered credible
from its being analogous throughout to the general conduct
of Providence towards us with respect to this world; in
which prudence is necessary to secure our temporal interest,.ust as we are taught that virtue is necessary to secure our
eternal interest; and both are trusted to ourselves.t
But the. present life is not merely a state of probation, inlplying in it difficulties and danger, it is also a state of discipline and improverrent.: and that, both in our temporal and
religious capacity.  Thus, childhood is a state of discipline
for youth; youth for manhood; and that for old age. Strength
of body, and maturity of understanding, are acquired by degrees: and neither of them without continual exercise and
attention on our part, not only in the begrinning of life, but
through the whole course of it.  So, again, with respect to
our religious concerns, the present world is fitted to be, and
('hap. 2'      Clhar. 3.       + Palt i. ch3:[i). 4.




10                     PREFACR
to good men is an event, a state of discipline and improve
ment for a future one. The several passions and propensions
implanted in our hearts, incline us, in a multitude of instances, to forbidden pleasures; this inward infirmity is increased by various snares and temptations, perpetually occurring
from without: hence arises the necessity of recollection and
self-government, of withstanding the calls of appetite, and
forming our minds to habits of piety and virtue; habits of
which we are capable, and which, to creatures in a state of
moral imperfection, and fallen from their original integrity,
must be of the greatest use, as an additional security, over
a-nd above the principle of conscience, from the dangers to
which we are exposed.*
Nor is the credibility here given, by the analogy of nature,
to the general doctrine of religion, destroyed or weakened by
any notions concerning necessity.  Of itself it.is a mere
word, the sign of an abstract idea; and as much requires an
agent, that is, a necessary agent in order to effect any thing.
as freedom requires a free agent. Admitting it to be speculatively true, if considered as influencing practice, it is the
same as false: for it -is matter of experience, that, with re.
gard to our present interest, and as inhabitants of this world,
we are treated as.if we were f'ee'; and therefore the analogy of nature leads us to conclude, that, with regard to oui
future interest, and as designed for another world, we shall
be treated as free also. Nor does the opinion of necessity.
supposing it possible, at all affect either the general proof of
religion, or its external evidence.t
Still objections may be made against the wisdom and good
ness of the divine government, to which analogy, which-car
only- show the truth or credibility of facts, affords no answer.
Yet even here analogy is of use, if it suggest that the divine government is a scheme pr system and not a number
of unconnected acts, and that this system is also above out
comprehension. Now, the government of the natural world
appears to be a system of this kind; with parts, related to
each other, and together composing a whole: in which system, ends are brought about by the use of means, many of
which means, before experience, would have been suspected
to have had a quite contrary tendency; which is carried on
by general laws, similar causes uniformly producing similar
effects i the utility of which general laws, and the inconve~'hap.                        I t Port t Chap. 6.




BY TUE EDITOR.                  11
nienees which would probably arise from the occasional or
even secret suspension of them, we are in some sort enabled
to discern.;? but of. the whole we are incompetent judges,
because of the small -part which comes within our view.
Reasoning then from what we know, it is highly credible,
that the government of the moral world is a system also car.
ried on by general laws, and in which ends are accomplished Ily the intervention of means; and that both constitu
tioks, the natural and the moral, areso connected, as to form
together but one scheme. But of this scheme, as that of
the natural world taken alone, we are not qualified to judge
on account of the mutual respect of the several parts to each
other and to the whole, and our own incapacity to survey
the whole, or, with accuracy, any single part. All objections, therefore, to' the wisdom and goodness of the divine
government may be founded merely on our ignorance;t and
to such objections our ignorance is the proper, and a satisfactory answer..:
2. The chief difficulties concerning Natural Religion being now removed, our Author proceeds, in the next place, to
that which is revealed; and as an introduction to an inquiry
into the Credibility of Christianity, begins with the consideration of its Importance.
The importance of Christianity appears in two respects.
First, In its being a republication of natural Religion, in its
native simplicity, with authority, and with'circumstances of
advantage; ascertaining in many instances- of moment,
what before was only probable, and particularly confirming
the doctrine of a future-state of rewards and punishments.~
Secondly, As revealing a new dispensation of Providence,
originating from the pure love and mercy of God, and conducted by the mediation of his Son, and the guidance of
his Spirit, for the recovery and salvation of mankind, re
prescnted in a state of apostacy and ruin. This account of
Christianity being admitted to be just, and the distinct offices of these three divine persons being once discovered to
us, we are as Imtch obliged, in point of duty, to acknowledge
the relations we stand in to the Son and Holy Ghost, as our
Mediator and Sanctifier, as we are obliged in point of duty
* See a Treatise ort Divine Benevolenee, by Dr Thomasr Balguy,
Part ii.
tr See.Note P, at the end of this Preface.; Part i. Chap. 7.
~ 8an nte G, at th end Of tias w.E




12                     PREFACE
to acknowledge the relation we stand in to God the Father; although the two former of these relations be learnt
from revelation only, and in the last we are instructed by the
light of nature; the obligation in either case, arising from
the offices themselves, and not at all depending on the manner in which they are made-known to us.The presumptions against revelation in general are, tha
it is not discoverable by reason, that it is unlike to what is
so discovered, and that it was introduced and supported by
miracles. But in a scheme so large as that of the universe,
unbounded in extent and everlasting in duration, there must
of necessity be numberless circumstances which are beyond
the reach of our faculties to discern, and which can only be
known by divine illumination.  And both in the natfural and
moral government of the world, under which we live, we
find many things unlike one to another, and therefore ought
not to wonder if the same unlikeness obtain between things
visible and invisible; although it be far from ttue, that revealed religion is entirely unlike the constitution of nature,
as analogy may teach us. Nor is there any thing incredible
in revelation, considered as miraculous; whether miracles be
supposed to have been performed at the beginning of the
world, or after a course of nature has been established. Not
at the beginning of the world; for then there was either no
course of nature at all, or a power must have been exerted
totally different from what that course is at present. All
men and animals cannot have been born, as they are now;
but a-pair of each sort must have been produced at first, in
a way altogether unlike to that in which they have been
since produced; unless we affirm, that men and animals
have existed from eternity in an endless succession. One
miracle, therefore, at least, there must have been at the beginning of the world, or at the time of man's creation. Not
after the settlement of a course of nature, on account of miracles being contrary to that course, or, in other words, contrary to experience; for, in order to know whether miracles,
worked in attestation of a divine religion, be contrary to ex
perience or not,'we ought to be acquainted with other ca'ses
similar or parallel to those in which miracles are alleged to
hive been wrought. But where shall we find such similar
or parallel'cases? The world which we inhabit affords
none.  W-'  know of rat extraordinary revelations from God
* PH. ii. Captr 




BY tHPe EDITOR.                13
to man, but those recorded in the Old and New Testament;
all of which were established by miracles. It cannot therefore be said, that miracles are incredible, because contrary to
experience, when all the experience we have is in favor of
miracles, and on the side of religion.- Besides, in reasoning concerning miracles, they ought not to be compared with
common natural events, but with uncommon appearances,
such as comets, magnetism, electricity; which, to one acquainted only with the usual phenomena of nature, and the
common powers of matter, must before proof of their actual
existence, be thought incredible.t
The presumptions against Revelation in general being
despatched, objections against the Christian Revelation in
particular, against the scheme of it, as distinguished from
objections against its evidence, are considered next. Now,
supposing a revelation to be really given, it is highly probable beforehand, that it must contain many things appealing
to us liable to objections. The acknowledged dispensation
of nature is very different from what we should have expected: reasoning then from analogy, the revealed dispensation,
it is credible, would be also different. Norr are we in any
sort judges at what time, or in what degree, or manner it is
fit or expedient for God to instruct us, in things confessedly
of the greatest use, either by natural reason, or by superna.
tural information. Thus, arguing on speculation only, and
without experience, it wvould seem very unlikely that so important a remedy as that provided by Christianity, for the recovery of mankind from a state of ruin, should have been
for so many ages withheld; and, when at last vouchsafed,
should be imparted to so few; and, after it has been imparted, should be attended with obscurity and doubt. And just
so we might have argued, before experience, concerning the
remedies provided in nature for bodily diseases, to which
by nature we are exposed: for many of these were unknown
to mankind for a number of ages; are known but to few
now: some important ones probably not discovered yet; and
those which are, neither certain in their application, nor uni.
versal in their use.' And the same mode of reasoning that
would lead us to expect they should have been so, would
lead us to expect that the necessity 6f them should have
been superseded, by there being no diseases; as the necesity of the Christian scheme, it may be thought, might also
* Seenote Hi a ths end of this Prefo..   I Mbap 




14                   PREFACS
have been superseded, by preventing the fall of man, so that
he should not have stood in need of a Redeemer at all.
As to the objections against the wisdom and goodness of
Christianity, the same answer may be applied to them as
was to the like objections against the constitution of nature.
For here also, Christianity is a scheme or economy, compo:
scd of various parts, forminga whole, in which scheme means
are used for the accomplishing of ends; and which is conducted by general laws, of all of which we know as little
as we do of the constitutiQn of nature. And'the seeming
want of wisdom or goodness in this system: is to be ascribed
to the same cause, as the like appearances of defects in the
natural system;. our inability to discern the whole scheme,
and our ignorance of the relation of those parts which are
discernible to others beyond our view.
The objections against Christianity, as a matter of fact,
and against the wisdom and goodness of it, having been obviated together, the chief of them are now to be considered
distinctly.  One of these, which is levelled against the en.
tire system itself, is of this sort: The restoration of mankind,
represented in Scripture as the great design of the gospel, is
described as requiring a long series of means, and persons,
and dispensations, before it can be brought to its completion;
whereas the whole ought to have been effected at once,
Now every thing we see in the course of nature, shows the
folly of this objection. For in the natural course of Providence, ends are brought about by means, not operating immediately and at once, but deliberately and in a way of progression; one thing being subservient to another, this to
somewhat further; The change of seasons, the ripening of
fruits, the growth of vegetable and animal bodies, are instances of this.  And therefore, that the same' progressive method should be followed in the dispensation of Christianity, as is observed in the common dispensation of Providence, is a reasonable expectation justified by the analogy
of nature.t
Another circumstance, objected to in the Christian scheme,
is the appointment of a Mediator, and the saving of the
world through him. But the visible government of God being actually administered in this way, or by, the mediation
and instrumentality.of others, there can be no general preaumption against an appointment of this kind, against thi&
* C..   Chap 




BY TEE E'DITO'R.                15
invisible government being exercised in the same manner.
We have seen already, that with regard to ourselves this
visible government is earned on by rewards and punishments; for happiness and misery are the consequences of
our own actions, considered as virtuous and vicious; and
these consequences we are enabled to foresee.. It might have
been imagined, before consulting experience, that after we
had rendered ourselves liable to misery by our own ill conduct, sorrow for what was past, and behaving well for the
future, would, alone, and of themselves, have exempted us
from deserved punishment, and restored us to the divine favor. But the fact is otherwise; -and real reformation is often found to be of no avail, so as to secure the criminal from
poverty, sickness, infamy, and death, the never failing attendants on vice and extravagance, exceeding a certain degree. By the course of nature then it appears, God does
not always pardon a sinner on his repentaice.  Yet thereis
provision made, even in nature, that the miseries which men
bring on themselves, by unlawful indulgences, may in many
cases be mitigated, and in some removed-; partly by extraordinary exertions of the offender himself, but more especially and frequently by the intervention of others, who vo.
luntaily, and from motives of compassion, submit to labor
andl sorrow, such as produce long and lasting inconveniences
to themselves, as the means of rescuing another from the
wretched effects of former imprudences.  Vicarious punishment, therefore, or one person's sufferings contributing to
the relief of another, is a providential disposition in the economy'of nature.- And it ought not to be matter of surprise,
if by a method analogous to this we be redeemed from sin
and misery, in the economy of grace.  That mankind at
present are in a state of degradation, different from that in
which they were originally created, is the very ground of
the Christian revelation, as contained in the Scriptures.
Whether we acquiesce in the account, that our being placed
in such a state is owing to the crime of our first parents, or
choose to ascribe it to any other cause, it makes no difference as to our condition: the vice and unhappiness of the
world are still there, notwithstanding all our suppositions;
nor is it Christianity that hath put us into this state.  We
learn also from the same Scriptures, what experience and
the use of expiatory sacrifices from the most early times
*   n iuow i, at h enidof tkiP- 




16                    PREFACE
might have taught us, that repentance alone is not sufficient
to prevent the fatal consequences of past transgressions I
But that still there is roonm for mercy, and that repentance
shall be available, though not of itself, yet through the mediation of a divine person, the Messiah; who, from the sub.
limest principles of compassion, when we were dead in trespasses and sins,? suffered and died, the innocent for the guilty, the just for the unjust,t that we might have redemption
through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins.t In what
way the death of Christ was of that efficacy it is said to
be, in procuring the reconciliation of sinners, the Scriptures
have not explained. It is enough that the doctrine is revealed; that it is not contrary to any truth which reason
and experience teach us; and that it accords in perfect har.
mony with the usual method of the divine conduct in -the
government of the world.~
Again it hath been said, that if the Christian revelation
were true, it must have been universal, and could not have
been left upon doubtful evidence. But God, in his natural
providence, dispenses his gifts in great variety, not only
among creatures of the same species, but to the same individuals also at different times. Had the Christian revelation been universal at first, yet, from the diversity of men's
abilities, both of mind and body, their various means of improvement, and other external advantages, some persons
must soon have been in a situation, with respect to religious
knowledge, much superior to. that of others, as much perhaps as they are at present. And all men will be equitably dealt with at last; and to whom little is given, of him
little will be required. Then, as to the evidence of religion
being left doubtful, difficulties of this sort, like difficulties in
practice, afford scope and opportunity for a virtuous exercise
of the understanding, and dispose the mind to acquiesce and
rest satisfied with any evidence that is real. In the daily
commerce of life, merr are cbliged to act upon great uncertainties, with regard to success in their temporal pursuits;
and the case with regard to religion is parallel. However,
though religion be not intuitively true, the proofs of it which
we have are amply sufficient in reason to induce us to embrace it; and dissatisfaction with those proofs may possibly
be men's own fault. II
Nothing remains but to attend to the positive evidence
~ EphHii.. i     t  Pet.'iiL 18.     Colo i 14.
0 Cap.s          ii Chap.,A




BY THE EDITOR.                  1.7
there is for the truth of Christianity.  Now, besides its di.
rect and fundamental proofs, which are miracles and prophecies; there are many collateral circumstances, which may be
united into one view, and altogether may be considered asma.
king up one argument. In this way of treating the subject,
the revelation, whether real or otherwise, may be'supposed
to be wholly historical: the general design of which appears
to be, to give an account of the condition of religion, and its
professors, with a concise narration of the political state of
things, as far as religion is affected by it, during a great
length of time, near six thousand years of which are already
past. More porticularly, it comprehends an account of God's
entering into covenant with one nation, the Jews, that he
would be their God, and that they should be his people; of
his often interposing in their affairs; giving them the promise; and afterwards the possession, of a flourishing country; assuring them of the greatest national prosperity in
case of their obedience, and threatening the severest national punishment in case they forsook him, and joined in the
idolatry of their pagan neighbors. It contains also a prediction of a particular person to appear in the fulness of time,
in whom all the promises of God to the Jews were to be fulfilled. And it relates, that, at the time expected, a person did actually appear, assuming to be the Saviour fore
told; that he worked various miracles among them, in confirmation of his divine authority; and as was foretold also,
was rejected and put to death by the very people who had
long desired and waited for his coming: But that his religion, in spite of all opposition, was established in the world
by his disciples, invested with supernatural powers for that
purpose; of the fate and fortunes of which religion there isa prophetical description, carried -down to the end of time.
Let any one now, after reading the above history, and not
knowing whether the whole were not a fiction, be supposed
to ask, Whether all that is here related be true? and instead
of a direct answer, let him be informed of the several acknowledged facts, which are found to correspond to it in real
life; and then, let him compare the history and facts together, and observe the astonishing coincidence of both: Such
a joint review must appear to him of very great weight, and
to amount to evidence somewhat more than human. And
unless the whole series, and every particular circumstance




18                        PREFACE
contained in it, can be thought to have arisen from accident7
the truth of Christianity is proved.The view  here given of the moral and religious systems
of Bishop Butler, it will immediately be perceived, is chiefly
intended for younger students, especially for students in divinity; to whom it is hoped it may be of use, so as to encourage them to peruse, with proper diligence, the original
works of the Author himself.  For it may be necessary to
observe, that neither of the volumes of this excellent prelate are addressed to those who read for amusement, or curiosity, or to get rid of time.  All subjects are not to be comprehended with the same ease; and morality and religion,
when treated as sciences, each accompanied with difficulties
of its own, can neither of them be understood as they ought,
without a very peculiar attention. - But morality and religion are not merely to be studied as sciences, or as being
speculatively true; they are to be regarded in another and
higher light, as the rule of life and manners, as containing
authoritative directions by which to regulate our faith and
practice.  And in this view, the in anite importance of them
considered, it can-never be an indifferent matter'whether
they be received or rejected. For both claim to be the voice
of God; and whether they be so or not, cannot be know,
till their claims be impartially examined.  If they indeed
come from him, we are bound to conform to them at our
peril: nor is it left to our choice, whether we will submit to
the obligations they impose upon us or not; for submit to
them we must, in. such a sense, as to incur the punishments
denounced by both against wilful disobedience to their injunctions.
* Chap. 7. To the Analogy are subjoined two Dissertations, both on
ginally inserted in the body of the work. One on Personal Identity, in
which are contained, some strictures on Mr Locke, who asserts that consciousness makes or constitutes personal identity; whereas, as our author
observes, consciousness makes only personality, or is necessary to the idea of
a person, i. e. a thinking, intelligent being, but presupposes, and therefbre
cannot constitute, personal identity; just as knowledge presupposes truth,
but does not constitute it. Consciousness of past actions does indeed show
us the identity of ourselves, or gives us a certain assurance that we are the
same persons or livIng agents now, which we were at the time to which our
remembrance can look back; but still we should be the same persons as we
were, though this consciousness of what is past were wanting, though all
that had been done by us formerly were forgotten; unless it be true, that
no person has existed a single moment beyond what he can remember.
The other dissertation is On the zVature of Vitue, which properly be
longs to the moral system of our Author already explained




THE LIFE
OF
DR BUTLER.
DR JOSEPH BUTLER, a prelate of the most distinguished
character and abilities, was born at Wantage, in Berkshire, in'the year 1692. His father Mr. Thomas Butler,
who was a substantial and reputable shopkeeper in that
town, observing in his son Joseph- an excellent genius and inclination for learning, determined to educate him for the min.
istry, among the Protestant dissenters of the presbyterian
denomination. For this purpose, after he had gone through
a proper course of grammatical literature, at the free grammar school of his native place, under the care of the Rev.
Mr Philip Barton, a clergyman of the Church of England,
he was sent to a dissenting academy, then kept at Gloucester, but which was soon afterwards removed to Tewksbury.
The principal tutor of this academy was Mr Jones, a man
of uncommon abilities and knowledge, who had the honor
of training up several scholars, who became of great eminence, both in the established church and among the -dissenters. At Tukesbury, Mr Butler made an extraordinary
progress in the study of divinity; of which he gave a remarkable proof, in the letters addressed by him while he
resided at Tukesbury, to Dr Samuel Clarke, laying before
him the doubts that had arisen in his mind, concerning the
conclusiveness of some arguments in the Doctor's demonstration of the being and attributes of God. The first of
these letters was dated-the 4th November, 1713; and the
sagacity and depth of thought displayed in it, immediately
excited Dr Clark's particular notice. This condescension
* He was the youngest of eight children.




20                  THE LIFE OF
encouraged Mr Butlbr to address the Doctor again upon
the same subject, which likewise was answered by him:
and the correspondence being carried on in three other letters, the whole was annexed to the celebrated treatise before
mentioned, and the collection has been retained in all the
subsequent editions of that work. The management of
this correspondence was intrusted by Mr Butler to his friend
and fellow pupil, Mr Seeker, who, in order to conceal the
affair, undertook to convey the letters to the post-office at
Gloucester, and to brinog back Dr Clark's answers. When
Mr Butler's name was discovered to the doctor, the candor,
modesty, and good sense, with which he had written, immediately procured him the friendship of that eminent and excellent man. Our young student was not, however, during
his continuance at Tukesbury, solely employed in metaphysical speculations and inquiries. Another subject of his
serious consideration was, the propriety of his becoming a
dissenting minister. Accordingly, he entered into an examiriation of the principles of non-conformity; the result. of
which was, such a dissatisfaction with them, as determined
him to conform to the established church. This intention
was, at first, disagreeable to his father, who endeavored to
divert him from his purpose; and, with that view, called in
the assistance of some eminent presbyterian divines; but
finding his son's resolution to be fixed, he at length suffered
him to be removed to Oxford, where he was admitted a commoner of Oriel college, on the 17th March, 1714. And.
what time he took orders doth not appear, nor who the bishop
was by whom he was ordained;.but it is certain that he
entered into the church soon after his admission at Oxford, if
it be true, as is asserted, that he sometimes assisted Msr
Edward Talbot in the divine service, at his living of Hendred, near Wantage With this gentleman, who was the
second son of D)r William Talbot, successively bishop of
Oxford, Salisbury, and Durham, Mr Butler formed an intimate friendship at Oriel college; which-friendship laid the,
foundation of all his subsequent preferments, and procured
for him a very honorable station, when he was only twenty.
six years of age. For it was in 1718 that, at the recommendation of Mr Talbot, in conjunction with that' of Di
Clarke, he was appointed by Sir Joseph Jekyll to be preacher at the Rolls. This was three years before he had taken
any degree at the University, where he did not go out bachefor of law till the 10th June, 1721, which) however, was as




DR BU I LER,                 21
soon as that degree could suitably be conferred on hiir. Mr
Butler continued at the Rolls till 1726; in the beginning of
which year he published, in one volume octavo, " Fifteen
Sermons preached at that Chapel." In the meanwhile, by
the patronage of Dr Talbot, bishop of Durham, to whose
notice he had been recommended (together with Mr Benson and Mr Secker) by Mr Edward Talbot, on his death
bed, our author had been presented first to the rectory of
Haughton, near Darlington, and afterwards to that of Stanhope, in the same diocese. The benefice of Haughton,
was given to him in 1722, and that of Stanhope in 1725.
At l-Iaughton there was a necessity for rebuilding a great
part of the parsonage house, and Mr Butler had neither
money nor talents for that work. Mr Secker, therefore,
who had always the interest of his friends at heart, and acquired a very considerable influence with Bishop Talbot,
persuaded that prelate to'give Mr Butler, in exchange for
Haughton, the rectory of Stanhope, which was not only
free from any such incumbrance, but was likewise of much
superior value, being indeed one of the richest parsonages
in England. W~hIlst our author continued preacher at the
Rolls-Chapel, he divided his time between his duty in town
and country; but when he quitted the Rolls, he resided,
during seven years, wholly at Stanhope, in the conscious
discharge of every obligation appertaining to a good parish
priest. This retirement, however, was too solitary for his
disposition, which had in it a natural cast of gloominess.
And though his recluse hours were by no means lost, either
to private improvement or public utility, yet he felt at times,
very painfully, the want of that select society of friends to
which he had been accustomed, and which could inspire him
with the greatest cheerfulness. Mr Secker, therefore, who
knew this, was extremely anxious to draw him out into a
more active and conspicuous scene, and omitted no opportu.
nity of expressing this desire to such as he thought capable
of promoting it. Having himself been'appointed king's
chaplain,in1732, he took occasion, in a conversation which
he had the honor of holding with Queen Caroline, to mention to her his friend Mr Butler.  The queen said she
thought he had been dead. Mr Secker assured her he was
riot. Yet her Majesty afterwards asked Archbishop Blackburn if he was not dead; his answer was, "No, madam;
but he is buried."  Mr Seeker continuing his purpose of
endeavouring to bring his friend out of his retirement- found




22                 THE LIFE OF
means, upon Mr Charles Talbot's being made lord chansellor, to have Mr Butler recommended to him for his chaplain.
His lordship accepted, and sent for himl; and this promotion
calling him to town, he took Oxford in his way, and was admitted there to the degree of doctor of law, on the Sth
December, 1733. The lord chancellor, who gave him also
a prebend in the church of Rochester, had consented that
he should reside at his parish of Stanhope one half of the
year.
Dr Butler being thus brought back into the world, his
merit and his talents soon introduced him to particular notl;ice, and paved the way for his rising to those high dignities
which he afterwards enjoyed. In 1736 he was appointed
clerk of the closet to queen Caroline; and in the same year,
he presented to her majesty a copy of his excellent treatise,
entitled, "The Analogy of Religion, Natural and Revealed,
to the Constitution and Course of Nature." His attendance
upon his royal mistress, by her especial command, was fiom
seven to nine m the evening every day; and though this
particular relation to that excellent and learned queen was
soon determined by her death in 1737, yet he had been so
effectually recommended by her, as well as by the late Lord
Chancellor Talbot, to his Majesty's favor, that in the next
year he was raised to the highest order of the church, by a
nomination to the bishopric of Bristol; to which see he was
consecrated on the Third December, 1738. King George
II. not being satisfied with this proof of his regard to Dr
Butler, promoted him, in 1740, to the deanery of St Paul's,
London; into which he was installed on the 24th May in
that year. Finding the demands of this dignity to be incompatible with his parish duty at Stanhope, he immediatelyi resigned that rich benefice. Besides our prelate's unre.
rmitted attention to his peculiar obligations, he was called
upon to preach several discourses on public occasions, which
were afterwards separately printed, and have since been an.
nexed to the latter editions of the sermons at the Rolls4
Chapel. In 1746, upon the death of Dr Egerton, bishop
of Hereford, Dr Butler was made clerk of the closet'to the
King; and on the 16th October, 1750, he received another
distinguished mark of his Majesty's favor, by being translated to the see of Durham. This was on the 16th of October in that year,: upon the decease of Dr Edward Chandler.
Our prelate being thus appointed to preside over a diocese
tJx i whiah he  had:long been connected, delivered his fist,




DR BUTLER,                     23:
and indeed his last charge to his clergy, at his primary visitation in 1751. The principal object of it was,'External
Religion.' The bishop having observed, with deep concern,
the great and growing neglect, of serious piety in the kingdom, insisted strongly on the usefulness of outward fo'ms
and institutions, in fixing and preserving a sense of devotion
atnd duty in the minds of men.  In doing this; he was
thought by several persons to speak too favourably of Paan and Popish ceremonies, and to countenance in a certain
degree; the cause of superstition.  Under that apprehension
an able and spirited writer, who was understood to be a
clergyman of the Church of England, published il 1752, a
pamplhlet, entitled,'.A  Serious Inquiry into the Use and
Importance of External Religion; occasioned by. some passages in the Right Rev. the Lord Bishop -of Durham's
Charge to. the Clergy of that Diocese;-Humbly addressed
to his Lordship.' Many persons, however, and we believe the
greater part of the Clergy of the diocese, did not think out
prelate's Charge so exceptionable as it appeared to this author.. The Charge, being printed at Durham, and having
never been annexed to any of Dr Butler's other works, is
now become extremely scarce; and it is observable, that it
is the only one of his publications which ever produced him
a direct literary antagonist.*
By- this promotion, our worthy bishop was furnished with
ample means of exerting the virtue of charity; a virtue
which eminently abounded in him, and the exercise ol
which was his highest delight. But this gratification he
did not long enjoy.  He had been but a short time seated in
his new bishopric, when his health began visibly to decline;
and having been complimented, during his indisposition, upo'n account of his great resignation to the divine will, he is
said to have expressed some regret that he should be taken
from the present world so soon after he had been rendered
capable of becoming much more useful in it. In his last
illness he was carried to Bristol, to try the waters of that
place; but these proving ineffectual, he removed to Bath,
where, being past recovery, he died on' the 16th of June,
1752.  His corpse was conveyed to Bristol, and interred in
the cathedral there, where a morument, with an inscription,
is erected to his memory.
On the greatness of Bishop Butler's character we need
* This Charge, with all the'rest of Bishop Butlers' writings, is included
in the present edition of his workl.




24                THE LIFE OF DR. BUTLER.
not enlarge; for his profound knowledge, and the prodigious
strength of his mind, are amply displayed in his incomparable writing. His piety was of the most serious and fervent,
and, perhaps somewhat of the ascetic kind.  His benevolencee was warm, generous, and diffusive. Whilst he was
bishop of Bristol he expended, in repairing and improving the
episcopal palace, four thousand pounds, which is said to
have been more  than  the whole revenues of bishopric
amounted to, during his continuance in that see. Besides his
private benefactions, he was a contributor to the infirmary at
Bristol, and a subscriber to three of the hospitals at London.
He was likewise o. principal promoter, though not the first
founder of the infirmaryv at Newcastle, in Northumberland. In
supporting the hospitality and dignity of the rich and powerful diocese of Durham, he was desirous.of imitating the
spirit of his patron, Bishop Talbot.  In this spirit he set
apart three days every week for the reception and entertain.
ment of the principal gentry of the country.  Nor were
even the clergy who had the poorest benifices neglected by
him.  He not only occasionally invited them  to dine with
him, but condescended to yisit them at their respective par
ishes.  By his will he left five hundred pounds to the Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts and some
legacies to his friends and domestics.  His executor and
residuary legatee was his chaplain, the Rev. Dr Nathaniel
Forster, a divine of distinguished literature.  Bishop Butler
was never married. Soon after his decease, the following
lines, by way of epitaph, were written concerning him; and
were printed first, if we recollect aright, in the London Magazine.
Beneath this marble, Butler lies entombed,
Who, with a soul enflamed by love divine,
His life in presence of his God consumed,
Like the bright lamps before the holy shyine.
His aspect pleasing, mind with learning fraught,
His eloquence was like a chain of gold,
That the wild passions of, mankind controlled;
Merit, wherever to be found, he sought.
Desire of transient riches he had none;
These he, with bounteous hand, did well dispense
Bent to fulfil the ends of Providence;
His heart still fixed on an immortal crown;
His heart a mirror was, of purest kind,
Wherethe bright image of his Maker shined;
Reflecting faithful to the throne above,
The arradiant glories of the Mystic Dove.




THE following Epitaph, said to be written by Dr Nathaniel Forster, is inscribed on a flat marble stone, in the cathedral church cf Bristol, placed over the spot where the
remains of Bishop Butler are deposited; and which, as
it is now almost obliterated, it may be worth while here to
preserve.
H. S.
Reverendus admodum in Christo Pater
JOSEPHIUS BUTLER, LL. D.
Hujusce primo Dicecescos
Deinde Dunelmensis Episcopus.
Qualis quantusq; Vir erat
Sua libentissime agnovit aet as:
Et ai quid Proesuli aut Scriptori ad fiamamvalent
Mens altissima,
Ingenii perspicacis et subacti Vis,
Animusq; pius, simplex, candidus, liberalis
M ortui haud facile evanescet memoria.
Obiit Bathonin 16 Kalend. Julii
A. D. 1752.
Annos natus 60.
2








ADVERTISEMENT.
IF the reader should mneet here with any thing which he
had not before attended to, it will not be in the observations
upon the constitution and course of nature, these being all
obvious; but in the application of them: in which, though
there is nothing but what appears to me of some,real weight,
andi therfore, of great importance; yet he will observe
several things which will appear to him of very little, if he
can think things to be of little importance, which are of any
real weight at all, upon such a subjec.t as religion.  However, the proper force of the following treatise lies- in the
whole general analogy considered together.
It is come, I know not how, to be taken for granted, by
many persons, that Christianity is not so much as a subject
of inquiry; but that it is, now at length, discovered to be
fictitious. And accordingly they treat it, as if, in the pre.
sent age, this were an agreed point among all people of discernnent.; and nothing remained, but to set it up as a principal subject of mirth and ridicule, as it were by way of reprisals, for its having so long interrupted the pleasures of the
wqrll.  On the contrary, thus much, at least, will be here
found, not taken for grantedl, but proved, that any reasonable Inan, who will thoroughly consider the matter, may be
as  ullch assuredl, as he is of his own being, that it is not,
howcver, so clear a case, that there is nothing in it. There
is. I thinlk, strong evidence of its truth; but it is certain




28               ADVERTISEMENT.
no one can, upon principles of reason, be satisfied of the
contrary.  And the practical consequence to be drawn
from this, is not attended to, by every one who is concerned
in it.
JMay, 1736.




INTRODUCTION.
PRoBABLE evidence is essentially distinguished from demonstrative by this, that it admits of degiees, and of all
variety of them, from the highest moral certainty, to the very lowest presumption. We cannot, indeed, say a -thing is
probably true upon on'e very slight presumption for, it; because, as there may be probabilities on both sides of the
question, there may be some against it; and though there
be not, yet a slight presumption does not beget that degree
of conviction, which it implied in saying a thing is probably
true. But that the slightest possible presumption is of the
nature of a probability, appears from hence, that such low
presumption, often repeated, will amount even to moral certainty. Thus, a man's having observed the ebb and flow of
the tide to-day, affords some'sort of presumption, though the
lowest imaginable, that it may happen again to-morrow;
but the observation of this event for so many days, and
months, and ages together, as it has been observed by
mankind, gives us a full assurance that it will.
That which chiefly constitutes probability, is expressed in
the word'likely; i. e. like some truth,- or true event; like it,
in itself, in its evidence, in some more or fewer of its circumstances. For when we determine a thing to be probably
true, suppose that an event has or will come to pass,'t is
from the mind's remarking in it a likeness to some other events
*VeZrl..




30                  INTRODUCTION.
which we have observed has come to pass.  And this observation forms, in numberless daily instances, a presumption, opillionf or full conviction, that such event has or will
come to pass; according as the observation is, that the like
event has'sometimes, mlost commonly, or always, so far as
our observation reaches, come to pass at like distances of
time, or place, or upon like occasions.  Hence arises the belief, that a child, if it.lives twenity years, will grow up to the
stature and strength of a man; that food will contribute to
the preservation of its life, and the want of it for such a
number of days be its certain destruction.  So, likewise, the
rule and measure of our hopes and fears concerning the success of our pursuits; our expectations that others will act
so and so in such circumstances; and our judgment that
such actions proceed from  such principles; all these rely
upon our having observed the like to what we hope, fear, expect, judge; I say upon our having observed the like, either
with respect to others or ourselves.  And thus, whereas the
prince,,* who had always lived in a warm climate, naturally
colcluded, in the way of analogy; that there was no such
thing as water's becoming hard, because he had always observed it to be fluid and yielding; we, on the contrary, from
analogy, conclude, that there is no presumption at all against
thls; that it is supposable there may be frost in England
any  given  day in January next; probable, that there
will on some day of the month; and that there is a moral
certainty, i. e. ground for an expectation, without any doubt
of it, in some part or'other of the winter.
Probable evidence, in its very nature, affords but an imperfect kind of information, and is to be considered as rela
tive only to beings of limited capacities. For nothing which
is the possible object of knowledge, whether past, present, or
future, can be prooable to an infinite intelligence? since it
cannot but be discerned absolutely as it is in itself certainly
true, or certainly false. But to us,-probability is the very
guide of life.
From these thingis it folloWs, that in questions of difficulty, or such as are thought so, where more satisfactory ew.
denceo cannot be had, or is not seen, if the result of examhia.
tion be, that there appears, upon the whole, any the lowest
presumption on one side, and none on the other, or a greater
presamption on one side, though in the lowest degree gloa* TheStoy is told by Mr Lodke, in the chapter of 




TRno$tOUCTION.                8
ter, this determines the question, even in matters of speculation; and, in matters of practice, will lay us under an absolute and formal obligation, in point of prudence and of interest, to act upon that presumption, or low  probability,
though it be so low as to leave the mind inma very great
doubt which is the truth. For surely a man is as really
bound in prudence to do what upon the whole appears, according to the best of his judgment to be for his happiness,
as what he certainly knows to be so. Nay, further, in questions of great consequence, a reasonable man will think it
concerns him to remark lower probabilities and presumptions
than these; such as amount to no more than showing one
side of a question.to be as supposable and credible as the
other; nay, such as but amount to much less even than
this. For numberless instances might be mentioned respecting the common pursuits of life, where a n.an would be
thought, in a literal sense, distracted, who would'not act,
and with great application too, not only upon an even
chance, but upon much less, and where the probability or
chance was greatly against his succeeding?*
It is not my design to inquire further into the nature, the
foundation, and measure of probability; or whence it pro'
ceeds, that likeness should beget that presumption, opinion:
and full conviction, which tne human mind is formed to re.
ceive from it, and which it does necessarily produce in every
one; or to guard against the errors to which reasoning froml.
analogy is liable. This belongs to the subject of logic, and
is a part of this subject which has not yet been thoroughly
considered. Indeed I shall not take ripon me to say, how
far the extent, compass, arid forcet of analogical reasoning
can be reduced to general heads and rules, and the whole be
formed into a system. But though so little in this way has
been attempted by those who have treated of our intellectual powers, and the exercise of them, this does not hinder
but that we may be; as we unquestionably are, assured, that
analogy is of weight, various degrees, towards determinirg
our judgment, and our practice. lNor does it in any wise
cease to be of weight in those cases, because persons, either
given to dispute, or who require things to be stated with
greater exactness than our faculties appear to admit of in
practical matters, may find other cases, in which it is not
+* o Chap vi. Pa4 2.




82                  INTtRoDe&ttoN.
easy to say, whether it be, or be not, of any weight   a  n.,
stances of seeming analogies, which are really of norle. It
is enough to the present purpose to observe, that this general way of arguing is evidently natural, just and conclusive,
For there is no man con make a question but that the sun
will rise to-morrow, and be seen, where it is seen at all, in
the figure of a circle, and not in that of a square.
Hence, namely fom analogical reasoning, Origen* has
with singular sagacity observed, that,' he who believes thel
Scriptures to have proceeded from him  who is the Author
of nature, may well expect to find the same sort of difficulties in it, as are found in the constitution- of nature.' And,
in a like way of reflection, it may be added, that he who denies the Scripture to have been from God, upon account of
these difficulties, may for the very same reason, deny the
world to have been formed by him. On the other hand, if
there be an analogy, or likeness, between that system  of
things and dispensation of Providence which revelation in.
forms us of, and that system of things and dispensation of
Providence which experience, together with reason, informs
us of, i. e. the known course of nature; this is a presumption, that they have both the same author and cause; at
least so far as to answer objections against the former being
from God, drawn from any thing which is analogical or simi.
lar to what is in the latter, Which is acknowledged to be
from him; for an Author of nature is here supposed.
Forming our notions of the constitution and government
of the world upon reasoning, without foundation for the
principles which we' assume, whether from the attributes of
God, or any thing else, is building a world upon hypothesis,
like Des Cartes. Forming our notions upon reasoning from
principles which are certain, but applied to cases to which
we have no ground to apply them, (like those who explain
the structure of the human body, and the nature of diseases
and medicines, from mere mathematics, without sufficient
data) is an error much akin to the former: since what is assumed, in order to make the reasoning applicable; is hypotiesis. But it must be allowed just, to join abstract reasoning
with the observation of facts, and argue from such facts as
are known, to others that are like them; from that part of
the Divine government over-'intelligent creatures, 3which
* Xprl tey rot ye roy varT;ra rpaeSalpevov rs KrtoavroS toy KcooaPov sva( -ato
tag nrag ypaagr 7rs'rtaOat, brt boa r'cpt rig K7rLrSCg aravra rotsg lYjrTo' rfopL 
aiTrfw Xbyt, raurs Kxa wept trwiv ypaowv. Philocal. p. i. Ed Cdai.,




INTRODUCTION.-                   83
comes under our view, to that larger and more general g-0
vernment over them which is beyond it-; and from what is
present, to collect what is likely, credible, or not incredible.
will be hereafter.
This method, then, of concluding and determining, being
practical, and what, if we will act at all, we cannot blut act
~upon in the common pursuits of life; being evidently conclusive, in various degrees, proportionable to, the degree
and exactness of the whole analogy or likeness; and having so great authority for its introduction into the subject of
religion, even revealed religion. my design is to apply it to
that subject in general, both natural and revealed; taking
for proved, that there is an intelligent Author of Nature, and natural Governor of the world. For as there is no
presumption against this, prior to the proof of it, so it has
been often proved with accumulated evidence; from this argument of analogy and final causes; from abstract reason-.
ings; from the most ancient tradition and testimony; and
from the general consent of mankind. Nor does it appear,,
so far as I can find, to be denied by the generality of those
who profess themselves dissatisfied with the evidence ofreligion.
As there are some, who, instead of thus attending to what
is in fact the constitution of Nature, form their notions of
God's government upon hypothesis; so there are others who
indulge themselves in vain and idle speculations, how the
world might possibly have been framed otherwise than it is:
and upon supposition that things might, in imagining that
they should, have been disposed and carried on after a
better model, than what appears in the present disposition
and conduct of them. Suppose, now, a person of such a
turn of mind to go on with his reveries, till he had at length
fixed upon some particular plan of Nature, as appearing to
him the best, —one shall scarce be thought guilty of detraction against human understanding, if one should say, even
beforehand, that the plan which this speculative person
would -fix upon, though he were the Mwisest of the sons of
men, probably would not be the very best, even according to his own notion of best; whether he thought
that to be so which afforded occasions and motives for the
exercise of the greatest virtue, or which was productive of
the greatest happiness, or that these two were necessarily
connected:, and run up into one and the same plan. Howeverx:t onay not be amiss, once for all, to see what-would be




~~84          ttlRoDUrct1Io.
the amount of these emendations and imaginary imtprove.
mnents upon the system of Nature, or how far they would
mislead us. And it seems there could be no stopping, till we
came to some such conclusions as these:-That all creatures should at first be made as perfect and as happy,
as they were capable. of ever being; that nothing, to be
sure, of hazard or danger should be put upon them to
do; some indolent persons would perhaps think. nothing at
all; or certainly, that effectual care should be taken, that
they should, whether necessary or not, yet eventually and
in fact, always do what was right and most conducive to
happiness, which would be thought easy for infinite power
to effect, either by not giving them any principles which
would endanger their going wrong, or by laying the right
motive of action in every instance, before their minds continually, in so strong a manner, as would never fail of indu.
cing them to act conformably to it; and that the whole
method of government by.punishments should be rejected
as absurd; as an awkward round-about.method of carrying
things on; nay, as contrary to a principal purpose, for which
it would be supposed creatures were made, namely, hap.
piness.
Now, without considering what is to be said in particu,
lar to the several parts of this train of folly and extrava.
gance, what has been above intimated is a full, direct, gene.
ral answer to it, namely, that we may see beforehand that
we have not faculties for this kind of speculationj For
though it be admitted, that, from the first principles of
our nature, we unavoidably judge or determine some ends
to be absolutely in themselves preferable to others, and
that the ends now mentioned, or if -they run up into one,
that this one is absolutely the best, and consequently, that
we must conclude the ultimate ends designed in the con,
stitution of nature and conduct of Providence, is the most
virtue and happiness possible; yet we are -far from being
able to judge what particular disposition of things wculd
be most friendly and assistant to virtue, or what means
might be absolutely necessary to produce the most hapri.
ness in a system of such extent as our own world may be,
taking in all that is past and to come, though we Eltouird
suppose it detached from the whole of things. Indeed, awe
are so far from being able to judge of this, that we are not
judges what may be the necessary means of raising and
-Ooducting one person to the highest perfection and happiness




ItNTRODUCTOlq..                 35
of his nature. Nay, even in the little affairs of the present
life, we find men of different education and ranks are not
competent judges of-the conduct of each other. Our whole
nature leads us to ascribe all moral'perfection to God, and
to deny all imperfection in him. And this will forever be a
practical proof of his moral character, to such as will con.
eider what a practical proof is, because it is the voice of
God speaking in us. And from hence we. conclude, that
virtue must be the happiness, and vice the misery, of every
creature; and that. regularity, and order, and right, cannot
but prevail, finally; in a universe under his government.
But we are in no sort judges what are the necessary means
of accomplishing this end.
Let us, then, instead of that idle and not very innocent
employment of forming imaginary models of a world, and
schemes of governing it, turn oar thoughts to what we experience to be the conduct of Nature with respect to intelligent creatures; which maybe resolved into general laws
or rules of administration, in the same way as many of the
laws of Nature, respecting inanimate matter, may be collected from experiments. And let us compare the known
constitution and course of things with what ig said to be the
moral system of Nature, the acknowledged dispensations of
Providence, or that government which we find ourselves
under, with what religion teaches us to believe and expect,
and see whether they are not analogous, and of a piece.
And upon such a comparison it will, I think, be found, that
they are very much so; that both may be traced up to the
same general laws, and resolved into the same principles of
Divine conduct.
The analogy here proposed to be considered, is of pretty
large extent; and consists of several parts; in some more,
in others less, exact. In some few instances, perhaps, it
may amount to a real practical plroof, in others not so; yet
in these it is a confirmation,of what is proved otherwise. It
will undeniably show, what too niany want to have shown
them, that the system of religion, both natural and revealed,
considered only as a system, and prior to the proof of it, is
not a subject of ridicule, unless that of nature be so too.
Ani it will afford an answer to alnost all objections against
the system both of natu ral arnd of revealed religion, though
not perhaps an answer in so great a degree, yet in a very
considerable degree an answer, to the objections against the
evidence of it-; for, objections against a proof, and objections




36                 INTROD'MCTION.
against what is said to be proved, the reader will observe,
are different things.
Now, the divine government of the world, implied in the
notion of religion in general, and of Christianity, contains
ill it,-That mankind is appointed to live in a future state;'
that there every one shall be rewarded or punished; t rewarded or punished respectively for all that behaviour here
which we, comprehend under the words, virtuous or vicious,
morally good or evil:   that our present life is a probation,
a state of trial,~ and of discipline, i1 for that future one;
notwithstanding the objections which men may fancy they
have, from notions of necessity, against there being any.such moral plan as this at all;'T a.nd whatever objections
may appear to lie against the wisdom and goodness of it, as
it stands so imperfectly made known to us at present:-~ @
that this world being in a state of apostacy and wickedness,
and consequently of ruin, and. the sense both of their condition and duty being greatly corrupted amongst men, this
gave occasion for an additional dispensation of Providence,
of the utmost importance, ~t  proved by miracles;  J  but
containing in it many things appearing to us strange, and
not to have been expected; ~ ~ a dispensation of Providence,
which is a scheme or system of things' II II carried on by the
mediation of a Divine person. the Messiah, in order to the
recovery of the world: IT T yet not revealed to all men, nor
proved with the strongest possible evidence to all those to
whom it is revealed; but only to such a part of mankind,
and with such particular evidence, as the wisdom of God
thought fit.1 A t The design, then, of the following Treatise
will be to show, that the several parts principally objected
against in his moral and Christian dispensation, including
its scheme, its publication, and the proof which God has afforded us of its truth; that the particular parts principally
objected against in this whole dispensation, are analogous to
what is experienced in the constitution and course of Nature,
or Providence; that the chief objections themselves, which
are alleged against the former, are no other than what may
be alleged with like justness against the latter, where they
are found in fact to be inconclusive; and that this argument.
from analogy, is in general unanswerable, and undoubtedly
*Ch. i.'         Ch. it.         Ch. ii i.
5 Ch. iv.       ii Ch. v.          ~ Ch vi
**Ch vii         t t Part I. ch. i.    **Ch. i. tCh. fii.      I lCh. iv.   I ~Chv. *Ch. vv.  *Ch  t i




INTRODUCTION.                   37
-of weight on the side of religion,-. notwithstanding the objections which may seem to lie against it, and the real
ground which there may be for difference of opiniotn as to
the particular degree of weight which is to. be laid -upon it,
This is a general account of what may be looked for in the
following Treatise.  And I shall begin it with that which is
the foundation of all our hopes, and of all our fears-all our
hopes and fears) which are of any consideration-I mean,
a future life.
4' Oh, viii.








THE
ANALOGY
OF
RELIGI ON
TO THE
CONSTITUTION AND COURSE OF NATURE.
PART I.
OF NATURAL RELIGION.
CHAP. I.
Of a Future Life.
STRANGE difficulties have been raided by some concerning personal identity, or the sameness of living agents, implied in the notion of our existing now and hereafter, or in
any two successive moments; which whoever thinks it
worth while, may see considered in the first Dissertation at
the end of this Treatise. But, without regard to any of
them here, let us consider what the analogy of Nature, and
the several changes which we have undergone, and those
which we know we may undergo without being destroyed,
suggest, as to the effect which death may, or may not,
have upon us; and whether it be not from thence probable,
that we may survive this change, and exist in a future state
of life and perception.
I. From our being born into the present world in the helpless imperfect state of infancy, and having arrived from
thence to mature age, we find it to be a general law of nature
in our -own species, that the same creatures, the sam~




40                OF A FUTURE LIFE.            [PART 1.
individuals, should exist in degrees of life and perception,
with capacities of action, of enjoyment, and suffering, in
one period of their being, greatly different from  those appointed them in another period of it. And in other creatures
the same law holds.  For the difference of their capacities
and states of life at their birth (to go no higher) and in ma.
rurity; the change of worms into flies, and the vast enlargement of their locomotive powers by such change; and birds
and insects bursting the shell, their habitation, and by this
rheans entering into a new world, furnished with new accommodations for them; and finding a new sphere of action
assigned them; —these are instances of this general law of
nature.  Thus, all the various and wonderful transformations of animals are to be taken into consideration here.
But the states of life in which we ourselves existed formerly, in the womb and in our infancy, are almost as different from our present, in mature age, as it is possible to
onceive any two states or degrees of life can be. There-'fore, that we are to exist hereafter in a state as different
(suppose) from our present, as this is from our former, is but
according to the analogy df nature; according to a natural
order or appointment, of the very same kind with what we
ihave already experienced.
II. We kniow we are endued with capacities of action, of
happiness, and misery; for we are conscious of acting, of
enjoying pleasure, and suffering pain.  Now, that we have
these powers and capacities before death, is a presumption
that we shall retain them through and after death', indeed,
a probability of it abundantly sufficient to act upon, unless
there be some positive reason to think that death is the de,
struction of those living powers; because there is in every
case a probability, that all things will continue as we experience they are, in all respects, except those in which we
have some reason to think they will be altered.  This is
that kinds of presumption, or probability, fromn  analogy,
expressed in the very word continuance, which seems our
only natural reason for believing the course of the world will
continue to-morrow, as it has done so far as our experience
or knowledge of history can carry us back.  Nay, it seerams
our only reason for believing, that any one substance, now
* I say kind of presumption or probability; for 1 do not mean to affirm,
that there is t1he same degree of conviction that our living powers wille.o
tinue after death, as there is, that our subasriw will,




CHAP. I.]           OF A FUTURE LIFE.                     41
existing, will continue to exist a moment longer; the selW
existent substance only excepted.  Thus, if men Nwere as:
sured that the unknown event, death, was not the destruction of our faculties of perception and of action, there would
be no apprehension that any other power or event, unconnected with this of death, would destroy these faculties just
at the instant of each creature's death; and therefore no
doubt but that they would remain after it: which sho.-gs
the high -probability that our living powers will continutb.
after death, unless there be some ground to think that deatlf
is their destruction.: For, if it would be in a manner certain
that we should survive 4death, provided it were certain that
death would not be our.destruction, it must be highly probable we shall survive it, if there be no ground to think death
will be our destruct'on.
Now, though I think it must be acknowledged, that prior
to the natural and moral proofs of a future life commonly
insisted upon, there would arise a general confused suspicion, that, in the great shock and alteration which we shall
undergo by death, we, i. e. our living powers, might be
wholly destroyed; yet even prior to those proofs,. there is
really no particular distinct ground, or reason, for this apprehension at all, so far as I can find. If there be, it must
arise either fromn the reason of the thing, or from  the aaaiogy
of J.Vature.
But we cannot argue from  the reason. of the thing, that
death is the destruction of living agents, because we knoNw
not at all what death is in itself; but only some of its effectsI
such as the dissolution of flesh, sktn, and bones: and these
effects do in no wise appear to imply the destruction of a
living agent. And, besides, as we are oreatly in the dark
upon what the exercise of our living powers depends, so we
are wholly ignorant what the -powers themselves depend
upon; the: powers themselves, as distinguished, not only
* Destruction of living powers, is a manner of expression unavoidably
ambiguous and may signify either the destruction of a living being, so
as that the saine living being shall be incapable of ever. perceiving or
a-ting again at all; or the destruction of those means and instruments
by which it is capable of its present life, of its present state of percept"ion
and of action. It is here used in the former sense. When it is used in the
latter, the epithet present is added. The loss of a man's eye is a destruction
of living powers in the latter sense. But we have no reason to think the destruction of living powers, in the former sense, to be possible. We have no
more reason to think a being, endued with living powers, ever loses them
4uring its whole existence, than to believe that a stone ever acquires them;




42               OF A FUTURE LIFEL.          ICHAP. 1.
from their actual exercise, but also from the present capacity of exercising them; and opposed to their destruction;
for sleep, or, however, a swoon, shows us, not only that
these powers exist when they are not exercised, as the
passive power of motion does in inanimate matter; but
shows also that they exist, when there is no present capacity of exercising them; or that the capacities of exercising
them for the present, as well as the actual exercise of them,
xnay be suspended, and yet the powers themselves remain
ndestroyed. Since, then, we know not at all upon what
the existence of our living powers depends, this shows further, there can no probability be collected from the reason
of the thing, that death will be their destruction: because
their existence may depend upon somewhat in no degree
affected by dceath;.upon somewhat quite out of the reach of
this king of terrors. So that there is nothing more certain,
than that the reason of the thing shows us no connexion
between death and the destruction of living agents. Nor
can we find any thing throughout the whole analogy of
NPature, to afford us even the slightest presumption, that
animals ever lose their living powers; much less, if it were
possible, that they lose them by death; for we have no
faculties wherewith to trace any beyond or through it, so as
to see what becomes of theni. This event removes them
firom our view. It destroys the sensible proof, which we had
before their death, of their being possessed of living powers,
but does not appear to. afford the least reason to believe,
that they are then, or by that event, deprived of them.
And our knowing, that they were possessed of these
powers, up to the very period to which we have faculties
capable of tracing them, is itself a probability of their retaining them beyold it. And this is confirmed, and a sensible
credibility is given to it, by aobserving the very great and
astonishing changes which we have experienced; so great,
that our existence in another state of life, of perception and
of action, will be but according to a method of providential
conduct, the like to which has been already exercised, even
with regard to ourselves; according to a course of nature,
the like to which we have already gone through.
However, as one cannot but be greatly sensible, how
difficult it is to silence imagination enough to make the
voice of reason even distinctly heard in this case; as we are
accustomed, from our youth up, to indulge that forward
delusive faculty, ever obtruding beyond its sphere; of some




PART I.]         OF A FUTURE LIFE.                  43
assistance, indeed, to apprehension, but the author of all
error: as we plainly lose ourselves in gross and crude conceptions of things, taking for granted that we are acq uaint.
ed with what indeed we are wholly ignorant of; it may be
proper to consider the imaginary presumptions, that death
will be our destruction, arising from these kinds of early and
lasting prejudices; and to show how little they can really
amount to; even though we cannot wholly divest ourselves
of them. And
I. All presumption of death's being the destruction of living beings, must go upon supposition that they are compounded, and so discerptible.  But, since consciousness is a
single and individual power, it should seem that the subject
in which it resides, must be so too. For, were the motion
of any particle of matter absolutely one and indivisible, so as
that it should imply a contradiction to suppose part of this
motion to exist, and part not to exist i. e. part of this matter
to move, and part to be at rest; then its power of motion
would be indivisible; and so also would the subject in which
the power inheres, namely, the particle of matter: for, if
this could be divided into two, one part might be moved and
the other at rest, which is contrary to the supposition. In
like manner, it has been argued, " and, for any thing appearing to the contrary, justly, that since the perception, or
consciousness, which we have of our own existence is indi- ~
visible, so as that it is a contradiction to suppose one part of
it should be here and the other there; the perceptive power,
or the power of consciousness, it indivisible too; and, consequently, the subject in which it resides, i. e. the conscious
being. Now, upon supposition that living agent each man
calls himself, is thus a single being, which there is at least
no more difficulty in conceiving than in conceiving it to be a
compound, and of which there is the proof now mentioned;
it follows, that our organized bodies are no more ourselves,.
or part of ourselves, than any other matter around us. And
it is as easy to conceive how matter, which is.. no part of:
ourselves, may be appropriated to us in the manner which
our present bodies are, as how we can receive impressions
from, and have power over any matter. It is as easy to
conceive, that we may exist out of bodies, as in them; that
we might have animated bodies of any other organs and
sensees wholly different from these now given us, and that
* See Dr Clarke's Letter to Mr Dodwell, and the Defences of it




44                Of A FUTURE1 1  Li           t~CHA, I
we may nereafter animate these same or new bodies vari
cusly nmodified and organized, as to conceive how we can
animate such bodies as our present.  And, lastly, the dissoi
lution of all these several organized bodies, supposing our.
selves to have successively animated them, would have no
more conceivable tendency to destroy the iiving beings, our.
selves, or deprive us of living faculties, the faculties of perception and of action, than the dissolution of any foreign
miatter, which we are capable of receiving impressions from,
ancd making use of for the common occasions of life.
II. The simplicity and absolute oneness of a living agent
cannot, indeed, from the nature of the thing, be properly
proved by experimental observations. -Bit as these fall
in with the supposition of its unity. so they plainly lead us
to conclude certainly, that our gross organized bodies, with
which we perceive the objects of sense, and with which we
act, are no part of ourselves, and therefore show us, that
we have no reason to believe their destruction to be ours;
even without determihmng whether our living substances be
material or immaterial.  For we see by experience, that
men may lose their limbs, their organs of sense, and even
Lte greatest part of these bodies, and yet remain the same
living agents: And persons can trace up the existence of
themselves to a time when the bulk of their bodies was extremely small, in comparison of what it is in mature age;
and we cannot but think, that they might then have lost a
considerable part of that small body, and yet have remained
the same living agents, as they may now lose great part of
their present body, and remain so. And it is certain, that
the bodies of all animals are in a constant flux, from that
never ceasing attrition which there is in every part of them.
Now, things of this kind unavoidably teach us to distinguish
between these living agents, ourselves, and large quantities
of matter, in which we are very nearly interested: since
these may be alienated, and actually are in a daily course
of succession, and changing their owners; whilst we are
assured, that each living agent remains one and the same
permanent being)?  And this general observation leads us
on to the following ones.
First, That we have no way of determining by experience, what is the certain bulk of the living being each
man calls himself; and yet, till it be determined that it is
* See Dissertation I,




CHAP. I.]        oF A FUTUt P, LIIF.               45
larger in bulk than the solid elementary particles of matter,
whtch there is no ground to think any natural power can
dissolve, there is no sort of reason to think death to be the
dissolution of it, of the living being, even though it should
not be absolutely indiscerptible.
Secondly, From our being so nearly related to, and interested in certain systems of'matter, suppose our flesh and
bones, afterwards ceasing to be at all related to them, the
living agents, ourselves, remaining all this while undestroyed, notwithstanding such alienations: and consequently
these systems of matter not being ourselves; it follows further, that we have no ground to conclude any other, suppose
internal systems of matter, to be the living agents ourselves;
because we can have no ground to conclude this, but from
our relation to, and interest in such other systems of matter:
and, therefore, we can have no reason to conclude, what
befalls those systems of matter at death, to be the destruction
of the living agents. WCTe have already, several times over,
lost a great part, or perhaps the whole of our body, according to certain common established laws of nature; yet we
remain the same living agents: when we shall lose as great
a part, or the whole, by another common established law'of
nature, death, why may we not also remain the same $
That the alienation has been gradual in one case, and in th~
other will be more at once, does not prove any thing to the
contrary.  We have passed undestroyed through those
many and great revolutions of matter, so peculiarly appro.
priated to ourselves; why should we imagine dearth would
be so fatal to us'  Nor can it be objected, that what is thus
alienated, or lost, is no part of our original solid body, but
only adventitious matter; because we may lose entire limbs,
which must have contained many solid parts and vessels of
the original body: om if this be not admitted, we have no
proof that any of -these solid parts are dissolved or alienated
by death; though, by the way, we are very nearly related
to that extrlaneous or adventitious matter, wlhist- it continues
anited to and distending the several parts of our solid body.
But, after all, the relation a person bears to those parts of
his body to which he is the most nearly related, what does
it appear to amount to but this, that the living agent and
those parts of the body mutually affect each other. And
the same thing, the same thing in kind, though not in degree, may be said of all foreign matter, which gives us
ideas, and which we have any power over. From these




46                OF A FUTURE LIFE.             [PART I
observations the whole ground of the imagination is removed, that the dissolution of any matter is the destruction of
a living agent, from the interest he once had in such matter,
Tilirdly, If we consider our body somewhat more distinctly, as made up of organs and instruments of perception and
of motion, it will bring us to the same conclusion. Thus,
the common optical experiments show, and even the observation how sight is assisted by glasses shows, that we see
with our eyes in the same sense as we see with glasses.
Nor is there any reason to believe, that we see with them in
any other sense; any other, I mean, which would lead us
to think the eye itself a percipient.  The like is to be said
of hearing: and our feeling distant sdlid matter by means
of somewhat in our hand, seems an instance of the like kind,
as to the subject we are consilering. All these are instances
of foreign matter, or such as is no part of our body, being
instrumental in preparing objects for, and conveying them to
the perceiving power, in a manner similar, or like to the
manner in which our organs of sense prepare and cornvey
them.  Both are, in a like way, instruments of our receiving such ideas from external olbjects, as the Author of nature appointed those external objects to be the occasions of
exciting in us. However, glasses are e-videlctly instances
o this; namely, of matter, which is no part of our body, preparing objects for; and conveying them towards the perceiving power, in like manner as our' bodily organs do. And if
we see with our eyes only in the same omaner as we do with
glasses, the like may justly be concluded from analogy, of
all our other senses.  It is not intended, by any thing here
said, to affirm, that the whole apparatus of vision, r- of per
ception by any other of our senses, can be traced, through
all its steps, quite up to the living pCawer of seeing, or perceiving; lut that, so far as it can be traced by experimental
observations, SG far it appears, that our organs of sense prepare and convey'n ob jects, in order to their being perceived,
in like manner as foreign matter does, without affording a ny
shadow of appearance, that they themselves perceive. A.nd
that we have no reason to, think our organs of sense percipients, is confirmed. by instances of persons losing some of
them, the living beings themselves, their former occupiers,
remaining unimpaired.  It is confirmed. also-by the experi.
ence of' dzeams; by which we find, we aMre at present pos.
sessed of a latent, and what would otherwise be an unima.
gined unknown power of perceiving sensible objects, in. a



CUAP. I]          OF A FUTURE LIFE.                    47
strong and lively a manner without our external organs of
sense., as with them.
So also with regard to our power, of moving, or. directing
motion by will and choice: upon the destruction cf a limb,
this active power remains, as it evidently seems, unlessened;
so as that the living being,-"who has suffered this loss, wr-vuld
be capable of moving as before, if it had another limb to
moie with.  It can walk by thle help of an artificial leg,
just as it can make use of a pole or a lever, to reach towards
itself and to move things beyond the length and the poxter
of its natural armn: and this last it does in the same manner
as it reaches and moves, with its natural arm, things neare;
and of less weight.  Nor is there so much as any appearance of' our limbs being endued with a power of moving ot
directing themselves; though they are adapted, like the several parts of a machine, to be the instruments of motion to
each other; and some pairts of tlhe samle limb, to be instruments of mrotion to the other Farts of it.
Thus, a man determines tha:. he will look at such an obh
ject through a microscope; or, being lame suppose, that he
will wattlk to such a place with ca staPf' a week hence.  His
eyes and his feet no more determine in these cases, than the
m1nicroscope and the staff.  Nor is there any ground to think
they any more put the determn-ination in the practice, or that
]lis eves are the seers; or his feet the mnovers, in any other.-rense thllan as the microscope and the staff are.  Upon the
whole, then, our organs of sense and our limbs are certainly
i[struments, which the livir-g persons, ourselves,  make' use
of to perceive and move w-i:h.  There is not any probability,
that they are any more  nor, consequently., that we have
any other kind of relation to them, than what we may have
to any other foreign matter formed into instruments of perception and motion, suppose into a microscope or a staff' (
say, any other kind of relation, for I am not speaking of the
degree of it: nor, consequently, is there any probabllity,
that the alienation or dissolution of these instruments is the
destruction of the perceiving and moving agent..
And thus our finding, that the dissolution of matter in,vhich living beings were most nearly interested, is not their
dissolution; and that the destruction of several of the organs and instruments of perception and of mrotion belonging to IhLem, is not their destruction; shows, demonstratively, that there is no ground to think, that the dissolution
of any other matter or destruction of any other organs




1:          POF A FPTU[tE LIPE.        LPAIRT I.
and instruments, will be the dissolution or destruction
of living agents, fiom the like kind of relation. And we
have no reason to think we stand in any other kind of
relation to any thing which we find dissolved by death.
But it is said, these observations are equally applicable tc
brutes;:and it is thought an insuperable difficulty, that
they should -be immortal, and, by consequence, capable of
cverlasting happiness.  Now, this manner of expression is
both invidious and weak: but the thing intended by it, is
really no difficulty at all, either in the way of natural or
moral consideration.  For,- 1st, Suppose the invidious thing,
designed in such a manner of expression, were really implied, as it is not in the least, in the natural immortality of
brutes; namely, that they must arrive at great attainments,
a.ni become rational and moral agents; even this would be
no difficulty, since we know not what latent powers and
capacities they may be endued with. There was once, pri
or to experience, as' great presumption against huian creatures, as there is against the brute creatures, arriving at
that degree of understanding which we have in mature age;
for we can trace up our own existance to the same original
with theirs.  And we find it to be a general law of nature,
that creatures endued with capacities of virtue and religion,
should be placed in a condition of being, in which they are
altogether without the use of them for a considerable length
of their duration, as in infancy and childhood. And great
part of the human species go out of the present world, before they come to the exercise of these capacities in any de.
gree at all. But then, 2dly, The natural immortality of
brutes does not in the least imply, that they are endued with
any latent capacities of a rational or moral nature. And
the economy of the universe might require;; that there should
be living creatures without any capacities of this kind,
And all difficulties, as to the manner how they are to be disposed of, are so apparently and wholly founded on our ignorance, that it is wonderfiul they should be insisted upon by any,
but such as are weak enough to think they are acquainted
with the whole system of things. There is, then, absolute.
ly nothing at all in this objection, which is so rhetorically
urged against the greatest part of the natural proofs or presumptions of the immortality of human minds:  I say the
greatest part; for it is lessdapplicable to the following ob.
servation, which is more peculiar to mankind:II. That as it is evident our present powers arcd capaci



CHAP. L]          OF A FUTURt LIFE.                   49
ties of reason, memory, and affection, do not depend upon
our gross body, in the manner in which perception by our
organs of sense does.; so they do not appear to depend upon
it at all in any such manner, as to give ground to think, that
the dissolution of this body will be the destruction of these
our present powers of reflection, as it will of oui powers of
sensation; or to give ground to conclude, even that it v1ll
be so much as a suspension of the former.
Human creatures exist at present in two states of life
and perception, greatly different from each other; each of
which has its own peculiar laws) and its o.vn peculiar en.
joyments and sufferings. When any of our senses. are
affected, or appetites gratified with the objects of them, we
may be said to exist, or live) in a state of sensation. When
none of our senses are affected, or appetites gratified, and
yet we perceive, and reason, and act, we may be said to ex.
ist, or live, in a state of reflection. Now ift is by no means
certain, that any thing which is dissolved by death is any
way necessary to the living being, in this its state of reflection, after ideas are gained. For though, from our present
constitution and condition of being, our external organs of
sense are'necessary for conveying in ideas -to our reflecting
powers, as carriages, and levers, and scaffolds are in architecture; yet, when these ideas are brought in, we are capable of reflecting in the most intense degree, and of enjoying
the greatest pleasure, and feeling the greatest pain, by
means of that reflection, without any assistance from our
senses; and without any at all, which we, know of, from
that body, which will be dissolved by death.  It does not
appear, then, that the relation of this gross body to the reflecting being, is in any degree, necessary to thinking; tq'
our intellectual enjoyments or sufferings: nor, consequently,
that the dissolution, or alienation of the former by death, will
be the destruction of those present powers, which render us
capable of this state of reflection. Further, there are in.
stances of moral diseases, which do not at all affect our
present intellectual powers; and this affords a presumption,
that those diseases will- not destroy these present powers.
Indeed, from the observations made above, it appears, that
there is no presumption, from their mutually affecting each
other, that the dissolution of the body is the destruction of




50               OF A. FUTURE LIFE.           [PART I,
the living agent. And by the same reasoning it must ap.
pear, too, that there is no prcsumpi.ion, from their nutiually
affecting each other, that the dissolution of the body is the
destruction of our present reflecting powers; but instances
of their-not affecting each other, afford a presumption of the
contrary. Instances of mortal disease not impairing our
present reflecting powers, evidently turn our thoughts even
from imagining such diseases to be the destruction of them.
Several things, indeed, greatly affect all our living powers;
and at length, suspend the exercise of them; as, for in.
stance, drowsiness, increasing till it ends in sound sleep:
and from hence we might have imagined it would destroy
them, till we found, by experience, the weakness of this way
of judging. But, in the diseases now mentioned, there is not
so much as the shadow of probability, to lead us to any
such conclusion, as to the reflecting, powers which we have
at present; for, in those diseases, persons the moment before
death appear to be in the highest vigor of life. They discover apprehension, memory, reason, all entire; with the
utmost force of affection; sense of a character, of shame
and hoinor; and the highest mental enjoyments and sufferings, even to the last gasp: and these surely prove even
greater vigor of life than bodily strength does. Now, what
pretence is there for thinking, that a progressive disease,
when arrived to such a degree, I mean that degree which
is mortal, will destroy those powers, which were not impaired, which were not affected by it, during its whole progress,
quite up to that degree? And if death, by diseases of this
kind, is not the destruction of our present reflecting powers,
it will scarce be thought that death by any other means is.
It is obvious that this general observation may be carried
on further: and there appears so little connexion between
our bodily powers of sensation,- and our present powers of
reflection, that there is no reason to conclude that death,
which destroys the former, does so much as suspend the
exercise of the latter, or interrupt our continuing to exist in
the like state of reflection which we do now. For, suspen.
sion of reason, memory, and the affections which they excite, is no part of the idea of death, nor is implie  in out
notion of it. And our daily experiencing these powers to be
exercised, without any assistance, that we know of, from
those bodies which will be dissolved by death; and our finding often, that the exercise of them is so lively to the last;these things afford a sensible apprehension, that death may




CHAP. I.]           OF A FUTURE LIFE.                        51
not perhaps be so much as a discontinuance of the exeicise
of these powers, nor of the enjoyments a'nd sufferings which
it implies;- so that our posthumous life, whatever there may
be in it additional to our present, yet may not be entirely beginning anew, but going on.  Death may, in some sort, and
in some respects, answer to our birth, which is not a suspension of the faculties which we had before it, or a total
change of the state of life in which we existed when in the
womb, but a continuation of both, with such and such great.alterations.
Nay, for ought we'know of ourselves, of our present life,
and of death, death may immediately, in the natural course
of things, put us into a higher and more enlarged state of
life, as our birth does;f a state in which our capacities and.
sphere of perception, and of action, may be much greater
than at present. For, as our relation to our external organs
of sense renders us capable of existing in our present state
of sensation, so it may be the only natural hindrance to our
existing, immediately and of course, in a higher state of reflection.  The truth is, reason does not at all show us in
what state death naturally leaves us. But were we sure
that it would suspend all our perceptive and active powers,
yet the suspension of a power, and the destruction of it, are
effects so totally different in kind, as we experience from
sleep and a swoon, that we cannot in any wise argue from
one to the other; or conclude, even to the lowest degree of
probability, that the same kind of force which is sufficient to
suspend our faculties, though it be, increased ever so much,
will be sufficient to destroy them.
These observations together may be sufficient to show,
how little presumption there is that death is the destruction
* There are three distinct questl.ns, relating to a future life, here considered: Whether death be the destruction of living agents!? If not
Whether it be the destruction of their present powers of reflection, as it
oertainly is the destruction of their present powers of sensation? And if
not, W'hether it be the suspension, or discontinuance of the exercise, of
these present reflecting powers? Now, if there he no reason to btieve
the last, there will be, if that were possible, less for the next, and less still
for the first.
t This, according to Strabo, was the opinion of the Brahmans: vopustLY ILsEY  ap Jtri royv per sEOa& /tov3s  ca azyrpV KvoejVOryV Mvyae rov Je Oavarov,
yevals EgS sOv oVrr)g 310, Ka r vo evatporva TOLr OewoaoprtaLt. Lib. X V. p.
1039. Ed. Amst. 1707. To which opinion perhaps Antoninus may
allude in these words, t  e vev pleqEicC, trore EclppvOU E~ rN. yaarpor rrlS
yvPalkog a's ~eAe kOqrrog sr EXae'O0at'r, topav v  ro lvXaptov as- rsurp
rTw am,'~t:atCl.'ib. IX. c. 3.




.52              OF A FUTURE LIFE.          LPART t
of human creatures. However, there is the shadow of an
analogy, which may lead us to imagine it is; the supposed
likeness which is observed between the decay of vegetables
and of living creatures. And this likeness is indeed sufficient to afford the poets very apt allusions to the flowers of
the field, in their pictures of the frailty of our present life.
But, in reason, the analogy is so far from holding, that there
appears no ground even for the comparison, as to the present,
question; because one of the two subjects compared is
wholly void of that, which is the principle and chief thing in
the other, the power of perception and' action; and which is
the only thing we are inquiring about the continuance of.
So that the destruction of a vegetable is an event not sirnilar, or analogous, to the destruction of a living agent.
But if, as was above intimated, leaving off the delusive
custom of substituting imagination in the room of experience, we would confine ourselves to what we do know and
understand; if we would argue only from that, and from
that form our expectations, it would appear, at first sight,
that as no probability of living beings ever ceasing to be so,
can be concluded from the reason of the thing; so none
can be collected from the analogy of nature; because we
cannot trace anyliving beings beyond death. But as we
are conscious that we are endued with capacities of percep
tion and of action, and are living persons, what we are to
go upon is, that we shall continue so till we foresee some
accident, or event, which will endanger those capacities, or
be likely to destroy us; which death does in no wise appear
to be.
And thus, when we go out of this world, we may pass
Into new scences, and a new state of life and action, just as
naturally as we came into the present. And this new state
may naturally be a social one. And the advantages of it, ad.
vantages of every kind, may naturally be bestowed, according
to some fixed general laws of wisdom, upon every one in proportion to the degrees of his virtue. And though the advantages of that future natural state should not be bestowed, as these
of the present in some measure are, by the will of the society,
but entirely by his more immediate action, upon whom  the
whole frame of nature depends, yet this distribution may be,
just as natural, as their being distributed here by the instru.
mentality of men. And, indeed, though one were to allow
any confused undetermined sense, which people please to put
upon the word natural, it would be a shortness of thought




CAP. -I.]         OF A FUTURE LIFE.                  53
scarce credible to imagine, that no system or course of things
can be so, but only what we see at present;? especially
whilst the probability of a future life, or the natural immortulity of the soul, is admitted upon the evidence of reason;
because this is really both admitting and denying at once, a
state of being different from the present to be natural. But
the only di 3tinct meaning of that word is, stated, fixed, or settled; since what is natural as much requires, and presupposes an intelligent agent to render it so, i. e. to effect it continually, or at stated times, as what is supernatural or miraculous does to effect it for once. And from hence it must,
follow, that persons' notion of what is natural will be enlarged, in proportion to their greater knowledge of the works of
God and the dispensations of his Providence. Nor is there
any absurdity in supposing, that there may be beings in the
universe, whose capacities, and knowledge, and views, may
be so extensive, as that the whole Christian dispensation may
to them appear natural, i. e. analogous or conformable to
God's dealings with other parts of his creation, as natural as
the visible known course of things appears to us. For there
seems scarce any other possible sense to be put upon the
word, but that only in which it is here used; similar, stated,
or uniform.
This credibility of a future life, which has been here insisted upon, how little soever it may satisfy our curiosity,
seems to answer all the purposes of religion, in like manner
as a demonstrative proof would. Indeed, a proof, even a demonstrative one, of a future life, would not be a proof of religion. For, that we are to live hereafter, is just as reconciliable with the scheme of atheism, and as well to be accounted
for by it, as that we are now alive is; and therefore nothing
can be more absurd than to argue from that scheme, that
there can be no future state.  But as religion implies a future state, any presumption against such a state is a pregumption against religion. And the foregoing observations
remove all presumptions of that sort, and prove, to a very
considerable degree of probability, one fundamental doctrine
of religion; which if believed, would greatly open and dispose the mind seriously to attend to the general evidence of
the whole.
* Sea Part ii. ch. 2. and Part ii. ch. 3.




54          OF THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD          [PART I
CHAPTER  11.
Of thI  Government of God by Revwards and P)unishments;
and particularly of the latter.
TIIAT which makes the question concerning abfuture life
to be of so great importance to us, is our capacity of happiness and misery. And that which makes the consideration
of it to be of so great importance to us, is the supposition of
our happiness and misery hereafter, depending upon our actions here. Without this, indeed, cu'iosity could not but
sometimes bring a subject, in which we may be so highly
interested, to our thoughts; especially upon the mortality
of others, or the near prospect of our own. But reasonable
men would not take any farther thought about hereafter,
than what should happen thus occasionally' to rise in their
minds, if it were certain that our future interest no way depend upon our present behaviour; whereas, on the contrary,
if there be ground, either from analogy or any thing else, to
think it *does, then there is reason also for the most active
thought and solicitude to secure that interest; to behave so
as that we may escape that misery, and obtain that happiness in another life, which we not only suppose ourselves
capable of, but which we apprehend also is put in our own
power. And whether there be ground for this last apprehension, certainly would deserve to be most seriously consi,
dered were there no other proof of a future life, and interest
than that presumptive one which the foregoing observations
amount to.
Now, in the present state, all which we enjoy, and a great
art of what we suffer, is put in our own potwer. For pleasure and pain are the consequences of our actions; and we
iare endued by the Author of our nature with capacities 6f,foreseeing these consequences. We find, by experience, he
does not so much as preserve our lives exclusively of our own
care and attention to provide ourselves with, and to make




CHAP. II.]  BY REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS.           55
use of, that sustenance, by which he has appointed our lives
shall be preserved, and without which he has appointed they
shall not be preserved at all. And in general we foresee, that
the external things, which are the objects of our various passions, can neither be obtained nor enjoyed, without exerting
ourselves in such and such manners; but by thus exerting
ourselves, we obtain and enjoy, these objects, in which our
natural good consists, or by this means God gives us the pos.
session and enjoyment of them. I know not that we have
any one kind or degree of enjoyment, but by the means of
our own actions. And by prudence and care, we may, for
the most part, pass our days in tolerable ease and quiet: or,
on the contrary, we may, by rashness, ungoverned passion,
wilfulness, or even by negligence, make ourselves as miserable as ever we please. And many do please to make themselves.extremely miserable, i. e. to do what they know beforehand will render them so. They follow those ways, the
fruit of which they know, by instruction, example, experience, will be disgrace, and, poverty, and sickness, and
untimely death. This every one observes to be the general
course of things; though it is to be allowed, we cannot find
by experience, that all our sufferings are owing to our own
follies.
Why the Author of Nature does not give his creatures
promiscuously such and such perceptions, without regard to
their behaviour; why he does not make them happy withouit the instrumentality of their own actions, and prevent
their bringing -any sufferings upon themselves, is another
matter. Perhaps there may be some impossibilities in the
nature of things, which we are unacquainted with;? Or less
happiness, it may be, would, upon the whole, be produced
by such a method of conduct, than is by the present: Or,
perhaps, divine goodness, with which, if I mistake not, we
make very free in our speculations, may not be a bare single
disposition to produce happiness; but a disposition to make
the good, the faithful, the honest man, happy. Perhaps an
infinitely perfect Mind may be pleased with seeing his crew,
tures behave suitably to the nature which he has given them;
to the relations which he has placed them in to each other;
and to that which they stand in to himself; that relation to
himself which, during their existence, is even necessary, and
which is the most important one of all. Perhaps, I say, an
* Pa   chep 7




.d          oF THE tO6VRXnMtNT oV GOiD    PriAkr l
infinitely perfect Mind may be pleased with this moral piety
of moral agents, in and for itself, as well as upon account of
its being essentially conducive to the happiness of his creation. Or the whole end, for which God made, and thus governs the world, may be utterly beyond the reach of our faculties: There may be somewhat in it as impossible for us
to have any conception of, as for a blind man to have a conception of colors., But however this be, it is certain matter
of universal experience, that the general method of divine administration is, forewarning us, or giving us capacities tofore.
see, with more or less clearness, that if we act so and so, we
shall have such enjoyments, if so and so, such sufferings; and
giving us those enjoyments, and making us feel those suffer
ings, in consequence of our actions.'But all this is to be ascribed to the general course of nature.' True. This is the very thing which I am observing. It is to be ascribed to the general course of nature;
i. e. not surely to the words, or ideas, Course of nature, but
to him who appointed it, and put things into it; or to a
course of operation, from its uniformity or consistency, called natural,  and which necessarily implies an operating
agent. For when men find themselves necessitated to confess an Author of Nature, or that God is the natural govenor of the world, they must not deny this again, because
his government is uniform; they must not deny that he
does all things at all, because he does them constantly; because the effects of his acting are permanent, whether his
acting be so or not; though there is no reason to think it is
not. In short, every man, in every thing he does, naturally
acts upon the forethought and apprehension of avoiding
evil, or obtaining good: and if the natural course.of things
be the appointment of God, and our natural faculties of
knowledge and experience are given us by him, then the
good and bad consequences which follow our actions are his
appointment, and our foresight of those consequences is a
warning given us by him, how we are to act.'Is the pleasure, then, naturally accompanying every parti.
cular gratification of passion, intended to put us upon gratifying ourselves in every such particular instance, and as a
reward to us for so doing.' No, certainly. Nor is it to be
said, that our eyes were naturally intended to give us the
sight of each particular object to which they do or can ex




CHAP. II.]  BY REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS.           b
tend; objects which are destructive of them, or which, for any
other reason, it may become us to turn our eyes from. Yet
there is no doubt, but that our eyes were intended for us to
see wiih. So neither is there any doubt, but that the foreseen
pleasures-and pains, belonging to the passions, were intended, in general, to induce mankind to act in such and such
manners.
Now, from this general observation, obvious to every one,
that God has given us to understand he has appointed satisfaction and delight to be the consequence of our acting in
one manner, and pain and uneasiness of our acting in another, and of our not acting at all; and that we find the
consequences, which we were beforehand informed of,, uniformly to follow; we may learn, that we ard at present actually under his government, in the strictest and most proper sense; in such a sense, as that he rewards and punishcs us for our actions. An Author of Nature being supposed, it is not so much a deduction of reason as a matter of
experience, that we are thus under his government: under
his government, in the same sense as we are under the government of civil magistrates. Because. the annexing pleasure to some actions, and pain to others, in our power to do
or forbear, and giving notice of this appointment beforehand
to those whom it concerns, is the proper formal notion of government.' Whether the pleasure or pain which thus folows upon our behaviour, be owing to the Author of: Nature's acting upon us every moment which we feel: it, or to
-his having at once contrived and executed his own part in
the plan of the world, makes no alteration as to the matter before us. For, if civil magistrates equld make'the sanction
of their laws take place, without interposing at all, aftei
they had passed thenm; without a trial, and the formalities
of an execution: if they were able to-make their laws exe
cute them themselves or every offender to execute them
upon himself, we should be just in the same sense under their govern.ment then, as we are now; but in a.
much higher degree, and more perfect manner.  Vain
is the ridicule with which one foresees some persons will
divert themselves, upon finding lesser pains considered as
instances of divine punishment. There is no possibility of
answering or evading the general thing here intended, without denying all final causes. For, final causes being admitted, the pleasures and pains now mentioned must be admitted
too, as instances of them. And if they are; if God annex.




58         OF THE GOVENRNMENT OF GOD    LPAR'r 
es delight to some actions and uneasiness to others, with an
apparent design to induce us to act so and so, then he not
only dispenses happiness and misery, but also rewards and
punishes actions. If, for example, the pain which we feel
upon doing what tends to the destruction of our bodies, sup.
pose upon too near approaches to fire, or upon wounding
ourselves, be appointed by the Author of Nature to prevent
our doing what thus tends to our destruction; this is altogether as much an instance of his punishing our actions,
and consequently of our being under his government, as declaring, by a voice from heaven, that if we acted so, he
would inflict such pain upon us, and inflicting it whether it
be greater or less.
Thus we find, that the true notion or conception of the
Author of Nature, is that of a master or governor, prior to
the consideration of his moral attributes.  The fact of our
case, which we find by experience, is, that he actually exercises dominion or government over us at present, by re.
warding and punishing us for our actions, in as strict and
proper a sense of these words, and even in the same sense
as children, servants, subjects, are rewarded and punished by
those who govern them.
And thus the whole analogy of nature, the whole present
course of things, most fully shows, that there is nothing incredible in the general doctrine of religion, that God will reward and punish men for their actions hereafter; nothing
incredible, I mean, arising out of the notion of rewarding
and punishing, for the whole course of nature is a present
instance of his exercising that government over us, which
implies in it rewarding and punishing.
BuT,.as divine -punishment is what men chiefly object
against, and are most unwilling to allow, it may be proper to
mention some circumstances in the natural course of punIshments at present, which are analogous to what religion
teaches us concerning otfuture state of punishment; indeed
so analogous, that as they add a further credibility to it, so
they cannot but raise a most serious apprehension of it in
those who will attend to them.




VfAP. I.]  BY REWARDPS AND PUNISHMENTS. 
It-has been now observed, that such and stlch miseries naturally tollow such and such actions of imprudence and wil.
fulness, as well as actions more commonly and more distinctly considered as vicious; and that these consequences, wher
they may be foreseen, are properly natural punishments ansexed to such actions,  For the general thing here insisted
supon is, not that we see a great deal of misery in the world,
out a great deal which men bring upon themselves by their
own behaviour, which they might have foreseen and avoid
ed.  1N'ow, the circumstances of these natural punishments,
particularly deserving our attention, are such as these: That
oftentimes they follow, or are inflicted in consequence of ac.
tions which procure many presefit advantages, and are ac-.
companied with much present pleasure; for instance, sickness and untimely death is the consequence of intemperance,
though accompanied with the highest mirth and jollity,
That these punishments are often much greater than the advantages or pleasures obtained by the actions, of which they
are the punishments or consequences: That though we may
imagine a constitution of nature, in which these natural punishments, which are in fact to follow, would follow immediately upon such actions being done, or very soon after; we
find, on the contrary, in our world, that they are often delayed a great while, sometimes even till long after the actions
occasioning them are forgot; so that the constitution of nature is such, that delay of punishment is no sort nor degree
of presumption of final impunity: That, after such delay,
these natural punishments or miseries often come, not by degrees. but suddenly, with violence, and at once; however,
the chief misery often does; That, as certainty of such distant misery following such actions is never afforded persons,
so, perhaps, during the actions, they have seldom a distinct
full expectation of its following:;- and many times the case
is only thus, that they, see in general, or may see, the credibility that intemperance, suppose, will bring after its diseases;
civil crimes, civil punishments; xwhen yet the real probability often is, that they shall escape; but things notwithstanding take their destined course, and the misery inevitable
follows at its appointed time, in very many of these cases,
Thus, also, though youth may he alleged as an excuse for
rashness and folly, as being naturally thoughtless, and not
clearly foreseeing all the consequences of being untractable
*See Part ii. chap. 6.




60          OF THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD              [PART 1.
and profligate; this does not hinder but that these conse.
quences follow, and are grievously felt throughout the
whole course of future life. Habits contracted, even in
that age, are often utter ruin; and men's success in the
world, not only in the common sense of worldly success, but
their real happiness and misery depends, in a great degree,
and in various ways, upon the manner in which they pass
their youth; which consequences they, for the most part,
neglect to consider, and perhaps seldom caln properly be said
to believe beforehand. It requires also to be mentioned, that,
in numberless cases, the natural course of things affords us
opportunities for procuring advantages to ourselves at certain
times, which we cannot procure when we will; nor even
recall the opportunities, if we have neglected them. Indeed,
the general course of nature is an example of this. If, during the opportunity of youth, persons are indocile and selfwilled, they inevitably suffer in their future life, for want of
those acquirements which they neglected the natural season of attaining.  If the husbandman lets his seed-time
pass without sowing, the whole year is lost to him beyond
recovery.  In like manner, though after men have been
guilty of folly and extravagance, up to a certain degree, it is
often in their power, for instance, to retrieve their affairs, to
recover their health and character, at least in good measure,
yet real reformation is, in many cases, of no avail at all towards preventing the miseries; poverty, sickness, infamy, naturally annexed to folly and extravagance, exceeding that degree.  There is a certain bound to imprudence and misbehaviour,- which being transgressed, there remains no place
for repentance in the natural course of things. It is filrther, very much to be remarked, that neglects from inconsiderateness, want of attention,* not looking about us to see
what we have to-do, are often attended with consequences
altogether as dreadful as any active misbehaviour, from the
most extravagant passion.  And, lastly, civil government
being natural, the punishments of it are so too; and some
of these punishments are capital, as the effects of a dissolute course of pleasure are often mortal. So that many
natural punishments are finalt to him who incurs them, if
* Part ii. chap. 6.
t The general consideration of a future state of punishment most evidently belongs to the subject of natural religion. But if any of these reflections should be thought to relate more particularly to this doctrine, as
taught in scripture, the reader is desired to observe, that Gentile writers,




CH&P. II.]   BY REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS.                     61
considered only in his temporal capacity; and seem  inflici
ted by natural appointment, either to remove the offender
out of the way of being further mischievous, or as an  ex
ample, though frequently a disregarded one, to those who
are left behind.
These things are not what we call accidental, or to be
met with only now and then; but they are things of every
day's experience; they proceed from general laws, very
general ones, by which God governs the world, in the natural course of his providence.  And they are so analogous
to what religion teaches us concerning  the future punishrient of the wicked, so much of a piece with it, that both
would naturally be expressed in the very same words and
manner of description.  In  the book  of Proverbs,?  for instance, Wisdom is introduced as frequenting the most public places of resort, and as rejected when she offers herself
as the natural appointed guide of human life.'How  long,'
speaking to those who are passing  through it,'how  long,
ye simple ones, will ye love folly, and the scorners delight in
their scorning, and fools hate knowledge 2 Turn ye at my
reproof.  Behold, I will pour out my spirit upon you, I will
make known my words unto you.'  But upon being neglected,'Because I have called, and ye refused, I have
stretched out my hand, and no man regarded; but ye have
set at naught all my counsel, and would  none of my reproof: I also will laugh at your calamity, I will mock
when your fear cometh; when your.fear corneth as desolation, and your destruction cometh as.a whirlwind; when
both moralists and poets. speak of the future punishment of the wicked,
both as to the duration and degree of it, in a like manner of expression
and of description as the Scripture does. So that all which can positively
be asserted to be matter of mere revelation, with regard to this doctrine,
seems to be, that the great distinction between the righteous and the
wicked shall be made at the end of'this world; that each shall then receive
according to his deserts. Reesoe! did, as it well might, conclude, that
tt should, finally and upon the whLole, be well with the righteous and ill
with the wi. nked; but it could' not be determined, upon any principles of
reason, whether human creatures nmight not have been appointed to pass
through other states of life and beirng, before that distributive justice
should finally and effectually take place. Revelation teaches us, that the
next state of things, after the present, is appointed for the execution of
this justice; that it shall be no longer delayed; but the mystery of God,
the great mystery of his suffering vice and confusion to prevail, shall then
be finished; and he will take to him his great power, and will reign, by
rendering, to every one according to his' works.
* Chap, 1.




62          OF THIE GOVERNMENT OF GOD           [PART I,
distress and anguish cometh upon you.  Then shall they
call upon me, but I will not answer; they shall seek me
early, but they shall not find me.' This passage, every one
sees; is poetical, and some parts of it are, highly figurative;
but their meaning is obvious. And the thing intended is ex
pressed more literally in the following words:'For' that.
they hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the
Lord; therefore shall they eat the fruit of their own way,
and be filled with their own devices. For the security of
the simple shall slay them, and'the prosperity of fools shall
destroy them.' And the whole passage is so equally applicable to what we experience in the present world, concerning the consequences of men's actions and to what religion teaches us is to be expected in another, that it
may be questioned which of the two was principally intended.
indeed, when one has been recollecting the proper proofs
Df a future state of rewards and punishments, nothing, methinks, can give one so sensible an apprehension of the latter, or representation of it to the mind, as observing, that
after the many disregarded checks, admonitions, and warnings, which people meet with in the ways of vice, and folly,
and extravagance; warnings from their very nature; from
the examples of others; from the lesser inconveniences which
they bring upon themselves; from the instructions of wise
and virtuous men: after these have been long despised,
scorned, ridiculed; after the chief bad consequences, temporal consequences, of their follies, have been delayed for a
great while; at length they break in irresistibly, like an
armed force; repentance is too late to relieve, and can serve
only to aggravate their distress: the case is become desperate; and poverty and sickness, remorse and anguish, infamy and death, the effects of their own doings, overwhelm
them, beyond possibility of remedy or escape.  This is an
account of What is in fact the general constitution of nature
It is not in any sort meant, that according to what appears at present of the natural course of things, men are
always uniformly punished in proportion to their misbehaviour; but that there a.re very many instances of misbehaviour punished in the several. ways now mentioned, and
very dreadful instances too, sufficient to show what the laws
of the universe may admit; and, if thoroughly considered,
mufiicient fuliy to answer all objections against the credibili




CHAPo. I.]  BY REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS.             63
ty of a future state of punishments, from any imaginations,
that the frailty of our nature and external temptations almost annihilate the guilt of human vices; as well as objections of another sort; from necessity;- from suppositions
that the will of an infinite Being cannot be contradicted; or
that he must be incapable of offence and provocation.?
Reflections of this kind are not without their terrors to
serious persons, the most free from enthusiasm, and of the
greatest strength of mind; but it is fit things be stated and
considered as they really are. And there is, in the present
age, a certain fearlessness with regard to what may be
hereafter under the government of God, which nothing but
an universally'acknowledged demonstration on the side of
atheism can justify, and which makes it quite necessary that
men be reminded, and, if possible, made to feel, that there
is no sort of ground for being thus presumptuous, even
upon the most sceptical principles.  For, may it not be said
of any person, upon his being born into the world, he may
behave so as to be of no service to it, but by being made an
example of the woful effects of vice and folly: That he
may, as any one may, if he will, incur an infamous execu.
tion from the hands of civil justice; or in some other course
of extravagance shorten his days; or bring upon himself
infamy and diseases worse than death. So that it had
been better for him, even with regard to the present world,
that he had never been born. And is there any pretence of
reason for people to think themselves secure, and talk as if
they had certain proof, that, let them act as licentiously as
they will, there can be nothing analogous to this, with regard to a future and more general interest, under the provihence and government of the same God i
* Sbe Chap. 4 and 6.




64                  OF THE MORAL               [PART I
CHAPTER 11I.
Of the JMoral Government of God.
As the manifold appearances of design and of final cau
ses, in the constitution of the world, prove itrto be the work
of an Intelligent Mind, so the particular final causes of
pleasure and pain, distributed amongst his creatures, prove
that they are under his government; what may be called
his natural government of creatures endued with sense and
reason. This, however, implies somewhat more than seems
usually attended to, when we speak of God's natural government of the world.. It implies government of the very
same kind with that which a master exercises over his servantsi or a civil magistrate over his subjects. These latter
instances of final causes as really prove. an intelligent governor of the world, in the sense now mentioned, and before4
distinctly treated of, as any other instances of final causes
prove an intelligent Jlcaker' of it.
But this alone does not appear, at first sight, to determine
any thing certainly, concerning the moral character of the
Author of nature, considered in this relation of governor;
does not ascertain his government to be moral, or prove that
he is the righteous Judge of the world. Moral government
consists, not barely in rewarding and punishing men for
their actions, which the, most tyrannical person may do;
but in rewarding the righteous and punishing the wicked;
in rendering to men according to their actions, considered as
good or evil. And the perfection of moral government consists in doing this, with regard to all intelligent creatures,
in an exact proportion to their personal merits or demerits.
Some men seem  to think the only character of the
Author of nature to be that of simple absolute benevolence.
This, considered as a principle of action, and infinite in de.
gree, is a disposition to produce the greatest possible happi
* Chap. 2.




CHAP. II.]J        GOVERNMENT OF e'uD.                   A5
ness,,without regard to persons' behaviour, otherwise than as
such regard would produce higher degrees of it. And supposing this to be the only character of God, veracity and
justice in him would be nothing but benevolence conducted
by wisdom. Now, surely this ought not to be asserted, unless it can be proved; for we should speak -with cautious
reverence upon such a subject.  And whether it can be
proved or no, is not the thing here to be inquired into; but
whether, in the constitution and conduct of the world, a
righteous.governrment be not discernibly planned out; which
necessarily implies a. righteous governor.  There may possibly be in the creation of beings, to whom  the author of
nature manifests himself under this most amiable of all
characters, this of infinite absolute benevolence; for it is the
most amiable, supposing it not., as perhaps it is not, incompatible with justice: but he manifests himself to us under
the character of a'righteous governor.  He may, consistently with this, be simply and absolutely benevolent, in the
sense now explained; but he has, for he has given us a
proof in the constitution and conduct of the world that he is,
a governor over servants, as he rewards and punishes us for
our actions. And in the constitution and conduct of it, he
may also have given, besides the reason of the thing, and
the natural presages of conscience, clear and distinct intiimations, that his government is righteous or moral: clear to
such as think the nature of it deserving their attention; and
yet not to every careless person who casts a transient reflection upon the subject.But it is particularly to be observed, that the divine government, which we experience ourselves under in the present state, taken alone, is allowed not to be the perfection of
moral government. And yet this'by no means hinders, but
that there may be somewhat, be it more or less, truly moral
in it. A righteous government may plainly appear to be
carried on to some degree; enough to give us the apprehension that it shall be completed, or carried on to that degree
* The objections against religion, from the evidence of its not being
universal, nor so strong as might possibly have been, may be urged,
against natural religion, as well as against revealed. And, therefore, the
consideration of them belongs to the first part of this Treatise, as well as
the second. But as these objections are chiefly urged against revealed
religion, I chose to consider.them in the second part. And the answer to
them there,'Chap. 6, as urged against Christianity, being almost equally.pplicable to them as urged against the Religion of Nature, to avoid repetidtn, the reader is referred to that chapter.




66                  OF THE MORAL               [PART L
of perfection which religion teaches us it shall; but which
cannot appear, till much more of the divine administration
be seen, than can in the present life. And the design of this
chapter is to inquire how far this is the case; how far, over
and above the moral nature' - wlich God has given us, and
our natural notion of him, as righteous governor of those
his creatures to whom he has given this nature;t I say ]low
far, besides this, the principles and beginnings of moral
government over the world may be discerned notwithstancd.
ing and amidst all the confusion and disorder of it.
Now one might mention here, what-has been often urged
with great force, that, in general, less uneasiness, and' nore
satisfaction, are the natural consequences:  of a virtuaus
than a vicious course of life,. in thle present state as an
instance of moral government established in nature; an
instance of' it collected from experience and present matter of fact.  But it must be owned  a thing of difficulty to weigh and balance pleasures and uneasinesses,
each among thenmselves, and also amongst each other,
so as to make an estimate with an exactness,  of the
overplus of happiness on the side of virtue.  And it is not
impossible, that, armidcst the infinite disorders of the world,
there may be exceptions to the happiness of virtue, even
with regard to those persons whose course of life, from their
youth up, has been blameless; and more with regard to
those, who have gocre on for some time in the ways of vice,
and have afterwards reformed. For suppose an instance of
the latter case; a person with his passions inflamed, his natural faculty of self-government impaired byr habits of in.
dulgence, and with all his vices about him, like so many
harplers, craving for th.er accustomed gratification: who
can say how long. it might be before such a person would
find more satisfaction in the reasonableness and present good
consequences of virtue, than difficulties and self-denial in
the restraints of it?  Experience also. shows, that men can,
to a great degree, get over their sense of shame, so as that
by professing themselves'to be'without principle, and avow
ing even direct villany, they can support themselves against
the infamy of it. But as the ill actions of any one will pro,
bably be more talked of, and oftener thrown in his way, upon
his reformation; so the infamy of them will be much more
felt, after the natural sense of virtue and of honor is reco.
* Dissertation 2.         t Chap. 6.
t See Lord Shaftesbury's Inquiry concerning Virtue Part 2




ehAla. In.]      GOVERNMENT Of GOD.                  67
vered. Uneasinesses of this kind ought indeed to be put to
the account of former vices; yet it will be said, they are in
part tile donsequences of reformation.  Still I am far from
allowing it doubtful, whether virtue, upon the whole, be.happier than vice in the present world; but if it were, yet the beginnings of a righteous administration may, beyond all question, be found in nature, if we will attentively inquire'after
them. And,
I. In whatever manner the notion of God's moral government ovcr the world might be treated; if it did not appear
whether he were, in a proper sense, our governor at all; yet
when it is certain matter of experience, that he does manifest himself to us under the character of a governor, in the
sense explained,* it must deserve to be considered, whether
there be not reason to apprehend, that he may be a righteous
or moral governor.  Since it appears to be fact, that
God does govern mankind by the method of rewards
and punishments, according to some settled rulers of
distribution, it is surely a question to be asked, What
presumption is there against his finally rewarding and
punishing them according to this particlar rule, namely, as
they act reasonably or unreasonably, virtuously or viciously?
since rendering man happy or miserable by this rule, certainly falls in, much more falls in, with our natural apprehensions and sense of things, than doing so by any other rule,
whatever; since rewarding and punishing actions by any
other rule, would appear much harder to be accounted for by
minds formed as he has formed ours. Be the evidence of religion, then, more or less clear, the expectation which it raises
in us, that the righteous shall upon the w.hole, be happy, and
the wicked miserable, icahinot, however, possibly be considered as absurd or chimer'icvdl; because it is no more than an
expectation, that a method of government, already begun,
shall be carried on, the mnethod of rewarding and punishing
actions; -and shall be carried on by a particular rule, which
unavoidably appears to us, at first sight, more natural than
any other, the rule which we'call distributive justice.  Nor,
II. Ought it to be entirely passed over, that tranquillity,
satisfaction, and external advantages, beingthe natural consequences of prudent management of ourselves and our
affairs: and  rashness, profligate negligence, and wilful
folly, bringing after them many inconveniencies and sufferings; these afford instances of a right constitution of na-, Chap- 2




68                 OF THE MORAL                 [PART I
ture; as the correction of children, for their own sakes and
by the way of example, when they run into danger or hurt
themselves, is a part of right education.  And thus, that
God governs'the world by general fixed laws; that he has
endued us with capacities of reflecting upon this constitu.
tion of Things, and forseeing the good and bad consequences
of out behaviour, plainly implies some sort of moral' govern.
rr:ent: since from such a constitution of things it cannot but
follow, that prudence and imprudence, which are of the na.
ture of virtue and vice, must be, as they are, respectively
rewarded and punished.
III. From the natural course of things, vicious actions
are, to a great degree, actually punished as mischievous to
society; and besides punishment actually inflicted upon this
account, there is also the fear and apprehension of it in those
persons whose crimes have rendered them  obnoxious to it
in case of a discovery; this state of fear being itself often a
very considerable punishment. The natural fear and apprehension of it too, which restrains from such crimes, is a declaration of nature against them. It is necessary to the
very being of society, that vices destructive of it should be
punished as being so; the vices of falsehood, injustice, cruelty: which punishment, therefore, is as natural as society,
and so is an instance of a kind of moral government,
naturally established, and actually taking place. And,
since the certain natural course of things is the conduct of Providence or the government of God, though
carried on by the instrumentality of men, the observation here made amounts to this, that mankind find themselves placed by him  in such circumstances, as that they
are unavoidably accountable for their behaviour, and are
often punished; and sometimes rewarded, under his government, in the view of their being mischievous or eminently, beneficial to society.
If it be objected that good actions, and such as are beneficial to society, are often punished, as in the case of persecution, and in other cases, and that ill and mischievous actions are often rewarded; it may be answered distinctly,
first, that this is in no sort necessary, and consequently not
natural in the sense in which it is necessary, and therefore
natural, that ill or mischievous actions should be punished,
and, in the next place, that good'actions are never punished,
considered as beneficial to society, "nor ill actions rewaerded
* See Dissertation 2.




eRAP. III.]       GOVERNMENT OF GOD.                 69
under the view of their being hurtful to it. So that it
stands good, without any thing on the side of vice to be set
over against it, that the A uthor of nature has as truly directed that vicious actions, considered as mischievous to society, should be punished, and put mankind under a necessity of thus punishing them, as he has'directed and necessitated us to preserve our lives by food.
IV. In the natural course of things, virtue, as such, is
actually rewarded, and vice, as such, punished; which
seems to afford an instance, or example, not only of govern.
ment, but of moral government begun and established;
moral in the strictest sense, though not in that perfection of
degree which religion teaches us to expect. In order to see
this more clearly, we must distinguish between actions themselves, and that quality ascribed to them, which we call virtuous or vicious.  The gratification itself of every natural
passion must be attended with delight  and acquisitions of
fortune, however made, are acquisitions of the means or
materials of enjoyment. An action, then, by which any
natural passion is gratified, or fortune acquired, procures delight or advantage, abstracted from all consideration of the
morality of such action.  Consequently, the pleasure or advantage in this case is gained by the action itself, not by the
morality, the virtuousness or viciousness of it, though it be,
perhaps, virtuous or vicious.  Thus, to say such an action,
or course of behaviour, procured such pleasure or advantage,
or brought on such inconvenience and pain, is quite a different thing from saying, that such good or bad effect was ow
ing to the virtue or vice of such'an action or behaviour.
In one case an action, abstracted from  all moral consideration, produced its effect; in the other case, for it will appear
that there are such cases, the morality of the action, the
action under a moral consideration, i. e. the virtuousness or
viciousness of it, produced the effect.  Now I say, virtue,
as such, naturally procures considerable advantages to the
virtuous, and vice, as such, naturally occasions great inconvenience, and even misery to the vicious, in very many instances.  The immediate effects of virtue and vice upon
the mind and temper are to be mentioned as instances of
it. Vice, as such, is naturally attended with some sort of
uneasiness, and not uncommonly with great disturbance
and apprehension. That inward feeling which respecting
lesser matters and in familiar speech, we call being vexed
with one's self, and in matters of importance, and in more




70                 OF THE MORAL               [PAnt L
serious language, remorse, is an uneasiness naturally arising
from an action of man's own, reflected upon by himself as
Wrong, unreasonable, faulty, i. e. vicious in greater or less
degrees; and this manifestly is a different feeling from that
uneasiness which aljses from a sense of mere loss or harm,
What is more common than to hear a man lamenting an
accident or event, and adding,-But, however, he has the
satisfaction that he cannot blame himself for it; or, on the
contrary,'lhat he has the uneasiness of being sensible it was
his own doing. Thus also, the disturbance and fear which
often follow upon a man's having done an injury, arise front
a sense of his being blame-worthy; otherwise there would,
in many cases, be lo ground of disturbance nor any reason
to fear resentment or shame.  On the other hand, inward
security and peace, and a mind open to the several gratifi.
cations of life, are the natural attendants of innocence and
virtue; to which must be added, the complacency, satisfaction, and even joy of heart, which accompany the exercise,
the real exercise, of gratitude, friendship, benevolence.
And here, I think, ought to be mentioned, the fears of
future punishment, and peaceful hopes of a better life, in
those who fully believe or have any serious apprehension of
religion; because these hopes and fears are present uneasiness and satisfaction to the mind, and cannot be got rid of by
great part of the world, even by men who have thought
most thoroughly upon that subject of religion. And no
one can, say how  considerable- this uneasiness and satisfaction may be, or what, upon the whole, it may
amount to.
In.the next place comnes in the cansideration, that all
honest and good men are disposed to befriend honest good
rmen, as such, and to discountenance the vicious, as such,
And do so in some degree, indeed in a considerable degree;
from which favor and discouragement cannot but arise
considerable advantage and inconvenience. And though
the generality of the world have little regard to the mrnrality
of their own actions, and may be supposed to have less to
that of others, when they themselves are not concerned; yet,
let any one be known to be a man of virtue, somehow or
other he will be favored, and good offices will be done him
from regard -to his character, without remote views, occasionally, and in some low degree, I think, by the generalib
ty of the world, as it happens to come in their way. Public
honors, too, and advantages, are the natural consequences




are sometim.es at least the consequences in. fact, of virtuous
actions, of eminent justice, fidelity, charity, love to our country, considered in the view  of beiig virtuous.  And some
times even-death itself, often infamy andl external inconven.
ienees, are the public consequences ot vice. as vice.  For
instance, the sense which mankind have of tyranZny, injustice, oppression, additional to the mere feeling or fear of mis,
ery, has doubtless been instrumental in hbringing about
itc:olutions, which make a figure even in the hisl.ory of the
world.  For it is plain,men resent injuries as iiplying faultiness, and retaliate, not merely under the notion of having
recei-Ted harm, but of having received wrong; anid they
have this resentment in behalf of others, as well as of them'
selves.  So, likewise, even the generality are, in some de,
gree, grateful and disposed to return good offices, not merely because such a one has been the occasion of good to
them, but under the view that such good offices implied
kind intention and good desert in the doer.  To all this mnay
be added two or three particular things, which many persons will think frivolous; but to nme nothing appears so,
which at all comes in towards determining a question of-such
importance, as whether there be or be not a moral institution of government, in the strictest sense moral, visibly es.
tablished and begun in nature.  The particular things are
these: That in domestic government, which is doubtless
natural, children, and others also, are very generally punished for falsehood, and injustice, and ill-behaviour, as such, and
rewarded for the contrary; which are instances where veracity, and justice, and right behaviour. as such, are naturally
enforced by rewvards and punishments, whether more or less
considerable in degree  that though civil government be
supposed to take cognizance of actions in no other view
than as prejudicial to society, without iespect to the morality of them, yet as- such actions are immoral, so the
sense which men lhave of the immorality of them very greatly contributes, in different ways, to bring offenders to justice;
and that entire absence of all crime and guilt, in the moral
sense, when plainly appearing, will almost of course piocure,
and circulmstances of aggravated guilt prevent, a remission
of the penalties annexed to civil crimes, in many cases,
though by no means in all.
Upon the whole, then, besides the good and bad effects
of vi'tLue and vic,: uIpon men's own minds, the course of the
world does, in soome measure, turn upon the approbation and




72                 OtF THE MIORAL                LPART I
disapprobation of them, as such, in- others. T'rhe sense of
Weil and ill doing, the presages of conscience, the love of
good characters and dislike of bad ones, honor, shame, resentment, gratitude; all these, considered in themselves,
and in their effects, do afford manifest real instances of vir.
tue, as such, naturally favored, and of vice) as such, dis.
countenanced, more or less, in the daily course of human
life; in every age, in every relatiol, in every general cir.
cumstance of it.  That God has given us a moral natureI
may most justly be urged as a proof of our being under his
moral governmeit; but that he has placed us in a condition,
which gives this nature, as one may speak, scope to operate,
and in Which it does unavoidably operate, i. e. influence
mankind to act, so as thus to favor and reward virtue, and
discountenance and punish vice  this is not the same, but a
further additional proof of his moral government; for it is
an instance of it.  The first is a proof that he will finally
favor and support virtue effectually; the second is an examrple of his favoring and supporting it at present, in some
d egree.
If a m6d-e distinct inquiry be made, when it arises, that
virtue, as such, is often rewarded, and vice, as such is pun
ished, and this rule never inverted; it will be found to pro.
ceed, in part, immediately from the moral nature itself which
God has given us; and also, in part, from his having given
us, together with this nature, so great a power over each
other's happiness and misery. For, first, it is certain, that
peace and delight, in some degree and upon some occasions,
is the necessary and present effect-of virtuous practice; an
effect arising immediately from that constitution of our nature. We are so made, that well-doing, as such, gives us
satisfaction, at least in some instances; ill-doing, as such, in
none.  And,' secondly, from  our moral nature, joined with
God's having put our happiness and misery, in many respects,
in each other's power, it cannot but be that vice, as such,
sonie kinds anid instances of it at le-ast, will be infamous, and
men will be disposed-to punish it as in itself detestable; and
the villain will by no means be able always to avoid feeling
that infamy, any more than he will be abl'e to escape this
ftuther punishment which mankind will be disposed to inilict upon him, under the notion of his deserving it. But
there Can be nothing on the side of vice to answer thisi
* See Dissertation 2.




CHAP. III.J     GOVERNMENT OF GOD.'73
because there is nothing in thle human mind contradictory,
as the logicians speak, to virtue.  For virtue consists in a
regard to what is right and reasonable, as being so; in a
regard to veracity, justice, charity, in themselves: and there
is surely no such thing as a like natural regard to false.
hood, injustice, cruelty. If it be thought, that there are instances of an approbation of vice, as such, in itself, and for
its own sake, (though it does not appear to me that there is
any such thing at all; but, supposing there be,) it is evidently monstrous; as much so as the most acknowledged
perversion, of any passion whatever. Such instances of
perversion, then, being left out as merely imaginary, or, however, unnatural; it must follow, from the frame of our nature,
and from our condition, in the respects now described, that
vice cannot at atll be, and virtue cannot but be, favored, as
such, by others, upon some occasions; and happy in itself,
in some degree. For what is here insisted upon, is not in
the degree in which virtue and vice are thus distinguished,
but only the thing itself, that they are so in some degree;
though the whole good and bad effect of virtue and vice, as
such, is not inconsiderable in degree.  But that they must
be thus distiguished, ill some degr'e, is in a manner necessary; it is matter of fact, of daily experience, even in the
greatest confusion of human affairs.
It is not pretended but that; in the natural course of
things, happiness and misery appear to be distributed by
other rules, than only the personal merit and demerit of
characters.  They may sometimes be distributed by way
of mere discipline. There may be the wisest and best reasons why the world should be governed by general laws,
from -whence such promiscuous distribution perhaps must
follow; and also why our happiness and misery should beo
put in each other's power, in the degree which they are.
And these things, as in general they'contribute to the rewarding virtue and punishing vice, as such; so they often
contribute also, not to the inversion of this, which is impossible, but to the rendering persons prosperous though wicked, afflicted though righteous; and, which is worse, to the
rewarding some actions, though vicious, and punishing other
actions, though virtuous.  But all this cannot drown the
voice of nature in the conduct of Providence plainly declar-.
-ing itself for virtue, by way of distinction from  vice, and
preference to it.  For, our being so constituted as that virtue
and vice are tnus naturally favored.mnd discountenancedc
4




Ct4                6P Tpt MOARAt                [PaRT i, 
rewarded and punished respectively as such, is an intuitive
proof of thile intent of nature that it should be so; otherwise
the constitution of our miid, from which it thus immediately
and directly prioceeds, would be absurd. Butl it cannot be
said, because virtuous actions are sometimes punished, and
vicious actions rewarded, that nature intended it.  For',
though this grrit disorder is brought about, as all actions
are done, by means of some natural passion, yet this may be,
as it undoubtedly is, brought about by the perversion of such
passion, implanted in us for other, and those very good purposes. A nd -irideed: these other arid good purposes, even of
every passion, may be clearly seen.
We have then a declaration, in some degree of present
effect, from him who is supreme in nature, which side he
is of or what part he takes; a declaration for virtue, and
against vice. So far, therefore, as a man is true to virtue,
to veracity and justice, to equity and charity, and the right
of the case, in whatever he is concerned, so far he is on the
side of the divine administration, and cooperates with it; and
from hence, to such a man, arises naturally a secret satisfaction and sense of security, and implicit hope of somewhat
further. And,
V. This hope is confirmed by the necessary tendencies of
virtue, which, though not of present effect, yet are at present
discernible in nature; arid so afford ah instance of somewhat moral in the essenitial constitution of it.  There is, in
the nature of things, a tendency in virtue and vice to produce the good and bad effects now renitioned, in a greater
degree than they do in fact produce them.  For instance,
good and bad men would be much more rewarded and punished as such, were it not that justice is often artificially
eluded, that characters are not klndown, and many who
would thus favor virtue and discourage vice, are hindered
from doing so. by accidental causes.  These tendencies of
virtue and vice are obvidus with regard to individuals.  Bux
it may require more particularly to be considered, that- power
in a society, by being under the direction of virtue, naturally
increases, and has a necessary tendency to prevail over opposite power, not under the direction of it; in like mnanner
as power, by being under the dircectlon of reason, increases,
and has a tendellcy to prevail over brute force.  There are
several brute creatures of equal, and several of superior
strength, to that of mren; and possibly the sum of the whole
strength of brutes may be greater than that of mankind:




CrHAP. Ill.]     GOVERNMENT OVF' GOr.               75
but reason gives us the advantage and superiority o-er them,
and thus man is the acknowledged governing animal upon
the earth. Nor is this superiority considered by any as
accidental; but as what reason has a tendency, in the nature of the thing, to obtain. And yet, perhaps, difficulties
may be raised about the meaning, as well as the truth of
the assertion, that virtue has the like tendency.
To obviate these difficulties, let us see more distinctly
how the case stands with regard to reason, which is so
readily acknowledged to have this advantageous tendency.
Suppose, then, two or three men, of the best and most improved understanding, in a desolate open plain, attacked by
ten times the number of beasts of prey; would their reason
secure them the victory in this unequal combat? Power,
then, though joined with reason; and under its direction,
cannot be expected to prevail over opposite power, though
merely brutal, unless the one bhears some proportion to the
other. Again, put the imaginary case, that rational and
irrational creatures were of like external shape and manner; it is certain, before there were opportunities for the first
to distinguish each other, to separate from their adversaries,
and to form a union among themselves, they might be upon
a level, or, in several respects, upon great disadvantage,
though, united, they might be vastly superior; since union
is of such efficacy, that ten men, united, might be able to
accomplish what ten thousand of the same natural strength
and understanding, wholly ununited, could not. In this
case, then, brute force might more than maintain its ground
against reason, for want of union among the rational creatures.- Or suppose a number of men to land upon an island
inhabited only by wild beasts; a number of men, who, by
the regulations of civil government, the inventions of art,
and the experience of soine years, could they be preserved
so long, would be really sufficieiht to subdue the wild beasts,
and to preserve themselves in security from them; yet a
conjecture of accidents might give such advantage to the
irrational animals as that they might at once overpower,
and even extirpate, the whole species of rational ones.
Length of time, then, proper scope and opportunities for rea.
son to exert itself, may be absolutely necessary to its prevailing over brute force.  Further still; there are many in.
stances of brutes succeeding in attempts which they could
not have undertaken, had not their irrational nature rendered: them incapable. of forseeing the danger of such attempts,




OF THE MORAL              [PART I,
or the fury of passion hindered their attending to it; and
there are instances of reason, and real prudence preventing
men's undertaking, what, it hath appeared afterwards, the3
might have succeeded in by a lucky rashness. And in certain
conjunctures, ignorance and folly, weakness and discord,
may have their advantages. So that rational animals have
not necessarily the superiority over irrational ones; but,
how improbable soever it may be, it is evidently possible,
that, in some globes, the latter mlay be superior. And were
the former wholly at variance and disunited, by false self-in'
terest and envy, by treachery and injustice, and consequent
rage and malice against each other, whilst the latter were
frmly united among themselves by instinct, this might
greatly contribute to the introducing such an inverted order
of things. For every one would consider it as inverted;
since reason has, in the nature of it, a tendency to prevail
over brute force, notwithstanding the possibility it may not
prevail, and the necessity which there is of many concurring circumstances to render it prevalent.
Now, I say, virtue in a society has a like tendency to
procure superiority and additional power, whether this power
be considered as the means of security from opposite power,
or of obtaiLinig other advantages.  And it has this tendency, by rendering public godd an object and end to every
member of the society; by putting every one upon consideration and diligence, recollection and  self-government,
both in order to see what is the most effectual method, and
also in order to perform their- proper part, for obtaining and
preserving it; by uniting a society within itself, and so increasing its strength, and, which is particularly to be mentioned, uniting it by means of veracity and justice. For as
these last are principal bonds of union, so benevolence, or
public spirit, undirected, unrestrained by them, is-nobody
knows what.
And suppose the invisible world, and the invisible dispensations of Providence, to be in any sort analogous to what
appears; or, -that both together make up one uniform
scheme, the two parts of which, the part which we see, and
that which is beyond our observation, are analogous to
each other; then, there must be a like natural tendency in
the derived power, throughout the universe, under the direction of virtue, to prevail idi general over that which is not
under its direction; as there is in reason, derived reason in
the universe, to prevail over brute force. But then, in order




CHAP. III.       GOVERNMENT OF GOD.                  77
to the prevalence of virtue, or that it may actually produce
what it has a tendency to produce, the like concurrences
are necessary as are to the prevalence of reason.  There
must be some proportion between the natural power or force
which is, and that which is not, under the direction of vir.
tue   There must be sufficient length of time; for the complete success of virtue, as of reason, cannot from the nature
of the thing, be otherwise than gradual: there must be, as
one may speak, a fair field of trial, a stage large and extensive enough, proper otcasions and opportunities for the vir.
tuous to join together, to exert themselves against lawless
force, and to reap the fruit of their united labours. Now
indeed it is to be hoped, that the disproportion between the
good and the bad, even here on earth, is not so great, but
that the former have natural power sufficient to their pre.
vailing to a considerable degree, if circumstances would
permit this power to be united.  For, much less, very much
less power, under the direction of virtue, would prevail over
much greater, not under the direction of it. However, good
men over the face of the earth cannot unite; as for other
reasons, so because they cannot be sufficiently ascertained
of each other's characters. And the known course of human things, the scene we are now passing through, particularly the shortness of life, denies to virtue its full scope
in several other respects.  The natural tendency which
~we have been considering, though real, is hindered from being carried into effect in the present state, but these hindran.
ces may be removed in a future one., -Virtue, to borrow the
Christian allusion, is militant here,' and various untoward
accidents contribute to its being often overborne; but it may
combat with greater advantage hereafter, and prevail completely and enjoy its consequent rewards, in some future
states. j Neglected as it is, perhaps unknown, perhaps despised and oppressed here, there may be scenes in eternity,
lasting enough, and in every other way adapted, to afford it
a sufficient sphere of action, and a sufficient sphere for the
natural consequences of it to follow in fact. If the soul be
naturally immortal, and this state to be a progress towards
a future one, as childhood is towards mature age, good men
may naturally unite, not only amongst themselves, but also
with other orders of virtuous creatures, in that fiuture state.
For virtue, from the very nature of it, is a principal and
bond of union, in some degree, amongst all who are endued
*ith it, and known to each other; so as that by it a




78                 OF THE MORAL             rtPAlT I
good.man cannot but recommend himself to the favor and
protection of all virtuous beings, throughout the whole uni.
verse, who can be acquainted with his character, and can
any way interpose in his behalf in ainy part of his duration.
And one might add, that suppose all this advantageous tendency of virtue to become effect amongst one or more orders of
creatures, in any distant scenes and periods, and to be seen
by any orders of vicious creatures, throughout the universal
kingdom  of God, this happy effect of virtue would have a
tendency, by way of example, and possibly in othe~ ways,
to amend those of them who are capable of' amendment,
and being recovered to a just sense of virtue. If our: notions
of the plan of Providence were enlarged, in any: sort: pro.
portionable to what late discoveries have enlarged.-our. views
with respect to the material world, representations of this
kind would not appear absurd or extravagant. However,
they are not to be -taken as intended for a literal delineation' of what is in fact the particular scheme of the universe, which cannot be known without revelation; fmo suppositions are not to be looked on as true, because not incredible, but they are mentioned to show, that our finding
virtue to be hindered from procuring to itself such superiority
and advantages, is no objection against its having in the
essential nature of the thing, a tendency to procure them.
And the suppositions now mentioned do plainly show this;
for they show, that these hindrances are so far from being
necessary, that we ourselves can easily conceive how  they
may be removed in future states, and full scope be granted
to virtue. And all these advantageous tendencies of it are
to be considered as declarations of God in its favor. This,
however, is taking a pretty large compass; though it is
certain, that as the material world appears to be, in a manner, boundless and immense, there mrust be some scheme of
Providence vast. in proportion to it.
But let us return to the earth, our habitation, and we
shall see this happy tendency of virtue, by imagining an
instance not so vast arid remote; by suipposing a kingdom,
or society of men, upon it, perfectly virtuous, for a succession
of many ages; to which, if you please, may be given a sit.
uation advantageous to universal monarchy. In such a
state there would be rio such thing as-faction, but men of
the greatest Capacity would, of course, all along, have the
Chief direction of affairs willingly yielded to them, and they
would share it among themselves without envy   Each of




CHAP. JIl].      GOVERNMENT OF GOD.                 79
these would have the part assigned him to which his genris was peculiarly adapted; and others, who had not any
distinguished genius, would be safe, and think themselves
very happy, by being under the protection and guidance of
those who had. Public determinations would really be the
result of the united wisdom of the community, and they
would faithfully be executed by the united strength of it.
Some would in a higher way contribute, but all would ill
some way contribute to the public prosperity, and in it each
would enjoy the fruits of his own virtue.  And as injustice,
whether by fraud or force, would be unknown among them.
selves, so they would be sufficiently secured froln it in their
neighbors. For cunning and false self-interest, confederacies in injustice, ever slight and accompanied with faction
and intestine treachery; these, on one hand, would be found
meie childish folly and weakness, when set in opposition
against wisdom, public spirit, union inviolable, and fidelity
on the other, allowing both a sufficient length of years to
try their force. Add the general influence which such a
kingdom would have over the face of the earth, by way of
example particularly, and the reverence. which would be
paid it. It would plainly be superior to all others, and the
world must gradually come under its empire; not by means
of lawless violence, but partly by what must be allowed to
be just conquest, and partly by other kingdoms submitting
themselves voluntarily to it throughout a course of ages,
and claiming its protection, one after another, in successive
exigencies. The head of it would be a universal monarch,
inanothler sense than any mortal has yet been, and the eastern style would be literally applicable to him, that all people, nations, and languages should serve hint. And though
indeed our knowledge of human nature, and the whole history of mankind, show the impossibility, without some miraculous interposition, that a mnmber of men here on earth
shall unite in one society or government, in the fear of God
and universal practice of virtue, and that such a government should continue so united for a succession of ages;
yet, admitting or supposing this, the effect would be as now
drawn out. And thus, for instance, the wonderful power
and prosperity promised to the Jewish nation in the Scripture, would be, in a great measure, the consequence of
what is predicaten of them; that the'people should be all
righteous and inherit the land forever;' were we to under+ Isa. Ix. 21.




80                 OF THE MORAL               ].PART I
stand the latter phrase of a long continuance only, sufficient:
to give things time to work. The predictions c-f this kind,
for there are many of them, cannot come to pass in the
present known course of nature; but suppose them come
to pass, and then the dominion and pre-eminence promised
must naturally follow, to a very considerable degree.
Consider, now, the general system of religion; that the
government of the world is uniform, and one, and moral;
that virtue and right shall finally have the advantage, and
prevail over fraud and lawless force, over the deceits as well
as the violence of wickedness, under the conduct of one supreme Governor; and from the observations above made it
will appear, that God has, by our reason, given us to see a
peculiar connexion in the several parts of this scheme, and
a tendency towards the completion of it, arising out of the
very nature of virtue; which tendency is to be considered
as somewhat moral in the essential constitution of things
If any one should think all this to be of little importance, I
desire him to consider what he would think, if vice had, es
sentially and in its nature, these advantageous tendencies,
or if virtue had essentially the direct contrary ones.
But it may be objected, that notwithstanding all these
natural effects, and these natural tendencies of virtue, yet
things may be now going on throughout the universe, and
may go on hereafter, in the same mixed way as here at
present upon earth; virtue sometimes prosperous, sometimes depressed; vice sometimes punished, sometimes successful. The answer to which is, that it is not the purpose
of this chapter, nor of this treatise, properly to prove God's
perfect moral government over the world, or the truth of re,
ligion, but to observe what there is in the constitution and
course of nature to confirm the proper proof of it, supposed
to be known, and that the weight of the foregoing observations to this puirpose may be thus distinctly proved. Pleasure alrd pain are indeed, to a certain degree, say to a very
high degree, distributed amongst us, without any apparent
regard to the merit or demerit of characters.  And were
there nothing else, concerning this matter, discernible in the
constitution and course of nature, there would be no ground,
from the constitution and course of nature, to hope or to
fear, that men would be rewarded or punished hereafter according to their deserts; which, however, it is to be remarked, implies, that even then there would be no ground, from
appearances, to think that vice, upon the whole, would!m.




CHAP. III.]    GOVERNMENT OF GOD.                   8i
the advantage, rather than that virtue would.  And thus
the proof of a fuiture state of retribution would rest upon the
usual known arguments for it; which are, I think, plainly
unanswerable, and would be so, though there were no additional confirmation of them from the things above insisted
on. But these things are a very strong confirmation of
themn: For,
First, they show that the Author of nature is not indiffer
ent to virtue and vice. They amount to a declaration from
him, determinate, and not to be evaded, in favor of one, and
against the other: such a declaration as there is nothing to
be set over against, or answer, on the part of vice. So that
were a man, laying aside the proper proof of religion, to
determine from the course of nature only, whether it were
most probable that the righteous or the wicked'would have
the advantage in a future life, there can be no doubt but
that he would determine the p/'obability to be, that the for.
mer would.  The course of, nature, then, in the view of it
now- given, furnishes us with a real practical proof of the
obligations of religion.
Secondly, When, conformably to what religion teaches us,
God shall reward and punish virtue and vice, as such, so as
that every one shall, uponlthe whole, have his deserts, this
distributive justice will not be a thing different in kind, but
only in degree, from what we experience ini his present government. It will be that in effect, toward which we now see
a tendency. It will be no more than the completion of that
moral government, the principles and beginning of which
have been shown, beyond all dispute, discernible in the
present constitution and course of nature.  And from hence
it. follows,
Thirdly, That as, under the natural government of God)
our experience of those kinds and degrees of happiness and
misery, which we do experience at present, gives just ground
to hope for and to fear higher degrees and other kinds of
both in a future state, supposing a future state admitted; so,
under his moral government, our experience that virtue and
vice are, in the manners above-mentioned, actually rewarded and punished at present, in a certain degree, gives just
ground to hope and to fear that' they may be rewarded and
punished in a higher degree hereafter. It is acknowledged,
indeed, that this alone is not sufficient ground to think, that
they actually will be rewarded and punished in a higher degree, rather than in a lower: But then,
4*




82                  OF THE MORAL                [P.lIW I,
Lastly, There is sufficient ground to think so from  the
good and bad tendencies of virtue and vice.  For these ten.
dencies are essential, and founded in the nature of things;
whereas the hindrances, to their becoming effects are, in
numberless cases, not necessary, but artificial only. Now,
it mray be much mnore strongly urged, that these tendencies,
as well as the actual rewards and punishments of virtue and
vice, which arise directly out of the nature of things. will
remain hereafter, than that the accidental hrinderances of
them will.  And- if these hinderances do.not remain, those
rewards and punishments cannot but be carried on much
further towards the perfection of moral government, i. e. the
tendency of virtue and vice will become effect; but when,
or where, or in what particular way, cannot be known at
all but by revelation.
Upon the whole, there is a kind of moral government inplied in God's natural government; virtue and vice are
naturally rewarded and punished as beneficial and mischievous to society, and rewarded and punished directly as
virtue and vice.   The notion, then, of a moral scheme of
government, is not fictitious, but-natural; for it is suggested
to our thoughts by the constitution and course of nature,
and the execution of this scheme is actually begun, in the
instances here mentioned.  And these things are to be considered asa declaration of the Author of nature, for virtue,
and against vice; they give a credibility to the supposition
of their being rewarded and punished hereafter, and also
ground to hope and to fear, that they may be rewarded and
punished in higher degrees than thley are here.  And as all
this is confirmed, so the argument for-,religion, from the constitution and course of nature, is carried on farther, by observ.
ing, that there are natural tendencies, and, in innumerable
cases, only artificial hindrances, to this moral scheme being
carried on much farther towards perfection than it is at present. The notion, then, of a moral scheme of government, much more perfect than what is seen, is not a fictitious, but a natural notion, for it is suggested to our thoughts
by the essential tendencies of virtue and vice. And these
tendencies are to be considered as intimations, as implicit
promises and threatenings, from the Author of nature, of
much greater rewards and punishments to follow virtue and




thAP. Ill.]      GOVERNMENT OF GOD.                 83
vice, than do at present. And, indeed, every natural tendency, which is to continue, but which is hindered from becoming effect by only accidental causes, affords a presulmp
tion, that such tendency will, some time or other, become
effect: a presumption in degree proportionable to the length
of the duration through which such tendency will continue.
An I from these things together arises a real presumption,
that ilhe moral scheme of government established in nature,
shali be carried on much farther towards perfection hereafter, and, I think, a presumption that it will be absolutely
completed. But from these things, joined with the moral
nature which God has given us, considered as given us by
hill, arises a practical proof: that it will be completed; a
prooC from fact, and therefore a distinct one from that which
is deduced fromi the eternal and unalterable relations; the
Atness and unfitness of actions.:'.e this proof drawn out brefly, chap. &




CHAPTER 1V.
Of a State of Probatzon, as zmFlying Trial, Difficulties, and
Danger.
THE general doctrine of religion, that our present life is
a state of probation for a future one, comprehends under
it'several particular thingsi distinct from each other. -Bul
the first and most common meaning of it seems to be, that
our future interest is now depending, and depending upon
ourselves; that we have scope and opportunities here fol
that good and bad behaviour, which God will reward and
punish hereafter; together with temptations to one, as well
as inducements of reason to the other. And this is, in great
measure, the, same with saying, that we are under the
moral government of God, and to give an account-of owt
actions to him. For the notion of a future account, and
general righteous judgment, implies some sort of tempta
tions to what is wrong, otherwise there would be no moral
possibility of doing wrong, nor ground foi judgment or dis
crimination.  But there is this difference, that the word pro
bation is more distinctly and particularly expressive of allure
ments to wrong, or difficulties in adhering uniformly to wha
is right, and of the danger of miscarrying by such' temnpta
tions, than the words moral government. A state of proba
tion, then, as thus particularly implying in it trial, difficulties
and danger, may require to be considered distinctly by itself
And as the moral government of God, which religiorl
teaches us, implies, that we are in a state of trial with regard
to a future world; so also his natural government over us
implies, that we are in a state of trial, in a like sense, with
regard to the present world. Natural government, by re.
wards and punishments, as much implies natural trial, as
moral government does moral trial. The natural govern,




CalA. IV.]       OF A STATE OP TRIAL.                85
ment of God here meant,- consists in his annexing pleasure
to some actions, and pain to others, which are in our power
to do or forbear, and in giving us notice of such appointment beforehand.  This necessarily implies, that he has
made our happiness and misery, or our interest, to depend
in part upon ouIselves.  And so far as men have temptations to any course of action, which will probably occasion
them greater temporal inconvenience and uneasiness than
satisfaction, so far their temporal interest is in danger from
themseives, or they are in a state of trial with respect to it,
Now, people often blame others, and even themselves, for
tJ:b. ir* misconduct in their temporal concerns,  And we find
many are greatly wanting to themselves, and miss of that
natural happiness which they might have obtained in the
present life; perhaps every one does in some degree.  But
many run themselves into greafiinconvenience, and into ex.
treme distress and misery, not through incapacity of knowing better, and doing better for themnselves, which would be
nothing to the present purpose, but through their own fault.
And these things necessarily imply temptation, and danger
of mriscarrying, in a greater or less degree, with respect to
our worldly interest or happiness. Every one, too; without
having religion in his thoughts, speaks of the hazards which
young people runl upon their setting out in the world; hazlrds from  other causes, than merely their ignorance, and
unavoidable accidents.  And some courses of vice, at least,
being contrary to men's worldly interest or good, temptations
to these must at the same time be temptations to forego our
present and our'future interest.  Thus, in our natural or
temporal capacity, awe are in a state of trial, i. e. of difficulty
and danger, analogous or like to our moral and religious
trial.
This will more distinctly appear to any one, who thinks
it worth while, more distinctly, to consider what it is which
constitutes pur'trial in both capacities,' and to observe how
mankind behave' under it.
And that which constitutes this our trial, in both these
capacities, must be somewhat either in our external circumstances, or in our nature. For, on t.-ie one hand, persons
may be betrayed into wrong behaviour upon surprise, or
overcome upon any other very singular and extraordinary
Chap. $




86              OP A STATE OF TRIAL.            [PART I.
external occasions, who would, otherwise, have preserved
their character of prudence and of virtue; in which cases,
every one, in speaking of the wrong behaviour of these per.
sons, would impute it to such particular external circum.
stances. And, on the other hand, men who have contracted
habits of vice and folly of any kind, or have some particular passions in excess, will seek opportunities, and, as it
were, go out of their way, to gratify themselves in these
respects, at the expense of their wisdom  and their virtue;
led to it, as every one would say, not by external temptations, but by such habits and passions.  And the account
of-this last case is, that particular passions are no more coincident with prudence, or that reasonable self-love, the end
of which is our worldly interest, than they are with the princlple of virtue and religion, but often draw contrary ways'
to one as well as to the other; and so such particular pas.
sions are as much temptations to act imprudently with re
gard to our worldly interest, as to act viciously.?  However
as when we say, men are misled by eternal circumstances of
temptation, it cannot but be understood, that there is some
what within themselves, to render those circumstances
temptations, or to render them  susceptible of impressions
from them; so, when we say, they are misled by passions,
it is always supposed, that there are occasions, circumstances, and objects, exciting these passions, and -affording
means for gratifying them.  And, therefore, temptations
from within, and from without, coincide, and mutually imply
each other.  Now, the several external objects of the appetites, passions, and affections, being present to the senses, or
offeringl thlmcselves to the mind, and s0q. exciting emotions
suitable to their nature, not only in cases where they can
be gratified consistently with innocence and prudence, but
also in cases where they cannot, and yet can be gratified imprudently and viciously; this as really puts them in
danger of voluntarily foregoing their present interest or
good, as their future, and as really renders self-denial necessary to secure one as the other; i. e. we are in a like state
of trial with respect to both, by the very samre passions, ex.
cieted by the very same means.  Thus, mankind having a
temporal interest depending upon themselves, and a prudenl
course of behaviour being necessary to secure it, passions
* See Sermons preached at the Rolls, 1726, 2d Ed. 205, &c  Plef. p.
25,&e. Serm. p. 21, &c.




CHAP. IV.]      OF A STATE OF TRIAL.                  87
inordinately excited, whether by means of example or by
any other external circumstance, towards such objects, a,
such times, or in such degrees, as that they cannot be gratified consistently with worldly prudence, are temptations
dangerous, and too often successful temptations, to forego a
greater temporal good for a less; i. e. to forego what is, upon
the whole, our temporal interest, for the sake of a present
gratification. This is a description of our state of trial in
our temporal capacity. Substitute now the wordftfture for
temporal, and virtue for prudence, and it, will be just as proper
a description of our state of trial in our religious capacity 
5o analogous are they to each other.
If, from consideration of this our like state of trial in both
capacities, we go on to observe farther, how mankind behave under it, we shall find there are some who have so
little sense of it, that they scarce look beyond the passing
day; they are so taken up with present gratifications, as to
have, in a manner, no feeling of consequences, no regard to
their future ease or fortune in this life, any more than to their
happiness in another.  Some appear to be blinded and de.
ceived by inordinate passion, in their worldly concerns, as
much as in religion. Others are, not deceived, but, as it
were, forcibly carried away, by the like passions, against
their better judgment, and feeble resolutions, too, of acting
better. And there are men, and truly they are not a few,
who shamelessly avow, not their interests, but their mere
will and pleasure, to be their law of life; and who, in open
defiance of every thing that is reasonable, will go on in a
course of vicious extravagancte, foreseeing, with no remorse
and little-fear, that $. will be their temporal ruin; and some
of them, under the" apprehension of the consequences of
wickedness in another state: and, to speak in the most
moderate way, human creatures are not only continually liable to go wrong voluntarily, but we see likewise that they
often actually do so, with respect to their temporal interests,
as well as with respect to religion.
Thus, our difficulties and dangers, or our trials in our
temporal and our religious capacity, as they proceed from
the same causes, and have the same effect upon men's
beha viour, are evidently analogous, and of the same kind.
It may be added, that as the difficulties and dangers of
miscarrying in our religious state of trial are greatly increased, and, one is ready to think, in a manner wholly
made, by the ill-behaviour of others: by a wrong education,




88              OF A STATE OF rRIAL.           LPART X.
wrong in a moral sense, sometimes positively vicious; by
general bad example; by the dishonest artifices which are
got into business of all kinds; and, in very many parts of
the world, by religion being corrupted intoA superstitions
which indulge men in their vices; so, in like manner, the
difficulties of conducting ourselves prudently in respect to
our present interests: and our danger of being led aside from
pursuing it, are greatly increased by a foolish education, and,
after we come to mature age, by the extravagance and
carelessness of others, whom we have intercourse with;
and by mistaken notions, very generally prevalent, and taken up from common opinion, concerning temporal happiness, and wherein it consists. And persons, by their own
negligence and folly in their temporal affairs, no less than
by a course of vice, bring themselves into new difficulties,
and, by habits of indulgence, become less qualified to go
through them; and one irregularity after another embarrasses things to such a degree, that they know not where.
about they are, and often makes the path of conduct so intricate and perplexed, th)at it is difficult to trace it out; diffi.
cult even to determine what is the prudent or the moral part.
Thus, -for instance, wrong behaviour in one stage of life.
youth; wrong, I mean, considering ourselves only in oui
temporal capacity, without taking in religion; this, in several ways, increases the difficulties of right behaviour in
mature age; i. e. puts us into a more-disadvantageous state
of trial in our temporal capacity.
We are an inferior part of the creation of God.  There
are natural appearances of our being in a state of degradation;   and we certainly are in a condition which does
not seem, by any means, the most' advantageous we could
imagine or desire, either in our natural or moral capacity, for
securing' either our present or future interest.  However,
this condition, low, and careful, and uncertain as it is, does
not afford any just ground of complaint:. For, as -men may
manage their temporal affairs with prudence, and so pass
their days here on earth in tolerable ease and satisfaction, by
a moderate degree of care; so, likewise, with regardto religion, there is no more required than what they are wall able
to do, and what they must be greatly wanting to themselves
if they neglect. And for persons to have that put upon
them which they are well able to go through, and no more,
* Part 2, Chap. 5.




CHAP. IV.]     OF A STATE OF TRIAL.                89
*we nat.rally consider as an equitable thing, supposing it
done by proper authority. Nor have we any mnore reason to
complain of it, with regard to the Author of nature, than
of his not haying given us other advantages, belonging to
other orders of creatures.
But the thing here insisted upon is, that the state of trial
which religion teaches us we are in, is rendered credible, by its being throughout uniform and of a pi ce
with the general conduct of Providence towards us, in
all other respects within the compass of our knowledge.
Indeed, if mankind, considered in their natural capacity
as inhabitants of this world only, found themselves, from
their birth to their death in a settled state of security
and happiness, without any solicitude or thought of
their own; or, if they were in no danger of being brought
into inconveniences and distress by carelessness, or the folly
of passion, through bad example, the treachery of others,
or the deceitful appearances of things; were this our natural condition, then-it might seem strange, and be some presumption against the truth of religion, that it represents our
future and more general interest, as not secure of course,
but as depending -Upon our behaviour and requiring recollection and self-government to obtain it. For it might be alleged,' What you say is our condition in one respect, is not
in any wise of a sort with what we find, by experience, our
condition is in another.  Our whole present interest is secured to our hands, without any solicitude of ours, and why
should not our future interest, if we have any such, be so
too i' But since, on the contrary, thought and consideration, the voluntary denying Ourselves many things which
we desire, and a course of behaviour far from being always
agreeable to us, are absolutely necessary to our acting even
a common decent, and common prudent part, so as to pass
with any satisfaction through the present world, and be received upon any tolerable good terms in it; since this is the
case, all' presumption against self-denial and attention being
necessary to secure our highest interest, is removed. Had
we not experience, it might, perhaps, speciously be urged,
that it is improbable any thing of hazard and danger should
be put upon us by an infinite Being, when every thing
which is hazard and danger in our mnanner of conception,
and will end in error, confusion, and misery, is now already
certain in his foreknowledge. And, indeed, why any thing
of hazard and danger should be put upon such frail creatures




90              OF A STATE OF TRIAL.           I PART L
as we are, may well be thought a difficulty in speculation;
and cannot but be so, till we know the whole, or, however,
much more of the case. But still the constitution of nature
is as it is.  Our happiness and misery are trusted to our
conduct, and made to depend upon it. Somewhat, and, in
Many circumstances, a great deal too, is put upon us, either to
do, or to suffer, as we choose. And all the various miseries
of life, which people bring upon themselves by negligence
and folly, and might have avoided by proper care, are in.
stances of this; which miseries are, beforehand, just as con.
tingent and undetermined as their conduct, and left to be
determined by it.
These observations are an answer to the objections
against the credibility of a state of trial, as implying temptations, and real danger of miscarrying with regard to our
general interest, under the moral government of God; and
they show, that, if we are at all to be considered in such a
capacity, and as having such an interest, the general analo.
gy of Providence must lead us to apprehend ourselves in
danger of miscarrying, in different degrees, as to this interest, by our neglecting to act the proper part belonging to us
in that capacity. For we have a present interest, under
the government of God which we experience here upon
earth. And this interest, as it is not forced upon us, so neither is it offered to our acceptance, but to our acquisition;
in such sorts as that we are in danger of missing it, by
means of temptations to neglect or act contrary to it; and
without attention and self-denial, must and do miss of it. It
is then perfectly credible, that this may be our case with
respect to that chief and final good which religion proposes
to us.




OaAP. V.)         MORAL DISCIPLINE.                 91
CHAPTER V.
Of a State of Probation, as intended for JMoral Discipline and
Improvement.
FROM the consideration of our being in a probation-state,
of so much difficulty and. hazard, naturally arises the question, how we came to be placed in it?  But such a general
inquiry as this would be found involved in insuperable difficulties. For, though some of these difficulties would be
lessened by observing, that all wickedness, is voluntary, as
is implied in its very notion, and that many of the miseries of
life have apparent good effects, yet when we consider other
circumstances belonging to both, and what must be the consequence of the former in a life to come, it cannot but be
acknowledged plain folly and presumption, to pretend to
give an account of the wThole reasons of this matter; the
~whole reasons of our being alloted a condition, out of which
so much wickedness and misery, so circumstanced, would
ill fact arise.  Whether it be not beyond our faculties,
not only to find out, but -even to understand, the whole account of this; or, though we should be supposed capable of
understanding it,'yet, whether it would be of service or pre.
judice to us to be informed of it, is impossible to say.  But
as our present condition can in no wise be shown inccnsistent with the perfect moral government of God; so religion teaches us we are placed in it, that we might qualify
ourselves, by-the practice of virtue, for another state, which
is to follow it. And this, though but a partial answer,a
very partial one indeed, to the inquiry now mentioned, yet
is a more satisfactory answer to another, which is of real,
and of the utmost importance to us to have answered-the'
inquiry,- What is our business here? The known end, then,
why we are placed in a state of so much affliction, hazard,




92                  OF A STATE OF              [LPART 1.
and difficulty, is, our improvement in virtue and piety, as
the requisite qualification for a future state of security and
happiness.
Now, the beginning of life, considered as an education for
mature age in the present world, appears plainly, at first
sight, analogous to this our trial for a future one; the former being, in our temporal capacity, what the latter is in
our religious capacity. ~ But some observations common to
both of them, and a more distinct consideration of each, will
more distinctly show the extent and force of the analogy between them; and the credibility, which arises from  hence,
as well as from the nature of the thing, that the present
life was intended to be a state of discipline for a future.one.
I. Every species of creature is, we see, designed for a
particular way of life, to which the nature, the capacities,
temper, and qualifications of each species, are as necessary
as their external circumstances.  Both come into the notion of such state, or particular way of life, and are constitu
ent parts of it.' Cha'ige a man's capacities or character to
the degree in which it is conceivable they may be changed,
and he would be altogether incapable of a human course of
life and human happiness; as incapable, as if, his nature continuing unchanged, he were placed in a world where he
had no sphere of action, nor any objects to answer his appetites, passions, and affections of any sort. One thing is set
over against another, as an ancient writer expresses it. Out
nature corresponds to our external condition. Without this
correspondence, there would be no possibility of any such
thing as human life and human happiness; which life and
happiness are, therefore, a result from our nature and condition jointly;. meaning by human life, not living in the liter-1 sense, but the whole complex notion commonly understood by those words. So that, without determining what
will be the' employment and happiness, the particular
life of good men hereafter, there'must be some determinate
capacities, some necessary character and qualifications,
without which persons cannot but be utterly incapable of it;
in.like manner as thero must be some, without which men
would be incapable of their present state of life. Now,
II. The constitution of human creatures, anad indeed of
all creatures which come under our notice, is such, as that
they are capable of naturally becoming qualified for states
of life, for which they were once wholly unqualified.  In
imagination we may indeed conceive of creatures, as inca



CHAP. V.]          MORAL DISCIPLINE.                 93
pable of having any of their faculties naturally enlarged, or
as being unable naturally to acquire any new qualifications;
but the faculties of every species known to us are made for
enlargement, for acquirements of experience and habits.
We find ourselves, in particular, endued with capacities, not
only of perceiving ideas, and of knowledge or perceiving
truth, but also of storing up our ideas and knowledge by
memory. We are capable, not only of acting, and of having different momentary impressions made upon us, but of
getting a new facility in any kind of action, and of settled
alterations in our temper or character.  The power of the
two last is the power of habits. But neither the perception
of ideas, nor knowledge of any sort, are habits, though absolutely necessary to the forming of them. However, apprehension, retason, memory, which are the capacities' of
acquiring knowledge, are greatly improved by exercise.
Whether the word habit is applicable to all these improvements, and, in particular, how far the powers of memory and
of habits may be powers of the same nature, I shall'not inquire.  But that perceptions come into our minds readily
and of course, by means of their having been there before,
seems a thing of the same sort, as readiness in any particular kind of action; proceeding from being accustomed to it.
And aptness to recollect practical observations of service,in
our conduct, is plainly habit in many cases. There are
habits of perception and habits of action. An instance
of the former, is our constant and even involuntary readiness in correcting the impressions of our sight concerning
magnitudes and distances, so as to substitute judgment in
the room of sensation, imperceptibly to ourselves. And it
seems as if all other associations of ideas, not naturally connected, might be called passive habits, as properly as our
readiness in understanding languages upon sight, or hearing
oT words.  And our readiness'in speaking and writing them
is an instance of the latter, of active habits. For distinctness, we may consider habits as belonging to the body,
or the mind, and the latter will be explained by the former.
Under the former are comprehended all bodily activities or
notions, whether gracefuil or.unbecoming, which are owing
to use; under the latter, general habits of life and conduct,
suchl as those of obedience and submission to authority, or
to any particular person; those of veracity, justice, and
charity;'those of attention, industry, self-government, envy,
revenge. And habits of this latter kind seem produced by




34                  OF A STATE OF               [PART I.
repeated acts, as well as the former.  And in like manner,
as habits belonging to the body are produced by external
acts, so habits of the mind are produced by the exertions of
inward practical principles; i. e. by carrying them into act,
or acting upon them, the principles of obedience, of veracity, justice, and charity. Nor can those habits be formed by
any external course of action, otherwise than as it proceeds
from these principles; because it is only these inward principles exerted, which are strictly acts of obedience, of veracity,
of justice, and of charity. So, likewise, habits of attention, ind ustry, self-government, are, in the same manner, acquired
by exercise; and habits of envy and revenge by indulgence,
whether in outward act or in thought and intention i. e. inward act; for such intention is an act. Resolutions to
do well are properly acts: and endeavrouring to enforce
upon our own miids a practical sense of virtue, or to beget in
others that practical sense of it which a man really has
himself, is a virtuous act. All these, therefore, may anl -will
contribute towards forming good habits.  But, going over
the theory of virtue in one's thoughts, talking well, and drawing'fine pictures of it, this is so far from necessarily or certainly conducing to form a habit of it in him who thus errploys himself, that it may harden the mind in a contrary
course, and render it gradually more insensible, i. e. form
a *habit of insensibility to all moral considerations. For,
from our very faculty of habits, passive impressions, by being
repeated, grow weaker. Thoughts, by often passing through
the mind, are felt less sensibly; being accustomed to danger,
begets intrepidity, i. e. lessens fear; to distress, lessens the
passion of pity; to instances of others' mortality, lessens
the sensible apprehension of our own.. And from these two
observations together, that practical habits are formed-and
strengthened by repeated acts, and that passive impressions
grow weaker by being repeated upon us, it must follow,
that active habits may be gradually forming and strengthening, by a course of acting upon such and such motives
and excitements, whilst these motives and excitements,
themselves are, by proportionable degrees, growing less sensible; i. e. are continually tess and less sensibly felt, even
as the active habits strengthen. And experience confirms
this; for Ractive principles, at the very time that they are
less lively in perception than they were, are found to' be
some how wrought more thoroughIy into the temper ancd
character, and become more effectual in influencing o




CHAP. v.]         MORAL DISCIPLINE.
practice. The three things just mentioned may afford instances of it. Perception of danger is a natural excitement
of passive fear, and active caution; and, by being inured to
danger, habits of the latter are gradually wrought, at the
same time that the former gradually lessens.  Perception
of distress in others is a natural excitement, passively to
pity, and actively to relieve it; but let a man set himself to
attend to, inquire out, and relieve distressed persons, and he
cannot but grow less and less sensibly affected with the varicus miseries of life, with which he must become acquainted; when yet, at the same time, benevolence, considered
not as a passion, but as a practical principal of action, will
strengthern; and, whilst he passively compassionates the
distressed less, he will acquire a greater aptitude actively to
assist and befriend them. So also at the same time that the
daily instances of men's dying around us give us daily a
less sensible passive feeling or apprehension of our own
mortality, such instances greatly contribute to the strengthening a practical regard to it in serious men; i. e. to forming
a habit of acting with a constant view to it. And this
seems again further to show, that passive impressions made
upon our minds by admonition, experience; example, though
they may have a remote efficacy, and a very great one, towards forming active habits, yet can have this efficacy no
otherwise than by inducing us to such a course of action;
and that it is, not being affected so and so, but acting, which
forms those habits; only it must be always remembered,
that real endeaxvours to enforce good impressions upon ourselves, are a species of virtuous action.  Nor do we know
how  far it is possible, in the nature of things, that effects
should be wrought in us at once equivalent to habits, i. e.
what is wrought by use and exercise.  However, the thing
insisted upon is, not what may be possible, but what is in fact
the appoint.ment of nature, which is, that active habits are
to be formed by exercise.  Their progress may be so gradual as to be imperceptible of its steps; it may be hard to explain the faculty by which we are capable of habits, throughout. its several parts, and to trace it up to its original, so as
to distinguish it from all others in our mind; and it seems as
if contrary effects were to be ascribed to it.  But the thing
in general, that our nature is formed to yield, in some such
manner as this, to use and exercise, is matter of certain -ex.
perience.
Thus, by accustoming ourselves to any course of action




~.~                 OF A STATE OF             LPART I.
we get an aptness to go on, a facility, readiness, and otten
pleasure in it. The inclinations which rendered us averse
to it grow weaker; the difficulties in it, not only the imaginary, but'the real ones, lessen; the reasons for it offer
themselves of course to our thoughts upon all occasions;
and the least glimpse of them is sufficient to make us go
on in a course of action to which we have been accustomed.
And practical principles appear to grow stronger absolutely
in themselves, by exercise, as well as relatively, with regard
to contrary principles; which, by being accustomed to submit, do so habitually, and of course. And thus a new character, in several respects, may be formed; and many habitudes of life, not given by nature, but which nature directs
us to acquire.
III. Indeed we may be assured, that vwe should never have
had these capacities of improving by experience, acquired
knowledge and habits, had they not been necessary, and intended to be made use of. And, accordingly, we find them
so necessary, and so much intended, that without them we
should be utterly incapable of that which was the end,.for
which we were made, considered in. our temporal capacity
only; the employments and satisfactions of our mature
state of life.
Nature does in no wise qualify us wholly, much less at
once, for this mature state of life. Even maturity of understanding and bodily strength are not only arrived to gradually, but are als  r very much owing to the continued exercise of our powers of body and mind from infancy. But if
we suppose a person brought into the world with both these
in maturity, as far as this is conceivable, he would plainly
at first be as unqualified for the human life of mature age, as
an idiot.  He would be in a manner distracted with astonishment, and apprehension, and curiosity, and suspense;
nor can one guess how long it would be before he would be
familiarized to himself, and the objects about him, enough
even to set himself to any thing.- It may be questioned
too, whether the natural information of his sight and hearing would be of any manner of use at all to him in acting,
before experience. And it seems that men would be strange.
y headstrong and self-willed, and disposed to exert them.
selves with an impetuosity which would render society in.
supportable, and the living in it impracticable, were it not
for some acquired moderation and self-government, some
aptitude and readiness in restraining themselves, and con



CHAP. V.]         MORAL DISCIPLINE.                 g7
cealing their sense of things. Want of every thing of this
kind which is learned, would render a man as incapable of
society as want of language would-; or as his natural
ignorance of any of the particular employments of life, would
render him incapable of providing himself with the common conveniences or supplying the necessary wants of it.
In these respects, and probably in many more, of which gwe
have no particular notion, mankind is left by nature an unformed, unfinished creature, utterly deficient and unqualified,
before the acquirement of knowledge, experience, and
habits, for that mature state of life, which was the end of
his creation, considering him as related only to this world.
But then, as nature has endued us with a power of supplying those deficiencies, by acquired knowledge, experience, and habits; so, likewise, we are placed in a condition,
in infancy, childhood, and youth, fitted for it; fitted for our
acquiring those qualifications of all sorts, which we stand
in need of in mature age.  Hence children, from their very
birth, are daily growing acquainted with the objects about
them, with the scene in which they are placed, and to have
a future part; and learning somewhat or other, necessary
to the performance of it.  The subordinations, to which
they are accustomed in domestic life, teach them self-government in common behaviour abroad, and prepare them for
subjection and obedience to civil authority. What passes
before their eyes, and daily happens to them, gives them experience, caution against treachery and deceit, together with
numberless little rules of action and conduct, which we could
not live without, and which are learned so insensibly and so
perfectly, as to be mistaken perhaps for instinct; though they
are the effect of long experience and exercise-: as much so as
language, or knowledge in particular business, or the qualificationsand behaviour belonging to the several ranks and profeszions. Thus, the beginning of our days is adapted to be,
and is, a state of education in the theory and practice of
mature life. W~e are much assisted in it by example, instruction, and the care of others; but a great deal is left to'ourselves to do. And of this, as part is done easily and of
course, so part requires diligence and care, the voluntary
foregoing many things which we desire, and setting ourselves to what we should have no inclination to, but for the
necessity or expedience of it. For that labor and industry
which the station of so many absolutely requires, they would
be greatly unqualified for in maturity, as those in- other sta5




08                  OF A STATE OF               [PART
tions.would be for any other sorts of application, if both were'rot accustomed to them in their youth. And according as
persons behave themselves, in the general education which
all go through, and in the particular ones adapted to particular employments, their character is formed, and made appear; they recommend themselves more or less; and are
capable of, and placed in, different stations in the society of
mankind.
The former part of life, then, is to be considered as an important opportunity, which nature puts into our hands, and
which, when lost, is not to be recovered. And our being
placed in a state of discipline throughout this life, for another
world, is a providential disposition of things, exactly of the
same kind as our being placed in a state of discipline during
childhood, for mature age.  Our condition in both respects
is uniform and of a piece, and comprehended under one and
the same general. law of nature.
And if we are not able at all to discern, how or in what
way the present life could be our preparation for another,
this would be no objection against the credibility of its being
so. For we do not discern how food and sleep contribute
to the growth of the body, nor could have any thought that
they would, before we had -experience.  Nor dochildren at
all think, on the one hand, that the sports and exercises,.to
which they are so much addicted, contribute to their health
and growth; nor, on the other, of the necessity which theim
is for their being restrained in them; nor are they capable
of understanding the use of many parts of discipline, which
nevertheless they must be made to go through, in order to
qualify them for the business of mature age.  Were we not
able, then, to discover in what respect the present life could
form us for a future one, yet nothing -would be more suDposible than that it might; in some respects or other, from thle
general analogy of Providence. And this, for aught 1 see,
might reasonably be-said) even though we should not take
in the consideration of God's moral government ow'er the
world. But,
IV. -Take in this consideration, and consequently, that
the character of virtue and piety is a necessary qualification
for the future state, and then we may distinctly see how,
and in what respects, the present life mnay be a preparation fox
it; since we want, and are capable of improvement in that chearl
acter, by moral and religious habits; and-the present liJe is,it
to be a state of discipline for such improvement; it, like manner,




CHAP. V ]        MORAL DISCIPLINE.                 99
as we have already observed, how, and in what respects,
infancy, childhood, and youth, are a necessary preparation,
and a natural state of discipline, for mature age.
Nothing which we at present see would lead us to the
thought of a solitary inactive state hereafter, but, if we judge
at all frorm the analogy of nature, we must suppose, according to the Scripture account of i*, that it will be a communi-'y. - And there is no shadow of any thing unreasonable in
conceiving, though there be no analogy for it, that. this comnunity will be, as the Scripture represents it, under the
more immediatd, or, if such an expression may be used, the
more sensible government of God.  Nor is our ignorance,
what will be the employments of this happy community,
nor our consequent ignorance, what particular scope or occasion there will be for the exercise of veracity,- justice, and
charity, amongst the members of it with regard to each
other, any proof that there will be no sphere of exercise for
those virtues. Much less, if that were possible, is our ignorance any proof that there will be no occasion for that frame
of mind, or character, which is formed by the daily practice
of those particular virtues here, and which is a result from
it. This at least must be owned in general, that as the government established in the universe' is moral, the character
of virtue and piety must, in some way or other, be the condition of our happiness, ot the qualification for it.
Now, from what is above observed concerning our natural power of habits, it is easy to see, that we are capable of
moral improvement by discipline.  And how greatly we
want it; need not be proved to any one who is acquainted
with the great wickedness of mankind, or even with those
imperfections which the best are conscious of. But it is not
perhaps distinctly attended to by every one, that the occasions which human creatures have for discipline, to improve
in them this character of virtue and piety, is to be traced up
higher than to excess in the passions, by indulgence and
habits of vice.. Mankind, and perhaps all finite creatures,
from the very constitution of their nature, before habits of
virtue, are deficient; and in danger of deviating from what is
right, and therefore stand in need of virtuous habits for a se.
curity against this danger.  For, together with the general
principal of moral understanding, we have in our inward
frame various affections towards particular external objects.
These affections are naturally, and of right, subject to the
government of the moral princiole, as to the occasions upon




100                    OF A STATE OF                   [PART 1.
which they may be gratified, as to the times, degrees, and
manner, in which the objects of them may be pursued; but
then the principle of virtue can neither excite them, nor pre.
vent their being excited. On the contrary, they are natu.
rally felt, when the objects of them are present to the mind,
not only before all consideration whether they can be obtained by lawful means, but after it is found they cannot.
For the natural 6bjects of affection continue so; the necessaries, conveniences, and pleasures of life, remain naturally
desirable, though they cannot be obtained innocently; nay,
though they cannot possibly be obtained at hll.  And when
the objects of any affection whatever cannot be obtained
without unlawful means, but may be obtained by them, such
affection, -though its being excited, and its continuing some
time in the mind, be as innocent as it is natural and necessary, yet cannot but be conceived to have a tendency to incline persons to venture upon such. unlawful means, and
therefore must be conceived as putting them in some danger
of it. Now, what is the general security against this danger, against their actually deviating from  right? as the
danger is, so also must the security be, from within, from the
practical principle of virtue.?   And the strengthening or
improving this principle, considered as practical, or as a
principle of action, will lessen the danger or increase the security against it. And this moral principle is capable of
improvement, by proper discipline and exercise; by recollecting the practical impressions which example and expe.
iience have made upon us; and, instead of following humor
and mere inclination, by continually attending to the'equity
and right of the case, in whatever we are engaged, be-it in
* It may be thought that a sense of interest would as effectually restrain
creatures from doing wrong. - But if by a sense of interest is meant, a
speculative conviction or belief that such and suc: indulgence would occa.
sion them greater uneasiness, upon the whole, than satisfaction, it is contrary to present experience to sayv. that this sense of interest is sufficient to
restrain them from thus indulging themselves. And if by a sense of interest is meant, a practical regard to what is upon the whole our happiness, this is not only coincident.with the principle of virtue or moral rectitude, but is a part of the idea itself: And it is evident this reasonable selflove wants to be improved, as really as any principle in our nature. For
we daily see it overnnatched, not only by the more boisterous passions, but
by curiosity, shamne, love of imitation, by any thing, ev}en indolence: especially it' the interest, the temporal interest, suppose, which is the end ot
such self-love, be at a distance. So greatly are profligate men mistaken,
when they affirm they are wholly governed by interestedness and self-love
And so hlittle cause is there for moralists to disclaim this principle.




tHAP. V.]          MORAL DISCIPLINE.                 101
greater or less matters, and accustoming ourselves always
to act upcn it, as being itself the just and natural motive of
action; and as this moral course of behaviour must necessarily, under divine government, be our final interest. Thus
the principle of virtue, improved into a habit, of which improvement twe are thus capable, will plainly be, in proportion to the
strength of it, a security against the danger which finite creatures are in, from the very nature of propension, or particular
affections.  This way of putting the matter supposes particular affections to remain in a future state, which it is scarce
possible to avoid supposing. And if they do, we clearly'se, that acquired habits of virtue and self-government may
be necessary for the regulation of them. However, though
we were not distinctly to take in this supposition, but to
speak only in general, the thing really comes to the same.
For habits of virtue, thus acquired by discipline, are improvement in virtue; and improvement in virtue must be advancement in happiness, if the government of the universe be moral.
From these things we may observe, and it will farther
show this our natural and original need of being improved
by discipline, how it comes to pass, that creatures, made up.
right, fall; and that those who preserve their uprightness,
by so doing, raise themselves to a more secure state of vir
tue.  To say that the former is accounted for by the nature
of liberty, is to say no more than that an event's actually
happening is accounted for by a mere possibility of its happening.  But it seems distinctly conceivable from  the very
nature of particular affections or propensions.  For, suppose creatures intended for such a particular state of life,
for which such propensions were necessary; suppose them
endued with such propensions, together with moral understanding, as well including a practical sense of virtue as a
speculative perception of it; and that all theise several principles, both natural and -moral, forming an inward constitution of mind, were in the most exact proportion possible, i. e.
in a proportion the most exactly adapted to their intended
state of life; such creatures would be made upright, or finitely perfect.  Now, particular propensions; from their very
nature, must be felt, the objects of them being present, though
they cannot be gratified at all, or not with the allow'zance of
the moral principle.  But if they can be gratified without'its allowance, or by contradicting it, then they inust be cotl,
ceived to have some tendency, in how low a degree soeve4t
ygt bome tendency, to induce persons to such forbiddtei




102                 OF A STATE OF              [PART 1,
gratification. This tendency, in some one particular pro.
pension, may be increased, by the greater frequency of occasions naturally exciting it, than of occasions exciting
others. The least voluntary indulgence in forbidden circumstances, though but in thought, will increase this wrong
tendency, and may increase it further, till, peculiar conjectures perhaps conspiring, it becomes effect; and danger of
deviating from right, ends in actual deviation from it; a danger necessarily arising from the very nature of propension,
and which, therefore, could not have been prevented, though
it might have been escaped, or got innocently through. The
case would be, as if we were to suppose a straight path
marked out for a person, in which such a degree of attention
would keep-him steady; but if he would not attend in this
degree, any one of a thousand objects -catching his eye, might
lead him out of it. Now, it is impossible to say, how much
even the first full overt act of irregularity might disorder the
inward constitution, unsettle the adjustments, and alter the
proportions which formed it, and in which the uprightness
of its make consisted.  But repetition of irregularities would
produce habits: and thus the constitution would be spoiled,
and creatures, made upright, become corrupt and depraved
in their settled character, proportionably to their repeated
irregularities in occasional acts. But, on the contrary, these
creatures might have improved and raised themselves to a
higher and more secure state of virtue, by the contrary behaviour, by steadily following the moral principle, suppose&
to be one part of their nature, and thus notwithstanding that
unavoidable danger of defection, which necessarily arose
from propension, the other part of it, For, by thus preserving their integrity for some time, their danger would lessen,
since propensions, by being inured to submit, would do it
more easily and of course; and their security against this
lessening danger would increase, since the moral principle
would gain additional strength by exercise; both which
things are implied in the notion of virtuous habits.  Thus,
then, vicious indulgence is not only cririnal in itself, but also
depraves the inward constitution and jharacter. And virtuous self-governmentis not only rightin itself, but also iinproves the inward constitution or character; and may improve it to such a degree, that though we should suppose it
impossible for particular affections to be absolutely coinci.
dent with the moral principle, and consequently should allow that such creatures as have been above supposed would




CLAP. V.]         MORAL DISCIPLINE.                 103
for ever remain defectible; yet their danger of actually de.
viating from right may be almost infinitely lessened, and
they fully fortified against what remains of it; if that may
be, called danger, against which there is an adequate effectual security. But still, this their higher perfection may
continue to consist in habits of virtue formed in a state of
discipline, /rnd this their more complete security remain to
proceed from them.- And thus it is plainly conceivable, that
creatures without blemish, as they came out of the hands
of God, may be in danger of going wrong, and so may stand
in need of the. security of virtuous habits, additional to the
moral principle wrought into their natures by him. That
which is the ground'of their danger, or their want of security,. may be considered as a deficiency in them, to which virtuous -habits are the natural supply. And. as they are nat-'urally capable of being raised and improved by discipline, it
may be a thing fit and requisite, that they should be placed
in circumstances with an eye to it; in circumstances pecu-liarly fitted to be, to them, a state of discipline for their improvement in virtue.
But how much more strong must this hold with respect to
those who have corrupted their natures, are fallen from their
original rectitude, and whose passions are-become excessive
by repeated violations of their inward constitution?  Upright creatures may Lwant to be improved; depraved creatures want to be renewed.  Education and discipline,, which
may be in all degrees and sorts of gentleness and of severity, is expedient for those; but must be absolutely necessary
for these, For these, diciphne, of the severer sort too, and
in the higher degrees of It, must be necessary, in order to
wear out vicious habits; to recover their primitive strength
of self-government, which indulgence must have weakened;
to repair, as well as raise into a habit', the moral principle, in
order to their arriving at a secure state of virtuous happiness,
Now, whoever will consider the thing may clearly see,
that the present world is peculiarly fit to be a state of discipline for this purpose, to such as will set themselves to mend
and improve. For, the various temptations with which we
are surrounded; our experience of the deceits of wickedness; having been in imany instances led wrong ourselves;
the great viciousness of the world; the infinite disorders
consequent upon it.; our being made acquainted with pain
and sorrow, either from our own feeling of it, or from the
sight of it in others;. these things, though some of them may




104                OF A STATFE Or             LPkR.' I.
indeed produce wrong effects upon our minds, yet, when due
ly reflected upon, have all of them a direct tendency to bring
us to a settled moderation and reasonableness of temper; the
contrary both to thoughtless levity, and also to that unre
strained self-will, and violent bent to follow present inclina
tion, which may be observed in undisciplined minds. Such
experience, as the present state affords, of the frailty of our
natures of the boundless extravagance of ungoverned pas.
sion, of the power which an infinite Being has over us, by
the various capacities of misery which he has given us; in
short, that kind and degree of experience which the present
state affords us, that the constitution of nature is such as to
admit the possibility, the danger, and'the actual event, of
creatures losing their innocence and happiness, and becoming vicious, and wretched; hath a tendency to give a practical sense of things very different from a mere speculative
knowledge, that we are liable to vice, and capable of misery.
And who knows, whether the security of creatures in the
highest and most settled state of perfection, may not, in part,
arise from their having had such a sense of things as this,
formed, and habitually fixed within them, in some state of
probation?  And passing through the present world with
that moral attention which is necessary to the acting a right
part in it, may leave everlasting impressions of this sort upon our minds.  But to be a little more distinct: allurements
to: what is wrong; difficulties in the discharge of our duty;
our not beingl able to act a uniform right part without some
thought and care; and the opportunities which we have, or
imagine we have, of avoiding what we dislike, or obtaining
what we desire, by unlawful means, when we either cannot
do it at all, or at least not so easily, by lawful ones; these
things, i. e. the snares and temptations of vice, are what render the present world peculiarly fit to be a state of discipline
to those who will preserve their inrtegrity; because they render being upon our guard, resolution, and the denial of our
passions, necessary in order to that end. And the exercise
of such particular recollection, intention of mind, and self.
government, in the practice of virtue, has, from the make of
our nature, a peculiar tendency to form habits of virtue, as
implying not only a real, but also a more continued, and a
more intense exercise of the - virtuous principle; or a more
constant and a stronger effort of virtue exerted into -act
Thus, suppose a person to know himself to be in particular
danger, for some time, of doing any thing wrong, which yet




CHAP. V.]         MORAL DISCIPLINE.                105
he fully resolves not to do, continued recollection, and keep.
hig upon his guard, in order to make good his resolution, is
a continued exerting of that act of virtue in a high degree,
which need have been, and perhaps would have been, only
instantaneous and weak, had the temptation been so. It is
indeed ridiculous to assert, that self-denial is essential to virtue and piety; but it would have been nearer the truth,
though not strictly the truth itself,; to have said, that it is essential to discipline and improvement. For, though- actions
materially virtuous,'which have no sort of difficulty, but are
perfectly agreeable to our particular inclinations, may possibly-be done only from these particular inclinations, and so
may not be any exercise of the principle of virtue, i. e. not
be virtuous actions at all; yet, on the contrary, they may be
an exercise of that principle, and, when they are, they have
a tendency to form and fix the habit of virtue.  But when
the exercise of the virtuous principle is more continued, oftener repeated, and more intense, as it must be in circumstances of danger, temptation, and difficulty, of any kind
and in any degree, this tendency is increased proportionably.
and a more confirmed habit is-the consequence.
This undoubtedly holds to a certain length, but how far it
may hold, I know not. Neither our intellectual powers, nor
our bodily strength, can be improved beyond such a degree;
and both may be over-wrought.  Possibly there may be
somewhat analogous to this, with respect to the moral character; which is-scarce worth considering.. And I mention
it only, lest it should come into some persons thoughts, not
as an exception to the foregoing observations, which perhaps it is, but as a confutation of them, which it is not.
And there may be several other exceptions. Obgervations
of this kind cannot be supposed to hold minutely, and in
every case. It is enough that they hold in general. And
these plainly hold so far, as that from themi may be seen distinctly, which is all that is intended by them, that the p2esent world is peculiarly fit to be a state of discipline for our improvement in virtue and piety; in the same -'sense as some
sciences, by requiring and engaging the attention, not to be
sure of such -persons as will not, but of such as will, set
themselves to them, are fit to form the mind to habits of
attention.
Indeed, the present state is so far from proving, in event,
a discipline of virtue to the generality of men, that: or! the
contrary, they seem  to make it a discipliue of vice. And




106                 OF A STATE oF             [PART I.
the viciousness of the world is, in different ways, the great
temptation, which renders it a state of virtuous discipline, in
the degree it is, to good men. The whole end, and the
whole occasion of mankind being placed in such a state as
the present, is not pretended to be accounted for. That
which appears amidst the general corruption is, that there
are some persons, who, having within them the principle of
amendment and recovery, attend to and follow the notices of
virtue and religion, be they more clear or more obscure,
which are.afforded them   and that the present world is, not
only an exercise of virtue in these persons, but an exercise
of it in ways and degrees peculiarly apt to improve it; apt
to improve it, in some respects, even beyond what would be
by the exercise of it required in a perfectly virtuous society,
or in a society of equally Imperfect virtue with themselves.
But that the present world does not actually become a state
of moral discipline to many, even to the generality, i. e. that
they do not improve or grow better in it, cannot be urged as
a proof that it was not intended for moral discipline, by any
who at all observe the analogy of nature. For of the nu.
merous seeds of vegetables and bodies of animals, which
are adapted and& pkit in the way, to improve to such a point
or state of natural maturity and perfection, we do not see
perhaps that one in a million actually does. Far the. greatest part of them decay before they are improved to it, and
appear to be absolutely destroyed. Yet no one, who does
not deny all final causes, will deny, that those seeds and bodies which do attain to that point of maturity and perfection,
answer the end for which they were really designed by na.
ture; and therefore that nature designed them for such perfection. And I cannot forbear adding, though it is not to the'present purpose, that the appearance of such an amazing
waste in nature, with respect to. these seeds and bodies, by
foreign causes, is to us as unaccountable, as, what is much
more terrible, the present and future ruin of so many moral
agents by themselves, i. e. by vice.
Against this whole notion of mroral discipline it may be
objected, in another way, that so far as a course of beha.
viour, materially virtuous, proceeds from hope and fear, so
far it is only a discipline and strengthening of self-love. But
doing what God commands, because he commands it, is
obedience, though it proceeds from hope or fear. And a
course of such obedience will form habits of it; and a con.
stant regard to veracity, justice, and charity, may form dis




CRAP. V.]          MORAL DISCIPLINE.                 10g
tinct habits of these particular virtues, and will certainly
form habits of self-government, and of denying our inclinations, whenever veracity, justice, or charity requires it.  Nor
is there any foundation for this great nicety, with which
some affect to distinguish in this case, in order to depreciate
all religion proceeding from hope or fear. For veracity, justice, and charity, regard to God's authority, and to our own
chief interest, are not only all three coincident, but each of
them is, in itself, a just and natural motive or principle of
action. And he who begins a good life from any one or
them, and perseveres in it, as he has already in some degree,
so he cannot fail of becoming more and more of that character, which is correspondent to the constitution of natuire
as moral, and to the relation which God stands in to us as.
moral governor of it; nor, consequently, can he fail of obtaining that happiness, which this constitution and relation
necessarily supposes connected with that character.
These several observations, concerning the active principle of virtue and obedience to God's commands, are'applicable to passive submission or resignation to his will; which
is another essential part of a right character, connected with
the former, and very much in our power to form ourselves
to.  It may be imagined, that nothing but afflictions can
give occasion for or require this virtue; that it can have no
respect to, nor be any way necessary to qualify for a state
of perfect happiness; but it is not experience which can
make us think thus: Prosperity itself, whilst any thing supposed desirable is not ours, begets extravagant and fnbounded thoughts.  Imagination is altogether as much a source
of discontent as any thing in our external condition. It is
indeed true, that there can be no scope for patience, when
sorrow shall be no more; but there may be need of a temper of mind, which shall have been formed by patience.
For, though self-love, considered merely as an active principle leading us to pursue our chief interest, cannot but be
uniformly coincident with the principle of obedience to God's
commands, our interest being rightly understood; because
this obedience, and the pursuit of our owni chief interest,
must be, in every case, one and the same thing; yet.it may
be questioned, whether self-love, considered merely as the
desire of our own interest or happiness, can, from its nature,
be thus absolute and uniformly coincident with the will of
God, any more than particular affection can; coincident in




108                 OF A STATE OF             [PART 1.
such sort, as not to be liable to be excited upon occasions,
and in degrees, impossible to be gratified consistently with
the constitution of things, or the divine appointments. So
that habits of resignation may, upon this account, be requisite for all creatures; habits, I say, which signify what is
formed by use. However, in general, it is obvious, that
both self love and particular affections in human creatures,
considered only as passive feelings, distort and rend the
mind, and therefore stand in need of discipline. Now, denial of those particular affections, in a course of active virtue
and obedience to God's will has a tendency to moderate
them, and seems also to have a tendency to habituate the
mind to be easy and satisfied with that degree of happiness
which is alloted to us, i. e. to moderate self love.  But the
proper discipline for resignation is affliction.  For a right
behaviour under that trial, recollecting ourselves so as to
consider it in the view in which religion teaches us to consider it, as from the hand of God; receiving it as what he
appoints, or thinks proper to permit, in his world and under
his government, this will habituate the mind to a dutiful
submission; andi such submission, together with the active
principle of obedience, make up the temper and character
in us which answers to his sovereignty, and which absolutely belongs to the condition of our being, as dependent creatures. Nor can it be said, that this is only breaking the
mind to a submission to mere power, for mere power may
be.accidental, and precarious, and usurped; but it is forming within ourselves the temper of resignation to his rightful authority, who is, by nature, supreme over all.
Upon the whole, such a character, and such qualifications, are necessary for a mature state of life in the present
world, as nature alone does in no wise bestow, but has put
it upon us in great part to acquire, in our progress from one
stage of life to another, from childhood to mature age; put
it upon us to acquire them, by giving us capacities of doing
it and by placing us, in the beginning of life, in a condition
fit for it. And this is a general analogy to our condition in
the present world, as in a state of moral discipline for another. It is in vain, then, to object against the credibility of
the present life being intended for this purpose, that ail the
trouble and the danger unavoidably accompanying such
discipline might have been saved us, by our being made at
once the creatures and the characters which we twere to be.
Fr w'e experience, that wohat we' were to be, was to be the




CHAP. V.]          AORAL DTSCIPLINE.                 109
effect of what wve would do; and that the general conduct of
nature is, not to save us trouble, or danger, but to make us
capable of going through them, and to put it upon us to do
so. Acquirements of our own experience and habits, are
the natural supply to our deficiencies, and security against
our dangers; since it is as plainly natural to set ourselves to
acquire the qualifications as the external things which we
stand in need of. In particular, it is as' plainly a general
law of natuor, that we should, with regard to our temporal
interest, form  and cultivate practical principles within us,
by attention, use, and discipline, as any thing whatever is a
natural law; chiefly in the begining of life, but also through
out the whole course of it.  And the -alternative is left to
our choice, either to improve ourselves and better our condition, or, in default of such improvement, to remain deficient
and wretched. It is therefore perfectly credible, from the
analogy of nature, that the same may be our case, with respect to the happiness of a future state and the qualifications necessary for it.
There is a third thing, which may seem implied in the
present world being a state of probation, that it is a theatre of action for the manifestation of persons' characters,
with respect to a future one; not, to be sure, to an all-knowing Being, but to his creation, or part of it. This may,
perhaps, be only a consequence of our being in a state of
probation in the other senses.  However, it is not impossible that men's showing and making manifest what is in their
heart, what their real character is, may have respect to a
future life, in ways and manners which we are not acqiainted with; particularly it may be a means, for the Author of
nature does not appear to do any thing without means, of
their being disposed of suitably to their characters, and of
its being. known to the creation, by way of example; that
they are thus disposed of. But not to enter upon any coniectural account of this, one may just mention, that the
manifestation of persons' characters contributes very much,
in various ways, to the carrying on a great part of that gene.
ral course of ratture respecting mankind, which comes under our observation at present.. I shall only add, that probation, in both these senses, as well as in that treated of in
the foregoing chapter, is implied in moral government;
since by persons' behaviour under it, their characters cannot
but be manifested, and if they behave well, improved.




110         OF THE OPINION OF NECESSITY.    LP[ART 
CHAPTER VI.
Of the opinion of JNecessity, considered as influencing
Practice.
THROUGHOUT the foregoing Treatise it appears, that the.condition of mankind -considered- as inhabitants of this
world only, and under the government of God which we
experience, is greatly analogous to our condition, as designed for another world, or under that farther government which
religion teaches us. If, therefore, any assert, as a fatalist
must, that the opinion of universal necessity is reconcilable
with the former, there immediately arises a question in the
way- of analogy; whether he must not also own it to be
reconcilable with the latter; i. e. with the system of religion
itself, and the proof of it. The reader, then, will observe,
that the question now before us, is not absolute, whether the
opinion of fate be reconcilable with religion; but hypothetlcal, whether, upon supposition of its being reconcilable with
the constitution of nature, it be not reconcilable with religion also. or, what pretence a fatalist, —-not other persons,
but a fatalist — has to conclude, from his opinion, that there
can be no such thing as religion. And as the puzzle and
obscurity, which must unavoidably arise from arguing upon
so absurd a supposition as that of universal necessity, will,
I fear, easily be seen, it will, I hope, as easily be excused.
But since it has, been all along taken for granted, as a
thing proved, that there is an intelligent Author of nature,
or natural Governor of the world; and since an objection
may be mlade against the proof of this, from the opinion of
universal necessity, as it may be supposed that such necessity will itself account for the origin and preservation of all
things, it is requisite that this objection be distinctly answei~
ed; or that it be shown, that a fatality, supposed consistent
with what we certainly experience, does'not destroy the
proof of an intelligent Author and Governor of nature, be.




CHAP. VI.]    AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE.           111
fore we proceed to consider, whether it destroys the proof of
a moral Governor of it, or of our being in a state of
religion.
Now when it is said by a fatalist, that the whole constitu.
tion of nature, and the actions of men, that every thing and
every mode and circumstance of every thing, is necessary, and
could not possibly have been otherwise, it is to be observed:;
that this necessity does-not exclude deliberation, choice,
preference, and acting from certain principles, and to certain
ends; because all this is matter of undoubted experience,
acknowledged by all, and what every man may, every moment, be conscious of. And from hence it follows, that necessity, alone and of itself, is in no sort an account of the
constitution of nature, and how things came to be and to continue as they are; but only an account of this circumstance
relating to their origin and continuance, that they could not
have been otherwise than they are and have been. The assertion, that every thing is by necessity of nature, is not an
answer to the question, Whether the world came into being
as it is by an intelligent Agent forming it thus, or not; but
to quite another question, Whether it came into being as it
is, in that way and manner which we call necessarily, or in
that way and manner which we call freely. For, suppose
farther, that one, who was a fatalist, and one, who kept to
his natural sense of things, and believed himself a free agent,
were disputing together, and vindicating their respective
opinions, and they should happen to instance in a house,
they would agree that it was built by an architect. Their
difference concerning necessity and freedom, would occasion
no difference of judgment concerning this, but only concerning another matter, whether the architect built it necessarily
or freely. Suppose, then, they should proceed to inquire,
concerning the constitution of nature; in a lax way of speaking, one of them  might say, it was by necessity, and the
other- by freedom; but, if they had any meaning to their
words, as the latter must mean a free agent, so the former
must at length be reduced to mean an agent, whether he
would say one or more, acting by necessity; for abstract notions can do-nothing. Indeed, we ascribe to God a necessary existence, uncaused by any agent. For we find with.
in.ourshlves the idea of infinity, i. e. immensity and eternity,
impossible, even in imagination, to be removed out of being.
We seem to discern intuitively, that there must, and cannot
but be, somewhat, external to ourselves; answering this idea.




112        OF THE OPINION OF NECESSITY1    [PART I
or the archetype of it. And from hence (for this abstract, as
much as any other, implies a concrete) we conclude, that there
is, and cannot but be, an infinite and immense eternal Being
existing prior to all design contributing to his existence, and
exclusive of it. And, from the scantiness of language, a
manner of speaking has been introduced, that necessity is
the foundation, the reason, the account of the existence of
God. But it is not alledged, nor can it be at all intended,
that every thing exists as it does by this kind of necessity
a necessity antecedent in nature to design; it cannot, I say,
be meant, that'every thingexists-as it does, by this kind of
necessity, upon several accounts; and particularly, because
it is admitted, that design in the actions of men, contributes
to many alterations in nature. For, if any deny this, I shall
not pretend to reason with them.
From these things it follows, first, That when a fatalist
asserts that every thing is by necessity, he must mean, byi an
agent acting necessarily; he must, I say, mean this; for I
am very sensible he would not choose to mean it. And,
secondly, That the necessity, by which such an agent is supposed to act, does not exclude intelligence and design. So
that, were the system of fatality admitted, it would just as
much account for the formation of the world, as for the structure of a house, and no more. Necessity as much requires
and supposes a necessary agent, as freedom requires and
supposes a free agent to be the former of the world. And
the appearance of design and of final causes in the constitution of nature, as really prove this acting agent to be an intelligent designer, or to act from choice, upon the scheme of
necessity, supposed possible, as upon that of freedom.
It appearing t-hus, that the notion of necessity does not
destroy the proof, that there is an intelligent Author of nature
and natural Governor of the world, the present questionwhich
the analogy before mentioned  suggests, and which, I think,
it will answer, is this: whether the opinion of necessity,
suppose consistent with possibility, with the constitution of
the world, and the natural government which we experience exercised over it, destroys all reasonable ground of belief, that we are in a state of religion; or whether that opinion be reconcilable with religion, with the system and the
proof of it.
Suppose, then, a fatalist to educate any one, from  his




'CHAP. VI.]    AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE.            11Z
his youth up in his own principles; that the child should rea.
son upon them, and conclude, that since he cannot possibly
bohave otherwise than he does, he is not a subject of blame
or commendation, nor can deserve to be rewarded or punished: imagine him to eradicate the very perceptions of blame
and commendation out of his mind, by means of this system;
to form his temper, and character, and behaviour to it; and
1rom it to judge of the treatment he was to expect, say, from
ccasonable men, upon his coming abroad into the world, as
Ilte fatalist judges from this system, what he is to expect
from the Author of nature, and with regard to a future state:
I cannot forbear stopping here to ask, whether any one of
common sense would think fit, that a child should be put
upon these speculations, and be left to apply them to practice? and a man has little pretence to reason, who is not.sensible that we are all children in speculations of this kind.
However, the child would doubtless be highly. delighted to
find himself freed from the restraints of fear and shame, with
which his play-fellows were fettered and embarrassed; and
highly conceited in his superior knowledge, so far beyond
his years.  But conceit and vanity would be the least bad
part of the influence which these principles must have, when
thus reasoned and acted upon, during the course of his edu.
cation.  He must either be allowed to go on, and be the
plague of all about him, and himself too, e'ven to his own
destruction, or else correction must be continually made use
of, to' supply the want of those natural perceptions of blame
and commendation, which we have supposed to be removed,
and to give him a practical impression of what he had reasoned himself out of the belief of, that he was, in fact, an
accomuntable child, and to be punished.for doing what he was
forbid. It is therefore in reality impossible, but that the cor.
rection wvhich he must meet with, in the course of his education, must convince him, that if the scheme he was instructed in were not false, yet that he reasoned inconclusively upon it, and, somehow or other, misapplied it to practice
and common life; as what the fatalist experiences of the
conduct of Providence at present, ought in all reason, to convince him, that this scheme is misapplied, when applied to
tile subject of religion.   But, supposing the child's temper could remain still formed to the system, and his expectation of the treatment he was to have in the world be regular




114         OF THE OPINION OF NECESS;TY,   [PART. L
ted by it, so as to expect that no reasonable man would blame
or punish him for any thing which he should do, because
he could not help doing it; upon this supposition, it is inanifest he would, upon his coming abroad into the world, be in.
supportable to society, and the treatment which he would
receive from it, would render it so to him; and he could not
fail of doing somewhat very soon, for which he would be delivered over into the hands of civil justice; and thus, in the
end, he would be convinced of the obligations he was under
to his wise instructer. Or. suppose this scheme of fatality,
in any other way, applied to practice, such practical application of it will be found equally absurd, equally fallacious
in a practical sense.  For instance, that if a man be destined
to live such a time, he shall live to it, though he take no
care of his own ptservation; or if he be destined to die be
fore that time, no care can prevent it; therefore, all care
about preserving one's life is to be' neglected: which is the
fallacy instanced in by the ancients.  But now, on the contrary, none of these practical absurdities can be drawn, from
reasoning upon the supposition, that we are free; but all
such reasoning, with regard to the common affairs of life, is
justified by experience.  And, therefore, though it were ad-:iitted that this opinion of necessity were speculatively true,
yet, with regard to practice, it is as if it were false, so far as
our experience reaches; that is; to the whole of our present
life. For, the constitution of the present world, and the coI}.
dition in which, we are actually placed, is as if we were free.
And it may perhaps julstly be concluded, that since the whole
process of action, through every step of it, suspense, deliberation, inclining one way, determinining, and at last doing as
we determine, is as if were free, therefore we are so.  But
the thing here insisted upon is, that under the present natural government of the world, we find we are treated and
dealt with asif we were free, prior to all consideration whether we are or not.  WTere this opinion therefore, of necessity,
admitted to be ever so true, yet such is in fact our condition
and the natural course of- things, that, whenever we apply
it to life and practice, this application of it always misleads
us, and cannot bhut mislead us, in a most dreadful manner,
with regard to our present interest.  And how can people
think themselves so very secure then, that the same appli.
cation of the same opinion may not mislead them also in
some analogous manner, with respect to a future, a more
general, and more important interest? For, religion being




CHAP. VI.]     AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE.               115
a practical subject, and the analogy of nature showing us,
that we have not faculties to apply this opinion, were it a
true one, to practical subjects; -whenever we do apply it to
the subject of religion, and then conclude, that we are free
from its obligations, it is plain this conclusion cannot be depended upon.  There will still remain just reason to think,
whatever appearances are; that we deceive ourselves; in
somewhat of a like manner as when people fancy they can
draw contradictory conclusions. from the idea of infinity.
From these things together, the attentive reader will see,
it follows, that if; upon supposition of freedom, the evidence
of religion be conclusive, it remains so, upon supposition of
necessity; because the notion of necessity is not applicable to practical subjects; i. e. with respect to them, is as if
it were not true. Nor does this contain any reflection upon
reason, but only upon what is unreasonable.  For, to pretend to act upon reason, in opposition to practical principles
which the Author of our nature gave, us to act upon, and to
pretend to apply our reason to subjects with regard to which
our own short views, arid even our experience, will show us
it cannot be depended uponi-and such, at best, the subject
of necessity must be,-this is vanity, conceit, and unreasonableness.
But this is no't all.  For we find within ourselves a will
and are conscious of a character.  Now, if this, in us, be
reconcilable with fate, it is reconcilable with it in the Author
of nature. And, besides, natural government and final
causes imply a character and a will in the Governor and
Designer;? a will concerning the creatures whom he governs.  The Author of nature, then, being certainly of some
character or other, notwithstanding necessity, it is evidcnt
this necessity is as reconcilable with the particular character
of benevolence, iveracity and justice, in him, which attribiltes are the fdundation of religion, as with any other character; since we find this necessity no more hinders men from
being benevolent -than crueli true, than faithless; just. than
unjust, or, if the fatalist pleases, what we call uniust.  For
it is said indeed, that what,'upon supposition of freedom,
would be just punishment, upon supposition of necessity,
becomes manifestly unjust; because it is punishnient inflic* By will and character is meant that, which, in speaking of mllen, we
should expre'ss, not only by these words, but also by the words temper,
taste, dispositions, practical principles; that whole frame of mind, from
whence we act in one manner rather than another.




116        OF THE OPINION OF NECESS1TY',  [PART L
ted for doing that which persons could not avoid doing.  As
if the necessity, which is supposed to destroy the injustice
of murder, for instance,.would not also destroy the injustice
of punishing it. However, as little to the purpose at this
objection is in itself, it is very much to the purpose to observe
from it, how the notions of justice and injustice remain,
even whilst we endeavour to suppose them removed; how
they force themselves upon the mind, even whilst we are
making suppositions destructive of them: for there is not,
perhaps, a man in the world, but would be ready to make
this objection at first thought.
But though it is most evident, that universal necessity, if
it be reconcilable with any thing, is reconcilable with that
character in the Author of nature, which is the foundation
of religion;'yet, does it not plainly destfoy the proof, that
he is of that character, and consequently the proof of religion' By no means. For we find, that happiness and
misery are not our fate, in any such sense as not to be the
consequences of our behaviour, but that they are the consequences of it.-Y  We find God exercises the same kind of
government over us, with that which a father exercises over
his children, and a civil magistrate over his subjects.  Now,
whatever becomes of abstract questions concerning liberty
and necessity, it evidently appears to us, that veracity and
justice must be the'natural rule and measure of exercising
this authority, or government, to a Being, who can have no
competitions, or interfering of interests, with his creatures
and his subjects.
But as the doctrine of liberty, though we experience its
truth, may be perplexed with difficulties which run up into
the most abstruse of all speculations, and as the opinion of
necessity seems to be the very basis upon which infidelity
grounds itself, it may be of some use to offer a: more'particular proof of the obligations of religion, which may distinctly be shown not to be destroyed by this opinion.
The proof, from final causes, of an intelligent Author of
nature, is not affected by the opinion of necessity; suppo.
sing necessity a thing possible in itself, and reconcilable
with the constitution of things.   And it is a matter of fact,
independent on this or any other speculation, that he govems the world by the method of rewards and punish
ments;T and also that he hath given us a moral faculty, by
* Chap. 2.
tChap. X




CHAP. VI.]    AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE.              117
which we distinguish between actions, and approve some as
virtuous and of good-desert, and disapprove others as vicious
and of ill desert.?  Now, this moral discernment implies, in
the notion of it, a rule of action, and a rule of a very peculiar kind; for it carries in it authority and a right of direc
tion; authority in such a sense, as that we cannot depart
from it without being self-condemned.t  And that the dictates of this moral faculty, which are by nature a rule to
us, are moreover the laws of God, lau s in a sense including
sanctions maybe thus proved.  Consciousness of a rule or
glf,;le of action, in creatures who are capable of considering
it as given them by their Maker, not only raises immediately
a sense of duty, but also a sense of security in following it,
and of danger in deviating from it. A direction of the Author of nature, given to creatures capable of looking upon
it as such, is plainly a command from him; and a command
from him necessarily- includes in it, at least, an implicit pro.
mise in case of obedience, or threatening, in case of disobe.
dience.  But then the sense of perception of good and ill
desert,t which is contained in the moral discernment, renders the sanction explicit, and makes it appear, as one may
say, expressed. For, since his method of government is to
reward and punish actions, his having annexed to some
actions an inseperable sense of good desert, and to others of
ill, this surely amounts to declaring upon whom his punishments shall be inflicted, and his rewards be bestowed. For
he must have given us this discernment and sense of things
as a presentiment of what is to be. hereafter; that is by way
of information beforehand, what we are finally to expect in
his world. There is, then, most evident ground to think,
that the government of God, upon the whole, will be -found
to correspond to the nature which he has given us; and
that, in the upshot and issue of things, happiness and misecy shall, in fact and event, be made to follow virtue find vice
respectively; as he has already, in so peculiar a manner,
associated the ideas of them in our minds. And from hence
might easily be deduced the obligations of religious worship,
were it only to be considered as a means of preserving upon
our minds a sense of this moral government of God, and
securing our obedience to it; which yet is an extremely im.
perfect view of that most important duty.
* Dissertation 2.           tSermon 2d at the Rolls.
$ Dissertation 2.




118           OF THE OPINION OF NECESSITY)    [rART W.
Now, I say, no objection from necessity can lie against
this general proof of religion: none against the proposition
reasoned upon, that we have such a moral faculty and discernment; because this is a mere matter of fact, a thing of
experience, that human kind is thuTs  constituted:  none
against the conclusion; because it is immediate, and wholly
from this fact.  For the conclusion, that God will finally reward the righteous and punish the wicked, is rot here drawn,
from its appearing to us fit  that he should, but from its appearing, that he has told us he will.   And this he hath cer.
tainly told us, in the promise and threatening, which, it hath
been observed, the notion of a command implies, and the
sense of good and ill desert, which he has given us, more
distinctly expresses.  And this reasoning from fact is confir.
med, and, in some degree, even verified, by other facts; by
the natural tendencies of virtue and of vice;  and by this,
that God, in the natural course of his providence, punishes
vicious actions, as mischievous to society;. and also vicious
actions, as such, in the strictest sense.    So that the gene.
ral proof of religion is unanswerably real, even upon the
wild supposition which we are arguing upon.
It must likewise be observed farther, that natural religion
hath, besides this, an external evidence, which the doctrine
of necessity, if it could be true, would not affect. For, suppose a person, by the observations and reasoning above, or
by any other, convinced of the truth of religion; that there
is a God, who made the world, who is the moral Governor
and Judge of mankind, and will, upton the whole, deal with
every one according to his works; I say, suppose a person
oonvinced of this by reason, but to know nothing at all of
* However, I am far from intending to deny, that the will of God is determined by what is fit, by the right and reasron of the- case;. though one
chooses to decline matters of such abstract speculation, and to speak with
caution when one does speak of them. But if it be intelligible to say,
that it isJfi and reasonable for every one to consult his owu;. happiness,.
then fitness of action, or tfhe right and reason of the case, is an intelligi.
ble manner of speaking. And. it seems as inconceivable, to suppose God
to approve one course of action, or one cnd, preferable to another, which
yet his acting at all from design implies that he does, without supposing
somewhat prior in that end, to be the ground of the preference; as to sup
pose him to discern an abstract proposition to be true, without supposing
somewhat prior in it to be the ground of the discernment. It doth not,
therefore, appear, that moral right is any more relative to. perception than
abstract truth is; or that it is any more iinproper to speak of the fitness
and rightness of actions and ends, as founded in the nature of things, that
to speak of abstract truth, as thus founded..




CHAP. VI.1     AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE.              jll
rntiquity or the present state of mankind, it would be nat
ural for such an one to be inquisitive, what was the history
of this system of doctrine; at what time, and in what man.
ier, it came first into the world; and whether it were believed by any considerable part of it.  And were he upon inquiry to find, that a particular person, in a late age, first of
all proposed it as a deduction of reason, and that mankind
were before wholly ignorant of it; then though its evidence
from reason would ~iemain, there would be no additional probability of its truth, from the account of its discovery.  But
instead of this being the fact of the case, on the contrary, he
would find what could not but afford him a very strong con-.
firmation of its truth: First, That somewhat of this system,
with more or fewer additions and alterations, hath beenprofessed in all ages and countries of which we have any certain information relating to this matter.  Secondly, That it
is certain historical fact, so far as we can trace things up, that
this whole systern of belief, that there is one God, the Creator and moral Governor of the world, and that manlkind is in
a stat.e of religion, was received in the first ages.  And, thirdly, That as there is no hint or intimation in history, that this
system was first reasoned out; so there is express historical
or traditional evidence, as ancient as history, that it was
taught first by revelation.  Now, these things must be allowed to be of great weight.  The first of them, general
consent) sJnows this system to be conformable to the common
sense of mankind.  The second, namely, that religion was
believed in the first ages of the world, especially as it does
not appear that there were then any superstitious or false additionstoit, cannot but beafarther confirmation of its truth. For
it is a proof of this alternative; either that it came into the
mworld by relation, or that it is natural, obvious, and forces itself upon the mind. The former of these is the conclusion
of learned men.  And whoever will consider, how utapt for
speculation rude and uncultivated minds are, will, perhaps
fi'om hence alone, be strongly inclined to believe it the truth.
And as it is shown in the second part s- of this Treatise, that
there is nothing pf such peculiar presumption against -a reve.
lation in the begining of' the world, as there is supposed to
be against subsequent ones; a sceptic could not, I think,
give any account, which would appear more probable even
to himself, of the early pretences io revelation, than by sup* Chap..




120       OF TIE OPIN.ION ofo iNECssrY,        LPART I
posing some real original one, from whence they were copied. And the third thing above mentioned, that there is ex.
press historical or traditional evidence, as ancient as history,
of the system of religion being taught mankind by revela.
tion; this must be admitted as some degree of real proof,
that it was so taught. For why should not the most ancient
tradition be admitted as some additional proof of a fact,
against whi-h there is no presumption? And this proof is
mentioned.ere, because it has its weight to show, that religion came into the world by tevelation prior to all consideration of the proper authority of any book supposed to contain it; and even prior to all consideration, whether the revelation itself be uncorruptly handed down and related, or
mixed and darkened with fables.. Thus the historical account which we have, of the origin of religion, taking in all
circumstances, is a real confirmation of its truth, no way affected by the opinion of necessity. And the, external evidence, even of natural religion, is by no means inconsiderable.
But it is carefillly to be observed, and ought to be recollected after all proofs of virtue and religion, which are only
general, that as speculative reasons may be neglected, prejudiced, and deceived, so also may our moral understanding
be impaired and perverted, and the dictates of it not impartially attended to. This, indeed, proves nothing against the
reality of our speculative or practical faculties of perception;
against their being intended by nature to inform us in the
theory of' things, and instruct us how we are to behave, ana
what we are to expect, in consequence of our behaviour.Yet our liableness, in the degree we are liable, to prejudice
and perversion, is a most serious admonition to us to be upon
our guard, with respect to what is of such consequence, as
our determinations concerning virtue and religion; and particularly, not to take custom, and fashion, and slight notions
of honor, or imaginations of present ease, use, and conveni.
ence to mankind, for the, only moral rule.'The foregoing observations, drawn from- the niature of the
thing, and the history of religion, amount, when taken together, to a real practical proof of it, not to be confuted;
such a proof as, considering the infinite importance of the
thing, I apprehend, would be admitted fully sufficient, in
reason, to influence the actions of men, who act upon
* Diasrtaton 2




CHAP. VI.]   AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE.              121
thought and reflection; if it were admitted that there is- no
proof of the contrary. But it may be said;' There are
many probabilities, which cannot indeed be confuted, i. e.
shown to be no probabilities, and yet may be overballanced
by greater probabilities on the other side; much more by
demonstration. And there is no occasion to object against
particular arguments alleged for an opinion, when the opinion itself may be clearly shown to be false, without meddling
with such arguments at all, but leaving them just as they
are.   Now, the method of government by rewards and
punishments% and especially rewarding and punishing good
and ill cksert, as such, respectively, must go ulpon supposition, that we are free, and not necessary agents. And it is
incredible, that the Author of natlure, should govern us upon a supposition as true, which he knows to be false; and
therefore absurd to think, he will reward or punish us for our
actions hereafter; especially that he will do it under the
notion, that they are of good or ill desert.' Here; then, the
matter is brought to a point. And the answer to all this is
full, and not be evaded; that the whole constitution and
course of things, the whole analogy of providencesshows,
beyond possibility of doubt, that the conclusion from  this
reasoning is false) wherever the fallacy lies.  The doctrine
of freedom, indeed, clearly shows where; in supposing ourselves necessary, when in truth we are free agents. But,
upon the supposition of necessity, the fallacy lies in taking
for granted that it is incredible necessary agents should be
rewarded and punished.  But that, somehow or other, the
conclusion now mentioned is false, is. most ceitain. For it
is fact, that God does govern even brute creatures by the
method of rewards and punishments, in the natuial course
of things.  And men are rewarded and punished for their
actions, punished for actions mischievous to society as being
so, punished for vicious actions as such, by the natural in.
strumentality of each other, under the present conduct of
Providence. Nay, even the affection of gratitude, and the
passion of resentment, and the rewards and punishments
following from them, which in genleratl are to be considered
as natural, i. e. from the Author of nature; these rewards
and punishments, being naturally annexed to actions considered as implying good intention and good desert, ill intention and iii desert; these natural rewards and punishments,




122         OF THE OPINION OF NECESSITY,    [PART L
[ say, are as much a contradiction to the concltlsion above,
and show its falsehood, as a more exact and complete re.
warding and punishinlg of good and ill desert, as such.  So
that, if it be incredible that necessary agents should be thus
rewarded and puniished, then men are not necessary, bit
fi'ee; since it is matter of fact that they are thus rewarded
and punished. But if, on the contrary, which is the supposition we have been arguing upon, it be insisted, that men
are necessary agents, then there is nothing incredible in-the
farther supposition of necessary agents being thus rewarded and punished; since we ourselves are thus (lealt with.
From the whole, therefore- it must follow, that a necessity supposed possible, and reconcilable with';the constitution
of things, does in no sort prove, that, the. Author of riature
will not, nor destroy the proof that he will, finally and upon
the whole, in his eternal government, render his creatures
happy or miserable, by some means or other, as they behave
well or ill.  Or, to express this conclusion in words conformable to the title of the chaptelr, the analogy of nature
shows us, that the opinion of necessity, considered as )r'ac.
tical, is false.  And if necessity, upon the supposition above
mentioned, doth not destroy the proof of natural religion, it
evidently makes no alteration in the proof of revealed.
From these things; likewise, we may learn in what- sense
to understand that greneral assertion, that the opinion of necessity is essentially destructive of all religion.  First, In a
practical sense; that by this notion atheistical imen pretend
to satisfy and encourage themselves in vice, and justify to
others their disregard to all religion.  A'nd, Secondly, In thoe
strictest sehse i that it is a.contradiction to the whole constitution of nmature, and to what we may every moment expe.
rience in ourselves, and so overturns every thing.  But by
no means is this assertion to be understood, as if necessity,
supposing it could possibly be reconciled with the constitution
of things; and wvith what we experience, were not also reconcilable with religion;. for upon this supposition it demonstra,
bly is so.




CHAP VII.       A SCHEMiE  INCOMPREIHENSIBLE.      123
CHAPTER VII.
Of the Government of God, considered as a Scheme,'or
Constitution, impe:fectly comprehended.
THOUGH it be, as it cannot but be, acknowledged, that
the analogy of nature gives a strong credibility to the general doctrine of religion, and to the several particular things
contained in it, considered as so many matters of fact; and
likewise, that it shows this credibility not to be destroyed by
any notions of necessity; yet still, objections may be insisted upon against the wisdom, equity, and goodness of the
divine government, implied in the notion of religion, and
against the method by which this government is conducted,
to which objections analogy can be no direct answer. For
the credibility, or the certain truth, of a matter of fact, does
not immediately prove any thing concerning the wisdom
or goodness of it; and analogy can do nlo more, immediately or directly, than show such and such things to be true or
credible, considered only as matters of fact. But, still, if,
upon supposition of a moral constitution of nature and a
moral government over it, analogy suggests and makes it
credible, that this government must be a scheme, system, or
constitution of government, as distinguished from a number
of single unconnected acts of distributive justice and goodness; and likewise, that it must be a scheme, so imperfectly
comprehended, and of such a sort in other respects, as to
afford a direct general answer to all objections against the
justice and goodness of it; then analogy is, remotely, of
great service in answering those objections, both by sug.
gesting the answer, and showing it to be a credible one.
Now, this, upon inquiry, will be found to be the case.
For, first Upon supposition that God exercises a moral government over the world, the analogy of his natural goveinment suggests, and makes it credible, that his moral govenm



1-24'TllE GOVERNMENiiT OF COD,       [PRT I.
erient nimust be a scheme quite beyond our comprehension;
and this affords a general $tnswer to all objections against the
justice and goodness of it. And, secondly, A more distinct
observation of some particular things contained in God's
scheme of natural government, the like things being supposed, by analogy, to be contained in his moral government, will
farther show how little weight is to be laid upon these objections.
1. Upon suppositimn that- God exercises a moral governmnent over the world, the analogy of his natural government
suggests and makes it credible, that his moral government
must be a scheme quite beyond our comprehension: and
this affords a general answer to all objections against the justice and goodness of it. It is most obvious, analogy renders
it highly credible, that upen supposition of a moral government, it must be a scheme,-for the world, and the whole
natural government of it, appears to be so —to be a scheme,
system, or constitut.n, whose parts-correspond to each other, and to a wholeg as really as any work of art, or as any
particular model of a civil constitution, and government. In
this great scheme of the natural world, individuals have various peculiar relations to other individuals'of their own species. And whole species are, we find, variously related to
other species, upon this earth. Nor do we know how much
farther these -kind of relations may extend. And, as there.
is not any action, or natural event, which we are acquainted
with, so single and unconnected as not to have a respect tc
some other actions and events, so, possibly, each of them,
when it has not an immediate, may yet have a remote, natural relation to other actions and events, much beyond the
compass of this present world. There seems indeed, noth-,ing from whence we can so much as make a conjecture,
whether all creatures, actions, and events throughout the
whole of nature, have relations to each other. But, as it is
obvious that all events have future unknown consequences,
so, if we trace any, as far as we can go', into what is connected with it, we shall find, that if such event were not connected with somewhat farther, in nature unknown to us,
somewhat both past and present, such event could not possi.
bly have been at all. Nor can we give the whole account
of any one thing whatever; of all its causes, ends, and ne.
cessary adjuncts; those adjuncts, I mean, without which it
could not have been. By this most astonishing connexion,
these reciprocal correspondences and mutual relations, every




CHAP VII.]   A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE.          125
thing which we see in the course of nature, is actually
brought about. And things seemingly the most insignificant
imaginable, are perpetually observed to be necessary condi^ions to other things of the greatest importance; so that any
one thing whatever may, for aught we know to the contrary, be a necessary condition to any other. The natural
world, then, and natural government of it, being such an in.
comprehensible scheme; so incomprehensible, that a man
must really, in the literal sense, know nothing at all, who is
not sensible of his ignorance in it: this immediately suggests,
and strongly shows the credibility, that the moral world and
go:Vernment of it may be so too. Indeed, the natural and
moral constitution and government of the world are so connected, as to make up together but one scheme; and it is
highly probable, that the first is formed and carried on merely in subserviency to the latter, as the vegetable world is; for
the animal, and organized bodies for minds. But the t] ing
intended here is, without inquiring how far the administration of the natural world is subordinate to that of the moral,
only to observe the credibility, that one should be analagous
or similar to the other: that, therefore, every act of divine
justice and goodness may be supposed to look much beyond
itself and its immediate object; may have some reference to
other parts of God's moral administration, and to a general
moral plan; and that every circumstance of this his moral
government may be adjusted beforehand with a view to the
whole of it. Thus, for example: the determined length of
time, and the degrees and ways in which virtue is to remain
in a state of warfare and discipline, and in which wickedness
is permitted to have its progress; the times appointed forthe
execution of justice; the appointed instruments of -t; the
kinds of rewards and punishments, and the manners of their
distribution; all particular instances of divine justice and
goodness, and every circumstance of them, may have such
respects to each other, as to make up altogether a whole,
connected and related in all its parts; a scheme, or system,
which is as properly one as the natural world is, and of the
like, kind. And supposing this to be the ease, it is most evident that we are not competent judges of this scheme, from
the small parts of it which come within our view in the present life; and therefore no objections against any of these
parts can be insisted upon by reasonable men.
This our ignorance, and the consequence here drawn from
it, are universally acknowledged upon other occasions; and,




126           THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD,          [PART I
though scarce denied, yet are universally forgot, when.persons come to argue against religion.   And it is
not perhaps easy, even for the most reasonable men, always to bear in mind the degree of our ignorance, and
make due allowances for it.   Upon these accounts, it
may not be useless to go oni a little farther, in order to eh6/w
more distinctly, how just an answer our ignorance is, to objections against the scheme of Providence. Suppose, then,
a person boldly to assert, that the things complained of, the
origin and continuance of evil, might easily have been prevented by repeated interpositions; ~ interpositions so guarded and circumstanced, as would prelude all mischief arising
from them: or, if this were impracticable, that a sc/heze of
government is itself an imperfection; since more good might
have been p roduced without any scheme, system, or constitution at all, by continued single unrelated acts of distributive justice and goodness, because these would have occasioned no irregularities: and farther than this, it is presumed, the objections will not be carried. Yet the answer is ob
vious; that, were these assertions truej still'the observations
above, concerning our ignorance in the scheme of divine
government, and the consequence drawn from it, would hold
in great measure, enough to vindicate religion against all
objections from the disorders of the present state. Were
these assertions true,'yet the government of the world might
be just and good notwithstanding; for, at the most, they
would infer nothing more than that it might have been better.  But, indeed, they are mere arbitrary assertions; no
man being sufficiently acquainted with the. possibilities of
things, to bring any proof of them to the'lowest degree of
probability.  For, however possible what is asserted may
seem, yet many instances may be alledged, in things much
less out of our reach, of suppositions absdlutely impossible and
reducible to the most palpable self-contradictions, which not
every one by any means could perceive to be such, nor perhaps any one at first sight suspect. From these things it is
easy.to see distinctly, how our ignorance, as it is the coinmon, is really a satisfactory answer to all objections against
the justice and goodness of Providence. If a'man, contemplating any one providential dispensation, which had no relation to any others, should object, that he discerned' in it a
disregard to justice, or a deficiency of goodness, nothing




CHAP. VII.]  A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE.          127
would be less an answer to such objection, than our ignorance in other parts of Providence, or in the possibilities of
things, no way related to what he was contemplating. But
when we know not but the parts objected against may be
relative to other parts unknown to us, and when we are unacquainted with what is; in the nature of the thing, practicable in the case before us, then our ignorance is a satisfactory answer; because some unknown relation, or some unknown impossibility, may render what is objected against
just and good; nay, good in the highest practical degree.
II. And how little weight is to be laid upon such objections will farther appear, by a more distinct observation of
some particular things contained in the natural government
of God, the like to which may be supposed from analogy, to
be contained in his moral government.
First, As, in the scheme of the natural world; no ends appear to be accomplished without means; so we find that
means very undesirable often conduce to bring about. ends
in such a measure desirable, as greatly to over-balance the
disagreeableness of the means. And in cases where such
means are conducive to such ends, it is not reason, but experience, which shows us that they are thus -conducive.
Experience also shows many means to be conducive and
necessary to accomplish ends, which means. before experience, we should have thought would have had even a contrary tendency. Now, from these observations relating to
the natural scheme of the world, the moral' being supposed
analogous to it, arises a great credibility, that the putting
our misery in each other's'power to the degree it is, and
making men liable to vice to the degree we are; and, in
general, that those things which are objected against the
moral scheme of Providence may be, upon the whole, friendly and assistant to virtue, an1 roductive of an over balance
of happiness; i. c. the t~,Ls objected against may be means
by which an over-balance of' good will, in the end, be found
produced. And, fromr the same observations, it appears to be
no presumption against this, that we do not, if indeed we do
rnot, see those means to have any such tendency, or that
they seem to us to have a contrary one. Thus. those things
whichn we call irregularlites, may not be so at all; because
they may be means of accomplishing  wise cnd good ends
mnore considerable. And it may be added, as above, that
they may also be the only means by which these wise and
good ends are capable of being accomplished.




128           THE GOVERNMENT OfP  OfD        tPART. I,
After these observations it may be' proper to add, in order
to obviate an absurd and wicked conclusion from any of
them, that though the constitution of our nature, from whence
we are capable of vice and misery, may, as it undoubtedly
does, contribute to the perfection and happiness of the world;
and though the actual permission of evil may be beneficial
to it, (i. e. it would have been more mischievous, not that a
wicked person had himself abstained from his own wickedness, but that any one had forcibly prevented it, than that it
was permitted;) yet, notwithstanding, it might have been
much better for the world if this very evil had never been
done. Nay, it is most clearly conceivable, that the very
commission of wickedness may be beneficial to the world,;
and yet that it would be infinitely more beneficial for men to
refrain from it. For thus, in the wise and good constitution
of the natural world, there are disorders which bring their
own cures; diseases which are themselves remedies. Many
a man would have died, had it not been for the gout or fever;
yet it would be thought madness to assert, that sickness is a
better or more perfect state than health; though the like,
with regard to the moral world, has been asserted. But,
Secondly, The natural government of the world is carried
or, by general laws. For this there may be wise and good
reasons; the wisest and best, for aught we know to the contiary. And that there are such reasons, is suggested to our
thoughts by the analogy of nature; by our being made to
experience good ends to be accomplished, as indeed all the
good which we enjoy is accomplished, by this means, that
the laws, by which the world is governed, are general. For
we have scarce any kind of enjoyments, but what we are,
in some way or other, instrumental in procuring ourselves,
by acting in a manner which we foresee likely to procure
them: now this foresight could not be at all, were not the
government of the world carrinet   n by general laws.  And
though, for aught we know to the contrary, every single
case may be, at length, found to have been provided for even
by these, yet to prevent all irregularities, or remedy them as
they arise, by the wisest and best general'laws, may be in —
possible in the nature of things, as we see it is absolutely
impossible in civil -government. But then we are ready to
think, that the constitution of nature remaining as it is, and
the course of things' being permitted to go on, in other respects, as it does, there might be interpositions to prevent
irregularities, though they could not have been prevented or




CHAP. VII.]  A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE.           1;29
remedied by any general laws. And there would indeed be
reason to wish-which, by the way, is very different from a
right to claim —that all irregularities were prevented or
remedied by present interpositions, if these interpositions
wvoild have no other effect than this. But it is plain they
would have some visible and immediate bad effects; for instance, they would encourage idleness and negligence, and
they would render doubtful the natural rule of life, which is
ascertained by this very thing, that the course of the world
is carried on by general laws. And farther, it is certain they
would have distant effects, and very great ones too, by
means of the wonderful connexions before mentioned.   So
that we cannot so much as guess, what would be the whole
result of the interpositions desired. It may be said, any bad
result rnight be prevented by farther interpositions, whenever
there was oqcasion for them; but this again is talking quite
at random, and in the dark.   Upon the whole, then, we see
wise reasons why the course of the world should be carried
on by general laws, and good ends- accomplished by this
means, and, for aught we know, there may be the wisest
reasons fox it, and the best ends accomplished by it. Wehave no ground to believe, that all irregularities could be
remedied as they arise, or could have been precluded by general laws. We find that interpositions would produce evil,
and prevent good; and, for aught we know, they would
produce greater evil than they would prevent, and prevent
-greater good than they would produce.' And if this be the
case, then, the not interposing is so far from being a ground
of complaint, that it is an instance of goodness. This is intelligible and sufficient; and going farther seems beyond the
utmost reach of our faculties.
But it may be said, that'after all, these supposed impossibilities and relations are what we are unacquainted
with; and we must judge of religion, as of other things, by
what we do know, and look upon the rest. as nothing: or,
however, that the answers here given to what is objected
against religion, may equally be made use of to invalidate
the prodfs of it, since their stress lies so very much upon our
ignorance.' But,
First, Though total.ignorance in any matter does indeed
equally destroy, or rather preclude, all proof concerning it,
and objections against it, yet partial ignorance does not.




1a (          THE GOVERINMENT OF GOD,          [PART t,
For we -may in any degree be convinced, that a person is of
such a character, and consequently will pursue such ends,
though we are greatly ignorant what is the proper way of
acting, in order the most effectually to obtain those ends;
and in this case, objections against his manner of acting, as
seemingly not conducive to obtain them, might be an- ivered by our ignorance, though the proof that such ends were
intended, might ilot at all be invalidated by it.'hus, the
proof of religion is a proof of the moral character of God,
and, consequently, that-his government is mnoral, and that
every one, upon the whole, shall receive according to his
deserts; a proof that this is the designed end of his gover.
ment. But we are not competent judges what is the propel
way of acting, in order the most effectually to accomplish
this end.   Therefore ourignorance is an answer to objections against the conduct of Providence, in permitting irregpu
larities, as seeming contradictory to this end. Now-, since
it is so obvious that our ignorance nmay be a satisfactory answer to objections against a thing, and yet not affect the
proof of it; till it can be shown, it is frivolous to assert, that
our ignorance invalidates the proof of religion, as it does the
objections against it.
Secondly, Suppose unknown impossibilities, and unkrnown
relations, might justly be urged to invalidate the proof of religion, as well as to answer olbjections against it, and that,
in consequence of this; the proof of it were doubtful; yet
still, let the assertion be despised, or let it be ridiculed, it is
undeniably true, that moral obligations would remain certain, though it were not certain what would, upo01 the
whole, be the consequences of observing or violating them.
For these obligations arise immediately and necessarily fr:m
the judgment of our own mind, unless perverted, which we
cannot violate without being' self-condemned. And they
would be curtain, too, from considerations of interest.  For,
though it were doubtful what will be the future consequences of virtue and vice, yet it is however credible, that ihsy
may have those consequences which religion teaches us
they will; and this credibility is a certain obligation i:l
point of prudence, to abstain from all wickedness, and to lie
in the conscientious practice of all that is good.  But,
Thirdi'ly, The answers above given to the objections a..in'iS
religton, cannot equally be made use of to invalidate the




CHAP. vPI.] A'SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE.          131
proof of it.  For, upon supposition that God exercises a
moral government over the world, analogy does most strongly lead us to conclude, that this moral government must be
a scheme, or constitution, beyond our comprehension. And
a tnousand particular analogies show us, that parts of such
a scheme, from their relation to other parts, may conduce to
accomplish ends) which we should have thought they had
no tendency at all to accomplish; nay, ends, which, before
experience, we should have thought such parts were contradictory to, and had a tendency to prevent. And, therefore,
all these analogies show, that the way of arguing made use
of in objecting against religion, is delusive; because they
show it is not at all incredible, that) could we comprehend
the whole, we should find the permission of the disorders
objected against, to be consistent with justice and goodness,
and even to be instances of them. Now this is not applicable to the proof of religion, as it is to the objections against
it; and therefore cannot invalidate that proof, as it does
these objections.
Lastly, From the observations now made, it is easy to
see, that the answers above given to the objections against
Providence, though, in a general way of speaking, they may
be said to be taken from our ignorance, yet are by no means
taken merely from that, but from Somewhat which analogy
shows us concerning it. For analogy shows us positively,
that our ignorance in the possibilities of things, and the various relations in nature, renders us incompetent judges, and
leads us to false conclusions, in cases similar to this, in which
we pretend to judge and to object. So that the things above
insisted upon, are not mere suppositions of unknown impossibilities and relations; but they are suggested to our
thoughts, and even forced upon the observations of serious
men, and rendered credible, too, by the analogy of nature.
And, therefore, to take these things into the account, is to
judge by experience, and what we do know; and it is not
judginmg so, to take no notice of them.








CONCLUSION.
THE observatior:s of the last chapter lead us to consider
this little scene of human life, in which we are so busily engaged, as having reference, of some sort or other, to a much
larger plan of things. Whether we-are. any way related to
the more distant parts of the boundless universe into which
we are brought, is altogether uncertain.  But it is evident,
that the course of things which comes within our view, is
connected with somewhat past, present, and future beyond
it.  So that we are placed, as one may speak. in the middle of a scheme, not a fixed, but a progressive one, every way
incomprehensible; incomprehensible, in a manner, equally
with respect to what has been, what now is, and what shall
be hereafter. And this scheme cannot but contain in it somewhat as wonderful, and as much beyond our thought and
conceptioil,t as any thing in that of religion. For, will any
man in, his senses say, that it is less difficult to conceive how
the world came to be, and continued as it is, without, than
with, an intelligent Author and Governor of it? admitting
an intelligent Governor of it, that there is some other rule of
government more natural, and of easier conception, than that
which we call moral?  Indeed, without an intelligent Author and Governor of nature, no account at all can be given,
how this universe, or the part of it particularly in which we
are concerned, came to be, and the course of it to be carried
on, as it is; nor any of its general end and design, without
a moral. Governor of it. That there is an intelligent Author
of nature and natural Governor of the world, is a principle
gone upon in the foregoing treatise, as proved, and generally
known and confessed to be proved. And the very notion of
and intelligent Author of nature, proved by particular final
t See Part ii chap, 29




134                  CONCLUSION.            [PART. i.
causes, implies a will and a character.   Now, as our wholenature, the nature which he has given us, leads us to conclude his will and character to be moral, just, and good; so
we can scarce in imagination conceive, what it can be otherwise. However, in consequence of this his will and character, whatever it be, he formed the universe as it is, and car.
ties on the course of it as he does,' rather than in any other
manner; and has assigned to us, and to all living creatures,
a part and a lot in it. Irrational creatures act this their part,
and enjoy and undergo the pleasures and the pains allotted
them, without any reflection. But one would think it imn
possible, that creatures endued with reason could avoid re.
fleeting sometimes upon all this; reflecting, if not from
whence we came, yet, at least, whither we are going, and
what the mysterious scheme in the midst of which we find
ourselves, will at length come out and produce; a scheme
in which it is certain we are highly interested, and in which
we may be interested even beyond conception. For many
~things prove it palpably absurd to conclude, that we shall
cease to be at death. Particular analogies do most sensibly
show us, that there is nothing to be thought strange in our
being to exist in another state of life. And that we arenow
living beings, affords a strong probability that we shall continue so; unless there be some positive ground, and there is
none from reason or analogy, to think death will destroy us.
Were a pers;uasion of this kind ever so well grounded, there
would, surely, be little reason to take pleasure in it. But,
indeed, it can have no other ground than some such imagination, as that of our gr6ss bodies being ourselves; which is
contrary to experience. Experience, too, most clearly shows
us the folly of concluding, from the body and the living agent
affecting each other mutually, that the dissolution of the
former is the destruction of the latter. And there are remarkable instances of their not affecting each other, which lead
us to a contrary conclusion. The supposition, then, which
in all reason we are to go upon, is, that our living nature
will continue after death. - And it is infinitely unreasonable
to form an institution of life, or to act upon any other supposition. Now, all expectation of immortality, whether more
or less certain, opens an unbounded prospect to our hopes
and our fears; since we see the coristitution of nature is such
as to admit of misery, as well as to be productive of happi




PA1RT I.j            CONCLUSION.                 135
ness, and experience ourselves to partake of both in some
degree; and since we cannot but know what higher degrees
of both we are capable of. And there is no presumption
against believing farther, that our future interest depends
upon our present behaviour; for we see our present interest
doth; and that the happiness and misery, which are naturally annexed to our actions, very frequently do not follow till
long after the actions are done to which they are respectively annexed.. So that, were speculation to leave us uncertain, whether it were likely that the Author of nature, in
gi ving. happiness and misery to his creatures, hath regard to
their actions or not; yet, since we find by experience that
he hath such regard, the whole sense of things which he
has given us, plainly leads us, at once, and without any
elaborate inquiries, to think that it may, indeed must, be to
good actions chiefly that he hath annexed happiness, and to
bad actions misery; or that he will, upon the whole, reward
those who do well, and punish those who do evil. To confirm this from the constitution of the world, it has been observed, that some sort of moral government is necessarily
implied in that natural government of God which we experience ourselves under; that good and bad actions, at present, are naturally rewarded and punished, not only as bene.
ficial and mischievous to society, but also as virtuous and
vicious; and that there is, in the very nature of the thing, a
tendency to their being rew arded and punished in a much
higher degree than they are at present. And though this
higher degree of distributive justice, which nature thus
points out and leads towards, is prevented for a time from ta.king place, it is by obstacles which the state of this world
unhappily throws in its way, and which, therefore, are in
their nature temporary. Now, as these things, in the natural conduct of Providence, are observable on the side of virtue, so there is nothing to be set against them on the side of
vice. A moral scheme of government, then, is visibly es.
tablished, and in some degree carried into execution; and
this, together witlh the essential tendencies of virtue and vice
lduly considered, naturally raise in us an apprehension that
it will be carried on farther towards perfection in a future
state, and that every one shall there receive according to his
deserts. And if this be so, then our future and general interest, under the moral government of God, is appointed to
depend upon our behaviour, notwithstanding.the difficulty
which this may oocasion' of securing it, -arnd the danger of lo



136                  CONCLUSION               [PART L
sing it; just in the same manner as our temporal interest;
under his natural government, is appointed to depend upon
our behaviour, notwithstanding the like difficulty and danger.,
For, from our original constitution, and that of the world
which we inhabit, we are naturally trusted with ourselves,
with our own conduct and our own interest. And from the
same constitution of nature, especially joined with that
course of things which is owing to men, we have, temptations to be unfaithful in this trust, to forfeit this interest, to
neglect it, and run ourselves into misery and ruin. From
tlhese temptations arise the difficulties of behaving so as to
secure our temporal interest, and the hazard of behaving so
as to miscarry in it. There is, therefore, nothing incredible
in supposing, there may be the like difficulty and hazard
with regard to that chief and final good which religion lays
before -us. Indeed, the whole account, how it came to-pass
that we were placed in such a condition as this, must be beyond our comprehension. But it is in part accounted for by
what relig;on teaches us, that the character of virtue and
piety must be a necessary qualification for a future state of
security and happiness, under the moral government of God;
in like manner, as some certain qualifications or other are
necessary for every particular condition of life, under his
natural government; and that the present state was intended to be a school of discipline, for improving in ourselves
that character. Now, this intention of nature is rendered
highly credible by observing, that we are plainly made for
improvement of all kinds; that it is a general appointment
of Providence, that we cultivate practical principles, and
form within ourselves habits of action, in order to become fit
for what we were wholly unfit for before; that, iin particular, childhood and youth is naturally appointed to be a state
of discipline for mature age; and that the present world is
peculiarly fitted for a state of moral discipline. And, where.
as objections are urged against the whole notion of moral
government and a probation state, from the opinion of neces.
sity, it has been shown, that God has given us the evidence,
as it were, of experience, that all objections against religion
on this head are vain and delusive.  He has also, in his natural government, suggested an answer to all our short sighted objections against the equity and goodness of his moral
government; and, in general, he has exemplified to us the
latter by the former.
These things, which, it is to be remembered, are matters




PART I.]              CONCLUSION.                   137
of fact, ought, in all common sense, to awaken mankind, to
induce them to consider, in earnest, their condition, and what
they have to do. It is absurd,-absurd to the degree of being ridiclous, if the subject where not of so serious a kind, for
men to think themselves secure in a vicious life, or even in
that immoral thoughtlessness which far the greatest part of
them are fallen into. And the credibility of religion, arising
from experience and facts here considered, is fully sufficient,
in reason, to engage them to live in the general practice of
all virtue and piety; under the serious apprehension, though
it should be mixed with some doubt,@ of a righteous administration established in nature, and a future judgment in conse.
quence of it; especially when we consider, how very questionable it is whether any thing at all can be gained by vice;
how unquestionably little, as well as precarious, the pleasures and profits of it are at the best, and how  soon they
must be parted with at the longest.  For, in the deliberations
of reason, concerning what we are to pursue and what to
avoid, as temptations to any thing from mere passion are
supposed out of the case; so inducements to vice from cool
expectations of pleasure and initerest, so small, and uncertain, and short, are really so insignificant, as, in the view of
reason, to be almost nothing in themselves, and, in comparison with the importance of religion, they quite disappear and
are lost. Mere passion, indeed, may be alleged, though not
as a reason, yet as an excuse for a vicious course of life.
And how sorry an excuse it is will be manifest by observing,
that we are placed in a condition in which we are unavoidably inured to govern our passions, by being necessitated to
govern them; and to lay ourselves under the same klnd of
restraints, and as great ones too, from temporal regards, as
virtue and piety, in the ordinary course of things, require.
The plea of ungovernable passion, then, on the side of vice,
is the poorest of all things; for it is no reason; and but a
poor excuse. But the proper motives to religion, are the
proper proofs of it, from our moral nature, from the presages
of conscience, and our natural apprehension of God, under
the character of a righteous Governor and Judge; a nature,
and conscience, and apprehension given us by him; and
from the confirmation of the dictates of reason, by life and
immortality brought to light by the gospel; and the wraih of
God revealedfrom heaven, against all ungodliness and unrighteoasness of men.
* Part ii. chap. 6.








THEE
ANALOGY
OF
RELIGION
TO THE
CONSTITUTION AND COURSE OF NATURE.
PART  II.
OF REVEAIED RELIGION.
CHAP. I.
Qf the Importance of Christianity.
Somr, persons, upon pretence of the sufficiency of the light
of nature, avowedly reject all revelation, as, in its very notion,
incredible, and what must be fictitious. And, ind-ed, it is
certain Yr- revelation would have been given; had  bhe light'f nature been sufficient in such a sense as to render one not
wanting and useless. But no man, in seriousness and simplicity of mind, can possibly think it so, who considers the
state of religion in the heathen world before revelation, and
its present state in those places which have borrowed no
light from it; particularly, the doubtfulness of some of the
greatest men concerning things of the utmost importance, as
well as the natural inattention and ignorance of mankind in
general. It is impossible to say who would have been.able
to havOe reasoned out that whole system, which we call nutural religion, in its genuine simplicity, clear of superstition;
blut there is certainly no ground to affirm that t.he generality
could: if they could; there is no sort of probability that -they
-would. Admitting there were, they wololdd highly want a




140                OF THE IMPORTANCE              [PART IIL
standing admonition, to remind them of it, and inculcate it
upon them. And, farther still, were they as much disposed
to attend to religion as the better sort of men are, yet, even
upon this supposition, there would be; various occasions for
supernatural instruction and asistance, and the greatest advantages might be afforded by them. So that to say, revelation is a thing superfluous, what there was no need of, and
what can be of no service, is I think, to talk quite wildly and
at random. Nor would it  be more extravagant to affirm,
that mankind is so entirely a t ease in the present state, and
life so completely happy, that it is a contradiction to suppose
our condition capable of being in any respect better.
There are other persons, not to be ranked with these, who
seem  to be getting  into a way of neglecting, and, as It
were, overlooking revelation as of small importance, provided natural religion to be kept to.. With little regard, either
to the evidence of the former, or to the objections against it,
and even upon supposition of its truth,' the only design of it,'
say they,' must be to establish a belief of the moral system
of nature, and to enforce the practice of natural piety and
virtue. The belief and practice of these things were, perhaps,
much promrcted by the first publication of Christianity; but
whether they are believed and practised, upon the evidence
and motives of nature or of revelation, is no great matter.'This way of considering revelation, though it is not the same
with the former, yet borders nearly upon it and very much, at
length, runs up into it, and requires to be particularly considered, with regard to the persons who seem  to be getting
into this way.  The consideration of it will, likewise, farther
show the extravagance of the former opinion, and the truth
of the observations in answer to it, just mentioned.  And an
inquiry into the Importance of christianity, cannot be an
improper introduction to a treatise concerning the credibility
of it.
Now, if God has given a revelation to mankind, and commanded those things which are commanded in Christianity,
it i. evidlent. at first sight, that it cannot in any wise be an
indifferent matter, whether we obey or disobey those comrn
* Invenis multos --— prpterea nolt. fie.r Christianos, quia quasi sufM,
ciunt sibi de bona vita sua. Bene v,,ere opus est, ait. Welid mihi pramcepturus est Christus?  Tt..hene viva r    Jamn bene vivo. Quild mihi
necessarius est Cnristus. Nullum lhomicidium, nullum furturn, nullali
rapinam tacio, res alienas non concupisco, nullo adulterio contaminror. Nain
inveniatur in vita mea aliquid quod reprehendatur, et qui reprehenderit faciat Christianum.-Aug. in Pvalm xxsxi




PART 11.j         OF CHRISTIANITY.                  141
mnands, unless we are certainly assured, that we know all
the reasons for them, and that all those reasons are now
ceased, with regard to mankind in general, or to ourselves
in particular.  And it is absolutely impossible we can be
assured of this; for our ignorance of these reasons proves
nothing in the case, since the whole analogy of nature shows.
what is indeed in' itself evident, that there may be infinite
reasons for things, with which we are not acquainted.
But the importance of Christianity will more distinctly
appear, by considering it more distinctly: First, As a republication, and external institution, of natural' or essential
religion, adapted to the present circumstances of mankind,
and intended to promote natural piety and virtue; and seconzdly, As containing an account of a dispensation of things,
not discoverable by reason, in consequence of which several
distinct precepts are enjoined us. For, though natural religion is the foundation and principal part of Christianity, it is
not in any sense the whole of it.
1. Christianity is a republication of natural religion. It
instructs mankind in the moral systemi of the world; that it
is the work of an infinitely perfect Being, and under his government; that virtue is his law; and that he will finally
judge mankind in righteousness, and render to all according
to theiir works, in a future state.  And, which is very material, it teaches natural religion in its genuine simplicity, free
from those superstitions with which it was totally corrupted,
and under which it was in a manner lost.
Revelation is, farther, an authoritative publication of natural religion, and so affords the evidence of testimony for
the truth of it. Indeed, the miracles and prophecies recorded in Scripture, were intended to prove a particular dispensa.
ton of Providence-the redemption of the world by the Messiah; but this does not hinder but that they may also prove
God'S general providence over the world, as our Moral Governor and Judge.  And they evidently do prove it; bccause this character of the Author of nature is necessarily
connected with and implied in that particular revealed dispensation of things'; it is likewise continually taught expressly. and insisted, upon, by those persons who wrought
the miracles and delivered the prophecies. So that, indeed,
natural religion seems as much proved by the Scripture revelation, as it would have been, had the design of revelation
been nothing else than to prove it.
But it imay possibly be disputed, how far miradles can




142             oF THE IMPORTANCE           LPrRT'tl.
prove natural religion; and notable objections may be urged
against this proof of it, considered as a matter of speculation; but, considered as a practical thing, there can be none.
For, suppose a person to teach natural religion to a nation
who had lived in total ignorance or forgetfulness of it, and
to declare he was commissioned by God so to do; suppose
him, in proof of his commission, to foretell things future,
which no human foresight could have guessed at;'to divide
the sea with a word; feed great multitudes with bread from
heaven; cure all manner of diseases; and raise the dead,
even himself, to life;-would not this give additional credibility to his teaching,. a credibility beyond what that of a
common man would have, and be an authoritative publica,
tion of the law of nature, i e. a new proof of it? It would
be a practical one, of the strongest kind, perhaps, which haman creatures are capable of having given them. The law
of Moses, then, and the gospel of Christy are authoritative
publications of the religion of nature: they afford a proof of
God's general providence, as moral Governor of the world,
as well as of his particular dispensations of Providence towards sinful creatures, revealed in the law of the gospel.
As they are the only evidence of the latter, so they are an
additional evidence of the former.
To show this further, let us suppose a man of the greatest and most improved capacity, wlho had never heard of
revelation, convinced upon the whole,. notwithstanding the
disorders of the world, that -it was under the. direction and
moral government of an infinitely perfect Being, but readly
to question, whether he were not got beyond the reach of his
faculties; suppose him brought, by this suspicion, into great
danger of being carried away by the universal bad example
of almost every one around him, who appeared to have no
sense, no practical sense at least, of these things; and this
perhaps, would be as advantageous a situation, with regard
to religion, as nature alone ever placed any man in. What
a confirmation now must it be to such a, person, all at once
to'find, that this moral system of things was revealed to
mankind, in the namne of that infinite Being whom he had~.
from principles of reason, believed in; and that the publishers of the revelation proved their commission from-him, by
making it appear that he had intrusted them with a power
of suspending and changing the general laws of nature!
Nor must it, by any means, be omitted;;for it is a thing
of the. utmost importance, that life and i knmortality are emn




itAP. 1.]            OF CHRISTiAXITt.                 14l1
inently brought to light by the gospel.  The great doctrines
of a fiuture state, the danger- of a course of wickedness, and
the efficacy of repentance, are not only confirmed in the gospel, but are taught, especially the last is, with a degreq of
light; to which that of nature is but darkness.
Farther: As christianity served these ends and purposes,
when it was first published, by the miraculous publication itself, so it was intended to serve the same purposes, in future
ages, by means of the settlement of a visible church; of a society, distinguished from common ones, and from the rest of
the world, by peculiar religious institutions'; by an instituted
method of instruction, and an instituted form of external religion.  Miraculous powers were given to the first. preachers
of Christianity, in order to their introducing it into the world;
a visible church was established, in order to continue it, and
carry it on successively throughout all ages.  -Had Moses
and the Prophets, Christ and his Apostles, only taught, and
by miracles proved, rellgiot to their contemporaries the benefits
of their instructions would have reached but to a small part
of mankind.  Chrislianity miust have been, in a great degree, sunk and forgot in a very few ages.  To prevent this
appears to have been one reason why a visible church was
instituted; to be, like a City upon a hill, a standing merno
rial to the world of the duty which we owe our Maker; to
call men continlally, toth by example anrd instruction, to at,
tend to it, and, by the form of religion ever before their eyes,
remind them of the reality; to be the repository of the oracles of God; to hold up the light of revelation in aid to that
of nature, and propagate it throughout all generations to
the end of the world-the light of revelation, considered
here in no'other viewv, than as designed to enforce natural red
ligion.  And, in proportion as Christianity is professed and
taught in the world, religion, natural or essential religion, is
thus distinctly and advantageously laid before mankind, and
broughlt againrfand agnrin to their thoughts, as a matter,of
infinite.importance. A visible church has also a farther tenJency to promote natural religion, as being an instituted
method of education, originally intended to be of more pecul.
iar advantage to those who would conform to it.  For one
end of the institution was, that, by admonition and reproof,
as well as instruction; by a general regular discipline, and
public exercises of religion, the body of Christ, as the Scrip.
ture speaks, should be edified; i. e. trained up in piety and
Virtue, fol a higher and a ~Ietter state.  This settlement then,




144             OF THE IMPORTANCE             [PART IIappearing thus beneficial; tending, in the nature of the
thing, to answer, and in some degree actually answering,
those ends; it is to be remembered, that the very notion of
it implies positive institutions; for the visibility of the church
consists in them.  Take away every thing of this kind, and
you lose the very notion itself.  So that, if the things now
mentioned are advantages, the reason and importance of
positive institutions in general is most obvious; since wit.h
out them, these advantages could not be secured to the world
And it is mere idle wantonness, to insist upon knowing the
reasons why such particular ones were fixed upon rather
than others.
The benefit arising from  this supernatural assistance,
which Christianity affords to natural religion, is what some
persons are very slow in apprehending;- and yet i' is a thing
distinct in itself, and a very plain obvious one. For will
any, in good earnest, really say, that the bulk of mankind
in the heathen world were in as advantageous a situation,
with regard to natural religion, as they are now amongst
us? that it was laid before them, and enforced upon them,
in a manner as distinct, and as much tending to influence
their practice?
The objections against all this, fromn the perversion of
Christianity, and from the supposition of its having had but
little good influence, however innocently they may be proposed, yet cannot be insisted upon as conclusive, uporf any
principles but such as lead to downright atheism n; because
the manifestation of the law of nature by reason, which, u-pon all principles of theism, must have been from God, has been
perverted and rendered ineffectual in the same mlanner.  It
may indeed, I think, truly be said that the good effects of
Christianity have not been small; nor its supposed ill effects
at all of it, properly speaking. Perhaps, too, the things
themselves done have been aggravated; and if not, Chris.
tianity hath been often only a pretence  and. the same evils,
in the main, would have been done upon some other pretence.
However, great and shocking as the corruptions and abuses
of it have really been, they cannot be insisted upon as arguments against it, upon principles of theism. For one cannot proceed one step in reasoning upon natural religion, any
more than upon Christianity, without laying it down as a
first principle, that the dispensations of Providence are not
to be judged of by their perversions, but by their genuine
tendencies; not by what they do actually seem to effect, but




CHAP. I.]          OF CHRISTIANITY.                  145
by what they would effect if mankind did th.iir part, that
part which is justly put and left upon them. It is altogeth.
er as much the language of one, as of the other:  LBe thla.
is unjust, let him be unjust still; and he that is holy, let him be
holy still.Y  The light of reason does not, any more than
that of revelation, force men to submit to its authority: both
admonish them of what they ought to do and avoid, together with the consequences of each; and, after this, leave
them at full liberty to act just as they please, till the appointed time of judgment. Every moment's experience shows,;hat this is God's general rule of government.
To return, then: Christianity being a promulgation of the
taw of nature; being, moreover, an authoritative promulgation of it, with new light and other circumstances of pecu.
war advantage, adapted to the wants of mankind; these.hings fully show its importance. And it is to be observed
rarther that as the nature of the case requires, so all Chris.
tians are commanded to contribute, by their profession of
Christianity, to preserve it in the world, and render it such
e. piomulgation and enforcement of religion.  For it is the
very scheme of the gospel, that each Christian should, in
his degree, contribute towards continuing and carrying it on;
all by uniting in the public profession, and external practice
of Christianity; some by instructing, by having the oversight, and taking care of this religious community,'the
Church of God.  Now  this farther shows the importance
of Christianity, and, which i. what I chiefly intend, its importance in a practical sense, or the high obligations we are
under, to take it into our most serious consideration: and the
danger there must necessarily be, not only in treating it
despitefully, which I am not now speaking of, but in disre.
garding and neglecting it.  For this is neglecting to do
what is expressly enjoined us, for continuing those benefits
to the world, and lransmittingt them down to future tinmes,
And all'this holds, even though the only thing to be considered in Christianity were its subserviency to natural religion. But,
II. Christianity is to be considered in a further view, as
containing an account of a dispensation of things, not at all
discoverable by reason, in consequence of which several dis.
tinct precepts are enjoined us. Christianity is not only
an external institution of natural religion, and a new  pro.
* Rev. xxii. 11.
7




146             or THE XMPORTANCE            LP [ART I.
mulgation of God's general providence, as righteous Governor and Judge of the world; but it contains also a revelatier,
of a particular dispensation of Providence, cai'ryihg on by
his Son and Spirit, for the recovery and salvation of mankmd,
who are represented, in Scripture, to be in a state of ruin.
And, in consequtence.of this revelationi being  made, we ere
commanded to be baptized, not only in the name of the Fathqrl
bat also of the Sonj and of the Holy Ghost; and other obliga.
tions of duty, unknown before, to the Son and the Holy
Ghost, are revealed.  Now, the importance of these duties
may be judged of, by observing that they arise, not from
positive command merely, but also from the offices which
appear, from Scripture, to belong to those divine persons in
the gospel dispensation, or from the relations which, we are
there informed, they stand in to us. By reason is revealed
the relation which God the Father stands in to us. Hence
arises the obligation of duty which we are under to him. In
Scripture arexevealed the relations which the Son and Holy
Spirit stand in to us. Hence arise the obligations of duty
which we are under to them. The truth of the case, as-one
may speak, in each of these three respects, being admitted,,
that God is the Governor of the World, upon the evidence of
reason; that Christ is the Mediator between God and man,
and the Holy Ghost orr Guide and Sanctifier, upon the evidence of revelation: the truth of the case, I say, in each of
these respects, being admitted, it is no more a question, why
it should be commanded that we be baptized in the name of
the Son and of the Holy Ghost, than that we be baptized in
the name of the Father. This matter seems to require to
be more fully stated?.
Let it be remembered, then, that religion comes under the
twofold consideration of internal and external; for the latter
is as real a part of religion, of true religion, as the forrner.
Now, when religion is considered under the first notion as
an'inward principle, to be exerted in such and suich inward
acts of the mind and heart, the essence of natural religion
may be said to consist in religious regards to Go. the Fatici
lImighty;' and the essence of revealed religion, as distin
guished from natural, to consist in religious regaids to the
Son, and to the Holy Ghost. And the obligatiodn  we are un
der, of paying these religious regarids to each of these di
* See the Nature, Obligation, and Efficacy, of the Christian Sacra
ments, &c. and CoUiber on Revealed religion, as there quoted.




.HAP. I.]          OF CHRISTIANITY.                 147
Vine persons respectively, arises firom the respective relations.
which they each stand in to us.  How these relations are
made known, whether by reason or revelation, makes no alteration in the case; because the duties arise out of the relation- themselves, not out of the manrfer in' which we are infarmed of them.  The Son and Spirit have each his proper
office in that great dispensation of Providence, the rede:-np
tion of the world; the one our Mediator, the other our Sanctifier. Does not, then, the duty of religious regards to both
these divine persons, as immediately arise, to the view  of
reason, out of the very nature of these offices and relations,
as the inward good will and' kind attention, which.we owe to
our fellow-creatures, arises out of the common relations between us and them?  But it will be asked,'What are the
inward religious regards, appearing thus obviously due to the
Son and Holy Spirit, as arising, not merely from command
in Scripture, but from the very nature of the revealed relations which:they stand in to us' I answer, the religious
regards of reverence, honor, love, trust, gratitude, fear, hope.
In what external manner this inward worship is to be expressed, is a matter of pure revealed command; as perhaps,
the external manner in which God the Father is to be worshipped, may be more so than we are ready to think; but
the worship, the internal worship itself," to the Son and Holy Ghost, is no farther matter of pure revealed command,
than as the relations they stand in to us, are matter of pure
revelation; for the relations being known, the obligations to
such internal, worship are obligations of reason, arising out
of those relations themselves. In short, the history of the
gospel as immnn-ediately shows us the reason of these obligations, as it shows us the meaning of the words, Son and Holy Ghost.
If this account of the Christian religion be just, those persons who can speak lightly of it, as of little consequence, provided natural religion be kept to, plainly forget, that Cllfis.
tianity, even what is'peculiarly so called, as distinguished
from natural religion, has yet somewhat very important, even
of a moral nature. For the office of our Lord being made known.
and the relation he stands in to -is, the obligation of religious
regards to him is plainly moral, as -much as charity to man.
kind is; since: this obligation arises, before external corn.m
nand, immediately out of that his office and relation itself
Those persons appear to forget, that revelation is to be con.
sidered as informing us of somewhat new in the state of man.




148             OF THE IMPORTANCE            LPART IL.
kind, and in the goverment of the world; as acquainting us
with some relations we stand in, which could not otherwise
have been known. And these relations being real, (though
before revelation we could be under no obligations from thern,
yet upon their being revealed,) there is no reason to think, but
that neglect of behaving suitably to them will be attended
with the same kind of consequences under God's government,
as neglecting to behave suitably to. any dther relations made
known to us by reason. And ignorance, whether unavoidable or voluntary, so far as we can possibly see, will, just as
much, and just as little, excuse in one case as in the other:
the  ignorance being supposed equally  unavoidable, or
equally voluntary; in both cases.
If, therefore, Christ be indeed the Mediator between God
and nman i. e. if Christianity be true; if he be indeed our
Lord, our Saviour, and our God, no one can say what may
follow, not only the obstinate, but the, careless, disregard to
him in those high relations. Nay, no one can say what
may follow such disregard, even in the way of natural con.
sequence.   For, as the natural consequences of vice in this
life are doubtless to be considered as judicial punishments
inflicted by God, so likewise, for aught we know, the judicial
punishments of the future life may be, in a like way, or a
like sense, the natural consequence of vice;t of men's violating or disregarding the relations which God.has placed
them in here, and made known to them.
Again, If mankind are corrupted and depraved in their
moral character, and so are unfit for that state which Christ
is gone to prepare for his disciples; and if the assistance of
God's Spirit be necessary to renew their nature, in a degree
requisite to their being qualified for that state; all which is
implied in the express, though figurative, declaration, Ex.
cept a man be born of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God:t supposing this, is it possible any. serious personf can think it a slight matter, whether or no he makes
use of the means, expressly commanded by God, for obtain.
ing this divine assistance? especially since the whole analogy of nature shows, that we are not to expect any benefits,
without mnaking use of the appointed means for obtaining or
enjoying them. Now, reason shows us nothing of the par.
icular immediate means of obtaining either temporal oI
t Chap. 5.     t John iii. 5.




CHAP. I.]           OF CHRISTIANITY.                   149
spiritual benefits. This, therefore, we must learn, either
from experience or revelation. And experience the present
case does not admit of.
The conclusion from all this evidently is, that Christianity
being supposed either true or credlible, it is unspeakable
irreverence, and really the most presumptuous rashness, to
treat it as a light'matter. It can never justly be esteemed
of little consequence, till it be positively supposed false. Nor
do I know a higher and more important obligation which
we are under, than that of examining most seriously into
the evidence of it, supposing its credibility; and of embrac,
ing it, upon supposition of its truth.
The two following deductions may be proper to be added,
mn order to illustrate the foregoing observations, and to prevent their being mistaken.
First, Hence we may clearly see, where lies the distinction between what is positive and what is moral in religion.
Moral precepts are precepts, the reasons of which we see;
positive precepts are precepts, the reasons of which we do
not see.@ Moral duties arise out of the nature of the case
itself, prior to external command.  Positive duties do not
arise out of the nature of the case, but from external command; nor would they be duties at all, were it not for such
command received from him, whose creatures and subjects
we are. But the manner in which the nature of the case,
or the fact of the relation, is made known, this doth not denominate any duty, either positive or moral. That we be
baptized in the name of the Father, is as much a positive
duty as that we be baptized in the name of the Son; because both arise equally from revealed command: though
the relation which we stand in to God the Father, is made
known to us by reason; the relation we stand in to Christ,
by revelation only. On the other hand, the dispensation of
the gospel admitted, gratitude as immediately becomes due
to Christ, from  his being the voluntary minister of this'dispensation, as it is due to God the Father, from his being the
fountain of all good; though the first is made known to us
by revelation only, the second by reason. Hence also we
* This is the distinction between moral and positive precepts, considered respectively as such. But yet, since the latter have somewhat of a moral nature, we may see the reason of them considered in this view. Moral and positive precepts are in some respects alike, in other respects different. So far as they are alike, we discern the reasons of both; so far as
they are dififrent, we discern the reasons of the former, but not of the latter.




150               OP  PtRE  IMPORTANCE         [PART It
may see. and, for distinctness sake, it may be worth men.
tioning, that positive institutions come under a twofold con.
sideration. They are either institutions founded on natural
religion, as, baptism in ihe name of the Father; though this
has also a particular reference to the gospel dispensation,
for it is in the name of God, as the Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ; or they are external institutions founded on revealed
rnigion, as baptism in the name of the Son, and of the Holy
Ghost.
Secondlly, From the distinctibn between what is moral and
what is positive in religion, appears the ground of that peculiar preference, which the Scripture teaches us to be due
to the former.
The reason of positive institutions in general is very obvious, though we should not see the reason why such particular ones are pitched upon, rather than others. Whoever,
therefore, instead of cavilling at words, will attend to the
thing itself, may clearly see, that positive institutions in
general, as distinguished from this or that particular one,
have the nature of moral commands: since the reasons of
them appear. Thus, for instance, the external worship of
God is a moral duty, though no particular mode of it be so.
Care then is to be taken, when a comparison is made be'
tween positive and moral duties, that they be compared no
farther than as they are different; no farther than as the
former are positive, or arise out of mere external command,
the reasons of which we are not acquainted with; *and as
the latter are moral, or arise out of the apparent reason of
the case,without such external command.  Unless this caution be observed, we shall run into endless confusion.
Now, this being premised, suppose two standing precepts
enjoined by the same authority; that, in certain conjunctures
it is impossible to obey both; that the former is moral, i. e. a
precept of which we see the reasons, and that they hold in
the particular case before us; but that the latter is positive,
i, e. a precept of which we do not see the reasons: it is. indisputable that our obligations are to obey the former, because
there is an apparent reason for this preference, and none
against it. Farther, positive institutions; I suppose all those
which Christianity enjoins, are means to a moral end; and
the end must be acknowledged more excellent than the'means. Nor is observance of these institutions any religious
obedience at all, or of any value, otherwise than as it pro.
ceeds from a moral principle.  This seems to be the stridt




CHAP. 1.]          OF CHRISTIAUNTY.                  151
logical way of stating and determining this matter; but
will, perhaps, be found less applicable to practice, than may
be thought at first sight.
And therefore, in a more practical, though more lax way
of consideration, and taking the words, moral law and positive
institutions, in the popular sense; I add, that the whole
moral law is as much matter of revealed command, as positive institutions are; for the scripture enjoins every moral
virtue. In this respect, then, they are both upon a level.
But the moral law is, moreover, written upon. our hearts, interwoven into our very nature.. And this is a plain intimation of the Author of it, which is to be preferred, when they
interfere.
But there is not altogether so much necessity for the determination of this question as some persons seem to think.
Nor are we left to reason alone to determine it.  For, first,
rlThough mankind have in all ages been greatly prone to
place their religion in peculiar positive rites, by way of equirvalen for obedience to moral precepts; yet, without making
any comparison at all between them, and consequently without determining which is to have the preference, the nature
of the thing abundantly shows all notions of that kind to be
utterly subversive of true r.eligion; as they are, moreover
contrary to thP whole general tenor of Scripture, and likewvse to the most express particular declarations of it, that.
nothing can render us accepted of God, without moral virtue.
Secondly, Upon the occasion of mentioning together positive
and moral duties, the Scripture always puts the stress of religion upon the latter, and never upon the former; which,
though no sort of allowance to neglect theformer, when they
io not interfere with the latter, yet is a plain intimation, that
when they do, the latter are to be preferred.  And, farther,
as mankind are for placing the stress of their religion any
where, rather thafi upon virtue, lest both the reason of the
thing, and the general spirit of Christianity, appearing in the
intimation now mentioned, should be ineffectual against tthis
prevalent folly; our Lord himself, from whose command
alone the obligation of positive institutions arises, has taken
occasion to make the comparison between them and moral
precepts, when the Pharisees censured him for eatiing with
publicans'and sinners; and also when they censured his disciples for plucking the ears of corn on the Sabbath day. Upon
this comparison he has determined expressly,.gd in form,
which shal~ have the preference.when they interfere. And




152              OF THE IMPORTANCE            LPART II
by delivering his authoritative determination in a proverbial
manner of expression, he has made it general: I will have
mercy, and not sacrifice.-*  The propriety of the word proverbial is not the thing insisted upon, though, I think, the, manner of speaking is to be called so.  But that the manner o1
speaking very remarkably renders the determination general,
is surely indisputable. For, had it, in the latter case, been
said only, that God preferred mercy to the rigid observance
of the Sabbath, even then, by parity' of reason, most justly
might we have argued, that he preferred rhercy, likewise, to
the observance of other ritual institutions, and, in general,
moral duties to positive ones. And thus the determination
would have been general, though its being so were inferred,
and not expressed. But as the passage really stands in the
gospel, it is much stronger; for the sense, and the very lite.
ral words of our Lord's answer, are as applicable to any
other instance of a comparison, between positive and moral
duties, as to this upon which they were spoken. And if, in
case of competition, mercy is to be preferred to positive institutions, it will scarce be thought, that justice is to give
place to them.  It is remarkable, too, that, as the words are
a quotation from the Old'Testament, they are introduced, on
both of the forementioned occasions, with a declaration, that
the Pharisees did not understand the meaning of them. This,
I say, is very remarkable; for, since it is scarce possible for
the most ignorant person not to understand the literal sense
of the passage in the Prophet,t and since understanding the
literal sense would not have prevented their condemning the
giltless,4 it can hardly be doubted, that the thing which our
Lord really intended in that declaration was, that the Pharisees had not- learnt from it, as they might, wherein the general spirit of religion consists; that it consists in moral piety
and virtue, as distinguished from forms and ritual observances. However, it is certain we may learn this from his divine application of the passage, in the gospel.
But, as it is one of the peculiar weaknesses of human nature,
when, upon a comparison of two things, one is found to be of
greater importance than the other, to consider this other as
of scarce any importance at all; it is highly necessary that
we remind ourselves, howgreat presumption itis tomake light
* Matt. ix. 13, and ii. 7.  t Hod. vi
S See Matt. xii. 7.




CHAP. I.]         OF CHRISTIANITY.               158
of any institutions of divine appointmentS; that our obligations
to obey allGod'scommands whatever, are absolute and indispensable; and that commands merely positive, admitted
to be from him, lay us under a moral obligation to obey them;
an obligation moral in the strictest and most proper sense.
To these things I cannot forbear adding, that the account
now given of Christianity most strongly shows and enforces
upon us the obligation of searching the Scriptures, in order
to see what the scheme of revelation really is instead of determining beforehand, from reason, what the scheme of it
must be.?  Indeed, if in revelation there be found any passages, the seeming meaning of which is contrary to natural
religion, we may most certainly conclude such seeming
meaning not to be the real one. But it is not any degree of
presumption against an interpretation of Scriptures, that such
interpretation contains a doctrine, which the light of nature
cannot discover, or a precept, which the law of nature does
cot nblige to.
* See Chap. 3.
7*




1 of       OF T]M SUPPOSED PRESUMPT.ION    [PART  1.
CHAPTER I.l
Of the Supposed Presumption against a Revelation, consid
ered as JMiraculous,
IHAVING shown the importance of the Christian fevel,tion, and the obligations which we are under seriously to alttend to it, upon supposition of its truth or its credibility; the
next thing in order is, to consider the supposed presumrtiions
against revelation in general, which shall be the subject of
this chapter; and the- object.ons against the Christian. in
particular, which shall be the subject of some followiicg
ones.-  For it seems the most natural'method. to rermove
these prejudices against Christianity, before we proceed to
the consider;tion of the positive evidence for it, and the ob}jctio A  against that evidence.t
It is, I think, commonly supposed, that there is some peculiar presumption, from the analogy'of nature, against the
Christian scheme of things, at least against miracles; so as
that stronger evidence ii necessary to prove the truth and
reality of them, than world be sufficient to convince us of
other events or matters of fact.  Indeed, the consideration
of this supposed presumption cannot but be thought  ery in.
significant by many persons; yet, as it belongs to the sub
ject of this treatise; so it may tend to open the mind, ancdremove some prejudices; however needless the consideration
-of it be, upon its own account.
4. I find no appearance of a presumption, from the analogy of nature, against the general scheme of Christianity,
that God created and invisibly governs the world by Jesus
Christ, and by him also will hereafter judge it in righteousness, i. e. render to every one according to his works; and
that good men are under the secret influence of his Spirit.
l'* c~.. %3 4, X 6         t Cap. 7.




tRAfP. 1t.]       AGAINST MRMACtES.                 155
Whether these things are, or are not, to be called miraculous,
is, perhaps, only a question about words; or, however, is of
no moment in the case. If the analogy of nature raises any
presumption against this general scheme of Christianity, it
must be, either because it is not discoverable by reason
or experience, or else because it is unlike that course of nature, which is.  But analogy raises no presumption, against
Vthe truth of this scheme, upon either of these accounts.
First, There is no presumption, from analogyr, against the
truth of it, upon account of its not being discovoerabl6 by
reason or experience.  For, suppose one who never heard
of revelation, oof the most improved understanding, and acquainted with our whole system of natural philosophy and
natural religimon; such a one could not but be sensible, that
it was but a very small part of the natural and moral system
of the universe: which he was acquainted with.  He could
not but be sensible, that there muast be innumerable things,
in the dispensations of Providence past, in the invisible government over the world at present carrying on, and in what
is to come, of which he was wholly ignorant,  and which
could not be discovered without revelation.  Whether the
scheme of nature be, in the stridtest sense, infinite or not, it
is evidently vast, even beyond all possible imagination.
And, doubtless, that part of it which is opened to our view,
is but as a point, in comparison of the whole plan of Provi.
dence, reaching throughout eternity, past and futuTre; in
comparison of what is even now going on in the remote parts
of the boundless universe; nay, in comparison of the whole
scheme of this world.  And, therefore, that things he beyond
the natural reach of our faculties, is no sort of presumption
against the truth and reality of them; because it is certain,
there are innumerable things in the constitution and governrnent of the universe, which are thus beyond the n atural
reach of our faculties.  Secondly, Analogy raises no preo
sumption against any of the things contained in this general
doctrine of Scripture now mentioned, upon account of their
being unlike the known course of nature.  For there is ho
presumption at all, from analogy, that the whole course of
things, or divine government, naturally unknown to us, and
every thing in it, is like to' any thing in that which is known;
and therefore no pecuhar presumption against any thing in
the former, upon account of its being unlike to any thing in




I it,6     OF TH-E. SUPPOSED PRESUMPTION   rPART IL
the-latter.  And in the constitution and natural govemment
of the world, as well as in the moral government of it, we
see things; in a great degree, unlike one another: and there.
fore ought not to wonder at such unlikeness between things
visible and invisible.  However, the scheme of Christianity
is by no means entirely unlike the scheme of n.ature; as will
appear-ii. the. fhfollow.i g.part of this treatise..-.The:. notion of-'a, miracle, considered as a proof of a di.
vine -mission,  has been stated with. great  exactness by diviresJ.- and is, I think, sufficiently understood by every one.
There- are also invisible nmiracles;.the incarnation of Christ,
for instane.ce w.,which.: -bein..  se cret, cannot be alledged as a.
proof of s.h: amnisi0n., hbut require themselves to be pro
ved by visi.ble miracles.. Revelation, itself, too, is miraculous
and mir-a.les.a..are the proof of, it; and the supposed presumption against:lhese shall presently be,considered.  All which
I have. been. observing here is, that, whether we choose. to
call: eve.ry' thing in the dispensations of Providence, not discoverable without revelation, nor like the known. course of
things, mira culous; and whether the general Ch-istian. dispensation-ndw mentioned, is to be called so, or not. the fore.
going observations seem certainly to show  that there is no
presumption against it, from the analogy of nature.
LI. There is no presumption, from analogy, against some
operations, which,we should now call miraculous; particularly, none against a revelation, at the beginning  of thle
world; nothing of such presumptions against it, as is supposed to be implied or'expressed in the word miraculous.
For a miracle, in its very notion, is relative to a course ol
nature; and implies somewhat different from it, considered
as being so.  Now, either there was no course of nature at
the time which we are speaking of; or if there were, ye are
not acquainted what the course of nature is upon the first
peopling of worlds.  And therefore.the question, whether
mankind had a revelation made to them at that time is to be
considered, not as a question concerning a miracle, but as a
cormmion question of fact. And we have the like reason, be
it more or less, to admit the report of tradition concerning
this question and concerning common matters of fact of the
same antiquity; for instance, what part of the earth waE
first peopled.
Or thus: When mankind was first placed in this state.
there was a power exerted, totally different from the present
cl-,rse of ntrt;.  Now, whether this power, thus wholly




CHAP. II;!         AGAINST MIRACLES.                 157
different from the present course bf nature;:for we cannot
properly apply to it the word mniraculous; whether this power
stopped irnmediately after it had makde man, or went on, andi
exerted itself farther in giving him a revelation, is a question
of the same kind, as whether an ordinary power exerted itself
in such a particular degree and manner, or not.
Or suppose the power exerted in the formation of the world
be considered as miraculous, or rather, be called by the name,
the case will not be different; since it musthbe acknowledged,
that such a power was exerted.  For supposing it acknowledged that our Saviour spent some years in a course of
working miracles; there is no more presumption, worth mentioning, against his having exerted this miraculous power,
in a certain degree greater, than in a certain degree less; in
one or two more instances, than in one or two fewer; in this,
than in another manner.
It is evident, then, that there can beno peculiarpresumption,
from the analogy of nature, against supposing a revelation,
when man was first'placed upon the earth.'
Add, that there does not appear. the least intimation in
history or tradition, that religion was first reasoned out; but
the whole of history and tradition makes for the other' side'
that it came -into the world by revelation.  Indeed, the state
of religion in the first ages, of which. we have any account
seems to suppose and imply, that this was the original of
it amongst mankind.  And these reflections together, with-out taking in the peculiar authority of Scripture, amount to
real and very material degree of evidence, that there'was a
revelation at the beginning of the world.  Now this, as it is
a confirmation of natural religion, and therefore mentioned in
the former part of this treatise;  so, likewise, it has a tendency to remove any prejudices against a -subsequent revelation.
III. But still it may be objected, that there is some pecu.
liar presumption from analogy, against miracles; particularly against revelation; after the settlement and during the
continuance of a course of nature.
Now, with regard to this supposed presumption, it is to
be observed in general, that before we can have ground foi
raising what can, with any propriety, be called an argument
from analogy, for or against revelation considered as some.
what miraculous, we must be acquainted with a similar or




158         OF THE SUPPOSED PRESUMP1ION    LPART II.
parallel case. But the history of some other world, seemingly
in like circumstances with our own, is no more than a parallel
case; and therefore nothing short of this can be so. Yet,
could we come at a presumptive proof, for or against a reve.
lation, from being informed whether such world had one, or
not; such a proof, being drawn from one single instance
only, must be infinitely precarious.  More particularly: First
of all, There is a very strong presumption against common
speculative-truths, and against the most ordinary facts, before
the proof of them; which yet is overcome by almost any
proof.  There is a presumption of millions to one, against the
story of Ccesar, or of any other man. For suppose a number:of common facts so and so circumstanced, of which one had
no kind of proof, should happen to come into one's thoughts;
every one would, without any possible doubt, conclude them
to be false.' And the like may be said of a single common
fact.  And from hence it appears, that the. question of im.
portance, as to:he matter before us, is, concerning the degree
of the peculiar presumption supposed against miracles; not
whether there be any peculiar presumption at all against
them.  For, if there be the presumption of millions to one.
against the inost common facts, what can a small presump.
tion, additional'to this, atmount to, though it be peculiar? It
cannot be estimated', and is as nothing. The only material
question is, whether there be any such presumption against
miracles, as to render them in any sort incredible 2 Secondly,
If we leave out the consideration of religion, we are in such
total darkness, upon what causes, occasions, reasons, or circumrstances, the present course of nature (lepends, that there
does not appear any improbability for or against supposing,
that five or six thousand years may have given scope for
causes, occasions, reasons, cr circumstances, from  whence
miraculous interpositions may have arisen.  And from this,
joined with- the foregoing observation, it will follow, that there
must be a presumption, beyond all comparison; greater, agains.
the.particudlai coixmnon facts just now instanced in, than
against miracles in general; before any evidence of either.
But thirdly, Take in the'consideration of religion, or the
moral system  of tihe world, and then we see distinct particulair reasons for miracles; to afford mankind instruction additi)onal to"that of niature, and to attest the trlt}! of'it. And
ithis grives a real credibility to the supposition, that it might be
part of' the original plan of things, that there should be mitac'ldouo  i ntertp'oitisions.'1Theni i s. liy,  Mirale s nrust not [Ye




CRAP. Ii.]       AGAINST MIRACLES.              159
compared to common natural events; or to events which,
though uncommon, are similar to what we daily experience;
but to the extraordinary phenomena of nature. And then
the comparison will be, between the presumption against
miracles, and the presumption against such uncommon appearances, suppose, as comets, and against there being any
such powers in nature as magnetism and electricity, so contrary to the properties of other bodies not endued with these
powers. And before any one can determine, whether there
be any peculiar presumption against miracles, more than
against other extraordinary things, he must consider, what,
upon first hearing, would be the presumption against the last
mentioned appearances and powers, to a person acquainted
only with the daily, monthly, and annual course of nature
respecting this earth, and with those common powers of
matter which we every day see.
Upon all this I conclude, That there certainly is no such
presumption against miracles, as to render them in any wise
incredible; that, on the contrary, our being able to discern
reasons for them, gives a positive credibility to the history of
them, in cases where those reasons hold; and that it is by
no means certain; that there is any peculiar presumption at
all, from analogy, even in the lowest degree, against miracles,
as distinguished from other extraordinary phenomena; though
it is not worth while to perplex the reader with inquiries into
the abstract nature of evidence, in order to determine a ques.
tion, which, without such inquinries, we see is'. of no imprtance.




i G';      THE CREDIBILITY OF REVIELATION:rPART'XI.
CHAPTER III.
Of our Incapacity of Judging, that twere to be expected in
a Revelation; and the Credibilityfromn.Analogy, that it
must contain Things appearing liable to Objectzons.
BESIDES the objections against the evidence for Christianity,
many are alleged against the scheme of it; against the whole
manner in which it is put and left with the world; as well as
against several particular relations in Scripture: objections
drawn from the deficiencies of revelation: from things in it ap
pearing to men foolishness8;~ from its containing matters of
offence, which have led, and it must have been foreseen,
would lead, into strange enthusiasm and superstition, and be
made to serve the purposes of tyranny and wickedness; from
its not being universal; and, which is a thing of the same
kind, from' its evidence not beingo so convincing and satisfactory as it might have been; for this last is sometimdes turned
into a positive argument against its truth.t  It would be tedious, indeed impossible, to enumerate the several particulars
comprehended, under the objections here referred to, they
being so various, according to the different fancies of men.
There are persons, who think it a strong objection against
the authority of Scripture, that it is not composed by rules of
art, agreed upon by critics, for polite and correct writing.
And the scorn is inexpressible, with which some of the prophetic parts of Scripture are treated; partly through the
rashness of interpreters, but very much also on account of the
hieroglyphical and figurative language in which they are
left us. Some of the principal things of this sort shall be
particularly considered in the following chapters.  But my
design at present is to observe, in general, with respect to this
whole way of arguing, that, upon supposition of a revelation,
1 Cor. i 8           t See Chap. 6.




CHAP. lIi.]      LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS                161
it is highly credible beforehand, we should be incompetent
jidges of it, to a great degree; and that it would contain
many things appearing to us liable to great objections, in case
we judge of it otherwise than by the analogy of nature. And,
therefore, though objections against the evidence of.Christinanity are more seriously to be considered, yet objections
against Christianity itself are, in a great measure, frivolous;
almost all objections against it, excepting those which are alleged against the particular proofs of its coming from- God.
I express myself with caution, lest I should be mistaken te
vilify reason, which is indeed the only faculty we have
wherewith to judge concerning any thing, even revelation
itself; or be misunderstood to assert, that a supposed revelation cannot be proved false from internal characters,  For,
it may contain clear immoralities or contradictions; and either
of these would prove it false. Nor will I take upon me to
affirm, that nothing else can possibly render any supposed
revelation incredible. Yet still the observation above is, I
think, true beyond doubt, that objections'against Christianity,
as distinguished from  objections against its evidence, are
frivolous. To make out this, is the general design'of the
present chapter. And, with regard to the whole of it, I cannot but particularly wish, that the proofs might be attended
to, rather than the assertions cavilled at, upon account of any,
unacceptable consequences, whether real or supposed, which
may be drawn from them.  For after all, that which -is true,
must be admitted;: though it should show us the shortness of
our faculties, and that we are in: nowise judges of many
thiings of which we are apt to think ourselves very competent ones.  Nor will this be any objection with reasonable
men; at least, upon second thought, it will not;be any-objection with such, against the justness of the following observato n's.
As God governs the Iworld, and instructs his creatures, according to certain laws or rules, in the known course of na.
ture, known'by rieason together with experience; so the
Scripture informs us of a scheme of- divine Providence, additional to this.  It relates, that God has,by: revelation, instructed men in things concer'ning his governtment, which
they could not otherwise have known, and' reminded them of
things which they might- otherwise know; and attested the
truth of the whole by miracles.'Now; if the natural and the
revealed dispensation of things are both from God, if. they
coincide with earch other, and together make up. one scheme




162       THE CREDIBILITY OF REVELATION   LPART::i
of Providence, our being incompetent judges of one, must
render it credible that we may be incompetent judges also of
the other. Since, upon experience, the acknowledged constitrition and course of nature is found to be greatly different
from what, before experience, would have been expected;
and such as, men fancy, there lie great objections against:
This renders it beforehand highly credible7 that they may
find the revealed dispensation likewise, if they judge of it as
they do of the constitution of nature, very different from expectations formed beforehand; and liable, in appearance, to
great objections: objections against the scheme itself, and
against the degrees and manners of the miraculous interpositiols, by which it was attested and carried on. Thus, suppose a.prince to govern his dominions in the wisest manrer
possible, by common known-laws; and that upon some e.xigencies he should suspend these laws, and govern, in several
instances, in a different manner:. if one of his subjects were
not a competent judge beforehand, by what common rules
the government should or would be carried on, it could not be
expected that the same person would be a competent judge,
in what exigencies, or in what manner, or to what degree,
those laws commonly observed would be suspended or deviated from. If he were not a judge of the wisdom of the
ordinary administration, there is no reason to think be would
be a judge of the wisdom of the extraordinary. If he thought
he had objections against the former, doubtless, it is highly
supposable, he might think also, that he had objections
against the latter. And thus, as we fall into infinite follies
and mistakes, whenever we pretend, otherwise than from experience and analogy,, to judge of the constitution and course
of nature, it is evidently supposable beforehand, that we should
fall into as great, in pretending to judge, in like manner, con.
cerning revelation. Nor is there any more ground to expect
that this latter should appear to us clear of objections, than
that the former should.
These observations, relating to the whole of Christianity,
are applicable to inspiration in particular-. As we are in no
sort judges beforehand, by what laws or rules, in what decree,
or by what means, it were to have been expected that God
would naturally instruct us; so, -upon supposition of his
affording us light and instruction by revelation. additional to
what he has afforded us by reason and experience, we are in
no sort judges, by what methods, and in what proportion, it
were to be expected that this supernatural light- and instruc



OHAP. III.;    LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS               163
tion would be afforded us. We know not beforehand, what
degree or, kind of natural information it were to be expected
God would afford men, each by his own reason and experience; nor how far he would enable, and effectually dispose
them to communicate it, whatever it should be, to each other;
nor whether the evidence of it would be certain, highly probable, or doubtful; nor whether it would be given with equal
clearness and conviction to all. Nor' could we guess, upon
any good _ground I mean, whether natural knowledge, or
even the faculty itself by which we are capable of attaining
it, reason, would be given us at once, or gradually. In like
manner, we are wholly ignorant what degree of new knowledge it were to be expected God would give mankind by
revelation, upon supposition of his affording pone; or how far,
or in what ways he would interpose miraculously, to qualify
them, to whom he should originally make the revelation, for
communicating the knowledge given by it; and to secure
their doing it to the age in which they should live, and to
secure its being transmitted to posterity. We are equally
ignorant, whether the evidence of it would be certain, or
highly probable, or doubtful;t or whether all who should
have any degree of instruction from it, and any degree of evidence of its truth, would have the same; or whether the
scheme would be revealed at once, or unfolded gradually.
Nay, we are not in any sort able to judge, whether it wer'e to
have been expected, that the revelation should have been
committed to writing; or left to be handed down, and consequently corrupted, by verbal tradition, and at length sunk
runder it, if mankind so pleasedi and during such tir.e as they
are permitted, in the degree they evidently are, to act as they
will
But'it may be said,'that a revelation in some of the
above-mentioned circumstances; one, for instance, which was
not committed to writirg, and thus secured against danger.f
corruption, would not have answered its purpose.' I ask,
what purpose? It would not have answered all the purposes
which it has now answered, and in the same degree; but it
would have answered others, or the same in different degrees.
And which of these were the purposes of God, and best fell
in with his general government; we could not at all have de.
termined beforehand.
Now since it has been shown, that we have no principles
* See. Chap. 6.




164        THE CREDElU1t    - (tY o t' kVAttAtIbN   [PAhr-  it
of reason upon which to judge beforehand, how it were to be
expected revelation should have been left, or what was most
suitable to the divine plan of government, in any of the forementionled-respects  it must be quite' frivolous to object after.
wards' as to any of them, against its being left in one way,
rather than another; for this would be'to object against
things, upon account of, their being different from expectations which have been shown to be without reason.  Anr
thus we see, that the only question concerning the truth of
Christianity is, whether it be a real revelation; not whether
it be attended with every circumstance" which we should
have looked for: anid concerning the authority of Scripture1
whether it be what it claims to be; not whether it be a book
of such sort, and so promulged, as weak men are apt to
fancy a book containing a divine revelation should. And
therefore neither obscurity, nor seeming inaccuracy of style,
nor various readings, nor early disputes about the authors of
particular parts, nor any other things of the like kind, though
they had been much more considerable in degree than they
are, could overthrow the authority of the Scripture; unless
the Prophets, Apostles, or our Lord, had promised, that the
book, containing the divine revelation, should be secure from
those things.  Nor indeed can any objections overthrow such
a kind of revelation as the Christian claims to be, since there
are no objections against the morality of it, but such as can
show, that there is no proof of miracles wrought originally in
attestation of it; no appearance of any thing miraculous in
its obtaining in the world;. nor any of prophecy, that is,
of events foretold, which human sagacity could not foresee,
If it can be shown, that the proof alleged for all these is absolutely none at all, then is revelation overturned. But were'it allowed, that the proof of any one, or all of them, is lower,than is allowed; yet whilst any proof of them remains, reve-.
lation will stand upon much the same foot it does at present,
as to all the purposes of life and practice, and ought to have
the like influence upon our behaviotur.
From  the foregoing' observations, too, it will follow, and
~those who will thoroughly examine into revelation will find
it worth remarking, that tLere are several ways of arguing,
which, thoug'h just with regard to other writings, are not applicable to-Scripture; at least not to the prophetic parts of it.
We cannot argue, for instance, that this cannot be the sense




[tal. IlJ:]      LIABLE TO oBDIEb-Nsf.               165
Or intent of such a passage of'Scripture, for if it had, it would
have-beer, expressed'more plainly, or have been represented
under a more apt figure or hieroglyphic; yet we may justly
argue thus, with respect to common books.  And the reason
of this difference is very evident; that in Scripture we are not
comnpetent judges, as we are in common books, how plainly
it were to have been expected, what is the trie'sense should
have been expressed, or under how apt an image figured,
The only question is, what appearance there is that this is
the sense? and scarce at all, how much more determinately
or accurately it might.have been expressed or figured?'But is it not self-evident, that internal improbabilities of
all kinds, weaken external probable proof?' Doubtless.  But
to'what practical purpose can this be alleged here, when it
has been proved before, that real internal improbabilities,
which rise even to moral certainty, are overcome by the most
ordinary testimony? and when it now has been made appear,
that we scarce know what are improbabilities, as to the'matter we are here considering? as it will farther appear from
what follows.
For though, from the observations above'made, it is mani
fest, that we are-not in any sort competent judges -ivhat supernatural instruction were to. have been expected; and
though it is self-evident, that the objections of an incompetent
judgment must be frivolous;'yet it may be proper to go one,step farther, and observe, that if men will be regardless of
these things, and pretend to judge of the Scripture by preconceived expectations, the analogy of nature  showvs bef6rehand, not only that it is highly credible they m'ay, but also'
probable that they will, imagine they have strong objections:
against it, however really. unexceptionable: for so, prior to
experience, they would think they had, against the circumstances, and degrees, and the whole manner of that instruction, which is afforded by the ordinary course'of nature.
Were the instruction which God affords to brute creatures by.
instincts and mere propensions, and to mankind by these to-.
gether with reason, matter of probable proof, and not of certain observation, it would be rejected as incredible; in many
instances of it, only upon account of the meanis: by which this
instrluction is given, the seemin- disproportions, the limita.
tions, necessary conditicns, and circumstances of it.  For. in.;
stance  Would it not have been thought highly. i.mprobable,




166       THE CREDIBILIT'  OF REVELATION   [PART h.
that men should have been so much n.ore capable of disco.
vering, even to certainty, the general laws of matter, and the
magnitudes, paths, and revolutions of the heavenly bodies;
than the occasions and cures of distempers, and many other
things, in which human life seems so much more nearly concerned, than in astronomy? - How capricious and irregular a
way of information, would. it be said, is that of invention, by
means of which natutre instructs us in matters of science, and
in many things upon which the affairs of the world greatly
depend; that a man should, by this faculty be made acquainted with a thing in an instant, when, perhaps, he is
thinking of somewhat else, which he has in vain been searching after, it may be, for years. So likewise the imperfections
attending the only method by which nature enables and directs us to commuMicate our thoughts -to each other, are innumerable.  Language is, in its very nature, inadequate,
ambiguous, liable to infinite abuse, even from  negligence;
and so liable to it from design, that every man can deceive
and betray by it.  And, to mention but one instance more,
that brutes, without reason, should act, in many respects,
with a sagacity arnd foresight vastly greater than what men
have in those respects, would be thought impossible. Yet it
is certain they do act with such superior foresight; whether
it be their own, indeed, is another question.  From  these
things it is highly credible beforehand, that upon supposition
God should afford men some additional instruction by revelation, it,would be with circumstances, in manners, degrees,
and respects, which we should be apt to fancy we had great
objections against the credibility of. Nor aye the objections
against the Scripture, nor against Christianity in general, at
all more or greater than the analogy of nature would beforehand,-not perhaps give ground to expect; for this analogy
may not be sufficient, in some cases, to ground an expectation upon; —but no more nor greater, than analogy would
show it, beforehand, to be supposable and credible, that there
might seem to lie against revelation.
By applying these general observations to a particular objection, it will be more distinctly seen, how they are applicable to others of the like kind; and indeed to almost all objections against Christianity, as distinguished from objections
against its evidence. It appears from Scripture, that as it was
not unusual, in the apostolic age, for persons, upon their corn
version' to Christianity, to be endued with miraculous gifts 
so, some of those persons exercised these gifts in a strangely




SNAP. 11I.j    LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS.                 1&7
irregular and disorderly manner: and this is made an objection against their being really miraculous. Now, the foregoing observations quite remove this objection, how considerable soever it may appear at firat sight. For, consider a person endued with any of these gifts, for instance, that of
tongues; it is to be supposed, that he had. the same power
over this miraculous git't, as he would have had over it, had
it been the effect of habit, of study, and use, as it ordinarily
is; or the same power over it, as he had over any other natural endowment. Consequently, he would use it in the same
manner he did any other; either regularly and upon proper
occasions only, or irregularly and upon improper ones; according to his sense of decency, and his character of prudence.
Where, then, is the objection' Why, if this miraculous pow.
er was indeed given to the world to propagate Christianity
and attest the truth of it, we might, it seems, have expected,
that other sort of persons should have been chosen to be in
vested with it; or that these should, at the same time, have
been endued with prudence; or that they should have been
continually restrained and directed in the exercise of it; i. e.
that God should have miraculously interposed, if at all, in a
different manner or higher degree.  But, from the observa.
tions made above, it is undeniably evident, that we are not
judges in what degrees and manners it were to have been expected he should miraculously interpose; upon supposition
of his doing it in some degree and manner.  Nor, in the natural course of Providence, are superior gifts of memory, eloquence, knowledge, and othei talents of great influence, conferred only on persons of prudence and decency, or such as
are disposed to make the properest use of them.  Nor is-the
instruction and admonition naturally afforded us for the conduct of life, particularly in our education,' commonly given in
a manner the most suited to recommend it: but often with
circumstances, apt to prejudice us against such instruction.
One might go on to add, that there is a great resemnblance
between the light of nature and of revelation, in several other
respects.  Practical Christianity, or that faith and behaviour
which renders a iman a Christian, is a' plain and obvious
thing; like the common rules of conduct, with respect to our
ordinary temporal affairs.  The more distinct and particular
knowledge of those things, the study of which the Apostle,
calls, going o9n unto perfection.** and of the prophetic parts
~HEb.- vi. 1.




tkl C-ft9Dh11i1tY- OI   Rttki LAtIR   EPARlt It
O'f revelation, like many parts of'natural and even civil knowledge, may require very exact thought and careful consideraw
tion.  The hinderances, too, of natural and of supernatural
light and knowledgej have been of the.same kind. And as
it is owned the whole scheme of'Scripture is not yet understood, so, if it ever comes to be understood, before the restitution of all things,I and without miraculous interpositions, it
must be in the same way as natural knowledge is come at 
by the continuance'and progress of learnihg and of liberty,
and by particular persons, attending to, comparing and pursuing, intimati6ns scattered up and down it, which are overlooiked and disregarded by the generality of the world. Fot
this is the way in which all improvements are made; by
thoughtful men tracing on obscure hints, as it were, dropped
us by nature accidentally, or which seem to come into our
minds by chance.'Nor is it at all incredible% that a book, which
has been so long in the possession of mankind,- should coni
tain many truths as yet undiscovered.  For, all the same
phenomena, and the same faculties of investigation'fi-om.which such great discoveries in natural knowledge'have been
hmade in the present and last age, were equally in the pos.
session of mankind several thousand years before. And pos.
sibly it might be intended,. that eventsi as -they come to pass,
sihould open and ascertain the meaning of several parts of
Scripture.
It may be objected, that this analogy fails in a material respect; for that natural knowledge is of little or no conse,
quence. But I have been speaking of the general instructionl.which nature does or does not afford us. And besides, som-ne
parts of natural knowledge% in the more common restrained
sense of the words, are of the greatest consequence to the
ease and conlvenience of life. But-suppose the analogy did,
as it does not, fail in this respect, yet it might be abundantly
supplied from the whole constitution and course of nature;
which shows, that God does not dispense his gifts according
to our notions of the advantage and consequence they would'be of to us. And this in general, with his method of dis.
pensing knowledge in particulari-would together make out
an analogy full to the point before us.
But it mray be objected still farther, and more generally;'The Scripture represents the'world as in a state of ruin, and
Christianity as an expedient to recover it, to help in these ie,
* Acts iii. 21.




.......   j.......j......              _.cfl,..,,.g
spects where nature fails; in particular to supply the deficiencies of natural light.  Is it credible, then, that so many ages
should have been let pass, before a matter of such a sort, of
Po great and so general importance, was made known to man,
kind; and then that it should be made known to so small a
part. of them? Is it conceivable, that this supply should be
so very deficient, should have the like obscurity and doubtfulness, be liable to the like perversions, in shorts lie open to all
the like objections, as the light of fiature' itself?':  Without
determining how  far this in fact is so; I answer, it is by no
means incredible that it might be so, if the light of nature and
of revelation be from the same hand. Men are naturally liable
to diseases; for which God, in his good providence, has provided natural remedies.t  But remedies existing in nature
have been unknown to mankind for many ages; are known'but to few now; probably many valuable ones are not known
yet. Great has been, and is, the obscurity arid difficulty, in
the nature and application of them. Circumstances seen
often to make them very imprcper, where they are absolutely
nfecessary. It is after long labor and stidy, and many unsuca
cessful endeavours, that they are brought to be as useful as
they are; after high contempt and absolute rejection of the
most useful we have; and after disputes and doubts, which
have seemed to be endless.  The best remedies, too, when
unskilfully,' much more if dishonestly, applied; may produce
new diseases; and, with the rightest application, the success
of them  is often doubtful.  In many cases, they are not at
all effectual; where they are, it is often very slowly: and the
application of.them, and the necessary regimen accompany:
ing it, is, iiot uncommonly, so disagreeable, that some will
not submit to them; and satisfy themselves with the excuse,
that if they would, it is not certain whether it would be suc.
cqssful.  And many persons, who labor under diseases, for
which there are known natural remedies, are not so happy as
to be always, if ever, in the way of thein.  In a word, the
remedies which nature has provided for diseases, are neither
certain, perfect, nor universal.  And indeed the same princi.
pies of arguing, which would lead us to conclude that they
must be so, would lead us likewise to conclude that there could
be no occasion for them: i. e. that there could be no diseases
at all.  And, therefore, our experieime that there are diseasesf
shows, that it is credible beforehand, upon supposition nature
4 Chap. 0. c   -ee  C          6p, 5




170    TH E  CREDIBILITY OP REVELATION    PART. It.
has 1)rovided remedies for them, that these. remedies may be
as by experience we find they are, not certain, nor perfect nor
universal; because it shows, that the prificiples upon wltich
we should expect the contrary, are fallacious.
And now, what is the just consequence from all these
things? Not that reason is no judge of what is offered to us as
beiig of divine revelation. For this would be to infer, that we
are unable to judge of any thing, because we are unable to
judge of all things.  Reason can, and it ought to judge,
not only of the meaning, but also of the morality and the
evidence, of revelation.  First, It is the province of reason to judge of ~the morality of the Scripture; i. e. not whether it contains thinos different from what we should have
expected from a wise, just and good BeingR; for objections
from hence have been now obviated; but whether it contains
things plainly contradictory to wisdom, justice, or goodness; to
w'hat the light. of nature teaches us of God. And I know nothing of this sort objected against Scripture, excepting such objections as are formed upon suppositions, which would eqiually
conclude, that the constitution of nature is contradictory to
wisdom, justice) or goodness; which most certainly it is not.
Indeed, theie are some particular precepts in Scripture, given
to particular persons, requiring actions, which would be immoral and vicious, were it not for such precepts.  But it is
easy to see, that all these are of such a kind, as that the precept changes the whole nature of the case and of the action; and both constitutes and shows that not to be unjust or
immoral, which, prior to the 1recept, must have appealed and
really have been so: whicli may well be, since none of these
precepts are contrary to immutable morality. If it were commanded, to cultivate the principles, and act from the spirit of
treachery, ingratitude, cruelty; the command would not alter
the nature of the case, or of the action in ahy of these instances. But it is quite otherwise in precepts which requiie only
the doing an external action; for instance, taking away the
property or life of any.  For men have no right to either life
or property, but what arises solely from the granit of God.
When this grant is revoked, they cease to have ainy rights at
all in eithir; and when this revocation is made known, as
surely it is possible it may be, it must cease to be unjust to
deprive them of either. And though a course of external
acts, which without command would be immoral, must make
an immoral habit, yet a few detached commands have no such




CHAP. I1I.]    LIABLE TO OBJECTIOINS.                171
natural tendency. I thought proper to say thus much of the
few Scripture preceptst which require, not vicious actions,
but actions which would have been vicious, had it not been
for such precepts; because they are sometimes weakly urged
as immoral, and great weight is laid upon objections drawn
from them. But to me there seems no difficulty at all in
these precepts, but what arises from their being offences;
i. c. from their being liable to be perverted, as indeed they
are, by wicked designing men, to serve the most horrid purposes, and perhaps, to mislead the weak and enthusiastic. And
objections from this head are not objections against revelation, but against the whole notion of religion, as a trial; and
against the general constitution of nature. Secondly, Reason is able to judge, and must, of the evidence of revelation,
and of the objections urged against that evidence; which
shall be the subject of a following chapter.But the consequence of the foregoing observations is, that
the question upon which the truth of Christianity depends, is
scarce at all, what objections there are against its scheme,
since there are none against the morality of it; but wchat objections there are against its evidence: or, what proof there
remains of it, after du&e allowances made for the objections
against that proof. Because it has been shown, that the objections against Christianiiy, as distinguishedfro-mi objections
against its evidence, are frivolous.  For surely very little
weight, if any at all, is to be laid upon a way of arguing and
objecting, which, when applied to the general constitution of
nature, experience shows not tobe conclusive: and such, Ithink,
is the whole way of objectiig treated of throughout this chapter. It is resolvable into principles, and goes upon suppositions,
which mislead us to think, that the Author of nature would
not act, as we experience he does; or would act, in such and
such cases, as we experience he does not in like cases.  But
the unreasonableness of this way of objecting will appear
yet more evidertlly from hence, that the chief things thus objected against, are justified, as shall be farther shown,t by
distinct, particular, and full analogies, in the constitution and
course of nature.
But it is to be remembered, that as frivolous as objections
of the foregoing sort against revelation are, yet, when a supposed revelation is more consistent with itself, and has a
* Chap. 7t Chap. 4, la-ter part; and 5, 6.




:172    THE CREDIBILITY OF- REVELATION, &C. [PART IL
more general and uniform tendency to promote virtue, than,
all circumstances considered, could have been expected from
enthusiam and political views; this is a presumptive proof of
its not proceeding from then, and so of its truth; because
we are competent judges, what might have been expected
fiom enthusiasm and political views.




CHAP. IV.]   CHRISTIANITY AS A SCHEMEj &C.           173
CHAPTER IV,
Of Christianity, considered as a Scheme or Constitution,
impetfectly comprehended.
It hath been now shown,* that the analogy of nature renders it highly credible beforehand, that, supposing a revelation
to be made, it must contain many things very different from
what we should have expected, and such' as'appear open to
great objections; and that this observation, in' good measure,
t kes off the forre of those objections, or rather precludes them.
But it maybe alleged, that this is a very partial answer to
such objections,' or a very unsatisfactory way of obviating
them: because it doth not show at all, that the things object.
ed against can be wise, just, and good; much less, that it
is credible they are so. It will therefore' be proper to show
this distinctly, by applying to these objections against the wisdom, justice, and goodness of Christianity, the answer abovet
given to the like objections against the constitution of nature;
before we consider the particular analogies in the latter, to the
particular things objected against in the former. Now, that
which affords a sufficient answer to objections against the
wisdom, justice, and goodness of the constitution of nature,
is its being a constitution, a system  or scheme, imperfectly
comprehended; a scheme, in which means are made use of
tce accnmplish ends; and which is carried ot by general laws.
For, from these things it has been proved, not only to be possible, but also to be credible,.that those things which are objected against, may be consistent with wisdim, justice, and
goodness; nay, may be instances of them: and even that
tilthe constitution and government of nature may be perfect in
the highest possible degree. If Christianity, then, be a scheme,
and of the like kind, it is evident, the like objections against
it must admit of'the like answer.'And,
* In the foregoing Chapter.
T Part iL Chap. 7, to which this all along refers




174             CHRISTIANITY A SCHEME           LPART IL,
1. Christianity is a scheme, quite beyond our comprehen.
sioin.  The moral government of God is exercised, by graCdu
ally conducting things so in the course of his providence, tnat
every one, at length, and upon the whole, shall receive accord.
ing to his deserts; and neither fraud nor violence, but truth
and right, shall finally prevail.' Christianity is a particular
scheme under this general plan of providence, and a part of it,
conducive to its completion, with regard to mankind; consist'
ing itself also of various parts, and a mysterious economy
which has been carrying on from the time the world came
into its present wretched state, and is still carrying on, for its
recovery, by a divine person, the Messiah;'who is to gather
together inon%, the cluhldren of God that are scattered-abroad,'*
and establish'an everlasting kingdom, wherein dwelleth
righteousness.'t And in order to it, after various manifestations of things, relating to this great and general scheme ol
Providence, through a succession of many ages; —(' for the
Spirit of Christ, which was in the prophets, testified beforehand his sufferings, and the glory that should follow: unto
whom it was revealed, that not unto themselves, but unto us,
they did minister the things which are now reported unto us by
them that have preached the gospel; which things the angels
desires to look into:'t)-after'various dispensations, looking
forward and preparatory to this final salvation,'In the fulness
of time,' when infinite wisdom thought fit, He,,'being in the
form of God, made himself of no reputation, and took upon
himself the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness
of men; and being found in fashion as a man, he humbled
himself, and became obedient to death, even the death of the
cross: wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and
given him a name which is above every name; that at the
name of Jesus every knee should boew, of things in heaven,
and things in the earth, and things under the earth; and that
every tongue should confess, that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the
glory of God the Father.'~  Parts likewise'of this economy
are the miraculous mission of the Holy Glhost, and his ordi.
nary assistances given to good men; the invisible government
which Christ at present exercises over his Church; that which
he himself refers tO in these wiaf-ds,ll'In my father's house
are many mansions —I go to prepare a place for you;' and
his future return to'judge the world in righteousness, and
* John xi. 52.              2 Pet. iii. 13.
Pet.. 11, 12.           PhiL ii.
John xiv. 2.




CHAP. IV.]  IMPERFECTLY COMPREHENDED.'         175
completely re-establish the kingdom  of God.' For the Father judgeth no man; but hath committed all judgment unto
the Son: that all men should honour the Son, even as they
honour the Father.-?  All power is given unto him in heaven
and in earth.t  And he must reign, till he hath put all enemies under his feet. Then cometh the end, when he shall
have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Father;
-when he shall have put down all rule, and all authority and
power. And when all things shall be subdued unto himr
then shall the Son also himself be subject unto him that put
all things under him, that God may be all in all.'t Now
little, surely, need be said to show, that this system, or scheme
of things; is but imperfectly comprehended by us. The
Scripture expressly asserts it' to be so. And, indeed, one
cannot read a passage relating to this'great mystery of
godliness,'-~ but what immediately runs up into something
which shows us our ignorance in it;- as every thing in nature
shows us our ignorance in the constitution of nature. And
whoever will seriously consider that part of the Christian
scheme which is revealed in Scripture, will- find so much
more unrevealed, as will convince him, that, to all the purposes of judging and objecting, we know as little of it, as df the
constitution of nature. Our ignorance, therefore, is as much
an answer to our objections against the perfection of one, as
against the perfection of the other.
II. It.is obvious, too, that in the Christian dispensation, as
~much as in the natural scheme of things, means are made use
of to accomplish ends. And the observation of this furnishes
us with the same answers to objections against the perfection
of Christianity, as to objections of the like kind against the constitution of nature. It shows the credibility, that the things
objected against, how foolislT~ soever they appear to men,
may be the very best means of accomplishing the very best
ends. And their appearing foolishness is no presumption
against this, in a scheme so greatly beyond our comnprehension.
III. The credibility; that the Christian dispensation may
have been, all along, carried on by general laws, no less than
the course of nature, may require to be more distinctly made
out. Consider, then, upon whftt ground it is we say, that the
* John v. 22, 23.   t Matt. xxviii. 1F.    1 Cor. xv.
1 Tim. iii. 16.                  ~1 Cor. i. 18&c




176          CHRIST. AT:I1  AS A SCIsMP"       [PA2R-''I 
whole common.course of nature is carried on according tb gen.
eral fore-ordained laws. We know, indeed, several of the geid.
eral laws of matter; and a great part of the natural behaviotir
of living.agents is reducible to general laws. But we know;,-ih
a manner, nothing, by what laws, storms, and tempests, earth.
quakes, famine, pestilence, become the instruments of destruction to mankind.  And the laws by which persons born into
the world at -such atime and place, are of such capacities, geniuses, tempers; the laws,:by which thoughts come into oui
mind, in a multitude of cases; and by which innumerablie
things happen, of the greatest influence upon the affairs aini
state of the world: these laws are so wholly unknown to us,
that we call the events, which come to pass by them, acci.
dental; though all reasonable men know certainly, that there
cannot, in reality, be any such thing, as chance; and conclude,
that the things which have this appearance,' are the result o'I
general laws, and may be reduced into them. It is then but
an exceeding little way, and in but a very few respects, that
we can trace up the natural course of things before'-us, to
general lawvs.. And it is only from analogy that we conclude
the whole of it to be capable of being reduced into them,
only from our seeing, that part is so. It:is from our finding,
tha-t the course of nature, in some respects and so far, goes on
by general laws, that we conclude this of the rest. And il
that be a just ground for such a conclusion, it -is a just-grouned
also, if not to conclude, yet to comprehend, to render it suppos.
able and. credible, which is sufficient for answering objections,
that God's miraculous interpositioins'may hav been, all along,
in like manner, by general laws of wisdom. Thus, that rniu'i
culous powers.should be exerted at such times, upon such
occasions, in such degrees and manners, and with regard to
such persons, rather than others; that the affairs of the
world; beiOng permitted to go on- in their natural course so fart
should,'just' at'suchd a point, have a new direction given them
by miraculous interpositions,; that these interpositions should
be exactly iln such degrees and respects only: all this may
have been by general laws.  These laws are unknown,
indeed,- to us; but no more unknown, than the laws from
whence it is, that some die as soon as they are born,' and
others live to extreme old age; that one man is so superiori to
another in understanding; with innumerable more things,
which, as was before observed, we cannot reduce to any laws
or rules at all, though it is taken for granted, they are as
much reducible to general ones as gravitation.  Now, if the




CHAP. IV.    IMPERFECTLY COMPREHENtiED.            1'7
revealed disponsations of Providence, and- miraculous interpo.
sitions, be by general laws, as well as God's ordinary governrnent in the course of nature, made known by reason and
experience; there is no more reason to expect that every exigence, as it arises, should be provided for by these general
laws of miraculous interposition, than that every exigence in
nature should, by the general laws of nature: yet there might
be wise and good reasons, that miraculous interpositions should
be by general laws; and that these laws should not be broken
in upon, or deviated from, by other miracles.
Upon the whole, then, the appearances of deficiencies and
irregularities in nature,-is owing to its being a scheme but in
part made known" and of such a certain:particular kind in
other respects." Now we see no more reason, why the frame
and course of nature should be such a scheme, than why
Christianity should. And that the. former is such a scheme,
renders it credible, that the latter,- upon'supposition: of its
truith, may-bee so too. And as it is manifest, that Christianity
is a scheme revealed but in part, and a scheme' in which
means are made use of to accomplish ends, like to: that df
nature; so the credibility that it may have been all along
carried on by general laws no less than the course  of nature,
has' been'distinctly proved. And from all this it is beforehand
ciedible, that there might, I think probable that there would,.be the like appearance of deficiencies and irregularities in
Christianity as' in nature; i. e. that Christianity would be
liable to the like'objections, as the frame of nature. And
these objections are answered by'these observations concerning Christianity; as the like'objections against the frame of
nature, are answered by the like observati6ns concerning- the
frame of nature.
The objections against Christianity, cbnsidered as a matter
of fact, having, in general, been obviated in the preceding
chapter: and the same, considered as made against the wisdom and goodness of it, having been obviated in this; the
next thing, according to the method proposed, is to show, that
the principal objections in particular, against Christianity,
may be answered by p-Articular and full analogies in nature.
And as one of them is mnarLe. ai:inst the whole scheme of it




I'78          CHRISTIANITY AS A SCHEME         LPA.T I1,
together, as just now described, I choose to consider it here
rather than in a distinct chapter by itself.  The thing objected
against this scheme of the gospel is,' That it seems to suppose God was reduced to the necessity of a long series of intricate means, in order to accomplish his ends, the recovery
and salvation of the world; in like sort as men, for want of
understanding, or power, not being able to come at their ends
directly,, are forced to go round about ways, and make use of
many perplexed contrivances to arrive at them.' Now, every
thing which we see shows the folly of this, considered as an
objection against the truth of Christianity.  For, according
to our manner of conception, God makes use of variety. of
means, what we often think tedious ones, in the natural
course of providence, for the accomplishment of all his ends.
Indeed, it is certain, there is somewhat in this matter quite
beyond our comprehension; but the mystery is as great in
nature as in Christianity. We know what we ourselves aim
at, as final ends; and what courses we take, merely as means
conducing to those ends.  But we are greatly ignorant, how
far things are considered by the Author of nature, under the
single notion of means and ends; so as that it may be said,
this is merely an end, and that merely means; in his regard.
And whether there be not some peculiar absurdity in our very
manner of conception concerning this matter somewhat contradictory, arising from  our extreilely imperfect views of
things, it is impossible to say. However, thus much is manifest, that the whole natural world and government of it is a
scheme, or system; not. a fixed, but a progressive one: a
scheme, in Which the operation of various means takes up a
great length of time, before the ends they tend to can be at
tained. The change of seasons, the ripening of the fruits of
the earth,'the very history of a flower, is an instance of this;
and so is human life. Thus, vegetable bodies, and those ot
animals, though possibly fornned at once,'yet grow up by degrees to a mature state. And thus rational agents, who
animate these latter bodies, are naturally directed to form,
each- his own manners and character, by the gradual gaining
of knowledge and experience, and by a long course of action.
Our existence is not only successive, as it must be of necessity,
but onet state of our life and being is appointed by God to be
a preparation for another; and that, to be the means of attaining to another succeeding one: Infancy to childhood;
childhood to youth; youth to mature age. Men are impatient, and for precipitating things: but the A.ithor of naturc




atppears deliberate throughout his operations; accomplishing
his natural ends by slow successive steps. And there is a
plan of things beforehand laid out, which, from the nature of
it, requires various systems of means, as well at length of
time, in order to the carryiirg on its several parts into execution. Thus, in the daily course of natural providence, God
operates in the very same manner as in the dispensation'of
Christianity: making one thing subservient to another; this,
to somewhat farther; and so on, through a progressive series
of means, which extend, bothbackward and foryard, beyond
our utmost view. Of this manner of operation, every tling
we see in the course of nature is as much anh isttance, as aty
rft   Ci -  aistian tiop fti~,.




'10            - TH  APPOINTMENT F0           [PAT n.
CHAPTER V..
Of the particular System of Christianity; the Appointment
of a JMediator, and the Redemption of the World by himn.
THERE is not, I think, any thing relating to Christianity,
which has been more objected against, than the mediation of
Christ, in some or other of its parts. Yet,.upon thorough
consideration, there seems nothing less justly liable to it.
For,
I. The whole analogy of nature removes all imagined pre.
sumption against the general notion of'a Mediator between
God and man.'- For we-find, all living creatures are brought
into the world, and their life in ififancy is preserved, by the
instrumentality of others; and every satisfaction of it, some
way or other, is bestowed by the like means. So that the
visible government, which God exercises over the world, is by
the instrumentality and mediation of others. And how far
his invisible government be or be not so, it is impossible to
determine at all by reason. And the supposition, that part
of it is so, appears, to say the least, altogether as credible as
the contrary. There is then no sort of objection, from the
light of nature, against the general notion of a mediator be.
tween God and man, considered as a doctrine of Chlistianity,
or as an appointment in this dispensation; since we find, by
experience, that God does appoint mediators, to be the instruments of good and evil to us, the instruments of his justice
and his mercy. And the objection here referred to is urged,
not against mediation in that high, eminent, and peculiar
sense, in which Christ is our mediator; but absolutely against
the whole notion itself of a mediator at all.
II. As we must suppose, that the world is under the
* 1 Tim. it. 5.




VEIP. V. -    A MEDIAtOR  AN)''EDMEAIER.          181
proper moral government of God, or in a state o' religioni, before we can enter into consideration of the revealed doctrine
conlcerning the redemption of it by Christ; so that supposi.
tion is here to be distinctly taken notice of  Now, the divine
moral government which religion teaches us, implies, that the
consequence of vice shall be misery, in some future'state, by
the righteous judgment of God. That such consequent pun.
ishment shall take effect by his appointment, is necessarily
implied.  But; as it is not in any sort to be supposed, that we
are made acquainted with all the ends or reasons for which
it is fit future punishment should be inflicted, or why God
has appointed such and such consequent misery should follow vice; and as we are altogether in the dark, how or in
what manner it shall follow, by what immediate oceasions,
or by the instrumentality of what means; there is p) absurdity in supposing, it may follow in a way analogous to
that in which many miseries follow such and such courses
of -action at present; poverty, sickness, infamy, untimely
death by diseases, death from the hands of civil justice.
There is no absurdity ill supposing filture punishment may
follow wickedness of course, as we speak, or in the way of
natural consequences, from God's original constitution of the
world; from the nature he has given us, and from the condi
tion in which he places us: or, in like manner, as a person
rashly trifling upon a precipice. in the way of natural conse.
quence, falls down; in the vway of natural consequence, breaks
his limbs, suppose; in the wv'ay of natural consequence of this,
Writhout help, perishes.
Some good men may, perhaps, "be offended, with hearing
it spoken of as a supposable thinl, that the future pulnishments of wickedness may be'in the way of natural consequence; as if this Nwere taking c the execution of justice out of
the hands of God, and giving it to nature.  But they should
remember that when things come to pass according to the
course of nature, this does not hinder them from being his
doing; who is the God of nature; and that the Scripture ascribes those punishments to divine justice, which are known
to be natural; and which must be called so, when distinguished from such as are miraculous.  But, after all, this
supposition, or rather this way of speaking, is here made use
of only by way of illustration of the subject before us.  For,'
since it must be admittedl, that the future punishment of
wickedness is not a matter of arbitrary appointment, but of
reason, equity, and justice; it comes, for aught I see, to the




182              TIE APP(YINTMXT 0e [0,
same thing, whether it is supposed to be inflicted in v way
analogous to that in which the temporal punishments of vice
and folly are inflicted, or in any other way. And though
there were a difference, it is allowable in the.esent case to
make this supposition, plainly not an incredible' one, That
future punishment may follow wickedness in the way of
natural consequence1 or according to some general laws of
government already eatablished in the universe.
III. Upon this supposition. or even without it, we may
observe somewhat, much to the present purpose, in the constitution of nature, or appointments of providence: the pro'
vision -which is rmade, that all the bad natural consequences
of men's actions should not always actually follow; or, that
such bad consequences, as, according to the settled course
of things, would inevitably have followed, if not prevented,
should, in certain: degrees, be prevented.  We are apt, proe
sumptuously to im',agine% that the: world might have been so
constituted, as that there would not have been any such' thing
as misery or evil. On the contrary, we find the Author of
nature permits it. But then, he has provided reliefs, and1
in many cases, perfect remedies for it, after some. pains and
difficulties; rei:ef and remedies even for that evil, which is
the fruit of our oawn misconduct, and which, in.the course of
nature, would have continued, and ended in our,destruction'D
but for such remedies.  And this is an. instance both of se!
verity and of indulgernce- in: the constitution of nature.  Thus1
all the bad consequences, now mentioned, of a man's trifling
upon. a precipice, might be preveirted.  And, though all were
not, yet some of them mio-ht, by proper interpositi.on, if not
rejected'; by another's comning to the rash man's relief, with
nis own laying hold on that relief, in' such sort as the case
requires.  Persons may do a great deal themselves- towards
preventing' the bad consequences -of their follies; and more
may be done by themse-tes together with th  a.ssistance of
oth rs, their fellov creatreeturs; which assistance nature re;
quires and prompts us to. Tiis is the general constitution of
the world:.' Now, suppose it had been so constituted, that
after suchl' acticaqs were done, as were foreseen naturally to
draw after themnr misery' to. the doer, it should tihave been -n
more in- humanr pvwyer to, have prevenlted that naturaily consequent misery, in any instance, than it is. in all; no one can
say, whether such a more severe constitution of things might
pot yet ha-ve- been really good. But that, -on the contrary,
4sioni r ma be-y natube-that we may and do, to. so  erat




"IljiI.?o]   A MDIATOR.AdID REDEEMER.             1
degree, prevent the bad natural effects of our follies;  thi
may be called mercy, or compassion, in the original constitution of the world; compassion, as distinguished froi.goodness in general. And, the whole known constitution and
course of things affording us instances of such compassion,
it would be according to the analogy of nature to hope.'hat,
however ruinous the natural conisequences of vice might be,
from the general laws of God's government over the universe,
yet provision might be made, possibly might have been
originally made, for preventing those ruinous consequences
rom inevitably following; at least from following universally,
and in all cases.
Many, I am sensible, will wonder at finding this made a
question, or spoken of as in any degree doubtful. The generality of mankind are so far from having that awful sense of
things, which the present state of vice and misery and darkness seems to make but reasonable, that they have scarce any
apprehension, or thought at all, about this matter, any way;
and some serious persons may have spoken unadvisedly concerming it. But let us observe, what we experience to be, and
what, from the very constitution of nature, cannot but be, the
consequences of irregular and disorderly behaviour; even of
such rashness, wilfulness, neglects, as we scarce call vicious.
Now, it is natural to apprehend, that the bad consequences of
irregularity will be greater, in proportion as the irregularity is
so, And there is no comparison between these irregularities
and the greater instances of vice, or a dissolute profligate disregard to a releigion; if there be any thing at all in religion
For, consideri what it is for creatures, moral agents, presump.
tuously to introduce that confusion and misery into the kingdom of God, which mankind have, in fact, introduced; to blaspheme the sovereign Lord of all; to contemn his authority;
to be injurious to the degree they are, to their fellow-creatures,
the creatures of God. Add, that the effects of vice, in the present world, are often extreme misery, irretrievable ruin, and
even death: anid, upon putting all this together, it will appear,
that as no one can say, in what degree fatal the unprevented
consequences of vice may be, according to the general rule of
divine government; so it is by no means intuitively certain,
how far these conrsequences could possibly, in the nature of the
thing, be prevented, consistently with the eternal rule of right,
or with what, is, in fact, the moral constitution of nature.
However, there would be large ground to hope, that the universal governmenit was not so severely strict, but that there




184              THE APPOINTMENT  OF'          PART.:,
was room for pardon, or for having those penal consequences
prevented. Yet,.
IV. There seems no probability, that any thing we' could
do, would alone, and of itself; prevent them; prevent their following,, or being inflicted. But one would think, at least, it
were impossible that the Contrary should be. thought certain
For we are not acquainted with the whole of the case.: We
are not informed of all the reasons.which render it fit that
future punishments should be inflicted; and, therefore, cannot
know, whether any thing we could do would make such an
alteration, as to render it fit that they should be remitted.' We
do not know, what the whole natural or appointed consequences of vice are, nor in what way they would follow, if not pre
vented; and, therefore, can in no sort say, whether we'could
do any thing, which would be sufficient to prevent them
Our ignorance being thus manifest, let us recollect the analogy
ofnature, or providence. For though this may be but a slight
ground to raise a positive opinion upon in this.matter, yet it is
sufficient to answer a mere arbitrary assertion, without any
kind of evidence, urged by way of objection against a doctrine,
the proof of which is not reason, but revelation.. Consider,
then, people ruin their fortunes by extravagance; they bring
diseases.upon'themselves by excess;' they incur the penalties
of civil laws, and surely civil government is natural::'will sorrow: for these follies past, and behaving well for the future,
alone and of itself, prevent the natural consequences of them'?
On the contrary, men's natural abilities of helping themselves
are often impaired; or, if not, yet they are forced to be: be.
holden to the assistance of others, uponseveral accounts,. and
in different ways: assistance which they would have-had no
~ccasion for, had it not been for their misconduct; but which,
in' the disadvantageous condition they have reduced them*selves to, is absolutely necessary to their recovery, and re.
trieving their affairs. Now, since this is our case, considering
ourselves merely as inhabitants of this world, and as having
a temporal interest here, under the natural government of
God, which, however, has a great deal moral in it; why is
it not supposable, that this may be our'case also in our more.important capacity, as under his perfect moral government,
and having a more general and future interest depending? If
w:e have misbehaved in this higher capacity, and rendered
ourselves obnoxious to the future punishment which God has
annexed to vice; it is plainly credible, that- behaving well.fa




CHArP. V.]    A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER.            185
the time to come, may be-not. useless, God forbid-but
wholly insufficient, alone and of itself, to prevent that punish.
ment; or to put us in the condition which we should have
been in, had we preserved our innocence.
And though we ought to reason with all reverence, when.
ever we reason concerning the divine conduct, yet it may be
added, that it is clearly contrary to all our notions of government, as well as to what is, in fact, the general constitution
of nature, to suppose that doing well for the future, should
in all cases, prevent all the judicial bad consequences of having done evil, or all the punishment annexed to disobedience.
And we have manifestly nothing from whence to determine,
in what degree, and in what cases, reformation would pro
vent this punishment, even supposing that it would in some.
And, though the efficacy of repentance itself alone, to prevent what mankind had rendered themselves obnoxious to,
and recover what they had forfeited, is now insisted upon, in
opposition to Christianity; yet, by the general prevalence of
propitiatory sacrifices over the heathen world, this notion, of
repentance alone being sufficient to expiate guilt, appears to
be contrary to the general sense of mankind.
Upon the whole, then, had the laws, the general laws of
God's government, been permitted to operate, without any
interposition in our behalf, the future punishment, for aught
we know to the contrary, or have any reason to think, must
inevitably have followed, notwithstanding any thing we could
have done to prevent it. Now,
V. In this darkness, or this light of nature, call it which you
please, revelationcomes in; confirmsevery doubting fear, which
could enter into the heart of man, concerning the future unprevented consequence of wickedness; supposes the world
to be in a state of ruin, (a supposition which seems the very
ground of the Christian dispensation, and which, if not proveable
by reason, yet it is in no wise contrary to it;) teaches us, too,
that the rules of divine government are such, as not to admit of
pardon immediately and directly upon repentance, or by the
sole efficacy of it; but then teaches, at the same time, what
nature might justly have hoped, that the moral government of
the universe was not so rigid, but that there was room for an
interposition to avert the fatal consequences of vice; which
therefore, by this means, does admit of pardon. Revelation
teaches us, that the unknown laws of God's more general
government, no less than the particular laws by which we




186                THEB AFOINTXMT    T STOF          GrgT ai
experience he governs us at present, are compassionate,* aswell as good, in the more general notion of goodness; and
that he hath mercifully provided, that there should be an
interposition to prevent the destruction of human kind, what.ever that destruction unprevented v.o'uld have been.'God so
loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that
whosoever believeth,' not, to be sure, in a speculative, but in
-a practical sense,'that whosoever believeth in him should not
perish;'t gave his son in the same way of goconess to the
world, as he affords particular persons the friendly assistance
of their fellow-creatures, when, without it, their temporal ruinwould be the certain consequence of their follies; in the
same way of goodness, I say, though in a transcendent and
infinitely higher degree.  And the Son of God'loved us, and
have himself for us,' with a love which he himself compares
to' that of human friendship; though, in this case, all comparisons must fall infinitely short of the thing intended to
be illustrated by them. He interposed in such a. manner, as
was, necessary and effectual to prevent that execution of jus.
tice upon sinners, which God had appointed should otherwise
have been executed upon them; or in such a manner, as
to prevent that punishment from actually following, which,
according to the general laws of divine government, must
-have followed the sins of the world, had it not been for such
interposition.+
- If any thing here said should appear, upon first thought,
inconsistent with divine goodness, a second, I am persuaded,
* Page 128,&c.             t John iii. 16.
f It cannot, I suppose, be imagined, even by the most cursory reader,
that it is, in any sort, affirmed, or implied, in any thing said in this chap.
ter, that none can have the benefit of the general redemption, but such
as have the advantage of being made aequainted with it in the present
life.-But, it may be needful to mention, that several questions, which
have been brought into the subject before us, and determined, are not in
the least entered into here; questions which have been, I fear, r.shly
determined, and, perhaps, with equal rashness, contrary ways. For in.
stance: Whether God could have saved the world by other means than
the death of Christ, consistently with the general laws of his government?
And, had not Christ came into the world, what would have been the
future condition of the better sort of maen; those just persons over the
face of the earth, for whom Manassea in his prayer asserts, repentance
was not appointed? The meaning of the first of these questions is
greatly ambiguous; and neither of them can properly be answered,
without going upon that infinitely absurd supposition, that we know'
the whole of the case. And, perhaps, the very inquiry, what aowdd haw:c!lowed if God had not done as he has? may have in it some very great
i>propriety; and ought not to be carried on any farther than is neees
asry to help our partial and inadequate conceptions of things.




CiA.k.3     A MXt11A.-T   Acth lUDfElXER.           let
will entirely remove that appearance.  For, were w*. to s8ppose the conistitution of things to be such, as that the whole
creation must h/ave.. crished, had it not been for somewhat,
which God had aplpoiited should be in order to prevent that
ruin; even this supposition would not be inconsistent, in any de.
gree, with the nodstabsolutelyperfect goodness. But stil. itmay
be thought, that this whole manner of treating the subject before us, supposes mankind to be naturally in a very st.range
state. And truly so it does. But it is not Christianity wuhich
has put us into this state Whoever will consider the manifold
miseries, and the extreme wickedness oflthe world; that the
best have great wrongnesses with themselves, which they
corrplain of, and endeavour to amend; but, that the generality grow more profligate and corrupt with age.: that heathen moralists thought the present state to be a state of punishment; and, what niight be added, that the earth, ourhabitation,
has the appearance'of being a ruin: whoever, I say, will consider all these, and some other obvious things, will think he
has little reason to object against the Scripture account, that
mankind is in a state of degradation; against this being the
fact: how  difficult sdever he may think it to account for,
or even to fdrnm a distinct conception of, the occasions and circumstances of it. But that the' crime of our first parents was
the occasion of our being placed in a more disadvantageous
condition, is a thinsg throughouxt, and particularly analogous
to what we see, in tlie daily course of natural Providence; as
the recovery of the world, by the interposition of Christ, has
been shown to be so in general.
VI. Theparticular manner inwhich Christ interposed in the
redemption of the world, or his office as Mediator, in the
largest sense, between God and man, is thus represented to
us in the Scripture:' He is the light of the world;'* the revealer of the will of God in the most eminent sense: He is a
popitiatory sacrifice;t-' the Lamb of God;'J and as he volufitarily offered himself up, he is styled our High Priest.~
And, which seems of peculiar weight, he is described before.
hand in the Old testament, under the same characters of a
priest, and expiatory victim. 1  And whereas it is objected,
* John i. and vAiii. 12.
fRom. iii. 25, and. 11. ICor. v. 7. Eph. v. 2. lJohn ii. 2
Matt:- xxvi. 28.
$ John i. 29, 36, and throughout the book of Revelation.
~ liroughout the. Epitle to the Hebrews.
U Isa lii,. Dall. ix. 24. Psalm cx. 4




1-88             THE APPOINTMENT OF,          [PARt U',
that aU this is merely by way of allusion to the sacrifices of
the Mosaic law, the apostle, on the contrary, affirms, that the'law was a shadow of good things to come, and not the very
image of the things;'" and that the priests that offer gifts
according to the law —serve unto the example and shadow
of heavenly things, as Moses was admonished of God, when
he was about to make the tabernacle.'For see,' saith he,'that thou make all- things according to the pattern showed
to thee in the mount:'t i. e. the Levitical priesthood was a
shadow of the priesthood of Christ, in like manner as the tabernacle made by Moses was according to that showed him
in the Mount. The priesthood of Christ and the tabernacle
in the Mount, were the originals: of the former of which, the
Levitical priesthood was a type; and of the latter, the taber.
nacle made byMoses was a copy. The doctrine of this
epistle; then, plainly is, that the legal sacrifices were allusions
to the great and final atonement to be made by the blood of
hnrist; and not that this was an allusion to those. Nor can
any thing be more express and determinate; than the following passage:'It is not possible that the blood of bulls and of
goats should take away sin. Wherefore, when he cometh
into the world, he saith, Sacrifice and offering,' i. e. of bulls
and of goats,' thou wouldst not, but a body hast thou prepared me-Lo, I come to do thy will, O God. — By which
will we are sanctified, through the offering of the body of
Jesus Christ once for all:'t And to add- one passage more
of the like kind:' Christ was once offered to bear the sins of
many; and unto them that look for him shall he appear the
second time, without sin;' i. e. without bearing sin, as he did
at his first coming, by being an offering for it; ivithout
having our iniquities again laid updn him, without being any
more a sin-offering;-' Unto them that look for him shall he
appear the second time, without sin, unto salvation.'~  Nor
do the inspired writers at all confine themselves to this man
ner of speaking concerning the satisfaction of Christ, but declare an efficacy in what he did and suffered for us; additional
to, and beyond mere instruction, example, and government,
in a great variety of expression:' That Jesus should die for
that nation,' the Jews;'and not for that hation only, but that
also,' plainly by the efficacy. of his death,' he should gather
together in onre the children of God that were scattered
* Heb. x. 1.    t Heb. viii: 4; 5.   t Heb. x. 4, 5i 7, 9 IO.
~ Heb. ix. 28.




WhAP. v.J    A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER.                  19
abroad:'* that'he suffered for sins, the just for the unjust;'t
that' he gave his life, himself, a ransom:'$ that'we are
bought, bought with a price:'~ that'he redeemed us with
his blood; redeemed us from  the curse of the law, being
made a curse for us:'1l that he is our'advocate, intercessor,
and propitiation:'T that'he was made perfect (or cQnsummate) through sufferings; and being thus made perfect, he
became the author of salvation:'" that' God was in Christ,
reconciling the world to himself; by the death of his Son by
the cross; not imputing their trespasses unto them:'tt and,
lastly, that'through death he destroyed him  that had the
power of death.)44  Christ, then, having  thus'humbled
himself, and become obedient to death, even the death of the
cross, God also- hath highly exalted him, and given hima;
name which is above every name; hath given all things into
his hands; hath committed all judgment unto him; that all
men should honor the Son, even as they honor the Father.'~~
For,' worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power,
and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and h6nor, and glory,
and blessing! And every creature which is in heaven, and
on the earth, heard I, saying, B! essing, and honor, and glory,
and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and
unto the Lamb, for ever and ever!' IIl
These passages of Scripture seem to comprehend and ex
press the chief parts of Christ's office, as mediator between
Goal and man; so far, I mean, as the nature of this his office
is revealed: and it is usually treated of by divines under
three heads.
First, He was, by the way of eminence, the Prophet:' that
Prophet that should come into the world,'~rfI to declare the di'
vine will.  He published anew the law of nature, which men
had corrupted; and the very knowledge of which, to some
degree, was lost among them.  He taught mankind, taught
us authoritatively, to' live soberly, righteously and godly in
+ John xi. 51, 52.   t 1 Pet. iii. 18.
Matt. xx. 28. Mark x. 45. 1 Tim. ii. 6.
2 Pet. ii. 1. Rev. xiv. 4. 1 Cor. vi. 20.
I Pet. i 19. Rev. v. 9. Gal. iii 13.
~ Heb. vii. 25. 1 John ii. 1, 2.
** Heb. ii. 10, and v. 9.
tt 2 Cor. v. 19. Rom. v. 10. Eph. ii. 16.
ft Heb. ii. 14. See also a remarkable passage in the book of Job,
rxxiii. 24.
~~Phil. ii. 8, 9. John iii. 35, and v. 22, 23.
~j Rev, v. 12, 13.             ~ rJohn vi. 14.




190              THE APPOINTMENET OF           [wtr  T.
this present world,' in expectation of the future judgment of
God.  He confirmed the truth of this moral system of nature,
and gave us additional evidence of it; the evidence of testE
nmony.* He distinctly revealed the manner in which God
would be worshipped, the efficacy of repentance, and the rewards and punishments of a future life. Thus he was a prophet in a-sense in which no other ever was.  To which is to
be added, that he set us a perfect'example, that we should
follow his steps.'
Secondly, He has a' klngdom, which is not of this woridf
He founded a church, to be to mankind a standing memorial
of religion, and invitation to it; which he promised to be with
always, even to the end. He exercises an invisible government over it himself, and by his Spirit;over that part of it
which is militant here on earth, a government of discipline,' for the perfecting of the saints, for the edifying his body; till
we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of
the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the
stature of the fulness of Christ.'t  Of this church, all persons
scattered over the world, who live in obedience to his laws,
are members.  For these he is' gone to prepare a place, and
will come again to receive them  unto himself, that where he
is, there they may be also; and reign with him for ever and
ever.:'T and likewise' to take vengeance on them that know
not God, and obey not his gospel.'~
Against these parts of Christ's office, I find no objections
but what are fully obviated. in the beginning of this Chapter.
Lastly, Christ offered himself a propitiatory sacrifice, and
made atonement for the sins of the world: which is mentioned
last, in regard to what is objected against'it.  Sacrifices of expiation were commanded the Jews, and obtained amongst most
other nations, from tradition, whose oriinal probably was- revelatiaon. And they were continually repeated, both occasionally and at the returns of stated times; and made up great
part of the external religion of mankind.' But now once in
the end of the world Christ appeared, to put away sin by the
sacrifice of himself.'ll And this sacrifice was in the highest
degree, and with the most extensive influence, of that efficacy
for obtaining pardon of sin, which the heathens may be supl
posed to have thought their sacrifices to have been, and which
* Page 163, &c.               t Eph. iv. 12, 3.
3John xiv. 2, 3. Rev. iii. 21, aid xi. 15.
2 Thess. i. 8.               It He. ix. 26.




CUfAP,. t.   A MEDIATOR Ait,- ADViEMER.            191
the Jewish sacrifices realy, were in some degree, and with
regard to some persons.
How, and in what particular Way; it had this efficacy, there
are not wanting persons who have endeavoured to explain;
but I do not find that the Scripture has explained it. We
seem to be very mtuch ifi thei dark ebncemrning the manner in
which the ancients understood atonement to be made, i. e. pardon to be' obtained, by sacrifices. And if the Scripture has,
as surely it has, left this matter of the satisfaction of Christ
mysterious, left somewhat in it unrevealed, all conjectures
about it must be, if not evidently absurd, yet at least uncertain.  Nor has any one reasrin to complain for want of farther information, unless he can show his claim to it.
Some have endeavoured to explain the efficacy- of what
Christ has done and suffered for us, beyond what the Scrip
ture has authorized; others, probably because they could not
explain it, have been for taking it awVay; and confining his office
as Redeemer of the worild, to his instruction, example, and go
vernment of the church; whereas the doctrine of the gospel
appears to be, not only that hetaught the efficacy of repentance, but rendered it of the efficacy which it is, by what he
did and suffeied for us: that he obtained for us the benefit of
having our repentance accepted unto eternal life: riot only that
Ihe revealed to sinners, that they were iin a capacity of salvation, and how they might obtain it; but, mobreover, that he put
them into this capiacity of salvation, by what he did and suffered for them; put us into a capacity of escaping filture pun.
ishment, and obtaining future happiness.  And it is our wisdom thankfully to accept the benefit, by performing the conditions upon which it s13 offered, on our part, without disputing
how it was procured on his. For,
VII. Since we neither know by what means punishment
ii a future state would have followed wickedness in this; nor
in what manner it w6uld have been ihflicted, had it not been
prevynted; riot ail the reasons why its infliction twould have
been needful; nor the particular' nature of that state of happiness which Christ has gone to prepare for his disciples;
and since -we are ignorant how far any thing which we could:lo, would, alone and of itself, have been effectual to prevent
that punishment to which we are obnoxiotls, an'd recover that
happiness which we had forfeited; it is most evident we are.ot judges, antecedently to revelation, whether a mediator
wass or w'as not necessary to obtain those ends; to prevent
that future punishment, and bring mankind to the final hap




19.)2'THE  APPOIfTMEfT *'O         [PART- 1I,
piness of their nature. And for the very same reasons, upon
supposition of the necessity of a mediator, we are no more
judges, antecedently to revelation, of the whole nature of his
office, or the several parts of which it consists; of what was
fit and requisite to be assigned him, in order to accomplish the
-ends of divine Providence in the appointment. And from
hence it follows, that to object against the expediency or use.
fulness of particular things revealed to have been done or
suffered bj him, because we do not see how they were
conducive. to those ends, is highly absurd. Yet iothing is
more common to be met with, than this absurdity.  But if it
be acknowledged beforehand, that we are not judges in the
case, it is evident that no objection can, with any shadow of
reason, be urged against any particular pait of Christ's mediatorial office tevealed iii Scripture, till it can be shown posi.
tively, not to be requisite, or conducive, to the ends proposed
to'be accomplished; or that it is in itself unreasonable.
And there is one objection made against the satisfaction of
Christ, which looks to be of this positive kind  that the doctrine of'his being appointed to suffer for the sins of the world,
represents GCod as being indifferent whether:he punished the
innocent or the guilty.  Now, from  the foregoing observa
tions, we may see the extreme slightiiess of all such objec
tions; and, (though it is most certain all who make them do
not see the consequence,) that they conclude altogether as
much against God's whole original constitution of nature,
and the whole daily course of divine Providence, in the government of the world, i. e. against the whole scheme of
theism and the whole notion of religion, as against Christianity.
For the world is a constitution, or system, whose parts have
a mutual reference to each other; and there is a scheme of
things gradually carrying on, called the course of nature, to
the carrying on of which God has appointed us, in various
ways, to contribute. And when, in the daily course of
natural providence, it is appointed that innocent people should
suffer for the faults of the guilty, this is liable to the very
same objection as the instance we are now considering. The
infinitely greater importance of that appointment of Chris.
tianity which is objected against, does not hinder but it may
be, as-it plainly is, an appointment of the very same kind
with what the world affords us daily examples of. Nay, if
there were any force at all!in the objection, it would be
stronger, in one respect,. against natural providence, than
again~st-Christianity; because, under the former, we are in




arAP. v.]    A MEDIATOR AND:REDEEMER.              193
many cases commanded, and even necessitated, whether we
will or no, to suffer for the faults of others; whereas the
sufferings of Christ were voluntary.  The world's being
under the righteous government of God, does indeed imply,
that finally, and upon the whole, every one shall receive according to his personal deserts; and the general doctrine of
the whole Scripture is, that this shall be the completion of
the divine government. But, during the progress, and, for
ought we know, even in order to the completion of this moral
scheme, vicarious punishments may be fit, and absolutely
necessary. Men, by their follies, run themselves into extreme distress; into difficulties which would be absolutely
fatal to them, were it not for the interposition and assistance
of others.  God commands by the law of nature, that we
afford them this assistance, in many cases where we cannot
do it without very great pains, and labour, and sufferings to
ourselves. And we see in what variety of ways one person's
sufferings contribute to the relief of another; and how, or by
what particular means, this comes to pass, or follows, from
the constitution and laws of nature, which come under our
notice; and being familiarized to it, men are not shocked
with it.  So that the reason of their insisting upon objections
of the foregoing kind, against the satisfaction of Christ, is,
either that they do not consider God's settled and uniform appointment as his appointment at all, or else they forget that
vicarious punishment is a providential appointment of every
day's experience: and then, from their being unacquainted
with the more genreral laws of nature, or divine government
over the world, and not seeing how the sufferings of Christ
could contribute to the redemption of it, unless by arbitrary
and tyrannical will, they conclude his sufferings could not
contribute to it any other way. And yet, what has been
often alleged in justification of this doctrine, even from the
apparent natural tendency of this method of our redemption —
its tendency to vindicate the authority of God's laws, and
deter his creatures from sin: this has never yet been answered, and is, I think, plainly unanswerable: though I am
far from thinking it an account of the whole of the case. But
without taking this into consideration, it abundantly appears,
from the observations above made, that this objection is, not
an objection against Christianity, but against, the whole
general constitution of nature. And if it were to be considered as an objection against Christianity, or considering it as;t is, an objaction against the constitution of nature, it amounts
9




i04.r H, APPOINTXMENT. OF         [CP-ART U.
to no nibre in conclusion than this, that a divine appointment
cannot be necessary, or expedient, because the objector does
not discern it to be so; though he must own that the nature
of the case is such, as renders him incapable of judging whether it be so or not; or of -seeing it to be necessary, though it
were so.
It is indeed a niatter of treat piatience to ieasonable men,
to find people arguing in this manner; objecting against the
credibility of such particular things revealed in Scripture, that
they do not see the necessity or expediency of them.  For,
though it is highly right, and the most pious exercise of our
understanding, to inquire with due reverence into the ends
and reasons of God's dispensations; yet, when those reasons
are concealed, to argue from our ignorance, that such dispensations cannot be from God, is infinitely absurd. The
presumption of this kind of objections seems almost lost in
the folly of them. And the folly of them is yet greater, when
they are urged, as usually they are, against things in Christianity.analogous, or like to those natural dispensations of
Providence, which are matter. of experience. Let reason be
kept to; and, if ariy part of fhe Scripture account of the redemption of the world by Christ can be showihi ti be really contrary to it, let the Scripture, in the name of Go4 be given up:
but let not such poor creatures as we, go onobjecting against an
infinite scheme, that we do not see the necessity or usefulness
of all its parts, and call this Reasoning  and, which st.ll farther heightens the absui'dity in the present case, parts which
we are not actively concerned in. For, it may be worth men.
tioning,
Lastly, That not only the reason of the thing, but the'rwhole
analogy of nature, should teach us, not to expect to have the
like information concerning the divine conduct, as concerning
our own duty.  God instructs us by experience, (for it is
not reason, but'experience, wbhich instructs us,) what good
or bad consequences will follow from our acting in such
and such manners; and by this he directs us how we are
to behave ourselves.  But, though we are suiifficiently instructed for the common purposes of life, yet it is but an
almost infinitely small part of natural prbvidence which we
are at all let into. The case is the same with reogard to
revelationii. The doctrine of.a mediatbr bet'veeii Gid anid
man, agaifist which it is objected, that the expediency of
some things in it is not understood, relates only to what was
done on God's part in the appointment, and on the Mediatir's




0HAi. V,3    A'MEDIATOR AND REDEEMEER.             195
in the execution of it. For what is required of us, in con.
sequence of this gracious dispensation, is another subject, in
which none can complain for want of information.  The con.
stitution of the world, and God's natural government over it,
is all mystery, as much as the Christian dispensation. Yet
under the first, he has given men all things pertaining to life;
and under the other, all things pertaining unto godliness. And
it may be added, that there is nothing hard to be accounted
for in any of the common precepts of Christianity; though,
if there were, surely a divine command is abundantly sufficient to lay us under the strongest obligations to obedience.
But the fact is, that the reasons of all the Christian precepts
are evident. Positive institutions are manifestly necessary to
keep up and propagate religion among, t mankind. And our
duty to Christ, the internal and external worship of him; this
part of the religion of the gospel manifestly arises out of what
he has done and suffered, his authority aiid dominion, and
the relation which he is revealed to stand in to us.




196          REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL:    [PART AIl
CHAPTER VI.
Of the want of Un-wersality in Revelation; and of the sup.
posed Deficiency iat the Proof of it.
IT has been thought by some persons, that if the evidence
of revelation appears doubtful, this itself turns into a positive
argument against it; because it cannot be supposed, that, if
it were true, it would be left to subsist upon doubtfull evidence
And the objection against revelation, from its not being -uni.
versal, is often insisted upon as of great weight.
Now, the weakness of these opinions may be shown, by
observing the suppositions on which they are founded, which
are really such as these; —that it cannot be thought God
would have bestowed any favour at all upon us, unless in the
degree which, we think, he might, and which, we imagine,
would be most to our particular advantage; and also, that it
cannot be thought he would bestow a favour upon any, unless
he bestowed the same upon all: suppositions which we find
contradicted, not by a few instances in God's natural government of the world, but by the general analogy of nature
together.
Persons who speak of the evidence of religion as doubtful,
and of this supposed doubtfulness as a positive argument
against it, should be put Upon considering, what that evidence
indeed is, which they act upon with regard to their temporal interests. For, it is not only extremely difficult, but, in
mabny cases, absolutely impossible, to balance pleasure and
pain, satisfaction and uneasiness, so as to be able to say, on
which side the overplus is. There are the like difficulties and
impossibilities, in making the due allowances for a change of
temper and taste, for satiety, disgusts, ill health; any of which
render men incapable of enjoying, after they have obtained,
what they most eagerly desired. Numberless, too, are the
accidents, besides that one of untimelv death,::which may
even probably disappoint the best concerte&  schemes: and




. RAlP VW.] SUPPOSEP -DEFICIENCYj IN ITS PROOF.    197
strong objections are often seen to lie against them, not to be
removed or answered, but which seem overbalanced by rea.
sons on the other side; so as that the certain difficulties and
dangers of the pursuit are, by every one, thought justly disregarded, upon account of there appearing greater advantages
in case of success, though there be but little probability of it.
Lastly, Everyone observes our liableness, if we be not upon
our guard, to be deceived by the falsehood of men; and the false
appearances of things; and, this danger must be greatly in.
creased, if there be a strong bias within, suppose from indulged
passion, to favour the deceit.. Hehce arises that great uncertainty and doubtfulness of proof, wherein our temporal interest really consists; what are the most probable means of
attaining it; and whether those means will eventually be
successful. And numberless instances there are, in the daily
course of life, in which all men think it reasonable to engage
in pursuits, though the probability is greatly against succeeding; and to make such provision for themselves, as it is supposable they may have occasion for, though the plain acknowledged probability is, that they never shall. Then those:who
think the objection against revelation, from its light not being
universal, to be of weight, should observe, that the Author of
nature,' in numberless instances, bestows that upon some,
which he does not upon others, who seem equally to stand in
need of it. Indeed, he appears to bestow all his gifts:with
the most promiscuous variety, among creatures of the same
species: health and strength, capacities of prudence and of
knowledge, means of improvement, riches, and all external advantages.: And as there are not any two men found of exactly
like shape an'd features, so, it is probable, there are not any two
of an exactly like constitution, temper, and tsituation, with regard to the goods and evils of life. Yet, notwithstanding
these uncertainties and varieties, God does exercise a natural
government over the world; and there is such a thing as a
prudent and imprudent institution of life, with regard to our
health and our affairs, under that his natural government.
As. neither the Jewish nor Christian revelation have been
universal, and as they have been afforded to a greater or less
part of the world, at different times, so, likewise, at different
times, both revelations have had different degrees of evidence.
The Jews who lived during; the succession of prophets, that
is, from Moses till after the Captivity, had higher evidence of
the truth-of their religion, than those had who lived in. the
interval between the last-mentioned period and the comingf;of




WEV A16TlN'; NUOT tlJl]PARi;^-.    t rsna: av
Christ. And the first Christians had higher evidence of the
miracles wrought in attestation of Christianity than what we
have now. They had also a strong presumptive proof of the
truth of it, perhaps of much greater force, in way of argument, than tnany may think, of which we have very little remaining; I mean, the presumptive proof of its truth from the
influence which it had upon the lives of the generality of its
professors. And we, or future ages, may possibly have a proof
of it, which they could not have, from the conformity between
the prophetic history, and the state of the world, and of Christianity. And farther: If we were to suppose the evidence,
which some have of religion, to amount to little more than
ieeing that it may be true, but that they remain in great doubts
and uncertainties about both its evidence and its nature, and
great perplexities concerning the rule of life; others to have
a full conviction of the truth of religion, with a distinct know
ledga of their duty; and others severally to have all the inter,
mediate degrees of religious light and evidence, which lie between these two. —If we put the case, that for the present it
was intended revelation should be no more than a small light,
in the midst of a world greatly overspread, notwithstanding it,
with ignorance and darkness; -that certain glimmerings of
this light should extend, and be directed, to remote distance.s
in such a manner as that those who really partook of it
should not discern from whence it originally came; that
some, in a nearer situation to it, should have its light ob.
soured, and, in different ways and degrees, intercepted; and
that others should be placed within its clearer influence, and
be much more enlivened, cheered, and dire'cted by it; but yet,
that even to these it should be no more than' a light shining
in a dark place:' all this would be perfectly uniform and of a
piece with the conduct of Providence, in the distribution of its
other blessings. If the fact of the case really were, that
some have received no light at all from the Scripture; as
many ages and countries in the heathen world: that others,
though they have, by means of it, had essential or natural
religion enforced upon their consciences, yet have never had
the genuine Scripture revelation, with its real evidence, pro.
posed to their consideration; and the ancient Persians and
modern Mahometans may possibly be instances of people in a
situation somewhat like to this': that others, though they
have had the Scripture laid before them as of divine revela,
tion, yet have had it with the system and evidence of Christiarity so interpolated, the system so corrupted, the evideno.




4,4,. VX     sr.'POexE    EIZNIEN.CY IN I$1?Po0r. 69
up blended with false miracles, as to leave the'indmin the
utmost doubtfulness and uncertainty about the whole; which
may be the state of some thoughtful men in most of those na.
tions who call themselves Christian: and, lastly, that others
have had Christianity offered to them in its genuine simplicity,
and with its proper evidence, as persons in countries and
churches of civil and of Christian liberty; but, however, that
even these persons-are left in great ignorance in many
respects, and haIve by no means light afforded them enough
to satisfy their curiosity, but only to regulate their life, to
teach them'their duty, and encourage them in the careful
discharge of it: I say, if we were to suppose this somewhat
of a general true account of the degrees of moral and relia
gious light and evidence, which were intended to be afforded
mankind, and of what has actually been and is their situation, in their moral and religious capacity, there would be
nothing in all this ignorance, doubtfulness, and uncertainty,
in all these varieties and supposed disadvantages of some in
comparison of others, respecting redigion, but may he paralleled
by manifest analogies in the iratural dispensations of Providence at present, and considering ourselves merely in our
temporal capacity.
Nor is there-any thing shocking in all this, or which would
seem to bear hard upon the moral administration in nature, if
we would really keep in mind, that every one should be
dealt equitably with.; instead of forgetting this, or explaining
it away, after it is acknowledged in words. All shadow of
injustice, and indeed all harsh appearances, in this various
economy of Providence, would be lost, if wev would keep in
mind, that every merciful allowance should be made, and no
more be required of any one, than what might have, been
equitably expected of him, from the circumstances in which
ne was placed; and not \vhat might have been expected, had
he been placed in other circumstances: a. e. in Scripture language, that every man shall be' accepted according to what
he had, not according to what he had not.'s This, howeveri,
doth not by any means imply, that all persons' condition here
is equally advantageous with respect to futurity.  And
Providence's designing to place some in greater darkness
with respect to religious. knowledge, is no more a reason why
they should not endeavoutr to get out of that darkness, and
others to bring them out of it, than why.ignorant alnl slow
C  VA_ _.




200          REVELATION NOT'UNIVERSAL:  L'A: T' IL
people, in matters of other knowledge, should not endeavour
to learn, or should not be instructed.
It is not unreasonable to suppose, that the same wise and
good principle, whatever it was, which disposed the Author of
nature to make different kinds and orders of creatures, disposed him also to place creatures of like kinds in different
situations; and that the same principle which disposed him to
make creatures of different moral capacities, disposed him also
to place creatures of like moral capacities in different religious situations; and even the same creatures, in different periods of their being. And the account or reason of this, is also
most probably the account why the constitution of things is
such, as that creatures of moral natures or capacities, for a
considerable part of that duration in. which they are living
agents, are not at all subjects of morality and religion; but
grow up to be so, and grow -up to be so more and more, gradually, from childhood to mature age.
What, in particular, is'the account or reason of these
things, we must be greatly in the dark, were it only that we
know so very little even of our own case.  Our present state
may possibly be the consequence of somewhat past, which
we are wholly ignorant of; as it has a reference to somewhat
to come, of which we know scarce any more' than is necessary for practice. A system or constitution, in its notion,
imaplies variety; and so complicated a one as this world, very
great variety. So that were revelation universal, yet from
men's different capacities of understanding, from the different
lengths of their lives, their different educations and other external circumstances, and from their difference of temper and
bodily constitution, their religious situations would be widely
different, and the disadvantage of some in comparison of
others, perhaps, altogether as much as at present. And the
true account, whatever it be, why mankind, or such a part of
mankind, are placed in this condition of ignorance, must be
supposed also the true account of our farther ignorance, in
not knowing the reasons why, or whence it is, that they are
placed in this condition.  But the following practical reflec.
tions may deserve the serious consideration of those persons,
who think the circumstances of mankind, or their own, in the
forementioned respects, a ground of complaint.
First, The evidence of religion not appearing obvious,
may constitute one particular part of some men's trial in the
religious sense; as it gives scope for a virtuous exercise, or
vicious neglect, of their understanding, in examining or not




aaP1. tn.] SUPPoE1OSD.FiCIc CY' IN lTS' PROOF.    2G1
examining into that evidence. There seems no possible rea.
son to be given, why we may not be in a state of moral pro.
bation, with regard to the exercise of our understanding upon
the subject of religion, as we are with regard to our behaviour
in common affairs. The former is as much a thing within
our power and choice as the latter. And I suppose it is to
be laid down for certain, that the same character, the same
inward principle, which, after a man is convinced of the
truth of religion, renders him obedient to the precepts of it,
would, were he not thus convinced, set him about an examination of it, upon its system and evidence being offered to his
thoughts; and that in the latter state, his examination would
be with an impartiality, seriousness, and solicitude, proportionable to what his obedience is in the former. And as inattention, negligence, want of all serious concern, about a matter
of such a nature and such importance, when offered to men's
consideration, is, before a distinct conviction of its truth, as
real immoral depravity and dissoluteness, as neglect of religious practice after such conviction; so, active solicitude
about it, and fair impartial consideration of its evidence before
such conviction, is as really an exercise of a morally right
temper, as is religious practice after. Thus, that religion is
not intuitively true, but a matter of deduction and inference;
that a conviction of its truth is not forced'upon every one,
but left to be, by some, collected with heedful attention to
premises; this as much constitutes religious probation, as
much affords sphere, scope, opportunity, for right and wrong
behaviour, as any thing whatever does. And their manner
of treating this subject, when laid before them, shows what'
is in their heart; hnd is an exertion of it.
Seconidly, It appears to be a thing as evident, though it is
not so much attended to, that if, upon consideration of religion,
the evidence -of it should seem to any persons doubtful in
the highest supposable degree, even this doubtful evidence
will, however, put them into a general state of'probation, in
the moral and religious sense. For, suppose a man to be really
in doubt, whether such a person had not done him the greatest favor; or, whether his whole temporal interest did not-depend upon that person; no one who had any sense of gratitude and of prudence, could possibly consider himself in the
same situation, with regard to such person, as if he had no
such doubt. In truth, it is as just to say, that certainty and
doubt are the same, as to say, the situations now mentioned
would leave a man as entirely at liberty, in point of gratitude




2            ^.tv3tasr( 1QT Vtr ZStr.4L:    ft4N'A-t
or prudence, as he would be, were he certain he had received
no favor from such person, or that he no way depended'upon
him. And thus, though the evidence of religion which is
afforded to some men, should be little more than that they are
given to see the system of Christianity, or religion in general,
to be supposable and credible, this ought in all reason to beget
a serious practical apprehension that it may be true. And even
this will afford matter of exercise, for religious suspense and
deliberation, for moral resolution and self-government; because
-the apprehension that religion may be true,'does as really
layr men under obligations, as a full conviction that it is
true. It gives occasion and motives to consider farther the
important subject.; to preserve attentively upon their minds
a general implicit sense that they may be under divine moral
government, an awful solicitude about religion, whether natural or revealed& Such apprehension ought to turn men's
eyes to every degree of new light which may be had, from
whatever side it comes, and induce them to refrain, in the
mean time, from all immoralities, and live in the conscientious
practice of every common virtue. Especially are they bound
to keep at the greatest distance from all dissolute profaneness
— for this the very nature of the case forbids; and to treat: ith highest reverence a matter upon which their own whole
interest and being, and the fate of nature depends. This be
h;lviour, and an active endeavour to maintain within them
selves this temper, is the business, the duty and the wisdom
of those persons, who complain of the doubtfulness of religion; is what they are under the most proper obligations to;
and such behaviour is an exertion of, and has a tendency to
improve in them, that character, which the practice of all the
several duties of religion, from a fuill conviction of its truth.
is an exertion of, and has a tendency to improve in others;
others, I say, towhom God has afforded suchconviction. Nay,
considering the infinite importance of religion, revealed as
well as natural, I think it may be said in general, that who.
ever will weigh the matter thoroughly, may see there is not
near so much difference as is commonly imagined, between
what ought in reason to be the rule of life, to those persons who
are fully convinced of its truth, and to those who have only
a serious doubting apprehension that it may be true. Their
hopes, and fears, and obligations, will be in various degrees 
but as the subject-matter of their hopes and fears is the soane,
so the subject-matter of their obligations, what they are boun I
to do and to refrain from, is not so very unlike.




Ct.'rt.J auatr'~6sOE b: ZrtIemktc''N iTs'PRooF.  20o:It is to be observed farther, that, fiom a character of undeel
standing, or a situation of in'fluence in the world, some persons have it in their power to do infinitely more harm or good,
by setting an example of profaneness, and avowed disregard
to all religion, or, on the contiary, of a serious, though perhaps
doubting, apprehension of its truth,. and of a reverend regard
to it under this d-oubtftulness, than they can do by acting well
or ill in all the common intercourses amongst mankind; ana
consequently th'ey are most highly accountable for a behaviotr, which, they may easily foresee, is of such importance,
and in-which there is most plainly a:right and a wrong; even
bidmittilg the evidence of religion to be as doubtful as is pretended.
The ground of these observations, and that which renders
them just and true, is, that doubting necessarily implies some.
degree of evidence for that of which we doubt. For no person would be in doubt concerning the truth of a number of
facts so and so circumstanced, which should accidentally come
into his thoughts, and of which he had no evidence at all.
And though in the case of an even chance, and where consequently we were in doubt, we should in common language say,
that we had no'evidence at all for either side; yet that situation of things which renders it an even chance and no more
that such an event will happen, renders this case equivalent
to all others, where there is such evidence on both sides of a
question,@  as leaves the mind in doubt concerning the truth.
Indeed, in all these cases. there is no more evidence on the
one side than on the other; but there is (what is equivalent
to) much more for either, than for the truth of a number of
facts which come into one's thoughts at random. And thus,
in all tiese cases, doubt as much presupposes evidence, lower
degrees of evidence, as belief presupposes higher, and certainty higher still. Any otie, who will.a little attend to the nature of evidence, will easily carry this observation on, and see,
that between no evidence at all, and that degree of it which
affords ground of doubt, there are as many intermediate de.
grees, as there are between that degree which is the ground
of doubt, and demonstration. And, though we have not faculties to distinguish these degrees of evidence with any sort
of exactness, yet, in proportion as they are discerned, they
ought to influence our practice. For. it is as real an imperfec-.
tion in -the moral character, not tobe influenced in practice by a




2Q4          REVELATION NOT. UNIVERAL:           PA..R
lower degree of evidence when discerned, as it is in the unfder.
standing, not to discern it. And as, in all subjects which rpen
consider, they discern the lower, as well, as higher degrees
of evidence, proportionably to their capacity of understanding;
so in practical subjects, they are influenced in practice by
the lower as well as higher degrees of it, proportionably to
their fairness and honesty. And as, in proportion to defects in the understanding, men are unapt to see lower degrees
of evidence, are in danger-of overlooking evidence when it is
not glaring, and are easily imposed upon in such cases; so,
in proportion to the corruption of the heart, they seem capable of satisfying themselves with having no regard in practice to evidence acknowledged real, if it be not overbearing.
From these things it must follow, that doubting concerning
religion implies such a degree of evidence for it, as, joined with
the consideration of its importance, unquestionably lays men
under the obligations before mentioned, to have a dutiful regard
to it in' all their behaviour.
Thirdly, The difficulties in which the evidence of religion is involved, which. some complain of, is no more a just
ground of complaint, than the external circumstances of temptation, which others are placed in; or than difficulties in the
practice of it, after a full conviction of its truth. Temptations
render our state a more improving state of discipline* than it
would be otherwise; as they give occasion for a more attentive exercise of the virtuous principle, which confirms and
strengthens it mo'e than an easier or less attentive exercise of
it could.'Now, speculative difficulties are, in this respect, of
the very same nature with these external temptations.  For
the evidence of religion not appearing obvious, is, to some
persons, a temptation to reject it, without any consideration
at all;'and therefore requires such an attentive exercise of
the virtuous principle, seriously to consider that evidence, as
there would be no occasion for, but for such temptation. And
the supposed doubtfulness of its evidence, after it has been in
some sort considered, affords opportunity to an unfair mind,
of explaining away, and deceitfully hiding from itself, that
evidence which it might see: and also for men's encouraging
themselves in vice, from hopes of impunity, though they do
clearly see thus much at least, that these hopes are uncertain:
in like manner, as the common temptations to  anily instances
of folly, which end in temporal infamy and ruin, is the ground
* Part. chap. 5.




rtWtn5~~t;w  saUpPs~~a~rQ82W { Y-Py- -is IT3fl- PhpOF.  fob
for,;hppeof not being detected, and of escaping with;impunity:
i. e. thgdoubtfulness of the truth beforehand, that such foolish
behaviour. will thus end in infamy and ruin.  On the contrary, supposed doubtfulness in the evidence of religion ca.ls
for a more careful and attentive exercise of the virtuous principle, in fairly yielding themselves up too the proper influence
of any real evidence, though doubtful; and in- practising conscientiously all virtue, though  under some.uncertainty
whether the government in the universe may not possibly
be such, as that vice niay escape with impunity.  And, in
general, temptation, meaning by this word the lesser allurements to wrong, and difficulties in the discharge of our duty,
as well as the greater ones  tefnptation, I say, as such, and
of every kind and degree, as it calls forth some virtuous
ffo.rts, additional to what would otherwise have been wanting,.
cannot, but be an additional discipline and improvement of
virtue, as well as probation of it, in the other senses -f that
word.   So that the very same account is to be given, why
the evidence of religion should be left in such a manner, as to
require, in some, an attentive solicitous, perhaps painful, ex.
ercise of their understanding about it; as why others should
be placed in such circumstances as that the practice of its
common duties, after a full conviction of the truth of it, should
require attention, solicitude, and pains: or, why appearing
doubtfulness'should be permitted to afford matter of temptation to some; as why external difficulties and alluxements
should be permitted to afford matter of temptation to others.
The same account also is tQ be given, why some should be
exerdcsed with temptations of both these kinds, as why'others
should be exercised with the latter in such very hi'gh -de'
grees,.-as some have been,:.particularly as the primi'ive
Christians were.
Nor does there appear any absurdity in supsosiag1 that the
speculative difficulties in which the evidence of religion is
involved, may mgl>k.yen the principal.-prt of some per.
sons' trial.' For, as the chief temptations of the generality
of the world, are, the ordinary motives to injustice or unrestrained pleasure; or to live in the neglect of religion froim
that frame of mind, which renders many persons almost without feelireg as to any thing distant, or which is not the object
of tleir senses; so there are other persons without this shallowness of temper, persons of a deeper sense as to what is iai




o208        -' VELATION NOT UNtEIValtAt:    t[AIT aI.
visible and future, who not only see, but have a general practical feeling that what is to come will be present, and that
things are not less real for their not being the object of sense;
and who, from their natural constitution of body and of temper,
and from their external condition, may have small temptations
to behave ill, small difficulty in behaving well, in the commonr
course of life. Now, when these latter persons have a distinct,
full conviction of the truth of religion, without any possible
doubts or difficulties, the practice of it is to them unavoidable,
unless they will do a constant violence to their own minds;
and religion is scarce any more a discipline to them, than it is
to creatures in a state of perfertion. Yet these persons may
possibly stand in need of moral discipline and exercise, in a
higher degree than they would have by such an easy practice
of religion.  Or it may be requisite, for reasons unknown to
us, that they should give some further manifestation what is
their moral character,'to the creation of God, than such a
practice of it would be. Thus, in the great variety of religious
situations in which men are placed, *what constitutes, what
chiefly and peculiarly constitutes the probation, in all senses,
of some persons, may be the difficulties in which the evidence
of religion is involved; and their principal and distinguished
trial may be, how they will behave under and with respect to
these difficulties. Circumstances in-men's situation in their
temporal capacity, analogous in good measure to this, re.
specting religion, are to be observed.  We find, some pesons
are placed in such a situation in the world, as that their chief
difficulty, with regard to conduct, is not the doing what is
prudent when it is known; for this, in numberless cases, is
as easy as the contrary: but to some, the principal exercise
is, recollection, and being upon their guard against deceits;
the deceits, suppose, of those a'bout them; against false appearances of reason and prudence. To persons in some situations, the principal exercise, with respect to conduct, is attention, in order to inform themselves what is proper, what is
really the reasonable and prudent part to act.
But as I have hitherto gone upon supposition, that men's
dissatisfaction with the evidence of religion, is not owing to
their neglccts or prejudices; it must be added, on the other
hand, in all common reason, and as what the truth of tht
case plainly requires should be added, that such dissatisfac




CHAP. vI.] SUPPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF.'20't
tior. possibly may be owing to those, possibly may be' men's
own fault. For,
If there are any persons, who never set themselves heartily,
and in earnest, to be informed in religion, if there are any,
who secretly wish it may not prove true, and are less attentive to evidence than to difficulties, and more to objections
than to what is said in answer to them; these persons will
scarce be thought in a likely way of seeing the evidence of
religion, though it were most certainly true, and capable of
being ever so fully proved. If any accustom themselves to
consider this subject usually in the way of mirth and sport 
if they attend to forms and representations, and inadequate
manners of expression, instead of the real things intended by
them, (for signs often can be no more than inadequately expressive of the things signified;) or if they substitute human
errors in the room of divine truth; why may not all, or any
of these thingIs, hinder some men from seeing that evidence
which really is seen by others; as a like turn of mind, with
respect to matters of common speculation, and practice, does,
we find by experience, hinder them from attaining that know.
ledge and right understanding, in matters of common speculation and practice, which more fair and attentive minds attain to? And the effect will be the same, whether'their neglect of seriously considering the evidence of religion, and their
indirect behaviour with regard to it, proceed from mere carelessness, or from the grosser vices; or whether it be owing
to this, that forms, and figurative manners of expression, as
well as. errors, administer occasions of ridicule, when the
things intended, and the truth itself, would not. Men may
indulge a ludicrous turn so far, as to lose all sense of conduct
and prudence in worldly affairs, and even, as it seems, to
impair their faculty of reason.  And in general, levity, carelessness, passion, and prejudice, do hinder us from being
rightly informed, with respect to common things; and they
may, in like manner, and-perhaps in some farther providential
manner, with respect to moral and religious subjects; may
hinder evidence from being laid before us, and from being seen;
when. it is.  The Scriptures does declare,'that every one
shall not understand.' And it makes no difference by what
* Dan. xii. 10. See also Isa. xxix. 13, 14. Matt. vi. 23, and xi. 25,
and xxiii. 11, 12. John iii. 9. John v. 44. 1 Cor. ii. 14, and 2 Cor. iv.
4. 2 Tim. iii. 13; and that affectionate, as well as authoritative admo..
nition, so verymany times inculcated,'He-that hath ears to hear, let
him hear.' Grotius saw so strongly the thing intended in' these'and




208     "     REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL: [" ART!i.'providential conduct this comes to pass; whether the evi,
dence of Christianity was, originally and with design, put
and left so, as that those who are desirous of evading moral
obligations, should not see it, and that honest-minded persons
should; or whether it comes to pass by any other means.
Farther: The general proof of natural religion and of Chri
tianity, does, I think, lie level to -common men; even those,
~the greatest part of whose time, from childhood to old age, is
taken up with providing, for themselves and their- families,'the
common conveniences, perhaps necessaries of lief,  those I
mean, of this rank, who ever think at all of asking ~after
proof, or attending to it.  Common mef, were they'as'much
in earnest about religion as about their temporal affairs, a:re
capable of being convinced upon real evidence, that there is a
Goa who governs the world; and they feel'themselves:to
be of-a mos'al.nature; and- accountable creatures. And as
Christianity entirely falls in with this their natural sense of
things; so they are capable, not only of being persuaded, but
of being made to see, that there is evidence of miracles
wrought in attestation of it, and many appearing completions
of prophecy.  But though this proof is real anid conclusive,
yet it is liable to objections, and may be run up into difficulties; which, however, persons who are capable, not only of
talking of, but of really seeing, are capable also of seeing
through; i. e. not of clearing up and answering them, s6'as
to satisfy their curiosity, for of such knowledge we are not
capablew with respect to any one thing in nature; but capable
of seeing that the proof is not lost in these difficulties, or d.
stroyed bv these objections, But then a thorough exai'siation into religion, with regard to these objections, which can:
not be the business of every man, is a matter of pretty large
compass, and from the nature of it, requires some knowledge.
as well as time and attention, to see how the evidence comes
out, upon balancing one thing with another, and what, upon
the whole, is the amount of it.- Now, if persons who have
picked up these objections firom others, and take for granted
they are of weight, upon the word of those from whom they
received them, or, by often retailing of them, come to see, or
fancy they see, them to be of weight, will not prepare therm.
selves for such an examination, with a competent degree of
other passages of Scripture of the like sense, as to say, thiat the prdopi
given us of Christianity was less than it might have been, for this very
-arrtue: Ut ita setoE Evangelii tan'quam lapis esset Lydie itl qukt ift
eSatugMbilia eli'artur. De YetP R. C. kL2. towarda the ett;




MHAP. VI.] SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF.         209)
knowledge; or will not give that time and attention to the
subject, which, from the nature of it, is necessary for attaining
such information: in this: case, they must remain in doubtfulness, ignorance, or error; in the same way as they must
with regard to common sciences, and matters of common life,
if they neglect the necessary means of being informed in
them.
But still, perhaps, it will be objected, that if a prince or
common master were to send directions to a servant, he would
take care, that they should always bear the certain marks
who they came from, and that their sense should be always
plain; so as that there should be no possible doubt, if hecould help it, concerning the authority or meaning of them.
Now, the proper answer to all this kind of objections is, that,
wherever the fallacy lies, it is even certain -we cannot argue
thus with respect to Him who is the governor of the world;
and particularly, that he does not afford us such information,
with repect to our temporal affairs and interests, as experience
abundantly shows. However, there is a full answer to this
objection, from the very nature of religion. For,.the reason
why a prince would give his directions in this plain manner,
is, that he absolutely desires such an external action should
be done, without concerning himself with the motive or principle upon which it is done: i. e. he regards only the external
event, or the thing's being done, and not at all, properly
speaking, the doing of it, or the action. Whereas the whole
of morality and religion consisting merely in action- itself,
there is no sort of parallel between the causes. But if the
prince be supposed to regard only the action; i. e. only to
desire to exercise, or in any sense prove, the understanding
or loyalty of a servant, he would not always give his orders
in such a plain manner.  It may be proper to add, that the
will of God, respecting morality and religion, may be considered, either as absolute, or as only conditional. If it be absolute, it can only be thus, that we should act virtuously in
such given circumstances; not that we should be brought
to act so, by his changing of our circumstances.  And if
God's will be thus absolute, then it is in our power, in the
highest and strictest sense, to do or to contradict his will;
which is a most'weighty consideration. Or his will may be
considered only as conditional,-that if we act so and so, we
shall be rewarded; if otherwise, punished: of which conditional will of the Author of nature, the whole constitution of
it affords most certain instances.




210          REVELATION NOT UNIVXERSAL        [PART I.,
Upon the whole: That we are in a state of religion neces.
sarily imaplies, that we are in a state of probation; and the
credibility of our being at all in such a state being admitted,
there seems no peculiar difficulty in supposing our probation
to be, just as it is, in those respects which are above objected
against. T7here seems no pretence from the reason of the
lhing to say7 that the trial cannot equitably be any thing,
but whether persons will act suitably to certain infomation,
or such as admits no room for doubt; so as that there can be no
danger of miscarriage, but either from their not attending to
what they certainly know, or from overbearing passion hurryr
ing them on to act contrary to it. For, since ignorance and
doubt afford scope for probation in all senses, as really as intuitive conviction or certainty; and since the two foImer are
to be put to the same account as difficulties in practice; men's
moral probation inay also be, whether,they will take due care
to inform themselves by inmpartial consideration, and afterwards
whether they will act as the case requires, upon the evidence
which they have, however doubtful. And this, we. find by
experience, is frequently our probation, in our temporal capacity.  For the information which we want, with regard to
our worldly interests, is by no means always given us- of
course, without any care of our own. And we are greatly
liable to, self-deceit from inward secret prejudices, and also to
the deceit of others.  So that to be able to j.udge what is the
prudent part, often requires much and dificuit consideration.
Then, after we have judged the very best we can, the evidence
upon which we mu.t act, if we live and act at all, is perpetually
doubtful to a very high degree. And the constitution and
course of the world in fact-is such, as that want of impartial
consideration what we have to do, and: venturing upon extra:
vagant courses. beeause it ist  doubtful what will be the conse.
quence,. are often naturally, i. e. providentially, altogether as
fatal, as misconduct occasioned by heedless inattention to
what we certainly know, or disregarding it from overbearing
passion.
Several of the observations- here made may well seem
strange, perhaps unintelligibly, to many good men. But if
the persons for whose sake they are made, think so; persons
who object as above, and throw off all regard to religion mun
der pretence of want of evidence; I desire them to consider
tagain whether their thinking so, be owing to any thing uniur




chAP. vt.] SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN. ITS PROOP.      211
telligible in these observations, or to their own not having such
a sense of religion and serious solicitude about it, as even
their state of scepticism does in all reason require? It ought
to be forced upon the reflection of these persons that our nature and condition necessarily require us, in the daily course
of life, to act upon evidence much lower than what is commonly called probable; to guari, not only against what we
fully believe will, but also against what we think it supposable may, happen; and to engage in pursuits when the probability is greatly against success, if it be credible that possibly
are miay succeed in them.




t21'         O    t Ptt  TAXBTICULAg    i'twxe  -. tARt Irt
CHAPTER VIl,
Of the particular Evidence for Christiartity.
THE presumptions against revelation, and objections against
the general scheme of Christianity, and particular things re.
lating to it, being removedi there remains to be considered,
what positive evidence we have for the truth of it i chiefly in
order to see, what the analogy of nattire suggests with regard
to that evidence, and the objections against it; or to see what
is, and is allowed to be, the plain natural rule of judgment
and of action, in our temporal concerns, in cases where we'
have the same kind of evidence, and the same kind of objec
tuons against it, that we have in the case before us. Now, in
the evidence of Christianity,-there seems to be several things
of great weight, not reducible to the head, either of miracles, or
the completion of prorlhecyj in the common acceptation of the
words.  But these twd are its direct and- fundamental proofs;
and those other things, however considerable they are, yet
ought never to be urged apart from its direct proofs, but always
to be joined with them. - Thus the evidence of- Christianity
will be a long series of things, reaching, as it seems, from the
beginning of the world to.hlie, resent time, of great variety
and compass, taking in both the direct, and also the collateral
Prnoofs and making up, all of them  together, one argumenti
the conviction arising from which kind of proof may be compared to what they call the effect iii architecture or other
works of art; a result from a great number of things so and so
disposed, and taken into one view. I shall therefore, first,
make some observations relating to miracles,. and the appearing completions of prophecy; and consider what analogy suggests, in answer to the objectioiis br6ught agaiist this evidence. And, secondly, I shall eadeavour to give some account of the general argiument now mentioned, consisting
both of the direct and collateral evidence, considered as making




CRAP. PVI.)        MR tCHRISTIANITY.               213s
tp one argument; this being the kind of proof upon which we
determine most questions of difficulty concerning common facts,
alleged to have happened, or seeming likely to happen; especially questions relating to conduct.
First, I shall make some observations upon the direct proof
of Christianity from miracles and prophecy, and upon the ob.
jections alleged against it.
I. Now, the following observations, relating to the histoncal evidence of miracles wrought in attestation of Christia.nity, appear to be of great weight.
1. The Old Testament affords us the same historical evidence of the miracles of Moses and of the prophets, as of the
common civil history of Moses and the kings of Israel; or, as
of the affairs of the Jewish nation. And the Gospels and the
bcts afford us the same historical evidence of the miracles of
Christ and the Apostles, as of the common matters related in
them. This, indeed: could not have been affirmed by any reasonable man, if the authors of. these books, like many other
historians, had appeared to-make an entertaining manner of
writing their aim; though they had interspersed miracles in
their works, at proper distances, and upon proper occasions.
These might have animnated a dull relation, amused the
reader, and engaged his attention. And the same. account
would naturally have been given of them, as of the speeches
and descriptions of such auth~ors; the same account, in a
manner, as is to be given, why the poets make use of wonders and prodigies. But the facts, both miraculous and
natural, in Scripture, are related in -plain unadorned narratives; and both of them appear, in all respects, to stand
upon the same foot of historical evidence.  Farther: Some
parts of Scripture, containing an account of miracles' fully
sufficient to prove the truth of Christianity, are quoted as
genuine, from the age in which they are said to be written,
down to the present: and no other parts of them, material
in the present question, are omitted to be quoted, in such manner as to afford any sort of proof of their not being.genuine.
And, as common history, when called in question in any instance, may often be greatly confirmed by contemporary or
subsequent events more known and acknowledged; and as
the common Scripture history, like many others, is thus confirmed; so likewise is the miraculous history of it, not only
in particular instances, but in general. For, the establishment of the Jewish and Christian religions, which were eyen ts
obntemporary with -the miracles related -to be wrougr'' in tg



21a         OF TME  PARTICULAR EVDEMNCZ    [PART AI
testation of both, or subsequent to them, these events are just
what we should have expected, upon supposition such mira.
cles were really wrought to attest the truth of those religions.
These mira;les are a satisfictory account of those events;
of which no other satisfactory account can be given, nor any
account at all, but' what is imaginary merely and invented.
It is to be added, that the most obvious, the most easy and
direct account of this history, how it came' to be- written and
to be received in the world, as a true history, is, that it really
is so; nor can any other account of it be easy and direct.
Now, though an account, not at all obvious, but very far.
fetched and indirect, may inmdeet be, aM often is, the true account of a matter; yet, it cannot be admitted on the authority
of its being asserted. Mere guess, supposition, and possibility,
when opposed to historical evidence prove, nothing, but that
historical evidence is not demanstratrive
Now, the just comsequence from. all this, I think, is, that
the Scripture history, in general, is to be admitted as an auxthentic genuine history, till! somewhat positive be alleged'
sufficient to invalidate it.  But no man will deny the conse
quence to be, that it cannot be rejected, or thrown by as of
no. authority, till it can be proved to be of none; even though
the evidence now mentioned for its authority were doubtful.
This evidence may be confrnted by historical evidence on
the other side, if there be any; or general incredibility in the
things. related, or inconsistence in the general turn of the history, would prove it to' be of' no authority.  But since, upon
the face of the matter,. upon a first and general viewv the appearance is, that it is an authentic history, it cannot be determinedI to be fictitious without some pr.oof that it is so, And
the following observations, in support of these and coincident
with them, wFll greatly confirm the historical evidence for the
truth of Christianity.
2. The Epistles of St. Paur, from the nature of' epistolary
writing, and moreover, from  several of them being written,
not to particular persons, but to churches, carry in them  evidences of their being' genuine, beyond what can be, in a mere
historical narrative, left to the worfd at large.  This evidence,
joined with that which they have in common with the rest of
the New Testament, seems not to leave so much as any par.
ticular pretence for denying their genuinerress, considered as
an ordinary matter of fact, or of criticism: I say, particular
pretence for denying it; because any single fact, of such a
kind and such antiquity, may have general doubts raised con,




cHAP. VII.]        FOR CHRIStIA*tiTT.                215
eeming it, from the very nature of human affairs and human
testimony.  There is also to be mentioned, a distinct and particular evidence of the genuineness of the epistle chiefly res
ferred to here, the first to the Corinthians; horm the manner
in which it is quoted by Clemens Romants, in an epistle of
his own to that church. - Now, these epistles afford a proof
of Christianity, detached from all others, which is, I think, a
thing of weight; and also a proof of a nature and kind pec Ildiar to itself. For,
In them the author declares that he received the gospel in
general, and the institution of the communion in particular,
not firom the rest of the Apostles, or jointly together with
them, but alone from Christ himself; whom he declares, likewise conformably to the history in the Acts, that he saw after
his ascension.t  So that the testimony of St! Paul is to be
considered, as detached from that of the rest of the Apostles.
And he declares farther, that he was endued with a power
of working miracles, as what was publicly known to those
very people; speaks of frequent and great variety of miracuIous gifts, as then subsisting in those very churches to which
he was writing; which he was reproving for several irregu —
larities; and where he had personal opposers: he mentions
these gifts incidentally, in the most easy manner, and without
effort; by way of repiroof to those who had them, for their
indecenit use of them; and by way of depreciating them, in
comparison of moral virtues.  In sho't, he speaks to these
churches of these miraculous powers, in the manner any one
would speak to another of a thing, which was as familiar,
and as much known in common to them.oth, as any thing
at the world.t  And this, as has been.oserved by several
persons, is surely a very considerable thing.
3. It is an acknowledged historical fact, that Christianity
offered itself to the world-and demanded to be received, upon
the allegation,i. e. as unibelievers would speak, upon the pretence of nriiracles, publiciy wrought to attest the truth of it, in
such ani age.; and that it was actually received by great
nuinbeis in that very age, apd upon the professed belief of the
reality of these miracles. And CIhrisianity, including the dispensation of the Old Testament, seems ditinguished by this
from all other religions.  I mean, that this does not- appear' Clem. orom. Ep. i. c. 47.
f Gal. if I Cor. xi. 23, &c. 1 Cor. xv, 8.
I Rom. xv. 19. 1 Cor. xii. 8, 9, 10-28, &c. and chap. xiii. 1, 2, 9
and the whole xivth chap. 2 Cer. xii, 12, 13. Gal. iii. 2, 5.




21          or O  THE PARTICULPAR EVIDNCIE   [tPAiT;  L
to be the case with regard to any other: for surely it will not
be supposed to lie upon any person, to prove, by positive historical evidence, that it was not. It does in no sort appear
that Mahometanism Winas first received in the world upon the
foot of supposed miracles;/  i. e. public ones: for, as revelation
is itself miraculous, all pretence to it must necessarily imply
some pretence of miracles. And it is a known fact, that it
was immediately, at the very first, propagated by other
means.  And as particular institutions, whether in paganism
or popery, said to be confirmed by miracles after those institutions had obtained, are not to the purpose; so, were there
what might be called historical proof; that any of them were
introduced by a supposed divine comm.al.l, believed to be attested by miracles, these would not be in any wise parallel.
For single things of this sort are easy to be accounted for.
after parties are formed, and have power in their hands; and
the leaders of them are in veneration with the multitude:
and political interests are blended with religious claims, and
religious distinctions.  But before any thing of this kind, for
a few persons, and those of the lowest rank, all at once to
bring over such great numbers to a new religion, and get it
to be received upon the particular evidence of miracles; this
is quite another thing.' And I think it will be allowed by
any fair adversary, that the fact now mentioned, taking in
all the circumstances of it, is peculiar to the Christian religion.  However, the fact itself is allowed, that Christianity
obtained, i. e. was professed to be received in the world, upon
the belief of miracles, immediately in the age in which it is
said those miracles were wrought: or that this is what its
first converts would have alleged, as the reason for their embracing it. Now, certainly it is not to be supposed, that such
numbers of men, in the most distant parts of the world, should
forsake the religion of their country, in which they had been
educated; separate themselves from their friends, particularly
in their festival shows and solemnities, to which the common
people are so greatly addicted, and which were of a nature
to engage them  much more than any thing of that sort
- amongst us; and embrace a religion which could not but ex'
pose them to many inconveniences, and indeed must have
been a giving up the world in a great degree, even from the
very first, anti before the empire engaged in form against
them: it cannot be supposed, that such numbers should
* See the Koran, chap. xiii. and cha




CHAP. Vii.]        FOR CHRISTIANITY.                21i
make so great, and, to say the least, so inconvenient a- cihange
in'their whole institution of life, unless they were really cintinced of the truth of those miracles, upon the knowledge or
belief of which they professed to make it. And it will, I sup.
pose, readily be acknowledged, that the generality of the
first converts to Christianity must have believed them; that
as, by  becomihg Christians, they dbclared to the world they
were satisfied of the truth of those miracles, so this declaration was to be credited. And this their testimony;is the
same kind of evidence for those miracles, as if they had put it
in writing, and these writings had Come down tO us.  And it
is real evidence, because it is of facts, which they had capacity and full opportunity to inform themselves of. It is also
distinct from the direct or express historical evidence, though
it is of the same kind; and it would be allowed to be distinct
in all cases.  For, were a fact expressly related by one or
more ancient historians, and disputed in after ages; that this
fact is acknowledged to have been believed, by great numbers
of the age inl which the historian says it was done, would be
allowed an additional proof of such fact, quite 7distinct fom
the express testimony of the historian.  The credulity of
ms':Lnd is acknowledged, and the suspicions of mankind.Aght to be acknowledged too; and their backwardness' even
to believe, and greater still to practise, what makes against
their interest.  And it must particularly be remembered, that
education, and prejudice, and authority, were against ChriStianity, in the age I am speaking of. So that the immediate
conversion of such numbers, is a real presumption of somewhat more than human.in this matter: I say presumption,
for it is alleged as a proof, alone and by itself. Nor need any
one of the things mentioned in this chapter be considered as a
proof by. itself; and yet all of them together may be one of
the strongest.
Upon the whole, as there is large historical evidence, both
direct and circumstantial, of miracles wrought in attestation of
Christianity, collected by those who have writ upon the subject; it lies upon unbelievers to show why this evidence is not
to be credited. This way of speaking is, I think, just, and
what persons who write in defence of religion naturally fall
into.  Yet, in a matter of such unspeakable importance, the
proper q.uestion is, not whom it lies upon, according to the
rules of argument, to maintain or confute objections; but,
whether there really are any against this evidence, sufficient,
10




218         or THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE    [PART it.
in reason, to destroy the credit of it.? However, unbelievers
seem to take upon them the part of showing that there are.
They allege, that numberless enthusiastic people, in different
ages and countries, expose themselves to the same difficulties
which the primitive Christians did; and are ready to give up
their lives, for the most idle follies imaginable.  But it is not
very clear, to what purpose this objection is brought; for
every one, surely, in every case, must distinguish between
opinions and facts. And though testimony is no proof of enthusiastic opinions, or any opinions at'all; yet, it is allowed, in
all other cases to be a proof of facts.  And a person's laying
-iown his life in attestation of facts or of opinions, is the
strongest proof of his believing them: And if the apostles
and their contemporaries did, believe the facts, in attestation of'which they exposed themselves to sufferings and death this
their belief or rather knowledge, must be a proof of those facts;
for they.were such as come under the observation of their
senses.  And though it. is nrot of equal weight, yet it is of
weight, that the nartyris of the next age, notwithstanding
they were not eye-witnesses of those facts, as were the
anostles and their contemporaries, had, however, full opporrunity to inform themselves, whether they were true c  not,
and give equal proof of their believing them to be true.
But enthusiasm, it is said, greatly weakens the evidence l6
testimony even for facts, in matters relating to religion; some
seem to think, it totally and absolutely destroys the evidence of
testimonyupon the subject.. And, indeed,.the powers of enthusiasm, and of diseases, too, which operate in a like manner, are
very wonderful, in particular instances. But if great numbers
of men not appearing in anS peculiar degree weak, nor under
any peculiar suspicion of negligence, affirm that they saw and
heard such things plainly with their eyes and their ears, and
are admitted to be in earnest; sucli testimony is evidence of
the strongest kind we can have for any nmatter of fact.  Yet,
possibly it may be overcome, strong as it is, by incredibility in
the things thus attested, or by contrary testimony.  And in
an instance where one. thought it was so overcome, it might
be Just to consider, hdw far such evidence could be accounted
for by enthusiasm; for it seems as if no other imaginable ac.
count were to be given of it.  But till such incredibility b6
shown, or contrary testimony produced, it cannot sirely bs
expected, that so far-fetched, so indirect and wonderful an account of such testimony, as- that of enthusiasm must be; an
account so strange,Ithat the generality Of mankind can sc.rw




claP. vun.J        FOR CHRISTIANITY.                 219
be made to understand what is meant by it  it eannot, I say,
be expected, that such account will be admitted of such evidence, when there is this direct, easy, and obvious account:f it, that pedople really saw and heard a thing not incredible
which they affirm sincerely, and with. full assurance, they did
see and hear. Granting,\hen, that enthusiasm is not (strictly
speaking) an absurd, but a possible account of such testi.
mony, it is manifest that the very mention of it goes upon the
previous supposition, that the things so attested are incredible; and therefo6re, need not be considered, till they are shown
to be so. Much less need it be considered, after the contrary
has been proved. And I think it has been proved, to full.
satisfaction, that there is no incredibility in a revelation, in
general, or in such a one as the Christian in particular.
However, as religion is supposed peculiarly liable to enthusiasm, it may just be observed, that prejudices almost without
number and without name', romance, affectation, humour, a
desire to engage attention or to surprise, the party-spirit, custom, little competitions, unaccountable likings and dislikings;
these influence men strongly in common matters. And as
these prejudices are often scarce known or reflected upon by
the persons themselves who are influenced by them, they are
to be considered as influences of a like kind to enthusiasm.
Yet human testimony in common matters is naturally and
justly believed notwithstanding.
It is intimated farther, in a more refined way of observation, that though it should be proved, that the apostles and
first Christians could not, in some respects, be deceived themselves, and, in other respects, cannot be thought to have intended to impose upon the ivorid, yet, it will not follow, that
their general testimony is to be believed, though truly handed
down to us; because they might still in part, i. e. in other
respects, be deceived theinselves, and in part also designedly.
impose upon others; wxhich, it is added, is a thing very credible, from that mixtiure of real enthusiasm, and real knavery,
to be met with in the same characters. And, I must confess,
I think the matte/r of fact contained in this observation upon
mankind, is not to be denied; and that somewhat very much
akin to it, is often supposed irn Scripture as a very common
case, and most severely reproved.  But it were to have been
expected, that persons capable of applyiiig this observation as
applied in the objection, might also ffeqtieitly have met with
the like mixed character, in instanced'where religion was:
quite out of the. case.  The thing plainly is, that mankind are




220.         F THE' PARTICULAR EVIDENCE    LPART II.
- aturally endued with reason, or a capacity of distinguishing
between truth and falsehood; and as naturally they'are en.
dued with veracity, or a regard to truth in what they'say:
but from many occasions, they are liable to be prejudiced,.and biassed, and deceived themselves, and capable of intend.
ing to deceive others, in every different degree; insomuch
that, as we are all liable to be deceived by prejudice, so like.
-wise it seems to be not an uncommon things for'persons, who,
from their regard to. truth, would not invent a lie entirely
without -any foundation at all, to propagate it with heighten.
ing circumstances) aftei it is once invented and'set' agoing.'And others, though they would not propagate a lie, yet,
which it a lower degree of falsehood, will let it pass without
contradiction.  But, notwithstanding all this, human testimony remains still' a natural- ground of assent; and this
assent, a natural principle of action.
-It is objected farther', that however it has happened, the
fact is, that mankind have, in different ages, been strangely
deluded with pretences to miracles and wonders. But it is
by no means to be admitted, that they have been oftener, o0
are at all more liable to be deceived by these yretences, than
by others. 
It is added, that there is a very considerable degree of his.
torical evidence for miracles, which are on all hands, acknowledged to be fabulous. But suppose there were even the like
-historical evidence for these, to what there is for those alleged
in proof of Christianity, which yet is in no wise allowed; but
suppose this; the consequence would not be, the evidence of
the latter is not to be admitted.'Nor is there a man in the
world who, in common cases, would conclude thus. For
what would such a conclusion really amount to but this, that
evidence, confuted by contrary evidence, or any way overbalanced, destroys the credibility of other evidence, neither
confuted nor overbalanced q To argue, that because there is,
if there were, like evidence from testimony, for miracles acknowledged false, as for those in attestation'of Christianity,
therefore the evidence in the latter case is not to be credited;
this is the same as to argue, that if two men of equally good
reputation had given evidence in different cases no way con.
nected, and one of them had been convicted of perjury, this
confuted the testimony of the other.
Upon the whole, then, the general observation that human
creatures are so liable to be deceived, from enthusiasm in religion, and principles equivalent to enthusiasm in common




W;iP.:vi.]:FOR. CtRiStIAMITt.               -221
matters, and in both from negligence; and that they are so
capable:of dishonestly endeavouring to deceive others; this
does ind'eed.weaken the evidence' of testimony in all cases,
but does not destroy it in any.  And these things will appear,
to different men, to weaken the evidence of testimony, in
different degrees; in degrees proportionable to the observations'they have made, or the notions they have any way
taken up, cdicerning the weakness, and negligence, and dishonesty: of mankind; or concerning the powers of enthusi.
asm, anid prejudices equivalent to it., But it seems to me,
that people do not know what they say, who affirm these
things to destroy the evidence from  testimony, which we:have of the truth of Christianity. Nothing can destroy the
evidence of testimony in any case, but a proof or probability,:that persons are not competent judges of the facts to which
they give testimony; or that they are actually under some
indirect influence in giving it, in such particular case.  Till
this be made out, the natural laws of human actions require,:that testirnony be admitted.  It can never- be sufficient to'overthrtow direct historical evidence, indolently to say, that
-there/ are so many principles, from whence men are liable to
be deceived:themselves and disposed to deceive others, especially in matters of religion, that one knows not what to beleve.  Andit is surprising persons can help reflecting, that'this very manner of speaking supposes, they are not satisfied
that'there is:nothing in the evidence, of which they speak
thus; or that they can avoid observing, if they do matke this
reflectioni that it is, on such a subject, a very material one.*
And over- against all these objections, is to be set the im
porta-nce of Christianity, as what must have engaged the attention of its first:converts, so as to have rendered them less
liable to be deceived from carelessness, than they would in
cominiofi matters; and likewise the strong obligations to ve.
tacity, which their religion laid them under: so that the first
and most ob ious presumption is, that they could'not be deveived'themselves, ni6r would deceive others.  And this, presutmption, in this degree, is peculiar to the testimony we have
been conhsidering.
I: argii ment, assertions ate tnothing in themselves, and
liave-   n air of positiveness, which'sometimes is not very
easy"; yet they are necessary, and necessary to be repeated,
ik' oiMder to connect a discourse, and distinctly to lay before the
dee      M.,,.i. B.




22a          OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE.- PART:It
view of the reader what is proposed to be proved, and what is
left as proved.  Now, the conclusion from the foregoing obser.
vations is, I think, beyond all doubt, this: that unbelievers
must be forced to admit the external evidence for Christianity,
i. e. the proof of miracles wrought to attest it, to be'of real
weight and very considerable; though they cannot allow it to
be sufficient to convince them of the reality of those miracles.
And as they must, in all reason, admit- this, so it seems to me,
that upon consideration they would, in fact, admit it; those
of them, I mean, who know any thing at all of the -matter:
in like manner as persons, in many cases, own, they see
strong evidence from testimony, for the truth of things, which
yet they cannot be convinced are true; cases, suppose, where
there is contrary testimony, or things which they think,
whether with or without reason, to be incredible. But there
is no testimony contrary to that which we, have been considering; and it has been fully proved, that there:iS no incredibility in Christianity in general, or in any part of it.
II. As to the evidence for Christianity firom prophecy, I!
shall only make some' few general observations, which aresuggested.by the analogy of nature; i. e. by the acknowledged natural rules of judging in common matters, concerning evidence of a like kind to this from prophecy.
i. The obscurity or unintelligibleness of one part of a
prophecy, does not, in any degree, invalidate the proof' of
foresight, arising from the appearing completion of those other
parts which are understood.' For the case is evidently the
same, as if those parts, which are not understood, were lost,
or. not written at all, or written in an unknown tongue.
Whether this observation be commonly attended to or not,
it is so: evident, that one can scarce bring one's self to set. down
an instance in common matters, to exemplify it. However,
snppose a writing, partly in cyper; and partly in plain words
at length, and that,; in -the part one understood, there appeared
mention of several known facts; it would never come into
any man's thoughts to imagine, that if he understood the
whole, perhaps he might find, that those facts were not, in
reality, known by the writer. Indeed, both in this example,
and the thing intended to be exemplified by it, our not under.
standing the whole, (the whole, suppose, of a sentence or a
paragraph,) might sometimes occasion a doubt, whether one
inderstood the literal meaning of such a part; but this comes
under another consideration.
E.or-the same reason: though a man should be: incapable.




CbAP. vIIn.j]      o  CHRISTIANITY.                223
for want of learning, or opportunities of inquiry, or from not
having turned his studies this way, even so much as to judge
whether particular prophecies have been throughout completely fulfilled; yet he may see, in general, that they have
been fulfilled, to such a degree, -as, upon very good ground,to- be convinced of foresight more than human in such prophecies, and of such events being intended -by them. For
the same reason also, though, by means of the deiiciencies
in civil history, and the different accounts of historians, the
most learned should notbe able to make'out to satisfaction,
that such parts of the prophetic history have been minutely
and throughout fulfilled; yet a very strong proof of foresight
may arise from that general: completion of them which is
made out; as much proof of foresight, perhaps, as the Giver
of prophecy intended should ever be afforded by such parts of
prophecy.
2. A long series of prophecy being applicable to such and
such events, is itself a proof, that it was: intended of them;
as the rules, by which we naturally judge and determine, in
common cases parallel to this, will show, This observation I
make in answer to the common objection against the application of the prophecies, that, considering each of them-distinctly
by itself, it does not at all appear, that they were intended of
those particular events to which they are applied by Christians; and, therefore, it is to be supposed, that, if they meant
any thing, they were intended of other events unknown to us,
and not of these at all..
Now, there are two kinds of writing, which bear a great
resomblance tp prophecy, wi n respect to the matter before
us; the mythological and the satirical, where the satire is, to
a certain degree, concealed. And a man might be assured,
that he understood what an author intended by a fable or
parable, related without any application or moral, merely
from seeing it to be easily -capable of such application, and
that such a moral might naturally be deduced- from it. And
he might be fully assured, that such persons and events were
intended in a satirical writing, merely firom its being applicable to them. And, agreeably to the last observation, he
might he in a good measure satisfied of it, though he were
not enough informed in affairs, or in the story of such. persons,
to understand half the satire. For, his satisfaction, that he
understood the rmeaning, the intended meaning, of these
writings, should be greater or less, in proportion as he saw the
enen4  tu.   Qf. twmrn to be capable of. such. appsliationm-aion



in proportion to the number of particular things capable of it
And -thus, if a long. series of prophecy is applicable to the
present state of the church, and to the political situations of
the kingdoms of the world, some thousand years after these
-prophecies were delivered, and a long series of prophecy delivered before the coming of Christ is applicable to him i theso
things are in themselves a proof, that' the prophetic history
was intended of him, and of those events: in proportion as
the general turn of it is capable of such application, and to
the number and variety of particular prophecies capable of it.
And, though in all just way of consideration, the appearing
completion of prophecies is to be allowed to be thus explaratory of, and to determine their meaning; yet it is to be remembered farther, that the ancient Jews applied the prophecies to a Messiah before his coming, in much the same manher as Christians do now; and that the primitive Christians
interpreted the prophecies respecting the state of the church
and of the world in the last ages, in the sense which the
event seems to confirm and verify. And from these things it
may be made appear,
3. That the showing, even to a high probability, if that
could be, that the prophets thought of some other events, in
such and such predictions, and not those at all which Chris.
tians allege to be completions of those predictions; or that
such and such prophecies are capable of being applied to
other events than those te which Christians apply them-that
this would not confute or destroy the force of the argument
from prophecy, even with regard to those very instances. For,
observe how this matter really is. If one knew such a person to be the sole author of such a book, and was certainly
assured, or satisfied to any degree, that one knew the whole
of what he intended in it; one should be assured or satisfied to
such degree, that one knew the whole meaning of that book;
for the meaning of a book is nothing but the meaning of the
author. But if one knew a person to have compiled a book
out of memoirs, which he received from another, of vastly superior knowledge in the subject of it, especially if it were a
book full of great intricacies and difficulties, it would in no
wise follow, that one knew the whole meaning of the book,
from knowing the whole meaning of the  pompiler; for the
original memoirs, i. e. the author of them, might have, and
there would be no degree of presumption, in many cases,
against supposing him to have, some farther meaning than
the compiler saw. To say, then, qthat the Scriptuies and the




CtUP. vi.j       FPot CHRISTIANITY.                 225
things contained in them can have no other or farther mean.
ing, than those persons thought or had, who first recited or
wrote them, is evidently saying, that those persons were the
original, proper, and sole authors of those books, i. e. that they
are not inspired; which is absurd, whilst the authority of
these books is under examination, i. e. till you have determined
they are of no divine authority at all. Till" this be determined, it must in all reason be supposed, not indeed that they
have, for this is taking for granted that they are inspired, but
that they may have, some farther meaning than what the
compilers saw or understood.  And, upon this supposition, It
is supposable also, that this farther meaning may be fulfilled.
Now, events corresponding to prophecies, interpreted in a different mneaning from that which the prophets are supposed to
have understood them; this affords, in a manner, the same
proof that this different sense was originally intended, as it
would have afforded, if the prophets -had not understood their
predictions in the sense it is supposed they did; because there
is no presumption of their sense of them being the whole sense
of them. And it has been already shown, that the apparent
completions of prophecy must be allowed to be explanatory
of its meaning.  So that the question is, whether. a series of
prophecy has been fulfilled, in a natural or proper, i. e. in any
real sense of the words of it. For such completion is equally
a proof of foresight more than human, whether the prophets
are, or are not, supposed to have understood it in a different
sense. I say, supposed; for though I think it clear, that the
prophets did not understand the full meaning of their predictions, it is atnother question, how far they thought they did,
and in what sense they understood them.
Hence may be seen, to how little purpose those persons busy
themselves, who endeavour to prove that the prophetic history
is applicable to events of the age in which it was written, or
~of ages before it. Indeed, to haive proved this before there
was any appearance of a farther completion of it, might have
answered some purpose; for it might have prevented the expectation of any such farther completion, Thus, could Por.
phyry h ve shown, that some principal parts of the book of
Daniel, for instalice, the seventh verse of the seventh chapter,
which the Christians interpreted of the latter' ages, was applicable to events which happened before or about the age of.
Antiochus Epiphanes; this might have'-prevented them frolm
expecting. any farther completionsof it. And unless there was
then, as I think there must have been, -external evidence con10*...




or THit PARtICUTLAR XVtDENCE      LPARn It
cerning that book, more than is come down to us, such a dis.
covery might have beet a stumbling-block in the way of
Christianity itself; considering the authority which our Sa.
viour has given to the book of Daniel) and how much the ge.
neral scheme of Christianity presupposes the truth of it. But
even this discovery, had there been any such,- would be of
very. little weight with reasonable men now; if this passage,
-thus applicable to events before the age of Porphyry, appears
to be applicable also to events, which succeeded the dissolution
of the Roman empire. I mention this, not at all as intending
to insinuate, that the division of this empire into ten parts, for it
plainly was divided into about that number, were, alone and
by itself, of any moment in verifying the prophetic history;
but only as an example of the thing I am speaking of. And
thus, upon the whole, the matter of inquiry evidently must be,
as above put, Whether the prophecies are applicable to Christ,
and to the present state of the world and of the church; appli
cable in such a degree, as to imply foresight: not whether
thesy are capable of any other application; though I know no
pretence for saying, the general turn of them is capable of any
other.
These observations are, I think, just, and the evidence referred to in them, real; though there may be people who will
not accept of such imperfect information from Scripture. Some
too have not integrity and regard enough to truth, to attend
to evidence, which keeps the mind in doubt, perhaps perplexity, and which is much of a different sort from what they expected.  And it plainly requires a degree of modesty and fairness,
beyond what every one ha; for a man to say, not to the world,
but to himself, that there is a. real appearance of somewhat of
great weight in this matter, though he is not able thoroughly
to satisfy himself about it; but it shall have its influence upon
him, in proportion to its appearing reality and weight. It is'much more easy, and more falls in with the negligence, presumption, -and wilfulness of the generality, to d -termine at
once. with a decisive air, there is nothing in it.  The prejul
dices arising from that absolute contempt and scorn, with
which this evidence is treated in the world, I do not mention.
* It appears, that Porphyry did nothing worth mentioning in this way.
For Jerome on the place says: Dtuas posteriores bestias —in uno JMacerio.
num regno ponit. And as to the ten kings: Decem reges enunerat, qui
ftlerunt sasvissimi: ipsosque'eges non zmius posit regni, verbi gratia,.Mace.
dionia, Sy-ri, Jsia., et Egypti; sed de diversis regnis unum efficit reoien
ordinern  And in this way of interpretation, any thing may b6 made of
any.thin.




cRAP,. vnI.]       TOR CIfUSTIANITY                  227
For what indeed can be said to persons, who are weak enough
in their unders.tandings to think this any presumption against
it; or, if they do not,: are yet weak enough in their temper
to be influenced nby such prejudices, upon such a subject?
I shalt viow secondly, endeavour to give some account of
the general argument for the truth of Christianity, consisting
both of the direct and circumstantial evidence, considered as
making uo one argument.  Indeed, to state and examine this
argumrnent fuilv. would be a work much beyond the compass
of this whole Treatise; nor is so much as a proper abridgment of it to oe expected here. Yet the present subject requires to have some brief account of. it given. For it is the
kind oi evidence upon which mast questions of difficulty, in
common Dractlce, are determined;  evidence arising from various coincidences, which support and confirm each other, and
in this manner prove: with more or less certainty, the point
under consideratlon.  And I choose to do it also, first, Because it seems to oeof the'greatest importance, and not duly
-attended to by every one, that the proof of revelation is, not
some direct and express things only, but a great variety of
circumstantial tnings also; and that though each of these
direct and circummstantial thiings is indeed to be considered
separately. yet tney are afterwards to be joined together; for
that the Drover torce of the evidence consists in the results of
those several things, considered in their respects to each
other. an:  united into one view; and, in the next place, Be.
cause it seems to me, that the matters of fact here set down,
which are acknowiedged by unbelievers, must be acknow
ledged by them also to contain together a degree of evidence
of great weight. if they could be brought to lay these several
things oefore themselves distinctly, and then with attention
consider thern together; instead of that cursory thought of
them, to wmcha we are familiarized. - For being familiarized
to the cursory thought of things, as really hinders the weight
of them from being seen, as from having its due influence
upon practice..The thing asserted, and the truth of which is to be in
quired into. is this: that over and above our reason and affec
tions, which God has given us for the information of our judgmnent and conduct of our lives, he has also, by external revelation, given us an account of himself and his moral government over the world, implying a future state of rewards and
punishments; i. e. hath revealed the system  of natural reli



228         OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE    [PAR T11,
glon; for natural religion may be externally revealed by
God, as the ignorant may be taught it by mankind, their fel.
low creatures-that God, I say, has given us the evidence of
revelation, as well as the evidence of reason, to ascertain this
moral system; together with an account of a particular dispensatid6n of Providence, w;hich reason could no way have
discovered, and a particular institution of religion founded on
it, for the recovery of mankind out of their present wretched
condition. and raising them to the perfection and final happi.
ness of their nature.
This revelation, whether real or supposed, may be consid.
ered as wholly historical. For prophecy is nothing but the
history of events before they come to pass: doctrines also are
matters of fact; and precepts come under the same notion.
And the general design of Scripture, which contains in it this
revelation, thus considered as historical, may be said to be, to
give us an account of the world, in this one single view, as
God's world; by which it appears essentially distinguished
from all other books, so far as I have found, texcept such as
are copied from it. It begins with an account of God's creation of the world, in order to ascertain and distinguish from all
others, who is the object of our worship, by what he has dohc;
in order to ascertain whd he is, concerning whose providence,
commands, promises, and threatenings, this sacred book all
along treats; the Maker and Proprietor of the world, he whose
creatures we are, the God of nature: in order likewise to distinguish him from the idols of the nations, which are either imaginary' beings, i. e. no beings at all; or else part of that creation, the historical relation of which is here given. And St
John, not improbably with an eye to this Mosaic account of
the creation, begins his gospel with an account of our Saviour's pre-existence, and that,'all things were made by him,
and without him was not any thing made that was made;'t
agreeably to the doctrine of St Paul, that' God created all
things by Jesus Christ.'~  This being premised, the Scripture,
taken together, seems to profess to contain a kind of an abridgment of the history of the world, in the view just now mentioned; that is, a general account of the condition of religion
and its professors, during the continuance of that apostacy
from God, and state of wickedness, which it every where
supposes the world to lie in. And this account of the state
of religion carries with it some brief account of the political
t Jobn i. 3.     1 Eph. HLi 9.




gfIP. OTII.]       FOR CHRISTIANITY.                 229
state of things, as religion is affected by it. Revelation indeed considers the common affairs of this world, and what is
going on in it, as a mere scene of distraction, and cannot be
supposed to concern itself with foretelling at what time Rome,
or Babylon, or Greece, or any particular place, should be the
most conspicuous seat of that tyranny and dissoluteness,
which all places equally aspire to be; cannot, I say, be supposed to give any account of this wild scene for its own sake.
But it seems to contain some very general account of the
chief governments of the world, as the general state of religion has been, is, or shall be, affected by them, from the first
transgression and during the whole interval of the world's
continuing in its present state, to a certain'future period,
spoken of both in the Old and New  Testament, very dis
tinctly, and in great variety of expression:'The times of the
restitution of all things;'~ when'the mystery of God shall
be finished, as he hath declared to his servants thie prophets;'t
when'the God of heaven shall set up a kiltgdom, which
shall never be destroyed; and the kingdom shall not be left
to other people,'d as it is represented to be during this apostacy, but'judgment shall be given to the saints,'~ and'they
shall reign;'ll' and the kingdom and dominion, and the greatness of the kingdom under the whole heaven, shall be given
to the people of the saints of the Most High.:If
Upon this general view of the Scripture, I would remark
how great a.length of time the vWhole relation takes up, near
six thousand years of which are past: and how great a variety of things it treats of; the natural and moral system or
history of the world, including the time when it was formed,
all contained in the very first book, and evidently written in a
rude and unlearned age; and in subsequent books, the various common  and prophetic history, and the particular dispensation of Christianity.  Now  all this together gives the
largest scope for criticism; and for confutation of what is capable of being confuted, either from reason, or from common
history, or from any inconsistence in its several parts. And
it is a thing which deseryes, I think, to be mentioned, that
whereas some imagine, the supposed doubtfulness of the evidence for revelation implies a positive argument that it is not
true; it appears, on the contrary, to imply a positive argunment that it is true. For, could any common relation of such
+ Acts iii. 21.  f Rev. x. 7.  I Dan. i   ~ Dan. vii. 
1 Rev. xi. 17, 18, ch.xx. XX    Dan. ii.




230'OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE    LPART.l
antiquity, extent, and variety, (for in these things the stress
of what l'am nOW observing lies,) be proposed to the examination of the world; that it could not, in an age of knowledge
anti liberty, be confuted, or shown to have nothing in it, to the
satisfaction of reasonable men; this would be thought a
strong presumptive proof of its truth. And indeed it must be
a proof of it just in proportion to the probability, that if it were
false, it might be shown to be so; and this, I think, is scarce
pretended to be shown but upon principles and in ways of
arguing which have been clearly obviated.- Nor does it at
all appear, that any sect of men who believe natural religion,
are, of the opinion; that Christianity has been thus confuted.
Bltt to proceed:
Together with the moral system of the world, the Old Testament contains a chronological account of the beginning of
it, and froim thence, an unbroken genealogy of mankind for
many ages before common history'-begins; and carried on as
much farther, as to make up a continued thread of history of
the length of between three and four' thousand years. It contains ani account of God's makiing a cov:enant with a particular nation, that they should be his people, and he would be their
God, in a peculiar sense; of his often interposing mniraculously
in their affairs; giving them the promise, and, long- after, the
possession, of a particular country; assuring them of the
greatest national prosperity in it, if they would worship him,
in opposition to the idols which the rest of the world worshipped, and Obey his commands; and threatening them with unexampled'punislmelits, if they disobeyed him, and fell into the
general idolatry: insomuchi, tha't this one nation should con
tinue to be the observation and the:wopder of all the world.
It declares particularly, that " God would scatter them amnong
all people, from one end of the earth unto the other;" but
"-when they should return unto the Lord their God, he would
have compassion upon them, and gather them, from all the
nations whither he had scattered them;" that "Israel should
be' saved in the Lord, with an everlasting salvation, and not be
ashamed or confounded, world without end."  And as some
of these promises are conditional, others are as absolute as
any thing' can be expressed, that the time should come, when
4'the people should be all righteous, and inherit the land forever:" that " though God would make a full end of all na.
tions whither he had scattered them, yet would he not make
f:Chap. 2, $, ji'




CIRA. Y:II.]       FOR CHRISTIANITY..                 231
a full end of them:". that "he would bring again the captivity
of his people Israel, and plant them upon their land, and they
should be no more pulled up out of their land:" that "the
seed of Israel should not cease from being a nation forever."-*
It foretells, that Gcd would raise them up a particular person,
in whom ah his promises should be fulfilled; the Messiah.
who should be, in a high and eminent sense, their anointcd
Princqe and Saviour.  This was foretold in such a manner, as
raised a general expectation of such a person in the nation, as
appears from the New Testament, and is an acknowledged.fact; an expectation of his coming at such a particular time,
before any one appeared, claiming to be that person, and
where there was no ground for such an expectation but from
the prophecies; which expectation, therefore, must in all reason be presumed to be explanatory to those prophecies, if
there were any doubt about their meaning.  It seems moreover to foretell, that this person should be rejected by that nation, to whom he had been so long promised, and though he
was so much desired by them.t  And it expressly foretells,
that he should be the Saviour of the Gentiles; and even that
the completion of the scilelie, contained in this book, and
then begun, and in its progress, should be somewhat so great,
that, in comparison with it, the restoration of the Jews alone
would be but of small account.'It is a light thing that thou
shouldest be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and to
restore the preserved of Israel: I will also give thee for a light
to the Gentiles, that thou mayest be for salvation unto the
end of the,arth.' -And,' In the.last days, the mountain of
the Lord's house shall be established in the top of the mountains,.and shall be exalted above the hills; and all nations
shall flow into it-for out of Zion shall go forth the law, and
the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. And-he shall judge
among the nations-and the Lord alone shall be exalted in
that day, and the idols he shall utterlry abolish.'[ The Scripture farther contains an account, that at the time the Messiah
was expected, a person rose up, in this nation, claiming to be
that Messiah, to be the person whom all the prophecies
* Deut. xxxiii. 64. Ch. xxx. 2, 3. Isa. xlv. 17. Ch. Ilx. 21. Jer.
xxx. 1 i. Ch. lxvi. 28. Amos ix. 15. Jer. xxxi. 36.
t Isa.viii. 14,15. Ch. x ix. 5. Ch. liii. Mal. i. 10, Il. and Ch. iii.
J Isa. xlix. 6. Ch. ii. Ch. xi. Ch. Ivi. 7. Mal. i. 1i. — To which must
be added, the other prophecies of the like kind, several in the New Testament, and very many in the Old, which describe what shall be the com.
pletior. of the revealed plan of Providence.




232         OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE'[PARt- Ut.
referred to, and in whom they should centre; that he spent
some years in a continued course of miraculous works, and
endued his immediate disciples-and followers with a power of
doing the same, as a proof of the truth of that religion which
lie commissioned them to publish; that, invested with this
authority and power, they made numerous converts in the
remotest countries, and settled and established his religion in
the world; to the end of which, the Scripture professes to
give a prophetic account of the state of this religion amongst
mankind.
Let us now. suppose a person utterly ignorant of history, to
have all this related to him, out of the Scriptures. Or, suppose such a one, having the Scriptures put into his bands, to
remark these things in it; not knowing but that the whole,
even its civil history, as well as the other parts of it, might
be, from beginning to end, an entire invention; and to ask,
What truth was in it, and whether the revelation here related
was real or a fiction? And, instead of a direct answer, suppose him, all at once, to be told the following confessed facts;
and then to unite them into one view.
Let him first be told, in how great a degree the profession
and establishment of natural religion, the belief that there is
one God to be worshipped, that virtue is his law, and that
mankind shallbe rewarded and punished hereafter, as they
obey and disobey it here; in how very great a, degree, I say,
the profession and establishment of this moral system in the
world, is owing to the revelation, whether real or supposed,
contained in this book; the establishment of this moral systemn, even in those countries which do not acknowledge the
proper authiority of the Scripture.   Let him be told also,
what number of nations do acknowledge its proper authority.
Let him then take in consideration, of what importance religion is to mankind. And upon these things, he might, I
think, trulv observe, that this supposed revelation's obtaining
and being received in the world, with all the circumstances
and effects of it, considered together as one event, is the most
conspicuous and important event in the story of mankind:
that a book of this nature, and thus promulged and recommended to our consideration, demands, as if by a voice from
heaven, to have its claims most seriously examined into; and
that, before such examination, to treat it with any kind of
scoffing and ridicule, is an offence against natural piety. But




CHAP. VII.]        FOR CHRISTIANITY.                 233
it is to be remembered, that how much soever the establish
ment of natural religion in the world is owing to the Scrip.
ture revelation, this does not destroy the proof of religion from
reason, any more than the proof of Euclid's Elements is de.
stroyed, by a man's knowing or thinking that he should
never have seen the truth of the several propositions contained
in kt, nor had those propositions come into his thoughts, but
for: that mathematician.
Let such a person as we are speaking of, b, in the next
place, informed of the acknowledged antiquity of the first
parts of this book; and that its chronology, its account of the
time when the earth, and the several parts of it, were first
peopled with human creatures, is no way contradicted, but is
really confirmed, by the natural and civil history of the
world, collected from common historians, from the state of the
earth, and the late invention of arts and sciences. And, as
the Scripture contains an unbroken thread of common and
civil history, from the creation to the captivity, for between
three and four thousand years; let the person we are speaking of be told, in the next place, that this general history, as
it is not contradicted, but is confirmed by profane history, as
much as there would be reason to expect, upon supposition
of its truth; so there is nothing in the whole history itself, to
give any reasonable ground of suspicion, of its not being, in
the general, a faithful and literally true genealogy of men,
and series of things. I speak here only of the common
Scripture history, or of the course of ordinary events related
in it, as distinguished from miracles, and from the prophetic
history. In all the Scripture narrations of this kind, following
events arise out of foregoing ones, as in all other histories.
There appears nothing related as done in any age, not conformable to the manners of that age; nothing in the account
of a succeeding age, which, one would say, could not be true,
or was improbable, from the account of things in the preceding one. There is nothing in the characters, which would
raise a thought of their being feigned; but all the internal
marks imaginable of their being real. It is to be added also,
that mere genealogies, bare narratives of the number of years
which persons called by such and such names lived, do not
carry the face of fiction; perhaps do carry some presumption
of veracity; and all unadorned narratives, which have nothing
to surprise, may be thought to carry somewhat of the like
presumption too. And the domestic and the political history
is plainly credible. There may be incidents in Scripture,




234         OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE    [PABT 13,
which, taken alone in the naked way they are told, may ap
pear strange, especihay to persons of other manners, tern.
per, education; but there are, also incidents of undoubted
truth, in many or most persons' lives, which, in the same circumstances, would appear to the full as stange. There may
be mistakes of transcribers, there may be other real or seeming
rmistakes, not easy to be particularly accounted for; but there
are certainly no more things of this kind in the Scripture,
than what were to.have been expected in books of such antiquity; and nothing, in any wise. sufficient to discredit the
general narrative. Now, that a history, claiming to commence from the creation, and extending in one continued
series, through so great a length of time, and variety of events,
should have such appearances of reality and truth in its whole
contexture, is surely a very remarkable circumstance in its
favor. And as all this is applicable to the common history
of the New Testament, so there is a farther credibility, and
a very high one, given to it by profane authors; many of
-these writing of the same times, and confirming the truth ot
customs and events, which are incidentally, as well as more
purposely mentioned in it. And this credibility of the common Scripture history, gives some credibility to its miraculo0us history; especially as this is interwoven with the common, so as that they imply each other, anld both together
make up one relation.
I et it then be more particularly observed to this person, that
it is an acknowledged matter of fact, which is indeed implied
in the foregoing observation, that there was such a nation as
the Jews, of the greatest antiquity, whose government and
general polity was founded on the law, here related to be
given them by Moses as from Heaven: that natural religion.
though with rites additional, yet no way contrary to it, was
their established religion, which cannot be said of the Gentile
world; and that their very being, as a nation, depended upon
their acknowledgment of one God, the God of the universe.
For suppose, in their captivity in Babylon, they had gone over
to the religion of their conquerors, there would have remained
no bond of union, to keep them a distinct people. And whilst
they were under their own kings, in their own country, a total apostacy from God would have been the dissolution of theii
whole government.  They in such a sense nationally acknowvledged and worshipped the Maker of heaven and earth, when
the rest of the world were sunk in idolatry, as rendered them,
in fact, the peculiar people of God. And this so remarkable




....... 1J..o.R CH....A..NIfi..:.
an establishment and preservation of natural religion amongst
them, seems to add some peculiar credibility to the historical
evidence for the miracles of Moses and the prophets; because
these miracles are a full satisfactory account of this event,
hich plainly wants to be accounted for, and cannot otherwise.
Let this personl, supposed wholly ignorant of history, be
acquairted farther, that one claiming to be the Messiah, of
Jewish extraction, rose up at the time when this nation, from
the prophecies above mentioned, expected the Messiah: that
he was rejected, as it seemed. to have been foretold he should,
by the body of the people under the direction of their rulers.
that in the course of a very few years he was believed on,
and acknowledged as the promised Messiah, by great numbers among the Gentiles-a greeably to the prophecies of Scrip
ture, yet not upon the evidence of prophecy, but of miracles,
of which miracles we also have strong historical evidence;
(by which I mean here no more than musts be acknowledged
by unbelievers; for let pious'frauds and follies be admitted to
weaken, it is absulrd to say they destroy, our evidence of
rriracles wrought in proof of Christianity:) that this religion
approving itself to tdie reason of mankind, and carrying its own
evidence with it, so far as reason is a judge of its system, and
being no way contrary to reason in those parts of it which require to be believed upon the mere authority of Its Atithor;
that this reiigioi, I say, gradually spread ahd supported itself,
ror somni hiihidred years, not only WVithout any assistance- from
tempora I poiwer, but under cbnstant discouragements, and often
the bitterest persecutions fron. it, and then became the religion
of the world; that, in the mean time, the Jewish nation and governmen t were destroyed in a very remarkable manner, and the
people carried away captive and dispersed through the most
distant cotlntries;. in which state of dispersion they have remained fifteen hundred years; and that they remain a numerous people, united among themselves, and distinguished from
the rest of the world, as they were in the days of Moses, by
th: profession of his law, and every where looked upon in a
manner, which one scarce knows= how distinctly to express,
bat in the words of the prophetic account of it, given so many
ages before it came to pass:'Thou shalt become an astonish.
tnent, a proverb, and a byword, among all nations whither the
Lord shall lead thee.'l
I D~eut..ziaviii. 37~




Age         or TM] PA:ATICULALk  t9IDE9tS    UPAUT gI
The appearance of a standing miracle, in the Jews remamn.
ing a distinct people in their dispositions, and the confirmation
which this event,appears to give to the truth of revelation,
may be thought to be answered, by their religion forbidding
them intermarriages with those of any other, and prescribing
them a great many peculiarities in their food, by which they
are debarred from the means of incorporating with the people
inl whose countries they live. This is not, I think, a satisfactory account of that which it pretends to account for. But
what does it pretend to account for? The correspondence between this event and the prophecies; or the coincidence of
both with a long dispensation of Providence, of a peculiar nature, towards that people formerly? No. It is only the event
itself which is offered to be thus accounted for  which single
event taken alone, abstracted fromn all such correspondence
and coincidence, perhaps would not have appeared miracu.
ous; but that correspondence and coincidence may be so,
though the event itself be supposed not. ~ Thus the concurrence of our Saviour's being born at Bethlehem, with a long
foregoing series of prophecy and other coincidences, is doubt.
less miraculous, the series of pTophecy, and other coincidences, and the event, being admitted; though the event itself,
his birth at that place, appears to have been brought about
in a natural way; of which, however, no one can be certain.
And as several of these events seem, in some degree, exn
pressly, to have verified the prophetic history already; so
likewise they may be considered farther, as having a peculiar
aspect towards the full comIpletion of it; as affording some
presumption that the whole of it shall, one time or other, be
fulfilled. Thus, that the Jews have been so wonderfuilly preserved in their long and wide dispersion; which is indeed the
direct fulfilling of some prophecies, but is now mentioned only
as looking forward to somewhat yet to come: that natural
religion came forth from Judea, and spread in the degree it
has done over the world, before lost in idolatry;,which, to.
gether with some-other thinfgs, have dist:inguished that very
place, in like manner as the people of it are distinguished:
that this great change of religion ox er the earth, was brought
about under the profession anid acknowledgment, that Jesus
was the promised Messiah: thihrgs of this hlind naturally turn
the thoughts of serio-is men towards the full completion of
the prophetic history, con.cermityg the final iRestoration of that
people; concerning' the establishment of the everlasting king.
domn aimorng them;thhe kingdomn of the Messiah; and the




(HAP. vii.]       FOR CHRISTIANITY.                237
future state of the world, under this sacred government. Such
circumstances and events compared with these prophecies,
though no completions of them, yet would not, I think, be
spoken of.as nothing in the argument, by a person upon his
first being informed of them.  They fall in with the prophetic
history of things still future, give it some additional' credibility,
have the appearance of being somewhat in order to the full
completion of it.
Indeed it requires a good degree of knowledge, and great
calmness and consideration, to be able to judge, thoroughly, of
the evidence for the truth of Christianity, from that part of
the prophetic history which relates to the situation of the
kingdoms of the world, and to the state of the church, from
the establishment of Christianity to the present time. But it
appears from a general view of it, to be very material. And
those persons'who have thoroughly examined it, and some of
them were men of the coolest tempers, greatest capacities,
and least liable to imputations of prejudice, insist upon it a.s
determinately conclusive.
Suppose now a person quite ignorant of history, first to recollect the passages above mentioned out of Scripture, without
knowing but that the whole was a late fiction, then to be informed of the correspondent facts now mentioned, and to unite
them all into one view: that the profession and establishment
of natural religion in the world, is greatly owing, in different
ways; to this book, and the supposed revelation which it contains; that it is acknowledged to be of the earliest antiquity;
that its chronology and common history are entirely credible;
that this ancient nation, the Jews, of whom it chiefly treats,
appear to have been, in fact, the people of God, in a distinguished sense; that as there was a national expectation
amongst them, raised from the prophecies, of a Messiah to
appear at such a time, so one at this time appeared, claiming
to be that Messiah; that he was rejected by this nation, but
received by the Gentiles, not upon the evidence of prophecy,
but of miracles; that the religion he taught supported itself
under the greatest difficulties, gained ground, and at length
became the religion of the world; that in the mean time the
Jewish polity was utterly destroyed, and the nation dispersed
over the face of the earth; that notwithstanding this, they
have remained a distinct numerous people for so many centuries, even to this day; which not only appears to be the express completion of several prophecies concerning them; but
also renders it, as one may speak, a visible and easy possiL




288         OF THE rARTICtULAR EVIDENCE    [oIART I
bility, that the promises made to them as a nation, may yet
be fulfilled. And to these acknowledged truths, let the person we have been supposing add, as I think he ought
whether every one will allow it or no, the obvious appear.
ances which there are, of the state of the world, in other respects besides what relates to the Jews, and of the Christian
church; having so long answered, and still answering to the
prophetic history.  Suppose, I say, these facts set over
against the things before mentioned out of the Scripture, and
seriously compared with them; the joint view of both together, must, I think, appear of very great weight to a considerate reasonable person: of much greater, indeed, upon
having them first laid before him, than is easy for us, who
are so familiarized to them, to conceive, -without some particular attention for that purpose.
All these things, and the several particulars contained under them, require to be distinctly and  most thoroughly ex.
amined into; that the weight of each may be judged of, upon
such examination, and such conclusion drawn as results from
their united force. But this has not been attempted here. I
have gone no farther than to show, that the general imperfect
view of them now given, the confessed historical evidence for
miracles, and the many obvious appearing completions of
prophecy, together with the collateral things- here mentioned, and there are several others of the like sort; that all
this together, which, being fact, must be acknowledged by
unbelievers, amounts to real evidence of somewhat more than
human in this matter: evidence much more important, than
careless men, who have been accustomed only to transient
and partial views of it, can imagine; and indeed abundantly
sufficient to act upon. And these things, I apprehend, must
-be acknowledged by unbelievers. For though they may say,
that the hIistorical evidence of miracles, Nwrought -in attestation of Christianity, is not sufficient to convince them that
such miracles were really wrought; they cannot-deny, that
there is such historical evidence, it being a known matter of
fact that' there is. They rmay say, the conformity between
the prophecies and events, is by accident; but there are many
instances in which such conformity itself cannot be denied.
They may say, with regard to such kind of collateral things
as those above mentioned, that any odd accidental events,
* All the particular things mentioned in this chapter, not reducible to
the head of certain miracles, or determinate completions of prophecy




Cupaf. V11.3       NM CAgo RIiSTIAXITY.
without meaning, will have a meaning found in them by fanciful pedple; and that such as are fancifulin any one certain
way, will make out a thousand coincidents, which seem  to
favor their peculiar follies. Men, I say, may talk thus; but
no one who is serious, can possibly think these things to be
nothing, if he considers the importance of collateral things,
and even of lesser circumstances, in the evidence of probability, as distinguished, in nature, from the evidence of demonstration. In many cases: indeed, it seems to require the
truest judgment, to determine with exactness the weight of
circumstantial evidence; but it is very often altogether as
convincing, as that which is the most express and direct.
This general view of the evidence for Christianity, con.
sidered as making one argument; may also serve to recomi
mend to serious persons, to set down every thing which they
think may be of any real weight at all in proof of it, and particularly -the many seeming completions of prophecy; and
they will find, that, judging by the natural rules, by which
we judge of probable evidence in cennmon matters, they
amount to a much higher degree of proof, upon such a joint
review, than could be supposed upon considering them sepa.
rately, at different times; how strong soever the proof might
before appear to them, upon such sepairate views of it. For
probable proofs, by being added, not, only increase the evidence, but nultiply it.  Nor should I dissuade any one-froin
setting down what he thought made. for the contrary side.
But then it is to be remembered, not in order to influence his
judgment, but his practice, that a mistake on one side, inay
be, in its consequences, much more dangerous than a mistake
on the other. And what course is most safe, and what most
dangerous, is a consideration thought very mnaterial,'when we
deliberate, not concerning events, but concerning conduct in
our temporal affairs. To be influenced by this consideration
in our judgment, to believe or disbelieve upon it, is indeed as
much prejudice, as any thing whatever.  And, like other
prejudices, it operates contrary ways in different men. For
some are inclined to believe what they hope; and others,
what they fear  And it is manifest unreasonableness, to
-apply to men's passions in order to gain their assent. -But
in deliberations concerning conduct, there is nothing which
reason more requires to be taken into the account, than the
importance of it.  For, suppose it doubtful, what would be
the consequence of acting in this, or in a contrary mamnner;
still, that taking one side could be attended with little or no




92)40    -  Of THE PAti'ItULAt  tfIDEUNC,E &C. [PART II
bad consequence, and taking the other- might be- attended
with the greatest, must appear, to unprejudiced reason, of the
highest moment towards determining how we are to act. But
the truth of our religion, like the truth of- common matters, is
to be-judged of by all the evidence taken together. And unless
the whole series of things which maybe alleged in this argument, and every particular thing in it, can reasonably be supposed to have been by accident, (for here the stress of the argumnent for Christianity lies,) then is the truth of it proved: in like
manner as if, in any cornmon case, numerous events'acknowledged, were to be alleged in proof of any other event dis.
puted; the proof of the disputed event would be proved, not
only if any one of the acknowledged ones did of itself clearly
imply it, but, though no one of them' singly did so, if the
whole of the acknowledged events taken together, could not
in reason be supposed to have happened, unless the disputed
one were true.
It is obvious, how much advantage the nature of this evidence gives to those persons who attack Christianity, espe.
cially in conversation. For it is easy to show, in a short and
lively manner, that such and such things are liable to objection, that this and another thing is of little weight in itself;
but impossible to show, in like manner, the united force of
the whole argument in one view.
However, lastly, as it has been made appear, that there is
no presumption against a revelation as miraculous; that the
general'scheme of Christianity, and the principal parts of it,
are conformable to the experienced constitution of things, and
the whole perfectly credible; so the account now given of the
positive evidence for it, shows, that this evidence is su.ch, as,
from the nature of it, cannot be destroyed, though it should
be lemened,




aarP. vIu.]J'OJ~IC1IONfS AGAUit: Tlt LtALOGOT,&o.  241
CHAPTER  Viii.
Of the Objectidns which may- be made against arguing froit
the.JIncdogy of Nature to Religion.
IF every one would consider, with such attention as they
are bound, even in point of morality, to consider, what they
judge and give characters of, the occasion of this chapter
would be, in some good measure at least, superseded.  But
since this is not to expected i for some we find do not concern
themselves to understand even what they write against:
since this treatise, in common with most others, lies open to
objections, which may appear very material to thoughtful men
at first sight; and, besides that, seeims peculiarly liable to the
objections of such as can judge without thinking, and of such
as can censure without judging; it may not be amiss to set
down the chief of these objections which occur to me, and con'
eider them to their hands.  And they are such as these."That it is a poor thing to solve difliculties in revelation, by
saying, that there are the same in natural religion; when what
is wanting is to clear both of them, of these their common, at
well as other their respective, diiftculties: but that it is a
strange way indeed of convincing men of the obligations of re.
ligion, to show them that they have as little reason for their
worldly pursuits; and a strange way of vindicating the justice
and goodness of the Author of nature, and of removing the objections against both, to which the system of religion lies open,
to show, that the like objections lie against natural providence 
away of answering objections against religion, without so
much as pretending to make outt, that the ~ystemr of it, or the
particular things in it objected agalrtst, are reasonable-espe,
cially, perhaps, some may be inattentive enough to add, must
this be, thought strange, when it is confessed that analogy is
no-answer to s"uch objections: that when this sort of Bearsow




gg42   -     fOJtIONS AGAINST t-TE ANALOGY   [PALT It.
ing is carried to the utmost length it can be imagined capable
of, it will yet leave the mind in a very unsatisfied state; and
that it must be unaccountable ignorance of mankind, to imagine they will be prevailed with to forego their present interests and pleasures, from regard to religion, upon doubtfill eNidence.'
Now, as plausible as this way of talkihg may appear, that
appearance will be found in a great mneasure owing to half.
views, which show but part of an object, yet show that indistinctly i and to undeterminatie language. By these means
weak men are often deceived by others, and ludicrous men by
themselves. And even those who are serious and considerate
cannot always readily d'sentangle, and at once clearly see
through the perplexities in which subjects themselves are in.
volved; and which are heightened by the deficiencies and the
abuse- of words. - To this latter sort of persons, the following
reply to each part of this objection severally, may be of some
assistance; as it may also tend a little to stop and silence
others.
First, The thing wanted, i. e. what men require, is to. have
all difficulties cleared. And this is, or, at least for any thing we
know to the contrary, it may be, the same, as requiring to com.
prehend the divine nature, and the whole plan of Providence
from everlasting. But it hath always been allowed to argue,
from what is acknowledged to what is disputed. And it is in
no other sense a poor thing, to argue from natural religion to-revealed, in the manner found fault with, thah it is to. argue in
numberless other ways of probable deduction and inference,
in matters of conduct, which we are continually reduced to the
necessity of doing.- Indeed the epithet poor may be applied,
I fear, as propqrly to great part, or the whole, of human life, as
it is to the things mentioned in the objection.  Is it not a poor
thing, for a physician to have so little knowledge in the cure of
diseases, as even the most eminent have? To act upon conjecture and guess, where the life of man is concened  Undoubtedly it is: but not in comparison of having no skill at
all in that useful art, and being obliged to act wholly in the
dark.
Further: Since it is as unreasonable as it is common, to
urge objections against revelation, which are of equal weight
against ratural religion; and those who do this, if they are not
confutied themselves, deal unfairly with others, in making it.seem that they are zarguing'only against revelation, or particu.
lar doctrines of it, when in reality they are arguing against




CHtAP. VIII.j    OF NATURE TO RELIGION.              243
moral providence; it is a thing of consequence to shtow, that
suach objections are as much levelled against natural reliiorn,
as a<gainst revealed.  And objections, which are equally applicable tc both, are, properly speaking, answered, by its
being shown that they are so, provided the former be admitted
to be true.  And without taking in the consideration how.listinctly this is admitted, it is plainly very matcrial to observe, that as the things objected against in natural religion,
are of the same kind with what is certain matter of experience in the course of providence, and in the information which
God affords us concerning our temporal interest under his government; so the objections against the system of Christianity and the evidence of it, are of the very same kind with
those which are made against the system  and evidence of
natural religion.  However, the reader upon review may see,
that most of the analogies insisted upon, even in the latter
part of this treatise, do not necessarily require to have more
taken for granted than is in the former; that there is an Author of nature, or natural Governor of the world; and Christianity is vindicated, not from its analogy to natural religion,
but chiefly, from its analogy to the experienced constitution
of nature.
Secondly, Religion is a practical thing, and consists in such
a determinate course of life; as being what, there is reason
to think, is commanded by the Author of nature, and will,
upon the whole, be our happiness under his government.
Now if men can be convinced that they have the like reason
to believe this, as to believe that taking care of their temporal
affairs will be to their advantage; such conviction cannot
but be an argument to ihem for the practice of religion. And
if these be really any reason for believing one of these, and
endeavouring to preserve life, and secure ourselves the necessaries and conveniences of it; then there is reason also for
believing the other, and endeavouring to secure the interest it
proposes to us.  And if the interest which religion proposes
to us be infinitely greater than our whole temporal interest,
then' there must be proportionably greater reason for endeavouring to secure one, than the other: since by the supposi.
tion, the probability of our securing one, is equal to the Frobability of our securing the other. This seems plainly unanswerable; and has a tendency to influence fair minds, who
consider what our condition really is, or upon what evidence
we are naturally appointed to act; and who are disposed to
acquiesce in the terms upon which we live, and attend to and




244      OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY   [PART I;
follow that practical instruction, whatever it be, which is
afforded us.
But the chief and proper force of the argument referred to
in the objection, lies in another place. For it is said, that the
proof of religion is involved in such inextricable difficulties, as
to render it doubtful; and that it cannot be supposed, that if
it were true, it would be left upon doubtful evidence.  Here,
then, over and above the force of each particular difficultyr ox
objection, these difficulties and objections, taken together, art
turned into a positive argument against the truth of religion,
which argument would stand thus. If religion were true, it
woultL not be left doubtful, and open to objections to the degree in which it is; therefore, that it is thus left, not only renders the evidence of it weak, and lessens its force, in proportion to the weight of such objections but also shows it to be
false, or is a general presumption of its being so. Now the
observation, that from the natural constitution and course of
things, we must in our temporal concerns, almost continually,
and in matters of great consequence, act upon evidence of a
like kind and degree to the evidence of religion, is an -answer
to this argument; because it shows, that it is according to
the conduct and character of the Author of nature to appoint
we should act upon evidence like to that, which this argument presumes he cannot be supposed to appoint we should
act upon: it is an instance, a general one made up of numerous particular ones, of somewhat in his dealing with us,
similar to what is said to be incredible. And as the force of
this answer lies merely in the parallel which there is between
the evidence for religion and for our temporal conduct; the
answer is equally just and conclusive, whether the parallel be
made out, by showing the evidence of the former to be higher,
or the evidence of the latter to be lower.
Th'i-dly, The design of this treatise is not to vindicate the
character of God, but to show the obligations of men; it is
not to justify his providence, but to show what belongs to us
to do.  These are two subjects, and ought not to be con.
founded. And though they may at length run up into each
other, yet observations may immediately tend to make out
the latter, which do not appear, by any immediate connexion,
to the purpose of the former; which is less our concern than
many seem to think. For, 1st, It is not necessary we should
justify the dispensations of Providence against objections, any
farther than to sLow, that the things objected against may
for aught we know, be consistent with justice and goodness




CHAP.:VIII.]    OF NATURE TO RELIGION.            245
Suppose, then, that there are things in the system of this
world, and plan of Providence relating to it, which taken alone
would be unjust; yet it has been shown unanswerably, that
if we could take in the reference which these things may
have to other things present, past, and to come; to the whole
scheme, which the things objected against are parts of; these
very things might, for aught we know, be found to be, not
only consistent with justice, but instances of it. Indeed it has
been shown, by the analogy of what we see, not only possible that this niay be the casei but credible that it is. And
thus objections, drawn from such things, are answered, and
Providence is vindicated, as far as religion makes its vindication necessary. Hence it appears, 2dly, That objections
against the divine justness and goodness are not endeavoured
to be removed, by showing that the like objections, allowed
to be really conclusive, lie against natural providence: but
those objections being supposed and shown not to be conclusive, the things objected against, considered as matters of
fact, are farther shown to be credible, from their conformity to
the constitution of nature; for instance, that God will reward
and punish men for their actions hereafter, from the observation that he does reward and punish them for their actions
here. And this, I apprehend, is of weight. And I add, 3dly,
It would be of weight, even though those objections were not
answered. For, there being the proof of religion above set
down, and religion implying several facts; for instance, again,
the fact last mentioned, that God will reward and punish men
for their actions hereafter; the observation that his present
method of government is by rewards and punishments, shows
that future fact not to be incredible; whatever objections men
may think they have against it, as unjust or unmerciful, according to their notions of justice and mercy;'or as improbable from their belief of necessity. I say, as improbable; for
it is evident no objection against it, as unjust, can be urged
fiom necessity; since this notion as much destroys injustice,
as it does justice. Then, 4thly, Th6ugh objections against
the reasonableness of the sxstem of religion, cannot indeed be
answered without entering into a consideration of its reasonableness, yet objections against the credibility or truth of it
may. Because the system of it is reducible into what is properly matter of fact; and the truth, the probable truth, of facts,
nmay be shown without consideration of their reasonableness.
Nor is it necessary, though, in some cases and respects, it is
highly useful and properi yet it is notnecessary, to give a proof




246       OBJEC'IbNS AGAINST ifiiE  ANALOGY  EPARr IL
of the reasonableness oif every precept enjoined us, and of
every particular dlispehsation of Providence, which oon'iies into
the system of religiori.  Iiideed the more thoroughly a person
of a right disposition is cbnvihced of the perfection of the divine
nature and conduct, the farther he will advance towards that
perfection of religion, which St John speaks of.s  But the
gqneral obligations of religionr are fully made out, by proving
the reasonableness of the practice 6f it. And that the practice of religion is reasonable, may be shown, though no more
could be proved, than that the system bf it enay be so, for
aught we know to the contrary; and even without entering
into the distinct consideratioh of this.  And' from hence, 5thl1,
It is easy to see, that though the analogy of nature is not an
immediate -answer to objections against the wisdom, the justice, or goodness, of any doctrine or precept of religion; yet
it may be, as it is, an immediate and direct answer to what is
really intended by such objections; which is, to show that
the things objected against ale incredible.
Fou-rthly, It is most readily acknowledged, that the foregoing Treatise is by no means satisfactory; very far indeed
from it: but so would any natural institution of life appear, if
reduced into a system, together with its evidence.  Leav
ing religion out of the case, men are divided in their opinions,
whether our pleasures over-balance our pains; and whether
it be, or be not, eligible to live in this world.  And were all
such controversies settled, which, perhaps, in speculation
would be found ihvolved ih great difficulties; and Were it determined, upon the evidence of reason, as nature has deter-.
mined it to'- our hands, that life is to be preserved; yet still,
the rules which God has been pl'easejd to afford us, rer escaping the miseries bof it, and obtaming  its satisfactions, the rules,
for instance, of preseiving health and recovering it when lost,
are not only fallible, anld precarious, but very far from being
exact.  Nor are we informed by hature, in filture contingencies and accidents, so as to render it at all certain, what is
the best method of managing our affairs.  What will be the
success of our temporal pursuits, in the common sense of the
word success, is highly doubtful. And what will be the success of them; in the proper sense of the word; I. e. what happiness or ehnjoyment we shall obtain by thetn, is doubtful in a
much higher degree.  Indeed, the unsatisfactory nature of
the evidence, with which we are obliged to take up, in the
1 Jo.ohi i'. i.




CHAP. VIII.1    OF NATURE TO RELIGION.               247
daily course of life, is scarce to be expressed. Yet men do
not throw away life, or disregard the interests of it, upon ac.
count of this doubtfulness.  The evidence of religion then.being admitted real, those who object against it, as not satisfactory, i. e. as not being what they wish it, plainly forget
the very condition of our being; for satisfaction, in this sense,
does not belong to such a creature as man.  And, which is
more material, they forget also the very natu'e of religion.
For, religion presupposes, in all thqse who will embrace it, a'certain degree of integrity and honesty; which it was intended to try whether men have or not, and to exercise in
such as have it, in order to its improvement. Religiopn presupposes this as much, and in the same sense, as speaking to
a man presupposes he understands the language in which
you speak; or as warning a man of any danger, presupposes
that he has such a regard to himself, as that he will endeavour
to avoid it. And therefore the question is not at all, Whether
the evidence of religion be satisfactory? but, Whether it be,
in reason, sufficient to prove and discipline that virtue which
it presupposes? Now, the evidence of it is fully sufficient for
all those purposes of probation; how far soever it is from
being satisfactory, as to the purposes of curiosity, or any
other: and indeed it answers the purposes of the former in
several respects, which it would not do, if it were as overbearing as is required.  One migl't add farther, that whether
the motives, or the evidence for any course of actions, be satisfactory, meaning here by that word, what satisfies a man,
that such a course of action will in event be for his good;
this need never be, and I think, strictly speaking, never is,
the l)ractical question in common matters. But the practical
question in all eases, is, Whether the evidence for a course of
action be such, as, taking in all circumstances, makes the
fiaculty within us, which is the guide and judge of conduct,*
determine that course of action to be prudent? Indeed, satisfaction that it will be for ot r interest or happiness, abundantly
determines an action to be prudent; but evidence, almost in.
finitely lower than this, determines actions to be so too, even
in the conduct of every day.
V;fthly, As to the objection concerning the influence which
this argument,'or any part of it, may, or may not, be expected
to have upon /ihen, I observe, as above, that religion being in-,ended for a trial and exercise of the motality of eyery person's
* See DisSertatuon 2.




248       OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY  "[PAtl II
character, who is a subject of it; and there being, as I have
shown, such evidence for it, as is sufficient, in reason, to influ.
ence men to embrace it; to object, that it is not to be imagined mankind will be influenced by such evidence, is nothing
to the purpose of the foregoing Treatise. For the purpose of
it is not to inquire, What sort of creatures mankind are; but,
Wtfat the light and knowledge, which is afforded them, requires they should be? to show how, in reason, they ought
to behave; not how, in fact, they will behave. This de
pends upon themselves, and is their own concern; the per
sonal concern of each man in particular. And how little re.
gard the generality have to it, experience, indeed, does too
fully show. But religion, considered as a probation,' has had
its end upon all persons, to whom it has been proposed, with
evidence sufficient in reason to influence their practice; for
by this means they have been put into a state of probation;
let them behave as they will in it. And thus, not only revelation, but reason also, teaches us, that by the evidence of religion being laid before men, the designs of Providence are
carrying on, not only with regard to those who will, but likewise with regard to those who will not, be influenced by it.
However, lastly, the objection here referred to, allows the
things insisted upon in this Treatise to be of some weight;
and if so, it mav be hoped it will have some influence.  And
if there be a probability that it will have any at all, there is
the same reason in kind, though not in degree, to lay it before
men, as there would be, if it were likely to have a greatek in.
fluence.
And farther, I desire it may be considered, with respect to the
whole of the foregoing objections, that in this Treatise I have
argued upon the principles of others,- not my own; and have
omittedwhat I think true, and of the most importance, because
by others thought unintelligible, or not true. Thus I have
argued upon the principles of the Fatalists, which I do not
belleve; and have omitted a thing of the utmost importance,
which I do believe, the moral fitness and unfitness of actions,
prior to all will whatever; which I apprehend as certainly to
determine the divine conduct, as speculative truth and falsehood necessarily determine the divine judgment.  Indeed
* By arguing tpon the principles of others, the reader will observe is
meant, not proving any thing from those principles, but notwithstanding
them. Thus religion is proved, not fromn the opinion of necessity, which
is absurd, but notwithstanding or even though that opinion were admitted
to be true.




CHAP. V!II.]    OF NATURE TO RELIGION.             249'the'principle of liberty, and that of moral fitness, so force
themselves upon the mind, that moralists, the ancients as well
as moderns, have formed their language upon it. And probably
it may appear in mine, though I have endeavoured to avoid it:
and in order to avoid it, have sometimes been obliged to express myself in a manner which will appear strange to such
as do not observe the reason for it; but the general argu ment
here pursued does not at all suppose, or proceed upon, these
principles. Now, these two abstract-principles of liberty and
moral fitness being omitted, religion can be considered in no
other view than merely as a question of fact; and in this view
it is here considered. It is obvious, that Christianity, and the
proof of it, are both historical. And even natural religion is,
properly, a matter of fact. For, that there is a righteous
Governor of the world, is so; and this proposition contains
the general system of natural religion. But then, several abstract truths, and in particular those two principles, are
usually taken into consideration in the proof of it; whereas it
is here treated of only as a matter of fact. To explain this:
that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones,
is an abstract truth; but that they appear so to our mind' is
only a matter of fact. And this last must have been ad
mitted, if any thing was, by those ancient sceptics, who would
not have admitted the former; but pretend to doubt, Whether
there were any such thing as truth; or, Whether we could
certainly depend upon our faculties of understanding for the
knowledge of it in any case. ~ So likewise, that there is, in
the nature of things, an original standard of right and wrong
in actions, independent upon all will, but which unalterably
determines the will of God, to exercise that moral government
over the world which religion teaches, i. e-. finally and upon
the whole to reward and punish men respectively as they act
right or wrong; this assertion contains an abstract truth, as
well as matter of fact. But suppose in the present state,
every man, without exception, was rewarded and punished,
in exact proportion as he followed or transgressed that sense
of right and wrong, which God has implanted in the nature
7f every man; this would not be at all an abstract truth, but
only a matter of fact. And though this fact were acknowledged by every one, yet the very same difficulties might be
raised, as are now, concerning the abstract questions of liberty
and moral fitness: and we should have a proof, even the cer.
tain one of experience, that the government of the world was
perfectly moral, without taking in the consideration of those
11*




'25'0     OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY  [LPA:tT TI.
questions: and this proof would remain, in what way soever;hey were determined. And thus, God having given man.
kind a moral faculty, the object of which is actions, and
which naturally approves some actions as right and of good
desert, and condemns others as wrong and of ill desert; that
he will, finally and upon the whole,'reward the former and
punish the latter, is not an assertion of an abstract truth, but
ot what is as mere a fact as his doing so at present would be.
ThLis future fact I have not indeed proved with the force with
which it might be proved, from the principles of liberty and
moral fitness; but without them have given a really conclusive practical proof of it, which is greatly strengthened by the.
general. analogy of nature; a proof/easiJy cavilled at, easily
shown not to be demonstrative, for it is not offered as such,
but impossible, I think, to be evaded or answered. And thus
the obligations of religion are made out, exclusively of the
questions concerning- liberty and moral fitness; which have
been perplexed with difficulties and abstruse reasonings, as
every thing may.
Hence, therefore, may be observed distinctly, what is the
force of this Treatise.  It will be; to such as are convinced
of religion, upon the proof arising out of the two last mentioned principles, an additional proof and a confirmation of it,
to such as do not admit those principles, an original proof of
it, and a confirmation of that proof.  Those'who believe,
will here find the scheme of Christianity cleared of objections
and the evidence of it in a peculiar manner strengthened.
those who do not believe, will at least be shown the absurdity
of all attempts to prove Christianity false, the plain undoubted
credibility of it, and, I hope, a good deal more.
And thus, though some perhaps may seriously think, that
analogy, as here urged, has too great stress laid upon it; and
riidicule, unanswerable'ridicule, may be applied, to show the
argument from it in a disadvantageous light: yet there can
be no question, but that it is a real one. For religion, both
natural and revealed, implying. in it numerous facts; analogy
being a confirmation of all facts to which it can be applied,
as it is the only proof of most, cannot but be admitted by
every one to be a material thing, and truly of weight on the
side of religion, both natural and revealed; and it ought to
be particularly regarded by such as profess to follow nature
and to be less a4tisied with abstract reasonings.




DART 11.             CONCLUSION.                  251
CONCLUSION.
WHATEVER account may be given, of the strange inattention and disregard, in some ages and countries, to a matter of
such importance as religion, it would, before experience, be
incredible, that there should be the like disregard in those,
who have had the moral system of the world laid before them,
as it is by Christianity, and often inculcated upon them; beca-use this imoral system carries in it a good degree of evidence for its truth, upon its being barely proposed to our
thoughts.'There is no need of abstruse reasonings and distinctions, to convince an unprejudiced understanding, that
there is a God who made and governs the world, and who
w-ill judge it in righteousness; though they may be necessary
-to answer abstruse difficulties, when once such are raised;
when the very meaning of those words, which express most
intelligibly the general doctrine of religion, is pretended to be
uncertain, and the clear truth of the thing itself is obscured
by the intricacies of speculation. But, to an unprejudiced
mind,' ten thousand thousand instances of design, cannot but
prove a Designer. And it is intuitively manifest, that creatures ought to live under a dutiful sense of their Maker; and
that justice and charity must be his laws, to creatures whom
he has made social, and placed in society. Indeed, the truth
of revealed religion, peculiarly so called, is not self-evident,
but'requires external proof, in order to its being received.
Yet inattention, among us, to revealed religion, will be found
to imply the same dissolute immoral temper of mind, as inattention to natural religion; because, when both are laid before us, in the manner they are in Christian countries of
liberty, our obligations to inquire into both, and to embrace
both upon supposition of their truth, are obligations of the
same nature. For, revelation claims to be the voice of God:;
and our obligation to attend to his voice, is, surely, moral in
all cases. And as it is insisted, that its evidence is conclulivev,upon thorough'consideration of it; -so it offers itself to us




252. CONcLU.SIN.             [.Pn rTJ.
with manifest obvious appearances of naving something more
than human in it, and therefore in all reason requires to have
its claims most seriously examined into. It is to be added,
that though light and knowledge, in what manner soever
afforded us, is equally from God; yet a miraculous revelation
has a peculiar tendency, from the first principles of our nature,
to awaken mankind, and inspire them with reverence and
awe: and this is a peculiar obligation,,to attend to what
claims to be so with such appearances of truth. It is therefore
most certain, that our obligations to inquire seriously into the
evidence of Christianity, and, upon supposition of its truth, to
embrace it, are of the utmost importance, and moral in the
highest and most proper sense. Let us then suppose, that
the evidence of religion in general, and of Christianity, has
been seriously inquired into by all reasonable men among us.
Yet we find many professedly to reject both, upon speculative principles of infidelity. And all of them do not content
themselves with a bare neglect of religion, and enjoying
their imaginary freedom from its restraints.  Some go much.beyond this. They deride God's moral government over the
world: they renounce his protection, and defy his justice:
they ridicule and vilify Christianity, and blaspheme the Author of it; and take all occasions to manifest a scorn and contempt of revelation. This amounts to an active setting themselves against religion; to what may be considered as a positive principle of irreligion  which they cultivate within them-.selves, and, whether they intend this effect or not, render
habitual, as a good man does the contrary principle. And
others, who are not chargeable with all this profligateness,
yet are in avowed opposition to religion, asjf discovered to be
groundless. Now admitting, which is the supposition we go
upon, that these persons act upon what they think principles
of reason, and otherwise they are not to be argued with; it
is really inconceivable, that they should imagine they clearly
see the whole evidence of it, considered in itself, to be nothing
at all; nor do they pretend this., They are far indeed from
having a just notion of its evidence; but they would not say
its evidence was nothing, if they thought the system of it,
with all its circumstances, were credible, like other matters of
science or history.  So that their manner of treating it must
proceed, either from such kind of objections against all religion, as have been answered or obviated in the -former part of
this Treatise; or else from objections and difficulties, supposed;rwep coui ari to. Christianity.....Thus, they entertain preju



PART Ilj             CONCLUSION.                    253
dices against the whole notion of a revelation and miraculous
interpositions. They find things in Scripture, whether in in
cidental passages or in the general scheme of it, which ap
pear to them unreasonable.  They take for granted, that. if
Christianity were true, the light of it must have been more
general, and the evidence of it more satisfactory, or rather
overbearing; that it must and would have been, in some way,
otherwise put and left, than it is. Now, this is not imagining
they see the evidence itself to be nothing, or inconsiderable;
but quite another thing.. It is being fortified against the evidence, in some degree acknowledged, by thinking they see
the system of Christianity, or somewhat which appears to
~hem necessarily connected with it, to be incredible or false;
fortified against that evidence, which might, otherwise, make
great impression upon them. Or, lastly, if any of these persons are, upon the whole, in doubt concerning the truth of
Christianity, their behaviour seems owing to their taking for
granted, through strange inattention, that such doubting is, in
a manner, the same thing as being certain against it.
To these persons, and to this state of opinion concerning religion, the foregoing Treatise is adapted. For, all the general objections against the moral system of nature having
been obviated, it is shown, that there is not any peculiar presumption at all against Christianity, either considered as not
discoverable by reason, or as unlike to what is so discovered;
nor any worth mentioning, against it as miraculous, if any at
all: none certainly, which can render it in the least incredible.
It is shown, that upon supposition of a divine revelation, the
analogy of nature renders it beforehand highly credible, I
think probable, that many things in it must appear liable to
great objections; and that we must be incompetent judges of
it, to a great degree. This observation is, I think, unques.
tionably true, and of the very utmost importance: but it is
urged, as I hope it will be understood, with great caution of
not vilifying the faculty of reason, which is' the candle of the
Lord within us;'- though it can afford no light, where it does
not shine: nor judge, where it has no principles to judge
upon. The objections here spoken of, being first answered
in the view of objections against Christianity as a matter of
fact, are in the next place considered as urged more imfm-edifitely against the wisdom, justice, and goodness of the Chris.
tian dispensation.  And it is fully made out, that they admit
4 Prov. xx. 2 -




-254                 CONCLUSION.              [PART.11
of exactly the like answer, in every respect, to wnat the like
objections against the constitution of nature admit of: that, as
partial views give the appearance of wrong to things, which
upon farther consideration and knowledge of their relations to
other things, are'found just and good; so it is perfectly credible, that the things objected against the: wisdom and goodness
of the Christian dispensation, may be rendered instances of
Wisdom and goodness by their reference to other things beyond our view: because Christianity is a'scheme as.much
above our comprehension, as that of nature;.and, like that, a
scheme in which means are made use of to accomplish ends.
and which, as is most credible, may be carried on by- general
laws. And it ought to be attended to, that this is not an answer taken merely or chiefly from our ignorance;' but' from
somewhat positive, which our observation shows us.. For, to
like objections, the like answer is experienced to be just, in
numberless parallel cases. The objections against the Chris
tian- dispensation, and the method by which it is carried on,
having been thus obviated, in general and together: the chief
of them are considered distinctly, and the particular things
objected to are shown credible, by their perfect analogy, each
part, to the constitution of nature. Thus, if man be fallen
from his primitive state, and to be restored, and infinite wisdom and power engages in accomplishing our recovery; it
were to have been expected, it is said, that this should have
been effected at once, and not' by such a long series of means,
and such a various economy of persons and things; one:dispensation preparatory to another, this to a farther one, and so
on through an indefinite number of ages, before the end of the
scheme proposed can be completely accomplished; a scheme.conducted by infinite wisdom, and executed by Almighty
power. But now, on the contrary, our finding. that every
thing in-the constitution and course of nature is thus'carried
on, shows such expectations concerning revelation.'to be
highly unreasonable; and is a satisfactory answer.to them,
-when urged as objections against the credibility, that the
great scheme of Providence in the redemption_ of the world,
may'be of this kind, and to be accomplished in this manner.
As to the particular method of our redemption, the appoint.
ment of a Mediator between God and man; this has been
shown to be most obviously analogous to the general con
dcts of nature, i.-e. the God of. natuire, in appointing others to
be the instruments of his mercy, as we experience in the'qaily course of Providence, The condition of this world




Axe?:I.]            CONCLUSION.                   255
which the doctrine of our redemption by Christ presupposes,
so mich falls in with natural appearances, that heathen
moralists inferred it from those appearances; inferred, that
human nature was fallen from its original rectitude, and, in
consequence of this, degraded from its primitive happiness.
Or, however this opinion came into the world, these appearances must hatve kept un the tradition, and confirmed the belief of it. And it was the general opinion, under the light of
nature, that reperitance an:d refdrmatibn, alone and by itself,
was not sufficient to do away sin, and procure a full remission
of the penalties annexed to it; and as the reason of the thing
does not at all lead to any conclusion; so every day's experience shows ius that reformation. is not, in any sort, sufficient'to prevent the present disadvantages and miseries, which, in
the natural course of things, God has annexed to folly and
extravagance. Yet there may be ground to think, that the
punishments, which by the general laws of divine government, are annexed to vice, may be prevented; that provision may have been, even otiginally, made, that they should
be prevented by sormn miheans or other,'thoUgh they could not
by reformation alohe. For we have daily instances of such
mercy, in the general conduct of nature; compassion provided obr misery,* medicines for diseases, friends against enemies. There is provisions made, in the original constitution
of the world, that niuch of the natural bad consequences'of
our folhes, which persons themselves alone cannot prevent,.
may be prevented by the assistance of others; assistance,
which nature enables, and disposes, and appoints them to
afford. By a method of goodness analogous to this,' when
the world lay in wickedness, and consequently in ruin,'God
so, loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son' to
save it; and'he being made perfect by suffering, became
the author of eternal salvation to all them that obey him.'T
Indeed, neither reason nor analogy would lead us to think, in
particular, that the interposition of Christ, in the manner in
which he did interpose, would be of that efficacy for recovery
of the world, which the Scripture teaches us it was: but
neitherswouild reason nor analogy lead us to think, that other
particular means would be of the efficacy, which experience
shows they are, in numberless instances,  knd therefore, as
the case before us loes not admit of experience, so that neither
reason nor analogy can show how, or in what particular.way,
*'Sermon 6th, at the Rolls.  t John iii 16. Heb. v. 9.




256                   CONCLUSION.               [PAT:f
the interposition of Christ, as revealed in Scripture, is of that
efficacy which it is there represented to be; this is no kind
nor degree of presumption against its being really of that efficacy. Farther: the objections against Christianity, from the
light of it not being universal, nor its evidence so strong as
might possibly be given us, have been answered by the general analogy of nature.  That God.has made such variety
of creatures, is indeed an answer to the former; but that he
dispenses his gifts in such variety, both of degrees and kinds,
amongst creatures of the same species, and even to the same
individuals at different times, is a more obvious and full answer to it. And it is so far from being the method of Providence, in other cases, to afford us such overbearing evidence
as some require in proof of Christianity, that, on the contrary,
the evidence upon which we are naturally appointed to act in
common matters, throughout a very great part of life, is
doubtful in a high degree.  And, admitting the fact, that
God has afforded to some no more than doubtful evidence ot
religion, the same account may be given of it, as of difficulties and temptations with regard to practice. But as it is not
impossible, surely, that this alleged doubtfulness may be
men's own fault, it deserves their most serious consideration,
whether it be not so. However, it is certain that doubting
implies a degree of evidence for that of which we doubt, and
that this degree of evidence as really lays us under obliga.
tions, as demonstrative evidence.
The whole then of religion is throughout credible; nor is
there, I think, any thing relating to the revealed dispensation
of things more different from the experienced constitution and
course ofnature, than some parts of the constitution of nature
are from other parts of it. And if so, the only question which
remains is, What positive evidence can be alleged for the truth
of Christianity? This too, in general, has been considered,
and the objections against it estimated. Deduct therefore what
is to be deducted from that evidence, upon account of any
weight which may be thought to remain in these objections,
after what the analogy of nature has suggested in answer to
them; and then consider what are the practical consequences
frorn all this, upon the most sceptical principles one can argue
upon, (for I am writing to persons who entertain these principles:) and, upon such consideration, it will be obvious, that ixn.
morality, as little excuse as it admits of in itself, is greatly




a WATII.             -CONCLUSION.                   257
aggravated, in persons who have been made acquainted with.
Christianity, whether they believe it or not; because the moral
system of nature, or natural religion, which Christianity lays
before us, approves itself, almost intuitively, to a reasonable
mind, upon seeing it proposed. In the next place, with regard
to Christianity it Will be observed, that there is a middle, between a full satisfaction of the truth of it, and the satisfaction"
of the contrary. The middle state of mind between these
two consists in a serious apprehension that it may be true,
joined with doubt, whether it be so. And this, upon the best
judgment I am able to make, is as far towards speculative infidelity, as any sceptic can at all be supposed to go, who has
had true Christianity, with the proper evidence of it, laid before him, and has in any tolerable measure considered them.
For I would not be mistaken to comprehend all who have
ever heard of it; because it seems evident, that, in many
countries called Christian, neither Christianity, nor its evidence, are fairly laid before men.  And in places where both
are, there appear to be some who have very little attended to
either, and who reject Christianity with a.scorn proportionate
to their inattention; and yet are by no means without understanding in other matters. Now it has been shown, that a serious apprehension that Christianity may be true, lays persons under the strictest obligations of a serious regard to it,
throughout the whole of their life; a regard not the same
exactly, but in many respects nearly the same with what a
full conviction of its truth would lay them under. Lastly, it
will appear, that blasphemy and profaneness, I mean with
regard to Christianity, are absolutely without excuse. For
there is no temptation to it, but from the wantonness of vanity
or mirth; and these, considering the infinite importance of
the subject, are no such temptations as to afford any excuse
for it. If this be a just account of things, and yet men canl
go on to vilify or disregard Christianity, which is to talk and
act as if they had a demonstration of its falsehood; there is
no reason to think they would alter their behaviour to any
purpose, though there were a demonstration of its truth.




258            OF PERSONAL IDENTITY,            D 
DISSERTATION L
OF PERSONAL IDENTITY.
WHETHER we are to live in a future. state, as it is the most
important question which can possibly be asked, so it is the
most intelligible one which can be:expressed in'language.
Yet strange perplexities have been raised about the mearning
of that identity, or sameness of person, which is implied in the
notion of our living now and hereafter, or in any two successive moments. And the solution of these difficulties bath
been stranger-than the difficulties thenselves. For, personal
identity has been explained so by some, as to render the inquiry concerning a future life of no consequence at all to us,
the persons who are making it. And though few men'can
be misled by such subtleties, yet it may be proper a little.to
consider them.
Now, when it is asked wherein personal identity consists,
the answer should be the same as if it were asked, wherein
consists similitude or equality; that all attempts to define,
would but perplex it. Yet there is no difficulty at all in: ascertaining the idea. For as, upon two triangles being:compared or viewed together, there arises to the mind the idea of
similitude; or upon twice two and four, the idea of equality;
so likewise, upon comparing the consciousness of one's self,
or one's own existence in any two moments, there as immediately arises to the mind the idea of personal identity. And'
as the two former comparisons not only give the idea of similitude and equality, but also shows us, that two triangles are
like, and twice two and four are equal; so the latter comparison not only gives us the idea of personal identity, but also
shows us the identity of ourselves in those two moments;
the present, suppose, and that immediately past; or the
present, and that a month, a year, or twenty years past. Or,.n other words, by reflecting upon that which is myself now




feits. Id       OF- PERSONAL IDENtITY,            259
and that which was myself twenty years ago, I discern they
ate not two, but one and the same self.
But though consciousness of what is past does thus ascertain our personal identity to ourselves, yet, to say that it
makes personal identity, or is necessary to our being the
same persons, is to say, that a person has not existed a-single
moment, nor done one action, but what he can remember;
indeed none but what he reflects upon. And one should
really think it self-evident, that consciousness of personal
identity presupposes, and therefore cannot constitute, personal identity, any more than knowledge, in any other case,
can constitute truth, which it presupposes.
This wonderful mistake may possibly have arisen from
hence, that to be-endued with consciousness, is inseparable
from the idea of a person, or- intelligent being. For, this
might be expressed inaccurately thus)-that consciousness
makes personality; and from hence it might be concluded to
make personal identity. But though present consciousness
of what we at present do and feel, is necessary to our being
the persons we now are; yet present consciousness of past
actions, or feelings, is not necessary to our being the same
persons who performed those actions; or had those feelings.
The inquiry, what makes vegetables the same in the common acceptation of the word, does not appear to have any re
lation to this of personal identity; because the word same,
when applied to them and to persons, is not only applied to
different subjects, but it is also used in different senses. For
when a man swears to the same tree, as having stood fifty
years in the same place; he rimeans. only the same as to all the
purposes of property and uses of common life, and not that
the tree has beeti all that time. the same in the strict philosophical sense of the word. For he does not know whether
any one particle of the present tree be the same with any one
particle of the tree. which stood in the same place fifty years
ago. And if they have not one common particle of matter,
they cannot be the same tree, in the proper philosophic sense
of the word sante; it being evidently a contradiction in terms,
to say they are, when no part df their substance, and no one
of their properties, is the same; no part of their substance, by
the supposition; no one of their properties, because it is allowed that the same property cannot be transferred from one
substance to another. And therefore, when we say the identity or sameness of a plant consists in a continuation of tlhe
same.life communicated under the same organization, to a




g6e             OF PEI'SONAL IDENTITY.           twai.  3
number of particles of matter, whether the same or not, the
-word same, when applied to life and to organization, cannot possibly be understood to signify, what it signifies in this very sen.
tence, when applied to matter. In a loose and popular sense,
then, the life, and the organization, and the plant, are justly
said to be the same, notwithstanding the perpetual change of
the paits. But in a strict and philosophical manner of speech,
no man, no being, no mode of being, nor any thing, can be
tile same with that, with which it hath indeed nothing the
same.' Now, sameness is used in this latter sense when applied to persons. The identity of these, therefore, cannot subsist with diversity of substance.
The thing here considered, and demonstrativevly as I think,
determined, is proposed by Mr. Locke in these words, Whether
it, i. e. the same self or person, be the same identical substance? And he has suggested what is a much better an~ swer to the question than that which he gives it in form.
For he defines person, a thinking intelligent being,' &c. and
personal identity the sameness of a rational being.*  The'question then is, whether the same rational being is the same
substance; which needs no answer, because being and sub.
stance, in this place, stand for the same idea. The ground
of the doubt, whether the same person be the same substance
is said to be this; that the conlsciousness of our own existence
in youth and m old age, or in any two joint successive mo
ments, is not the same individual action,t i. e. not the same
consciousness, but different successive consciousnesses. Now
it is strange that this should have occasioned such perplexities. For it is surely conceivable, that a person may have
a capacity of knowing some object or other to be the same
now, which it was when he contemplated it formerly; yet,
in this case, where, by the supposition, the object is perceived
to be the same, the perception of it in afny two mnoments cannot be one and the same perception. And thus, though the
successive consciousnesses which we have of our own existence are not the same, yet are they consciousnesses of one
and the same thing or object; of the same person, self, or
living agent. The person, of whose existence the conscious.
ness's felt nov, and was felt an hour or a year ago, is discemed to be, not two persons, but one and the same person;
and therefore is one and the same.
Mr. Locke's observations upon this subject appear hasty;
Locke's Works, vol i. p. 146  t Lolcke, p. 1-4&6: 147.




W1S. L          OF PERSONAL IDENTITY.               26.1
and he. seems to profess himself dissatisfied with suppositions,
which he has made relating to it.- But some of those hasty
observations have been carried to a strange length by others;
whose notion, when traced and examined to the bottomi
amounts, I think, to this:t'That personality is not a perma
nent, but a transient thing: that it lives and dies, begins anJ
ends, continually: that no one can any more remain one and
the same person two moments together, than two successive
moments car. be one and the same moment: that our substance is indeed continually changing; but whether this'be
so or not, is, it seems, nothing to the purpose; since it is not
substance,.but consciousness alone, which constitutes'personality; which consciousness, being successive, cannot be the
same in any two moments, nor consequently the personality
constituted by it.' And from hence it must follow, that it is
a fallacy upon ourselves, to charge our present selves with
any thing we did, or to imagine our present selves interested
in any, thing which befell us yesterday, or that our present
self will be interested in what will befall us to-morrow; since
our present self is not, in reality, the same with the self of
yesterday, but another like self or person coming in its room,
and mistaken for it; to which another self will succeed tomorrow. This, I say, must follow: for if the self or person
of to-day, and that of to-morrow, are not the same, but only
like persons, the person of to-day is really no more interested
in what will befall the person of to-morrow, than in what will
befall any other person. It may be thought, perhaps, that
this is not a just representation of the opinion we are speaking
of; because those who maintain it allow, that a person is the
same as far back as his remembrance reaches. And, indeed,
they do use the words, identity and same person.  Nor will
language permit these words to be laid aside: since if they
were, there must be, I know not what, ridiculous periphrasis
substituted in the room of them.  But they cannot, consistently with themselves, mean, that the person is really the
same.  For it is self-evident, that the personality cannot be
really the same, if, as they expressly assert, that in which it
consists is not the same.  And as, consistently with themselves, they cannot, so, I think, it appears they do not, mean,
that the.person is really the same, but only that he is so in a
fictitious sense: in such a sense only as they assert; for this
* Locke, p. 152.
f See an answer to Dr. Clarke's third defence of his letter to Mr..Dodwel,:2d edit, p. 44, 56,'&c,




26$2            OF PERSONAL IDENTITY.          LDSM   I
they do assert, that any number of persons whatever may be
the same person. The bare unfolding this notion, and laying
it thus naked and open, seems the best confutation of it.
However, since great stress is said to be put upon it, I add
the following things;
First, This notion-is absolutely contradictory to that certain conviction, which necessarily, and every moment, rises
within us, when we turn our thoughts upon ourselves;' when
we reflect upon what is past, and look forward upon what:i
to come. All imagination of a daily change of that living
agent which each man calls himself, for another, or of any
such change throughout our whole present life,.is entirely
borne downr by our natural sense of things. Nor is it possible
for a person in his wits to alter his conduct, with regard to
his health or affairs, from a suspicion, that though he should
live to-morrow, he should not, however, be the same person
he is to-day. And yet, if it be reasonable to act, with respect
to a future life, upon this -notion, that personality is transient;
it is reasonable to act upon it, with respect to the present.
Here then is a notion equally applicable to religion and to
our temporal concerns; and every one sees and feels the inexpressible absurdity of it in the latter case. - If, therefore,
any can take up with it in the former, this cannot proceed
from the reason of the thing, but must be owing to an inward
unfairness, and secret corruption of heart.
Secondly, It is not an idea, or abstract notion, or quality,
but dC being only which is capable of life and action, of happi.
ness and misery. Now all beings confessedly continue the
same, during the whole time of their -existence. Consider
then a living being now existing, and which has existed for
any time alive: this living being must have done and suffered and enjoyed, what it has done and suffered and enjoyed
formerly, (this living being, I say, and not another,) as really
as it does and suffers and enjoys, what it does and suffers and
enjoys this instant. All these successive actions; enjoyments,
and sufferings, are actions, enjoyments, and sufferings, of the
same living being. And they are so, prior to all considera
tion of its remembering or forgetting; since remembering ot
forgetting can make no alteration in the truth of past matter
of fact. And suppose this being endued with limited- powers
of knowledge and memory, there is no more difficulty in conceiving it to have a power of knowing itself to be the same
living being which it was some time ago, of remembering
some of its actions, sufferings, and enjoyments, and forgetting




bms. U.]        oF PUrSO1AL ID9t1rTY.              2(3
others, than in conceiving it to know, or remember, or forget
any thing else.
Thirdly, Every person is conscious, that he is now the
same person or self he was, as far back as his remembrance
reaches; since, when any one reflects upon a past action of
his own, he is just as certain of the persoh who did that action,
namely himself, the person who now reflects upon it, as he is
certain that the action was at all done. Nay, -very often a person's assurance of an action having been done, of which he is
absolutely assured, arises wholly from the consciousness that
he himself did it. Arid this he, person, or self, must either be a
substance, or the property of some substance. If he, if person,
be a substance; then consciousness that he is the same person,.is consciousness that he is the same substance. If the
person, or he, be the property of a substance; still consciousness that he is the same property, is as certain a proof that
his substance remains the same, as consciousness that he re
mains the same substance would be; since the same property
cannot be transferred fromn one substance to another.
But though we are thus certain that we are the same
agents, living beings, or substances, now, which we were as
far back as our remembrance reaches; yet it is asked, whether
we may not possibly be deceived in it? And this question
may be asked at the end of any demonstration whatever; be.
cause it is a question concerning the truth of perception by
memory. And he who can doubt, whether perception by
memory can in this case be depended upon, may doubt also,
whether perception by deduction and xeasoning, which also
include memory, or, indeed, whether intuitive perception can.
Here then we can go no farther. For it is ridiculous to attempt to prove the truth of those perceptions, whose truth we
can no otherwise prove, than by other perceptions of exactly
the same kind with them, and which there is just the same
ground to suspect; or to attempt to prove the truth of our faculties, which can no otherwise be proved, than by the tse or
means of those very suspected faculties themselves.




2-.0.4         OF THr   SATUR  QF VIRTUE.. DI..
DISSERTATION II.
OF THE- NATURE OF VIRTUE.
TIAT which renders beings capable of moral government,
Is their having a moral nature, and moral faculties of percepl
tion and of action.  Brute creatures are impressed and actu.
ated by various instincts and propensions: so also are we,
But, additional to this, we have a capacity of reflecting upon
actions and characters, and making them an object to our
thoughts; and on doing this, we naturally and unavoidably
approve some actions, under the peculiar view of their being
virtuous and of good desert; and disapprove others, as vicious
and of ill desert.  That we have this moral approving and
disapproving- faculty, is certain from  our experiencing it in'ourselves, and recognisrng it in each other.  It appears from
our exercisin; it unavoidably, in the approbation and disapprobation even of feigned characters: from the words, right
and wrong, odious and amiable, base and worthy, with many
others of like signification in all languages, applied to actions
and characters: from  the many written systems of morals
which suppose it; since it cannot be imagined, that all these
authors, throughout all these treatises, had absolutely no
meaning at all to their words, or a mrreaning merely chimeriTlhis way of speaking is taken from Epictetts,t and is made use of
as seeming the most full, and least liable to cavil. And the moral fatitlty may be understood to have these two- epithets, 9oclpaafl#txC and
affrooMpaCrtlKl, upon a double account; because, upon a survey of actions, whether before or after they are done, it determines them to be
good or evil; and also because it determines itself to be the guide ofac.
tion and of life, in contradistinction from all other faculties, or natural principles of action: in the very same manner, as speculative reason directly
and. naturally judges of speculative truth and falsehood; and, at the
same time, is attended with a consciousness upon reflection, that the; patural right to judge of them belongs to it.
t Arr. Epict. lib. i. cap. 1.




S-.:n, ] o OF; TH  NA1VStSt OrF t'VTS.                6
cal: from our natural sense of gratitude, which implies a distinction between merely being the instrument of good, and
intending it: from the like distinction, every one makes, between injury and mere harm, which Hobbes says, is peculiar
to mankind; and between injury and just punishmnfent, a distinction plainly natural, prior to the consideration of human'
laws. It is manifest, great part of common language, and of
common behaviour over the world, is formed upon supposition
of such a moral faculty; whether called conscience, moral
reason, moral sense, or divine reason; whether considered as
a sentiment of the understanding, or as a perception of the
heart, or, which seems the truth, as including both. Nor is
it at all doubtful in the general, what course of action this
faculty, or practical discerning power within us, approves,.and what it disapproves, For, as much as it has been' dis,
puted wherein virtue consists, or whatever ground for doubt
there may be about particulars, yet, in general, there is in
reality a universally acknowledged standard of it. It is that,
which all ages and all countries have made profession of in
public; it is that, which every man you meet, puts on the
show of; it is that, which the primary and fundamental laws
of all civil constitutions, over the face of the earth, make it
their business and endeavour to enforce the practice of upon
mankind; namely, justice, veracity, and regard to common
good. It being manifest then, in general, that we have such
a faculty or discernment as this, it may be of use to remark
some things; more distinctly concerning it.
First, It ought to be'observed, that the object of this fa
culty is actions,- comprehending'under that name1 active or
practical principles; those principles from which mrren would
act, if occasions and circumstances gave them  power; and
which, when fixed and habitual in any person, we call, his
character.  It does- not appear, that' butes have the least
reflex sense of actions, as distinguished from events; or-that
wil- and design, which constitute the very nature of actions
as such, are at all an object to their perception.  But to ours
they are; and they are the object, and the only one, of the
approving and disapproving faculty.  Acting, conduct, behaviour, abstracted from all regard to what is, in fact and
event, the consequence of it, is itself the natural object of the
moral discernment, as speculative truth and falsehood is of
* ova 1 apqrn Kart KaKia-ev aewaEc, aXXa vepyua. M. Anton 1. 9 X&
YVrtutis laus omnis in actione consistit. (Jic. Of  Id 1. e.,:8
12




208:;a tolti0:    -AttUfl  O  V'IRTU.  DISC.',
speculative reason. Intention of such and such consequences,
indeed, is always included; for it is part of the action itself:
but though the intended good or bad consequences do not
follow, we have exactly the same sense of the action as if
they did. In like manner, we think well or ill of characters,
abstracted frorrm all consideration of the good or the evil, which
persons of such characters have it actually in their power to
do. We never, in the moral way, applaud or blame either
ourselves or others, for what we enjoy or what we suffer, or
for having impressions made upon us which we consider as
altogether out of our power; but only for what we do, or
would have done, had it beeh in our power; or for what we
leave und6ne which we might have done, or would have left
undone though we could have done it.
Secondly, Our sense or discernment of actions, as morally
good or evil, implies in it a sense or discernment of them as of
good or ill desert. It may be difficult to explain this perception, so as to answer all the questions which may be asked
concerning it; but every one speaks of such and such actions
as deserving punishment; and it is not, I suppose, pretended,
that they have, absolutely no meaning at all to the expression. Now, the meaning plainly is, not that we conceive it
for the good of society, that the doer of such actions, should
be made to suffer. For if unhappily it were resolved, that a
man who, by some innocent action. was infected' with the
plague, should be left to perish, lest, by other people coming
near him, the infection should spread; no one would say, he
deserved this treatment. Ihnocence and ill desert are inconsistent ideas. Ill desert always supposes guilt; and if one
be not part of the other, yet they are.evidently and naturally
connected in our mind. The sight of a man in misery raises
our: compassion towards him; and, if this misery be inflicted
on him by another, our indignation against the author of it.
But when we are informed, that the sufferer is a villain, and
is punished only for his treachery or cruelty; our compassion
exceedingly lessens, and, in many instances, our indignation
wholly subsides. Now, what produces this effect, is the conception of that in the sufferer, which we call ill desert. Upoll
considering then, or viewing together, our notion of vice and
that of misery, there results a third, that of ill desert. And
thus there is in human creatures an association of the two
ideas, natural and moral evil, wickedness and punishment.
If this association were merely artificial or accidental, it were
nothing; but being most unquestionably natural, it greatly




DISS. nt]      d1 THE NATURE OF VIRTUE.            267
concerns us to attend to it, instead of endeavoring to explain
it away.
It may be observed farther, concerning our perception of
good and of ill desert, that the former is very weak with
respect to common instances of virtue. One reason of which
may be, that it does not appear lA a spectator, how far such
instances of virtue proceed from a virtuous principle, or in
what degree this principle is prevalent; since a very weak
regard to virtue may be sufficient to make men act well in
many common instances. And on the other hand, out perception of ill desert in vicious actions lessens, in proportion to
the temptations men are thought to have had to such vices.
For, vice in human creatures consisting chiefly in the'absence
or want of the virtuous principle, though a man be overcome,
suppose,: by tortures, it does not from thence appear, to what
degree the virtuous principle was wanting. All that appears,
is that he had it not in such a degree, as to prevail over the
temptation; but possibly he had it in a degree, which would
have rendered him proof against common temptations.
Thirdly, Our perception of vice and ill deserts arises from,
and is the-result of,. a comparison of actions with the nature
and capacities of the agent. For, the mere neglect of doing
what we ought to do, would, in many cases, be determined by
all men to be in the highest degree vicious. And this determination must arise from such comparison, and be the result
of it; because such neglect would not be vicious in creatures
of other natures and capacities, as brutes. And it is the same
also with respect to positive vices, or such as consist in doing
what we ought not. For, every one has a different sense of
harm done by an idiot, madman, or child, and by one of mature
and common understanding; though the action of both,
including the intention, which is part of the action, be the
same: as it may be, since idiots and madmen, as well as
children, are capable, not only of doing mischief, but also of
intending it. Now, this difference must arise from somewhat
discerned in the nature or capacities of one, which renders the
action vicious; and the want of which in the other, renders
the same action innocent, or less vicious: and this plainly
supposes a comparison, whether reflected upon or not, between
the action andcapacities of the agent, previous to our determining an action to be vicious. And hence arises a proper
application of the epithets, incongruous, unsuitable, disproportionate, unfit, to actio-rs which our moral faculty determines
to be vicious.




-V8.OFi-THE NATURE OF VIRTUE.        [DIdS. IL
Fourthly,' It deserves to be considered, whether men are
more at liberty, in point of morals, to make themselves miserable without reason, than to make other people so;' or disso.
lutely to neglect their own greater good, for the sake of a
present lesser gratification, than they are to neglect the good
of others, whom nature has committed to their care. It
should seem, that a due concern about our owf interest or
happiness, and a reasonable endeavor to secure and promote
it, which is, I think, very much the meaning of the.word
pirudence in our language; it should seem, that this is virtue,
and the contrary behaviour faulty and blameable: since, in
the calmest way of reflection, we approve of the first, and
condemn the other conduct, both in ourselves and others.
This approbation and disapprobation are altogether different
from mere desire of our own, or of their happiness, and fiom
sorrow upon missing it.  For the object or occasion of this
last kind of perception, is satisfaction or uneasiness; whereas
the object of the first is active behaviour. In one case, what
our thoughts fix upon is our condition; in the other, our conduct. It- is true, indeed, that nature has not given us so sensible a disapprobation of imprudence and folly, either in ourselves or others, as of falsehood, injustice, and cruelty; I
suppose, because that constant habitual sense of private interest and good, which we always carry about with us, renders
such sensible disapprobation less necessary, less wanting, to
keep us from imprudently neglecting our own happiness, and
foolishly injuring ourselves, than it is necessary and wanting
to keep us from injuring others, to whose good we cannot have
so strong and constant a regard; and also, because imprudence and folly, appearing to bring its own punishment, more
immediately and constantly than injurious behaviour, it less
needs the additional punishment which would be inflicted upon
it bv others, had they the same sensible indignation against it.
as against injustice, and fraud, and cruelty.  Besides, unhap.
piness being in itself the- natural object of compassion, the
unhappiness which people bring upon themselves, though it
be wilfully, excites in us some pity for them; and this, of
course, lessens our displeasure against them. But still it is
matter of experience, that we are formed so as to reflect very
severely upon the greater instances of imprudent neglect and
foolish rashness, both in ourselves and others. In instances
of this kind, men often say; of themselves with remorse, and
of others with some indignation, that they deserve to suffer
such calamities, because they brought them upon themselves




~i8UiIJ.]    OF THE NATURE OFVIRTUE.             269
and would not take warning. Particularly when persons
come to poverty and distress by a long course of extravagance, and'after frequent admonitions, though without falsehood or injustice; we plainly do not regard such people as
like objects of compassion, with those who are brought into
the same condition by unavoidable accidents. From these
things it appears, that prudence is a species of virtue, and
folly of vice: meaning byfoUy, somewhat quite different from
mere incapacity; a thoughtless want of that regard and
attention to otur own happiness, which we had capacity for.
And this the word properly includes, and, as it seems, in its
usual acceptation; for we scarce apply it to brute creatures.
However, if any person be disposed to dispute the matter,
I shall very willingly give him up the words virtue and vice,
as not applicable to prudence and folly; but must beg leave
to insist, that the faculty within us, which is the judge of actions, approves of prudent actions and disapproves imprudent
ones; I say, prudent and imprudent actions as such, and considered distinctly from the happiness or misery which they
occasion. And by the way, this observation may help to
determine, what justness there is in that objection against religion, that it teaches us to be interested and selfish.
Fifihly, Without inquiring how far, and in what sense,
virtue is resolvable into benevolence, and vice into the want
of it; it may be proper to observe, that benevolence, and the
want of it, singly considered, are in no sort the whole of virtue
and vice. F~ ir this were the case, in the review of one's
own character,'or that of others, our moral understanding
and moral sense would be indifferent to every thinfg, but the
degrees in which benevolence prevailed, and the degrees in
which it was wanting. That is, we should never approve of
benevolence to some persons rather than to others, nor disap.
prove injustice and falsehood upon any other account, than
merely as an overbalance of happiness was foreseen likely to
be produced by the first, and of misery by the second. But
now, on the contrary, suppose two men competitors for any
thing whatever, which would be of equal advantage to each
of them; though nothing indeed would be more impeltinent,
than for a stranger to busy himself to get one of them preferred to the other; yet such endeavor would be virtue, in behalf
of a friend or benefactor, abstracted from all consideration of
distant consequences: as that example of gratitude, and the
cultivation of friendship, would be of general good to the
world. Again, suppose one man should, by fraud or violence




'o0            Or THE"NATURE OF VIRTUE. [* DS. il
take from another the fruit of his labor with intent to give it to
a third, who, he thought, would have as much pleasure from
it as'would balance the pleasure which the first possessor
would have had in the enjoyment, and his vexation in the loss
of it: suppose also, that no bad consequences would follow;
yet such an action would surely be vicious. Nay, farther,
were treachery, violence, and injustice, no otherwise vicious,
than as foreseen likely to produce an overbalance of misery to
society.; then, if- in any case a man could procure to himself
as great advantage by an act of injustice, as the whole foreseen inconvenience, likely to be brought upon others by it,
would amount to, such a piece of injustice would not be faulty
or vicious at all; because it would be no more than, in any
other case, for a man to prefer his own satisfaction to another's
in equal degrees. - The fact then appears to be, that We are
constituted so as to condemn falsehood, unprovoked violence,
injustice, and to approve of benevolence to some preferably to.others, abstracted from all consideration which conduct is
likeliest to produce an overbalance of happiness or misery.
And therefore, were the author of nature to propose nothing
to himself as an end but the production' of happiness, were
his moral character merely -that of benevolence; yet ours is
not so. Upon that supposition, indeed, the only reason of his
giving us the above-mentioned approbation of benevolence to
some persons rather than to others, and disapprobation of
falsehood, unprovoked violence, arnc injustice, must be, that he
foresaw this constitution of our nattire would produce more
happiness, than forming us with a temper of mere general
benevolence. But still, since this is our constitution, falsehood, violence, injustice, must be vice in us, and benevolence
to some preferably to others, virtue, abstracted from all consi.
deration of the overbalance of evil or good which they may
appear likely to produce.
Now, if human creatures are endued with such a moral
nature as we have been explaining, or with a moral faculty,
the natural object of which is actions; moral government
must consist -in rendering them  hapipy and unhappy, in
rewarding and punishing them, as they follow, neglect, or
depart from, the moral rule of action interwoven in their
nature, or suggested and enforced by this moral faculty;* in
rewarding and punishing them upon account of their so doing.
I am not sensible that I have, in this fifth observation, conAtradioted what any author designed to assert. But some of
+* Pat ii;'. hap. 6.




*.I.l,@ ]       t OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE,        271
great and distinguished merit havie, I think, expressed them.
selves in a manner, which  may occasion some danger to careless readers, of imagining the whole of virtue to consist in
singly aiming, according to the best of their judgment, at
promoting the happiness of mankind in the present state;
and the whole of vice, in doing what they foresee, or might
foresee, is likely to produce an overbalance of unhappiness in
it; than which mistakes, none can be conceived more terrible.
For it is certain, that some of the most shocking instances of
injustice, adultery, murder, perjury, and even of persecution,
may, in many supposable cases, not have the appearance of
being likely to produce an overbalance of misery in the present staite; perhaps sometimes may have the contrary appearance.  For this reflection might easily be carried on; but I
forbear.-The happiness of the world is- the concern of
Him, who is the Lord and the proprietor of it; nor do we
know what we are about, when we endeavor to promote the
good of mankind in any ways but those which he has directed; that is, indeed, in all ways not contrary to veracity and
justice. I speak thus upon supposition of persons really
endeavoring, in some sort, to do good without regard to these.
But the truth seems to be, that such supposed endeavors proceed, almost always, from ambition, the spirit of party, or
some indirect principle, concealed perhaps in great measure
from persons themselves. And though it is our business and
our duty to endeavor, within the bounds of veracity and jus.
tice, to contribute to the ease, convenience, and even cheerfulntss and diversion of our fellow-creatures; yet, from our short
views, it is greatly uncertain whether this endeavor will, in
particular instances, produce ah overbalance of happiness
upon the whole; since so many and distant things must come
into the account. And that which makes it our duty, is, that
there is some appearance that it will, and no positive appearance sufficient to balance this, on the contrary side; and also,
that such benevolent endeavor is a cultivation of that most
excellent of all virtuous principles, the active principle of benevolence.
However, though veracity, as well as justice, is to be or.
rule of life, it must be added, otherwise a snare will be laid i,
~,he way of some plain men, that the use of common forins of
speech generally understood, cannot be falsehood; and, in
general, that there can be no designed falsehood without designing to deceive. It must lkwtise be observed, that, in
numberless cases, a map may be undPr the strictest obligations




M>72         O"- tRW!ATIRA   Ot vIMEM.        [    ft, X,
to what he foresees will deceive, without his intending it. For
it s3 impossible not to foresee, that the words and actions of
men in different ranks and employments, and of different educations, will perpetually be mistaken by each otlier; and it
cannot but be so, whilst they will judge with the utmost carelessness, as they daily did, of what they are not, perhaps,
enough informed to be competent judges o& even though they
wnsidered it with freat.tteation.