C8* 
 
 CY5 
 
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 LIBRARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, 
 
 Received SeptemMr, i88 5. 
 
 A c cess ions No . ^/^/^C Shelf No. 
 
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 ISHOF SAI^BFOR© 
 
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 I 
 
CHRISTIAN POLITICS. 
 
 IN FOUR TARTS. 
 
 BY 
 
 ELY BATES, ESQ. 
 
 Chose admirable! La region Cliretiemie- qiii ne semble avoir 
 d'objet que la felicite de I'autie vie, fait encore noUe boiilieur dans 
 celle-ci. 
 
 MONTESQUIEU; ESPRIT DES LOIX, LIV. XXiv. CH. 3. 
 
 LO^'DON: 
 
 PRINTED BY C. WHITTINGHAM, 
 Dean Street, Fetttr Lant ; 
 
 FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME, PATERNOSTER-ROW. 
 
 1806. 
 

 7^'} 6 
 
 / 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 ^OME years ago the Author published 
 a few brief reflections, entitled, A Cursory 
 View of Civil Government. Upon this tract 
 he has exercised the same right ivith that of a 
 man, tuho, having built a house ivhich after- 
 ivards lie finds small and inconvenient, pulls it 
 down, to erect a larger and more commodious 
 one in its stead; at the same time endeavouring, 
 with a prudent economy, to make the best use 
 he can of the old materials. This seemed neces^ 
 sary to be premised, for the sake of a very few 
 readers, who may have met with the above tract ; 
 to others, it can be no point either of curiosity or 
 conseqiience. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 After many able attempts of political 
 writers to show the influence of civil go- 
 vernment upon the power and wealth of 
 nations, I here presume to offer to the 
 world a few thoughts upon the relation it 
 bears to objects of far more importance, 
 and from which all others must derive their 
 value. 
 
 Whoever shall look back on the extraor- 
 dinary state of human affairs, a few years 
 ago, when the whole frame of society seem- 
 ed almost in danger of a dissolution, from 
 the mischievous ferments occasioned by some 
 novel principles of political and moral phi- 
 losophy, will, I think, readily allow, that 
 an endeavour to prevent a return of such 
 disorders, by leading men to a view of their 
 
^-'-' 
 
 [ vi ] 
 
 essential duties and interest, has some title, 
 though from the pen of an obscure citizen, 
 to a degree of public indulgence. 
 
 Should there be any reader who shall 
 feel himself disappointed, by finding nothing 
 that is not already familiar to his reflections 
 in the ensuing strictures, he will be pleased 
 to remember, that many readers may not 
 be equally furnished with himself; that 
 every man is not in a like habit and train 
 of thinking ; and that it is incident even to 
 the greatest minds to lose sight of the end 
 in attending to the means, especially when 
 these happen to be such as are suited power- 
 fully to strike the imagination, and interest 
 the passions, which is frequently the case 
 of political subjects and discussions. The 
 debates of senates, the councils of princes, 
 the arrangements of war and peace, are 
 matters of so great a sound, and carry in 
 their front such a show of consequence, 
 that few are able so far to resist the im- 
 
[ vii ] 
 
 pression, as to regard them with a steady 
 reference to their proper use, namely, the 
 advancement of the real virtue and hap- 
 piness of mankind ; which is the only just 
 end of all human purposes and endeavours. 
 To recal and attach the attention to this 
 great object; to explain its connection with 
 civil politj^, and of both with rehgion; 
 again, to state the reasons there are for con- 
 tentment under any moderate government, 
 and to enforce a due regard and submission 
 to the actual government under which we 
 live; and, lastly, (seeing the effects of political 
 wisdom, in its greatest efforts, and operating 
 in the most favourable circumstances, are 
 very limited and uncertain) to point out 
 independent sources of enjoyment under 
 all governments, and in all situations, is the 
 design of the present work ; which, if mo- 
 derately executed, can hardly fail to yield 
 some profit both to the political and the 
 christian reader. 
 
[ viii J 
 
 Should we suppose some statesman (as 
 we may suppose any thing that is not im- 
 possible) sufficiently inclined and at leisure 
 to cast an eye on the following pages ; 
 though they would probably add nothing to 
 his stock of political science, they might 
 suggest to him a train of reflections in which 
 he was far more interested, and which before 
 might seldom have engaged his attention. 
 From the transient and varying regulations 
 of municipal law, and of the law of na- 
 tions, he might be led to eternal and immu- 
 table morality ; and from the feebleness 
 and imperfection of human government, 
 to the perfection and potency of the di- 
 vine. 
 
 Should the reader be of a more religious 
 character, he may learn from the perusal 
 of this volume, while he seeks the kingdom 
 of God, to pay a due regard to the ordinances 
 of men ; and while he prepares himself for 
 the society of angels and of the spirits of the 
 
jtist, to be studious of the peace and welfare 
 of the society of which he is now a mem- 
 ber. Thus may tlie secular pohtician learn 
 to be a better christian, and the christian 
 to be a better subject than he was before. 
 
 To contribute in any measure to these 
 happy effects; to convince, though it were 
 but a single individual among his country- 
 men, of the special obligation he is under 
 both to be a good subject and a good chris- 
 tian ; as it is the most earnest wish of the 
 author, so he has endeavoured, in order 
 to gain his end, to place his country in the 
 fairest light that truth will admit. And if 
 there be any reflections in the ensuing work 
 which may seem to cast a shade over the 
 present state of our public affairs, either 
 civil or religious, and to raise ominous con- 
 jecture respecting our future destiny, this, 
 it is hoped, will neither be made an ob- 
 jection to the work itself^ nor to the design 
 with which it was written ; but that it will 
 
[ ^ ] 
 
 rather excite the reader to use his utmost 
 endeavours to avert the omen, and to em- 
 ploy every measure in his power, that may 
 tend both to secure and advance the general 
 welfare. 
 
 In excuse for the number and length of 
 the quotations may be alleged the opinion 
 of some competent judges, who have thought, 
 that every book should contain as few bare 
 references as possible to other books ; since 
 these might either not be found at hand, 
 or, if at hand, might, by the very act of 
 turning to them, unseasonably divert the 
 reader's attention. It is to obviate these 
 inconveniences (which the writer himself 
 has often experienced) and not merely to 
 swell the volume, that, instead of a bare 
 reference, the passage itself is commonly 
 produced ; and it is hoped that such readers 
 as find this precaution unnecessary, will 
 pardon it in favour of others who are less 
 provided. ^J 
 
[ xi ] 
 
 What may be tlie success of this imper- 
 fect essay, the author is not prepared to 
 hazard a conjecture. On the one hand, 
 he is encouraged by the indulgent manner 
 in Avhich a former work * was received by 
 the pubHc; while, on the other, he is 
 checked by a sense of his deficiencies, espe- 
 cially on a subject where he is less in pos- 
 session of that near and actual experience, 
 which in all practical cases is the great 
 master. This however is not meant as a 
 plea for his book, should it be found, on 
 the whole, a bad one, but as a reason why 
 it is not better ; and he trusts it may induce 
 the reader's favourable allowance, that, in- 
 stead of a bold demand upon his justice, 
 he thus comes forward with a modest appeal 
 to his candour and generosity. 
 
 But though the author readily waves all 
 
 * Rural Philosophi/y or Reflections on Knowledge, 
 Virtue, and Happiness, chiefly in reference to a life of 
 retirement in the country. 
 
[ xii ] 
 
 challenges and pretensions on the score of 
 abilities, he would presume to put in his claim 
 for a share of moderation and impartiality; 
 and this claim, he flatters himself, will not 
 be refused by such as are themselves distin- 
 guished for these qualities. From the vio- 
 lent of all parties, whether they are prero- 
 gative tories or republican whigs, high 
 churchmen or rigid dissenters, or under 
 whatever name or ensign they appear, he 
 can expect no particular favour, nor even 
 scarce indulge a hope, that he shall entirely 
 escape their censure. Leaving such, there- 
 fore, to their own way, till further reflection 
 or experience may lead them to a better, 
 it is to those free and independent spirits, 
 who know how to prefer the whole to a 
 part, and to steer a middle course both in 
 church and state, that, next to the patron- 
 age of heaven, he looks for support and 
 countenance; and it is by their judgment 
 that he is willing to stand or fall. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 CONTAINING A VIEW OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT IN 
 ITS INFLUENCE ON VIRTUE AND HAPPINESS, 
 CHIEFLY FROM THE RELATION IT BEARS TO 
 LIBERTY AND PROPERTY. 
 
 Page 
 Sect. I. — A general Sketch of Man, the Subject to he 
 
 governed 1 
 
 Sect. II. — Of the immediate Ends of civil Government, 
 and how far they are attainable 22 
 
 Sect. III. — An Estimate of the Influence of civil Govern- 
 ment on Virtue and Happiness, from the Relation it 
 bears to Liberty 49 
 
 Sect. IV.— Ow Moral Liberty 69 
 
 Sect. V. — The Influence of civil Government on Virtue 
 and Happiness, from the Relation it bears to Pro- 
 perty 82 
 
 Sect. VI. — In which it is considered, how far the favour- 
 able Aspect of Wealth on the liberal Arts and Sciences, 
 may be urged in Abatement of what has been advanced 
 in the last Section > 102 
 
 Sect. VII.— O/i the Savage and Civilized State of Man... 112 
 
t xiv ] 
 
 PART IL 
 
 On the importance of religion, both to 
 society and the individual >vith reflec- 
 tions on religious establishments and 
 toleration. 
 
 Page 
 Sect. I. — On the Importance of Religior,both to Society 
 
 and the Indiviaual 125 
 
 Sect. II. — On Toleration without an Ei,tablishment 150 
 
 Sect. III. — Of an Establishment without Toleration l65 
 
 Sect. IV. — Of an Establishment together with a Tolera- 
 tion , and this either complete or partial 193 
 
 Sect. V. — On the most effectual Methods by which an 
 Established Church may support herself under a com- 
 plete Toleration 209 
 
 PART III. 
 
 ON THE CONDUCT OF A GOOD CITIZEN, PARTICULARLY 
 UNDER ANY MODERATE GOVERNMENT. 
 
 Sect. I. — To guard against any wrong Impressions he 
 might receive from new and plausible political The- 
 ories; and to regulate his Expectations by what is 
 obvious and practicable in the present State of human 
 Nature, and the existing Circumstances of public 
 Affairs 2^3 
 
[ XV ] 
 
 Page 
 Sect. II. — To distingvisk real political Evils from ima- 
 
 , giriari/ onesy and from those varioKS Evils which arise 
 
 out of the common Condition of Man in this World : 
 
 Also, Not to aggravate or rashly oppose the First ; 
 
 to dismiss the Second ; and to suffer patiently the 
 
 Last 277 
 
 ^ect. III. — To avoid an idle Curiosity in political Mat- 
 ters ; and still more a Disposition to hunt after small 
 or unknown Grievances , 294- 
 
 Sect. IV. — To beware of any unnecessary or hasty At' 
 tachment, and still more of a blind Devotion to any 
 Party whatever, either in Politics or Religion 3l6 
 
 Sect. V. — Lastly : Never forwardly to urge his public 
 Claims or Pretensions, nor beyond what the common 
 Good may require ; and when this, on the IVliole, is 
 provided for, to rest satisfied in the quiet and faithful 
 Discliarge of the Duties of his present Station ....... 336 
 
 PART IF, 
 
 ON THE WAY TO LIVE HAPPILY UNDER ALL GO- 
 VERNMENTS, AND IN ALL SITUATIONS. 
 
 Sect. I. — The Foundation of the Happiness here proposed, 
 must be laid in Peace of Conscience ^ and in holy and 
 well-regulated Affections 357 
 
 Sect. 11. — The Doctrine of Providence a chief Topic of 
 Comfort to good Men Z6q 
 
[ xvi ] 
 
 Page 
 
 Sect. III. — On the Importance of distinguishing Provi-^ 
 dence from Necessity 391 
 
 Sect. IV. — Containing some relieving Considerations , 
 drawn from particular Topics ;— from the Pliability 
 of Man to his external Situation ;— from the great and 
 goad Examples frequently displayed in a hostile Pe- 
 riod; — and from the general Vanity and Unimportance 
 of the World 412 
 
 Sect. V. '—Relieving Considerations, amidst the many 
 literary, political, and religious Contentions that so 
 often agitate human Life ; with some concluding Re- 
 flections >..,....,..... 424> 
 
CHRISTIAN POLITICS. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 CONTAINING A VIEW OF CIVIL GOVERN- 
 MENT IN ITS INTLUENCE ON VIRTUE 
 AND HAPPINESS, CHIEFLY FROM THE 
 
 RELATION iJ^it^KE5?5Raj;>j:0 LIBERTY AND 
 PROPERTY^ 
 
 ECTION I. 
 
 A General Sketch of Man, the Subject to be 
 
 governed. 
 
 TO determine the practical efficiency of 
 any art, it is necessary to consider, 
 besides the art abstractedly in itself^ the 
 materials with which it is provided. For 
 want of this it happens, that our most in- 
 genious projects seldom succeed to the ex- 
 tent of our expectations, and that sometimes 
 
 B 
 
2 General S/iCtch of Man. [Parti. 
 
 they are found utterly impracticable. In 
 speculative mechanics, it is demonstrated 
 that the smallest power may be so applied 
 as to balance the greatest weight; yet no 
 engine can be constructed that will put an 
 atom in equilibrium with a mountain ; nor 
 can anv skill in arcliitecture erect a house 
 as commodious and durable with mud and 
 straw, as with good brick and cement : so 
 likewise the political art is limited in its 
 effects by the subject on which it operates, 
 namely, man, his natural powers and moral 
 dispositions. 
 
 Some who have formed flattering ideas 
 of their own species, are forward to charge 
 the miseries of society chiefly on defective 
 lemslation. Thev will not allow that anv 
 incurable perverseness iii human nature is 
 perpetually thwarting, and oftentimes de- 
 feating, the end of the best institutions. On 
 the contrarj% tliey affect to persuade us, 
 that, were a right S3^stem of polity establish- 
 ed, but few evils would remain to disturb 
 human life ; neither poverty, nor toil, nor 
 oppression would any longer be known ; 
 e\erv one would sit contented under his 
 
Sect, i.] General SketcJi of Man. 3 
 
 oxen vine and Jig-tree, in all the dignity of 
 independence. 
 
 Though it is not probable this was ever 
 seriously believed, yet men being generally 
 dissatisfied with their condition, and un- 
 Avilling to discover the cause in themselves, 
 they are disposed to seek it in things around 
 them, and sometimes boldly to resolve it 
 into the unhajjpy state of the [)ublic. The 
 inequity and })a]tial execution of the laws, 
 the expence of government, the corruption 
 and incapacity of ministers, the inadeqnate 
 representation of the people, the discourage- 
 ment of commerce, and the want of gene- 
 ral hberty and equality, are perversely re- 
 presented as the great sources of private 
 
 calamitv. 
 
 That the happiness of every member of 
 civil society is partly dependent on its go- 
 vernment and laws, cannot justly be dis- 
 puted ; nor that it is the duty of those who 
 are entrusted with tlie care of the public, 
 to do all in their power to promote its wel- 
 lare; — bv relieving' its burdens; bv dulv 
 enforcing former regulations, and framing 
 such as are wanting; for it is not to be sup- 
 
 B 2 
 
4 General Sketch of Man, [Part i. 
 
 posed that any nation ever yet arrived at 
 that pitch of pohtical perfection, as not to 
 be capable of further improvements. 
 
 But while the ruler is proposing to him- 
 self the best models, and endeavouring to 
 copy them as closely as possible, the subject 
 should learn to regulate his expectations by 
 what is practicable in the existing circum- 
 stances ; he should consider, that all Utopian 
 theories, however pleasing in contempla- 
 tion, are dangerous in their tendency ; as, 
 by laying a ground for disappointment, 
 they are calculated to generate secret dis- 
 contents, which may proceed to open mur- 
 murs, to seditions, to rebellions, to anarch}^ 
 and ruin. Every man, therefore, should 
 beware how he listens to such fantastic 
 theories as may lead him to sacrifice real 
 blessings to delusive hopes, and thus to lose 
 the substance by catching at the shadow. 
 
 Let us then endeavour calmly to consider^ 
 not what might be done if men were what 
 they ought to be, disposed to universal 
 benevolence, and directed by reason and 
 justice; or how much the happiness of so- 
 ciety might be advanced and secured, if 
 
Sect, i.] General Sketcli of Man » 5 
 
 rulers were always wise and patriotic, and 
 subjects cheerfully submissive to just autho- 
 rity ; but what is fairly to be expected in 
 the present actual state of human nature. 
 
 A few general strictures on man may 
 therefore not unfitly introduce the follow- 
 ing discourse. 
 
 1. Man, at his entrance into the world, 
 is little superior to a mere animal. His 
 pains and his pleasures are confined to his 
 senses ; if these are gratified, he is at rest ; 
 if craving, he is unquiet and clamorous ; 
 his appetites are under no direction from 
 reason or choice, and the infant flies to his 
 mother^s breast at the single impulse of na- 
 ture, as the young of other animals to the 
 dug ; or, if deprived of his proper nourish- 
 ment, he manifests the same kind of un- 
 easiness. 
 
 After a short time, however, he must be 
 diverted as well as fed ; and his rattle will 
 become hardly less necessary to keep him 
 in good humour, than the satisfying of his 
 hunger. 
 
 From this early power of the senses arises 
 the great difficulty of education. Before 
 
6 General ShctcJi of Man, [Parti. 
 
 the mind has ^vell arrived at a capacity of 
 instruction, it is preoccupied with the ideas 
 of animal gratification and infantine amuse- 
 ment, whicli, by constantly sohciting the 
 attention, often render it an office of much 
 labour and patience to imprint the first 
 rudiments of learning. 
 
 As imagination gathers force, the influ- 
 ence of sensible objects is further augmented. 
 This made faculty will lend a charm to the 
 m.erest trifles ; and to a child of six years 
 old, convert a hobbyhorse or a puppet- 
 show into objects as delightful, as the pride 
 of equipage or the enchantment of a 
 masquerade are to children more advanced. 
 Thus the love of pleasure, and the passions 
 in general, are wonderfully promoted by 
 this illusory power, which, by a silent and 
 rapid progress, often gains a dangerous 
 ascendancy before reason has acquired 
 strength to resist its course. 
 
 When the season of youth arrives, in 
 which nature inflames the imagination, and 
 is inflamed by it to the hioliest deoree, the 
 love of pleasure commonly works with im- 
 petuous violence ; nor does its rage always 
 
Sect. I.] General Skctcli of Man, 7 
 
 terminate at tliis period ; it continues fre- 
 quently through middle life, and sometimes 
 pursues imhappy mortals to that season 
 when the powers of gratification are en- 
 feebled and broken. To estimate its strength, 
 let us for a moment consider the several 
 mounds and barriers Avhich, in its passage, 
 it forces or surmounts. 
 
 It overbears all regard to temporal in- 
 terest. How often will a young man, with 
 the brightest prospect of success before him, 
 be drawn aside by the lure of sensual in- 
 dulgence from the road of sober industry, 
 to wander in forbidden paths, in spite of 
 every remonstrance of his friends, or the 
 secret bodings of his own mind, that his 
 rovinsis will end in poverty or a jail ! Nor 
 is it onh" in preventing the acquisition of 
 wealth that the seduction of pleasure ope- 
 rates; it also consumes many a fair inhe- 
 ritance ; families that have shone with lus- 
 tre for ages are thus sometimes suddenly 
 eclipsed ; and those who were born to splen- 
 did expectations, compelled to hire out 
 themselves for bread. 
 
 It overbears all regard to reputation. 
 
\ 
 
 8 General Sketch of Man, [Part i. 
 
 This is the more observable, because a man 
 may run to great excesses, may violate all 
 the laws of sobriety and decency that are 
 not adopted into the code of fashion, without 
 forfeiting his character in the world. And 
 yet such often is the madness of appetite, 
 that it will brook no restraint whatever, 
 divine or human; will both provoke the 
 displeasure of heaven, and the disgrace and 
 contempt of men. 
 
 It will also surmount all regard to health, 
 and to life itself What numbers are thus 
 made to pine away in disease, and brought 
 untimely to their graves, must strike the most 
 careless observation. And if we inquire 
 into our public executions, many of the 
 wretched sufferers will be found among the 
 victims of pleasure. 
 
 In the last place, it is commonly an over- 
 match for reason in its highest improvement. 
 It might have been expected that, after the 
 first fervours of imagination were abated, 
 the intellectual power would gradually have 
 assumed its just dominion over the propen- 
 sities of animal nature. Instead of this, 
 even after a long training in the schools of 
 
Sect, i.] General Sketch of Man, 9 
 
 philosophers, and the further instruction of 
 experience, it is often found degraded into 
 a mean spy for appetite, or a suborned ad- 
 vocate to justify its excesses. Among the 
 most celebrated heathen sages, we meet with 
 few without a taint of gross depravity ; and 
 what is a more awful illustration of this 
 argument, he who has been accounted the 
 wisest of mankind, who, in addition to the 
 highest human endowments, enjoyed the 
 advantages of divine revelation, fell a prey 
 to his sensual passions ! 
 
 Under this head may be ranked the love 
 of ease ; a principle of such deep root in 
 human nature, that persons of the most 
 active disposition are not entirely exempt 
 from its influence, while over some others 
 it reigns with an uncontroled despotism. 
 So dear was this principle in the eyes of 
 Epicurus, fhat he preferred its gratification 
 before every other kind of enjoyment ; and 
 we cannot doubt, that in every age there 
 have been many who, either from philo- 
 sophy or temperament, or from both in con- 
 junction, have made a like preference ; and 
 even in the present period of bustle and 
 
10 ^ General Sketch of Man, [Part i. 
 
 agitation, examples are not wanting of the 
 same indolent and inglorious character. 
 
 II. The next great principle by which 
 man is actuated is the love of cojisequencc, or 
 of appearing considerable in the eyes of the 
 world ; with which is connected a desire of 
 distinction and superiority ; since he who is 
 on a level with others attracts no particular 
 notice or regard. This principle discovers 
 itself very early ; a child, upon receiving 
 any mark of distinction he is capable of 
 understanding, immediately feels his im- 
 portance, and is ready to exact a degree of 
 homage from his companions. Nor will 
 this humour, unless timely restrained, be 
 confined to his fellows; little master, by 
 improving every attention paid him, will 
 soon learn to dictate to the servants at 
 home, and perhaps come to give law to the 
 whole house. What Themistocles observed 
 jestingly of his son, that " he was chief of 
 the Greeks, by governing his mother, who 
 governed him, who governed all the rest," 
 is too often realized within the circle of do- 
 mestic life. 
 
 If we look into our public schools, v/e 
 
Sect, i.] General Slelch of Man. 11 
 
 shall find few instances of remarkable pro- 
 gress which may not be ascribed to a sj)irit 
 of emnlation. To become the first in a 
 school, or in a class, will generally prove a 
 more powerful stimulus to a])plication than 
 all the beauties of Homer and Virgil. This 
 ambition of pre-eminence, this love of ex- 
 celling, more than of excellence, accompa- 
 nies every stac>e and condition of human 
 life. 
 
 It is not indeed every man that ardently 
 wishes to be a poet or a philosopher, a judge 
 or a bishop, the general of an army or a 
 minister of state, as there are few whose 
 capacity or situation will admit of such 
 prospects ; though it must be confessed, on 
 the other hand, that there is scarce any one 
 so disgraced bj^ nature, unfavoured by edu- 
 cation,* or depressed by fortune, that may 
 not, if he can find his place, obtain a degree 
 of consequence. And who does not wish 
 to be a great man somewJiere ; or does not 
 affect to be chief in some system, however 
 small and inconsiderable ; and if he cannot 
 attain his object by fair and gentle means, 
 is not ready to contend for it ? 
 
12 General Sketch of Man. [Part i. 
 
 Hence it is that no political society, in 
 which the point of precedence is not firmly 
 established, can long subsist without contest. 
 For as every citizen, if he cannot attain the 
 first place, will endeavour to approach it as 
 nearly as possible, he must have many 
 rivals to encounter; and consequently will 
 be put to a full trial of his strength, and 
 perhaps suffer many defeats, before he falls 
 into his proper rank. Hence too arise most 
 of those wars and violent commotions which 
 so often agitate the world ; while, like Pom- 
 pey and Caesar, one prince or state will not 
 endure a superior, nor another an equal ; 
 or rather, while each strives for mastery, 
 since (as before observed) it is not mere 
 equality, but dominion, that is naturally 
 the object of human ambitiop. And it 
 may justly be questioned, whether many 
 examples can be produced of a lasting 
 friendly union between two private indi- 
 viduals, without a tacit demand of supe- 
 riority on the one part, and a generous 
 compliance with it on the other. 
 
 The assertion therefore of some, that a 
 state of nature is a state of imr, in a qualified 
 
Sect, i.] Genaal Sketch of Man. 13 
 
 sense is true; taking war as softened and 
 mitigated by an infusion of equity and 
 humanity. For, in his present condition, 
 
 " Under hope of heavenly grace, and God proclaiming peace," 
 
 man is not utterly abandoned to his vile and 
 malignant passions. 
 
 Nor is this spirit of pride and domination 
 confined to social or political life ; it invades 
 the retreats of the learned, and kindles 
 intellectual war among grammarians and 
 critics, historians and poets, philosophers 
 and metaphysicians ; nay, it early invaded 
 the church itself j producing heresies, schisms, 
 and persecutions ; and under the manage- 
 ment of a succession of men, who styled 
 themselves servants of iJie servants of God^ 
 grew into a system of tyranny beyond what 
 the world had before known ; extended it- 
 self over both soul and body ; over this life 
 and the life to come. Surelv there must 
 be a strange power in this ambitious prin- 
 ciple, which could thus make its way in 
 opposition to a religion whose foundation is 
 humility, and whose perfection, charity; 
 and even convert that religion itself into 
 
1 4 General SketcJc of Man, ' [Part i. 
 
 an engine for accomplishing its own pur- 
 poses. 
 
 Again : It is not only in situations of im- 
 portance, or in the stated intercourse of 
 life, but on the most trivial and accidental 
 occasions, that a spirit of consequence will 
 display itself Let two travellers who never 
 met before, and may never meet again, 
 pass only a few hours together at the same 
 inn, or in the same stage-coach, and there 
 w^ill probably be some exhibition of this 
 nature. In whatever circumstances of so- 
 ciety a man is placed, he is willing to im- 
 press a flattering idea of himself 
 
 Nor is it inconsistent with this, that per- 
 sons will sometimes seem to court disgrace, 
 by a voluntary submission to degradation 
 and contempt ; which may either arise fi'om 
 an occasional prevalence of some other 
 principle over pride, or be no more than a 
 stratagem of this passion itself jMany 
 cringe to a man in power only to rival or 
 supplant him; or, if their ambition soar not 
 so high, they seek a compensation for the 
 indignities they encounter, in the conse- 
 quence derived from an access to great- 
 
Sect, i,] General Shetcli of Man. \5 
 
 iiess amongst those avIio arc placed at a dis- 
 tance. 
 
 But however he may stand in the opinion 
 of others, and with whatever contempt or 
 indifference they may think fit to treat him, 
 there is scarce any man who does not a[)]3ear 
 considerable to himself; he discovers some 
 endowment of nature, some acquired ability, 
 or circumstance of fortune on Avhich to 
 ground his importance. If not distinguished 
 by the inventive power of genius, he finds 
 this defect compensated by a solid under- 
 standing; if he cannot, like a certain Greek, 
 raise a small village into a great city, he 
 could do what it seems that Greek could 
 not, plai/ upon the lute ; if he has neither to 
 boast of place nor pension, he may perhaps 
 pride himself as an independent country 
 gentleman ; or, if destitute of all external 
 advantage, and conscious of none within, 
 he will still imagine some latent excellence, 
 which, if happily brought to light, would 
 elevate him to enviable distinction. 
 
 I^astlv : From the above observations it 
 may appear, that the principle of which we 
 have been speaking is essentially hostile to 
 
16 General Sketch of Man. [Part i. 
 
 the peace and good order of the world. 
 Men who proudly aspire after authority 
 themselves, must of course be disposed to 
 resist it in others ; and if they cannot govern, 
 will be sure to be governed as little as pos- 
 sible. It is the same spirit which in different 
 circumstances produces hard masters and 
 disobedient servants, tyrannic rulers and 
 rebellious subjects ; and, as a further aggra- 
 vation, we may add, that it is a spirit which 
 seldom or never lies dormant ; other passions 
 seem more subject to intermission ; a miser 
 maj^ sometimes forget his hoards, and a de- 
 bauchee his pleasures ; but when is it that 
 the love of consequence is not stirring in 
 the human heart ? 
 
 III. The last principle I shall consider is 
 the love of wealth. This is entirely foreign 
 and adventitious. Wealth is not primarily 
 sought for its own sake, but merely as an 
 instrument for obtaining pleasure or conse- 
 quence, though gradually it becomes a final 
 object. The process may be illustrated in 
 a familiar instance. Give some pieces of 
 money to a child ; he may be pleased with 
 them for their colour, their figure, or the 
 
Sect. I.] General Sketch uf Man, 17 
 
 characters drawn upon them, arid that is 
 all ; a few shining pehbles might do as well : 
 but when he finc!s they will procure him 
 sweetmeats, and other little gratifications 
 of which he is naturally fond, besides add- 
 ing to his consequence among his compa- 
 nions, he begins to view money in another 
 light; from its association with things of 
 themselves agreeable, a new lustre is re- 
 flected upon it, and it becomes an object 
 of desire on its own account. And thus an 
 adv entitious passion is generated, which in 
 its progress often acquires a strength, which 
 neither any other passion, though implanted 
 by nature, nor the most vigorous reason^ is 
 able effectually to resist. 
 
 A young man, upon entering the world, 
 is apt to place a generous confidence in his 
 fellow-creatures, which is rarely withdrawn 
 till he has learned by time and experience 
 that men arc generally not much to be de- 
 pended on in cases of exigency, and, least 
 of all, where pecuniary assit>tance is wanted. 
 1 le then finds they will be liberal of their 
 advice, but very sparing of their money. 
 This must give him an impression of it-i 
 
 c 
 
18 General Sketch of Man. [Part i. 
 
 value which he had not before. He is also 
 apt to presume upon himself, and to ima- 
 gine that his merits and address will be suf- 
 ficient to extricate him out of all difficulties; 
 and when he finds that there are occasions 
 in which a few pounds would do him more 
 service than all his virtues and endowments, 
 this will naturally enforce powerfully upon 
 him the expediency of pecuniary resources. 
 
 During the former part of life, pleasure 
 being the great object of pursuit, it is in 
 order to obtain it that monev is eas^erlv 
 sought, and as eagerly squandered. Avarice 
 shows itself not often in this season ; and 
 w^hen it does, it is only in a mind base and 
 groveling, and from which nothing great or 
 excellent, even in the order of this w^orld, 
 is to be expected. 
 
 The ardour of passion in youth is com- 
 monlv succeeded by the ambition of con- 
 sequence in middle age. When a man is 
 arrived at this period, and as from an emi- 
 nence looks around upon the world, and 
 beholds some, though endowed with every 
 virtue and talent, abandoned to obscurity 
 because they are poor, while others, though 
 
Sect, i.] General Sketch of Man, 
 
 destitute both of talents and virtue, wmi a*" 
 golden key in their hand open themselves a 
 \vay to offices of trust or power; must he 
 not be tempted to imagine that money an-- 
 sivereth all things; that it can both give 
 lustre to merit where it is ; and amplj^ sup- 
 ply its place where it is wanting ? . 
 
 Further : As a man's consequence is ge- 
 nerally proportioned to his appearance in 
 the world, wealth, which can always com- 
 mand external splendour, possesses irresisti- 
 ble attractions in the eyes of those who 
 have no force of intrinsic worth to make 
 them considerable. To such, in gazing 
 Upon it, "all that it can purchase rises up as 
 in vision ; manors, lordships, stately houses, 
 sumptuous equipages, with a long train of 
 needy dependents and flattering admirers. 
 Hence it cannot fail to become an object of 
 eager pursuit to minds A'ain and ambitious, 
 and undisciplined in the school of wisdom. 
 
 Avarice is properly the vice of age. In 
 the first part of life, as we have already 
 observed, money is sought chiefly for plea- 
 sure, and in the next for consequence ; but, 
 in the last stage, it is sought for its own 
 
 c 2 
 
2p Gmeral Sketch of Maji, [Part i. 
 
 sake. Avarice is the dead sea into which 
 all the other passions disembogue. When 
 a man has lost all relish for the enjoyments 
 of sense, ^yhen his heart is become dead to 
 the feelings of tenderness and friendship, 
 when he has conceived a general distrust of 
 mankind, and all his worldly prospects are 
 closed ; unless some supernatural light open 
 to him a view into a better world, what 
 remains for him but to cling closely to his 
 wealth, to hug this idol in the dark, and 
 to say unto gold, tlwu art viy hope, and to fine 
 gold, thou art imj confidence ! 
 
 This I take to be a just sketch of human 
 nature in general ; for there are doubtless 
 many individual exceptions. All young ' 
 men are not equally addicted to pleasure ; 
 some lean more to ambition ; and we may 
 now and then encounter, what seems most i 
 out of nature, a young griping miser. So 
 in middle life, though this is eminently the 
 season of ambition, it is not unfrequently 
 either wfxsted by pleasui*c, or consumed by 
 avarice. And we are sometimes shocked 
 with a lewd, or ambitious, or thriftless old 
 iwi\ Yet, notwitl\^4anding such exceptions. 
 
Sect, i.] General Sketch of Ma7i. 21 
 
 the above representation, 1 think, is fairly 
 chMwn from life and experience. 
 
 Nor does rehgion itself totally extirpate 
 the evils we have been considering ; and if 
 religion fail of this effect, it is in vain to 
 expect it from human discipline. In the 
 best of men some fibres of depravity re- 
 main, exhibiting melancholy proof of its 
 stubborn inveteracy. But whatever be the 
 influence of religion upon its true disciples, 
 the number of such is too small materially 
 to affect the present argument. 
 
 We may therefore conclude, w ithout any 
 danger of incurring the charge of libelling 
 human nature, that the love of pleasure, 
 the love of consequence, and the love of 
 w^ealth, have been, and still are, the most 
 prevailing passions amongst men ; and are 
 likely so to continue, until some happier 
 period shall arrive, when (in prophetic lan- 
 guage) tJie eartJi shall he filled with the know- 
 ledge of God, and the people shall be all rig/ite- 
 ens*. 
 
 * Isaiah, ch. ii. ver. 6. 9. and ch. Ix. vcr. 21. 
 
( 22 ) [Parti. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Of the immediate Ends of Government, and 
 how far they are attainable. 
 
 Having thus premised a few general 
 observations on man, the subject to be go- 
 verned, it may be proper, before we pro- 
 ceed to our mai]i design, briefly to consider 
 the more immediate ends of government, 
 and how far thev are attainable. 
 
 Order is the beauty and strength of so- 
 ciety; look at ten thousand lyien in the 
 confusion of a mob, and after they are 
 reduced into a well-disciplined army, and 
 you will see a striking illustration of this 
 position. 
 
 Among beings endued with liberty, no 
 regular society can long subsist, if every 
 pne is left to his own direction : the diversity 
 of their inclinations, and the limitation of 
 their views, must produce perpetual inter- 
 ference, without some common rule by 
 which to regulate their actions. 
 
 What form of society would have taken 
 
Sect, ir.j Of the immediate Ends, 5s' c\ 23 
 
 place in a state of innocence, of which 
 such evident traces remain in the writings 
 even of pagan antiquity, can be only mat- 
 ter of conjecture. As no crimes would have 
 existed, there would have been no need of 
 criminal j urisdiction ; nor of coercive power, 
 w^hen every one stood prompt to the per- 
 formance of his duty. This is beautifully 
 represented by Ovid, in the following pas- 
 sage of his Metamorphoses, which, th/3ugh 
 familiar to boys at school, deserves to be 
 here recited: 
 
 " Aurea prima sata est aetas, quse vindice nullo, 
 Sponte sua sine lege fidem rectumque colebat. 
 Paena metusque aberant, nee verba minacia fixo 
 Ore legebantur : nee suppiex turba timebat 
 Judicis ora sui ; sed erant sine vindice tuti*." lib. 1. 
 
 * The golden age was first, when man yet new, 
 No rule but uncorrupted reason knew, 
 And with a native bent did good pursue. 
 UnforcM by punishment, unaw'd by fear, 
 His words were simple, and his soul sincere. 
 Needless was written law where none oppressed, 
 The law of right was written in his breast: 
 No suppliant crowds before the judge appear'd. 
 No court erected yet, nor cause was he 
 But all was safe, for conscience was their 
 
 appear'd, % 
 2ard ; v 
 
 :ir guard." ) 
 
 DRYDEN. 
 
24 Of the immediate [Parti. 
 
 Yet some regulations, even in this state, 
 might be necessary. We learn from scrip- 
 ture, whence probably many of the fables of 
 heathen poets are a corrupt derivation, that 
 the first man, pure as he came from the 
 hands of his Maker, was placed in the gar- 
 den of Eden to dress and to keep it ; which 
 service, whatever it meant, must doubtless 
 have belonged equally to his oifspring; and 
 we may probably suppose, that those por-^ 
 tions of the soil upon which any of them 
 had separately bestowed their care, w^ould 
 thereby have been rendered, in some de- 
 gree, exclusive property. And if by the 
 expression to dress and to keep is to be under- 
 stood, besides mere embellishment, a degree 
 of productive labour, t^^ere might be re- 
 quired, for the due dist* bution of the pro- 
 duce, some settled \? or rule, which, as 
 the earth at large grew more peopled, would 
 appear to become still more necessary. 
 And generally, in all the intercourse and 
 transactions of such a state, where the law 
 of nature was silent, or not express, some 
 positive regulations might at least be e:s^^ 
 pcdient. 
 
Sect. II.] Ends of Government. 25 
 
 If, therefore, some political regimen would 
 be required in a state of things where every 
 individual was disposed to concur in pro- 
 moting tiie common welfare, it must be 
 more highly necessary in a state where 
 almost every one concentrates his regards 
 in himself 
 
 We now proceed, after these few remarks 
 on the need of government in general, to 
 consider its present immediate objects, which 
 appear to be the following : 
 
 I. PERSONAL LIBERTY. 
 
 II. PERSONAL SECURITY. 
 
 III. PRIVATE PROPERTY. 
 
 IV. PUBLIC DECORUM. 
 
 Of these several objects I shall treat in 
 order, and ende vour to ascertain how far 
 they fall within^ he compass of political 
 regulations. 
 
 I. Personal Liberty. — This consists in 
 the power of loco-motion, or of going H'hen 
 or ivhere we please ; which power, from the 
 very constitution of civil society, cannot be 
 enjoyed in the same degree by every indi- 
 vidual. 
 
26 Of the immediate [Parti. 
 
 No large community can long subsist 
 without a considerable part of its members 
 being appointed to laborious situations and 
 dependent cixeumstances. It cannot subsist 
 without food and clothing, and these can- 
 not be obtained without labour ; and men 
 generally will not labour but upon the 
 urgency of necessity. If eveiy man was 
 provided with a stock of the necessaries of 
 life, or had wealth to purchase them, we 
 should see few shuttles in motion, and few 
 ploughs turning up the soil, till the time 
 came Avhen, having wasted their resources, 
 distress would compel some to the loom and 
 others to the field. 
 
 Again : In a civilized state, besides cloth- 
 ing and food, much domestic service is re- 
 quired, of which a great part being neither 
 elegant nor unlaborious, will not commonly 
 be performed by those who can avoid it; 
 which all may do who are under no imme- 
 diate pressure or fear of want. Therefore, 
 without such a degree of indigence as may 
 dispose some to undergo the daily drudgery 
 of life, and such a degree of affluence as 
 may enable others to reward them for it, we 
 
Sect, ij.] Ends of Government, 27 
 
 .could expect to find but little either of do- 
 mestic neatness or comfort. 
 
 All this is obviously consequent on the 
 view which we have just given of human 
 natiu'e. For since the love of pleasure, (in- 
 cluding indolence, or the love of ease) the love 
 of consequence and of wealth, are (as we have 
 ^hown) the three great principles which at 
 present govern mankind; it evidently fol- 
 lows, that those oflices of humble life, to 
 which neither pleasure nor honour, and 
 but little profit, is attached, though on 
 them depends the very existence of all civil 
 society, will never be discharged but under 
 the compulsion of necessity ; which is the 
 only weight that, in this case, can keep the 
 political machine in motion. And all that 
 can reasonably be proposed by human go- 
 vernment, till there shall be a general pre- 
 valence of religious principle in the world, 
 is so to regulate this weight, that it may 
 neither break down the machine altogether, 
 nor bear more than needs upon any of its 
 parts. 
 
 Hence it will follow, that, to preserve 
 
28 . Of the immediate [Parti. 
 
 society from sinking into a savage state, in 
 which every man must he content to fish 
 and hunt for himself, and to wear the skin 
 of the beast he has slain, a large proportion 
 of the people must depend for their sub- 
 sistence on the toils of husbandry, on use- 
 ful manufactures, and domestic service ; 
 which implies the relation of master and 
 servant, of those who have nothing but 
 their labour to bring to market, and of those 
 who come with a price in their hands to 
 purchase it. 
 
 If we apply these remarks to the case of 
 personal liberty, it will appear, that in every 
 civil society, whatever be its form and con- 
 struction, this power of loco-motion in the 
 majority of its members must necessarily 
 be confined within narrow limits. Persons 
 whose support depends on sedentary em- 
 ployments, or on their occupation within 
 the compass of a house or a farm ; that is, 
 in a nation like our own, an immense bodv 
 of artisans and domestics, with a numerous 
 peasantry, will not find themselves much at 
 liberty to travel or roam abroad for their 
 
Skct. II.] Ends of Government, 29 
 
 aniuseinent. To these inevitable causes of 
 restraint are to be added such as are unne- 
 cessary and oppressive, whose operation, 
 in a multitude of cases occurring in families 
 and the various intercourse of life, no hu- 
 man laws can prevent or remedy. 
 
 'I'he portion of personal libert}^ which re- 
 mains after these deductions, is all that, un- 
 der the happiest constitution of society, can 
 be enjoyed by the bulk of a people. Indi- 
 viduals, w^ho are placed beyond the neces- 
 sitv of constant labour, will be more at 
 large ; and those few w^ho are amply pro- 
 vided, and are under no restraint from others, 
 may ramble round the world at their plea- 
 sure, without any impediments except those 
 arising from the w ant of bodily vigour, the 
 interposition of hills and vallies, with other 
 inconveniences, which no human exertions 
 can entirely obviate or remove. The value 
 of this liberty w^e may see hereafter. 
 
 If. Next to personal liberty we have 
 placed personal security, or the peaceable 
 enjoyment of life, healthy and character. 
 
30 Of (he hnmediate [Part i. 
 
 1. As life is fundamental to every other 
 blessing, it must be a primary object of all 
 political union to secure it against assault. 
 And this end, in a good measure, is attained 
 under any regular government. By the 
 dread of just punishment which it creates^ 
 added to the ten'or inspired by nature for 
 deeds of blood, the hand of the ruffian is 
 powerfully withheld ; and every good citi- 
 zen may go about his business, or retire to 
 his rest, without fear of violence or molesta- 
 tion. 
 
 But though the life of every member of 
 a well-ordered community is thus protected, 
 it is far from being placed in a situation of 
 absolute safety. There is no man, it has 
 been said, and truly, who is not master of 
 another's life, provided he is willing to risk 
 his own ; nor is the prince himself* in the 
 midst of his guards, secure from the hand 
 of the assassin ; of which we have had more 
 than one alarming instance in our own times 
 and country. 
 
 And as life is thus exposed to danger 
 from human violence, so is It likewise from 
 
Sect, ii.] Ends of Government, ^\ 
 
 human inadvertence or accident; and still 
 more from the various casualties and disasters 
 which happen in the course of the natural 
 world. Our ordinary journals will afford 
 us a melancholy history of the sudden ex- 
 tinction of life;- — by shipwrecks; by hur- 
 ricanes and inundations; by lire; sometimes 
 by thunder and lightning, or tremendous 
 earthquakes ; by the suffocation of mines, 
 or a pestilential atmosphere ; and by other 
 disorders of the elements, equally unfore- 
 seen and irresistible : all which may teach 
 us the great insecurity of our present being, 
 after the utmost care we can employ for its 
 preservation. 
 
 2. Another branch of personal security 
 which falls under the care of civil govern- 
 ment, is the health of the subject. Among 
 the means which a wise policy would em- 
 ploy to this purpose may be reckoned, the 
 prevention of idleness; the restraint of vice 
 and luxury ; the encouragement of agricul- 
 ture, and other manly occupations, in order 
 to lessen the number of sedentarj^ employ- 
 ments, and to reduce the extent and popu- 
 lation of cities and large towns, which are 
 
32 Of the immediate [Parti. 
 
 the graves of the human species; above all, 
 the aftbrding of due countenance to piety 
 and virtue, Avhich, according to one of our 
 medical philosophers, contain the true se- 
 cret of health and long life. Yet though by 
 these and similar methods, many of those 
 maladies which now severely afflict the 
 world, might be prevented, and a consider- 
 able portion added to the stock of public 
 health, there would still remain behind, to 
 evince the impotency of all human efforts, 
 the incurable malady of old age, which 
 nothing but a return to the dust whence we 
 were taken can either prevent or terminate. 
 
 3. The last branch of personal sccuriti/ we 
 have specified, is character ; a possession by 
 many more valued, tliough often more pre- 
 carious and exposed, than any other. 
 
 The love of consequence we have seen 
 is a prevailing passion in man ; and reputa- 
 tion, by which we hold a place in the good 
 opinion of otliers, may be considered as a 
 species of consequence. This, when sought, 
 as it too often is, by base or crooked means, 
 and with no higher views than to advance a 
 name, or promote some temporal interest. 
 
Sect, ii.] Ends of Govcnunent, 33 
 
 is certainly a vicious object of pursuit, and 
 then onlv becomes allowable, when it is 
 prosecuted in a just and laudable manner, 
 and with an entire reference to God, w^ho is 
 the only fountain of all true honour. 
 
 But however sought or obtained, it is a 
 possession very frail in its nature, and emi- 
 nently exposed to the attacks of malignity 
 and envy. 
 
 Such= is its frailty, that no delicacy of 
 health can be more alive to the impressions 
 of the atmosphere, than the tenderness of 
 reputation is sensible to fame and rumour. 
 Every day's experience may convince us, 
 that the least breath of calumny is enough 
 to injure, and a violent blast to destroy, the 
 most established character. And how much 
 a distinguished name is exposed to the at- 
 tacks of envy and malignity, we may learn 
 from the readiness with which it is run down 
 even by those who have no interest in its 
 abasement; of which, we have a trite in- 
 stance in the illiterate clown who gave liis 
 vote for the banishment of Aristides, for no 
 other reason than because he heard him 
 everywhere celebrated under the title of 
 
 D 
 
34 Of the inunediate [Part i. 
 
 thejust^. And this spirit will discover itself 
 still more in those who are themselves en- 
 gaged in the race of honour, and at the 
 same time are actuated by no higher motive 
 than that of surpassing others. A man of 
 this description is capable of any meanness 
 or injustice. He will be disposed to view 
 with jealousy a rising reputation, though it 
 should not obstruct his own ; in case of rival- 
 ship, if he cannot fairly outstrip a com- 
 petitor, he will employ every art to supplant 
 him ; and if compelled to own his superiority* 
 he will accompany the acknowledgment 
 with every circumstance of invidious dero- 
 gation. Nor is competition for w^ealth or 
 pleasure less disparaging and injurious than 
 emulation of excellence. 
 
 Further : The same spirit may be re^ 
 marked in the readiness with which libels, 
 satires, and other malicious tracts, are cir- 
 culated in public ; and perhaps still more 
 in the liberty generally taken with the good 
 name of the absent in our ordinary inter- 
 course ; when to indulge a sally of wit, or a 
 momentary triumph of vanity, to gratify a 
 
 * See Plutarch. 
 
 i . 
 
Sect* II.] Ends of Goveryimoit, 65 
 
 sudden emotion of envy, or even from 
 mere wantonness and caprice, the character 
 of a neighbour or friend is lightly treated, 
 or injuriously depreciated. To moralists in 
 every age this has been a standing topic of 
 complaint, as involving no small part of 
 the misery of human life. 
 
 Yet these are evils, however great, which 
 must generally be suffered in order to avoid 
 still greater : if ev^ery word or action that 
 might be construed into sedition or defama- 
 tion was liable to a legal process, our civil 
 liberties might be endangered ; human life 
 would become a scene of perpetual litiga- 
 tion ; a gloomy suspicion would hang over 
 our social intercourse; the harmless plea- 
 santry of familiar conversation would be 
 checked ; while ingenious malice would still 
 continue to diffuse its poison in a manner 
 too subtle for legal cognizance. 
 
 Upon the whole then it appears, that 
 both our life, our health, and character, 
 (which we have ranked under the head of 
 personal security) are blessings, after all tlie 
 precautions that can be taken, of a very 
 precarious nature; that in every stage of 
 
 D 2 
 
56 Of the immediate [Parti. 
 
 our journey they are exposed to the incur- 
 sions of innumerable wrongs and mischances, 
 against Avhich it would be in vain to look for 
 protection to laws and government, or to 
 any human power or prudence. All that 
 these can do is to plant a guard, oftentimes 
 weak and ineffectual, at a few of the avenues 
 through which they are assailable, while a 
 thousand others are left naked and without 
 defence, 
 
 III. The third end of government above 
 stated, is properti/, concerning which let it ' 
 be first observed, that, if the great law 
 which commands us to love our neighhoiii' as 
 ourselves had universally prevailed, a com- , 
 munity of goods might not have been in- 
 consistent with public order, since every 
 man would then have readily furnished his I 
 contingent of labour, and required no more 
 from the common stock than a moderate 
 supply of his wants. 
 
 In such a state of mutual benevolence a 
 
 nation would have resembled children of * 
 
 I 
 
 the same family, and their dwellings so I 
 many apartments in the same house; no i 
 
Sect, ii.] Ends of Govcnunoit. 37 
 
 bars and bolts would have been necessary 
 to prevent violent intrusion, and they would 
 liave sat down at each other's table with the 
 laniiliarity of brethren. 
 
 The world, however, at present, is too 
 much under the rule of selfish passions to 
 admit of such an intercommunity. There 
 would be so many drones in the hive, that 
 the labouring bees would never be able to 
 furnish the supplies; which alone (omitting 
 other considerations) shows the expediency, 
 if not the necessity, of that policy, by which 
 every one enjoys his peculium under the 
 joint protection of the community. 
 
 For a man to possess something that he 
 can say is mine, to sit down in his own house 
 as in a castle, and quietly eat the fruit of 
 his own labour, or enjoy his paternal inhe- 
 ritance without fear of injury or annoyance; 
 is a blessing which can be dulj^^ estimated by 
 those only who have experienced the inse- 
 curity of a tyrannic or savage state. Even 
 merely to contemplate a constitution of so- 
 --ciety, which communicates this blessing to 
 millions, must yield an exquisite satisfaction 
 
38 Of the imyyiediate [Part i. 
 
 to every mind that is sensible to order and 
 general happiness. 
 
 Yet here also, as in the case of personal 
 security, riches, of whatever kind, in spite 
 of all laws and precautions, are not exempt 
 from the common instability, of other sub- 
 lunary things ; they are exposed to continual 
 frauds and depredations; to innumerable 
 disasters and casualties; so great is their 
 uncertainty, as if it grew out of their own 
 nature : Tlwy make themselves wijigs, says 
 Solomon, they jly away*. 
 
 2. With relation to the distribution of 
 propertj^, the best possible state of society 
 seems to be, when the bulk of a people can 
 subsist comfortably with moderate labour, 
 and cannot subsist without it. And indeed 
 no society can enjoy much permanency be- 
 yond this state; for suppose it elevated a 
 few degrees higher, whether by a sudden 
 influx of wealth, or by any other means, 
 the number of idle hands that would thus 
 be thrown upon it, and the consequent de- 
 ficiency of labour, would probably soon 
 
 ^ Prov. xxiii. 5. 
 
Sect, ii.] Ends of Govcr?i7?ie?it. 39 
 
 reduce it more below its proper situation, 
 than it had been raised above it. 
 
 There is no way, that I knoAV of, for the 
 body of citizens to reUeve tliemselves of the 
 necessity of labour, but by a most detestable 
 division of mankind into freemen and slaves; 
 by which the one part constitute themselves 
 the lords and tyrants of the other. This 
 we know was a practice with the most cele- 
 brated republics of antiquity, and notwith- 
 standing the greater light and liberty of the 
 present times, is still a practice; which, how- 
 ever, we have reason to believe is drawing 
 towards a close, if not by an act of voluntary 
 abolition (an honour to which our rulers seem 
 not forward to aspire) yet from the general 
 state and circumstances of the world, that 
 will no longer endure the continuance of a 
 grievance, under which it has groaned for 
 so many ages. ) 
 
 IV. There remains now only the last end 
 of government, above specified, to be briefly 
 considered. 
 
 No rational policy will permit the dignity 
 of society to be violated, or its peace dis- 
 
40 Of the immediate [Part r. 
 
 turbed, by notorious profligacy, by tumult 
 or riot, or by similar disorders, although 
 not attended with any actual infringement 
 of liberty or property. Such licence ought 
 not to be suffered to infest even a village ; 
 much less should it be tolerated in a nation 
 at large. Mr. Locke himself, who is known 
 to be a strenuous advocate for freedom, 
 makes it a part of the office of the magis- 
 trate to punish debauchery and immorality, 
 and compel men to lead sober- and honest 
 lives*. And notwithstanding the increase 
 of liberality since his time, both flagrant 
 breaches of the peace, and open and scan^ 
 dalous vice, still continue in this country to 
 be objects of political animadversion, and 
 will ever so remain, unless reason and virtue 
 should entirely withdraw themselves from 
 amongst us, and leave us a prey to barbarism 
 and false philosophy. 
 
 , Let us then proceed to inquire for a mo- 
 ment, how far the coercive power of go- 
 vernment is adequate to the maintenance 
 of public decorum, which is chiefly violated 
 in the following respects : 
 
 f- Third Letter on Toleration, p. 85-6, and 282-3, 
 
Sect, ii.] Ends of Government. 41 
 
 First, by lewdness and debauchery. So vio- 
 lent is the propension of mankind to sensual 
 indulgence, that no human power can 
 always restrain them from open and scan- 
 dalous excesses. Indeed by the strict execu- 
 tion of the laws now in force amongst us, 
 and by others to supply the deficiency of 
 the present, much more might be done to 
 check the progress of evils, which threaten 
 even our political existence ; though, after 
 every provision, nothing could prevent bad 
 men from diffusing their poison in a more 
 subtle and insinuating manner, whether by 
 the dubious turn of their conversation, or 
 the general style of their behaviour. And 
 in regard to that great medium of commu- 
 nication, the press, unless very severe and 
 perhaps unwise restrictions were laid upon 
 it, the corruption of authors Avill be sure to 
 make it an engine of obscenity, as well as 
 of other mischiefs ; at least, in a covert and 
 delicate way, which being less shocking to 
 our moral feelings, is suited to spread the 
 contagion with greater effect. These there- 
 fore are evils, w hich are more the subjects 
 of lamentation than of political redress. 
 
4^ Of die immediate [Part i. 
 
 Secondlj^, by ganmig : which, although 
 it has no particular ground in human nature, 
 and is no more than an accidental deter^ 
 mination of its general propensity to dissi=- 
 pation ; when it has once made its way into 
 society, and obtained the sanction of fashion, 
 is an evil not easily to be suppressed, or 
 even checked, by the wisest government. 
 Of this we have a striking example in our 
 own country, where, in spite of many dis- 
 couraging statutes *, it prevails to an alarm- 
 ing degree, defeating every provision of 
 law by a principle of false honour, which 
 has often a strange influence with men w^ho 
 possess but little sense either of virtue or 
 decency. 
 
 Thirdly, by profaneness. By this I under- 
 stand a contemptuous disregard to the being 
 and providence of God, which commonly 
 shows itself by using his name with irre- 
 verence, and neglecting his worship, Mr. 
 Bovle is said never to have mentioned the 
 name of God, without a visible pause in 
 his discourse ; and whoever does it with 
 
 * See Blackstone*s Com. vol. iv. p. 172-3. 
 
Sect, ii.] Ends of Government, 4)3 
 
 habitual levity, discovers a mind destitute 
 of every religious principle. The neglect 
 of public, ^vhich I fear is almost always? 
 accompanied with an equal neglect of do- 
 mestic worship, may be thought no less 
 chargeable with profaneness ; as it seems to 
 insinuate, either that there is no God, or 
 that our obligations to him require no such 
 acknowledgment ; or that we are too indo- 
 lent, or too proud to offer it ; for we can 
 hardly admit with some, that the heart may 
 be inspired with devotion when so consider- 
 able an expression of it is wanting. And 
 were this indeed possible, such abstracted 
 piety, by assuming the appearance of irre- 
 ligion, must have the same effect upon 
 others, and on this account be very culpa- 
 bly deficient. The small success of the 
 methods taken by our legislature to remedy 
 these evils, shows how little can be expected 
 from fines and penalties, in those points 
 which relate to our most important in- 
 terests. 
 
 Fourthly, by a want of due respect to tJie 
 constitution, whether religious or civil, under 
 which we live. To treat the establishments 
 
44 Of the immediate [Part r, 
 
 of our country with insolence or scurrility, 
 or even as subjects of mere disputation, is 
 manifestly an offence to public decency; 
 although such grave discussion as may serve 
 to their correction or improvement, is not 
 only consistent with the regard we owe 
 them, but may proceed from it. How to 
 suppress the former without discouraging 
 the latter, is a difficulty to which no policy 
 is equal. There have been periods when 
 prescription was reason, and when time 
 gave a sanction to the grossest usurpations 
 upon the persons and property, the under- 
 standings and consciences of men ; there 
 have been periods too in which a wild and 
 lavvless spirit has gone forth, and boldly 
 called in question every opinion consecrated 
 by the veneration, and every institution 
 confn^med by the practice, of former ages. 
 If men could have been taught wisdom 
 by past example, by this time they would 
 have learned, first, in respect to truth, to 
 have sought it, though without a super- 
 stitious attachment, yet not without a 
 becoming deference to ancient opinions; 
 and, secondly, in respect to government. 
 
Si:cT. II.] Ends of Goxxrnment, A5 
 
 rulers would have learned to act for the 
 people, and the people to subnnit cheerfully 
 to lawful and moderate government. The 
 fact is, that, till some great revolution talve 
 place in human nature, the world will go 
 on at its old rate, will continue to be swayed 
 by its interests and passions, and perpetually 
 be vibratins: between truth and error, tv- 
 rann}^ and licence, in spite of all the efforts 
 of patriots and philosophers. 
 
 Fifthly, by incivility. It has been often 
 justly observed, that the miseries of the 
 present life arise not so much from great 
 calamities, which but seldom happen, as 
 from a succession of small vexations, which 
 fret a man's spirit, exhaust his patience, 
 and so bring him into a state of perpetual 
 irritation. Whatever therefore tends to 
 obviate these petty evils, highly deserves 
 the attention of every one who either values 
 his ov^^n quiet or that of others. On this 
 account civility is an object of important 
 consideration, as it serves to prevent those 
 minute offences which are so apt to disturb 
 our friendly intercourse, and frequently to 
 convert it into a state of secret animosity or 
 
46 Of the immediate [Part r* 
 
 of open hostility. Man is a being who 
 naturally demands respect, and often suffers 
 more patiently a substantial irrjury than a 
 shght contempt, which, if unnoticed, would 
 neither affect his reputation nor his fortune. 
 How deeply the resentment of such shadowy 
 offences may penetrate the human heart, 
 we have a striking example in the story of 
 Haman, who, because Mordecai the Jew 
 refused him those tokens of honour paid 
 him by others, lost all enjoyment of himself 
 and of his elevated condition, and conceived 
 the dreadful purpose of revenging upon a 
 whole nation his quarrel with an obscure 
 stranger. This instance is only singular by 
 its magnitude. There are few persons, I 
 fear, who may not look back upon certain 
 conjunctures, when their revenge has been 
 excited, their nights disturbed, and all their 
 comforts embittered, because some unlucky 
 Mordecai had denied them that respect they 
 thought their due ; nor is it very uncommon 
 for men of false honour to put to hazard 
 the lives of others, as well as their own, 
 for the sake of chastising some petty insult 
 or ceremonious neglect. Hence then ap- 
 
Sect. ii.J Ends of Government. 
 
 pears the importance of attending 
 usual forms of civility among beings so ready 
 to give and to take offence. Of this tlie 
 Chinese are so sensible, that at Pekin there 
 is a court established for regulating the cere- 
 monial of the empire, both among natives 
 and strangers. This punctilious regard to 
 manners is strongly marked in one of their 
 volumes, which contains, as we are told, 
 no less than three thousand rules for the 
 behaviour of persons of every rank, and 
 upon every occasion. 
 
 Now, though all these regulations could 
 in every instance be reduced exactly to 
 practice, which is evidently impossible, there 
 would yet remain, as will easily be con- 
 ceived, numberless waj^s of conveying in- 
 sult, which the formality of respect would 
 only render still more provoking. Human 
 nature is a Proteus that cannot be held by 
 any merely outward constraint: nothing 
 short of a moral revolution, in which pride 
 gives place to humility, and selfishness to 
 benevolence, can produce a genuine and 
 uniform civility of manners. 
 
 These few remarks may suffice, concern- 
 
48 Of the immediate Ends, Kc, [Part i. 
 
 ing the influence of civil government upon 
 liberty, security, property, and public de- 
 corum, which we have stated to be its first 
 and immediate objects ; and, from its bear- 
 ing upon these objects, shall next proceed 
 to estimate its influence on virtue and hap- 
 piness : only premising that, in order to 
 simplify oui* discourse, we shall reduce the 
 four heads now stated, under those of liberty 
 and property y which, when taken exten- 
 sively, will be found to comprize the other 
 two. 
 
Sect, in.] ( 49 ) 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 A?i Estimate of the Influence of Civil Govern- 
 ment on Virtue and Happiness, from the 
 Bclation it bears to Liberty, 
 
 It is intended, in the present section, to 
 take a view of civil government in the fol- 
 lowing respects : first, As it restrains liberty; 
 secondly, As it improves and enlarges it; 
 lastl}^ As it is a species of moral discipline: 
 and in each of these cases to estimate the 
 effect on Virtue and Happiness. 
 
 I. What I have to offer on the first point 
 proposed, I shall introduce with the follow- 
 ing brief remarks on natural liberty, and the 
 limitations under which it is found in man. 
 
 The liberty of every agent must be limit- 
 ed by his power, the liberty of doing any 
 thing necessarily presupposing the power 
 of doing it; hence that being only whose 
 power is infinite possesses absolute liberty. 
 
 Whatsoever God determinatelv wills to 
 do, is done. He spake, and the earth was; 
 he commanded, and it stood fast; he said, 
 
 £ 
 
50 Liberty in relation [^Part I. 
 
 Let there be light, and there teas light ^. In 
 respect to all other beings, their volitions 
 are only efficient Avithin a certain sphere 
 marked out by their Creator. 
 
 As man apparently holds the lowest place 
 in the scale of rational existence, it is pro- 
 bable his liberty corresponds to his situation, 
 and is consequently of less extent than what 
 naturally belongs to the other orders of in- 
 telligences; of whom the least, for any 
 thing we know to the contrary, may be 
 able to xvield these elements at his pleasure, 
 over which the most powerful combination ' 
 of human strength and skill has so little 
 command. 
 
 Whatever then is naturally bevond the 
 sphere of human power, is no object of* 
 human liberty ; no one, for instance, is free 
 to walk across the ocean, or fly to the 
 moon ; to control the course of the winds,., 
 or the tides of the ocean-f; and in innu- 
 
 * Ps. xxxiii. 9. Gen. i. 3. 
 
 t ** Canute was the greatest and most powerful prince 
 of his time. Some of his flatterers breaking out onej 
 day in admiration of his grandeur, exclaimed that every 
 thing was possible for him : upon which the monaich,/ 
 
Sect, hi.] to Virtue and Happiness, 51 
 
 merable cases, within the natural hmits, 
 liberty may be wanting: how often is a 
 man unable, and therefore not at Hbertv to 
 gratify his ambition, his appetites, or his 
 mterest, however wilhng he may l)e to do 
 it, merely for want of occasions and oppor- 
 tunities ! 
 
 Thus we see the narrow boundaries of 
 the liberty of man. The cases are compa- 
 ratively few in which he is able to act as he 
 will, and this inability is one of the happiest 
 circumstances of his condition ; since, in his 
 present state of depravity, power generally 
 serves him to no other end than to do mis- 
 chief to himself, to disturb the regular course 
 of nature, or the order of political and 
 social life. 
 
 Indeed an unrestrained liberty w^ould be 
 
 it is said, ordered his chair to be set on the sea-shore ; 
 and as the waters approached, he commanded them to 
 retire. But when the sea still advanced, and began to 
 wash him with its billows, he turned to his courtiers, 
 and remarked to them, that every creature in the uni- 
 verse was feeble and impotent, and that power resided 
 only with that Being who could say to the ocean, Thits 
 far shalt thou go and no further y See Hume's Hist, 
 of England. 
 
 E 2 
 
52 Liberty in relation [Part i. 
 
 incompatible with the very being of society, 
 which cannot subsist without submission to 
 some common authority, by which the re- 
 lative conduct of its members may be regu- 
 lated, and their several claims adjudged and 
 settled. 
 
 But though all political society in its very 
 nature implies restraint, j'et, under a wise 
 government, none will be imposed wantonly 
 or without sufficient reason : either it will 
 be necessary for the protection of each mem- 
 ber of the community in his particular 
 rights; for the maintenance of public order; 
 or it will in gome other way contribute to 
 the common good. Hence, as under such a 
 government the subject is only prevented 
 Irom doing wrong, whether in respect to 
 individuals or to the public at large, it is ob- 
 vious that the restraints under which he lies, 
 must be no less favourable to his own virtue, 
 and consequently to his real happiness, than 
 they are needful to the security and welfare 
 of his fellow-citizens. 
 
 To be deterred from violence, injustice, 
 and brutality, must always be for our bene- 
 fit ; and although a restriction in things of 
 
Sect, hi.] to Virtue and Happiness, 53 
 
 an indifferent nature, wiiich the public good 
 may sometimes render necessary, may pos- 
 sibly operate to our particular disadvantage, 
 this is more than compensated by the salu- 
 tary check it gives to our natural selfishness, 
 which would lead us to pursue our own at 
 the expence of the general interest. 
 
 II. We have next to consider govern- 
 ment as it uTiproves and enlarges liberty. 
 
 And, in the first place, let it be observed, 
 ffliat even the restraints we have now stated, 
 produce, on the whole, this effect; since 
 they less abridge our own liberty, as bind- 
 ing upon ourselves, than they extend it as 
 binding upon others. To be fully satisfied 
 of this, Ave need only to attend to the fbl- 
 lowing consideration : — If every man was 
 left to act according to his own will and 
 pleasure, there would arise a general con- 
 test for power, for wealth, and sensual gra- 
 tifications ; in the pursuit of these objects 
 each would be liable to be thwarted by the 
 ability or address, the force or artifice of his 
 neighbour ; he could not even rear a hut, 
 or plant a garden, without danger of ob- 
 
5i Libert]/ in relation [Part i. 
 
 struction in the attempt, or of deprivation 
 in the possession ; whereas every member 
 of a well-regulated state may, with a manly 
 security, pursue his own good or conve- 
 nience, or those of his friends or neighbours, 
 in any way that is not plainly inconsistent 
 with the laws of his country. Whence it 
 is obvious, that law, even in its restraints 
 and prohibitions, is a source of liberty. 
 
 2. In a state of civil society, liberty is 
 further increased by that accession of power 
 which arises from mutual aid and co-opera^ 
 tion; for, as in free-agents, power and liberty 
 are commensurate, whatever goes to extend 
 the former must equally extend the latter. 
 
 A solitary individual, in whatever cir- 
 cumstances, can do but little ; nor can a 
 nation of savages, Avhere every one acts in 
 a great measure independently of the rest, 
 do much more. Throughout such a state 
 there will unavoidably be found a kind of 
 melancholy sameness and monotony; the 
 same miserable habitations, the same pre-^ 
 carious mode of subsistence, the same rude- 
 ness of character and manners ; all which 
 must evince how greatly the human powers 
 
Sect, hi.] to Virtue and Happiness, 55 
 
 are in such circumstances cramped and 
 limited in their exertions : but wlien man 
 becomes a member of society, though in its 
 earliest stage, where a number of heads and 
 a multitude of hands co-operate in one de- 
 sic^n, he will find many difficulties obviated, 
 many facilities of living w^ith ease and secu- 
 rity afforded, and consequently that his 
 sphere of action is considerably improved 
 and extended. 
 
 Liberty will receive a still greater increase, 
 Avhen, in the more advanced stages of so- 
 cietj^ to mutual co-operation is added know- 
 ledge, and particularly the knowledge of 
 those sciences and arts, which instruct us 
 in the laws and powers of nature, and how 
 to apply them more advantageously to our 
 profit or pleasure. Thus enlightened by 
 iscience, and provided wdth fit machines 
 and instruments, w^e are free to traverse the 
 ocean, or to dive into its depths : to ascend 
 the atmosphere; to travel, in some sense, 
 with the planets ; and to penetrate even the 
 starry regions : or, on this solid globe we 
 inhabit, to construct works, and produce 
 effects, which no combination of brute force 
 
56 Liberty iji relation [Part i. 
 
 or unlearned skill would ever be able to 
 accomplish, and which, prior to experience, 
 might be thought impossible to human be- 
 ings. 
 
 After these reflections on external liberty, 
 let it be permitted to consider for a moment 
 the relation betwixt civil government and 
 that liberty which is more internal and in- 
 tellectual, and the consequent effect upon 
 virtue and happiness. The libert}^ now in 
 question is of so tender and delicate a na- 
 ture, and requires such a rare concurrence 
 of favourable circumstances to produce it, 
 that it will scarcely be found to exist at all 
 out of political society ; and but seldom, 
 even within this pale, in any eminent de- 
 gree. When the wants of the bodj^ are to 
 be supplied by daily labour, there can be 
 little room for mental excursions ; and we 
 should generally look in vain for flights of 
 genius, or the severe investigations of rea- 
 son, amongst hordes of savages, or in the 
 mass of civil communities, which, from the 
 unavoidable condition of humanity, must 
 be chiefly engaged in corporeal employ- 
 plants. It is only amongst those classes qf 
 
Sect, hi.] to Virtue and Happiness. 61 
 
 a cultivated people which can live comforta- 
 bly upon their own fortune, or hy tlie 
 rewards held out to intellectual exer- 
 tion, that we can probably expect to meet 
 with men of a fieeand enlarged understand- 
 ing. 
 
 It is therefore in those states whose ani- 
 mating principle is liberty, that we must 
 look for a just exercise of reason, or a spirit 
 of free inquiry. Under despotic govern- 
 ments, tiie mind lies abject and depressed 
 with the bodv, without any ardour for ra- 
 tional investigation, which migiit draw down 
 the vengeance of a power founded in igno- 
 rance and injustice ; and this general depres- 
 sion of reason goes still further to strengthen 
 the hands of despotism. Thus civil and 
 intellectual slavery generate and increase 
 one another ; and the same is true of liberty. 
 liCt the government be free, and it will no 
 less elevate and liberalize the public under- 
 standing, than it will sink and degrade it, 
 when despotic. On the other hand, let 
 the public mind be dignified and expanded 
 with knowledge, and it will liberalize the 
 government; as it will be sure to invite op- 
 
58 ^ Libert]/ in relation [Part i. 
 
 pression and tyranny, when contracted and 
 debased by ignorance. 
 
 Hence it may appear, how much the 
 virtue and happiness of society is connected 
 with the exercise of a free and expansive, 
 yet solid understanding ; or, in other words, 
 with a just liberty of thinking; a liberty 
 that should carefully be distinguished from 
 the rovings of a wild and vigorous imagina- 
 tion, which delights itself with framing new 
 systems of religion or government, and with 
 a perverse opposition to whatever is already 
 established; and often proves equally mis- 
 chievous to the public and the individual. 
 
 Let him therefore who is ambitious of 
 breaking the shackles of credulity and pre- 
 judice, and who means, at the same time, to 
 be of anv real service to the world or to 
 himself, learn to prefer plain and practical 
 truth to the most plausible theories; and 
 secondly, before he goes in quest of new 
 opinions, let him carefully examine the old, 
 and remember to propose his speculations 
 with a due regard to the authority of others; 
 since, without this modesty and precaution, 
 he may come to be profane or heretical in 
 
Sect, hi.] to Virtue and Happiness. 59 
 
 religion, and seditious in politics; and to 
 need that control from his superiors, which 
 he is uhwilling to exercise upon himself. 
 
 Indeed to restrain the excesses of a spirit 
 of inquiry, without depriving society in 
 ^me measure of its use, is, I suppose, be- 
 yond the reach of pohtical wisdom. All 
 human advantages must be taken as they 
 exist, entangled with evils which it is impos- 
 sible entirely to separate ; if we can get rid 
 of the more importunate, it is all we can 
 reasonably expect. Wise and moderate 
 governments will therefore lean to the side 
 of discussion, as generally tending to their 
 own improvement, and the common good 
 of mankind ; and will think it sufficient 
 if they can prevent its more material incon- 
 veniences. 
 
 III. The connection of civil government, 
 or of a social state, with Virtue and Happi- 
 ness, will yet further appear, if we consider 
 it as a species of moral discipline, first in 
 respect to the Will ; and secondly, to the 
 Passions. 
 
 Notwithstanding some preceding strictures 
 
60 Liheriy in relation [Part i. 
 
 upon this subject, it is one of so much im- 
 }3ortance as to deserve a more particular 
 and distinct consideration. 
 
 We all know that habits are formed by 
 repeated acts, and that every faculty is in- 
 vigorated by exercise ; this is eminently 
 true respecting the Will. Let a child be 
 suffered for sometime to do as he pleases, 
 and we see him become headv and violent, 
 indignant at the least opposition, and de- 
 termined to pursue every object that strikes 
 his fancy. Nor is it absvolutelj' necessary 
 that the object be naturally desirable; the 
 will can lend it attractions by the mere act 
 of choosing it, though before indifferent. 
 And in things pleasing in themselves, it is 
 an infusion of self-will which often gives 
 them an additional relish. Nav, what is 
 still more strange, such is the malignant 
 potency of this principle, that it can trans- 
 form even misery itself into something more 
 desirable than happiness, when flowing from 
 obedience and due subordination. 
 
 " Better {says satan) to reign in hell, than serve in 
 heaven." 
 
 It must therefore be highly dangerous for 
 
Sect, r 1 1.] to Virtue and Happiness, Gl 
 
 a creature, naturally depraved, to be left 
 without restraint ; and should we consider 
 political government in no other light than 
 as a moral discipline, it would be found of 
 no small importance. 
 
 The chief misery of man is, that he is 
 set up for himself, affects to be his own lord, 
 and would act in disdain of all authority. 
 whatsoever. To reclaim this spirit, and 
 reduce it to a proper submission, is one 
 happy tendency of a well-ordered policy. 
 Under such a regimen a man finds himself 
 perpetually controled by salutary restric- 
 tions, and is oblisred at every turn to vield 
 up his own to the v/ill of his lawful supe- 
 riors. Thus he acquires a habit of proper 
 subjection, and the frowardness of his na- 
 ture becomes partly corrected. 
 
 Nor is the prince or chief magistrate, in 
 a limited government like our own, deprived 
 of this advantage arising from a submission 
 to just authority ; for though there is no 
 other branch of the state to which he is 
 responsible, he is still under a regular con- 
 trol from the laws and constitution of the 
 country ; an advantage which may serve no 
 
62 Liberty in relation [Part I* 
 
 less to secure his own virtue, than it is neces- 
 sary to the safety and welfare of the people. 
 
 Again : To man, as he is now disposed, 
 an unrestrained Hberty (to omit the danger 
 arising from it to his future happiness) would 
 contribute much less to his present enjoy- 
 ment than might at first be imagined. 
 Persons who can do as thej^ please, are 
 often at a loss to know what they would 
 please to do ; half their time is wasted in 
 idle suspense, and the other in wandering 
 from one design to another, v/ithout pro- 
 secuting any to good effect; and all that 
 satisfaction which arises from a useful plan 
 of life early adopted and successfully pur- 
 sued, is commonly lost bj^ those who are 
 not strictly confined to their object by the 
 authority of their superiors, or the urgency 
 of their circumstances : hence it is often 
 seen, that younger brothers, who are obliged 
 to apply themselves to a profession, pass 
 more comfortably through life than the heir 
 of the family ; who, from being left to in- 
 dulge his own humour, becomes capricious 
 and restless, uneasy to himself and to to all 
 around him. 
 
Sect, hi.] to Vhiite and Happiness, 63 
 
 There are few situations more undesira- 
 ble than that of a man left to himself) and 
 condemned to rove in his own uncertainties*. 
 As in taking a journey, when we have to 
 cross a spacious plain, the eye after a while 
 grows weary with wandering, the spirits 
 become feeble and scattered, and ^ve are 
 glad to enter an inclosed country that pre- 
 sents us with objects on which both the 
 eye and the mind may rest, and be refresh- 
 ed ; so in the journey of Hfe, those parts 
 which confine us to definite and allowable 
 pursuits, are commonly more agreeable than 
 others where we are left to roam at large. 
 
 Further : If we compare a condition of 
 moderate subjection with what is looked 
 upon in the world as a state of independence, 
 the former will appear preferable for these 
 two reasons ; first, because it is less liable 
 to anxious dehberation ; and secondly, be- 
 cause it is less responsible for consequences. 
 When a man's conduct is prescribed to him 
 
 •* It is finely observed by Tacitus of the Armenians, 
 after they had thrown off the government they were 
 under, that they became, inccriiy solufiqitey ct inagh 
 sine domino qudm iniibertate. An. lib. 2. 
 
04 Liberty in relation [Part i. 
 
 by his lawful superior, he has nothing to do 
 but practically to attend to it, provided 
 what is enjoined be neither contrary to any 
 divine command, nor to any law of immu- 
 table morality ; whereas he who has others 
 and himself at his disposal, is frequently 
 subject to the perplexity of dubious coun- 
 sels, and to the uneasiness arising from the 
 consideration, that he is answerable for every 
 measure he adopts, and for every command 
 he imposes. All this must be felt by every 
 man of principle and reflection ; and should 
 his conscience happen to be delicate and 
 scrupulous, must sometimes be felt by him 
 in a manner very painful and distressing*. 
 
 * If we consider this, we shall not wonder to find 
 many persons in the Romish church committing them- 
 selves to such as may direct them in ambiguous cases. 
 'When a tender conscience unites with a diffidence of 
 temper, it naturally seeks repose in this way. As the 
 danger however is great of mistaking its guide, and as 
 those men who are best qualified for so difficult an office 
 will be the least forward to undertake it, the Protestants 
 have properly dismissed, with other peculiarities of 
 popery, this scheme of direction^ as more likely to be 
 abused to the stupifying of conscience, than improved 
 to the relief of groundless scrupulosity. 
 
Sect. III.] toVirtue and Happiness. ^5 
 
 Secondly : That excess of liberty which 
 tends so much to vitiate the will, and to 
 produce anxious suspense, no less tends to 
 deprave the passions, and augment their 
 natural violence, which must often end in 
 bitter disappointment. The savage ferocity, 
 and enormous lewdness, with other mon- 
 strous vices, which marked the characters 
 of many of the Roman emperors, as it can- 
 not reasonably be ascribed to any extraor- 
 dinary corruption of nature, must be re- 
 solved into the want of that salutary disci- 
 pline and restraint, which served, in some 
 measure, to keep other men within the 
 bounds of virtue and decency. Nero, for 
 some years after his accession to the empire, 
 was celebrated for his moderation and cle- 
 mency ; he abolished many of the public 
 taxes, and diminished others; and when 
 called upon to sign the death-warrant of a 
 criminal, he would exclaim; ^^iimn velle?n 
 nescire literas ! How happy if I could not 
 write ! Yet this man, at length intoxicated 
 with power, became a monster of profusion 
 and cruelty ; his palace was overlaid with 
 gold, and a thousand carriages attended 
 
 F 
 
66 Liberty in relation [Part i. 
 
 him in his journies; and such was his cruelty, 
 that to this day it continues proverbial ; to 
 all which were added the most extravagant 
 and unnatural lusts, A similar depravation 
 of character is noted in Caligula, Caracalla, 
 and others of that imperial race; which 
 seems to have been raised up by Providence 
 to teach the world of what dreadful enor- 
 mities our nature is capable, when left with- 
 out control, and abandoned to its own pro- 
 pensities. But there is no necessity of re- 
 curring to former periods to show, that those 
 who have been least under the government 
 of others are generally least able to govern 
 themselves ; and that power, when it falls 
 into such hands, is commonly converted 
 into an instrument of sensuality and injus- 
 tice. We need only to take a view of our 
 own times, to be supplied with too many 
 examples to this purpose. 
 
 Nor is an unrestrained indulgence of the 
 passions more unfavourable to virtue, than 
 it is to enjoyment. This will evidently ap- 
 pear, if we attend only to their encroaching 
 and insatiable nature when left without 
 check, together with their aptness to inter- 
 
Sect, hi.] to Virtue and Happiness, 67 
 
 fere and clash with one another, Mhich, 
 separate from every moral consideration, 
 and what hereafter may take place under 
 the righteous government of God, can 
 hardly fail to breed much disquiet in the 
 bosom where they are suffered to reign un- 
 controlled. Of this, the wise monarch of 
 the Jews had full experience, which he 
 entered upon record for the warning and 
 instruction of all future ages. He sought in 
 his heart, as he tells us, to give himself unto 
 wine, and to lay hold on folly ; he made great 
 works, built houses, and planted vineyards; he 
 gatJiered silver a?id gold, and the peculiar trea-- 
 sure of kings and provinces ; gat inen-singers 
 and ivomen-singers, and the delights of the sons 
 of men : whatsoever his eyes desired he kept not 
 from them, nor withheld his heart from any joy ^ 
 And Avhat was the result of all this toilsome 
 forecast and provision ? Then, says he, / 
 looked on all the works that my hands had 
 wrought, and on the labour that I had laboured 
 to do ; and behold all was vanity and vexation 
 of spirit. From such a trial, made with 
 every possible advantage, we may there- 
 
 F 2 
 
 I 
 
68 Liberty in relation, Kc, [Part r. > 
 
 I 
 fore conclude with certainty, that to make : 
 
 the" most of the passions, even as to this 
 
 world, is not to allow them full scope, 
 
 but to subdue their natural wildness, and ' 
 
 inure them to a ready submission to the 
 
 just authority of law, both divine and hu- ! 
 
 man. 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
Sect. IV.] ( 69 ) 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 On Moral Liberti/. 
 
 There is another species of liberty, on 
 Xvhich I am willing to bestow a few strictures 
 in this place, although its connection with 
 civil government is less direct and imme- 
 diate. Should the reader think it a digres- 
 sion, it is one which I hope he will excuse, 
 on account of the importance of the sub- 
 ject. 
 
 The liberty I here intend is jiioral, and 
 consists in a power of acting in all cases 
 with an habitual and prevalent regard to 
 what is morally right. 
 
 That this is a liberty pre-eminent to all 
 others needs little illustration. What would 
 it avail a man to climb the Alps or the 
 Andes; to visit the pyramids of Egypt, or 
 the great Avail of China ; or, more wisely 
 perhaps, sit at home, under the protection 
 of equal laws, and quietly enjoy his portion 
 of the good things of this life ? What 
 
70 0?i Moral Liberty. [Part r. 
 
 would it avail him to range through all the 
 arts and sciences, and traverse the intel- 
 lectual world ; if he is held within invisible 
 chains, fettered with guilt, and tyrannized 
 by his passions*? 
 
 Instead therefore of insisting upon a topic 
 sufficiently evident of itself^ let us proceed 
 to consider briefly, whether this liberty is 
 now a part of our natural inheritance ; and, 
 if not, in what way we may acquire it. 
 
 1. Whether we place moral virtue in a 
 conformity to the reason and fitness of things, 
 or to the truth of things, or to their intrinsic 
 worth and excellence ; it will appear that 
 the bulk of mankind are without the im- 
 
 * The above remark was perhaps never more strikingly 
 exemplified than in the late M. de Voltaire, whose ver- 
 satility of genius could pass with facility and vigour from 
 poetry to mathematics, from history to philosophy, from 
 physics to metaphysics : this, however, although it gave 
 variety and extent to his intellectual acquisitions, ren- 
 dered them superficial and trifling, by preventing a regu- 
 lar and steady application to any one subject. Every 
 difficulty apparently giving way before him, he seems 
 to have satisfied himself with the idea of what he could 
 have accomplished, and to have assumed the praise of 
 genius, without attaining the reality of knowledge. 
 
f 
 
 Sect. IV.] On Moral Libcity, 71 
 
 mediate power of thus confonning their 
 actions, and consequently without moral 
 lihertv. 
 
 God, as Creator, is the absolute proprie- 
 tor of the universe, and has a right to do 
 what he will with his own ; as possessed of 
 infinite perfection, he alone is qualified to 
 govern the world he lias created: if we 
 combine this right and fitness, we shall ar- 
 rive at an adequate ground for an unlimited 
 and voluntarv submission to the divine au- 
 thority and administration. 
 
 What can be more fit and reasonable, or 
 more according to the truth of things, than 
 to bow to his dominion whose property we 
 are, and from whose power it is impossible 
 to escape ; whose perfection should lead us, 
 even though we were naturally mdepend- 
 ent, to place ourselves in subjection to him, 
 as the only way to attain the highest dignity 
 and felicitv of our nature ? Wherein does 
 true virtue consist, but in rating things as 
 they are, in valuing every thing according 
 to its real worth, and consequently involving 
 in it an unlimited regard to that Being 
 whose excellence is infinite r 
 
72 On Moral Liberty, [Part i. 
 
 Such a regard is undoubtedly required 
 from us, and from the whole intelligent 
 creation, upon every principle of reason 
 and fitness, of truth and excellence, of 
 duty and interest. Yet how little this is 
 rendered by men in general, and how little 
 they are immediately capable of rendering 
 it, will be evident upon a very slight exa- 
 mination. 
 
 No proud man has the present power 
 thus to regard his Maker, any more than 
 he has the power instantly to assume a spirit 
 of humility and dependance. He who has 
 been accustomed to indulge his own will 
 and humour, is in no immediate capacity 
 of freely sacrificing both to the will of ano- 
 ther, and of submitting all his thoughts, 
 words, and actions to divine control. He 
 who has been used to do homage to himself^ 
 and perhaps to receive it from others, has 
 no proximate power voluntarily to abase 
 himself before the holiness and majesty of 
 God, in whose presence all creatures are as 
 nothing, and sinful creatures worse than 
 nothing. Every proud man is therefore mo- 
 rally a slave, without the power of doing that 
 
Sect. IV.] Ofi Moral Liberty. 73 
 
 which it is morally fit and right he should 
 do. 
 
 The man of pleasure labours under tlie 
 same wretched im potency. He is at liberty 
 to pursue the gratifications of sense, to chase 
 the fading beauties of the world, and per- 
 haps to seize various forms of excellence in 
 art and nature ; but he is not at liberty for 
 spiritual enjoyments, to taste the refined 
 pleasures of devotion, or to delight in the 
 perfections of the divine nature. His wings 
 are dipt, he can only flutter round the 
 earth, and has no power of soaring aloft, 
 
 ** To the first good, first perfect, and first fair." 
 
 Men devoted to wealth have, if possible, 
 still less capacity to perceive the beautv, or 
 to feel the obli ration of true relio'ion and 
 virtue ; such is their degradation, that they 
 are often looked down upon with contempt 
 even by their fellow-slaves, as the low 
 drudges of the world, and as utterly devoid 
 of every noble and generous sentiment. 
 
 We may therefore conclude, that the 
 bulk of mankind are without the present 
 jpower of preferring, actually and in prac- 
 
74 071 Moral Liberty, [Part i. 
 
 tice, the excellence and felicity of virtue, 
 to the riches, the pleasures, and the pride 
 of the world ; consequently, that they are 
 destitute of true moral liberty, and are 
 slaves in the most deplorable sense. 
 
 Of this state of bondage the wiser hea- 
 thens appear to have had some obscure no- 
 tion, derived from tradition, which they 
 dressed up after their own fancy. Plato 
 represents the soul as originally winged, and 
 flying through the heavens in the train of 
 Jupiter and the gods ; and at certain seasons 
 he supposes her to have been admitted into 
 some super-celestial region, where she con- 
 templated truth, virtue, and justice, in their 
 source. Thus, he says, she continued in- 
 expressibly happy, till neglecting to accom- 
 pany the chariot of Jupiter, being seduced by 
 her passion for Nectar and Ambrosia, she lost 
 her wings, fell to the earth, and was sunk into 
 the bodv*. Could Plato have told us how she 
 might recover her wings, and again mount 
 aloft to the banquet of the gods, he would 
 have told us what we are principally con- 
 
 * See Plato's Phsedrus. 
 
Sect. iv.J (hi Moral Liberty. 75 
 
 cerned to know, but what is only taught 
 in the school of Christ. Even Pcrpliyry, 
 who was so determined a foe to the chris- 
 tian religion, and so perfectly acquainted 
 with the most refined and mysterious doc- 
 trines of paganism, says, '* he had not 
 learned that any universal n>ethod of libe- 
 rating the soul, hacFyet been discovered by 
 the wisdom of philosophy*." 
 
 2. Let us then endeavour to relieve this 
 darkness of philosophy by the light of re- 
 velation. 
 
 All beings, in their original state, were 
 perfect in their kind, w^ithout the least de- 
 fect, moral or physical. After the forma- 
 tion of man, God is represented as looking 
 down upon his works with complacency, 
 and pronouncing them vcfy good, as answer- 
 able to the great idea that existed in his own 
 eternal mind. Man more eminently bore 
 the image of his Maker, and approached 
 him with filial delight and confidence. Thus 
 was he constituted in honour and happiness, 
 but he continued not ; he soon incurred the 
 
 # See Aug. de Civit Dei. Lib. x. cap. 32. 
 
76 On Moral Liberty, [Part i. 
 
 divine displeasure by his disobedience, and 
 exposed himself and his posterity to known 
 and unknown evils. 
 
 In this state of ruin, God again looked 
 down upon man, and looked down in mercy 
 as well as judgment. In the sentence pro- 
 nounced upon the tempter was conveyed an 
 intimation of favour to the human race, 
 through the seed of the woman; by which 
 ^cefifweare authorized, from subsequent re- 
 velations, to understand Jesus the Son of 
 God. 
 
 What would have been the future des- 
 tiny of man, or whether he w^ould have 
 been brought into existence at all, had not 
 a gracious provision been made for his reco- 
 very upon the foresight of his lapse ; as it 
 hath not, that I know of, been expressly 
 revealed, it would seem to me presumption 
 in any man to determine. God himself 
 only can tell what it would have become 
 him to do in a conjuncture which never 
 existed, and which was never intended to 
 exist. 
 
 What concerns us to be acquainted with, 
 is our present actual situation ; that we no 
 
Sect, iv.] Ofi Moral Liberty, 77 
 
 longer stand before God upon the ground 
 of creation but of redemption; that all the 
 help and hope of which we participate, is 
 derived to us only through a Mediator ; and 
 that as we improve or neglect our advan- 
 tages, we shall be dealt w^ith in the final 
 judgment. 
 
 \{\ therefore, every good w^hich now is 
 derived to man is in virtue of the mediation 
 of Christ, then moral liberty, which is a 
 principal one, must flow to us in this chan- 
 nel. In vain would you expect to find it 
 in the Stoa, or the Lyceum, in the groves 
 of the Academy, or the gardens of Epicurus; 
 or in any of our modern and improved 
 schools of deism and legislative philosophy. 
 The gospel contains the only scheme, and 
 is the only proclamation of true liberty that 
 the world was ever acquainted with; a 
 liberty from guilt and tyrannic passions ; a 
 liberty to obey the laws of piety, and the 
 dictates of uncorrupted nature ; a liberty 
 T^eyond all others to be welcomed with cor- 
 dial gratulations. When the Greeks w^ere 
 restored to the enjoyment of their ancient 
 laws and immunities by the Roman general 
 
78 On Mcn^al Liberty, [Part i. 
 
 Flaminiiis, their acclamations, as Plutarch 
 tells us, were heard out at sea, and the 
 birds, which were passing at the time, 
 stunned with the noise, dropped down in 
 the midst of the assembly, who unanimously 
 hailed Flaminius as the saviour and defender 
 of Greece. Yet how trivial was this pro- 
 clamation of the proconsul, compared Avith 
 that made bv the Saviour of the world, 
 when, in the synagogue of Nazareth, he 
 stood up and read fi^om the prophet Isaias, 
 The spirit of the Lord is npoii vie, because he 
 hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the 
 poor, he hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, 
 to preach deliverance to the captives, and reco- 
 vering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty 
 them tJiat are bruised, to preach the acceptable 
 year of the Lord*, Were these tidings uni- 
 versally published, and duly credited, the 
 whole world could not fail to unite in accla- 
 mations of gladness. 
 
 As nothing so much dignifies our nature 
 as moral liberty, we might chiefly expect to 
 find it among those, who, by their rank in 
 
 * ^ Luke, ch. iv. ver. 16. 21. 
 
Sect, i v.] On Moral Liberty, ^^j 79 ^ ^'J 
 
 society, are taught to aspire after whatever .^j^^ 
 is laudable and excellent. Yet such an 
 expectation is not justified by fact; neither 
 the abodes of splendor nor of greatness, 
 neither courts nor senates, have hitherto 
 been the favourite haunts of that freedom, 
 which implies an exemption from the power 
 of sensuality, avarice, and ambition. 
 
 It is however the glory of Christianity, 
 that it can liberate the mind in all exterior 
 circumstances; in the highest elevation of 
 power and fortune, and in the lowest con- 
 dition of bondage. Daniel displayed this 
 nobility of spirit amidst all the fascination 
 of worldly greatness, when seated next the 
 imperial throne ; he displayed too the same 
 spirit in a den of lions. Paul and Silas,, 
 when thrust into prison at Philippi, and 
 fastened in the stocks, by singing praises to 
 God at midnight, showed that no shackles 
 could bind the inner man*. And how su- 
 perior to king Agrippa does the former ap- 
 pear, when, pleading his cause before him, 
 he uttered this fervent wish : / would to God^ 
 
 * Acts, chap. xvi. 
 
80 On Moral Liberty. [Part r. 
 
 that not only thou, but all ivho hear vie this day^ 
 toere both almost and altogether such as I anif 
 except these bonds ^' ! And at this day, among 
 those highly-injured Africans, whose civil 
 emancipation has of late been so nobly at- 
 tempted, some, we have reason to beheve, by 
 the spread of the gospel among them, are 
 emancipated from tiie thraldom of sin, and 
 made denizons of heaven. Whether this be 
 always the case with their oppressors, or 
 even with their advocates, is a point which 
 may deserve their most serious considera- 
 tion. Certainlv, whoever has a heart to 
 tvrannize over the meanest of his fellow* 
 creatures, must forfeit everv claim to the 
 dignity of moral freedom. Nor has a pa- 
 triot much to boast of his superior character, 
 if* Avliile he promises liberty to others, he- 
 himself is a slave of depravity; such a 
 patriot, preaching political freedom in chains 
 of moral bondage, is just the reverse of 
 Paul the apostle. 
 
 It is only in the kingdom of God that a 
 spirit of liberty is universal, and runs through 
 
 * Acts, chap. xxvi. . 
 
Sjsct. IV.] On Moral Liberty, 81 
 
 every rank of subordination. Even the 
 enslaved negro, (as now observed) if a sub- 
 ject of this kingdom, is free in the most 
 exalted sense, by holding, as it were, in 
 capite^ under the great Lord of the uni- 
 
 verse. 
 
 (^T^ 
 
 AA V- 
 
 If such then be the ennoblinoj nature of 
 moral liberty ; if, Avith it, the most oppressed 
 African is free, and, without it,, the freest 
 ^Briton is a slave ; let the reader be persuaded 
 to use/e:Very endeavour to securi^ its posses- 
 sion, by becoming a subject of that king- 
 jdiOm where alone it can possibly exist. 
 
 S{f^. 
 
 ■[ ri 
 
 :t01U ^Ci 
 
 If'T . :tiifM ,;( [jfiK 5 
 
 ijiii.t 07,J :>i; 
 
 .1 
 
 19 :iii 
 
 >iiJ : 
 
 •KJ 
 
 u 
 
 -:: '. ..f.3 efij OJ 
 :<-j C\iU iii 
 
( 82 :.)sA. [Part I. 
 
 I" 
 / 
 
 ■ } ■ -....• i J I , ■ •'' 
 
 SECTION V. J 
 
 1^ -J — 
 
 ii 
 
 The liiflumce of Civil Goxkimment oh Virtue 
 and Happiness, from the Relation it bean to | 
 Property, ''^^^^-^ ^^' \ ^^- 
 
 ^ 'Another principal dbject of government 
 h^^^p7oper(y f^kvhih thik^ i&left unprotected,, 
 and opeil ttJ'dfeprfedation^, society cto never l 
 rise above a ^vage state; no flocks and If 
 herds will be reared, no lands will be cut- -^ 
 tivated, no regular provision will be made:^ 
 for the supply of human wants. It is only ^j 
 a secure enjoyment of what is acquired, ,k 
 that will stimulate industry, and quickenjj 
 invention ; that will accumulate stock, andl^ 
 produce those various arts that are necessary j 
 to the existence and order of civil life. 
 
 In this progress of society from rudenesi^i 
 to refinement, it may be proper to considen 
 three periods, and the aspect that each ofi 
 them bears upon virtue and happiness. The 
 first will detain us little ; the two latter will 
 demand a more particular attention. 
 
 ;> 
 
Sect, v.] Property in relation, &!c. 83 
 
 I. On the period preceding the fall establish" 
 ment of laws, or of any regular ineans of huvian 
 subsistence. 
 
 Little need be said to show the discoa- 
 ragements that he in the way to virtue and 
 happiness during this period. 
 
 Let us suppose a number of colonists to 
 plant themselves in a country that is barren 
 or uncultivated, where the labour of many 
 years would be necessary, before they could 
 sit down without solicitude for the next day's 
 provision; and where as many years more 
 must be added, before they could settle a sys- 
 tem of laws and regulations adapted to their 
 present circumstances. It is evident that 
 such a state of insecurity and anxious toil, 
 while it threatened the utter extinction of 
 a feeble virtue, would put the most con- 
 firmed and vigorous to a severe trial. Nor 
 is it less obvious, that such a situation would 
 be equally unfavourable to triie enjoyment. 
 
 What is here asserted in a particular case, 
 must hold true of political communities in 
 genera], previous to the complete establish- 
 ment of laws and government, and before 
 labour is provided with fit materials and 
 
 G 2 
 
84 Property in relation [Parti. 
 
 instruments, and distributed into its proper 
 channels. For the truth of this, tvere i1 
 not sufficiently evident of itself, we niiojhif 
 appeal to the testimony of universal his-'' 
 tory. , ■ ■ : • ■ ') 
 
 1 
 
 II. The second period is. When the 7nasi 
 of citizens are able to provide comfortably fo\ 
 themselves and families by' moderate labour, am 
 ')\ot> xcitJiout it ; and t^' hen thoselofa, 9itperio\ 
 rank are neither by- their numberAtiM ^vealth o^ 
 sufficient influence ta disturb this syst-em of mtl 
 diocrity. 
 
 It has been observed in a former section'' 
 that no political skill can permanently rais 
 a societ}' above the necessit}^ of mpderat 
 labour in the bulk of its members*ii Thi' 
 
 il 
 
 fe 
 
 is so far from being a circumstance to be re 
 gretted, that, on the ^ whole, ,it is highll; 
 
 favourable to the cause of virtue and har ' 
 
 ■*"f' 
 
 piness, to which few things are more ad vers, 
 than the want of regular occupation; an; 
 
 '* IlT there be any exception^ to this, they can only II 
 found in a few highly-favoured climates, where natu:^ 
 furnishes almost of herself all that is needful for hiim^ 
 "subsistence. 
 
 im 
 m 
 
 on 
 
Sect. v. J to Virtue and Happiness. 85 
 
 men, swayed as thej^ are by pleasure and 
 pride, together with no small portion of 
 indolence, cannot be expected to mark out 
 such occupation for themselves, especially 
 if* it bei of a kind both humble and laborious 
 (the species that is often most wanted) un- 
 less compelled by the exigency of their 
 situation. 
 
 All, therefore, that the best government 
 can reasonably intend, is to preserve its 
 subjects from the necessity of that excessive 
 toil w^hich wastes the health, exhausts the 
 spirits, discourages virtue, and renders hfe 
 cheerless and uncomfortable ; and to pro- 
 mote every measure that mav secure a w ill- 
 ing and moderate exertion, and leave the 
 mind at sufficient libertv to attend to its own 
 peculiar and most important interests. 
 
 Further, let it be observed, that the kind, 
 as well as the degree of labour, under the 
 above system of mediocrity, is favourable 
 to virtue and virtuous enjoyment. For, in 
 this state of things, there would be no de- 
 mand, or none to produce any sensible 
 effect, for such curiosities or luxuries, in dress 
 or diet, in houses or equipage, as tended to 
 
86 Property in relation [Part r. 
 
 corrupt the imagination, and excite the \ 
 envy of those who were employed to pro- 
 vide them ; and so to render them discon- - 
 tented with their own present situation. \ 
 On the contrary, the business of the labour- 
 ing classes would be to supply the simple 
 wants of nature, or those modest conve- ! 
 niences, with which the proudest of their 
 fellow-citizens, and their fathers before them, 
 were used to be satisfied. 
 
 It is not meant, however, by what is now 
 advanced, that every one should be engaged 
 in manual occupations, or in such as are of 
 primary necessity; which, even in a small 
 nation, might be inexpedient or impractica- 
 ble. For suppose such a nation, planted' 
 in some favourable climate, where one half, 
 of them was sufficient to provide for the 
 physical wants of the whole; of the other 
 half, but a small proportion could properly 
 be employed as physicians, philosophers, 
 lawyers, or divines ; and unless some new 
 occupations be struck out to preserve the 
 rest from idleness, distressing must be the ; 
 condition, and probably short the duration i 
 of this little state. It is enough, therefore. 
 
Sect, v.] to Virtue and Happiness. 87 
 
 if no member of a body politic be left im- 
 employed in one way or other, innocently 
 as to himself, and with some advantage to 
 his fellow-citizens. 
 
 Such employment is one ef the greatest 
 political objects : where this is duly provided 
 for, where every citizen is usefully and ho- 
 nestly engaged, or, in other words, where 
 idleness is excluded, and the arts of luxury 
 are unknown, all must tend to individual 
 and general good. 
 
 Whether any people was ever placed 
 precisely in this happy mediocrity, or whe- 
 ther it is an effect within the reach of human 
 policy, may fairly be questioned. It is 
 however certain, that in the progress of 
 nations from barbarism to refinement, there 
 is a point of nearest approach to this middle 
 condition; and that to note when society 
 has arrived at this point, there to arrest its 
 progress and fix its station, or, if this can- 
 not be effected, to hang upon its wheels, 
 that its further advance may be as little and 
 as slow as possible, is a design worthy the 
 best attention, and the best efforts of the 
 legislator, the patriot, or the philosopher. 
 
88 . Property in relation [Part i. 
 
 III. On the third and last period, xvhen the 
 number of rich citizens constitutes a comiderahle 
 part of the conununiti/. 
 
 (i.) We have shown in the introduction 
 to this work, that the love of pleasure, the 
 love of consequence, and the love of wealth, 
 are the three great principles which rule in 
 the bulk of mankind; with this difference, 
 that wealth, although sometimes sought on 
 its own account, is mostly regarded in sub- 
 serviency to the two former objects, or as 
 it encourages and promotes the pride and 
 indulgences of life. In what respects it 
 does this, may appear from the following 
 reflections. 
 
 1. As a man's consequence in the world 
 much depends on the figure he makes in it, 
 he will commonly be disposed to make the 
 best he can. A tradesman who begins to 
 thrive in his business, will display his grow- 
 ing fortune by his personal appearance, and 
 by the improvement of his house and fur- 
 niture ; if he goes on to prosper, he will 
 increase the number of his servants, set up 
 his carriage, provide himself with a retreat 
 in the country, ^ovaefermc ornce, or elegant 
 
Sect, v.] to Virtue and Happiness, 89 
 
 villa, with well-stored gardens and orna- 
 mented grounds; and at length, perhaps, 
 with almost a princely income, will with- 
 draw himself entirely from mercantile af- 
 fairs, and, if recommended by a little ad- 
 dress and education, may find admission 
 into the higher circles of society, and there 
 form new connections and alliances. A 
 like accession of wealth in any other way, 
 will furnish out a similar career, and con- 
 duct to the same splendid distinctions to 
 which others succeed by inheritance. All 
 this must be observed by every one who at 
 all looks abroad into the world, and, by an 
 equitable judge, will be observed without a 
 monkish or a republican severity. But 
 however it may be granted, that in the 
 advanced stages of society, a difference of 
 rank, whether acquired or hereditary, with 
 answerable outward distinctions, may be 
 necessarv to the maintenance of social order, 
 and that such distinctions imply inequality 
 of fortune, we must still lament, that this 
 inequality is so often perverted from its 
 proper use, to gratify a spirit of pride, or 
 to the indulgence of a vain parade. 
 
90 Property in reliition [Part i. 
 
 2, Another effect of wealth is dissipation 
 and amusement, especially among the no- 
 bility and gentry of a country. Persons of 
 this rank being bred to no business, and, in 
 general, I fear, unprovided with any great 
 store of knowledge or learning ; unformed 
 to habits of application, or to the steady 
 pursuit of any useful or laudable object; 
 must almost inevitably be given up to a 
 scattered and dissipated life. Plays and 
 operas, balls and assemblies, gambling and 
 horse-racing, with other empty and boister- 
 ous pastimes, will probably occupy their 
 chief attention. Or, if there is any one 
 who happens to be cast in a finer mould, 
 to be endued with a taste for the polite arts 
 or the belles lettres, he is likely to saunter 
 away the day in some gallery of painting 
 or statuary, antique or modern ; in inspect- 
 ing the cabinets of the curious, and other 
 similar exhibitions ; and to pass his evening, 
 unless occasionally engaged at a concert or 
 at the theatre, in something that he sup- 
 poses to be literate or philosophical conver- 
 sation. And should there yet remain a 
 listless interval, he will probably fill it up 
 
Sect, v.] to Virtue and Happiness. 91 
 
 with some sentimental volume which re- 
 quires no attention, and yields no instruc- 
 tion ; or, at best, which has in it more of 
 taste or delicacy, than of solidity or argu- 
 ment. That this, in the main, is a just 
 description, I think few of my readers 
 will deny ; and it is willingly admitted that 
 there are many noble and honourable ex- 
 ceptions. 
 
 What is here said of the higher orders 
 of society is proportionably true of all the 
 rest. Wherever there is wealth, there will 
 be dissipation. There are few opulent 
 merchants or tradesmen so deeply engaged 
 in their shop or their counting-house, as 
 not to find time for amusement beyond 
 what is necessary for mere relaxation. And 
 after they have entirel57^ withdrawn from 
 business, their amusements will multiply 
 of course, although their habits of employ- 
 ment, by leading them to agriculture, or 
 some other practical object, may seldom 
 suffer them to lapse totally into a dissipated 
 life. 
 
 3. Again : Wealth is almost sure to be 
 attended with a proportionable degree of 
 
92 Property in relation [Part i. 
 
 sensual gratification. It requires no proof, 
 that, as riches accumulate, men are gene- 
 rally disposed to allow a larger scope to a 
 wanton and capricious appetite. They will 
 spread their tables, not only with super- 
 fluous abundance, but also with increasing 
 variety and curiosity ; and sometimes to a 
 degree of extravagance, as if they meant 
 to emulate that luxurious prince, who, to 
 humour his palate, would provide himself 
 with the tongues of singing birds, and the 
 brains of pheasants, would eat no fish when 
 he happened to be near the sea-coast, and 
 no flesh at a distance from it; as if he 
 thought that fare still the best which was 
 most scarce or costly*. I am aware that 
 this might as well arise from vanity as from 
 a surfeited appetite ; and should any one 
 choose to resolve it into the former, it would 
 yet serve to illustrate our general argument. 
 A similar progress may be observed in other 
 cases of animal indulgence. Instead of 
 floors of bare earth, or covered with straw 
 or rushes -f-, we come gradually to tread on 
 
 * Larapridius in vita Heliog. 
 
 t " The strewing a floor with straw or rushes was com- 
 
Sect, v.] to Virile and Happiness. 93 
 
 Avarm and elegant carpets, and to stretch 
 ourselves on beds of down instead of straw- 
 pallets, with a log of wood for a bolster*, 
 
 mori in Queen Elizabeth's time, not excepting even her 
 presence chamber." Lord Kaimes' Sketches of the His- 
 tori/ of Man y vol. i. p. 326. — " An old tenure in England 
 binds the vassal to find straw for the king's bed, and hay 
 for his horses." Id. vol. ii. p. 122. 
 
 * Holingshed, who wrote in the reign of Elizabeth, 
 has the following passage in the preface to his history. 
 •V There are old men yet dwelling in the village where I 
 remain, \yhich have noted two things to be marvellously 
 altered in England within their sound remembrance. 
 One is the multitude of chimnies lately erected ; whereas, 
 in theii young days, there were not above two or three, 
 if so many, in most uplandish towns of the realm. 
 The second is, the great amendment of lodging : For, 
 said they, our fathers, and we ourselves, have laid 
 full oft upon straw-pallets, with a good round log under 
 their head instead of a bolster. If it were so that the 
 father, or the good man of the house, had a mattress 
 or flock bed, and thereto a sack of chaff to rest his 
 head upon, he thought himself to be as well lodged as the 
 lord of the town : so well were they contented. Pillows, 
 said they, were thought meet only for women in child- 
 bed." In this last opinion they have been followed at 
 a much later period in the northern part of this island, 
 if we may credit the following anecdote told by Lord 
 Kaimes: " A knot of islanders," says he, "benighted, 
 wrapped themselves up in their plaids, and Jay down in 
 
94 Property in relation [Part I. 
 
 Instances of grosser and more licentious 
 indulgence I forbear to specify ; as I have 
 no mind to paint out scenes of low de- 
 bauchery, to trace the haunts of lewdness 
 and prostitution, or to dwell on -evils, which, 
 in the present circumstances of the world, 
 are, I fear, more to be lamented than 
 remedied. 
 
 All these effects are much heightened by 
 competition, in that state of society now un- 
 der review; in which the opulent part of 
 a nation is supposed to bear a considerable 
 proportion to the whole. In this case, one 
 rich citizen will vie with another in every 
 form of ostentatious splendour and luxurious 
 gratification. 
 
 Further : When a state is arrived at this 
 point of wealth and refinement, its rich and 
 pampered citizens will lay out for foreign 
 
 the snow to sleep. A young gentleman, making up a ball 
 of snow, used it for a pillow. His father (Sir Evan* 
 Cameron) striking away the ball with hisfbot. What, 
 Sir, said he, are you turning effeminate ?'* This, in- 
 deed, is carrying the doctrine of indulgence to a point of 
 rigour that would scarce be required in the hospice of 
 St. Bernard. 
 
Sect, v.] to Virtue and Happhicss. 95 
 
 luxurios. After tliev liave exhausted their 
 own country, they will look to i^mote 
 dimes for fresh accessions ; men-singers and 
 women-singers will be imported to delight 
 the eai' ; and every delicacy of land and 
 water will be ])rocured to regale the }ialate ; 
 and earth and sea be ransacked to obtain 
 some new indulgence to their pride or plea- 
 sure. How far all this may contribute even 
 to their present enjoyment is extremely 
 dubious; and no one will suppose that it 
 can be of use to improve their virtue. 
 
 (ii.)i If we turn our view to the effects of 
 wealth on the lower orders of society, we 
 shall find them correspondent to those we 
 have now described. 
 
 1. As wealth creates new wants, more 
 labour will be required to satisfy them, and 
 its rewards will be proportionable to the 
 demand. Many trades and handicrafts will 
 be promoted, which in other circumstances 
 would languishj or have no existence. And 
 so far as this goes to furnish employment to 
 such as before had none, or none sufficient 
 for their subsistence; or to enable a sober 
 industrious citizen a little to improve his 
 
96 Property in relation [Part t* 
 
 style of living, or, with less anxiety, to live 
 in the same style to which he had been ac- 
 customed; and, in addition to this, to lay 
 up something against future contingencies ; 
 no man, who is not of more than ordinary 
 severity, will consider such a result as either 
 morally or politically injurious. 
 
 2, Other effects in this advanced stage 
 of society are less favourable. Many who 
 are raised above their former mediocritv, 
 or that condition of life in which they lived 
 comfortably with moderate labour, will find 
 it to their manifest detriment; as hereby 
 they will be tempted, either to waste a part 
 of their time in idle indulgence, (which is 
 the case of many of our artizans at present, 
 who in four days can earn the reward of 
 six) or to raise their stated mode of living 
 beyond what they are able to support 
 And these evils will be increased by the 
 contagious example of those above them; 
 for though luxury begins, it will not long- 
 be confined among the higher orders; from 
 the first it will descend to the second, till 
 at length it reaches the labouring classes* 
 Their wants will thus gro.w more numerous; 
 
Sect, v.] to Virtue and Happiness, 97 
 
 what before was a luxury, will be counted 
 a necessary ; and whilst their means of liv- 
 ing are augmented, the real ease and com- 
 fort of life will be diminished. 
 
 3. May I be allowed further to observe, 
 that these consequences may become still 
 more aggravated by a successful foreign 
 commerce. It is true, that, by a constant 
 influx of riches into a country, which will 
 be the case while the balance of trade con- 
 tinues in its favour, a poor nation may be 
 raised to that state of mediocrity we have 
 before described ; but here the good effects 
 will cease. Should a sudden flow of wealth^ 
 elevate the major part of it a step higher, 
 it can only be (as formerly remarked) for a 
 short season ; some will grow idle ; others, 
 having just tasted the intoxicating cup of 
 luxury, will contract new wants much 
 faster than they will be able to supply them; 
 besides, a suflicient number of labouring 
 poor would not be left behind to perform 
 the necessary drudgery of life, which those, 
 therefore, w^ho had lately raised themselves 
 a degree above them, must either do for 
 
 H 
 
98 « Property in relation [Part i, 
 
 themselves, or pay down a price for it, 
 which might soon reduce them to their for* 
 mer level, if not below it. Lastlj'', should 
 the commercial balance turn against the 
 country, the consequences might be yetj 
 more distressing ; such a shock could hardly , 
 fail to throw multitudes out of employment, j 
 labour would have to find out new chan- i 
 nels, many private fortunes might be sub- 
 verted, and the very existence of the state} 
 be brought into danger. 
 
 Hence it may appear, first, that a per- 
 petually increasing commerce ultimately 
 tends to depress the mass of a people beneath 
 mediocrity, however it may elevate the 
 fortunes of individuals ; and, secondly, that 
 in respect to manners, its effect is to cor-Jj 
 rupt a virtuous country, however it may 
 serve to civilize and improve a barbarous J j 
 one*. i 
 
 What then shall we think of that policj! 
 
 * Le commerce corrompt les moeurs pures ; cetoit 11 
 sujet dcs plaintes de Platon : il polit et adoucit les moeur 
 Wbares, comme nouslc voyons tons les jours. 
 
 MoNTESQL^ Espr. dcs loix. Liv. xx.ch. 1. M^ 
 
 i 
 
Sect, v.] to Virtue and Happiness, 99 
 
 which would grasp the trade of the world, 
 and in its expansive views, overlooking that 
 system of mediocrity which is the natural 
 seat of virtue and true enjoyment, would 
 let in upon a country an overflow of riches, 
 which is sure to be followed bv luxury, with 
 all its mischievous consequences ? Yet to 
 establish a better policy, in the latter pe- 
 riods of a great and commercial nation, 
 without giving a check to its industry, and 
 jmpairinjj those resources that are neces- 
 sary to its very existence, may be a matter 
 of much difficulty. 
 
 But though a complete reform in this 
 case" might exceed the utmost human efforts, 
 yet something might be done : though it 
 tnight be impossible to call back the political 
 sun to the meridian, after it was passed, his 
 further descent might be retarded. By 
 heavy imposts on luxury its progress might 
 be checked, and manj^ of its pernicious 
 effects diminished. A multitude of hands 
 might be recovered to agriculture and use- 
 ful manufactures, that are now retained by 
 the more opulent citizens in vicious indul- 
 
 h2 
 
100 Property in relation [Part i, 
 
 gence, or that are engaged in occupations 
 which minister only to curiosity, or luxurious 
 gratification * ; a vast quantity of surface 
 that is now consumed by superfluous horses, 
 might be converted to the growth of corn, 
 or the pasturing of those flocks and herds 
 which contribute so largely to our clothing 
 and sustenance ; and such a proportionate 
 tax might be laid on propert}^ as would 
 confine it within limits more consistent with 
 the general welfare, and produce a present 
 sensible relief to the national burdens. The 
 utility of these or similar measures must be \ 
 easily discerned ; and there wants nothing ' 
 but pubUc spirit both to discern and to carry 
 them into execution. But this want is all. 
 — It is for want of this, that a great nationi 
 may proceed from one excess to another,, 
 
 •% u Perhaps two-thirds of the manufactures of Enrg-' 
 land are employed upon articles of confessed luxury, 
 ornament, or splendor; in the superfluous embellish-, 
 ment of some articles which are useful in their kind, oi 
 upon others which have no conceivable use or value: 
 but what is founded in caprice or fashion." 
 
 Paley*s Mor. and Pol. Phil. vol. ii. p. 369. 
 
Sect, v.] to Virtue and Happiness. 101 
 
 till at length it arrive at a period when it 
 can neither endure its diseases nor their 
 remedies*. 
 
 * " Labente paulatim disclpllna, velut desidcnt esprimo 
 mores — deinde magis magisquc lapsi — turn ire casperint 
 praecipites — donee ad h^vc tempora^ quibiis nee vitia nos- 
 tra^ nee remcdia pati possiiynusy perventuni est.** Liv. 
 Hist. lib. 1. initio. 
 
( 102 ) [Paet I, 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 In which it is considered, how far the favour^ 
 able Aspect of Wealth on the liberal Arts and 
 Sciences, may he urged in Abatement of what 
 has been advanced in the last Section, 
 
 It may probably here be alleged, that 
 it is hardly fair to insist on the allowed ten- 
 dency of wealth to produce pride, dissipa- 
 tion, and sensual indulgence, with an inr 
 numerable train of low and vicious arts ; 
 and not to consider, on the other side, its 
 happier tendency to promote those more 
 liberal arts and sciences, which refine the 
 taste, enlarge the understanding, and im- 
 prove the moral character. Let us then 
 enquire, for a moment, into the force of this 
 allegation. 
 
 That the fine arts cannot flourish without 
 the fostering hand of riches is granted. 
 Men, till they are provided with the neces- 
 saries and the principal conveniences of life. 
 
Sect, vi.] Connection of Virtue, ^V. 103 
 
 are not disiposed to look out for its elegances; 
 and what meets with little encouragement 
 can make but little progress. No great 
 artist was ever produced among a horde of 
 savage?, nor during that first period of a 
 community when it was struggling for estab- 
 lishment. 
 
 It is true also, that, by cultivating the 
 arts in question, a just and quick perception 
 of natural fitness and proportion, of har- 
 monv and beauty, is formed ; nor can it be 
 denied, that natural excellence bears some 
 analogy to moral, and will suggest it to a 
 mind duly disposed ; or, if you please, that 
 they are species under the same genus of or- 
 der* ; the one consisting in a just arrange- 
 ment and harmony of lines and figures, the 
 other of human dispositions and actions. 
 But then, let it be remembered, that these 
 are species so remote from each other, that 
 men the most exquisitely alive to artificial 
 and natural beauty, are often insensil)le to 
 the charms of true virtue, which, if rightly 
 
 * *' Dcfinitio brevis ct vera virtutis, ordo est amorVs." 
 
 ST. AUSTIN. 
 
104 Connection of Virtue [Part i. 
 
 discerned, would, according to a sentiment 
 of Plato, kindle in the soul an incredible 
 delight and admiration. 
 
 Of this little sympathy which subsists be- 
 tween virtue and the fine arts, we have a 
 striking example in the ancient Greeks, 
 who, at the very period when they were 
 most highly distinguished for the latter, are 
 known to have been so entirely lost to a just 
 moral sense, as to expose their children, 
 lend out their wives, and to indulge unna- 
 tural lusts ; and at Corinth, in particular, a 
 temple is said to have been erected to Venus,, 
 with more than a thousand courtezans there 
 devoted to her service*. Which shows 
 that the corruption of their morals kept 
 at least equal pace with their polite accom- 
 plishments ; and that virtue and the fine arts 
 are not so closely allied as some would 
 fondly imagine \. 
 
 * " Dans aucune villc on ne porta si loin les ouvrages 
 de Tart.— Elle erigea un temple a Venus, ou plus de 
 mille courtesanes furent consacrees." 
 
 MoNTESQi Esp. des loix. Liv. xxi. ch. 7. 
 
 t Thus Lord Shaftesbury speaks of the Arts and 
 Virtues as " mutually friendly ;" and of the ** science 
 
Sect, vi.] xvith the Fine Arts, Kc, 105 
 
 It is not however to be denied, that a 
 good may be a great artist, and that his art 
 may contribute to the promotion of virtue. 
 He may teach the canvass or the marble to 
 inspire just and noble sentiments, and by 
 transmitting durable monuments to the ho- 
 nour of such who have deserved well of 
 mankind, may excite posterity to a laud- 
 
 of Virtuosos, and of Virtue itself, as, in a manner, one 
 and the same*." And Dr.Turnbull, in his Christian 
 Philosophy, p. 175, tells us, " It might be shown 
 that the taste of beauty in architecture and the other 
 ingenious arts, is so analogous to, and connected with, 
 a good taste of beauty and harmony in moral conduct, 
 that if one who hath the former is irregular and dis- 
 solute in his morals, he must be so in downright con- 
 tradiction to the sole principle upon which his delight 
 in the ingenious arts and works of taste is founded." To 
 these permit me to add another passage from Lord 
 Kaimes to the same effect : " Thus,'* says he, " taste 
 goes hand in hand with the moral sense in their pro- 
 gress towards maturity, and they ripen equally by the 
 same sort of culture f" Such ideas of moral virtue 
 may probably remind some of my readers of the story 
 of the man who, being born blind, thought a scarlet co- 
 lour was like the sound of a trumpet. 
 
 ♦ See his Advice to an Author. 
 t Sketches on Man; vol. i. p. 197. 
 
iOd Connection of Virtue [Part r, 
 
 able emulation. All this is possible, and 
 perhaps not without example. 
 
 * IL If the fine arts can only flourish in 
 the advanced sta^^es of society, the same 
 must hold equally true of the sciences, which 
 certainly stand no less in need of encourage- 
 ment. We could no more reasonably expect 
 to meet with an able mathematician or astro- 
 nomer among the Hurons or the Iroquois, 
 than with an exquisite painter or statuary. 
 
 And as the sciences are thus related to 
 the fine arts in their origin, so they too 
 much resemble them in their want of moral 
 influence and effect, That they contribute 
 to the wealth and aggrandisement, to ex- 
 tend the commerce, to augment the power, 
 and spread far and wide the renown of a 
 nation, cannot be disputed. But all this is 
 extremely different from contributing to its 
 moral prosperity, or to its virtue and vir- 
 tuous enjoyments. To be convinced how- 
 little these important objects, without some 
 great and previous change in the state of 
 the world, are likely to be promoted by any 
 extraordinary advances in human science 
 
Sect, vi.] zvilh the Fine Arts, ^c. . 107 
 
 and learning, >ve need only cast an eye oix 
 ^hose periods when they most llourished. 
 The Jirst is that of Socrates, already men- 
 tioned, when Greece was at once the di>s- 
 tinguished seat of literature, of arts, and 
 of every species of moral depravity. The! 
 second has been marked by the title of the 
 Augustan age, when, soon after the intro- 
 duction of the Grecian philosophy into 
 Italy, Rome lost her liberties, and every 
 virtue forwhich she had been long renowned. 
 The third is that oi^ Leo the Tenth, a period, 
 though abandoned to superstition and every 
 vicious disorder, in which learning again 
 revived after a slumber of many ages, and 
 probably, in part, paved the way, and fur- 
 thered the progress, of the reformation. I 
 say in part, for there are other and more 
 powerful causes, both political and moral, 
 (not here to be enumerated) to which this 
 great event is chiefly to be ascribed. The 
 last period has been styled the age of Leicis 
 the FourteentJty when, under the patronage of 
 that monarch, and amidst bigotry, persecu- 
 tion, war, lewdness, and court-intrigue, the 
 sciences as well as the fine arts made a rapid 
 
108 Conyieciioyi of Virtue [Part i. 
 
 progress in France ; and at the same time 
 in England, under the reign of Charles the 
 Second, in the midst of profaneness, plots, 
 persecution, and every kind of low de- 
 bauchery. We see, then, that in each of 
 these periods, vice and profligacy flourished 
 together with human learning; and, if we 
 except the era of the reformation, received 
 from it no sensible check or counteraction. 
 And as to what is called modern philosophy, 
 how far it has a tendency to promote the 
 virtue and happiness of mankind, we may 
 with probability judge from those dire effects 
 of its influence which are yet fresh in our 
 memories : — the extinction of religion, both 
 natural and revealed; — the dissolution of 
 every bond of social union ; — the destruc- 
 tion of kings ; — the subversion of nations ; 
 — and the reign of atheism and anarchy. 
 
 Let it not be misunderstood, as if it was 
 here meant to cast an indiscriminate censure 
 on human learning, which would be as un- 
 just in itself^ as it would be alien and re- 
 mote from the writer's intention. Far be 
 it from him to disparage any useful branch 
 of knowledge, or to confound that genuine 
 
Sect. VI.] icith the Fine Arts, 8V. 109 
 
 and experimental pliiloso|jlij^, which serves 
 to unfold the wisdom and goodness of the 
 Creator in the structure and destination of 
 his works, and to supply many solid advan- 
 tages to the world, with a science falsely so 
 called, or with that miserable sophistry, which 
 is the disgrace, and has proved the sorest 
 calamity of the present age. Or, as if it was 
 meant to censure any ingenious art, while 
 it maintains its proper rank, and seeks to 
 improve in adorning human life, by mi- 
 nistring in the cause of virtue and religion. 
 
 It must not however be forgotten, that 
 while the philosopher and the artist are 
 mindful to perform their part, we must take 
 care on ours, if we mean to profit by their 
 labours, to be provided with a mind sound 
 and well-constituted, both morally and in- 
 tellectually : — Then all things will contribute 
 to our improvement; every excellence of 
 art, as well as every discovery of nature, 
 will lead to the great source of truth and 
 perfection ; shadows will teach realities, and 
 creation become a mirror of the Deity. 
 At present our condition, as not unaptly 
 
1 lOi Cojtnedtion of Virtue [Part i. 
 
 conceived by an ancient philosopliier*, re- 
 sembles that of men chained down from 
 their infancy in a cavern, with their backs 
 towards the Hght, and thus left to contem- 
 l^late the figures projected upon the sides of 
 their prison, mistaking them for the real 
 objects. 
 
 Man in this shadowy state is fond of sha- 
 dows, and turns his back upon the world 6f 
 realities. He will dwell with rapture on 
 the power of Raphael's pencil displaying 
 the histories and characters of scripture, 
 without any regard to the real nature of the 
 thing's represented ; and will speculate with 
 wonder on the earth and visible heavens, 
 which shall soon pass away and be dissolved, 
 while he remains insensible to that world 
 which knows neither time nor change, and 
 to which be stands so nearly related. 
 
 The sum is this : That so far as the arts 
 and sciences are of use to set forth the glory 
 of the Creator, «s manifested in his works; 
 or to fecilitate the means of human subsist-- 
 
 •* See Plat, rq). lib. 7; inxtia* 
 
Sect, vi.] with the Fine Arts, 8^c, 11] 
 
 ence ; or even so far as they bestow on lilc 
 an agreeable, yet sparing and chaste orna- 
 ment ; and by affording employment, pre- 
 vent one part of mankind from becoming a 
 burden or a nuisance to the other ; thev are 
 warranted by the severest policy. But, on 
 the other hand, when we oppose to these 
 advantages, their liableness to be abused, 
 and how commonly they a?e abused, to the 
 purposes of vanity and luxurious indulgence, 
 their utility, on the whole, then becomes 
 not a little uncertain and problematical. 
 
( 112 ) [Part^, 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 On the Savage and Civilized State of Man, 
 
 A FEW remarks on the savage and civiliz- 
 ed state of man, compared with each other, 
 will conclude this first part of the present 
 work. ' . 
 
 Some modern writers have exerted all 
 the force of their genius and eloquence, in 
 attempting to elevate the savage above 
 the civilized state of man. Instead of 
 Greeks and Romans, we hear of Caffres 
 and Esquimaux, of Cherokees and Chicke- 
 saws; to these, or to other hordes who 
 are supposed still more entirely under the 
 tuition of uncorrupted nature, we are di- 
 rected for examples of pure virtue and un- 
 mingled felicity. 
 
 Whether the indigence and rudeness of 
 savage life is preferable to a wealthy and 
 luxurious state of society, I am not anxious 
 to determine ; but it may safely be affirmed. 
 
Sect, vii.] Savage and Civilized State, &ic, 1 13 
 
 that there is a middle period which is pre- 
 ferable to either, after a people have emerged 
 from barbarism, and before thev have ar- 
 rived at false refinement. 
 
 It is easv for the fancv to invest with bor- 
 rowed qnalities, persons and things with 
 wdiich we are little acquainted. A voyager 
 who touches upon a strange coast, and there 
 beholds a company of the natives seated at 
 their ease under the foliage of some spread- 
 ing oak or plantain, while others are seen 
 diverting themselves on the lawn with the 
 dance and the song, is ready to imagine 
 himself transported to a paradisiacal region 
 where all is innocence and delight; and 
 should he happen to be received to a hospi- 
 table repast, instead of being devoured him- 
 self, he Avill be disposed to requite them 
 with the praise of every virtue that can 
 adorn humanity. To appearances much 
 less flattering than these, we are probably 
 indebted for some late panegyrics upon 
 savage life and manners. We all know how 
 common it is for men, especially for tra- 
 vellers, out of mere vanity to embellish 
 
 I 
 
114 Savage md Civilized [Parti, j 
 
 r 
 
 their narratives; and we may know too, i 
 that there are not wanting some, who will [ 
 both embellish and invent, from a malignant I 
 design of exalting nature at the expence of j 
 Christianity. 
 
 To counteract the ill effect of such fictions, 
 which are the more dangerous as they are • 
 countenanced and supported by men who . 
 have too long passed under the guise of 
 philosophers ; I would oppose the authority \ 
 of the celebrated and unfortunate navigator ' 
 M. de la Perouse, who was sent out by the I 
 French government on a voyage of disco- j 
 very, and appears to have been eminently , 
 qualified for such an enterprise. " Philoso- 
 phers," says he, " write books in their clo- 
 sets, while T have been engaged in voyages .1 
 during a course of thirty years. I have 
 been a witness to the injustice and deceptions, 
 of these people (savages) w hom they have 1 
 described to us as so good, because they are 
 very near to a state of nature. — It is not:| 
 possible to form society with man in a state 
 of nature, because he is barbarous, deceit- 
 ful, and wicked. In this opinion I Jiave^v 
 
Sect. VII.] State of Man, 115 
 
 been confirmed by my own melanclioly ex- 
 perience*" 
 
 In illustration of this remark, I subjoin 
 his account of an island in the South Sea^ 
 named Maomia, where every appearance 
 of a paradisiacal state of innocence and en- 
 joyment, was completely contradicted by a 
 closer observation. '' This charming coun- 
 try/' says he, " combines the advantages 
 of a soil fruitful without culture, and of a 
 climate which renders clothing unnecessary. 
 The trees that produce the bread-fruit, cocoa- 
 nut, banana, guava, and the orange, sup- 
 ply abundance of wholesome food, while 
 the fowls, hogs, 8cc. which live on the sur- 
 plus of these fruits, afford an agreeable va- 
 riety of viands. They were so rich, and 
 had so few wants, that they disdained our 
 instruments of iron, and our cloth, and 
 asked only for beads. — They had sold at our 
 market more than two hundred wood- 
 pigeons, which would eat out of the hand, 
 and a number of beautiful turtle-doves and 
 
 * Voyage round the World, by de la Pcroicse, vol. ii. 
 p. 132. 
 
 I 2 
 
116 • Savage and Civilized ^Part r. 
 
 paroquets equally tame. What cold ima* 
 gination could separate the idea of happi- 
 ness from so enchanting a place ? These 
 islanders, said we, a hundred times over, 
 are, without doubt, the happiest beings on 
 earth. Surrounded by their wives and chil- 
 dren, they pass their peaceful days in inno- 
 cence and repose ; no care disturbs them 
 but that of bringing up their birds; and, 
 like the first man, of gathering, w^ithout i 
 labour, the fruit that grows over their heads. ; 
 We Avere deceit ed. This delightful coun- ; 
 try was not the abode of innocence. We 
 perceived indeed no arms ; but the bodies ' 
 of the Indians covered over with scars, 
 proved that they were often at war, or else 
 quarrelling among themselves." And, speak-. ^ 
 ing of their ferocious appearance, he ob- 
 serves : *' Nature has no doubt stamped this .. 
 character on their faces, hy way of showing ' 
 that the half savage, living in a state of i 
 anarchy, is a more mischievous being than 
 the most ferocious of the brute' creation*." 
 
 * Voyage round the world, by de la Peronse, vol. ii. .| 
 p. 72-3. 
 
 Crantz, in his History of Greenland, concludes bis j;' 
 
 i>i 
 
8ect. VII.] 67^//^ of Man, 1 17 
 
 We conclude, therefore, notwitlistanding 
 all that has been narrated by travellers, sung 
 by poets, or preached by philosophers, that 
 
 account of the ziioral -cbaracter of the natives in the fol- 
 lowing manner : " Thus I have thought it requisite, to 
 draw the good and bad side of the character of the 
 Greenlanders, (who are perhaps the most simple and 
 least corrupted of all the heathen nations) and to trace 
 as much as possible the ground and motive of their ac- 
 tions ; because the accounts of this nation hitherto pub- 
 lished, as well as the splendid description of almost all 
 heathen nations, in ancient or later ages, might almost 
 induce us to think that there were virtuous heathens, 
 who excelled the christians in many respects, and that 
 they were only seduced to the practice of vice by the 
 bad example and temptations of the christians, and by 
 the new and unknown allurements thev brought them. 
 From these premises they deduce this conclusion, that 
 men may lead a virtuous life, from the mere light of 
 nature and reason, and do not need the light of the 
 gospel in order to he pleasing to God, and valuable to 
 their fellow-creatures. Kvery one knows that this is the 
 corner-stone of deism. We also know that many a 
 teacher delights to alled'^e, without reflecting on the 
 consequences, the examples of the virtuous heathens, 
 as a reproach or excitement to his auditory ; which 
 cither hath no effect at all, or else this bad one, to 
 strengthen that Pehtgianism which every man inherits 
 by birth ;— ^and to make people think that the conver- 
 sion of the heathens is an easy thing, and that the main 
 
1 18 Savage and Civilized [Part i, 
 
 man is radically the same in all situations ; 
 and that the love of pleasure, the love of 
 consequence, and the love of wealth, where 
 wealth is to be obtained, are naturally his 
 ruling principles; only diversified in their 
 operation according to the various physical 
 and moral circumstances in which he is 
 placed. 
 
 For what virtue a savage is distinguished 
 I have yet to learn ; unless we will dignify 
 with the name a sullen kind of fortitude, by 
 which he will brave pain and death, and 
 almost justify the rant of the Stoics, that 
 man by discipline may become proof against 
 all external evils*: though this savage stout- 
 difficulty is, how to instil into them a proper and conr 
 victive conception of the divine truths ; for as to good 
 behaviour, that will be easy enough, because they have 
 been already accustonned to a virtuous walk and de- 
 meanour." — History of Greenland, vol. i. p. 194-6. 
 
 Again : " We cannot perceive either in the Green- 
 landers, or in any other heathen nations we have had a 
 close acquaintance with, that they shua by nature the 
 greatest vices'' — Ibid. Let this testimony pf ai> honest 
 and good man be impartially considered. 
 
 * " Forbear," said an ancient chief of the Iroquois, 
 when his insults had provoked one of his tormentors to 
 
Sect, vii.] State of Mm. 1 19 
 
 ness has indeed been ostentatiously opposed 
 to the sufferings of christian martyrs, by 
 men who will see no difference between a 
 natural hardiness, supported by the obsti- 
 nacy of pride> and the power of divine 
 iaith and resignation. 
 
 Nor am I able to imagine wherein the 
 superior happiness of a savage can consist, 
 unless we choose to place it in his pride 
 of independence. He has no master to 
 serve, or patron to please ; he can lie down 
 and rise up, go out and come in, as a 
 lord of the creation, above ceremony and 
 above control. On the other hand, how- 
 ever, it must be remembered, that if he 
 pajT^s no regard to others, they pay as little 
 to him, and that in all the dignity of his 
 condition, he is in constant danger of being 
 left to starve in his hut, or to perish in the 
 desert. 
 
 The truth is, man must in some degree 
 
 wound him with a knife, " forbear these stabs of your 
 knife, and rather let me die by fire, that those dogs 
 your aUies, from beyond the sea, may learn from ray 
 example to suffer like men." 
 
 Robertson's Hist, of America, vol. ii. p. 157. 
 
120 Savage and Civilized [Part i, 
 
 be humanized before he is capable either of 
 science/ virtue, or happiness ; and he can 
 only be humanized in- society ; from which 
 should he early be separated, and suffered 
 to run wild in the v/oods, he would proba- 
 bly soon lose even the rudiments of speech, 
 his ideas would scarce be extended beyond 
 the objects that surrounded him, his powers 
 of reflection would lie dormant, and the 
 human would almost be levelled with brute 
 natures. And in proportion as a savage 
 approaches to this condition, the greater 
 must be his intellectual and moral inabi- 
 lity*. 
 
 Men who have enjoyed every external 
 advantage are too apt to forget their ob:- 
 
 * There are many American savages who cannot 
 ?-eckon further than three, and have no denomination to 
 distinguish any number above it. Bobertson, ibid. p. 9 1 .— 
 There are others, wlio have no idea even of fire. L'Ori- 
 gine des Loix, &c. par Gogtiet^ torn. i. p. 149-53.- — " Les 
 habitans des iles Mariannes, decouvertes en 1521 — re- 
 garderent Ic feu comme one espece d'animal qui s'at- 
 tachoit au bois dont ii se nourrissoit." Id. ibid, p. 151. 
 And of the ignorance and stupidity of savage nations, 
 in respect to religious and moral subjects, all history 
 l^ears ample and nielancholy testimony. 
 
I 
 
 Sect. VII.'] State of Man, HI 
 
 ligations, and to ascribe to nature, what 
 they owe chiefly to eckication ; to which 
 minds of the greatest powers must be in- 
 debted, in their progress from ignorance to 
 knowledge, and from rudeness to refine- 
 ment. Reason continues long in her in- 
 fancy, durin^Tf which she has need of lead- 
 ing-strings ; and after she has gained vigour 
 to walk alone, must be supplied with prin- 
 ciples on which to proceed, or she will be 
 in constant danger of wandering into error. 
 These principles in natural enquiries she 
 must borrow from the school of experience, 
 and in those which concern religion, from 
 divine revelation. 
 
 It is the want of such principles, together 
 with the sluggishness of his faculties*, that 
 retains a savage in his state of rudeness. 
 He needs not only axioms on which to 
 ground his reasonings, but the influence of 
 other minds to excite his own to a proper 
 
 * An American savage will lie for days together 
 stretched in his cabin or in the sliade, till, roused by- 
 hunger, he again sallies forth into the wilderness in 
 quest of prey ; thus sharing Iiis time between violent 
 piotion and torpid rest. 
 
122 Savage and Civilized [Parti. 
 
 exertion, and this he cannot find out of 
 cultivated society. 
 
 I have sometimes, in crossing an exten- 
 sive down, met with a shepherd tending his 
 flock in some retired valley, far removed 
 from the busy walks of men ; who has ap- 
 peared in his perceptions not much superior 
 to the animals under his care, nor much 
 better able to express them. And among 
 the peasantry in general, if we examine 
 those who have never been taught the com- 
 mon rudiments of learning, what a scan- 
 tiness of ideas they discover, what grossness 
 of apprehension, and, of consequence, what 
 imaptness for moral and religious instruc- 
 tion ! Whereas in towns enlivened bv trade 
 and manufactures, where the inhabitants 
 frequently converse and transact business 
 with one another and with strangers, even 
 the poor and uneducated commonly mani- 
 fest a share of abilitj^ and intelligence, which 
 is rarely to be fovmd in the huts of plough- 
 men and shepherds : while such as are a 
 little raised above a state of penury, and 
 whose understandings have received a de- 
 gree of culture, may, perhaps, of all the 
 
Sect, vii.] State of Man. 123 
 
 various classes of mankind, justly be con- 
 sidered as the most prepared auditors of 
 true wisdom. 
 
 When a man's exterior condition falls be- 
 Jow a humble mediocrity, when his mind 
 is depressed with poverty and toil, or sus- 
 pended with anxiety on account of a pre- 
 carious subsistence, the counsels of reason 
 and religion will commonly be delivered to 
 him in vain. When Moses spake to his 
 brethren in Egypt, they hearkened not to 
 him, for ang^ulsh of spirit, and for aiiel bon- 
 dage^. Nor is a full estate more propitious 
 to wisdom. In one of the prophets, God 
 is thus introduced as reproaching his people 
 Israel : 1 spake unto thee in thy prosperity^ 
 but thou saidst, I will not hear-^. These, 
 with innumerable instances that come under 
 daily observatiou, show the propriety of 
 Agur's prayer. Give vie neither poverty nor 
 riches. 
 
 The extremes of learned refinement and 
 unenlightened barbarism are no less un- 
 favourable to the acquisition of true wis- 
 dom. The polite scholar, and the philo- 
 sophic sage, are often found as unqualified 
 
 * Exod vi. 9. t Jer. xxii. 21. 
 
124 Savage and CivUized State, S(c. [Part i. 
 
 subjects of religious teaching as the untutored 
 savage; arising indeed not from hterature 
 or philosophy, in themselves, but from that 
 presumption with which they are so apt to 
 swell the mind, and indispose it to that 
 doctrine whose first and last instruction is 
 humility. 
 
 Thus every just view of man, whether 
 he is considered in his individual or social 
 capacity, leads us to the famous apothegm 
 of the Grecian sage Cleobulus, and which 
 the wise and moderate of every succeeding 
 generation have chosen for their motto — 
 Me]^ov a^iglov, a inediiiin is best. For though 
 mediocrity is not the standard of true vir- 
 tue, as Aristotle supposed, it is best, how- 
 ever, in respect to those circumstances which 
 relate merely to our present state. Hence 
 the care of govermnent should be to place 
 and secure a people in that situation, in 
 which the fewest individuals possible are 
 in extreme wealth or indigence; and in 
 which the arts and sciences are no further 
 encouraged, than as they are calculated 
 to increase or preserve useful knowledge, to 
 furnish employment, and minister to the 
 real wants or innocent satisfactions of life. 
 
CHRISTIAN POLITICS. 
 
 PART 11. 
 
 ox THE IMPORTANCE OP JIELIGIOX, BOTH 
 , TO SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL; 
 WITH REELECTIONS ON RELIGIOUS ES- 
 TABLISHMENTS AND TOLERATION. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 On the Importance of Religion, both to 
 Society mid the Individual, 
 
 SOME late pretended philosophers, in 
 order to set aside the importance of 
 religion, have endeavoured to estahlish an 
 opinion, that a wise legislation is all that is 
 necessary to make the world virtuous and 
 happy ; and, consequently, that all the evils 
 which mankind have hitherto laboured un- 
 der, are to be ascribed to the lault or imper- 
 
J 26 Importance of Retigion [ P a rt i r ^ 
 
 fection of their political institutions. Now, 
 allowing that whatever evils have arisen 
 from bad government are capable of cor- 
 rection by the contrary, still it may be true, 
 that such as made their way into the world, 
 previous to all civil government whatsoever, 
 may require remedies which no human 
 means can provide or apply. 
 
 Let us, however, for a moment, listen 
 to these political sages. Virtue, according 
 to their great doctor Helvetius, consists in 
 the knowledge (why not the practice ?) of 
 those duties we owe one to another, and 
 therefore supposes the formation of societies, 
 *' A man/' says he, ** born in a desert isle, 
 and abandoned to himself, would remain 
 without vice and without virtue." " What 
 then,** he proceeds, " must we understand 
 by the words virtuous and vicious, but ac- 
 tions either useful or injurious to the pub- 
 lic*?** The same is held by others of 
 
 * " Vertu — consiste dans la connoissance de ce que les 
 hommes se doivent les uns aux autres-x-eile suppose par 
 consequent la formation des societes. Ne dans une isle 
 deserte, abandonne a moi-meme, J'y vis sans vice et 
 sans vertu — Que faut il done entendre par ces mots ver^ 
 
• 
 
 Sect. i. j to Society and the Individual, 127 
 
 this philosophic school : I shall oiilj^ subjoin 
 a passage from Raynall : " Since society/* 
 he observes, " should be useful to all its 
 members, they ought every one in return 
 to be useful to society : so, to be virtuous is 
 to be useful, and to be vicious is to be use- 
 less or hurtful : behold, the sum of moral- 
 ity*/* Hence it is but supposing that 
 virtue and vice relate only to society, and 
 that the state of society depends only upon 
 the laws, and the conclusion follows, That 
 ?wthi?ig is xvanting to refonn the world hnt a 
 ivise legislation. 
 
 What such writers mean by being useful 
 to society, we may collect from their ideas 
 of human happiness. ** I maintain,*' says 
 Helvetius, ** that man, from his very frame 
 
 tueiises et •vicieuses ? Les actions utiles ou nulsible a la 
 socicte." 
 
 Helv. de rhomme, sect. ii. ch. xvi. (note 9.) 
 
 * *' Puisque la societe doit etre utile a chacun de ses 
 membres, il est de la justice que chacun de ses membres 
 soit utile a la societe. Ainsi etre vertueux, c'est etre 
 utile; fitre vicicux, c'est etre inutile ou nulsible. Voila 
 la morale." 
 
 Rayn. Hist. Phil, liv, xix. p. 298. 
 
128 Importance of Religion [ Pa rt i is 
 
 and constitution, is only capable of the 
 pleasures of sense*." Again, " Physical 
 sensibility constitutes man himself and is^ 
 the foundation of all that pertains to his- 
 being f." Hence he infers, that neither 
 our desires or knowledoe can extend beyond 
 the senses. Accordingly, he considers those 
 as the only saints who add to the public 
 stock of sensitive enjoyments by inventing 
 some new pleasure \. 
 
 * " Te dis que rhommc, n'etant, par sa nature, seiv 
 sible qu'aux plaisirs des sens, ces plaisirs, par consequent, 
 Sont Tunique objet dc ses desiis.'* 
 
 Helv. de Tesprit. disc. iii. ch. x. 
 
 t *' La sensibility physique est Thomme lui-meme et 
 le priacipe dc tout ce qu'il est. Aussi scs connoissances 
 n'atteignent elles jamais au de-la de ses sens." Id. dc 
 Vllommc^ Recap, ch. ii. - ' 
 
 t See de V Homme ^ sect, i, ch xiii. — What a pity that 
 this sublime philosopher had not the good fortune to 
 have lived under the reign of the Roman emperor Tiht- 
 riusy who might have preferred him to the head of his 
 office, a voluptatibiLs *, in which capacity, by exerting 
 his great genius, he might have added some new plea- 
 sure to the imperial stock. 
 
 * Novum officium instituit a voluptatibus, proeposito equite Romano 
 T. CiESonio Prisco. Suetonius in vita. Tib. c. 4S. 
 
 ^-V,, '■■• - '>-, ^-. / • 
 
 1. ■ s 
 
Sect. i. J to Society and the Ina 
 
 These are notions at wh 
 might have blushed, who, by 
 supreme good of man in indolence ot* body 
 and tranquillity of mind, affected at least a 
 
 I kind of philosophic superiority to mere ani- 
 mal gratifications. 
 [ Again : The doctrine of this school, that 
 truth alone is sufficient for regenerating 
 mankind, is certainly new, and worthy of 
 its authors. Philosophers have formerly 
 been used to lament the feebleness of rea^ 
 son, which, when single and unsupported, 
 they found was commonly overborne and 
 trampled under foot amidst the scuffle and 
 tumult of the world. Thev have lamented 
 that the judgments of men were so much 
 governed by their passions, especially by 
 their interest; of which a w^itty poet, who 
 wanted the illumination of modern philo- 
 sophy, thus describes the wonderful power: 
 
 " What makes all doctrines plain and dear ? — 
 About two hundred pounds a year. 
 And that which was prov'd true before, 
 Prove false again ? — ^Two hundred more." 
 
 Nor have they less lamented the inefficacy 
 of truth, after full conviction, to produce 
 
 K 
 
130 Importance of Religion [Part ir. 
 
 correspondent practice. Shakspeare, who 
 is supposed to have been tolerably skilled in 
 human nature, and may fairly be reckoned 
 as good a philosopher as many who assume 
 that title, remarks, that '* If to do were as 
 easy as to tell what is fit to be done, chapeb 
 had been churches, and poor mens' cottages, 
 princes' palaces." '* I could sooner," says 
 he, " tell twenty what is fit to be done, 
 than be one of the twenty to follow my 
 own instructions." Poor Shakspeare ! he 
 too, it seems, was ignorant of the irresistible 
 efficacy, or, as some choose to speak, the 
 omnipotency of truth. 
 
 Should we ask these political prophets, 
 w^hat wonder-working truths they have in 
 commission to reveal ? they will tell us,. 
 That all men are equal in respect of their 
 rights : that the objects of these rights are 
 liberty, property, security, and resistance 
 of oppression : finally, that the people are 
 the only just source of civil authority. And 
 are these truths, admitting them to be such, 
 of sufficient potency to regenerate man,, 
 and restore him to the true dignity of his 
 nature; which neither instruct him in his 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
Sect. i. ] to Society and the IndividuaL 131 
 
 origin or end, nor in his situation under 
 the moral goveriniient of God, tliat *' most 
 Ancient city and polity," as the philosophic 
 emperor speaks*, to whose laws all rational 
 creatures are subject ? Our sage legislators 
 should consider this, before they presume; 
 to substitute, in the place of religion, their 
 dubious and slippery politics. • Before they 
 take upon them to legislate for immortal 
 man, they should learn to extend their views 
 beyond the present stage of existence, and 
 the tragi-comedies that are acting upon it, 
 to a life to come, and the great system of 
 the universe. " The finest gentleman/' 
 says a noble author, (and we may affirm 
 the same of the profoundest politician) 
 '' must, after all, be considered but as an 
 ideot, who, talking much of the knowledge 
 of the Avorld and mankind, has never so 
 much as thought of the study or knowledge 
 of himself) or of the rmture and govern- 
 ment of that great public and world whence 
 he holds his being : 
 
 Quid sumus, et quidnam victuri gignimurf." 
 
 * Marc. Antonin. lib. ii. sect. 16. 
 
 t Shaft, Characteristics, vol. iii. p. 109. 
 
 K 2 
 
132 Lnportajice of Religion [Part n. 
 
 If man besides a present has a future in- 
 terest, which is infinitely more important; 
 and if rehgion points out the only way of 
 securing this interest ; then that policy which 
 supplants religion, cuts off the best hopes 
 of our nature. But the policy Avhich tells 
 us that to be good citizens is the sum of ali 
 our duty to God and man, evidently sets 
 aside the first and great law of religion, 
 which enjoins a supreme regard to the Au- 
 thor of our existence ; without which, it 
 teaches us, that whatever be our character 
 in society, we can never be admitted to a 
 participation of the divine favour in a happy 
 immortality. Should, therefore, any govern- 
 ment inspire a contempt or neglect of piety, 
 it might justly be considered as an enemy 
 to the true interest of man, though it should 
 elevate a people to the highest pitch of great- 
 ness, or place them in ^ny other situation 
 which might better conduce to their tem- 
 poral enjoyment. All this would prove but a 
 miserable compensation for the danger aris- 
 ing from the example of those above them, 
 which must operate almost irresistibly to 
 the increase of tliat awful disregard which 
 
I 
 
 Sect, i.] to Society and the Individual, 133 
 
 is natural to us, of a state and interest which 
 will commence beyond the grave, and ex- 
 tend to eternity. 
 
 Nor can the Ibrce of this consideration 
 be invalidated, but by the most infallible 
 proof that such a state and interest are 
 groundless fictions; since the bare possibi- 
 lity of their reality, must infinitely out- 
 weigh all the good and evil that terminates 
 with this life. 
 
 If such then be the malignant aspect of 
 an impious policy upon the spiritual, we 
 cannot reasonably expect it to be very fa- 
 vourable to the temporal welfare of a people, 
 as we have here supposed; but have rather 
 cause to apprehend, that while it endeavours 
 to intercept the view of another world, its 
 counsels in this w ill be smitten with infatua- 
 tion ; and that the people who are deluded 
 by it, will find themselves deprived at once 
 of the blessings of the present, and the 
 hopes of a better life. 
 
 It seems to have been reserved for these 
 unhappy times, whatever may have been 
 conceived before, to have brought forth a 
 scheme so dire and portentous. The late 
 
134 Importance of Religion [Part ii. 
 
 attempt, in a neighbouring country, to found 
 a government upon atheism, is, I beheve, 
 a single instance in the history of mankind. 
 The greatest legislators, in all former ages, 
 have acknowledged the necessity of religion 
 both for the estabhshment and well-being 
 of civil society * ; nay rnore, have actually 
 
 * Zaleucus thus prefaces his laws to the Locrians : 
 " Every inhabitant, whether of town or country, should 
 first of all be firmly persuaded of the existence of the gods. 
 — Every one ought to labour all he can to become good, 
 both in practice and principle, whereby he will render 
 himself dear and acceptable to God ; ought to fear 
 more what leads to ignominy and dishonour, than to^ 
 loss of wealth and fortune ; and to esteem him the hap- 
 piest citizen who gives up his worldly goods, rather than 
 renounce his honesty and love of justice. But those 
 whose appetites are so headstrong as not to suffer them 
 to be persuaded to these things, and whose minds are 
 turned with a natural bias towards evil, should remem- 
 ber the gods, think upon their nature, and of the judg- 
 ments they always have in store to inflict upon wicked 
 men." Charondas, who flourished about the same 
 time, begins his laws in a similar manner. And among 
 the Romans, Cicero, who in this, as in many other 
 things, copied Plato, introduces his plan of a wise legis- 
 lation, as follows : " Let every citizen be first of all 
 firmly persuaded of the government and dominion of the 
 gods ; that they are the lords and pasters of the uni- 
 
Sect. I.] to Socictij and the IndividuaL 135 
 
 ascribed their several institutions to the in- 
 spiration of some divinity. Thus Amasis 
 and Mnevis among the Egyptians ; %oroaster 
 among the Bactrians; %amolvls among the 
 C^tcs ; Rhadamanthus and Minos in Crete; 
 Romulus and Numa among the Romans : 
 
 verse ; that all things are directed by their power, dis- 
 posal, and providence ; and that the whole race of man- 
 kind is in the highest manner indebted to them ; that 
 they are intimately acquainted with every one's state 
 and condition ; that they know what he does, what he 
 thinks ; w^ith what disposition of mind, with what de- 
 gree of piety, he performs the acts and offices of reli- 
 gion ; and that, accordingly, they make a distinction 
 between good and evil men. The mind being embued 
 with these opinions, will never deviate in its determina- 
 tions from truth and utility." — " That these opinions 
 are useful must be evident to every one who considers 
 what stability is derived to the public from within, by 
 the religion of an oath ; and what security it enjoys 
 from without, by the holy rites which accompany na- 
 tional leagues and treaties ; how efficacious the fear of 
 divine punishment is to deter men from wickedness ; 
 and how venerable and august that society must esteem 
 itself, where the immortal gods themselves are believed 
 to interpose both as judges and witnesses.'* See Div, 
 Leg. vol. i. p. 126-8, and 131-2, where the original 
 passages arc added. 
 
136 Importance of Religion [Part ir„ 
 
 •' In a word," says Warburtoii, " there is 
 scarce a legislator recorded in ancient his- 
 tory, but what pretended to revelation an4 
 divine assistance*. 
 
 Hence then may appear the general con- 
 viction of legislative antiquitj^, concerning 
 the close connection that subsists between 
 religion and government. To which may 
 be added the opinion of a famous modern 
 politician, whose authority in this case may, 
 by some, be thought yet n^ore weighty and 
 
 * Div. Leg. vol. I. p. 103. — The saiije method was 
 practised by the founders of the great outlying empires, 
 as Sir William Temple calls them. Thus the founder 
 of the Chinese monarchy was called Fag/our or Fa?i' 
 four J the son of heaven^ (as we are told by the Jesuits) 
 from his pretensions to that relation. The royal com- 
 mentaries of Peru inform us, that the founders of that 
 empire were Mango Copac and his wife and sister Coya 
 Mama., who proclaimed themselves the son and daugh^ 
 ter of the Sun, sent from tlieir father to ^ecluce man- 
 kind from their savage bestial life to one of order and 
 society, Thor and Odin, the lawgivers of the westerly 
 Goths, pretended Hkevvise to inspiration, and even to 
 divinity. The revelations of Mahomet are too well 
 known to be insisted on. The race of these inspired 
 lawgivers seems to have ended in Genghiz-ca^ty founde^^ 
 of the empire of the Moguls. Ibid. p. 103-4. 
 
Sect. I.] to Society and the Individual. 137 
 
 decisive. " The rulers of all slates," s^ys 
 Machiavel, " whether kingdoms or com- 
 monwealths, who would preserve their go- 
 vernments firm and entire, ought above all 
 things to take care, that religion is held in 
 the highest vieneration, and that its cere- 
 monies at all times are preserved uncor- 
 rupted and inviolate : For there is ?io surer 
 prognostic of impending ruin in any state, than 
 for divine zc or ship to be neglected and despised*,'- 
 On the whole then, we may conclude with 
 ia very eminent heathen statesman and phi- 
 losopher, when, speaking of those who 
 maintained that the gods take no care at 
 all of mankind or their concerns, he ob- 
 serves, that ** If their opinion were true, 
 there would be no piety, no sanctity, no 
 religion — that if the gods have no regard 
 to what men do, or what events befal them, 
 there is no reason to pray to them, or wor- 
 
 *. Political Discourses on Livy, book i. chap. 1 2. — r 
 Again, in the same chapter : " As all things go well 
 where religion is duly supported, so where that is neg- 
 lected and trampled upon, every thing runs into con- 
 fusion and disorder.'^ And he elsewhere repeats the 
 game remark. 
 
138 Importance of Religion [Part ii. 
 
 ship them : and that, if rehgion and piety- 
 be taken away from ^ amongst men, the 
 greatest confusion and disorder would ensue 
 in human hfe : and, together with piety, 
 mutual fidelity, and the social ties, which 
 bind mankind one to another, and that most 
 excellent virtue, justice, would be banished 
 out of the world */* 
 
 But, notwithstanding all that is now ad- 
 vanced respecting the importance of reli- 
 gion to the public welfare, it is still urged 
 by a famous writer, famous for his reading 
 and subtilty \, that even a nation of atheists 
 may live well together in a state of civil 
 society. Now% supposing this to be ti'ue, let 
 us again reflect,, how hideous would be the 
 spectacle, for a number of immortal beings, 
 immortal in spite of all their sottishness or 
 
 * " Sunt enim philosophi et fuerunt, qui omnino nul- 
 lum habere censerent rerum humanarum procurationem 
 decs. Quorum si vera sentcntia est, qu^e potest esse 
 pietas ? Qua? sanctitas ? Quae religio ? — Quibus sub- 
 latis, perturbatio vitas sequitur, et magna confusio. 
 Atque haud scio, an pietate adversus Deos sublatd, fides 
 i'tiam et societas generis hmnanif et una excellent issima 
 justitia tollatur.''^ Cic. de Nat. Deer. lib. i. cap. 2. 
 
 t Mr. Bayle. 
 
^EGT. I . ] to Society and the Individual, 1 39 
 
 their sophistry, to occupy or amuse them- 
 selves during the short course of this hfe, 
 without any concern for what may take 
 place beyond it. The more such a society 
 should be found at its ease, the more deeply 
 it was intrenched in political security, and 
 abounding in present gratifications, the more 
 awful would be its situation ; war, pestilence, 
 and famine, or, if there be any still sorer cala- 
 mities that might serve to rouse it to a sense 
 of futurity, would, in the eye of reason, be 
 far less dreadful than to be left to enjoy the 
 present world without fear or disturbance, 
 chanting the Syren song, Let us eat and 
 drink, for to-morrow we die I 
 
 The reasoning of the above author, to 
 lessen the connection between religion and 
 the public good, appears to be this: That 
 the fortunes of men depend upon their 
 conduct, and their conduct upon their habits, 
 their passions, and their temperament. But 
 ought he not to have better considered, that 
 religious opinion frequently operates to the 
 formation of the most powerful habits, as 
 well as to weaken and dissolve them ; that 
 the passions are influenced by apprehensions 
 
140 Importance of Religion [Part ii. 
 
 of future, as well as of present, good and 
 evil ; and that even the temperament is in 
 some degree subject to the power of reli- 
 gion ? Though articles of faith produce not 
 always their full effect, they always produce 
 some effect, they give some impulse to the 
 mind; and, when rightly formed and se- 
 conded by action, always generate right 
 affections and habits, and tend to produce 
 a happy temperament of the whole man ; 
 consequently must contribute both to in- 
 dividual and general happiness, 
 
 But notwithstanding that the sophistry of 
 Bayle is thus easily repelled, the infidel 
 will still return to the charge, and endea^ 
 vour to set aside the consequence here 
 drawn, by confounding religion with some 
 abject superstition, which degrades the un- 
 derstanding, sinks the courage, and begets 
 a mean and pusillanimous character. And 
 this confusion is the more easy, as religion 
 instructs her disciples to regard with com- 
 parative indifference those things which are 
 the great objects of pursuit to others; though, 
 when the cause of truth and the real in- 
 terests of humaniiy are in question, so far 
 
Sect, i.] to Socltti/ and (he IndividuaL 141 
 
 from standing aloof as indiflereut spectators, 
 they will be disposed to step forward with 
 alacritv^ in their just defence; and in sup- 
 port of every measure that nray further 
 promote them. Thus (to omit other in- 
 stances) the heroic piety of the Maccahee^j 
 rescued the Jewish nation from the Syrian 
 yoke ; and, in the opinion of Hume, it is to 
 a set oi fanatics (an appellation w^hich, in 
 his dialect, means nearly the same as good 
 christians) that our own country is indebted 
 for tlie ivholc freedom of its constitution^, 
 
 * Hume's Hist, of England, vol. v. p. 193. — ^The 
 same author, speaking of our national character under 
 Charles the First, observes, " Never was there a people 
 less corrupted by vice, and more actuated by principle, 
 than the English during that period : never were there 
 individuals who possessed more capacity, more courage, 
 more public spirit, more disinterested zeal. The in^ 
 fusion of one ingredient, in too large a proportion, had 
 corrupted all these noble principles, and converted them 
 into the most virulent poison." Vol. vi. p. 536. — And 
 again, he thus represents a particular party in those 
 times : " Of all christian sects, this [viz. the inde- 
 pendent] was the first, which, during its prosperity, as well 
 as its adversity, always adopted the principle of toleration ; 
 and it is remarkable, that so reasonable a doctrine owed 
 its origin, not to reasoning, but to the height of extra- 
 
l42 importance of Religion [Part ir'o 
 
 However, though it is highly injurious to^ 
 represent rehgion as unfriendly to the real 
 welfare of society^ by c'onverting its mem- 
 bers into superstitious monks Or idle vision- 
 aries, I will not assert, with a verv eminent 
 writer *, that it naturally tends to political 
 aggrandisement. He thinks that a perfectly 
 virtuous nation (which can only be formed 
 upon the principles of piety) would in a 
 course of ages, according to the ordinary 
 progress of things, obtain the empire of the 
 world. This perhaps may be as great an 
 excess on one hand, as it is on the other to 
 affirm, that such a nation would infallibly 
 fall a prey to external violence or intrigue. 
 As I see nothing in the principles of reli- 
 gion, rightly understood, which forbid a 
 prudent provision for the purpose of just 
 defence, so I can discern nothing in those 
 
 tagance and fanatldsm:" Vol. vii. p. 21. Such malig- 
 nant reflections are very similar to that which was cast 
 by the pagans on the primitive christians, and deserves 
 a like censure.-r— " Bonus vir Caius Sejus, tantum quod 
 christianus-^laudant quae sciunt ; vituperant quas igno- 
 rant." Tert. Ap. cap. iii. 
 
 * Bishop Butler. See his Analogy, part i. ch, 3.. 
 
Sect, i.] to Socle fi/ and the Individual . 143 
 
 principles tending to an augmentation of* 
 power beyond what such defence may re- 
 quire. A nation such as here supposed, 
 being neither actuated by avarice nor am- 
 bition, would naturally be satisfied with a 
 modest supply of its wants, and a reason- 
 able prospect of safety, without seeking to 
 drain the wealth, or acquire the dominion 
 of anv other. What would be the effect 
 of its instruction and example, or what par- 
 ticular designs of providence it might ac- 
 complish in a course of ages upon the world 
 in general, it is beyond our reach to de- 
 termine. 
 
 This is certain, that the effect of Chris- 
 tianity upon every individual who humbly 
 submits to its discipline, is the improvement 
 of his own character in every respect. It 
 teaches him to live soberly, righteously, and 
 godly in this present world ; to love good mei> 
 of every name, and to pity the bad; to fear 
 God, and honour the king : it teaches him 
 in whatever state he is, therewith to be 
 content ; and so far from training him up 
 to an indolent and visionary life, it instructs 
 
1 44 Importance of Religion [Pa kt n\ 
 
 him to be diligent in business, fervent in 
 spirit, serving the Lord ; to labour with his 
 hands the thing which is good, that he may 
 have to give to him who needeth ; laying 
 it down as a fundamental principle of equity^ 
 that if any man will not work, Jieither should 
 he eat. In fine, whatsoever things are true, 
 whatsoever things are honesty whatsoever things 
 are just, if there be any virtue, and if there be 
 any praise : these things it urges upon his 
 attention^ and enables him to carry into 
 practice. 
 
 That such a religion is unfavourable to 
 the real happiness of society; that honesty 
 and industry, virtue and honour, tend to 
 poverty and pusillanimity ; is a discovery 
 that was reserved for the presetit enlighten- 
 ed period. Such a rehgion, indeed, inspires 
 not a nation w ith the ambition of conquest ; 
 nor, by an undue extension of its commerce, 
 lets in upon it a deluge of wealth and 
 luxury. Forgive it this wrong — and pro^ 
 vided it secures every substantial political 
 advantage, and opens to the individual the 
 prospect of a more exalted society hereafter. 
 
i 
 
 Sect, i.] to Society and the Individual, 145 
 
 let it not be censured, because it gives no 
 encouragement to domineering pride, vain 
 splendor, or luxurious indulgence. 
 
 If to this statement of the public influence 
 of religion, any one should object tlie wars 
 and commotions to which it appears to have 
 given occasion, it may be answered, that 
 this is often little more than appearance; 
 and that the chief cause of these disturb- 
 ances, as of most others, is worldly ambi- 
 ion and interest ; or such a prompt dispo- 
 sition to quarrel, that, were religion en- 
 tirely out of question, would not fail to find 
 out some other ground or pretext. It may 
 further be replied, that w^hen religion is 
 more immediately the principle of conten- 
 tion, as may sometimes unhappily be the 
 case, it is not religion in its purity, such as 
 it was published by Christ and his apostles, 
 but either some corruption that has mingled 
 with it, or some virulent superstition that 
 can only be ranked under the title of reli- 
 gion, when understood in a very general 
 sense. The natural tendency of uncor- 
 rupted Christianity is to prevent war, to mi- 
 
1 46 Importance of Religion [Part ii. 
 
 tigate its ferocity, and to hasten its termina- 
 tion, by inspiring the benevolent, and con- 
 trolhng the mahgnant passions ; and thus to 
 unite men in the bonds of mutual amity. 
 
 It must not, however, be dissembled, 
 that Christianity, from the very purity and 
 excellence of its nature, though it can never 
 be the principle, is frequently the occasion 
 of animosity and discord. Christ says, that 
 he came 7iot to send peace, hut a sword ; that^j^^ i 
 should be in one house divided, three against two^ \ 
 and two against three. For though angels at I 
 his nativity proclaimed peace on earth, and I 
 good will to men ; though the gospel, which ^ 
 is termed the gospel of' peace, is a scheme ) 
 formed by infinite wisdom to bring about;' 
 an universal pacification; peace with God, . 
 peace of conscience, peace in every social !» 
 and civil relation; and though it infallibly 
 produces these effects in all by w4iom it is 
 duly received ; yet among those who unhap- 
 pily reject its overtures, whose pride is of-* 
 fended by the humiliating terms it proposes,, 
 and their sensual passions by the purity oft 
 its precepts, it often occasions keen resent-| 
 
 , I 
 
Sect, i.] to Society and the Indimdiial, 1 47 
 
 meiit towards such as, by complying with 
 its requisitions, reflect the guilt and danger 
 of its enemies. 
 
 In this war, arising from the opposition 
 of darkness to light, and of vice to virtue, 
 it is the glory of Christianity that it admits 
 of no compromise; though it can pity him 
 who wanders from truth, it affords no coun- 
 tenance to his errors ; though it can pardon 
 the criminal, it gives no allowance to his 
 vices or his crimes. And what harm can 
 be derived to society from a system, cal- 
 culated to deliver it from its depravities, 
 both in principle and practice, by holding 
 out the light of truth, and supplying those 
 motives and assistances, without which, for 
 want of pei^onal virtue, no society can be 
 formed either truly great, or of long dura- 
 tion ? Righteousness, says a wise prince, exalt- 
 etJi a nation, but sin is the reproach, and in 
 the end will prove the ruin, of any people. 
 And this is true, according to the natural 
 course of things, under the stated govern- 
 ment of God, without taking into considera- 
 tion the extraordinary dispensations of his 
 providence. 
 
 T ^ 
 
148 Importance of Religion [Part ii. 
 
 If such, then, be the importance of reh- 
 gion, it should certainly be a chief concern 
 of government to do nothing to its prejudice; 
 for as the real good of man is the end of 
 every rational institution, it would be pre- 
 posterous to consult his temporal at the ex- i 
 pence of his future interest. Nor is this j 
 negative precaution all that is necessary; ' 
 as every man is under obligation, by just 
 and lawful means, to do all the good he j 
 can; it must be binding upon rulers to pro- j 
 mote the cause of true religion in the world, 
 in every practicable way that is allowable! 
 in itself, and consistent with the duties of' 
 their proper station. 
 
 Indeed, to determine what those ways^ 
 are, and how far they are consistent with) 
 the public character of the magistrate, may^ 
 be often a matter of much difficulty. Many/i 
 have been, and many now are of opinion,,' 
 that civil government has nothing to do withi 
 religion ; that the end of its institution is' 
 for temporal purposes only ; and that every,( 
 man, without the least political compulsion] 
 or influence, should be left to pursue hisj 
 spiritual edification, either by his ownsepa- 
 
Sect, i.] to Societi/ and the IndividuaL 149 
 
 rate endeavours, or by voluntarily associat- 
 ing with others in any way that shall not 
 violate the order and peace of society. 
 But waving, at present, any abstract inquiry, 
 either into the rights of the magistrate, or 
 the rights of conscience, in the concerns of 
 religion, we shall confine our attention to 
 a practical view of the subject; and pro- 
 ceed to a consideration of the consequences 
 and effects ; first, Of a toleration without 
 an establishment; secondly. Of an establish- 
 ment without a toleration ; and, lastly. Of 
 an establishment together with a toleration. 
 When this is done, we may be better able 
 to determine, whether in any, or in what 
 degree, religion falls within the jurisdiction 
 of the civil magistrate. 
 
( 150 ) [Part 11, 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Of Toleration without an Establishynent. 
 
 We shall Jirst state what is here meant 
 by toleration, and who are the persons un- 
 derstood to be the proper subjects of it ; 
 and, secondly, we shall consider it in the 
 relation it bears to the progress, together 
 with the political effect of Christianity in a 
 country, where there is no ecclesiastical es- 
 tabhshment. 
 * 
 
 I. Toleration has been distinguished by 
 some into complete and partial. They con- 
 sider it as complete, when a subject, beside 
 the undisturbed profession and exercise of 
 his religion, is admissible to every privilege 
 and office belonging to the civil govern- 
 ment ; and as partial, when he is left under 
 any political incapacity, though he may be 
 pennittedto enjoy his religious liberty in the j 
 fullest extent. This distinction and expla- 
 
 c" 
 
I 
 
 Sect. II.] Toleration, ^c, 151 
 
 nation, for the sake of perspicuity, we shall 
 here adopt. 
 
 The proper subjects of a complete tolera- 
 tion, we understand to be those who can 
 give a reasonable security to the state for 
 their behaviour as good citizens ; those who 
 can only give a dubious security, we con- 
 sider as subjects of a partial toleration ; and 
 those Avho can give none, we absolutely ex- 
 clude from the rank of citizens. 
 
 Accordingly, we allow no place in the 
 scale of toleration, either to men who deny 
 those fundamental principles of morality v 
 which are necessary to the very existence 
 of society ; such, for instance, as bind us 
 to the performance of our engagements, or « 
 
 prohibit any external injury, to others: or 
 to professed atheists : or to those who hold i 
 the doctrine of intolerance. Not to the first, 
 since it is evident they can give no valid 
 security to the state for their good behaviour, 
 who deny that any such can be given ; not 
 to the second, because (as Locke observes) 
 promises, covenants, and oaths, which are 
 the bonds of human society, can have no 
 hold upon an atheist; neither to the last. 
 
152 Toleration without [Part ii. 
 
 since it can never be consistent with the 
 } pubhc safety to tolerate those who only 
 wait for power and opportunity to tyran- 
 ; nize over others, and deprive them of their 
 / most sacred liberties. These are exclusions 
 whose necessity and justice is so apparent, 
 that they are strenuously defended by many 
 of the most zealous champions of freedom ; 
 among w^hom the name of Locke stands 
 highly distinguished. 
 V The question, as it respects the tolera- 
 tion of papists, is not so easily settled. 
 Whether the members of a church wdiich, 
 for nearly a thousand years, has arrosfated 
 to itself, besides other dangerous claims, a 
 right of deposing heretical princes, and of 
 releasing their subjects from every bond of 
 allegiance, may be safely admitted, in a pro- 
 testant state, to a civil equality wdth the rest 
 of its members, or even to an open profes- 
 sion of their religion, is, at the present pe- 
 riod, a point of particular importance, of 
 very difficult con.aideration, and of hazard- 
 ous decision. Locke, in his time, thought 
 that popery was no fit subject of toleration; 
 whether it is fitter now, w ill doubtless be 
 
Sect, ii.] an Establishment. 16:3 
 
 well weighed by our political rulers, before 
 they take any further steps in its favour. 
 For, notwithstanding that it is regarded by 
 some as an interest ready to die away of 
 itself, it would seem not a little improbable, 
 that an interest which has lived so long, and 
 prevailed so much in the world, should 
 finally expire without some convulsive, or, 
 perhaps, some dreadful struggle. And I 
 cannot forbear, on this occasion, to cite a 
 passage from a French writer, who, though 
 in religion a lying oracle^ was certainly not 
 wanting in political sagacity : '* There is 
 only one case," says he, *' in which tolera- 
 tion may become fatal to a country ; it i;^ \ 
 when it tolerates an intolerant religion; 
 and such is the Roman catholic. This reli- 
 gion no sooner obtains the ascendant in a 
 state, than it is sure to shed the blood of its / 
 stupid protectors ; it is a serpent which stings j 
 the bosom which cherishes it. Let Ger- \ 
 many be aware of this, as its princes have 
 a particular interest to enter into a commu- 
 nion which offers them large estabhshments ; 
 and when they are become catholic, they 
 will not fail to compel the faith of their 
 
154 . Toleration mthoiit [Partii. 
 
 sitbjects, even by the most violent methods, 
 should gentler ones prove ineffectual. The 
 fires of superstition and intolerance are not 
 yet thoroughly extinguished ; a light breath 
 would kindle them afresh, and set Europe 
 in a blaze. Where the conflagration would 
 stop, it is impossible to foretel. Would 
 Holland be sure to escape ? Would Great 
 Britain be able from the height of her chffs 
 to brave the catholic fury ? The ocean is 
 but an impotent barrier against fanaticism. 
 What should hinder it from preaching a 
 new crusade ; from arming Europe against 
 England; from there striking root, and one 
 day treating the British, as it formerly treat- 
 ^d the Albigenses * ?" 
 
 * " II n'est qifiiii cas oii la tolerance puisse devenir 
 funeste a une nation ; c'est lorsqu'elle tolere une religion 
 intolerante : telle est la cathoiique. Cette religion deve- 
 nue la plus puissante dans un etat, y repandroit encore 
 le sang de ses stupides protecteurs ; c'est un serpent qui 
 piqueroit le sein qui I'auroit rechauffe. Que rAllemagne 
 y soit attentive ! Ses princes ont interet d'embrasser le 
 papisme: il leur offre de grands etablissements pour 
 leurs freres, leurs enfants, &c. Ces princes une fois 
 catholiques, voudront forcer la croyance de leurs sujets ; 
 ^ et dussent-ils encore verser le sang humain, ils le feront 
 
Sect, ii.] an Establishment. 155 
 
 May heaven manifest in the event the 
 falUbility of human foresight; and pour 
 down both on papist and protestant such a 
 measure of knowledge and charity, as shall 
 dispose them to lay aside their mutual pre- 
 judices and animosities, with whatever is 
 erroneous or corrupt in faith or worship, 
 and unite them in the bonds of truth and 
 peace ! 
 
 IL Having thus briefly pointed out the 
 nature and limits of toleration, we proceed 
 to consider it in the relation it bears to the 
 progress^ and next, to \he political effect of chris- 
 
 de nouveau couler. Les flambeaux de la superstition et 
 de rintolerance fument encore. Un leger souffle peut 
 les rallumer, et embraser I'Europe. Oii s'arreteroit 
 rincendie ? Je Tignore. La Hollande seroit-elle sure 
 (de s'y soustraire ? Le Breton lui meme pourroit il du 
 haut de ses dunes longtemps braver la fureur du catho- 
 lique ? Le fosse des mers est une barriere impuissantc 
 contre le fanatisme.- Qui rempecheroit de precher une 
 nouvelle croisade, d'armer I'Europe contre TAnglcterre, 
 d'y prendre terre, et de traiter un jour les Bretons, 
 comme il traita jadis les Albigeois r" 
 
 Helv. oh, 2.1, de r Homme. — CEuvre posthume. — 
 M. Helvetius, mourut en 1771. 
 
156 Toleration without [Part ir. 
 
 tianity, in a country where there is no ec- 
 clesiastical establishment. 
 
 It would seem probable in speculation, 
 that the native power of truth was sufficient 
 to ensure its success in the world. *' Truth/* 
 says Mr. Locke, *' would certainly do well 
 enough, if she were once left to shift for 
 herself/' and others speak the same lan- 
 guage. But here it is necessary to distin- 
 guish between those truths, which, being 
 merely theoretical, are able to make their 
 way by their own evidence ; from others, 
 Vhich, from their nearer relation with our 
 interests or passions, will, of course, be 
 more facilitated or obstructed in their pro- 
 gress. An instance or two, in each of these 
 leases, may serve both for proof and illus- 
 tration. 
 
 1. The elements of Euclid need no re- 
 commendation or enforcement beside their 
 own evidence ; thev are sure to find admis- 
 sion into every mind which is not naturally 
 incapable of understanding them ; and the 
 same may be asserted of many self-evident 
 or demonstrative truths in other branches of 
 science. 
 
Sect* ii.] an UstablisJiment, 157 
 
 2. Those triitlis which are conciirreiit 
 with any passion or interest, of a\ hich there 
 are numbers both in morahty and politics, 
 will be received with still greater facility. 
 That a servant ought to obey his master, a 
 son his father, or a subject his prince; or 
 that a disobedient servant, an undutiful 
 son, or a rebellious subject, deserves to be 
 punished ; are positions whose verity will 
 readily be acknowledged by the parties seve- 
 rally interested, or against whom the of- 
 fence is committed. In general, Ave are 
 forward to admit any truth so far as it is 
 binding upon others, and favourable to our- 
 selves. 
 
 3. When a truth happens to cross any 
 interest or passion of our own, the case is 
 altered; then our perception is dulled, we 
 hesitate in the face of the clearest evidence, 
 and (according to a remark of Hobbes) are 
 ready to dispute even the plainest mathe- 
 matical proposition, and still more those 
 w hich are of a moral and practical nature. 
 When one, for instance, who has suffered a 
 bankruptcy, is told of the equity of making 
 a full restitution to his creditors, whenever 
 
158 Toleratmi without [Part il 
 
 he is able, notwithstanding any legal acquit- 
 tance he may produce ; or one who has 
 rashly entered into engagements which are 
 highly to his disadvantage, that he is bound 
 to use every eflTort to fulfil them ; or one 
 who has received a challenge, with every 
 circumstance of insult, that it is his duty to 
 refuse it, and to forgive the man who thus 
 attempted to disgrace his character, or take 
 away his life : in these or similar cases, it 
 would be no surprize, if passion and interest 
 cast a cloud over his understanding, and 
 prevailed upon him to reject truths to which 
 they stood in direct contrariety. And should 
 we ascend still higher to those truths which 
 are more peculiar to Christianity, we should 
 probably find them exposed to the same or 
 still greater opposition. 
 
 It is therefore a position not to be univer- 
 sally admitted, that *' truth would do Avell 
 enoucrh if left to shift for itself;" nor does 
 Mr. Locke appear to have understood it in 
 this unlimited extent. In his second letter on 
 toleration he says, '' God alone can open the 
 ear that it may hear, and open the heart 
 that it may understand ;*' and a little after- 
 
Sect, ii.] ini Esiahlishmoit, 159 
 
 wards he observes, " Faifh is the gift of God ; 
 and we are not to use any means to procure 
 this gift to any one, but what God himself 
 has prescribed." Again, in his third letter 
 upon the same subject, speaking of salva- 
 tion, he tells us, *' There can be no neces- 
 sity of any other means than what God 
 expressly appoints, in a matter where no 
 means can operate effectually, zvitlioiit the assist- 
 ance of his grace ; and where the assistance of 
 his grace can make any outward means he ap- 
 points effectual,'' In these passages, the ne- 
 cessity of grace, in addition to all outward 
 means, or mere rational evidence, to render 
 divine truth efficacious to salvation, is clearlv^ 
 asserted ; and in this sentiment, I appre- 
 hend, he is in full agreement with all who 
 now bear the christian name, or who have 
 borne it in former ages, if wc except the 
 Pelagians and Socinians. 
 
 Further : The progress of Christianity in 
 any particular country (meaning by Chris- 
 tianity not only the name or doctrine, but 
 also the spirit and power of the religioa 
 taught in the New Testament) depends in 
 a considerable degree, subordinately to di- 
 
I 
 
 / 
 
 160 Toleration without [Part ii. [ 
 
 vine influence, on the number of" zealous 
 and well-informed christians the country 
 contains. A small chosen band of apostles 
 and evangelists converted the world, not- 
 withstanding all the opposition they encoun- 
 tered from its power and policy ; and a few 
 apostolical men, though without those mira- 
 culous powers which have long been with- 
 drawn from the church, but under the or-* 
 dinary and abiding efficacy of that promise, 
 Lo I am tvith you ahvay, even to the end of the 
 xvorldi would at this day be sufficient to carry 
 a saving light into the dark corners of a 
 land, and to revive the cause of piety where 
 it languished, or was ready to expire. But 
 when the power of Christianity is once lost 
 in a country, and a national establishment 
 is wanting to preserve the form, there is 
 danger lest its very name and profession 
 should vanish quite awayl ^ 
 
 Should it next be inquired, what would 
 be the effect of toleration on the external 
 form of Christianity, in a country where it 
 has gained a prevalence, we might almost 
 with certainty determine, that this would 
 b% its division into a multiplicity of parties 
 
 ».. 
 
 'fi^ f"^ 
 
Sect, ii.] an Estahlisfuncnt, IGI 
 
 and denominations. No one can be igno- 
 rant of* the various opinions that have been 
 Sheld concerning churcli-government; all of 
 which, under a general toleration, would 
 
 I have a free stage to act upon. In one dis- 
 trict, every parish would b^ a diocese,^ and 
 every pastor a bishop, wfthout any political 
 connection with other pastors or parishes. 
 In other districts, many parishes would as- 
 sociate, and put themselves under the direc- .. 
 tion of an ecclesiastical senate ; unless they 
 happened to prefer a monarchical. regimen. 
 And I can see no reason, why under any 
 of these forms, or all of them together, the 
 common cause of Christianity might not 
 both subsist and prosper, while the mode- 
 rating hand of the magistrate preserved the 
 several parties from mutual wrong and vio- 
 lence. 
 
 We come now to a fcAv short political 
 remarks on the subject before us. 
 
 I. A toleration such as here described,^ 
 would apparently much contribute to the ( 
 public strength and safety. As all good citi- 
 zens would in this case be united as in one 
 family, they would naturally look up, with s^ 
 
 M 
 
 ^/y 
 
e^'f 
 
 162 Toleration xcithout [Part ir. 
 
 the same duty and affection, to the state as 
 to their common parent. Or, should this 
 more ingenuous principle be wanting, they 
 would still be held by that tie, which is in- 
 deed the great bond of the world in its pre- 
 sent corrupt condition, I mean a sense of in^ 
 terest ; since they all would haA^e an equal 
 ^ stake in the community, as being equally 
 ( free to participate in its oflices, its honours, 
 and its emoluments. Every citizen would 
 i then say em])haticallj^ mi/ country, and would 
 defend it with the zeal of a man who con- 
 ; tends for his own patrimony. 
 ^ ( 2, Secondly: Of whatever relioious so- 
 \ ciety the magistrate may choose to be a 
 / member, he should take care to conduct,! 
 / himself in that relation as a private in- 
 
 dividual, and not as a public functionary ; ; 
 otherwise, by his political influence, he* 
 would probably corrupt the principles off 
 his own sect, and excite the jealousy ofl, 
 others; and this might gradually proceed!' 
 to a general depravity in religion, and att 
 last terminate in civil disturbances *. ItH 
 
 * « Xo maintain civil government in due vigour, andj 
 ^"^"^ / to allow a general liberty of conscience ; to act like a;j 
 
Sect, ii.] an Establishment. 
 
 might therefore become his prudence .,j 
 well as his piety, to stand at such a distance , 
 from ail appearance of partiality in his pub- 
 lic administration, that, if he made any 
 difference in dispensing his political favours, 
 he should rather deal them out with a sparing 
 hand to those of his own church than to 
 others, as such a conduct would serve to 
 convince the world that religion was no 
 secular interest, would' tend to allav the 
 jealousies of other churches, and promote 
 the purity of his own ; and would be a proba- 
 ble way to settle the country at large in a 
 state both of civil and religious tranquillitj^ •' 
 3. Lastly: While the religion of a conn- 
 try is divided into a multitude of sects, of/ 
 which no one, either in numbers or influ- ■ 
 ence, is much superior to the rest, the civil \ 
 power may, without much difficulty, keep ( 
 them all in due order. One sect would 
 oppose another, and by their mutual coun- 
 teraction a balance would be produced ; 
 and should this at anv time be disturbed to 
 
 king rather than a priest, is a sure way to preserve a 
 state from those tempests, whicli a dogmatical spirit 
 powerfully tends to excite." /hiti-Machiavcl, ch. 26. 
 
 ."» ^ 
 
 >v 
 
164 Toleration^ 8(c. [Part if. ;. 
 
 a degree inconsistent with the pubhc peace, \ 
 
 a gentle interposition of the magistrate's;' 
 
 authority might be sufficient to restore it. | 
 
 i' But should any one sect, whether by the j 
 
 force of truth, by the influence of a popular 'I 
 
 /leader, or some other cause, obtain a de-| 
 
 ( cided ascendancy, it might come to sway the j 
 
 government, and, by degrees, get it entirely ! 
 
 into its hands ; and then the result wouldl, 
 
 . i 
 
 be a?i establishinent : • di result which, sooner] 
 
 or later, under a general toleration, would l| 
 
 ) almost with certainty take place; just as a^ 
 
 monarchy is the usual and natural termina- j 
 
 / tion of a republic. And as a monarchy isi! 
 
 f either absolute or limited, so an establish- j 
 
 yment may either entirely exclude a tolera-^ i 
 
 , tion, or admit it under certain terms andii 
 
 / restrictions. 
 
 f 
 
 ) 
 
Sect, in.] ( 165 ) 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 On an Establislmient wkhont Toleration. 
 
 By an establishment is here meant these 
 three things ; an order of men set apart to 
 attend on the offices of relioion ; a lesral 
 provision for their maintenance ; and a re- 
 striction of this provision to teachers of a 
 certain description. It is such an establish- 
 ment, exclusive of a toleration, either com- 
 plete or partial, whose merits we are now 
 to examine. 
 
 It is evident this is a sj^stem which can 
 never be maintained without force ; for as 
 men differ widely in their opinions on almost 
 all subjects, and on none more than those 
 which are of a spiritual nature, they can 
 never be brought without coercion (nor per- 
 haps with it) to a perfect uniformity in their 
 creed, worship, or discipline. Every rea- 
 son therefore which can justly be urged 
 against the use of force in religion, will 
 
166 An Estahlislunent [Part ii. r 
 
 hold equally against the wisdom and pro- | 
 priety of such a system. 
 
 Amongst other arguments against the ap- ! 
 plication of force in things spiritual, we 
 may notice the following : 
 
 1. It is unfit. Religion depends on con- ! 
 viction, and all rational conviction depends ' 
 on evidence*; and force, whatever im- 
 pression it may make upon the body, is noi, 
 apt medium to convey light into the under- j 
 standing. It will convey indeed a feeling:! 
 intimation that you are willing another^, 
 should be of your opinion ; or, rather, that ; 
 he should speak your language, and con- 
 form to your practice; but will afford him- 
 no good reason why he should do either.. 
 Again, its unfitness may be also inferred) 
 from the utter silence of the New Testa- 
 ment, where we find a very particular 
 
 * To prevent ambiguity, let it here be observed, that 
 a proposition may be received either upon its own evi-, 
 dence, or upon the evidence we have of the knowledge 
 and veracity of the person who asserts it ; and in eitheri 
 case it may produce the most satisfactory convictions 
 When we have full proof of a divine revelation, alll: 
 doubt and hesitation must be excluded, notwithstanding! 
 any difficulty that may be found in the tilings revealed. 
 
Sect, in.] tiitliout Toleration, 167 
 
 enumeration of the means to be employed 
 in the spread of the gospel ; and among 
 them not the least mention or insinuation 
 of the use of force, wliich seems to denote 
 its exclusion ; and the same may be argued 
 still more strondv from its contrariety to the 
 whole genius of the christian dispensation. 
 Ml/ kingdom, says Christ, is not of this xvorld ; 
 if my kingdom icere of this xvorld, then icould 
 my servants fight ^, And when two of his 
 zealous disciples would have commanded 
 fire from heaven to consume a village of 
 the Samaritans, which refused to receive 
 him, he rebuked them, and said, ye know not 
 what manner of spirit ye are of; for the Son of 
 man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to 
 save them\. In the same spirit of charity 
 and forbearance, the apostle Paul tells his 
 son Timothy, tlie servant of t/ie Lord must 
 not strive, but be gentle iinto all men, apt to 
 teach, patient, in meekness instructing those that 
 oppose themselves : if God pcradventure vcill 
 give them repentance to the acknoic [edging of 
 the trut]i\. Nor let any one here suggest^ 
 
 * John xviii. 36. f Luke ix. 54-6. X 2 Tim. ii. 24. 5. 
 
168 An Establislmient [Part ii. 
 
 that though the servant of the Lord must not 
 strive himself, he may get the magistrate to 
 strive for him ; lest by such a gloss he should 
 give room to suspect, that he had more of 
 the spirit of an inquisitor, than of the spirit 
 which animated the apostle. Lastly, the 
 gospel is provided with powers of its own, 
 and which are best adapted to the accom- 
 plishment of its own purposes ; and it cer- 
 tainly stands in no need of human violence, 
 or of that wrath of man which worketh not 
 the righteousness of God^, 
 
 * " The whole covenant and work of grace, is the 
 contrivance of God's infinite wisdom. What it is, and 
 by what means he will dispense his grace, is known to 
 us by revelation only ; which is so little suited to human 
 wisdom, that the apostle calls it the foolis/mess of preach- 
 ing* In the scripture is contained all that revelation, 
 and all things necessary for that work, all the means of 
 grace : there God has declared all that he would have 
 done for the salvation of souls : and if he had thought 
 force necessary to be joined with the foolishness of 
 preachings no doubt but he would, somewhere or other, 
 have revealed it, and not left it to the wis.dom of man ; 
 which, how disproportioned and opposite it is to the 
 wavs and wisdom of God in the gospel, and how unfit 
 to be trusted in the business of salvation, you may see. 
 1 Cor. i. from ver. 17 to the end." 
 
 Mr. Locke's Third Letter on Toleration, ch. x. p. 304. 
 
Sect, hi.] tvitlumt Toleration, 169 
 
 2. Another argument against the use of 
 force in rehgion, is, tluit it prevents free and 
 impartial inquiry. To search in this manner, 
 the mind must be thoroughly disposed to 
 obtain all the light it can u])on the subject 
 in question, and to be determined by it ; 
 which iuiplies that it is neither warped by 
 prejudice, nor swayed by affection. This 
 equal state of the understanding will hardly 
 be able to subsist w4iile the rod hangs sus- 
 j)ended over the head of the inquirer, and 
 ready to smite, should he be led to a con- 
 elusion different from that prescribed by the 
 power to which he is subject. For as fear 
 (according to the remark of a Hebrew sage *) 
 betrays the succours ivhicli reason offeretli, so it 
 is equally unpropitious to reason itself; it 
 prevents its just exercise, it weakens its 
 powers, and reduces it to bondage, and, at 
 the same time, cuts off those succoui^ which 
 are offered for its assistance. Thus the 
 dread of an inquisition, or of some other 
 tribunal much less formidable, has often in- 
 tercepted the light and aid afforded by 
 
 * Book of Wisdom, ch. xvii. ver. 12, 
 
170 A7i EstablisJmient [Fart it. 
 
 revelation, and prevented all examination 
 into its evidence or doctrines, notwithstand- 
 ing the many declarations it contains to the 
 contrary : //' ye believe not me, said our Sa- 
 viour, believe the ivorks, that ye may know and 
 believe that the Father is in me and I in him *; 
 which is a manifest apj)eal to the under- 
 standing of the Jews, implying, that they 
 ought to infer his mission from the wonders 
 which he wrought. Go, says he elsewhere, 
 and shoxv John these things : — the blind receive 
 their sight, and the lame ivalk ; the lepers are 
 cleansed, and the deaf hear ; tJie dead are raised 
 np, and the poor have the gospel preached to 
 them ; and blessed is he whosoever shall not be 
 offended in jnef; which conveys another 
 appeal of the same nature. On another 
 occasion he directs the Jews to search the 
 scriptures, because in them was eternal life|:. 
 And when the Pharisees with the Sadducees 
 required of him a sign from heaven, he 
 answered. When ye see a cloud rise out of the 
 west, straightivay ye say, there cometh a shoiver, 
 and so it is ; and ivhen ye see the south wind 
 
 * John X. 38. t Matt. xi. 5, 6. X John v. 39. 
 
Sect, hi.] xcithout Toleration. 171 
 
 bloic, yc sai/j tJicrc ic'ill be heat, and it cometli 
 to pass. Ye Jn/pocrites, ye can discern the face 
 of the sky and of the earth ; hut how is it that 
 ye do not discern this time ? Yea, and ivJiy 
 even of yourselves judge ye not ichat is right ^? 
 AVliich contains a vehement exprobration of 
 their neo:lect to make the same use of their 
 understandings in spiritual as they did in 
 natural things. In the x\cls of the Apostles, 
 the Bereans are commended as more noble 
 (^svysvss-i^oi, better-born, or of a more liberal 
 and generous nature) than those of Thessa- 
 lonica, because they received the uwd with all 
 readiness, and searched the scriptures daily whe- 
 ther these t /tings icere so-f. Prove all things, 
 says the apostle to the Thessalonians, hold 
 fast that tchich is goodi. And again he thus 
 addresses the Corinthians : My brethren, be 
 not children in understanding, howbeit, in malice 
 be ye cJiildren, but in understanding be men^, 
 I have cited these passages to show, that 
 Christianity both commands and encouraoes 
 a fair and serious examination ; that its ge- 
 
 * Luke xii. 54-7, and Matt. xvi. 1-3. 
 ^ t Acts xvii. 10. X 1 Thcss. V. 21. § 1 Cor. xiv. 20. 
 
172 • An Establishment [Part ii. 
 
 nius is noble and generous, and rejects all 
 violent and coercive methods ; as being per- 
 fectly sufficient by its own light and efficacy 
 alone, without any aid from such mecha- 
 nical force, both to convince the under- 
 standing, and to caj3tivate the heart to the 
 obedkjice of faith. 
 
 3. A third argument against intolerance 
 in religion is, tJiat it affords a presumption 
 against the religion itself it is meant to support ; 
 as may appear from the following considera- 
 tions. 
 
 And, first, we may observe that, in general, 
 violence is less a character of strength than 
 of weakness, and especially in things intel- 
 lectual or moral. When a man is clear 
 and decided in his judgment, he is better 
 able to brook opposition than when he is 
 cloudy and wavering. He feels the force 
 of the old adage, viagna est Veritas et prevale- 
 bit; he is secure and temperate in the de- 
 fence of a cause which he knows must 
 triumph ; and is more disposed to regard its 
 enemies with forbearance and pity, than to 
 pursue them with a rash and cruel resent- 
 ment. There are few persons, I suppose, 
 
Sect, hi.] zcit/wut Tolcntiion. \13 
 
 who may not recollect, that in their literary, 
 or religious debates, they have been most 
 gentle and tolerant, when they have had 
 the clearest evidence on their side; and 
 that a consciousness of strength has, in this 
 case, inspired them with moderation; and, 
 on the contrary, that they have been most 
 intolerant and irascible when reason has 
 most failed them. Nor w^as the honest 
 countryman much out in his judgment, 
 who (as is said) excused his going to hear a 
 Latin disputation at the university, by ob- 
 serving, that he should know which of the 
 parties was foiled in the contest, by noting 
 him who first lost his temper. Thus a vio- 
 lent spirit furnishes to the most simple by- 
 stander a presumption against the goodness 
 of the cause in which it is employed ; and 
 to him who is actually galled and smarting 
 under i the rod of persecution, we cannot 
 w^onder if this presumption should be ad- 
 vanced to a reputed certainty. 
 
 Another branch of this argument against 
 intolerance may thus be deduced. Divine 
 truth is perhaps of all other the most diffi- 
 cult to be attained or communicated. Its 
 
174 ' A}i Establishment [Part ii. 
 
 ancient alliance with the human mind he- 
 ing broken, we are now apt to regard it 
 w^ith suspicion, to entertain it w4th jealousy, 
 to be startled with any slight objection 
 asainst it, and to be offended with every 
 appearance of intemperate zeal or of mis- 
 conduct in its friends or advocates. An 
 experience of these sad effects of our com- 
 mon apostasy w^ill dispose a wise and good 
 man to forbearance ; he will say, let those 
 deal harshly Avith opposers, wdio have never 
 known the difficulties that lie in the way of 
 truth, and the darkness in w^hich it is often 
 involved ; w ho have never been duly sen- 
 sible of the w^eakness of human understand- 
 ing, and of the innumerable prejudices and 
 passions w^hich impede its progress, and 
 fetter its exertions. Hence, from a want 
 of forbearance, may be inferred a want of 
 examination, or serious inquiry ; and wdiat 
 we have not sought, it is not probable w^e 
 have found. And thus will the conclusion 
 again follow, that intolerance in religion 
 forms by itself a just objection against the 
 very religion it is meant to support. 
 
 It may further be observed under this 
 
Sfxt. III.] xcithout Toleration. 175 
 
 liead, that as the natural expression of truth 
 is charity, and as charity is very unnaturally 
 expressed by persecution, it must be an 
 obvious consequence, that between perse- 
 cution and truth there can be no legitimate 
 connection. And, indeed, the former is 
 so extremely repugnant both to the spirit 
 and precepts of Christianity, as to afford a 
 powerful argument against any doctrine or 
 church by which it is taught or practised. 
 '* That the true disciples of Christ," says 
 Mr. l.ocke, '' must suffer persecution, the 
 gospel frequently declares, but that the 
 church of Christ should persecute others, 
 and force them by fire and sword to embrace 
 her faith and doctrines, I could never yet 
 find in any of the books of the New Testa- 
 ment*." 
 
 4. The last argument I shall notice 
 against the use of force in religion, is, that 
 it makes hypocrites. For as force is not suited 
 to produce conviction, and is suited to pro- 
 duce an external compliance, it must evi- 
 dently tend to produce hypocrisy. This 
 
 * First Letter on Toleration. 
 
17^ All EstabUsIimeiit [Part ii. 
 
 tendency has indeed in many instances been 
 counteracted and overcome, as ap})ears 
 from that cloud of ivitncsses, who have nobly 
 sacrificed their ease, their estates, and even 
 their lives for the sake of religion ; but in 
 too many other instances we have to lament, 
 that the dread of suffering has prevailed 
 against faith and a good conscience. Under 
 the primitive persecutions there were num- 
 bers who disavowed or dissembled their real 
 sentiments; and under similar trials, the 
 same, doubtless, has happened in every 
 subsequent period. This falshood and pre- 
 varication appears to have been frequent 
 among the French protestants during the ; 
 bigoted and cruel reign of Lewis the Four- j 
 teenth. And if we look back to the history I 
 of our own country, from the rejection of 
 the Pope's supremacy by Henry the Eighth, i 
 to the establishment of the reformation by ' 
 Elizabeth, we find, during this short period 
 of about twenty-five years, four revolutions ' 
 in religion, in each of which a great ma- '■ 
 jority, both of the clergy and laity, com- ! 
 plied with the requisition of the prince; 
 wdiich certainly many of them could not do 
 
Sect, hi.] tvithout Toleration. Ill 
 
 without the grossest dissimulation. These 
 are historical ikcts whicli reflect disgrace 
 on human nature; and should excite us all 
 diligently to cherish and strengthen our reli- 
 gious jjrinciple, and to deprecate a season, 
 which might put the most confimied piety 
 to a severe and dangerous trial. 
 
 Such are the general arguments we have 
 thought fit to propose against the use of 
 force in religion, and which may perhaps 
 receive some further illustration, by con- 
 sidering the effects of intolerance in its 
 three following stages and gradations. 
 
 1. First, when it is merely negativey or 
 when it only prohibits any religious exercise 
 or profession, unauthorized by the church 
 established. In this case, as the rigid dis- 
 senter would be debarred from any public 
 worship of God, his devotional exercises 
 must be confined within the walls of his 
 own house, where, if practised at all, it is 
 not probable they would long continue with- 
 out the aid and encouragement derived 
 from social piety, and from that regular 
 public instruction, on which the prospe- 
 rity, and, in respect to the bulk of a 
 
 N 
 
178 A7i Establishinent [Part ii. 
 
 people, the very existence of religion so 
 much depends. And should he further be 
 restrained from proposing his particular sen- 
 timents to his fellow-citizens, thev would 
 then be shut up within his own breast, 
 which probably would produce either a 
 sullen dissatisfaction, and a more confirmed 
 dissent, or lead him to a disregard or rejec- 
 tion of all religion whatever. 
 
 2. The next stage of intolerance would 
 be to use compulsory methods to enforce a 
 public attendance on the teaching and of- 
 fices of the church. Now suppose a con- 
 gregation thus driven together under a ser- 
 ^ mon, would not the probable consequence 
 be, that half of them would not listen at ^ 
 all, and that the other half would hear with 
 prejudice and resentment? And though some 
 
 of them should learn what thev knew^ not i 
 
 I 
 
 before, it would be to no good purpose, un-- 
 less they were brought to love the instruc- \ 
 tion ; which would be as improbable, as . 
 diat a boy at school should love his lesson, j 
 when he was taught it with the rod con- , 
 stantly suspended over liim. And should | 
 people be driven in like manner to the } 
 
Sect, hi.] without Toleration. 179 
 
 prayers of the church, or to her sacraments, 
 especially if conceived or administered in a 
 mode disagreeing (whether rightly or not) 
 with their own judgment, no one will ima- 
 gine that it would any better conduce to 
 their edification. It is true indeed, and to 
 be much lamented, that the same grievances 
 exist in every congregation, though volun- 
 tarily assembled ; some hearers are careless, 
 some prejudiced, while others, though they 
 receive the truth, yet they receive it not in 
 love, or with practical effect ; and no more 
 is here meant than to note the probability, 
 that by an application oi force, these evils 
 Avould be still more extended and aggra- 
 vated. 
 
 3. The last stage of intolerance that re- 
 mains to be remarked, is, w hen force is em- 
 ployed to extort a public approbation of 
 some established form of doctrine, worship, 
 or discipline. This is a degree of spiritual 
 tyranny, for which no plea would be heard 
 except by a Spanish inquisition. An injunc- 
 tion of silence might derive a kind of apo- 
 logy fi'om considerations of the public peace, 
 and the general interests of truth. Even 
 
 N 2 
 
\ 
 
 180 An Establishmerit [Part ii. [ 
 
 a compulsory attendance on the established | 
 means of instruction might receive some \ 
 plausible defence, from a regard to the spi- | 
 ritual welfare of the party immediately in- ! 
 terested. But by compelling the open 
 avowal of a falshood, to make a direct and '- 
 violent attack upon a man's conscience, and , 
 thus to put him under the most dangerous 
 temptation, (hat of sacrificing his integrity I 
 to his ease, his interest, or his safety, is a I 
 proceeding which admits of no pretext or ', 
 apology, and deserves to be treated with i 
 marked and universal detestation. These | 
 are horrors which it may be useful to recal , 
 to remembrance, in order to make us more 
 grateful for our present blessings ; for that • 
 liberty and security which were purchased , 
 by the blood of our forefathers, and are 
 handed down to us as our fairest inheritance; j 
 and which, I trust, it will be our zealous and I 
 faithful endeavour to transmit sacred andi; 
 unimpaired to our latest posterity. 
 
 Having thus stated the probable influence'! 
 of religious intolerance on religion itself;, 
 we now proceed to view it in some other'' 
 respects. 
 
Sect, hi.] xvitliout Toleration, 181 
 
 1. It tends to produce wars and commo- 
 tions within the bosom of* a state, whenever 
 the part untolerated bears any considerable 
 j)roportion to the whole. Men naturally 
 resist oj)pression, and especially when it is 
 exercised in religious matters. They will, 
 in general, more easily suffer an encroach- 
 ment upon their civil rights and liberties, 
 than to be prescribed to in their faith and 
 worship. When their consciences are thus 
 touched, they are immediately roused to 
 opposition, and are ready to repel the vio- 
 lence by every means in their power. To 
 this spirit of intolerance, we are chiefly to 
 ascribe the wars in Germany at the time of 
 the reformation ; the civil war in France, 
 which commenced under Charles the Ninth, 
 and continued, with some intermissions, for 
 thirty years ; the insurrection of the Low 
 Countries, which happily terminated in the 
 deliverance of seven provinces from the in- 
 quisition, and from the tyranny of Spain ; 
 and, to name one instance more, the last 
 civil war in our land, which destroyed the 
 monarchy, and brought the king himself to 
 the scaffold. 
 
18^ An Establishmeiit [Part ii. 
 
 2. It tends to depopulate and impoverish a 
 slate. Men who cannot enjoy, in their own 
 country, the hberty to worship God in the 
 manner which they judge most acceptable 
 to him, will generally be disposed to seek 
 this liberty elsewhere. They may not with- 
 draw with clamour, or in large bodies ; but 
 the state will find itself insensibly drained 
 of its citizens, without any accession of fo- 
 reigners to supply their place ; for few will 
 be inclined to submit themselves to a power 
 which would impose shackles on their minds 
 as well as their bodies. And if to this silent 
 emigration is added the more sensible and 
 sudden diminution, occasioned by those coer- 
 cive methods which some infatuated go- 
 vernments have employed to rid themselves 
 of their subjects, the country must quickly 
 be reduced to a want of sufficient hands to 
 carry on its necessary business. Thus by 
 the expulsion of seven hundred thousand 
 Jews from Spain, by Ferdinand and Isabella, 
 and of as many Moriscoes about a hundred 
 years afterwards, by Philip the Third, and 
 for no other reason, which appears, than 
 because they would not turn catholics, the 
 
Sect, hi.] zokJwut Toleration. 18:? 
 
 agriculture and commerce of that unhappy 
 country received a blow, from which they 
 never recovered*. And at a later period, 
 France, on the same account, bereaved 
 herself of half a million of her best subjects, 
 who carried into this and other countries 
 those arts and manufactures, by which they 
 were not permitted to enrich their own -f-. 
 Such are the dire effects of intolerance when 
 it stalks through a land ! Its inhabitants are 
 thimied, its trade languishes, its fields and 
 vineyards lie waste; before it is as the garden 
 of Eden, and behind it a desolate wilderness. 
 
 3. The miseries of intolerance will fur- 
 ther appear, if we look more closely into 
 dts effects in the. interior of a country. It 
 -degrades tlie national character,,- which (ac- 
 coi'ding to a former remark) Is not more 
 ennobled and elevated by a just liberty, 
 than it is sunk and debased by tyranny ; 
 
 . * See I'Histoire des Juifs, par Basnage, liv. vii. chap. 
 21'. L'Histoire Genciale, par Voltaire, ch. 146. and 
 Michael Geddes' account of the expulsion of the'^Md- 
 riscoes from Spain. 
 
 t Hume's History of England, vol. viii. p. 255-6. 
 
 
184 An Establishment [Part ii. 
 
 and by religious tyranny more than by any 
 other. It fills a land, as we have seen, 
 with hypocrisy ; for since, under the reign 
 of intolerance, there is no medium between 
 a confessor and a hypocrite for such as dis- 
 sent from the national church, it is more 
 than probable that, in the present state of 
 human nature, those of the latter character 
 will form the larger body. — It obstructs all 
 that ingenuous and friendly intercourse 
 which constitutes the principal charm of so- 
 cial life ; the most important topic of ra- 
 tional and interesting converse is nearly cut 
 off; and every other that bears the remotest 
 relation to it must be treated with a caution, 
 which will suffer no word or sentiment to 
 escape that might be construed into hereti- 
 cal pravity. In a word, the foundations are 
 out of cotcj^se, mutual confidence is shaken, 
 and every man is tempted to look with sus- 
 picion on his neighbour, from a secret appre- 
 hension lest, instead of a fellow-citizen, he 
 should find in him a familiar of the inquisi- 
 tion. 
 
 4, Lastly : Religious despotism casts an 
 unfavourable aspect on many branches even 
 
Sect, hi.] xvithout Toleration. 18.5 
 
 of human knowledge ; it may be sufficient 
 to instance in political and natural science. 
 
 As all our duties, civil as well as natural, 
 bccir some relation to religion, and are 
 bound upon us by its authority, it must be 
 obvious to every one, how easily a spiritual 
 jurisdiction, erected by fanatical, supersti- 
 tious, or designing men, may be made to 
 extend itself over affairs that are purely 
 secular. And, in fact, such a jurisdiction, 
 during many former ages, was extended 
 over a great part of the christian world. 
 The reciprocal rights and duties of sove- 
 reigns and subjects, which it is of so much 
 importance to establish, and so extremely 
 dangerous to nullify or relax, have been 
 often entirely superseded by the usurped 
 Ijpower of the Roman pontiffs, w^ho, at their 
 pleasure, have imposed sovereigns over some 
 nations, and released other nations, or the 
 same, from all obedience to their sovereigns. 
 In the year thirteen hundred and two. Mat- 
 theio Visconti, lord of Milan, was summoned 
 before the inquisition, at the instance of 
 pope John the Twenty-second, and branded 
 with licresf/, lor no other reason than his 
 
186 An Estahlishment [Part ii. 
 
 attachment to his superior lord, Leids, the 
 emperor of Bavaria ; and other feudatory 
 chiefs were treated in hke manner, and on 
 the same account*. In the last gaieral 
 states held in France before those summoned 
 at the commencement of the late revolu- 
 tion, when a motion was made by the tiers 
 etat, or the comnions, for the establishment 
 of a law, '* that no spiritual power could 
 .deprive kings of their rights, and that it 
 was high treason for anj^ one to teach they 
 might justly be deposed or murdered ;*' the 
 cardinal du Perron vehemently contended, 
 against the proposition, asserting, " that: 
 the papal power was direct as to spirituals,, 
 indirect as to temporals ; and that he wasi 
 commissioned to declare, in the name of the.^ 
 l^hole Gallican church, that whoever de-^ 
 :iued the power of the pope to depose kings,,, 
 should be excommunicated f." When thai 
 principles of political science are thus con- 
 
 * L'Histoire Generale, par Voltaire, ch. 118. 
 
 t Id. ch. 206. This happened in 1614. It is true, 
 the French clergy held a different language in 1682i[ 
 (Id. ibid.) What they hold at present I cannot tell. ■ 
 
Sect, hi.] xvltliout Toleration. 187 
 
 traded by an arrogant tribunal, M'liose au- 
 thority, if any one presume to question, he 
 is treated as a heretic, their progress cannot 
 fail to be greatly impeded. 
 
 Nor has natural science suffered less un- 
 der the baleful influence of a superstitious 
 tyranny. Nature and religion corresponded 
 to each other at their origin ; they corres- 
 pond to each other still ; for Christianity is 
 the religion of nature as now fallen; and 
 that science which more clearly unfolds the 
 present constitution and laws of the natural 
 Avorjd, is favourable to the christian system, 
 and is favoured by it. All this is reversed 
 in the case before us ; since between super- 
 stition and a sound philosophy there can be 
 no agreement. Hence her menacing de- 
 nunciations against inquiries which might 
 ■detect her ignorance, and endanger her pre- 
 tensions : 
 
 Furlarum maxima juxta 
 
 Accubat, 
 
 Exsurgitquc facem attollens, atque intonat ore. 
 
 VIRGIL. 
 
 / 
 
 This persecuting rage has been experi- 
 enced by learned and inquisitive men at 
 
188 An Establishment [Part ii. 
 
 different periods. It was experienced in 
 the thirteenth century by our renowned 
 countryman, Roger Bacon, who was accused 
 as a magician by the general of his order, 
 and by pope Clement the Fourth cast into 
 the prison of the inquisition at Rome, where 
 he remained shut up for many years, and 
 for no other cause, that we know oi\ than 
 his superiority to the age in which he hved. 
 It was experienced by the equally renowned 
 Florentine, Galileo, who, three hundred years 
 afterwards, was thrown into the same prison 
 in the same city, for maintaining the earth's 
 motion and the sun's immobility ; a heresy 
 which, at length, he was brought to abjure, 
 and in a manner the most humiliating *. 
 
 * It may not be displeasing to some of my readers 
 to find here a more particular account of this extraor- 
 dinary transaction, as history affords us few documents 
 which show more strongly the repugnancy between su- 
 perstition and true philosophy. It was one Scheiner, a 
 Jesuit, who denounced the above opinion of Galileo to 
 the inquisition, which, after examination, condemned 
 it 2iS heretical i and directed Cardinal Bellamine to ex--,' 
 postulate with the author, and to require him to renounce :'. 
 the said opinion, and no more to teach it by word or 
 writing j which the philosopher having promised, he ;! 
 
Sect. III.] icitJumi Toleration. 189 
 
 Such things have been, and may again be, 
 should perverted science invite the return 
 of superstition, and abused Uberty drive the 
 
 was for that time dismissed. But afterwards, taking 
 advantage of two inquisitorial decrees of a different 
 tenor, he ventured to republish his former doctrine, and, 
 in consequence, was again summoned before the holij 
 office^ and received its solemn and definitive sentence, 
 of which the following is an extract. 
 
 *' We, Gaspar Borgia^ ho., cardinals of the holy 
 Roman church, specially deputed by the holy apostolic 
 See, to be inquisitors against heretical pravity through- 
 out the whole christian republic. Whereas you, Galileo, 
 son of the late Vincent Galileo, of Florence, aged 
 seventy, were informed against in the year 1615, in 
 this holy office, that you maintained as true a certain 
 false doctrine, held by many, viz. that the sun was in 
 the centre of the world, and immoveable, and that the 
 earth moved even with a daily motion. — We do by this 
 our definitive sentence, judge and declare, that you the 
 aforesaid Galileo have rendered yourself vehemently 
 suspected of heresy to this holy oj/ice, and consequently 
 that you have incurred all the censures and penalties ap- 
 pointed by the sacred canons, and other constitutions^ 
 against such offenders ; from which, notwithstanding, 'tis 
 our pleasure that you should be absolved, provided that 
 you do first, with a sincere heart, and faith unfeigned, 
 abjure, curse, and detest before us the aforesaid errors 
 and heresies, and every other error and heresy, con- 
 trary to the catholic and apostolic Roman church, in 
 
190 An Establishment [Part ii. 
 
 nations to seek refuge under the reign of 
 despotism. 
 
 Should it still be alleged, notwithstand- 
 
 that form which shall be exhibited to you by us. But 
 lest your pernicious and grievous error and transgression 
 should go altogether unpunished, and that yourself may 
 be rendered more cautious for the future, and that you 
 may be an example to others, that they may abstain 
 from such crimes, we decree, that the Book of Dia- 
 logues of Galileo shall be prohibited by a public edict, 
 and we condemn you formally to be imprisoned in this 
 holy office for a time determinable at our pleasure ; and 
 we enjoin you, under the title of a voluntary penance, 
 that for the three years ensuing you repeat, once in a 
 week, the seven penitential psalms; reserving to our- 
 selves the power of moderating, changing, or wholly, 
 or in part, removing the aforesaid penalties and penances. 
 Thus we the underwritten cardinals pronounce." Sub- 
 scribed by seven cardinal inquisitors. 
 
 In consequence of the above sentence, Galileo, re* 
 duced to his knees before the holy tribunal, made his 
 abjuration ; in which, among other particulars, he says, 
 ** Having been juridically enjoined and commanded, 
 wholly to forsake that false opinion, Avhich holds that 
 the sun is the centre and immoveable ; and having since 
 written and printed a book, in which I treat of the said 
 doctrine already condemned, and produce arguments of 
 great force in favour of it, without giving any answer 
 to them, 1 am now judged by the holy office as vehe- 
 mently suspected of heresy, viz. that I have held and 
 
Sect, hi.] without Toleration. 191 
 
 irig all that has been advanced upon this 
 topic, that every man, ruler as well as sub- 
 ject, must be directed by his own conscience; 
 let it be observed on the other side, that 
 when conscience is erroneous, all that is 
 done in obedience to it must partake of its 
 
 believed that the sun is the centre of the world, and 
 that the earth is not the centre, nor at rest. Being 
 therefore willing to remove from the minds of your 
 Eminences, and of every catholic christian, this vehe- 
 ment suspicion legally conceived against me, I do, with 
 a sincere heart and faith unfeigned, abjure, curse, and 
 detest the aforesaid errors and heresies, and in general 
 every other error and sect contrary to the aforesaid holy 
 church." 
 
 After some other penitential confessions and protesta- 
 tions, he thus concludes: " I the abovesaid Gahleo, 
 have abjured, sworn, promised, and obliged myself as 
 above ; and in testimony thereof have subscribed, with 
 my own proper hand, this present record of my abjura- 
 tion, and have repeated it word for word at Rome, ia 
 the convent of Minerva, the 22d day of July, 1633." 
 
 No sooner however was he set at libertv, than seized 
 (as we arc told) with remorse, he cast hh eyes upon 
 the ground, and, striking it with his foot, said indig- 
 nantly, fE pur si move) it moves notzcithstanding. 
 See 2uerelles literaires, torn. iii. p. 41-52; and Aji 
 j(intidote against Poperi/, by John Marchant, London. 
 1756, p. 110-17. 
 
192 An Establishment, 8(c, [Part ii. 
 
 viciousiiess and obliquity. It is possible the 
 magistrate may seriousl)^ think it his duty 
 to use force in matters of religion ; yet, if 
 his persuasion rests upon insufficient grounds, 
 such an application of force would be wrong 
 and unjustifiable. It is not enough for a 
 religious intolerant to plead conscience ; it 
 remains for him still to^ inquire hozv he came 
 by his conscience; whether it was formed 
 corruptly or negligently, or upon the prin- 
 ciples of piety and charity, after due exa- 
 mination and circumspection. By proceed- 
 ing in this manner, he may be led to dis- 
 cover, that his conscience is little better 
 than a misguided zeal, or perhaps a mere 
 illusion of superstition or enthusiasm, that 
 has served for a pretext to his pride, or 
 some worldly interest; and the more his 
 place in society is consequential and ele- ! 
 vated, the more is such an inquiry of im- ' 
 portance both to himself and others. 
 
Sect, iv.] ( 193 ) 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Of ah Establishment togetJier with a Toleration, 
 and this either complete, or partial. 
 
 The meaning of the terms in the title of 
 this section have been before explained. It 
 has been said, that by an establishment is 
 understood, an order of men set apart to 
 attend on the offices of religion ; a legal 
 provision for their maintenance ; and a re- 
 striction of this provision to teachers of a 
 certain description : That by a cojnplete tole- 
 ration is meant, the undisturbed profession 
 and exercise of rdigion, together with ad- 
 mission to every privilege and office belong- 
 ing to the civil government ; and by ^pai^tial 
 toleration, the same full enjoyment of reli- 
 gious liberty, but with restrictions in respect 
 to civil privileges and advantages. - 
 
 After this brief repetition (in order to 
 avoid ambiguities) we proceed to consider, 
 first, in what manner an establishment, in 
 
 o 
 
194 ' An Establislnncnt [Part ii. | 
 
 conjunction with a complete or partial tole- | 
 ration, bears upon the two great ends to I 
 which it ought to be directed, namely, pub- \ 
 lie instriictloji, and public union and tranqnil- 
 liiy ; and shall then take a short view of 
 the sentiments of pagans and Roman catho- , 
 lies, respecting the expediency of the sys- j 
 tern here in question. 
 
 Under a general toleration without an | 
 establishment, there is evident danger, lest 
 some parts of a country should be left without 
 any public administration of religion at all. 
 If we look around us in our own land, where 
 such an administration is legally provided, we : 
 find numbers, especially in the upper ranks;! 
 of life, who statedly withdraw themselves 
 from it, and many others w-ho attend with 
 much indifference ; so that, w^ere no suchi 
 provision made, w^e have little reason toi 
 expect, that either the one or the other 
 would supply the deficiency ; and those w hoj 
 were of a better mind, would probably, att 
 least in some places, be too few and incon--; 
 siderable to provide for themselves. Hence, 
 in such circumstances, the public worship ij. 
 of God would be in danger of a total ex-^ 
 
Sect. iv.J together xvitJi Toleration, 195 
 
 tinction, without the aid of the magistrate, 
 who, bj^ dividing the country into commo- 
 dious districts, and planting in each a clerical 
 teacher, affords to all its inhabitants the 
 means of religious instruction. And should 
 it be said, to diminish this advantage, that 
 the magistrate's religion may possibly be 
 erroneous ; yet still, let it be remembered, 
 that there is scarce an}^ religion which is not 
 better than none, as there is scarce any 
 which does not inculcate some important 
 principles of moral duty. Besides, under a 
 complete toleration, which is here supposed, 
 if the people be not satisfied with the reli- 
 gion established, they are left to their own 
 liberty ; the magistrate comes not to dic- 
 tate, but to assist ; he says, 1 have provided 
 lor j^ou the best I can ; if you can do better 
 for yourselves, I am glad of it. 
 
 One apparent advantage of the scheme 
 now stated, and in which it is little inferior 
 to that of a toleration xvithout an establialunent, 
 is, that it unites all the citizens in a zealous 
 attachment to their country, where they 
 all have a common concern, and where. 
 
 o 2 
 
196 An EstahllsJiment [Part ii. 
 
 every invidious distinction being set aside, 
 each is permitted to aspire after any privi- 
 lege or office, to which his virtues or talents 
 mav recommend or entitle him. Thus a 
 nation is bound together by a regard to in- 
 dividual honour and interest, the strongest 
 of all human ties ; their resources are con- 
 solidated; they are better able to resist 
 foreign violence, or to quell internal dis- 
 turbance ; and to advance still further their 
 common security and v^elfare. 
 
 On the other hand it must be acknow- 
 ledged, that it is a scheme which, however 
 favourable it may be to the state, may en- 
 danger the stability of the church. For as 
 it allows to dissenters a free access to every 
 station of public trust and influence, and 
 even to a place in the senate or in the cabinet, 
 they may at length get full possession of the 
 government ; and then (as on a former oc- 
 casion we have remarked) it is probable 
 they w^ould change the present ecclesiastical 
 establishment for another more agreeable to 
 their own principles. By* what methods, 
 under a complete toleration, the church may i 
 
 m 
 
Sect, iv.] iogcUier icitli Toleration. 197 
 
 best secure itself against such a revolution, 
 we shall endeavour to show at large in the 
 next section. 
 
 Of a partial toleration we may observe, 
 that, in regard to religion only, it is nearly 
 upon a level with that which is complete; 
 snice it leaves every one without compulsion, 
 either to join himself to the establishment, or 
 to pursue his own edification in any way he 
 may think better. In other respects, the 
 difference appears more considerable. The 
 tendency of a complete toleration^ as we 
 have seen, is in favour of the state, but 
 unfavourable to the establishment. On the 
 contrar}^ a /;^r//^/ toleration maj^seem to give 
 more security to the establishment, as it ex- 
 cludes from the government all those who 
 might endanger its safety ; and to be less fa- 
 Aourable to the state, as it tends to breed 
 dissatisfaction in a body of citizens truly at- 
 tached to their country, by laying them under 
 incapacities oi serving it, and of serving it too 
 in ways which yield both honour and emolu- 
 ment. And though very moderate men might 
 overlook such discriminations, others would 
 resent them ; and it is the part of a wise go- 
 
198 An Establishment [Part ii. 
 
 vernment, by every possible measure, to pre- 
 vent or remove such oftbnces,and to unite all 
 its subjects in the same affectionate attach- 
 ment to one another, and to the general wel- 
 fare. 
 
 II. Of the expediency of a national esta- 
 blishment of religion, were we to take our 
 opinion from the general usage of the world, 
 we should judge very favourably. Warbur- 
 ton goes so far as to maintain, that through 
 all antiquity the practice was universal. 
 ** We find,'' says he, " all states and people 
 in the ancient world had an established reli- 
 gion, which was under the more immediate 
 protection of the civil magistrate, in con- 
 tradistinction to those who were only tole- 
 rated *.'' This he elsewhere extends to mo- 
 dern times; and to support his assertion, 
 cites a passage from Taveimier, a famous 
 voyager, who, in his account of Tonquin, 
 thus speaks : " I come now to the political 
 description of this kingdom, under which I 
 comprehend the religion, which is almost 
 every where in concert with the civil go- 
 
 * Div, Leg. vol. i. p. 231. 
 
Sect, iv.l iOirclJicr ivilh Tohralion, m99 
 
 vernmeiit, for the mutual support of each ^ 
 other*." It must he noted, however, that , 
 all the cstablishmenis of paganism have far 
 more respect to rites and ceremonies, than 
 to points of truth, or of mere speculative 
 opinion. " It is to he observed," says the 
 author of the AlVumce, '' that unity in the 
 object of faith, and agreement to a formu- 
 lary of dogmatic theolog}^ as the terms of 
 communion, is the great foundation and 
 bond of a religious society. Now, in all 
 the pagan religions, there is only confor- 
 mity in national ceremonies; there being 
 no room for the object of faith, or a for- 
 mular}^ of dogmatic theology ; for as to mat- 
 ters of belief and opinion, it was not judged 
 of moment to determine whether their rads 
 were real persons, or only the symbols of 
 natural powers. Nor did their mysteries 
 consist so much in abstruse points of spe- 
 culation, as in secret practices-]-." The 
 above appears, on the Avhole, to be a just 
 account, and may show us the general pre- 
 
 * Alliance between Church and State, p. 1 1 3-14. 
 t Ibid. p. 173-4. 
 
200 All Establishment [Part ii. 
 
 valency of religious establishments in the 
 pagan as well as in the christian world, and 
 also one chief point in which they differed 
 from one another. 
 
 Nor was it less usual in pagan nations to I 
 tolerate other religions, than to establish | 
 their own. As it was a common principle j 
 among them, that all religions are good, they 
 were ready to receive any of them, upon 
 easy terms, within their respective territo- 
 ries ; nay, the same principle led them to 
 a general intercommunity of deities and 
 worship ; so that, upon occasion, they would 
 adopt a foreign god into their establishment, 
 in addition to those they had already. Thus 
 the emperor Tiberius is said to have proposed 
 to the senate, upon receiving the acts of 
 Pilate, to enrol CJirist in the number of the 
 Roman deities ; a proposition at that time 
 perfectly natural and agreeable to the Ro- 
 man custom *. But after they became a 
 little better acquainted with christianitj^, and 
 found it to be a religion which condemned. 
 
 * See Moshelm's Eccles. Hist. vol. i. p. 53, and the 
 authors there referred to. 
 
Sect. IV.] together witJi Toleration. 201 
 
 and would hold no fellowsliip with their 
 own, they began to hate and |)erbecute it 
 purely on that account; for it does not ap- 
 pear that, in the Ih'st instance, it was op- 
 posed as false, but as unsociable and exclu- 
 sive ; a charge which is not improbably sup- 
 posed to be intended by Tacitus, when he 
 savs, '* That the christians were condemned, 
 not so much for the burning of Rome (of 
 which they were accused) as for their hatred 
 to mankind in general*" Hence we may 
 learn to correct a notion propagated by 
 some modern infidels, namely, that pagan 
 toleration left all religions open and unre- 
 stricted ; whereas it was generally extended 
 only to such as were subservient, or at least 
 not adverse, to the religion established -f ; 
 and was so far from exceeding, (as is pre- 
 tended) that it fell short of what is practised 
 in manv christian countries, where rival re- 
 ligions, or, at least, rival forms of the same 
 religion, are in some degree authorised and 
 permitted. 
 
 * " Haud perinde in criminc incendii, quam odio hu- 
 man! generis convicti sunt." Tac. An. lib. xv. ch. 44. 
 t Div. Leg. vol. i. p. 268-9. 
 
202 A7i EntablisJtment [Part ii. 
 
 And here it may not be improper to in- 
 troduce a few testimonies, both of indivi- 
 duals and of public bodies among the Ro- 
 man catholics, who, of all those that have 
 borne the christian name, are known to 
 have been least favourable to toleration. * 
 " Remember,'' savs the cardinal Camus, 
 ^' that the maladies of the soul are not 
 cured by constraint and violence *" And 
 it is observed by Dlrois, a doctor of the 
 Sorhonne, " That to compel religion is to be 
 an enemy of truth \,'' Their famous eccle- 
 siastical historian, Tillemont, remarks, " That 
 persuasion is not wrought bj^ menaces, and 
 that violence can only produce hypocrites^." 
 The excellent Tliuanus, in the dedication 
 of his history to Henry the Fourth, has 
 manv admirable observations to the same 
 purpose : '* We are taught," says he, *' by 
 
 * " Souvenez vous que Ics raalades de Tame ne se 
 guerissent point par contralnte et par violence." 
 
 t ** L' exaction forcee d'une religion est une preuve 
 evidente que I'esprit qui la conduit est un esprit ennemi 
 de la verite." 
 
 X " La violence peut faire des hypocrites ; on ne per- 
 suade point quand on fait retentir partout les menaces." 
 
Sect, iv.] together icitli Toleration. 203 
 
 experience, that force is more likely to irri- 
 tate tlian to cure those evils whose seat is in 
 the mind *." To these testimonies of indi- 
 viduals, let me add one more from Montes" 
 quieu : " If heaven," says he, *' has sho^vn 
 you the truth, it has sho\Vn you a particular 
 favour ; but docs it therefore become you, 
 because you enjoy this heritage of your 
 father, to hate those who enjoy it not -)-:'* 
 Further, the French clergy, in the year 
 fifteen hundred and sixty, declared in a 
 body, " We have alwaj'S disapproved of 
 rigour in the cause of religion]:." And 
 again, in their address to Lewis the Thir- 
 teenth, they disavow '' all thoughts of de- 
 stroying errors by violence §." Lastly, in 
 
 * " L'exptrience nous apprcnd que la violence est 
 plus capable d'irriter que de guerir un mal qui a sa racine 
 dans I'esprit." 
 
 t " Si le ciel vous a assez aimc pour vous faire voir 
 la verite, il vous a fait une grande grace ; mais est-ce a 
 ceux qui ont riieritage de leur pere de hair ceux qui ne 
 Font pas ?'* 
 
 X " Nous avons toujours dcsaprouve les voyes de 
 
 rigeur.'* 
 
 § " Nous ne prctendons point detruirc les erreurs par 
 la violence." 
 
204 An Establishment [Partii. 
 
 agreement with these declarations of the 
 clergy, the parliament of Paris thus remon- 
 strate to Henry the Second: '* It has ap- 
 peared to us conformable to equity and 
 right reason, to tread in the steps of the 
 ancient church, which has never used vio- 
 lence to establish or extend her religion *." 
 After these testimonies, and others of a 
 similar nature, whose sincerity, at least in 
 some of the instances, is unquestionable, 
 Voltaire, from whom I have extracted them, 
 thus concludes : ''By what fatality can it 
 be, that we belie in our conduct a theory 
 which we proclaim every day with our lips? 
 When our practice contradicts our doctrine, 
 we must imaguie there is some advantage 
 in acting contrary to what we teach ; but 
 certainly it can never be to our advantage, 
 to persecute those who are not of our opi- 
 nion, and to draw upon us their hatred. I 
 must therefore again assert the absurdity of 
 
 * " II nous a paru conformc li Tequite et a la droite 
 raison, de marcher sur les traces de rancienne eglise, 
 qui n'a point use de violence pour ctablir et etendre la 
 religion." 
 
Sect, iv.] together icith Toleration, 205 
 
 intolerance*." All this is just, and may 
 be allowed in extenuation of that charge of 
 literary guilt which lies so heavy on the 
 name and memory of the hapless author. 
 
 From what has been advanced in this 
 and the two preceding sections, I think it 
 sufficiently appears, that whatever may be 
 the case of a toleration without an establishment, 
 an establishment without a toleration, is nei- 
 ther consistent with the true interest of reli- 
 gion, nor with the peace of society ; that 
 for the magistrate to interfere at all in reli- 
 gious matters is a point of extreme delicacy; 
 and that when he does interfere, it should 
 be his first care to do no harm, either by an 
 unnecessary abridgment of the liberties of 
 any class of citizens ; by his patronage of 
 
 t " Par quelle fatalite, par quelle inconsequence demen- 
 tirions-nous dans la pratique une theorie que nous an- 
 noncons tous les jours ? Quand nos actions dementent 
 notre morale, c'est que nous croyons qu'il y a quelque 
 avantage pour nous a faire le contri^irc de ce que nous 
 enscignons ; mais ccrtainement il n'y a aucun avantage 
 a persecuter ceux qui ne sont pas de notre avis, et a 
 nous en faire hair. II y a done, encor une fois, dc Tab- 
 surditc dans I'intolerance." 
 
 Traitc sur la Tolerance, ch. 15. 
 
206 An Establislunent [Part ii. 
 
 a false religion ; or by his endeavours to 
 promote the true one in ways that are not 
 agreeable to its spirit, and that might en- 
 danger the temporal as well as spiritual 
 welfare of the people. We have already 
 noted some of those furious wars that have 
 been kindled by rehgious persecution ; and 
 where it does not cause an open revolt, it 
 is sure to diffuse an angry ferment, and to 
 engender hypocrisy, which, by gradually 
 undermining principle, may prove more 
 destructive than the bitterest hostile conten- 
 tion. And so far as religion is made a tool 
 for political purposes, the same, or other 
 consequences no less mischievous, may be 
 expected to follow. 
 
 The great end of true religion is the sal- 
 vation of souls ; and all that men ought to 
 do in this respect, is to attend to those 
 means which this religion prescribes or war- 
 rants. What those means are, may be 
 learnt from the scriptures, especially of the 
 New Testament. Among them, we may 
 reckon the education of youth, the restrain- 
 ing of immorality, the discountenance of 
 idleness, the encouragement of honest in- 
 
Sect. IV.] together ivilh Toleration, 207 
 
 dnstry; and, above all, a provision of liiith- 
 fill men duly qualified for the ministry of 
 the gospel, in which is eminently displayed 
 the power of God unto salvation. That nation 
 where this provision is best made, and the 
 subordinate means best attended to, is un- 
 doubtedly in the happiest circumstances; 
 and whether this is done by the people or 
 the government, or by the co-operation of 
 both, is a circumstance of no material con- 
 sideration. 
 
 Whoever looks into the history of former 
 ages, and observes how much religion has 
 been obstructed and debased by tyrannic 
 and corrupt governments, he may see reason 
 ^to congratulate a people when they are left 
 to provide for themselves in their spiritual 
 concerns, at the single impulse of their own 
 consciences. Yet, considering the general 
 disregard of mankind to every thing that 
 relates to another world, he may see still 
 greater cause of congratulation, when, by 
 tlie special favour of heaven, a people is 
 l)lessed with trulv enlightened and christian 
 rulei-s, who are no less studious to promote 
 their religious advantac^es, than to establish 
 
208 A?i Establishmeiif, 8(c. [Part ii. 
 
 and perpetuate their just rights, and secure 
 their temporal welfare. We conclude, there- 
 fore, on the whole, that an establishment icitli 
 a toleration, especially wlien the toleration is 
 complete, is preferable to either of them sepa- 
 rately; inasmuch as it unites — "liberty of 
 conscience with means of instruction ; the 
 progress of truth with the peace of society ; 
 the right of private judgment with the care 
 of the public safety *." 
 
 * Paley's Mor. and Pol. Phil. vol. ii. p. 344. 
 
 I I 
 
Sect, v.] ( 209 ) 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 On the 77iost effectual Methods by tthlck an 
 established Church may support herself under 
 a complete Toleration. 
 
 The methods most adapted to the end 
 here proposed, appear, in my apprehen- 
 sion, to be the three following : 
 
 I. To provide the best means of spiritual 
 instruction and edification. 
 
 II. To advance no unjust claims of supe- 
 rior purity to other churches, either in point 
 of doctrine, worship, or discipline ; and 
 even when such claims are w^ell founded, 
 not to assert them with a disproportioned 
 or unhallowed zeal. 
 
 III. Not to narrow the terms of church 
 communion beyond the warrant of scrip- 
 ture. ^» 
 
 I. The church must provide the best 
 means of spiritual instruction and edifica- 
 
 p 
 

 
 210 Hoxv the Church may stand [Part ii. 
 
 tion ; among which the following I conceive 
 to be the most considerable. 
 
 1. Hei^ doctrine must be evangelical. She 
 must not teach repentance without faith, 
 pardon without atonement, nor morality 
 without grace. Christ must be exhibited 
 in virtue of his obedience unto death, as exalt- f 
 ed to be a saviour as well as a prince ; as 
 seated on a throne of grace and mercy, 
 dispensing the aids of his spirit and the bless- 
 ings of forgiveness, as well as on a throne i 
 of dominion issuing his laws and command- 
 ments. Again, the doctrine of repentance 
 must be thoroughly opened ; the false no- 
 tions concerning it, and that have always 
 prevailed in the world, must be detected ; 
 its true nature must be unfolded, and shown 
 to consist in nothing short of a moral revo- 
 lution, by which a man becomes so much 
 changed in his principles and views (and i] 
 not barely in his outward conduct) that, in 
 the language of scripture, he may properly 
 be denominated [itaD^vi %li(ng) a new creature, . 
 Further, in explaining the means by which " 
 this change is effected, it must be shown, . 
 that it is not educed from any powers of na- , 
 
 i 
 
Sect, v.] zvith complete Toleration, 211 
 
 ture ; that it neither originates from any prin- 
 ciples derived to us as the offspring of Adam ; 
 nor follows as a natural consequence, either 
 from our own exertions, or from the argu- 
 ments or persuasions of others ; that it is 
 not of blood, iwr of the will of the flesh, nor of 
 the ivill of man, but of God ; and must be 
 sought as a gift from the Saviour of the 
 world, who is no less the source of repent- 
 ance, than he is of pardon and of divine ac- 
 ceptance. Lastly, when the church instructs 
 her members in the duties and offices of 
 civil and social life, let her not forget to 
 connect them with those motives and con- 
 siderations peculiar to the gospel, besides 
 such as the gospel holds in common Avith 
 natural religion. A doctrine thus evangeli- 
 cal, when duly dispensed by men who are 
 truly interested in its success, can never fail 
 to attract both a numerous and a willing 
 audience. 
 
 But if the people be presented with no- 
 thing but a dry morality ; if they be pressed 
 with obligations, and have no adequate 
 direction how they may discharge them ; 
 if dutij be disunited from grace and pardon- 
 
 p 2 
 
\ 
 
 212 Iloti) the Church may stand [Part ii. ! 
 
 ing mercy, through the merits and sacrifice i 
 of Christ ; or our duties towards man from | 
 those we owe to God ; if reformation of 
 life be separated from renovation of heart t 
 or the doctrine of manners be substituted; 
 for the doctrine which is according to godliness:^ 
 in these cases, the people either will notj 
 listen, or listen with indifference or discou-ijl 
 ragement. The hungry sheep look np and are 
 not fed; and we cannot wonder, if they 
 betake themselves to other pastures, where 
 they find a more nutritious, or, at least, a 
 more relishing and agreeable aliment. 
 
 2. She must pay a proper attention to e/e-i 
 mentary and catechetical instruction. How 
 important it is to be well grounded in thei 
 elements of any art or science, and even 
 of any ordinary business or profession, every 
 one must be sensible; and it would b( 
 strange to suppose it less necessary in re 
 spect to the knowledge of God, and of ou] 
 moral and religious obligations. Yet, how 
 ever strange it may be, there are many in 
 these times who think, or at least whc 
 speak, and many more who act, as if reli 
 gion was the only thing which, withoui 
 
Sect, v.] zcuIl complete Toleration. 213 
 
 any care or culture of man, A\'ould grow 
 up of itselC or be ins[)ircd of heaven, in its 
 proper or appointed season. But the church, 
 if a true mother, has different thoughts, 
 and will deal otherwise with her children. 
 In dependance on divine aid and blessing, 
 she will take them betimes under her tuition ; 
 she will train them up from early childhood 
 in the discipline and admonition of ike Lord ; 
 she will ])ro])ortion herself, both in the mat- 
 ter and manner of her teaching, to the 
 measure of their capacity ; her matter will 
 be milk and not strong meat, the first and 
 simplest principles of divine truth, natural 
 or revealed, till they are ca])able of higher 
 discoveries ; and her manner will be familiar 
 and catechetical. 
 
 Without this introductory mode of teach- 
 ing, which is now fallen into so much neg- 
 lect, no church, I conceive, can be very 
 prosperous. It is a primary defect, which 
 afterwards cannot easily be supplied. Chil- 
 dren uncatechized may go for years toge- 
 ther to church or meeting, without any 
 sensible advance in religious knowledge or 
 improvement ; whereas, if prepared by 
 more familiar lessons, there are few sermons 
 
214 How the Church may stand [Part ii. [ 
 
 that would not yield them some profitable 
 instruction. And let me add, that cate- ; 
 chetical lectures are scarcely less proper for \ 
 some of a more advanced age, who, for j 
 
 I 
 
 want of elementary principles, are almost 
 equally unqualified to understand any regu- 
 lar and digested discourse on divine subjects; 
 nor are they improper for christians of any 
 age or standing, or require less ability in 
 the teacher. " In truth," says Bishop j 
 Hall, *' the most useful of all preaching is 
 catechetical." — '' For my part," he adds, 
 *' I have spent the greater half of my life 
 in this station of our holy service : T thank 
 God, not unpainfully nor unprofitably : but 
 there is no one thing of which I repent so 
 much, as not to have bestowed more hours 
 in this exercise of catechizing. In regard 
 whereof, I could quarrel with ni}^ very ser- 
 mons, and wish that a great part of them 
 had been exchanged for this preaching con- 
 ference ^y And Dr. Fuller, wel] known for 
 his church history, expresses his earnest de- 
 sire that, " The ancient and primitive ordi- 
 nance of catechizing might be restored." — 
 
 * Epist. Dedic. to his discourse on The Old Rdigioii, 
 
Sect, v.] xcltJi complete Toleration, 215 
 
 "Every youth," he observes, "can preach, 
 but he must be a man indeed, who can profit- 
 ably catechize^/* It is evidently implied, 
 however, in these passages, that the catechist 
 does not confine himself to the bare questiom 
 and answers drawn up in any fixed formula, 
 but varies, explains, amplifies, and inter- 
 rogates as he finds occasion ; and when this 
 is done discreetly, and w ith a true pastoral 
 love and condescension, it must be allowed 
 that no mode of teaching carries either 
 more light or impression. 
 
 The primitive church (as all know who 
 have the least acquaintance with ecclesiasti- 
 cal antiquity) was particularly attentive to 
 this preliminary part of her charge. Those 
 who Avere candidates for her communion, 
 were first taught privately at home, by per- 
 sons deputed by the bishop ; and it was not 
 before they were sufficiently instructed in 
 the primary and simplest principles of Chris- 
 tianity, that they were admitted to some 
 parts of the public worship of the church ; 
 particularly to such sermons as were adapted 
 
 * Mixt contempt, sect. 49. 
 
216 How the Church viay stand [Part ii. 
 
 to their present capacity, and meant to pre- 
 pare them for a nearer union with the faith- 
 ful. For none, in those purer times, were 
 admitted to the higher forms of Christianity, 
 til] they had passed the inferior with appro- 
 bation *. ** It was the wicked policy of 
 heretics," says Tertullian, '' to make no dif- 
 ference between the catechumen and the con- 
 firmed believer f/' It is true, that what is 
 here said referred to converts, and conse- 
 quently to adults, from among the heathens; 
 but it shows the extreme caution then used 
 by the church in receiving members to full 
 communion. And are there no adults in 
 christian countries who are little better than 
 heathens? None w^ho are grown up to every 
 other kind of knowledge and accomplish- 
 ments, and yet who need to be taught the first 
 principles of the oracles of God; and to whom 
 the church ought to assign the place of cate- 
 cJiumens ? unless, in the present relaxed state 
 of discipline, she thought it more prudent to 
 
 * See Cave's Primitive Christianity, part i. p. 215-17 : 
 and Sir Peter King's Constitution of the Prim. Church, 
 parti, p. 100-3. 
 
 + *' Quis catechumenus, quis fideh'o, incertum est j 
 pariter audiunt, pariter orant." Tertul. de prcescript. 
 
Sect, v.] icitJi coinpletc Toleration. 217 
 
 teach them indirectly their christian ele- 
 nients, through the medium of her particu- 
 lar addresses to children in the public con- 
 
 gregation. 
 
 From what causes the part of religious 
 instruction of which we have been speaking, 
 has fallen into such general disuse, it may not 
 be unnecessary for those to inquire, whose 
 peculiar office it is to apply a remedj". It 
 may deserve their consideration, whether 
 our present catechisms are sufficiently ac- 
 commodated, either in matter or mannei; 
 to the capacities of children. He who shall 
 look into the Assemblies' Catechism, generally 
 used in Scotland, or into that of our own 
 church, will hardly rank them under this 
 description; and after all the attempts that 
 have been since made to supply this defi- 
 ciency, a catechism for children, I apprehend, 
 still remains a desideratum, wdiich, whoever 
 shall furnish, will thereby do religion a more 
 essential service, than she would receive 
 fi'om works that are held in much greater 
 estimation. And were other catechetical 
 forms drawn up, adapted in like manner to 
 the several stages of youth, and pro[)ortion- 
 ed to the gradual opening of the understand- 
 
218 How the Church may stand [Part ii. 
 
 ing, they would doubtless be attended with 
 many special advantages. 
 
 3. Her general discourses from the pulpit, 
 must rather be plain and e:vposit07y, than carious 
 or polemical, or confined to single and insulated 
 texts of scripture. The bulk of most con- 
 gregations is composed of the poor and the 
 unlearned, to whom a sermon must be 
 plain, both in its matter and expression, to 
 be intelhgible ; it must neither be perplexed 
 with subtleties, embarrassed with learning, 
 nor clouded with rhetoric. What consti- 
 tutes the chief matter of a truly evangelical 
 ministry, maj^ be learnt from the apostle 
 Paul's address to the elders of the church 
 of Ephesus, in which he tells them, that 
 " he had kept back nothing that xvas profitable 
 for them ; that he had taught them publicly, 
 and from house to house ; testifying both to 
 Jews and Greeks, repentance towards God, and 
 faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ ;'' observ- 
 ing, in conclusion, that he had not shamed to 
 declare unto them all the counsel of God^,'' 
 Which shows, that the standing subject of 
 his teaching amongst them, consisted of no 
 
 * Acts XX. 20, 21, and 27. 
 
Sect, v.] tvitJi complete Toleration. !219 
 
 abstruse or curious speculations, but of the 
 two great fundamental doctrines of the gos- 
 pel, repentance and tiiith. And in what lan- 
 guage the church ought to speak to her 
 children, she may also collect from the 
 example of the same apostle, who, in de- 
 claring the testimony of God, came not with 
 excellency of speech, — not with enticing tvords 
 of mans wisdom, hut in demonstration of tJie 
 spirit y — not with xvisdom of words, lest the cross of 
 Christ should he made of none effect^. In which 
 passages, though no one will suppose that 
 any exclusion was intended of that simple 
 and pathetic eloquence, of which the apos- 
 tle himself was so great a master, there is 
 certainly contained a strong censure of those 
 pedantic or declamatory harangues, which 
 are so often admired, and so little felt or 
 understood. 
 
 Again : Were the church oftener to use 
 familiar expositions, attended with suitable 
 applications, of larger portions of scripture, 
 instead of regular sermons upon single 
 texts; it might be more conducive to gene- 
 
 * 
 
 1 Cor. i. 17, and ii. 1-4. 
 
220 How the Church may stand [Part ii. 
 
 ral instruction and edification. The little 
 capacity of the bulk of the common people, 
 to comprehend a long and digested discourse 
 upon any subject, is scarcely credible to 
 those who have not attended to it. Exact- 
 ness of method, or a train of argument, is 
 lost upon them ; and all that they will be 
 found to retain of an address thus construct- 
 ed, will be a few simple or pointed observa- 
 tions, which they would have received more 
 easily, and with better effect, had they been 
 delivered in a more familiar way ; besides 
 that, by the expository method, a greater 
 proportion of divine truth is brought under 
 consideration, and with more of that power- 
 ful simplicity in which it is presented in 
 scripture. Hence we may infer, the gene- 
 ral superiority of scriptural and practical 
 expositions, at least to ordinary congrega- 
 tions, whatever ma}^ be alleged in favour 
 of sermons, or discourses from a single text, 
 before some auditories, and on particular 
 occasions. Nor do I recollect in the whole 
 Bible a single instance of a discourse formed 
 after the same model with that of our pre- 
 sent sermons; and it is certain, that the 
 
Sect, v.] tvith complete Toleration. 221 
 
 expository mode of preaching was by far 
 the most prevalent, during the first and 
 best ages of the christian church. Justin 
 Martyr, near the close of his Apology , in- 
 forms us, that '* on the day, called Sunday, 
 all that lived either in city or country, met 
 together at the same place, vrhere the writ- 
 ings of the apostles and prophets were read; 
 that when this was done, the bishop deli- 
 vered a discourse, in which he instructed 
 the people, and animated them to the prac- 
 tice of what they had heard.*' Upon this 
 passage Dr. Cave observes, that " Sermons 
 in those times were nothing else but expo- 
 sitions of some part of the scriptures which 
 had been read before, and exhortations to 
 the people to obey the doctrine contained 
 in them; and commonly were upon the 
 lesson which was last read, because that 
 being freshest in the people's memory, was 
 most proper to be treated of, as St. Austin 
 both avers the custom, and gives the rea- 
 son*." Origen, Chrysostom, diuA Austin were 
 highly distinguished for their expositions ; and 
 
 * Prim. Christ, part i. p. 278. 
 
222 How the Church may stand [Part ii. 
 
 since the reformation, many eminent pro- 
 testants have laudably copied their example. 
 As an additional authority for what I have 
 advanced under this and the preceding 
 head, concerning catechising, I shall subjoin 
 the following passage from Bishop Burnet, 
 in which he advises the clergy, " To cate- 
 chize the youth much at church, not only 
 asking the questions and hearing the answers, 
 but joining to that, the explaining the terms 
 in other Avords, and by turning to the Bible 
 for such passages as prove or enlarge on 
 them; the doing this constantly (he ob- 
 serves) would infuse into the next age a 
 higher measure of knowledge than the pre- 
 sent is like to be blessed with." To which 
 he adds : *' Long sermons, in which points 
 of divinity or morality are regularly handled, 
 are above the capacity of the people; short 
 and plain ones upon large portions of scrip- 
 ture, would be better hearkened to, and 
 have a much better effect; they would 
 make the hearers understand and love the 
 scriptures more*." No one will suppose, 
 
 " Conclusion of the History of his own Times. 
 
Sect, v.] :cltJi complete Toleration. 223 
 
 that what has been said upon the utility of 
 expositions is meant to exckide a frequent 
 simple reading of the scriptures, which, if 
 done with seriousness and propriety, may 
 often prove both more instructive and edi- 
 fvinc^, than if attended with the best human 
 comment or appHcation. 
 
 4. AiiotJier object of great importance to the 
 prosperity of the cJiurch, is the due regnlaiion 
 of her public prayer and psalmody. The 
 Jewish temple is by Isaiah, and after him, 
 by our Saviour, eminently styled the house 
 of prayer; and w^e cannot suppose that 
 christian churches ought to be less answer- 
 able to the same title. It must therefore be 
 regarded as a strong symptom of public 
 declension among christians, when prayer 
 constitutes but a small part of their religious 
 worship, or is performed in a cold or neg- 
 ligent manner. The case was very different 
 during that happy period in which the 
 church retained a considerable degree of 
 her primitive purity ; the prayers then of- 
 fered up in her assemblies were both copious 
 and fer\'ent, de pectore sine monitore, (from 
 the heart without a monitor) as Tertullian 
 
224 Hoxv the Church may stand [Part ii. 
 
 speaks * ; or according to Justin Martyr, 
 oa-Tj ^vvafj^ig, (to the Utmost degree of ability -fj, 
 " When we come to the public worship of 
 God," says the former of these apologists, 
 *^ we come in as formidable array, as if we 
 meant to storm heaven by our prayers, and 
 such violence is most grateful to the Almigh- 
 ty ^/' All this was performed, either stand- 
 ing erect, with uplifted eyes, and hands 
 stretched out towards heaven, or humbly 
 upon their knees ; but never in that sitti}?g 
 posture, by which many in these times ex- [ 
 press more of irreverence than of devotion. 
 
 Nor were the primitive christians less 
 distinguished for their hymns and spiritual 
 songs, than for the supplicatory part of their 
 devotion. The passage in Pliny is well 
 known, where he acquaints the emperor 
 Trajan with their custom of assembling be- 
 fore day-break, to sing together a hymn to 
 Christ as God§. And there is abundant 
 
 * Apol. c. 30. t Apol. 87. 
 
 X ** Coimus in caetum et congregationem, ut ad Deum, 
 quasi manu facta, precationibus ambiamus orantes. 
 Hsec vis Deo grata est." Jpol. c. 39. 
 
 § " Soliti stato die ante lucem convenire, carmenque ! 
 
Sect, v.] tvltJi complete Toleration. 225 
 
 evidence from ecclesiastical history, that 
 sinsrin<r had a larc^e share in the common 
 service of the chinxh at that period ; the 
 clerk or precentor was not left to sing alone, 
 bnt the Avhole congregation, like the bands 
 of angels described in Milton, 
 
 ** Responsive*, or in full harmonic choir/* 
 
 United in thanksgivings and praises to their 
 Creator and Redeemer. Thus were the 
 devotions of tlie church warmed and ele- 
 vated, and her numbers multiplied; for 
 there is scarce any thing more attractive of 
 an audience than an animated performance 
 of this part of divine worship. And here 
 jnight it not be inquired, whether it is not 
 this, amons: other causes, that draws away 
 multitudes to the meetings of separatists 
 
 Christo, quasi Deo, dicere secum invicem." Lib. x. 
 Ep. 97. 
 
 - What Pliny says of the christians, that they were 
 used to sing secuvi invicenh some have interpreted^ 
 altcriiatdy or in responses, which was undoubtedly a 
 custom early introduced into the church. The passage 
 referred to in Millon, is here varied and accommodated 
 to the occasion. 
 
226 How the Church may stand [Part it. ^ 
 
 from our national church at this day ; and \ 
 whether it does not deniand her most zea- [ 
 lous endeavour, by every proper method, 
 and especially by cherishing a spirit of true \ 
 devotion, to throw more life into her psal- \ 
 mody, as into every other part of her pub- j 
 lie service ? 
 
 5. Further: The prosperity of the church 
 depends, in no small degree, on a proper \ 
 exercise of discipline : by which is not to 
 be understood any compulsory methods; 
 for such are alien from the very nature ^ 
 of religion, which, as TertulUan of old ob- ^ 
 served, '* is a thing to be embraced volun- 
 tarily, and not enforced by outward vio- \ 
 tence*/' The arms of the church are \ 
 spiritual ; admonition, suspension, or, in the ^ 
 last resort, excommunication, are her wea- ' 
 pons ; and in their due exercise consists that ; 
 discipline, without which, no church can 
 long retain either her purity or peace. The 
 holy and profane, the clean and unclean^ 
 are incapable of a lasting and amicable con- 
 
 * " Nee religlonis est cogere religionem, quse spouts 
 suscipi debeat, non vi." Tert. ad Scapulam. 
 
Sect, v.] ivlth complete Toleration, 227 
 
 junction ; either the one will bring over, or 
 expel the other; or they must continue 
 together in a state of perpetual contention. 
 Some leaven of depravity, and some seeds 
 of discord will indeed be found in the most 
 perfect society in this world, which shows, 
 that in ecclesiastical, as in all other govern- 
 ments, what cannot be prevented or reme- 
 died, must be endured ; lest, as our Saviour 
 speaks, by endeavouring to pluck up the 
 tares, the zvJieat also should be destroyed : but 
 this is no argument for a tolerance Avithout 
 all exception or limitation, which would 
 seem to be equally inconsistent with that 
 article of our creed in which we profess to 
 believe the holy catholic church ; with the 
 general tenor of the New Testament ; and 
 with the following passage in particular : " / 
 xcrote to you,' says St. Paul to the Corinthi- 
 ans, *' not to company icUJi fornicators. Yet 
 not altogether xcitli fornicators of this world, or 
 with the covetous, or extortioners, or with idola- 
 ters ; for then must ye needs go out of the world. 
 But now I have xvritten unto you, not to keep 
 company, if any man that is called a brother be 
 a fornicator, or covetous, or an idolater, or a 
 
 q2 
 
228 Hold the Church may stand [Part ii. 1 
 
 railer, or a drunkard, or an extortioner^ ivithl 
 such an one, no not to eat. For ivhat have l\ 
 to do to judge them also that are zvithout ? do i 
 not yc judge them that are within^?'' This j 
 apostolic regulation appears to have been 
 observed with a degree of strictness, ap- 
 proaching to severity, for some succeeding [ 
 ages. Cyprian, who lived in the third cen- 
 turj^ informs us, that not only ^flagitioiis sijis' 
 ( gravissima et cxtrema delicta) but also others 
 of less aggravation (minora delicta) were [ 
 subjected to the censures of the church f . ; 
 Some offenders were left for two, four, ten, \ 
 
 ■ i 
 
 * 1 Cor. V. 9-13. ^ 
 
 t Sir Peter King^ in his Enquiry into the Constltu- 
 iion, S(e. of the Prindtive Cliurch, to the question, Fo-f \ 
 what faults were offenders censured? answers, ^' For 
 schism, heresy, covetousness, gluttony, fornication, 
 adultery, and for all other sins whatsoever, none ex- ? 
 ceptcd ;'* and in proof, cites Origen, Cyprian, and 
 £iisebius ; ** Nay,** says he, *' the holy and good men \ 
 of those days were so zealous against sin, that they ' 
 used the strictest severities against the least appearances 
 of it ; not indulging or sparing the least branch of its 
 pestiferous production, but smartly punishing the least 
 sprout of it, its lesser acts, as well as those that were 1 
 more scandalous and notorious.'" Part i. p. 111. 
 
 I 
 
Sect, v.] with co7nplcie Toleration, 229 
 
 or twenty years in a state of penitence; 
 anil before thev were restored to their for- 
 nier privileges, it was usual for them to at- 
 tend at the door of the sanctuary, and there, 
 (ipon their knees, to entreat the prayers 
 of the faithful, with every mark of sorrow 
 and contrition. Thus careful were the first 
 ciu'istians to vindicate the purity and honour 
 of their profession, and, as Origen expresses 
 it, to retain none hut persons of xvisdom and 
 eobrietf/ in the bonds of their communion *. 
 
 I shall close this topic, by observing\ 
 nearly in the words of a grave and learned 
 divine, when treating on the same subject : 
 That nothing now remains but to admire 
 and imitate the piety and integrity of the 
 first ages of the christian church ; their ha- 
 tred of sin ; their care and zeal, by means 
 of a holy discij:)line, to maintain that strict- 
 ness and purity of manners, which had ren- 
 dered their religion so renowned and tri- 
 umphant ; a discipline, whose loss has long 
 
 fix'j cc^^uv ye'j£G'h:ii to'j <7'jX?^oyov -/^awv. Contr. Ccls. 
 lib, iii. 
 
230 IIoxv the Church may stand [Part ii. 
 
 been felt by the christian world, and which 
 our own church in particular both acknow- 
 ledges and laments. In the primitive churchy \ 
 says the preface to the Commination, there 
 was a godly discipline^ that at the beginning of{ 
 Lenty such persons as stood convicted of notorious '; 
 siiif xvere put to open periance, and punished in 
 this world, that their souls inight be saved in the 
 day of the Lord ; and that others, admojiished i 
 by their example, might b^ the more afraid to I 
 offeyid ; which discipline it is much to be wished'' 
 viight again be restored*. • \ 
 
 6. After the church has attended to her' 
 doctrine, and to her mode of instruction, . 
 worship, and discipline ; her work w^ill stilll 
 remain imperfect, without a provision of 
 fit men to carry her plans into execution.. 
 What is necessary to constitute this fitness,. 
 I shall touch in a few particulars. | 
 
 First, they must be s:ood men. The ob-^ 
 servation of Sluintilian, that to be an orator: 
 it is necessary to be a good man f, is more ; 
 clearly applicable to a minister of the gos- 
 
 "^ See Cave's Prim. Chris, part iii. at the cIos?« 
 ^ Quinlil. inst. lib. xii. cap. I. 
 
 y 
 
Sect, v.] xcitJi amipkte Tolaationi 231 
 
 pel ; to a due discharge of whose oflice, a 
 sanctity of character is an indispensable 
 qualification. I do not say, that the want 
 of this qualification would invalidate all his 
 ministrations, or nullify the efficacy of the 
 chi'istian sacraments; I must say, however, 
 what I think none will deny, that it Avould 
 be sure to weaken, if not«ntirel\^ to destroy, 
 the good effect of his personal addresses, 
 w liether public or private. There is usually 
 a chilling and deadening spirit which attends 
 the best instructions, and the most seraphic 
 sentiments, from unhallowed lips; as, on 
 the other hand, the ordinary discourse, and 
 even the silence, of a truly good man, will 
 shed around him a secret and salutary in- 
 fluence. To insist further on so obvious a 
 point would be superfluous; every one is 
 sensible, that the eftect of good counsel de- 
 pends in a great measure on his character 
 who gives it ; that, from a bad man it com- 
 monly meets with little or no regard ; whilst, 
 from one of an opposite character, and of 
 whose wisdom and sincerity we are persuad- 
 ed, it seldom fails to produce a happy corres- 
 pondent impression. 
 
232 How the CInircJi may stand [Part ii. 
 
 Secondly : To piety must be added zeal 
 iind warmth of address. It is not enough to 
 employ a bare exposition of sound doctrine, 
 accompanied with a gentle expostulation ; 
 something more animated is necessary to 
 attract and fix the general attention. Men 
 must be carried beyond a cold approbation; 
 they must be made to feel what they are 
 taught ; th^y must have heat together with 
 light; and if the church supply not the for- 
 mer as well as the latter, they will seek it 
 elsewhere. They will resort to the meeting 
 or the conventicle, where the fervency of 
 the preacher kindles a similar ardour in 
 their own bosoms; and where they find 
 themselves generally engaged, and often, 
 as we may hope, edified. And should the 
 orthodox established pastor be offended or 
 grieved at such a preference, the remedy 
 lies open before him ; let him add propor- 
 tionable zeal and earnestness to his other 
 good qualities, and then he will have no 
 cause to apprehend any inconvenience on 
 the score of competition. 
 
 Thirdly : To piety and zeal must be joined 
 ability, 1 have put this in the thii'd ph^ce, 
 
Sect, v.] icilJi coDiplcic Toleration. 233 
 
 beca:iise, in the ministerial office, the two 
 former, with a moderate share of the last, 
 may be of raod seiTice ; wliereas, the most 
 
 ft c^ ' ' 
 
 eminent abihty withont zeal, will, in i^^ene- 
 ' ral, do little; and, without piety, v. ill do 
 nothing. As a princijml it is of small value; 
 as an auxHiari/y it may be of great and im- 
 portant use. It may serve to correct the 
 prejudices of some, who consider religion 
 as nothin^: more than a fruit of iG^norance or 
 hypocrisy; it may command respect and 
 attention, and procure for truth an audience, 
 W'hich it would not otherwise obtain ; it 
 may repel those cavils and objections, which 
 might be an overmatch for a less-instructed 
 piety, and thus prove a defence to the com- 
 mon faith. But the use of ministerial abi- 
 lity which I have here chiefly in view, is to 
 apply the general doctrines of religion to 
 the particular state and circumstances of a 
 congregation, or of individuals; to draw 
 them down to cases of conscience ; and brinn' 
 them home to men's business and bosoms. 
 Without this skill, a preacher may indeed 
 exhort well, and stir up his hearers to the 
 inquiry. What shall xvc do ? but he will not 
 
234 Ilmo iht Church viay stand [Part ir. 
 
 soundly resolve the question. '* 'Tis an easy 
 thing/' says Lord Bacon, ** to call out for 
 the observance of the sabbath, or to speak 
 against unlawful gain ; but what actions and 
 works may be done upon the sabbath, what 
 not ; and what courses of gain are lawful, 
 and in what cases; to set this down, and to 
 clear the whole matter, with good distinc- 
 tions and decisions, is a work of great know* 
 ledge and labour, that requires much medi- 
 tation, conversing with the scriptures, and 
 other helps, which God has provided and 
 preserved for instruction *.'* 
 
 Lastly : to the office of a public teacher 
 must be added that of a pastor, ^vho is dili- 
 gent toknotiJ tJiestateof liisjlock; who, instant 
 in season and out of season, not only ministers 
 to the congregation, but from house to house; 
 enters into familiar converse with indivi- 
 duals; inquires into their religious circum- 
 stances, their wants, and dangers; and af- 
 fords them that appropriate counsel, reproof, 
 or encouragement, of which they stand in 
 need. In a word, lie xvatches for their souls 
 
 . * Bacon s Works, by Shaw, vol. ii. p. 304. 
 
Sect, v.] tvlth compktt Toleration, 2.i.> 
 
 as one icho must give aecount * ; and to facili- 
 tate the course of his spiritual labours, and 
 promote their great end, endeavours, by 
 every means in his power, to minister relief 
 to their temporal necessities, and thus to 
 give them an intelligible proof of his sincere 
 regard for their welfare. A shepherd who 
 in this manner cares for the sheep, w^ill pro- 
 bably have seldom cause to complain, eitlier 
 that they desert his fold, or stray into 
 other pastures. 
 
 II. The next rule to be observed by the 
 church, in order to support herself under a 
 complete toleration, is. Not forxcardly to set 
 vp any claims of superior purity or authority to 
 other churches, either in respect of doctriiie, 
 zcorship, government, or discipline; and to 
 maintain none after tJiey have been proved to he 
 cither unjust or dubious ; nor, lastly, to assert 
 even those tJiat arc the most indisputably just and 
 well founded, xvith a dispro portioned or imhal- 
 lowed zeal. 
 
 1. There are few things which men are 
 
 * Heb. xiii. 17. 
 
236 How tJie Church mai/ stand [Part ii, 
 
 generally more disposed to resist than pre- 
 tensions and claims of superiority. That 
 pre-eminence in which they would acquiesce, 
 or, at least, \vhich they would silently suf- 
 ier, if unobtrusive ; they will be forward to 
 oppose, when it comes with a demand of 
 formal acknowledgment. Ambitious men, 
 who know the world, are aware of this ; 
 they have therefore no pretensions, and 
 forbear an}^ display of their advantages 
 whether natural or acquired, w^hich might 
 excite the envy or wound the vanity of 
 others. And what these do merely from 
 worldly policy, good and wise men will do 
 from motives of christian prudence and cha- 
 rity; and particularly when rivals or com- 
 petitors are in question, by whom any lofty 
 airs or challenges are soonest felt, and most 
 promptly resented. 
 
 2. The same considerations may be ex- 
 tended to comnumities, whether civil or 
 religious, and especially to the latter. There 
 have been ages when the most extravagant 
 claims of the church have been admitted, 
 and her most despotic mandates obeyed, 
 without inquiry or demur. Those ages are 
 
S£cT. v.] zvitli complete Toicration, 237 
 
 past. Tlic ])ope no longer thunders from 
 the Vatican, and awes the world into suh- 
 mission. The decrees ofthe most celebrated 
 councils are not known, or not considered ; 
 and the most legitimate authorities are treats 
 ed with little respect. In this state of gene- 
 ral opinion, and without the most pressing 
 necessity, it would seem extremely unwise 
 and impolitic for the church either to revive 
 old or advance new pretensions, which she 
 •mii^'ht know certainly beforehand would sel- 
 dom be attended to, and which she has no 
 power to enforce. 
 
 3. It may further be observed, that, in 
 the first instance, a general presumption lies 
 as^ainst all extraordinary claims; and, on 
 this account, that the opposition Avhich i^^ 
 commonly made to them (though previous 
 to examination) is not absolutely unreason- 
 able. They are marks by which the weakest 
 persons, as well as the weakest causes, are 
 particularly distinguished. In this kind of 
 competition, the empiric, the pedant, and 
 the sophist, will far outstrip the skilful phy- 
 sician, the able scholar, and the profound 
 philosopher. The same observation is aj>- 
 
238 IIow the CImrch may stand [Part ii. 
 
 plicable to bodies of men, ecclesiastical as 
 well as civil. Hence, the high claims of the 
 Romish church afford the protestants one 
 of their most legitimate presumptions against 
 her. From her claim of right to an abso- 
 lute dictatorial authority, Ave presume the 
 contrarj^ ; from her claim to apostolic pu- 
 rity in her faith, worship, government, and 
 discipline,, we presume upon her corruption 
 in each ; from her denial of salvation to 
 those who are without her pale, we presume 
 it to be peculiarly hazardous to be found 
 within it. Thus bv her ambitious or fana- 
 tical endeavours to exalt herself above other 
 churches, she supplies them, and her adver- 
 saries in general, with a forcible plea against 
 lierself. 
 
 4. lL'A^\\y , pretensions provoke inqidry. This 
 is the case with pretenders in the ordinary 
 course of the world ; many will put them 
 to the proof; and if they cannot make good 
 their vaunting, they must be content to 
 suffer the disgrace arising from ignorance 
 or presumption. The like happens in reli- 
 gion, both in respect to individuals and to 
 societies. A church, by challenging supe- 
 
Sect, v.] icUJt conipUie Tolcratkm. ^59 
 
 riority to other churches, naturallv awaken;* 
 tlieir jealousv^, and incites them to a narrow 
 and rigorous scrntiny into the grounds of 
 such a preference ; and if these be found 
 doubtiul 01' insufficient, some of the follow- 
 ing consequences will l>e likely to ensue : 
 either the claimant church will retract, wdiich 
 is rarely to be expected in such a case, and 
 might produce a triumph on the other side ; 
 or she w^ill continue to assert her preten- 
 sions, notwithstanding all that is alleged 
 against them ; which would not only sink her 
 credit still more with the other churches, and 
 further increase their estrangement and op- 
 position, but might also lessen her interest 
 with that numerous division of the public 
 w^ho are merely lookers-on ; as such persons 
 are commonly disposed to favour the w^eaker, 
 especially if it be, at the same time, the 
 injured party. And perhaps in the opinion 
 of the more inquisitive and learned, who 
 bring both the parties to a trial before the 
 tribunal of scripture and primitive antiquity, 
 they might equally suffer a degradation. 
 To which might be added, the scandal oc- 
 casioned by such contentions, and the irre- 
 
240 How tJic Church may stand [Part ir. 
 
 Terence thev are sure to breed in man\^ 
 persons towards religion in general. 
 
 We now proceed to a few remarks on the 
 latter part of the rule here laid down ; 
 namelv. That the churdi should forbear to 
 assert her pretcnsmis, h(ncever just dnd zcell- 
 founded thej/ may he, Kith, a disproportionate 
 or an unJialloiced zeaL 
 
 1. It often happens to the church, as to 
 other societies, that her pretensions are not 
 so nuich resisted because they are absolutely 
 unjust, as because more stress is laid upon 
 them than thev deserve. Where this undue 
 estimation is perceived, it creates a preju- 
 dice against the pretensions themselves, or 
 strengthens that which previously existed. 
 Suppose a church to give a de*cided prefer- 
 ence to episcopal government, not consider- 
 ing it as absolutely essential to her being, 
 but as conducive to her well-being ; not as 
 indispensablj^ necessary, but expedient ; and 
 this chiefly in respect to her own edifica- 
 tion, witliout any positive determination as 
 to other churches; it is almost impossible, 
 that a preference thus qualified should occa- 
 sion any contest or animosity. But if she 
 
Sect, v.] uilk compkie Toleration. 241 
 
 assert such a goveniinent to be of divine 
 right, and set up a claim which nullifies the 
 sacraments and administrations of other 
 churches, she must expect to encounter the 
 most violent oi)position. On the other 
 hand, should a church, on account of the 
 parity of Jier ministers, exalt herself above 
 other churches, and look down oa the epis- 
 copal order, in its most primitive state, as 
 something popish and anti-christian ; she 
 could hardly tail, by such an extravagance, 
 to diminish her credit with all impartial 
 I)ystanders. Again : For a church to pre- 
 fer hei- own form of prayer, to the fbrms or 
 extempore prayer of other churches, is na- 
 tural and allowable ; and provided she have 
 the prudence not to extol it as the only ac- 
 ceptable, or the most perfect mode of wor- 
 ship, it may pass without obloquy or dis- 
 cord. And, lastly, to specify one instance 
 more : Wlien a church, to the due observa- 
 tion of the Lord's day, adds other days in 
 connnemoration of the first propagators of 
 cliristianity, or of its principal events, and 
 considers this as an advantage which gives 
 her a superiority over those churches that 
 
 R 
 
242 Hoxv the Church may stand [Part ii. 
 
 neglect to use it, she will probably be ex- 
 posed to no censure on this account from 
 her worst enemies, or, at least, she will 
 have no cause to fear it ; provided she is 
 careful to improve such observances to their 
 proper ends, and not to over-rate them. 
 
 2. In the second place, the church must 
 be careful to avoid an unliallowed, no less 
 than a disproportionate zeal. She must 
 learn to speak the truth in love, and to recom- 
 mend her pretensions by the temperate and 
 candid manner in which they are proposed. 
 The best cause, when an angry vehemence, 
 or the infusion of any other ill temper, min- 
 gles in its defence, suffers an odium, which ^ 
 the most powerful arguments are not always 
 able to remove ; and when the cause thus g 
 defended involves superior claims, which, j 
 in the first instance, as we have seen, natu- 
 rally raise opposition, the prejudice excited i|^ 
 against it may then become absolutely in- 
 vincible. It therefore highly concerns every ; 
 church that has pretensions, be they ever so) 
 solid and important, if she wish to draw 
 strangers within her own pale, and to live] 
 peaceably with the rest, to be mild andil 
 
Sect, v.] tvitJi complete Toleration, 243 
 
 conciliating in her manner; she must not 
 strive, but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, 
 patient, in meekness instructing those that oppose 
 tliemselves, if God peradventure will give them 
 repentance to the acknoxvledging of the truth *. 
 
 III. The last rule we have stated as neces- 
 sarj% in the present case, to be observed by 
 the church, is. To prescribe reasonable terjjis 
 both of clerical and lay communion. 
 
 Under this head we shall first offer a few 
 remarks on clerical subscription. 
 
 1. A perfect coincidence of opinion be- 
 tween only two persons, upon any one 
 topic, should it be a little out of the com- 
 mon road, is rare ; but in respect of those 
 various articles which compose the creed of 
 any particular church, is morally impossible. 
 f\ll that can be expected, in this case, is an 
 ipproximation ; so as to be substantially 
 
 igreed in things necessary, to exercise for- 
 )earance in the rest, and charity in all ; or 
 o make such approaches to each other 
 s may afford a sufficient ground for mutual 
 
 * 2 Tim, ii. 24-5. 
 
 r2 
 
R 
 
 244 How the Cliurdt may stand [Part ii. 
 
 peace and edification ; since, after all that 
 can be done, shades of difference will still 
 remain, which can only be fully dissipated I 
 in that world of lights ivliere ive shall know ! 
 even as ive are knoivn. 
 
 To require therefore a complete unity ofi 
 sentiment in all the members of a church, i 
 is nugatory ; and to pretend it is fallacious; 
 To draw up a number of articles, some of 
 them upon the most abstruse points in divi- 
 nity, with a declared design to preveni 
 diversity of opinion, and to establish conj 
 sent touching true religion, is the mos; 
 Utopian of all projects ; if such a declara 
 tion be meant so rigorously as to exclud/j 
 the least variety of apprehension. Far les 
 extravagant was the fancy of the empero 
 Charles the Fifth, when he proposed ti^^ 
 bring a multitude of clocks and watches t| 
 keep exact time with one another. To hav fci 
 brought these machines so near to perfe 
 tion as to answer all the useful purposes \w!\ 
 life, would have been laudable ; an attemfA. 
 to bring them nearer was a point of vaicfc^j 
 and fruitless curiosity. Jn like manner ijjajso] 
 establish such a degree of co?isent touchirfl''"'"^ 
 
 Ifll 
 

 Sect, v.] tilth complete Toleration, ^^zi5 ' Ir) 
 
 true religion as is necessary to present pea^er^ 
 and final salvation, is an object of much 
 importance, and Ave hope not totally im- 
 practicable; more than this may justly be 
 considered as neither practicable, nor, if 
 attained, of any G:reat moment or advan- 
 tage *. 
 
 2. Hence it may appear, that all which 
 can reasonably be proposed by such a for- 
 mulary of doctrine as we have above de- 
 scribed, is, not absolutely to preclude every 
 diversity of opinion, which, as we have ob- 
 served, is impossible, but to confine this 
 diversity within certain limits; not to fix 
 one precise and indivisible sense to the arti- 
 
 * " II y a de ccitalncs idees d'unlformitc. qui saisis- 
 sent quelquefois les grands esprits, mais qui frappent 
 ijifailliblement les petits. Jls y trouvent un genre de 
 perfection qu'ils rcconnoissent, parce qu'il est impos- 
 sible de ne le pas decouvrir ; les mcmes poids dans la 
 police, les memes mcsures dans la commerce, les memes 
 loix dans I'etat, la meme religion dans toutes ses parties^ 
 Mais cela est-il toujours a propos sans exception r — Et 
 la grandeur du genie ne consisteroit-cllc mieux a scavoir, 
 dans quels cas il faut de Tuniformite et dans quels casil 
 faut des differences r" 
 
 MoNTESQ^de I'esprit dcs loix. l.iv. xxix. ch. 1 8. 
 
246 Hoxv the Church may stand [Part ii. 
 
 cles, but to pronounce them with a latitude 
 which may both consist with substantial 
 truth, and afford a due allowance to human 
 misapprehension and infirmity; and espe- 
 ciall}^, which may lessen, if not entirely 
 prevent, the extreme danger of prevarica- 
 tion. To do this effectually, the language 
 employed must be general, or such as may 
 express, without doing it violence, the vari- i 
 ous meanings, or the various modifications I 
 of meaning, intended to be permitted ; and ' 
 this intention must be conveyed in a clear 
 and unequivocal manner. Without these 
 precautions, or without some mental reserva- 
 tion or exception, the compiler, I fear, 
 must be content to subscribe his own articles ., 
 alone ; and from the variable state of the 
 human mind, and the perpetual change of 
 its views and perceptions, it is probable ; 
 that even he himself could not subscribe 
 them ex animo, and in ever}^ jot and tittle, 
 for two days together; though, as to the 
 substance, and what they contained essen- 
 tial to faith and practice, he might hold I 
 them very uniformly, and with increasing;! 
 attachment, to the end of life. 
 
Sect, v.] xvitli complete Toleration, 247 
 
 S, Whether the above precautions are 
 sufficiently regarded in the creed of any 
 
 ■ modern church (for I omit the more ancient) 
 may perhaps be fairly questioned. They are 
 
 M certainly not so regarded in those churches 
 (if there be any such) that profess to establish 
 their articles of faith according to one pre- 
 cise exclusive meaning; in which, however 
 orthodox that meaning may be, it is morally 
 impossible, as Ave have more than once 
 
 I noted, for any two persons, and conse- 
 quently for ten, or ten thousand, exactly 
 to coincide. Nor are they so regarded by 
 those churches, in which a latitude of judg- 
 ment is rather a matter of connivance than 
 of express permission ; or in which this 
 latitude is not so clearly and distinctly de- 
 fined and expressed, as to leave no ground 
 of reasonable doubt to the subscriber, whe- 
 ther his subscription falls within the pre- 
 scribed limits. In the former case, no room 
 is left for subscription at all ; in the latter, 
 it must often be ambiguous and captious, 
 and ensnaring to the subscriber's conscience. 
 This deceitful ambiguity has been charged 
 by protestants on the council of Trent, 
 
248 How the Church vimj stand [Part ir. 
 
 which, under a pretence of unity, deter- 
 mined several points of doctrine in a man- 
 ner so equivocal, as to leave ample room 
 for a diversity of interpretations ; a policy 
 which, however favourable it might be to 
 the power of the church that was thus left 
 at liberty to decree and act as she found 
 most convenient, could afford but little satis- 
 faction to those individuals, who wished to 
 reconcile their subscription with their sin- 
 cerity. 
 
 4. The two most obvious inconveniences, 
 and which must occur to every one, in the 
 matter of subscription to those fonnularies 
 of faith which are drawn up with too much 
 curiosit}^ are, first, that many candidates 
 for orders subscribe at a period when they 
 must be incompetent to judge of intricate 
 points of theology *. And, secondly, that 
 though they should, at the time, subscribe 
 
 * It was formerly, I believe, usual with some colleges 
 in our universities, to require subscription to the thivti)- 
 nine articles from boys of fourteen or sixteen years of 
 age, upon their l)cing matriculated ; a practice, where- 
 cver it is found, which deserves the most unc|nalified 
 repr-obation. 
 
Sect, v.] xvitJi complete Toleration, 249 
 
 intelligently and ex anhnoy they may after- 
 wards alter their opinion ; if not essentially, 
 and ill respect to fundamental truth, at 
 least in many particulars, to which they 
 could no longer yield an unfeigned assent and 
 consent, as being perfectly agreeable to the 
 doctrine of scripture. How to prevent this 
 latter inconvenience I know not, unless the 
 subscribers could engage for the future as 
 well as for the present ; according to a de- 
 cree of the reformed churches in France, 
 A. D. 1612, by Avhich, every candidate for 
 orders was required to make the following 
 declaration : " I receive and approve all 
 that is contained in the confession of faith 
 of the reformed churches of this nation, 
 and promise to persevere therein to my life's 
 end, and never to believe or teach any thing 
 not conformable to it *.'* Or, accordine: to 
 another decree of the same churches, A. D. 
 1620, bv which the subscriber binds himself 
 in yet stronger terms, as follows : ** I swear 
 and promise before God, and this holy as- 
 
 * See preface to Jortin's Remarks on Ecclesiastical 
 Illstoiy. 
 
250 How the Chiuxk may stand [Part ii. 
 
 sembly, that I receive, approve, and em- 
 brace all the docbine taught and decided 
 by the national synod of Don, — I swear 
 and promise that I will persevere in it all 
 my life long, and defend it with all my 
 power, and never depart from it in my ser- 
 mons, college lectures, writings, or conver- 
 sation, or in any other manner, public or 
 private. I declare also and protest, that I 
 reject and condemn the doctrine of the 
 Arminians, because, &c. So help me God, 
 as I swear all this without equivocation or 
 mental reservation*.'* How these good 
 men could bring themselves either to take 
 or require so extravagant an oath, I shall 
 not examine ; certainly they must have been 
 free-wilkrs of no ordinary quality, notwith- 
 standing all their zeal against the Jrmijiiajis, 
 ever to have dreamt of such an engage- 
 ment. There are few however who can 
 be supposed willing to undertake to such 
 an extent, or who, if thus rashly engaged, 
 would be able, with all their efforts, entirelv 
 
 * See preface to Jortin's Remarks on Ecclesiastical 
 History. 
 
Sect, v.] witli complete Toleration. 2.31 
 
 to avoid that embarrassment ^vhich must he 
 ielt by an honest subscriber, upon sucli a 
 cfiange in his opinions as will not strictly 
 stand with the terms of his engagement. 
 When this, together with the preceding 
 observations, is considered by the reader, 
 he will the less wonder to hear Bishop Bur- 
 net express himself in the following man- 
 ner : '* The requiring subscription to the 
 thirty-nine articles is a great imposition : I 
 believe them mvself; but as those about 
 origbial sin and predestination might be ex- 
 pressed more unexceptionably, so I think 
 it is a better way, to let such matters con- 
 tinue to be still the standard of doctrine, 
 with some few corrections, and to censure 
 those Avho teach any contrary tenets, than 
 to oblige all that serve in the church to 
 subscribe them. The greater part subscribe 
 without ever examining them ; and others 
 do it because they must do it, though they 
 can hardly satisfy their consciences about 
 some things in them. Churches and socie- 
 ties are much better secured by laws than 
 by subscriptions; it is a more reasonable. 
 
25i2 HoiV the Church may stand [Part u, 
 
 as well as a more easy method of govern- 
 ment*." 
 
 5. The bishop's concluding remark, on 
 the substitution of laws in the place of sub- 
 scrjptioas, appears solid and important. 
 But should it still be thought expedient to 
 retain the latter, it Avould seem not verv 
 difficult to devise some form of subscription 
 much less exceptionable than those which 
 are at present in use, and which would as 
 effectually answer every good end proposed 
 by such a measure. Why might not the 
 following, or some equivalent form, be 
 thought generally sufficient ? 
 
 " I believe that the holi/ scriptures, as they 
 are commonly received among protestants, 
 contain all things necessary to salvation ; so 
 that, whatsoever is not read therein, nor proved 
 thereby, is not to he required of any man, that 
 it should be believed as an article of faith , or be 
 thought requisite or neccssaiy to salvation -f. 
 
 * Bishop Burnet's conclusion to the History of his 
 own Times. 
 
 t The words in italics are from the sixth article of 
 tlie church of England. 
 
Sect, v.] icitk complete Toleration, 253 
 
 And I declare my sincere intention, seriously 
 to study the sacred scri[)tures, and to in- 
 struct the people in the same, according to 
 my best abilities/' 
 
 Should the question respect an admission 
 to minister in the church of EnQ:land in 
 particular, why might not the following, 
 or some similar declaration, be thought 
 satisfactory ? *' I am persuaded that the 
 doctrine of the church of England is so 
 pure and orthodox, that whosoever believes 
 it, and lives according to it, shall be saved; 
 and that there is no error in it, which may 
 necessitate any man to disturb the peace, 
 or renounce the communion of it*.*' When 
 Bishop SaiidersuHy who was a good man, 
 and a skilful casuist, was consulted upon 
 this formula by some divines who proposed 
 it, as one to which they were willing to 
 agree, he answered, ** I never subscribed 
 in any other sense myself/* Or why might 
 not ChillingwortlLs form of subscription be 
 admitted, as expressed in these words ? '* I 
 do verily believe the church of England a 
 
 * Life of Chllllngworth, by Dcs Malzeaux. 
 
254 How the Church rnaj/ stand [Part if, 
 
 true member of the chmxh (universal); 
 that she wants nothing necessary to salva- 
 tion, and holds nothing repugnant to it*." 
 Either of these forms might be thought 
 sufficiently high for any church that makes 
 no claim to infallibility, and might help to 
 relieve the scruples of some wise and good 
 men. 
 
 As what has been advanced under this 
 head is so easily applicable to those points 
 of clerical subscription, v/hich relate either 
 to forms of prayer, or to other offices of reli- 
 gion, I forbear to enter upon them; and 
 shall hasten to close this section, after a word 
 or two on lay-communion. 
 
 Though our established clergy may have 
 cause to complain of the hard terms imposed 
 upon them, this is not the case with the 
 adult among the laity, who are almost in- 
 discriminately admitted to the most solemn 
 ordinance of Christianity, upon the easy 
 condition of compliance with one indifferent 
 ceremony. Whatever be thefr faith or prac- 
 tice, their principles or conduct, they are 
 
 * Life of Chilfingworth, by Des Maizeaux. 
 
8ect. v.] ivitli complete Toleration. ^55 
 
 at liberty, not only to attend to the public 
 prayers and instructions of the national 
 church, which is reasonable and proper, 
 but also to approach her altars, and there 
 to receive at her hands the memorials of 
 the death of our Redeemer ; provided they 
 will consent to receive them in a kneeling 
 posture. Let this condition be observed, 
 and it is extremely rare that any inquiry is 
 made, whether the communicant be a saint 
 or a profligate, a believer or an infidel. 
 This laxity, so remote from the primitive 
 practice, can hardly fail to reflect some 
 dishonour on any church where it is suffered ; 
 to cause some alienation or regret in her 
 more serious members; and to breed in 
 others a neglect, if not a contempt, of all 
 religion. Nor is our own church insensible 
 to this danger, as appears from her commina- 
 tion office, where, as we have already re- 
 marked, she laments the want of that godhj 
 discipline, which was exercised in the first 
 and best ages of Christianity. Whether in- 
 deed it would be expedient (supposing the 
 possibility) to revive this discipline in its 
 whole extent, might be justly disputed. 
 
256 How the Cliurch may stand [Part ii. 
 
 There is certainly in this, as in most other 
 things, an extreme of rigour, as well as the 
 contrary ; and it is the part of wise men to 
 find out that medium, which in the exist- 
 ing circumstances of the church and of the 
 world, is most favourable to peace and edi- 
 fication. 
 
 A national church, formed according to 
 the above rules — in her doctrine sound and 
 evangelical, equally remote from a dry hea- 
 then morality and a wild enthusiasm, from 
 Pharisaic confidence and Antinomian pre- 
 sumption ; — in her instruction of children 
 familiar and catechetical;^ — in her public 
 teaching, plain and expository ; — in her 
 worship, pure and devotional ; — in her dis- 
 cipline, strict without rigour ; — in her minis- 
 ters, exhibiting her pastoral care, as well as 
 her aptitude to teach ; — in her pretensions, 
 reserved and modest ; — in her conduct 
 towards other churches, candid and liberal ; 
 — and, in the last place, in her terms of 
 admission to her communion, moderate with- 
 out laxity ; neither so narrow as to make it 
 difficult for wise and good men to enter 
 without some wound to their conscience, nor 
 
Sect, v.] tcitli complete Toleration, 257 
 
 t>o uide, as to allow an easy incrrcss to the 
 profane and the profligate. — A church that 
 bears these characters, and answers to this 
 description, can have nothing to fear from 
 the most complete toleration ; she would 
 have few separatists fi'om her communion, 
 at least, few of such as lield the faith in a 
 pure conscience ; and as to the conventicles 
 of heresy and schism, they would have no 
 other effect, than to draw off those noxious 
 humours and inflammable spirits, which, if 
 retained, would only Iiave served to corrupt 
 her purity, or disturb her peace. 
 
CHRISTIAN POLITICS. 
 
 PART III. 
 
 ON THE CONDUCT OF A GOOD CITIZEN, 
 PARTICULARLY UNDER ANY MODER- 
 ATE GOVERNMENT. 
 
 AS without some degree of conformity 
 between our interior dispositions and 
 our external circumstances, there can be 
 no contentment, it is evident, we can only 
 attain this blessing by bringing our circum- 
 stances to our liking, or the contrary ; and 
 as the former method is generally impracti- 
 cable, we must either succeed by the latter, 
 or probably be left to struggle through life 
 with bitterness and sorrow. 
 
 Man, finding himself ill at ease, and not 
 
 s 2 
 
260 Rules to be observed [Part hi. > 
 
 I, 
 understandins: the true ^^round of his com- i 
 
 plaint, is readj^ to resohe it, as before re- -^ 
 marked, into some unhappiness or defect \ 
 in his exterior condition ; hence it usuallv • 
 happens, that to remove, one after another, j 
 the grievances that press hardest upon him, ! 
 and to multiply his amusements and plea- ' 
 sures, are the two great objects to which' 
 he first directs his endeavours ; though com- , 
 monlv, as mi^ht be foreseen, with little f 
 .advantage to his real comfort. Perhaps, in ; 
 a more advanced stage of life, willing to , 
 persuade himself that public measures aVe; 
 the sources of private misery, he commences 
 a reformer of laws and government ; and! 
 continues to urge his remonstrances, andi 
 to form his projects, till after many ineffectual! 
 attempts to mend the world, and reduce it' 
 to his plans of political perfection, he at; 
 last fiikis it wisest to bear with patience what 
 he cannot remedv. 
 
 Pleiice it appears, that to gain a just view 
 of what is attainable in our present state, is 
 a point of the greatest consequence; as we 
 cannot otherwise properly regulate our be- 
 haviour towards others, or avoid ourselves 
 
Part hi.] by a good Cltheji, 2()1 
 
 those many vexations and disappointments, 
 to which visionary theorists and adventurers, 
 and those who hsten to them, are continually 
 liable. 
 
 We therefore lay down the following as 
 primary rules of conduct to be observed by 
 a good citizen, particularly under any mo- 
 derate government, 
 
 I. To guard against any wrong impres- 
 sions he might receive from new and plau- 
 sible political theories ; and to regulate his 
 expectations by what is obvious and practi- 
 cable in the present state of human nature, 
 and the existing circumstances of public 
 affairs. 
 
 II. To distinguish real political evils from 
 imaginary ones, and from those various 
 evils which arise out of the common con- 
 dition of man in this w^orld : also. Not to 
 aggravate or rashly oppose the first; to 
 dismiss the second ; and to suffer patiently 
 the last. 
 
 III. To avoid an idle curiosity in political 
 matters ; and still more a disposition to hunt 
 after small or unknown grievances. 
 
 IV. To beware of any unnecessary or 
 
262 Rules to be observed, S(c, [Part hi. 
 
 hasty attachment, and still more of a blind 
 devotion, to any party whatever, either in 
 politics or religion. 
 
 V. Lastly : Never forwardly to urge his 
 public claims or pretensions, nor beyond 
 what the common good may require ; and 
 when this, on the whole, is provided for, 
 to rest satisfied in the quiet and faithful dis- 
 charge of the duties of his present station. 
 
 That the reader may be duly sensible 
 of the reason and expediency of these rules, 
 I shall endeavour to illustrate them at some 
 length in the five following sections. 
 
Rule I.] ( 263 ) 
 
 SECTION L 
 
 On the first Rule of Conduct to be observed 
 by every good Citizen, namely, To guard 
 against any ivrong Impressions he might re- 
 ceive from new and plausible political Theories ; 
 and to regulate his Expectations by what is 
 obvious and practicable in the present State of 
 human Nature, and the existing Ciixum^ 
 stances of public Affairs, 
 
 A GENERAL presumption lies against 
 all innovations and untried theories, and 
 against none more than those which are of 
 a political nature*. Hence, such experi- 
 ments ought never to be practised upon a 
 state without grave deliberation; as their 
 success is always uncertain, and often ex- 
 tremely hazardous. The entire result of 
 any change in the constitution and laws of 
 
 * " Of all undertakings, the most arduous, the most 
 dangerous, and the most liable to miscarry, is the in- 
 troduction of new laws." Machiavd's Prince^ ch. 6. 
 
264 To guard against [Part iii, 
 
 a country, depends on such a multitude and 
 variety of causes and circumstances, that it 
 can never be exactly foreseen by the great- 
 est human sagacity; and is sometimes 
 widely different from all probable conjec- 
 ture. Even the enacting of a single law, 
 which i:?; a measure that might be supposed 
 within the reach of political calculation, 
 often produces effects very different and re- 
 mote from what was in contemplation by 
 the legislator. ^' It hath been an ancient 
 observation/' savs Blackstone, '' in the laws 
 of England, that whenever a standing rule 
 of law, of which the reason perhaps can- 
 not be remembered or discerned, hath been 
 wantonly broken in upon by statute or new 
 resolutions, the wisdom of the rule hath in 
 the end appeared from the inconveniences 
 that have followed the innovation -{-/' This 
 should inspire us with respect for established 
 laws and usages, though the grounds upon 
 which thev w^ere introduced be now un* 
 known ; and should teach us to regard w^itb 
 a prudent jealousy all such persons as appear 
 
 * Blackstone' s Covimeyit. vol. i. p. 70. 
 
Rule i.] political Thcoricsv 26;> 
 
 to be actuated by a spirit of political inno- 
 vation. 
 
 This jealousy ouglit eminently to be di- 
 rected against those \vho are not only dis- 
 satisfied Avith particular laws and institutions, 
 but would have the whole civil state dis- 
 solved, all rank, and title, and property 
 abolished, and the entire political system 
 recomposed after a better model. To such 
 enterprizing revolutionists, a good citizen 
 might be supposed thus to address himself: 
 Your ideas, it must be acknowledged, are 
 bold, and bespeak the genius of modern 
 pliilosQphy. But do you understand clearly 
 A\hat vou mean bv a better model ; and 
 have vou Avell considered, that it is often 
 better to adapt the form to the matter, than 
 with violence to reduce the matter to the 
 form? Have you seriou.sly counted the 
 cost, and are you sure that the probable 
 benefit is greater than the certain risk ? If 
 not, you are a dangerous projector ; and 
 had you power to enforce your specula- 
 tions, might prove a fatal enemy to your 
 countrv. To which he misrht add, that no 
 prudent man would pull down his mansion. 
 
266 To guard against [Part hi. 
 
 the ancient residence of his family, and 
 the admiration of all beholders, at the sug- 
 gestion of some modish architect, that it teas 
 old, that it was built at different periods, and 
 therefore irregular^ having some apartments too 
 large, and others too small, with many winding 
 and narrow passages ; if it was probable that, 
 notwithstanding all its imperfections, a bet- 
 ter would not be erected in its stead. 
 
 It is not meant by this to insinuate, that 
 the political state of a country may not be 
 such as to render a general revolution ad- 
 visable, provided it can be accomplished 
 without war and violence ; nay, further, it 
 might be allowed, that the necessity of the 
 case may be so great and pressing, as to 
 justify even a recourse to arms, after every 
 gentler method had been tried without 
 effect. Short of this unhappy necessity, a 
 wise man will be disposed to sit down 
 quietly, and make the best of the existing 
 circumstances ; while things remain tolera- 
 ble he will be satisfied, as knowing that; 
 human life, in its ordinary tenor, admits of 
 nothing more. , 
 
 Another consideration which may help to 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
 Rule i.] political Theories. 267 
 
 guard us against wrong impressions from 
 Utopian projectors, is, that the question of 
 laws and government ought to be determined 
 by the relation they bear to the particular 
 circumstances in which a people are placed. 
 A nation during its youth, Avhile simple 
 manners prevail, and the principles of in- 
 dustry and frugality continue in vigour, re- 
 quires much less wisdom to manage it than 
 an old nation, refined to artificial life, and 
 in possession of the objects which the other 
 is striving to obtain. In this stage, it is 
 hardly possible to recover a country to its 
 sober habits, or to preserve it from the fatal 
 consequences of inveterate vice and dissipa- 
 tion ; and to charge upon the existing go- 
 vernment all the evils which have been ac- 
 cumulating, perhaps, for ages, must be 
 highly unreasonable and unjust. Moreover, 
 to the moral situation of a people, must be 
 added their political habits, which often 
 dispose them to regard, with a favourable 
 partiality, even the defects of the govern- 
 ment they have been long under ; which, 
 therefore, on the whole, may suit them 
 better than another theoretically more per- 
 
268 To guard against [Part hi. 
 
 feet*. And it is good for every man to 
 cherish in himself and his fellow-citizens, a 
 generous predilection for the political frame 
 and constitution of his own country, with- 
 out invidiously comparing it with that of 
 others. As when Sir James Melvil was 
 asked by Queen Elizabeth, w^hether herself 
 or the Queen of Scots was the greater 
 beauty ; after a prudent pause upon so deli- 
 
 * " RIen ne parut plus insupportable aux Germalns, 
 que le tribunal de Varus. Celui que Justinien erigea 
 chez les Laziens, pour faire le proces au meurtrier de 
 leur roi, leur parut une chose horrible et barbare. 
 Mithridate haranguant centre les Romains, leur reproche 
 sur-tout les formalltes de leur justice. Les Parthes ne 
 purent supporter ce roi, qui ayant cte eleve a Rome sc 
 rendlt affable, et accessible a tout le monlje. La li- 
 bertc meme a paru insupportable a des peuples, qui 
 n'etoient pas accoutumes a en jouir. C'est ainsi qu'un 
 air pur est quelquefois nuisible a ceux qui ont vccu dans 
 des pais marecageux. 
 
 ** Un Venitlen nommc Balbi, etant au Pegu, fut in- 
 troduit chez le roi. Quand celui-ci apprit qu'il n'y 
 avoit point de roi a Venise, il fit un si grand eclat de 
 rire, qu'une toux le prlt, et qu'il eut beaucoup de peine 
 a parler a ses courtisans. Quel est le legislateur qui 
 pourroit proposer le governcment populaire a des peu- 
 ples pareils ?" 
 
 MoNTEsc^liv. xix. ch. 2. 
 
Rule i.] politiad Theories. 209 
 
 cate a question, replied, " Your majesty is 
 tlie fairest woman in England, and my 
 mistress in Scotland." 
 
 The British constitution has now for a 
 considerable period been the object of- zea- 
 lous attachment at home, and of admiration 
 abroad ; after struggling through the obstruc- 
 tions of many ages, it attained at the revolu- 
 tion to a purity and vigour, which has given 
 an enerQ V before unknown to the exertions of 
 a great nation, in manufactures and com- 
 merce, in arts and sciences ; while every 
 good citizen has reposed in security under 
 its shadow. It must therefore be perfect 
 madness, after such experience of its effects, 
 to aim a blow at the root, and attempt its 
 extirpation, instead of prudently endeavour- 
 ing to lop away the decayed, or prune the 
 luxuriant branches. 
 
 Another reason against Utopian politics, 
 is the example of the Jewish nation. Never 
 was there a people that had statutes and 
 judgments so righteous, besides the privi- 
 lege of consulting the divine oracle upon 
 every extraordinary emergence. Never 
 was there a civil constitution better calcu- 
 
270 T6 guard against [Part iil 
 
 lated for perpetuity by periodical renova- 
 tions *. No nation was ever so eminently 
 the care of heaven^ nor any other country 
 so highly favoured with the bounties of na- 
 ture, as the land of Judea. A land, savs 
 Moses, of brooks of zmters, of fountains , and 
 depths that spring out of vallies and hills ; a 
 land of ivheat and barley, and vines and Jig- 
 trees, and pornegi'anates ; a land of oil-olive 
 and honey ; a land wherein thou shalt cat bread 
 ivithout scayxeness, thou shalt not lack any thing 
 in it ; a land xvhose stones are iron, and out of 
 ivhose hills thou may est dig brass -jf. Yet amidst 
 all these blessings and advantages, both na- 
 tural and political, the people tempted und 
 provoked the most high God, and kept not his 
 testimonies, but turned back, and dealt unfaith- 
 fully like their fathers \ ; they were ungrate- 
 ful and rebellious, and in consequence be- 
 came a prey to the sword of their enemies, 
 and to other sore calamities. 
 
 If^ then, the provisions made by infinite 
 
 * I scarce need to observe, that this refers to the 
 sabbatical year, and the year of jubilee. 
 
 t Dcut. viii. 7-9. % Psal. Ixxviii. 56, 57. 
 
Rule i.] political Theories, 271 
 
 wisdom failed to secure the obedience and 
 prosperity of a highly distinguished nation, 
 what can be expected from the laws and 
 regulations of men ? If, under a theocracy, 
 a perverse people brought distress and ruin 
 upon themselves, we cannot wonder if the 
 same should happen under the best human 
 form and administration of government. 
 Should you say. We are not Jews, — it is 
 true, — but we are men ; and therefore sub- 
 ject to like passions with other men, whe- 
 ther Jews or Gentiles. 
 
 It is granted, indeed, that a nation may 
 sometimes be raised above its natural level, 
 and a better order of things may commence, 
 and proceed for a season ; but this, I appre- 
 hend, is oftner to be ascribed to the ascend- 
 ant genius of particular individuals, or to 
 the influence of some extraordinary con- 
 juncture, than to any plans of systematic 
 policy : it is some patriot king, or some 
 powerful and disinterested minister, who 
 inspires a people with a fresh portion of 
 public spirit ; or a sense of common danger 
 suspends private competitions and state fac- 
 tions, and unites all parties in a regard to the 
 
272 Tri gtictrd'agahist [Part hi. 
 
 general interest; or a people having eman- 
 cipated themselves, and as^eftdS their justi 
 rii^hts and liberties, after a ' hard stru o'Gfle 
 against oppreBsiHri] are Bome^ ori for a while ' 
 under the generous impulsion of true pa- ' 
 triotism; yet these causes being ciriTy ¥raii- 1 
 sient and occasional, the selfish passions, ' 
 which are sure al walls' to be at work, thoiigli 
 not always openly, w-ill not fail to recover | 
 in the end their former influence. | 
 
 This secret tendency to prefer the indl^ 1 
 vidual to the general interest, and which, 
 I fear, is prevalent in the jfer greater part ■ 
 of the human race, should teach us (since 
 no art can act beyond the capacity of the : 
 matter) not to expect too much from the 
 wisest polity operating upon so untoward a 
 subject as man. We should not expect 
 legislators to be invested with the powers-of 
 Amphion, who, by the music of his harp,^ 
 is said to have reared the walls of Thebis ;• 
 nor imagine that the erection- of a- stated' 
 like the coniposition of a poem, in which 
 the author is at liberty to cull or create his i 
 matter, and to work it up to the height of 
 his genius ; whereas the politician must take 
 
Rule i.] political Theories. 273 
 
 his materials as he finds thein> and be con-- 
 tent to give them such f()rms as they are 
 wilhng to receive. 
 
 Indeed had men n(^ natural repugnance 
 to reason, and to reasonable laws and go- 
 vernment, as some have imagined ; and 
 would fall into their proper places in society 
 at the voice of a wise legislation, and go 
 on in the quiet discharge of their proper 
 duties; then might we expect to see politi- 
 cal fabrics rising in all the proportions of 
 moral matliematics, whose duration would 
 be commensurate with time itself But 
 the case is far otherwise ; and has so been 
 uniformly considered before the present 
 times. ** Political writers/' saysMachiavel, 
 '* have laid it down as a first principle, of 
 which all history demonstrates the truth, 
 that Avhoever would found a state, and 
 enact proper laws for the government of it, 
 must presuppose that all men are naturally 
 corrupt, and will not fail to discover their de- 
 pravity whenever a fair opportunity offers; 
 for though it may possibly lie concealed 
 awhile, on account of some secret reason 
 which docs not then appear to men of small 
 
 T 
 
274 To guard against [Part hi, \ 
 
 experience, yet time (which is therefore \ 
 called the lather of truth) commonly brings 
 it to hght in the end *'* *' Would to hea- 
 ven," says Helvetius, '* that virtue was our 
 natural inheritance ! What pleasure would 
 it give me to find all men good ! But by 
 persuading them that they are good already, f 
 I should slacken their ardour to become so ; 
 I should call them good, and help to ren- 
 der them wicked -f-." It is this universal i 
 
 * PoIIt. Disc, on Livy, 61. c. 3. — To the same pur- 
 pose Hooker speaks in his Ecclesiastical Polity, *' Laws \ 
 politic, (says he) ordained for external order and regi- \ 
 ment amongst men, are never framed as they should be, / 
 unless presuming the will of man to be inwardly obsti- i 
 nate, rebellious, and averse from all obedience to the i 
 sacred laws of his nature : in a word, unless presuming 
 man to be in regard of his depraved mind, little better . 
 than a wild beast, they do accordingly provide notwitli- ; 
 standing so to frame his outward actions, that they beJ 
 no hindrance to the common good, for which societies | 
 are instituted ; unless they do this, they are not perfect." ? 
 B. i. p. 85. : 
 
 t Helv. de I'homme, sect. v. ch. 2. — Yet this natu- 
 ral privation of virtue is no insuperable difficulty in thci 
 way of modern policy, which, it seems, has every re-[ 
 source within itself; and can teach mrtiie, as well as3 
 govern the virtuous. Socrates,., it is true, when he isi 
 introduced discoursing with Meno upon the question. 
 
 J 
 
 I 
 
KuLE I.] political Theories. 275 
 
 depravity, \yhich deprives the government 
 of sufficient means to carry the best laws 
 into execution. ** Give me," said Archi- 
 
 TVhcthev lirtue is capable of bciiig taught ? at lenglh 
 sums up the whole in this manner : " If," says he, ** wc 
 have rightly conducted our inquiry, this is the conclu- 
 sion ; that virtue is neither derived frovi nature nor in- 
 strnctioHj hut is a divine gift or allotment.'''' It appears 
 there were at that time certain sophists, who went about 
 pretending to teach virtue, and this upon mere human 
 principles ; just as they would teach some secular art or 
 science, without looking for any superior aid or assist- 
 ance ; these Socrates encountered in his usual way by 
 argument and raillery ; and was Socrates to rise again, 
 he would doubtless encounter, in the same strain, those 
 legislative sophists who have lately set up the same pre- 
 tensions. 
 
 It might indeed be granted to these sages, if that was 
 all they intended, that a certain kind and degree of vir- 
 tue is producible by human institutions ; but when they 
 endeavour to substitute this in the place of that genuine 
 virtue which is the offspring of religion, we must take 
 the liberty to charge the attempt cither upon their igno- 
 rance, or their design to impose upon their fcilow-crea- 
 tures in a point which most highly concerns them. 
 That virtue which is learnt in the schools of human 
 policy must partake of the baseness of its original, is 
 neither much to be depended on in this world, nor is 
 likely to meet with any recompense in another. 
 
 What is possible to be done, however, by civil regu- 
 
 t2 
 
576 To guard agahist, 8(c. [Part iiI. i] 
 
 itiedes, '* Avhere to place my engines, and 
 I will move the earth." Was any part of 
 society perfectly uncorrupt, it would afford 
 a stable ground on which the powers of 
 government might rest and act, with an : 
 energy and effect that has never yet been 
 , experienced. As things now are, no en- ^ 
 tirely sound part is to be found ; the whole \ 
 head is siek, and the xvhole heart is faint ; the 
 legislator and magistrate are of the same I 
 depraved mass with the people ; and while ' 
 they govern others, have need themselves to 
 be controlled by the universal laws of reason. I 
 and equity. i 
 
 \fy therefore, the situation of a country 
 be such, as to afford redress for gross viola- 
 tions of liberty and property, and a com- 
 fortable subsistence for the honest and in- 
 dustrious, it is all that can be expected jj 
 from political wisdom, operating in the most 
 favourable circumstances. 
 
 
 1P( 
 
 J on 
 
 iations, ought diligently to be endeavoured ; they may 
 powerfully restrain vice, though their influence be less 
 in promoting virtue; and may remove many obstacles • k 
 to piety, though its progress depends upon higher 
 causes. 
 
 fe 
 
 ^ 
 
RuLEu.] ( ni ) 
 
 SECTION II, 
 
 On the second Rule to be observed by a 
 good Citizen, namely. To distingidsk real 
 political Evils Jrom imaginarij ones, and from 
 tliose various Evils xvhich arise out of the 
 common Condition of Man in this World : 
 Also, Not to aggravate or rashbj oppose the 
 First ; to dismiss the Second ; and to suffer 
 patiently the Last, 
 
 I. Political evils proceed either from 
 inexpedient laws ; from the abuse of power 
 in the hands of masristrates, or of other 
 executive officers; or from unseasonably per- 
 mitting either the legislative or executive 
 power to lie dormant. From these causes, 
 under a weak or tyrannic government, a 
 country may be reduced from opulence to 
 beggary, from liberty to slavery, and from a 
 high degree of temporal felicity to the rpost 
 
f78 Rightly to distinguish [Part in. 
 
 abject state of wretchedness. Even under a f 
 wise and moderate government, these evils E 
 cannot ahvays, and in every degree, be | 
 excluded ; the necessary resources of a i 
 country may be impaired, or individual in- 
 juries sustained, by improvident laws and i 
 the abuse of power, notwithstanding everj^ i 
 precaution on the part of the legislature, 
 and the utmost care in selecting fit persons 
 to carry its provisions into execution. An 
 attempt to enumerate these evils would be 
 endless and unnecessary, as every reader's 
 reflection will easily supply him with in- 
 stances more than sufficient. 
 
 To distinguish between imaginary politi- 
 cal evils and such as are real, we shall recur 
 to an axiom before established, namely,, 
 That the best possible state of civil society; 
 is, when the mass of its members can sub- 
 sist comfortably with moderate labour, and 
 cannot subsist without it ; })rovided, at the 
 same time, that the stabilitj^ of this order 
 of things be reasonably secured. 
 
 From this axiom it will follow, that in 
 proportion as the state of a nation answersi 
 
HuLE II.] a7i(l treat political Evils, 279 
 
 to the description here given, all appre- 
 hensions of public grievances must, in the 
 same proportion, be irrational and un- 
 founded. 
 
 Let us endeavour to illustrate this in a 
 few instances. 
 
 1. First, in respect to the general state of 
 commerce. All political complaints upon 
 this subject, in the circumstances now sup- 
 posed, must, in the main, be groundless. 
 They are the complaints of the merchant 
 or manufacturer, in contrariety to the in- 
 terest of the poor artizan ; in other words, 
 they are the complaints of the kw^ opposed 
 to the interest of the manv, whose new and 
 imaginary wants, excited, in a progressive 
 state of commerce, by an advance of wages, 
 and the luxurious example of their supe- 
 riors, would multiply faster than their means 
 of supplying them ; and, consequently, in 
 no long time, must sink their relative situa- 
 tion below what it was before. It would 
 be only the merchant and manufacturer, 
 who, by increasing their Avealth at such a 
 prosperous period beyond their increased 
 expences, would be able permanently to 
 
280 lUghtly to distinguish [Part ih* 
 
 establish themselves in a higher rank and 
 station in society than they before had oc- 
 cupied. 
 
 2. Ail jealous apprehensions on the sub- 
 ject oi" national power or glory are, in the 
 same circumstances, no less vain and vi- 
 sionary; they are the waking dreams of 
 ambition, as the former were of avarice. 
 To a prince or nation labouring under such 
 a malady, might be recommended the well- 
 known advice of Cineas to PyrrJius, who, 
 upon disclosing his project of conquering 
 Italij, and then other countries in succes- 
 sion, till he had subdued a considerable part 
 of the earth ; at length, after the repeated 
 question of Cineas, And ivliat then ? Why 
 then, said Pyrrlnis, we will sit down and 
 enjoy ourselves. And xchi/ not noxv? was 
 the sensible reply. And might ^ve not 
 with still stronger reason say to a prince 
 or a people, who are already in possession 
 of every solid political advantage. Why 
 should a vain desire of extending your do- 
 minion and renown, tempt you, by pro- 
 voking the envy or jealousy of other 
 powers, to endanger your own stability. 
 
livi.E II.] and treat political F.vils, 281 
 
 and for the sake of a shadow, to run tho 
 risk of losii)"' the substance ? 
 
 3, All ap[)rehensions of any material de- 
 fects in the constitution of a government, 
 under which the bulk of a people may live 
 comfortably, as here stated, with moderate 
 labour, must be imaginary. Let us sup- 
 pose a government similar to that of our 
 own, under which the people are in this 
 situation ; what charge could an imagina- 
 tive citizen allege against it? He might 
 perhaps object to its monarchical part, that 
 it was liable to degenerate into military 
 despotism ; that it might plunge the coun- 
 try into unnecessary wars, and harass it 
 by excessive imposts and cruel exactions; 
 all which would hold against a pure mo- 
 narchy ; but, in the present case, the coun- 
 teraction of the other branches of TOvern- 
 ment Mould prevent such consequences. 
 Or he might allege against the aristocracy, 
 its unfavourable aspect upon the lower or- 
 ders, l)y its legislative authority, and by 
 the abuse of its peculiar privileges; which 
 would be true, if left to rule alone ; but 
 not when combined with the other parts of 
 
 k 
 
282 liightl]/ to distinguish [Part hi. 
 
 the constitution. Or, lastly, he might al- 
 lege against the democratical part of the 
 state, its tendency to generate dissentions, 
 factions, and tumults, its exposure of the 
 pubKc counsels, or the delays it would in- 
 terpose to their execution ; all which, with 
 many other dangers, form an insuperable 
 objection against a pure democracy, but 
 are of little force where the democratical 
 part of the government is restrained and 
 limited by the two others, as in our own 
 happy constitution ; which, by establishing 
 a balance among the three powers, unites 
 in it the advantages of each, and guards 
 against the ill consequences that might grow 
 out of their several defects. Thus are we 
 in possession of that admirable political sys- 
 tem, which Tacitus thought was rather to 
 be applauded than hoped for, and which, 
 if realized, could never be of long dura- 
 tion*; an opinion whose fallacy the inha- 
 bitants of this country have happily expe- 
 
 * " Cunctas nationeseturbes, populiis, aiit primorcs, 
 aut singuli regunt. Delecta ex his et constituta reipub- 
 licai forma, laudari facilius quam cvenire ; aut si evenit, 
 haud diuturna esse potest." Tag. An. lib. iv. cap. 33. 
 
Rule ii.] and treat political Evils. 283 
 
 rienced ; and for a British citizen to listen 
 to his fears in opposition to this experience, 
 would be to listen to his imagination more 
 than to his judgment. To say that it is a 
 government short of perfection, is only to 
 say that it is human; but its approach 
 towards it is such, that every project to 
 change it fundamentally, should be enter- 
 tained according to an ancient law of Cha- 
 rondas, which decreed, tJiat every political 
 innovator should appear before the public asseni" 
 bly xcith a rope about his neck, icith zvhich, if 
 his project, after delibej^ation, was rejected, lie 
 should forthwith be suspended for his temerity*. 
 
 Lastly : Though the political grievances 
 which exist in various parts of the world 
 are numerous, and sometimes very difficult 
 to be borne, yet, compared with the other 
 evils which besiege human life on every side, 
 they are few and inconsiderable. Where- 
 ever he is, man is exposed to sickness and 
 death ; to domestic cares and vicissitudes ; to 
 the unkindness and loss of friends, and the 
 malice of enemies; to the torture of unruly 
 
 * Histoire Anciennc, par Rollin. Tom, iii.,p. 399. 
 
284 Rightly to distinguish [Part hi. 
 
 passions; and to those innumerable vexa- 
 tions, without name or description, which, 
 like swarms of locusts, devour up all the 
 verdure of his condition. 
 
 *' How small of all that human hearts enduve. 
 That part, which laws or kmgs can cause or cure." 
 
 In a word, man is troubled with a corrupt 
 heart, and a guiltj^ conscience, the greatest 
 of all evil^, and the sources of all the rest, 
 which will pursue him through all govern- 
 ments, and from which he can find relief 
 in none, except in that which is not of this 
 world. 
 
 When we therefore feel dissatisfied with 
 ourselves, or with others, and especially 
 with our rulers, Ave ought carefully to in- 
 quire, whether it does not arise from those 
 general causes, which act nearly with equal 
 force under every administration of public 
 affairs, unless it be one extreme and vio- 
 lent. 
 
 It is for want of such inquiry, that men 
 in public stations frequently suffer under 
 the most unjust charges, and, in particular, 
 that the prime minister of this country 
 
tluLE II.] a)i() treat political Evils. 285 
 
 (which one inshmce may serve for all) often 
 meets with a treatment similar to what the 
 primitive christians experienced from tlie 
 pagans, who, as Tertullian informs us, charg- 
 ed them as the meritorious causes of every 
 calamity that befel the empire. '' li' the 
 Tiber overflowed its banks, or the Nile did 
 not ; if the heavens withheld their show^ers, 
 or the earth trembled under their feet; if 
 famine or pestilence wasted the city or the 
 })rovinces, the cry immediately was, Aicay 
 icith the christians to the lions*.''' In like 
 manner, a British premier is not only made 
 accountable for disastrous political events, 
 such as unsuccessful wars or negotiations, or 
 for a depressed state of manufactures or 
 cdmmerce ; but also for a scarcity of bread, 
 or of other articles of human subsistence ; 
 as if he was responsible even for the course 
 of nature, or had engaged, upon his as- 
 suming the reins of government, (as the 
 Mexican emperors are said to have done at 
 
 * " Si TiliCrls ascendit in moenia, si Nilus non asccndit 
 i'a arva, si cnElum stctit, si terra movit, si fames, si lues, 
 fetatim christianos ad leonem." Apol. cap. 40. 
 
286 Rightlj/ to disiingidsh [Part iii.^ 
 
 their coronation *) that there should be no 
 barren years, nor other natural disorders 
 during his administration. This confusion 
 of political and physical causes, so frequent 
 in the minds of the populace, and which is 
 the more easy, as they are often found 
 combined in the same events, affords no 
 small advantage to an artful demagogue for 
 working on the fears or discontent of the 
 simple and less-informed citizen, who is thus 
 led to charge entirely upon his governors, 
 what is chiefly the effect of nature; and 
 through a mistaken apprehension of poli- 
 tical grievances to quarrel with divine pro- 
 vidence. 
 
 II. We now proceed to the second part 
 of the rule, namely. Not to aggravate or 
 rashly oppose real political evils ; to dismiss i?na- 
 ginari/ ones ; and, lastly, to hear patiently those 
 
 * " Le roi da Mexique promettoit par un serment so- 
 lemnel, lorsqu'il etoit couronne, que le soleil seroit 
 toujours clair et serein, que les nuces ne repandroicnt 
 leurs pluies qu'a propos, et que la terre pfoduiroit ses 
 fruits ea abondance." Traitc dc VOpinion, par le Gen- 
 dre, torn. iii. p. 713-14. 
 
Rule ii.] and treat political Evils, 287 
 
 evih icJdcli arise out of the common condition of 
 man in this icorld, 
 
 1. If we consider with the least attention 
 the difficulty of a wise legislation, to how 
 many objects and circumstances, both im- 
 mediate and remote, it is necessary to have 
 respect in framing laws, we shall be slow 
 to determine upon their merits ; and, though 
 they should fail of the end intended, shal 
 never load them with aggravated censure. 
 This moderation is strongly enforced by the 
 remark of Blackstone (before cited) '* That 
 a standing rule of law, whose reason was 
 forgot, or could not at present be discerned, 
 was seldom set aside or altered by statute, 
 but the inconvenience of the change after- 
 wards appeared;" which should teach us 
 that, in the regulation of human affairs, it 
 is experience rather than theory, which is 
 the great source of practical wisdom ; and 
 that we are not authorized to infer from 
 laws which, upon trial, are found inexpe- 
 dient, any particular defect of ability or 
 good intention in the legislators ; who per- 
 haps did all that could be done upon the 
 grounds of human foresight and probability. 
 
288 Rlghthj to disthigulsh [Part in'; 
 
 And if this modesty be proper in oiir pri-' 
 vate censures, it is still more so in our pub- 
 lic complaints and remonstrances, which 
 ought never to appear till after a respectful 
 interval; and then in the most peaceable 
 and regular manner. Every thing like in- 
 timidation should studiously be avoided, 
 which w^ould only tend, either to exasperate 
 our superiors and to confirm the grievance, 
 or to weaken the general authority of go- 
 vernment. ^ 
 
 The same considerations are no less ap- 
 plicable to the actual administration of pub- 
 lic affairs. The grounds of executive mea- 
 sures, w^hether relative to war or peace^ 
 often lie equally remote from the eye of 
 the common citizen with those upon which 
 proceed tlie acts of the legislature ; and to 
 condemn them before they are known, or 
 before thej^ have had a fair trial, is mani- 
 festly unjust. Nay, though they should 
 fail in the trial, it would remain still to be 
 inquired, whether the failure arose from j 
 any culpable defect in the measures them- 
 selves, or fiom that general uncertainty of 
 events, against which no human wisdom 
 
Rule ii.] and treat political Evils, 289 
 
 can absolutely provide. No one is ignorant, 
 though few make allowance accordingly^ 
 that the winds and waves, with other in* 
 numerable contingencies of nature ; the 
 treachery of a commander ; a sudden panic ; 
 or the least unforeseen accident, may de-^ 
 feat the best-concerted plans. The little 
 time aflbrded for deliberation is also, in the 
 present case, another and a particular rea- 
 son for allowance ; the emergence may be 
 such as will suffer no delay, which seldom 
 happens in the business of legislation. Be- 
 sides, (which should further increase our 
 tenderness) those who actually steer the ves- 
 sel of the state are most exposed to public 
 animadversion ; everv coffee-house is a tri- 
 bunal before which thev are summoned, and 
 by which, without trial or evidence, they 
 are often unmercifully condemned. To 
 which may be added, the jealous ambition 
 and ever-wakeful envy of their competitors, 
 who lose no opportunity to detect and ex- 
 pose every fault or mistake of which they 
 are guilty ; to charge them with others of 
 which thev are innocent; and to obstruct 
 
 IT 
 
290 Rightly to distinguish [Part iir. 
 
 their most laudable designs and exertions 
 for the public welfare. On all these ac- 
 counts, a good citizen will be warj^^ and de- 
 liberate in his censures of public men or 
 measures; he will neither forwardlv listen 
 to popular rumours or accusations, nor to 
 the rhetoric of patriots out of place ; but 
 like an equitable and humane judge in our 
 criminal courts, will rather act as counsel 
 for the accused, than as a party against 
 liim. 
 
 2. That it is the part of a good citizen to 
 give no entertainment to imaginary political 
 evils, is a position, like many others both 
 in morals and politics, as obvious in theory 
 as it is often difficult to realize in practice. 
 This difficulty is experienced whenever the 
 general clashes with a particular interest ; 
 which must frequently happen in the course 
 of human affairs. Thus when the trade of 
 a countr)^ flows in new channels, those who 
 suffer by the change, will be tempted to 
 consider it as a political evil, though, on the 
 whole, it should advance the common w el- j 
 fare; that is, though it should enable a 
 
Rule ii.] and treat political Evils. 291 
 
 greater mass of the people to live comfort- 
 ably with moderate labour. Or, suppose 
 some heavy tax to be laid which goes to 
 ' promote the same end, it will be in danger 
 to be accounted impolitic and oppressive by 
 those classes on which it chiefly bears. Or, 
 lastlv, when a nation is reduced in its terri- 
 torial possessions, though the reduction 
 should neither impair its resources nor its 
 security, .nay, thouo^h it should tend to con- 
 solidate the one and strengthen the other ; 
 yet a relic of national vanity might tempt 
 a zealous patriot to lament it as a national 
 misfortune. From these, and various other 
 cases that might be supposed, it is evident, 
 that some effort is required to discharge the 
 mind of its partialities ; and that it is neces- 
 sary, in such circumstances, to be a good 
 man in order to be a good citizen. 
 
 3. In the last place, As the common 
 evils of humanity mingle themselves with 
 all others, we should learn to bear them 
 with patience, lest the resentments which 
 they excite should, from the principle of 
 association and the communicative nature 
 of the passions, extend themselves to those 
 
 u 2 
 
1292 Rightly to distinguish [Part hi. 
 
 evils with which they are combined; and 
 thus, because of our infehcity as men, we 
 should become disaffected as citizens. To 
 prevent this unhappy consequence, we 
 should study to obtain a just acquaintance 
 with our common condition in this world ; 
 and to do this effectually, besides a critical 
 examination of ourselves, and of the pre- 
 sent state of mankind, we should take a 
 retrospective view of past ages. Thus, 
 after we have looked back upon what has 
 been done during a period of several thous- 
 and years, (a sufficient time surely for ex- 
 periment) after we have looked . around us, 
 and considered how much evil, moral and 
 physical, still remains in the world, not- 
 withstanding all the attempts of philoso- 
 phers and divines, moralists and legislators, 
 for prevention and remedy; we shall be 
 able, from the whole, to form a judgment 
 of what is practicable, and be taught a 
 lesson of great moderation in our designs 
 and expectations; we shall be taught to 
 place no great confidence of redress in anj^ 
 schemes of human wisdom and policy, nor 
 be surprized if we are called to share in the 
 
Rule ii.] and treat political Evils, 293 
 
 general calamity ; we shall see that all 
 which is possible to be done, is to mitigate 
 those evils which cannot be cured, and to 
 alleviate those burdens which cannot be 
 removed.^ 
 
( 294 ) [Part III. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 On the third Rule to be observed by a good 
 Citizen, namely. To avoid an idle Curiosity 
 in political Matters ; and still more a Disposi- 
 tion to hunt after small or unknown Griev- 
 ances, 
 
 I. Curiosity is an original passion in our 
 nature. It discovers itself early in children, 
 who, when any thing appears to be con- 
 cealed from them, show themselves very 
 anxious to detect the secret ; or when any 
 singular event engages their attention, are 
 apt to be inquisitive after its cause. 
 
 This, like every other principle implanted 
 by the Author of nature, neither can nor 
 ought to be eradicated ; our only business is 
 to direct it to its proper objects, and to re- 
 gulate the manner and measure of its exer- 
 cise. 
 
 The objects to which it ought to be di- 
 rected, relate either to our natural, our mo- 
 
Rule hi.] To slam an idle, &*r. 205 
 
 raly or our political situation ; and though 
 the last only falls strictly within our subject, 
 I would entreat the reader s indulgence to a 
 few previous observations on the two for- 
 mer. 
 
 1. First then, as to our natural situation. 
 When a man travels into a foreign land, his 
 eye is directed to the face of the country ; 
 and should anj^^ new and singular phenomena 
 present themselves, they naturally awaken 
 his curiosity, and call forth his researches. 
 Somethinsr like this is the case when, after 
 the dawn of reason, we enter upon the 
 great scene of the universe. Suppose a 
 boy, who has begun to exert his understand- 
 ing, should observe the sun rising behind 
 a certain hill ; and some months afterward 
 should observe him rise behind another 
 hill at some distance from the former; 
 he will be curious to know the reason of 
 this difference. Or, if he see the moon at 
 first scarcely visible as a crescent, then in a 
 semicircular form, and afterwards at the 
 full, he will be equally curious to understand 
 the cause of this changeable appearance ; 
 and this is a disposition which ought to be 
 
296 To shun an idle [Part hi. 
 
 encouraged, and, as far as possible, to be 
 gratified. As his reason advances, and he 
 is able to take a more extensive view of 
 nature, he may be prompted, by the same 
 inquisitive temper, to carry his researches 
 into the vegetable, the animal, or the mine- 
 ral kingdoms ; he may endeavour to analyse 
 the air, and, ascending above the atmos- 
 phere, to determine the laws of the pla- 
 netary revolutions, and to explore the starry 
 regions. And provided this excursive cu- 
 riosity be regulated by those just rules of 
 philosophy laid down by Bacon, and above 
 all, by a regard to the divine will, which 
 ought undoubtedly to direct and limit all 
 our pursuits, it is both rational and laudable; 
 it may subserve many useful purposes of life, 
 and manifest the glory of the Creator, whose 
 works are great and admirable, and ''sought 
 out * of all them that have pleasure there- 
 in f." 
 
 2. Our vioral situation is an object of still 
 more important and rational curiosity. To 
 know the things around us in their natural 
 
 * p'u;m qui^sita. t Ps^I. cxi. 8, 
 
Rule hi.] political Cnriositi/. 297 
 
 virtues and properties, may indeed contri- 
 bute to our present use and convenience ; 
 but to know them morallv, or as they infer 
 certain duties and obhgations on our part, 
 is a point of far greater concernment ; as it 
 bears an immediate respect to our real and 
 final happiness. This ought therefore to 
 call forth our most diligent and critical in- 
 vestigation ; which, in order to be success- 
 ful, must first proceed in an ascending scale 
 from the creature to the Creator, whose will, 
 informed bj- his wisdom, is tliat which renders 
 binding and obligatory upon us, what before 
 at most could only be discerned to be fit and 
 congruous. In this w^ay may some know- 
 ledge be obtained of the obligations we are 
 under both towards God and man. But as 
 nature alone fails to give us any full or clear 
 information even of our duty ; and fails still 
 more to afford us any solid ground on which 
 to build our future hopes and expectations ; 
 we must be content, after all our philoso- 
 phic efforts, to have recourse to the page 
 of revelation ; we must search the scriptures*, 
 
 * John V. 39. *^E^EvvciT£ rcc; yQuOkg. — In voce f^fuvr; 
 
298 To shun an idle [Part hi. 
 
 examine, trace, and narrowly inA^estigate 
 these divine records, since in them we have 
 eternal life. Here all our curiosity should 
 be awakened, and here it is most apt to 
 slumber * ; for however men may be stimu- 
 lated to seek after God in his works of na- 
 ture and providence, the number is com- 
 paratively few of those who humbly and 
 obediently seek him in his word ; though it 
 is by this only that he has manifested him- 
 self in a manner proportioned to our weak- 
 ness, and consolatory to our fears and our 
 necessities. 
 
 3. We proceed now to consider how far 
 our political situation is an object of legiti- 
 mate inquiry and laudable curiosity ; after • 
 which, the way will be open for a few re- 
 marks on that idle humour noted in the 
 title of this section, and which it is the 
 
 quidam statuunt metaphoram a canum sagacitate sump- 
 tam, ut significet sagaciter aliqiiid inquirere, atque e 
 latebris eruere ; sed praestat a metallis metaphoram 
 ductam dicere.'* Leigh's Crii. Sacra, 
 
 * "Non libet rectius suspicari, non libet propius expe- 
 riri; hic tantiimcuriositashumanatorpescit.'* Tertul. 
 ApoL cap. 1. 
 
Rule hi.] political Curiosity, 299 
 
 part of every good citizen carefully to 
 avoid. 
 
 (1.) An inquiry into our political situa- 
 tion is both allowable and necessary, inas- 
 much as a considerable part of our conduct 
 ought to be regulated by the law of the 
 land in which our lot is cast. It is this law 
 which constitutes many of the duties that 
 we owe to our country, to our prince, and 
 to our fellow-citizens; and, consequently, 
 without a degree of attention paid to it, we 
 must be in continual dansfer of violating 
 those constituted duties, notwithstanding 
 our real inclination to discharge them. 
 Hence arises the obligation we are under to 
 acquaint ourselves wnth the political, as well 
 as with the moral and natural, circumstances 
 in which we are placed. 
 
 (2.) In the next place, This inquiry, be- 
 sides being enforced by duty, is a matter of 
 laudable curiosity. Every product of human 
 ingenuity, if at all useful, is something to 
 be examined and admired ; the structure of 
 a building, furnished with all suitable offices 
 and apartments for the accommodation of 
 a numerous houshold ; or the firame oi"> one 
 
300 To shun an idle [Part hi. 
 
 of those floating edifices, which are equally- 
 fitted to brave the elements, to repel a hos- 
 tile attack, and to convey our merchandize 
 to the remotest regions, is a production of ; 
 this nature. How much more then must 
 the fabric of a state, if accommodated to 
 the wants, the conveniences, and the pro- 
 tection of everv order of its citizens, be an 
 object of curious inquisition, and rational 
 admiration ! 
 
 (3.) Further : As there never probably 
 existed a political constitution which was 
 more justly an object of such regard, than 
 that of our own countrv, it must be contem- 
 plated with peculiar interest by every true 
 Briton, both in its origin and through every 
 stage of its progress. He wJll be delighted to 
 discover its gradual dawn among our British 
 and Saxon ancestors, till it broke forth with 
 a degree of lustre under the auspices of the 
 justly-renowned Alfred ; many of whose 
 institutions remain with little variation to 
 this day ; and having regretted for a mo- 
 ment its interruption by the Danes, he will 
 gratulate its return with increased bright- 
 ness, in the reigns of Edgar and of Edward 
 
Rule hi.] political Curiosity, 301 
 
 the Confessor. Again : After suffering al- 
 most a total eclipse by the Norman con- 
 quest, he will welcome its re-appearance 
 under Henry the First, its rapid advance 
 in the reign of John, by the grant o( magna 
 charta, and its arrival almost to the point of 
 juridical perfection under our English Jus- 
 tinian, the first Edward. After a long inter- 
 val of foreign and civil wars, he will note, in 
 the great event of the reformation, one of the 
 chief causes of its subsequent progress, not- 
 withstanding the tyrannic stretches of power 
 by Henry the Eighth, and some of his suc- 
 cessors. Under the house of Stuart, amidst 
 all the violent contentions between royal 
 prerogative and the privilegesof the people, 
 he will admire the same steady progression 
 of our political sj-stem, till he is brought 
 to that happy period, when all those into- 
 lerable grievances introduced by the Nor- 
 mans were removed, military tenures abo- 
 iished, property secured, personal liberty 
 established, and especially that liberty which 
 IS to be prized beyond every other, liberty 
 of conscience ; and the whole clearly ac- 
 knowledged and solemnly confirmed by the 
 
302 To shun an idle [Part hi. [ 
 
 unanimous and voluntary act of prince and \ 
 people, at the era of the revokition. All | 
 this to a patriot citizen must be almost con- j 
 secrated ground, which he will pass over j 
 with a kind of enthusiastic rapture; andlj 
 after he has contemplated our invaluable i| 
 constitution in its rise and progress to its pre-i 
 sent high degree of improvement, he willli: 
 devoutly exclaim, hke father Paul respect- 
 ing the state of Venice, Ksto perpetua, 
 
 (4.) Nor is political curiosity to be con- 
 fined to a mere abstract research into the?l 
 
 I 
 
 constitution and laws ; it may also be laud*--! 
 ably extended to the actual administration! 
 of public affairs. Peers of the realm, who) 
 may be considered as its natural and here- 
 ditary guardians, are under particular obli- 
 gation to watch over the conduct of those? 
 who are entrusted with the executive parti, 
 of the government ; lest by their negligence,' 
 their malversation, or their incapacity, thee 
 commonweal should receive anj^ detriment. 
 The same duty is evidently no less incum-i 
 bent on the representatives of the people;; 
 who are chosen, not only to enact laws,;] 
 but also to see to their execution ; and tq 
 
Rule in.] political Curiositi/, 303 
 
 restrain or correct the exorbitances of the 
 other branches of the constitution. Nor is 
 the private individual altogether exempted 
 from this public vigilance, according to his 
 rank and influence in the community ; since 
 every citizen, in proportion to his ability, 
 is bound studiously to promote the good of 
 his countrv. 
 
 The above remarks on a laudable politi- 
 cal curiosity, may help us to detect its 
 counterfeit, which is so very common in 
 the world, and which it is the part of a good 
 citizen carefully to avoid, both from a re- 
 gard to himself and others; as it tends 
 neither to the improvement of his own 
 mind ; to the regulation of his conduct ; to 
 the public good ; nor even to his innocent 
 amusement. These are the negative cha- 
 racters that, when in conjunction, though 
 not separately, mark the unprofitable and 
 often dangerous quality which is here meant 
 to be reprobated. We shall just touch upon 
 them in the order now stated. 
 
 1. That much of what passes in the 
 world under the name of politics has no 
 tendency to promote intellectual improve- 
 
304 To shun an idle [Part in, 
 
 ment, is too obvious to need any formal 
 proof. It is a fact of which every man 
 must be conscious by his experience ; and 
 the reason is not difficult to be assigned. 
 In a general view, indeed, or so far as it 
 respects the law of nature, or municipal 
 law as grounded upon it, politics is doubt- 
 less a study which, beyond most others, is 
 suited both to invigorate and enlarge the 
 human faculties, and prepare them for the 
 noblest exercise. But in this view it is not 
 often an object of curiosit}^ or attention. 
 It is rarely extended, as we all know, be- 
 yond the actual administration of affairs, 
 which cannot be supposed to yield much 1 
 light or assistance towards the improvement \ 
 now in question. What accession of wis- 
 dom is to be expected by prying into the 
 cabinet, by discovering that such an expe- i 
 dition is on the tapis, that such a negotia- t 
 tion is in design or in train, or that such 
 financial or commercial plans are in agita- ii 
 tion? Which, with a thousand similar pro- 
 jects, of whatever use they may be in other i( 
 respects, can certainly supply but very slen- 
 
 der food to a man's understanding. And if ^ 
 
 \ 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
IftjLEiii.] political Curiositi/. 30.^ 
 
 this be the case of great public measures, 
 we cannot expect much more light and im- 
 provement from a curious investigation of 
 state factions, court intrigues, or party con- 
 tentions. 
 
 2. Nor does a spirit of ordinary politics, 
 at least in one whose lot is cast amoner the 
 lower orders of societv, contribute more 
 to regulate the conduct than to improve the 
 understanding. To pursue a general ac- 
 quaintance with our foreign relations, or 
 with the state of parties at home, can sup- 
 ply a common tradesman or mechanic with 
 few rules that may direct him how to behave 
 himself in his family, in his shop, in the 
 market, to his friends, or to his enemies. 
 And if it contribute little to the knowledge 
 of his ordinary duties, it contributes still 
 less to their performance. While he is 
 studying the pamphlet of the day, or saun- 
 tering in the coffee-house ; while he is can- 
 vassing, correcting, or applauding the mea- 
 sures of administration, or of their oppo- 
 nents ; or settling the balance of Europe ; 
 his family is in disorder, his business is necr- 
 lected, his circumstances become embar- 
 
 X 
 
300 To shun an idle [Part in. 
 
 rassecl, and, before he is aware, perhaps | 
 he is on the edge of bankruptcy. And I 
 although only some of these consequences, i 
 
 i 
 
 or none of them, should follow, still his j 
 attention is diverted from his proper con- | 
 cerns ; he is led to overlook the duties of the 
 station assigned him in the community, 
 and, by his endeavours to become a patriot, 
 or to be so accounted, he only shows or ren- 
 ders himself a bad citizen. 
 
 3, Again : A spirit of politics in the 
 mass of a people, whose subsistence must \ 
 depend on their daily business, is likely to| 
 contribute as little to the pubhc benefit, as [ 
 to their own. Persons in such circum-i 
 stances, cannot be supposed to possess thati 
 disengagement and liberty of mind, or thosej 
 just and comprehensive views, which areJj 
 necessary to judge soundly of the true in-l( 
 terest of a nation, or of the best methods'f(fi 
 to promote it. To do this, a liberal educai 
 tion, and a considerable freedom from pro- 
 fessional duties, are evidently reqfuired 
 and these are advantages which properlj;] 
 belong to the nobility and gentry of a couniLj^ 
 try. It is this superior order of citizens, whiij 
 
Rule hi. J political Curiosity, ^^ ^SW 
 
 from the independency of their situation, 
 and their detachment from the subordinate 
 occupations of society, may be supposed 
 best qualified to determine and act wisely 
 for the good of the whole ; like the Athe- 
 nian general Iphicrates, who w^as neither 
 an archer or a targeteer, a trooper or a 
 foot-soldier, but one who knew how to com- 
 mand, and make use of them all *. And 
 without a like disengagement from par- 
 ticular professions, those especially which 
 are accounted less liberal, there is small 
 probability of being able, either to form 
 plans of public utility, or properly to esti- 
 mate them when formed by others. 
 
 4. The last character of the curiosity 
 here meant to be censured is, that it fails to 
 yield even an innocent amusement, which, 
 from whatever source derived, ought to be 
 treated neither with severity nor indifFer- 
 
 * " The General Iphicrates, when Callias, the son 
 of Cabrias, asked him, What art thou ? art thou an 
 archer, or a targeteer, a trooper, or a foot-soldier? 
 answered well, I am none of these, but one who com- 
 mands them all." Plutarch's Morals. 
 
 x2 
 
308 . To slum an idle [Part lu, 
 
 ence. The world is fall of care, and can 
 afford no abatement of any harmless satis- 
 faction ; nor is it to be denied, that a man 
 may entertain himself with a newspaper or 
 a political pamphlet, without violating any 
 law of religion or morality, or any duty of 
 social or civil life. The evil only is, and 
 which we fear is common, when such an 
 amusement takes up too much time, dissi- 
 pates, or unduly agitates the mind, gene- 
 rates ill-temper, or unfits a man for a better' 
 world. 
 
 That much time i'S employed upon poli*j 
 tical topics every one must be sensible..' 
 The spirit of the old Athenians, who speMt 
 their days in nothing else but either to telll 
 or to hear some neio tiling^, (xcciyo]spov, thai" 
 newest, or, as we should now sav, the latesti 
 intelligence) still continues in full vigour. 
 On every side we see multitudes. 
 
 Whoe'er on wing with open throats |[ 
 
 Fly at debates, expresses, votes. 
 Just in the manner swallows use, 
 Catching their airy food of news : 
 
 C( 
 
 * Acts, xvili. 21. lllif 
 
 0{ 
 
Rule hi.] political Curiositi/, 309 
 
 'Which, to him who seriously considers the 
 importance of time, and that on the use we 
 make of it hangs all our future hopes and 
 expectations, must afford matter of melan- 
 choly reflection; especially in respect of 
 those who have but little time at their com- 
 mand, and who spend it in a manner so 
 unprofitable both to themselves and to those 
 around them. Such an amusement, if so 
 it must be accounted, is one surely which is 
 accompanied with no small degree of folly 
 and criminalitv. 
 
 Again : It is a character of legitimate 
 amusement, that it prepares, or, at least, 
 that it does not disqualify a man for a return 
 to his serious duties. It must, therefore, be 
 sonietliinGf which is suited to collect and 
 quiet, and not to scatter and dissipate the 
 spirits. When by this rule we examine our 
 \u[^'diV politics, we find them not of a quality 
 to stand the trial, as beino-sinmilarly hostile 
 to composure and recollection. While a 
 common newsmonger is at his desk, or be- 
 hind his counter; at the anvil, or in the 
 field; his thoughts are rambling to the ends 
 of the earth ; he is watching the wind, and 
 
310 To shim an idle [Part in. ' 
 
 looking out with solicitude for the next mail, j 
 that may bring him intelligence of the poli- , 
 tics and projects agitated at Paris, or at j 
 Petersburghy at Vienna^ or at Constantinople; ; 
 or of the event of some war or negotiation, ' 
 perhaps in the East or West Indies : objects ! 
 indeed which may laudably engage the at- ' 
 tention of a statesman, as thev relate to his 
 office; or of others who enjoy much leisure, , 
 together with a degree of public influence ; | 
 but to a man who takes them up merely for 1 
 amusement, and to the neglect of his pro- ;• 
 per calling, they can, at best, only prove a i 
 source of idle dissipation and unprofitable 
 anxiety. 
 
 Further: A third unhappy consequence 
 of a meddling political curiosity is, that it 
 generates ill temper. Those who are ever 
 prying into the character and quality i 
 of public men and measures, easily con- 
 tract a captious and quarrelsome spirit 
 that can be satisfied with nothing ; every 
 man is incompetent or knavish, and every 
 measure absurd or pernicious. This spirit;' 
 usually springs out of vanity, presumption, i 
 or malignity, (passions rooted in our com-' 
 
 
Rule hi.] poUikal Curmiiy, 3 1 \ 
 
 luon nature) and sometimes from all of 
 them in conjunction. From the first, since 
 to criticise and censure others, those especi- 
 ally who are of rank or eminence in the state, 
 seems to argue a superiority of i)arts and 
 character, which is a distinction that, of all 
 others, is most flattering to vanity. From 
 the second, hecause, as nearly allied to 
 vanity, it affects a like pre-eminence ; and 
 because too it is heady and violent, impa- 
 tient of inquirj% apt to fasten uix)n single 
 circumstances, and consequently prone to 
 judge and condemn without a proper know- 
 ledge of the cause, and without that respect 
 to persons and things to which they are en- 
 titled. And from the third, because it is of 
 the very nature of malignity to be captious 
 and hostile, to disparage whatever is excel- 
 lent or eminent, and to aggravate every 
 fault or imperfection. From the three, 
 therefore, in conjunction, and operating 
 within the sphere of vulgar politics, where 
 they cannot fail to be powerfully exerted, 
 and called forth into full activitv, the con- 
 tentious and dissocial spirit of which we are 
 
312 To shun an idle [Part hi. 
 
 here speaking, must proceed with increased 
 vehemence. 
 
 Finally : The last and worst consequence 
 of this spirit is its unhappy influence on a 
 man's future interest. It devours that time 
 which is necessary to secure it; it diverts 
 that attention without which it can never 
 be prosecuted with effect; and it goes to 
 form that character which is utterly incon- 
 sistent with the felicity of a future state. 
 Amidst the serenity of the heavenly regions, 
 there can be no place for those unquiet 
 tempers, those malevolent dispositions, or 
 those turbulent passions, which so often 
 deform our low political atmosphere. The 
 censures of vanity, of presumption, or ma- 
 lignity, are for ever banished thence, with 
 all those who indulge them ; which, if no 
 other consideration prevailed, should be suf. 
 ficient to check a curiosity, that, besides 
 its unfavourable aspect on his present com- 
 fort, so much endangers a man's final hap- 
 piness. 
 
 There are only two things (as some have 
 well observed) that are necessary for any 
 
Rule hi.] political Curiosity. 313 
 
 one to know, «ind these demand his most 
 inquisitive and diligent search, namely, 
 religion, and his own business; with this 
 knowledge he may come to act both the 
 part of a good man and of a good citizen ; 
 without it, he must certainly fail in one of 
 them, and may perhaps fail in both. 
 
 II. On the second part of the rule now 
 before us, namely. Not to admit a disposi- 
 (ion to hunt after small or zaiknoxvn grievances, 
 the following general remark may be suf- 
 cient. 
 
 To live contentedly under the best go- 
 vernment, it is necessary not to go curiously 
 in search of mischief; hke certain patriots 
 belonging to a httle German state, who 
 some years ago, as I remember, beset the 
 court with their clamours, and upon being 
 asked what grievances they laboured under, 
 made answer, " None that thev knew of; 
 but that as some such might exist, they 
 came to search after them.'* Men that will 
 thus go in quest of trouble, deserve to find 
 it; and in a world such as this, they seldom 
 peed to go far without meeting with what 
 
314 To shun an idle [Partiii. ' 
 
 they seek. A prudent man will be other- j 
 wise minded ; if he enjoy at present his 
 liberty and property, he will not idly tor- | 
 ment himself with imaginations of dangers ' 
 he does not see, or of distresses that he ' 
 does not feel ; and will leave it to the pub- ' 
 lie guardians to w^atch against evils that are ' 
 too remote for his optics : and should they 
 even come home to his sense and feeling, , 
 he will be careful not to aggravate them, | 
 or rashly to charge them upon those at the 1 
 helm of affairs; remembering that it is the 
 lot of human life to suffer under innumera- ' 
 ble calamities, in spite of all human pre- 
 caution or vigilance. 
 
 It is the misfortune of some men to reap 
 no other fruit from their patriotism tham 
 their own fears and jealousies. The national I 
 credit is in danger, trade is declining, foreign i; 
 nations are conspiring against us, or some' 
 dreadful plot is hatching at home against: 
 our rights and liberties; though they see 
 every man going his own w^a}^ and acting. 
 / as his interest or his pleasure dictates, and! 
 every market crowded with wares andi 
 customers. Should it be said, these are no 
 
Rule hi.] political Curiosity, 315 
 
 infallible signs of national prosperity, — at 
 least it must be allowed that they are no in- 
 fallible signs of approaching beggary and 
 chains: and while any hopeful symptoms 
 remain, a true patriot W'ill augur well of 
 his country. 
 
( 316 ) .[Part in. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 A fourth Rule to be observed by a good 
 Citizen, is. To beware of any unnecessary or 
 hasty Attachmenfy and still more of a blind 
 Devotion to any Party whatever, either in 
 Politics or Religion *. 
 
 A CONSIDERABLE portioii of everj nation 
 consists of those, who, from the necessity 
 they are under to earn their bread bv daily 
 labour, have no leisure to attend to the 
 general interests of the coimnunity ; and, 
 if they had, are without sufficient ability to 
 understand, or influence to pn^mote them. 
 The only way in which it is possible for this 
 numerous class of citizen*> to serve their 
 country, is by a faithful and diligent appli- 
 
 * By a party is here meant, any body of men, the 
 chief design of whose association is the public good ; 
 when this design is changed for some other of private 
 interest or ambition, the party then becomes a faction. 
 
Rule iv.] To beware of Parlij, S(c, 317 
 
 cation to the duties of their peculiar calHni^'. 
 Another portion consists of" those who vokui- 
 tarily withdraw thenisehes from puhlic 
 affairs, either, as supposing there is no need 
 of their interference; or from a love of re- 
 tirement; or from a predominant pursuit 
 of some particular object ; or as reserving 
 themselves for occasions of special service ; 
 and the ])ropriet\^ of their conduct depends 
 on the justness of the views and principles 
 by which they are severalty determined. 
 A third portion (which in this country I liope 
 is not very numerous) is made up of the 
 idle, the curious, the pragmatical, or the 
 factious citizens ; not unlike those whom 
 We have endeavoured to describe in the 
 last section. 
 
 The citizen to whom the present rule 
 is directed, belongs to none of these classes. 
 He is one who has leisure and influence ; 
 and wdio takes an honest as well as active 
 interest in whatever relates to the general 
 welfare. This is the citizen we wish to 
 guard against the dangers stated in the title 
 of this section ; and whom we shall con- 
 sider under the two following characters : 
 
318 To beware of [Part hi. 
 
 Either, first, as one whose superior talents 
 and established reputation, enable him to 
 co-operate occasionally with every party ; 
 and, when he sees fit, to act independently 
 of them all. Or, secondly, as one who 
 needs the regular aid and encouragement 
 to be derived from an associated body, in 
 order to bear him up in his public conduct, 
 and to render his endeavours efficient. 
 
 I. There are in every age a few distin- 
 guished men, who, by the eminency of 
 their virtues and talents, are formed to 
 stand alone, and to act their own part with 
 a noble spirit of independence; who, by 
 the superiority of their views, are able to 
 judge of all parties, and by their inflexible 
 integrity and true patriotism, to unite with 
 none of them further than the public good 
 may require; and whose reputation is so 
 well established, that, without suffering from 
 any charge of weakness or duplicity, they 
 can thus by turns co-operate with men of 
 very different descriptions. They can vote 
 to-day with the court, and to-morrow with 
 the opposition ; join with the whigs on one 
 
KuLE IV.] Parh/'AuacInncn(3. ^119 
 
 occasion, and ^^itll the iories on another; 
 and still retain their place in the favourable 
 opinion of their country *. 
 
 For any man who is capable of sustain- 
 ing such a character to enlist in a party, 
 would certainly be degrading to himself^ 
 and might prove injurious to his country ; 
 which it is probable he could never serve so 
 eftectually, as when, by extendhig his care 
 to all parties, he moderated the violence of 
 one, softened the prejudices of another, ex- 
 cited and directed the efforts of a third, 
 
 - Perhaps, in our own times, no man has approached 
 nearer to this character than that eminent and disin- 
 terested patriot, the late Sir George Savile, Bart, to 
 whom the writer of these lines is indebted for the leisure 
 he enjoys ; and to whose public and private virtues he 
 gladly embraces this opportunity of offering his small 
 tribute. 
 
 The following anecdote may show in how high esti- 
 mation this distinguished senator was held for his politi- 
 cal integrity. — When the Marquis of Rockingham was 
 placed at the head of administration ; upon being con- 
 gratulated on the support he might expect from such a 
 friend as Sir George in the house of commons, he re- 
 plied, ** Sir, I doubt not of his support so long as I con- 
 tinue to act for the good of my country ; should I do- 
 otherwise, he would be the first man to impeach mc." 
 
 
I 
 
 520 To beware of [Part lit, 
 
 allayed their mutual animosities, and caused 
 a variety of jarring passions and interests | 
 to conspire to the good of the whole. Even 
 at the head of a ruling party, he might be 
 less able to promote the common welfare, 
 than by his acting more at a distance in the 
 mild and conciliating character of a general 
 moderator. 
 
 II. To a citizen of the second descrip- 
 tion, (which comprehends a class much more 
 numerous) who is disposed to take a part in 
 public affairs, but is only qualified to act in 
 concert with others ; I would suggest a few 
 obvious rules, which may be of use to di- 
 rect him in his public conduct. 
 
 1. Let him be wary in his choice of a 
 party. Let it be one which, among its 
 other good properties, is disinterested in its 
 views, modest in its professions, and tem- 
 perate in its measures. 
 
 (L) Disinterested in its vieivs ; that is, as 
 much so as can be expected from such im- 
 perfect beings as men ; from whom, if on 
 the whole they prefer the general interest 
 to their own, it is vain to look for more. 
 
KuLE iV.] Piirti/'AttaChvienis. 321 
 
 This is true ot* every man separately, and 
 liolds.:yct more strongly when they are 
 United in a body, where the selfish passions 
 act with, less restraint, either from duty, 
 lear, or shame. Should our weD-meaninii' 
 citizen nlistake in this first point, instead of 
 a party he would embrace a faction ; and, 
 under a notion of public good, might be 
 made an instrument of mischief or of ruin 
 to his countrv. 
 
 (2.) Modest in its professions. When a 
 j)arty holds out large and magnificent pro- 
 mises, it is commonly a sure proof, either 
 of its weakness, or of its bad designs; either 
 that it is the dupe of its own vain presump- 
 tion, or means to practise on the credulous 
 simplicity of the vulgar. Should it say, 
 adv ance us into power, and every evil shall 
 find a remedy, poverty and toil, misery 
 and oppression shall soon vanish out of the 
 land, every virtue and talent shall meet 
 with their honourable reward, and every 
 vice with its merited pmiishment ; it might 
 as well tell us, that our oaks shall distil with 
 honey, and the rocks pour out rivers of oil. 
 Or should it pretend to a purity of princi- 
 
 I 
 
322 To beware of [Part nr. 
 
 pie that admitted of no taint, that was in-^, 
 capable of any bias or perversion from pri-l 
 vate interests or affections; we must stilll 
 be compelled to draw the same inference.! 
 Such promises and pretensions have beenj 
 often employed to amuse and delude thej 
 populace in past times, and perhaps never^ 
 more successfully or mischievously than in 
 our own ; which should put every good citi- 
 zen upon his guard against them, and dis-; 
 pose him to listen or unite himself only to, 
 such modest and unassuming men, who in- 
 vite his confidence more by their perform-; 
 ances than their professions. 'i 
 
 (3.) Temperate vi its vieasures. As there;; 
 are individuals in private life, so there are 
 parties in the state, that are fair-spoken,, 
 vet violent in their conduct. laW^e-^irneon. 
 and Levi in their carriage towards the 
 Shechemites, they will speak peace, and me-^ 
 ditate war * ; or hke a famous body of mem 
 in our own land, under the reign of the 
 first Charles ; tliey will respectfully use the? 
 king's name, in opposition to his person and! 
 
 * Gen. ch. xxxiv. 
 
Rule iv.] Party- Attaduncnts, 323 
 
 TOVcrnment. Whether this last was a war- 
 rantable measure, or wliether such extreme 
 measures are in all cases to be condemned, 
 is not here the question : certainlj^, in the 
 fh'st instance, they constitute a most legiti- 
 mate prejudice against any party; and of 
 such violent confederacies every prudent 
 citizen will be disposed to say with good 
 old Jacob respecting his two sons above- 
 mentioned, My soul come not thou into their 
 secret; nnto their assembly, mine honour, be 
 not thou united, A firm and enlightened 
 moderation is an essential character of true 
 patriotism : and it is around this standard 
 that every man should rally, who wishes to 
 conduct himself as a true fi'iend to his coun- 
 try. ^>. 
 
 2. Another rule I would suggest is. Not 
 lightly to desert or to change a party after it has 
 been once chosen, 
 
 (1.) When a well-meaning man joins 
 himself to any party in the state, it implies 
 his favourable opinion of its tendency to 
 promote the public good. Should he after- 
 wards withdraw his support, it would seem 
 
 Y 2 
 
 I 
 
3M To beware of [Part hi. 
 
 to imply tliat his opinion was changed, or, 
 at least, that it was become less favourable. 
 Again, should he proceed to engage himself 
 m a different party, it w'ould still further 
 tend to throw disgrace on the former ; and, 
 without clear and satisfactorv^ reasons for his 
 conduct, there would be some ground to 
 complain of his injustice towards his first 
 associates, if not likewise of his injustice 
 towards the public, by transferring his cre- 
 dit and assistance to those who might be less 
 disposed or capable to advance the general 
 welfare. 
 
 (2.) The consideration last suggested may 
 deserve a more distinct notice. The ^vorld 
 in general is very liberal in promise, but 
 very sparing in performance. When an 
 honest citizen contemplates some patriotic 
 band at a distance, nothing can be more 
 flattering to his wishes, as nothing can ap- 
 pear more favourable to the welfare of his 
 country. Purity of })rinciple, disinterested 
 views, unanimous counsels, are the ])romi- 
 nent features which attract his attention, 
 and command his reverence ; he hastens to 
 
Rule iv.] Party-Attachments, 325 
 
 list hims(^lf under such a standard; I)nt 
 then the scene is chani'-ed. Instead of the 
 immaculate and compacted body of patriot- 
 ism which lie iiad imagined, he finds cor- 
 ruption of principle, interested views, and 
 divided counsels ; or if there be one point 
 in which the whole confederacv is a^rreed, 
 it is, to turn out the present administration, 
 and to occupy their places. Disgusted and 
 repelled by the discovery, he betakes him- 
 self to a second or a third party, where he 
 still finds the same selfish and jarring prin- 
 ciples at work, and perhaps with increased 
 depravity. All this should warn him against 
 a shifting humour, and dispose him to abide 
 hv the party in which he is already en- 
 gaged; at least not to change it for another, 
 without very strong grounds to believe that 
 he shall chanc'e for the better. 
 
 (3.) Again : A frequent change of party 
 is too much for an ordinary citizen to 
 support; it must destroy his credit with 
 every party, and also with the public at 
 large. It is onlj', as we have obser^ ed, 
 for a few eminent men, whose dignity and 
 
326 To beware of [Paet hi. 
 
 influence is from themselves, to sustain such 
 a conduct. Such men indeed can never 
 properlj' be ranked with any party, though 
 they may lend themselves occasionally to 
 all ; thev shed a lustre on others which thev 
 receive from none, and, w^iether separate 
 or associated, shine the same in their own 
 brightness. This honourable distinction the 
 common patriot should not seek to emulate; 
 he must shine with a borrowed light ; alone 
 and insulated he shines no more. It ought 
 therefore to be his business, as a public 
 man, to choose well his party ; to co-operate 
 with it in the manner which he judges most 
 conducive to the general benefit ; and never 
 to desert it upon rash or interested consi- 
 derations. Thus will he act with a degree 
 of credit to himself, and with most advan- 
 tage to his country. 
 
 3. The third rule I would suggest is, To 
 guard against the spirit of a party, 
 
 (1.) First let it be observed, that this pre- 
 caution is necessary in all parties and com- 
 munities, whether religious or civil. Each 
 has its characteristic bent or temper by 
 
 li 
 
Rule iv.] Party- Attaclwicnts. 327 
 
 which it is distinguished. In regard to reli- 
 gion, there is no church without some ten- 
 dency ;— in its government, either to laxity 
 or intolerance ; — in its ritual, to a negligent 
 indecorum, or to a superstitious nicety ; — in 
 its devotion, to warmth and enthusiasm, 
 or to coldness and indifference ; — and in its 
 doctrine, to high and overstrained notions, 
 or to mere deism and natural religion. 
 Among the regular orders of the Romish 
 church, which are so many distinct commu- 
 nities, some are prone to fanaticism, others 
 to a cruel superstitious discipline, and many 
 to a lazy mdulgence. In regard to politics, 
 (which are more immediately our subject) a 
 spirit of despotism lurks in a monarchy ; 
 of anarchy in a republic; of discord and 
 petty tyranny in an aiistocracy. Under a 
 mixed government, all these spirits are in 
 conflict, and prevail by turns. Nay, there 
 is no association in trade or manufactures, 
 in arts or science, no guild or corporation 
 without this esprit de corps, which is sure 
 to operate upon every member, according 
 to his individual character, and jiarticular 
 circumstances. 
 
328 .1 To beware of '. [Part hi. I 
 
 (2.) Another reasoa for guarding against ! 
 the spirit of which we are speaking, is, that| 
 its influence is no less powerful than it is' 
 extensive. Man is very much the product I 
 of his situation in Avhatever capacity we 
 view him, civil, religious, or literary. The 
 instances are extremely few of those who 
 rise above the genius of thein age or coun* 
 try; or even above that of the particular 
 body or society, with which they regularly 
 act or associate. Notwithstanding any small- 
 er individual differences, the family like- , 
 ness remains. The monk retains the spirit! 
 of his order, and the livervman of the 
 common-hall; not only the lawyer, the 
 physician, and divine, but also men of or- 
 dinary callings, receive a certain turn and 
 character from their several professions. 
 We. can therefore have no cause to wonder 
 if the same law extend itself over the poli- 
 tical world ; if the courtier and the patriot 
 are much the same in all ages ; and if the 
 spirit of' every state-party, like some mighty 
 vortex, bears along Avith it almost all those 
 who are placed within the sphere of its in- 
 fluence. 
 
Rule iv.] Party- Attachments, 329 
 
 (:>.) Hence may appear of how mucli 
 importance it is, for a |>ublic man to guard 
 against the spirit of the party to which he 
 belongs; since otherwise he may be sur- 
 prized into measures which he never meant 
 to countenance. Under a notion of strength- 
 ening the hands of government, and main- 
 taining social order, he may be led to in- 
 jure the sacred cause of liberty ; and, under 
 the fair pretext of supporting the rights of 
 men, and the privileges of citizens, he may 
 abridge the necessary power of government, 
 and open a door to general licence and 
 anarchy. Let him, therefore, well study 
 the genius of the party in which he is en- 
 gaged, and how he may best guard against 
 its irreccularlties. Should it be of a hioh 
 prerogative or a high church complexion ; 
 let him endeavour to correct it bv the sober 
 doctrine of the rights and privileges of the 
 people. Should it, on the other hand, have 
 a tendency towards a democratic, a repub- 
 lican, and schismatical extravagance; let 
 him try to moderate it, by insisting on the 
 necessity of a prompt and uniform submis- 
 sion to the authority of the magistrate, and 
 
330 To beware of [Part hi. 
 
 on the importance of preserving a general 
 decorum in our religious as well as civil 
 concerns, in order to the maintenance of 
 the public peace, and the advancement of 
 the commonweal. Thus, in conjunction 
 with any body of men who mean, on 
 the whole, to promote the general welfare, 
 he may acquit himself as becomes a good 
 citizen, by a seasonable support or coun- 
 teraction of its measures, and by his en- 
 deavours to correct its spirit by that of the 
 constitution, and laws, and religion of his 
 
 countrv. 
 
 A, The last rule I would suggest under 
 this head is. To act liber alli/ towards other 
 parties, 
 
 (1.) Not to impute ill designs to a parti/, 
 vierchj on account of its dissimilar it y or opposi- 
 tion to our own. There is nothing more com- 
 mon than this among all parties, though 
 nothing can be more illiberal, than to cri- 
 minate others for no better reason than be- 
 cause they pursue not the same objects, or 
 in the same way, with ourselves ; as if the 
 various position in which things are viewed 
 by difterent persons, was not perfectly; suf- 
 
Rule iv.] Partij-Aitachmcnts, 331 
 
 f icient to account for their difference of opi- 
 nion and conduct respecting them, without 
 any harsh imputation either upon their un- 
 derstixnding', or their sincerity. Nay, though 
 the declarations and conduct of a party 
 should be extremely dubious and exception- 
 able, and bear a very threatening aspect upon 
 the state; this alone would not afford any 
 infaUible indication of bad designs. Of this 
 I shall adduce two memorable examples 
 from our own history. During the period 
 between the restoration of Charles the Se- 
 cond and the revolution, the church of 
 England was so lavish in her professions of 
 passive obedience and non-resistance, as if she 
 meant to sacrifice the national liberty to 
 an ostentatious loyalty, and to her resent- 
 ments against the puritans : yet, at the eve 
 of the latter great event, when the mis- 
 guided James the Second laid claim to a 
 power of dispensing with the laws of the 
 land, in order to let in upon it a deluge of 
 popish superstition, the same church, in a 
 noble contradiction to the slavish doctrines 
 she had before so disgracefully maintained, 
 was the first to erect a standard against him. 
 
33^ To beware of [Part hi. 
 
 The second example fell under the reign of 
 the unhappy father of the above princes, 
 when the puritanic party engaged in a civil 
 war, which, through the prevalence of a 
 fanatical faction that sprang up among them, 
 at length terminated in the destruction both 
 of the king and the monarchy ; quite con- 
 trary to the design of the iirst actors, as 
 evidently appears from their conduct at the 
 time, and from the principal part they sus- 
 tained in the restoration of the monarchv, 
 by the recal of Charles the Second. Now 
 had the puritans, in the former instance, 
 charged the church party as votaries ot 
 arbitrary power; or, in the other, had 
 the church charged the puritans as deter- 
 mined republicans and sworn enemies to 
 monarchy, the event would, in either case, 
 have shown the accusation to have been 
 groundless. Both of them alike displayed, 
 in the hour of trial, their firm attachment 
 to the same glorious cause; which may 
 teach a lesson of mutual candour and mo- 
 deration to their successors at the present 
 important period; and induce them to unite 
 in every regular and constitutional eflbrt, 
 
•s 
 
 Rule iv.] Partij-AitacJinicnL^. 3.i:) 
 
 to secure and perpetuate, to the latest pus- 
 
 _ teritv, llie laws, and liberties, and religion ul' 
 if 
 
 their countrv. 
 
 *(i.) It is not enough to forbear any false bn- 
 piitatiuns upon a conlranj parti/, icitlwut a rea- 
 dincss to bestow that just praise uiiic/i belongs to 
 it, or to any of its disiinguisJied individuals, 
 I'here is scarce any party without some 
 laudable property? and this pro])erty agood 
 citizen will cheerfully recognize, though it 
 should be found on the side oj)posite to his 
 own. It is laudable to guard against demo- 
 cratic licence and disorder; and this pre- 
 caution he will readily commend, though 
 he should be one of a po[)ular jjarty ; and 
 iiot severely condemn, though it should be 
 extended beyond what tiie occasion might 
 require. It is also laudable to w^atch against 
 
 • the tyranny of rulers ; and this jealousy lie 
 will also mark with his approbation, and 
 not riii'orously censiu-e, thoui>h it should 
 be carried to some excess. Further, W^hen- 
 ever more than ordinary virtues and talents 
 display themselves in an opposite party, 
 (and he must be very partial to his own 
 side not to suppose that this may often be 
 
33A To beware of [Part in. 
 
 the case) he will be among the foremost 
 to acknowledge them ; to drop a tear over 
 a Falkland, or to pay all due honour to the 
 invincible love of liberty, and to the other 
 eminent parts and accomplishments of a 
 Hampden, 
 
 (3.) Lastly : It is the property of a good 
 citizen to allay animosities, and to promote an 
 amicable intercourse, amoAg different parties. 
 To unite them all in one body, would sel- 
 dom be practicable ; and, if practicable, 
 would not perhaps be desirable in the pre- 
 sent state of human nature. Brought into 
 such near approach, their repulsive powers 
 would act witli redoubled force, and pro- 
 bably cast them at a still greater distance 
 from" each other than they were before. 
 All, therefore, that can reasonably be pro- 
 posed is, to guard them against a perverse 
 opposition in points wherein they differ, 
 and dispose them to mutual assistance in 
 those wherein they are agreed ; that so, 
 instead of indulging a spirit of hostility, 
 they might afford ready succour to each 
 other in distress, and cordially co-operate 
 against the common enemy. Thus, by 
 
Rule iv.] Party-Attachment.'^. 33^) 
 
 by their combined eflbrts, court and coun- 
 try, churchmen and dissenters, might more 
 effectually promote the common cause of 
 order, liberty, and true rehgion ; and op- 
 pose a more powerful barrier against the in- 
 roads of sedition and tyranny, of fanaticism 
 and superstition. 
 
( a36 ) [PartiiI. 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 The last general Rule we propose as proper 
 to be observed by a good Citizen is, 
 Never forwardly to in^ge his public Clai?ns or 
 Pretensions, nor beyond ivhat the conwion 
 Good may require ; and xvhen this, on the 
 Whole, is provided for, to rest satisfied in the 
 quiet and faithful Discharge of the Duties 
 of his present Station, 
 
 As it is one character of a good man to 
 endeavour to merit praise, but not to chal- 
 lenge it; so it is of a good citizen, to exert 
 himself for the benefit of his countrv, but 
 not forwardly to demand his reward in a 
 participation of public honours or offices ; 
 which indeed, if offered, he Avill receive 
 with gratitude, or decline with modesty ; 
 if withheld, though it may cost him a mo- 
 mentary displeasure, he will give place to 
 no unmanly complaints or secret resent- 
 ments. He will still cherish in himself a 
 
Rule v.] To he modest, S(c, 337 
 
 disposition to repeat his efforts for the pub- 
 lic good, and to seek his recompense in the 
 consciousness of well-doing. 
 
 He, therefore, is no good citizen, or he 
 is one of the lower order, who is eager to 
 urge his claims to public favour or reward. 
 For however his claims may be just, and 
 such as he ought not entirely to forego, still 
 it becomes him to prefer them with modesty, 
 in due time and place, without any exag- 
 geration of his merits, and as one who is 
 sensible, that virtue, if at all it deserve the 
 name, though it must ever need the allow- 
 ance of heaven, is something beyond all 
 human remuneration, 
 t But without dwelling on this general 
 view, let us descend to a few more particu- 
 lar reflections on the subject. 
 
 The public claims of a citizen must be 
 grounded either on the constitution or laws 
 of his country ; on his own personal cha- 
 racter; or on the natural rights of man. 
 The first of these cases, as it scarcely falls 
 within our present subject, we shall dismiss 
 very briefly ; on the two latter we shall de- 
 tain the reader a moment longer. 
 
 z 
 
338 To be modest in public [Part hi. 
 
 1 . Those public claims, which are ground- 
 ed on the constitution and laws of the state, 
 a citizen may seem most at liberty to pro- 
 secute. Should he possess some dormant 
 title to nobility, he may laudably avail him- 
 self of his right, and assume his rank in the 
 peerage, provided it be assumed from a pure 
 motive, and with a reasonable prospect of 
 extending his sphere of public service ; 
 otherwise, should he seek this elevation 
 from an impulse of vanity, and with a pro- 
 bability of diminished usefulness, he would 
 then act the part of a weak or of a bad 
 member of the community. Again : should 
 it be some public official situation to which a 
 citizen is legally entitled, and in which he 
 might usefully serve his country, while at 
 the same time it afforded him the means of 
 his own comfortable subsistence ; every one 
 must approve of his prosecuting a claim 
 under circumstances so highly just and 
 honourable. In these and many other 
 cases which might be supposed, a good 
 citizen may step forth and assert his poli- 
 tical privileges, with the full countenance 
 and approbation of his country, or at 
 
R ULE v.] Claims or Pretensions. \c> 3S9" '^''- ' 
 
 least without any danger of incurring fts 
 censure. > : 
 
 2. We have next to consider those claims, 
 or rather pretensions, that are grounded on 
 personal character; and particularly on a 
 man's honest intentions and abihties to serve 
 his country. Such pretensions a good and 
 prudent citizen will not be eager to bring for- 
 ward, and for the following, among other 
 reasons. 
 
 (1.) Because whatever his honesty may 
 be, he feels it is too imperfect and assailable 
 to permit him to be proud or to make a 
 boast of it ; and however considerable may 
 be his abilities, he is sensible they must often 
 be found unequal to the intricacy and exi- 
 genc}^ of affairs. Besides, his character for 
 parts and integrity is either already esta- \ 
 
 blished, or it is not ; if the former, he has 
 no need eagerly to display it himself; and, 
 if the latter, such ostentation, though it 
 may take with the populace, will not help 
 to recommend him to the countenance and 
 esteem of the more discerning citizens, who 
 are aware, that men of suspicious character 
 are most apt to boast of their probity, and 
 
 z 2 
 
340 To be Jitodest in public [Part hi. 
 
 that showy and superficial wits are the rea- 
 diest to trumpet their extraordinary parts 
 and abihties. This caution as^ainst an osten- 
 tatious humour was perhaps never more 
 necessary than at present, Avhen, among 
 the numbers who step forward to proclaim 
 their own merits, there are found some men 
 of undoubted sense and understanding, and 
 we may hope also of general integrity; 
 who, if they fall short of the great Roman 
 orator in genius, learning, and eloquence, 
 may, at least, be allow^ed to surpass him 
 in the faculty of which we are speaking, 
 and in which too, he w^as so pre-eminent. 
 Such authorities, however, should be so far 
 from w^eighing with a sober citizen in favour 
 of this vaunting disposition, which he must 
 have observed to be generally followed with 
 miscarriage and dishonour ; that they should 
 rather serve to confirm him more strongl}-' 
 in the salutary opinion, that modesty, as 
 well as honesty, is, on the whole, the best 
 policy. 
 
 (2.) Another reason against a forwardness 
 to advance public pretensions founded on 
 personal quaHties, is the difficulty of ascer- 
 
1 
 
 Rule v.] Claims or Pretensions, ,S41 
 
 tainiiig their value. Though a man's lio- 
 iiesty and capacity maj^ in general be ac- 
 knowledged, the particular degree of these 
 qualities, or whether they are such as may 
 entitle him to some specific rank or office 
 in the state, may be matter of various opi- 
 nion. Hence it becomes a good citizen to 
 be reserved and modest in his estimate of 
 his own merits ; and not hastilj^ to suppose 
 himself injured, though they should not be 
 admitted to the extent at which he had 
 rated them. Even though he should be 
 appointed by his country to some station 
 manifestly beneath his deserts, or to one less 
 honourable than what he had before occu- 
 pied, let him not sullenly refuse it on these 
 accounts; nor imagine that by its accept- 
 ance he would suffer any degradation ; but 
 rather, in such a case, let him nobly think 
 and say w^ ith the excellent Plutarch, who, 
 after he had been preceptor to the emperor 
 Trajan, and enjoyed the dignity of the con- 
 sulate; upon being nominated scavenger 
 to the city, replied to one who re[)roached 
 him w^ith the meanness of the olhce, '' That 
 
342 To he modest in public [Part hi. 
 
 he thought nothing mean by which he could 
 serve the republic *." 
 
 In cases of public competition, it may 
 be no less difficult to ascertain the compara- 
 tive merits of a particular candidate. That 
 a man has twice the property of another, 
 that he is of a more honourable descent, or 
 that he has had the advantage of a more 
 liberal education, may be capable of satis- 
 factory proof; but that he' has more honesty 
 or more ability for public service, might be 
 a point not so easily decided. A sober citi- 
 zen will therefore be slow to advance a pre- 
 tension of so disputable a nature; aware 
 how much every man is partial in his own 
 cause, he will be jealous of himself and 
 liberal to others, especially to a competitor ; 
 to whose just praise he will pay his willing 
 tribute, and whose failings, either he will 
 not mark, or mark without aggravation. 
 Now suppose a man, imder the influence 
 of these principles, and desirous to serve 
 his country, to present himself a candidate 
 
 * Plut. Political Precepts. 
 
Rule v.] Claims or Pretensions. 343 
 
 lor a seat in parliament; he will present 
 himself Avith the consciousness of one who 
 means well, yet not presuming upon his 
 merits ; neither lavish of professions in his 
 own favour, nor disparaging to his oppo- 
 nents ; and should his offers of service be 
 ultimately rejected, he w411 retire in the 
 spiiit of the generous Spartan Paederatus, 
 who, upon being excluded from the no- 
 ble band of heroes that was chosen to 
 defend the pass at Thermopylae, returned 
 home exulting, that there were found in 
 Sparta three hundred citizens more worthy 
 than himself*. 
 
 3. Lastlv, Ave have to consider those 
 s claims that are founded on the natural 
 rights of man; or on that liberty with 
 which every one is invested, w^hen regard- 
 ed only as an insulated individual, of do- 
 ing whatever is not prohibited by some 
 divme law. 
 
 (1.) As all government, in its essence, 
 implies an abridgment of our natural rights, 
 
 * Plut. Life qf Lycurgus, 
 
344 To he modest in public [Part hi. 
 
 or a relinquishment of some of them, in 
 order to the security of the rest ; whoever 
 will claim them to their full extent, must 
 exclude himself from a state of civil society; 
 that is, he must abandon the liberty and 
 security of a citizen, to roam at will as a 
 savage amidst the wants and perils of a wil- 
 derness. 
 
 (2.) Hence every good citizen, especially 
 if under a moderate government, will be 
 cautious how he advances any claim or pre- 
 tension, that goes beyond the present con- 
 stitution and laws of his country ; since (let 
 me repeat again) every innovation is of du- 
 bious consequence ; and when things on the 
 ^vhole are well, a wise man will wish to 
 keep them so, without exposing them to 
 fresh hazard. There is no topic more fac- 
 tious than that of our natural rights ; it has 
 overset a neighbouring country, and will 
 overset any country where it is admitted 
 without judgment or limitation. Nor is the 
 matter improved by calling such rights ab- 
 solutely and universally imprescriptible and 
 unalienable ; it is to call them what they are 
 
Rule v.] Claims or Pretensions, 345 
 
 not ; since all government in its very essence 
 implies (as we have just observed) a surren- 
 der or suspension of part of these rights, 
 for the sake of securing the remainder; and 
 such hyperbolical titles can serve to no other 
 purpose than to heighten the inflammatory 
 harangues of a seditious demagogue. Be- 
 sides, every one will take care to insert in 
 his code of rights any claim or pretension 
 which he is strongly inclined to advance. 
 Sup})ose the claim of universal suffrage has 
 seized the imagination ; this will quickly be 
 converted into an unalienable right; and 
 every government shall be treated as tyran- 
 nical where this pretended claim is not ad- 
 mitted. The case is alike with all other 
 sweeping demands which tend, in their 
 principle, to set aside every political test 
 and qualification whatever; and to reduce 
 society to an universal scramble, or to a 
 scene of democratical and ruinous conten- 
 tion. 
 
 (3.) It must be allowed, indeed, that the 
 natural rights of mankind may be more 
 abridged, or left more at large, than is ne- 
 
346 To he ynodest ill public [Part iii. 
 
 cessaiy or agreeable to the general interest 
 of the community. In either case, the 
 pohtical system is imperfect; and it con- 
 cerns every good citizen, in due time and 
 place, and by every fair and honourable 
 method, to endeavour to correct its errors 
 and to supply its deficiencies ; till it make 
 some approach to that happy temperament 
 which was celebrated under the emperor 
 Nerva, when the authority of the prince 
 was harmoniously combined with the liberty 
 of the subject*/' It is this conjunction 
 which constitutes the true felicity of a state 
 under a political consideration ; and to at- 
 tain it, in some prevailing degree, is all that 
 can reasonably be proposed or expected. 
 And this brings us to the second part of the 
 rule which we have now briefly to illustrate; 
 namely, 
 
 II. That when the public xvelfare^ on the 
 whole, is provided for, it is the part of a > 
 
 * *< Nerva Caesar res olim dissociabiles miscuerit, 
 principatum ac libertatem." Tac. Agr. vita. sect. iii. 
 
Rule v.] Clahns or Pretensions, 347 
 
 good citizen to rest satisfied in the guiet and 
 faithful discharge of the duties of his present 
 station. 
 
 From what has ah'eady been advanced it 
 may appear, that while a government conti- 
 nues to maintain the order and promote the 
 general happiness of society, it deserves to 
 be supported, whatever be its form and ad- 
 ministration ; that if indeed it can be im- 
 proved or exchanged for a better, in a peace- 
 able wav, it ouo^ht to be done; but that 
 studiously to vex and harass, and still more, 
 any attempt to subvert such a government 
 by force, ought severely to be condemned ; 
 war being an evil which nothing can justify 
 but the most urgent necessity ; and this, in 
 the present supposition, has no place. A 
 good citizen will therefore submit to many 
 smaller grievances without murmur or com- 
 plaint; and should others arise of a more 
 grave and serious nature, he will use all 
 gentle and regular means of redress ; and 
 before he entertains a thought of appealing 
 to the sword, he will carry the principle of 
 non-resistance to \hQ last extremity; he will 
 submit to many stretches of prerogative. 
 
348 To be modest in public [Part hi. 
 
 to many partial and inexpedient laws, to 
 many abuses of power in inferior magis- 
 trates; he will submit, till government is 
 degenerated to such a degree as no longer 
 to answer the end of its institution ; the 
 common good. — ^While this on the whole is 
 promoted, he Avill be ready to do full jus- 
 tice to the virtues and abilities of those in 
 power, and to extenuate their faults and 
 their imperfections. He will consider, 
 as it is elegantly expressed in Tacitus, 
 that *' we ought to bear with the luxury 
 and avarice of rulers, as w^e endure barren 
 years, storms, and other disorders of na- 
 ture ; that there will be vices while there 
 are men, yet not without some intermission ; 
 and that thej^ are compensated by greater 
 benefits*." 
 
 Viewing thus equitably the state of public 
 affairs, a wise and good citizen w ill be modest 
 in his demands upon his superiors; and not 
 
 * ** Quomodo sterilitatem, aut nimios imbres, aut cetera 
 natura? mala; ita luxum aut avarltiam dominantium 
 tolerate. Vitia erunt donee homines ; sed neque haec 
 continua; et meliorum interventu pensantur." Tag. 
 Hist. lib. iv. cap. 74. 
 
Rule v.] Claims or Pretensions, 349 
 
 pettishly quarrel with his station in the com- 
 munity, though it may hajjpen to be less 
 privileged than that of some others. 
 
 Should he be obliged to earn his bread 
 bv daily labour, he will consider, that the 
 very existence of society requires a large 
 proportion of its members to remain sub- 
 jected to this necessity ; and supposing him 
 in a land of freedom, though the fruit of 
 his toil should be small, he will not forcret 
 that he enjoys it in security ; equal in this 
 respect to the proudest of his fellow-citizens, 
 and superior to the highest subject of a 
 despotic government. Again, instead of 
 looking with envy on those above him, he 
 will endeavour to reap the solid advantages 
 of his humble condition, in health and con- 
 tent; blessings which he sees often paid 
 down as the price of wealth and distinc- 
 tion. 
 
 Should he be raised a little higher in the 
 order of society, and together with liberty 
 and security, should enjoy a modest com- 
 petence; he would see still further reason 
 to be satisfied with his lot. Calmly looking 
 round on human life, he would perceive 
 
350 To be modest in public [Part hi. 
 
 himself in one of her most eligible situa- 
 tions, notwithstanding a few civil disadvan- 
 tages he might happen to lie under ; ^vhich, 
 if warranted by sound policy, he would 
 approve ; and, though unwisely imposed, 
 he w^ould bear with good humour; nay, 
 would be inclined to consider them as a 
 happy bar to his ambition or avarice, and a 
 security to his present peace. 
 
 What then shall we think of him, who, 
 exempt from every political inconvenience, 
 and in possession of all the means of a vir- 
 tuous and noble independence, is still dis- 
 satisfied with his condition, and ready to 
 quarrel wath the general state of affairs, 
 because, alas ! he is distinguished by no 
 place at court, or not invested with some 
 public office of honour or profit ; or, per- 
 haps, because he is not gratified with some 
 title or trapping of nobility ? Such as this, 
 how'cver, is the preposterous ambition we 
 have sometimes to lament in the conduct of 
 a country gentleman, who chooses rather 
 to obtrude his services where they are nei- 
 ther required nor w^anted, and waste his 
 days and nights at the levees and in tlie 
 
Rule v.] Clalins or Pretensions, 351 
 
 antechambers of men in power, than to re- 
 side with the dignity of a prince upon his 
 paternal inheritance ! To descend from 
 this elevation to a state of low dependance, 
 to sigh after places or pensions, ribbands or 
 titles, and, if he cannot obtain them, to 
 set himself in opposition to the laws or go- 
 vernment of his country^ is the part of a 
 man lost to nature and true honour, and 
 prepared to sell his birthright, like Esau, 
 for a mess of pottage. 
 
 Were it possible to work upon such de- 
 pravity, we might oppose the example of a 
 great statesman *, who tells us, in his Essay 
 upon Gardening, that as a country life was the 
 inclination of his youth, so it was the plea- 
 sure of his age ; and that of the many great 
 employments which had fallen to his share, 
 he had never asked or sought for any ; but 
 had often endeavoured to escape from them 
 all, into the ease and freedom of a private 
 scene. 
 
 Again : Should there be found a class of 
 men in a country who stand excluded from 
 
 * Sir W. Temple. 
 
552 To be modest in public [Part hi. 
 
 its public honours and emoluments, merely 
 for what they deem a purer faith or wor- 
 ship ; however impolitic or illiberal such an 
 exclusion might be, it would lie upon them 
 in a peculiar manner to be studious of a just 
 deference and submission to the powers that 
 are ; to show that good christians are of all 
 men least disposed to clog the measures of 
 government, only because they are not 
 admitted to share its favours ; that pro- 
 vided they can enjoy liberty of conscience^ 
 with a reasonable security for their per- 
 sons and property, they w^ill not eagerly 
 contend for other advantages ; and that 
 when, upon some pressing exigency, they 
 step forth on the public stage, it is at the 
 clear call of duty and of their country, 
 and not from any low inducements of ho- 
 nour or profit. j 
 There are few things to be met with more ' 
 odious, than a busy meddler in politics pre- 
 tending to religion; nor is the difference [ 
 much, whether he list himself under the \ 
 banner of Whig or Tory. Above all, this i 
 is odious in a teacher of Christianity ; espe- 
 cially if he suffer it to appear in his public 
 
 I 
 
Rule v.] Claims or Pretensions. 335 
 
 ministrations. To make the pulpit an en- 
 gine of court flattery, or a drain ecclesiastic 
 to beat up for patriotic recruits, is a con- 
 duct deserving the severest reprehension. 
 A true minister of the Prince of Peace, 
 whose kingdom is not of this workl, directs 
 his attention to higher objects, and shuns 
 the strifes and entanglements of secular 
 affairs. 
 
 It is an old charge against those who 
 have made a profession of true religion, 
 that they were viovers of sedition, hurtful to 
 kings and provinces, paying neither toll, tribute, 
 nor custom ; and this charge, it must be ac- 
 knowledged, has not always been ground- 
 less. The Jews are known to have 
 been a seditious people, and sometimes to 
 have proceeded to actual rebellion; nor 
 have there been wanting men bearing the 
 christian name, who have followed their 
 example ; men, as described by an apostle, 
 presumptuous, self-willed, and not afraid to 
 speak evil of dignities; who have said, with 
 our tongues ivill we prevail, zcho is lord over 
 us ? Nay, such monsters have sprung up 
 
 A A 
 
354 To be modest in public [Part hi. 
 
 in the christian church, who, instead of 
 yielding due obedience to the existing 
 powers, have attempted to seize the go- 
 vernment into their own hands, from a 
 fanatical conceit, that dominion is founded 
 in grace : as if the design of the gospel 
 was to dissolve all our civil obligations, 
 to reverse the order and state of the 
 world, to set servants on 1 torses, and bring down 
 princes to walk like servants upon the earth. 
 The primitive christians knew nothing of 
 this frenzy ; and their passive conduct un- 
 der the most barbarous tyrants, is a stand- 
 ing reproach to such modern christians, 
 who, if every thing does not come up to their 
 mind, and tally with their code of rights, 
 can think of nothing less than binding their 
 kings with chains, and their nobles with fetters 
 of irvn. 
 
 Let me then press upon the reader, if I 
 he be one (as I hope he is) who is jealous 
 for the honour of the christian name; to 
 manifest to the world in his temper and! 
 conduct, that christianitv, so far from su-i 
 perseding the duties arising from our natu-, 
 
Rule v.] Claims or Pretensions. 35v3 
 
 ral or civil relations, binds them more 
 strongly upon us, and in forming good men, 
 forms good subjects ; that by enforcing a 
 supreme regard to God, it most effectually 
 promotes a quiet and cheerful submission 
 to tJie ordinances of vien ; and that it is only 
 by a prudent and peaceable deportment, 
 that good christians are ambitious to vin- 
 dicate their profession, and to put to silence 
 the calumnies of their enemies. 
 
 A a2 
 
CHRISTIAN POLITICS. 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 ON THE WAY TO LIVE HAPPILY UNDER 
 ALL GOVERNMENTS, AND IN ALL SI- 
 TUATIONS, 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 l^lie Foundation of the Happiness here proposed, 
 must be laid in Peace of Conscience, and in 
 holy and ic ell-regulated Affections, 
 
 EVERY plan of happiness that depends 
 on external circumstances, is neither 
 practicable in its nature, nor, if practica- 
 ble, would be of long duration. Let us 
 suppose (as some have supposed) that a per- 
 fect system of legislation and government 
 was sufficient to render every individual of 
 
358 Happiness founded in [Part iv, 
 
 a nation happj^ ; yet where shall we find 
 such a system ? and, if found, how shall 
 we secure its continuance ? A single tjTan- 
 nic prince, or seditious chief, would be 
 enough to derange the whole fabric, and 
 lay it prostrate in the dust. 
 
 We must therefore, in our search after 
 happiness, learn to extend our view beyond 
 all the contrivances of human wisdom, and 
 the efforts of human power ; and, if with 
 seriousness and humility we thus prosecute 
 the inquiry, it will not ultimately be in 
 vain. For since next to the glory of God, 
 happiness is the great end of human exist- 
 ence ; and since so many notices of divine 
 philanthropy, confirmed and ratified by 
 express declarations of scripture, appear 
 through all the works of creation and pro- 
 vidence; we have reason to believe, not- 
 withstanding the apostasy of our nature, 
 that no man's condition, without his own 
 great default, ever becomes so utterly hope- 
 less and wretched, but that some path lies 
 from it, which, if pursued with persevering 
 diligence, will bring him at last out of dark- 
 ness and misery into a state of light and 
 comfort. 
 
Sect, i.] Peace of Conscience ^ Kc. 359 
 
 The chief sources of man's infelicity are 
 to be found in his guilty conscience, and 
 his disordered passions ; and till some effec- 
 tual remedy be applied to these evils, he 
 cannot long be at rest under any govern- 
 ment or in any situation. 
 
 I. A sense of guilt naturally produces 
 fear; fear of divine displeasure, and of its 
 awful consequences beyond this life. It is 
 to relieve themselves from this anxiety that 
 men turn towards every quarter, and apply 
 to every resource ; to the engagements of 
 business, or the dissipations of pleasure ; to 
 philosophic speculations, or to some species 
 of religion or of superstition. 
 
 1. To assert that men often have recourse 
 to business as a relief to that inward dis- 
 quiet which arises from an unpacified con- 
 science, is to assert what charity must be 
 pained to admit, but what I fear is unques- 
 tionable fact. When Cain ivent out from tJie 
 presence of the Lord, we are told that he 
 dwelt in the land of Nod, eastnard of Ede?i* ; 
 
 * Gen. iv. 16. 
 
360 Happiness founded in [Part iv. 
 
 or, as it might be rendered, he was a wan- 
 derer in the land eastward of Eden, The 
 next news we hear of him is, that he built 
 a city ; which some suppose to have been 
 WMth intent to divert his attention from set- 
 tling on himself, in his present reduced 
 state of guilt and fearful apprehension. 
 Whether this interpretation be just or not, 
 it is certain that much of the building and 
 planting, and other busy occupations that 
 are going forward in the world, can be 
 ascribed to no higher or better origin. It 
 must be granted, indeed, that a natural 
 love of employment, together with that 
 love of variety which arises less from guilt 
 than from imperfection, constitute two 
 powerful springs that set the world in mo- 
 tion. But after this deduction is made, there 
 still remains a considerable portion of hu- 
 man activity that must be resolved into the 
 cause of which we are speaking; and whose 
 chief object it is to divert the mind from 
 painful reflections on its own moral situa- 
 tion. 
 
 2. That pleasure is pursued for the same 
 end, and with still greater vehemence and 
 
Sect. I.] Peace of Conscience, &^c, 361 
 
 expectation, must be obvious to all. Thea- 
 tres and masquerades, with other spectacles 
 and mummeries of which the wits of men 
 are so strangely inventive, whatever positive 
 gi-atification they may be supposed to afford, 
 are doubtless, at times, resorted to merely 
 as so many diversions of uneasy thought ; 
 or as charms and opiates to suspend or lay 
 asleep the secret reproaches of a guilty mind, 
 and its fearful bodin^^s of what mav come 
 liereafter. The inefficacj^ of these, or simi- 
 lar devices, to answer such purposes, we 
 find strongly pictured in the stories of Da- 
 mocles and of Belshazzar; of whom the 
 former, (it is said) at the court of Dionysius, 
 when provided with every thing that was 
 suited to regale the sense, or enchant the 
 imagination, could find no relish for his 
 entertainment, on account of a pointed 
 dagger which he observed suspended over 
 his head * ; and the latter, w^e know, 
 amidst a magnificent banquet, and before 
 a thousand of his lords, shook with con- 
 
 * Cic. Tusc. Disp. lib. v. c. 21. 
 
362 Happiness founded in [Part iv, 
 
 sternation at the sight of a hand writing upon 
 the tvall^. 
 
 3. Nor is it uncommon, in this philoso- 
 phic age, to meet with men who seek the 
 same rehef in their metaphysical or moral 
 speculations ; like those unhappy spirits de- 
 scribed in Paradise Lost, who, apart from 
 the vulgar crowd that endeavoured to divert 
 their griefs by musical strains, and various 
 feats of war and agility, 
 
 ** Sat on a hill, retired, 
 In thoughts more elevate, and reasonM high 
 Of providence, fore-knowledge, will, and fate ; 
 Fix'd fate, free-will, fore-knowledge absolute ; 
 And found no end, in wand'ring mazes lost. 
 Of good and evil much they arguM then, 
 Of happiness and final misery, 
 Passion and apathy, and glory and shame ; 
 Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy ; 
 Yet with a pleasing sorcery, could charm 
 Pain for a while, or anguish, and excite 
 Fallacious hope." 
 
 Of the metaphysician I shall take more 
 particular notice in a subsequent section, 
 
 * Dan. V. 5. 
 
Sect, i.] Peace of Conscience, &V. ;3G3 
 
 Of the moralist, who imagines that virtue 
 alone is a sure recommendation to divine 
 favour, and consequently is a sufficient 
 balm for a wounded conscience, I would 
 brieflv observe, that if in his idea of vir- 
 tue he include piety, it will be granted 
 him, that a man of virtue is entitled both 
 to divine favour and to inward peace. But, 
 after this concession, he must allow me to 
 insist that no one, while he continues 
 proudly to reject the aids held out to him 
 by revelation, will become, in the sense 
 here stated, a man of virtue. And if) in 
 defiance of apostles and prophets, he should 
 still presume to wrap himself in his own 
 excellence and sufticiencv, I must leave 
 him, for the present, to the grave and mo- 
 nitory rebuke of a celebrated wit and pa- 
 triot : " Whoever," says he, *' to the pre- 
 judice of our Saviour's merit, and debasing 
 the operation of the Holy Ghost, shall at- 
 tribute too much to his own natural vigour 
 and performances, will be in some danger 
 of finding his \\xi\xii pernkiosa ad salutem^.*' 
 
 * See Anr]. Marvel's Rehearsal transproscd. Partii. p.25J. 
 
364 Happiness foimded iji [Part iv. 
 
 4. It is a principal design of every species 
 of religion, whether true or false, to hold 
 out relief* to a guilty conscience. All the 
 penances and pilgrimages, the rites and sa- 
 crifices that have been practised in different 
 countries and ages, have chiefly had this 
 end in view ; an end far beyond their virtue 
 or efficacy to attain, and which, as scrip- 
 ture strongly warrants us to hold, could 
 only be accomplished by the sacrifice of 
 Christ. This is the great and only consl- 
 deration^ on account of which those who 
 truly repent and believe^ obtain pardon of sin, 
 and are accepted to divine favour. For 
 since our best virtues and graces are imper- 
 fect, and cannot stand the rigour of divine 
 justice, they must need allowance and for- 
 giveness ; so that the best man in the world, 
 m his best performances, must be justified 
 freely by grace ^ through the redemption ivhich 
 is in Christ Jesus ; in whom, as a propitiatory 
 sacrifice, God appears conspicuously just^ 
 Avhile he justifies the penitent believer. 
 
 Here then is a solid foundation laid for 
 peace of conscience ; and other foundation 
 can no man lay. To depend on virtue without 
 
Sect, i.] Peace of Conscience ^ S(c. S65 
 
 pardon ; or on pardon without respect to the 
 atonement of Christ, and bcjh'c a prcvaihng 
 principle of piety and virtue is wrought in the 
 soul, is vain and fallacious. For as the scrip- 
 ture declares, that, ivitJiout shedding of blood 
 there is no remission, so, in the order of be- 
 stowment, it instructs us to consider this 
 blessing as subsequent to repentance and con^* 
 version* ; or to that interior change, whe^ 
 ther produced in a longer or shorter time, 
 or in whatever period of life, by which God 
 is restored to his supremacy in the human 
 heart. 
 
 II. Peace of conscience is a blessing in- 
 timately connected with holy and well-re^ 
 
 * The following passages may be sufficient to justify 
 the order here stated. — " Repent and be converted, that 
 your sins may be blotted out. ^' Actsiii. 19. — "That re- 
 pentance and remission of sins should be preached in 
 his name among all nations." Luke xxiv. 47.—*' Him 
 hath God exalted — to give repentance to Israel, and 
 forgiveness of sins." Acts v. 31. — So in St. Paul's com- 
 mission to the Gentiles : " To open their eyes, and to 
 turn them from darkness to light, and from the power 
 of satan unto God, that they might receive forgiveness 
 of sins,''^ Acts xxvi. 18, 
 
366 Happiness founded in [Part iv, 
 
 gulated affections ; and both together con- 
 stitute a soUd ground of happiness in all 
 conditions and in all circumstances. 
 
 1 . The connection betwixt peace of con- 
 science and right aifections will be evident, 
 if we consider, that as nothing tends more 
 to throw the mind into commotion than 
 conscious guilt, nothing can more conduce 
 to inw^ard tranquillity than pardon and re- 
 concilement. It is remarked by naturaHsts, 
 that oil poured into a stormy sea calms its 
 agitation * ; which is analogous to the case 
 before us; for nothing more powerfully 
 tends to compose a stormy mind than an 
 infusion of divine peace. This blessing is 
 the purchase of our Redeemer, who is 
 eminently styled our peace -^ ; and to him 
 we must look for it. In the mean time, it 
 is indisputably our duty, by every method 
 in our power, and by exerting that measure 
 of divine help already afforded us, to check 
 the disorder of our bosoms, and thus to in- 
 
 * This is remarked by Plutarch in his Natural 2iies^ 
 iions. 
 
 t Ephes. ii. 14. 
 
Sect, i.] Peace of Co7iscie7ice, SCc, 367 
 
 vite that more potent aid, and that recon- 
 ciling and pardoning mercy, \vhich can ef- 
 fectually compose every irregular motion of 
 the passions, and reduce the tempest into a 
 calm. 
 
 2. Tliat there is no happiness without 
 well-regulated affections seems to be the 
 unanimous voice both of religion and phi- 
 losophy. Even Epicurus, who placed the 
 chief good of man in pleasure, yet resolved 
 this pleasure chiefly into mental tranquil- 
 lity. And this combined suffrage of reason 
 and religion stands confirmed by universal 
 experience. Everj^ man must be sensible, 
 that true enjoyment can never consist with 
 domineering pride or devouring envy, with 
 profuse dissipation or insatiable avarice, or 
 with any other of our malignant or sensual 
 passions. A man must be in possession of 
 himself, and at peace with his fellow-crea- 
 tures, (at least he must not wantonly provoke 
 their enmity or opposition) to enjoy any mea- 
 sure of true satisfaction. He must study to 
 establish the just balance of his mind, and to 
 cultivate those mild and benevolent dispo- 
 sitions, A^ hich, if they will not always con- 
 
368 Happiness foimded in [Part iv. 
 
 ciliate the kindness of others, can seldom 
 fail to abate and soften their resentments. 
 
 A man who is thus at peace with God 
 and with himself, and who thus seeks peace 
 with his neighbour, can never justly be 
 deemed unhappy. He maj' expect to come 
 under the blessing of the meek; to whom it 
 is promised, that they shall inherit the earth, 
 and delis'ht themselves in the abundance of 
 peace ^. And though, in the present mixed 
 state, it should be otherwise; though he 
 should meet with his full share of suffering 
 from the political, and the other innumera- 
 ble evils that overspread the world, he will 
 not be left unprovided with a variety of 
 topics which may afford him support and 
 consolation amidst them all. 
 
 Amongst these, as the doctrine of a super- 
 intending Providence chiefly deserves at- 
 tention, I shall endeavour, in the following 
 section, to state briefly what has occurred 
 to me in reflecting upon this important sub^ 
 ject. 
 
 * Psalm xxxvii, 11. 
 
Sect. II.] ( 369 ) 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 The Doctrine of Providence a chief Topic of 
 Comfort to good Men, 
 
 The providence of God comprehends all 
 creatures, with all their operations, and 
 every circumstance attending them; nothing 
 is too vast or too minute for its notice or 
 control. 
 
 All the events that happen throughout 
 the universe may be ascribed to divine Ap- 
 pointment, except the voluntary determina- 
 tions of free agents *. . 
 
 Therefore all events, such free volitions 
 excepted, must bear some direct impression 
 of God, of his wisdom or power, of his 
 goodness or justice ; in a word, of his in- 
 
 * By a voluntary determiymtiorti I understand such a 
 one as might have been forborne by the agent in the 
 precise circumstance?, internal and external, in which 
 it was formed. 
 
 B B 
 
370 Doctrine of Providence [Part iv. 
 
 finite perfections. And it will make no 
 difference as to our present argument, whe- 
 ther such events proceed immediately from 
 the divine agency, or through the interven- 
 tion of second causes ; whether they are 
 separate acts, or the consequences of gene- 
 ral laws. 
 
 Of that energy by which effects are pro- 
 duced, and the course of things is continued, 
 we know nothing. Of causation, whether 
 original or secondary, we have no idea. 
 How the world was made at the Jiat of the 
 Creator, how one body is put in motion at 
 the impulse of another, or how the action 
 of the mind is connected Avith the motion 
 of a limb, we are entirely ignorant. It is 
 sufficient to know that all effects either 
 arise immediately from the power of God, 
 without any medium or instrumentality, or 
 according to those constitutions and la\V8 
 which he has established. 
 
 Though our free volitions are exempt \ 
 from every kind of necessity, moral as well 
 as physical, they are nevertheless subject 
 to the influence of our dispositions, our 
 views, and external circumstances; all which 
 
Sect, ii.] a ddefTopk of Comfort, 3?1 
 
 are under a divine superintending direc- 
 tion. 
 
 God, by restraining our evil inclinations 
 and inspiring others, can easily change our 
 determinations, without doing the least vio- 
 lence to our liberty. He tells Abimelech in 
 <i dream, / icitJilield thee from sinning against 
 me *. And Laban says to Jacob, It is in 
 the poicer of my hand to do you hurt, but the 
 God of your father spake unto me yesternight^ 
 saying, Take thou heed that thou speak not to 
 Jacob from good to bad -f : and it would ap- 
 pear from all the circumstances of the story, 
 that the heart of Esau was under special 
 influence, when he received his brother 
 Jacob with so much kindness and gene- 
 rosity:}:. 
 
 And as God can rule the will bv a direct 
 act, or by impressing the passions ; he can 
 do the same through the medium of the 
 understanding. There is something unac- 
 countable in those trains of ideas that pass 
 through our minds ; some of them we know 
 
 * Gen. XX. 6. t Oen. xxxi. 2^. 
 
 "t Gompare Gen. xxvii. 41. — xxxii. H,-^xxxiii. 4-9 
 
 ]& 5 2 
 
372 Doctrine of Providence [Part iV. 
 
 may be resolved itito the principle of asso- 
 ciation ; yet how often are there trains that 
 appear to us perfectly new, and which had 
 no previous tracks in the imagination that 
 we can discover; and how often too are 
 known trains broken and interrupted by the 
 incursion of ideas of which the memory 
 has no recollection ? All this is wonderful 
 to us, yet certainly is not without his super- 
 intendance, who at once regulates the course 
 of every particle of matter, and every mo- 
 tion in the intellectual world. 
 
 The thoughts of a young man, in deli- , 
 berating upon a plan of life, may first run^ 
 in a commercial line ; this may be crossed 
 by some other that sl^all turn his attention 
 towards law, physic, or divinity ; or some 
 new track may present itself) that shall di- 
 vert him into a project which never occurred 
 to him before. And thus ideal trains, over 
 which he has very little control, may con- 
 duct him to very different determinations* 
 respecting his future calling or employment: 
 in the world. -; 
 
 Take another illustration. When Caesar,, 
 upon his breach with Pompey, had reached! 
 
Sect, ii.] a chief Topic of Comfort, 373 
 
 the Rubicon, he is said to have made a 
 halt at the bank of this river, and seriously 
 to have debated with himself the business 
 before him; his mind inclining now one 
 way, and then another, as the danger of 
 the enterprize, the calamities it might draw 
 after it, the perverseness of his enemies, and 
 the glory of victory, offered themselves by 
 turns to his view. In this state of suspense, a 
 single idea more or less might have produced 
 a different resolution, and the world have 
 ■taken another course. " At last,'* says 
 Plutarch, ** borne on by an extraordinary 
 impulse, he would reason no longer, but, 
 committing himself to his fortune, plunged 
 into the Rubicon, crying, The die is cast.'* 
 Who must not acknowledge, that the heart 
 of Csesar on this critical occasion, was in 
 the hand of God as the rivers of water *. 
 
 After a man has formed his resolution, 
 the execution of it may depend upon a 
 thousand circumstances beyond his pru- 
 dence or management. The winds or the 
 waves, or other contingencies of nature, 
 
 * Prov. xxi. 1. 
 
374 Doctrine of Providence [Part iv. 
 
 which he can neither foresee nor control ; 
 or the dishonesty, the humoijr, or neglir 
 gence of other men who are necessary to 
 his purpose, may either suddenly dash, or 
 gradually obstruct and defeat, his best-con? 
 certed projects. The weakness or treachery 
 of a single individual, or one untoward in- 
 cident, may baffle his ablest efforts, an(J 
 teach him his dependance upon that Pro- 
 vidence which has all nature at command, 
 and which only can order the unrujy wills 
 and affections of men. 
 
 There is a beautiful instance in the story 
 of Esther of this divine superiutendance, in 
 furnishing views and disposing circumstances^, 
 for the accomplishment of a great national 
 deliverance. Haman, having conceived a 
 violent resentment against Mordecai the 
 Jew, to satiate his vengeance procured an 
 edict for the destruction of all the Jews who 
 were scattered through the Persian empire. 
 On the very night wher^ Haraan meant to 
 solicit an order for the execution of Mor- 
 decai, the king, to amuse his thoughts, (not 
 being disposed to sleep) called for the pub- 
 lic records ; and that part being accidentally 
 
Sect, ii.] a chief Topic of Comfort, 375 
 
 read to him which recited his deliverance, 
 by means of Mordecai, from a dangerous 
 conspiracy, he inquired, Avhat reward had 
 been conferred on his deHverer for this ser- 
 vice ; at which critical moment, Haman ap- 
 peared in the outer court, to speak to the king 
 to hang Mordecai on the gallows that he had 
 prepared for the purpose. Upon his ad- 
 mittance, being asked, What shall be done 
 to the man whom the king delighted to 
 lionour ? and having answered according to 
 his own ambitious wishes, he was commis- 
 sioned to do all that honour to Mordecai 
 which he imagined would have been done 
 to himself; and when he had discharged 
 this mortifying office, was hanged upon the 
 gallows he had prepared for his adversary. 
 The sanguinary edict he had obtained 
 against the Jews at large, w^as counteracted 
 by another ; and in every province, this de- 
 voted nation h^Ajoy and gladness, and many 
 of the people of the land became Jews, for 
 the fear of the Jews fell vpon them. That such 
 an extraordinary coincidence of circum- 
 stances, as we have here stated, could have 
 taken place without a particular direction of 
 
376 Doctrine of Providence [Part iy_, 
 
 providence, no man can suppose whose judg- 
 ment is governed by the estabhshed laws 
 of probabihty. 
 
 We have a more agreeable and domestic 
 instance of this particular direction in the 
 story of Abraham's servant, when he went 
 to seek a wife for his young master Isaac. 
 Upon his arrival at the city of Nahor in 
 Mesopotamia, we are told, " He made his 
 camels to kneel down without the city, by 
 a well of water, at the time of the evening, 
 even the time that women go out to draw 
 water. And he said, O Lord God of my 
 master Abraham, I pray thee send me good 
 speed this day, and show kindness unto my 
 master Abraham : behold, I stand here by 
 the well of water, and the daughters of the 
 men of the city come out to draw water : 
 and let it come to pass that the damsel to 
 whom I shall say. Let down thy pitcher I 
 pray thee, that I may drink ; and she shall 
 say. Drink, and I will give thy camels 
 drink also : Let the same be she that thou 
 hast appointed for thy servant Isaac : and 
 - thereby shall I know that thou hast showed 
 kindness to my master. And it came to 
 
 I 
 I 
 
 ■i.,- , 
 
Sect, ii.] a chief Topic of Couifort. 377 
 
 pass before he had done speaking, that, be- 
 hold, Rebekah came out that was born to 
 Bethuel, son of Milcah the wife of Nahor, 
 Abraham's brother, with her pitcher upon 
 her shoulder: and she went down to the 
 well, and filled her pitcher, and came up. 
 And the servant ran to meet her, and said, 
 Let me (I pray thee) drink a little water of 
 thy pitcher. And she said. Drink, my 
 lord : and she hasted, and let down her 
 pitcher upon her hand, and gave him drink. 
 And when she had done giving him drink, 
 she said, I will draw water for thy camels 
 also, until they have done drinking. And 
 she hasted, and emptied her pitcher into 
 the trough, and ran again unto the well to 
 draw water, and drew for all his camels. 
 And the man wondering at her held his 
 peace, to wit whether the Lord had made 
 bis journey prosperous or not. And it 
 came to pass as the camels had done drink- 
 ing, that the man took a golden ear-ring, of. 
 half a shekel weight, and two bracelets for 
 her hands of ten shekels weight of gold : 
 and said. Whose daughter art thou ? tell 
 me, I pray thee, is there room in thy father's 
 
378 Doctrifie of Providence [Partiv. 
 
 house for us to lodge in ? And she said unto 
 him, I am the daughter of Bethuel the son 
 of Milcah, which she bore unto Nahor. 
 She said moreover unto him, we have both 
 straw and provender enough, and room to 
 lodge in. And the man bowed his head 
 and worshipped the Lord. And he said. 
 Blessed be the Lord God of my master 
 Abraham, who hath not left destitute my 
 master of his mercy and his truth : I being 
 in the way, the Lord led me to the house 
 of my master's brethren */' There is so 
 much simplicity and nature, such evident 
 traces of divine conduct in this little pa- 
 triarchal story, that I could not forbear to 
 recite it at length. 
 
 The providence of God in the ordinary 
 course of the world, though less marked 
 and conspicuous, is no less real ; though it 
 lie concealed under the operation of general 
 laws, framed with such incomprehensible 
 skill as to contain provisions for the smallest 
 events, or hide itself under the exercise of 
 human policy and prudence, its efficacy is 
 
 * Gen. xxiv. 
 
Sect, h.] a chief Topic of Comfort, 379 
 
 still the same ; even the sins and follies of 
 men, by its secret conduct, accomplish the 
 ends of infinite wisdom and holiness. 
 
 Thus the divine superintendance, though 
 generally unperceived and disregarded, is 
 unremitting and universal, comprehending 
 equally the private affairs of individuals, 
 and the general interests of nations. The 
 scriptures represent the Most High as 
 ruling in the kingdom of men, and giving it 
 to whomsoever he will * ; as planting and 
 building up a people, and again for their sins 
 plucking up and destroying them-f. And 
 we have before seen, that it was usual with 
 the most eminent heathen legislators, to pre- 
 face their laws with observing, Tliat every 
 citizen oug Jit first to be persuaded, that the gods 
 are the masters and rulers of the ivorld, and 
 that all things are under their power and provi-" 
 fience^ 
 
 If men held a nearer converse with the 
 Deity, they would enjoy a quicker percep- 
 tion of his hand in all things ; where thev 
 pow can see only nature and human agency, 
 
 * Dan. iv. 25. f Jer. xviii. 7-10. 
 
380 Doctrine of Providence [Part iv. 
 
 they would discern the Lord of nature and 
 the Sovereign of the world ; the wheels of 
 providence, as in the vision of Ezekiel, 
 would appear /w// of eyes round about. 
 
 II. Upon these principles, a good man, 
 such as we have above described, mav live 
 without anxiety amidst all the disorders of 
 human life, whether they be of a private 
 or public nature ; since he may securely de- 
 pend on the special protection of that Al- 
 mighty Being whose dominion is absolute 
 and universal. 
 
 If, notwithstanding all his prudent dili- 
 gence, he is poor and necessitous, he may 
 confidently look to him who feeds the spar- 
 rotes and clothes the lilies; if he is threatened 
 with injury by some potent enemy, it will 
 create in him no great alarm when he con- 
 siders, that He who has the hearts of all in 
 his hands, can easily restrain the mischievous 
 intent, or divert it into another channel ; or 
 if he has actually suffered wrong, he may 
 quiet his mind with the reflection, that it could 
 not have happened without his wise permis- 
 sion, who is able to convert it to his greater 
 
Sect. ii. ] a cliief Topic of Cowfort. 
 
 advantage; nay, he has ground to be assure4^' 
 that while he is walking in the ways of piety 
 and virtue, all things, whether prosperous 
 or adverse, are co-operating for his real and 
 permanent benefit. 
 
 Such a sense of things, when pure and 
 genuine, must powerfully tend to extinguish 
 in him all discontent, all envy, all resent- 
 ment, all unmanly fear. He may say to 
 his most formidable adversary, — Thou canst 
 have no poiccr agahist me, unless it be given thee 
 from above. Thy malignity is indeed thine 
 own, but is in itself impotent ; and when 
 armed with powder, is under a superior 
 control. I fear God, and fear none but 
 him. 
 
 Of this heroic piety there have been emi- 
 nent examples in all ages; and especially 
 under the christian dispensation, the instances 
 are innumerable of those who, supported 
 by its promises, have undergone the most 
 grievous trials with patience and cheerful- 
 ness. 
 
 Could we at this day look into the inte- 
 rior state of our own country, we should 
 doubtless discover many examples of such 
 
382 Doctrine of Providence [Part iV, 
 
 who in humble silence endure the oppressor'^ 
 wrong, and all the xvhips and scorns of time, 
 borne up by the hopes that Christianity in-» 
 spires. Many servants under hard masters^ 
 many among the labouring poor who are 
 disabled by age or sickness, or perishing for 
 want of employment, many in garrets oi* 
 in cellars, unheeded and unknown, have 
 found the art of possessing their souls in 
 patience, by an access to resources with 
 which few among the great and opulent, or 
 even among the wise and learned, have the 
 happiness to be acquainted. They have 
 been taught to pray to their Father in se- 
 cret, and to cast all their care upon him 
 who careth for them, while neglected or 
 despised by their fellow-creatures. Com- 
 pared with these, the heroes and sages of 
 the world, in a moral individual estimate^ 
 are vain and insignificant. 
 
 When a good man is led to contemplate 
 the politics of the world, it is with this con- 
 viction, that all the consultations of states 
 and princes are under a divine superintend- 
 ance. He is satisfied that there is no m's* 
 dom, nor imderstandirig, nor counsel^ against 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
Sect, ii.] a chief Topic of Comfort, 383 
 
 the Lord * ; that tlie deceived and the deceiver 
 are his \ ; that he taketh aicay the heart of the 
 chiefs of a people, and causetJi them to zcander 
 in a wilderness icliere tJiere is no icai/ 1. Thus 
 when he mingled a spirit of giddiness in their 
 pubhc deliberations, the princes of %oan be- 
 came fools, the counsel of the ivise counsellors of 
 Pharaoh became brutish, tiiey seduced Egypt, 
 and caused he?' to eir in all her works, as a drunk- 
 ard staggereth in his vomit §. 
 
 He is equally persuaded, that in the 
 execution of their purposes, the princes and 
 powers of the earth are under the same 
 powerful direction. When the haughty 
 Sennacherib boasted of the strength of his 
 hand and of his ivisdom, the prophet thus ad- 
 dressed him : Shall the are boast itself against 
 him that heiveth therewith ; or sJiall the saio mag- 
 nify itself against him that shaketk it || ? Which 
 shows that this proud Assyrian, in all the 
 career of his successful ambition, was an 
 instrument in the hands of the universal 
 
 * Prov. xxi. 30. t Job. xil. 16. % lb. xii. 24. 
 § Isaiah xix. 13, 14, (Bp. Lowth's Translation.) 
 
 i| Isaiah x. 15, 
 
384 Doctrine of Providence [Part iv. 
 
 Sovereign, to do what his counsel determined 
 before to be done. Accordingly, when beyond 
 the Hne marked out by this counsel, he had 
 resolved upon the conquest of Judea and 
 its capital, and vaunted as if he had already 
 accomplished his purpose; his army was 
 suddenly destroyed, and himself slain upon 
 his return to his own land. Because thy rage 
 against me, says God by his prophet, is come 
 up into mine ears, I will put my hook in thy 
 nose, and my bridle in thy lips, and tnrn thee • 
 back by the way by which thou earnest, — He | 
 shall 7iot come into this city, nor shoot an arroxo j 
 
 I 
 
 there ; by the xvay that he came, by the same \ 
 shall he return, for I will defend this city to 
 save it for my own sake, a?id for my servant 
 David's sake^. And the pious christian, 
 who views the dispensations of Providence 
 in the light of scripture, will acknowledge 
 the same over-ruling hand in every conquest i 
 and defeat, in every national change and 
 revolution, that has happened since the 
 world- began. 
 
 He will be sensible that such events, how- 
 
 * 2 Kings, chap. xix. 
 
Sect, ii.] a chkf Topic of Comfort, 38.'> 
 
 ever calamitous they may be, can never 
 take place without wise and just reasons in 
 the divine mind. He knows that Avhen the 
 Canaanites were exterminated, it w^as be- 
 cause their land ivas defiled, and the measure of 
 their iniquities full^ ; that when destruction 
 fell upon Tyre, that croivning city, ivhosc 
 merciiants n'ere princes, wJiose traffickers were 
 tiie lionourable of the earth ; it was to staiii the 
 pride of all gloiy ^ \ that Avhen vengeance 
 was threatened against Ninevah, it Avas for 
 its wickedness which had ascended to }ieaven\. 
 From these and other innumerable instances 
 he will collect, that public as well as private 
 calamities have respect to moral evil, and 
 that it is never wantonlv, or out of mere 
 
 K,' 
 
 dominion, that God afflicts or grieves the 
 children of men. 
 
 The same divine records will help him to 
 trace the conduct of Providence in the tem- 
 porary triumph of wicked nations, by pre- 
 senting them to his view as scourges for the 
 punishment of other nations that are still 
 
 * Gen. XV. 16. and Lev. xviii. 24, 25. 
 t Isa. xxiii. 8, 9. % Jonah i, 2. 
 
 C C 
 
386 Doctrine of Providence [Part iv. 
 
 more wicked ; and doomed, after the ser- 
 vice is performed, to be cast away or de* 
 stroyed themselves. A few passages in 
 proof and illustration of this point, which 
 the reader may peruse when he is disposed 
 and at leisure, I dismiss to the note below *; 
 
 * The Almighty is thus introduced speaking of Sen- 
 nacherib above-named : " O Assyrian, the rod of mine 
 anger. I will send him against an hypocritical nation, 
 and against the people of my wrath. Howbeit he 
 meaneth not so, neither doth his heart think so, but it 
 is in his heart to destroy and cut off nations not a few. 
 Wherefore it shall come to pass, that when the Lord 
 hath performed his whole work on Mount Zion and on 
 Jerusalem, I will punish the fruit of the stout heart of 
 the king of Assyria, and the glory of his high looks." 
 Isa. X. 5-12. A similar declaration is made respecting 
 Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon : " Thus saith the 
 Lord of hosts, because ye have not heard my words, 
 behold I will send and take all the families of the north, 
 and Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon my servant, and 
 will bring them against this land, and against all the 
 nations round about, and will utterly destroy them. — 
 And it shall come to pass, when seventy years are^c- 
 complished, that I will punish theiking of Babylon and 
 that nation for their iniquity, and* the land of the Chal- 
 deans, and will make it perpetual desolations." Jer. 
 XXV. 8-12. • ^ ^-'^' -' 
 
 In another prophecy, a reason is assigned for Ne- 
 
Sect, ii.] a chief Topic of Comfort. 387 
 
 fearing, lest I have already put his patience 
 to a sufficient trial by nay copious citatip^A 
 of scripture; for which, the impossibility 
 of iinding elsewhere those documents which 
 came home to my present purpose, must be 
 my apology. 
 
 From what we have briefly suggested 
 upon this topic, and from the examples we 
 have produced, it may appear, that just 
 views of Providence are powerfully calcu- 
 
 buchadnezzar's success against Egypt, which reflects a 
 beautiful light on the equity of Providence in rewarding 
 even temporal services. " It came to pass," says the 
 prophet Ezekiel, *' in the seven and twentieth year, the 
 word of the Lord came unto me, saying, Son of man, 
 Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon caused his army to 
 serve a great service against Tyrus : every head was 
 made bald, and every shoulder was peeled : yet had he 
 no wages nor his army for Tyrus, for the service he had 
 served against it. Therefore thus saith the Lord God, 
 Behold I will give the land of Egypt to Nebuchadnezzar 
 king of Babylon, and he shall take her multitude, and 
 take her spoil, and take her prey, and it shall be the 
 wages for his army : 1 have given him the land of 
 Egypt for his labour wherewith he served against it, be- 
 cause they wrought for me, saith the Lord God.*' 
 Ezekiel xxix. 17-20. 
 
 c c 2 
 
588 Doctrine of Providence [Part iV. 
 
 lated to administer support to a man of piety 
 under all reverses ; under poverty and op- 
 pression, sickness and death. Even amidst 
 the waste and desolation of his country, 
 while he may bewail the wickedness or 
 misconduct which brought on the catas- 
 trophe, he will find rest in the considera- 
 tion, that it could not have taken place 
 without the righteous disposal of the Al- 
 mighty. 
 
 Let it be well observed, that it is only a 
 good man, or, in other words, a man who 
 is subdued to the government and grace of 
 God, to whom this support fully belongs, 
 or who is fully capable of it ; such a man 
 only has ground for an entire confidence in 
 the divine favour towards him, amidst all 
 the disorders and troubles to which he is 
 exposed ; or is prepared to acquiesce in all 
 the dispensations of heaven towards man- 
 kind in general. Others, as they approach 
 to this character, may expect to share in 
 the consolations annexed to it. To all but 
 the obstinate rebel, who will neither submit 
 to the laws of his Creator, nor listen to the 
 
Sect, ii.] a chief Topic of Cotnfort. ^ 389 
 
 overtures of his mercy, a ray of hope breaks 
 through the thickest gloom of the present 
 state. 
 
 One great reason whj'' a wicked man, 
 wicked to the degree now described, can 
 find no satisfaction in the view of Provi- 
 dence, as consisting in the government of 
 God over free agents, is, because it leaves 
 him responsible for his actions, and threatens 
 him with certain vengeance on their ac- 
 count ; he is therefore willing to divert his 
 attention from this subject altogether, or 
 perhaps to seek relief in some scheme of 
 necessitv, which, whatever other misery it 
 may involve, will, if he can thoroughly per- 
 suade himself of it, save him, at least, from 
 the anguish of a guilty conscience, and fi'om 
 the apprehensionof any suffering which can 
 properly come under the idea of punish- 
 ment. 
 
 It appears, therefore, of the highest mo- 
 ment, that w^iile we maintain the sinful vo- 
 litions of men to be subject to divine con- 
 trol, we should exempt them from every 
 kind of absolute necessitation ; lest, by con- 
 tending for the government of God, w^e de- 
 
S90 Doctrine of Providence, 8fc. [Part iv, 
 
 stroy the responsibility of man, and remove 
 him out of that state of trial which we are 
 taught to believe he is under during the pre- 
 sent life. To guard against this destructive 
 consequence shall be the business of the fol- 
 lowing section ; which, though it may be 
 censured as a digression, the reader, it is 
 presumed, will regard with a favourable al- 
 lowance, from a consideration of the great 
 and pressing importance of the subject; 
 especially at a season, when the strong hold 
 of necessity is become the last retreat of in- 
 fidels and atheists, and (what is still more 
 to be lamented) is resorted to as a tower of 
 defence by some who are professed advocates 
 for evangelical religion, to which, in other 
 respects, it is acknowledged they are an 
 ornament. 
 
Sect. III.] ( 391 ) 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 On the Importance of distinguisliing Providence 
 
 from Necessiti/, 
 
 That the doctrine of necessity is as an- 
 cient as the days of our first parents, it 
 would be rashness to assert. It might be 
 supposed, however, without any great im- 
 probability, that something of this kind was 
 insinuated in Adam's casting his offence upon 
 Eve, and Eve upon the serpent. Be this as 
 it may, it is certain, that an infusion of this 
 doctrine has corrupted the streams both of 
 religion and philosophy almost in all ages, 
 and among all nations of which we have 
 any literary records. Without attempting 
 to demonstrate this by a particular deduc- 
 tion, which would here be unseasonable, I 
 proceed to observe, that it was the felicity 
 of the christian church, either to escape en- 
 tirely this taint, or to be but slightly infected 
 
392 hnportance of distinguishing [Part iv. 
 
 with it, till, in the beginning of the fifth 
 century, it was spread far and wide by the 
 famous St. Austin, in the warmth of his 
 zeal against the Pelagians. As a proof of 
 what is here asserted, it may be sufficient to 
 allege the testimony of one who is consi- 
 dered as the most strenuous champion of the 
 predestinarian doctrine in modern times, 
 I mean Calvin ; who frankly acknowledges, 
 that all the fathers who preceded Austin, 
 spoke so ambiguously and variously upon 
 this point, that an endeavour to establish it 
 upon their authority would be vain and 
 fruitless *. To which he might have added, 
 
 * " Magnum mihl praejudicium attullsse forsan videar, 
 qui scriptores omnes Ecclesiasticos, excepto Augustino, 
 ita ambigue aut varie in hac re loquutos esse confessus 
 sum, ut certum quippiam ex eorum scriptis haberi 
 nequeat. Hoc enim perjnde nonnulli interpretabuntur 
 quasi a sufFragii jure depellere ideo ipsos voluerim, quia 
 mihi sint omnes adversarii. Ego vero nihil aliud spectaui 
 quani quod volui simpliciter ac bona fide consultuni 
 piis ingemis : quae si eorum sententiam hac in parte ex- 
 pectent, semper incerte fluctuabunt : adeo nunc homi- 
 nem liberi arbitrii viribus spoHatum, ad solam gratiam 
 confugere docent: nunc propiis ipsum armis aut in- 
 struunt, aut videntur instruere." 
 
 Calv. Inst. lib. ii. cap. 2. sect. S- 
 
Sect, hi.] Providence froin Necessity, 393 
 
 that even Austin himself, for some time after 
 his conversion, held the same sentiment 
 with his predecessors * ; or rather, I helieve, 
 ascribed more than some of them, or than 
 he ought to have done, to the unassisted 
 
 * To evince this, the following p^issagc from St. 
 Austin will be sufficient, which I cite from a learned 
 writer, as the original is not at hand. " St. Austin lays 
 down this as the true definition of sin, peccatum est volun- 
 tas rctinendi, vel consequendi id, quod justitia vetat, et 
 unde liberum est abstinere ; sin is the will to obtain or 
 retain that which justice forbids, and from which it is 
 free for us to abstairt *. Whence he concludes, that no 
 man U worthy of dispraise or punishment, qui id non 
 faciat quod facere non potest, for not doing that which 
 he hath 7io power to do; and that if sin be worthy of 
 dispraise and punishment, it is not to be doubted, tunc 
 esse peccatum cum et liberum est nolle. These things, 
 saith he, the shepherds sing upon the mountains, and 
 the poets in the theatres, and the unlearned in their 
 assemblies, and the learned in their libraries, and the 
 doctors in the schools, and [antistites, in sacris locis, ct 
 in orbe terrarum genus humanum] the bishops in the 
 churches^ and manki)id throughout the whole earth. 
 Yea this, saith he, is so manifest, nulla hinc doctorum 
 paucitas, nulla indoctorum turba dissentiat, that it hath 
 the universal consent of the learned and unlearned^,'** 
 
 * lib. de Duub. Animab. c. 11, 12. 
 t De Vera Rel. c. 14, et 5C. 
 
/■ 
 
 394 Importance of dhtinguishing [Part iv- 
 
 power of the human will*. During the 
 middle ages, the doctrine of the great and 
 
 * How much this eminent father of the church over- 
 rated the liberty of the will in his first writings, we have 
 his own cortfession in different places. Thus, in his first 
 book on predestination, chap iii. — " Non sic pius atque 
 humilis doctor ille sapiebat; (Cyprianum beatissimum 
 loquor) qui dixit, in nullo gloriandum quando nostrum 
 nihil sit. Quod ut ostenderet, adhibuit apostolum 
 testem, dicentem : quid autem habes, quod non ac- 
 cepisti? Si autem accepisti, quid gloriaris, quasi non 
 acceperis? Quo praecipue testimonio etiam convictus 
 sum, cum similiter errarem putans, fidem, qua in Deum 
 credimus, non esse donum Dei, sed a nobis esse in 
 nobis, et per illam nos impetrare Dei dona, quibus tem- 
 peranter et juste et pie vivamus in hoc seculo. Neque 
 enim fidem putabam Dei gratia preveniri," — Again, in 
 the first book of his retractions, chap, xxiii. — " Nondum 
 diligentiiis quaesieram, qualis sit electio gratias. Proinde 
 quod continuo dixi : dicit enim idem apostolus: idem 
 Deus, qui operatur omnia in omnibus : nusquam autem 
 dictum est : Deus credit omnia in omnibus : ac deinde 
 subjunxi: quod ergo credimus, nostrum est: quod au- 
 tem bonum operamur, illlus est, qui credentibus dat 
 spiritual sanctum : profecto non diceram, si jam scirem, 
 etiam ipsam fidem inter Dei munera reperiri, quae dan- 
 tur in eodem spiritu. — Et quod paullo post dixi : nos- 
 trum est enim credere et velle : illius autem dare cre- 
 dentibus et volentibus facultatem bene operandi per 
 Spiritum sanctum, per quem caritas diffunditur in cor- 
 
Sect, hi.] Providence from Necessity. 395 
 
 pious African bishop was revived at different 
 periods ; in the ninth century, by the monk 
 GodcscJialchus, and was by turns condemned 
 and justified in several councils*; in the 
 thirteenth, by the Dominicansy or preaching 
 friars, and by them carried to still greater 
 rigours. At the reformation it was taken 
 up by Luther, v/ho was himself an Aiigusti- 
 7iian monk, though afterwards it was relin- 
 quished by his followers, and is so at this 
 day. Calvin, as we have above observed, 
 adopted the same doctrine, aggravated, as 
 would seem, by a degree of severity of his 
 ownf ; unless we should suppose that he 
 
 dlbusnostiis: verum est quidem, sed eadem regula et 
 utrumque ipsius est, quia ipse prseparat voluntatem ; et 
 utrumque nostrum, quia non fit, nisi volentibus nobis." 
 Upon these passages Vossius remarks, ** Neutiquam 
 pro calumnia, haberi debere, quod multi 4icerent, ipsum 
 prius Augustinum ea docuissc, qua; in Massiliensibus 
 postea, damnaret." Hist. Pelag. lib. iv. Pars 2. Thesis 1. 
 
 * See Mosheim's Eccles. Hist. vol. ii. p. 156-8. 
 
 t " Quum non alia ratione quae futura sunt pra?videat, 
 nisi quia ita ut fierent decrevit ; frustra de praescientia 
 lis movetur, ubi constat ordinatione potius et' nutu 
 omnia evenire. 
 
 ** Discrtis verbis hoc extare negant, decretum fuissc a 
 
390 Importance of disdngukhing [Part iv. 
 
 had drawn it from Thomas Aqu'mas, or some 
 other of the dominican doctors *, who, in 
 
 Deo ut sua defectlone periret Adam. Quasi vero idem 
 
 ille Deus, quern scriptura prasdicat facere quaecunque 
 
 vult, ambiguo fine condiderit noblissimam ex suis crea- 
 
 turis." 
 
 Calv. Instit. lib. ili. c. 23. sect, 6,7. 
 
 * That this is no strained or illiberal supposition, may 
 appear from the following passage of Juricu, a very 
 eminent and zealous Calvinist, who, having described 
 the conduct of Arnaud towards the JesuitSy proceeds to 
 observe, " C'est justement ainsi qu'il agit avec les Cal- 
 vinistes au sujet de la grace. Les Caivinistes sur ce 
 point n'enseignent piecisement que ce qu'enseignent les 
 Thomistes. Les docteurs de I'Eglise Rpmaine eux- 
 infemes nous en sont temoins, comrae nous verrons 
 quelque part avant que de iinir cette matiere. Cepen- 
 dant quand on dispute sur ia grace ; en se tournant du 
 cote des Caivinistes, il faut appeller leur doctrine iinpiey 
 folky herctiqiie ; mais eh se tournant du cote des Tho- 
 mistes, 11 faut reconnoitre la meme doctrine pour etre 
 Cathollque, la pure theologie de St. Paul et de St. Au, 
 gustin." 
 
 Here then we see that the doctrine of grace, as taught 
 by Calvinists, is according to Jurieu, who was one of 
 its greatest and ablest defenders, and, in the opinion too 
 of the Roman catholic doctors themselves, perfectly 
 the same with that oi Aquinas ; a man held by the 
 Romish church in such high estimation for his under- 
 standing, that he was denominated the angel, of the 
 
Sect, hi.] Providence from Ncccssin/. 397 
 
 subtlety of* genius, and in high and curious 
 notions, appear to have surpassed either of" 
 our two great reformei's ; wliose inferiority, 
 in tliese respects, may be allowed without 
 any derogation to their praise *. From 
 Calvin were chiefly derived the confessions 
 of the retbrmed churches abroad, as distin- 
 guished from the Lutheran ; and tlie church 
 of England, so far as her doctrinal articles 
 are concerned, seems nearly to agree with 
 the reformed standard. Let it be observed, 
 
 schools ; and for his sanctity, that he was enrolled in the 
 catalogue of her saints, 
 
 * Calvin, in the excellent preface to his institutionsy 
 addressed to the French king, Francis the First, justly 
 condemns those curious wits, who waste their lives in 
 such subtle speculations, as only serve to obscure 
 and perplex the simplicity of scripture, and this to a 
 degree, that, (as he observes) Were the fathers la rist 
 again, and witfiess that contentious art which has passed 
 under the title of speculative theology, ihey could ne-jer 
 imagine that the Deity was the subject of discussion *. 
 Happy! if tliis eminent man had never exposed him- 
 self to a just retortion of the same censure ! 
 
 * " Si nunc pcilres suTitentur, et hujusmoiU jurt^andi artem audiant, 
 quam speculativaTn theologiam appellant isti, nihil miniis credant quam 
 de Deo huberi di«;putationejn." Calv. Pra?!'. ad Rogem. G«il. 
 
598 Importance of distinguishing [Part iv. 
 
 that the notion of necessity advanced by- 
 Austin, and which is still retained in sub- 
 stance by those who are now styled mo- 
 derate Calvinists, is confined to man in his 
 present lapsed state; and in this state, is 
 limited to the spiritual life : for in things 
 purely natural or civil, his power to xvill and 
 act differentlj'', in the same circumstances, 
 is acknowledged * : whereas the necessity 
 which we have here immediately in view, 
 and which by some is denominated pkiloso- 
 phical, is made to extend itself absolutely 
 and universally ; so that not only man, both 
 lapsed and innocent, but every being what- 
 ever, with every circumstance attending it, 
 w^hether internal or external, is subjected 
 to its sway. This is the necessity, which 
 in these latter times has been revived, under 
 different modifica ions, by Hobbes and Spi- 
 
 * This Calvin states to be tlie common opinion of 
 theoloo;ical writers before his time. *' Communiter so- 
 lent res medias, quse scilicet nihil ad regnum Dei per- 
 tinent, sub libero hominis consilio ponere ; veram au- 
 ]tem justitiam ad specialem Dei gratiam, et spiritualem 
 regenerationem referre.'* Calv. Inst. lib. ii. G. 2* 
 sect. 5. 
 
Sect, hi.] Providence from Necessity, 399 
 
 noza; and more lately by Mirabeau, Hel- 
 vetius, Diderot, Voltaire, and the Avhole 
 herd of French atheists and philosophers ; 
 and in our own country by Hume, Lord 
 Kaimes, Dr. Hartley, (who deserved to be 
 in better company) and Dr. Priestley; with 
 others of minor quality. And what shall I 
 say ? even men who stand forth as zealous 
 advocates for evangelical doctrine, justly 
 offended with the vain panegyrics which 
 are sometimes pronounced upon human 
 power and worthiness, and smitten with the 
 fair pretences of humility and dependance 
 held out in the scheme of necessity * ; and 
 
 t ** Le Fataliste n'est point en droit d'etre vain de ses 
 propres talents, ou de ses vertus ; il sait que ces qua- 
 lites ne sont que des suites de son organisation naturelle, 
 modifice par des circonstances qui n'ont nullement de- 
 pendu de lui. II n'aura ni haine ni mepris peur ceux 
 que la nature et les circonstances n'auront point favorises 
 comme lui. C'est le fataliste qui doit etre humble et 
 modeste par principe ; n'est-il pas force de reconnoitre 
 qu'il ne possede rien qu'ii n'ait re^u ?'* Systcme de U 
 Nature, p. 191. 
 
 But notwithstanding this strain of philosophical hu- 
 mility, it may appear from the following passage of this 
 hapless author, that even the notioa of fatalism itself 
 was not always. sufficient to preserve him from something 
 
AOO Tmporfa?ice of dlsdiiguishiiig [Part i v, 
 
 also led on and encouraged by the example 
 of a pious and ingenious writer * ; have 
 
 like vain-glorymg. If it suffered him not to glory in 
 his liberty, he tried hard to glory (if I may be allowed 
 the expression) iii his machinery. The passage is sin- 
 gular, and were it not for the gravity of the subject, 
 might amuse some readers as a philosophical curiosity. 
 It is as follows : 
 
 ** Que Ton ne nous dit point que c'est degrader 
 rhomme, que de reduire ses fonctions a un pur mc- 
 chanisme ; que c'est honteusement TaviHr, que de le 
 comparer a un arbre, a une vegetation abjecte. — Le 
 philosophe, exempt de prejuges, n'entend point ce 
 langage invente par fignorance de ce qui constitue la 
 vraie dignite de Thomme. Un arbre est un objet qui, 
 dans son espece, joint futile a I'agreable ; il merite 
 noire affection, quand il produit des fruits doux et une 
 ombre favorable. Toute machine est precieuse, des 
 qu'elle est vraiment utile, et remplit fidelement Ics 
 fonctions auxquelles on la destine. Oui, Je le dis avec 
 courage, Thomme de blen, quand il a des talents et 
 des vertus, est, pour les etres de son espece, un arbre 
 qui leur fournit et des fruits et de I'ombrage. L'homme 
 de bien est une machine dont les ressorts sont adaptes de 
 maniere a remplir leurs fonctions d'une fa9on qui doit 
 pi aire. Non, Je ne rougirai pas d'etre une machine de 
 ce genre." Systeme dela Nature, p. 192. 
 
 * The late Rev. Mr. Edwards^ of New England, of 
 whom Dr. Priestley observes with much probability, " Had 
 this ingenious writer lived a little longer, and reflected 
 on the natural connection and tendency of his senti- 
 
Sect, hi.] Providoiccfrom Necessiiij. 40l 
 
 passed over to their most formidable adver- 
 saries, and fight under the same banner 
 with infidels and atheists*, though inten- 
 
 ments, he could not but have seen things in a very dif- 
 ferent light." 
 
 Preface to his Examination of Rcid's Enquiry, &c. 
 p. 16-17. 
 
 ■ * This has long appeared to me a melancholy fact ; 
 and it is one which has not escaped the acute observa- 
 tion of a very respectable man, and an eminent philo- 
 sopher. " Some good men," he remarks, " appre- 
 hending that, to kill pride and vain-glory, our active 
 powers cannot be too much depressed, have been led, 
 by zeal for religion, to deprive us of all active power. 
 
 *' Other good men, by a like zeal, have been led to 
 depreciate the human understanding, and to put out the 
 light of nature and reason, in order to exalt that of 
 revelation. 
 
 *' Those weapons which were taken up in support of 
 religion, are now employed to overturn it ; and what 
 was, by some, accounted the bulwark of orthodoxy, is 
 become the strong hold of atheism and infidelity. 
 
 <' Atheists join hands with theologians, in depriving 
 man of all active power, that they may destroy all 
 moral obligation, and all sense of right and wrong. 
 ■ They join hands with theologians, in depreciating the 
 human understanding, that they may lead us into abso- 
 luse scepticism." 
 
 Reid's Essays on the Powers of the Human Mind, 
 vol. iii. p. 450-1. 
 
 D D 
 
402 Importance of distinguishing [Part iv. 
 
 tionally for contrary ends and purposes. 
 This apparently is a post of so much danger 
 to themselves, and so injurious to the cause 
 which they mean to maintain, that it may 
 deserve their most serious consideration, whe- 
 ther they are not called upon by every reason 
 both of duty and of safety, to flee from the 
 tents of these xvicked or mistaken men ; and 
 though every other argument should fail, 
 whether the following consequences, and 
 these deduced by an author Avho had long 
 studied the subject, who had been bred up 
 in the same school with themselves, and 
 like them too had gone over to the camp of 
 the enemy, ought not to produce at least 
 verv alarmino; doubts of the doctrine in 
 question, and to be deemed alone sufficient 
 to determine their conduct. 
 
 The author here intended is one we have 
 already mentioned, the late Dr. Priestley, 
 who, after his revered master, as he some- 
 where calls Dr. Hartley, endeavours to sub- 
 stitute fatalism in the place of providence ; 
 and to transform the moral world into a 
 system of intellectual machinery. He main- 
 tains, that infinite wisdom sees nothing in 
 
Sect, hi.] Providence from Necessity, 403 
 
 the universe that is not a necessary and useful 
 part of a perfect ivJiole * ; that the distinction 
 between things natural and moral is ground- 
 less -f-; that a man is no more accountable 
 for his vices than for his misfortunes \ ; that 
 all remorse of conscience is a deception, and 
 arises entirely from a narrowness of com- 
 prehension § ; that a thoroughly enlightened 
 necessitarian, when he looks back upon his 
 actions, sees them all to be perfectly right ; 
 and that the doctrine of repentance, con- 
 fession, and pardon, are founded upon an 
 imperfect and fallacious view of things ||. 
 
 * " To God nothing is seen as an evil, but as a neces- 
 sary and useful part of a perfect whole." PRtESTLEY's 
 Doct. of Necessity, p. 114. 
 
 t "The distinction between things natural and moral 
 entirely ceases on the scheme of necessity." Ibid, 
 p. 115. 
 
 % " The vices of men come under the class of com- 
 mon evils." Ibid. 
 
 § " You say that remorse of conscience implies that 
 a man thinks that he could have acted otherwise than he 
 did. I have no objection to this ; at the same time that 
 I say, he deceives himself in that supposition." Pr. 
 Def. of Necessity, p. 62. In the preceding page he 
 ascribes it to " want of comprehension." 
 
 11 " It is acknowledged that a necessitarian, who, as 
 
 D D 2 
 
404 hnportajice of distinguishing [Part iv. 
 
 According to this scheme, the emperor 
 Nero might deliberately have recalled to 
 his remembrance the burning of Rome, 
 which he charged upon the christians; his 
 unnatural practices ; the murder of Britan- 
 nicus and Seneca; of his wives and his 
 mother Agrippina; and of all his other 
 enormous crimes ; without the least re- 
 proach of conscience : since whatever he 
 had done, was both right in itself) and 
 absolutelv inevitable. For want of this 
 knowledge, after the death of Agrippina, 
 as we are told by Suetonius*, he fell un- 
 der the scourges of a guilty conscience, 
 
 such, believes that, strictly speaking, nothing goes 
 wrong, cannot accuse himself of having done wrong in 
 the ultimate sense of the words. He has, therefore, 
 in this strict sense, nothing to do with repentance, con- 
 fession, or pardon, which are all adapted to a different, 
 imperfect, and fallacious viev^r of things.'* 
 
 Correspondence with Dr. Price, p. 301. 
 
 * " Neque tamen scelerls conscientlam, quanquam 
 
 et militum et senatus populique gratulationibus con- 
 
 iirmaretur, aut statim aut unquam postea ferre potuit : 
 
 saepe confessus exagitari se materna specie, verberibus 
 
 furiarum, ac tcedis ardentibus." 
 
 Suet. ch. xxxlv. 
 
Sect, hi.] Pyovidcnccfrom Ncccs.sI/t/. Ai)5 
 
 frequently declaring, that he was haunt- 
 ed by his mother's ghost, and pursued 
 by the whips and burning torches of the 
 furies. Unhappy Nero ! who had not learn- 
 ed that the murder of a mother was a deed 
 which neither called for repentance, confession^ 
 or pardon. 
 
 How would the profound Tiberius, ano- 
 ther monster of vice, have rejoiced in the 
 discovery, that he had been guilty of no- 
 tliing which ought either to make him afraid 
 or ashamed ! He w ould not then have ex- 
 pressed himself to the senate in these terms : 
 " What I should write to vou, or how I 
 should write to you, or whether I should at 
 all write to vou at this time, may all the 
 gods pour upon my head a more terrible 
 vensreance than that I feel mvself daily 
 sinking under, if I can tell *." Thus, says 
 Tacitus, was his conscience terrified with the 
 image of his crimes, nor could either his for- 
 
 * " Quid scribam vobis, S. C. aut quo modo scribam, 
 aut quid omnino non scribam hoc tempore, dii me 
 dea?que pejus perdant, quam perire quotidic sentio, si 
 scio.'" Tag. An. lib. vi. G5. 
 
406 Importance of distinguishing [Part iv. 
 
 tune or his solitude afford him the least re- 
 lief*. 
 
 To mention only one instance more : 
 With what joy would Judas Iscariot have 
 learned, that he had not sinned in betraying 
 innocent blood, when, in despair of pardon, 
 he threw down the thirty pieces of silver 
 before the high priest, and then went and 
 hanged himself! 
 
 Whether any man's moral constitution is 
 strong enough to resist such poison, I can- 
 not tell. It was promised to the first chris- 
 tian converts, that though they drank any 
 deadly thing it should not hurt them ; and I 
 should look upon it no less miraculous in 
 morals, for any one to admit the scheme of 
 necessity, crude and unqualified as it has 
 lately been presented to the world, without 
 experiencing its destructive effects. Poisons 
 we know may be corrected, and even some- 
 times made salutary by a due mixture of 
 other ingredients ; and the worst principles. 
 
 * " Quippe Tiberlum non fortuna, non solitudines 
 protegebant, quin tormenta pectoris, suasque ipse psenas 
 fateretur." Tac. An. lib. vi. 63. 
 
Sect, hi.] Providence from Nccessih/. AiYI 
 
 when taken ii[) by good men, commonly 
 undergo so manv modilicalions and practical 
 corrections, as to become, thougli not sabi- 
 tary, yet less pernicions. 
 
 Saij not tliou, Cod hath caused me to err ; 
 for he hatJt no need of the sinful man * . Tlioiigh 
 this was written by an apocryphal author, 
 I take the sense to be perfectly canonical, 
 and expressly confirmed by canonical scrip- 
 ture. We read in the epistle of James, 
 Let no man say tdien he is tempted^ I am 
 tempted of God, for God cannot be tempted 
 ivith evil, neither tempteth he any vmn, — Do 
 not err, my beloved brethren ; every good gift, 
 and every perfect gift is from above, and cometli 
 down from the Father of lights -f-. Whence 
 then is evil ? This is an ancient question, 
 and the answer to it is one and simple, frojn 
 the abuse of liberty. If you press me fur- 
 ther, and ask. Why the Almighty endued 
 any of his creatures with a power which 
 he foresaw they would abuse ? I would 
 answer. Because he foresaw likewise that 
 the abuse might be over-ruled to ends wor- 
 
 * Ecclesiasticus XV. 12. f James i. 13-17. 
 
408 Importance of dlstinguisJiing [Part iv. 
 
 thy of his infinite wisdom. If you reply, 
 This is saying but little, and can never satisfy 
 the curiosity of a philosopher: — Allowing 
 this, it may be sufficient notwithstanding to 
 satisfy the modesty of a christian *. 
 
 * ** If it be asked, Why does God permit so much 
 sin in his creation ? I confess I cannot answer the ques- 
 tion, but must Jay my hand upon my mouth. He 
 giveth no account of his conduct to the children of 
 men. It is our part to obey his commands, and not to 
 say unto him, Why dost thou thus ? 
 
 " Hypotheses might be framed ; but, while we have 
 ground to be satisfied, that he does nothing but what is 
 right, it is more becoming us to acknowledge, that the 
 ends and reasons of his universal government are beyond 
 our knowledge, and perhaps beyond the comprehension 
 of human understanding. We cannot penetrate so far 
 into the counsel of the Almighty, as to know all the 
 reasons why it became him, of whojn are all things, and 
 to whom are all things, to create, not only machines, 
 which are solely moved by his hands, but servants and 
 children, who, by obeying his commands, and imitating 
 his moral perfections, might rise to a high degree of 
 glory and happiness in his favour, or, by perverse dis- 
 obedience, might incur guilt and just punishment. In 
 this he appears to us awful in his justice, as well as 
 amiable in his oroodntss. 
 
 " But, as he disdains not to appeal to men for the 
 equity of his proceedings towards them when his cha- 
 
Sect, hi.] Providence from NccessiU/. 409 
 
 There never, I believe, was a time when 
 men delivered their opinions witli more 
 hardiness than at present, or with a more 
 frank avowal of their consequenees, how- 
 ever shoeking they may be to common 
 sense, or offensive to virtue and piety. This 
 bold procedure, although its effect upon 
 weak or corrupt minds is to be often lament- 
 ed, we may hope is sometimes of service in 
 awakening the caution of the more sober 
 and discerning. Such as are of this cha- 
 racter, upon finding, for instance, that the 
 doctrine of necessity, when followed up 
 with intrepidity, leads to consequences which 
 they justly regard with horror, may learn 
 to look with a prudent jealousy on any 
 opinion that has a close affinity with it, by' 
 M'hatever authority, or under whatever pre- 
 tences it may come recommended. 
 
 The path of truth is often narrow and 
 
 ractftr is impeached, we may, with humble reverence, 
 plead for God, and vindicate that moral excellence 
 which is the glory of his nature, and of which the 
 image is the glory and the perfection of man." 
 
 Re id's Essays on the Powers of the Human Mind, 
 vol. iii. p. 441-5. 
 
410 Importance of distingidshing [Part i v. 
 
 arduous; like some passages over the Alps, 
 where it is dangerous to look on either side, 
 as by misplacing a single step the traveller 
 plunges down a precipice. The doctrines 
 of providence and human liberty are con- 
 fessedly of this nature ; which should excite 
 the utmost wariness in those who endeavour 
 to trace them, lest they should either de- 
 grade man into a piece of mechanism, or 
 withdraw him from his proper state of de- 
 pendance; lest they should philosophize 
 providence into fate, or detract from its over- 
 ruling direction. 
 
 Observing this medium, a good man will 
 keep on his way across the precipices of 
 error, and amidst the winds of warring opi- 
 nions, unshaken and serene. If he looks 
 back to his original creation, it will be with 
 thankfulness; if onward to his final des- 
 tiny, it will be with hope ; and when he sur- 
 veys the present disordered state of the 
 world, and sees multitudes of his fellow- 
 creatures, 
 
 " Living in hatred, enmity, and strife 
 Among themselves, and levying cruel wars, 
 Wasting the earth, each other to destroy.'* 
 
Sect. III.] Providence from Necessity, 411 
 
 This, though it will move his sorrow, will 
 not destroy his |>eacc ; he will view all this 
 evil under a divine control, and unite in 
 reverent confession w ith the royal prophet. 
 
 The xcrath of man sliall praise God; the re- 
 mainder of icrath he icill restrain *. 
 
 * Psalm Ixxvi. 10. 
 
( 412 ) [Part IV. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Containing some relieving Considerations, drawn 
 from particular Topics ; — -from the pliability 
 of Man to his exterrial Sitnatimi ; — from the 
 great and good Examples frequently displayed 
 in a hostile Period ; — and from the general 
 Vanity and unimportance of the World. 
 
 Thus far of the general doctrine of a su- 
 perintending Providence, and of the sopport 
 it may afford to good men amidst all the 
 evils which either they contemplate in the 
 world around them, or w^hich they are called 
 to suffer themselves. We shall now pro- 
 ceed to some more particular topics, which 
 may contribute to the same purpose. 
 
 I. The power there is in our nature to 
 adapt itself to a wonderful variety of cir- 
 cumstances, may yield some relieving con- 
 siderations to every benevolent mind while 
 it surveys the present state of things. Man 
 
Sect, iv.] Rcluriug Considcrulions, S(i\ 413 
 
 can derive his noarishment from a greater 
 variety of food than any other animal, and 
 endure a ureater diversity of chmate; he is 
 found in all latitudes, and can pass from the 
 equator to the pole without material incon- 
 venience. His mind is no less capable of 
 forming itself to his political situation, with 
 very little assistance from learning, or moral 
 discipline. The great mass of mankind 
 who are born to poverty and toil, are gene- 
 rally as satisfied with their humble lot, from 
 being early accustomed to it, as those who 
 occupy the superior ranks of life appear to 
 be with theirs. 
 
 Nor will oppression itself, superadded to 
 daily drudgery, totally embitter human life, 
 if the yoke be not at once so galling and un- 
 remitting, as that the bruises it inflicts have 
 no time to heal. 
 
 Should we look into those despotic states 
 ^vhere acts of extreme violence are rare, 
 we might possibly fmd that the bulk of the 
 people pass their lives with tolerable ease 
 and quiet. The peasants whose abode is at 
 the foot of Vesuvius, although they often 
 hear the mountain rumble, and see it now 
 
414 Relieving Considerations [Part iv. 
 
 and then emit volumes of smoke, mingled 
 with fire, and sometimes perhaps are sprin- 
 kled with its ashes ; yet, knowing that those 
 eruptions which endanger their hves and 
 property are used to happen only after long 
 intervals, will continue to cultivate their 
 vineyards, and pui^ue their various occupa- 
 tions, with as little fear or uneasiness as if 
 they dwelt at a hundred leagues distance. 
 
 11. Again : The most stormy periods in 
 these latter ages have been tempered and 
 illuminated with many generous displays of 
 humanity and courtesy, which I suppose 
 no one can contemplate without emotions 
 of delight and satisfaction. To multiply 
 examples would be unnecessary, as they 
 will easily occur to every one who is the 
 least acquainted with general history ; and 
 those he will find most impressive which he 
 has observed for himself I shall only spe- 
 cify the following, which first offer them- 
 selves to mv recollection. 
 
 The noble behaviour of the renowned 
 and rallant son of our Edward the Third 
 towards the French king, who became his 
 
Sect. IV.] from panicular Topics. 415 
 
 prii?oner at the battle of Poictiers, must, at 
 the time, have greatly softened the anguish 
 of defeat, and darted a cheeriuj^ ray throujxh 
 the general horrors of war ; and has since 
 found a sympathy in every heart*. The 
 conduct of the duke of Guise, during the 
 intestine broils of France, towards the prince 
 of Conde, who fell into liis hands at the 
 battle of Dreux, displayed a similar mag- 
 
 * " Edward ordered a magnificent repast to be pre- 
 pared in his tent, and he himself served the royal cap- 
 tive as if he Iiad been one of the retinue ; lie stood at 
 the king's back during the meal, constantly refused to 
 take a place at table, and declared, that being a subject, 
 he was too well acquainted with the distance between 
 his own rank, and that of royal majesty, to assume 
 such freedom."" — " Upon his landing at Southwark, he 
 was met by a prodigious concourse of people, of all 
 ranks and stations. The prisoner was clad in royal ap- 
 parel, and mounted on a white steed ; — the conqueror 
 rode by his side in meaner attire, and carried by a black 
 palfry. In this situation, much more glorious than all 
 the insolent parade of a Roman triumph, he passed 
 through the streets of London, and presented the king 
 of France to his father, who advanced to meet him 
 with the same courtesy, as if he had been a neighbour- 
 ing potentate, that had voluntarily come to pay him a 
 friendly visit." See Hume*s Hist, of England. 
 
416 ~ Relieving Considerations [Part iv. 
 
 nanimity, and could not fail of producing 
 the same effects ; the duke nobly entertained 
 his captive at his own table, and admitted 
 him to share the same bed, though before 
 they had lived upon terms of the bitterest 
 enmity *. At the termination of the catho- 
 lic league, which had directed its force 
 against Henry the Fourth of France, the 
 duke of Maine, who had been its last chief) 
 came to make his submission to the king at 
 Monceaux\ The king received him with 
 the greatest cordialitj^ and taking him by 
 the hand, conducted him through his park, 
 and pointed out to him the various improve- 
 ments and embellishments he had in con- 
 templation. As they walked at a good pace, 
 the duke, who was corpulent and crippled 
 with the sciatica, found it difficult to keep 
 up with his company; which the king ob- 
 serving, My cousin, said he, we go too 
 fast for you. To which the duke assenting, 
 added, that he found himself quite spent, 
 and was ready to drop down with heat and 
 suffocation. Hold you there, my cousin, said 
 
 * See Thuanus. 
 
Sect. IV.] from part Iculur Topics, 417 
 
 the king pleasaiitlj^ tap])ing him on the 
 shoulder, 'Tis the only revenge you xcill ever 
 experience froin vie *. A more recent and 
 domestic instance of modest heroism, and, 
 in my opinion, no less worthy of celebra- 
 tion, I shall take the liberty to add on this 
 occasion. In the late American revolution, 
 Avhen a large body of the British forces were 
 compelled to yield u]) their arms at a cer- 
 tain place assigned, the Americans, to spare 
 the feelings of the vanquished, kept closely 
 within their lines during this humiliating 
 ceremonj^ ; an act which showed these brave 
 colonists worthy of the independence for 
 A^ hich they fought. In general, the human- 
 ity with which wars have been waged in 
 modern times, opposed to their former fe- 
 rocity, affords matter of consolatry reflec- 
 tion amidst all the evils that necessarily 
 attend them. 
 
 The great and good characters which are 
 formed and eminently displayed in a turbu- 
 
 * Sec Mcmoircs de Sully , torn. iii. p. 57-9, where 
 the story is told with admirable naivctt. 
 
 E E 
 
418 Relieving Considerations [Part iv. 
 
 lent period, is an advantage growing out of 
 public calamity, which every man is called 
 upon to improve to his own profit. Had 
 there been no civil commotions at the time 
 of the reformation, the world would have 
 wanted the illustrious example of John 
 Frederic, elector of Saxony, who bravely 
 stood forth the defender of the new doc- 
 trines, and whose unshaken magnanimity, 
 both in prosperous and adverse fortune, 
 ranked him, says Thuanus, amongst the 
 greatest of mankind, even in the judgment 
 of his enemies*. Had not the labouring 
 cause of political and religious liberty called 
 forth the heroic Gustavus Adolphus, we 
 should not have been told that, upon his 
 debarking in the isle of Usedom, at the 
 commencement of the Germanic war, he 
 fell upon his knees in the presence of his 
 army, and then turning round to his officers, 
 
 * When he was made prisoner by the emperor, and 
 practised with in the article of religion, he nobly de- 
 clared, that death was to him more eligible, than to 
 trifle with God or man by betraying his sentiments 
 through a mean worldly policy. 
 
Sect. IV.] fro)}i particular Topics. 410 
 
 observed, \\\{\\ his usual animation, tJiat. a 
 <:ood cJiristian xcould not lualic a If ad soldier*. 
 To the ci\'il wars of Fiance we owe the 
 example of Coligny's invincible fortitude, 
 always great in his misfortunes, but never 
 greater than at his death. Compare him 
 with Cato in his last moments, and vou 
 will perceive the infinite disparity -f. I have 
 
 * Harte's Life of Gustavus, vol. i. p. 153. 
 
 t Having long combated in defence of the reform- 
 ed religion, and from every defeat returning to the 
 charge more formidable than he was before, he fell 
 at last by treachery, who could not be subdued by arms. 
 Deceived by the oaths and flatteries ofJiis prince, Charles 
 the Ninth, he was butchered at the massacre of Paris, 
 together with thousands of his brethren. Just before 
 this bloody tragedy, he observed to those around him, 
 " I perceive they are about to take my life ; this event I 
 have long foreseen without fear, and am now prepared 
 to meet it with resignation. I think myself happy to 
 die in full possession of my faculties, to die in God, 
 whose grace supports me by a sure hope of eternal life." 
 Having scarcely dismissed his friends out of concern for 
 their safety, the assassin broke into his apartment, and 
 asking him, " Art thou Coligny r" '* I am," he replied 
 with an air of composure, adding, *' Young man, thou 
 oughtest to respect my grey hairs; — but do what thou 
 intendcit." Immediately he received the dagger in his 
 
 E e2 
 
420 Relievifig Considerations [Part iv. 
 
 selected these instances, because the present 
 age has need to be admonished, that there 
 is no such invincible opposition between 
 piety and true greatness, as some maintain, 
 and others are ready to imagine. 
 
 To these considerations we may add the 
 uncertain event of w^ars and national com- 
 motions, both in their immediate and more 
 remote consequences, often so very differ- 
 ent from all that the greatest human saga- 
 city would have judged probable; which 
 should equally serve to check our presump- 
 tion, and to moderate our fears; should 
 neither suffer us to be vainly elated with 
 success, nor to despair of the public in the 
 most threatening conjuncture; much less 
 to be played upon by every political prog- 
 nosticator, to dance when he is pleased to 
 pipe, or w^hen he mourns, to sink down in 
 hopeless dejection. 
 
 III. Further ; a serious contemplation of 
 the general vanit}^ of the world, whatever 
 
 bosom. For this account we are indebted to the impar- 
 tial Thuanus. 
 
Sect. IV.] from particular Topics. 421 
 
 external form it assumes, may, by lessening 
 our expectations from it, at least help to 
 mitigate the anguish of disappointment, 
 which, we all know, is one of the bitterest 
 ingredients in the cup of human misery. 
 Proofs of this vanity ur<xe us on every side, 
 and, at intervals, make impression on every 
 mind; yet men generally continue to hug 
 the illusion they are under till it is torn from 
 them by the hand of death. When Henry 
 the Fourth of France was murdered by 
 Ravaillac, just at the time he was entering 
 upon his great enterprize, which it is sup- 
 posed was projected with a view to reduce 
 all Europe into one republic ; his last words 
 are recorded to have been, Ce iCest rieii; 
 *' 'Tis nothing;" which I am willing to un- 
 derstand as expressing his sense, at that 
 awful moment, of the vanity that cleaves 
 to all worldly designs and expectations; a 
 sentiment naturally arising from his situation, 
 and which almost every man feels the truth 
 of when he comes to die. 
 
 As man, when he is called from this 
 world, enters into an unchangeable state of 
 happiness or misery, reason tells him, that 
 
422 liellevhig Considerations [Part iv. 
 
 he ought to value every thing on this side 
 the grave, according to the help it may af- 
 ford hirn to avoid the one and s'ecure the 
 other. When he has learned this lesson, 
 and is made thoroughly sensible of its im- 
 portance, he will look on human life with 
 different eyes than he did before. 
 
 Those things which are generally regarded 
 with dread, such as sickness, poverty, and 
 disgrace, he will contemplate under a less 
 frightful aspect, as serving to weaken his 
 present attachments, and induce a serious 
 consideration of what will be hereafter ; and 
 those things which are generally the objects 
 of eager competition, will rather excite his 
 caution than his envy, as by drawing men's 
 affections to this life, they diminish their 
 concern for the next. 
 
 When in like manner he views the affairs 
 of nations in the light of futurity, he w^ill 
 see them to be of little importance, except 
 as they relate to the interests of true reli- 
 gion and rational liberty ; which are here 
 placed together, as the latter is generally 
 necessary to the success of the former. 
 Whether the white or the red rose has the 
 
Sect. IV.] from particular Topics, 423 
 
 prevalence, whetlier a certain province or 
 branch of commerce is in the hands of one 
 nation or another, he will regard as mat- 
 ters of small consequence in themsehes 
 considered. All wars of trade or ambition, 
 further than as they affect the interests 
 above-named, will give him no disturbance ; 
 or, at most, will excite only an emotion of 
 pity or indignation, for human weakness or 
 wickedness. 
 
(' 424 ) [Part iv. 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 Relieving Considerations amidst the many lite- 
 vary, political, and religious Contentions that 
 so often agitate human Life ; with some con- 
 cluding Reflections. 
 
 From military feuds let us turn our at- 
 tention for a moment to literary, political, 
 and religious contentions, and try, as in 
 the preceding cases, if we can discover any 
 diminishing circumstances, which may help 
 us to view them with more tranquillity. 
 
 I. It is disgraceful to human reason to 
 fmd how much learned controversy has been 
 lavished upon mere words and names. In 
 the reign of Henry the Eighth, a curious 
 dispute arose at Cambridge, concerning the 
 right method of pronouncing the Greek 
 tongue. Sir John Cheke, at the head of 
 one party, stood up for a full and broad 
 
Sect, v.] Other relieving Topics, 425 
 
 pronunciation ; Dr. Cajus, at the head of 
 the opposite paity, defended the old prac- 
 tice. The business was carried on for some 
 time with much heat, till Gardiner, bishop 
 of Winchester, who w^as then chancellor of 
 the uniA'ersity, interposed; and, as might 
 be expected, passed sentence against the 
 innovatoi-s, with a penalty on all such as 
 presumed to adopt the new method, which, 
 notwithstanding his decree, afterwards gene- 
 rally prevailed *. A like notable contest 
 was kindled at Paris, betwixt the univer- 
 sity there, and the college royal, upon the 
 right way of pronouncing the Latin lan- 
 guage ; and particularly whether the two 
 words quiscjids and quanquam, should be pro- 
 nounced kiskis and kankam, or not; the 
 university contending for the affirmative, 
 and the college for the negative. At length 
 the matter grew so serious, that it came 
 under the cognizance of the parliament, 
 who, after grave deliberation no doubt, 
 wisely determined to leave both parties to 
 
 * Fuller's History of the University of Cambridge, 
 p. 119-20. 
 
426 Other relieving Topics, [Part iv. 
 
 their own discretion*. Again: What im- 
 mense pains have been taken by learned 
 
 * Perhaps it may amuse some readers to see this 
 erudite controversy more at length, as follows : 
 
 ** Si des contestations elevees au sujet de I'orthographe, 
 nous passons a. celles qu'a suscitees la prononciation, 
 nous verrons encore les grammariens divises. L'impos- 
 sibilite de S9avoir comment ii faut prononcer la plupart 
 des mots Latins, et les idces, a cet egard, des modernes 
 Latinistes, mirent autrefois en combustion I'universite 
 de Paris et le college royal. De serviles compilateurs 
 des phrases, d'une langue qu'on a bien de la peine a 
 entendre, plus amateurs des mots que des choses, oserent 
 se donner pour des oracles en fait de prononciation. 
 Mais, nonobstant TinfaiUibilite que chacun s'attribuoit, 
 ils ne furent pas moins en guerre pour sgavoir de quelle 
 maniere on prononceroit les deux iwois quisquis et qiiam- 
 quayn. L'universite de Paris vouloit qu'on pronongat 
 kiskisy kankam. Quelques professeurs du college roijal, 
 nouvellement etablis, jaloux de se faire un nom dans le 
 monde Latin, etoient d'avis contraire. lis opinoient 
 fortement pour qu'on pronon^at quisquis, quanquam. 
 Cette derniere prononciation etoit alors une nouveautc. 
 La Sorbonne la crut dangereuse pour la religion et pour 
 Fetat : elle anathematisa quiconque ne se conformeroit 
 point a la prononciation d'usage dans les ecoles. 
 
 ** Les professeurs royaux se mocquerent des pareilles 
 censures. lis prononcerent le Latin comme ils crurent 
 devoir le faire, et engagerent a un coup d'eclat un jeune 
 bachelier, plus ardent encore qu'eux pour la nouvelle 
 
 \ 
 
Sect, v.] Oilier rdkving Topics, 427 
 
 men in editing- the heathen classics, and 
 what veliement contentions have thence 
 arisen, must be known by every one who is 
 the least acquainted with the history of 
 literature. Let one instance suffice for all. 
 In the works of Terence alone, contained in 
 a small ]>ocket volume, have been noted, 
 we are told, no less than thirty thousand 
 different readings* ; which, at a moderate 
 
 prononciation. Cet abbe, au mcpris des ordies reiteres 
 de la Sorbonnc, pronocoit paitout avec affectation quis- 
 gids et qiianquam, U fut bintot cite au tribunal de la 
 faculte de theologie, qui vouloit le depouiller du revcnu 
 de ses benefices. Appel sur le champ de la part de 
 Tabbe au parlement ; TafFaire alloit devenir serieuse ; 
 mais les professeurs royaux, engages d'honneur a ne 
 pas laisser condamner le plus zele defenseur de leur 
 opinion, allerent en corps a faudience, represcnterent 
 avec eloquence a la cour I'injustice des proccdes de la 
 Sorbonne. Le parlement eut egard a la priere, et a la 
 qualite des supplians. II retablit Tabbe dans tous ses 
 droits, et laissa chacun libre de prononcer le Latin 
 comme on voudroit.'' 
 
 Querelles Litteraires, torn. ii. p. 121-3. 
 
 * I advance this from memory, and on the authority 
 of Dr. Bcntlcy, (under the assumed name of Phi- 
 leleiitherus LipsiensisJ in his excellent remarks on Col- 
 lins' Disconrst: of Tree-thinkimr^ 
 
428 Other relieving Topics. [Part iv. 
 
 computation, must have occasioned fifteen 
 thousand critical disputes ; and all this learn- 
 ed toil and contention spent upon an old 
 play-book ! 
 
 These wars and occupations of gram- 
 marians and critics, were it not for the waste 
 of time and talent which they occasion, 
 might divert a sober man in a weary hour ; 
 to see such labor ineptiarum, so many difficiles 
 nugce, the arrantest trifles treated with such 
 airs of importance, such eagerness of oppo- 
 sition, and pompous declamation. One 
 might suppose the safety of the country de- 
 pended upon settling a reading in Virgil or 
 Horace, and that a happy emendation me- 
 rited a public triumph. '* The glory,'' says 
 Sanadon, *' of this correction (namelj^, of si 
 for sic, in one of the odes of Horace) is due 
 toRodelliusf." 
 
 Nor have the lucubrations and strifes of 
 the learned been less idly emplo5^ed upon 
 points of ancient history, chronolog}^, and 
 geography. What is it to us whether the 
 siege of Troj^ as sung by Homer, was in 
 
 * See Francis's Horace, lib. i. carm. 16. 
 
Sect, v.] OlJicr relieving Topics. 429 
 
 the main a reality or a lictiou ? — Whether 
 some imclouhted historical event, allowed 
 to have ha[)|)enecl several thousand years 
 ago, and now hecome of no consequence, 
 fell out a few years sooner or later? — Or 
 whether a certain city of the same antiquity, 
 was situated on a mountain or a plain, on 
 this or the other side of a river, and had 
 walls a hundred cubits high, or only fifty ? 
 Yet these, or similar disquisitions, have 
 often occupied the learned world, and ex- 
 cited the wonder or ridicule of the un- 
 learned. 
 
 Among the subjects of philosophical and 
 metaphysical debate, it is a consolation to 
 reflect, that many of them are unmeaning 
 or fi'ivolous, many too abstruse for vulgar 
 minds, and many too wild and absurd to 
 be o'enerally mischievous. Besides it must 
 be remembered, that in these intellectual 
 collisions, light is sometimes struck out which 
 leads to useful discoveries. 
 
 How much has the si)eculative part of 
 mankind been agitated, at different periods, 
 by quotions such as the following: Are 
 substantial forms di.>tinc;-uishable from the 
 
430 OtJter relieving Topics, [Part iv. 
 
 matter in which they are supposed to exist ? 
 ■ — Are genera and species, enUa rationis ? — 
 Can an accident pass from one subject to 
 another ? — Are the essences of things indi- 
 visible or eternal ? — Is eternitv a successive 
 duration ? — Does the divine knowledge com- 
 prehend negations and privations ? — Is there 
 any heat in ^\x^ or smell in a rose ? — Is there 
 an external world, or, in other words, are 
 sun, moon, and stars, our rivers and cities, 
 our fleets and armies, nothing more than 
 unsubstantial visions, or bare ideas in the 
 mind ? — These are questions which have 
 produced, and others like them, or the 
 same may again produce, much subtle con- 
 troversy among persons of a curious, inqui- 
 sitive, or sceptical turn ; but are never likely 
 to make any serious impression upon the 
 great mass of mankind, who are happily 
 too bus}^ or too dull to interest themselves 
 in such idle, absurd, yet often dangerous 
 speculations. 
 
 11. In the discussion of political questions, 
 as they generally come nearer to our in- 
 terests, there is more need to watch over 
 
Sect. v. ] Otlicr relieving Topics, A3 1 
 
 our peace. No wise man will venture upon 
 these seas unless compelled by his duty; 
 and should his situation in lite require him 
 to take a part in such discussions, he will be 
 careful to conduct himself with moderation, 
 to make every equitable concession to his 
 opponents, and to maintain a prudent jea- 
 lousy of his own opinions and party. 
 
 It is a relief amidst such controversies to 
 consider, that, by a lively display of the 
 natural rights of man on the one hand, and 
 the necessitv of sfovernment and subordina- 
 tion on the other, they may equally serve to 
 check the tyranny of rulers, and to enforce 
 a due obedience on the part of the subject. 
 
 And though it is true that political opi- 
 nions are often no more than the pretexts of 
 interest or ambition, of men out of place, 
 who endeavour to supplant those who are 
 in ; yet even in this case we must not for- 
 get, that in the present corrupt state, where 
 all power is in so much danger of abuse, no 
 ^YQ^ government is hkely to continue long 
 w^ithout a vigilant opposition ; and if true 
 patriots step not forward to undertake this 
 service, it may be better to have it performed 
 
432 OtJier relieving Topics, [Part iv. 
 
 by others who falsely assume the title, than 
 to see it absolutely abandoned. Indeed to 
 maintain an exact poise may be deemed 
 impracticable ; the balance will be sure to 
 incline on one side ; and all that can be 
 done by the most disinterested and enlight- 
 ened patriotism, is, by constitutional and 
 seasonable checks, to preserve the state from 
 running into the extreme either of tyranny 
 or anarchy; evils, of such a magnitude, 
 that it may not be easy to determine which 
 of them is greater, or which more strongly 
 indicates the avenging hand of heaven 
 against a sinful nation. On the whole, how- 
 ever, I conceive the world to have suffered 
 most from the former, which sometimes by 
 open violence, and oftener by a secret cor- 
 rosion, has destroyed the peace and comfort 
 of millions. It is an evil which may en- 
 dure for ages ; whereas anarchical commo- 
 tions, like hurricanes or earthquakes, though 
 frequently tremendous while the}^ continue, 
 are of a transient nature. Hence of all 
 human interests, none is more sacred than 
 that of rational liberty; and of all human 
 characters, none more honourable than that 
 
Sect, v.] Other rcllevini^ Topics: 43S 
 
 of a temperate andisteady advocate for the 
 natural and just rights of mankind. , 
 
 r f 
 
 III. Amidst this noisv contentions world it 
 might have been expected, that the church, 
 at least, would have proved a calm and 
 quiet refuge ; yet the case is. often much 
 otherwise. Besides its tossings from with- 
 out, this harbour is subject to many inter- 
 nal commotions of itjs own ; it is.tlte-best 
 "howevear we can meet with on this side 
 h^eaven.' 
 
 .^:j;I shall here assumie what, I suppose, will 
 easily be;; granted, that, notwithstanding the 
 various; heresies which froin time to time 
 hav^ jiSsnt the peace of christian societies, 
 of those diftei^nces . K.hith have divided 
 truly good men, the greater part have been 
 jof'6n:iall moment, and -the rest more in 
 name than in r<^ality. i nj 
 
 Hei thereforfev wi^j^ duly ct)nsults \m re- 
 ligious 'quiet, will, cjiiect ; his attention to 
 t^ho^e |X)ints in >y,hiQk',he,observ,es humble 
 and pious christi{u>s are e4)Sentially agreed, 
 and w^ill studiously .^indeavour to avoid all 
 nominaiand unimpprtant controversy. 
 
 F F 
 
434 Other relieving Topics. [Part iv. 
 
 Should any infidel here ask insultingly. 
 And what are those points in which good 
 christians are thus agreed ? I will tell him 
 a few. They are thus agreed in holding 
 the insufficiency of mere reason to instruct 
 us in the great concern of religion : he holds 
 the contrary. They are thus agreed in ex- 
 pecting remission and divine acceptance 
 only through a mediator : this expectation 
 he renounces. And lastly, in order to re- 
 store to our nature its capacity of true hap- 
 piness by the renovation of its moral powers, 
 they are thus agreed in holding the neces- 
 sity of a divine agency : which he derides. 
 In these points they are in agreement as to 
 the substance, though they may differ as to 
 the mode in Avhich they choose to conceive 
 
 or express them. ^^*''- 
 
 Again, it will be useful to consider, that 
 parties in religion (a& well as in govern- 
 ment) may be attended with coiisiderable 
 advantages, to put in balance with their 
 evils. They may n6fc only ^erve to keep 
 one another in check, which is sometimes 
 iiecessary to the pteservation of^' general 
 liberty ; but also to kindle a laudable emu- 
 
Sect, v.] Other relieving Topics. 43.) 
 
 lation, which may happily contribute to the 
 advancement both of hberty, truth, and 
 piet5\ And it appears evidently the design 
 of the apostle Paul, by displaying the pro- 
 gress of the gospel among the Gentiles, to 
 call forth this spirit among his countrymen 
 the Jews *. 
 
 Since the time of Luther it must, I think, 
 be allowed, that the Roman catholic clergy 
 have been less corrupt in doctrine, more 
 exemplary in their lives, and more distin- 
 guished for learning, than before that pe- 
 riod ; and that this, in part at least, may justly 
 be considered as the effect of protestantism. 
 By observing the eminent literary abilities 
 and fervent unsophisticated piety of many 
 of the reformers, and by the free discussion 
 to which the doctrine and Avorship they had 
 received by tradition were now subjected, 
 they appear in some degree to have been 
 roused from the long slumber of superstition 
 and ignorance into which they had fallen, 
 and gradually led to make concessions and 
 qualifying explanations, which cannot, in 
 
 * Rom. XI, 14. 
 F F 2 
 
436 Other relieving Topics. [Part iv.' 
 
 every" instance, be imputed to a base design 
 of ensnaring their opponents, without a 
 gross offence both to charity and probabi- 
 lity. ; / 
 
 In the war to which christianitj^ is ex- 
 posed from without, I will touch a kw par- 
 ticulars, which may help to allay the fears, 
 and encourage the. hopes of its disciples, 
 notwithstanding all the triumphs of unbe- 
 lievers. I 
 
 To hear the language of these men, it 
 might be supposed that victory had decided 
 so entirely in their favour, as scarcely to 
 leave room to expect that even the name of 
 Christianity would long continue; and it 
 must be acknowledged, that no skill or 
 exertion has been wanting, on their part, 
 to procure its total extinction. 
 ,|j.lt has been said, that the blood' of martyrs 
 isthe^seedlofthe chjumha-vAvj^xe of the truth 
 of this, and not merfely for want of power^ 
 its modfernl adversaries condemn all recourse 
 Ito: fine.! and sword, and have commonly 
 anadfii their assaults in the less violent way 
 of arsrument and raillerv. 
 
 What was observed of Csesar, that he 
 
Sect, v.] Otiier relieving Topics\ 437 
 
 came sobe?- and collected to the overt Iirow of- the 
 republic, may in some measure be applied 
 to those who advance under an appearance 
 of reason to the destruction of the christian 
 system. The deist, by discoursing learnedly 
 on the sulFiciencv of the lisfht of nature, 
 endeavours to set aside the necessity of re- 
 velation. The sceptic, by displaying the 
 obscurity in which all things are involved, 
 would infer that our wisest course is to be- 
 lieve nothing. And the atheist, by his spe- 
 culations on fate and chance, matter and 
 motion, tries to pull up all religion by the 
 roots, under a show of scientific wisdom. 
 
 The way of raillery is no less employed 
 in this contest, and often with still more 
 success. A noble writer * seems to have 
 been of opinion, that if, instead of a serious 
 opposition, this method had been used against 
 the gospel at its first publication, it would 
 never have obtained tooting in the world. 
 Whether the hint was partly taken from 
 him, I know not; however, it is certain 
 
 * Lord Shaftsbury. 
 
438 Other relieving Topics, [Part rr. 
 
 that, since his time, this engine has been 
 played with singular industry. 
 
 Yet after all these assaults, whether grave 
 or ludicrous, the truth of Christianity re- 
 mains unshaken ; for as it stands confirmed 
 by direct and^ositive evidence, amounting 
 to the highest moral demonstration, no ob- 
 jections or railleries can ever affect the main 
 cause. 
 
 One great artifice of unbelievers is to 
 confound Christianity with superstition, and 
 then to triumph over both, when the vic- 
 tory is obtained only over the latter. In 
 this the church of Rome has afforded them 
 much advantage. Among the idle legends. 
 of monkish visions they would comprehend 
 the most authentic records of divine reve- 
 lation. Under the censure of unprofitable 
 rigours and austerities, they would include all 
 that self-denial which the gospel prescribes, 
 and on which depends the very existence of 
 true religion in the world. From the inef- 
 ficacy of human penances and satisfactions, 
 they would take occasion to expatiate in 
 favour of virtue as the only meritorious 
 
Sect, v.] Other relieving Topics. 439 
 
 sacrifice. From the pompous puerilities of 
 popish ceremonies, they Avould draw con- 
 tempt on all external worship. To discredit 
 the mysteries of Christianity, they will, per- 
 haps, ostentatiously expose the absurdity of 
 transubstantiation, and then be ready to 
 exclaim with a celebrated Arabian meta- 
 physician *, If the christians first make their 
 god, and then eat him, let my soul remain xvitk 
 the philosophers. Yet what have all these 
 errors and depravations, or a thousand more, 
 to do with the pure, primitive, unadul- 
 terated gospel of Jesus Christ ? Nothing. 
 
 As, therefore, these insidious attempts 
 have no real force, except as they bear upon 
 the corruptions of Christianity, it may be 
 hoped they will eventually conduce to its 
 advancement. 
 
 Let us consider a little their effects on 
 Roman catholic countries, which nuike up 
 so large a portion of Christendom. 
 
 One effect undoubtedly is, the propaga- 
 tion of infidelity ; by which I here under- 
 stand a rejection of all revealed religion, 
 
 * Averrocs. 
 
440 Qther relkvingTopics. [Part iv. 
 
 whether real or fictitious. This however 
 can hardly be supposed to happen unless 
 among persons of some learning, who form 
 the minor part in every in^tion. The mind, 
 when rude or unlettered, is known to be 
 strongly biassed, in the first instance, in fa-* 
 vour of supernatural claims and pret^uBions; 
 and to be more in danger\iof fanaticism or 
 superstition, than of absolute infidelity ; in- 
 deed a smattering of science often sets it 
 too much the other wav ; while true wis- 
 dom gives it a due direction. 
 
 It seems, therefore, improbable, that the 
 bulk of any people whatever should become 
 mere sceptics and unbelievers; men who, 
 of all others, are least likely to be wrought 
 upon by reason or religion; and we have 
 ground to believe, that even the generality 
 of the French nation at this time, are rather 
 wavering catholics than settled infidels ; and 
 that, in their present fluctuation of opinion, 
 they are less indisposed to the reception of 
 pure Christianity, than before their bigotted 
 attachment to popish errors and supersti- 
 tions was shaken by the reason or the ridi- 
 cule of tlieir philosophers. 
 
Sfxt. v.] Other rcUaVng Topics, . 441 
 
 Thus ma\^ our modoru infidels, however 
 manifestly their design is to spread deism* 
 and even atheism, be considei'ed as pioneers 
 preparing a freer course for the gospel; by, 
 removing some of those obstacles which su- 
 perstition and bigotry had thrown in the 
 way. We may consider Voltaire as a pre- 
 cursor of protestantism among his country- 
 men, by weakenin^g the authority of the 
 church of Rome, by exposing her corrup- 
 tions, and by exciting a spirit of inquiry, 
 which however danii^erous when it runs to 
 excess, is hisrhlv serviceable to the cause of 
 truth when temperately exercised. 
 
 Further : Although the late commotions 
 in France, for which she is not a little in- 
 debted to her philosophers, have terminated 
 as such commotions have generally done, 
 and therefore as might liave been expected; 
 we may still indulge a ho|)e that, in the 
 final result, the people, instructed by their 
 experience of the two extremes of repub- 
 lican confusion and a military government, 
 will be prepared to welcome and to improve 
 a system of rational liberty, includins", as 
 I conceive every such system will do, a 
 
442 Concluding Reflections, [Part iv. 
 
 general toleration in matters of religion. 
 In which case, it is not improbable that the 
 seeds of protestantism which remain scat- 
 tered in that country would soon shoot up 
 and multiply, that teachers would quickly 
 arise from among themselves, and reformed 
 churches spread themselves through the 
 land; and that volatile nation, which has 
 been the first in vanity and impiety, and 
 the great corrupter of Europe, might, in no 
 very distant period, thus become an exam- 
 ple of sober manners, and unadulterated 
 Christianity. 
 
 By such an example, a spirit of reforma- 
 tion might find its way into other catholic 
 countries, and gradually recover them to 
 the purity of the gospel, both in its faith 
 and worship. 
 
 IV. These conjectures, although the 
 event should prove them to have been erro- 
 neous, correspond at least to the doctrine 
 we would here inculcate, namely, That in 
 order to peace of mind we should learn to 
 view every thing on its best side, and in the 
 fairest light. Where nature has bestowed 
 
Sect, v.] Cmduding Reflectiojis. 443 
 
 this turn of thinking, it is an inheritance 
 beyond all outward possessions ; and where 
 it is wanting, it should be studiously sought 
 as the most valuable acquisition of reason 
 and philosophy ; still more should we seek 
 it as a fruit of that divine charity which 
 thiiiketJi no einl, believeth all things, and liopetk 
 all tilings. 
 
 Such, however, is the scene which the 
 world presents to us, that no man who duly 
 consults his true interest and satisfaction, 
 will dwell upon it more than is necessary 
 for the regulation of his own conduct. 
 Whichever way he directs his view, he is 
 sure to meet with evils of every kind, no 
 less to the hazard of his virtue, than to the 
 disturbance of his peace ; besides, without 
 a strong mind, and a more than ordinary 
 degree of piety, while he is curious to con- 
 template the present disordered state of 
 things, he may find himself unhappily be- 
 trayed into a secret arraignment of the di- 
 vine proceedings. As for rne, says the 
 Psalmist, 7nj/ feet were almost gone, ?ny steps 
 had well nigh slipt ; for I was envious at th€ 
 
444 Co7icluding Reflectiom. [Part iv. 
 
 foolish, when I saw ike prosperity of the 
 wicked *. 
 
 Wisdom would therefore teach us, to di* 
 rect our inquiries rather inward than out- 
 ward ; instead of useless speculations upon 
 the world, to pursue those which may lead 
 us into a better acquaintance with ourselves, 
 with God, and the world to come. 
 
 It would teach us also to lie as close and 
 compact in life, as our civil and social du- 
 ties will allow; since, to do otherwise, 
 would only be to expose a broader mark to 
 the arrows of fortune, to multiply our trials 
 and temptations, and, at the same time, 
 to abridge our present comfort, and obstruct 
 our future happiness. 
 
 A taste for retirement, for calm occupa- 
 tions, and simple pleasures, ought diligently 
 to be cultivated by every one who is am- 
 bitious of solid contentment, or who aspires 
 after the dignity of independence. .Sir 
 William Temple, in a letter to the king, 
 tells him, that should the court not suit him, 
 
 * Ps, Ixxlii. 
 
Sect, v.] Concluding llcjlcctions. 445 
 
 he knew the xvay back to his ga?'dcn. For AA'aiit 
 of this power of abstraction, or, as Paschal 
 says, because so feic can sit (/uiet in tbcir oicn 
 chamber, the world is filled with so much 
 competition and uproar. 
 
 But after every other resource, whetlier 
 private or public, Y would repeat it again 
 (whatever the infidelity of the age may in- 
 sinuate or affirm to the contrary) and repeat 
 it as a sentiment that I wish to be ever im- 
 pressed upon my own mind, and to leave 
 impressed upon the mind of the reeider,. — 
 'Religion is our onbj sure refuge in life and 
 death. All human power and prudence, 
 all the policy of government^ and the wis- 
 dom of philosophy, can provide no adequate 
 defence against the evils, present and fu- 
 ture, to which we stand exposed. The 
 name of the Lord is the only impregnable 
 tower; tlic rigltteous runneth into it and is 
 safe *. 
 
 * Prov. xviii. 10. 
 FINIS. 
 
 C. WHITTINGHAM. Printer. Dean Street. 
 
ERRATA. 
 
 On account of the Author's distance from the 
 press, a few typographical errors have escaped, which 
 the reader is desired to correct, as follows : 
 
 Page 23. I. 16. for Ore, read ^re. 
 
 97. 1. 14.ybr a sudden, read'doci additional. 
 
 101.1. 4. for desident esprimo, read desidentes 
 
 primo ; and 1. 6. for donee-, read 
 donee, 
 
 186. bottonii line,ybr contracted, ?Yfl!flJ controlled. 
 
 218.1. 6. iot carious y x^2iA curious. 
 
 272. 1. 21. yb?'Thebis, read Thebes. 
 
 385. 1. 1 1. for Ninevah, read Nineveh. 
 
 400. 1. 9. for dit, read disc. 
 
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