THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY 259 B97a 1847 4 $ 1' ' 4 Ml- ^ >' 4 « % $ h- %’ M^' w ^ 1 ^ ^ O / M. / $ •■V * 4 . I V> r. / • i s \ ANALOGY OF RELIGION, NATURAL AND REVEALED, TO THE CONSTitUTiON AND COURSE OF NATURE. BY JOSEPH BUTLER, LL.D., LATE BISHOP Of DURHAM. WITH AN » INTRODUCTORY PREFACE, BY BISHOP HALIFAX. 10 WHICH ARE ADDED, COPIOUS ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS \ ifOR THE EXAMINATION OF STUDENTS. BY REV. JOSEPH McKEE, A.M. STEREOTYPE ACADEMY AND SCHOOL EDITION. NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY MARK H. NEWMAN & CO., No. 199 BROADWAY 1847. ^ s> * Entered, according to Act of Congress, m the year 1847 BY MAKK H. NEWMAN & CO., In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. 4 CONTENTS. Preface to the School Edition .vii Preface, by Bishop Halifax,.1 Life of Dr. Butler, by Dr. Kippis,.19 Advertisement, . i *.27 Introduction, . i . 29 PART I. OF NATURAL RELIGION. CHAP. L Of a Future Life, . ..39 CHAP. 11. Of the Government of God by Rewards and Punishments; and par¬ ticularly of the latter, i ..... i ^ . 54 CHAP. III. Of the Moral Government of God, v ...... 64 CHAP. IV. Of a State of Probation, as implying Trial, Difficulties, and Danger, 84 CHAP. V. Of a State of Probation, as intended for Moral Discipline and im¬ provement, i 9t CHAP. VI. On the Opinion of Necessity, considered as influencing Practice, . 110 CHAP. VII. Of the Government of God, considered as a scheme, or Constitu¬ tion, imperfectly comprehended,.123 Conclusion, . . 133 CONTENTS. PART II. OF REVEALED RELIGION. CHAP. I. Pag«. Of the importance of Christianity,.139 CHAP. IL Of the supposed Presumption against a Revelation considered as Miraculous,.l54 CHAP. III. Of our incapacity of judging what were to be expected in a Revela¬ tion; and the Credibility, from Analogy, that it must contain Things appearing liable to Objections, ...... 169 CHAP. IV; Of Christianity, considered as a Scheme, or Constitution, imperfectly ,, , Comprehended, .. ^ . 173 CHAP. V. Of the particular System of Christianity; the appointment of a Me¬ diator, and the Redemption of the World by him, .... 180 CHAP. VI. Of the Want of Universality in Revelation; and of the supposed Deficiency in the proof of it, ....... 196 CHAP. VII. Of the particular evidence for Christianity, . . ; . * 213 CHAP. VIII. Of the objections which maybe made against arguing from the Anal- - ogy of Nature to Religion, ........ 241 Conclusion, .251 TWO DISSERTATIONS ON PERSONAL IDENTITY. • • • • Dissert. I. Dissert. II. 4 258 264 INTRODUCTORY PREFACE TO THE SCHOOL EDITION. The fundamental truths of Natural and Revealed Religion must underlay every correct system of academic instruction. This is an acknowledged axiom. The religious sentiment is the crown¬ ing perfection of the scholar and the man. To deny this in theory, or even practically to neglect it during a course of school-room studies, is regarded by every just and enlightened thinker as an unpardonable offence. The wisest and best men of the age, urge the paramount necessity of moral and spiritual culture in all our seminaries and schools of learning. Centuries of experience have demonstrated that “ The tree of knowledge is not the tree of life,^^ though they grow side by side, and are fostered by the same genial influences. Earnest instructors and enlightened parents are alike anxious, and ready, to discard from their systems of edu¬ cation, that sordid utilitarianism, which, by plying the intellect only, seeks to fit the student to make a figure in the world: which studies outsides and appearances—the regulation of youthful char¬ acter and conduct according to the conventionalisms of refined so¬ ciety, rather than according to that which, in itself considered, is Good, and Just, and Fair. After all the progress that has been made in modes of acquiring and communicating intellectual knowledge, little, it must be con¬ fessed, has been accomplished in modes of acquiring and commu¬ nicating moral and spiritual instruction; in awakening in the youthful heart an abiding sense of virtue and true greatness, or in fashioning its Life after the model of what it ought to be, as manifested in the life and character of the Divine Founder of Christianity. Ricli as this age is, jb.eyond all othejrs, in text-books for school?, INTRODUCTORY PREFACE. • • ♦ Viu still there is a want, an expressed need, of school-boohs that will teach the rnysteries of the Inner Life, the fundamental laws of true happiness ; the immortality and destiny of man. The study of the ancient classics, the mathematics and the natural sciences, need not, ought not, to be divorced from such themes, as it is to be feared they not unfrequently are, particularly when the aim is to make a brilliant character rather than a just thinker and a right doer. What are the facts and phenomena which natural science investigates but glimpses of the Infinite Mind, as unfolded in the material creation—the hidings and revealings of a Power whose “greatness is unsearchable?” It is surely proper and becom¬ ing that all endeavors to interpret their meaning, should be ac¬ companied with a reverent and discreet reference to their great Author. We need, we say, in our schools, a more direct exposition of the principles of religious truth and duty, than is to be found in the class-books in conimon use. It is not a work on theology that Is wanted; nor is it a work that will teach the formula of a sect; but a comprehensive, logical, and scientific summary of the first truths of natural and revealed religion, and the evidences on which they are predicated. “The Analogy of Religion, Natural AND Revealed, to the Constitution and Course of Na-. TURE,” BY Bishop Butler, comes the nearest to this of any work in the English language. Butler teaches religion neither as a creed nor a dogma: but a philosophy, profound and searching j the science of the human soul; its immortality, its destiny; its subjection to law stern and unescapable; the analogies between the moral and m.aterial laws of the universe—teaching, which the pupil who has had the right kind of home training, reverences., To say that it is a masterly and unanswerable defence of the fun-f damental facts of the Christian religion, is but to repeat the ex¬ pression of very nearly a century of keen-eyed criticism and investigation. Nor has it been overlooked as a text-book for school-room instruction. It has been introduced to some extent into the public and private schools of Great Britain and the United States. Still, valuable as it confessedly is, and profound and clear as its arguments are, the costume, the metaphysical air of the book, scares the timid young student. He is afraid to grapple with thoughts so severely logical, and uttered in a style not only ungainly, but at times obscure. Add to this, it wants those flash¬ ings up of genius and imagination, which delight him so much in INTRODUCTORY PREFACE. IX his favorite Ancient and English classics. He needs help—stimu¬ lus—every facility short of that which w^ould encourage intellec¬ tual laziness. This we have endeavored, however imperfectly, to give him, by a series of analytical questions constructed as nearly as possible in the language of the work itself, so that his attention may be directed, with keen eyes, to the most important doctrines and illustrations in the text. It is true, some of the most accomplished teachers are opposed to this mode of instruction. They sturdily contend for recitations prepared by topics. Still we prefer the Socratic or interrogatory form, and particularly so, when the questions for exercise are added to the work as an appendix, instead of in the margin, or at the foot of the page. It renders the study of the work less toil¬ some ; it generates habits of thinking and inquiry ; it exercises the memory without overburdening it;—in a word, it enables the scholar to come to the class-room, conscious he is prepared for his recitation, whether it be conducted by extemporaneous or printed interrogatories. Nor is this all. There is no other mode, which, when judiciously managed, brings the mind of the instructor so efficiently in contact with the minds of his class. Questions for exercise, however—that is, printed questions^— are for the scholar. The teacher may use them or not, as his own experience and the exigencies of his class may determine. But such questions are, emphatically^ for the scholar. These Questions, which we offer as helps for the study of the Analogy, were originally written out for a class of Young Ladies in one of the oldest and best known Female Seminaries in this city. They were prepared hurriedly, (and without the most dis¬ tant intention of publication,) so that they might be in the hands of the class before the commencement of the study. Imperfect as they are, we trust they will save other teachers and classes the manual toil of writing out and transcribing similar exercises on this work. To both we say, “ Si quid melius novisti impertito ; si non utere his mecum.''^ We do earnestly desire to see Butler’s Analogy a popular school-book. It ought not to be consigned to the dusty shelves of a library. It is questionable whether the present is an age of higher faith in the facts of Christianity, than that which called for the work originally. But be this as it may, its wide circulation as a school-book must tell on the belief and practice of the rising youth. Several attempts have been made to modernize this X INTRODUCTORY PREFACE. work: no such liberties have been taken with this edition. We would not dislodge a single brick from the setting in which the hand of Butler placed it. It would be sacrilege. As an intellectual gymnastic—a work well fitted to give tq the young mind an active and inquisitive turn:—it has no superior. Still, this is not its highest excellence. The study of other works will answer the same purpose equally well. Nor is academic drill and discipline absolutely necessary for this. The mind will grow sharp soon enough by the friction of every-day life, to fit it for the ordinary pursuits of business and the world. It will soon become athletic enough by its wrestlings with time and circum-; stances for this. We have distinguished men in all the walks of science, art, literature, and commerce, who owe little to scholastic training. But the chief value of this masterly work lies in the great thoughts and doctrines which it teaches: in its vivifying and healthful influence in waking up, and making alive the religious sentiment; and arming the young student with logical and manly reasons for his faith in the profound teachings of Christianity; without which, the education of youth is incomplete, no matter how thoroughly and well soever the perceptive and reflectin.g faculties may have been disciplined. New York May, 1847. PREFACE BY SAMUEL HALIFAX, D.D., LATE LORD BISHOP OF GLOUCESTER. [The following prefatory analysis of Butler’s Moral and Religious Systems, and of his method of applying reasonings drawn from Analogy to the Subject of Natural and Revealed Religion, deserves the marked attention of the student.] In some editions, this preface is preceded by a few pages, designed to shield Bishop Butler’s character against the charge of superstition ; placing too much stress on rites and ceremonies in religion: a tendency to substitute penances and forms in the room of Christianity. We have omitted these pages as they are in no way connected with this work, and add nothing to its interest or value. There seems, how¬ ever, to have been no just grounds for such a calumny. Bishop Butler, like many good men of the present age, was deeply affected by the growing indifference of the mass of the people to religious duties and observances ; and in his pri¬ mary charge to the Clergy of his Diocese in 1751, he boldly asserted the usefulness of forms and rites addressed to the senses as aids to devotion and 'piety: a charge, which, at the time, gave very general offence to the Church, and which, taken in connection with some other facts in the history of this good man’s life, formed the stuff, out of which the alle¬ gations, we have referred to, were manufactured several years after his death. It is painful to think so little of the moral and religious workings of the mind of this great man is known. We would gladly know something definitely of his intellectual and spiritual life, during the twenty years of study and pre¬ paration devoted to the composition of The Analogy; from the first rude conception of the work, until it came forth frorn his hands, like the statue from the mallet and chisel of the sculptor finished, ad ungem. Every sentence, it is said, has 2 PREFACE. been fashioned and moulded into the present form by repeated re-writing and condensation. And we can easily believe it, for the words are laid together in many sentences so closely and skilfully, that one more, or one less, would destroy the unity and meaning of the whole. The literary reputation of Bishop Butler, however, is in truth the least of his excellencies. He was more than a good writer : he was a good man ; and what is an addition even to this eulogy, he was a sincere Christian. His whole study was directed to the knowledge and practice of sound morality and true religion ; these he adorned by his life, and has recommended to future ages in his writings ; in which, if my judgment be of any avail, he has done essential service to both, as much, perhaps, as any single person, since the extraordinary gifts of “ the word of wisdom and the word of knowledge”* have been withdrawn. In what follows I propose to give a snort account of the Bishop’s moral and religious systems^ as these are collected from his works. I. His way of treating the subject of morals is to be gathered from the volume of his Sermons, and particularly from the three first, and from the preface to that volume. “ There is,” as our author with singular sagacity has ob¬ served, “ a much more exact correspondence between the natural and moral world, than we are apt to take notice of.”'{' The inward frame of man answers to his outward condition ; the several propensities, passions, and affections, implanted in our hearts by the Author of nature, are in a particular manner adapted to the circumstances of life in which he hath placed us. This general observation, properly pursued, leads to several important conclusions. The original inter¬ nal constitution of man, compared with his external condi¬ tion, enables us to discern what course of action and be¬ havior that constitution leads to^ what is our duty respect¬ ing that condition, and furnishes us besides with the most powerful arguments to the practice of it. What the inward frame and constitution of man is, is a question of fact; to be determined, as other facts are, from experience, from our internal feelings and external senses ♦ 1 Cor. xii. 8. *{• Serm,> vi. BY THE EDITOK. 3 and from the testimony of others. Whether human nature, and the circumstances in which it is placed, might not have been ordered otherwise, is foreign to our inquiry, and none of our concern. Our province is, taking both of these as they are, and viewing the connexion between them, from that connexion to discover, if we can, what course of action is fitted to that nature and those circumstances. From con¬ templating the bodily senses, and the organs or instruments adapted to them, we learn that the eye was given to see with, the ear to hear with. In like manner, from consider¬ ing our inward perceptions and the final causes of them, we collect that the feeling of shame, for instance, was given to prevent the doing of things shameful; compassion, to carry us to relieve others in distress ; anger, to resist sudden vio¬ lence offered to ourselves. If, continuing our inquiries in this way, it should at length appear, that the nature, the whole nature of man leads him to, and is fitted for, that par¬ ticular course of behaviour which we generally distinguish¬ ed by the name of virtue, we are authorized to conclude, that virtue is the law we are born under, that it was so in¬ tended by the Author of our being ; and we are bound by the most intimate of all obligations, a regard to our own high interest and happiness, to conform to it in all situations and events. Human nature is not simple and uniform, but made up of several parts ; and we can have no just idea of it as a system or constitution, unless we take into our view the respects and relation which these parts have to each other. As the body is not one member, but many ; so our inward structure consists of various instincts, appetites, and propensions. Thus far there is no difference between human creatures and brutes. But besides these common passions and affections, there is another principle pecu¬ liar to mankind, that of conscience, moral sense, reflection, call it what jmu please, by wdiich they are enabled to review their whole conduct, to approve of some actions in them¬ selves, and to disapprove of others. That this principle will of course have some influence on our behaviour, at least at times, will hardly be disputed ; but the particular influence wnich it ought to have, the precise degree of powxr in the regulating of our internal frame that is assigned it by Him who placed it there, is a point of the utmost consequence in Itself, and on the determination of which, the very hinge of our Author’s iMoral System turns. If the faculty here spo- 4 PREFACE ken of be, indeed, what it is asserted to be, in nature and kind, superior to every other passion and affection ; if it be given, not merely that it may exert its force occasionally, oi as our present humour or fancy may dispose us, but that k may at all times exercise an uncontrollable authority and government over all the rest; it will then follow, that, in or¬ der to complete the idea of human nature as a system, we must not only take in each particular bias, propension, in¬ stinct, which are seen to belong to it, but we must add, be¬ sides, the principle of conscience, together with the subjec¬ tion that is due to it from all the other appetites and passions ; just as the idea of a civil constitution is formed, not barely from enumerating the several members, and ranks of which it is composed, but from these considered as acting in vari¬ ous degrees of subordination to each other, and all under the direction of the supreme authority, whether that authori¬ ty, be vested in one person or more. The view here given of the internal constitution of man, and of the supremacy of conscience, agreeable to the con¬ ceptions of Bishop Butler, enables us to comprehend the force of that expression, common to him and the ancient moralists, that virtue- consists in following nature. The meaning cannot be, that it consists in acting agreeably to that propensity of our nature which happens to be the stron¬ gest ; or which propels us towards certain objects without any regard to the methods by which they are to be obtained; but the meaning must be, that virtue consists in the due regulation and subjection of all the other appetites and affections to the superior facultj^ of conscience ; from a conformity to which alone our actions are properly natural^ or coriespondent to the nature, to the whole nature, of such an agent as man. From hence too it appears, that the Author of our frame is by no means indifferent to virtue and vice, or has left us at liberty to act at random, as humour or appetite may prompt us ; but that every man has the rule of right within him ; a rule attended in the very notion of it with authority, and such as has the force of a direction and a command from Him who made us what we are, what course of behaviour is suited to our nature, and which he expects that wc. should follow. This moral faculty implies also a presentiment and apprehension, that the judgment which it passes on our ac¬ tions, considered as of good or ill desert, will hereafter be confirmed by the unerring judgment of God ; when virtue and happiness, vipe and misery, whose ideas are now so BY THE EDITOR. 5 closely connected, shall be indissolubly united, and the divine government be found to correspond in the most exact propor¬ tion to the nature he has given us. Lastly, this just preroga¬ tive or supremacy of conscience it is, which Mr Pope has described in his Universal Prayer^ though perhaps, he may have expressed it rather too strongly where he says, ‘ What conscience dictates to be done Or warns me not to do, This teach me more than hell to shun, That, more than heaveri pursue.’ The reader will observe, that this way of treating the subject of morals, by an appeal to facts^ does not at all inter¬ fere with that other wa}’’, adopted by Dr Samuel Clarke and others, which begins y/ith inquiririg into the relations and fitness of things^ but rather illustrates and confirms it. That there are essential differences in the qualities of human ac¬ tions, established by nature, and that this natural difference of things, prior, to and independent of all luill, creates a natural fitness in the agent to act agreeably to it, seems as little to be denied, as that there is the moral difference before explain^ ed, from which we approve and feel a pleasure in what is right, and conceive a distaste to what is wrong. Still, how¬ ever, when we are endeavoring to establish either this mo¬ ral or that natural difference, it ought never to be forgotten, or rather it will require to be distinctly shown, that both of these, when traced up to their source, suppose an intelligent Author of nature, and moral ruler of the world; who ori¬ ginally appointed these differences, and by such an appoint¬ ment has signified his will that we should conform to them, as the only effectual method of securing our happiness on the whole under his government.* And of this consideration oui prelate himself was not unmindful; as may be collected from many expressions in different parts of his writings, and particularly from the following passages in his Xlth Sermion. ‘ It may be allowed, without any prejudice to the cause of virtue and religion, that our ideas of happiness and misery are, of all our ideas, the nearest and most important to us ; that they will, nay, if you please, that they ought to prevail over those of order, and beauty, and harmony, and proportion, if there should ever be, as it is impossible there ever should be, any inconsistence bctweep them.’ And * See note E, at the end of this Preface. 6 PREFACE again, ‘ Though virtue or moral rectitude does indeed, con¬ sist in affection to and pursuit of what is right and good, as such ; yet, when we sit down in a cool hour, we can neither justify to ou/selves this or any other pursuit, till we are con¬ vinced that it will be for our happiness, or at least not con¬ trary to it.’* * * § Besides the general system of morality opened above, our Author, in his volume of Sermons, has stated with accuracy the difference between self love and benevolence j in oppo¬ sition to those who, on the one hand, make the whole of virtue to consist in benevolence,'j' and to those who, on the other, assert that every particular affection and action is're- solvable into self-love. In combating these opinions, he has shown, I think, unanswerably, that there are the same kind of indications m human nature, that we were made to pro¬ mote the happiness of others, as that we* were made to pro¬ mote our own ; that it is no just objection to this, that we have dispositions to do evil to others as well as good; for we have also dispositions to do evil as well as good to ourselves^ to our own most important interests even in this life, for the sake of gratifying a present passion ; that the thing to be lamented is, not that men have too great a regard to their own real good, but that they have not enough ; that bene¬ volence is not more at variance with, or unfriendly to, self love, than any other particular affection is ; and that by con¬ sulting the happiness of others a man is so far from lessen¬ ing his own, that the very endeavour to . do so though he should fail in the accomplishment, is a source of the high¬ est satisfaction and peace of mind.J He has also, in pas¬ sing, animadverted on the philosopher of Malmsbury, who, in his book ‘ Of Human Nature,’ has advanced, as discove¬ ries in moral science, that benevolence is only the love of power, and compassion the fear of future calamity to our¬ selves. And this our Author has done, not so much v/ith the design of exposing the false reasoning of Mr Hobbes, but because on so perverse an account of human nature he has raised a system, subversive of all justice and honesty.§ II. The religious system of Bishop Butler is chiefly to be collected from the treatise, entitled, ‘ The Analogy * Serm. xi. t See the 2d Dissertation ‘ On the Nature of Virtue.’ t See Serm. i. and xi. and the Preface to the Volume of Sermon*. § See the notes to Serm. i. and v. BY THE EDITOR. ^ Religion, Natural and Revealed, to the Constitution and Course of nature.’ ‘ All things are double one against another, and God hath made nothing imperfect.’* On this single observation of the Son of Sirach, the whole fabric of our prelate’s defence of religion, in his Analogy, is raised. Instead of indulging in idle speculations, how the world might possibly have been better than it is ; or, forgetful of the dhference between hypothesis and fact, attempting to explain the divine econo¬ my with respect to intelligent creatures, from preconceived notions of his own ; he first inquires what the constitution of nature, as made known to us in the way of experiment, actually is ; and from this, now seen and acknowledged, he endeavours to form a judgment of that larger constitution, which religion discovers to us. If the dispensation of Pro¬ vidence we are now under, considered as inhabitants of this world, and having a temporal interest to secure in it, be found, on examination, to be analogous to, and of a piece with that further dispensation, which relates to us as design¬ ed for another world, in which we have an eternal interest, depending on our behaviour here ; if both may be traced up to the same general laws, and appear to be carried on ac¬ cording to the same plan of administration ; the fair pre¬ sumption is, that both proceed from one and the same Au¬ thor. And if the principal parts objected to in this latter dispensation be similar to, and of the same kijid w'ith what we certainly experience under the former ; the objections, being clearly inconclusive in one case, because contradicted by plain fact, must, in all reason, be allowed to be inconclu¬ sive also in the other. This way of arguing from what is acknowledged to what is disputed, from things known to other things that resemble them, from that part of the divine establishment Vv^hich is exposed to our view to that more important one which lies beyond it, is on all hands confessed to be just. By this me¬ thod Sir Isaac Newton has unfolded the system of nature ; Dy the same method Bishop Butler has explained the sys¬ tem of grace ; and thus, to use the words of a writer, whom I quote with pleasure, ‘ has formed and concluded a happy alliance between faith and philosophy.’! And although the argument from analogy be allowed to be imperfect, and by no means sufficient to solve all difficul- * Eccles. xlii. 24 T Mr Mainvs^ring’s Dissertation, prefixed to his Volume of Sermons, 8 PREFACE ties respecting the government of God, and the designs of his providence with regard to mankind ; (a degree of knowl¬ edge, which we are not furnished with faculties for attain¬ ing, at least in the present state ;) yet surely it is of impor¬ tance to learn from it, that the natural and moral world are intimately connected, and parts of one stupendous whole, or system; and that the chief objections which are brought agaii:^t religion, may be urged with equal force against the constitution and course of nature, where they are certainly false in fact. And this information we may derive from the work before us ; the proper design of which, it may be of use to observe, is not to prove the truth of religion, either natural or revealed, but to confirm that proof.already known, by considerations from aiialogy. After this account of the method of reasoning employed by our Author, let us now advert to his manner of applying it, first, to the subject of Natural Religion, and, secondly, to that of Revealed. 1. The foundation of all our hopes and fears is a future life ; and with this the treatise begins. Neither the reason' of the thing, nor the analogy of nature, according to Bishop Butler, give ground for imagining, that the unknown event, death, will he our destruction. The states in which we have formerly existed, in the womb and in infancy, are not more different from each other than from that of mature age in which we now exist ■ therefore, that we shall continue to exist hereafter, in a state as different from the present as the present is from those through which we have passed alrea¬ dy, is a presuniption favored by the analogy of nature. All that we know from reason concerning death, is the effects it has upon animal bodies ; and the frequent instances among men, of the intellectual powers continuing in high health and vigour, at the very time when a mortal disease is on the point of putting an end to all the powers of sensation, induce us to hope that it may have no effect at all on the human soul, not even so much as to suspend the exercise of its faculties ; though if it have, the suspension of a power by no means im¬ plies its extinction, as sleep or a swoon may convince us.* The probability of a future state once granted, an impor¬ tant question arises, How best to secure our interest in that state ? We find from what passes daily before us, that the constitution of nature admits of misery as well as happiness ; * Part i. chap. 1. 9 BY THE EDITOR. that both of these are the consequences of our qwn actions, and these consequences we are enabled to foresee. There¬ fore, that our happiness or misery in a future world may de¬ pend on our own actions also, and that rewards or punish¬ ments hereafter may follow our good or ill behaviour here, is but an appointment of the same sort with what we expe¬ rience under the divine government, according to the regular course of nature.* This supposition is confirmed from another circumstance, that the natural government of God, under which we now live, is also moral; in which rewards and punishments are the consequences of actions, considered as virtuous and vicious. Not that every man is rewarded or punished here in exact proportion to his desert; for the essential tendencies of virtue ancf vice, to produce happiness and the contrary, are often hindered from taking effect from accidental causes. However, there are plainly the rudiments and beginnings of a righteous administration to be discerned in the constitution of nature ; from whence we are led to expect, that these ac¬ cidental hindrances will one day be removed, and the rule of distributive justice obtain completely in a more perfect state.y The moral government of God, thus established, implies in the notion of it some sort of trial, or a moral possibility of act¬ ing wrong as well as right, in those who are the subjects of it. xlnd the doctrine of religion, that the present life is in fact a state of probation for a future one, is rendered credible from its being analogous throughout to the general conduct of Providence towards us with respect to this world ; in which prudence is necessary to secure our temporal interest, just as ^ye a?:o taught that virtue is necessary to secure our eternal interest: and both are trusted to ourselves. J But the present life is not merely a state of probation, im¬ plying in it difficulties and danger, it is also a state of disci¬ pline and improvement: and that, both in our temporal and religious capacity. Thus, childhood is a state of discipline for youth; youth for manhood; and that for old age. Strength of body, and maturity of understanding, are acquired by de¬ grees : and neither of them without continual exercise and attention on our part, not only ip the beginning of life, but through the whole course of it. So, again, with respect to QUr religious concerns, the present world is fitted to be, and * Chap. 2 t Chap. 3. | Part i. chap. 4, 10 PREFACE to good men is an event, a state of discipline and improve* ment for a future one. The several passions and propensions implanted in our hearts, incline us, in a multitude of instan* ces, to forbidden pleasures ; this inward infirmity is increa¬ sed by various snares and temptations, perpetually occurring from without; hence arises the necessity of recollection and self-government, of withstanding the calls of appetite, and forming our minds to habits of piety and virtue ; habits of which we are capable, and which, to creatures in a state of moral imperfection, and fallen from their original integrity, must be of the greatest use, as an additional security, over and above the principle of conscience, from the dangers to which we are exposed,* Nor is the credibility here given, by the analogy of nature, to the general doctrine of religion, destroyed or weakened by any notions concerning necessity. Of itself it is a mere word, the sign of an abstract idea ; and as much requires an agent, that is, a necessary agent in order to effect any thing, as freedom requires a free agent. A dmitting it to be specu¬ latively true, if considered as influencing practice, it is the same as false : for it is matter of experience, that, with re¬ gard to our present interest, and as inhabitants of this world, we are treated as if we were free; and therefore the analo¬ gy of nature leads us to conclude, that, with regard to oui future interest, and as designed for another world, we shall be treated as free also. Nor does the opinion of necessity, supposing it possible, at all affect either the general proof of religion, or its external evidence.']' Still objections may be made against the wisdom and good¬ ness of the divine government, to which analogy, which can only show the truth or credibility of facts, affords no answer. . Yet even here analogy is of use, if it suggest that the di¬ vine government is a scheme or system and not a number of unconnected acts, and that this system is also above oui comprehension. Now, the government of the natural world appears to be a system of this kind ; with parts, related to each other, and together composing a whole : in which sys?- tem, ends are brought about by the use of means, many of which means, before experience, would have been suspected to have had a quite contrary tendency ; which is carried on by general laws, similar causes uniformly producing similar effects; the utihty of which general laws, and the inconve- ^ Chap. 6, t Fart h Chap. 6. BY THE EDITOB. n niences which would probably arise from the occasional or even secret suspension of them, we are in some sort enabled to discern but of the whole we are incompetent judges, because of the small part which comes within our view. Reasoning then from what we know, it is highly credible, that the government of the moral world is a system also car* ried on by general laws, and in which ends are accomplish¬ ed by the intervention of means ; and that both constitu tions, the natural and the moral, are so connected, as to form together but one scheme. But of this scheme, as that of the natural world taken alone, we are not qualified to judge on account of the mutual respect of the several parts to each other and to the whole, and our own incapacity to survey the whole, or, with accuracy, any single part. All objec¬ tions, therefore, to the wisdom and goodness of the divine government may be founded merely on our ignorance ; j* and to such objections our ignorance is the proper, and a satis¬ factory answer. J 2. The chief difficulties concerning Natural Religion be¬ ing.now removed, our Author proceeds, in the next place, to that which is revealed; and as an introduction to an inquiry into the Credibility of Christianity, begins with the conside¬ ration of its Importance. The importance of Christianity appears in two respects. First, In its being a republication of natural Religion, in its native simplicity, with authority, and with circumstances of advantage ; ascertaining in many instances of moment, what before was only probable, and particularly confirming the doctrine of a future state of rewards and punishments.§ Secondly, As revealing a new dispensation of Providence, originating from the pure love and mercy of God, and con¬ ducted by the mediation of his Son, and the guidance of his Spirit, for the recovery and salvation of mankind, re presented in a state of apostacy and ruin. This account of Christianity being admitted to be just, and the distinct offi¬ ces of these three divine persons being once discovered to us, we are as much obliged, in point of duty, to acknowledge the relations we stand in to the Son and Holy Ghost, as our Mediator and Sanctifier, as we are obliged in point of duty ♦ See a Treatise on Divine Benevolence, by Dr Thomas Balguy, Part ii. t See Note P, at the end of this Preface. t Part i. Chap. 7. § See note at the end of this Prefer 12 PREFACE to acknowledge the relation we stand in to God the Fa¬ ther ; although the two former of these relations be learnt from revelation only, and in the last we are instructed by the light of nature ; the obligation in either case, arising from the offices themselves, and pot at all depending on the man¬ ner in which they are made known to us."^ The presumptions against revelation in general are, that it is not discoverable by reason, that it is unlike to what is so discovered, and that it was introduced and supported by miracles. But in a scheme so large as that of the universe, unbounded in extent and everlasting in duration, there must of necessity be numberless circumstances which are beyond the reach of our faculties to discern, and which can only be known by divine illumination. And both in the natural and moral government of the world, under which we live, we find many things unlike one to another, and therefore ought not to wonder if the same unlikeness obtain between things visible and invisible ; although it be far from true, that re¬ vealed religion is entirely unlike the constitution of nature, as analogy may teach us. Nor is there any thing incredible in revelation, considered as miraculous ; whether miracles be supposed to have been performed at the beginning of the world, or after a course of nature has been established. Not at the heginning of the xoorld; for then there was either no course of nature at all, or a power must have been exerted totally different from what that course is at present. All men and animals cannot have been born, as they are now ; but a pair of each sort must have been produced at first, in a way altogether unlike to that ip which they have been since produced; unless we affirm, that men and animals have existed froin eternity in an endless succession. One miracle, therefore, at least, there must have been at the be¬ ginning of the world, or at the time of man’s creation. Not after the settlement of a course of nature, on account of mira¬ cles being contrary to that course, or, in other words, contra¬ ry to experience; fpr, in order to know whether miracles, worked in attestation of a divine religion, be contrary to ex perience or not, we ought to be acquainted with other cases similar or parallel to those in which miracles are alleged to have been wrought. But where shall we find such similar or parallel cases % The world which we inhabit affords » none. We know of no extraordinary revelations from God ♦ Part ii. Chapter 5 BY tllB £1)IT0R, 13 td man, but those recorded in the Old and New Testament; all of which were established by miracles. It cannot there¬ fore be said, that miracles are incredible, because contrary to experience, when all the experience we have is iii favor of miracles, and on the side of religion,* Besides, in reason¬ ing concerning miracles, they ought not to be compared with common natural events, but with uncommon appearances, such as cdmets, magnetism, electricity ; which, to one ac¬ quainted only with the usual phenomena of nature, and the common powers of matter; must before proof of their actual existence, be thought incredible.p The presumptions against Beveiation in general being despatched, objections against the Christian Revelation in particular, against the scheme of it, as distinguished from objections against its evidence, are considered next. Now, supposing a revelation to be really given, it is highly proba¬ ble beforehand, that it must contain many things appearing to us liable to objections. The acknowledged dispensation of nature is very different from what we should have expect¬ ed ; reasoning then from analogy, the revealed dispensation, it is credible, would be also different. Nor are we in any sort judges at what time, or in what degree, or manner it is fit or expedient for God to instruct us, in things confessedly of the greatest use, either by natural reason, or by superna¬ tural information. Thus; arguing on speculation only, and without experience, it would seem very unlikely that so im¬ portant a remedy as that provided by Christianity, for the re¬ covery of mankind from a state of ruin, should have been for so many ages withheld ; and, when at last vouchsafed, should be imparted to so few ; and, after it has been impart* ed, should be attended with obscurity and dOubt. And just so we might have argued, before experience, concerning the remedies provided in nature for bodily diseases, to which by nature \ve are exposed : for many of these were unknown to mankind for a number of ages ; are known but to few now: some important ones probably not discovered yet; and those which are, neither certain in their application, nor uni- Yersal in their use.' And the same mode of reasoning that would lead us to expect they should have been so, would lead us to expect that the necessity of them should have been superseded, by there being no diseases ; as the neces- aity of the Christian scheme, it may be thought, might also ♦ See note H, at the end of this Preface. T Chap. 8. PREFACE U have been superseded, by preventing the fall of man, so that he should not have stood in need of a Redeemer at all.* As to the objections against the wisdom and goodness of Christianity, the same answer may be applied to them as was to the like objections against the constitution of nature. For here also, Christianity is a scheme or economy, compo¬ sed of various parts, forming a whole, in which scheme means are used for the accomplishing of ends ; and which is con¬ ducted by general laws, of all of which we know as little as we do of the constitution of nature.. And the seeming want of wisdom or goodness in this system is to be ascribed to the same cause, as the like appearances of defects in the natural system ; our inability to discern the whole scheme, and our ignorance of the relation of those parts which are discernible to others beyond our view. The objections against Christianity, as a matter of fact, and against the wisdom and goodness of it, having been ob¬ viated together, the chief of them are now to be considered distinctly. One of these, which is levelled against the en¬ tire system itself, is of this sort: The restoration of mankind, represented in Scripture as the great design of the gospel, is described as requiring a long series of means, and persons, and dispensations, before it can be brought to its completion; whereas the whole ought to have been effected at once. Now every thing we see in the course of nature, shows the folly of this objection. For in the natural course of Provi¬ dence, ends are brought about by means, not operating im¬ mediately and at once, but deliberately and in a way of pro¬ gression ; one thing being subservient to another, this to somewhat further. The change of seasons, the ripening of fruits, the growth of vegetable and animal bodies, are in¬ stances of this. And therefore, that the same progres¬ sive method should be followed in the dispensation of Chris¬ tianity, as is observed in the common dispensation of Provi¬ dence, is a reasonable expectation justified by the analogy of nature.f Another circumstance, objected to in the Christian scheme, is the appointment of a Mediator, and the saving of the world through him. But the visible government of God be¬ ing actually administered in this way, or by the mediation and instrumentality of others, there can be no general pre¬ sumption against an appointment of this kind, against tlris ♦ Chap. 3. t Chap. 4 6Y THE EDITOR. l5 invisible government being exercised in the same manner. We have seen already, that with regard to ourselves this visible government is earned on by rewards and punish¬ ments ; for happiness and misery are the consequences of our own actions, considered as virtuous and vicious ; and these consequences we are enabled to foresee,. It might have been imagined, before consulting experience, that after we had rendered ourselves liable to misery by our own ill con¬ duct, sorrow for what was past, and behaving well for the future, would, alone, and of themselves, have exempted us from deserved punishment, and restored us to the divine fa* vor. But the fact is otherwise ; and real reformation is of¬ ten found to be of no avail, so as to secure the criminal from poverty, sickness, infamy, and death,' the never failing at¬ tendants on vice and extravagance, exceeding a certain de¬ gree. By the course of nature then it appears, God does not always pardon a sinner on his repentarice. Yet there is provision made, even in nature, that the miseries which men bring on themselves, by unlawful indulgences, may in many cases be mitigated, and in some removed ; partly by extra¬ ordinary exertions of the offender himself, but more espe¬ cially and frequently by the intervention of others, who vo¬ luntarily, and from motives of compassion, submit to labor and sorrow, such as produce long and lasting inconveniences to themselves, as the means of rescuing another from the wretched effects of former imprudences. Vicarious punish¬ ment, therefore, or one person’s sufferings contributing to the relief of another, is a providential disposition in the econo¬ my of nature.* And it ought not to be matter of surprise, if by a method analogous to this we be redeemed from sin and misery, in the economy of grace. That mankind at present are in a state of degradation, different from that in which they were originally created, is the very ground of the Christian revelation, as contained in the Scriptures. Whether we acquiesce in the account, that our being placed in such a state is owing to the crime of our first parents, or choose to ascribe it to any other cause, it makes no differ¬ ence as to our condition : the vice and unhappiness of the world are still there, notwithstanding all our suppositions ; nor is it Christianity that hath put us into this state. Wo learn also from the same Scriptures, what experience and the use of expiatory sacrifices from the most early times • See note I, at the end of this Prefece. 16 PREFACE might have taught us, that repentance alone is not sufficient to prevent the fatal consequences of past transgressions 1 But that still there is room for mefcy, and that repentance shall he available, though not of itsfelf, yet through the me¬ diation of a divine person, the Messiah ; who, from the snb- limest principles of compassion, when we were dead in tres¬ passes and sins,"^ suffered and died, the innocent for the guil¬ ty, the just for the unjust,y that we might have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness bl* sins.J Iti what tvay the death of Christ was of that efficacy it is said to be, in procuring the reconciliation of sinners, the Scriptures have not explained. It is enough that the doctrine is re¬ vealed ; that it is not contrary to any truth which reason and experience teach us ; and that it accords in perfect har¬ mony with the usual method of the divine conduct in the government of the world.§ Again it hath been said, that if the Christian revelation were true, it must have been universal, and could not have been left upon doubtful evidence. But God, in his natural providence, dispenses his gifts in great variety, not only among creatures of the same species, but to the same indi¬ viduals also at different times. Had the Christian revela¬ tion been universal at first, yet, from the diversity of men’s abilities, both of mind and body, their various means of im¬ provement, and other external advantages, some persons must soon have been in a situation, with respect to religious knowledge, much superior to that of others, as much per¬ haps as they are at present. And all men will be equita¬ bly dealt with at last; and to whom little is given, of him little will be required. Then, as to the evidence of religion being left doubtful, difficulties of this sort, like difficulties in practice, afford scope and opportunity for a virtuous exercise - of the understahding, and dispose the mind to acquiesce and rest satisfied with any evidence that is real. In the daily commerce of life, men are obliged to act Upon great uncer¬ tainties, with regard to success in their temporal pursuits ; and the case with regard to religion is parallel. However, though religion be not intuitively true; the proofs of it which we have are amply sufficient in reasoh to induce us to em¬ brace it; and dissatisfaction with those proofs may possibly be men’s own fault. || Nothing remains but to attend to the positive evidence ♦ Eph. U. 1. S Coap. r 1 Pet. iii. 18. ii Chap. 6. t ColoB- i, 14. BY THE EDITOR. 17 there is for the truth of Christianitj, Now, besides its di¬ rect and fundamental proofs, which are miracles and prophe¬ cies ; there are milny collateral circumstances, which may be united into one view, and altogether may be considered cts ma¬ king up cne argument. In this way of treating the subject, the revelation, whether real or otherwise, may be supposed to be wholly historical; the general design of which appears to be, to give an account of the condition of religion, and its professors, with a concise narration of the political state of things, as far as religion is affected by it, during a great length of time, near six thousand years of which are already past. More particularly, it comprehends an account of God’s entering into covenant with one nation, the Jews, that he would be their God, and that they should be his people ; of his often interposing in their affairs ; giving them the pro¬ mise; and afterwards the possession, of a flourishing coun¬ try; assuring them of the greatest national prosperity in case of their obedience, and threatening the severest nation¬ al punishment in case they forsook him, and joined in the idolatry of their pagan neighbors. It contains also a pre¬ diction of a particular person to appear in the fulness of time, in whom all the promises of God to the Jews were to be ful¬ filled. And it relates, that, at the time expected, a per¬ son did actually appear, assuming to be the Saviour fore told ; that he worked various miracles among them, in con¬ firmation of his divine authority ; and as was foretold also, was rejected and put to death by the very people who had long desired and waited for his coming: But that his reli¬ gion, in spite of all opposition, was established in the world by his disciples, invested with supernatural powers for that purpose ; of the fate and fortunes of which religion there is a prophetical description, carried down to the end of time. Let any one now, after reading the above history, and not knowing whether the whole were not a fiction, be supposed to ask. Whether all that is here related be true ? and instead of a direct answer, let him be informed of the several ac¬ knowledged facts, which arc found to correspond to it in real life; and then, let him compare the history and facts toge¬ ther, and observe the astonishing coincidence of both : Such a joint review must appear to him of very great weight, and to amount to evidence somewhat more than human. And unless the whole series, and every particular circumstance 18 PREFACE contained in it, can be thought to have arisen from accident, the truth of Christianity is proved.* The view here given of the moral and religious systems of Bishop Butler, it will immediately be perceived, is chiefly intended for younger students, especially for students in di¬ vinity ; to whom it is hoped it may be of use, so as to en¬ courage them to peruse, with proper diligence, the original works of the Author himself. For it may be necessary to observe, that neither of the volumes of this excellent pre¬ late are addressed to those who read for amusement, or curio¬ sity, or to get rid of time. All subjects are not to be com¬ prehended with the same ease; and morality and religion, when treated as sciences, each accompanied with difficulties of its own, can neither of them be understood as they ought, without a very peculiar attention. But morality and reli¬ gion are not merely to be studied as sciences, or as being speculatively true ; they are to be regarded in another and higher light, as the rule of life and manners, as containing authoritative directions by which to regulate our faith and practice. And in this view, the in Anite importance of them considered, it can never be an indifferent matter whether they be received or rejected. For both claim to be the voice of God; and whether they be so or not, cannot be know, till their claims be impartially examined. If they indeed come from him, we are bound to conform to them at our peril: nor is it left to our choice, whether we will submit to the obligations they impose upon us or not; for submit to them we must, in such a sense, as to incur the punishments denounced by both against wilful disobedience to their in¬ junctions. * Chap. 7. To the Analogy are subjoined two Dissertations, both on ginally inserted in the body of the work. One on Personal Identity^ in which are contained some strictures on Mr Locke, who asserts that con¬ sciousness makes or constitutes personal identity j whereas, as our author observes, consciousness makes only personality, or is necessary to the idea of a person, i. e. a thinking, intelligent being, but presupposes, and therefore cannot constitute, personal identity; just as knowledge presupposes truth, but does not constitute it. Consciousness of past actions does indeed show us the identity of ourselves, or gives us a certain assurance that we are the same persons or livTng agents now, which we were at the time to which our remembrance can look back; but still we should be the same persons as we were, though this consciousness of what is past were wanting, though all that had b^n done by us formerly were forgotten; unless it be true, that no person has existed a single moment beyond what he can remember. The other dissertation is On the Nature of Virtue^ which properly be¬ longs to the moral system of our Author already explained THE LIFE OP DR BUTLER. -0 Dr Joseph Butler, a prelate of the most distinguished character and abilities, was born at Wantage, in Berk¬ shire, in the year 1692. His father Mr. Thomas Butler, who was a substantisil and reputable shopkeeper in that town, observing in his son Joseph* an excellent genius and in¬ clination for learning, determined to educate him for the min¬ istry, among the Protestant dissenters oP the presbyterian denomination. For this purpose, after he had gone through a proper course of grammatical literature, at the free gram¬ mar school of his native place, under the care of the Rev. Mr Philip Barton, a clergyman of the Church of England, he was sent to a dissenting academy, then kept at Glouces¬ ter, but which was soon afterwards removed to Tewksbury. The principal tutor of this academy was Mr Jones, a man of uncommon abilities and knowledge, who had the honor of training up several scholars, who became of great emi¬ nence, both in the established church and among the dissen¬ ters. At Tukesbury, Mr Butler made an extraordinary progress in the study of divinity ; of which he gave a re¬ markable proof, in the letters addressed by him while he resided at Tukesbury, to Dr Samuel Clarke, laying before him the doubts that had arisen in his mind, concerning the conclusiveness of some arguments in the Doctor’s demon¬ stration of the being and attributes of God. The first of these letters was dated the 4th November, 1713 ; and the sagacity and depth of thought displayed in it, immediately excited Dr Clark’s particular notice. This condescension * He was the youngest of eight cliildreu. 20 THE LIFE OF encouraged Mr Butler to address the Doctor again upon the same subject, which likewise was answered by him; and the corresnondence being carried on in three other let- ters, the whole was annexed to the celebrated treatise before mentioned, and the collection has been retained in all the subsequent editions of that work. The management of this correspondence was intrusted by Mr Butler to his friend and fellow pupil, Mr Seeker, who, in order to conceal the affair, undertook to convey the letters to. the post-office at Gloucester, and to bring back Dr Clark’s answers. When Mr Butler’s name was discovered to the doctor, the candor, modesty^ and good sense, with which he had written, imme¬ diately procured him the friendship of that eminent and ex¬ cellent man. Our young student was not, however, during his continuance at Tukesbury, solely employed in metaphy’ sical speculations and inquiries. Another subject of his serious consideration was, the propriety of his becoming a dissenting minister. Accordingly, he entered into an ex¬ amination of the principles of non-conformity ; the result of which was, sach a dissatisfaction with them, as determined him to conform to the established church. ' This intention was, at first, disagreeable to his father, who endeavored to divert him from his purpose ; and, with that view, called in the assistance of some eminent presbyterian divines; but finding his son’s resolution to be fixed, he at length suffered him to be removed to Oxford, where he was admitted a com¬ moner of Oriel college, on the 17th March, 1714. And what time he took orders doth not appear, nor who the bishop was by whom he was ordained; but it is certain that he entered into the church soon after his admission at Oxford, if it be true, as is asserted, that he sometimes assisted Mr Edward Talbot in the divine service, at his living of Hen- dred, near Wantage With this gentleman, who was the second son of Dr William Talbot, successively bishop of Oxford, Salisbury, and Durham, Mr Butler formed an inti¬ mate friendship at Oriel college ; which friendship laid the foundation of all his subsequent preferments, and procured for him a very honorable station, when he was only twenty- six years of age. For it was in 1718 that, at the recom¬ mendation of Mr Talbot, in conjunction with that of Dr Clarke, he was appointed by Sir Joseph Jekyll to be preach¬ er at the Rolls. This was three years before he had taken any degree at the University, where he did not go outbache- for of law till the 10th Juno, 1721, which, however, was as DR BDILER. 21 Boon as that degree could suitably be conferred on hlir. Mr Butler continued at the Rolls till 1726 ; in the beginning of which year he published, in one volume octavo, “ Fifteen Sermons preached at that Chapel.” IiT the meanwhile, by the patronage of Dr Talbot, bishop of Durham, to whose notice he had been recommended (together with Mr Ben¬ son and Mr Seeker) by Mr Edward Talbot, on his death bed, our author had been presented first to the rectory of Haiighton, near Darlington, and afterwards to that of Stan¬ hope, in the same diocese. The benefice of Haughton, was given to him in 1722, and that of Stanhope in 1725. At Haughton there was a necessity for rebuilding a great part of the parsonage house, and Mr Butler had neither money nor talents for that work. Mr Seeker, therefore, who had always the interest of his friends at heart, and ac¬ quired a very considerable influence with Bishop Talbot, persuaded that prelate to give Mr Butler, in exchange for Haughton, the rectory of Stanhope, which was not only free from any such incumbrance, but was likewise of much superior value, being indeed one of the richest parsonages in England. Whi/lst our author continued preacher at the Rolls-Chapel, he divided his time between his duty in town and country ; but when he quiti ed the Rolls, he resided, during seven years, wholly at Stanhope, in the conscious discharge of every obligation appertaining to a good parish priest. This retirement, however, was too solitary for his disposition, which had in it a natural cast of gloominess. And though his recluse hours were by no means lost, either to private improvement or public utility, yet he felt at times, very painfully, the want of that select society of friends to which he had been accustomed, and which could inspire hini with the greatest cheerfulness. Mr Seeker, therefore, who knew this, was extremely anxious to draw him out into a more active and conspicuous scene, and omitted no opportu nity of expressing this desire to such as he thought capable of promoting it. Having himself been appointed king's chaplain, in 1732, he took occasion, in a conversation which he had the honor of holding with Glueen Caroline, to men¬ tion to her his friend Mr Butler. The queen said she thought he had been dead. Mr Seeker assured her he was uot. Yet her Majesty afterwards asked Archbishop Black¬ burn if he was not dead ; his answer was, “ No, madam ; but he is buried.” Mr Seeker continuing his purpose of endeavouring to bring his friend out of his retirement, found 22 THE LIFE OF means, upon Mr Charles Talbot's being made lord chansel- lor, to have Mr Butler recommended to him for his chaplain. His lordship accepted, and sent for him ; and this promotion calling him to town, he took Oxford in his way, and was ad¬ mitted there to the degree of doctor of law, on the 8th December, 1733. The lord chancellor, who gave him also a prebend in the church of Rochester, had consented that he should reside at his parish of Stanhope one half of the year. Dr Butler being thus brought back into the world, his merit and his talents soon introduced him to particular no¬ tice, and paved the way for his rising to those high dignities which he afterwards enjoyed. In 1736 he was appointed clerk of the closet to queen Caroline ; and in the same year, he presented to her majesty a copy of his excellent treatise, entitled, “ The Analogy of Rehgion, Natural and Revealed, to the Constitution and Course of Nature.” His attendance upon his royal mistress, by her especial command, was from seven to nine in the evening every day ; and though this particular relation to that excellent and learned queen was soon determined by her death in 1737, yet he had been so effectually recommended b}^ her, as well as by the late Lord Chancellor Talbot, to his Majesty’s favor, that in the next year he was raised to the highest order of the church, by a nomination to the bishopric of Bristol; to which see he was consecrated on the Third December, 1738. King George II. not being satisfied with this proof of his regard to Dr Butler, promoted him, in 1740, to the deanery of St Paul’s, London ; into which he was installed on the 24th May in that year. Finding the demands of this dignity to be in¬ compatible with his parish duty at Stanhope, he immediate¬ ly resigned that rich benefice. Besides our prelate’s unro- mitted attention to his pecuhar obligations, he was called upon to preach several discourses on public occasions, which were afterwards separately prmted, and have since been an¬ nexed to the latter editions of the sermons at the Rolls- Chapel. In 1746, upon the death of Dr Egerton, bishop of Hereford, Dr Butler was made clerk of the closet to the King ; and on the 16th October, 1750, he received another distinguished mark of his Majesty’s favor, by being transla¬ ted to the see of Durham. This was on the 16th of Octo¬ ber in that year, upon the decease of Dr Edward Chandler. Our prelate being thus appointed to preside over a diocese with which he had long been connected, delivered his first, DR BUTLER. 25 and indeed his last charge to his clergy, at his primary visi¬ tation in 1751. The principal object of it was, ‘ External Religion.’ The bishop having observed, with deep concern, the great and growing neglect of serious piety in the king¬ dom, insisted strongly on the usefulness of outward forms and institutions, in fixing and preserving a sense of devotion and duty in the minds of men. In doing this, he was thought by several persons to speak too favourably of Pa¬ gan and Popish ceremonies, and to countenance in a certain degree, the cause of superstition. Under that apprehension an able and spirited writer, who was understood to be a clergyman of the Church of England, published in 1752, a pamphlet, entitled, ‘ A Serious Inquiry into the Use and Importance of External Religion ; occasioned by some pas¬ sages in the Right Rev. the Lord Bishop of Durham’s Charge to the Clergy of that Diocese ;—Humbly addressed to his Lordship.’ Many persons, however, and we believe the greater part of the Clergy of the diocese, did not think our prelate’s Charge so exceptionable as it appeared to this au¬ thor. The Charge, being printed at Durham, and having never been annexed to any of Dr Butler’s other works, is now become extremely scarce ; and it is observable, that it is the only one of his publications which ever produced him a direct literary antagonist.^' By this promotion, our worthy bishop was furnished with ample means of exerting the virtue of charity; a virtue which eminentl}’’ abounded in him, and the exercise oi which was his highest delight. But this gratification he did not long enjoy. He had been but a short time seated in his new bishopric, when his health began visibly to decline ; and having been complimented, during his indisposition, up¬ on account of his great resignation to the divine will, he is said to have expressed some regret that he should be taken from the present world so soon after he had been rendered capable of becoming much more useful in it. In his last illness he was carried to Bristol, to try the waters of that place ; but these proving inefiectual, he removed to Bath, where, being past recovery, he died on the 16th of June, 1752. His corpse was conveyed to Bristol, and interred in the cathedral there, where a monument, with an inscription, is erected to his memory. On the greatness of Bishop Butler’s character we need * This Charge, with all the rest of Bishop Butler’s writings, is included in the present edition of his works. 24 THE LIFE OF DR. BUTLER. not enlarge ; for his profound knowledge, and the prodigious strength of his mind, are amply displayed in his incompara¬ ble writing. His piety was of the most serious and fervent, and, perhaps somewhat of the ascetic kind. His benevo¬ lence was warm, generous, and diffusive. Whilst he was bishop of Bristol he expended, in repairing and improving the episcopal palace, four thousand pounds, which is said to have been more than the whole revenues of bishopric amounted to, during his continuance in that see. Besides his private benefactions, he was a contributor to the infirmary at Bristol, and a subscriber to three of the hospitals at London. He was likewise o, principal promoter, though not the first founder of the infirmarv at Newcastle,in Northu.mberland. In supporting the hospitality and dignity^ of the rich and pow¬ erful diocese of Durham, he was desirous of imitating the spirit of his patron. Bishop Talbot. In this spirit he set apart three days every week for the reception and entertain¬ ment of the principal gentry of the country., Nor were even the clergy^ who had the poorest benifices neglected by him. He not only occasionally invited them to dine with him, but condescended to visit them at their respective par ishes. By his will he left five hundred pounds to the Socie¬ ty for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts and some legacies to his friends and domestics. His executor and residuary legatee was his chaplain, the Rev. Dr Nathaniel Forster, a divine of distinguished literature. Bishop Butler was never married. Soon after his decease, the following lines, by way of epitaph, were written concerning him ; and were printed first, if we recollect aright, in the London Ma¬ gazine. Beneath this marble, Butler lies entombed, Who, with a soul enflamed by love divine. His life in presence of his God consumed. Like the bright lamps before ihe holy shrine. His aspect pleasing, mind with learning fraught, His eloquence was like a chain of gold. That the wild passions of mankind controlled; Merit, wherever to be found, he sought. Desire of transient riches he had none; These he, with bounteous hand, did well dispense Bent to fulfil the ends of Providence; His heart still fixed on an immortal crown; His heart a mirror was, of purest kind. Where the bright image of his Maker shined; Reflecting faithful to the throne above. The arrauiant glories of the Mystic Dove. The following Epitaph, said to be written by Dr Nathan* iel Forster, is inscribed on a flat marble stone, in the ca¬ thedral church cf Bristol, placed over the spot where the remains of Bishop Butler are deposited ; and which, as it is now almost obliterated, it may be worth while here to preserve. H. IS. Reverendus adraodum in Christo Pater JOSEPHUS BUTLER, LL. D. Hujusce primo Dioecescos Deinde Dunelmensis Episcopus. Hualis quantusq; Vir erat Sua libentissime agnovit set as: Et si quid Prsesuli aut Scriptori ad famam valent Mens altissima, Ingenii perspicacis et Bubacti Vis, Animusq; pius, simplex, Candidas, liberalis, , Mortui baud facile evanescet memoria. Obiit Bathonise 16 Kalend. Julii, A. D. 1752. Aiinos natus 60. 2 ADVERTISEMENT. If the reader should meet hero with any thing which he had not before attended to, it will not be in the observations upon the constitution and course of nature, these being all obvious ; but in the application of them : in which, though there is nothing but what appears to me of some real weight, and theri»tfore, of great importance; yet he will observe several things which will appear to him of very little, if he can think things to be of little importance, which are of any real weight at all, upon such a subject as religion. How¬ ever, the proper force of the following treatise lies in the whole general analogy considered together. It is come, 1 know not how, to be taken for granted, by many persons, that Christianity is not so much as a subject of inquiry ; but that it is. now at length, discovered to be fictitious. And accordingly they treat it, as if, in the pre¬ sent age, this were an agreed point among all people of dis» cernment ; and nothing remained, but to set it up as a prin¬ cipal subject of mirth and ridicule, as it were by way of re¬ prisals, for its having so long interrupted the pleasures of the world. On the contrary, thus much, at least, will be here found, not taken for granted, but proved, that any reasona¬ ble man, who will thoroughly consider the matter, may be as much assured, as he is of his own being, that it is not, liowcver, so clear a case, that there is nothing in it. There is, I think, strong evidence of its truth; but it is certain 28. ADVERTISEMENT. no one can, upon principles of reason, be satisfied of the contrary. And the practical consequence to be drawn from this, is not attended to, by every one who is concerned in it. May, 1736. INTRODUCTION. Probable evidence is essentially distinguished from de¬ monstrative‘by this, that it admits of degrees, and of all variety of them, from the highest moral certainty, to the ve¬ ry lowest presumption. We cannot, indeed, say a thing is probably true upon one very slight presumption for it; be¬ cause, as there "may be probabilities on both sides of the question, there may be some against it; and though there be not, yet a slight presumption does not beget that degree of conviction, which it implied in saying a thing is probably true. But that the slightest possible presumption is of the nature of a probability, appears from hence, that such low presumption, often repeated, will amount even to moral cer¬ tainty. Thus, a man’s having observed the ebb and flow of the tide to-day, affords some sort of presumption, though the lowest imaginable, that it may happen again to-morrow ; but the observation of this event for so man}” days, and months, and ages together, as it has been observed by mankind, gives us a full assurance that it will. That which chiefly constitutes prohabiiUy^ is expressed in the word likely; i. e. like some truth,* or true event; like it, in itself, in its evidence, in some more or fewer of its circum¬ stances. For when we determine a thing to be probably true, suppose that an event has or will come to pass, ’i is from the mind’s remarking in it a likeness to some other events * Verisemile. 30 INTRODUCTION. whicli we have observed has come to pass, And this ob¬ servation forms, in numberless daily instances, a presump¬ tion, opinion, or full conviction, that such event has or will come to pass ; according as the observation is, that the like event has sometimes, most commonly, or always, so far as our observation reaches, come to pass at like distances of time, or place, or upon like occasions. Hence arises the be¬ lief, that a child, if it lives twenty years, will grow up to the stature and strength of a man ; that food will contribute to the preservation of its life, and the want of it for such a number of days be its certain destruction. So, likewise, the rule and measure of our hopes and fears concerning the suc¬ cess of our pursuits ; our expectations that others will act so and so in such circumstances; and our judgment that such actions proceed' from such principles ; all these rely upon our having observed the like to what we hope, fear, ex¬ pect. judge ; 1 say upon our having observed the like, either with respect to others or ourselves. And thus, whereas the prince,"'^ who had always lived in a warm climate, naturally concluded, in the way of analogy, that there was no such thing as water’s becoming hard, because he had always ob¬ served it to be fluid and yielding ; 'we, on the contrary, from analogy, conclude, that there is no presumption at all against this ; that it is supposable there may be frost in England any given day in January next; probable, that there will on some day of the month ; and that there is a moral certainty, i. e. ground for an expectation, without any doubt of it, in some part or other of the winter. Probable evidence, in its very nature, affords but an im¬ perfect kind of information, and is to be considered as rela tive only to beings of limited capacities. For nothing which is the possible object of knowledge, whether past, present, or future, can be probable to an infinite intelligence ? since it cannot but be discerned absolutely as it is in itself certainly true, or certainly false. But to us, probability is the very guide of life. From these things it follows, that in questions of difficul¬ ty, or such as are thought so, where more satisfactory evi¬ dence cannot be had, or is not seen, if the result of examina¬ tion be, that there appears, upon the whole, any the lowest presumption on one side, and none on the other, or a greatci presumption on one side, though in the lowest degree grea- • The Story is told by Mr Locke, in the chapter of Probability. INTRODUCTION. 31 ter, this determines the question, even in matters of specu¬ lation ; and, in matters of practice, will lay us under an ab* solute and formal obligation, in point of prudence and of in* terest, to act upon that presumption, or low probability, though it be so low as to leave the mind in a very great doubt which is the truth. For surely a man is as really bound in prudence to do what upon the whole appears, ac¬ cording to the best of his. judgment, to be for his happiness, as what he certainly knows to be so. Nay, further, in ques¬ tions of great consequence, a reasonable man will think it concerns him to remark lower probabilities and presumptions than these ; suc4i as amount to no more than showing one side of a question to be as supposable and credible as the other ; nay, such as but amount to much less even than this. For numberless instances might be mentioned res¬ pecting the corhmon pursuits of life, where a man would be thought, in a literal sense, distracted, who would not act, and with great application too, not only upon an even chance, but upon much less, and where the probability or chance was greatly against his succeeding.* It is not my design to inquire further into the nature, the foundation, and measure of probability; or whence it pro¬ ceeds, that likeness should beget that presumption, opinion, and full conviction, .which the human mind is formed to re¬ ceive from it, and which it does necessarily produce in every one ; or to guard against the errors to which reasoning from analogy is liable. This belongs to the subject of logic, and is a part of this subject which has not yet been thoroughly considered. Indeed I shall not take upon me to say, how far the extent, compass, and force, of analogical reasoning can be reduced to general heads and rules, and the whole be formed into a system. But though so little in this way has been attempted by those who have treated of our intellectu¬ al powers, and the exercise of them, this does not hinder but that we may be, as we unquestionably are, assured, that analogy is of weight, various degrees, towards determining our judgment, and our practice. Nor does it in any wise cease to be of weight in those cases, because persons, either given to dispute, or who require things to be stated with greater exactness than our faculties appear to admit of in practical matters, may find other cases, in which it is not * See Chap, vi Part 2, 32 INTRODUCTION. easy to say, whether it be, or be not, of any weight; or in¬ stances of seeming analogies, which are really of none. It r is enough to the present purpose to observe, that this gene¬ ral way of arguing is evidently natural, just and conclusive, For there is no man can make a question but that the sun will rise to-morrow, and be seen, where it is seen at all, in q the figure of a circle, and not in that of a square. , Hence, namely from analogical reasoning, Origen* has with singular sagacity observed, that, ‘ he^who believes the Scriptures to have proceeded fi'om him who is the Author of nature, may well expect to find the same sort of difficul¬ ties in it, as are found in the constitution of pature.’ And, in a like way of reflection, it may be added, that he who de¬ nies the Scripture to have been from God, upon account of these difficulties, may for the very same reason, deny the world to have been formed by him. On the other hand, if there be an analogy, or likeness, between that system of things and dispensation of Providence which revelation in¬ forms us of, and that system of ,thmgs and dispeiisation of Providence which experience, together with reason, informs us of, i. e. the known course of nature ; this is a presump¬ tion, that they have both the same author and cause ; at least so far as to answer objections against the former being from God, drawn from any thing which is analogical or simi¬ lar to what is in the latter, which is acknowledged to be from him ; for an Author of nature is here supposed. Forming our notions of the constitution and government of the world upon reasoning, without foundation for the principles which we assume, whether from the attributes of God, or any thing else, is building a world upon hypothesis, like Des Cartes. Forming our notions upon reasoning from principles which are certain, but applied to cases to which wc have no ground to apply them, (like those who explain the structure of the human body, and the nature of diseases and medicines, from mere madiernatics, without sufficient data) is an error much akin to the former : since what is as¬ sumed, in order to make the reasoning apiilicable, is hypothe¬ sis. But it must be allowed just, to join abstract reasoning with the observation of facts, and argue from such facts as are known, to others that are like them ; from that part of the Divine government over intelligent creatures, which * Xpn fi£v Toi yt Tov (ZTTal 'rapaSe^aixevov ra KTicavros rov Koapov civai -av ras rng ypa(bas mircKrOai, hri baa rrspi rrjs /crtccws airavTU roi^ ^rjTuai tov nept avrijs Aoyov, ravra. Kai mpi tiov ypa^poov. Philocal. p. 23. Ed. Cant. INTRODUCTION. 33 comes under our view, to that larger and more general go* rernment over them which is beyond it; and from what is present, to collect what is likely, credible, or not incredible, will be hereafter. This method, then, of concluding and determining, being practical, and what, if we will act at all, we cannot but act upon in the common pursuits of life ; being evidently con¬ clusive, in various degrees, proportionable to the degree and exactness of the whole analogy or likeness ; and hav¬ ing so great authority for its introduction into the subject of religion, even revealed religion, my design is to apply it to that subject in general, both natural and revealed ; taking for proved, that there is an intelligent Author of Na¬ ture, and natural Governor of the world. For as there is no presumption against this, prior to the proof of it, so it has been often proved with accumulated evidence ; from this ar¬ gument of analogy and final causes ; from abstract reason¬ ings ; from the most ancient tradition and testimony; and from the general consent of mankind. Nor does it appear, so far as I can find, to be denied by the generality of those who profess themselves dissatisfied with the evidence of religion. As there are some, who, instead of thus attending to what is in fact the constitution of Nature, form their notions of God’s government upon hypothesis ; iSO there are others who indulge themselves in vain and idle speculations, how the world might possibly have been framed otherwise than it is: and upon supposition that things might, in imagining that they should, have been disposed and carried on after a better model, than what appears in the present disposition and conduct of them. Suppose, now, a person of such a turn of mind to go on with his reveries, till he had at length fixed upon some particular plan of Nature, as appearing to him the best,—one shall scarce be thought guilty of detrac¬ tion against human understanding, if one should say, even beforehand, that the plan which this speculative person would fix upon, though he were the wisest of the sons of men, probably would not be the very best, even accor¬ ding to his own notion of lest; whether he thought that to be so which afforded occasions and motives for the exercise of the greatest virtue, or which was productive of the greatest happiness, or that these two were necessarily connected, and run up into one and the same plan. How¬ ever it may not be amiss, once for all, to see what would be 2 * 34 INTRODUCTION. the amount of these emendations and imaginary improve¬ ments upon the system of Nature, or how far they would mislead us. And it seems there could be no stopping, till we come to some such conclusions as these :—That all crea¬ tures should at first be made as perfect and as happy, as they were capable of ever being ; that nothing, to be sure, of hazard or danger should be put upon them to do ; some indolent persons would perhaps think, nothing at all; or certainly, that effectual care should be taken, that they should, whether necessary or not, yet eventually and in fact, always do what was right and most conducive to happiness, which would be thought easy for infinite power to effect, either by not giving them any principles which would endanger their going wrong, or by laying the right motive of action in every instance, before their minds con¬ tinually, in so strong a manner, as would never fail of indu¬ cing them to act conformably to it; and that the whole method of governmient by punishments should be rejected as absurd ; as an awkward round-about method of carrying things on ; nay, as contrary to a principal purpose, for which it would be supposed creatures were made, namely, hap¬ piness. Now, without considering what is to be said in particu¬ lar to the several parts of this train of folly and extrava¬ gance, what has been above intimated is a full, direct, gene¬ ral answer to it, namely, that we may see beforehand that we have not faculties for this kind of speculation. For though it be admitted, that, from the first principles of our nature, we unavoidably judge or determine some ends to be absolutely in themselves preferable to others, and that the ends now mentioned, or if they run up into one, that this one is absolutely the best, and consequently, that we must conclude the ultimate ends designed in the con¬ stitution of nature and conduct of Providence, is the most virtue and happiness possible ; yet we are far from being able to judge what particular disposition of things would be most friendly and assistant to virtue, or what means might be absolutely necessary to produce the most happi¬ ness in a system of such extent as our own world may be, taking in all that is past and to come, though we should suppose it detached from the whole of things. Indeed, wo are so far from being able to judge of this, that we are not judges what may be the necessary means of raising and conducting one person to the highest perfection and happiness INTRODUCTION. 35 of his nature. Nay, even in the little affairs of the present life, we find men of different education and ranks are not competent judges of the conduct of each other. Our whole nature leads us to ascribe all moral perfection to God, and to deny all imperfection in him. And this will forever be a practical proof of his moral character, to such as will con¬ sider what a practical proof is, because it is the voice of God speaking in us. And from hence we conclude, that virtue must be the happiness, and vice the misery, of every creature ; and that regularity, and order, and right, cannot but prevail, finally, in a universe under his government. But we are in no sort judges what are the necessary means of accomplishing this end. Let us, then, instead of that idle and not very innocent employment of forming imaginary models of a world, and schemes of governing it, turn our thoughts to what we ex¬ perience to be the conduct of Nature with respect to intelli¬ gent creatures ; which may be resolved into general laws or rules of administration, in the same way as many of the laws of Nature, respecting inanimate matter, may be col¬ lected from experiments. And let us compare the known constitution and course of things with what is said to be the moral system of Nature, the acknowledged dispensations of Providence, or that government which we find ourselves under, with what religion teaches us to'believe and expect, and see whether they are not analogous, and of a piece. And upon such a comparison it will, I think, be found, that they are very much so ; that both may be traced up to the same general laws, and resolved into the same principles of Divine conduct. Phe analogy here proposed to be considered, is of pretty large extent, and consists of several parts ; in some more, in . others less, exact. In some few instances, perhaps, it may amount to a real practical proof, in others not so ; yet in these it is a confirmation of what is proved otherwise. It will undeniably show, what too many want to have shown them, that the system of religion, both natural and revealed, considered only as a system, and prior to the proof of it, is not a subject of ridicule, unless that of nature be so too. Anl it will afford an answer to almost all objections against the system both of natural and of revealed religion, though not perhaps an answer in so great a degree, yet in a very considerable degree an answer, to the objections against the evidence of it; for, objections against a proof, and objections 36 intropt;ction. against what is said to be proved, the reader will observe^ are different things. Now, the divine government of the world, implied in the notion of religion in general, and of Christianity, contains in it,—That mankind is appointed to live in a future state that there every one shall be rewarded or punished re¬ warded or punished respectively for all that behaviour here which we comprehend under the words, virtuous or vicious, morally good or evil: J that our present life is a probation, a state of trial,§ and of discipline, j| for that future one; notwithstanding the objections which men may fancy they have, from notions of necessity, against there being any such moral plan as this at all; IT and whatever objectiojis may appear to lie against the wisdom and goodness of it, as it stands so imperfectly made known to us at present: * that this world being in a state of apostacy and wickedness, and consequently of ruin, and the sense both of their condi¬ tion and duty being greatly corrupted amongst men, this gave occasion for an additional dispensation of Providence, of the utmost importance, 'j* | proved by miracles, J J but containing in it many things appearing to us strange, and not to have been expected ; § § a dispensation of Providence, which is a scheme or system of things || || carried on by the mediation of a Divine person, the Messiah, in order to the recovery of the world: IT IT yet not revealed to all men, nor proved with the strongest possible evidence to all those to whom it is revealed ; but only to such a part of mankind, and with such particular evidence, as the wisdom of God thought fit.^^ * The design, then, of the following Treatise will be to show, that the several parts principally objected against in his moral and Christian dispensation, including its scheme, its publication, and the proof which God has af¬ forded us of its truth ; that the particular parts principally objected against in this whole dispensation, are analogous to what is experienced in the constitution and course of Nature, or Providence ; that the chief objections themselves, which are alleged against the former, are no other than what may be alleged with like justness against the latter, where they are found in fact to be inconclusive ; and that this argument, from analogy, is in general unanswerable, and undoubtedly ♦Ch. i. . ' TCh.ii. tCh.iii. 6Ch. iv. . II Ch. V. IT Ch vL ♦*Ch. vii f r Part II. ch. i. *tCh. iL §§Ch.iii. IlllCh. iv. TTirCh.v. * * * Ch. vi. vii. INTRODUCTION. of weight on the side of religion,* notwithstanding the ob¬ jections which may seem to lie against it, and the real ground which there may be for difference of opinion as to the particular degree of weight which is to be laid upon it. This is a general account of what may be looked for in the following Treatise. And I shall begin it with that which is the foundation of all our hopes, and of all our fears—all our hopes and fears, which are of any consideration—I mean, a future life. * Ch. viiL ij yf' ‘ ‘ ■* .-. »v|^ V*> ’-■f ' ':i'^^ •■‘ : :•»;>) *r • / ^» ■ .'I ■ r^ii -,:; I '/7 ' ■-' ’ V * .* V.Jiff’ «l .< ■ ■ \ * ■^I • . ‘■I1» Hj' ,'. ■f, I ■ •, . >» k - . .^ «• ^ C. » > . Vi , * i. % * ' ■ i '•'lW- • ^ V - '.3 k,'*-’ l . », - -. - . .. ■ i-s*: V . ‘---.Hf >:> •';i“r.:..v -';■ - .-,U-'■ ' ■' " <»: • -i J • V* i; THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION TO THE CX)NSTITUTION AND COURSE OF NATURE. PART I. OF NATURAL RELIGION. CHAP. I. Of a Future Life. Strange difficulties have been raised by some concern* ing personal identity, or the sameness of living agents, im¬ plied in the notion of our existing now and hereafter, or in any two successive moments ; which whoever thinks it worth while, may see considered in the first Dissertation at the end of this Treatise. But, without regard to any of them here, let us consider what the analogyof Nature, and the several changes which we have undergone, and those which we know we may undergo without being destroyed, suggest, as to the effect which death may, or may not, have upon us ; and whether it be not from thence probable, that we may survive this change, and exist in a future state of life and perception. I. From our being born into the present world in the help¬ less imperfect state of infancy, and having arrived from thence to mature age, we find it to be a general law of nature }n our own species, that the same 'creatures, the same 40 OF A FUTURE LIFE. [part I. individuals, should exist in degrees of life and perception, with capacities of action, of enjoyment, and suffering, in one period of their being, greatly different from those ap¬ pointed them in another period of it. And in other creatures the same law holds. For the difference of their capacities and states of life at their birth (to go’no higher) and in ma¬ turity ; the change of worms into flies, and the vast enlarge¬ ment of their locomotive powers by such change ; and birds and insects bursting the shell, then habitation, and by this means entering into a new world, furnished with new ac¬ commodations for them ; and finding a new sphere of action assigned them ;—these are instances of this general law of nature. Thus, all the various and wonderful transforma¬ tions of animals are'to be taken into consideration' here. But the states of life in which we ourselves existed for¬ merly, in the womb and in our infancy, are almost as differ¬ ent from our present, in mature age, as it is possible to conceive any two states or degrees of life can be. There¬ fore, that we are to exist hereafter in a state as different (suppose) from our present, as this is from our former, is but according to the analogy of nature ; according to a natural order or appointment, of the very same kind with what we have already experienced. II. We know we are endued with capacities of action, of happiness, and misery; for we are conscious of acting, of enjoying pleasure, and suffering pain. Now, that we have these powers and capacities before death, is a presumption that we shall retain them through and after death ; indeed, a probability of it abundantly sufficient to act upon, unless there be some positive reason to think that death is the de struction of those living powers ; because there is in every case a probability, that all things will continue as we expe¬ rience they are,' in all respects, except those in which we have some reason to think they will be altered. This is that kind^ of presumption, or probability, from analogy, expressed in the very word continuance^ which seems our only natural reason for believing the course of the world will continue to-morrow, as it has done so far as our experience or knowledge of history can carry us back. Nay, it seems our only reason for believing, that any one substance, now * I say kind of presumption or probability ; for 1 do not mean to affirm, that there is the same degree of conviction that our living powers will con¬ tinue after death, as there is, that our will CHAT. I.] OF A FUTURE LIFE. 41 existing, will continue to exist a moment longer ; the self- existent substance only excepted. Thus, if men were as¬ sured that the unknown event, death, was not the destruc¬ tion of our faculties of perception and of action, there wmuld be no apprehension that any other power or event, uncon¬ nected with this of death, would destroy these faculties just at the instant of each creature’s death ; and therefore no doubt but that they w'ould remain after it: which shows the high probability that our living powers will continue after death, unless there be some ground to think that death is their destruction. ^ For, if it would be in a manner certain that WQ should surwve duath, provided it Were certain that death would not be our destruction, it must be highly proba¬ ble we shall survive it, if there be no ground to^huk death will be our destruction. Now, though I think it must be acknowledged, that prior to the natural and moral proofs of a future life commonly insisted upon, there would arise a general confused suspi¬ cion, that, in the great shock and alteration which we shall undergo by death, we, i. e. our livmg powers, might be wholly destrojmd ; yet even prior to those proofs, there is really no particular distinct ground, or reason, for this appre¬ hension at all, so far as I can find. If there be, it must arise either from Ihe reason of the things or from the analogy of JVature. But we cannot argue from the reason of the things that death is the destruction of living agents, because we know not at all what death is in itself; but only some of its eiTects, such as the dissolution of flesh, skin, and bones : and these effects do in no wise appear to imply the destruction of a living agent. And, besides, as we are greatly in the dark upon what the exercise of our living powders depends, so we are wholl}^ ignorant what the powers themselves depend upon; the powers themselves, as distinguished, not only * DestructiGU of living powers, is a manner of expression unavoidably ambiguous ; and may signify either tlic destruction of a living being, so as that the same living being shall be incapable of ever perceiving or acting again at all; or the destruction qf those means and mstrufnents by xchich it is capable of its present life, of its present state of perception and of action. It is here used in the former sense. When it is used in the latter, the epithet present is added. The loss of a mail’s eye is a destruction of living powers in the latter sense. But we have no reason to think the de¬ struction of living powers, in the former sense, to be possible. We have no more reason to think a being, endued with living powers, ever loses them durincr its whole existence, than to believe that a stone ever aconites thern> 42 OF A FUTURi; LIFE. [CHAF. I. from their actual exercise, but also from the present capaci¬ ty of exercising them ; and opposed to their destruction ; for sleep, or, however, a swoon, shows us, not only that these powers exist when they are not exercised, as the passive power of motion does in inanimate matter ; but shows also that they exist, when there is no present capa¬ city of exercising them ; or that the capacities of exercising them for the present, as well as the actual exercise of them, may be suspended, and yet the powers themselves remain undestroyed. Since, then, we know n^-^at all upon what the existence of our living powers depends, this show’s fur¬ ther, there can no probability be collected horn the reason of the thing, that death wdll be their destruction : because their existence may depend upon somewhat in no degree affected by death ; upon somewhat quite out of the reach of this king of terrors. So that there is nothing more certain, than that the reason of the thing shows us no connexion between death and the destruction of living agents. Nor can we find any thing throughout the whole analogy of JVaturCj to afford us even the slightest presumption, that animals ever lose their living powers ; much less, if it were possible, that they lose them by death ; for we have no faculties wherewith to trace any beyond or through it, so as to see what becomes of them. This event removes them from our view. It destroys the sensible proof, which we had before their death, of their being possessed of living powers, but does not appear to afford the least reason to believe, that they are then, or by that event, deprived, of them. And our knowing, that they were possessed of these powers, up to the very period to which we have faculties capable of tracing them, is itself a probability of their retain¬ ing them beyond it. And this is confirmed, and a sensible credibility is given to it, by observing the very great and astonishing changes which we have experienced ; so great, that our existence in another state of life, of perception and of action, will be but according to a method of providential conduct, the like to which has been already exercised, even with regard to ourselves ; according to a course of nature, the like to which we have already gone through. However, as one cannot but be greatly sensible, how difficult it is to silence imagination enough to make, the voice of reason even distinctly heard in this case ; as we are accustomed, from our youth up, to indulge that forward delusive faculty, ever obtruding beyond its sphere j of some PART I.] OF A FUTURE LIFE. 43 assistance, indeed, to apprehension, but the author of ail error; as we plainly lose ourselves in gross and crude con¬ ceptions of things, taking for granted that we are acquaint* ed with what indeed we are wholly ignorant of; it may be proper to consider the imaginary presumptions, that death will be our destruction, arising from these kinds of early and lasting prejudices; and to show how little they can really amount to, even though we cannot wholly divest ourselves of them. And I. All presumption of death’s being the destruction of liv¬ ing beings, must go upon supposition that they are com¬ pounded, and so discerptible. But, since consciousness is a single and individual power, it should seem that the subject in which it resides, m_ust be so too. For, were the motion of any particle of matter absolutely one and indivisible, so as that it should imply a contradiction to suppose part of this motion to exist, and part not to exist i. e. part of this matter to move, and part to be at rest; then its power of motion would be indivisible ; and so also would the subject in which the power inheres, namely, the particle of matter : for, if this could be divided into two, one part might be moved and the other at rest, which is contrary to the supposition. In like manner, it has been argued, * and, for any thing ap¬ pearing to the contrary, justly, that since the perception, or consciousness, which we have of our own existence is indi¬ visible, so as that it is a contradiction to suppose one part of it should be here and the other there ; the perceptive power, or the power of consciousness, is indivisible too : and, conse¬ quently, the subject in which it resides, i. e. the conscious being. Now, upon supposition that living agent each man calls himself, is thus a single being, which there is at least no more difficulty in conceiving than in conceiving it to be a compound, and of which there is the proof now mentioned; it follows, that our organized bodies are no more ourselves, or part of ourselves, than any other matter around us. And it is as easy to conceive how matter, which is no part of ourselves, may be appropriated to us in the manner which our present bodies are, as how we can receive impressions from, and have power over any matter. It is as easy to conceive, that we may exist out of bodies, as in them ; that we might have animated bodies of any other organs and senses wholly different from these now given us, and that * See Dr Clarke’s I^etter to Mr Dodwell, and the Defences of it. 44 or* A FUTURE LIFE. [cHAP. ! \\’'e may nereafter animate these same or new bodies vari¬ ously modified and organized, as to conceive how we can animate such bodies as our present. And, lastly, the disso¬ lution of all these several organized bodies, supposing our¬ selves to have successively animated them, would have no more conceivable tendency to destroy the living beings, our¬ selves, or deprive us of hving faculties, the faculties of per¬ ception and of action, than the dissolution of any foreign matter, which we are capable of receiving impressions from, and making use of for the common occasions of life. II. The simplicity and absolute oneness of a living agent cannot, indeed, from the nature of the thing, be properly proved by experimental observations. But as these fall in with the supposition of its unit}^ so they plainly lead us to conclude certain!}^, that our gross organized bodies, with which we perceive the objects of sense, and with which we act, are no part of ourselves, and therefore show us, that wm have no reason to believe their destruction to be ours ; even wfilhout determining whether our living substances ba material or immaterial. For wm see by experience, that men may lose their limbs, their organs of sense, and even the greatest part of these bodies, and yet remain the same living agents ; And persons can trace up the existence of themselves to a time when the bulk of their bodies was ex¬ tremely small, in comparison of what it is in mature age; and we cannot but think, that they might then have lost a considerable part of that small body, and yet have remained the same living agents, as they may now lose great part of their present body^ and remain so. And it is certain, that the bodies of all animals are in a constant flux, from that never ceasing attrition which there is in every part of them. Now, things of this kind unavoidably teach us to distinguish between these living agents, ourselves, and large quantities of matter, in which we are very nearly interested: since these may be alienated, and actually are in a daily course of succession, and changing their owners; whilst we are assured, that each living agent remains one and the same permanent being.'* And this general observation leads us on to the following ones. Firsts That we have no way of determining by expe¬ rience, what is the certain bulk of the living being each man calls himself; and yet, till it be determined that it is * See Dissertation T. CHAP. I.] OF A FUTURE LIFE. 45 larger in bulk than the solid elementaiy particles of matter, which there is no ground to think any natural power can dissolve, there is no sort of reason to think death to be the dissolution of it, of the living being, even though it should not be absolutel}'' indiscerptible. Secondly^ From our being so nearly related to, and inter¬ ested in certain systems of matter, suppose our flesh and bones, afterwards ceasing to be at all related to them, the living agents, ourselves, remaining all this while undesiioy- ed, notwithstanding such alienations : and consequently these systems of matter not being ourselves ; it follows fur¬ ther, that we have no ground to conclude any other, suppose internal systems of matter, to be the living agents ourselves : because we can have no ground to conclude this, but from our relation to, and interest in such other systems of matter ; and, therefore, we can have no reason to conclude, what befalls those systems of matter at death, to be the destruction of the living agents. We have already, several times over, lost a great part, or perhaps the v.?holti of our bodjq accord¬ ing to certain common established laws of nature ; yet we remain the same living agents : when we shall lose as great a part, or the whole, by another common established law of nature, death, why may we not also remain the same % That the alienation has been gradual in one case, and in the other will be more at once, does not prove any thing to the contrary. We have passed undestroyed through those many and great revolutions of matter, so peculiarly appro¬ priated to ourselves ; why should we imagine death would be so fatal to us '1 Nor can it be objected, that what is thus alienated, or lost, is no part of our original solid body, but only adventitious matter ; because we' may lose entire limbs, which must have contained many solid parts and vessels of the original body: or if this be not admitted, we have no proof that any of these solid parts are dissolved or alienated by dee.th ; though, by the way, we are very nearly related to that extraneous or adventitious matter, wlrilst it continues united to and distending the several parts of our solid body. But, after all, the relation a person bears to those parts of his body to which he is the most nearly related, what does it appear to amount to but this, that the living agent and those parts of the body mutually affect each other % And the same thing, the same thing in kind, though not in de¬ gree, may be said of all foreign matter, which gives us ideas, and which we have any power over. From these 40 OF A FUTURE LIFE. [part I observations the whole ground of the imagination is remov¬ ed, that the dissolution of any matter is the destruction of a living agent, from the interest he once had in such matter. Tnirdly, If we consider our body somewhat more distinct¬ ly, as made up of organs and instruments of perception and of motion, it will bring us to the same conclusion. Thus, the common optical experiments show, and even the obser¬ vation how sight is assisted by glasses shows, that we see with our eyes in the same sense as we see with glasses. Nor is there any reason to believe, that we see with them in any other sense ; any other, I mean, which would lead us to think the eye itself a percipient. The like is to be said of hearing: and our feeling distant solid matter by means of somewhat in our hand, seems an instance of the like kind, as to the subject we are considering. All these are instances of foreign matter, or such as is no part of our body, being instrumental in preparing objects for, and conveying them to the perceiving power, in a manner similar, or like to the manner in which our organs of sense prepare and convey them. Both are, in a like way, instruments of our receiv¬ ing such ideas from external objects, as the Author of na¬ ture appointed those external objects to be the occasions of exciting in us. However, glasses are evidently instances of this ; namely, of matter, which is no part of our body, pre¬ paring objects for, and conveying them towards the perceiv¬ ing power, in like manner as our bodily organs do. And if we see with our eyes only in the same manner as we do with glasses, the like may justly be concluded from analogy, of all our other senses. It is not intended, by any thing here said, to affirm, that the whole apparatus of vision, cr of per ception by any other of our senses, can be traced, through all its steps, quite up to the living power of seeing, or per¬ ceiving ; but that, so far as it can be traced by experimental observations, so far it appears, that our organs of sense pre¬ pare and convey on objects, in order to their being perceived, in like manner as foreign matter does, without affording any shadow of appearance, that they themselves perceive. And that we have no reason to think our organs of sense perci¬ pients, is confirmed by instances of persons losing some of them, the living beings themselves, their former occupiers, remaining unimpaired. It is confirmed also by the experi¬ ence of dreams; by which we find we are at present pos¬ sessed of a latent, and what would otherwise be an unima- gined unknown power of perceiving sensible objects, in as CHAP. I.] OF A FUTURE LIFE. 41 strong and lively a manner without our external organs of sense, as with them. So also with regard to our power, of moving, or directing motion by will and choice ; upon the destruction of a limb, this active power remains, as it evidently seems, unlessened; so as that the living being, who has suffered this loss, would be capable of moving as before, if it had another limb to move with. It can walk by the help of an artificial leg, just as it can make use of a pole or a lever, to reach towards itself and to move things beyond the length and the power of its natural arm : and this last it does in the same manner as it reaches and moves, with its natural arm, things nearer and of less weight. Nor is there so much as any appear¬ ance of our limbs being endued with a power of moving or directing themselves ; though they are adapted, like the se¬ veral parts of a machine, to be the instruments of motion to each other ; and some parts of the same limb, to be instru¬ ments of motion to the other parts of it. Thus, a man determines that, he will look at such an ob¬ ject through a microscope ; or, being lame suppose, that he will walk to such a place with a staff a week hence. His eyes and his feet no more determine in these cases, than the microscope and the staff. Nor is there any ground to think they any more put the determination in the practice, or that his ej^es are the seers, or his feet the movers, in any other sense than as the microscope and the staff are. Upon the whole, then, our organs of sense and our limbs are certainly instruments, which the living persons, ourselves, make use of to perceive and move with. There is not any probability, that they are any more ; nor, consequently, that we have any other kind of relation to them, than what we may have to any other foreign matter formed into instruments of per¬ ception and motion, suppose into a microscope or a staff' (1 say, any other kind of relation, for I am not speaking of the degree of it; nor, consequently, is there any probability, that the alienation or dissolution of these instruments is the destruction of the perceiving and moving agent. And thus our finding, that the dissolution of matter in which living beings were most nearly interested, is not their dissolution; and that the destruction of several of the or¬ gans and instruments of perception and of motion belong¬ ing to them, is not their destruction ; shows, demonstrative¬ ly, that there is no ground to think, that the dissolution of any other matter or destruction of any other organs 48 OF A FUTURE LIFE. [part 1 . and instruments, will be the dissolution or destruction of living agents, horn the like kind of relation. A'nd we have no reason to think we stand in any other kind of relation to any thing which we find dissolved by death. But it is said, these observations are equally applicable tc brutes ; and it is thought an insuperable difficulty, that they should be immortal, and, by consequence, capable of everlasting happiness. Now, this manner of expression is both invidious and weak : but the thing intended by it, is really no difficulty at all, either in the way of natural or moral consideration. For, 1st, Suppose the invidious thing, designed in such a manner of expression, wmre really im¬ plied, as it is not in the least, in the natural immortality of brutes ; namely, that they must arrive at great attainments, and become rational and moral agents ; even this would be no difficulty, since we know not what latent powers and capacities they may be endued with. There was once, pri¬ or to experience, as great presumption against human crea¬ tures, as there is against the brute creatures, arriving at that degree of understanding which we have in mature age; for we can trace up our own existance to the same original with theirs. And we find it to be a general law of nature, that creatures endued, with capacities of virtue and religion, should be placed in a condition of being, in which they are altogether without tire use of them for a considerable length of their duration, as in infancy and childhood. And great part of the human species go out of the present world, be^- fore they come to the exercise of these capacities in any de¬ gree at all. But then, 2dly, The natural immortality of brutes does not in the least imply, that they are endued with any latent capacities of a rational or moral nature. And the economy of the universe might require, that there should be living creatures without any capacities of this kind. And all difficulties, as to the manner how they are to be dis¬ posed of, are so apparently and wholly founded on our igno¬ rance, that it is wonderful they should be insisted upon by any, but such as are weak enough to think they are acquainted with the whole system of things. There is, then, absolute¬ ly nothing at all in this objection, which is so rhetorically urged against the greatest part of the natural proofs or pre¬ sumptions of the immortality of human minds ; I say the greatest part ; for it is less applicable to the following ob¬ servation, which is more peculiar to mankind :— III. That as it is evident our present powers and capaci- CHAP. I.] OF A FUTURE LIFE. 49 tics of reason, memory, and aiFection, do not depend upon our gross body, in the manner in which perception by our organs of sense does ; so they do not appear to depend upon it at all in any such manner, as to give ground to think, that the dissolution of this body will be the destruction of these our present powers of reflection, as it will of our powers of sensation ; or to give ground to conclude, even that it will be so much as a suspension of the former. Human creatures exist at present in two states of life and perception, greatly different horn each other ; each of which has its own peculiar laws, and its o .vn peculiar en¬ joyments and sufferings. When any of our senses are affected, or appetites gratified with the objects of them, we may be said to exist, or live, in a state of sensation. When none of our senses are affected, or appetites gratified, and yet we perceive, and reason, and act, we may be said to ex¬ ist,,or live, in a state of .reflection. Now it is by no means certain, that any thing which is dissolved by death is any way necessary to the living being, in this Us state of reflec¬ tion, after ideas are gained. For though, from our present constitution and condition of being, our external organs of sense are necessary for conveying in ideas to our reflecting powers, as carriages, and levers, and scaffolds are in archi¬ tecture ; yet, when these ideas are brought in, we are capa¬ ble of reflecting in the most intense degree, and of enjoying the greatest pleasure, and feeling the greatest pain, by means of that reflection, without any assistance from our senses; and without anj? at all, which we know of, from that body, which will be dissolved by death. It does not appear, then, that the relation of this gross body to the re¬ flecting being, is in any degree, necessary to thinking ; to our intellectual enjoyments or sufferings : nor, consequently, that the dissolution, or alienation of the former by death, will be the destruction of those present powers, which render us capable of this state of reflection. Further, there are in¬ stances of moral diseases, which do not at ah affect our present intellectual powers ; and this affords a presumption, that those diseases will not destroy these present powers, [ndeed, from the observations made above, it appears, that .here is no presumption, from their mutually affecting each other, that the dissolution of the body is the destruction of 3 50 OF A FUTURE LIFE. [part I. the living agent. And by the same reasoning it must ap¬ pear, too, that there is no presumption, from their mutually affecting each other, that the dissolution of the body is the destruction of our present reflecting powers ; but instances of their not affecting each other, afford a presumption of the contrary. Instances of mortal disease not impairing our present reflecting powers, evidently turn our thoughts even from imagining such diseases to be the destruction of them, Several things, indeed, greatly affect all our living powers, and at length, suspend the exercise of them ; as, for in¬ stance, drowsiness, increasing till it ends in sound sleep : and from hence we might have imagined it would destroy them, till we found, by experience, the weakness of this way of judging. But, in the diseases now mentioned, there is not 60 much as the shadow of probability, to lead us to any such conclusion, as to the reflecting powers which we have at present; for, in those diseases, persons the moment before death appear to be in the highest vigor of life. They dis¬ cover apprehension, memory, reason, all entire; with the utmost force of affection ; sense of a character, of shame and honor ; and the highest mental enjoyments and suffer¬ ings, even to the last gasp : and these surely prove even greater vigor of life than bodily strength does. Now, what pretence is there for thinking, that a progressive disease, when arrived to such a degree, I mean that degree which is mortal, will destroy those powers, which were not impair¬ ed, which were not affected by it, during its whole progress, quite up to that degree 1 And if death, by diseases of this kind, is not the destruction of our present reflecting powers, it will scarce be thought that death by any other means is. It is obvious that this general observation may be carried on further ; and there appears so little connexion between our bodily powers of sensation, and our present powers of reflection, that there is no reason to conclude that death, which destroys the former, does so much as suspend the exercise of the latter, or interrupt our continuing to exist in the like state of reflection which we do now. For, suspen¬ sion of reason, memory, and the affections which they ex¬ cite, is no part of the idea of death, nor is implied in our notion of it. And our dail}^ experiencing these powers to be exercised, without any assistance, that we know of, from those bodies which will be dissolved by death ; and our find¬ ing often, that the exercise of them is so lively to the last;— these things afford a sensible apprehension, that death mav CHAP. I,] OF A FUTURE LIFE. 61 not perhaps be so much as a discontinuance of the exeicisr of these powers, nor of the enjoyments and sufferings which it implies;^ so that our posthumous life, whatever there may be in it additional to our present, yet may not be entirely be¬ ginning anew, but going on. Death may, in some sort, and in some respects, answer to our birth, which is not a sus¬ pension of the faculties which we had before it, or a total change of the state of life in which we existed when in the womb, but a continuation of both, with such and such great alterations. Nay, for ought we know of ourselves, of our present life, and of death, death may immediately, in the natural course of things, put us into a higher and more enlarged state of life, as our birth does a state in which our capacities and sphere of perception, and of action, may be much greater than at present. For, as our relation to our external organs of sense renders us capable of existing in our present state of sensation, so it may be the only natural hindrance to our existing, immediately and of course, in a higher state of re¬ flection. The truth is, reason does not at all show us in what state death naturally leaves us. But were we sure that it would suspend all our perceptive and active powers, yet the suspension of a power, and the destruction of it, are effects so totally different in kind, as we experience from sleep and a swoon, that we cannot in any wise argue from one to the other ; or conclude, even to the lowest degree of probability, that the same kind of force which is sufficient to suspend our faculties, though it be increased ever so much, will be sufficient to destroy them. These observations together may be sufficient to show, how little presumption there is that death is the destruction * There are three distinct questions, relating to a future life, here con¬ sidered : Whether death be the destruction of living agents 1 If not, Whether it be the destruction of their 'present powers of reflection, as it certainly is the destruction of their present powers of sensation 1 And if not. Whether it ke the suspension, or discontinuance of the exercise, of these present reflecting powers 1 Now, if there be no reason to believe the last, there will be, if tliat were possible, less for the next, and less still for the first. t This, according to Strabo, was the opinion of the Brahmans: vojii- ^Eiv jxsv yap Sr] tov psv evdaSs /?£OJ/,a)s av aKpriv Kvoyevuiv eivai' top 6e OavaTOP, yEPEijiS Eig TOP opTCog l3iop, Kai top EvSaipopa Toig (pt^^oaotprjaaai. JLib. XV^. p. 1039. Ed. Amst. 1707. To which opinion perhaps Antoninus rnay allude in these words, d) g pvp TEpipspstg, ttote EpPpvop ek nns yaaTpog Trjg yvpatKog as e^eXOt], sToog EKSc^saOai Tr]p cjpap bp t] to xpv^apiov as ts sXvTpg rsTS Si tTEaciTai. Lib. IX. C. 3. 52 OF A FUTUHE LIFE. [part L of human creatures. However, there is the shadow of an analogy, which may lead us to imagine it is ; the supposed likeness which is observed between the decay of vegetables and of living creatures. And this likeness is indeed suffi¬ cient to afford the poets very apt allusions to the flowers of the field, in their pictures of the frailty of our present life. But, in reason, the analogy is so far from holding, that there appears no ground even for the comparison, as to the present question ; because one of the two subjects compared is wholly void of that, which is the principle and chief thing in the other, the power of perception and action ; and which is the only thing we are inquiring about the continuance of. So th^t the destruction of a vegetable is an event not simi¬ lar, or analogous, to the destruction of a living agent. But if, as was above intimated, leaving off the delusive custom of substituting imagination in the room of experi¬ ence, we would confine ourselves to what we do know and understand; if we would argue only from that, and from that form our expectations, it would appear, at first sight, that as no probability of living beings ever ceasing to be so, can be concluded from the reason of the thing ; so none can be collected from the analogy of nature ; because we cannot trace any living beings beyond death. But as we are conscious that we are endued with capacities of percep¬ tion and of action, and are living persons, what we are to go upon is, that we shall continue so till we foresee some accident, or event, which will endanger those capacities, or be likely to destroy us ; which death does in no wise appear to be. And thus, when we go out of this world, we may pass into new sconces, and a new state of life and action, just as naturally as we came into the present. And this new state may naturally be a social one. And the advantages of it, ad¬ vantages of ever}^'kind, may naturally be bestowed, according to some fixed general laws of wisdom, upon every one in jiro- portion to the degrees of his virtue. And thouglmhe advanta¬ ges of that future natural state should not be bestowed, as these of the present in some ifieasure are, by the will of the society, but entirely by his more immediate action, upon whom the whole frame of nature depends, yet this distribution may be just as natural, as their being distributed here by the instru¬ mentality of men. And, indeed, though one were to allow any confused undetermined sense, which people please to put upon the word natural^ it would be a shortness of thought CHAP. I.] OF A FUTURE LIFE. 53 scarce credible to imagine, that no system or course of things can be so, but only what we see at present especially wliilst the probability of a future life, or the natural immor¬ tality of the soul, is admitted upon the evidence of reason ; because this is really both admitting and denying at once, a state of being different from the present to be natural. But the only distinct meaning of that word is, stated^ fixed^ or tied; since what is natural as much requires; and presuppo¬ ses an intelligent agent to render it so, i. e. to effect it con¬ tinually, or at stated times, as what is supernatural or mi¬ raculous does to effect it for once. And from hence it must follo\y, that persons’ notion of what is natural will be enlar¬ ged, in proportion to their greater knowledge of the works of God and the dispensations of his Providence. Nor is there any absurdity in supposing, that there may be beings in the universe, whose capacities, and knowledge, and views, may be so extensive, as that the v/hole Christian dispensation may to them appear natural, i. e. analogous or conformable to God’s dealings with other parts of his creation, as natural as the visible known course of things appears to us. For there seems scarce any other possible sense to be put upon the word, but that only in which it is here used ; similar, stated, or uniform. This credibility of a, future life, which has'been here in¬ sisted upon, how little soever it may satisfy our curiosity, seems to answer all the purposes of religion, in like manner as a demonstrative proof would. Indeed, a proof, even a de¬ monstrative one, of a future life, would not be a proof of reli¬ gion. For, that we are to live hereafter, is just as reconcilia- ble with the scheme of atheism, and as well to'be accounted for by it, as that we are now alive is ; and therefore nothing can be more absurd than to argue from that scheme, that there can be no future state. But as religion implies a fu¬ ture state, any presumption against such a state is a pre- Eumption against religion. And the foregoing observations lemove all presumptions of that sort, and prove, to a very considerable degree of probability, one fundamental doctrine of religion ; which if believed, would greatly open and dis¬ pose the mind seriously to attend to the general evidence of the whole * Se^ Fart ii. ch, 2. and Fart ii. ch. 3. 54 OF THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD [PART 1 \ CHAPTER 11. Cy ihe Government of God by Rewards and Vunishments; and particularly of the latter. That which makes the question concerning a future life to be of so great importance to us, is our capacity of happi* ness and misery. And that which makes the consideration of it to be of so great importance to us, is the supposition of our happiness and misery hereafter, depending upon our ac¬ tions here. Without this, indeed, curiosity could not but sometimes bring a subject, in which we may be so highly interested, to our thoughts ; especially upon the mortality of others, or the near prospect of our own. But reasonable men would not take any farther thought about hereafter, than what should happen thus occasionally to rise in their minds, if it were certain that our future interest no way de¬ pend upon our present behaviour ; whereas, on the contrary, if there be ground, either from analogy or any thing else, to think it does, then there is reason also for the most active thought and solicitude to secure that interest; to behave so as that we may escape that misery, and obtain that happi¬ ness in another life, which we not only suppose ourselves capable of, but which we apprehend also is put in our own power. And whether there be ground for this last appre¬ hension, certainly would deserve to be most seriously consi¬ dered^ were there no other proof of a future life, and interest, than that presumptive one which the foregoing observations aiHOunt to. Now, in the present state, all which we enjoy, and a great part of what we suffer, is put in our own power. For plea¬ sure and pain are the consequences of our actions ; and we are endued by the Author of our nature with capacities of foreseeing these consequences. We find, by experience, he does not so much as preserve our lives exclusively of our own care and attention to provide ourselves with, and to make CHAP. 11.] BY REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 55 use of, that sustenance, by which he has appointed our lives shall be preserved, and without which he has appointed they shall not be preserved at all. And in general we foresee, that the external things, which are the objects of our various pas¬ sions, can neither be obtained nor enjoyed, without exerting ourselves in such and such manners ; but by thus exerting ourselves, we obtain and enjoy, these objects, in which our natural good consists, or by this means God gives us the pos¬ session and enjoyment of them. I know not that we have any one kind or degree of enjoyment, but by the means of our own actions. And by prudence and care, we may, for the most part, pass our days in tolerable ease and quiet: or, on the contrary, we may, by rashness, ungoverned passion, wilfulness, or even by negligence, make ourselves as misera¬ ble as ever we please. And many do please to make them¬ selves extremely miserable, i. e. to do what they know be¬ forehand will render them so. They follow those ways, the fruit of which they know, by instruction, example, experi¬ ence, will be disgrace, and, poverty, and sickness, and untimely death. This every one observes to be the general course of things ; though it is to be allowed, we cannot find by experience, that all our sufferings are owing to our own follies. Why the Author of Nature does not give his creatures promiscuously such and such perceptions, without regard to their behaviour ; why he does not make them happy with¬ out the instrumentality of their own actions, and prevent their bringing any sufferings upon themselves, is another matter. Perhaps there may be some impossibilities in the nature of things, which we are unacquainted with Or less happiness, it may be, would, upon the whole, be produced by such a method of conduct, than is by the present: Or, perhaps, divine goodness, with which, if I mistake not, we make very free in our speculations, may not be a bare single disposition to produce happiness ; but a disposition to make the good, the faithful, the honest man, happy. Perhaps an infinitely perfect Mind may be pleased with seeing his crea¬ tures behave suitably to the nature which he has given them; to the relations which he has placed them in to each other ; and to that which they stand in to himself; that relation to himself, which, during their existence, is even necessary, and which is the most important one of all. Perhaps, I s-ay, an * Part i. chap. 7 56 OF THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD [PART I infinitely perfect Mind, may be pleased with this moral piety of moral agents, in and for itself, as well as upon account of its being essentially conducive to the happiness of his crea¬ tion. Or the whole end, for which God made, and thus go¬ verns the world, may be utterly beyond the reach of our fa=- Guides : There may be somewhat in it as impossible for us to have any conception of, as for a blind man to have a con¬ ception of colors. But however this be, it is certain matter of universal experience, that the general method of divine ad¬ ministration is, forewarning us, or giving us capacities to fore¬ see, with more or less clearness, that if we act so and so, wc shall have such enjoyments, if so and so, such sufferings; and giving us those enjoyments, and making us feel those suffer¬ ings, in consequence of our actions. ‘ But all this is to be ascribed to the general course of na¬ ture-.’ True. This is the very thing which 1 am observ¬ ing. It is to be ascribed to the general course of nature ; i. e. not surely to the words, or ideas, Course of nature^ but to him who appointed it, and put things into it; or to o course of operation, from its uniformitj^ or consistency, call¬ ed natural, and which necessarily implies an operating agent. For when men find thcniselves necessitated to con¬ fess an Author of Nature, or that God is the natural gove- nor of the world, they must not deny this again, because his government is uniform; they muist not deny that he does all things at all, because he does them constantlj^; be¬ cause the effects of his acting are peiTnanent, whether his acting be so or not; though there is no reason to think it is not. • In short, every man, in every thing he does, naturally acts upon the forethought and apprehension of avoiding evil, or obtaining good ; and if the natural course of things be the appointment of God, and our natural faculties of knowledge and experience are given us b}’- him, then the good and bad consequences which follow our actions are his appointment, and our foresight of those consequences is a warning given us by him, how„vve are to act. ‘Is the ])leasure, then, naturally accompanying ev^ry parti¬ cular gratification of passion, intended to put us upon gra¬ tifying ourselves in every such par'icular instance, and as a reward to us for so doing V No, certainly. Nor is it to bo said, that our eyes wmre .naturally intended to give us the eight of each particular object to wliich tliey do or can ox CHAP. II.] BY REVvAP.BS AND PUNISHMENTS. 51 tend; objects which are destructive of them, or which, for any other reason, it may become us to turn our eyes horn. Yet there is no doubt, but that our eyes were intended for us to see wit h. So neither is there any doubt, but that the foreseen pleasures and pains, belonging to the passions, were^ inten¬ ded, in general, to induce mankind to act in such and such manners. Now, from this general observation, obvious to every one, that God has given us to understand he has appointed satis¬ faction and delight to be the consequence of our acting in one manner, and pain and uneasiness of our acting in an¬ other, and of our not acting at all; and that we find the consequences, which we were beforehand informed of, uni¬ formly to follow ; we may learn, that we are at present ac¬ tually under his government, in the strictest and most pro¬ per sense ; in such a sense, as that he rewards and punish¬ es us for our actions. An Author of Nature being suppo¬ sed, it is not so much a deduction of reason as a matter of experience, that we are thus under his government: under his government, in the same sense as we are under the go¬ vernment of civil magistrates. Because the annexing plea¬ sure to some actions, and pain to others, in our power to do or forbear, and giving notice of this appointment beforehand to those whom it concerns, is the proper formal notion of go¬ vernment. Whether the pleasure or pain which thus fol¬ lows upon our behaviour, be owing to the Author of Na¬ ture’s acting upon us ever}" moment which we feel it, or to his having at once contrived and executed his own part in the plan of the world, makes no alteration as to the matter be¬ fore us. For, if civil magistrates could make the sanction of their laws take place, without interposing at all, aftei they had passed them ; without a trial, and the formalities of an execution : if they were able to make their laws exe cute them themselves or every offender to execute them upon himself, we should be just in the same sense un¬ der their government then, as we are now ; but in a much higher degree, and more perfect manner. Vain is the ridicule with which one foresees some persons will divert themselves, upon finding lesser pains considered as instances of divine punishment. There is no possibility of answering or evading the general thing here intended, with¬ out denying all final causes. For, final causes being admit¬ ted, the pleasures and pains now mentioned must he admitted too, as instances of them. And if they are ; if God annexe 3 * 58 OF THE GOVENRNMENT OF GOD [PART I. es delight to some actions and uneasiness to others, with an apparent design to induce us to act so and so, then he not only dispenses happiness and misery, but also rewards anti punishes actions. If, for example, the pain which we feel upon doing what tends to the destruction of our bodies, sup¬ pose upon too near approaches to foe, or upon wounding ourselves, be appointed by the Author of Nature to prevent our doing what thus tends to our destruction ; this is alto¬ gether as much an instance of his punishing our actions, and consequently of our being under his government, as de¬ claring, by a voice from heaven, that if we acted so, he would inflict such pain upon us, arid inflicting it whether it be greater or less. Thus we find, that the true notion or conception of the Author of Nature, is that of a master or governor, prior to the consideration of his moral attributes. The fact of our case, which we find by experience, is, that he actually ex¬ ercises dominion or government over us at present, by re¬ warding and punishing us for our actions, in as strict and proper a sense of these words, and even in the same sense as children, servants, subjects, are rewarded and punished by those who govern them. And thus the whole analogy of nature, the whole present course of things, most fully shows, that there is nothing in¬ credible in the general doctrine of religion, that God will re¬ ward and punish men for their actions hereafter ; nothing incredible, I mean, arising out of the notion of rewarding and punishing, for the whole course of nature is a present instance of his exercising that government over us, which implies in it rewarding and punishing. But, as divine punishment is what men chiefly object against, and are most unwilling to allow, it may be proper to mention some circumstances in the natural course of pun¬ ishments at present, which are analogous to what religion teaches us concerning a future state of punishment; indeed BO analogous, that as they add a further credibility to it, so they cannot but raise a most serious apprehension of it in those who will attend to them, CHAP. II.] BY REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 59 It has been now observed, that such and such miseries na¬ turally tollow such and such actions of imprudence and wil¬ fulness, as well as actions more commonly and more distinct¬ ly considered as vicious ; and that these consequences, when they may be foreseen, are properly natural punishments an¬ nexed to such actions. For the general thing here insisted upon is, not that we see a great deal of mieery in the world, but a great deal which men bring upon themselves by their own behaviour, which they might have foreseen and avoid¬ ed. Now, the circumstances of these natural punishments, particularly deserving our attention, are such as these; That oftentimes they follow, or are inflicted in consequence of ac¬ tions which procure many present advantages, and are ac¬ companied with much present pleasure ; for instance, sick¬ ness and untimely death is the consequence of intemperance, though accompanied with the highest mirth and jollity ‘ That these punishments are often much greater than the ad¬ vantages or pleasures obtained by the actions, of which they are the punishments or consequences : That though we may imagine a constitution of nature, in which these natural pun¬ ishments, which are in fact to follow, would follow immedi¬ ately upon such actions being done, or very soon after ; we find, on the contrary, m our world, that they are often delay¬ ed a great while, sometimes even till long after the actions occasioning them are forgot; so that the constitution of na¬ ture is such, that delay of punishment is no sort nor degree of presumption of final impunity: That, after such delay, these natural punishments or miseries often come, not by de¬ grees, but suddenly, with violence, and at once; however, the chief misery often does : That, as certainty of such dis¬ tant misery following such actions is never afforded persons, so, perhaps, during the actions, they have seldom a distinct full expectation of its following and many times the case is only thus, that they see in general, or may see, the credi¬ bility that intemperance, suppose, will bring after its diseases; civil crimes, civil punishments ; when yet the real probabili¬ ty often is, that they shall escape ; but things notwithstand¬ ing take their destined course, and the misery inevitable follows at its appointed time, in very many of these cases. • Thus, also, though youth may be alleged as an excuse for rashness and folly, as being naturally thoughtless, and not clearly foreseeing all the consequences of being untractable * See Part ii. chap. 6. 60 OF THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD [PART I. and profligate ; this does not hinder but that these conse¬ quences follow, and are grievously felt throughout the whole course of future life. Habits contracted, even in tiiat age, are often utter ruin; and men’s success in the world, not only in the common sense of worldly success, but their real happiness and misery depends, in a great degree, and in various ways, upon the manner in which they pass their youth ; which consequences they, for the most part, neglect to consider, and perhaps seldom can properly be said to believe beforehand. It requires also to be mentioned, that, in numberless cases, the natural course of things iilfords us opportunities for procuring advantages to ourselves at certain times, which we cannot procure when we will; nor even recall the opportunities, if we have neglected them. Indeed, the general course of nature is an example of this. If, dur¬ ing the opportunity of, youth, persons are indocile and self- wdled, they inevitably suffer in their future life, for want of those acquirements which they neglected the natural sea¬ son of attaining. If the husbandman lets his seed-time pass without sowing, the whole year is lost to him beyond recovery. In like manner, though after men have been guilty of folly and extravagance, up to a certain degree^ it is often in their power, for instance, to retrieve their affairs, to recover their health and character, at least in good measure, yet real reformation is, in many cases, of no avail at all to¬ wards preventing the miseries, poverty, sickness, infamy, na¬ turally annexed to folly and extravagance, exceeding that de¬ gree. There is a certain bound to imprudence and misbe¬ haviour, which being transgressed, there mmains no place for repentance in the natural course of things. It is fur¬ ther, very much to be remarked, that neglects from inconsi¬ derateness, want of attention,* not looking about us to see what we have to do, are often attended with consequences altogether as dreadful as any active misbehaviour, from the most extravagant passion. And, lastly, civil government being natural, the punishments of it are so too ; and some of these punishments are capital, as the effects of a disso¬ lute course of pleasure are often mortal. So that many natural punishments are final| to him who incurs them, if * Part ii. chap. 6. T The general consideration of a future state of punishment most evh dently belongs to the subject of natural religion. But if any of these re¬ flections should be thought to relate more particularly to this doctrine, as taught in scripture, the reader is desired to observe, that Gentile writers, CHAP. II.] BY REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 6l considered only in his temporal capacity ; and seem inflic¬ ted by natural appointment, either to remove the offender out of the way of being further mischievous, or as an ex ample, though frequently a disregarded one, to those who are left behind. These things are not what we call accidental, or to be met with only now and then ; but they are things of every day’s experience; they proceed from general laws, very general ones, by which God governs the world, in the na¬ tural course of his providence. And they are so analogous to what religion teaches us concerning the future punish¬ ment of the wicked, so much of apiece with it, that,both would naturally be expressed in the very same words and manner of description.' In the book of Proverbs,"''^ for in¬ stance, Wisdom is introduced as frequenting the most pub¬ lic places of resort, and as rejected when she offers herself as the natural appointed guide of human life. ‘ How long,’ speaking to those who are passing through it, ‘ how long, ye simple ones, will ye love folly, and the scorners delight in their scorning, and fools hate knowledge 1 Turn ye at my reproof Behold, I will pour out my spirit upon you, T will make known my words unto you.’ But upon being neg¬ lected, ‘ Because I have called, and ye refused, 1 have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded ; but ye have set at naught all ray counsel, and would none of my re¬ proof : I also will laugh, at your calamity, I will mock when your fear cometh ; when your fear cometh as deso¬ lation, and your destruction cometh as a whirlwind ; when both moralists and poets, speak of the future punishment of the wicked, both as to the duration and dej^ree of it, in a like manner of expressioix and of description as the Scripture does. So that all which can positively be asserted to be matter of mere revelation, with regard to this doctrine, seems to be, that the great distinction between the righteous and the wicked shall be made at the end of this world ; that each shall then receive according to his deserts. Reason did, as it well might, conclude, that It should, finally and upon the whole, be well with the righteous and ill with the wicked ; but it could riot be deternrined, upon any principles of reason, whether huriian creatrtres might not have been appointed to pass through other states of life and being, before that distributive justice should finally and effectually take place. Revelation teaches us, that the next state of things, alter Ihe present, is appointed for the exccutiorr of this justice; that it shall be rro longer delayed; but^/re mystery of God^ the great mystery of his suffering vice and confusion to prevail, shall then be finished ; and he will take to him his great power, and will reign, by tendering to every one according to his w^orks. * Chap. 1. @2 OF TilE GOVER!?MENT OF GOD [PARt I. distress and anguish cometh upon you. Then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer; they shall seek me early, but they shall not find me.’ This passage, every one sees, is poetical, and some parts of it are, highly figurative ; but their meaning is obvious. And the thing intended is ex ])ressed more literally in the following words; ‘ For that they hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the Lord ; therefore shall they eat the fruit of their own way, and be filled with their own devices. For the security of the simple shall slay them, and the prosperity of fools shall destroy them.’ And the whole passage is so equallj^ appli¬ cable to what we experience in the present world, concern¬ ing the consequences of men’s actions and to what reli¬ gion teaches us is to be expected in another, that it may be questioned which of the two was principally in¬ tended. Indeed, when one has been recollecting the proper proofs of a future state of rewards and punishments, nothing, me- thinks. can give one so sensible an apprehension of the lat¬ ter, or representation of it to the mind, as observing, that after the many disregarded checks, admonitions, and warn¬ ings, which people meet with in the ways of vice, and folly, and extravagance ; warnings from their very nature ; from the examples of others; from the lesser inconveniences which they bring upon themselves ; from the instructions of wise and virtuous men : after these have been long despised, scorned, ridiculed ; after the chief bad consequences, tem¬ poral consequences, of their follies, have been delayed for a great while ; at length they break in irresistibly, like an armed force ; repentance is too late to relieve, and can serve only to aggravate their distress : the case is become des¬ perate ; and poverty and sickness, remorse and anguish, in¬ famy and death, the effects of their own doings, overwhelm them, beyond possibility of remedy or escape. This is an account of w^hat is in fact the general constitution of na¬ ture It is not in any sort meant, that according to what ap¬ pears at present of the natural course of things, men are always uniformly punished in proportion to their misbe¬ haviour ; but that there are very many instances of misbe¬ haviour punished in the several ways now mentioned, and very dreadful instances too, sufficient to show what the laws of the universe may admit; and, if thoroughly considered, sufficient fully to answer all objections against the credibili CHAP. II.J BY REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. 63 ty of a future state of punishments, from any imaginations, that the frailty of our nature and external temptations al¬ most annihilate the guilt of human vices ; as well as objec¬ tions of another sort; from necessity * from suppositions that the will of an infinite Being cannot be contradicted ; or that he must be incapable of offence and. provocation.* Reflections of this kind are not without their terrors to serious persons, the most free from enthusiasm, and of the greatest strength of mind ; but it is fit things be stated and considered as they really are. And there is, in the present age, a certain fearlessness with regard to what may be hereafter under the government of God, which nothing but an universally acknowledged demonstration on the side of atheism can justify, and which makes it quite necessary that men be reminded, and, if possible, made to feel, that there is no sort of ground for being thus presumptuous, even upon the most sceptical principles. For, may it not be said of any person, upon his being born into the world, he miay behave so as to be of no service to it, but by being made an example of the woful effects of vice and folly; That he may, as any one may, if he will, incur an infamous execu¬ tion from the hands of civil justice ; or in some other course of extravagance shorten his days ; or bring upon himself infamy and diseases worse than death ? So that it had been better for him, even with regard to the present world, that he had never been born. And is there any pretence of reason for people to think themselves secure, and talk as if they had certain proof, that, let them act as licentiously as they will, there can be nothing analogous to this, with re¬ gard to a future and more general interest, under the pro\i« ience and government of the same God ? ♦ See Chap. 4 and 6i ot OF THE BIOEAL [part I CHAPTER HI. ^ 'j Of the JVIoral Government of God. } As the manifold appearances of design and of final cau [ ses, in the constitution of the world, prove it to be the work of an Intelligent Mind, so the particular final causes of f pleasure and pain, distributed amongst his creatures, prove [ that they are under his government; what may be called his natural government of creatures endued with sense and reason. This, however, implies somewhat more than seems usually attended to, when we speak of God’s natural gov¬ ernment of the v/orld. It implies government of the very same kind with that which a master exercises over his ser¬ vants, or a eivil magistrate over his subjects. These latter instances of final eauses as really prove an intelligent gov¬ ernor of the world, in the sense now mentioned, and before* distinctly treated of, as any other instances of final causes prove an intelligent JVIaker of it. But this alone does not appear, at first sight, to determine , any thing certainly, concerning the moral character of the ^ Author of nature, considered in this relation of governor ; does not ascertain his government to be moral, or prove that r he is the righteous Judge of the world. Moral government consists, not barely in rewarding and punishing men for their actions, which the most tyrannical person may do; but in reV/arding the righteous and punishing the wicked ; in rendering to men aceording to their actions, considered as ^good or evil. And the perfection of moral government con- / I sists in doing this, with regard to all intelligent creatures, Y I in an exact proportion to their personal merits or demerits. Some men seem to think the only character of the 7 (^Author of nature to be that of simple absolute benevolence. / This, considered as a principle of action, and infinite in d&. ! gree, is a disposition to produce the greatest possible happi- 6 * Cliap. 2. CHAP. Ill.j GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 65 ness, without regard to persons’ behaviour, otherwise than as such regard would produce higher degrees>of it. And sup- . posing this to be the only character of God, veracitj^ and justice in him would be nothing but benevolence conducted by wisdom. Now, surely this ought not to be asserted, un¬ less it can be proved ; for we should speak with cautious j reverence upon such a subject. And whether it can be ^ proved or no, is not the thing here to be inquired into ; but whether, in the constitution and conduct of the world, a righteous government be not discernibly planned out; which necessarily implies a righteous governor. There may pos¬ sibly be in the creation of beings, to whom the author of ■ nature manifests himself under this most amiable of all * characters, this of infinite absolute benevolence ; for it is the^' most amiable, supposing it not, as perhaps it is not, incom¬ patible with justice : but he manifests himself to us under the character of a righteous governor. He may, consist¬ ently with this, be simply and absolutely benevolent, in the sense now explained; but he has, for he has given us a \ , proof in the constitution and conduct of the world that he is, / / a governor over servants, as he rewards and punishes us for i our actions. And in the constitution and conduct of it, he may also have given, besides the reason of the thing, and the natural presages of conscience, clear and distinct inti¬ mations, that his government is righteous or moral: clear to such as think the nature of it deserving their attention ; and yet not to every careless person who casts a transient reflec¬ tion upon the subject.* But it is particularly to be observed, that the divine go-'^ vernment, which we experience ourselves under in the pre¬ sent state, taken alone, is allowed not to be the perfection of ) moral government. And yet this by no means hinders, but A ' that there may be somewhat, be it more or less, truly moral in it. A righteous government may plainly appear to be carried on to some degree ; enough to give us the apprehen¬ sion that it shall be completed, or carried on to that degree * The objections against religion, from the evidence of its not being universal, nor so strong as might possibly have been, may be urged, against natural religion, as well as against revealed. And, therefore, the consideration of them belongs to the first part of this Treatise, as well as the second. But as these objections are chiefly urged agamst revealed religion, I chose to consider them in the second part. And the answer to them there. Chap. 6, as urged against Christianity, being almost equally applicable to them as urged against the Religion of Nature, to avoid repe- the reader is referred to that chapter. 66 OF THE MORAL fPART L of perfection which religion teaches us it shall; but which cannot appear, till much more of the divine administration be seen, than can in the present life. And the design of this chapter is to inquire how far this is the case ; how far, over and above the moral nature"'^ which God has given us, and our natural notion of him, as righteous governor of those l is creatures to whom he has given this nature I saj liow. far, besides this, the principles and beginnings of moral government over the world may be discerned notwithstand¬ ing and amidst all the confusion and disorder of it. Now one might mention here, what has been often urged with great force, that, in general, less uneasiness, and more satisfaction, are the natural consequencesJ of a virtuous than a vicious course of life, in the present state as an instance of moral government established in nature ; an instance of it collected from experience and present mat¬ ter of fact. But It must be owned a thing of diffi^ culty to weigh and balance pleasures and uneasinesses, each among themselves, and also amongst each other, so as to make an estimate with a.n exactness, of the overplus of happiness on the side of virtue. And it is not impossible, that, amidst the infinite disorders of the world, there may be exceptions to the happiness of virtue, even with regard to those persons whose course of life, from their J youth up, has been blameless ; and more with regard to those, who have gone on for some time in the ways of vice, and have afterwards reformed. For suppose an instance of the latter case ; a person with his passions inflamed, his na¬ tural faculty of self-government impaired by habits of in¬ dulgence, and with all his vices about him, like so many harpic-rs, craving for their accustomed gratification: who can say how long it might be before such a person would find more satisfaction in the reasonableness and present good consequences of virtue, than difficulties and self-denial in the restraints of it ? .Experience also shows, that men can, to a great degree, get over their sense of shame, so as that by professing themselves to be without principle, and avow ing even direct villany, they can support themselves against the infamy of it. But as the ill actions of any one will pro^ bably be more talked of, and oftener thrown in his way, upon his reformation ; so the infamy of them will be much more felt, after the natural sense of-virtue and of honor is reco- * Dissertation 2. t Chap. 6. t See Lord Shaftesbury’s Inquiry concerning Virtue. Part 2. CHAP. HI.] GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 67 vered. Uneasinesses of this kind ought indeed to be put to the account of former vices ; yet it will be said, they are in part the consequences of reformation. Still I am far from allowing it doubtful, whether virtue, upon the whole, be hap¬ pier than vice in the present world ; but if it were, yet the be¬ ginnings of a righteous administration may, beyond all ques¬ tion, be found in nature, if we will attentively inquire after them. And, I. In whatever manner the notion of God’s moral govern¬ ment over the world might be treated, if it did not appear whether he were, in a proper sense, our governor at all; yet when it is certain matter of experience, that he does mani¬ fest himself to us under the character of a governor, in the sense explained,* it must deserve to be considered, whether there be not reason to apprehend, that he maybe a righteous or moral governor. Since it appears to be fact, that God does govern mankind by the method of rewards and punishments, according to some settled rulers of distribution, it is surely a question to be asked. What ' presumption, is there against his finally rewarding and punishing them according to this particlar rule, namely, as they act reasonably or unreasonably, virtuously or viciously % > since rendering man happy or miserable by this rule, certain¬ ly falls in, much more falls in, with our natural apprehen¬ sions and sense of things, than doing so by any other rule, whatever ; since rewarding and punishing actions by any other rule, would appear much harder to be accounted for by minds formed as he has formed ours. Be the evidence of reli- \ giori, then, more or less clear, the expectation which it raises in us, that the righteous shall upon the whole, be happy, and the wicked miserable, cannot, however, possibly be consi¬ dered as absurd or chimerical; because it is no more than an ^ expectation, that a method of government, already begun, I shall be carried on, the method of rewarding and punishing actions ; and shall be carried on by a particular rule, which unavoidably appears to us, at first sight, more natural than any other, the rule which we call distributive justice. Nor, II. Ought it to be entirely passed over, that tranquillity,■>, satisfaction, and external advantages, being the natural con- 1 sequences of prudent management of ourselves and our affairs; and rashness, profligate negligence, and wilful folly, bringing after them many inconveniencies and suffer¬ ings ; these afford instances of a right constitution of na- * Chap. 3 68 OF THE MORAL [part I. f ture ; as the correction of children, for their oi\’n sakes and by the way of example, when they run into danger or hurt themselves, is a part of right education. And thus, that God governs the world by general fixed laws ; that he has endued us with capacities of reflecting upon this constitu¬ tion of things, and forseeing the good and bad consequences of OLii behaviour, plainly implies some sort of moral govern* rr ent: since from such a constitution of things it cannot but follow, that prudence and imprudence, which are of the na¬ ture of virtue and vice,* must be, as they are, respectively rewarded and punished. iir. From the natural course of things, vicious actions are, to a-great degree, actually punished as mischievous to society ; and besides punishment actually inflicted upon this account, there is also the fear and apprehension of it in those persons whose crimes have rendered them obnoxious to it L in case of a discovery; this state of fear being itself often a very considerable punishmelit. The natural fear and appre¬ hension of it too, which restrains from such crimes, is a dc- \^claration of nature against them. It is necessary to the [very being of society, that vices destructive of it should be [ punished as being so ; the vices of falsehood, injustice, cruel¬ ty ; which punishment, therefore, is as natural as society, and so is an instance of a kind of moral government, naturally established, and actually taking place. And, since the certain natural course of things is the con¬ duct of Providence or the government of God, though I carried on by the instrumentality of men, the observa- ! tion here made amounts to this, that mankind find them- selves placed by him in such circumstances, as that they are unavoidably accountable for their behaviour, and are often punished, and sometimes rewarded, under his go¬ vernment, in the view of their being mischievous or eminent¬ ly beneficial to society. If it be objected that good actions, and such as are bene¬ ficial to society, are often punished, as in the case of perse¬ cution, and in other cases, and that ill and mischievous ac¬ tions are often rewarded | it may be answered distinctly, first, that this is in no sort necessary, and consequently not natural in the sense in which it is necessary, and therefore natural, that ill or mischievous actions should be punished ; | and, in the next place, that good actions are never punished, ^ considered as beneficial to society, nor ill actions rewarded * See Dissertation 2. CHAP. III.] GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 69 / t^l I V a. under the view of their being hurtful to it. So that it stands good, without any thing on the side of vice to be set over against it, that the A uthor of nature has as truly di¬ rected that vicious actions, considered as mischievous to so¬ ciety, should be punished, and put mankind under a neces¬ sity of thus punishing them, as he has directed and neces¬ sitated us to preserve our lives by food. IV. In the natural course of things, virtue, as such^ is actually rewarded, and vice, as such^ punished ; which seems to afford an instance, or example, not only of govern¬ ment, but of moral government begun and established ; moral in the strictest sense, though not in that perfection of degree which religion teaches us to expect. In order to see this more clearly, we must distinguish between actions them¬ selves, and that quality ascribed to them, which we call vir¬ tuous or vicious. The gratification itself of every natural passion must be attended with delight; and acquisitions of fortune, however made, are acquisitions of the rrieans or materials of enjoyment. An action, then, by which any natural passion is gratified, or fortune acquired, procures de¬ light or advantage, abstracted from all consideration of the morality of such action. Consequently, the plet'sure or ad¬ vantage in this case is gained by the action itself, not by the morality, the virtuousiiess or viciousness of it, though it be, perhaps, virtuous or vicious. Thus, to say such an action, or course of behaviour, procured such pleasure or advantage, or brought on such inconvenience and pain, is quite a differ¬ ent thing from saying, that such good or bad effect was ow ing to the virtue or vice of such an action or behaviour. In one case an action, abstracted from all moral considera¬ tion, produced its effect; in the other case, for it will appear that there are such cases, the morality of the action, the action under a moral consideration, i. e. the virtuousness or viciousness of it, produced the effect. Now I say, virtue, as such, naturally procures considerable advantages to the virtuous, and vice, as such, naturally occasions grea,t incon- \ enience, and even misery to the vicious, in very many in¬ stances. The immediate effects of virtue and vice upon the mind and temper are to be mentioned as instances of it. Vice, as such, is^'naturally attended with some sort of uneasiness, and not uncommonly with great disturbance and apprehension. That inward feeling which respecting lesser matters and in familiar speech, we call being vexed with one’s self, and in matters of importance, and in more OF THE MORAL 10 [part I. serious language, remorse, is an uneasiness naturally arising from an action of man’s own, reflected upon by himself as wrong, unreasonable, faulty, i. e. vicious in greater or less degrees ; and this manifestly is a different feeling from that uneasiness which arises from a sense of mere loss or harm. What is more common than lo hear a man lamenting an accident or event, and adding,—But, however, he has the satisfaction that he cannot blame himself for it; or, on the contrary, that he has the uneasiness of being sensible it was his own doing ? Thus also, the disturbance and fear which often follow upon a man’s having done an injury, arise from a sense of his being blame-worthy ; otherwise there would, in many cases, be no ground of disturbance nor any reason ' to fear resentment or sharhe. On the other hand, inward security and peace, and a mind open to the several gratifi¬ cations of life, are the natural attendants of innocence and virtue ; to which must be added, the complacency, satisfac¬ tion, and even joy of heart, which accompany the exercise, the real exercise, of gratitude, friendship, benevolence. And here, I think, ought to be mentioned, the fears of future punishment, and peaceful hopes of a better life, in those who’fully believe or have any serious apprehension of religion ; because these hopes and fears are present uneasi¬ ness and satisfaction to the mind, and cannot be got rid'of by great part of the world, even by men who have thought most thoroughly upon that subject of religion. And no one can say how considerable this uneasiness and sa¬ tisfaction may be, or what, upon the whole, it may amount to. • In the next place comes in the consideration, that all honest and good men are disposed to befriend honest good men,^ as such, and to discountenance the vicious, as such, and do so in some degree, indeed in a considerable degree ; from which favor and discouragement cannot but arise \ considerable advantage and inconvenience. And though the generality of the world have little regard to the morality of their own action's, and may be supposed to have less to that of others, when they themselves are not concerned ; yet, let any one be known to be a 'man of virtue, somehow or other he will be favored, and gOod offices will be done him from regard to his character, without remote views, occa¬ sionally, and in some low degree, I think, by the generali¬ ty of the world, as it happens to come in their way. Public honors, too, and advantages, are the natural consequencesj CHAP. III.J GOVERNMENT OF GOD. ^1 are sometimes at least the consequences in fact, of virtuous actions, of eminent justice, fidelity, charity, love to our coun¬ try, considered in the view of being virtuous. And some times even death itself, often infamy and external inconven¬ iences, are the public consequences of vice, as vice. For”A instance, the sense which mankind have of tyranny, injus- I tice, oppression, additional to the mere feeling or fear of mis- i ery, has doubtless been instrumental in bringing about \ revolutions, which make a figure even in the history of th e_^J world. For it is plain men resent injuries as implying fauK tiness, and retaliate, not merely under the notion of having received harm, but of having received wrong; and they have this resentment in behalf of others, as well as of them- ; selves. So, likewise, even the generality are, in some de-"^ gree, grateful and disposed to return good offices, not mere¬ ly because such a one has been the occasion of good to them, but under the view that such good offices implied kind intention and good desert in the doer. To all this may be added two or three particular things, which many per¬ sons will think frivolous ; but to me nothing appears so, which at all comes in towards determining a question of such importance, as whether there be or be not a moral institu¬ tion of government, in the strictest sense moral, visibly es¬ tablished and begun in nature. The particular things are these : That in domestic government, which is doubtless natural, children, and others also, are very generally punish¬ ed for falsehood, and injustice, and ill-behaviour, as such, and rewarded for the contrary ; which are instances where vera¬ city, and justice, and right behaviour, as such, are naturally enforced by rewards and punishments, whether more or less considerable in degree : that though civil government be\ supposed to take cognizance of actions in no other view ' than as prejudicial to society, without respect to the mo¬ rality of them, yet as such actions are immoral, so the sense which men have of the immorality of them very great¬ ly contributes, in different ways, to bring offenders to justice; and that entire absence of all crime and guilt, in the moral sense, when plainly appearing, will almost of course procure, and circumstances of aggravated guilt prevent, a remission of the penalties annexed to civil crimes, in, many cases, though by no means in all. Upon the whole, then, besides the good and bad effects of virtue and vice upon men’s own minds, the course of the world does, in some measure, turn upon the approbation and 3 / 0 y 72 OF THE MORAL [part I. L i/ r disapprobalion of them, as such, in others. The sense of well and ill doing, the presages of conscience, the love of good characters and dislike of had ones, honor, shame, re* sentment, gratitude ; all these, considered in themselves, and in their effects, do afford manifest real instances of vir* tue, as such, naturally favored, and of vice, as such, dis* countenanced, more or less, in the daily course of human ife ; in every age, in every relation, in every general cir¬ cumstance of it. That God has given us a moral nature,'^ may most justly be urged as a proof of our being under his moral government; but that he has placed us in a condition, which gives this nature, as one may speak, scope to operate, and in which it does unavoidably operate, i. e. influence mankind to act, so as thus to favor and reward virtue, and discountenance and punish vice ; this is not the same, but a further additional proof of his moral government; for it is an instance of it. The first is a proof that he will finally favor and support virtue effectually; the second is an ex¬ ample of his favoring and supporting it at present, in some degree. If a more distinct inquiry be made, when it arises, that virtue, as such, is often rewarded, and vice, as such is pun ished, and this rule never inverted ; it will be found to pro¬ ceed, in part, immediately from the moral nature itself which God has given us ; and also, in part, from his having given us, together with this nature, so great a power over each other’s happiness and misery. For, Jirst, it is certain, that peace and delight, in some degree and upon some occasions, is the necessary and present effect of virtuous practice ; an effect arising immediately from that constitution of our na¬ ture. We are so made, that well-doing, as such, gives us satisfaction, at least in some instances ; ill-doing, as such, in none. And, secondly^ from our moral nature, joined with God’s having put our happiness and misery, in many respects, m each other’s power, it cannot but be that vice, as such, some kinds and instances of it at least, will be infamous, and men will be disposed to punish it as in itself detestable ; and the villain will by no means be able always to avoid feeling that infamy, any more than he will be able to escape this further punishment which mankind will be disposed to in¬ flict upon him, under the notion of his deserving it. But there can be nothing on the side of vice to answer this j * See .Dissertation 2. CHAP. III.] GOVERNMENT OF GOD. *J3 because there is nothing in the human mind contradictory, as the logicians speak, to virtue. For virtue consists in a regard to what is right and reasonable, as being so ; in a regard to veracity, justice, charity, in themselves : and there is surely no such thing as a like natural regard to false- nood, injustice, cruelty. If it be thought, that there are in¬ stances of an approbation of vice, as such, in itself, and for its own sake, (though it does not appear to me that there is any such thing at all ; but, supposing there be,) it is evi¬ dently monstrous ; as much so as the most acknowledged perversion of any passion whatever. Such instances ol perversion, then, being left out as merely imaginary, or, how¬ ever, unnatural ;|it must follow, from the frame of our nature,'X and,hoiTi our condition, in the respects now described, that vice cannot at all be, and virtue cannot but be, favored, as such, by others, upon some occasions ; and happy in itself, J in some degree. ^ For what is here insisted upon, is not in the degree in which virtue and vice are thus distinguished. but only the thing itself, that they are so in some degree ; though the whole good and bad effect of virtue and vice, as such, is not inconsiderable in degree, f But that they must be thus distinguished, in some degree, is in a manner neces- of daily experience, even in the f sary ; it is matter of fact, greatest confusion of human affairs. It is not pretended but that, in‘the natural course of things, happiness and misery appear to be distributed by other rules^ than only the personal merit and demerit of characters. fThey may sometimes be distributed by way of mere discipline, y There mciy be the wisest and best rea¬ sons why the world should bo governed by general laws, from whence such promiscuous distribution perhaps must follow ; and also why our happiness and misery should bo put in each other’s power, in the degree which they are. And these things, as in general they contribute to the re¬ warding virtue and punishing vice, as such ; '‘^so they often contribute also, not to the inversion of this, which is impos¬ sible, but to the rendering persons prosperous though wick¬ ed, afflicted though righteous ; and, which is worse, to the rewarding some actions^ though vicious, and punishing other I actions, though virtuous. VBut all this cannot drown the i . voice of nature in the conduct of Providence plainly declar- j ^ / ing itself for virtue, by way of distinction from vice, and! preference to it JlFor, our being so constituted as that virtue i | r, and vice are trlus na turally favored and discountenanced^ / ^ o 4 If 74 OF THE MORAL [part I, S -j rewarded and punished respectively as such, is an intuitive proof of the intent of nature that it should be so ;|otherwise the constitution of our mind, from which it thus immediately and directly proceeds, would be absurd. j^But it cannot be said, because virtuous actions are sometimes punished, and vicious actions rewarded, that nature intended it^ /Bor, though this great disorder is brought about, as all actions are done, by means of some natural passion, yet this may be^ as it undoubtedly is, brought about by the perversion of such passion, implanted in us for other, and those very good pur¬ poses. 1 nd indeed these other and good purposes, even of every passion, may be clearly seen. /We have then a declaration, in some degree of present effect, from him who is supreme in nature, which side he is of or what part he takes; a dedaration for virtue, and against vice.)/So far, therefore, as a man is true to virtue, to veracity and justice, to equity and charity, and the right of the case, in whatever he is concerned, so far he is on the side of the divine adrhinistration, and cooperates with it and from hence, to such a man, arises naturally a secret satisfac¬ tion and sense of security, and implicit hope of somewhat further, j And, > V. Tkis hope is confirmed by the necessary tendencies Of virtue, which, though not of present effect, yet are at present discernible in nature; and so afford an instance of some¬ what moral in the essential constitution of it. There is, in the nature of things, a tendency in virtue and vice to pro¬ duce the good and bad effects now mentioned, in a greater degree than they do in fact produce them. For instance, good and bad men would be much more rewarded and pun¬ ished as such, were it not that justice is often artificially eluded, that characters are not known, and many who would thus favor virtue and discourage vice, are hindered from doing so by accidental causes. These tendencies of virtue and vice are obvious with regard to individuals. But it may require more particularly to be considered, that power in a society^ by being under the direction of virtue, naturally increases, and has. a necessary tendency to prevail over op¬ posite power, not under the direction of it; in like maimer as power, by being under the direction of reason, increases, and has a tende;icy to prevail over brute force. There are several brute creatures of equal, and several of superior strength, to that of men ; and possibly the sum of the whole strength of brutes may be greater than that of mankind ; CHAP. HI.] GOVERNMENT OF GOD. ^5 but reason gives ns the advantage and superiority over them, and thus man is the acknowledged governing animal upon the earth. Nor is this superiority considered by any as accidental; but as what reason has a tendency, in the na¬ ture of the thing, to obtain. And yet, perhaps, difficulties may be raised about the meaning, as well as the truth of the assertion, that virtue has the like tendency. To obviate these difficulties, let us see more distinctly how the case stands with regard to reason, which is so readily acknowledged to have this advantageous tendency. Suppose, then, two or three men, of the best and most im¬ proved understanding, in a desolate open plain, attacked by ten times the number of beasts of prey ; would their reason secure them the victory in this unequal combat? Power, then, though joined with reason, and under its direction, cannot be expected to prevail over opposite power, though merely brutal, unless the one bears some proportion to the other. Again, put the imaginary case, that rational and irrational creatures were of like external shape and man¬ ner ; it is certain, before there were opportunities for the first to distinguish each other, to separate from their adversaries, and to form a union among themselves, they might be upon a level, or, in several respects, upon great disadvantage, though, united, they might be vastly superior ; since union is of such efficacy, that ten men, united, might be able to accomplish what ten thousand of the same natural strength and understanding, wffiolly ununited, could not. In this case, then, brute force might more than maintain its ground against reason, for want of union among the rational crea¬ tures. Or suppose a number of men to land upon an island inhabited only by wild beasts ; a number of men, who, by the regulations of civil government, the inventions of art, and the experience of some years, could they be preserved so long, would be really sufficient to subdue the wild beasts, and to preserve themselves in security from them; yet a conjecture of accidents might give such advantage to the ^rational animals as that they might at once overpower, and even extirpate, the whole species of rational ones. Length of time, then, proper scope and opportunities for rea¬ son to exert itself, may be absolutely necessary to its pre- vailinsr over brute force. Further still; there are many in- stances of brutes succeeding in attempts which they could not have undertaken, had not their irrational nature render¬ ed them incapable of forseeing the danger of such attempts, OF THE MORAL [part I. 7G or the fury of passion hindered their attending to it; and there are instances of reason, and real prudence preventing men’s undertaking what, it hath appeared afterwards, they might have succeeded in by a lucky rashness. And in certain conjunctures, ignorance and follj^, weakness and discord, may have their advantages. So that rational animals have not necessarily the superiority over irrational ones; but, how improbable soever it may be, it is evidently possible, that, in some globes, the latter may be superior. And wore the former wholly at variance and disunited, by false self-in terest and envy, by treachery and injustice, and consequent rage and malice against each other, whilst the latter were firmly united among themselves by instinct, this might greatly contribute to the introducing such an inverted order of things. For every one would consider it as inverted ; since reason has, in the nature of it, a tendency to prevail over brute force, notwithstanding the possibility it may not prevail, and the necessity which there is of many concur¬ ring circumstances to render it prevalent. Now, I say, virtue in a society has a like tendency to procure superiority and additional power, whether this power be considered as the means of security from opposite power, or of obtaining other advantages. And it has this tenden¬ cy, by rendering public good an object and end to every member of the society ; by putting every one upon consi¬ deration and diligence, recollection and self-government, both in order to see what is the most effectual method, and also in order to perform their proper part, for obtaining and preserving it; by uniting a society within itself, and so in¬ creasing its strength, and, which is particularly to be men¬ tioned, uniting it by means of veracity and justice. For as these last are principal bonds of union, so benevolence, or public spirit, undirected, unrestrained by them, is-—nobody knows what. And suppose the invisible world, and the invisible dispen¬ sations of Providence, to be in any sort analogous to what appears; or, that both together make up one uniform scheme, the two parts of which, the part which we see, and that which is beyond our observation, are analogous to each other ; then, there must be a like natural tendency in the derived power, throughout the universe, under the direc¬ tion of virtue, to prevail in general over that which is not under its direction ; as there is in reason, derived reason in the universe, to prevail over brute force. But then, in order CHAP. III. GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 11 to the prevaler?ce of virtue, or that it may actually produce what it has a tendency to produce, the like concurrences are necessary as are to the prevalence of reason. There must be some proportion between the natural power or force which is, and that which is not, under the direction of vir¬ tue * There must be sufficient length of time ; for the com¬ plete success of virtue, as of reason, cannot from the nature of the thing, be otherwise than gradual: there must be, as one may speak, a fair field of trial, a stage large and exten¬ sive enough, proper occasions and opportunities for the vir¬ tuous to join together, to exert themselves against lawless force, and to reap the fruit of their united labours. Now indeed it is to be hoped, that the disproportion between the good and the bad, even here on earth, is not so great, but that the former have natural power sufficient to their pro vailing to a considerable degree, if circumstances would permit this power to be united. For, much less, very much less power, under the direction of virtue, wmuld prevail over much greater, not under the direction of it. However, good men over the face of the earth cannot unite ; as for other reasons, so because they cannot be sufficiently ascertained of each other’s characters. And the knowui course of hu¬ man things, the scene we are now passing through, parti¬ cularly the shortness of life, denies to virtue its full scope in several other respects. The natural tendency which we have been considering, though real, is hindered from be¬ ing carried into effect in the present state, but these hindran¬ ces may be removed in a future one. Virtue, to borrow the Christian allusion, is militant .here, and various untoward accidents contribute to its being often overborne ; but it may combat with greater advantage hereafter, and prevail com¬ pletely and enjoy its consequent rewards, in some future states. Neglected as it is, perhaps unknown, perhaps des¬ pised and oppressed here, there may be scenes in eternity, lasting enough, and in every other way adapted, to afford it a sufficient sphere of action, and a sufficient sphere for the natural consequences of it to follow in fact. If the soul be naturally immortal, and this state to be a progress towards a future one, as childhood is towards mature age, good men may naturally unite, not only amongst themselves, but also with other orders of virtuous creatures, in that future state. For virtue, from the very nature of it, is a principal and bond of union, in some degree, amongst all who are endued with it| and known to each other; so as that by it a 78 OF THE MORAL [part I good man cannot but recommend himself to the favor and protection of all virtuous beings, throughout the whole uni¬ verse, who can be acquainted with his character, and can any way interpose in his behalf in any part of his duration. And one might add, that suppose all this advantageous ten¬ dency of virtue to become etfect amongst one or more orders of creatures, in any distant scenes and periods, and to be seen by any orders of vicious creatures, throughout the universal kingdom of God; this happy effect of virtue would have a tendency, by way of example, and possibly in other ways, to amend those of theili who are capable of amendment, and being recovered to a just sense ofvirtue. If our notions of the plan of Providence were enlarged, in any sort pro¬ portionable to what late discoveries have enlarged our views with respect to the material world, representations of this kind would not appear absurd or extravagant. However, they are not to be taken as intended for a literal deline ation of wdiat is in fact the particular scheme of the uni¬ verse, which cannot be known without revelation ; for sup¬ positions are not to be looked on as true, because not incre¬ dible, but they/ are mentioned to show, that our finding’ virtue to be hindered from procuring to itself such superiority and advantages, is no objection against'ks having in the essential nature of the thing, a tendency to procure them. And the suppositions now mentioned do plainly show this ; for they show, that these hindrances are so far from being necessary, that we ourselves can easily conceive how they may be removed in future states, and full scope be granted to virtue. And all these advantageous tendencies of it are to be considered as declarations of God in its favor. ' This, however, is taking a pretty large compass; though it'is certain, that as the material world appears to be, in a man¬ ner, boundless and immense, there must be some scheme of Providence vast in proportion to it. But let us return to the earth, our habitation, and wn shall see this happy tendency of virtue, by imagining an instance not so vast and remote ; bj?- supposing a kingdom, or society of men, upon it, perfectly virtuous, for a succession of many ages ; to which, if you please, may be given a sit¬ uation advantageous to universal monarchy. In such a state there would be_no such thing as faction, but men of the greatest capacity would, of course, all along, have the chief direction of affairs willingly yielded to them, and they would share it among themselves without envy. Each of CHAP. III.] GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 79 these would have the part assigned him to which his gen¬ ius was peculiarly adapted ; and others, who had not any distinguished genius, would be safe, and think themselves very happy, by being under the protection and guidance of those who had, Public determinations would really be the result of the united wisdom of the community, and they would faithfully be executed by the .united strength of it. Some would in a higher way contribute, but all would in some way contribute to the public prosperity, and in it each would enjoy the fruits of his own virtue. And as injustice, whether by haud or force, would be unknown among them¬ selves, so they would be sufficiently secured from it in their neighbors. For cunning and false self-interest, confedera- " cies in injustice, ever slight and accompanied with faction and intestine treachery ; these, on one hand, would be found mere childish folly and weakness, when set in opposition against wisdom, public spirit, union inviolable, and fidelity on the other, allowing both a sufficient length of years to try their force. Add the general influence which such a kingdom would have over the face of the earth, by way of example particularly, and the reverence which would be paid it. It would plainly be superior to all others, and the world must gradually come under its empire ; not by means of lawless violence, but partly by what must be allowed to be just conquest, and partly by other kingdoms submitting themselves voluntarily to it throughout a course of ages, and claiming its protection, one after another, in successive exigencies. The head of it would be a universal monarch, in another sense than any mortal has yet been, and the eas¬ tern style would be literally applicable to him, that all peo¬ ple^ nations, and languages should serve him. And though indeed our knowledge of human nature, and the whole his¬ tory of mankind, show the impossibility, without some mi¬ raculous interposition, that a number of men here on earth shall unite in one society or government, in the fear of God and universal practice of virtue, and that such a govern¬ ment should continue so united for a succession of ages; yet, admitting or supposing this, the effect would be as now drawn out. And thus, for instance, the wonderful power and prosperity promised to the Jewish nation in the Scrip¬ ture, would be, in a great measure, the consequence of what is predicatea of them ; that the ‘ people should be all righteous and inherit the land forever were we to under- ♦ Isa, Ix, 21. t 80 OF THE MORAL )PART I stand the latter phrase of a long continuance only, sufficieni to give things time to work. The predictions of this kind, for- there are many of them, cannot come to pass in the present known-course of nature ; but suppose them come to pass, and then the dominion and pre-eminence promised must naturally follow, to a very considerable degree. Consider, now, the general system of religion ; that the government of the world is uniform, and one, and moral; that virtue and right shall finally have the advantage, and prevail over fraud and lawless force, over the deceits as well as the violence of wickedness, under the conduct of one su¬ preme Governor ; and from the observations above made it will appear, that God has, by our reason, given us to see a peculiar connexion in the several parts of this scheme, and a tendency towards the completion of it, arising out of the very nature of virtue; which tendency is to be considered as somewhat moral in the essential constitution of things If any one should think all this to be of little importance, I desire him to consider what he would think, if vice had, es sentially and in its nature, these advantageous tendencies^ or if virtue had essentially the direct contrary ones. But it maybe objected, that notwithstanding all these natural effects, and these natural tendencies of virtue, yet things may be noAv going on throughout the universe, and may go on hereafter, in the same mixed way as here at present upon earth ; virtue sometimes prosperous, some¬ times depressed : vice sometimes, punished, sometimes suc¬ cessful. The answer to which is, that it is not the purpose of this chapter, nor of this treatise, properly to prove God^s perfect moral government over the world, or the truth of re¬ ligion, but to observe what there is in the constitution and course of nature to confirm the proper proof of it, supposed to be known, and that the weight of the foregoing observa¬ tions to this purpose may be thus distinctly proved. Pleas¬ ure and pain are indeed, to a certain degree, say to a very high degree, distributed amongst us, without any apparent regard to the merit or demerit of characters. And were there nothing else, concerning this matter, discernible in the constitution and course of nature, there would be no ground, from the constitution and course of nature, to hope or to fear, that men would be rewarded or punished hereafter ac¬ cording to their deserts ; which, however, it is to be remark¬ ed, implies, that even then there would be no ground, from appearances, to think that vice, upon the whole, would have CHAP. Ill.j GOVEP.,NMENT OE GOD. 81 the advantage, rather than that virtue would. And thus the proof of a future state of retribution would rest upon the usual known arguments for it; which are, I think, plainly unanswerable, and would be so, though there were no addi tional confirmation of them from the things above insisted on. But these things are a very strong confirmation of them: For, First, they show that the Author of nature is not indiffer ent to virtue and vice. They amount to a declaration from him, determinate, and not to be evaded, in favor of one, and against the other ; such a declaration as there is nothing to be set over against, or answer, on the part of vice. So that were a man, laying aside the proper proof of religion, to determine from the course of nature only, whether it were most probable that the righteous or the wicked would have the advantage in a future life, there can be no. doubt but that he would determine the probability to be, that the for¬ mer would. The course of nature, then, in the view of it now given, furnishes us with a real practical proof of the obligations of religion. Secondly, When, conformably to what religion teaches us, God shall reward and punish virtue and vice, as such, so as that every one shall, upon the whole, have his deserts, tfiis distributive justice will not be a thing different in kind, but only in degree, from what we experience in his present gov¬ ernment. It will be that in effect, toward which we now see a tendency. It will be no more than the completion of that moral government, the principles and beginning of which have been shown, beyond all dispute, discernible in the present constitution and course of nature. And from hence it follows. Thirdly, That as, under the natural government of God, our experience of those kinds and degrees of happiness and misery, which we do experience at present, gives just ground to hope for and to fear higher degrees and other kinds of both in a future state, supposing a future state admitted ; so, under his moral government, our experience that virtue and vice are, in the manners above-mentioned, actually reward¬ ed and punished at present, in a certain degree, gives just ground to hope and to fear that they may be rewarded and punished in a higher degree hereafter. It is acknowledged, indeed, that this alone is not sufficient ground to think, that they actually will be rewarded and punished in a higher de¬ gree, rather than in a lower : But then, 82 OF THE MORAL [part I. Lastly^ There is sufficient ground to think so, from the good and bad tendencies of virtue and vice. For these ten¬ dencies are essential, and founded in the nature of things j whereas the hindrances, to their becoming effects are, in numberless-cases, not necessary, but artificial only. Now, it may be much more strongly urged, that these tendencies, as well as the actual rewards and punishments of virtue and vice, which arise directly out of the nature of things, will remain hereafter, than that the accidental hinderances of them will. And if these hinderances do not remain, those rewards and punishments cannot but be carried on much further towards the perfection of moral government, i. e. the tendency of virtue and vice will become effect; but when, or where, or in what particular way, cannot be known at all but by revelation. ■ Upon the whole, there is a kind of moral government im- plied in God’s natural government; virtue and vice are naturally rewarded and punished as beneficial and mis¬ chievous to society, and rewarded and punished directly as virtue and vice. The notion, then, of a moral scheme of government, is not fictitious, but natural; for it is suggested to our thoughts by the constitution and course of nature, and the execution of this scheme is actually begun, in the instances here mentioned. And these things are to be con¬ sidered as a declaration of the Author of nature,'for virtue, and against vice ; they give a .credibility to the supposition of their being rewarded and punished hereafter, and also ground to hope and to fear, that they may be rewarded and punished in higher degrees than they are here. And as all this is confirmed, so the argument for religion, from the con¬ stitution and course of nature, is carried on farther, by observ¬ ing, that there are natural tendencies, and, in innumerable cases, only artificial hindrances, to tliis moral scheme being carried on much farther towards perfection than it is at pre¬ sent. The notion, then, of a moral scheme of govern¬ ment, much more perfect than what is seen, is not a ficti¬ tious, but a natural notion, for it is suggested to our thoughts by ihe essential tendencies of virtue and vice. And these tendencies are to ■’be considered as intimations, as implicit promises and threatenings, from the Author of nature, of much greater rewards and punishments to follow virtue and CHAP. III.] GOVERNMENT OF GOD. 83 vice, than do at present. And, indeed, every natural ten¬ dency, which is to continue, but which is hindered from be¬ coming effect by only accidental causes, affords a presump¬ tion, that such tendency will, some time or other, become effect: a presumption in degree proportionable to the length of the duration through which such tendency will continue. And from these things together arises a real presumption, that the moral scheme of government established in nature, shall be carried on much farther towards perfection here¬ after, and, I think, a presumption that it will be absolutely completed. But from these things, joined with the moral nature which^God has given us, considered as given us by him, arises a practical proofs that it will be completed ; a proof from fact, and therefore a distinct one from that which is deduced from the eternal and unalterable relations, the fitness and unfitness of actions. ♦ See this proof drawn but briefiyi chap. 6. * » - • . * ‘ \ J CHAPTER 1V. Of a State of Probation^ as implying Trial, Difficulties, and Danger. The general doctrine of religion, that our present life is a state of probation for a future one, comprehends under it several particular things, distinct from each other. But the first and most common meaning of it seems to be, that our future interest is now depending, and depending upon ourselves ; that we have scope and opportunities here foi that good and bad behaviour, which God will reward and punish hereafter ; together with temptations to one, as well as inducements of reason to the other. And this is, in great measure, the same with saying, that we are under the moral government of God, and to give an account of our actions to him. For the notion of a future account, and general righteous judgment, implies some sort of tempta¬ tions to what is wrong, otherwise there would be no moral possibility of doing wrong, nor ground for judgment or dis¬ crimination. But there is this difference, that the word pro^ haiion is more distinctly and particularly expressive of allure¬ ments to wrong, or difficulties in adhering uniformly to what is right, and of the danger of miscarrying by such tempta¬ tions, than the words moral government. A state of proba¬ tion, then, as thus particularly implying in it trial, difficulties, and danger, may require to be considered distinctly by itself. And as the moral government of God, which religion teaches us, implies, that we are in a state of trial with regard to a future world ; so also his natural government over us implies, that we are in a state of trial, in a like sense, with regard to the present world. Natural government, by re¬ wards and punishments, as much implies natural trial, as moral government does moral trial. The natural govern- CHAP. IV.] OF A STATE OF TRIAL. 85 ment of God here meant * consists in his annexing pleasure to some actions, and pain to others, which are in our power to do or forbear, and in giving us notice of such appoint¬ ment beforehand. This necessarily implies, that he has made our happiness and misery, or our interest, to depend in part upon ouj‘selves. And so far as men have tempta¬ tions to any course of action, which will probably occasion them greater temporal inconvenience and uneasiness than satisfaction, so far their temporal interest is in danger from themselves, or they are in a sta-t.e of trial with respect to it. Now, people often blame others, and even themselves, for their misconduct in their temporal concerns. And we find many are greatly wanting to themselves, and miss of that natural happiness which they might have obtained in the ^ present life ; perhaps every one does in some degree. But many run themselves into great inconvenience, and into ex¬ treme distress and misery, not through incapacity of know¬ ing better, and doing better for themselves, which would be nothing to the present purpose, but through their own fault. And these things necessarily imply temptation, and danger of miiscarrying, in a greater or less degree, with respect to our worldly interest or happiness. Every one, too, without having religion in his thoughts, speaks of the hazards which young people run upon their setting out in the world ; haz¬ ards from other causes, than merely their ignorance, and unavoidable accidents. And some courses of vice, at least, being contrary to men’s worldly interest or good, temptations to these must at the same time be temptations to forego our present and our future interest. Thus, in our natural or temporal capacity, we are in a state of trial, i. e.. of difficulty and danger, analogous or like to our moral and religious trial. This will more distinctly appear to any one, who thinks it worth while, more distinctly, to consider what it is which constitutes our trial in both capacities,, and to observe how mankind behave under it. And that which constitutes this our trial, in both these capacities, must be somewhat either in our ex;ternal circum¬ stances^ or in our nature. For, on the one hand, persons may be betrayed into wrong behaviour upon surprise, or overcome upon any other very singular and extraordinary * Chap. 2. 8G OF A STATE OF TRIAL. [part I. external occasions, who would, otherwise, have preserved their character of prudence and of virtue; in which cases, everyone, in speaking of the wrong behaviour of these per. sons, would impute_it.to such particular external circum¬ stances. And, on the other hand, men who have contracted habits of vice and folly of any kind, or have some particu¬ lar passions in excess, will seek opportunities, and, as U were, go out of their way, to gratify themselves in these respects, at the expense of their wisdom and their virtue ; led to it, as every one would say, not by external tempta¬ tions, but by such habits and passions. And the account of this last case is, that particular passions are no more co¬ incident with prudence, or that reasonable self-love, the end of which is our worldly interest, than they are with the prin¬ ciple of virtue and religion, but often draw contrary ways to one as well as to the other ; and so such particular pas sions are as much temptations to act imprudently with re¬ gard to oui worldly interest, as to act viciously.* However as when \vt say, men are misled by eternal circumstances of temptation, it cannot but be understood, that there is some what within themselves, to render those circumstances temptations, or to render them susceptible of impressions from them ; so, when we say, they are misled by passions, it is always supposed, that there are occasions, circum¬ stances, and objects, exciting these passions, and affording means for gratifying them. And, therefore, temptations from within, and from without, coincide, and mutually imply each other. Now, the several external objects of the appe¬ tites, passions, and affections, being present to the senses, or offering themselves to the mind, and so exciting emotions suitable to their nature, not only in cases where they can be gratified consistently with innocence and piudence, but also in cases where they cannot, and yet can be gratifi¬ ed imprudently and viciously; this as really puts them in danger of voluntarily foregoing Uheir present interest or good, as their future, and as really renders self-denial neces¬ sary to secure one as the other ; i. e. we are in a like state of trial with respect to both, by the very same passions, ex¬ ceed by the very same means. Thus, mankind having a temporal interest depending upon themselves, and a prudent course of behaviour being necessary to secure it, passions * See Sermons preached at the Rolls, 1726, 2d Ed. 205, &c. Pref. p. 25, &c. Serm. p. 21. &c. CHAP. IV.] OF A STATE OF TRIAL. 87 inordinately excited, whether by means of example or by any other external circumstance, towards such objects, at such times, or in such degrees, as that they cannot be grati¬ fied consistently with worldly prudence, are temptations dangerous, and too often successful temptations, to forego a greater temporal good for a less ; i. e. to forego what is, upon the whole, our temporal interest, for the sake of a present gratification. This is a description of our state of*trial in our temporal capacity. Substitute now the word future for temporal^ and virtue for prudence^ and it will be just as proper a description of our state of trial in our religious capacity , so analogous are they to each other. If, from consideration of this our like state of trial in both capacities, we goon to. observe farther, how mankind be¬ have under it, we shall find there are some who have so little sense of it,, that they scarce look beyond the passing , day ; they are so taken up with present gratifications, as to have, in a manner, no feeling of consequences, no regard to their future ease or fortune in this life, any more than to their happiness in another. Some appear to be blinded and de¬ ceived by inordinate passion, in their worldly concerns, as much as in religion. Others are, not deceived, but, as it were, forcibly carried away, by the like passions, against their better judgment, and feeble resolutions, too, of acting better. And there are men and truly they are not a few, who shamelessly avow, not their interests, but their mere will and pleasure, to be their law of life ; and who, in open defiance of every thing that is reasonable, will go on in a course of vicious extravagance, foreseeing, with no remorse and little fear, that it will be their temporal ruin ; and some of them, under the apprehension of the consequences of wickedness in another state : and, to speak in the most moderate way, human creatures are not only continually lia¬ ble to go wrong voluntarily, but we see likewise that they often actually do so, with respect to their temporal interests, as well as with respect to religion. Thus, our difficulties and dangers, or our trials in our temporal and our religious cajDacity, as they proceed from the same causes, and' have the same effect upon men’s beha viour, are evidently analogous, and of the same kind. It may be added, that as the difficulties and dangers of miscarrying in our religious state of trial are greatly in¬ creased, and, one is ready to think, in a manner wholly made^ by the ill-behaviour of others; by a wrong education, 88 OF A STATE OF TRIAL. [part I. wrong in a moral sense, sometimes positively vicious ; by general bad example ; by the dishonest artifices which are got into business of all kinds ; and, m very many parts of the world, by religion being corrupted intOw superstitions which indulge men in their vices ; so, in like manner, the difficulties of conducting ourselves prudently in respect to our present interests, and our danger of being led aside from pursuing it, are greatly increased by a foolish education, and, after we come to mature age, by the extravagance and carelessness of others, whom we have intercourse with; and by mistaken notions, very generally prevalent, and ta¬ ken up from common opinion, concerning temporal happi¬ ness, and wherein it consists. And persons, by their own negligence and folly in their temporal affairs, no less than by a course of vice, bring themselves into new difficulties, and, by habits of indulgence, become less qualified to go through them; and one irregularity after another embar¬ rasses things to such a degree, that they know not where¬ about they are, and often makes the path of conduct so in¬ tricate and perplexed, that it is difficult to trace it out; diffi¬ cult even to determine what is the prudent or the moral part. Thus, for instance, wrong behaviour in one stage of life, youth ; wrong, I mean, considering ourselves only in oui temporal capacity, without taking in religion ; this, in sev¬ eral ways, increases the difficulties of right behaviour in mature age ; i. e. puts us into a more disadvantageous state of trial in our temporal capacity. We are an inferior part of the creation of God. There are natural appearances of our being in a state of degra¬ dation and we certainly are in a condition which does not seem^ by any means, the most advantageous we could imagine or desire, either m our natural or moral capacity, for securing either our present or future interest. However, this condition, low, and careful, and uncertain as it is, does not afford any just ground of complaint: For, as men may manage their temporal affairs with prudence, and so pass their days here on earth in tolerable ease and satisfaction, by a moderate degree of care ; so, likewise, with regard to reli¬ gion, there is no more required than what they are well able to do, and what they must be greatly wanting to themselves if they neglect. And for persons to have that put upon them which they are well able to go through, and no more, * Part 2, Chap. 5. CHAP. IV.] OF A STATE OF TRIAL. 89 we naturally consider as an equitable thing, supposing it done by proper authority. Nor have we any more reason to compikin of it, with regard to the Author of nature, than of his not having given us other advantages, belonging to other orders of creatures. But the thing here insisted upon is, that the state of trial which religion teaches us we are in, is rendered credi¬ ble, b}' its being throughout uniform and of a piece with the general conduct of Provddence towards us, in all other respects within the compass of our knowledge. Indeed, if mankind, considered in their natural capacity as inhabitants of this world only, found themselves, from their birth to their death in a settled state of security and happiness, without any solicitude or thought of their own ; or, if they were in no danger of being brought into inconveniences and distress by carelessness, or the folly of passion, through bad example, the treachery of others, or the deceitful appearances of things ; were this our natur¬ al condition, then it might seem strange, and be some pre¬ sumption against the truth of religion, that it represents our future and more general interest, as not secure of course, but as depending upon our behaviour and requiring recollec¬ tion and self-government to obtain it. For it might be al¬ leged, ‘ What you say is our condition in one respect, is not in any wise of a sort with what we find, by experience, our condition is in another. Our whole present interest is secur¬ ed to our hands, without any solicitude of ours, and why should not our future interest, if we have any such, be so too f But since, on the contrary, thought and considera¬ tion, the voluntary denying ourselves many things which we desire, and a course of behaviour far from being always agreeable to us, are absolutely necessary to our acting even a common decent, and common prudent part, so as to pass with aii}^ satisfaction through the present world, and be re¬ ceived upon any tolerable good terms in it; since this is the case, all presumption against self-denial and attention being necessary to secure our highest interest, is removed. Had we not experience, it might, perhaps, speciously be urged, that it is improbable any thing of hazard and danger should be put upon us by an infinite Being, when every thing which is hazard and danger in our manner of conception, and will end in error, confusion, and misery, is now already certain in his foreknowledge. And, indeed, why any thing of hazard and danger should be put upon such frail creatures 90 OF A STATE OF TRIAL. [PART I. as we are, may well be thought a difficulty in speculation; and cannot but be so, till we know the whole, or, however, much more of the case. But still the constitution of nature is as it is. Our happiness and misery are trusted to our conduct, and made to depend upon it. Somewhat, and, in many circumstances, a great deal too, is put upon us, either to do, or to suffer, as we choose. And all the various miseries of life, which people bring upon themselves by negligence and folly, and might have avoided by proper care, are in* stances of this ; which miseries are, beforehand, just as con¬ tingent and undetermined as their conduct, and left to be determined by it. These observations are an answer to the objections against the credibility of a state of trial, as implying temjv tations, and real danger of miscarrying with regard to our general interest, under the moral government of God ; and they show, that, if we are at all to be considered in such a capacity, and as having such an interest, the general analo¬ gy of Providence must lead us to apprehend ourselves in danger of miscarrying, in different degrees, as to this inter¬ est, by our neglecting to act the proper part belonging to us in that capacity. For we have a present interest, under the government of God which we experience here upon earth. - And this interest, as it is not forced upon us, so nei¬ ther is it offered to our acceptance, hut to our acquisition in such sort, as that'we are in danger of missing it, by means of temptations to neglect or act contrary to it; and without attention and self-denial, must and do miss of it. It js then perfectly credible, that this may be our case with respect to that chief and final good which religion proposes to us. CHAP. V.] MORAL DISCIPLINE. 91 CHAPTER V. 0/ a State of Probation^ as intended for Moral Discipline and Improvement, From the consideration of our being in a probation-state, of so much difficulty and hazard, naturally arises the ques¬ tion, how we came to be placed in it ? But such a general inquiry as this Vvmuld be found involved in insuperable diffi¬ culties. For, though some of these difficulties would be lessened by observing, that all wickedness, is voluntary, as is implied in its very notion, and that many of the miseries of life have apparent good effects, yet when we consider other circumstances belonging to both, and what must be the con¬ sequence of the former in a life fo come, it cannot but be acknowledged plain folly and presumption, to pretend to give an account of the whole reasons of this matter; the whole reasons of our being alloted a condition, out of which so much wickedness and misery, so circumstanced, would ill fact arise. Whether it be not beyond our faculties, not only to find out, but even to understand, the whole ac¬ count of this ; or, though we should be supposed capable of understanding it, yet, whether it would be of service or pre¬ judice to us to be informed of it, is impossible to say. But as our present condition can in no wise be shown inconsis¬ tent with the perfect moral government of God ; so reli¬ gion teaches us we are placed in it, that we might qualify ourselves, by the practice of virtue, for another state, which is to follow it. And this, though but a partial answer, a very partial one indeed, to the inquiry now mentioned, yet is a more satisfactoiy answer to another, which is of real, and of the utmost importance to us to have answered—the inquiry, What is our business here ? The known end, then, why we are placed in a state of so much affliction, hazard, / 92 OF A STATE OF [PART J. and difficulty, is, our improvement in virtue and piety, as the requisite qualification for a future state of security and happiness. Now, the beginning of life, considered as an education for mature age in the present world, appears plainly, at first sight, analogous to this our trial for a future one ; the for¬ mer being, in our temporal capacity, what the latter is in our religious capacity. But some observations common to both of them, and a more distinct consideration of each, will more distinctly show the extent and force of the analogy be¬ tween them ; and the credibility, which arises from hence, as well as from the nature of the thing, that the present life was intended to be a state of discipline for a future one. I. Every species of creature is, we see, designed for a particular way of life, to which the nature, the capacities, temper, and qualifications of each species, are as necessary as their external circumstances. Both come into the no- / tion of such state, or particular way of life, and are constitu ent parts of it. Change a man’s capacities or character to the degree in which it is conceivable they may be changed, and he would be altogether incapable of a human course of life and human happiness; as incapable, as if, his nature con¬ tinuing unchanged, he were placed in a world where he had no sphere of action, nor any objects to answer his appe¬ tites, passions, and affections of any sort. One thing is set over against another, as an ancient writer expresses it. Our nature corresponds to our external condition. Without this correspondence, there would be no possibility of any such thing as human life and human happiness ; which life and happiness are, therefore, a result from our nature and condi¬ tion jointly ; meaning by human life, not living in the liter¬ al sense, but the whole complex notion commonly under¬ stood by those words. So that, without determining what will be the employment and happiness, the particular life of good men hereafter, there mqst be some determinate capacities, some necessary character and qualifications, without which persons cannot but be utterly incapable of it; in like manner as there must be some, without which men would be incapable of their present state of life. Now, II. The constitution of human creatures, and indeed of all creatures which come under our notice, is such, as that they are capable of naturally becoming qualified for states of life, for which they were once wholly unqualified. In imagination we may indeed conceive of creatures, as inca- CHAP. V.] MOPAL DISCIPLINE. 93 pable of having any of their faculties naturally enlarged, or as being unable naturally to acquire any new qualifications; but the faculties of every species known to us are made for enlargement, for acquirements of experience and habits. We find ourselves, in particular, endued with capacities, not only of perceiving ideas, and of knowledge or perceiving truth, but also of storing up our ideas and knowledge by memory. We are capable, not only of acting, and of hav* ing different momentary impressions made upon us, but of getting a new facility in any kind of action, and of settled alterations in our temper or character. The power of the two last is the power of habits. But neither the perception of ideas, nor knowledge of any sort, are habits, though ab¬ solutely necessary to the forming of them. However, ap¬ prehension, reason, memory, which are the capacities of acquiring knowledge, are greatly improved by exercise. Whether the word hahit is applicable to all these improve¬ ments, and, in particular, how far the powers of memory and of habits may be powers of the same nature, I shall not in¬ quire. But that perceptions come into our minds readily and of course, by means of their having been there before, seems a thing of the same sort, as readiness in any particu¬ lar kind of action, proceeding from being accustomed to it. And aptness to recollect practical observations of service in our conduct, is plainly habit in many cases. There are habits of perception and habits of action. An instance of the former, is our constant and even involuntary readi¬ ness in correcting the impressions of our sight concerning magnitudes and distances, so as to substitute judgment in the room of sensation, imperceptibly to ourselves. And it seems as if all other associations of ideas, not naturally con¬ nected, might be called passive habits, as properly as our readiness in understanding languages upon sight, or hearing of words. And our readiness in speaking and writing them is an instance of the latter, of active habits. For distinct¬ ness, we may consider habits as belonging to the body, or the mind, and the latter will be explained by the form.er. Under the former are comprehended all bodily activities or motions, whether graceful or unbecoming, which are owing to use; under the latter, general habits of life and conduct, such as those of obedience and submission to authority, or to any particular person ; those of veracity, justice, and charity ; those of attention, industry, self-government, envy, revenge. And habits of this latter kind seem produced by 94 OF A STATE OF [part I. repeated acts, as well as the former. And in like manner, as habits belonging to the body are produced by external acts, so habits of the mind are produced by the exertions of inward practical principles ; i. e. by carrying them into act, or acting upon them, the principles of obedience, of veraci¬ ty, justice, and charity. Nor can those habits be formed by any external course of action, otherwise than as it proceeds from these principles ; because it is only these inward princi¬ ples exerted, which are strictly acts of obedience, of veracity, of justice, and of charity. So, likewif^e, habits of attention, in¬ dustry, self-government, are, in the same manner, acquired by exercise ; and habits of envy and revenge by indulgence, whether in outward act or in thought and intention i. e. in¬ ward act; for such intention is an act. Resolutions to do well are properly acts: and endeavouring to enforce upon our own minds a practical sense of virtue, or to beget in others that practical sense of it which a man really has himself, is a virtuous act. All these, therefore, may and will contribute towards forming good habits. But, going over the theory of virtue in one’s thoughts, talking well, and draw¬ ing fine pictures of it, this is so far from necessarily or cer¬ tainly conducing to form a habit of it in him who thus em¬ ploys himself, that it may harden the mind in a contrary course, and render it gradually more insensible, i. e. form a habit of insensibility to all moral considerations. For, from our very faculty of habits, passive impressions, by being repeated, grow weaker. Thoughts, by often passing through the mind, are felt less sensibly ; being accustomed to danger, begets intrepidity, i. e. lessens fear; to distress, lessens the passion of pity ; to instances of others’ mortality, lessens the sensible apprehension of our own. And from these two observations together, that practical habits are formed and strengthened by repeated acts, and that passive impressions grow wmaker by being repeated upon us, it must follow, that active habits may be gradually forming and strength¬ ening, by a course of acting upon such and such motives and excitements, whilst these motives and excitements, themselves are, by proportionable degrees, growing less sen¬ sible ; i. e. are continually less and less sensibly felt, even as the active habits strengthen. And experience confirms this; for active principles, at the very time that they are less lively in perception than they were, are found to be some how wrought more thoroughly into the temper and character, and become more effectual in influencing our CHAP. V.] MORAL DISCIPLINE. 95 practice. The three things just mentioned may afford in¬ stances of it. Perception of danger is a natural excitement of passive fear, and active caution; and, by being inured to danger, habits of the latter are gradually wrought, at the same time that the former gradually lessens. Perception of distress in others is a natural excitement, passively to pity, and actively to relieve it; but let a man set himself to attend to, inquire out, and relieve distressed persons, and he cannot but grow less and less sensibly affected with the va¬ rious miseries of life, with which he must become acquain¬ ted ; when yet, at the same time, benevolence, considered not as a passion, but as a practical principal of action, will strengthen; and, whilst he passively compassionates the distressed less, he will acquire a greater aptitude actively to assist and befriend them. So also at the same time that the daily instances of men’s dying around us give us daily a less sensible passive feeling or apprehension of our own mortality, such instances greatly contribute to the strength¬ ening a practical regard to it in serious men ; i. e. to forming a habit of acting with a constant view to it. And this seems again further to show, that passive impressions made upon our minds by admonition, experience, example, though they may have a remote efficacy, and a very great one, to¬ wards forming active habits, yet can have this efficacy no otherwise than by inducing us to such a course of action j and that it is, not being affected so and so,.but acting, which forms those habits; only it must be always remembered, that real endeavours to enforce good impressions upon our¬ selves, are a species of virtuous action. Nor do we know how far it is possible, in the nature of things, that effects should be wrought in us at once equivalent to habits, i. e. what is'wrought by use and exercise. However, the thing insisted upon is, not what may be possible, but what is in fact the appointment of nature, which is, that active habits are to be formed by exercise. Their progress may be so gradu¬ al as to be imperceptible of its steps ; it may be hard to ex¬ plain the faculty by which we are capable of habits, through¬ out its several parts, and to trace it up to its original, so as to distinguish it from all others in our mind ; and it seems as if contrary effects were to be ascribed to it. But the thing in general, that our nature is formed to yield, in some such manner as this, to use and exercise, is matter of certain ex¬ perience. Thus, by accustoming ourselves to any course of action 96 OF A STATE OF [part r. we get an aptness to go on, a facility, readiness, and often pleasure in it. The inclinations which rendered us averse to it grow weaker ; the difficulties in it, not only the im¬ aginary, but the real ones, lessen ; the reasons for it offer themselves of course to our thoughts upon all occasions ; and the least glimpse of them is sufficient to make us go on in a course of action to which we have been aucustomed. And practical principles appear to grow stronger absolutely in themselves, by exercise, as well as relatively, with regard to contrary principles ; which, by being accustomed to sub- mit, do so habitually, and of course. And thus a new cha¬ racter, in several respects, may be formed ; and many habi¬ tudes of life, not given by nature, but which nature directs us to acquire. III. Indeed we may be assured, that we should never have had these capacities of improving by experience, acquired knowledge and habits, had they not been necessary, and in¬ tended to be made use of And, accordingly, we find them so necessary, and so much intended, that without them we should be utterly incapable of that which was the end, for which we were made, considered in our temporal capacity only ; the employments and satisfactions of our mature state of life. Nature does in no wise qualify us wholly, much less at once, for this mature state of life. Even maturity of under¬ standing and bodily strength are not only arrived to gradu¬ ally, but are also very much owing to the continued exer¬ cise of our powers of body and mind from infancy. But if we suppose a person brought into the world with both these in maturity, as far as this is conceivable, he would plainly at first be as unqualified for the human life of mature age, as an idiot. He would be in a manner distracted with aston¬ ishment, and apprehension, and curiosity, and suspense ; nor can one guess how long it would be before he would be familiarized to himself, and the objects about him, enough even to set himself to any thing. It may be questioned too, whether the natural information of his sight and hear¬ ing would be of any manner of use at all to him in acting, before experience. And it seems that men would be strange¬ ly headstrong and self-willed, and disposed to exert them¬ selves with an impetuosity which would render society in¬ supportable, and the living in it impracticable, were it not for some acquired moderation and self-government, some aptitude and readiness in restraining themselves, and con- CHAP. V.] MORAL DISCIPLINE. 97 cealing their sense of things. Want of every thing of this kind which is learned, would render a man as incapable of society as want of language would; or as his natural ignorance of any of the particular employments of life, would render him incapable of providing himself with the com¬ mon conveniences or supplying the necessary wants of it In these respects, and probably in many more, of which we have no particular notion, mankind is left by nature an un¬ formed, unfinished creature, utterly deficient and unqualified, before the acquirement of knowledge, experience, and habits, for that mature state of life, which was the end of his creation, considering him as related only to this world. But then, as nature has endued us with a power of sup¬ plying those deficiencies, by acquired knowledge, experi¬ ence, and habits ; so, likewise, we are placed in a condition, in infancy, childhood, and youth, fitted for it; fitted for our acquiring those qualifications of all sorts, which we stand in need of in mature age. Hence children, from their very birth, are daily growing acquainted with the objects about them, with the scene in which they are placed, and to have a future part; and learning somewhat or other, necessary to the performance of it. The subordinations, to which they are accustomed in domestic life, teach them self-gov¬ ernment in common behaviour abroad, and prepare them for subjection and obedience to civil authority. What passes before their eyes, and daily happens to them, gives them ex¬ perience, caution against treachery and deceit, together with numberless little rules of action and conduct, which we could not live without, and which are learned so insensibly and so perfectly, as to be mistaken perhaps for instinct; though they are the effect of long experience and exercise : as much so as language, or knowledge in particular business, or the qualifi¬ cations and behaviour belonging to the several ranks and pro¬ fessions. Thus, the beginning of our days is adapted to be, and is, a state of education in the theory and practice of mature life. We are much assisted in it by example, in¬ struction, and the care of others ; but a great deal is left to ourselves to do. And of this, as part is done- easily and of course, so part requires diligence and care, the voluntary foregoing many things which we desire, and setting our¬ selves to what we should have no inclination to, but for the necessity or expedience of it. For that labor and industry which the station of so many absolutely requires, they would be greatly unqualified for in maturity, as those in other sta- 6 98 OF A STATE OF [part tions would be for any other sorts of application, if both were not accustomed to them in their youth. And according as persons behave themselves, in the general education which all go through, and in the particular ones adapted to parti¬ cular employments, their character is formed, and made ap¬ pear ; they recommend themselves more or less; and are capable of, and placed in, different stations in the society of mankind. The former part of life, then, is to be considered as an im¬ portant opportunity, which nature puts into our hands, and which, when lost, is not to be recovered. And our being placed in a state of discipline throughout this life, for another world, is a providential disposition of things, exactly of the same kind as our being placed in a state of discipline during childhood, for mature age. Our condition in both respects is uniform and of a piece, and comprehended under one and the same general law of nature. And if we are not able at all to discern, how or in what way the present life could be our preparation for another, thi-s would be no objection against the credibility of its being 50 . For we do not discern how food and sleep contribute to the growth of the body, nor could have any thought that they would, before we had experience. Nor do children at all think, on the one hand, that the sports and exercises, to which they are so much addicted, contribute to their health and growth ; nor, on the other, of the necessity which theie is for their being restrained in them ; nor are they capable of understanding the use of many parts of discipline, which nevertheless they must be made to go through, in order to qualify them for the business of mature age. Were we not able, then, to discovei in what respect the present life could form us for a future one, yet nothing would be more sup- posible than that it might, in some respects or other, from the general analogy of Providonce. And this, for aught 1 see, might reasonably be said, even though we should not take in the consideration of God’s moral government over the world. But, IV. Take in this consideration, and consequently, that the character of virtue and piety is a necessary qualification for the future state, and then we may distinctly see how, and in what respects, the present life may be a preparation for it; since we loant^ and are capable of imp-rovement in that char- acier^ by moral and religious habits ; and the present life is ft to be a state of discipline for such improvement; in like manner, CHAP. -V ] MORAL DISCIPLINE. 99 as we have already observed, how, and in what respects, infancy, childhood, and youth, are a necessary preparation, and a natural state of discipline, for mature age. Nothing which we at present see would lead us to the thought of a solitary inactive state hereafter, but, if we judge at all from the analogy of nature, we must suppose, accord¬ ing to the Scripture account of h, that it will be a communi¬ ty. And there is no shadow of any thing unreasonable in conceiving, though there be no analogy for it, that this com¬ munity will be, as the Scripture represents it, under the more immediate, or, if such an expression may be used, the more sensible government of God. Nor is our ignorance, what will be the employments of this happy community, nor our consequent ignorance, what particular scope or oc¬ casion there will be for the exercise of veracity, justice, and charity, amongst the members of it with regard to each other, any proof that there will be no sphere of exercise for those virtues. Much less, if that were possible, is our igno¬ rance any proof that there will be no occasion for that frame of mind, or character, which is formed by the daily practice of those particular virtues here, and which is a result from it. This at least must be owned in general, that as the go¬ vernment established in the universe is moral, the character of vii’tue and piety must, in some way or other, be the con¬ dition of our happiness, or the qualification for it. Now, from what is above observed concerning our natu¬ ral power of habits, it is easy to see, that we are capable of moral improvement by discipline. And how greatly we xuant it, need not be proved to any one who is acquainted with the great wickedness of mankind, or even with those imperfections which the best are conscious of But it is not perhaps distinctly attended to by every one, that the occa¬ sions which human creatures have for discipline, to improve in them this character of virtue and piety, is to be traced up higher than to excess in the passions, by indulgence and habits of vice. Mankind, and perhaps all finite creatures, from the very constitution of their nature, before habits of virtue, are deficient, and in danger of deviating from what is right, and therefore stand in need of virtuous habits for a se¬ curity against this danger. For, together with the general principal of moral understanding, we have in our inward frame various affections towards particular external objects. These affections are naturally, and of right, subject to the government of the moral princiole, as to the occasions upon 100 OF A STATE OF [part 1, which they may be gratified, as to the times, degrees, and manner, in which the objects of them may be pursued ; but then the principle of virtue can neither excite them, nor pre¬ vent their being excited. On the contrary, they are natu¬ rally felt, when the objects of them are present to the mind, not only before all consideration whether they can be ob¬ tained by lawful means, but after it'is found they cannot.' For the natural objects of affection continue so ; the neces¬ saries, conveniences, and pleasures of life, remain naturally desirable, though they cannot be obtained innocently ; nay, though they cannot possibly be obtained at all. And when the objects of any affection whatever cannot be obtained without unlawful means, but may be obtained by them, such affection, though its being excited, and its continuing some time in the mind, be as innocent as it is natural and necessa¬ ry, yet cannot but be conceived to have a tendency to in¬ cline persons to venture upon such unlawful means, and therefore must be conceived as putting them in some danger of it. Now, what is the general security against this dan¬ ger, against their actually deviating from right? as the danger is, so also must the security be, from within, from the practical principle of virtue."^ And the strengthening or improving this principle, considered as practical, or as a principle of action, will lessen the danger or increase the se¬ curity against it. And this moral principle is capable of improvement, by proper discipline and exercise ; by recol¬ lecting the practical impressions which example and expet lienee have made upon us ; and, instead of following humor and mere inclination, by continually attending to the ecjuity and right of the case, in whatever we are engaged, be it in * It may be thought that a sense of interest would as effectually restrain creatures from doing wrong. But if by a sense of interest is meant, a speculative conviction or belief that such and suc.h indulgence would occa¬ sion them greater uneasiness, upon the whole, than satisfaction, it is con¬ trary to present experience to say. tliat this sense of interest is sufficient to restrain them from thus indulging themselves. And if by a sense of in¬ terest is meant, a practical regard to what is upon the whole our happi¬ ness, this is not only coincident with the principle of virtue or moral recti¬ tude, but is a part of the idea itself. And it is evident this reasonable self- love wants to be improved, as really as any principle in our nature. For we daily see it overmatched, not only by the more boisterous passions, but by curiosity, shame, love of imitation, by any thing, even indolence: espe¬ cially if the interest, the temporal interest, suppose, which is the end ol such self-love, be at a distance. So greatly are profligate men mistaken, when they aflirm they are wholly governed by interestedness and self-love And so little cause is there for moralists to disclaim this principle. CHAP. V.] MORAL DISCIPLINE. 101 greater or less matters, and accustoming ourselves always to act upon it, as being itself the just and natural motive of action; and as this moral course of behaviour must neces¬ sarily, under divine government, be our final interest. Thus the principle of virtue^ improved into a hahit^ of which improve¬ ment ive are thus capable^ will plainly he, in proportion to the strength of it, a security against the danger which finite crea¬ tures are in, from the very nature of propension, or particular affections. This way of putting the matter supposes parti¬ cular affections to remain in a future state, which it is scarce jiossible to avoid supposing. And if they do, we clearly see, that acquired habits of virtue and self-government may be necessary for the regulation of them. However, though we were not distinctl}^ to take in this supposition, but to speak only in general, the thing really comes to the same. For habits of virtue, thus acquired by discipline, are improve¬ ment in virtue ; and improvement in virtue must be advance¬ ment in happiness, if the government of the universe be moral. From these things we may observe, and it will farther show this our natural and original need of being improved by discipline, how it comes to pass, that creatures, made up¬ right, fall; and that those who preserve their uprightness, by so doing, raise themselves to a more secure state of vir¬ tue. To say that the former is accounted for by the nature of liberty, is to say no more than that an event’s actually happening is accounted for by a mere possibility of its hap¬ pening. But it seems distinctly conceiv able from the very nature of particular affections or propensions. For, sup¬ pose creatures intended for such a particular state of life, for’which such propensions were necessary ; suppose them endued with such propensions, together with moral under¬ standing, as well including a practical sense of virtue as a speculative perception of it; and that ail these several prin¬ ciples, both natural and moral, forming an inward constitu¬ tion of mind, were in the most exact proportion possible, z. e. in a proportion the most exactly adapted to their intende-1 state of life ; such creatures would be made upright, or finite¬ ly perfect. Now, particular propensions, from ihar very nature,mustbe felt, the objects of them being present,ihough they cannot be gratified at all, or not with the allowance of the moral principle. But if they can be gratified without its allowance, or by contradicting it, then they must be con¬ ceived to have some tendency, in how low a degree soever, yot some tendency, to induce persons to such forbidden 102 OF A STATE OF [part I gratification. This tendency, in some one particular pro* pension, may be increased, by the greater frequency of oc* casions naturally exciting it, than of occasions exciting others. The least voluntary indulgence in forbidden cir¬ cumstances, though but in thought, will increase this wrong tendency, and may increase it further, till, peculiar conjec¬ tures perhaps conspiring, it becomes effect; and danger of deviating from right, ends in actual deviation from it; a dan¬ ger necessarily arising from the very nature of propension, and which, therefore, could not have been prevented, though it might have been escaped, or got innocently through. The case would be, as if we were to suppose a straight path marked out for a person, in which such a degree of attention would keep him stead}''; but if he would not attend in this degree, any one of a thousand objects catching his eye, might lead him out of it. Now, it is impossible to say, how much even the first full overt act of irregularity might disorder the inward constitution, unsettle the adjustments, and alter the proportions which formed it^ and in which the uprightness of its make consisted. But repetition of irregularities would produce habits : emd thus the constitution would be spoiled, and creatures, made upright, become corrupt and depraved in their settled character, proportionably to their repeated irregularities in occasional acts. But, on the contrary, these creatures might have improved arid raised themselves to a higher and more secure state of virtue, by the contrary be¬ haviour, by steadily following the moral principle, supposed to be one part of their nature, and thus notwithstanding that unavoidable danger of defection, which necessarily arose from propension, the other part of it. For, by thus preserv¬ ing their integrity for some time,, their danger would lessen, since propensions, by being inured to submit, would do it more easily and of course ; and their security against this lessening danger would increase, since the moral principle would gain additional strength by exercise ; both which things are implied in the notion of virtuous habits. Thus, then, ,vicious indulgence is not only criminal in itself, but also depraves the inward constitution and character. And vir¬ tuous self-government is not only right in itself, but also im¬ proves the inward constitution or character; and may im¬ prove it to such a degree, that though we shou.ld suppose it impossible for particular affections to be absolutely coinci¬ dent with the moral principle, and consequently should al¬ low that such creatures as have been above supposed would CHAP. V.] MORAL DISCIPLINE. 103 for ever remain defectible ; yet their danger of actually do* viating from right may be almost infinitely lessened, and they fully fortified against what remains of it; if that may be called danger, against which there is an adequate effec¬ tual security. But still, this their higher perfection may continue to consist in habits of virtue formed in a state of discipline, and this their more complete security remain to proceed from them. And thus it is plainly conceivable, that creatures without blemish, as they came out of the hands of God, may be in danger of going wrong, and so may stand in need of the security of virtuous habits, additional to the moral principle WTOught into their natures by him. That which is the ground of their danger, or their want of securi¬ ty, may be considered as a deficiency in them, to which vir¬ tuous habits are the natural supply. And as they are nat¬ urally capable of being raised and improved by discipline, it may be a thing fit and requisite, that they should be placed in circumstances wdth an eye to it; in circumstances pecu¬ liarly fitted to be, to them, a state of discipline for their im¬ provement in virtue. But how much more strong must this hold with respect to those who have corrupted their natures, are fallen from their original rectitude, and whose passions are become excessive by repeated violations of their inward constitution ? Up¬ right creatures may ^vant to be improved; depraved crea¬ tures want to be renewed. Education and discipline, which may be in all degrees and sorts of gentleness and of severi¬ ty, is expedient for those ; but must be absolutely necessary for these. For these, diciplme, of the severer sort too, and in the higher degrees of it, must be necessary, in order to wear out vicious habits ; to recover their primitive strength of self-government, which indulgence must have weakened; to repair, as well as raise into a habit, the moral principle, in order to,their arriving at a secure state of virtuous happiness. Now, whoever will consider the thing may clearly see, that the' present world is peculiarly jit to be a state of disci¬ pline for this purpose, to such as will set themselves to mend and improve. For, the various temptations with which we are surrounded ; our experience of the deceits of wicked¬ ness ; having been in many instances led wrong ourselves; the great viciousness of the world ; the infinite disorders consequent upon it; our being made acquainted with pain and sorrow, either from our own feeling of it, or from the eight of it in others; these things, though some of them may 104 OF A STATE OF [part. I. indeed produce wrong effects upon our minds, yet, v/hen du¬ ly reflected upon, have all of them a direct tendency to bring us 10 a settled moderation and reasonableness of temper ; the contrary both to thoughtless levity, and also to that unre¬ strained self-will, and violent bent to follow present inclina¬ tion, which ma}^ be observed in undisciplined minds. Such experience, as the present state affords, of the frailty of our nature, of the boundless extravagance of ungoverned pas¬ sion, of the power which an infinite Being has over us, by the various capacities of misery which he has given us ; in short, that kind and degree of experience which the present state affords us, that the constitution of nature is such as to admit the possibility, the danger, and the actual event, of creatures losing their innocence and happiness, and becom¬ ing vicious, and wretched ; hath a tendency to give a prac¬ tical sense of things very different from a mere speculative knowledge, that we are liable to vice, and capable of misery. And who knows, whether the security of creatures in the highest and most settled state of perfection, may not, in part, arise from their having had such a sense of things as this, formed, and habitually fixed within them, in some state of probation? And passing through the present world with that moral attention which is necessary to the acting a right part in it, may leave everlasting impressions of this sort up¬ on our minds. But to be a little more distinct; allurements to what is wrong ; difficulties in the'discharge of our duty; our not being able'to act a uniform right part without some thought and care ; and the opportunities which we have, or imagine we have, of avoiding what we dislike, or obtaining what we desire, by unlawful means, when we either cannot do it at all, or at least not so easily, by lawful ones ; these things, i. e. the snares and temptations of vice, are what ren¬ der the present world peculiarly fit to be a state of discipline to those who will preserve their integrity ; because they ren¬ der being upon our guard, resolution, and the denial of our passions, necessary in order to that end. And the exercise of such ^ particular recollection, intention of mind, and self- government, in the practice of virtue, has, from the make of our nature, a peculiar tendency to form habits of virtue, as implying not only a real, but also a more continued, and a more intense exercise of the virtuous principle ; or a more constant and a stronger effort of virtue exerted into act Thus, suppose a person to know himself to be in particular danger, for some time, of doing any thing wrong, which yet CHAP. V.] MORAL DISCIPLINE. 105 he fully resolves not to do, continued recollection, and keep* ing upon his' guard, in order to make good his resolution, is a continued exerting of that act of virtue in a high degree^ which need have been, and perhaps would have been, only instantaneous and loeak^ had the temptation been so. It is indeed ridiculous to assert, that self-denial is essential to vir¬ tue and piety ; but it would have been nearer the truth, though not strictly the truth itself, to have said, that it is es¬ sential to discipline and improvement. For, though actions materially virtuous, which have no sort of difficulty, but are perfectly agreeable to our particular inclinations, may possi¬ bly be done only from these particular inclinations, and so may not be any exercise of the principle of virtue, i. e. not be virtuous actions at all; yet, on the contrary, they may be an exercise of that principle, and, when they are, they have a tendency to form and fix the habit of virtue. But when the exercise of the virtuous principle is more continued, of- tener repeated, and more intense, as it must be in circum¬ stances of danger, temptation, and difficulty, of any kind and in any degree, this tendency is increased proportionably, and a more confirmed habit is the consequence. This undoubtedly holds to a certain length, but how far it may hold, I know not. Neither our intellectual powers, nor our bodily strength, can be improved beyond such a degree; and both may be over-wrought. Possibly there may be somewhat analogous to this, with respect to the moral char¬ acter ; which is scarce worth considering. And I mention it only, lest it should come into some persons thoughts, not as an exception to the foregoing observations, which per¬ haps it is, but as a confutation of them, which it is not. And there may be several other exceptions. Observations of this kind cannot be’supposed to hold minutely, and in every case. It is enough that they hold in general. And these plainly hold so far, as that from them may be seen dis¬ tinctly, which is all that is intended by them, that the pre¬ sent world is peculiarly Jit to he a state of discipline for our irti- "provement in virtue and piety; in the same sense as some sciences, by requiring and engaging the attention, not to be sure of such persons as will not, but of such as will, set themselves to them, are fit to form the ' mind to habits of attention. Indeed, the present state is so far from proving, in event, a discipline of virtue to the generality of men, that, on the contrary, they seem to make it a discipline of vice. And 5* 106 OF A STATE OF [part 1. the viciousness of the world is, in different ways, the great temptation, which renders it a state of virtuous discipline, in the degree it is, to good men. The whole end, and the whole occasion of mankind being placed in such a state as the present, is not pretended to be accounted for. That which appears amidst the general corruption is, that there are some persons, who, having within them the principle of amendment and recovery, attend to and follow the notices of virtue and religion, be they more clear or more obscure, which are afforded them ; and that the present world is, not only an exercise of virtue in these persons, but an exercise of it in ways and degrees peculiarly apt to improve itapt to improve it, in some respects, even beyond what would be by the exercise of it required in a perfectly virtuous society, or in a society of equally imperfect virtue with themselves. But that the present world does not actually become a state of moral discipline to many, even to the generality, i. e. that they do not improve or grow better in it, cannot be urged as a proof that it was not intended for moral discipline, by any who at all observe the analogy of nature. For of the nu¬ merous seeds of vegetables and bodies of animals, which are adapted and put in the wayj to improve to such a point or state of natural maturity and perfection, we do not see perhaps that one in a million actually does. Far the great¬ est part of them decay before they are improved to it, and appear to be absolutely destroyed. Yet no one, who does not deny all final causes, will denjq that those seeds and bo¬ dies which do attain to that point of maturity and perfection, answer the end for which they were really designed by na¬ ture ; and therefore that nature designed them for such per¬ fection. And I cannot forbear adding, though it is not to the present purpose, that the appearance of such an amazing icaste in nature, with respect to these seeds and bodies, by foreign causes, is to us as unaccountable, as, what is. much more terrible, the present and future ruin of so many moral agents by themselves, i. e. by vice. Against this whole notion of moral discipline it may be objected, in another way, that so far as a course of beha¬ viour, materially virtuous, proceeds from hope and fear, so far it is only a discipline and strengthening of self-love. But doing what God commands, because he commands it, is obedience, though it proceeds from hope or fear. And a course of such obedience will form habits of it; and a con¬ stant regard to veracity, justice, and charity, may form dis- CHAP. V.] MORAL DISCIPLINE. 107 tinct habits of these particular virtues, and will certainl 3 > form habits of self-government, and of denying our inclina¬ tions, whenever veracity, justice, or charity requires it. Nor is there any foundation for this great nicety, with which some affect to distinguish in this case, in order to depreciate all religion proceeding from hope or fear. For veracity, jus¬ tice, and charity, regard to God’s authority, and to our own chief interest, are not only all three coincident, but each of them is, in itself, a just and natural motive or principle of action. And he who begins a good life from any one of them, and perseveres in it, as he has already in some degree, so he cannot fail of becoming more and more of that cha¬ racter, which is correspondent to the constitution of nature as moral, and to the relation which God stands in to us as moral governor of it; nor, consequently, can he fail of ob¬ taining that happiness, which this constitution and relation necessarily supposes connected with that character. These several observations, concerning the active princi¬ ple of virtue and obedience to God’s commands, are applica¬ ble to passive submission or resignation to his will; which is another essential part of a right character, connected with the former, and very much in our power to form ourselves to. It may be imagined, that nothing but afflictions can give occasion for or require this virtue ; that it can have no respect to, nor be any way necessary to qualify for a state of perfect happiness; but it is not experience which can make us think thus: Prosperity itself, whilst any thing sup¬ posed desirable is not ours, begets extravagant and unboun¬ ded thoughts. Imagination is altogether as much a source of discontent as any thing in our external condition. It is indeed true, that there can be no scope for patience, when sorrow shall be no more ; but there may be need of a tem¬ per of mind, which shall have been formed by patience. For, though self-love, considered merely as an active princi¬ ple leading us to pursue our chief interest, cannot but be uniformly coincident with the principle of obedience to God’s commands, our interest being rightly understood ; because this obedience, and the pursuit of our own chief interest, must be, in every case, one and the same thing; yet it may be questioned, whether self-love, considered merely as the desire of our own interest or happiness, can, from its nature, be thus absolute and uniformly coincident with the will of God, any more than particular affection can ; coincident in 108 OF A STATE OF [part I. such sort, as not to be liable to be excited upon occasions, and in degrees, impossible to be gratified consistently with the constitution of things, or the divine appointments. So that habits of resignation may, upon this account, be requi¬ site for all creatures ; habits, I say, which signify what is formed by use. However, in general, it is obvious, that both self love and particular affections in human creatures, considered only as passive feelings, distort and rend the mind, and therefore stand in need of discipline. Now, deni¬ al of those particular affections, in a course of active virtue and obedience to God’s will has a tendency to moderate them, and seems also to have a tendency to habituate the mind to be easy and satisfied with that degree of happiness which is alloted to us, i. e. to moderate self love. But the proper discipline for resignation is affliction. For a right behaviour under that trial, recollecting ourselves so as to consider it in the view in which religion teaches us to consi¬ der it, as from the hand of God; receiving it as what he appoints, or thinks proper to permit, in his world and under his government, this will habituate the mind to a dutiful submission ; and such submission, together with the active principle of obedience, make up the temper and character in us which answers to his sovereignty, and which absolute¬ ly, belongs to the condition of our being, as dependent crea¬ tures. Nor can it be said, that this is only breaking the mind to a submission to mere power, for mere power may be accidental, and precarious, and usurped ; but it is form¬ ing within ourselves the temper of resignation to his right¬ ful authority, who is, by nature, supreme over all. Upon the whole, such a character, and such qualifica¬ tions, are necessary for a mature state of life in the present world, as nature alone does in no wise bestow, but has put it upon us in great part to acquire, in our progress from one stage of life to another, from childhood to mature age ; put it upon us to acquire them, by giving us capacities of doing it and by placing us, in the beginning of life, in a condition fit for it. And this is a general analogy to our condition in the present world, as in a state of moral discipline for anoth¬ er. It is in vain, then, to object against the credibility of the present life being intended for this purpose, that all the trouble and the danger unavoidably accompanying such discipline might have been saved us, by our being made at once the creatures and the characters which loe loere to he. For we experience, that what loe were to be, was to be the CHAP. V.] iViORAL DISCIPLINE. 109 effect of whai lue would do ; and that the general conduct of nature is, not to save us trouble or danger, but to make us capable of going through them, and to put it upon us to do so. Acquirements of our own experience and habits, are the natural supply to our deficiencies, and security against our dangers; since it is as plainly natural to set ourselves to acquire the qualifications as the external things which we stand in need of In particular, it is as plainly a general law of nature, that we should, with regard to our temporal interest, form and cultivate practical principles within us, by attention, use, and discipline, as any thing whatever is a natural law; chiefly in the begining of life, but also through out the whole course of it. And the alternative is left to our choice, either to improve ourselves and better our condi¬ tion, or, in default of such improvement, to remain deficient and wretched. It is therefore perfectly credible, from the analogy of nature, that the same may be our case, with re¬ spect to the happiness of a future state and the qualifica¬ tions necessary for it. There is a third thing, which may seem implied in the present world being a state of probation, that it is a thea¬ tre of action for the manifestation of persons’ characters, with respect to a future one ; not, to be sure, to an all-know¬ ing Being, but to his creation, or part of it. This may, perhaps, be only a consequence of our being in a state of probation in the other senses. However, it is not impossi¬ ble that men’s showiiig and making manifest what is in their heart, what their real character is, may have respect to a future hfe, in ways and manners which we are not acquain¬ ted with : particularly it may be a means, for the Author of nature does not appear to do any thing without means, of their being disposed of suitably to their characters, and of its being knowm to the creation, by way of example, that they are thus disposed of But not to enter upon any con¬ jectural account of this, one may just mention, that the manifestation of persons’ characters contributes very much, in various ways, to the carrying on a great part of that gene¬ ral course of nature respecting mankind, which comes un¬ der our observation at present. I shall only add, that pro¬ bation, in both these senses, as well as in that treated of in the foregoing chapter, is implied in moral government; since by persons’ behaviour under it, their characters cannot but be manifested, and if they behave well, improved. 110 OF THE OPINION OF NECESSITY. [PART 1 I CHAPTER VI. Of the opinion of JYecessity, considered as infuencing Practice. Throughout the foregoing Treatise it appears, that the condition of mankind, considered as inhabitants of this world only, and under the government of God which we experience, is greatly analogous to otir condition, as design¬ ed for another world, or under that farther government which religion teaches us. ]f, therefore, any assert, as a fatalist must, that the opinion of universal necessity is reconcilable with the former, there immediately arises a question in the way of analogy ; whether he must not also own it to be reconcilable with the latter, i. e. with the system of religion itself, and the proof of it. The reader, then, will observe, that the question now before us, is not absolute, whether the opinion of fate be reconcilable with religion ; but hypotheti¬ cal, whether, upon supposition of its being reconcilable with the constitution of nature, it be not reconcilable with reli¬ gion also ? or, what pretence a fatalist,—not other persons, but a fatalist—has to conclude, from his opinion, that there can be no such thing as religion ? And as the puzzle and obscurity, which miust unavoidably arise from arguing upon so absurd a supposition as that of universal necessity, will, I fear, easily be seen, it will, I hope, as easily be excused. But since it has been all along taken for granted, as a thing proved, that there is an intelligent Author of nature, or natural Governor of the world ; and since an objection may be made against the proof of this, from the opinion of universal necessity, as it may be supposed that such necessi¬ ty will itself account for the origin and preservation of all things, it is requisite that this objection be distinctly answer¬ ed ; or that it be shown, that a fatality, supposed consistent with what we certainly experience, does not destroy the proof of an intelligent Author and Governor of nature, be- CHAP. VI.] AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE. Ill fore we proceed to consider, whether it destroys the proof of a moral Governor of it, or of our being in a state of religion. Now when it is said by a fatalist, that the whole constitu¬ tion of nature, and the actions of men, that every thing and every mode and circumstance of every thing, is necessary, and could not possibly have been otherwise, it is to be observed, that this necessity does not exclude deliberation, choice, preference, and acting from certain principles, and to certain ends; because all this is matter of undoubted experience, acknowledged by all, and what every man may, every mo¬ ment, be conscious of And from hence it follows, that ne¬ cessity, alone and of itself, is in no sort an account of the constitution of nature, and how things came to he and to con¬ tinue as they are ; but only an account of this circumstance relating to their origin and continuance, that they could not have been otherwise than they are and have been. The as¬ sertion, that every thing is by necessity of nature, is not an answer to the question, Whether the world came into being as it is by an intelligent Agent forming it thus, or not; but to quite another question, Whether it came into being as it is, in that way and manner which we call necessarily^ or in that way and manner which we call freely. For, suppose farther, that one, who was a fatalist, and one, who kept to his natural sense of things, and believed himself a free agent, were disputing together, and vindicating their respective opinions, and they should happen to instance in a house, they would agree that it was built by an architect. Their difference concerning necessity and freedom, would occasion no difference of judgment concerning this, but only concern¬ ing another matter, whether the architect built it necessarily or freely. Suppose, then, they should proceed to inquire, concerning the constitution of nature ; in a lax way of speak¬ ing, one of them might sa^q it was by necessity, and the other by freedom; but, if they had any meaning to their words, as the latter must mean a free agent, so the former must at length be reduced to mean an agent, whether he would say one or more, acting by necessity ; for abstract no¬ tions can do nothing. Indeed, we ascribe to God a neces¬ sary existence, uncaused by any agent. For we find with¬ in ourselves the idea of infinity, i. e. immensity and eternity, impossible, even in imagination, to be removed out of being. We seem to discern intuitively, that there must, and cannot but be, somewhat, external to ourselves, answering this idea. 112 OP THE OPINION OF NECESSITY, [PART I* or the archetype of it. And from hence (for this abstract^ as much as any other, implies a concrete) we conclude, that there is, and cannot but be, an infinite and immense eternal Being existing prior to all design contributing to his existence, and exclusive of it. And, from the scantiness of language, a manner of speaking has been introduced, that necessity is the foundation, the reason, the account of the existence of God. But it is not alledged, nor can it be at all intended, that every thing exists as it does by this kind of necessity a necessity antecedent in nature to design ; it cannot, I say,* be meant, that every thing exists as it does, by this kind of necessity, upon several accounts ; and particularly, because it is admitted, that design in the actions of men, contributes to many alterations in nature. For, if any deny this, I shall not pretend to reason with them. From these things it follows, first, That when a fatalist asserts that every thing is hy necessity, he must mean, hy an agent acting necessarily; he must, I say, mean this ; for I am very sensible he would not choose to mean it. And, secondly^ That the necessity, by which such an agent is sup¬ posed to act, does not exclude intelligence and design. So that, were the system of fatality admitted, it would just as much account for the formation of the world, as for the struc¬ ture of a house, and no more. Necessity as much requires and supposes a necessary agent, as freedom requires and • supposes a free agent to be the former of the world. And the appearance of design and of final causes in the constitu¬ tion of nature, as really prove this acting agent to be an in¬ telligent designer, or to act from choice, upon the scheme of necessity, supposed possible, as upon that of freedom. It appearing thus, that the notion of necessity does not destroy the proof, that there is an intelligent Author of nature and natural Governor of the world, the present question which the analogy before mentioned suggests, and which, I think, it will answer, is this; whether the opinion of necessity, suppose consistent with possibility, with the constitution of the world, and the natural government which we experi¬ ence exercised over it, destroys all reasonable ground of be¬ lief, that we are in a state of religion ; or whether that opin¬ ion be reconcilable with religion, with the system and the proof of it. Suppose, then, a fatalist to educate any one, from his CHAP. VI.] AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE. 113 his youth up in his own principles ; that the child should rea> Bon upon them, and conclude, that since he cannot possibly beha^m otherwise than he does, he is not a subject of blame or commendation, nor can deserve to be rewarded or punish¬ ed ; imagine him to eradicate the very perceptions of blame and commendation out of his mind, by means of this system ; to form his temper, and character, and behaviour to it; and from it to judge of the treatment he was to expect, say, from reasonable men, upon his coming abroad into the world, as the fatalist judges from this system, what he is to expect from the Author of nature, and with regard to a future state ; T cannot forbear stopping here to ask, whether any one of common sense would think fit, that a child should be put upon these speculations, and be left to apply them to prac¬ tice 7 and a man has little pretence to reason, who is not sensible that We are all children in speculations of this kind. However, the child would doubtless be highly delighted to find himself freed from the restraints of fear and shame, with which his play-fellows were fettered and embarrassed ; and highly conceited in his superior knowledge, so far beyond his years. But conceit and X^anity would be the least bad part of the influence which these principles must have, when thus reasoned and acted upon, during the course of his edu¬ cation. He must either be allowed to go on, and be the plague of all about him, and himself too, even to his own destruction, or else correction must be continually made use of, to supply the want of those natural perceptions of blame and commendation, which we have supposed to be removed, and to give him a practical impression of what he had rea¬ soned himself out of the belief of, that he was, in fact, an accountable child, and to be punished for doing what he was forbid. It is therefore in reality impossible, but that the cor¬ rection wihich he must meet with, in the course of his edu¬ cation, must convince him, that if the scheme he was in¬ structed in were not false, yet that he reasoned inconclusive¬ ly upon it, and, somehow or other, misapplied it to practice and common life ; as what the fatalist experiences of the conduct of Providence at present, ought in all reason, to con¬ vince him, that this scheme is misapplied, when applied to tile subject of religion. But, supposing the child’s tem¬ per could remain still formed to the system, and his expecta¬ tion of the treatment he was to have in the world be regula- 114 OF THE OPINION OF NECESSITY, [PART. 1. ted by it, so as to expect that no reasonable man would blame or punish him for any thing which he should do, because he could not help doing it; upon this supposition, it is mani¬ fest he would, upon his coming abroad into the world, be in¬ supportable to society, and the treatment which he would receive from it, would render it so to him ; and he could not fail of doing somewhat very soon, for w^hich he would be de¬ livered over into the hands of civil justice: and thus, in the end, he would be convinced of the obligations he was under to his wise instructer. Or suppose this scheme of fatality, in any other way, applied to practice, such practical appli¬ cation of it will be found equally absurd, equally fallacious in a practical sense. For instance, that if a man be destined to live such a time, he shall live to it, though he take no care of his own preservation ; or if he be destined to die be¬ fore that time, no care can prevent it; therefore, all care about preserving one’s life is to be neglected : which is the fallacy instanced in by the ancients. But now, on the con¬ trary, none of these practical absurdities can be drawn, from reasoning upon the supposition, that w’e are free; but all such reasoning, with regard to the common affairs of life, is justified by experience. And, therefore, though it were ad¬ mitted that this opinion of necessity were speculatively true, yet, with regard to practice, it is as if it were false, so far as our experience reaches ; that is, to the whole of our present life. For, the constitution of the present world, and the con dition in which we are actually placed, is as if we were free. And it may perhaps justly be concluded, that .since the whole process of action, through every step of it, suspense, delibe¬ ration, inclining one way, determining, and at last doing as we determine, is as if w^ere free, therefore we are so. But the thing here insisted upon is, that under the present na¬ tural government of the world, we find we are treated and dealt with as if we were free, prior to all consideration wheth¬ er we are or not. Were this opinion therefore, of necessity, admitted to be ever so true, yet such is in fact our condition and the natural course of things, that, whenever we apply it to life and practice, this application of it always misleads us, and cannot but mislead us, in a most dreadful manner, with regard to our present interest. And how can people think themselves so very secure then, that the same appli¬ cation of the same opinion may not mislead them also in some analogous manner, with respect to a future, a more general, and more important interest ? For, religion being CHAP. VI.] AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE. 115 a practical subject, and the analogy of nature showing us, that we have not faculties to apply this opinion, were it a true one, to practical subjects ; whenever we do apply it to the subject of religion, and then conclude, that we are free from its obligations, it is plain this conclusion cannot be de¬ pended upon. There will still remain just reason to think, whatever appearances are, that we deceive ourselves; in somewhat of a like manner as when people fancy they can draw contradictory conclusions from the idea of infinity. From these things together, the attentive reader will see, it follows, that if, upon supposition of freedom, the evidence of religion be conclusive, it remains so, upon supposition of necessity ; because the notion of necessity is not applica¬ ble to practical subjects ; e. with respect to then.', is as if it were not true. Nor does this contain any reflection upon reason, but only upon what is unreasonable. For, to pre¬ tend to act upon reason, in opposition to practical principles which the Author of our nature gave us to act upon, and to pretend to apply our reason to subjects with regard to which our own short views, and even our experience, will show us it cannot be depended upon,—and such, at best, the subject of necessity must be,—this is vanity, conceit, and unrea¬ sonableness. But this is not all. For we find within ourselves a will and are conscious of a character. Now, if this, in us, be reconcilable with fate, it is reconcilable with it in the Author of nature. And, besides, natural government and final causes imply a character and a will in the Governor and Designer a will concerning the creatuies whom he gov¬ erns. The Author of nature, then, being certainly of some character or other, notwithstanding necessity, it is evident this necessity is as reconcilable with the particular character of benevolence, veracity and justice, in him, which attri¬ butes are the foundation of religion, as with any other char¬ acter ; since we find this necessity no more hinders men from being benevolent than cruel; true, than faithless ; just, than unjust, or, if the fatalist pleases, what we call unjust. For it is said indeed, that what, upon supposition of freedom, would be just punishment, upon supposition of necessity, becomes manifestly unjust; because it is punishment inflic- * By icill and character is meant that, which, in speaking of men, we should express, not only by these words, but also by the words temper, taste, dispositiorts, practical principles ; that whole frame of mind, Jh am whence we act in one manner rather than another. 116 OP THE OPINION OF NECESSITY, [PART I- tccl for doing that which persons could not avoid doing. Aa if the necessity, which is supposed to destroy the injustice of murder, for instance, would not also d-estroy the injustice of punishing it. However, as little to the purpose as this objection is in itself, it is very much to the purpose to observe from it, how the notions of justice and injustice remain, even whilst we endeavour to suppose them removed ; how they force themselves upon the mind, even whilst we are making suppositions destructive of them : for there is not, perhaps, a man in the world, but would be ready to make this objection at first thought. But though it is most evident, that universal necessity, if it be reconcilable with any thing, is reconcilable with that character in the Author of nature, which is the foundation of religion ; ‘yet, does it not plainly destroy the proof, that he is of that character, and consequently the proof of reli¬ gion V By no means. For we find, that happiness and misery are not our fate, in any such sense as not to be the consequences of our behaviour, but that they are the conse¬ quences of it.* We find God exercises the same kind of government over us, with that which a father exercises over his children, and a civil magistrate over his shbjects. Now, whatever becomes of abstract questions concerning liberty and necessity, it evidently appears to us, that veracity and justice must be the natural rule and measure of exercising this authority, or government, to a Being, who can have no competitions, or interfering of interests, with his creatures and his subjects, ■< But as the doctrine of liberty, though we experience its truth, maybe perplexed with difficulties which run up into the most abstruse of all speculations, and as the opinion of necessity seems to be the very basis upon which infidelity grounds itself, it may be of some use to offer a more parti¬ cular proof of the obligations of religion, which may dis¬ tinctly be shown not to be destroyed by this opinion. The^proof, from final causes, of an intelligent Author of nature, is not affected by the opinion of necessity ; suppo¬ sing necessity a thing possible in itself, and reconcilable with the constitution of tilings. And it is a matter of fact, independent on this or any other speculation, that he gov¬ erns the world by the method of rewards and punish mentsand also that he hath given us a moral faculty, bj; * Chap. 2. X Chap. 2. CHAP. VI.] AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE. 117 which we distinguish between actions, and approve some as virtuous and of good desert, and disapprove others as vicious and of ill desert.* Now, this moral discernment implies, in the notion of it, a rule of action, and a rule of a very pecu¬ liar kind; for it carries in it authority and a right of direc tion; authority in such a sense, as that we cannot depart from it without being self-condemned.f And that the dic¬ tates of this moral faculty, which are by nature a rule to us, are moreover the laws of God, laws in a sense including sanctions maybe thus proved. Consciousness of a rule or g^’ide of action, in creatures who are capable of considering it as given them by their Maker, not only raises immediately a sense of duty, but also a sense of security in following it, and of danger in deviating from it. A direction of the Au¬ thor of nature, given to creatures capable of looking upon it as such, is plainly a command from him ; and a command from him necessarily includes in it, at least, an implicit pro¬ mise in case of obedience, or threatening, in case of disobe¬ dience. But then the sense of perception of good and ill desert,J which is contained in the moral discernment, ren¬ ders the sanction explicit, and makes it appear, as one may say, expressed. For, since his method of government is to reward and punish actions, his having annexed to some actions an inseperable sense of good desert, and to others of ill, this surely amounts to declaring upon whom his punish¬ ments shall be inflicted, and his rewards be bestowed. For he must have given us this discernment and sense of things as a presentiment of what is to be hereafter ; that is by way of information beforehand, what we are finally to expect in his world. There is, then, most evident ground to think, that the government of God, upon the whole, will be found to correspond to the nature which he has given us ; and that, in the upshot and issue of things, happiness and mise¬ ry shall, in fact and event, be made to follow virtue and vice respectively; as he has already, in so peculiar a manner, associated the ideas of them in our minds. And from hence might easily be deduced the obligations of religious worship, were it only to be considered as a means of preserving upon our minds a sense of this moral government of God, and securing our obedience to it; which yet is an extremely im¬ perfect view of that most important duty. * Dissertation 2. t Sermon 2d at the Rolls. t Dissertation 2. 118 OF THE OPINION OF NECESSITY, [PART I. Now, I saj, no objection from necessity can lie against this general proof of religion : none against the proposition reasoned upon, that we have such a moral faculty and dis¬ cernment ; because this is a mere matter of fact, a thing of experience, that human kind is thus constituted : none against the conclusion ; because it is immediate, and wholly from this fact. For the conclusion, that God will finally re¬ ward the righteous and punish the wicked, is not here drawm, from its appearing to us fit that he should^ but from its ap¬ pearing, that he has told us he will. And this he hath cer¬ tainly told us, in the promise and threatening, which, it hath been observed, the notion of a command implies, and the sense of good and ill desert, which he has given us, more distinctly expresses. 'And this reasoning from fact is confir¬ med, and, in some degree, even verified, by other facts ; by the natural tendencies of virtue and of vice ; and by this, that God, in the natural course of his providence, punishes vicious actions, as mischievous to society ; and also vicious actions, as such, in the strictest sense. So that the gene¬ ral proof of religion is unanswerably real, even upon the wild supposition which we are arguing upon. It must likewise be observed farther, that natural religion hath, besides this, an external evidence, which the doctrine of necessity, if it could be true, would not affect.- For, sup¬ pose a person, by the observations and reasoning above, or by any other, convinced of the truth of religion ; that there is a God, who made the world, who is the moral Governor and Judge of mankind, and will, upon the whole, deal with every one according to his works ; I say, suppose a person convinced of this by reason, but to know nothing at all of * However, I am far from intending to deny, that the will of God is de¬ termined by what is fit, by the right and reason of the case; though one chooses to decline matters of such abstract speculation, and to sj)eak with caution when one does speak of them. But if it be intelligible to say, that it is Jit and reasonable for every one to consult his own happiness^ then fitness of action, or the right and reason of the case, is an intelligi¬ ble manner of speaking. And it seems as inconceivable, to suppose God to approve one course of action, or one end, preferable to another, which yet his acting at all from design implies that he docs, without supposing somewhat pnor in that end, to be the ground of the preference; as to supi pose him to discern an abstract proposition to be true, without supposing somewhat prior in it to be the ground of the discernment. It doth not, therefore, appear, that mor.al right is any more relative to perception than abstract truth is; or that it is any more improper to speak of the fitnesa and rightness of actions and ends, as founded in the nature of things, than to speak of abstract truth, as thus founded. CHAP. VI.] AS INFLUENCING PRACTICE. 119 B.ntiqmty or the present state of mankind, it would be nat ural for such an one to be inquisitive, what was the history of this system of doctrine ; at what time, and in what man¬ ner, it came first into the world ; and whether it were believ¬ ed by any considerable part of it. And were he upon in¬ quiry to find, that a particular person, in a late age, first of all proposed it as a deduction of reason, and that mankind were before wholly ignorant of it; then though its evidence from reason woulct remain, there would be no additional jdi'O- bability of its truth, from the account of its discovery. But instead of this being the fact of thacase, on the contrary, he would find what could not but afford him a very strong con¬ firmation of its truth: Firsts That somewhat of this system, with more or fewer additions and alterations, hath been pro¬ fessed in all ages and countries of which we have any cer¬ tain information relating to this matter. Secondly^ That it is certain historical fact, so far as we can trace things up, that this whole system of belief, that there is one God, the Crea¬ tor and moral Governor of the world, and that mankind is in a state of religion, was received in the first ages. And, third¬ ly^ That as there is no hint or intimation in history, that this system was first reasoned out; so there is express historical or traditional evidence, as ancient as history, that it was taught first by revelation. Now, these things must be al¬ lowed to be of great weight. The first of them, general consent) shows this system to be conformable to the common sense of mankind. The second, namely, that religion was believed in the first ages of the world, especially as it does not appear that there were then any superstitious or false addi¬ tions to it, cannot but be a farther confirmation of its truth. For it is a proof of this alternative ; either that it came into the world by relation, or that it is natural, obvious, and forces it¬ self upon the mind. The former of these is the conclusion of learned men. And whoever will consider, how unapt for speculation rude and uncultivated minds are, will, perhaps from hence alone, be strongly inclined to believe it the truth. And as it is shown in the second part of this Treatise, that there is nothing of such peculiar presumption against a reve¬ lation in the begining of the world, as there is supposed to be against subsequent ones ; a sceptic could not, I think, give any account, which would appear more probable even to himself, of the early pretences to revelation, than by sup- ♦ Chap. 2. 120 OF THE OPJMON OF NECESSITY, [PART I. posing some real original one, from whence they were copi* ed. And the third thing above mentioned, that there is ex¬ press historical or traditional evidence, as ancient as history, of the system of religion being taught mankind by revela¬ tion ; this must be admitted as some degree of real proof, that it was so taught. For why should not the most ancient tradition be admitted as some additional proof of a fact, against whi^h there is no presumption.? And this proof is mentioned nere, because it has its weight to show, that reli¬ gion came into the world by revelation prior to all considera¬ tion of the proper authority of any book supposed to con¬ tain it; and even prior to all consideration, whether the reve¬ lation itself be uncorruptly handed down and related, or mixed and darkened with fables. Thus the historical ac¬ count which we have, of the origin of religion, taking in all circumstances, is a real confirmation of its truth, no waj?" af¬ fected by the opinion of necessity. And the external evi¬ dence, even of natural religion, is by no means inconsidera¬ ble. > But it is carefully to be observed, and ought to be recollec¬ ted after all proofs of virtue and religion, which are only general, that as speculative reasons may be neglected, pre¬ judiced, and deceived, so also may our moral understanding be impaired and perverted, and4he dictates of it not impar¬ tially attended to. This, indeed, proves nothing against the reality of our speculative or practical faculties of perception; against their -being intended by nature to inform us in the theory of things, and instruct us how we are to behave, ana what we are to expect, in consequence of our behaviour.— Yet our liableness, in the degree we are liable, to prejudice and perversion, is a most serious admonition to us to be upon our guard, with respect to what is of such consequence, as our determinations concerning virtue and religion ; and par¬ ticularly, not to take custom, and fashion, and slight notions of honor, or imaginations of present ease, use, and conveni¬ ence to mankind, for the only moral rule.* The foregoing observations, drawn from the nature of the thing, ‘and the history of religion, amount, when taken to¬ gether, to a real practical proof of it, not to be confuted ; such a proof as, considering the infinite importance of the thing, I apprehend, would be admitted fully sufficient, in reason, to influence the actions of men, who act upon * Dissertation 2. CHAP. VI.] AS INFLUENCING PEaCTICE. 121 thought and reflection; if it were admitted that there is no proof of the contrary. But it may be said ; ‘ There are many probabilities, which cannot indeed be confuted, i. e. shown to be no probabilities, and yet may be overballanced by greater probabilities on the other side; much more by demonstration. And there is no occasion to object against particular arguments alleged for an opinion, when the opin¬ ion itself may be clearly shown to be false, without meddling with such arguments at all, but leaving them just as they are. Now, the method of government by rewards and punishments, and especially rewarding and punishing good and ill desert, as such, respectively, must go upon supposi¬ tion, that we are free, and not necessary agents. And it is incredible, that the Author of nature, should govern us up¬ on a supposition as true, which he knows to be false ; and therefore absurd to think, he will reward or punish us for our actions hereafter; especially that he will do it under the notion, that they are of good or ill desert.’ Here, then, the matter is brought to a point. And the answer to all this is full, and not be evaded ; that the whole constitution and course of things, the whole analogy of providence shows, beyond possibility of doubt, that the conclusion from this reasoning is false, wherever the fallacy lies. The doctrine of freedom, indeed, clearly shows where ; in supposing our¬ selves necessary, when in truth we are free agents. But, upon the supposition of necessity, the fallacy lies in taking for granted that it is incredible necessary agents should be rewarded and punished. But that, somehow or other, the conclusion now mentioned is false, is most ceitain. For it is fact, that God does govern even brute creatures by the method of rewards and punishments, in the natuial course of things. And men are rewarded and punished for their actions, punished for actions mischievous to society as being so, punished for vicious actions as such, by the natural in¬ strumentality of each other, under the present conduct of Providence. Nay, even the affection of gratitude, and the passion of resentment, and the rewards and punishments (bllowing from them, which in general are to be considered as natural, i. e. from the Author of nature; these rewards and punishments, being naturally annexed to actions con¬ sidered as implying good intention and good desert, ill inten¬ tion andiii desert; these natural rewards and punishments, 6 122 OP THE OPINION OF NECESSITY, [PART I. I say, are as much a contradiction to the conclusion above, and show its falsehood, as a more exact and complete re¬ warding and punishing of good and ill desert, as such. So that, if it be incredible that necessary agents should be thus rewarded and punished, then men are not necessary, but free; since it is matter of fact that they are thus rewarded and punished. But if, on the contrary, which is the suppo sition we have been arguing upon, it be insisted, that men are necessary agents, then there is nothing incredible in the farther supposition of necessary agents being thus reward¬ ed and punished ; since we ourselves are thus dealt with. From the whole, therefore, it must follow, that a ncces.si- ty supposed possible, and reconcilable with the constitution of things, does in no sort prove, that the Author of nature will not, nor destroy the proof that he will, finally and upon the whole, in his eternal government, render his creatures happy or miserable, by some means or other, as they behave' well or ill. Or, to express this conclusion in words con¬ formable to the title of the chapter, the analogy of nature shows us, that the opinion of necessity, considered as jaac- tical, is false. And if necessity,,upon the supposition above mentioned, doth not destroy the proof of natural religion, it evidently makes no alteration in the proof of revealed. From these things, likewise, we may learn in what sense to understand that general assertion, that the opinion of ne¬ cessity is essentially destiTictive of all religion. Firsts In a practical sense ; that by this notion atheistical men pretend to satisfy and encourage themselves in vice, and justiiy to others their disregard to all religion. And, Secondly, In the strictest sense ; that it is a contradiction to the whole consti¬ tution of nature, and to what we may every moment expe¬ rience in ourselves, and so overturns every thing. But by no means is this assertion to be understood, as if necessity, supposing it could possibly be reconciled with the constitution of things, and with what we experience, were not also recon¬ cilable with religion ; for upon this supposition it demonstra¬ bly is so. CHAP VII. A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 123 V CHAPTER VII. Of the Government of God^ considered as a Scheme^ or Constitution^ imperfectly comprehended. Though it be, as it cannot but be, acknowledged, that the analogy of nature gives a strong credibility to the gene¬ ral doctrine of religion, and to the several particular things contained in it, considered as so many matters of fact; and likewise, that it shows this credibility not to be destroyed by any notions of necessity ; yet still, objections may be insis¬ ted upon against the wisdom, equity, and goodness of the divine government, implied in the notion of religion, and against the method by which this government is conducted, to which objections analogy can be no; direct answer. For the credibility, or the certain truth, of a matter of fact, does not immediately prove any thing concerning the wisdom or goodness of it; and analogy can do no more, immediate¬ ly or directly, than show such and such things to be true or credible, considered only as matters of fact. But, still, if, upon supposition of a moral constitution of nature and a moral government over it, analogy suggests and makes it credible, that this government must be a scheme, system, or constitution of government, as distinguished from a number of single unconnected acts of distributive justice and good¬ ness ; and likewise, that it must be a scheme, so imperfectly comprehended, and of such a sort in other respects, as to afford a direct general answer to all objections against the justice and goodness of it; then analogy is, remotely, of great service in answ^ering those objections, both by sug¬ gesting the answer, and showing it to be a credible one. Now, this, upon inquiry, will be found to be the case. For, first Upon supposition that God exercises a moral gov¬ ernment over the world, the analogy of his natural govern¬ ment suggests, and makes it credible, that his moral govern- 124 the government of-god, [fart i. ment must be a scheme quite beyond our comprehension; and this affords a general answer to all objections against the justice and goodness of it. And, secondly^ A more distinct observation of some particular things contained in God’s scheme of natural government, the like things being suppos¬ ed, by analogy, to be contained in his moral government, will farther show how little weight is to be laid upon these objec¬ tions. 1. Upon supposition that God exercises a moral govern¬ ment over the world, the analogy of his natural government suggests and makes it credible, that his moral government must be a scheme quite beyond our comprehension ; and this affords a general answer to all objections against the jus¬ tice and goodness of it. It is most obvious, analogy renders it highly credible, that upon supposition of a moral govern¬ ment, it must be a scheme,—for the world, and the whole natural government of it, appears to be so—to be a scheme, system, or constitution, whose parts correspond to each oth¬ er, and to a whole, as really as any work of art, or as any particular model of a civil constitution, and government. In this great scheme of the natural world, individuals have va¬ rious peculiar relations to other individuals of their own spe¬ cies. And whole species are, we find, variously related to other species, upon this earth. * Nor do we know how much farther these kind of relations may extend. And, as there is not any action, or natural event, which we are acquainted with, so single and unconnected as not to have a respect to some other actions and events, so, possibly, each of them, when it has not an immediate, may yet have a remote, nat¬ ural relation to other actions and events, much beyond the compass of this present world. There seem.s indeed, noth¬ ing from whence we can so much as make a conjecture, whether all creatures, actions, and events throughout the whole of nature, have relations to each other. But, as it is obvious That all events have future unknown consequences, so, if v/e trace any, as far as we can go, into what is connec¬ ted with it, we shall find, that if such event were not con¬ nected with somewhat farther, in nature unknown to us, somewhat both past and present, such event could not possi¬ bly have been at all. Nor can we give the whole account of any one thing whatever ; of all its causes, ends, and ne¬ cessary adjuncts; those adjuncts, I mean, without which it could not have been. By this most astonishing connexion, these reciprocal correspondences and mutual relations, every CHAP VII.] A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 125 thing which we see in the course of nature, is actually brought about. And things seemingly the most insignificant imaginable, are perpetually observed to be necessary condi¬ tions to other things of the greatest importance ; so that any one thing whatever may, for aught we know to the contra¬ ry, be a necessary condition to any other. The natural world, then, and natural government of it, being such an in¬ comprehensible scheme ; so incomprehensible, that a man must really, in the literal sense, know nothing at all, who is not sensible of his ignorance in it: this immediately suggests, and strongly shows the credibility, that the moral world and government of it may be so too. Indeed, the natural and moral constitution and government of the world are so con¬ nected, as to make up together but one scheme ; and it is highly probable, that the first is formed and carried on mere¬ ly in subserviency to the latter, as the vegetable world is for the animal, and organized bodies for minds. But the tl ing intended here is, without inquiring how far the administra¬ tion of the natural world is subordinate to that of the moral, only to observe the credibility, that one should be analagous or similar to the other ; that, therefore, every act of divine justice and goodness may be supposed to look much beyond itself and its immediate object; may have some reference to other parts of God’s moral administration, and to a general moral plan ; and that every circumstance of this his moral government may be adjusted beforehand with a view to the whole of it. Thus, for example : the determined length of time, and the degrees and ways in which virtue is to remain in a state of warfare and discipline, and in which wickedness is permitted to have its progress ; the times appointed for the execution of justice ; the appointed instruments of it; the kinds of rewards and punishments, and the manners of their distribution; all particular instances of divine justice and goodness, and every circumstance of them, may have such respects to each other, as to make up altogether a whole, connected and related in all its parts ; a scheme, or system, which is as properly one as the natural world is, and of the like kind. And supposing this to be the case, it is most evi¬ dent that we are not competent judges of this scheme, from the small parts of it which come within our view in the pre¬ sent life ; and therefore no objections against any of these parts can be insisted upon by reasonable men. This our ignorance, and the consequence here drawn from It; are universaliy acknowledged upon other occasions; and, 120 THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD, [PART I though scarce denied, yet are universally forgot, when persons come to argue against religion. And it is not perhaps easy, even for the most reasonable men, al¬ ways to bear in mind the degree of our ignorance, and make due allowances for it. Upon these accounts, it may not be useless to go on a little farther, in order to show more distinctly, how just an answer our ignorance is, to ob¬ jections against the scheme of Providence. Suppose, then, a person boldly to assert, that the things complained of, the origin and continuance of evil, might easily have been pre¬ vented by repeated interpositions ; * interpositions so guard¬ ed and circumstanced, as would prelude all mischief arising from them : or, if this were impracticable, that a scheme of government is itself an imperfection ; since more good might have been produced without any scheme, system, or consti¬ tution at all, by continued single unrelated acts of distribu¬ tive justice and goodness, because these would have occa¬ sioned no irregularities : and farther than this, it is presum¬ ed, the objections will not be carried. Yet the answer is ob¬ vious ; that, were these assertions true, still the observations above, concerning our ignorance in the scheme of divine government, and the consequence drawn from it, would hold in great measure, enough to vindicate religion against all objections from the disorders of the present state. Were these assertions true, yet the government'of the world might be just and good notwithstanding; for, at the most, they would infer nothing more than that it might have been bet¬ ter. But, indeed, they are mere arbitrarj?-assertions.; no man being sufficient!}'’ acquainted with the possibilities of things, to bring an}'’ proof of them to the lowest degree of probability. For, however possible what is asserted may seem, yet many instances may be alledged, in things much less out of our reach, of suppositions absolutely impossible and reducible to the most palpable self-contradictions, which not every one by any means could perceive to be such, nor per¬ haps any one at first sight suspect. From these things it is easy to see distinctly, how our ignorance, as it is the com¬ mon, is really a satisfactory answer to all objections against the justice and goodness of Providence. If a man, contem¬ plating any one providential dispensation, which had no re¬ lation to any others, should object, that he discerned in it 8 disregard to justice, or a deficiency of goodness, nothing CHAP. VII.] A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 127 would be less an answer to such objection, than our igno¬ rance in other parts of Providence, or in the possibilities of things, no way related to what he was contemplating. But when we know not but the parts objected against may be relative to other parts unknown to us, and when we are un¬ acquainted with what is, in the nature of the thing, practi¬ cable in the case before us, then our ignorance is a satisfac¬ tory answer; because some unknown relation, or some un¬ known impossibility, may render jvhat is objected against just and good ; nay, good in the highest practical degree. II. And how little weight is to be laid upon such objec¬ tions will farther appear, by a more distinct observation of some particular things contained in the natural government of God, the like to which may be supposed from analogy, to be contained in his mural government. Firsts As, in the scheme of the natural world, no ends ap¬ pear to be accomplished without means ; so we find that means very undesirable often conduce to bring about ends in such a measure desirable, as greatly to over-balance the disagreeableness of the means. And in cases where such means are conducive to such ends, it is not reason, but ex¬ perience, which shows us that they are thus conducive. Experience also shows many means to be conducive and necessary to accomplish ends, which means, before experi¬ ence, we should have thought would have had even a con¬ trary tendency. Now, from these observations relating to the natural scheme of the world, the moral being supposed analogous to it, arises a great credibility, that the putting our misery in each other’s power to the degree it is, and making men liable to vice to the degree we are; and, in general, that those things which are objected against the moral scheme of Providence may be, upon the whole, friend¬ ly and assistant to virtue, and productive of an over balance of happiness ; i. e. the things objected against may be means by which an over-balance of good will, in the end, be found produced. And, from the same observations, it appears to be no presumption against this, that we do not, if indeed we do not, see those means to have any such tendency, or that they seem to us to have a contrary one. Thus, those things whicn we call irregularities, may not be so at all; because they may be means of accomplishing wise and good ends more considerable. And it may be added, as above, that they may also be the only means by which these wise and good ends are capable of being accomplished. 123 THE GOVERNMENT OF GOD [part. I. After these observations it may he proper to add, in order to obviate an absurd and wicked conclusion from any of them, that though the constitution of our nature, from whence we are capable of vice and misery, may, as it undoubtedly does, contribute to the perfection and happiness of the world ; and though the actual permission of evil may be beneficial to it, (z. e. it would have been more mischievous, not that a wicked person had himself abstained from his own wicked¬ ness, but that any one had forcibly prevented it, than that it was permitted;) yet, notwithstanding, it might have been much better for the world if this very evil had never been done. Nay, it is most clearly conceivable, that the very commission of wickedness may be beneficial to the world, and yet that it would be infinitely more beneficial for men to refrain from it. For thus, in the wise and good constitution of the natural world, there are disorders which bring their own cures ; diseases which are themselves remedies. Many a man would have died, had it not been for the gout or fever ; yet it would be thought madness to assert, that sickness is a better or more perfect state than' health ; though the like, with regard to the moral world, has been asserted. But, Secondly^ The natural government of the v/orld is carried on by general laws. For this there may be wise and good reasons ; the wisest and best, for aught we know to the con¬ trary. And that there are such reasons, is suggested to our thoughts by the analogy of nature ; by our being made to experience good ends to be accomplished, as indeed all the good which we enjoy is accomplished, by this means, that the laws, by which the world is governed, are general. For we have scarce aii}^ kind of enjoyments, but what we are, in some way or other, instrumental in procuring ourselves, by acting in a manner which we foresee likely to procure them: now this foresight could not be at all, were not the government of the world carried on bj^ general laws. And though, for aught we know to the contrary, every single case may be, at length, found to have been provided for even by these, yet to prevent all irregularities, or remedy them as they arise, by the wisest and best general laws, may be im¬ possible in the nature of things, as we see it is absolutely impossible in civil government. But then we are ready to think, that the constitution of nature remaining as it is, and the course of things being permitted to go on, ir other re¬ spects, as it does, there might be interpositions to prevent irregularities, though they could not have been prevented oi CHAP. VII.] A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 129 remedied by any general laws. And there would indeed be reason to wish—which, by the way, is very different from a right to claim—that all irregularities were prevented or remedied by present interpositions, if these interpositions would have no other effect than this. But it is plain they would have some visible and immediate bad effects ; for in¬ stance, they would encourage idleness and negligence, and they would render doubtful the natural rule of life, which is ascertained by this very thing, that the course of the world is carried on by general laws. And farther, it is certain they would have distant effects, and very great ones too, by means of the wonderful connexions before mentioned. So that we cannot so much as guess, what would be the whole result of the interpositions desired. It may be said, any bad result might be prevented by farther interpositions, whenever there was occasion for them ; but this again is talking quite at random, and in the dark. Upon the whole, then, we see wise reasons whj?- the course of the world should be carried on by general laws, and good ends accomplished by this means, and, for aught we know, there may be the wisest reasons for it, and the best ends accomplished by it. We have no ground to believe, that all irregularities could be remedied as they arise, or could have been precluded by gene¬ ral laws. We find that interpositions would produce evil, and prevent good; and, for aught we know, they would produce greater evil than they would prevent, and prevent greater good than they would produce. And if this be the case, then, the not interposing is so far from being a ground of complaint, that it is an instance of goodness. This is in¬ telligible and sufficient; and going farther seems beyond the utmost reach of our faculties. But it may be said, that ‘ after all, these supposed im¬ possibilities and relations are what^we are unacquainted with ; and we must judge of religion, as of other things, by what we do know, and look upon the rest as nothing : or, however, that the answers here given to what is objected against religion, may equally be made use of to invalidate the proofs of it, since their stress lies so very much upon our ignorance.’ But, Fzrs^, Though total ignorance in any matter does indeed equally destroy, or rather preclude, all proof concerning it, and objections against it, yet partial ignorance does not. 6* 130 the government of god, [part I. For we may in any degree be convinced, that a person is of such a character, and consequently will pursue such ends, though we are greatly ignorant what is the proper way of acting, ip order the most effectually to obtain those ends ; and in this case, objections against his manner of acting, as seemingly not conducive to obtain them, might be answer¬ ed by our ignorance, though the proof that such ends were intended, might not at all be invalidated by it. Thus, the proof of religion is a proof of the moral character of God, and, consequently, that his government is moral, and that every one, upon the whole, shall receive according to liLs deserts; a proof that this is the designed end of his gover- inent. But we are not competent judges what is the proper way of acting, in order the most effectually to accomplish this end. Therefore our ignorance is an answer to objec¬ tions against the conduct of Providence, in permitting irregu¬ larities, as seeming contradictory to this end. Now, since it is so obvious that our ignorance may be a satisfactory an¬ swer to objections against a thing, and yet not affect the proof of it; till it can be shown, it is frivolous to assert, that our ignorance invalidates the proof of rehgion, as it does the objections against it. Secondly, Suppose unknown impossibilities, and unknown relations, might justly be urged to invalidate the proof of re¬ ligion, as well as to'answer objections against it, and that, in consequence of this, the proof of it were doubtful; yet still, let the assertion be despised, or let it be ridiculed, it is undeniably true, that moral obligations would remain cer¬ tain, though it were not certain what would, upon the whole, be the consequences of observing or violating them. For these obligations arise immediately and necessarily from the judgment of our own mind, unless perverted, which we cannot violate without being self-condemned. And they would be certain, too, from considerations of interest. For, though it were doubtful what will be the future consequen¬ ces of virtue and vice, yet it is however credible, that they may have those consequences which religion teaches us they will; and this credibility is a certain obligation in point of prudence, to abstain from all wickedness, and to live in the conscientious practice of all that is good. But, Thirdly, The answers above given to the objections against religion, cannot equally be made use of to invahdate the CHAP. VII.] A SCHEME INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 131 proof of it. For, upon supposition that God exercises a moral government over the world, analogy does most strong¬ ly lead us to conclude, that this moral government must be a scheme, or constitution, beyond our comprehension. And a thousand particular analogies show us, that parts of such a scheme, from their relation to other parts, may conduce to accomplish ends, which we should have thought they had no tendency at all to accomplish ; nay, ends, which, before experience, we should have thought such parts were contra¬ dictory to, and had a tendency to prevent. And, therefore, all these analogies show, that the way of arguing made use of in objecting against religion, is delusive; because they show it is not at all incredible, that, could we comprehend the whole, we should find the permission of the disorders objected against, to be consistent with justice and goodness, and even to be instances of them. Now this is not applica¬ ble to the proof of religion, as it is to the objections against it; and therefore cannot invalidate that proof, as it does these objections. Lastly^ From the observations now made, it is easy to see, that the answers above given to the objections against Providence, though, in a general way of speaking, they may be said to be taken from our ignorance, yet are by no means taken merely from that, but from somewhat which analogy shows us concerning it. For analogy shows us positively, that our ignorance in the possibilities of things, and the vari¬ ous relations in nature, renders us incompetent judges, and leads us to false conclusions, in cases similar to this, in which we pretend to judge and to object. So that the things above insisted upon, are not mere suppositions of unknown impos- sibiliues and relations ; but they are suggested to our . thoughts, and even forced upon the observations of serious men, and rendered credible, too, by the analogy of nature. And, therefore, to take these things into the account, is to judge by experience, and what we do know ; and it is not judgmg so, to take no notice of them. ' r '• IVi t'^% t: r^.<- ■ i vi Tif.* *: '.; ',' • ,. i-i :M.r-.v ■- • ji- <.)'}’■• -I^ 'X‘. .*/ . V ■ ■' ■ t ^J(-. - - . J ^ ij ' «* .v^iv^ c %• •k*" , • • * • • > V. x^'K • ■ -. »r.' . trVj ?i ,<*. >'x ^1, * V •rr^-v' ♦ * > ■■An, f." • - j (, t--* iV -.rtf ^ 4- . - 41 ^ ^ i p^f ■'- ■ , * i-w.M '- > • _.t'., ^,. £■ ’!»-■ *1 .^■. . ! vA'.''r.-? *.-■ ^ * V ,''•‘j’l''.'' ■ ■> ; 'V'i >r’ !- ..'> . w'r ' ~T,t .■ > • ■ ; '■■ ' ;.#.}«■»■«• J* |,^ '» * ‘vi'.■- .»' Htli •. t • t ’^^■■■* 4- •€ . ;. . 1 ■\ti^'n ■ . ■ if'd riili ■' !.’t H- r r •- n ' . 5 ■ ;^.- . - ; ^ .y.r- , i; •> ' 1 ' :< A. . . • ^ '■ A j 4.: ■ t. ' ‘/•'T ■'llV ! .'•; ’ -^i * f* f it * ■i ^ .. . , . '■ •_• > ' ij ,}? f'-f- '■ 'Vv'! ' -v.' V •. .''^..>i.■/n^^ ' •:; • . ij.././ V ' ./ <••- -i. ’ •' .'-■•■ ■' * -5; /• 5\.' ,' ". . vr. ■ .-^ .. r4ri. ? '■>• 'vij V ’/.. - 1 r.‘y .< ■■' • . • • ' ■M - - ' ‘/■•j . 1 ■'“ >»- ,- '■*'L'j -,r« - «• «’kl •* >' k ' • 7. >v> ■- rJ/V v<- f ^ ;^' Ur,- -■■• ". ■ •• L;/ si; ,i> i>l •:' :. ViO'v .‘4 |m- 'ci, ■ t • •Jy ' '/ . ;f ■ .* (1 V* iu -V.iv^-i; I \ ’■ -i'-' • '■ .• • -f <' '• *. • ■• :. ^ •-■ . y..A'^'“'* '’•» < . r' ^ / I ■* ««»■ I'f.'ii.- "V, ' / ■* .. fv ‘j-LtlV. 1., *v /; .j •>■ . .;' y,4. ^i. ~i',7 ::.. /- .1- »' iQ }k ■ . J 1 I -y • . • . .i • .■* ‘‘ ■ » t ■' \. • ■■-/•' ■ ty*' fif ., .; • j * ♦ . ■ ' ./■ ^ r ♦ . > ^ *CVAt.1 ^•4 . .A f' 1 . . -» ^ 1 •“ CONCLUSIOJN. » X~ ‘ X The observations of the last chapter lead us to consider this little scene of human life, in which we are so busily en¬ gaged, as having reference, of some sort or other, to a much larger plan of things. Whether we are any way related to the more distant parts of the boundless universe into which we are brought, is altogether uncertain. But it is evident, that the course of things which comes within our view, is connected with somewhat past, present, and future beyond it. So that we are placed, as one may speak, in the mid¬ dle of a scheme, not a fixed, but a progressive one, every way incomprehensible ; incomprehensible, in a manner, equally with respect to what has been, what now is, and what shall be hereafter. And this scheme cannot but contain in it some¬ what as wonderful, and as much beyond our thought and conception,’!' as any thing in that of religion. For, will any man in his senses say, that it is less difficult to conceive how the world came to be, and continued as it is, without, than with, an intelligent Author and Governor of it % admitting an intelligent Governor of it, that there is some other rule of government more natural, and of easier conception, than that which we call moral ? Indeed, without an intelligent Au¬ thor and Governor of nature, no account at all can be given, how this universe, or the part of it particularly in which we are concerned, came to be, and the course of it to be carried, on, as it is ; nor any of its general end and design, without a mom] Governor of it. That there is an intelligent Author of nature and natural Governor of the world, is a principle gone upon in the foregoing treatise, as proved, and generally known and confessed to be proved. And the very notion of and intelligent Author of nature, proved by particular final T See Part ii chap, 2. 134 CONCLUSION. [part. I. causes, implies a will and a character. Now, as our whole nature, the nature which he has given us, leads us to con¬ clude his will and character to be moral, just, and good ; so we can scarce in imagination conceive, what it can be other¬ wise. However, in consequence of this his will and charac¬ ter, whatever it be, he formed the universe as it is, and car¬ ries on the course of it as he does, rather than in any other manner ; and has assigned to us, and to all living creatures, a part and a lot in it. Irrational creatures act this their part, and enjoy and undergo the pleasures and the pains allotted them, without any reflection. But one would think it im possible, that creatures endued with reason could avoid re¬ flecting sometimes upon all this ; reflecting, if not from whence we came, yet, at least, whither we are going, and what the mysterious scheme in the midst of which we find ourselves, will at length come out and produce ; a scheme in which it is certain we are highly interested, and in which we maybe interested even beyond conception. For many things prove it palpably absurd to conclude, that we shall cease to be at death. Particular analogies do most sensibly show us, that there is nothing to be thought strange in our being to exist in another state of life. And that we are now living beings, afibrds a strong probability that we shall con¬ tinue so ; unless there be some positive ground, and there is none from reason or analogy, to think death will destroy us. Were a persuasion of this kind ever so well grounded, there would, surely, be little reason to take pleasure in it. But, indeed, it can have no other ground than some such imagina¬ tion, as that of our gross bodies being ourselves ; which is contrary to experience. Experience, too, most clearly shows us the folly of concluding, from the body and the living agent affecting each other mutually, that the dissolution of the former is the destruction of the latter. And there are remark¬ able instances of their not affecting' each other, which lead us to a contrary conclusion. The supposition, then, which in all reason we are to go upon, is, that our living nature will continue after death. And it is infinitely unreasonable to form an institution of life, or to act upon any other suppo¬ sition. Now, all expectation of immortality, whether more or less certain, opens an unbounded prospect to our hopes and our fears; since we see the constitution of nature is such as to admit of misery, as well as to be productive of happi- PART. I.J CONCLUSION. 135 ness, and experience ourselves to partake of both in some degree ; and since we cannot but know what higher degrees of both we are capable of And there is no presumption against believing farther, that our future interest depends upon our present behaviour ; for we see our present interest doth; and that the happiness and misery, which are natural¬ ly annexed to our actions, very frequently do not foliov/ till long after the actions are done to which they are respective¬ ly annexed. So that, were speculation to leave us uncer¬ tain, whether it were likely that the Author of nature, in giving happiness and misery to his creatures, hath regard to their actions or not; yet, since we find by experience that he hath such regard, the whole sense of things v^hich he has given us, plainly leads us, at once, and without any elaborate inquiries, to think that it may, indeed must, be to good actions chiefly that he hath annexed happiness, and to bad actions misery ; or that he will, upon the whole, reward those who do well, and punish those who do evil. To con¬ firm this from the constitution of the world, it has been ob¬ served, that some sort of moral government is necessarily implied in that natural government of God which, we expe¬ rience ourselves under ; that good and bad actions, at pre¬ sent, are naturally rewarded and punished, not only as bene¬ ficial and mischievous to society, but also as virtuous and vicious ; and that there is, in the very nature of the thing, a tendency to their being rew arded and punished in a much higher degree than they are at present. And though this higher degree of distributive justice, which nature thus points out and leads towards, is prevented for a time from ta king place, it is by obstacles which the state of this world unhappily throws in its way, and which, therefore, are in their nature temporary. Now, as these things, in the natu¬ ral conduct of Providence, are observable on the side of vir¬ tue, so there is nothing to be set against them on the side of vice. A moral scheme of government, then, is visibly es¬ tablished, and in some degree carried into execution ; and this, together with the essential tendencies of virtue and vice duly considered, naturally raise in us an apprehension that it will be carried on farther towards perfection in a future state, and that every one shall there receive according to his deserts. And if this be so, then our future and general in¬ terest, under the moral government of God, is appointed to depend upon our behaviour, notwithstanding the difficulty which this may occasion of securing it, and the danger of lo- 130 CONCLUSION [part I. sing it; just in the same manner as our temporal interest, under his natural government, is appointed to depend upon our behaviour, notwithstanding the like difficulty and danger. For, from our original constitution, and that of the world which we inhabit, we are naturally trusted with ourselves, with our own conduct and our own interest. And from the same constitution of nature, especially joined with that course of things which is owing to men, we have, tempta¬ tions to be unfaithful in this trust, to forfeit this interest, to neglect it, and run ourselves into misery and ruin. From these temptations arise the difficulties of behaving so as to secure our temporal interest, and the'hazard of behaving so as to miscarry in it. There is, therefore, nothing incredible in supposing, there may be the like difficulty and hazard with regard to that chief and final good which religion lays before us. Indeed, the whole account, how it came to pass that we were placed in such a condition as this, must be be¬ yond our comprehension. But it is in part accounted for by what religion teaches us, that the character of virtue and piety must be a necessary qualification for a future state of security and happiness, under the moral government of God; in like manner, as some certain qualifications or other are necessary for every particular condition of life, under his natural government; and that the present state was inten¬ ded to be a school of discipline, for improving in ourselves that character. Now, this intention of nature is rendered highly credible by observing, that we are plainly made for improvement of all kinds ; that it is a general appointment of Providence, that we cultivate practical principles, and form within ourselves habits of action, in order to become fit for what we were wholly unfit for before ; that, in particu¬ lar, childhood and youth is naturally appointed to be a state of discipline for mature age ; and that the present world is peculiarly fitted for a state of moral discipline. And, where¬ as objections are urged against the whole notion of moral government and a probation state, from the opinion of neces- sity, it has been shown, that God has given us the evidence, as it were, of experience, that all objections against religion on this head are vain and delusive. He has also, in his na¬ tural government, suggested an answer to all our short sight¬ ed objections against the equity and goodness of his moral government; and, in general, he has exemplified to us the latter by the former. These things, which, it is to be remembered, are matters PART I.] CONCLUSION. 137 of fact, ought, in all common sense, to awaken mankind, to induce them to consider, in earnest, their condition, and what they have to do. It is absurd,—alDsurd to the degree of be* ing ridiclous, if the subject where not of so serious a kind, for men to think themselves secure in a vicious life, or even in that immoral thoughtlessness which far the greatest part of them are fallen into. And the credibility of religion, arising from experience and facts here considered, is fully sufficient, in reason, to engage them to live in the general practice of all virtue and piety; under the serious apprehensioUj though it should be mixed with some doubt,* of a righteous adminis¬ tration established in nature, and a future judgment in conse¬ quence of it; especially when we consider, how very ques¬ tionable it is whether any thing at all can be gained by vice ; how unquestionably little, as well as precarious, the plea¬ sures ahd profits of it are at the best, and how soon they must be parted with at the longest. For, in the deliberations of reason, concerning what we are to pursue and what to avoid, as temptations to any thing from mere passion are supposed out of the case ; so inducements to vice from cool expectations of pleasure and interest, so small, and uncer¬ tain, and short, are really so insignificant, as, in the view of reason, to be almost nothing in themselves, and, in compari¬ son with the importance Of religion, they quite disappear and are lost. Mere passioh, indeed, may be alleged, though not as a reason, yet as an excuse for a vicious course of life. And how sorry art excuse it is will be manifest by observing, that we are placed in a condition in whicii we are unavoida¬ bly inured to govern our passions, b}’- being necessitated to govern them ; and to lay ourselves under the same kind of restraints, and as great ones too, from temporal regards, as virtue and piety, in the ordinary course of thingSj require. The plea of ungovernable passion, then. Oh the side of vice, is the poorest of all things ; for it is no reason ; ahd but a poor excuse. But the proper motives to religion, are the proper proofs of it, from our moral nature, from the presages of conscience, and our natural apprehension of God, under the character of a righteous Governor and Judge j a nature, and conscience, and apprehension given us by him ; and from the confirmation of the dictates of reason, by life and immortality brought to light by the gospel; and the wrath of God revealed from heaven^ against all ungodliness and unrighte^ ousness of men. ♦ Part ii. chap. 6. • -•i ■ . -.1 ' W-r ■S« '’W . .ufv ■*U ?- ■ .•' * -.n -'v'. •* - ' . C.V'' ' • *- • *.* • f » . ' ' ■ 1 ' ,‘.'^r * '.u- ■ . - V*" >x ' • ‘.v ' ' ' , \ ...4-. ■/>> ■;*' -/ *' * * ' • * -^r. ' .v*», - * “ ■" ‘V' - — • 1 • •^ •» 4 \ r •.- ' 4r* • ^ V 1 •^’ ’ .W ; t V . -^ ; ■ JK -. 4 . ■■■ f ' r- _ *■ .p < •'pi'** - ■ ■■- ■ W- - . jT :« ' -■ > • »• -1 j-. K-.- ^ ' ■- i’.' - . rr-jc • , ’■ . ' >< V- . fir«i "■ ■ • A^ •'/■••. n'T < •».•■■ • - • » * >- Si* ■•r. * 1 ' ,.' <-; '' '■ ' f ' '. ■< f '/j, ■ ■ f '. ‘ '*.1/. * < -V^ .'' ■ -. .►■ Ifc, ■ ■ i ’■*' . • i ^ V A '1^' V. . 4 *: ■ > •^ V«. A >'*ai P? " » • 4 r ♦■ ^ 4 * / ^wlrv:' Si:'- ;■-.. . l .1*4* ./ -/ . Vlt. • ?-■ '.C. 5 ft f ’^f-i-* t* y ' )» • P' -• f-^ic ’** ^ :-.-tiA THE ANALOGY OP religion. TO THE CONSTITUTION AND COURSE OF NATURE PART II. OF REVEALED RELIGION. CHAP. I. i)f the Importance of Christianity. Some personS) upon pretence of the sufficiency of the light ^ of nature, avowedly reject all revelation, as, in its very notion, incredible, and what must be fictitious. And, indeed, it is certain i.o revelation would have been given, had the light of nature been sufficient in such a sense as to render one not wanting and useless. But no man, in seriousness and sim¬ plicity of mind, can possibly think it so, who considers the state of religion in the heal hen world before revelation, and its present state in those places which have borrowed no ‘i light from it; particularly, the doubtfulness of some of the-‘J greatest men concerning things of the utmost importance, aa well as the natural inattention and ignorance of mankind in general. It is impossible to say who would have been able ' to have reasoned out that whole system, which we call nu- ' tural religion', in its genuine simplicity, clear of superstition , | ■ but there is certainly no ground to affirm that the generality ; could : if they could, there is no sort of probability that they would. Admitting there were, they would highly want a 140 OF THE IMPOilTANcH [PAUT 11. Standing admonition, to remind them of it, and inculcate it upon them. And, farther still, were they as much disposed to attend to religion as the teitier sort of men are, yet, even upon this supposition, there would be various occasions for supernatural instruction and asistance, and the greatest ad¬ vantages might be afforded by them. So that to say, reve¬ lation is a thing superfluous, what there was no need 6f, and what can be of no service, is I think, to talk quite wildly and at random. Nor woiild it be more extiavagant to affirm, that mankind is so entirely a t ease in the present state, and life so completely happy, that it is a contradiction to suppose our condition capable of being in any respect better. There are other persons, not to be ranked with these, who seem to be getting into a way of neglecting, and, as it were, overlooking revelation as of small importance, provi¬ ded natural religion to be kept to. With little regard, either to the evidence of the fortner, or to the objections against it, and even upon supposition of its truth, ‘ the only design of it,’ say they, ‘ must be to establish a belief of the moral system of nature, and to enforce the practice of natural piety and virtue. The belief and practice of these things were, perhaps, much promoted by the first publication of Christianity ; but whether they are believed and practised, upon the evidence and motives of nature or of revelation, is no great matter This way of edrisidering revelation, though it is not the same with the former,yet borders nearly upon it and very much, at length, runs up into it, and requires to be particularly, con¬ sidered, with regard to the p’ersoHs who seem to be getting into this way. The ednsideration of it will, likewise, farther show the extravagance of the former opinion, and the truth df the observations in answer to it, just mentioned. And an inquiry into the Importance of Christianity, cahhot be ari improper introduction to a treatise concerning the tredibility 6f it. Now, if God has given a revelation to mankind, ahd com¬ manded those things which are commanded in Christianity, it is evident, at first sight, that it cannot in any wise be an indifferent matter, whether we obey or disobey those com^ ♦ Invenis multos-propterca nolle fieri Christianos, quia quasi suffi- eiunt sibi de bona vita siia. Bene vivere opus cst, ait. filuid mihi prai- cepturus est Christ,us 7 TTt, bene vivatn 7 Jam bene vivo. Gluid mihi hecessarius est Cnristusl Nullum homicidium, nullum furtum, nullarn rupinam faclo, res alienas non concupisco, nullo adulterio containinor. Nam inveniatur in vita mea aliquid quod reprehendatur, et qui reprehenderit fa¬ cial Christianum.— Aug. in Psalm xxxi. PART II.J OF CHRISTIANITY. 141 \ I 1 mands, unless we are certainly assured, that we Jmow all the reasons for them, and that all those reasons are now ceased, with regard to mankind in general, or to ourselves in particular. And it is absolutely impossible we can be assured of this ; for our ignorance of these reasons proves nothing in the case, since the whole analogy of nature shows, what is indeed in itself evident, that there may be infinite reasons for things, with which we are not acquainted. But the importance of Christianity will more distinctly appear, by considering it more distinctly : First, As a re¬ publication, and external institution, of natural or essential religion, adapted to the present circumstances of maukirid, and intended to promote natural piety and virtue ; and sa- Gondly, As containing an account of a dispensation of things, not discoverable by reason, in consequence of which several distinct precepts are enjoined us. For, though natural reli¬ gion is the foundation and principal part of Christianity, it is not in any sense the whole of it. I. Christianity is a republication of natural religion. It instructs mankind in the moral system of the world ; that it is the work of an infinitely perfect Being, and under his go¬ vernment ; that virtue is his law ; and that he will finally judge mankind in righteousness, and render to all according to their works, in a future state. And, which is very mate¬ rial, it teaches natural religion in its genuine simplicity, free from those superstitions with which it was totally corrupted, and under which it was in a manner lost. Revelation is, farther, an authoritative publication of na¬ tural religion, and so affords the evidence of testimony for the truth of it. Indeed, the miracles and prophecies record¬ ed in Scripture, were intended to prove a particular dispensa¬ tion of Providence—the redemption of the world by the Mes¬ siah ; but this does not hinder but that they may also provo God’s general providence over the world, as our Moral Go¬ vernor and Judge. And they evidently do prove it; be¬ cause this character of the Author of nature is necessarily connected with and implied in that particular revealed dis¬ pensation of things ; it is likewise continually taught ex» pressly; and insisted upon, by those persons who wrought the miracles and delivered the prophecies. So that, indeed, natural religion seems as much proved by the Scripture reve¬ lation, as it would have been, had the design of revelation been nothing else than to prove it. But it may possibly be disputed, how far miracles can 142 OF THE IMPORTANCE [PART II, prove natural religion ; and notable objections may be urged against this proof of it, considered as a matter of specula¬ tion ; but, considered as a practical thing, there can be none. For, suppose a person to teach natural religion to a nation who had lived in total ignorance or forgetfulness of it, and to declare he was commissioned by God so to do ; suppose him, in proof of his commission, to foretell things future, j which no human foresight could have guessed at ] to divide the sea with a word ; feed great multitudes with bread from heaven; cure all manner of diseases; and raise the dead, even himself, to life ;—would not this give additional credi-. bility to his teaching, a credibility beyond what that of a 1 common man would have, and be an authoritative publica- j tion of the law of nature, i e. a new proof of it ? It would 1 be a practical one, of the strongest kind, perhaps, which hu- ^ man creatures are capable of having given them. The law of Moses, then, and the gospel of Christ, are authoritative ; publications of the religion of nature : they afford a proof of i God’s general providence, as moral Governor of the world, i as well as of his particular dispensations of Providence to¬ wards sinful creatures, revealed in the law of the gospel. As they are the only evidence of the latter, so they are an additional eyidence of the former. * To show this further, let us suppose a man of the great-: esi and most improved capacity, who had never heard of revelation, convinced upon the whole, notwithstanding the disorders of the world, that it was under the direction and moral government of an infinitely perfect Being, but ready to question, whether he were not got beyond the reach of his faculties ; suppose him brought, by this suspicion, into great danger of being carried away by the universal bad example of almost every one around him, who appeared to have no sense, no practical sense at least, of these things ; and this perhaps, would be as advantageous a situation, with regard to religion, as nature alone ever placed any man in. 'What a confirmation now naust it be to such a person, all at once to find, that this moral system of things was revealed to mankind, in the name of that infinite Being whom he had, from principles of reason, believed in ; and that the publish¬ ers of the revelation proved their commission from him, by making it appear that he had intrusted them with a power of suspending and changing the general laws of nature ! Nor must it, by anj'- means, be omitted ; for it is a thing of the utmost importance, that life and immortality are em*- OF CHRISTIANITY. 143 CHAP. I.] inently brought to light by the gospel. The great doctrines ) of a future state, the danger of a course of wickedness, and ' the efficacy of repentance, are not only confirmed in the gos¬ pel, but are taught, especially the last is, with a degree of light; to which that of nature is but darkness. Farther: As Christianity served these ends and purposes, when it was first published, by the miraculous publication it¬ self, so it was intended to serve the same purposes, in future ages, by means of the settlement of a visible church ; of a so¬ ciety, distinguished from common ones, and from the rest of the world, by peculiar religious institutions ; by an instituted method of instruction, and an instituted form of external re¬ ligion. Miraculous powers were given to the first preachers of Christianity, in order to their introducing it into the world : a visible church was established, in order to continue it, and ' carry it on successively throughout all ages. Had Moses . and the Prophets, Christ and his Apostles, only taught, and by miracles proved, religion to their contemporaries the benefits of their instructions would have reached but to a small part ■ of mankind. Christianity must have been, in a great de- ^ gree, sunk and forgot in a very few ages. To prevent this appears to have been one reason why a visible church was instituted ; to be, like a city upon a hill, a standing memo¬ rial to the world of the duty which we owe our Maker ; to call men continually, both by example and instruction, to at¬ tend to it, and, by the form of religion ever before their eyes, remind them of the reality ; to be the repository of the ora¬ cles of God ; to hold up the light of revelation in aid to that of nature, and propagate it throughout all generations to the end of the world—the light of revelation, considered ■ here in no other view, than as designed to enforce natural re¬ ligion. And, in proportion as Christianity is professed and taught in the world, religion, natural or essential religion, is thus distinctly and adv^antageously laid before mankind, and brought again and again to their thoughts, as a matter of infinite importance. A visible church has also a farther ten- S dency to promote natural religion, as being an instituted^ method of education, originally intended to be of more pecul- • iar advantage to those who would conform to it. For one, end of the institution was, that, by admonition and reproof, as well as instruction; by a general regular discipline, and public exercises of religion, the body of Christy as the Scrip¬ ture speaks, should be edified ; i. e. trained up in piety and virtue, foi a higher and a better state. This settlement then. 144 or THE IMPORTANCE [part II. appearing thus beneficial; tending, in the nature of the thing, to answer, and in some degree actually answering, those ends ; it is to be remembered, that the very notion of it implies positive institutions ; for the visibility of the church consists in them. Take away every thing of this kind, and you lose the very notion itself. So that, if the things now mentioned are advantages, the reason and importance of positive institutions in general is most obvious ; since with' out them, these advantages could riot be secured to the world And it is mere idle wantonness, to insist upon knowing the reasons why such particular ones were fixed upon rather than others. The benefit arising from this supernatural assistance, which Christianity affords to natural religion, is what some persons are very slow in apprehending’; and yet it is a thing distinct in itself, and a very plain obvious one. For will any, in good earnest, really say, that the bulk of mankind in the heathen world were in as advantageous a situation, with regard to natural religion, as they are now amongst us ? that it was laid before them, and enforced upon them, in a manner as distinct, and as much tending to influence their practice ? The objections against all this, from 'the perversion of Christianity, and from the supposition of its having had but little good influence, however innocently they may be pro¬ posed, yet cannot be insisted upon as conclusive, upon any principles but such as lead to downright atheism ; because the manifestation of the law of nature by reason, which, up¬ on all principles of theism, must have been from God, has been perverted and rendered ineffectual in the same manner. It may indeed, I think, truly be said that the good effects of Christianity have not been small; nor its supposed ill effects at ail of it, properly speaking. Perhaps, too, the things themselves done have been aggravated ; and if not, Chris¬ tianity hath been often only a pretence ; and the same evils, in the main, would have been done upon some other pretence. However, great and shocking as the corruptions and abuses of it have really been, they cannot be insisted upon as argu¬ ments against it, upon principles of theism. For one can¬ not proceed one step in reasoning upon natural religion, any more than upon Christianity, without laying it down as a first principle, that the dispensations of Providence are not to be judged of by their perversions, but by their genuine tendencies ; not by what they do actually seem to effect, but CHAP. I.] OP CHRISTIANITY. 14s by what they would effect if mankind did their part, that part which is justly put and left upon them. It is altogeth¬ er as much the language of one, as of the other : He that is unjust^ let him he unjust still; and he that is holy^ let him he holy still* The light of reason does not, any more than that of revelation, force men to submit to its authority : both admonish them of what they ought to do and avoid, togeth¬ er with the consequences of each ; and, after this, leave them at full liberty to act just as they please, till the appoin¬ ted time of judgment. Every moment’s experience shows, that this is God’s general rule of government. To return, then: Christianity being a promulgation of the law of nature ; being, moreover, an authoritative promulga¬ tion of it, with new light and other circumstances of pecu-' liar advantage, adapted to the wants of mankind; these things fully show its importance. And it is to be observed farther that as the nature of the case requires, so all Chris¬ tians are commanded to contribute, by their profession of Christianity, to preserve it in the world, and render it such a promulgation and enforcement of religion. For it is the very scheme of the gospel, that each Christian should, in his degree, contribute towards continuing and carrying it on ; all by uniting in the public profession, and external practice of Christianity ; some by instructing, by having the over¬ sight, and taking care of this religious community, the Church of God. Now this farther shows the importance of Christianity, and, which i» what I chiefly intend, its im¬ portance in a practical sense, or the high obligations we are under, to take it into our most serious consideration : and the danger there must necessarily be, not only in treating it despitefully, which I am not now speaking of, but in disre¬ garding and neglecting it. For this is neglecting to do what is expressly enjoined us, for continuing those benefits to the world, and transmitting them down to future times, A.nd all this holds, even though the only thing to be consi¬ dered in Christianity were its subserviency to natural reli¬ gion. But, II. Christianity is to be considered in a further view, as containing an account of a dispensation of things, not at all discoverable by reason, in consequence of which several dis¬ tinct precepts are enjoined us. Christianity is not only an external institution of natural religion, and a new pro- * Rev. xxii, 11. 7 146 OF THE IMPORTANCE [part n. miilgation of God’s general providence, as righteous Gover¬ nor and Judge of the world ; but it contains also a revelation of a particular dispensation of Providence, carrying on by his Son and Spirit, for the recovery and salvation of mankind, who are represented, in Scripture, to be in a state of ruin. And, in consequence of this revelation being made, we are commanded to be baptized^ not only in the name of the Father^ but also of the Son, and of the Holy Gho^t; and other obliga¬ tions of duty, unknown before, to the Son and the Holy Ghost, are revealed. Now, the importance of these duties may be judged of, by observing that they arise, not from positive command merely, but also from the offices which appear, from Scripture, to belong to those divine persons in the gospel dispensation, or from the relations which, we are there informed, they stand in +o us. By reason is revealed the relation which God the Father stands in to us. Hence arises the obligation of duty which we are under to him. In Scripture are revealed the relations which the Son and Holy Spirit stand in to us. Hence arise the obligations of duty which we are under to them. The truth of the case, as one may speak, in each of these three respects, being 4J,dmitted, that God is the Governor of the World, upon the evidence of reason ; that Christ is the Mediator between God and man, and the Holy Ghost our Guide and Sanctifier, upon the evi¬ dence of revelation; the truth of the case, I say, in each of these respects, being admitted, it is no more a question, why it should be commanded that we be baptized in the name of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, than that we be baptized in the name of the Father. This matter seems to require to be more fully stated.* Let it be remembered, then, that religion comes under the twofold consideration of intGrnal and external; for the latter is as real a part of religion, of true religion, as the former. Now, when religion is considered under the first notion as an inward principle, to be exerted in such and such inward acts of the mind and heart, the essence of natural religion may be said to, consist in religious regards to God the Fathei Almighty ; and the essence of revealed religion, as distin guisbed from natural, to consist in religious regards to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost. And the obligation we are un¬ der, of paying these religious regards to each of these di * See the Nature, Obligation, and Efficacy, of the Christian Sacra- meats, &c. and Colliber on Revealed religion, as there quoted. CHAP. I.] OF CHRISTIANITY. 147 vine persons respectively, arises from the respective relation? >\^hich they each stand in to us. How these relations are ' made known, 'whether by reason or revelatic-n, makes no al- | teration in the case ; because the duties arise out of the rela- „ lions themselves, not out of the manner in which we are in- formed of them. The Son and Spirit have each his proper office in that great dispensation of Providence, the redemp¬ tion of the world ; the one onr Mediator, the other our Sanc¬ tifier. Does not, then, the duty of religious regards to both these divine persons, as immediately arise, to the view of reason, out of the very nature of these offices and relaTions, as the inward good will and kind attention, which we owe to our fellow-creatures, arises out of the common relations be¬ tween us and them ? But it will be asked, ‘ What are the inward religious regards, appearing thus obviously due to the Son and Holy Spirit, as arising, not merely from command in Scripture, but from the verj^ nature of the revealed rela¬ tions which they stand in to us ? ’ I answer, the religious ] regards of reverence, honor, love, trust, gratitude, fear, hope, f In what external manner this inward wmrship is to be ex¬ pressed, is a matter of pure revealed command ; as perhaps, the external manner in which God the Father is to be wor¬ shipped, may be more so than we are ready to think ; but the worship, the internal v/orship itself, to the Son and Ho¬ ly Ghost, is no farther matter of pure revealed command, \ than as the relations they stand in to us, are matter of pure \ revelation ; for the relations being known, the obligations to \ such internal worship are obligations of reason, arising out t of those relations themselves. In short, the history of the gospel as immediately shows us the reason of these obliga¬ tions, as it shows us the meaning of the wmrds, Son and Ho¬ ly Ghost. If this account of the Christian religion he just, those per¬ sons who can speak lightly of it, as of little consequence, provi¬ ded natural religion be kept to, plainly forget, that Chris- 4 tianit}^, even what is peculiarly so called, as distinguished from natural religion, has yet somewhat very important, even of a m.oral nature. F or the office of our Lord bein.g made known. and the relation he stands in to us, the obligation of religious regards to him is plainl}^ moral, as much as charity to man- i kind is: since this obligation arises, before external com- mand, immediately out of that his office and relation itself. Those persons appear to forget, that revelation is to be con¬ sidered as informing us of somewhat new in the state of man- » 148 OF THE IMPORTANCE [part IL kind, and in the goverment of the world ; as acquainting ua with some relations we stand in, which could not otherwise have been known. And these relations being real, (though before revelation we could be under no obligations from them, yet upon their being revealed,) the^e is po ?-eason to think,but that neglect of behaving suitably to them will be attended with the same kind of consequences under God’s government, as neglecting to behave suitably to any other relations made known to us by reason. And ignorance, whether unavoida¬ ble or voluntary, so far as we can possibly see, will, just as much, and just as little, excuse in one case as in the other: the ignorance being suppiosed equally unavoidable, or equally voluntary, in both cases. If, therefore, Christ he indeed the Mediator between Gk)d and man, i. e. if Christianity be true ; if he be indeed our Lord, our Saviour, and our God, no one pan say what may follow, not only the obstinate, but the careless, disregard to him in those high relations. Nay, no one can say what may follow such disregard, even in the way of natural con¬ sequence. For, as the natural consequences of vice in this life are doubtless to be considered as judicial punishments inflicted by God, so likewise, for aught we know, the judicial punishments of the future life may be, in a like way, or a like sense, the natural consequence of vice jj* of men’s vio-^ lating or disregarding the relations which God has placed them in here, and made known to them. Again, If mankind are corrupted and depraved in their moral character, and so are unfit for that state which Christ is gone to prepare for his disciples ; and if the assistance of God’s Spirit be necessary to renew their nature, in a degree requisite to their being qualified for that state ; all which is implied in the express, though figurative, declaration, Ex¬ cept a man he horn of the Spirit^ he cannot enter into the king¬ dom of God :J supposing this, is it possible any serious per¬ son can think it a slight matter, whether or no he makes use of the means, expressly commanded by God, for obtain¬ ing this divine assistance ? especially since the whole analo¬ gy of nature shows, that we are not to expect any benefits, without making use of the appointed mearis for obtaining or enjoying them. Now, reason shows us nothing of the par¬ ticular iipmediate means of obtaining either temporal oj t Chap. 5. t John iii. 5. CHAP. I.] OP CHRISTIANITY. U9 Bpiritiial benefits. This, therefore, we must learn, eithei from experience or revelation. And experience the present case does not admit of. The conclusion from all this evidently is, that Christianity being supposed either true or credible, it is unspeakable irreverence, and really the ipost presumptuous rashness, to treat it as a light matter, It can never justly be esteemed of little consequence, till it be positively supposed false. Nor do I know a higher and more important obligation which we are under, than that qf examining most seriously into the evidence' of it, supposing its credibility ; and of embrac¬ ing it, upon supposition of its truth. The two following deductions may be proper to be added, in order to illustrate the foregoing observations, and to pre¬ vent their being mistaken. First, Hence we may clearly see, where lies the distinc¬ tion between what is positive and what is moral in religion. Moral precepts are precepts, the reasons of which we see ; positive precepts are precepts, the reasons of which we do.. not see.^ j^Moral duties arise out of, the nature of the case itself, prior to external command. Positive duties do not arise out of the nature of the case, but frqm external com¬ mand ; nor would they be duties at all, were it not for such command received from him, whose creatures and subjects we are. But the manner in which the nature of the case, or the fact of the relatiori, is made known, this doth not de¬ nominate any duty, either positive or moral. That we be baptized in the name of the Father, is as much a positive duty as that we be baptized in the name of the Son ; be¬ cause both arise equally from revealed command : though the relation which we stand in to God the Father, is made known to us by reason ; the relation we stand in to Christ, by revelation only. On the other hand, the dispensation of the gospel admitted, gratitude as immediately becomes due to Christ, from his being the voluntary minister of this dis¬ pensation, as it is due to Gqd the Father, from his being the fountain of all good ; though the first is made known to us by revelation only, the second by reason. Hence also we * This is the distinction between moral and positive precepts, consider¬ ed respectively as such. But yet, since the latter have somewhat of a mo¬ ral nature, we may see the reason of them considered in this view. Mo¬ ral and positive precepts are in some respects alike, in other respects differ¬ ent. So far as they are alike, we discern the reasons of both; so far as they are difibitent, we discern the reasons of the former, but not of the lat¬ ter. 150 OP THE IMPORTANCE [part U may see, and, for distinctness sake, it may be worth men¬ tioning, that positive institutions come under a twofold con¬ sideration. They are either institutions founded on natural religion, as baptism in the name of the Father ; though this has also a particular reference to the gospel dispensation, for it is in the name of God, as the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ; or they are external institutions founded on revealed religion, as baptism in the name of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Secondly^ From the distinction between what is moral and what is positive in religion, appears the ground of that pe¬ culiar preference, which the Scripture teaches us to be due to the former. The reason of positive institutions in general is very obvi¬ ous, though we should not see the reason why such parti¬ cular ones are pitched upon, rather than others. Whoever, therefore, instead of cavilling at words, will attend to the thing itself, may clearly see, that positive institutions in general, as distinguished from this or that particular one, have the nature of moral commands : since the reasons of them appear. Thus, for instance, the external worship of God is a moral duty, though no particular mode of it be so. Care then is to be taken, when a comparison is made be¬ tween positive and moral duties, that they be compared no farther than as they are different; no farther than as the former are positive, or arise out of mere external command, the reasons of which we are not acquainted with ; and as the latter are moral, or arise out of the apparent reason of the case, without such external command. Unless this cau¬ tion be observed, we shall run into endless confusion. Now, this being premised, suppose two standing precepts enjoined by the same authority; that, in certain conjunctures it is impossible to obey both; that the former is moral, i. e. a precept of which we see the reasons, and that they hold in the particular case before us ; but that the latter is positive, . i. e. a precept of which we do not see the reasons; it is in¬ disputable that our obligations are to obey the former, because there is an apparent reason for this preference, and none against it. Farther, positive institutions. I suppose all those which Christianity enjoins, are means to a moral end ; and the end must be acknowledged more excellent than the ^ means. Nor is observance of these institutions any religious obedience at all, or of any value, otherwise than as it pro¬ ceeds from a moral principle. This seems to be the strict CHAP. I.] OF CHRISTIANITY. 151 log'ical way of stating and determining this matter; but will, perhaps, be found less applicable to practice, than may be thou 2 :ht at first sio:ht. And therefore, in a more practical, though more lax way of consideration, and taking the words, moral law and positive institutions^ in the popular sense; I add, that the whole moral law is as much matter of revealed command, as posh , live institutions arc; for the scripture enjoins every moral \ virtue. In this respect, then, they are both upon a level, But the moral law is, moreover, written upon our hearts, in¬ terwoven into our very nature. And this is'a plain intima¬ tion of the Author of it, which is to be preferred, when they interfere. But there is not altogether so much necessity for the de¬ termination of this question as some persons seem to think, Nor are we left to reason alone to determine it. For, firsts 'Though mankind have in all ages been greatly prone to iilace their religion in peculiar positive rites, by way of equi- valen for obedience to moral precepts ; yet, without making any comparison at all between them, and consequently with¬ out determining which is to have the preference, the nature of the thing abundantly shows all notions of that kind to be utterly subversive of true religion ; as they are, moreover, contrary to thf^ whole general tenor of Scripture, and like? wuse to the most express particular declarations of it, that nothing can render us accepted of God, without moral virtue, Secondhj^ Upon the occasion of mentioning together positive and moral duties, 'the Scripture always puts the stress of re¬ ligion upon the latter, and never upon the former ; which, t,' though no sort of allow^ance to neglect the former, when they io not interfere with the latter, yet is a plain intimation, that , when they do, the latter are to be preferred. And, farther, as mankind are for placing the stress of their religion any where, rather than upon virtue, lest both the reason of the thing, and the general spirit of Christianity, appearing in the intimation now mentioned, should be ineffectual against this prevalent folly : our Lord himself, from whose command alone the obligation of positive institutions arises, has taken occasion to make the comparison between them and moral precepts, when the Pharisees censured him for eating with publicans and sinners ; and also when they censured his dis’* ciples for plucking the ears of corn on the Sabbath day. Upon this comparison he has determined expressly, and in form, which shall have the preference when they interfere. And 152 OF THE IMPORTANCE [PART IJ. by delivering his authoritative determination in a proverbial manner of expression, he has made it general: I luill have mercy^ and not sacrifice.*- The propriety of the word prover¬ bial is not the thing insisted upon, though, I think, the man¬ ner of speaking is to be called so. But that the manner of speaking very remarkably renders the determination general, is surely indisputable. For, had it, in the latter case, been said only, that God preferred mercy to the rigid observance of the Sabbath, even then, by parity of reason, most justly might we have argued, that he preferred mercy, likewise, to the observance of other ritual institutions, and, in general, moral duties to positive ones. And thus the determination would have been general, though its being so were inferred, and not expressed. But as the passage really stands in the gospel, it is much stronger ; for tl)e sense, and the very lite¬ ral words of our Lord’s answer, are as applicable to any other instance of a comparison, between positive and moral duties, as to this upon which they were spoken. And if, in case of competition, mercy is to be preferred to positive in¬ stitutions, it will scarce be thought, that justice is to give place to them. It is remarkable, too, that, as the words are a quotation from tjie Old Testament, they are introduced, on both of the forementioned occasions, with a declaration, that the Pharisees did not understand the meaning of them, This, I say, is very remarkable; for, since it is scarce possible for the most ignorant person not to understand the literal sense of the passage in the Prophet, | and since understanding the literal sense would not have prevented their condemning the guiltless^’^, it can hardly be doubted, that the thing w^hich our Lord really intended in that declaration was, that the Phari¬ sees had not learnt from it, as they might, wherein the gene¬ ral spirit of religion consists ; that it consists in moral piety and virtue, as distinguished from forms and ritual observan¬ ces. However, it is certain we may learn this from his di¬ vine application of the passage, in the gospel. But,as it is oneof the peculiar weaknesses of human nature, when, upon a comparison of two things, one is found to be of greater importance than the other, to consider this other as of scarce any importance at all; it is highly necessary that we remind ourselves, how great presumption it is to make light * Matt. ix. 13, and xii. 7, t Hoa. vl It See Matt. xii. 7. CHAP, I.] OF CIIRISTIA??ITY. 15^ of any institutions of divine appointment; that our obligations to obey all God’s commands whatever, are absolute and in¬ dispensable ; and that commands merely positive, admitted to be from him, lay us under a moral obligation to obey them ; an obligation moral in the strictest and most proper sense. To these things! cannot forbear adding, that the account now given of Christianity most strongly shows and enforces upon us the obligation of searching the Scriptures, in order to see what the scheme pf revelation really is instead of deter¬ mining beforehand, from reason, what the scheme of it m,ust be.* Indeed, if in revelation there be found any pas¬ sages, the seeming meaning of which is contrary to natural religion, we may most certainly conclude such seeming meaning not to be the real one. But it is not any degree of presumption against an interpretation of Scriptures, that such interpretation ' contains a doctrine, which the light of nature cannot discover, or a precept, w'hich the law of nature does not oblige to. 154 OP THE SUPPOSED PRESUMPTION [PART 11. CHAPTER II. Of the Supposed 'Presumption against a "Revelation^ consid¬ ered as JMiraculous. Having shown the importance of the Christian revela¬ tion, and the obligations which we are under seriously to at¬ tend to it, upon supposition of its truth or its credibility; the next thing in order is, to consider the supposed presumptions against revelation in general, which shall be the subject of this chapter; and the objections against the Christian in particular, which shall be the subject of some following ones * For it seems the most natural method to remove these prejudices against Christianity, before we proceed to the consideration of the positive evidence for it, and the ob¬ jections against that evidence.I It is, I think, commonly supposed, that there is some pe¬ culiar presumption, from the analogy of nature, against the Christian scheme of things, at least against miracles; so as that stronger evidence is necessary to prove the truth and reality of them, than would be sufficient to convince us of other events or matters of fact. Indeed, the consideration of this supposed presumption cannot but be thought very in¬ significant by many persons ; yet, as it belongs to the sub ject of this treatise, so it may tend to open the mind, and re¬ move some prejudices ; however needless the consideration of it be, upon its own account. I. I find no appearance of a presumption, from the anal¬ ogy of nature, against the general scheme of Christianity, that God created and invisibly governs the world by Jesus Christ, and by him also will hereafter judge it in righteous¬ ness, i. e. render to every one according to his works ; and that good men are under the secret influence of his Spirit. * Cbap. 3, 4} 5, 6 t Chap. 7. CHAP. II.] AGAINST MIRACLES. 15& Whether these things are, or are not, to be called miraculous, is, perhaps, only a question about words ; or, however, is of no moment in the case. If the analogy of nature raises any j presumption against this general scheme of Christianity, it must be, either because it is not discoverable by reason or experience, or else because it is unlike that course of na?' ture, which is. But analogy raises no presumption against the truth of this scheme, upon either of these accounts. Firs^, There is no presumption, from analogy, against the truth of it, upon account of its not being discoverable by reason or experience. For, suppose one who never heard 'of revelation, of the most improved understanding, and ac^ quainted with our whole system of natural philosophy and natural religion ; such a one could not but be sensible, thai it was but a very small part of the natural and moral system of the universe, which he was acquainted with. He could not but be sensible, that there must be innumerable things, in the dispensations of Providence past, in the invisible go¬ vernment over the world at present carrying on, and in what is to come, of which he was v/holly ignorant, and which could not be discovered without revelation. Whether the scheme of nature be, in the strictest sense, infinite or not, it is evidently vast, even beyond all possible imagination. And, doubtless, that part of it which is opened to our view, is but as a point, in comparison of the whole plan of Provi¬ dence, reaching throughout etermty, past and future ; in comparison of what is even now going on in the remote parts of the boundless universe ; nay, in comparison of the whole scheme of this world. And, therefore, that things lie beyond ^ the natural reach of our faculties, is no sort of presumption , against the truth and reality of them ; because it is certain, / there are innumerable things in the constitution and govern¬ ment of the universe, which are thus bejmnd the natural reach of our faculties. Secondly^ Analogy raises no pre¬ sumption against any of the things contained in this general doctrine of Scripture now mentioned, upon account of their being unlike the known course of nature. For there is no presumption at all, from analogy, that the xohole course of things, or divine government, naturally unknown to us, and every thing in it, is like to any thing in that which is known ; and therefore no peculiar presumption against any thing in tlie former, upon account of its being unlike to any thing in 0^ I 1 156 OF THi; SUPPOSED PRESUMPTION [PAI^T If. the latter. And in the constitution and natural government of the world, as well as in the moral government of it, we see things, in a great degree, unlike one another : and there¬ fore ought not to wonder at such unlikeness between things visible and invisible. However, the scheme of Christianity is by no means entirely unlike the scheme of nature ; as will appear i.n the following part of this treatise. The notion of a rniracle, considered as a proof of a di¬ vine mission, has been stated with great exactness by di¬ vines ; and is, I think, sufficiently understood by every one, There are also iavisible miracles ; the incarnation of Christ, for instance, which, beipg secret, cannot be alledged as a. proof of such a missiori; but require themselves to be pro¬ ved by visible EQiracles. Revelation, itself, too, is miraculous and miracles are the proof of it; and the supposed presump¬ tion against these shall presently be considered. All which I have been observing here is, that, whether we choose to call every thing in the dispensations of Providence, not dis¬ coverable without revelation, nor like the known course of things, miraculous ; and whether the general Christian dis¬ pensation now mentioned, is to be called so, or not; the forer going observations seem certainly to show, that there is no presumption against it, from the analogy of nature. II. There is no presumption, from analogy, agairist some operations, which we should now call miraculous ; particu¬ larly, none against a revelation, at the beginning of the world ; nothing of such presumptions against it, as is sup¬ posed to be implied or expressed in the word miraculous. For a inirpLcle, ip its very notion, is relative to a course of nature ; and implies spm.ewhat different from it, considered as being so. Now, either there was no epurse of nature at the time which we are speaking of; or if there were, we are not acquainted what the course of nature is upon the first peopling of worlds. Apd therefore the question, whethejf mankind had a revelatiop made to them at that time is to be considered, not as a question concerning a miracle, but as a common question of fact. And we have the Ijke t'eason, be it more or less, to admit the report pf tradition concerning this question and concerning common matters of fact of the same antiquity; for instance, what part of the earth was first peopled. Or thus: When mapkind was first placed in this state, there was a power exerted, totally different from the present course of nature. Now, whether this power, thus wholly CHAP. li.l AGAINST MlRACLilS. i5t different from the present course of nature ; for vve cannot properly apply to it the word miraculous ; whether this power stopped immediately after it had made man, or went on, and exerted itself farther in giving him a revelation, is a fjtiestion of the same kind^ as whether an ordinary power exerted itself in such a particular degree and manner, or not. Or suppose the power exerted in the formation of the world / be considered as miraculous, or rather, be called by the name, the case will not be different; since it must be acknowledged, ,that such a power was exerted. For supposing it acknow¬ ledged that our Saviour spent some years in a course of working miracles ; there is no more presumption, worth meh* tioning, against his having exerted this miraculous power, in a certain degree greater, than in a certain degree less ; in one or two more instances, than in one or two fewer ; in this, than in another manner. It is evident, thenj that there can be no peculiar presuihption, from the analogy of nature, against supposing a revelation, when man was first placed upon the earth. Add, that there does not appear the least intimation in history or tradition, that religion was first reasoned out; but I I the whole of history and tradition makes for the other side, thdt it came into the world by revelation. Indeed, the state of religion in the first ages, of which we have any account seems to suppose and imply, that this was the original of it amongst mankind. And these reflections together, with* out taking in the peculiar authority of Scripture, amount to real and very material degree of evidence, that there was a revelation at the beginning of the world. Now this, as it is a confirmation of natural religion, and therefore mentioned in the former part of this treatise 5 so, likewise, it has a ten¬ dency to remove any prejudices against a subsequent revela¬ tion. III. But still it may be objected, that there is some pecu¬ liar presumption from analogy, against miracles ; particular¬ ly against revelation, after the settlement and during the continuance of a course of nature. Now, with regard to this supposed presumption, it is to be observed in general, that before we can have ground foi raising what can, with any propriety, be called an argument from analogy, for or against revelation considered as some* what miraculous, we must be acquainted with a similar or i58 OP THE SUPPOSED PRESUMPTION [PART II, parallel case. But the history of some other world, seemingly in like circumstances with our own, is no more than a parallel Case; and therefore nothing short of this can be so. Yet, could we come at a presumptive proof, for or against a reve¬ lation, from being informed whether such world had one, or not; such a proof, being drawn from one single instance only, must be infinitely precarious. More particularly: First of all. There is a very strong presumption against common speculative truths, and against the most ordinary facts, before the proof of them; which yet is overcome by almost any proof There is a presumption of millions to one, against the Story of CcBsar, or of any other man. For suppose a number of common facts so and so circumstanced, of "tvhich one had no kind of proof, should happen to come into one’s thoughts ; every one wouldj without any possible doubt, conclude them to be false. And the like may be said of a single common fact. And from hence it appears, that the question of im¬ portance, as to the matter before us, is, concerning the degree of the peculiar presumption supposed against miracles ; not whether there be any peculiar presumption at all against them. For, if there be the presumption of millions to one, against the most common facts, what can a small presump¬ tion, additional to this, amount to, though it be peculiar ? It cannot be estimated, and is as nothing. The only material question is, whether there be any such presumption against miracles, as to render them in any sort incredible ? Secondly^ if we leave out the consideration of religion, we are in such total darkness, upon what causes, occasions, reasons, or cir¬ cumstances, the present course of nature depends, that there does not appear any improbability for or against supposing, that five or six thousand years may have given scope for causes, occasions, reasons, or circumstances, from whence miraculous interpositions may have arisen. And from this, joined with the foregoing observation, it will follow, that there must be a presumption, beyond all comparison, greater, against the 'particular common facts just now instanced in, than against miracles in, general; before any evidence of either. But, thirdly, Take in the consideration of religion, or the moral system of the world, and then we see distinct particu¬ lar reasons for miracles ; to afihrd mankind instruction addi¬ tional to that of nature, and to attest the truth of it. And this gives a real credibility to the supposition, that it might be part of the original plan of things, that there should be mi¬ raculous interpositions. Then, lastly^ Miracles must not be AGAINST MIRACLES. 159 CHAP. II.] compared to common natural events; or to events which, though uncommon, are similar to what we daily experience ; but to the extraordinary phenomena of nature. And then the comparison will be, between the presumption against miracles, and the presumption against such uncommon ap¬ pearances, suppose, as comets, and against there being any such powers in nature as magnetism and electricity, so con¬ trary to the properties Of other bodies not endued with these powers. And before any one can determine, whether there be any peculiar presumption against miracles, more than a.gainst Other extraordinary things, he must consider, what, upon iirst hearing, would be the presumption against the last mentioned appearances and powers, to a person acquainted only with the daily, monthly, and annual course of nature respecting this-earth, and with those common powers of matter which we every day see. Upon all this I conclude. That there certainly is no such presumption against miracles, as to render them in any wise incredible; that, on the contrary, our being able to discern reasons for them, gives a positive credibility to the history of them, in cases where those reasons hold; and that it is by no means certain, that there is any peculiar presumption at all, from analogy, even in the lowest degree, against miracles, as distinguished from other extraordinary phenomena; though it is not worth while to perplex the reader with inquiries into the abstract nature of evidence, in order to determine a ques¬ tion, which, without such inquiries, we see is of no impor¬ tance. / / 1 \ V l(jy tHE CREDIBILITY OF REVELATION fpART II. ! CHAPTER nl. Of our Incapacity of Judging, what were to be expected iii a Revelation ; and the Credibility from Analogy, that it must contain Things appearing liable to Objections. / Besides the objections against the evidence for Christianity, f many are alleged against the scheme of it; against the whole manner in which it is put and left with the world; as well as against several particular relations in Scripture: objections drawn from the deficiencies of revelation : from things in it ap pearing to men foolishness from its containing matters of offence, which have led, and it must have been foreseen, would lead, into strange enthusiasm and superstition, and be made to serve the purposes of tyranny and wickedness; from its not being universal; and, which is a thing of the same kind, from its evidence not being so convincing and satisfac- ^ tory as it might have been; for this last is sometimes turned into a positive argument against its truth.l It would be te¬ dious, indeed impossible, to enumerate the several particulars comprehended under the objections here referred to, they being so various, according to the different fancies of men. There are persons, who think it a strong objection against the authority of Scripture, that it is not edmposed by rules of art, agreed upon by critics, for polite and correct writing. And the scorn is inexpressible, with which some of the pro¬ phetic parts of Scripture are treated; partly through the rashness of interpreters, but very much also on account of the hieroglyphical and figurative language in which they are left us. Some of the principal things of this sort shall be particularly considered in the following chapters. But my design at present is to observe, in general, with respect to this whole way of arguing, that, upon supposition of a revelation, 1 Cor* i. 18 . t See Chap. 6. 1 CHAP. III.] LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS 161 ix is highly credible beforehand, we should be incompetent judges of it, to a great degree; and that it would contain many things appearing to us liable to great objections, in case we judge of it otherwise than by the analogy of nature. And, therefore, though objections against the evidence of Chris¬ tianity are more seriously to be considered, yet objections against Christianity itself are^ in a great measure, frivolous; almost all objections against it, excel)tihg those which are al¬ leged against the particular proofs of its coming from God. I express myself with caution, lest I should be mistaken to vilify reason, which is indeed the only faculty we have wherewith to judge concerning any thing, even revelation itself; or be misunderstood to assert, that a supposed revela¬ tion cannot be proved false from internal characters. For, it ma}^ contain clear immoralities or contradictions ; and either of these would prove it false. Nor will I take upon me to affirm, that nothing else can possibly render any supposed revelation incredible. Yet still the observation above is, I think, true beyond doubt, that objections against Christianity, as distinguished from objections against its evidence, are frivolous. To make out this, is the general design of the present chapter. And, with regard to the whole of it, I can¬ not but particularly wish, that the proofs might be attended to, rather than the assertions cavilled at, upon account of any unacceptable consequences, whether real or supposed, which may be drawn from them. For after all, that which is true, must be admitted ; though it should show Us the shortness of our faculties, and that we are in nowise judges of many things of which we are apt to think ourselves very compe¬ tent ones. Nor will this be any objection with reasonable men; at least, upon second thought, it will not be ahy objec¬ tion with such, against the justness of the following observa¬ tions. As God governs the world, and instructs his creatures, ac¬ cording to certain laws or rules, in the known course of na¬ ture, known by reason together with experience; so the Scripture informs us of a scheme of divine Providence, addi¬ tional to this, it relates, that God has, by revelation, in¬ structed men in things concerning his government, which they could not otherwise have known, and reminded them of things which they might otherwise know ; and attested the truth of the whole by miracles. Now, if the natural and the revealed dispensation of things are both from God, if they coincide with each other, and together ma^^s up “^heme 162 THE CREDIBILITY OF REVELATION [PART 11* of Providence, our being incompetent judges of one, must render it credible that we may be incompetent judges also of the other. Since, upon experience, the acknowledged con¬ stitution and course of nature is found to be greatly different from what, before experience, would have been expected; and such as, men fancy, there lie great objections agtiinst: This renders it beforehand highly credible, that they may find the revealed dispensation likewise, if they judge of it as they do of the constitution of nature, very diflerent from ex¬ pectations formed beforehand; and liable, in appearance, to great objections: objections against the scheme itself, and against the degrees and manners of the miraculous interposi¬ tions, by which it was attested and carried on Thus, sup¬ pose a prince to govern his dominions in the wisest manner possible, by common known laws ; and that upon some exi¬ gencies he should suspend these laws, and govern, in several instances, in a different manner: if one of his subjects were not a competent judge beforehand, by what common rules the government should or would be carried on, it could not be expected that the same person would be a competent judge, in what exigencies, or in what manner, or to what degree, those laws commonly observed would be suspended or de¬ viated from. If he v/ere not a judge of the wisdom of the ordinary administration, there is no reason to think he would be a judge of the wisdom of the extraordinary. Fhe thought he had objections against the former, doubtless, it is highly supposable, he might think also, that he had objections against the latter. And thus, as we fall into infinite follies and mistakes, whenever we pretend, otherwise than from ex¬ perience and analogy, to judge of the constitution and course of nature, it is evidently supposable beforehaml, that we should fall into as great, in pretending to judge, in like manner, con¬ cerning revelation. Nor is there any more ground to expect that this latter should appear to us clear of objections, than that the former should. These observations, relating to the whole of Christianity, are applicable to inspiration in particular. As we are in no sort judges beforehand, by what laws or rules, in what degree, or by what means, it were to have been expected that God would naturally instruct us; so, upon supposition of his affording us light and instruction by revelation, additional to what he has afforded us by reason and experience, we are in no sort judges, by what methods, and in what proportion, it were to be expected that this supernatural light and instruc- C3HAP. III.] LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS 163 tion would be afforded us. We know not beforehand, what degree or kind of natural information it were to be expected God would afford men, each by his own reason and experi¬ ence ; nor how far he would enable, and effectually dispose them to communicate it, whatever it should bej to each other; nor whether the evidence of it would be certain, highly pro¬ bable, or doubtful; nor whether it would be given with equal clearness and conviction to all. Nor could we guess, upon any good ground I mean, whether natural knowledge, or even the faculty itself by which we are capable of attaining it, reason, would be given us at once, or gradually. In like manner,, we are wholly ignorant what degree of new know¬ ledge it were to be expected God would give mankind by revelation, upon supposition of his affording one ; or how far, or in what way, he 'Would interpose miraculously, to qualify them, to whom he should originally make the revelation, for communicating the knowledge given by it; and to secure their doing it to the age in which they should live, and to secure its being transmitted to posterity. We are equally ignorant, whether the evidence of it would be certain, or highly probable, or doubtful er whether all who should have any degree of instruction from it, and any degree of evi¬ dence of its truth, would have the same; or whether the scheme would be revealed at once, or unfolded gradually. Nay, we are not in any sort able to judge, whether it were to have been expected, that the revelation should have been committed to writing ; or left to be handed down, and conse¬ quently corrupted, by verbal tradition, and at length sunk under it, if mankind so pleased, and during such tirr.e as they are permitted, in the degree they evidently are^ to act as they will But it may be said, ‘ that a revelation in some of the above-mentioned circumstances ; one, for instance, which was not committed to writing, and thus secured against danger of corruption, would not have answered its purpose.’ I ask, what purpose ? It would not have answered all the purposes which it has now answered, aUd in the same degree ; but it would have answered others, or the same in different degrees. And which of these were the purposes of God, and best fell in with his general government, we could not at all have de¬ termined beforehand. f Now since it has been shown, that we have no principles * See Chap. 6. 164 THE CREDIBILITY OF REVELATION [PART 11 of reason upon which to judge beforehand, how it were to be expected revelation should have been left, or what was most suitable to the divine plan of government, in any of the fore- mentioned respects ; it must be quite frivolous to object after¬ wards as to any of them, against its being left in one way, rather than another; for this would be to object against things, upon account of their being different from expecia- tions which have been shown to be without reason. And thus we see, that the only question concerning the truth of Christianity is, whether it be a real revelation; hot'Whether it be attended with every circumstance which we should have looked for: and concerning the authority of Scripture, whether it be W'^hat it claims to be ; not whether it be a book of such sort, and so promulged, as w’'eak men are apt to fancy a book containing a divine revelation should. And therefore neither obscurity, nor seeming inaccuracy of style, nor various readings, nor early disputes about the authors of particular parts, nor any other things of the Jike kind, though’ they had been much more considerable in degree than- they are, could overthrow the authority of the Scripture; unless the Prophets, Apostles, or our Lord, bed promised, that the book, containing the divine revelation, should be secure from those things. Nor indeed can any objections overthrow such a kind of revelation as the Christian claims to be, since there are no objections against the morality of it, but such as can show, that there is no proof of miracles wrought originally in attestation of it ; no appearance of any thing miraculous in its obtaining in the wmrld ; nor any of prophecy, that is, of events foretold, which human sagacity could not foresee. If it can be shown, that the proof alleged for all these is ab¬ solutely none at all, then is revelation overturned. But were it allowed, that the proof of any one, or all of them, is lower than is allowed ; yet whilst any pfoOf of them remains, reve¬ lation will stand upon much the same foot it does at present^ as to all the purposes of life and practice, arid ought to have the like influence upon our behaviour. From the foregoing observations, toO, it will follow, arid those who will thoroughly examine into revelation will find it worth remarking, that there are several w^ays of arguing, which, though just wflth regard to other waitings, are not ap¬ plicable to Scripture ; at least not to the prophetic parts of it. We cannot argue, for instance, that this cannot be the sense CHAP. III.] LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS. 165 or intent of such a passage of Scripture, for if it had, it would have been expressed more plainly, or have been represented untler a more apt figure or hieroglyphic ; yet we may justly argue thus, with respect to common books. And the reason of this diflference is very evident; that in Scripture we are not competent judges, as we are in common books, how plainly j it were to have been expected, what is the true sense should - have been expressed, or under how apt an image figured. The only question is, what appearance there is that this is the sense ? and scarce at all, how much more determinately or accurately it might have been expressed or figured 1 ‘ But is it not self-evident, that internal improbabilities of all kinds, weaken external pr''bable proof V Doubtless. But to what practical purpose can this be alleged here, when it has been proved before, that real internal improbabilities, which rise even to moral certainty, are overcome by the most ordinary testimony % and when it now has been made appear, that we scarce know what are improbabilities, as to the mat¬ ter we are here considering ? as it will farther appear from what follows. For though, from the observations above made, it is mani- ‘• fest, that we are not in any sort competent judges, what -su¬ pernatural instruction were to have been expected; and though it is self-evident, that the objections of an incompetent judgment must be frivolous ; yet it may be proper to go one step farther, and observe, that if men will be regardless of these things, and pretend to judge of the Scripture by pre¬ conceived expectations, the analogy of nature shows before¬ hand, not only that it is highly credible they may, but also probable that they will, imagine they have strong objections against it, however really unexceptionable; for so, prior to experience, they would think they had, against the circum¬ stances, and degrees, and the whole manner of that instruc¬ tion, which is afforded by the ordinary course of nature. Were the mstruction which God affords to brute creatures by instincts and mere propensions, and to mankind by these to¬ gether with reason, matter of probable proof, and not of cer¬ tain observation, it would be rejected as incredible, in many instances of it, only upon account of the means by which this instruction is given, the seeming disproportions, the limita¬ tions, necessary conditions, and circumstances of it. For in¬ stance : Would it not have been thought highly improbable, \ 106 THE CREDIBILITY OF REVELATION [PART IL that men should have been so much more capable of disco* vering, even to certainty, the general laws of matter, and the magnitudes, paths, and revolutions of the heavenly bodies ; than the occasions and cures of distempers, and many other things, in which human life seems so much more nearly con¬ cerned, than in astronomy 1 How capricious and irregular a way of information, would it be said, is that of invention, by means of which nature instructs us in matters of science, and in many things upon which the affairs of the world greatly depend ; that a man should, by this faculty be made ac¬ quainted with a thing in an instant, when, perhaps, he is thinking of somewhat else, which he has in vain been search¬ ing after, it may be, for years. So likewise the imperfections attending the only method by which nature enables and di¬ rects us to communicate our thoughts to each other, are in¬ numerable. Language is, in its very nature, inadequate, ambiguous, liable to infinite abuse, even from negligence; and so liable to it from design, that every man can deceive and betray by it. And, to mention but one instance more^ that brutes, without reason, should act, in many respects, with a sagacity and foresight vastly greater than what men have in those respects, would be thought impossible. Yet it is certain they do act with such superior foresight; whether it be their own, indeed, is another question. From these things it is highly credible beforehand, that upon supposition God should afford men some additional instruction by revela¬ tion, it would be with circumstances, in manners, degrees, and respects, which we should be apt to fancy we had great objections against the credibility of. Nor are the objections against the Scripture, nor against Christianity in general, at all more or greater than the analogy of nature would before¬ hand,—not perhaps give ground to expect; for this analogy may not be sufficient, in some cases, to ground an expecta¬ tion upon;—but no rnore nor greater, than analogy would show it, beforehand, to be supposable and credible, that there might seem to lie against revelation. By applying these general observations to a particular ob¬ jection, it will be more distinctly seen, how'" they are applica¬ ble to others of the like kind; and indeed to almost all ob¬ jections against Christianity, as distinguished from objections against its evideiice. It appears from Scripture, that as it was not unusual, in the apostolic age, for persons, upon their con¬ version to Christianity, to be endued with miraculous gifts ; so, some of those persons exercised these gifts in a strangely CHAP. III.J LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS. 167 irregular and disorderly manner : and this is made an objec¬ tion against their being really miraculous. Now, the fore¬ going observations quite remove this objection, how consider¬ able soever it may appear at first sight. For, consider a per¬ son endued with any of these gifts, for instance, that of tongues; it is to be supposed, that he had the same power over this miraculous gift, as he would have had over it, had it been the effect of habit, of study, and use, as it ordinarily is; or the same power over it, as he had over any other na¬ tural endowment. Consequently, .he would use it in the same manner he did any other ; either regularly and upon proper occasions only, or irregularly and upon improper ones; ac¬ cording to his sense of decenejq and his character of prudence. Where, then, is the objection 1 Whjq if this miraculous pow¬ er was indeed given to the world to propagate Christianity and attest the truth of it, we might, it seems, have expected, that other sort of persons should have been chosen to be in vested with it; or that these should, at the same time, have been endued with prudence ; or that they should have been continually restrained and directed in the exercise of it; i. e. that God should have miraculously interposed, if at all, in a different manner or higher degree. But, from the observa¬ tions made above, it is undeniably evident, that we are not judges in what degrees and manners it were to have been ex¬ pected he should miraculously interpose; upon supposition of his doing it in some degree and manner. Nor, in the na¬ tural course of Providence, are superior gifts of memory, elo¬ quence, knowledge, and othei talents of great influence, con¬ ferred only on j}ersons of prudence and decency, or such as are disposed to make the properest use of them. Nor is the instruction and admonition naturally afforded us for the con¬ duct of life, particularly in our education, commonly given in a manner the most stiited to recommend it; but often with circumstances, apt to prejudice us against such instruction, . One might go on to add, that there is a great resemblance between the light of nature and of revelation, in several other respects. Practical Christianity, or that faith and behaviour which renders a man a Christian, is a plain and obvious thing ; like the common rules of conduct, with respect to our ordinary temporal affairs. The more distinct and particular knowledge of those things, the stud}^ of which the Apostle calls, going on unio perfeciiou* and of the prophetic parts * Heb. VL 1. 168 THE CREDIBILITY OP REVELATION [PART II. of revelation, like many parts of natural and even civil know* ledge, may require very exact thought and careful considera¬ tion. The hinderances, too, of natural and of supernatural light and knowledge, have been of the same kind, And as it is owned the whole scheme of Scripture is not yet under¬ stood, so, if it ever comes to be understood, before the restitu¬ tion of all things^* and without miraculous interpositions, it must he in the same way as natural knowledge is come at; by the continuance and progress of learning and of liberty, and by particular persons, attending to, comparing and pur¬ suing, intimations scattered up and down it, which are over¬ looked and disregarded by the generality of the wcrld. For this is the way in which all improvements are made; by thoughtful men tracing on obscure hints, as it were, dropped us by nature accidentally, or which seem to come into our minds by chance. Nor is it at all incredible, that a book, which has been so long in the possession of mankind, should con¬ tain many truths as yet undiscovered. For, all the same phenomena, and the same faculties of investigation, from which such great discoveries in natural knowledge have been made in the present and last age, were equally in the pos¬ session of mankind several thousand years before. And pos¬ sibly it might be intended, that events, as they come to pass, should open and ascertain the meaning of several parts of Scripture. It may be objected, that this analogy fails in a material re¬ spect ; for that natural knowledge is of little or no conse¬ quence. But I have been speaking of the general instruction, which nature does or does not afford us. And besides, some parts of natural knowledge, in the more comtnon restrained sense of the words, are of the greatest consequence to the ease and convenience of life. But suppose the analogy did, as it does not, fail in this respect, yet it might be abundantly supplied from the whole constitution and course of nature ; which shows, that God does not dispense his gifts according to our notions of the advantage and consequence they would be of to us. And this in general, with his method of dis¬ pensing knowledge in particular, would togethev make out an analogy full to the point before us. But it may be objected still farther, and more generally ; ‘The Scripture represents the world as in a state of ruin, and Christianity as an expedient to recover it, to help in these le- * Acts iii. 21. CHAP. III.] LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS. 109 spects where nature fails ; in particular to supply the deficien¬ cies of natural light. Is it credible, then, that so many ages should have been let pass, before a matter of such a sort, of so great and so general importance, was made known to man¬ kind ; and then that it should be made known to so small a part of them % Is it conceivable, that this supply should be so very deficient, should have the like obscurity and doubtful¬ ness, be liable to the like perversions, in short, lie open to all the like objections, as the light of nature itself Without determining how far this in fact is so, I answer, it is by no means incredible that it might be so, if the light of nature and of revelation be from the same hand. Men are naturally liable to diseases ; for which God, in his good providence, has pro¬ vided natural remedies, j* But remedies existing in nature have been unknown to mankind for many ages ; are known but to few now; probably many valuable ones are not known yet. Great has been, and is, the obscurity and difficulty, in the nature and application of them. Circumstances seem often to make them very improper, where they are absolutely necessary. It is after long labor and study, and many unsuc¬ cessful endeavours, that they are brought to be as useful as they are; after high contempt and absolute rejection of the most useful we have ; and after disputes and doubts, which have seemed to be endless. The best remedies, too, when unskilfully, much more if dishonestly, applied, may produce new diseases ; and, with the rightest application, the success of them is often doubtful. In many cases, they are not at all effectual; where they are, it is often very slowly ; and the application of them, and the necessary regimen accompany¬ ing it, is, not uncommonly, so disagreeable, that some will not submit to them ; and satisfy themselves with the excuse, that if they would, it is not certain whether it would be suc¬ cessful. And many persons, who labor under diseases, for which there are known natural remedies, are not so happy as to be always, if ever, in the way of them. In a word, the remedies which nature has provided for diseases, are neither certain, perfect, nor universal. And indeed the same princi¬ ples of arguing, which would lead us to conclude that they must be so, would lead us likewise to conclude that there could be no occasion for them; i. e. that there could be no diseases at all. And, therefore, our experience that there are diseases, shows, that it is credible beforehand, upon supposition nature * Chap. 6. 28 t See Chap, 5. 170 THE CREDIBILITY OF REVELATION i'ART II. has ’provided remedies for them, that these remedies may be as by experience we find they are, not certain, nor perfect, noi universal; because it shows, that the principles upon which we should expect the contrary, are fallacious. And now, what is the just consequence from all these things ? Not that reason is no judge of what is offered to us as being of divine revelation. For this would be to infer, that we are unable to judge of any thing, because we are unable to judge of all things. Reason can, and it ought to judge, not only of the meaning, but also of the morality and the evidence, of revelation. Ffrsf, It is the province of rea¬ son to judge of the morality of the Scripture ; i. e. not whe¬ ther it contains things different from what we sho>ild have expected from a wise, just and good Being ; for objections from hence have been now obviated ; but whether it contains things plainly contradictory to wisdom, justice, or goodness; to what the light of nature teaches us of God. And 1 know np- Ihing of this sort objected against Scripture, excepting such ob¬ jections as are formed upon suppositions, which would equally conclude, that the constitution of nature is contradictory to wisdom, justice, or goodness ; which most certainly it is not. Indeed, there are some particular precepts in Scripture, given to particular persons, requiring actions, which would be im¬ moral and vicious, were it not for such precepts. But it is easy to see, that all these are of such a kind, as that the pre¬ cept changes the whole nature of the case and of the ac¬ tion ; and both constitutes and shows that not to be unjust or immoral, which, prior to the precept, must have appeared and really have been so: which may well be, since none of these precepts are contrary to immutable morality. If it were com¬ manded, to cultivate the principles, and act from the spirit of treachery, ingratitude, cruelty ; the command would not alter the nature of the case, or of the action in any of these instan¬ ces. But it is quite otherwi&e in precepts which require only the doing an external action ; for instance, taking away the property or life of any. For men have no right to either life or property, but what arises solely frc^i the grant of God. When this grant is revoked, they cease to have any rights at ail in either ; and when this revocation is made known, as surely it is possible it may be, it must cease to be unjust to deprive them of either. And though a course of external acts, which without command v/ouid be immoral, must make an immoral habit, yet a few detached commands have no such CHAP. III.] LIABLE TO OBJECTIONS. 171 natural tendency. I thought proper to say thus much of the few Scripture precepts, which require, not vicious acrions, but actions which would have been vicious, had it not been for such precepts ; because they are sometimes weakly urged as immoral, and great weight is laid upon objections drawn from them. But to me there seems no difficulty at all in these precepts, but what arises from their being offences; i. e. from their being liable to be perverted, as indeed they are, by wicked designing men, to serve the most horrid pur¬ poses, and perhaps, to mislead the weak and enthusiastic. And objections from this head are not objections against revela¬ tion, but against the whole notion of religion, as a trial; and against the general constitution of nature. Secondly^ Rea¬ son is able to judge, and must, of the evidence of revelation, and of the objections urged against that e^ddence; which shall be the subject of a following chapter.* But the consequence of the foregoing observations is, that the question upon which the truth of Christianity depends, is scarce at all, what objections there are against its scheme, since there are none against the morality of it; but what ob¬ jections there are against its evidence : or, what froof there remains of it^ after due alloivances made for the objections against that proof. Because it has been shown, that the ob¬ jections against Christianity, as distinguished from objections against its evidence, are frivolous. For surely very little weight, if any at ail, is to be laid upon a way of arguing and objecting, which, when applied to the general constitution of nature, experience shows nottobe conclusive: and such, I think, is the whole way of objecting treated of throughout this chap¬ ter. It is resolvable into principles, and goes upon suppositions, which mislead us to think, that the Author of nature would not act, as we experience he does ; or would act, in such and such cases, as we experience he does not in like cases. But the unreasonableness of this way of objecting will appear yet more evidently from hence, that the chief things thus ob¬ jected against, are justified, as shall be farther shown,j* by distinct, particular, and full analogies, in the constitution and course of nature. But it is to be remembered, that as frivolous as objections of the foregoing sort against revelation are, yet, when a sup¬ posed revelation is more consistent with itself, and has a Chap. 7. t Chap. 4, latter part; and 5^6. 172 THE CREDIBILITY OF REVELATION, &C. [PART IL more general and uniform tendency to promote virtue, than, all circumstances considered, could have been expected from enthusiam and political views ; this is a presumptive proof of its not proceeding from them, and so of its truth ; because we are competent judges, what might have been expected from enthusiasm and political views. CHAP, iv ] CHRISTIANITY AS A SCHEME, &C. 173 ( CHAPTER IV. Of Christianity^ considered as a Scheme or Constitution^ imperfectly comprehended. It hath been now shown,* that the analogy of nature ren- I ders it highly credible beforehand, that, supposing a revelation I to be made, it must contain many things very different from ^ what we should have expected, and such as appear open to great objections ; and that this observation, in good measure, I takes off the force of those objections, or rather precludes them, j But it may be alleged, that this is a very partial answer to / such objections, or a very unsatisfactory way of obviating 1 them: because it doth not show at all, that the things object- ( ed against can be wise, just, and good ; much less, that it ^ is credible they are so. It will therefore be proper to show this distinctly, by applying to these objections against the wis¬ dom, justice, and goodness of Christianity, the answer abovef given to the like objections against the constitution of nature ; before we consider the particular analogies in the latter, to the particular things objected against in the former. Now, that which affords a sufficient answer to objections against the wisdom, justice, and goodness of the constitution of nature, is its being a constitution, a system or scheme, imperfectly comprehended; a scheme, in which means are made use of tc accomplish ends ; and which is carried on by general laws. For, from these things it has been proved, not only to be pos- , sible, but also to be credible, that those things which are ob¬ jected against, may be consistent with wisdom, justice, and goodness ; nay, may be instances of them: and even that the constitution and government of nature may be perfect in the highest possible degree. If Christianity, then, be a scheme, ' and of the like kind, it is evident, the like objections against it must admit of the like answer. And, ♦ In the foregoing Chapter. T Part i» Chap. 7, to which this all along refers. 174 CHRISTIANITY A SCHEME [pAliT II. / I. Christianitj is a scheme, quite beyond our comprehen¬ sion. The moral government of God is exercised, by giadu- ^ ally conducting things so in the course of his providence, ttiai every one, at length, and upon the whole, shall receive accord¬ ing to his deserts; and neither fraud nor violence, but truth and right, shall finally prevail. Christianity is a particular scheme under this general plan of providence, and a part of it, conducive to its completion, with regard to mankind ; consist¬ ing itself also of various parts, and a mysterious economy which has been carrying on from the time the world came into its present wretched state, and is still carrying on, for its recovery, by a divine person, the Messiah ; * who is to gather together in on*^, the children of God that are scattered abroad, and establish ‘ an everlasting kingdom, wherein dwelleth righteousness.’! And in order to it, after various manifesta¬ tions of things, relating to this great and general scheme ol Providence, through a succession of many ages ;—(‘ for the Spirit of Christ, which was in the prophets, testified before¬ hand his sufferings, and the glory that should follow: unto whom it was revealed, that not unto themselves, but unto us, they did minister the things which are now reported unto us by them that have preached the gospel; which things the angels desire to look into :’J)—after various dispensations, looking forward and preparatory to this final salvation, ‘ In the fulness of time,’ when infinite wisdom thought fit. He, ‘ being in the form of God, made himself of no reputation, and took upon himself the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men; and being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient to death, even the death of the cross: wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name; that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in the earth, and things under the earth ; and that ev’ery tongue should confess, that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.’§ Parts likewise of this economy are the miraculous mission of the Holj^ Ghost, and his ordl- ' nary assistances given to good men ; the invisible government wdiich Christ at present exercises over his Church: that which j he himself refers to in these words,|| ‘In my father’s house I are many mansions—I go to prepare a place for you;’ and \ his future return to ‘judge the wmrld in righteousness, and V/ ♦ John xi. 52. 12 Pet. iii. 13- I 1 Pet. 1 . 11, 12. j Phil it II Jolin xiv. 2. CHAP. IV.] IMPERFECTLY COMPREHENDED. 175 completely re-establish the kingdom of God. ‘ For the Fa¬ ther judgeth no man ; but hath committed all judgment unto the Son : that all men should honour the Son, even as thej honour the Father.* All power is given unto him in heaven and in earth."f And he must reign, till he hath put all ene¬ mies under his feet. Then cometh the end, when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Father; when he shall have put down all rule, and all authority and power. And when -all things shall be subdued unto him, then shall the Son also himself be subject unto him that put f all things under him, that God may be all in all.’J Now^m little, surely, need be said to show, that this system, or scheme i of things, is but imperfectly comprehended by us. The j Scripture expressly asserts it to be so. And, indeed, one { cannot read a passage relating to this ‘ great mystery of godliness,’§ but what immediately runs up into something , which shows us our ignorance in it; as every thing in nature j shows us our ignorance in the constitution of nature. And whoever will seriously consider that part of the Christian scheme which is revealed in Scripture, will find so much more unrevealed, as will convince him, that, to all the purpo¬ ses of judging and objecting, we know as little of it, as of the constitution of nature. Our ignorance, therefore, is as much an answer to our objections against the perfection of one, as j against the perfection of the other. II. It is obvious, too, that in the Christian dispensation, as much as in the natural scheme of things, means are made use of to accomplish ends. And the observation of this furnishes us with the same answers to objections against the perfection of Christianity, as to objections of the like kind against the con¬ stitution of nature. It shows the credibility, that the things objected against, how foolish^ soever they appear to men, may be the very best means of accomplishing the very best ends. And their appearing foolishness is no presumption against this, in a scheme so greatly beyond our comprehen¬ sion. III. The credibility, that the Christian dispensation may have been, all along, carried on by general laws, no less"than the course of nature, may require to be more distinctly made out. Consider, then, upon what ground it is we say, that the * John V. 22, 23. § 1 Tim, iii. i6. t Matt, xxviii. 18. J 1 Cor. XV. H 1 Cor. i. 18, &c. 176 CHRISTIANITY AS A SCHEME [part II. whole common course of nature is carried on according to gen¬ eral fore-ordained laws. We know, indeed, several of the gen¬ eral laws of matter; and a great part qf the natural behaviour of living agents is reducible to general laws. But we know, in a manner, nothing, by what laws, storms, and tempests, earth¬ quakes, famine, pestilence, become the instruments of destruc¬ tion to mankind. And the laws by which persons born into the world at such a time and place, are of such capacities, ge¬ niuses, tempers ; the laws, by which thoughts come into oui mind, in a multitude of cases ; and by which innumerable things happen, of the greatest influence upon the affairs and state of the world: these laws are so wholly unknown to us, that we call the events, which come to pass by them, acci¬ dental ; though all reasonable men know certainly, that there cannot, in reality, be any such thing as chance ; and conclude, drat the things which have this appearance, are the result of general laws, and may be reduced into them. It is then but an exceeding little way, and hit but a very few respects, that we can trace up the natural course of things before us, to general laws. And it is only from analogy that we conclude the whole of it to be capable of being reduced into them , only from our seeing, that part is so. It is ifom pur finding, that the course of nature, in some respects and so far, goes on by general laws, that we conclude this of the rest. And if that be a just ground for such a conclusion, it is a just ground also, if not to conclude, yet to comprehend, to render it suppos- able and credible, which is sufficient for answering objections, that God’s miraculous interpositions may have been, all along, in like manner, by general laws of wisdom. Thus, that mira¬ culous powers should be exerted at such times, upon such occasions, in such degrees and manners, and with regard to such persons, rather than others ; that the affairs of the world, being permitted to go on in their natural course so far, should, just at such a point, have anew direction given them by miraculous interpositions ; that these interpositions should be exactly in such degrees and respects only: all this may have been by general laws. These laws are unknown, indeed, to us; but no more unknown, than the laws from whence it is, that some die as soon as they are boni, and others live to extreme old age ; that one man is so superior to another in understanding; with innumerable more things, which, as was before observed, we cannot reduce to any laws or rules at all, though it is taken for granted, they are as much reducible to general ones as gravitation. ^JSTow, if the CHAP. IV. IMPERFECTLY COMPREHENDED. Ill revealed dispensations of Providence, and miraculous interpo^ sitions, be bj general laws, as well as God’s ordinary govern¬ ment in the course of nature, made known by reason and experience ; there is no more reason to expect that every exi¬ gence, as it arises, should be provided for by these general laws of miraculous interposition, than that every exigence in nature should, by the general laws of nature : yet there might be wise and good reasons, that miraculous interpositions should be by general laws ; and that these laws should not be broken in upon, or deviated from, by other miracles. Upon the whole, then, the appearances of deficiencies and irregularities in nature, is owing to its being a scheme but in part made known and of such a certain particular kind in other respects. Now we see no more reason, why the frame and course of nature should be such a scheme, than why Christianity should. And that the former is such a scheme, renders it credible, that the latter, upon supposition of its truth, may be so too. And as it is manifest, that Christianity is a scheme revealed but in part, and a scheme in which means are made use of to accomplish ends, like to that of nature; so the credibility that it may have been all along carried on by general laws no less than the course of nature, has been distinctly proved. And from all this it is beforehand credible, that there might, I think probable that there v/ould, be the like appearance of deficiencies and irregularities in Christianity as in nature; i. e. that Christianity would be liable to the like objections, as the frame of nature. And these objections are answered by these observations concern¬ ing Christianity; as the like objections against the frame of nature, are answered by the like observations concerning the frame of nature. The objections against Christianity, considered as a matter of fact, having, in general, been obviated in the preceding chapter: and the same, considered as made against the wis¬ dom and goodness of it, having been obviated in this; the next thing, according to the method proposed, is to show, that the principal objections in particular, against Christianity, may be answered by particular and full analogies in nature. And as one of them is made against the whole scheme of it CHRISTIANITY AS A SCHEME [PART H. lYS I together, as just now described, I choose to consider it here, rather than in a distinct chapter by itself. The thing objected against this scheme of the gospel is, ‘ That it seems to sup¬ pose God was reduced to the necessity of a long series of in¬ tricate means, in order to accomplish his ends, the recovery and salvation of the world; in like sort as men, for want of understanding, or power, not being able to come at their ends directly, are forced to go round about ways, and make use of many perplexed contrivances to arrive at them.’ Now, every thing which we see shows the folly of this, considered as an objection against the truth of Christianity. For, according to our manner of conception, God makes use of variety of means, what we often think tedious ones, in the natural course of providence, for the accomplishment of all his ends. Indeed, it is certain, there is somewhat in this matter quite beyond our comprehension; but the mystery is as great in nature as in Christianity. We know what we ourselves aim at, as final ends ; and what courses we take, merely as means conducing to those ends. But we are greatly ignorant, how far things are considered by the Author of nature, under the single notion of means and ends ; so as that it may be said, this is merely an end, and that merely means, in his regard. And whether there be not some peculiar absurdity in our very manner of conception concerning this matter somewhat con¬ tradictory, arising from our extremely imperfect views of things, it is impossible to say. However, thus much is mani¬ fest, that the whole natural world and government of it is a scheme, or system; not a fixed, but a progressive one: a scheme, in which the operation of various means takes up a great length of time, before the ends they tend to can be at tained. The change of seasons, the ripening of the fruits ol the earth, the very history of a flower, is an instance of this; and so is human life. Thus, vegetable bodies, and those oi animals, though possibly formed at once, yet grow up by de¬ grees to a mature state. And thus rational agents, who animate these latter bodies, are naturally directed to form, each his own manners and character, by the gradual gaining of knowledge and experience, and by a long course of action. Our existence is not onlj'- successive, as it must be of necessity, but one state of our life and being is appointed by God to be a preparation for another; and that, to be the means of at¬ taining to another succeeding one: Infancy to childhood; childhood to youth; youth to mature age. Men are impa¬ tient, and for precipitating things; but the Author of nature CHAP. IV.] IMPERFECTLY COMPREHENDED. 119 appears deliberate throughout his operations ; accomplishing his natural ends by slow successive steps. And theie is a plan of things beforehand laid out, which, from the nature of : ' j i it, requires various systems of means, as well as length of ^ time, in order to the carrying on its several parts into execu- I tion. Thus, in the daily course of natural providence, God ; operates in the very same manner as in the dispensation of 1 Christianity: making one thing subservient to another ; this, to somewhat farther ; and so on, through a progressive series of means, which extend, both backward and forward, beyond our utmost view. Of this manner of operation, every thing we see in the course of nature is as much an instance, as ajiv part of the Christian dispensation. m Cj THE APPOINTMENT OP [part n. ISO CHAPTER V, Of the particular System of Christianity ; the Appointment of a Alediator^ and the Redemption of the World by him. _ » There is not, I think, any thing relating to Christianity, I which has been more objected against, than the mediation of Christ, in some or other of its parts. Yet, upon thorough consideration, there seems nothing less justly liable to it. For, I. The whole analogy of nature removes all imagined pre¬ sumption against the general notion of ‘ a Mediator between God and man.’* For we find, all living creatures are brought into the world, and their life in infancy is preserved, by the instrumentality of others ; and every satisfaction of it, some way or other, is bestowed by the like means. So that the visible government, which God exercises over the world, is by the instrumentality and mediation of others. And how far his invisible government be or be not so, it is impossible to determine at all by reason. And the supposition, that part of it is so, appears, to say the least, altogether as credible as the contrary. There is then no sort of objection, from the light of nature, against the general notion of a mediator be¬ tween God and man, considered as a doctrine of Christianity, or as an appointment in this dispensation; since we find, by experience, that God does appoint mediators, to be the instru¬ ments of good and evil to us, the instruments of his justice and his mercy. And the objection here referred to is urged, not against mediation ih that high, eminent, and peculiar sense, in which Christ is our mediator; but absolutely against the whole notion itself of a mediator at all. II. As we must suppose, that the world is under the * 1 Tim, ii. 5. CHaK V. ] A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. isi proper moral government of God, or in a state of religion, be» fore we can enter into consideration of the revealed doctrine concerning the redemption of it hy Christ j so that supposi¬ tion is here to be distinctly taken notice of. Now, the divine moral government which religion teaches us, implies, that the consequence of vice shall be misery, ill some future state, by the righteous judgment of God. That such coiisequelit pun¬ ishment shall take effect by his appointment, is necessaiily*- implied. But, as it is riot in any sort to be supposed, that we are made acquainted with all the ends or reasons for which it is fit future punishment should be inflicted, or why God has appointed such arid such consequent misery should fol¬ low vice; and as we are altogether in the dark, how or in ivhat manner it shall follow, by what immediate Occasions, or by the instriimeiitality of what means; there is n j ab-' surdity in supposing, it may follow in a way analogous to that in which many miseries follow such and such course.^ of action at present; poverty, sickness, infamy, untimely death by discasesj death from the hands of civil justice There is no absurdity in supposing future punishment may follow wickedness of course, as we speak, or in the way of natural consequences, from God’s original constitution of the i world ; from the nature he has given us, and from the condi i tion hi which lie places us : or, in like manner, as a person i rashly trifling upon a precipice, in the way of natural conse-! quence, falls down ; in the way of natural consequence, breaks j his limbs, suppose ; in the way of natural consequence of this, j without help, perishes. ... ^ Some good raeii may, perhaps, be offended, with hearing it spoken of as a supposable thing, that the future punish¬ ments of wickedness may be in the way of natural conse¬ quence ; as if this were taking the execution of justice out of the hands of God, and giving it to liature. But they should remember that when things come to pass according to the course of nature, this does not hinder them from being his doings who is the God of nature ; and that tile Scripture as¬ cribes those punishments to divine justice, which are knowli to be natural; and which must be called so, when distin¬ guished from such as afe miraculous. But, after all, thk supposition, or rather this way of speakihg, is liere made use of only by way of illustration of the subject before us. For, since it must be admitted, that tire future punishment of wickedness is not a matter of arbitrary appointment, but of reason, equity, and justice; it comes, for aught I see, to the 162 THE APPOINTMENT OF [part li. ejame thing, whether it is supposed to be inflicted in a way analogous to that in which the temporal punishments of vice and folly are inflicted, or in any other waj^ And though there were a difference, it is allowable in the present case to make this supposition, plainly not an incredible one, That Future punishment may follow wickedness in the way of natural consequence, or according to some general laws of government already established in the universe. III. Upon this supposition, or even without it, we may j observe somewhat, much to the present purpose, in the con- I stitution of nature, or appointments of Providence: the pro¬ vision which is made, that all the bad natural consequences , of men’s actions should not always actually follow ; or, that such bad consequences, as, according to the settled course of things, would inevitably have followed, if not prevented, should, in certain degrees, be prevented. We are apt, pre* sumptuously, to imaginej that the world might have been so eonstituted, as that there would not have been any such thing as misery or evil. On the contrary, we find the Author of nature permits it. But then, he has provided reliefs, and, in many cases, perfect remedies for it, after some pains and difficulties ; reliefs and remedies even for that evil, which is the fruit of our owil misconduct, and which, in the course of nature, would have continued, and ended in our destruction, but for such remedies. And this is an iilstarlce both of se¬ verity and of indulgence, in the constitution of nature. Thus, all the bad consequences, now meiitidned, of a man’s trifling upon a precipice, might be prevented. And, though all were not, yet some of them might, by proper interposition, if not rejected; by another’s coming to the rash man’s relief, with his own laying hold on that relief, in such sort as the case requires. Iversons may do a great deal themselves towards preventing the bad consequences of their follies ; and more may be done by themselves, together with the assistance of othsrs, their fellow creatures; which assistance nature re¬ quires and prompts us to. This is the general constitution of the world. Now, suppose it had been, so constituted, that after such actions were done, as were foreseen naturally to draw after them misery to the doer, it should have been no more in human power to have prevented that naturally con¬ sequent misery, in any instance, than it is, in all; no one can say, whether such a more severe constitution of things might not yet have been really good. But that, on the contrary, provision is male by nature, that we may and do, to so great euAP. V.] A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. degree, prevent the bad natural effects of our follies ; this*^ may be called mercy, or compassion, in the original constitu¬ tion of the world; compassion, as distinguished from good-j ness in general. And, the whole known constitution and course of things affording us instances of such compassion, it would be according to the analogy of nature to hope, that, however ruinous the natural consequences of vice might be, i from the genera,! laws of God’s government over the universe, J yet provision might be made, possibly might have been i originally made, for preventing those ruinoiis consequences • from inevitably following; at least from following universally, j and in all cases. Many, I am sensible, will tvmnder at finding this made a question, or spoken of as in any degree doubtful. The gene¬ rality of mankind are so far from having that awful sense of things, which the present state of vice and misery and dark¬ ness seems to make but reasonable, that they have scarce any apprehension, or thought at all, about this matter, any way ; and some serious persons may have spoken unadvisedly com cerning it. But let us observe, what we experience to be, and , what, from the very constitution of nature, cannot but be, the consequences Of irregular ahd disorderly behaviour ; even of such rashness, wilfulness, neglects, as We scarce call viciOus. Now, it is natural to apprehend, that the bad consequences of irregularity will be greater, in proportion as the irregularity is J so. And there is no comparison between these irregularities, and the greater instances of vice, or a dissolute profligate dis¬ regard to all religion; if there be any thing at all in religion For, consider what it is for creatures, moral agents, presump tuously to introduce that confusion and misery into the king¬ dom of God, which mankind have, in fact, introduced; to blas¬ pheme the sovereign Lord of all; to contemn his authoiity ; to be injurious to the degree they are, to their fellow-creatures, the creatures of God. Add, that the effects of vice, in the pre^t sent world, are often extreme misery, irretrievable ruin, and | even death : and, upon putting all this together, it will appear, that as no one can say, in what degree fatal the unprevented consequences of vice may be, according to the general rule of divine government; so it is by no means intuitively certain, how far these consequences could possibly, in the nattire of the! thing, be prevented, consistently with the eternal rule of right, \ or with what is, in fact, the moral constitution of nature/ However, there would be large ground to hope, that the uni- j versal government was not so severely strict, but that there/ ■ / J 184 THE APPOINTMENT OF PART n was room for pardon, or for having those penal consequences prevented. Yet, IV. There seems no probability, that any thing we could do, would alone, and of itself, prevent them; prevent their fol¬ lowing, or being inflicted. But one would think, at least, it were impossible that the contrary should be thought certain. For we are not acquainted with the whole of the case. We are not informed of all the reasons, which render it fit that future punishments should be inflicted ; and, therefore, cannot know, whether any thing we could do would make such an alteration, as to render it fit that they should be remitted. We do not know, what the whole natural or appointed consequen¬ ces of vice are, nor in what way they would follow, if not pre¬ vented ; and, therefore, can in no sort say, whether we could do any thing, which would be sufficient to prevent them. Our ignorance being thus manifest, let us recollect the analogy of nature, or providence. F or though this may be but a slight ground to raise a positive opinion upon in this matter, yet it is sufficient to answer a mere arbitrary assertion, without any I kind of evidence, urged by way of objection against a doctrine, \ the proof of which is not reason, but revelation. Consider, /then, people ruin their fortunes by extravagance ; they bring diseases upon themselves by excess ; they incur the penalties of civil laws, and surely civil government is natural: will sor¬ row for these follies past, and behaving well for the future, alone and of itself, prevent the natural consequences of them ? \On the coritrary, men’s natural abilities of helping themselves are often impaired; or, if not, yet they are forced to be be¬ holden to the assistance of others, upon several accounts, and in different ways: assistance which they would have had no occasion for, had it not been for their misconduct; but which, in the disadvantageous condition they have reduced them¬ selves to, is ab^lutely necessarj'- to their recovery, and re¬ trieving their affairs. Now, since this is our case, considering ourselves merely as inhabitants of this world, and as having a temporal interest here, under the natural government of God, which, however, has a great deal moral in it; why is it not supposable, that this may be our case also in our more important capacity, as under his perfect moral government, and havirlg a more general and future interest depending ? If we have misbehaved in this higher capacity, and rendered ourselves obnoxious to the future punishment which God has annexed to vice ; it is plainly credible, that behaving well fol 185 CHAiP. V.] A MeDiatoJi and redeemed. the time to come, may be— not useless, God forbid—but wholly insufficient,' alone and of itself, to prevent that punish- ment; or to put us in the condition which we should have been in, had we preserved our innocence. And though we ought to reason with all reverence, when¬ ever we reason concerning the divine conduct, yet it may be added, that it is clearly contrary tO all our notions of govern¬ ment, as well as to what is, in fact, the general constitution of naturcj to suppose that doing well for the future, should in all cases, prevent all the judicial bad consequences of hav¬ ing done evil, or all the punishment annexed to disobedience. And we have manifestly nothing from whence to determine, in what degree, and in what cases, reformation would pro vent this punishm-ent, even supposing that it would in some. And, though the efficacy of repentance itself alone, to pre¬ vent what mankind had rendered themselves obnoxious to, and recover what they had forfeited, is now insisted upon, in opposition to Christianity; jmt, by the general prevalence of propitiatory sacrifices over the heathen world, this notion, of repentance alohe being sufficient to expiate guilt, appears to be contrary to the general sense of mankind. Upon the whole, then, had the laws, the general laws of God’s government, been permitted to operate, without any interposition in our behalf, the future punishment, for aught w'e know to the contrary, or have any reason to think, must inevitably have followed, notwithstanding any thing we could have done to prevent it. Now, V. In this darkness, or this light of nature, call it which you please, revelation comes in; confirms every doubting fear, wffiich could enter into the heart of man, concerning the future Un¬ prevented consequence of wickedness ; supposes the world to be in a state of ruin, (a supposition which seems the very ground of the Christian dispensation, and which, if notproveable by reason, yet it is in no wise contrary to it;) teaches us, too, that the rules of divine government are such, as not to admit of pardon immediately aUd directly upon repentance, or by the sole efficacy of it; but then teaches, at the same time, what nature might justly have hoped, that the moral government of the universe was not so rigid, but that there was room for an interposition to avert the fatal consequences of vice; which therefore, by this means, does admit of pardon. Revelation teaches us, that the unknown laws of God’s more general government, no less than the particular laws by which we THE APPOINTMENT OP [part JI, 186 \ experience be governs us at present, are compassionate,* as well as good, in the more general notion of goodness ; and that he hath mercifully provided, that there should he an interposition to prevent the destruction of human kind, what¬ ever that destruction unprevented would have been. ‘ God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth,’ not, to be sure, in a speculative, but in a practical sense, ‘ that whosoever believeth in him should not perish;’'I' gave his son in the same way of goodness to the world, as he affords particular persons the friendly assistance of their fellow-creatures, when, without it, their temporal ruin would be the certain consequence of their follies; in the same way of goodness, I say, though in a transcendent and infinitely higher degree. And the Son of God ‘ loved us, and have himself for us,’ with a love which he himself compares to that of human friendship ; though, in this case, all com- • parisons must fall infinitely short of the thing intended to be illustrated by them. He interposed in such a manner, as was necessary and effectual to prevent that execution of jus¬ tice upon sinners, which God had appointed should otherwise have been executed upon them ; or in such a manner, as to prevent that punishment from actually following, which, according to the general laws of divine government, must have followed the sins of the world, had it-not been for such interposition.J If any thing here said should appear, upon first thought, inconsistent with divine goodness, a second, I am persuaded, * Page 128,&c. f John iii. 16i 1 It cannot, I suppose, be imagined, even by the most cursory reader, that it is, in any sort, affii'med, or implied, in any thing said in this chap¬ ter, that none can have the benefit of the general redemption, but such as have the advantage of being made acquainted with it in the present life.—But, it may be needful to mention, that several questions, which have been brought into the subject before us, and determined, are not in the least entered into here; questions which have been, I fear, rashly determined, and, perhaps, Avith equal rashness, contrary Avays. For in¬ stance : Whether God could have sa\'ed the Avorld by other means than the death ofChrist, consistently Avith the general laws of hisgovernment ? And, had not Christ came into the Avorld, Avhat AVould haA^e been the future condition of the better sort of men ; those just persons oA'er the face of the earth, for whom Manasses in his prayer asserts, repentance was not appointed ? The meaning of the first of these questions is greatly ambiguous ; and neither of theni can properly be answ'ered, without going upon that infinitely absurd supposition, that we know the Avhole of the case. And, perhaps, the very inquiry, what wmdd have followed if God had not done as he has 7 may have in it some very great impropriety ; and ought not to be carried on any farther than is neces- t^ry to help our partial and inadequate conceptions of things. CHAP. V.] A HEDIATOH AND REDEEMER. l87 will entirely remove that appearance. For, were we to sup¬ pose the constitution of things to be such, as that the whole creation must have perished, had it not been for somewhat, which God had appointed should be in order to prevent that rum ; even this supposition would not be inconsistent, in any de¬ gree, with the most absolutely perfect goodness. But still itmay be thought, that this whole manner of treating the subject be¬ fore us, supposes mankind to be naturally in a very strange state. And truly so it does. But it is not Christianity v. hich , has put us into this state Whoever will consider the manifold miseries, and the extreme wickedness of the world ; that the best have great wrongnesses with themselves, which they con plain of, and endeavour to amend; but, that the gene¬ rality grow more profligate and corrupt with age ; that hea¬ then moralists thought the present state to be a state of punish¬ ment; and, what might be added, that the earth, ourhabitalioU, has the appearance of being a ruin : whoever, I say, '^vill con¬ sider all these, and some other obvious things, will think he has little reason to object against the Scripture account, that mankind is in a state of degradation ; against this being the fact: how difficult soever he may think it to account for, or even to form a distinct conception of, the Occasions and cir-^ cumstances of it. But that the crime of our first parents was^> the occasion of oUr being placed in a more disadvantageous condition, is a thing throughout, and particularly analogous to what we see, in the daily course of natural Providence ; as the recovery of the world, by the interposition of Christ, has been shown to be so in general. VI. The particular manner in which Christ interposed in the redemption of the world, or his office as Mediator, in the largest sense, between God and man^ is thus represented to us in the Scripture : ‘ He is the light of the world the re- vealer of the will of God in the most eminent sense : He is a propitiatory sacrifice ;p ‘ the Lamb of God ;’t and as he vo¬ luntarily offered himself up, he is styled our High-Priest.§ And, which seems of peculiar weight, he is described before, hand in the Old Testament, under the same characters of a priest, and expiatory victim. [| And whereas it is objected, * John i. and viii. 12. t Rom. iii. 25, and v. 11. 1 Cor. v. 7. Eph. v. 2. 1 Jtohn IL 2. Matt. xxvi. 28. I John i. 29, 36, and throughout the book of Revelation. § Throughout the Epistle to the Hebrews. || Isa liii. Dan. ix. 24. Psalm cx. 4. 188 THE APPOINTMENT OF [part II. tliat all this is merely by way of allusion to the sacrifices of the Mosaic law, the apostle, on the contrary, affirms, that thfe ‘ law was a shahow of good things to come, and not the very image of the things and that the piiests that offer gifts according to the law—serve unto the example and shadow of heavenly things, as Moses was admonished of God, when he was about to make the tabernacle. ‘ For see,’ saith he, ‘ that thou make all things according to the pattern showed to thee in the mount f'f i. e. the Levitical priesthood was a shadow of the priesthood of Christ, in like manner as the ta¬ bernacle made b}^ Moses .was according to that showed him in the Mount. The priesthood of Christ and the tabernacle in the Mount, weie the originals; of the former of which, the Levitical priesthood was a type ; and of the latter, the taber¬ nacle made by Moses was a copy. The doctrine of this epistle, then, plainly is, that the le^al sacrifices were allusions to the great and final atonement to be made by the blood of Christ; and not that this was an allusion to those. Nor can any thing be more express and determinate, than the follow¬ ing passage ; ‘ It is not possible that the blood of bulls and of goats should take away sin. Wherefore, when he cometh into the world, he saith. Sacrifice and offering,’ i. e. of bulla and of goats, ‘ thou wouldst not, but a body hast thou pre¬ pared me-—Lo, I come to do thy will, O God.—By which will we are sanctified, through the oft'ering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.’J And to add one passage more of the like kind : ‘ Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many; and unto them that look for him shall he appear the second time, without sin ;’ i. e. without bearing sin, as he did at his first coming, by being an offering for it; without having our iniquilics again laid upon him^ without being any/ more a sin-offering ‘ Unto them that look fOr him shall lieK appear the second time, without sin, unto salvation.’^ Nor ' do the inspired writers at all confine themselves to this man ner of speaking concerning the satisfaction of Christ, but de¬ clare an efficacy in what he did and suffered for us, additional to, and beyond mere instruction, example, and government, in a great variety of expression: ‘ ff'hat Jesus should die for that nation/ the Jews ; ‘ and not for that nation only, but that also,’ plainly by the efficacy of his death, ‘ he together in one the children of God that " + Heb. X. 1. t Heb. viii. 4, 5. tHeb. x. 4, 5, 7, 9, IC). § Heb. ix. 28. should gather i^ere scattered. CHAP. V.j A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. 189 abroad that ‘ he suffered for sins, the just for the unjust that ‘ he gave liis life, himself, a ransomJ that ‘ we are bought, bought with a price :’§ that ‘ he redeemed us with his blood; redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for usjj that he is our^ ‘ advocate, intercessor, and propitiation fU that ‘ he was made perfect (or consum¬ mate) through sufferings ; and being thus made perfect, he became the author of salvation:’^* that ‘God was in Christ, reconciling the world to himself, bj the death of his Son. bj the cross; not imputing their trespasses unto them ■f'f and, lastly, that ‘through death he,^ destroyed him that had the power of death.’JJ Christ, then, having thus ‘humbled himself, and become obedient to death, even the death of the cross, God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name ; hath given all things into his hands; hath committed all judgment unto him ; that all men should honor the Son, even as they honor the ,Father.’§§ For, ‘worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and uisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing! And every creature which is in heaven, and on the earth, heard I, saying. Blessing, and honor, and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever !’||jj These passages of Scripture seem to comprehend and ex press the chief parts of Christ’s office, as mediator between God and man ; so far, I mean, as the nature of this his office is revealed, and it is usually treated of by divines under three heads. First, He was, by the way of eminence, the Prophet; ‘ that Prophet that should come into the world,’irTr to declare the di¬ vine will. He published anew the law of nature, which men had corrupted; and the very knowledge of which, to some degree, was lost among them. He taught mankind, taught us authoritatively, to ‘ live soberly, righteously and godly in + John xi. 51,52. 11 Pet. iii. 18. f Matt. XX. 23. Mark x. 45. 1 Tim. ii. 6. h 2 Pet, ii. 1. Rev. xiv. 4. 1 Cor. vi. 20. {( 1 Pet. i. 19. Rev. v. 9. Gal. iii, 13. k Heb. vii. 25. I John ii. 1, 2. ** Heb. ii. 10, and v. 9. tt 2 Cor. V. ik Rom. v. 10. Eph. ii. 16. JJ Heb. ii. 14. See also a remarkable passage in the book (rf Job, xxxiii. 24. §§Phil. ii. 8, 9.' John iii. 35, and y,. 22, 23. [j[jRev. V. 12, 13. ^^Johnvi. 14. 190 THE APPOINTMENT OP [part II. tliis present world/ in expectation of the future judgment of God. He confirmed the truth of this moral system of nature, and gave us additional evidence of it: the evidence of testi¬ mony.* He distinctly revealed the manner in which God would be worshipped, the efficacy of repentance, and the re¬ wards and punishments of a future life. Thus he was a pro¬ phet in a sense in which no other ever was. To which is to be added, that he set us a perfect ‘ example, that we siiould follow his steps.’-' Secondlyj He has a ‘ kingdom, which is not of this world.’ He founded a church, to be to mankind a standing memorial of religion, and invitation to it; which he promised to be with always, even to the end. He exercises an invisible govern¬ ment over it himself, and by his Spirit; over that part of ic which is militant here on earth, a government of discipline, ‘ for the perfecting of the saints, for the edifying his body ; till we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ.’j* Of this church, all persons scattered over the world, who live in obedience to his laws, are members. For these he is ‘ gone to prepare a place, and will come again to receive them unto himself, that where he is, there they may be also ; and reign with him for ever and ever and likewise ‘ to take vengeance on them that know not God, and obey not his gospel.’§ Against these parts of Christ’s office, I find no objections but what are fully obviated in the beginning of this Chapter. ^ Lastly^ Christ offered himself a propitiatory sacrifice, and 1 made atonement for the sins of the world : which is mentioned last, in regard to what is objected against it. Sacrifices of ex¬ piation were commanded the Jews, and obtained amongst most other nations^ from tradition, whose original probably was reve- ^ lation. And they were continually repeated, both occasion- I ally and at the returns of stated times ; and made up great part of the external religion of mankind. ‘ But now once in [ the end of the world Christ appeared, to put away sin by the ! sacrifice of himself.’|| And this sacrifice was in the highest degree, and with the most extensive influence, of that efficacj' for obtaining pardon of sin, which the heathens may be sup¬ posed to have thought their sacrifices to have been, and which\ * Page 163, &c. I Epli. iv. 12, 13. f John xiv. 2, 3. Rev. iii, 21, and xi. 15. § 2 Thess. i. 8. 11 Hcb, ix. 26,. CHAP. V. A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. 191 the Jewish sacrifices really were in some degree, and with regard to some persons. How, and in what particular way, it had this efficacy, there are not wanting persons who have endeavoured to explain; but I do not find that the Scripture has explained it. We seem to be very much in the dark concerning the manner in which the ancients understood atonement to be made, i. c. par¬ don to be obtained, by sacrifices. And if the Scripture has, as surely it has, left this matter of the satisfaction of Christ mysterious, left somewhat in it unrevealed, all conjectures about it must be, if not evidently absurd, yet at least uncer¬ tain. Nor has any one reason to complain for want of far¬ ther information, unless he can sho^v his claim to it. Some have endeavoured to explain the efficacy of what Christ has done and suffered for us, beyond what the Scrip ture has authorized ; others, probably because they could not explain it, have been for taking it away, and confining his office as Redeemer of the world, to his instruction, example, and go vernment of the church ; whereas the doctrine of the gospel appears to be, not only that he taught the efficacy of repen¬ tance, but rendered it of tire efficacy which it is, by what he did and suffered for us; that lie obtained for us the benefit of having our repentance accepted unto eternal life ; not only that he revealed to sinners, that they were in a capacity of salva¬ tion, and how they might obtain it; but, moreover, that he put them into this capacity of salvation, by what he did and suf¬ fered for them ; put us into a capacity of escaping future pun¬ ishment, and obtaining future happiness. And it is our wis¬ dom thankfully to accept the benefit, bj^ performing the con¬ ditions upon which it is offered, on our part, without disputing how it was procured on his. For, VII. Since we neither know by what means punishment in a future state would have followed wickedness in this ; nor in what manner it would have been inflicted, had it not been prevented ; nor all the reasons why its infliction would have been needful; nor the particular nature of that state of hap¬ piness which Christ has gone to prepare for his disciples; and since we are ignorant how far any thing which we could do, would, alone and of itself, have been effectual to prevent that punishment to which we are obnoxious, and recover that happiness which we had forfeited ; it is most evident we are not judges, antecedently to revelation, whether a mediator was or was not necessary to obtain those ends; to prevent that future punishment, and bring mankind to the final hap ; 192 THE APPOINTMENT OF [part II, piiiess of their nature. And for the very same reasons, upon supposition of the necessity of a mediator, we are no more judges, antecedently to revelation, of the whole nature of his / office, or the several parts of which it consists ; of what was fit and requisite to be assigned him, in order to accomplish the ends of divine Providence in the appointment. And from hence it follows, that to object against the expediency or use¬ fulness of particular things revealed to have been done or suffered by him, because we do not see how they were conducive to those ends, is highly absurd. Yet nothing is more common to be met with, than this absurdity. But if it be acknowledged beforehand, that we are not judges in the case, it is evident that no objection can, with any shadow of reason, be urged against any particular part of Christ’s medi¬ atorial office revealed in Scripture, till it can be shown posi¬ tively, not to be requisite, or conducive, to the ends proposed to be accomplished ; or that it is in itself unreasonable. And there is one objection made against the satisfaction of \ Christ, which looks to be of this positive kind; that tire doc¬ trine of his being appointer] to suffer for the sins of the world, represents God as being indifferent whetlier he punished the innocent or the guilty. Now, from the foregoing observa ' tions, we may see the extreme slightness of all such objec tions ; and, (though it is most certain all who make them do not see the consequence,) that they conclude altogether as much against God’s whole original constitution of nature, and the whole daily course of divine Providence, in the go¬ vernment of the world, i. e. against the whole scheme of theism and the whole notion of religion, as against Christianity". For the world is a constitution, or system, whose parts have a mutual reference to each other; apd there is a scheme of things gradually carrying on, called the course of nature, to the carrying on of which God has appointed us, in various ways, to contribute. And when, in the daily course of natural providence, it is appointed that innocent people should suffer for the faults of the guilty, this is liable to the very same objection as the instance we are now considering. The infinitely greater importance of that appointment of Chris¬ tianity which is objected against, does not hinder but it may be, as it plainly is, an appointment of the very same kind with what the world affords us daily examples of Nay, if there were any force at all in the objection, it would be I stronger, in one respect, against natural providence, than against Christianity; because, under the former, we are in CHAP. V.] A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. 193 many cases commanded, and even necessitated, whether we will or no, to suffer for the faults of others ; whereas the sufferings of Christ were voluntary. The world’s being under the righteous government of God, does indeed imply, that finally, and upon the whole, every one shall receive ac- \ cording to his personal deserts ; and the general doctrine of the whole Scripture is, that this shall be the completion of the divine government. But, during the progress, and, for ought we know, even in order to the completion of this moral scheme, vicarious punishments may be fit, and absolutely necessary. Men, by their follies, run themselves into ex¬ treme distress; into difficulties which would be absolutely fatal to them, were it not for the interposition and assistance of others. God commands by the law of nature, that we afford them this assistance, in many cases where we cannot do it without very great pains, and labour, and sufferings to ourselves. And we see in what variety of ways one person’s sufferings contribute to the relief of another; and how, or by what particular means, this comes to pass, or follows, from the constitution and laws of nature, which come under our notice; and being familiarized to it, men are not shocked with it. So that the reason of their insisting upon objections ■ of the foregoing kind, against the satisfaction of Christ, is, | either that they do not consider God’s settled and uniform ap- ! pointment as his appointment at all, or else they forget that ; vicarious punishment is a providential appointment of every ^ day’s experience: and then, from their being unacquainted with the more general laws of nature, or divine government over the world, and not seeing how the sufferings of Christ could contribute to the redemption of it, unless by arbitrary and tyrannical will, they conclude his sufferings could not contribute to it any other way. And yet, what has been '' often alleged in justification of this doctrine, even from the | apparent natural tendency of this method of our redemption— its tendency to vindicate the authority of God’s laws, and deter his creatures from sin: this has never yet been an¬ swered, and is, I think, plainly unanswerable ; though I am far from thinking it an account of the whole of the case. But without taking this into consideration, it abundantly appears, from the observations above made, that this objection is, not an objection against Christianity, but against the whole general constitution of nature. And if it were to be consid- \ ered as an objection against Christianity, or considering it as I H is, an obiection against the constitution of nature, it amounts J 9 194 THE APPOINTMENT OF [part II, I to no more in conclusion than this, that a divine appointment > cannot be necessary, or expedient, because the objector does I not discern it to be so ; though he must own that the nature I of the case is such, as renders him incapable of judging whe« I ther it be so or not; or of seeing it to be necessary, though it were so. y It is indeed a matter of great patience to reasonable men, / to find people arguing in this manner; objecting against the / credibility of such particular things revealed in Scripture, that they do not see the necessity or expediency of them. For, though it is highly right, and the most pious exercise of our understanding, to inquire with due reverence into the ends and reasons of God’s dispensations ; yet, when those reasons are concealed, to argue from our ignorance, that such dis¬ pensations cannot be from God, is infinitely absurd. The presumption of this kind of objections seems almost lost in the folly of them. And the folly of them is yet greater, when they are urged, as usually they are, against things in Chris¬ tianity analogous, or like to those natural dispensations of Providence, which are matter of experience. Let reason be kept to; and, if any part of the Scripture account of the re¬ demption of the world by Christ can be shown to be really con¬ trary to it, let the Scripture, in the name of God be given up: but let not such poor creatures as we, go on objecting against an infinite scheme, that we do not see the necessity or usefulness of all its parts, and call this reasoning ; and, which sLll far- ' ther heightens the absurdity in the present case, parts uhich we are not actively concerned in. For, it may be worth men¬ tioning. Lasthjj That not only the reason of the thing, but the whole analogy of nature, should teach us, not to expect to have the like information concerning the divine conduct, as concerning our own duty. God instructs iis by experience, (for it is not reason, but experience, which instructs us,) what good or bad consequences wall follow^ from our acting in such and such manners ; and by this he directs us how we are to behave ourselves. But, though we are sufficiently in¬ structed for the common purposes of life, yet it is but an almost infinitely small part of natural providence which we are at all let into. The case is the same with regard to revelation. The doctrine of a mediator between God and man, against which it is objected, that the expediency of some things in it is not understood, relates only to wdiat was done op God’s part in the appointment, and on the Mediator’s CHAP, V,] A MEDIATOR AND REDEEMER. 195 in the execution of it. For what is required of us, in con* eequence of this gracious dispensation, is another subject, in which none can complain for want of information. The con¬ stitution of the world, and God’s natural governme'iit over it, , is all mystery, as much as the Christian dispensation. Yet ; under the first, he has given men all things pertaining to life; / and under the other, all things pertaining unto godliness. AndJ it may be added, that there is nothing hard to be accounted for in any of the common precepts of Christianity ; though, if there were, surely a divine command is abundantly suf¬ ficient to lay us under the strongest obbgations to obedience. But the fact is, that the reasons of all the Christian preceptsV / are evident. ' Positive institutions are manifestly necessary to keep up and propagate religion among/1 mankind. And bur ^ duty to Christ, the internal and external worship of him ; this part of the religion of the gospel manifestly arises out of what he has done and suffered, his authority and dominion, and the relation which he is revealed to stand in to us. ) 19G REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL : [part II. CHAPTER VI. Of the want of Universality in Revelation; and of the sttp^ posed Deficiency in the Proof of it. It has been thought by some persons, that if the evidence of revelation appears doubtful, this itself turns into a positive argument against it; because it cannot be supposed, that, if it were true, it would be left to subsist upon doubtful evidence And the objection against revelation, from its not being uni* versal, is often insisted upon as of great weight. Now, the weakness of these opinions may be shown, by observing the suppositions on which they are founded, which are really such as these;—that it cannot be thought God would have bestowed any favour at all upon us, unless in the degree which, we think, he might, and which, we imagine, would be most to our particular advantage ; and also, that it cannot be thought he would bestow a favour upon any, unless he bestowed the same upon all: suppositions which we find contradicted, not by a few instances in God’s natural govern¬ ment of the world, but by the general analogy of nature together. Persons who speak of the erddence of religion as doubtful, and of this supposed doubtfulness as a positive argument against it, should be put upon considering, what that evidence indeed is, which they act upon with regard to their tempo¬ ral interests. For, it is not only extremely difficult, but, in many cases, absolutely impossible, to balance pleasure and pain, satisfaction and uneasiness, so as to be able to say, on which side the overplus is. There are the like difficulties and impossibilities, in making the due allowances for a change of temper and taste, for satiety, disgusts, ill health ; any of which render men incapable of enjoying, after they have obtained, what they most eagerly desired. Numberless, too, are the accidents, besides that one of untimely death, which may even probably disappoint the best concert’er'' schemes: and CHAP. VI.J SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF. 197 Strong objections are often seen to lie against them, not to be removed or answered, but which seem overbalanced by rea¬ sons on the other side ; so as that the certain difficulties and dangers of the pursuit are, by every one, thought justly dis¬ regarded, upon account of there appearing greater advantages in case of success, though there be but little probability of it. Lastly, Every one observes our liableness, if we be not upon our guard, to be deceived by the falsehood of men, and the false appearances of things; and this danger must be greatly in¬ creased, if there be a strong bias within, suppose from indulged passion, to favour the deceit. Hence arises that ,great uncer¬ tainty and doubtfulness of proof, wherein our temporal inter¬ est really consists; what are the most probable means of attaining it ; and whether those means will eventually be successful. And numberless instances there are, in the dailj^ course of life, in which all men think it reasonable to engage in pursuits, though the probability is greatlj^ against succeed¬ ing ; and to make such provision for themselves, as it is sup- posable they may have occasion for, though the plain acknow¬ ledged probability is, that thej^ never shall. Then those who think the objection against revelation, from its light not being . universal, to be of weight, should observe, that the Author of nature, in numberless instances, bestows that upon some, which he does not upon others, who seem equallj^ to stand in need of it. Indeed, he appears to bestow all his gifts with the most promiscuous variety, among creatures of the same species : health and strength, capacities of prudence and of knowledge, means of improvement, riches, and all external ad¬ vantages. And as there are not any two men found of exactly like shape and features, so, it is probable, there are not any two i of an exactly like constitution, temper, and situation, with re^- gard to the goods and evils of life. Yet, notwithstanding these uncertainties and varieties, God does exercise a natural government over the world ; and there is such a thing as a prudent and imprudent institution of life, with regard tc our j health and our affairs, under that his natural government. ^ As neither the Jewish nor Christian revelation have been universal, and as they have been afforded to a greater or less part of the world, at different times, so, likewise, at different , times, both revelations have had different degrees of evidence. The Jews who lived during the succession of prophets, that ^ is, from Moses till after the Captivity, had higher evidence of ,■ the truth of their religion, than those had who lived in the interval between the last-mentioned period and the coming of 198 ' REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL : [PART li. Christ. And the first Chrisiians-had higher evidence of the miracles wrought in attestation of Christianity than what we have now. They had also a strong presumptive proof of the truth of it, perhaps of much greater force, in way of argu¬ ment, than many may think, of which we have very little re¬ maining I mean, the presumptive proof of its truth from the influence which it had upon the lives of the generality of its professors. And we, or future ages, may possibly have a proof of it, which they could not have, from the conformity between the prophetic history, and the state of the world, and of Chris¬ tianity. And farther : If we were to suppose the evidence, which some have of religion, to amount to little more than seeing that it may be true, but that they remain in great doubts and uncertainties about both its evidence and its nature, and great perplexities concerning the rule of life; others to have a full conviction of the truth of religion, with a distinct know ledge of their duty ; and others severally to have all the inter¬ mediate degrees of religious light and evidence, which lie be¬ tween these two.—If we put the case, that for the present it was intended revelation should be no more than a small light, in the midst of a world greatly overspread, notwithstanding it, with ignorance and darkness; that certain glimmerings of this light should extend, and be directed, to remote distances, in such a manner as that those who really partook of it should not discern from whence it originally came ; that some, in a nearer situation to it, should have its light ob¬ scured, and, in different ways and degrees, intercepted ; and that others should be placed within its clearer influence, and be much more enlivened, cheered, and directed by it; but yet, that even to these it should be no more than ‘ a light shining in a dark place f all this would be perfectly uniform and of a piece with the conduct of Providence, in the distribution of its other blessings. If the fact of the case really were, that some have received no light at all from the Scrinture ; as many ages and countries in the heathen world ; that others, though they have, by means of it, had essential or natural religion enforced upon their consciences, yet have never had the genuine Scripture revelation, with its real evidence, pro¬ posed to their consideration; and the ancient Persians and modern Mahometans may possibly be instances of people in a situation somewhat like to this: that others, though they have had the Scripture laid before them as of divine revela¬ tion, yet ha^'e had it with the system and evidence of Chris¬ tianity so interpolated, the system so corrupted, the evidence CHAP. VI.] SUPPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF. 199 BO blended with false miracles, as to leave the mind in the utmost doubtfulness and uncertainty about the whole ; which may be the state of some tho'ughtful men in most of those na¬ tions who call themselves Christian: and, lastly^ that others have had Christianity offered to them in its genuine simpiicity, and with its proper evidence, as persons in countries and churches of civil and of Christian liberty ; but, however, that even these persons are left in great ignorance in many respects, and have by no means light afforded them enough to satisfy their curiosity, but only to regulate their life, to teach them their duty, and encourage them in the careful discharge of it: I say, if we were to suppose this somewhat of a general true account of the degrees of moral and reli¬ gious light and evidence, which were intended to be afforded mankind, and of what has actually been and is their situa¬ tion, in their moral and religious capacity, there would be nothing in all this ignorance, doubtfulness, and uncertainty, in all these varieties and supposed disadvantages of some in comparison of others, respecting religion, but may'be paralleled by manifest analogies in the natural dispensations of Provi¬ dence at present, and considering ourselves merely in our temporal capacity. Nor is there any thing shocking in all this, or which would seem to bear hard upon the moral administration in nature, if we would really keep in mind, that every one should be dealt equitably with ; instead of forgetting this, or explaining it away, after it is acknowledged in words. All shadow of' injustice, and indeed all harsh appearances, in this various economy of Providence, would be lost, if we would keep in mind, that every merciful allowance should be made, and no more be required of any one, than what might have been equitably expected of him, from the circumstances in which he was placed ; and not what might have been expected, had he been placed in other circumstances: i. e. in Scripture lan¬ guage, that every man shall be ‘ accepted according to*what he had, not according to what he had not.’"'^^ This, however,. , doth not by any means imply, that all persons’ condition here^ is equally advantageous with respect to futurity. And Providence’s designing to place some in greater darkness ' with respect to religious knowledge, is no more a reason why they should not endeavour to get out of that darkness, and others to bring them out of it, than why ignorant and slow ( I * 2 Cor. viii. 12. 200 REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL : [PART II« people, in matters of other knowledge, should not endeavour to learn, or should not be instructed. It is not unreasonable to suppose, that the same wise and good principle, whatever it was, which disposed the Author of nature to make different kinds and orders of creatures, dis¬ posed him also to place creatures of like kinds in different situations; and that the same principle which disposed him to make creatures of different moral capacities, disposed him also to place creatures of like moral capacities in different reli¬ gious situations ; and even the same creatures, in different pe¬ riods of their- being. And the account or reason of this, is also most probably the account why the constitution of things is such, as that creatures of moral natures or capacities, for a ‘ Cl ‘ considerable part of that duration in which they are living agents, are not at all subjects of morality and religion ; but grow up to be so, and grow up to be so more and more, gra¬ dually, from childhood to mature age. What, in particular, is the account or reason of these things, we must be greatly in the dark, were it only that we know so very little even of our own case. Our present state may possibly be the consequence of somewhat past, which we are wholly ignorant of; as it has a reference to somewhat to come, of which we know scarce any more than is neces¬ sary for practice. A system or constitution, in its notion, implies variety; and so complicated a one as this world, very great variety. So that were revelation universal, yet from ^ men’s different capacities of understanding, from the different lengths of their lives, their different educations and other ex- ternal circumstances, and from their difference of temper and bodily constitution, their religious situations would be widely different, and the disadvantage of some in comparison of others, perhaps, altogether as much as at present. And the true account, whatever it be, why mankind, or such a part of mankind, are placed in this condition of ignorance, must be supposed also the true account of our farther ignorance, in not knowing the reasons' why, or whence it is, that they are placed in this condition. But the following practical reflec¬ tions may deserve the serious consideration of those persons, who think the circumstances of mankind, or their own, in the forementioned respects, a ground of complaint. First, The evidence of religion not appearing obvious, may constitute one particular part of some men’s trial in the religious sense ; as it gives scope for a virtuous exercise, or vdcious neglect, of their understanding, in examining or not CHAP. VI.] SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF. 201 examining into that evidence. There seems no possible rea¬ son to be given, why we may not be in a .state of moral pro¬ bation, with regard to the exercise of our understanding upon the subject of religion, asyve are with regard to our behaviour in common affairs. The former is as much a thing within our power and choice as the latter.. And 1 suppose it is to be laid down for certain, that the same character,,the same inward principle, which, after a n^an is convinced of the truth of religion, renders him obedient to the precepts of it, would, were he not thus convinced, set him about an exam¬ ination of it, upon its system and evidence being offered to his thoughts ; and that in the latter state, his examination would be with an impartiality, seriousness, and solicitude, proportion- able to what his obedience is in the former. And as inattem tion, negligence, want of all serious concern, about a matter of such a nature and such importance, when offered to men’s consideration, is, before a distinct conviction of its truth, as real immoral depravity and dissoluteness, as neglect of reli¬ gious practice after such conviction; so, active solicitude about it, and fair impartial consideration of its evidence before such conviction, is as really an exercise of a morally right temper, as is religious practice after. Thus, that religion is not intuitively true, but a matter of deduction and inference ; that a conviction of its truth is not forced upon every one. but left to be, by some, collected with heedful attention to premises ; this 'as much constitutes religious probation, as much affords sphere, scope, opportunity, for right and wrong behaviour, as any thing whatever does. And their manner of treating this subject, when laid before thpm, shows w^hat is in their heart, and is an exertion of it. Secondlyj It appears to be a thing as evident, though it is not so much attended to, that if, upon consideration of religion, the evidence of it should seem to any persons doubtful ip the highest supposable degree, even this doubtful evidence will, however, put them into a general stale of probation^ in the moral and religious sense. For, suppose a man to be really in doubt, whether such a person had not done him the greats- est favor ; or, whether his whole temporal interest did not de¬ pend upon that person; no one who had any sense of grati¬ tude and of prudence, could possibly consider himself in the same situation, with r<^gard to such person, as if he had no , such doubt. In truth, it is as just to say, that certainty and doubt are the same, as to say, the situations now mentioned would leave a man as entirely at liberty, in point of gratitude * * 202 REVELA.TION NOT UNIVERSAL: [PART 11. or prudence, as he would be, were he certain he had received no favor from such person, or that he no way depended upon him. Aiid thus, though the evidence of religion which is afforded to some men, should be little more than that they arc given to see the system of Christianity, or religion in general, to be supposable and credible, this ought in all reason to beget a serious practical apprehension that it may be true. And even this will afford matter of exercise, for religious suspense and deliberation, for moral resolution and self-government; because the apprehension that religion may be true, does as really lay men under obligations, as -a full conviction that it is true. It gives occasion and motives to consider farther the important subject; to preserve attentively upon their minds a general implicit sense that they may be under divine moral government, an awful solicitude about religion, whether na¬ tural or revealed. Such apprehension ought to turn men’s eyes to every degree of new light which may be had, from whatever side it comes, and induce them to refrain, in the mean time, from all immoralities, and live in the conscientious practice of every common virtue. Especially are they bound to keep at the greatest distance from all dissolute profaneness --for this the very nature of the case forbids ; and to treat ■w ith highest reverence a matter upon which their own whole, interest and being, apd the fate of nature depends. This be¬ haviour, and an active endeavour to maintain within them¬ selves this temper,.is the business, the duty and the wisdom of those persons, who complain of the doubtfulness of reli¬ gion ; is what they are under the most proper obligations to; and such behaviour is an exertion of, and has a tendency to improve in them, that character, which the practice of all the several duties of religion, from a full conviction of its truth, is an exertion of, and has a tendency to improve in others; others, I say, to whom God has afforded such conviction- Nay, considering the infinite importance of religion, revealed as well as natural, I think it may be said in general, that who¬ ever will weigh the matter thoroughly, may see there is not near so much difference as is commonly imagined, between what ought in reason to be the rule of life, to those persons who are fully convinced of its truth, and to those who have only a serious doubting apprehension that it may be true. Their hopes, and fears, and obligations, will be in various degrees; but as the subject-matter of their hopes and fears is the same, so the subject-matter of their obligations, what thej^ are bound to do and to refrain from, is not so very unbke CHAP. VI.J SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF. 203 It is to be observed farther, that, from a character of under¬ standing, or a situation of influence in the world, some per¬ sons have it in their power to do infinitely more harm or good, by setting an example of profaneness, and avowed disregard to all religion, or, on the contrary, of a serious, though perhaps doubting, apprehension of its truth, and of a reverend regard to it under this doubtfulness, than they can do by acting well or ill in all the common intercourses amongst mankind ; and consequently they are most highly accountable for a beha¬ viour, which, they may easily foresee, is of such importance, and in which there is most plainly a right and a wrong ; even admitting fhe evidence of religion to be as doubtful as is pre¬ tended. The ground of these observations, and that which renders them just and true, is, that doubting necessarily implies some -degree of evidence for that of which we doubt. For no per¬ son would be in doubt concerning the truth of a number of facts so and so circumstanced, which should accidentally come into his thoughts, and of which he had no evidence at ail. And though in the case of an even chance, and where conse¬ quently we were in doubt, we should in common language say, that we had no evidence at all for either side ; yet that situa¬ tion of things which renders it an even chance and no more that such an event will happen, renders this case equivalent to all others, where there is such evidence on both sides of a question,* as leaves the mind in doubt concerning the truth. Indeed, in all these cases, there is no more evidence on the one side than on the other ; but there is (what is equivalent to) much more for either, than for the truth of a number of facts which come into one’s thoughts at random. And thus, in all these cases, doubt as much presupposes evidence, Ipwer degrees of evidence, as belief presupposes higher, and cer¬ tainty higher still. Any one, who will a little attend to the na¬ ture of evidence, will easily carry this observation on, and see, that between no evidence at all, and that degree of it which affords ground of doubt, there are as many intermediate de¬ grees, as there are between that degree which is the ground of doubt, and demonstration. And, though we have not fa¬ culties to distinguish these degrees of evidence with any sort of exactness, yet, in proportion as they are discerned, the}’ ought to influence our practice. For it is as real an imperfec¬ tion in the moral character, not tobe influenced in practice by a ^ Introduction, 204 REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL I [part II lower degree of evidence when discerned, as it is in the under- standing, not to discern it. And as, in all subjects which men consider, they discern the lower as w^ell as higher degrees of evidence, proportionabiy to their capacity of understanding ; so in practical subjects, they are influenced in practice by the lower as well as higher degrees of it, proportionabiy to their fairness and honesty. And as, in proportion to de¬ fects in the understanding, men are unapt to see lower degrees of evidence, are in danger of overlooking evidence when it is not glaring, and are easily imposed upon in such cases ; so, in proportion to the corruption of the heart, they seem capa¬ ble of satisfying themselves with having no regard in prac¬ tice to evidence acknowledged real, if it be not overbearing. From these things it must follow, that doubting concerning religion implies such a degree of evidence for it, as, joined with the consideration of its importance, unquestionably lays men under the obligations before mentioned, to'have a dutiful regard to it in all their behaviour. Tliirdlij, The difficulties in which the evidence of reli¬ gion is involved, which some complain of, is no more a just ground of complaint, than the external circumstances of tempt¬ ation, which others are placed in ; or than difficulties in the practice of it, after a full conviction of i's truth. Temptations render our state a more improving state of discipline* than it would be otherwise ; as they give occasion for a more atten¬ tive exercise of the virtuous principle, which confirms and strengthens it mo.e than an easier or less attentive exercise of it could. Now, speculative difficulties are, in this respect, of the very same nature with these external temptations. For the evidence of religion not appearing obvious, is, to some persons, a temptation to reject it, without any consideration at all; and therefore requires such an attentive exercise of the virtuous principle, seriously to consider that evidence, as there would be no occasion for, but for such temptation. And the supposed doubtfulness of its evidence, after it has been in sorne sort considered, affords opportunity to an unfair mind, of explaining away, and deceitfully hiding from itself, that evidence which it might see ;■ and also for men’s encouraging themselves in vice, from hopes of impunity, though they do clearly see thus much at least, that these hopes are uncertain: in like manner, as the common temptations lo many instances of folly, which end in temporal infamy and ruin, is the ground ^ Part 1 . chap. 5. CHIP. VI.] SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF. 205 for hope of not being detected, and of escaping -with impunity: i. e. the doubtfulness of the truth beforehand, that such foolish behaviour will thus end in infamy and ruin. On the con* trary, supposed doubtfulness in the evidence of religion calls for a more careTul and attentive exercise of the virtuous prin¬ ciple, in fairly yielding themselves up to the proper influence of any real evidencCj though doubtful; and in practising con¬ scientiously all virtue, though under some uncertainty whether the government in the universe may not possibly be such, as that vice may escape with impunity. And, in general, temptation, meaning by this wordy the lesser allure¬ ments to wrong, and difficulties in the discharge of our duty, as well as the greater ones; temiptation, I say' as such, and of every ’kind and degree, as it calls forth some virtuous cflbrts, additional to what would otherwise have been wanting:, cannot but be an additional discipline and improvement of virtue, as well as probation of it, in the other senses of that word. So that the very same account is to be given, why the evidence of religion should be left in such a manner, as to require, in some, an attentive, solicitous, perhaps painful, ex¬ ercise of their understanding about it; as why others should be placed in such circumstances as that the practice of its common duties, after a full conviction of the truth of it, should require attention, solicitude, and pains; or, why appearing doubtfulness should be permitted to afford matter of tempta¬ tion to some; as why exterhal difficulties and allurements should be permitted to afford matter of temptation to others. The same account also is to be given, why some should be exercised with temptations of both these kinds, as why others should be exercised with the latter in such very high de¬ grees, as some have been, particularly as the primitive Christians were. Nor doe's there appear any absurdity in supposing, that the speculative difficulties in Which the evidence of religion is involved, may make even the principal part of some per¬ sons’ trial. For, as the chief temptations of the generality of the world, are, the ordinary motives to injustice or unre¬ strained pleasure; or to live in the neglect of religion from. that frame of mind, which renders many persons almost with¬ out feeling as to any thing distant, or which is not the object of their senses; so there are other persons without this shal¬ lowness of temper, persons of a deeper sense as to what is in- 206 REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL : [PART IT. visible and future, who not onlj see, but have a general prac¬ tical feeling that what is to come will be present, and that things are not less real for their not being the object of sense ; and who, from their natural constitution of body and of temper, and from their external condition, may have small temptations to behave ill, small difficulty in behaving well, in the common course of life. Now, when these latter persons have a distinct, full conviction of tlio truth of religion, without any possible doubts or difficulties, the practice of it is to them unavoidable, unless they will do a constant violence to their own minds; and religion is scarce any more a discipline to them, than it is to creatures in a state of perfection. Yet these persons may possibly stand in need of moral (hscipline and exercise, in a higher degree than they would have by such an easy practice of religion. Or it may be requisite, for reasons unknown to us, that they should give some further manliestation what is their moral character, to the creation of God, than such "a practice of it would be. Thus, in the great varietj^ of religious situations in which men are placedj what constitutes, what chiefly and peculiarly constitutes the probation, in all senses,- of some persons, may be the difficulties in which the evidence of religion is involved ; and their principal and distinguished trial may be, how they will behave under and with respect to these difficulties. Circumstances in men’s situation in their temporal capacity, analogous in good _ measure to this, re¬ specting religion, are to be observed. We find, some persons ; are placed in such a situation in the world, as that tiieir chief difficulty, with regard to conduct, is not the doirig what is ; prudent when it is known ; for this, in numberless cases, is . as easy as the contraiy'': but to some, the principal exercise is, recollection, and being upon their guard against deceits; the deceits, suppose, of those about them ; against false ap- : pearances of reason and prudence. To persons in some situa- 1 tions, the principal exercise, with respect to conduct, is atten- \ tion, in order to inform themselves what is, proper, what is ^ really the reasonable and prudent part to act. But as I have hitherto gone upon supposition, that men’s dissatisfaction with the evidence of religion, is not owing to 1 their neglects or prejudices ; it must be added, on the other I hand, in all common reason, and as what the truth of the case plainly requires should be added, that such dissatisfac CHAP. VI.] SUPPPOSED HEPICIENGY m ITS PROOF. 207 tiol'- possibly may be owing to those, possibly may be men’s own fault. For, If there are any persons, who never set themselves heartily, and in earnest, to be informed in religion , if there are any, who secretly wish it may not prove true, and are less atten^ tive to evidence than to difficulties, and more to objections than to what is said in answer to them ; these persons will scarce be thought in a likely way of seeing the evidence of religion, though it were most certainly true, and capable of being ever so fully proved. If any accustom themselves to consider this subject usually in the way of mirth and sport J if they attend to* forms and representations, and inadequate manners of expression, instead of the real things intended by them, (for signs often can be no more than inadequately ex¬ pressive of the things signified :) or if they substitute human errors in the room of divine truth ; why may not all, or any of' these things, hinder some men from seeing that evidence which really is seen by others ; as a like turn of mind, with respect to matters of common speculation, and practice, does, we find by experience, hinder them from attaining that know¬ ledge and right understanding, in matters of common specu¬ lation and practice, which more fair and attentive minds at^ tain to ? And the effect will be the same, whether their neg¬ lect of seriously considering the evidence of religion, and their indirect behaviour with regard to it, proceed from mere care¬ lessness, or from the grosser vices; or whether it be owing to this, that forms, and figurative manners of expression, as well as errors, administer occasions of ridicule, when the things intended, and the truth itself, would not. Men may indulge a ludicrous turn so far, as to lose all sense of conduct and prudence in worldly affairs, and even, as it seems, to impair their faculty of reason. And in general, levity, care¬ lessness, passion, and prejudice, do hinder us from being rightly informed, with respect to common things ; and they may, in like manner, and perhaps in some farther providential manner, with respect to moral and religious subjects; may hinder e /idence from being laid before us, and from being seen when it is. The Scripture* does declare, ‘ that every one shall not understand.’ And it makes no difference by what * Dan. xii. 10. See also Isa. xxix. 13, 14. Matt. vi. 23, and xi. 25^ and xxiii. 11, 12. John iii. 9. John v. 44. 1 Cor. ii. 14, and 2 Cor. iv. 4. 2 Tim. iii. 13 ; and that affectionate, as well as authoiitative admo¬ nition, so very many times inculcated, ‘ He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.’ Grotius saw so strongly the thing intended in these and 208 KEVELAtlOJJ NOT UNIVERSAL : [PART II providential conduct this comes to pass; whether the evi¬ dence of Christianity was, originally and with design, put and left so, as that those who are desirous of evading moral obligations, should not see it, and that honest-minded persons should ; or whether it comes to pass by any other means. Farther: The general proof of natural religion and of Chris tianity, does, I think, lie level to common men; even those, the greatest part of whose time, from childhood to old age, ia taken up with providing, for themselves and their families, the common conveniences, perhaps necessaries of life; those 1 mean, of this rank, who ever think at all of asking after proof, or attending to it. Common men, were they as much in earnest about religion as about their temporal affairs, are capable of being convinced upon real evidence, that there is a God who governs the world; and they feel themselves to be of a moral nature, and accountable creatures. And as Christianity entirely falls in with this their natural sense of things; so they are capable, not only of being persuaded, but of being made to see, that there is evidence of miracles wrought in attestation of it, and many appearing completions of prophecy. But though this proof is real and conclusivej yet it is liable to objections, and may be run up into difficul¬ ties ; which, however, persons who are capable, not only of talking of, but of really seeing, are capable also of seeing through; i. e. not of clearing up and answering them, so as to satisfy their cunosity, for of such knowledge we are not capable with respect to any one thing in nature • bht capable of seeing that the proof is not lost in these difficulties, or de¬ stroyed by these objections. But then a thorough examina¬ tion into religion, with regard to these objections, which can¬ not be the business of every man, is a matter of pretty large compass, and from the nature of it, requires some knowledge, as well as time and attention, to see how the evidence comes out, upon balancing one thing with another, and what, upon the'whole, is the amount of it. Now, if persons who have picked up these objections from others, and take for granted they are of weight, upon the word of those from whom they received them, or, by often retailing of themj come to see, or fancy they see, them to be of weight, will not prepare them¬ selves for such an examination, with a competent degree oi other passages of Scripture of the like sense, as to say, that the proof given us of Christianity was less than it might have been, for this very purpose : Ut ita sermo Evangelii tanquam lapis esset Lydius ad qutm in- genia tanabih'a explorai'ehtiir. De Ver. R. C. 1, 2, towards the end. CHAP. VI.] SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF. 209 knowledge; or will not give that time and attention to the subject, which, from the nature of it, is necessary for attaining such information: in this case, they must remain in doubtful¬ ness, ignorance, or error ; in the same way as they must with regard to common sciences, and matters of common life, if they neglect the necessary means of being informed in them. But still, perhaps, it will be objected, that if a prince or common master were to send directions to a servant, he would take care, that they should always bear the certain marks who they came from, and that their sense should be always plain; so as that there should be no possible doubt, if he could help it, concerning the authority or meaning of them. Now, the proper answer to all this kind of objections is, that, wherever the fallacy lies, it is even certain we cannot argue thus with respect to Him who is the governor of the world ; and particularly, that he does not afford us such information, with repect to our temporal affairs and interests, as experience abundantly shows. However, there is a full answer to this objection, from the very nature of religion. For, the reason why a prince would give his directions in this plain manner, is, that he absolutely desires such an external action should be done, without concerning himself with the motive or prin¬ ciple upon which it is done : i. e. he regards only the external event, or the thing’s being done, and not at all, properly speaking, the doing of it, or the action. Whereas the whole of morality and religion consisting merely in action itself, there is no sort of parallel between the causes. But if the prince be supposed to regard only the action; i. e. only to desire to exercise, or in any sense prove, the understanding or loyalty of a servant, he would not always give his orders in such a plain manner. It may be proper to add, that the will of God, respecting morality and religion, may be consid¬ ered, either as absolute, or as only conditional. If it be abso¬ lute, it can only be thus, that we should act virtuously in such given circumstances ; not that we should be brought to act so, by his changing of our circumstances. And if God’s will be thus absolute, then it is in our power, in the highest and strictest sense, to do or to contradict his will; which is a most weighty consideration. Or his will may be considered only as conditional,—that if we act so and so, we shall be rewarded ; if otherwise, punished: of which condi¬ tional will of the Author of nature, the whole constitution of it affords most certain instances. 210 REVELATION NOT UNIVERSAL*. [PART II Upon the whole: That we are in a state of religion neces* sarily implies, that we are in a state of probation; and the credibility of our being at all in such a state being admitted, there seems no peculiar difficulty in supposing our probation to be, just as it is, in those respects which are above objected against. There seems no pretence from the reason of the thing to say, that the trial cannot equitably be any thing, but whether persons will act suitably to certain infomation, or such as admits no room for doubt; so as that there can be no danger of miscaniage, but either from their not attending to what they certainly know, or from overbearing passion hurry¬ ing them on to act contrary to it. For, since ignorance and doubt afford scope for probation in all senses, as really as in¬ tuitive conviction or certainty ; and since the two former are to be put to the same account as difficulties in practice ; men's moral probation may also be, whether they will take due care to inform themselves by impartial consideration, and afterwards whether they will act as the case requires, upon the evidence which they have, however doubtful. And this, we find by experience, is frequently our probation, in our temporal ca¬ pacity. For the information which we want, with regard to our worldly interests, is by no means always given us of course, without any care of our own. And we are greatly liable to self-deceit from inward secret prejudices, and also to the deceit of others. So that to be able to judge what is the prudent part, often requires much and difficult consideration. Then, after we have judged the very best we can, the evidence upon which we must act, if we live and act at all, is perpetually doubtful to a very high degree. And the constitution and course of the world in fact is such, as that want of impartial consideration what we have to do, and venturing upon extra¬ vagant courses, because it is doubtful what will be the conse¬ quence, are often naturally, i. e. providentially, altogether as fatal, as misconduct occasioned by heedless inattention to what we certainly know, or disregarding it from overbearing passion. Several of the observations here made may v/ell seem strange, perhaps unintelligible, to many good men. But if the persons for whose sake they are made, think so; persons who object as above, and throw off all regard to religion un¬ der pretence of want of evidence; I desire them to consider again whether their thinking so, be owing to any thing unin- CHAP. VI.J SUPPOSED DEFICIENCY IN ITS PROOF. 211 telligible in these observations, or to their own not having such a sense of religion and serious solicitude about it, as even their state of scepticism does in all reason require ? It ought to be forced upon the reflection of these persons that our na¬ ture and condition necessarily require us, in the daily course of life, to act upon evidence much lower than what is com¬ monly called probable; to guari, not only against what we fully believe will, but also against what we think it supposa- ble may, happen ; and to engage in pursuits when the proba¬ bility is greatly against success, if it be credible that possibly we may succeed in them. 212 OP THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE PART 11. CHAPTER VII. Of the particular Evidence for Christianity. The presumptions against revelation, and objections against the general scheme of Christianity, and particular things re¬ lating to it, being removed, there remains to be considered, what positive evidence we have for the truth of it; chiefly in order to see, what the analogy of nature suggests with regard to that evidence, and the objections against it; or to see what is, and is allowed to be, the plain natural rule of judgment and of action, in our temporal concerns, in cases where we have the same kind of evidence, and the same kind of objec¬ tions against it, that we have in the case before us. Now, in the evidence of Christianity, there seems to be several things of great weight, not reducible to the head, either of miracles, or the completion of prophecy, in the common acceptation of the words. But these two are its direct and fundamental proofs ; and those other things, however considerable they are, yet ought never to be urged apart from its direct proofs,-but always to be joined with them. Thus the evidence of Christianity will be a long series of things, reaching, as it seems, from the beginning of the world to the present time, of great variety and compass, taking in both the direct, and also the collateral proofs, and making up, all of them together, one argument j the conviction arising from which kind of proof may be com¬ pared to what they call the effect in architecture or other works of art; a result from a great number of things so and so disposed, and taken into one view. I shall therefore, firsts make some observations relating to miracles, and the appear¬ ing completions of prophecy ; and consider what analogy sug¬ gests, in answer to the objections brought against this evi¬ dence. And, secondly^ I shall endeavour to give some ac¬ count of the general argument now mentioned, consisting both of the direct and collateral evidence, considered as making CHAP. VII.] FOR CHRISTIANITY. 213 up one argument; this being the kind of proof upon which we determine most questions of difficulty concerning common facts, alleged to have happened, or seeming likely to happen; es¬ pecially questions relating to conduct. Fir si ^ I shall make some observations upon the direct proof of Christianity from miracles and prophecy, and upon the ob¬ jections alleged against it. 1. Now, the following observations, relating to the histori¬ cal evidence of miracles wrought in attestation of Christia¬ nity, appear to be of great weight. 1. The Old Testament affords us the same historical evi¬ dence of the miracles of Moses and of the prophets, as of the common civil history of Moses and the kings of Israel; or, as of the affairs of the Jewish nation. And the Gospels and the A.cts afford us the same historical evidence of the miracles of j Christ and the Apostles, as of the common matters related ini them. This, indeed, could not have been affirmed by any rea-/ sonable man, if the authors of these books, like many other\ historians, had appeared to make an entertaining manner of! writing their aim; though they had interspersed miracles in ! their works, at proper distances, and upon proper occasions. ) These might have animated a dull relation, amused the ' reader, and engaged his attention. And the same account would naturally have been given of them, as of the speeches i and descriptions of such authors; the same account, in a ’ manner, as is to be given, why the poets make use of won¬ ders and prodigies. But the facts, both miraculous and natural, in Scripture, are related in plain unadorned narra- j tives; and both of them appear, in all respects, to stand upon the same foot of historical evidence. Farther: Some ■ parts of Scripture, containing an account of miracles fully sufficient to prove the truth of Christianity, are quoted as genuine, from the age in which they are said to be written, | down to the present: and no other parts of them, material in the present question, are omitted to be quoted, in such man¬ ner as to afford any sort of proof of their not being genuine. And, as common history, when called in question in any in¬ stance, may often be greatly confirmed by contemporary or subsequent events more known and acknowledged ; and as the common Scripture history, like many others, is tfius con¬ firmed ; so likewise is the miraculous history of it, not only in particular instances, but in general. For, the establish-x ment of the Jewfish and Christian religions, which were events ] contemporary with the miracles related to be wrought in at- / ( 214 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II. testation of both, or subsequent to them, these events are just what we should have expected, upon supposition such mira¬ cles were really wrought to attest the truth of those religions. These miracles are a satisfactory account of those events, of which no other satisfactory account can be given, nor any account at all, but what is imaginary merely and invented, rit is to be added, that the most obvious, the most easy and direct account of this history, how it came to be written and to be received in the world, as a true history, is, that it really is so; nor can any other account of it be easy and direct. Now, though an account, not at all obvious, but very far¬ fetched and indirect, may indeefl be, and often is, the true ac¬ count of a matter; yet, it cannot be admitted on the authority of its being asserted. Mere guess, supposition, and possibility, when opposed to historical evidence prove nothing, but that historical evidence is not demonstrative. Now, the just consequence from all this, I think, is, that the Scripture history, in general, is to be admitted as an au¬ thentic genuine history, till somewhat positive be alleged sufficient to invalidate it. But r>o man will deny the conse quence to be, that it cannot be rejected, or thrown by as of no authority, till it can be proved to be of none ; even though the evidence now mentioned for its authority were doubtful. This evidence may be confronted by historical evidence on the other side, if there be any ; or general incredibility in the things related, or inconsistence in the general turn of the his¬ tory, would prove it to be of no authority. But since, upon the face of the matter, upon a first and general view, the ap¬ pearance is, that it is an authentic history, it cannot be deter¬ mined to be fictitious without some proof that it is so. And the following observations, in support of these and coincident with them, will greatly confirm the historical evidence for the truth of Christianity. 2. The Epistles of St. Paul, from the nature of epistolary writing, and moreover, from several of them being ^vTitten, not to particular persons, but to churches, carry in them evi¬ dences of their being genuine, beyond what can be, in a mere historical narrative, left to the world at large. This evidence, joined with that which they have in common with the rest of the New Testament, seems not to leave so much as any par¬ ticular pretence for denying their genuineness, considered as an ordinary matter of fact, or of criticism : I say, particular pretence for denying it; because any single fact, of such a kind and such antiquity, may have general doubts raised con- CHAP. VII.J FOR CHRISTIANITY 215 ceming it, from the very nature of human affairs and human testimony. There is also to be mentioned, a distinct and par-’' ticular evidence of the genuineness of the epistle chiefly re¬ ferred to here, the first to the Corinihians ; from the manner in which it is quoted by Clemens Romanus^ in an episue of his own to that church.Now, these epistles afford a proof of Christianity, detached from all others, which is, I think, a thing of weight; and also a proof of a nature and kind pe¬ culiar to itself. For, In them the author declares that he received the gospel in general, and the institution of the communion in particular^ not from the rest of the Apostles, or jointly together with them, but alone from Christ himself; whom he declares, like¬ wise conformably to the history m-^the Acts, thcit he saw after his ascension.I So that the testimony of St Paul is to be considered, as detached from that of the rest of the Apostles. And he declares farther, that he was endued with a power of working miracles, as what was publicly known to those very people ; speaks of frequent and great variety of miracu¬ lous gifts, as then subsisting in those very churches to which he was writing; which he was reproving for several irregu¬ larities ; and where he had personal opposers : he mentions these gifts incidentally, in the most easy manner, and without effort; by way of reproof to those who had them, for their indecent use of them; and by way of depreciating them, in comparison of moral virtues. In short, he speaks to these churches of these miraculous powers, in the manner any one would speak to another of a thing, which was as familiar, and as much known in common to them both, as any thing m the world.J And this, as has been observed by several persons, is surely a very considerable thing. 3. It is an acknowledged historical fact, that ChristianiU^ offered itself to the world and demanded to be received, upon the allegation, i. e. as unbelievers would speak, upon the pre¬ tence of miracles, publicly wrought to attest the truth of it, in such an age; and that it was actually received by great numbers in that very age, and upon the professed belief of the reality of these miracles. And Christianity, including the dis¬ pensation of the Old Testament, seems distinguished by this from all other religions. I mean, that this does not appear * Clem. Rom. Ep. i, c. 47. t Gal. i. 1 Cor. xi. 23, &c. 1 Cor. xv. 8. f Rom. XV. 19. I Cor. xii 8, 9, 10—28, &c. and chap. xiii. 1, 2, 8 and tl)e whole xivth chap. 2 Ccr. xii, 12, 13. Gal. iii. 2, 5. 216 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART It to be the case with regard to any other: for surely it will not be supposed to lie upon any person, to prove, by positive his¬ torical evidence, that it was not. It does in no sort appear that Mahometanism was first received in the world upon the foot of supposed miracles,* i. e. public ones: for, as revelation is itself miraculous, all pretence to it must necessarily imply some pretence of miracles. And it is a known fact, that it was immediately, at the very first, propagated by other means. And as particular institutions, whether in paganism or popery, said to be confirmed by miracles after those insti¬ tutions had obtained, are not to the purpose; so, were there what might be called historical proof, that any of them were introduced by a supposed divine commend, believed to be at¬ tested by miracles, these would not be in any wise parallel. For single things of this sort are easy to be accounted for, after parties are formed, and have power in then hands ; and the leaders of them are in veneration with the multitude; and political interests are blended with religious claims, and religious distinctions. But before any thing of this kind, for a few persons, and those of the lowest rank, all at once to bring over such great numbers to a new religion, and get it to be received upon the particular evidence of miracles; this is quite another thing. And I think it will be allowed by any fair adversary, that the fact now mentioned, taking in all the chcumstances of it, is peculiar to the Christian reli¬ gion. However, the fact itself is allowed, that Christianity obtained, i. e. was professed to be received in the world, upon the belief of miracles, immediately in the age in which it is said those miracles were wrought: or that this is what its first converts would have alleged, as the reason for their em¬ bracing it. Now, certainly it is not to be supposed, that such numbers of men, in the most distant parts of the world, should forsake the religion of their country, in which they had been educated ; separate themselves from their friends, particularly in their festival shows and solemnities, to which the common people are so greatly addicted, and which were of a nature to engage them much more than any thing of that sort amongst us ; and embrace a religion which could not but ex¬ pose them to many inconveniences, and indeed must have been a giving up the world in a great degree, even from the very first, and before the empire engaged in form against them: it cannot be supposed, that such numbers should * See the Koran, chap. xiii. and cha CHAP. VII,] FOR CHRISTIANITY. 217 make so great, and, to say the least, so inconvenient a change in their whole institution of life, unless they were really con¬ vinced of the truth of those miracles, upon the knowledge or belief of which they professed to make it. And it will, I sup¬ pose, readily be acknowledged, that the generality of the first converts to Christianity must have believed them; that as, by becoming Christians, they declared to the world they were satisfied of the truth of those miracles, so this declara¬ tion was to be credited. And this their testimony is the same kind of evidence for those miracles, as if they had put it in writing, and these writings had come down to us. And it is real evidence, because it is of facts, which they had capa¬ city and full opportunity to inform themselves of. It is also distinct from the direct or express historical evidence, though it is of the same kind; and it would be allowed to be distinet in all cases. For, were a fact expressly related by one or more ancient historians, and disputed in after ages ; that this fact is acknowledged to have been believed, by great numbers of the age in which the historian says it was done, would be allowed an additional proof of sueh fact, quite distinct from the express testimony of the historian. The credulity of mankind is acknowledged, and the suspicions of mankind ought to be acknowledged too ; and their backwardness even to believe, and greater still to practise, what makes against their interest. And it must particularly be remembered, that education, and prejudice, and authority, were against Chris¬ tianity, in the age I am speaking of. So that the immediate conversion of such numbers, is a real presumption of some¬ what more than human in this matter: I say presumption, for it is alleged as a proof, alone and by itself Nor need any one of the things mentioned in this chapter be considered as a proof by itself; and yet all of them together may be one of the strongest. Upon the whole, as there is large historical evidence, both direct and circumstantial, of miracles wrought in attestation of Christianity, collected by those who have writ upon the sub¬ ject ; it lies upon unbelievers to show why this evidence is not to be credited. This way of speaking is, I think, just, and what persons who write in defence of religion naturally fall into. Yet, in a matter of such unspeakable importance, the proper question is, not whom it lies upon, according to the rules of argument, to maintain or confute objections; but, whether there really are any against this evidence, sufficient, 10 218 OF THIi particular EVIDENCE [pART II. in reason, to destroy the credit of it ? Flowever, unbelievers seem to take upon them the part of showing that there are. They allege, that numberless enthusiastic people, in diiferent ages and countries, expose themselves to the same difficulties which the primitive Christians did ; and are ready to give up their lives, for the most idle follies imaginable. But it is not very clear, to what i>urpose this objection is brought; for every one, surely, in every case, must distinguish between opinions and facts. And though testimony is no proof of en¬ thusiastic opinions, or any opinions at all; yet, it is allowed, in all other cases to be a proof of facts. And a person’s laying down his life in attestation of facts or of opinions, is the strongest proof of his believing them. And if the apostles and their contemporaries did believe the facts, in attestation of which they exposed themselves to sufferings and death this their belief, or rather knowledge, must be a proof of those facts ; for they were such as come under the observation of their senses. And though it is not of equal weight, yet it is of weight, that the martyrs of the next age, notwithstanding they were not eye-witnesses of those facts, as were the apostles and their contemporaries, had, however, full oppor¬ tunity to inform themselves, whether they were true or not, and give equal proof of their believing them to be true. But enthusiasm, it is said, greatly weakens the evidence of testimony even for facts, in matters relating to religion ; some seem to think, it totally and absolutely destroys the evidence of testimony upon the subject. And, indeed, the powers of enthu¬ siasm, and of diseases, too, which operate in a like manner, are very wonderful, in particular instances. But if great numbers of men not appearing in anj'' peculiar degree weak, noi under any peculiar suspicion of negligence, affirm that they saw and heard such things plainly with their eyes and their ears, and are admitted to be in earnest; such testimony is evidence of the strongest kind we can have for any matter of fact. Yet, possibly it may be overcome, strong as it is, b}’’ incredibility in the things thus attested, or by contrary testimony. And in an instance where one thought it was so overcome, it might be ]ust to consider, how far such evidence could be accounted for by enthusiasm ; for it seems as if no other imaginable ac¬ count were to be given of it. But till such incredibility be shown., or contrary testimony produced, it cannot surely bt expected, that so far-fetched, so indirect and wonderful an ac¬ count of such testimony, as that of enthusiasm must be ; an account so strange, that the generality of mankind can scarce CHAP. VII.J FOR CHRISTIANITY. 219 be made tc understand wha t is meant by it; it cannot, I say, be expected, that such account will be admitted of such evi¬ dence, when there is this direct, easy, and obvious account of it, that people really saw and heard a thing not incredible which they affirm sincerely, and with full eissurance, they did see and hear. Granting, then., that enthusiasm is not (strictly speaking) an absurd, but a possible account of such testi¬ mony, it is manifest that the very mention of it goes upon the previous supposition, that the things so attested are incredi¬ ble : and therefore, need not be considered, till they are shown to be so. Much less need it be considered, after the contrary has been proved. And i think it has been proved, to full satisfaction, that there is no incredibility in a revelation, in general, or in such a one as the Christian in particular. However, as religion is supposed peculiarly liable to enthusi¬ asm, it may just be observed, that prejudices almost without number and without name, romance, affiectation, humour, a desire to engage attention or to surprise, the party-spirit, cus¬ tom, little competitions, unaccountable likings and dislikings • these influence men strongly in common matters And as these prejudices are often scarce known or reflected upon by the persons themselves who are influenced by them, they are to be considered as influences of a like kind to enthusiasm. Yet human testimony in common matters is naturally and justly believed notwithstanding. It is intimated farther, in a more refined way of observa¬ tion, that though it should he proved, that the apostles and fust Christians could not, in some respects, be deceived them¬ selves, and, in other respects, cannot be thought to have in¬ tended to impose upon the world, jmt, it will not follow, that their general testimony is to be believed, though truly handed down to us • because they might still in part, i. e. in other respects, be deceived themselves, and in part also designedly impose upon others ; which, it is added, is a thing very credi¬ ble, from that mixture of real enthusiasm, and real knavery, to be met with in the same characters. And, I must confess, I think the matter of fact contained in this observation upon mankind, is not to be denied ; and that somewhat very much akin to it, is often supposed in Scripture as a very common case, and most severely reproved. But it were to have been expected, that persons capable of applying this observation as applied in the objection, might also frequently have met with the like mixed character, in instances where religion was quite cut of the case. The thing plainly is, that mankffid are ‘220 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II. naturally endued with reason, or a capacity of distinguishing between truth and falsehood ; and as naturally they are en¬ dued with veracity, or a regard to truth in what they say: but from many occasions, they are liable to be prejudiced, and biassed, and deceived themselves, and capable of intend¬ ing to deceive others, in ever}'’ ditferent degree; insomuch that, as we are all liable to be deceived by prejudice, so like¬ wise it seems to be not an uncommon thing, for persons, who, from their regard to truth, would not invent a lie entirely Avithout any foundation at all, to propagate it with heighten¬ ing circumstances, after it is once invented and set agoing. And others, though they would not pi'opagate a lie, yet, which is a lower degree of falsehood, will let it pass without contradiction. But, notwithstanding all this, human testi¬ mony remains still a natural ground of assent; and this assent, a natural principle of action. It is objected farther, that however it has happened, the fact is, that mankind have, in different ages, been strangely deluded with pretences to miracles and wonders. But it is by no means to be admitted, that they have been oftener, oi are at all more liable to be deceived by these pretences, than by others. It is added, that there is a very considerable degree of his¬ torical evidence for miracles, ’v^hich are on all hands acknow¬ ledged to be fabulous. But suppose there were even the like historical evidence for these, to what there is for those alleged in proof of Christianity, which yei is in no wise allowed j but suppose this ; the consequence would not be, the evidence of the latter is not to be admitted. Nor is there a man in the world who, in common cases, would conclude thus. For what ■would such a conclusion really amount to but this, that evidence, confuted by contrary evidence, or any way over¬ balanced, destroA^s the credibility of other evidence, neither confuted nor overbalanced 1 To arsrue, that because there is, if there were, like evidence from testimony, for miracles ac¬ knowledged false, as for those in attestation of Christianity, therefore the evidence in the latter case is not to be credited; this is the same as to argue, that if tAvo men cf equally good reputation had given evidence in different cases no waj cen- nected, and one of them had been convicted of perjury, thu' confuted the testimony of the other. Upon the AA'hole, then, the general observation that human creatures are so liable to be deceived, from enthusiasm in re¬ ligion, and pntinciples equiA’-nlent to enthusiasm in cOmmtfr CHAP. VII.] B’OR CHRISTIANITV. 221 matters, and in both from negligence ; and that they are so capable of dishonestly endeavouring to deceive ethers ; this does indeed weaken the evidence of testimony in all cases, but does not destroy it in any. And these things will appear, to different men, to weaken the evidence of testimony, in different degrees; in degrees proportionable to the observa¬ tions they have made, or the notions they have any way- taken up, concerning the weakness, and negligence, and dis¬ honesty of mankind; or concerning the powders of enthusi¬ asm, and prejudices equivalent to it. But it seems to me, that people do not know what they say. who affirm these things to destroy the evidence from testimony, which we have of the truth of Christianity. Nothing can destroy the evidence of testimon}^ in any case, but a proof or probaliility, that persons are not competent judges of the facts to \vhich they give testimony ; or that they are actually under some indirect influence in giving it, in such particular case. Till this be miade out, the natural laws of human actions require, that testimony be admitted. It can never be sufficient to overthrow’- direct historical evidence, indolently to say, that there are so many principles, from whence mien are liable to be deceived themselves and disposed to deceive others, espe¬ cially in matters of religion, that one knows not w’-hat to be¬ lieve. And it is surprising persons can help reflecting, that this very manner of speaking supposes, they are not satisfied that there is nothing in the evidence, of wdiich they speak thus ; or that they can avoid observing, if they do make this reflection, that it is, on such a subject, a very material one.* And over against all these objections, is to be set the im portance of Christianity, as what must have engaged the at¬ tention of its first converts, so as to have rendered them less liable to be deceived from carelessness, than they would in common matters ; and likewise the strong obligations to ve¬ racity, which their religion laid them under: so that the first and most obvious presumption is, that they could not be do’ ceived themselves, nor would deceive others. And this pre¬ sumption, in this degree, is peculiar to the testimony we have been considering. Ill argument, assertions are nothing in themselves, and have an air of positiveness, which sometimes is not very easy; yet they are necessary, and necessary to be repeated, in order to connect a discourse, and distinctly to lay before the “ !dec the foregping chapter. 222 or THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE I PART II. view of the reader what is proposed to be proved, and what is left as proved. Now, the conclusion from the foregoing obser¬ vations is, I think, beyond all doubt, this: that, unbelievers must be forced to admit the external evidence for Christianity, i. e. the proof of miracles wrought to attest it, to be of real weight and very considerable ; though they cannot allow it to be sufficient to convince them of the reality of those miracles. And as they must, in all reason, admit this, so it seems to me, that upon consideration they would, in fact, admit it; those of them, I mean, who know any thing at all of the matter: in like manner as persons, in many cases, own, they see strong evidence from testimony, for the truth of things, which yet they cannot be convinced are true ; cases, suppose, where there is contrary testimony, or things which they think, whether with or without reason, to be incredible. But there is no testimony contrary to that which we have been con¬ sidering ; and it has been fully proved, that there is no incredi¬ bility in Christianity in general, or in any part of it. II. As to the evidence for Christianity from prophecy, I shall only make some few general observations, which are suggested by the analogy of nature; i. e. by the acknow¬ ledged natural rules of judging in common matters, concern ing evidence of a like kind to this from prophecy. 1. The obscurity or unintelligibleness of one part of a prophecy, does not, in any degree, invalidate the proof of foresight, arising from the appearing completion of those other parts which are understood. For the case is evidently the same, as if those parts, which are not understood, were lost, or not written at all, or written in an unknown tongue. Whether this observation be commonly attended to or not, it is so evident, that one can scarce bring one’s self to set down an instance in common matters, to exemplify it. However, suppose a writing, partly in cypher, and partly in plain words at length, and that, in the part one understood, there appeared mention of several known facts; it would never come into any man’s thoughts to imagine, that if he understood the whole, perhaps he might find, that those facts were not, in reality, known by the writer. Indeed, both in this example, and the thing intended to be exemplified by it, our not under¬ standing the whole, (the whole, suppose, of a sentence or a paragraph,) might sometimes occasion a doubt, whether one understood the literal meaning of such a part; but this comes under another consideration. For the same reason though a man should be incapable. CHAP. VII.J FOR CHRISTIANITY. 223 for want of learning, or opportunities of inquiry, or from not having turned his studies this way, even so much as to judge whether particular prophecies have been throughout com¬ pletely fulfilled ; yet he may see, in general, that they have been fulfilled, to such a degree, as, upon very good ground, to be convinced of foresight more than human in such pro¬ phecies, and of such events being intended by them. For the same reason also, though, by means of the deficiencies in eivil history, and the different accounts of historians, the most learned should not be able to make out to satisfaction, that such parts of the prophetic history have been minutely and throughout fulfilled ; yet a very strong proof of foresight may arise from that general completion of them which is made out; as much proof of foresight, perhaps, as the Giver of prophecy intended should ever be a,fForded b 3 ^ such parts of prophecju 2. A long series of prophecy being applicable to such and such events, is itself a proof, that it was intended of them; as the rules, by which we naturally judge and determine, in common cases parallel to this, will show. This observation I make in answer to the common objection against the applica¬ tion of the prophecies, that, considering each of them distinctly b}^ itseF, it does not at all appear, that they were intended of those particular events to which they are applied by Chris¬ tians ; and, therefore, it is to be supposed, that, if they meant any thing, they were intended of other events unknown to us, and not of these at all. Now, there are two kinds of writing, which bear a great resemblance to prophecy, wi a respect to the matter before us ; the mythological and the satirical, where the satire is, to a certain degree, concealed. And a man might be assured, that he understood what an author intended by a fable or parable, related without any application or moral, merely from seeing it to be easily capable of such application, and that such a moral might naturally be deduced from it. And he might be fully assured, that such persons and events were intended in a satirical writing, merely from its being applica¬ ble to them. And, agreeably to the last observation, he might be in a good measure satisfied of it, though he were not enough informed in affairs, or in the story of such persons, to understand half the satire. For, his satisfaction, that he understood the rcxeaning, the intended meaning, of tliese writings, should be greater or less, in proportion as he saw the genei’al turn of them to be capable of such application and 224 or THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [ PART II in proportion to the number of particular things capable of it And thus, if a long series of prophecy is applicable to the present state of the church, and to the political situations of the kingdoms of the world, some thousand years after these prophecies were delivered, and a long series of prophecy de¬ livered before the coming of Christ is applicable to him; these things are in themselves a proof, that the prophetic history was intended of him, and of those events : in proportion as the general turn of it is capable of such application, and to the number and variety of particular prophecies capable of it. And, though in all just way of consideration, the appearing completion of prophecies is to be allowed to be thus explana¬ tory of, and to determine their meaning; yet it is to be re¬ membered farther, that the ancient Jews applied the prophe¬ cies to a Messiah before his coming, in much the same man¬ ner as Christians tlo now; and that the primitive Christians interpreted the prophecies respecting the state of the church and of the world in the last ages, in the sense which the event seems to confirm and verify. And from these things it may be made appear, 3, That the showing, even to a high probability, if that could be, that the prophets thought of some other events, in such and such predictions, and not those at all which Chris¬ tians allege to be completions of those predictions; or that such and such prophecies are capable of being applied to other events than those to which Christians apply them—that this would not confute or destroy the force of the argument from prophecy, even with regard to those very instances. For, observe how this matter really is. If one knew such a per¬ son to be the sole author of such a book, and w^as certainly assured, or satisfied to any degree, that one knew the whole of what he intended in it, one should be assured or satisfied to such degree, that one knew the whole meaning of that book ; for the meaning of a book is nothing but the meaning of the author. But if one knew a person to have compiled a book out of memoirs, which he received from another, of vastly su¬ perior knowledge in the subject of it, especially if it were a book full of great intricacies and difficulties, it would m no wise follow, that one knew the whole meaning of the book, from knowing the whole meaning of the compiler; for the original memoirs, i. e. the author of them, might have, and there would be no degree of presumption, in many cases, against supposing him to have, some farther meaning than the compiler saw* To say, then, that the Scriptures and Chi? CHAP. VII.J FOR CHRISTIANITY. 225 things contained in them can have no other or farther mean¬ ing, than those persons thought or had, who first recited or wrote them, is evidently saying, that those persons were the original, proper, and sole authors of those books, i. e. that they are not inspired; which is absurd, whilst the authority of these books is under examination, i. e. till you have determined they are of no divine authority at all. Till this be deter¬ mined, it must in all reason be supposed, not indeed that they Iiave, for this is taking for granted that the}^ are inspired, but that the_y may have, some farther meaning than what the compilers saw or understood. And, upon this supposition, it is supposable also, that this farther meaning may be fulfilled. Now, events corresponding to prophecies, interpreted in a dif¬ ferent meaning from that which the prophets are supposed to have understood them ; this affords, in a manner, the same proof that this different sense was originally intended, as it would have afforded, if the prophets had not understood their predictions in the sense it is supposed they did ; because there is no presumption of their sense of them being the whole sense of them., And ii has been already shown, that the apparent completions of prophecy must be allowed to be explanatoiy of its meaning. So that the question is, whether a series of prophecy has been fulfilled, in a natural or proper, i. e. in any real sense of the words of it. For such completion is equally a proof of foresight more than human, whether the prophets are, or are not, supposed to have understood it in a different sense. I say, supposed ; for though I think it clear, that the prophets did not understand the full meaning of their predic¬ tions, it is another question, how far they thought they did, and in what sense they understood them. Hence may be seen, to how little purpose those persons busy themselves, who endeavour to prove that the prophetic history is applicable to events of the age in which it was written, or of ages before it. Indeed, to have proved this before there was any appearance of a farther completion of it, might have answered some purpose; for it might have prevented the ex¬ pectation of any such farther completion. Thus, could Por¬ phyry have shown, that some principal parts of the book of Daniel, for instance, the seventh verse of the seventh chanter, which the Christians interpreted of the latter ages, was appli¬ cable to events which happened before or about the age of Antiochus Epiphanes ; this might have prevented them from expecting any farther completion of it. And unless there was then, as I think there must have been, external evidence con- 10 * 22G OF THE FARTICULAR EVIDENCE [part II cerning that book, more than is come down to us, such a dis* covery might have been a stumbling-block in the way oi Christianity itself; considering the authority which our Sa¬ viour has given to the book of Daniel, and how much the ge¬ neral scheme of Christianity presupposes the truth of it. But even this discovery, had there been any such,* would be oi very little weight with reasonable men now ; if this passage, tlius applicable to events before the age of Porphyry, appears to be applicable also to events, which succeeded the dissolution of the Roman empire. I mention this, not at all as intending to insinuate, that the division of this empire into ten parts, for it plainly was divided into about that number, were, alone and by itself, of any moment in verifying the prophetic history; but only as an example of the thing I am speaking of. And thus, upon the whole, the matter of inquiry evidently must be, as above put, Whether the prophecies are applicable to Christ, and to the present state of the world and of the church; appli cable in such a degree, as to imply foresight: not whether they are capable of any other application ; though I know no pretence for saying, the general turn of them is capable of an}' other. These observations are, I think, just, and the evidence re¬ ferred to in them, real; though there may be people who will not accept of such imperfect information from Scripture. Some too have not integrity and regard enough to truth, to attend to evidence, which keeps the mind in doubt, perhaps perplex¬ ity, and which is much of a different sort from what they expec¬ ted. And it plainly requires a degree of modesty and fairness, beyond what every one has, for a man to say, not to the world, but to himself, that there is a real appearance of somewhat of great weight in this matter, though he is not able thoroughly to satisfy himself about it; but it shall have its influence upon him, in proportion to its appearing realit}^ and weight. It is much more easy, and more falls in with the negligence, pre¬ sumption, and wilfulness of the generality, to d., termine at once, with a decisive air, there is nothing in it. The preju¬ dices arising from that absolute contempt and scorn, with which this evidence is treated in the world, I do not mention. * It appears, that Porphyry did nothing worth mentioning in this way. For Jerome on the place says : Duas posteriores bestias—in uno Macedo- nvm regno ponit. And as to the ten kings : Decern reges enumerate qui fnemnt scevissimi: ipsosque reges non unius ponit regni, verbi gratia, Mace- donicz, Srjnce, Jlsirz, etEgypti; sed de 'diversis repiis unum efficit regim ordinem. And in this way of interpretation, any thing may be made of any thing. CHAP. VII.] FOR CHRISTIANITY. 221 For what indeed can be said to persons, who are weak enough in their understandings to think this any presumption against It; or, if they do not, are yet weak enough in their temper to be influenced by such prejudices, upon such a subject ? I shall row, secondly, endeavour to give some account of the general argument for the truth of Christianity, consisting both of the direct and circumstantial evidence, considered as making up one argument. Indeed, to state and examine this argument fully, would be a work much beyond the compass of this whole Treatise ; nor is so much as a proper abridg¬ ment of it to be expected here. Yet the present subject re¬ quires to have some brief account of it given. For it is the kind of evidence upon which most questions of difficulty, in common practice, are determined ; evidence arising from va¬ rious coincidences, which support and confirm each other, and in this manner prove, with more or less certainty, the point under consideration. And I choose to do it also, j^rs^. Be¬ cause it seems to be of the greatest importance, and not duly attended to by every one, that the proof of revelation is, not some direct and express things only, but a great variety of circumstantial things also ; and that though each of these direct and circumstantial things is indeed to be considered separately, yet they are afterwards to be joined together; for that the proper force of the evidence consists in the results of those several things, considered in their respects to each other, and united into one view ; and, in the next place, Be¬ cause it seems to me, that the matters of fact here set down, which are acknowledged by unbelievers, must be acknow¬ ledged by them also to contain together a degree of evidence of great weight, if they could be brought to lay these several things before themselves distinctly, and then with attention consider them together; instead of that cursory thought of them, to which we are familiarized. For being familiarized to the cursory thought of things, as really hinders the weight of them from being seen, as from having its due influence upon practice. The thing asserted, and the truth of which is to be in¬ quired into, is this: that over and above our reason and aflfec- tions, which God has given us for the information of our judg¬ ment and conduct of our lives, he has also, by external reve¬ lation, given us an account of himself and his moral govern¬ ment over the world, implying a future state of rewards and punishments, i. e. hath revealed the system of natural reli- 228 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II. gion; for natural religion may be externally revealed by God, as the ignorant may be taught it by mankind, their fel¬ low creatures—that God, I say, has given us the evidence of revelation, as well as the evidence of reason, to ascertain this moral system; together with an account of a particular dis¬ pensation of Providence, which reason could no way have discovered, and a particular institution of religion founded on it, for the recovery of mankind out of their present wretched condition, and raising them, to the perfection and final happi¬ ness of their nature. This revelation, whether real or supposed, may be consid¬ ered as wholly historical. For prophecy is nothing but the history of events before they come to pass : doctrines also are matters of fact; and precepts come under the same notion. And the general design of Scripture, which contains in it this revelation, thus considered as historical, may be said to be, to give us an account of the world, in this one single view, as God’s world ; by which it appears essentially distinguished from till other books, so far as I have found, except such as are copied from it. It begins with an account of God’s crea¬ tion of the world, in order to ascertain and distinguish from all others, who is the object of our worship, by what he has done; in order to ascertain who he is, concerning whose providence, commands, promises, and threatenings, this sacred book all along treats ; the Maker and Proprietor of the world, he whose creatures we are, the God of nature: in order likewise to dis¬ tinguish him from the idols of the nations, which are either im¬ aginary beings, i. e. no beings at all; or else part of that crea¬ tion, the historical relation of which is here given. And St John, not improbably with an eye to this Mosaic account of the creation, begins his gospel with an account of our Sa¬ viour’s pre-existence, and that, ‘ all things w^ere made by him, and without him was not any thing made that was made ;’t agreeably to the doctrine of St Paul, that ‘ God created all things by Jesus Christ.’J This being premised, the Scripture, taken together, seems to profess to contain a kind of an abndg- ment of the history of the world, in the view just now men¬ tioned ; that is, a general account of the condition of religion and its professors, during the continuance of that apostacy from God, and state of wickedness, wdiich it every w'here supposes the wmrld to lie in. And this account of the state of religion carries with it some brief account of the political t John i. 3. J Eph. iiL 9. CHAP. VIL] FOR CHRISTIANITY. 229 state of things, as religion is affected hy it. Revelation in¬ deed considers the common affairs of this world, and what is going on in itj as a mere scene of distraction, and cannot be supposed to concern itself with foretelling at what time Rome, or Babylon, or Greece, or any particular place, should be the most conspicuous seat of that tyranny and dissoluteness, which all places equally aspire to be ; cannot, I say, be sup¬ posed to give any account of this wild scene for its own sake. But it seems to contain some very general account of the chief governments of the world, as the general state of reli¬ gion has been, is, or shall be, affected by them, from the first transgression and during the whole interval of the world’s continuing in its present state, to a certciin future period, spoken of both in the Old and New Testament, very dis tinctly, and in great variety of expression : ‘ The times of the restitution of all things when ‘ the mystery of God shall be finished, as he hath declared to his servants tlie prophets when ‘ the God of heaven shall set up a kingdom, which shall never be destroyed ; and the kingdom shall not be left to other people,’J as it is represented to be during this apos- tacy, but ‘judgment shall be given to the saints,’§ and ‘ they shall reign ;’|| ‘ and the kingdom and dominion, and the great¬ ness of the kingdom under the whole heaven, shall be given to the people of the saints of the Most High.’ll Upon this general view of the Scripture, I would remark how great a length of time the whole relation takes up, near six thousand years of which are past: and how great a va¬ riety of things it treats of; the natural and moral system or history of the world, including the time when it was formed, all contained in the very first book, and evidently written in a rude and unlearned age ; and in subsequent books, the vari¬ ous common and prophetic history, and the particular dispen¬ sation of Christianity. Now all this together gives the largest scope for criticism ; and for confutation of what is ca¬ pable of being confuted, either from reason, or from common history, or from any inconsistence in its several parts. And it is a thing which deserves, I think, to be mentioned, that whereas some imagine, the supposed doubtfulness of the evi¬ dence for revelation implies a positive argument that it is not true; it appears, on the contrary, to imply a positive argu¬ ment that it is true. For, could any‘common relation of such * Acts iii. 21. t ffev. x. 7. | Dan. ii. § Dan, vii, 22. U R«v^ xi. 17., 13, ch. XX, H Dan. vik 230 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [ PART IL antiquity, extent, and variety, (for in these things the stresa of what I am now observing lies,) be proposed to the examina¬ tion of the world ; that it could not, in an age of knowledge and liberty, be confuted, or shown to have nothing in it, to the satisfaction of reasonable men; this would be thought a strong presumptive proof of its truth. And indeed it must be a proof of it just in proportion to the probability, that if it were false, it might be shown to be so; and this, I think, is scarce pretended to be shown but upon principles and in ways of arguing which have been clearly obviated.* . Nor does it at all appear, that any sect of men who believe natural religion, are of the opinion, that Christianity has been thus confuted. But to proceed: Together with the moral system of the world, the Old Tes¬ tament contains a chronological account of the beginning of it, and from thence, an unbroken genealogy of mankind for many ages before common history begins; and carried on as much farther, as to make up a continued thread of history of the length of between three and four thousand years. It con¬ tains an account of God’s making a covenant with a particu¬ lar nation, that they should be his people, and he would be their God, in a peculiar sense ; of his often interposing miraculously in their affairs ; giving them the promise, and, long after, the possession, of a particular country; assuring them of the greatest national prosperity in it, if they would worship him, in opposition to the idols which the rest of the world worship¬ ped, and obey his commands ; and threatening them with un¬ exampled punishments, if they disobeyed him, and fell into the general idolatry : insomuch, that this one nation should con¬ tinue to be the observation and the wonder of all the world. It declares particularly, that “ God would scatter them among all people, from one end of the earth unto the otherbut “ when they should return unto the Lord their God, he would have compassion upon them, and gather them, from all the nations whither he had scattered them that “Israel should be saved in the Lord, with an everlasting salvation, and not be ashamed or confounded, world wuthout end.” And as some of these promises are conditional, others are as absolute as any thing can be expressed, that the time should come, when “ the people should be all righteous, and inherit the land for¬ ever that “ though God would make a full end of all na¬ tions whither he had scattered them, yet would he not make * Chap. 2,3, &c. CHAP. \II.] FOPv CHRISTIANITY. 231 a full end of themthat “ he would bring again the captivity of his people Israel, and plant them upon their land, and they should be no more pulled up out of their land that “ the seed of Israel should not cease from being a nation forever.”'"*^ It foretells, that Gcd would raise them up a particular person, in whom ah his promises should be fulfilled; the Messiah, who should be, in a high and eminent sense, their anointed Prince and Saviour. This was foretold in such a manner, as raised a general expectation of such a person in the nation, as apjrears from the New Testament, and is an acknowledged fact; an expectation of his coming at such a particular time, before any one appeared, claiming to be that person, and where there was no ground for such an expectation but from the prophecies ; which expectation, therefore, must in all rea¬ son be presunied to be explanatory to those prophecies, if there were any doubt about their meaning. It seems more¬ over to foretell, that this person should be rejected by that na¬ tion, to whom he had been so long promised, and though he was so much desired by them.| And it expressly foretells, that he should be the Saviour of the Gentiles ; and even that the completion of the scheme, contained in this book, and then begun, and in its progress, should be somewhat so great, that, in comparison with it, the restoration of the Jews alone would be but of small account. ‘ It is a light thing that thou shouldest be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and to restore the preserved of Israel: I will also give thee for a light to the Gentiles, that thou mayest be for salvation unto the end of the earth.’ And, ‘ In the last days, the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established in the top of the moun¬ tains, and shall be exalted above the hills; and all nations shall flow into it—for out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. And he shall judge among the nations—and the Lord alone shall be exalted in that day, and the idols he shall utterly abolish.’J The Scrip¬ ture farther contains an account, that at the time the Messiah was expected, a person rose up, in this nation, claiming to be that Messiah, to be the person whom all the prophecies * Deut. xxxiii. 64. Ch. xxx. 2, 3. Isa. xlv. 17. Ch. lx, 21. Jer, XXX. 11. Ch. Ixvi. 28. Amos ix. 15. Jer. xxxi. 36. t Isa. viii. 14, 15. Ch. x.ix. 5. Ch. liii. Mai. i. 10, 11. and Ch. iii. t Isa. xlix. 6. Ch. ii. Ch.xi. Ch.lvi.7. Mai. i, 11.—Towhiohmust be added, the other prophecies of the like kind, several in the New Testa¬ ment, and very many in the Old, which desciibe what shall be the com* pletion of the revealed plan of Providence. 2C2 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II referred to, and in whom they should centre; that he spent some years in a continued course of miraculous works, and endued his immediate disciples and followers with a power of doing the same, as a proof of the truth of that religion which lie commissioned them to publish; that, invested with this authority and power, thej?^ made numerous converts in the remotest countries, and settled and established his religion in the world; to the end of which, the Scripture professes to give a prophetic account of the state of this religion amongst mankind. Let us now suppose a person utterly ignorant of history, to have all this related to him, out of the Scriptures. Or, sup¬ pose such a one, having the Scriptures put into his hands, to remark these things in it, not knowing but that the whobt, even its civil histor}", as well as the other parts of it, might be, from beginning to end, an entire invention ; and to ask. What truth was in it, and wdiether the revelation here related was real or a fiction ? And, instead of a direct answer, sup¬ pose him, all at once, to be told the following confessed facts ; and then to unite them into one view. Let him first be told, in how great a degree the profession and establishment of natural religion, the belief that there is one God to be worshipped, that virtue is his law, and that mankind shall be rew^arded and punished hereafter, as they obey and disobey it here ; in how very great a degree, I say, the profession and establishment of this moral system in the world, is owing to the revelation, whether real or supposed, contained in this book ; the establishment of this moral sys¬ tem, even in those countries which do not acknowledge the proper authority of the Scripture. Let him be told also, what number of nations do acknowledge its proper authority. Let him then take in consideration, of w’hat importance reli¬ gion is to mankind. And upon these things, he might, I think, truly observe, that this supposed revelation’s obtaining and being received in the world, with all the circumstances and effects of it, considered together as one event, is the most conspicuous and important event in the story of mankind: that a book of this nature, and thus promulged and recom¬ mended to our consideration, demands, as if by a voice from heaven, to have its claims most seriously examined into ; and that, before such examination, to treat it with any kind of scofRng and ridicule, is an offence against natural piety. But CHAP. VII.] FOR CHRISTIANITY. 233 it is to be remembered, that how much soever the establish ment of natural religion in the world is owing to the Scrip¬ ture revelation, this does not destroy the proof of religion from reason, any more than the proof of Euclid’s Elements is de¬ stroyed, by a man’s knowing or thinking that he should never have seen the truth of the several propositions contained in it, nor had those propositions come into his thoughts, but for that mathematician. Let such a person as we are speaking of, be, in the next place, informed of the acknowledged antiquity of the first parts of this book ; and that its chronology, its account of the time when the earth, and the several parts of it, were first peopled with human creatures, is no way contradicted, but is really confirmed, by the natural and civil history of the world, collected from common historians, from the state of the earth, and the late invention of arts and sciences. And, as the Scripture contains an unbroken thread of common and civil history, from the creation to the captivity, for between three and four thousand years; let the person we are speak¬ ing of be told, in the next place, that this general history, as it is not contradicted, but is confirmed by profane history, as much as there would be reason to expect, upon supposition of its truth; so there is nothing in the whole history itself, to give any reasonable ground of suspicion, of its not being, in the general, a faithful and literally true genealogy of men, and series of things, I speak here only of the common Scripture history, or of the course of ordinary events related in it, as distinguished from miracles, and from the prophetic history. In all the Scripture narrations of this kind, following events arise out of foregoing ones, as in all other histories. There appears nothing related as done in any age, not con¬ formable to the manners of that age ; nothing in the account ^ of a succeeding age, which, one would say, could not be true, or was improbable, from the account of things in the preced¬ ing one. There is nothing in the characters, which would raise a thought of their being feigned; but all the internal marks imaginable of their being real. It is to be adde^i also, that mere genealogies, bare narratives of the number of years which persons called by such and such names lived, do not carry the face of fiction ; perhaps do carry some presumption of veracity; and all unadorned narratives, which have nothing to surprise, may be thought to carry somewhat of the like presumption too. And the domestic and the political history & plainly credible. There may be incidents in Scripture, 234 OF THE' PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II which, taken alone in the naked way tiiey are told, may ap* pear strange, especially to persons of other manners, tern-- per, education; but there are also incidents of undoubted truth, in many or most persons’ lives, which, in the same cir¬ cumstances, would appear to the full as stange. There may be mistakes of transcribers, there may be other real or seeming rrdstakes, not easy to be particularly accounted for ; but there are certainly no more things of this kind in the Scripture, than what were to have been expected in books of such an¬ tiquity ; and nothing, in any wise, sufficient to discredit the general narrative. Now, that a history, claiming to com¬ mence from the creation, and extending in one continued series, through so great a length of time, and variety of events, should have such appearances of reality and truth in its whole contexture, is surely a very remarkable circumstance in its favor. And as all this is applicable to the common history of the New Testament, so there is a farther credibility, and a very high one, given to it by profane authors ; many of these writing of the same times, and confirming the truth of customs and events, which are incidentally, as well as more purposely mentioned in it. And this credibility of the com¬ mon Scripture history, gives some credibility to its miracu¬ lous biistory; especially as this is inierwoven with the com¬ mon, so as that they imply each other, and both together make up one relation, liOt it then be more particularly observed to this person, that it is an acknowledged matter of fact, which is indeed implied in the foregoing observation, that there was such a nation as the Jews, of the greatest antiquity, whose government and general polity was founded on the law, here related to be given them by Moses as fi'om Heaven : that natural religion, though with rites additional, yet no way contrary to it, was their established religion, which cannot be said of the Gentile world ; and that their very being, as a nation, depended upon their acknowledgment of one God, the God of the universe. For suppose, in their captivity in Babylon, they had gone over to the religion of their conquerors, there would have remained no bond of union, to keep them a distinct people. And whilst they were under their own kings, in their own countr}^ a to¬ tal apostacy from God would have been the dissolution of their whole government. They in such a sense nationally acknow¬ ledged and worshipped the Maker of heaven and earth, when the rest of the world were sunk in idolatry, as rendered them, in fact, the peculiar people of God. And this so remarkable CHAr. VII.] FOR CHRISTIANITY. 235 an establishment and preservation of natural religion amongst them, seems to add some peculiar credibility to the historical evidence,for the miracles of Moses and the prophets ; because these miracles are a full satisfactory account of this event, which plainly wants to be accounted for, and cannot other¬ wise. Let this person, supposed wholly ignorant of history, be acquainted farther, that one claiming to be the Messiah, of Jewish extraction, rose up at the time when this nation, from the prophecies above mentioned, expected the Messiah: that he was rejected, as it seemed to have been foretold he should, by the body of the people under the direction of their rulers . that in the course of a very few years he was believed on, and acknowledged as the promised Messiah, by great num¬ bers among the Gentiles agreeably to the prophecies of Scrip¬ ture, yet not upon the evidence of prophecy, but of miracles, of which .miracle.s we also have strong historical evidence; (by which I mean here no more than must be acknowledged by unbelievers ; for let pious frauds and follies be admitted to weaken, it is absurd to say thej'- destroy, our evidence of miracles wrought in proof of Christianity :) that this religion approving itself to the reason of mankind, and carrying its own evidence with it, so far as reason is a judge of its system, and being no way contrary to reason in those parts of it which re¬ quire to be believed upon, the mere authority of its Author; that this religion, I say, gradually spread and supported itself, for some hundred years, not only without any assistance from temporal power,but under constant discouragements,and often the bitterest persecutions fron. it, and then became the religion of the world; that, in the mean time, the Jewish nation and go¬ vernment were destroyed in a very remarkable manner, and the people carried away captive and dispersed through the most distant countries ; in which state of dispersion they have re¬ mained fifteen hundred years ; and that they remain a nume¬ rous people, united among themselves, and distinguished from the rest of the world, as they were in the days of Moses, by the profession of his law, and every where looked upon in a manner, which one scarce knows how distinctly to express, b ut in the words of the prophetic account of it, given so many ages before it came to pass ; ‘Thou shalt become an astonish¬ ment, a proverb, and a byword, among all nations whither the Lord shall lead thee.’J t Deut xjnriii. .37 236 OP THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART 11 The appearance of a standing miracle, in the Jews remain¬ ing a distinct people in their dispositions, and the confirmation which this event appears to give to the truth of revelation, maj be thought to be answered, by their religion forbidding them intermarriages with those of any other, and prescribing them a great many peculiarities in their food, by w'hich they are debarred from the .means of incorporating with the people in whose countries they live. This is not, I think, a satisfac¬ tory account of that which it pretends to account for. But what does it pretend to account for 1 The correspondence be¬ tween this event and the prophecies; or the coincidence of both with a long dispensation of Providence, of a peculiar na¬ ture, towards that people formerly ? No. It is only the event itself which is offered to be thus accounted for ; which single event taken alone, abstracted from all such correspondence and coincidence, perhaps would not have appeared miracu¬ lous ; but that correspondence and coincidence may be so, though the event itself be supposed not. Thus the concur¬ rence of our Saviour’s being born at Bethlehem, with a long foregoing series of prophecy and other coincidences, is doubt¬ less miraculous, the series of prophecy, and other coinci¬ dences, and the event, being admitted; though the event itself, his birth at that place, appears to have been brought about in a natural way; of which, however, no one can be certain ■And as several of these events seem, in some degree, ex- pressly, to have verified the prophetic history already; so likewise they may be considered farther, as having a peculiar aspect towards the full completion of it; as affording some presumption that the whole of it shall, one time or other, be fulfilled. Thus, that the Jews have been so wonderfully pre¬ served in their long and wide dispersion ; which is indeed the direct fulfilling of some prophecies, but is now mentioned only as looking forward to somewhat yet to come: that natural religion came forth from Judea, and spread in the degree it has done over the world, before lost in idolatry; which, to¬ gether with some other things, have distinguished that very place, in like manner as the people of it are distinguished: that this great change of religion over the earth, was brought about under the profession and acknowledgment, that Jesus was the promised Messiah : things of this iiind naturally turn the thoughts of serious men towards the full completion of the prophetic history, concerning the final ]’estoration of that people ; concerning the establishment of the everlasting king¬ dom among them, the kingdom of the Messiah; and the CHA?. VII.J FOR CHRISTIANITY, 237 future state of the world, under this sacred government. Such circumstances and events compared with these prophecies, though no completions of them, jet would not, I think, be spoken of as nothing in the argument, by a person upon his first being informed of them. They fall in with the prophetic history of things still future, give it some additional credibility, have the appearance of being somewhat in order to the full completion of it. Indeed it requires a good degree of knowledge, and great calmness and consideration, to be able to judge, thoroughly, of the evidence for the truth of Christianitjq from that part of the prophetic history which relates to the situation of the kingdoms of the world, and to the state of the church, from the establishment of Christianity to the present time. But it appears from a general view of it, to be very material. And those persons who have thoroughly examined it, and some of them were men of the coolest tempers, greatest capacities, and least liable to imputations of prejudice, insist upon it as determinateiy conclusive. Suppose now a person quite ignorant of history, first to re¬ collect the passages above mentioned out of Scripture, without knowing but that the whole was a late fiction, then to be in¬ formed of the correspondent facts now mentioned, and to unite them all into one view: that the profession and establishment of natural religion in the world, is greatly owing, in different ways, to this book, and the supposed revelation which it con¬ tains ; that it is acknowledged to be of the earliest antiquity: that its chronology and comrnon history are entirely credible 5 that this ancient nation, the Jews, of whom it chiefly treats, appear to have been, in fact, the people of God, in a distin¬ guished sense; that as there was a national expectation amongst them, raised from the prophecies, of a Mes.siah to appear at such a time, so one at this time appeared, claiming to be that Messiah ; that he was rejected by this nation, but received by the Gentiles, not upon the evidence of prophecy, but of miracles; that the religion he taught supported itself under the greatest difficulties, gained ground, and at length became the religion of the world; that in the mean time the Jewish polity was utterly destroyed, and the nation dispersed over the face of the earth ; that notwithstanding this, they have remained a distinct numerous people for so many centu¬ ries, even to this day; which not only appears to be the ex¬ press completion of several prophecies concerning them; but also renders it, as one may speak, a visible and easy possi- 238 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE [PART II bility, that the promises made to them as a nation, may yet be fulfilled. And to these acknowledged truths, let the per¬ son we have been supposing add, as I think he ought whether every one will allow it or no, the obvious appear¬ ances which there are, of the state of the world, in other re¬ spects besides what relates to the Jews, and of the Christian church, having so long answered, and still answering to the prophetic history. Suppose, I say, these facts set over against the things before mentioned out of the Scripture, and seriously compared with them; the joint view of both to¬ gether, must, I think, appear of very great weight to a con¬ siderate reasonable person: of much greater, indeed, upon having them first laid before him, than is easy for us, who are so familiarized to them, to conceive, without some particu¬ lar attention for that purpose. ' All these things, and the several particulars contained un¬ der them, require to be distinctly arid most thoroughly ex¬ amined into ; that the weight of each may be judged of, upon such examination, and such conclusion drawn as results from iheir united force. But this has not been attempted here. 1 have gone no farther than to show, that the general imperfect view of them now given, the confessed historical evidence for 0 3 miracles, and the many obvious appearing completions' of prophecy, together with the collateral things* here men¬ tioned, and there are several others of the like sort; that all this together, which, being fact, must be acknowledged by unbelievers, amounts to real evidence of somewhat more than human in this matter: evidence much more important, than careless men, who have been accustomed only to transient and partial views of it, can imagine ; and indeed abundantly sufficient to act upon. And these things, I apprehend, must be acknowledged by unbelievers. For though they may say, that the historical evidence of miracles, wrought in attesta¬ tion of Christianity, is not sufficient to convince them that such miracles were really wrought; they cannot deny, that there is such historical evidence, it being a known matter of fact that there is. They may say, the conformity between the prophecies and events, is by accident; but there are many instances in which such conformity itself cannot be denied. They may say, with regard to such kind of collateral things as those above mentioned, that any odd accidental events, * All the particular thing-s mentioned in this chapter, not reducible to the head of certain miracles, or determinate completions of prophecy CHAP. VII.] for CHRISTIANITY. •:39 ^without meaning, will have a meaning found in them by fan¬ ciful people ; and that such as are fanciful in any one certain way, will make out a thousand coincidents, which seem to favor their peculiar follies. Men, I say, may talk thus ; but no one who is serious, can possibly think these things to be notliing, if he considerb the importance of collateral things, and even of lesser circumstances, in the e\'ideiice of proba¬ bility, as distinguished, in nature, from the evidence of demon¬ stration. In many cases, indeed, it seems to require the truest judgment, to determine v.dth exactness the weight of circumstantial evidence; but it is very often altogether as convincing, as that which is the most express and direct. This general view of the endence for Christianity, con¬ sidered as making one argument, may also serve to recom¬ mend to serious persons, to set down every thing which they think may be of any real weight at all in proof of it, and par¬ ticularly the many seeming completions of prophecj"; and thej^ will find, that, judging by the natural rules, by which we judge of probable evidence in common matters, they amount to a much higher degree of proof, upon such a joint review, than could be supposed upon considering them sepa¬ rately, at dhrorent times ; how strong soever the proof might before appear to them, upon such separate views of it. For probable proofs, by being added, not onlj^ increase tiie evi¬ dence, but muliiply it. Nor should I dissuade any one from setting down what he thought made for the contrary side. But then it is to be rememberecl, not in order to influence Iris judgment, but his practice, that a mistake on one side, may be, in its consequences, much more dangerous than a mistake on the other. And what course is most safe, and what most dangerous, is a consideration thought very material, when we deliberate, not concerning events, but concerning conduct in our temporal affairs. To be influenced by this consideration in our judgment, to believe or disbelieve upon it, is indeed as much prejudice, as any thing whatevaer. And, like other prejudices, it operates contrary wa^^s in different men. For some are inclined to believe what they hope; and others, what they fear And it is manifest niireasonableiiess, to apply to men’s passions in order to gain their assent. But ill deliberations concerning conduct, there is nothing which reason more requires to be taken into the account, than the importance of it. For, suppose it doubtful, what would be the consequence of acting in this, or in a contrary manner j still, that taking one side could be attended with fit tie or no 240 OF THE PARTICULAR EVIDENCE, &C. [PART II bad consequence, and taking the other might be attended with the greatest, must appear, to unprejudiced reason, of the highest moment towards determining how we are to act. But the truth of our religion, like the truth of common matters, is to be judged of hy all the evidence taken together. And unless the whole series of things which may be alleged in this argu¬ ment, and every particular thing in it, can reasonably be sup¬ posed to have been by accident, (for here the stress of the argu¬ ment for Christianity lies,) then is the truth of it proved : in like manner as if, in any common case, numerous events acknow¬ ledged, were to be alleged in proof of any other event dis¬ puted ; the proof of the disputed event would be proved, not only if any one of the acknowledged ones did of itself clearly imply it, but, though no one of them singly did so, if the whole of the acknowledged events taken together, could not in reason be supposed to have happened, unless the disputed one were true. It is obvious, how much advantage the nature ^of this evi¬ dence gives to those persons who attack Christianity, espe¬ cially in conversation. For it is easy to show, in a short and lively manner, that such and such things are liable to objec¬ tion, that this and another thing is of little weight in itself; but impossible to show, in like manner, the united force of the whole argument in one view. However, lastly, as it has been made appear, that there is no presumption against a revelation as miraculous ; that the general scheme of Christianity, and the principal parts of it, are conformable to the experienced constitution of things, and the whole perfectly credible ; so the account now given of the positive evidence for it, shows, that this evidence is such, as, from the nature of it, cannot be destroyed, though it should be lessened, CilA.r. Vlil.] OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY, &C. 241 CHAPTER Vm. Of the Objections which m ay be made against arguing from the Jlncdogy of JVature to Religion. If every one would consider, with such attention as they are bound, even in point of morality, to consider, what they judge and give characters of, the occasion of this chapter would be, in some good measure at least, superseded. But since this is not to expected ,• for some we find do not concern themselves to understand even what they write against : since this treatise, in common with most others, lies open to objections, which may appear very material to thoughtful men at first sight j and, besides that, seems peculiarly liable to the objections of such as can judge without thinking, and of such as can censure without judging ; it may not be amiss to set down the chief of these objections which occur to me, and con¬ sider them to their hands. And they are such as these :— “ That it is a poor thing to solve difficulties in revelation, b}’ saying, that there are the same in natural religion; when what is wanting is to clear both of them, of these their common, as well as other their respective, difficulties: but that it is a strange way indeed of convincing men of the obligations of re¬ ligion, to show them that they have as little reason for then worldly pursuits; and a strange way of vindicating the justice and goodness of the Author of nature, and of removing the ob¬ jections against both, to which the system of religion lies open, to show, that the like objections lie against natural providence; a way of answering objections against religion, without so much as pretending to make out, that the system of it, or the particular things in it objected against, are reasonable—espe¬ cially, perhaps, some may be inattentive enough to add, must this be thought strange, when it is confessed that analogy is no answer to such objections: that when this sort of reason’ 242 OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY [PART II. ing is carried to the utmost length it can be imagined capable of, it will yet leave the mind in a very unsatislied state; and that it must be unaccountable ignorance of mankind, to ima¬ gine they will be prevailed with to forego their present inter¬ ests and pleasures, from regard to religion, upon doubtful evi¬ dence/’ Now, as plausible as this way of talking may appear, that appearance will be found in a great measure owing to half¬ views, which show but part of an object, yet show that indis¬ tinctly ; and to undeterminate language. By these means weak men are often deceived by others, and ludicrous men by themselves. And even those who are serious and considerate cannot always readily disentangle, and at once clearly see through the perplexities in which subjects themselves are in¬ volved ; and which are heightened by the deficiencies and the abuse of words. To this latter sort of persons, the following reply to each part of this objection severally, may be of som e assistance ; as it may also tend a little to stop and silence others. Firsts The thing wanted, i. e. what men require, is to have all difficulties cleared. And this is, or, at least for any thing we know to the contrary, it may be, the same, as requiring to com¬ prehend the divine nature, and the whole plan of Providence from everlasting. But it hath always been allowed to argue, from what is acknowledged to wdiat is disputed. And it is in no other sense a poor thing, to argue from natural religion to re¬ vealed, in the manner found fault with, than it is to argue in numberless other ways of probable deduction and inference, in matters of conduct, which we are continually reduced to the necessity of doing. Indeed the epithet poor may be applied, I fear, as properly to great part, or the whole, of human life, as it is to the things mentioned in the objection. Is it not a poor thing, for a physician to have so little knowledge in the cure of diseases, as even the most eminent have ? To act upon con¬ jecture and guess, where the life of man is conccxned ? Un¬ doubtedly it is: but not in comparison of having no skill at all in that useful art, and being obliged to act wholly in the dark. Further: Since it is as unreasonable as it is common, to urge objections against revelation, which are of equal weight against ratural religion ; and those who do this, if they are not confuted themselves, deal unfairly with others, in making it seem that they are arguing only against revelation, or particu¬ lar doctrines of it, vvhen in reality they are arguing against CHAP. VIII.] OF NATURE TO RELIGION. 243 moral providence; it is a thing of consequence to show, that such objections are as much levelled against natural religion, as against revealed. And objections, which are equally ap plicable tc both, are, properly speaking, answered, by its being shown that they are so, provided the former be admitted to be true. And without taking in the consideration how distinctly this is admitted, it is plainly very material to ob¬ serve, that as the things objected against in natural religion, are of the same kind with what is certain matter of experi¬ ence in the course of providence, and in the information which God alFords us concerning our temporal interest under his go¬ vernment ; so the objections against the system of Christi¬ anity and the evidence of it, are of the very same kind with those which are made against the system and evidence of natural religion. However, the reader upon review may see, that most of the analogies insisted upon, even in the latter part of this treatise, do not necessarily require to have more taken for granted than is in the former; that there is an Au¬ thor of nature, or natural Governor of the world; and Chris¬ tianity is vindicated, not from its analogy to natural religion, but chiefl}'', from its analogy to the experienced constitution of nature. Secondly^ Religion is a practical thing, and consists in such a determinate course of life; as being what, there is reason to think, is commanded by the Author of nature, and will, upon the whole, be our happiness under his government. Now if men can be convinced that they have the like reason to believe this, as to believe that taking care of their temporal affairs will be to their advantage, such conviction cannot but be an argument to them for the practice of religion. And if there be really any reason for believing one of these, and endeavouring to preserve life, and secure ourselves the neces¬ saries and conveniences of it; then there is reason also for believing the other, and endeavouring to secure the interest it proposes to us. And if the interest which religion proposes to us be infinitely greater than our whole teUiporal interest, tl^en there must be proportionably greater reason for endea¬ vouring to secure one, than the other: since by the supposi¬ tion, the probability of our securing one, is equal to the pro¬ bability of our securing the other. This seems plainly unan¬ swerable • and has a tendency to influence fair minds, who consider what our condition really is, or upon what evidence we are naturally appointed to act; and who are disposed to acquiesce in the terms upon which we live, and attend to and 244 OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY [PAET II follow that practical instruction, whatever it be, which is tiflbrded us. But the chief and proper force of the argument referred to in the objection, lies in another place. For it is said, that the proof of religion is involved in such inextricable difficulties, as to render it doubtful; and that it cannot be supposed, that if it were true, it would be left upon doubtful evidence. Here, then, over and above the force of each particular difficulty or objection, these difficulties and objections, taken together, an turned into a positive argument against the truth of religion, which argument would stand thus. If religion were true, if would not be left doubtful, and open to objections to the de¬ gree in which it is; therefore, that it is thus left, not only ren¬ ders the evidence of it weak, and lessens its force, in propor¬ tion to the weight of such objections ; but also shows it to be false, or is a general presumption of its being so. Now the observation, that from the natural constitution and course of things, we must in our temporal concerns, almost continually, and in matters of great consequence, act upon evidence of a like kind and degree to the evidence of religion, is an answer to this argument; because it shows, that it is according to the conduct and character of the Author of nature to appoint we should act upon evidence like to that, which this argu¬ ment presumes he cannot be supposed to appoint we should act upon: it is an instance, a general one made up of nu¬ merous particular ones, of somewhat in his dealing with us, similar to what is said to be incredible. And as the force of this answer lies merely in the parallel which th(!re is between the evidence for religion and for our temporal conduct; the answer is equally just and conclusive, whether the parallel be made out, by showing the evidence of the former to be higher, or the evidence of the latter to be lower. Thirdly, The design of this treatise is not to vindicate the character of God, but to show the obligations of men; it is not to justify his providence, but to show what belongs to us to do. These are two subjects, and ought not to be con¬ founded. And though they may at length run up into each other, yet observations may immediately tend to make out the latter, which do not appear, by any immediate connexion, to the purpose of the former: which is less our concern than many seem to think. For, 1st, It is not necessary we should justify the dispensations of Providence against objections, any farther than to show, that the things objected against may fbr aught we know, be consistent with justice and goddness CHAP. VIII.] OF NATURE TO RELIGION. 2i5 Suppose, then, that there are things in the system of this world, and plan of Providence relating to it, which taken alone would be unjust, yet it has been shown unanswerably, that if we could take in the reference which these things may have to other things present, past, and to come; to the whole sr.hem.e, which the things objected against are parts of; these very things might, for aught we know, be found to be, not only consistent with justice, but instances of it. Indeed it has been shown, by the analogy of what we see, not only possi¬ ble that this may be the case, but credible that it is. And thus objections, drawn from such things, are answered, and Providence is vindicated, as far as religion makes its vindica¬ tion necessary. Hence it appears, 2dly^ That objections against the divine justness and goodness are not endeavoured to be removed, by showing that the like objections, allowed to be really conclusive, lie against natural providence: but those objections being supposed and shown not to be conclu¬ sive, the things objected against, considered as matters of fact, are farther shown to be credible, from their conformity to the constitution of nature ; for instance, that God will reward and punish men for their actions hereafter, from the observa¬ tion that he does reward and punish them for their actions here. And this, I apprehend, is of weight. And I add, 3d/y, It would be of weight, even though those objections were not answered. For, there being the proof of religion above set down, and religion impl 3 hng several facts ; for instance, again, the fact last mentioned, that God will reward and punish men for their actions hereafter; the observation that his present method of government is by rewards and punishments, shows that future fact not to be incredible ; whatever objections men may think they have against it, as unjust or unmerciful, ac¬ cording to their notions of justice and mercy; or as improba¬ ble from their belief of necessity. I say, as improbable ; for it is evident no objection against it, as unjust^ can be urged fj'om necessity ; since this notion as much destroys injustice, as it does justice. Then, Though objections against the reasonableness of the system of religion, cannot indeed be answered without entering into a consideration of its reasona¬ bleness, yet objections against the credibility or truth of it may. Because the system of it is reducible into what is pro¬ perly matter of fact; and the truth, the probable truth, of facts, may be shown without consideration of their reasonableness. iXor is it necessary, though, in some cases and respects, it is highly useful and pirop'er, yet it is not necess’ary, to give a proof 246 OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY [PART IL of the reasonableness of every precept enjoined us, and of every particular dispensation of Providence, which comes into the system of religion. Indeed the more thoroughly a person of a right disposition is convinced of the perfection of the divine nature and conduct, the farther he will advance towards that perfection of religion, which St John speaks of."^ But the general obligations of religion are fully made out, by proving the reasonableness of the practice of it. And that the prac¬ tice of religion is reasonable, may be shown, though no more could be proved, than that the system of it may be so, for aught we know to the contrary ; and even without entering into the distinct consideration of this. And from hence, dthly^ It is easy to see, that though the analogy of nature is not an immediate answer to objections against the wisdom, the jus¬ tice, or goodness, of any doctrine or precept of religion; yet it may be, as it is, an immediate and direct answer to what is really intended by such objections ; which is, to show that the things objected against are incredible. Fourthly, It is most readily acknowledged, that the fore¬ going Treatise is by no means satisfactory ; very far indeed from it: but so would any natural institution of life appear, if reduced into a system, together with its evidence. Leav ing religion out of the case, men are divided in their opinions, whether our pleasures over-balance our pains; and whether it be, or be not, eligible to live in this world. And were all such controversies settled, which, perhaps, in speculation would be found involved in great difficulties ; and w^ere it de¬ termined, upon the evidence of reason, as nature has deter¬ mined it to our hands, that life is to be preserved ; yet still, the rules which God has been pleased to afford us, for escap¬ ing the miseries of it, and obtaining its satisfactions, the rules, for instance, of preserving health and recovering it when lost, are not only fallible, and precarious, but very far from being exact. Nor are we informed by nature, in future contin¬ gencies and accidents, so as to render it at all certain, what is the best method of managing our affairs. What will be the success of our temporal pursuits, in the common sense of the word success, is highly doubtful. And what will be the suc¬ cess of them, in the proper sense of the word ; t. e. what hap¬ piness or enjoyment we shall obtain by them, is doubtful in a much higher degree. Indeed, the unsatisfactory nature of the evidence, with which we are obliged to take up, in the ♦ 1 John iv, 18. CHAP. VIII.] OF NATURE TO RELIGION. 247 daily course of life, is scarce to be expressed. Yet men do not throw away life, or disregard the interests of it, upon ac* count of this doubtfulness. The evidence of religion then being admitted real, those who object against it, as not satis¬ factory, i. e. as not being what they wish it, plainly forget the very condition of our being ; for satisfaction, in this sense, does not belong to such a creature as man. j^nd, which is more material, they forget also the very nature of religion. For, religion presupposes, in all those who will embrace it, a certain degree of integrity and honesty; which it was in¬ tended to try whether men have or not, and to exercise in such as have it, in order to its improvement. Religion pre¬ supposes this as much, and in the same sense, as speaking to a man presupposes he understands the language in which you speak; or as warning a man of any danger, presupposes that he has such a regard to himself, as that he will endeavour to avoid it. And therefore the question is not at all. Whether the evidence of religion be satisfactory ? but, Whether it be, in reason, sufficient to prove and discipline that virtue which it presupposes ? Now, the evidence of it is fully sufficient for all those purposes of probation; how far soever it is from being satisfactory, as to the purposes of curiosity, or any other: and indeed it answers the purposes of the former in several respects, which it would not do, if it were as over¬ bearing as is required. One might add farther, that whether the motives, or the evidence for any course of actions, be satis¬ factory, meaning here by that word, what satisfies a man, that such a course of action will in event be for his good ; this need never be, and I think, strictly speaking, never is, the ])ractical question in common matters. But the practical question in all cases, is. Whether the evidence for a course of action be such, as, taking in all circumstances, makes the faculty Vithin us, which is the guide and judge of conduct,* determine that course of action to be prudent ? Indeed, satis¬ faction that it will be for our interest or happiness, abundantly determines an action to be prudent; but evidence, almost in¬ finitely lower than this, determines actions to be so too, even in the conduct of every day. Fifthly^ As to the objection concerning the influence which this argument, or any part of it, may, or may not, be expected to have upon men, I observe, as above, that religion being in¬ tended for a trial and exercise of the moiality of every persorfls ♦ See Dissertation 2. 248 OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY [paRT II. character, who is a subject of it; and there being, as I have shown, such evidence for it, as is sufficient, in reason, to influ¬ ence men to embrace it; to object, that it is not to be ima¬ gined mankind will be influenced by such evidence, is nothing to the purpose of the foregoing Treatise. For the purpose of it is not to inquire. What sort of creatures mankind are; but, Wliat the light and knowledge, which is afforded them, re¬ quires they should be ? to show how, in reason, they ought to behave; not how, in fact, they will behave. This de pends upon themselves, and is their own concern; the per sonal concern of each man in particular. And how little re¬ gard the generality have to it, experience, indeed, does too fully show. But religion, considered as a probation, has had its end upon all persons, to whom it has been proposed, with evidence sufficient in reason to' influence their practice; for by this means they have been put into a state of probation j let them behave as they will in it. And thus, not only reve¬ lation, but reason also, teaches us, that by the evidence of re¬ ligion being laid before men, the designs of Providence are carf 3 ring on, not only with regard to those who will, but like¬ wise with regard to those who will not, be influenced by it. However, lastly, the objection here referred to, allows the things insisted upon in this Treatise to be of some weight; and if so, it may be hoped it will have some influence. And if there be a probability that it will have any at all, there is the same reason in kind, though not in degree, to lay it before men, as there would be, if it were likely to have a greate-i in¬ fluence. And farther, I desire it may be considered, with respect to the whole of the foregoing objections, that in this Treatise I have argued upon the principles of others,* not my own; and have omitted what I think true, and of the most importance, because by others thought unintelligible, or not true. Thus I have argued upon the principles of the Fatalists, which I do not believe; and have omitted a thing of the utmost importance, which I do believe, the moral fitness and unfitness of actions, 1 prior to all will whatever; which I apprehend as certainly to I determine the divine conduct, as speculative truth and false- j hood necessarily determine the divine judgment. Indeed ♦By arguing upon the principles of others, the reader will observe is meant, not provins^ any thing/rom those principles, but notwithstanding them. Thus religion is proved, not from the opinion of necessity, which is absurd, but mtwUkstunding or even thxmgh that opinion were admitted to be true. CHAP. VIII.] OP NATURE TO RELIGION. 249 the principle of liberty, and that of moral fitness, so force themselves upon the mind, that moralists, the ancients as well as moderns, have formed their language upon it. And probably it may appear in mine, though I have endeavoured to avoid it: and in order to avoid it, have sometimes been obliged to ex¬ press myself in a manner which will appear strange to such as do not observe the reason for it; but the general argument here pursued does not at all suppose, or proceed upon, these principles. Now, these two abstract principles of liberty and moral fitness being omitted, religion can be considered in no other view than merely as a question of fact; and in this view it is here considered. It is obvious, that Christianity, and the proof of it, are both historical. And even natural religion is, properly, a matter of fact. For, that there is a righteous Governor of the world, is so; arid this proposition contains the general system of natural religion. But then, several ab¬ stract truths, and in particular those two principles, are usually taken into consideration in the proof of it; whereas it is here treated of only as a matter of fact. To explain this : that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones, is an abstract truth; but that they appear so to our mind, is only a matter of fact. And this last must have been ad mitted, if any thing was, by those ancient sceptics, who would not have admitted the former; but pretend to doubt. Whether there were any such thing as truth ; or, Whether we could certainly depend upon our faculties of understanding for the knowledge of it in any case. So likewise, that there is, in the nature of things, an original standard of right and wrong in actions, independent upon all will, but which unalterably determines the will of God, to exercise that moral government over the world which religion teaches, i. e. finally and upon the whole to reward and punish men respectively as they act right or wrong; this assertion contains an abstract truth, as well as matter of fact. But suppose in the present state, every man, without exception, was rewarded and punished, in exact proportion as he followed or transgressed that sense of right and wrong, which God has implanted in the nature of every man ; this would not be at all an abstract truth, but only a matter of fact. And though this fact were acknow¬ ledged by every one, yet the very same difficulties might be raised, as are now, ooncerning the abstract questions of liberty and moral fitness : and we should have a proof, even the cer¬ tain one of experience, that the government of the world was oerfeotly moral, without taking in the consideration of those 250 OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE ANALOGY [PAKT II. questions: and this proof would remain, in what waj soever they were determined. And thus, God having given man¬ kind a moral faculty, the object of which is actions, and which naturally approves some actions as right and of good desert, and condemns others as wrong and of ill desert: that he will, finally and upon the whole, reward the former and punish the latter, is not an assertion of an abstract truth, but ot what is as mere a fact as his doing so at present would be. This future fact I have not indeed proved with the force with which it might be proved, from, the principles of liberty and moral fitness ‘ but without them have given a really conclu¬ sive practical proof of it, wdiich is greatly strengthened by the general analogy of nature; a proof easily cavilled at, easily shown not to be demonstrative, for it is not offered as such, but impossible, I think, to be evaded or answered. And thus the obligations of religion are made out, exclusively of the questions concerning liberty and moral fitness ; w^hich have been perplexed with difficulties and abstruse reasonings, as every thing may. Hence, therefore, may be observed distinctly, what is the force of this Treatise. It will be, to such as are convinced of religion, upon the proof arising out of the two last men¬ tioned principles, an additional proof and a confirmation of it, to such as do not admit those principles, an original proof o( it, and a confirmation of that proof. Those who believe, will here find the scheme of Christianity cleared of objections and the evidence of it in a peculiar manner strengthened. those who do not believe, will at least be shown the absurdity of all attempts to prove Christianity false, the plain undoubted credibility of it, and, I hope, a good deal more. And thus, though some perhaps may seriously think, that analogy, as here urged, has too great stress laid upon it; and lidicule, unanswerable ridicule, may be applied, to show the argument from it in a disadvantageous light: yet there can be no question, but that it is a real one. For religion, both natural and revealed, implying in it numerous facts ; analogy being a confirmation of all facts to wdiich it can be applied, as it is the only proof of most, cannot but be admitted by every one to be a material thing, and truly of weight on the side of religion, both natural and revealed; and it ought to be particularly regarded by such as profess to follow nature, and to be less satisfied with abstract reasonings. PART II. 1 CONCLUSION. 2oJ CONCLUSION. Whatever account may be given, of the strange inatten¬ tion and disregard, in some ages and countries, to a matter of such importance as religion, it would, before experience, be liicredible, that there should be the like disregard in those, who have had the moral system of the world laid before them, as it is by Christianity, and often inculcated upon them; be¬ cause this moral system carries in it a good degree of evi¬ dence for its truth, upon its being barely proposed to our thoughts. There is no need of abstruse reasonings and dis¬ tinctions, to convince an unprejudiced understanding, that there is a God who made and governs the world, and who will judge it in righteousness; though they may be necessary to answer abstruse difficulties, when once such are raised ; w hen the very meaning of those words, which express most intelligibly the general doctrine of religion, is pretended to be uncertain, and the clear truth of the thing itself is obscured by the intricacies of speculation. But, to an unprejudiced mind, ten thousand thousand instances of design, cannot but prove a Designer. And it is intuitively manifest, that crea¬ tures ought to live under a dutiful sense of their Maker ; and that justice and charity must be his laws, to creatures whom he has made social, and placed in society. Indeed, the truth of revealed religion, peculiarly so called, is not self-evident, but requires external proof, in order to its being received. Yet inattention, among us, to revealed religion, will be found to imply the same dissolute immoral temper of mind, as inat¬ tention to natural religion; because, when both are laid be¬ fore us, in the manner they are in Christian countries of liberty, our obligations to inquire into both, and to embrace both upon supposition of their truth, are obligations of the same nature. For, revelation claims to be the voice of God ; and our obligation to attend to his voice, is, surely, moral in all cases. And as it is insisted, that its evidence is conclu¬ sive, upon thorough consideration of it; so it offers itself to us 252 CONCLUSION. [part II. with manifest obvious appearances of naving something more than human in it, and therefore in all reason requires to have its claims most seriously examined into. It is to be added, that though light and knowledge, in what manner soever afforded us, is equally from God ; yet a miraculous revelation has a peculiar tendency, from the first principles of our nature, to awaken mankind, and inspire them with reverence and awe: and this is a peculiar obligation, to attend to what claims to be so with such appearances of truth. It is therefore most certain, that our obligations to inquire seriously into the evidence of Christianity, and, upon supposition of its truth, to embrace it, are of the utmost importance, and moral in the highest and most proper sense. Let us then suppose, that the evidence of religion in general, and of Christianity, has been seriously inquired into by all reasonable men among us. Yet we find many professedly to reject both, upon specula¬ tive principles of infidelity. And all of them do not content themselves with a bare neglect of religion, and enjoying their imaginary freedom from its restraints. Some go much beyond this. They deride God’s moral government over the world: they renounce his protection, and defy his justice: they ridicule and vilify Christianity, and blaspheme 'the Au¬ thor of it; and take all occasions to manifest a scorn and con¬ tempt of revelation. This amounts to an active setting them¬ selves against religion ; to what may be considered as a posi¬ tive principle of irreligion ; which they cultivate within them¬ selves, and, whether they intend this effect or not, render habitual, as a good man does the contrary principle. And others, who are not chargeable with all this profligateness, yet are in avowed opposition to religion, as if discovered to be groundless. Now admitting, which is the supposition we go upon, that these persons act upon what they think principles of reason, and otherwise they are not to be argued with; it is really inconceivable, that they should imagine they clearly see the whole evidence of it, considered in itself, to be nothing at all; nor do they pretend this. They are far indeed from having a just notion of its evidence ; but they would not say its evidence was nothing, if they thought the system of it, with all its circumstances, were credible, like other matters of science or history. So that their manner of treating it must proceed, either from such kind of objections against all reli¬ gion, as have been answered or obviated in the former part of this Treatise; or else from objections and difficulties, supposed more peculiar to Christianity, Thus, they entertain preju- PART II.J CONCLUSION. 253 dices against the whole notion of a revelation and miraculous interpositions. They find things in Scripture, whether in in¬ cidental passages or in the general scheme of it, which ap pear to them unreasonable. They take for granted, that ij Christianity were true, the light of it must have been more general, and the evidence of it more satisfactory, or rather overbearing ; that it must and would have been, in some way, otherwise put and left, than it is. Now, this is not imagining they see the evidence itself to be nothing, or inconsiderable; but quite another thing. It is being fortified against the evi¬ dence, in some degree acknowledged, by Tanking they see the system of Christianity, or somewhat which appears to them necessarily connected with it, to be incredible or false ; fortified against that evidence, which might, otherwise, make great impression upon them. Or, lastly, if any of these per¬ sons are, upon the whole, in doubt concerning the truth of Christianity, their behaviour seems owing to their taking for granted, through strange inattention, that such doubting is, in a manner, the same thing as being certain against it. To these persons, and to this state of opinion concerning re¬ ligion, the foregoing Treatise is adapted. For, all the ge¬ neral objections against the moral system of nature having been obviated, it is shown, that there is not any peculiar pre¬ sumption at all against Christianity, either considered as not discoverable by reason, or as unlike to what is so discovered ; nor any worth mentioning, against it as miraculous, if any at all; none certainly, which can render it in the least incredible. It is shown, that upon supposition of a divine revelation, the analogy of nature renders it beforehand highly credible, 1 think probable, that man}^ things in it must appear liable to great objections ; and that we must be incompetent judges of it, to a great degree. This observation is, I think, unques¬ tionably true, and of the very utmost importance: but it is urged, as I hope it will be understood, with great caution of not vilifying the faculty of reason, which is ‘ the candle of the Lord within us though it can afford no light, where it does not shine ; nor judge, where it has no principles to judge upon. The objections here spoken of, being first ansM^ered in the view of objections against Christianity as a matter of fact, are in the next place considered as urged more immedi¬ ately against the wisdom, justice, and goodness of the Chris¬ tian dispensation. And it is fully made out, that they admit ♦ Prov. XX. 27 254 COKCLUSIOK. [part Ji of exactly the like answer, in every respect, to wnat the like objections against the constitution of nature admit of: that, as partial views give the appearance of wrong to things, which upon farther consideration and knowledge of their relations to other things, are found just and goo«1; so it is perfectly credi¬ ble, that the things objected against the wisdom and goodness of the Christian dispensation, may be rendered instances of wisdom and goodness by their reference to other things be¬ yond our view : because Christianity is a scheme as much above our comprehension, as that of nature ; and, like that, a scheme in which means are made use of to accomplish ends, and which, as is most credible, may be carried on by general laws. And it ought to be attended to, that this is not an an¬ swer taken merely or chiefly from our ignorance ; but from somewhat positive, which our observation shows us. For, to like objections, the like answer is experienced to be just, in numberless parallel ca^ses. The objections against the Chris¬ tian dispensation, and the method by which it is carried on, having been thus obviated, in general and together: the chief of them are considered distinctly, and the particular things objected to are shown credible, by their perfect analogy, each part, to the constitution of nature. Thus, if man be fallen from his primitive state, and to be restored, and infinite wis¬ dom and power engages in accomplishing our recovery; it were to have been expected, it is said, that this should have been effected at once, and not by such a long series of means, and such a various economy of persons and things; one dis¬ pensation preparatory to another, this to a farther one, and so on through an indefinite number of ages, before the end of the scheme proposed can be completely accomplished ; a scheme conducted by infinite wisdom, and executed by Almdghty power. But now, on the contrary, our finding that every thing in the constitution and course of nature is thus carried on, shows such expectations concerning revelation to be highly unreasonable; and is a satisfactory answer to them, when urged as objections against the credibility, that the great scheme of Providence in the redemption of the world, may be of this kind, and to be accomplished in this manner. As to the particular method of our r^emption, the appoint¬ ment of a Mediator between God and man; this has been shown to be most obviously analogous to the general con¬ duct of nature, i. e. the God of nature, in appointing others to be the instruments of his mercy, as we experience in the daily course of Pro\ddence. The condition of this world PiRl II,] CONCLUSION. 255 which the doctrine of our redemption bj Chiist presupposes, BO much falls in with natural appearances, that heathen moraKsts inferred it from those appearances; inferred, that human nature was fallen from its original rectitude, and, in consequence of this, degraded from its primitive happiness. Or, however this opinion came into the world, these appear¬ ances must have kept up the tradition, and confirmed the be¬ lief of it. And it was the general opinion, under the light of nature, that repentance and reformation, alone and by itself, was not sufficient to do away sin, and procure a full remission of the penalties annexed to it; and as the reason of the thing does not at all lead to any conclusion ; so eveiy day’s expe¬ rience shows us that reformation is not, m any sort, sufficient to prevent the present disadvantages and miseries, which, in the natural course of things, God has annexed to folly and extravagance. Yet there may be ground to think, that the punishments, which by the general laws of divine govern¬ ment, are annexed to vice, maj^ be prevented; that pro¬ vision may have been, even originally, made, that they should be prevented by some means or other, though they could not by reformation alone. For we have daily instances of such mercy, in the general conduct of nature; compassion pro¬ vided for misery,* medicines for diseases, friends*against ene¬ mies. There is provisions made, in the original constitution of the world, that much of the natural bad consequences of our follies, which persons themselves alone cannot prevent, may be prevented by the assistance of others; assistance, which nature enables, and disposes, and appoints them to afford. By a method of goodness analogous to this, when the world lay in wickedness, and consequently in ruin, ‘ God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son’ to save it; and ‘ he being made perfect by suffering, became the author of eternal salvation to all them that obey him.’p Indeed, neither reason nor analogy would lead us to think, in particular, that the interposition of Christ, in the manner in which he did interpose, would be of that efficacy for recovery of the world, which the Scripture teaches us it was; but neither would reason nor analogy lead us to think, that other particular means would be of the efficacy, which experience shows they are, in numberless instances. \nd therefore, as the case before us does not admit of experience, so that neither reason nor analogy can show how, or in what particular way, ♦ Sermon 6th, at the Rolls. f John iii. 16, Heb. v. 9. 256 CONCLUSION. [part II the interposition of Christ, as revealed in Scripture, is of that efficacy which it is there represented to be; this is no kind nor degree of presumption against its being really of that effi- cac}". Farther: the objections against Christianitj^, from the light of it not being universal, nor its evidence so strong as might possibly be given us, have been answered by the ge¬ neral analogy of nature. That God has made such variety of creatures, is indeed an answer to the former: but that he dispenses his gifts in such variety, both of degrees and kinds, amongst creatures of the same species, and even to the same individuals at different times, is a more obvious and full an¬ swer to it. And it is so far from being the method of Provi¬ dence, in other cases, to afford us such overbearing evidence as some require in proof of Christianity, that, on the contrarjq the evidence upon which we are naturally appointed to act in common matters, throughout a very great part of life, is doubtful in a high degree. And, admitting the fact, that God has afforded to some no more than doubtful evidence oi religion, the same account may be given of it, as of difficul¬ ties and temptations with regard to practice. But as it is not impossible, surely, that this alleged doubtfulness may he men’s own fault, it deserves their most serious consideration, whether it be not so. However, it is certain that doubting implies a degree of evidence for that of which we doubt, and that this degree of evidence as really lays us under obliga¬ tions, as demonstrative evidence. The whole then of religion is throughout credible ; nor is there, I think, any thing relating to the revealed dispensation of things more different from the experienced constitution and course of nature, than some parts of the constitution of nature are from other parts of it. And if so, the only question which remains is. What positive evidence can be alleged for the truth of Christianity ? This too, in general, has been considered, and the objections against it estimated. Deduct therefore what is to be deducted from that evidence, upon account of any weight v/hich may be thought to remain in these objections, after what the analogy of nature has suggested in answer to them; and then consider what are the practical consequences from all this, upon the most sceptical principles one can argue upon, (for I am writing to persons who entertain these princi¬ ples :) and, upon such consideration, it will be obvious, that im¬ morality, as little excuse as it admits of in itself, is greatly PART II. CONCLUSION. 25V aggra.vated, in persons who have been made acquainted with Christianity, whether they believe it or not; because the moral system of nature, or natural religion, which Christianity lays before us, approves itself, almost intuitively, to a reasonable mind, upon seeing it proposed. In the next place, with regard to Christianity it will be observed, that there is a middle, be¬ tween a full satisfaction of the truth of it, and the satisfaction of the contrary^ The middle state of mind between these two consists in a serious apprehension that it may be true, joined with doubt, whether it be so. And thisj upon the best judgment I am able to make, is as far towards speculative in¬ fidelity, as any sceptic can at all be supposed to go, who has had true Christianity, with the proper evidence of it, laid be¬ fore him, and has in any tolerable measure considered them. For I would not be mistaken to comprehend all who have ever heard of it; because it seems evident, that, in many countries called Christian, neither Christianity, , nor its evi¬ dence, are fairly laid before men. And in places where both are, there appear to be some who have very little attended to either, and who reject Christianity with a scorn proportionate to their inattention; and yet are by no means without under¬ standing in other matters. Now it has been shown, that a se¬ rious apprehension that Christianity may be true, lays per¬ sons under the strictest obligations of a serious regard to it, throughout the whole of their life; a regard not the same exactly, but in many respects nearly the same with what a full conviction of its truth would lay them under. Lastly, it will appear, that blasphemy and profaneness, I mean with regard to Christianity, are absolutely without excuse. For there is no temptation to it, but from the wantonness of vanity or mirth; and these, considering the infinite importance of the subject, are no such temptations as to afford any excuse for it. If this be a just account of things, and yet men can go on to vilify or disregard Christianity, which is to talk and act as if they had a demonstration of its falsehood; there is no reason to think they would ^alter their behaviour to any purpose, though there were a demonstration of its truth. 258 OF PERSONAL IDENTITY. DISE 1 DISSERTATION I. OF PERSONAL IDENTITY. Whether we are to live in a future state, as it is the most important question which can possibly be asked, so it is the most intelligible one which can be expressed in language. Yet strange perplexities have been raised about the meaning of that identity, or sameness of person, which is implied in the notion of our living now and hereafter, or in any two suc¬ cessive moments. And the solution of these difficulties hath been stranger than the difficulties themselves. For, personal identity has been explained so by some, as to render the in¬ quiry concerning a future life of no consequence at all to us, the persons who are making it. And though few men can be misled by such subtleties, yet it may be proper a little to consider them. Now, when it is asked wherein personal identity consists, the answer should be the same as if it were asked, wherein consists similitude or equality; that all attempts to define, would but perplex it. Yet there is no difficulty at all in as¬ certaining the idea. For as, upon two triangles being com¬ pared or viewed together, there arises to the mind the idea of similitude; or upon twice two and four, the idea of equality; so likewise, upon comparing the consciousness of one’s self, or one’s own existence in any two moments, there as immedi¬ ately arises to the mind the idea of personal identity. And as the two former comparisons not only give the idea of simili¬ tude and equalit}’-, but also shows us, that two triangles are like, and twice two and four are equal; so the latter compa¬ rison not only gives us the idea of personal identity, but also shows us the identity of ourselves in those two moments; the present, suppose, and that immediately past; or the present, and that a month, a year, or twenty years past. Or, m other words, by reflecting upon that which is myself now, DISS. I.] OF PERSONAL IDENTITY. 259 and that which was myself twenty years ago, 1 discern they are not two, but one and the same self. But though consciousness of what is past does thus ascer¬ tain our personal identity to ourselves, yet, to say that it makes personal identity, or is necessary to our being the same persons, is to say, that a person has not existed a single moment, nor done one action, but what he can remember; indeed none but what he reflects upon. And one should really think it self-e\fldent, that consciousness of personal identity presupposes, and therefore cannot constitute, per¬ sonal identity, any more than knowledge, in any other case, can constitute truth, which it presupposes. This wonderful mistake may possibly have arisen from hence, that to be endued with consciousness, is inseparable from the idea of a person, or intelligent being. For, this might be expressed inaccurately thus,—that consciousness makes personality; and from hence it might be concluded to make personal identity. But though present consciousness of what we at present do and feel, is necessary to our being the persons we now are; yet present consciousness of past actions, or feelings, is not necessary to our being the same persons who performed those actions, or had those feelings. The inquiry, what makes vegetables the same in the com¬ mon acceptation Of the word, does not appear to have any re lation to this Of personal identity; because the word same, when applied to them and to persons, is not only applied to different subjects, but it is also used in different senses. For when a man swears to the same tree, as having stood fifty years in the same place, he means only the same as to all the purposes of property and uses of common life, and not that the tree has been all that time the same in the strict philoso¬ phical sense of the word. For he does not know whether any one particle of the present tree be the same with any one particle of the tree which stood in the same place fifty years ago. And if they have not one common particle of matter, they cannot be the same tree, in the proper philosophic sense of the word same ; it being evidently a contradiction in terms, to say they are, when no part of their substance, and no one of their properties, is the same ; no part of their substance, by the supposition; no one of their properties, because it is al¬ lowed that the same property cannot be transferred from one substance to another. And therefore, when we say the ideri- tity or sameness of a plant consists in a continuation of the same life communicated under the same organization, to a 200 OF PERSONAL IDENTITY. [dISS. I. number of particles of matter, whether the same or not, the word same, when applied to life and to organization, cannot pos¬ sibly be understood to signify, what it signifies in this very sen¬ tence, when applied to matter. In a loose and popular sense, then, the life, and the organization, and the plant, are justly said to be the same, notwithstanding the perpetual change of the pai ts. But in a strict and philosophical manner of speech, no man, no being, no mode of being, nor any thing, can be the same with that, with which it hath indeed nothing the. same. Now, sameness is used in this latter sense when ap¬ plied to persons. The identity of these, therefore, cannot sub¬ sist with diversity of substance. The thing here considered, and demonstratively, as I think, determined, is proposed by Mr, Locke in these words. Whether it, i, e, the same self or person, be the same identical sub¬ stance 1 And he has suggested what is a much better an¬ swer to the question than that which he gives it in form. For he defines person, a thinking intelligent being, &c. and personal identity the sameness of a rational being* The question then is, whether the same rational being is the same substance ; which needs no answer, because being and sub¬ stance, in this place, stand for the same idea. The ground of the doubt, whether the same person be the same substance is said to be this ; that the consciousness of our own existence in youth and m old age, or in any two joint successive mo¬ ments, is not the same individual action,"f i. e, not the same consciousness, but different successive consciousnesses. Now it is strange that this should have occasioned such perplexi¬ ties. For it is surely conceivable, that a person may have a capacity of knowing some object or other to be the same now, which it was when he contemplated it formerly; yet, in this case, where, by the supposition, the object is percfcived to be the same, the perception of it in any two moments can¬ not be one and the same perception. And thus, though the successive consciousnesses which we have of our own exist¬ ence are not the same, yet are they consciousnesses of one and the same thing or object; of the same person, self, or living agent. The person, of whose existence the conscious¬ ness 's felt now, and was felt an hour or a year ago, is dis¬ cerned to be, not two persons, but one and the same person j and therefore is one and the same. Mr. Locke’s observations upon this subject appear hasty j * Locke’s Works, vol. i. p, 146. t Locke, p. 146, 147. D1S8. I.] OP PERSONAL IDENTITY. 261 and he seems to profess himself dissatisfied with suppositions, which he has made relating to it * But some, of those hasty observations have been carried to a strange length by others; whose notion, when traced and examined to the bottom, amounts, I think, to this if ‘ That personality is not a perma nent, but a transient thing: that it lives and dies, begins an.I ends, continually: that no one can any more remain one and the same person two moments together, than two successive moments can be one and the same moment: that our sub¬ stance is indeed continually changing; but whether this be so or not, is, it seems, nothing to the purpose ; since it is not substance, but consciousness alone, which constitutes person¬ ality ; which consciousness, being successive, cannot be the same in any two moments, nor consequently the personality constituted by it.’ And from hence it must follow, that it is a fallacy upon ourselves, to charge our present selves with any thing we did, or to imagine our present selves interested in any thing which befell us yesterday, or that our present self will be interested in what will befall us to-morrow; since our present self is not, in reality, the same with the self of yesterday, but another like self or person coming in its room, and mistaken for it; to which another self will succeed to¬ morrow. This, I say, must follow: for if the self or person of to-day, and that of to-morrow, are not the same, but only like persons, the person of to-day is really no more interested in what will befall the person of to-morrow, than in what will befall any other person. It may be thought, perhaps, that this is not a just representation of the opinion we are speaking of; because those who maintain it allow, that a person is the same as far back as his remembrance reaches. And, indeed, they do use the words, identity and same person. Nor will language permit these words to be laid aside: since if they were, there must be, I know not what, ridiculous periphrasis substituted in the room of them. But they cannot, consist¬ ently with themselves, mean, that the person is really the game. For it is self-evident, that the personality cannot be really the same, if, as they expressly assert, that in which it consists is not the same. And as, consistently with them¬ selves, they cannot, so, I think, it appears they do not, mean, that the person is really the same, but only that he is so in a fictitious sense ; in such a sense only as they assert; for this ♦ Locke, p. 152. t See an answer to Dr. Clarke’s third defence of his letter to Mr. Dodwell, 2d edit, p, 44, 56, &c. 262 OF PERSONAL IDENTITY. [diss. li they do assert, that any number of persons whatever may be the same person. The bare unfolding this notion, and laying it thus naked and open, seems the best confutation of it. However, since great stress is said 4o be put upon it, I add the following things: Firsts This notion is absolutely contradictory to that cer¬ tain conviction, which necessarily, and every moment, rises within us, when we turn our thoughts upon ourselves; when we reflect upon what is past, and look forward upon what is to come. All imagination of a daily change of that living agent which each man calls himself, for another, or of any such change throughout our whole present life, is entirely borne down by our natural sense of things. Nor is it possible for a person in his wits to alter his conduct, with regard to his health or affairs, from a suspicion, that though he should live to-morrow, he should not, however, be the same person he is to-day. And yet, if it be reasonable to act, with respect to a future life, upon this notion, that personality is transient • it is reasonable to act upon it, with respect to the present. Here then is a notion equally applicable to religion and to our temporal concerns ; and every one sees and feels the in¬ expressible absurdity of it in the latter case. If, therefore, any can take up with it in the former, this cannot proceed from the reason of the thing, but must be owing to an inward unfairness, and secret corruption of heart. Secondly^ It is not an idea, or abstract notion, or quality^ but a being only which is capable of life and action, of happi¬ ness and misery. Now all beings confessedly continue the same, during the whole time of their existence. Consider then a living being now existing, and which has existed for any time alive: this living being must have done and suf¬ fered and enjoyed, what it has done and suffered and enjoyed formerly, (this living being, I say, and not another,) as really as it does and suflers and enjoys, what it does and suffers and enjoys this instant. All these successive actions, enjoyments, and sufferings, are actions, enjoyments, and sufferings, of the same living being. And they are so, prior to all considera' tion of its remembering or forgetting; since remembering or forgetting can make no alteration in the truth of past matter of fact. And suppose this being endued with limited powers of knowledge and memory, there is no more difficulty in com ceiving it to have a power of knowing itself to be the same living being which it was some time ago, of remembering some of its actions, sufferings, and enjoyments, and forgetting DISS. I.] OP PERSONAL IDENTITY. 263 others, than in conceiving it to know, or remember, or forget any thing else. Thirdly^ Every person is conscious, that he is now the same person or seif he was, as far back as his remembrance reaches; since, when any one reflects upon a past action of his own, he is just as certain of the person who did that action, namely himself, the person who now reflects upon it, as he is certain that the action was at all done. Nay, very often a per¬ son’s assurance of an action having been done, of which he is absolutely assured, arises wholly from the consciousness that he himself did it. And this he, person, or self, must either be a substance, or the property of some substance. If he, if person, be a substance ; then consciousness that he is the same per¬ son, is consciousness that he is the same substance. If the person, or he, be the property of a substance ; still conscious¬ ness that he is the same property, is as certain a proof that his substance remains the same, as consciousness that he re mains the same substance would be; since the same property cannot be transferred from one substance to another. But though we are thus certain that we are the same agents, living beings, or substances, now, which we were as far back as our remembrance reaches; yet it is asked, whether we may not possibly be deceived in it ? And this question may be asked at the end of any demonstration whatever; be¬ cause it is a question concerning the truth of perception by memory. And he who can doubt, whether perception by memory can in this case be depended upon, may doubt also, whether perception by deduction and reasoning, which also include memory, or, indeed, whether intuitive perception can. Here then we ,can go no farther. For it is ridiculous to at¬ tempt to prove the truth of those perceptions, whose truth we can no otherwise prove, than by other perceptions of exactly the same kind with them, and which there is just the same ground to suspect; or to atterflpt to prove the truth of our fa¬ culties, which can no otherwise be proved, than by the use or means of those very suspected faculties themselves. 2G4 OP THE NATURE OP VIRTUE. [dISS, II. DISSERTATION II. OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. That which renders beings capable of moral government^ is their having a moral nature, and moral faculties of percep¬ tion and of action. Brute creatures are impressed and actu¬ ated by various instincts and propensions: so also are we. But, additional to this, we have a capacity of reflecting upon actions and characters, and making them an object to our thoughts ; and on doing this, we naturally and unavoidably approve some actions, under the peculiar view of their being virtuous and of good desert; and disapprove others, as vicious and of ill desert. That we Jbave this moral approving and disapproving* faculty, is certain from our experiencing it in ourselves, and recognismg it in each other. It appears from our exercising it unavoidably, in the approbation and disap¬ probation even of feigned ‘ characters: from the words, right and wrong, odious and arniable, base and worthy, with many others of like signification in all languages, applied to actions and characters; from the many written systems of morals which suppose it; since it cannot be imagined, that all these authors, throughout all these treatises, had absolutely no meaning at all to their words, or a meaning merely chimeri- + This way of speaking is taken from Epictetus,! is made use of as seeming the most full, and least liable to cavil. And the moral fa¬ culty may be understood to have these two epithets, loxifiatrTiKT} and airoSoKifjiaaTiKxi, upon a double account; because, upon a survey of ac¬ tions, whether before or after they are done, it determines them to be good or evil; and also because it determines itself to be the guide of ac¬ tion and of life, in contradistinction from all other faculties, or natural prin¬ ciples of action : in the very same manner, as speculative reason directly and naturally judges of speculative truth and falsehood ; and, at the same time, is attended with a consciousness upon reflection, that the natural right to judge of them belongs to it. t Arr. Epict. lib. i. cap. 1. OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. 265 DISS. 11.] cal: from our natural sense of gratitude, whic-h implies a dis¬ tinction between merely being the instrument of good, and intending it: from the like distinction, every one makes, be¬ tween injury and mere harm, which Hobbes says, is peculiar to mankind; and between injury and just punishment, a dis¬ tinction plainly natural, prior to the consideration of human laws. It is manifest, great part of common language, and of common behaviour over the world, is formed upon supposition of such a moral faculty; whether called conscience, moral reason, moral sense, or divine reason; whether considered as a sentiment of the understanding, or as a perception of the heart, or, which seems the truth, as including both. Nor is it at all doubtful in the general, what course of action this faculty, or practical discerning power within us, approves, and what it disapproves. For, as much as it has been dis¬ puted wherein virtue consists, or whatever ground for doubt there may be about particulars, yet, in general, there is in reality a universally acknowledged standard of it. It is that, which all ages and all countries have made profession of in public; it is that, which every man you meet, puts on the show of; it is that, which the primary and fundamental laws of all civil constitutions, over the face of the earth, make it their business and endeavour to enforce the practice of upon mankind ; namely, justice, veracity, and regard to common good. It being manifest then, in general, that we have such a faculty or discernment as this, it may be of use to remark some things, more distinctly concerning it. Firstj It ought to be observed, that the object of this fa culty is actions,* comprehending under that name, active or practical principles ; those principles from which men would act, if occasions and circumstances gave them power; and which, when fixed and habitual in any person, we call, his character. It does not appear, that brutes have the least reflex sense of actions, as distinguished from events ; or that will and design, which constitute the very nature of actions as such, are at all an object to their perception. But to ours they are; and they are the object, and the only one, of the approving and disapproving faculty. Acting, conduct, be¬ haviour, abstracted from all resrard to what is, in fact and event, the consequence of it, is itself the natural object of the moral discernment, as speculative truth and falsehood is of * ovSe ^ aprjTt] Kai KUKia — zv vcktzi, aWa zvzpyzia. M. Anton. 1. 9, 16. Vlrtutis laus omnis in actione consislit. Cic. Off. I. 1. c. 6. 12 266 or THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. DISS. II. speculative reason. Intention of such and such consequences, indeed, is always included ; for it is part of the action itself: but though the intended good or bad consequences do not follow, we have exactly the same sense of the action as if they did. In like manner, we think well or ill of characters, abst racted from all consideration of the good or the evil, which persons of such characters have it actually in their power to do. We never, in the moral way, applaud or blame either ourselves or others, for what we enjoy or what we suffer, or for having impressions made upon us which we consider as altogether out of our power; but only for what we do, or would have done, had it been in our power; or for what we leave undone which we might have done, or would have left undone though we could have done it. Secondly, Our sense or discernment of actions, as morally good or evil, implies in it a sense or discernment of them as of good or ill desert. It may be difficult to explain this'percep¬ tion, so as to answer all the questions which may be asked concerning it; but every one speaks of such and such actions as deserving punishment; and it is not, I suppose, pretended, that they have absolutely no meaning at all to the expres¬ sion. Now, the meaning plainly is, not that we conceive it for the good of society, that the doer of such actions, should be made to suffer. For if unhappily it were resolved, that a man who, by some innocent action was infected with the plague, should be left to perish, lest, by other people coming near him, the infection should spread; no one would say, he deserved this treatment. Innocence and ill desert are incon¬ sistent ideas. Ill desert always supposes guilt; and if one be not part of the other, yet they are evidently and naturally connected in our mind. The sight of a man in misery raises our compassion towards him ; and, if this misery be inflicted on him by another, our indignation against the author of it. But when we are informed, that the sufferer is a villain, and is punished only for his treachery or cruelty ; our compassion exceedingly lessens, and, in many instances, our indignation wholly subsides. Now, what produces this effect, is the con¬ ception of that in the sufferer, wffiich we call ill desert. Upon considering then, or viewing together, our notion of vice and ffiat of misery, there results a third, that of ill desert. And thus there is in human creatures an association of the two ideas, natural and moral evil, wickedness and punishment. If this association were merely artificial or accidental, it were nothing; but being most unquestionably natural, it greatlv DiSS. II.] tfF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. 28V concerns us to attend to it, instead of endeavoiing to explain it away. It may be observed farther, concerning our perception of good and of ill desert, that the former is very weak with respect to common instances of virtue. One reason of which may be, that it does not appear to a spectator, how far such instances of virtue proceed from a virtuous principle, or in what degree this principle is prevalent; since a very we^k regard to virtue may be sufficient to make men act well in many common instances. And on the other hand, our per¬ ception of ill desert in vicious actions lessens, in proportion to the temptations men are thoughtr to have had to such vices. For, vice in human creatures consisting chiefly in the absence or want of the virtuous principle, though a man be overcome, suppose, by tortures, it does not from thence appear, to what degree the virtuous principle was wanting. All that appears, is that he had it not in such a degree, as to prevail over the temptation ; but possibly he had it in a degree, which would have rendered him proof against common temptations. Thu'dly, Our perception of vice and ill deserts arises from, and is the result of, a comparison of actions with the nature and capacities of the agent. For, the mere neglect of doing what we ought to do, would, in many cases, be determined by all men to be in the highest degree vicious. And this deter¬ mination must arise from such comparison, and be the result of it; because such neglect would not be vicious in creatures of other natures and capacities, as brutes. And it is the same also with respect to positive vices, or such as consist in doing what we ought not. For, every one has a different sense of harm done by an idiot, madman, or child, and by one of mature and common understanding ; though the action of both, including the intention, which is part of the action, be the same : as it may be, since idiots and madmen, as well as children, are capable, not only of doing mischief, but also of intending it. Now, this difference must arise from somewhat discerned in the nature or capacities of one, which renders the action vicious ; and the want of which in the other, renders the same action innocent, or less vicious : and this plainly supposes a comparison, whether reflected upon or not, between the action and capacities of the agent, previous to our deter¬ mining an action to be vicious. And hence arises a proper application of the epithets, incongruous, unsuitable, dispro- porlinnate, unfit, to actions which our moral faculty determines to be vicious. 268 OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. [diss. II* Fourthly, It deserves to be considered, whether men are more at liberty, in point of morals, to make themselves misera¬ ble without reason, than to make other people so; or disso¬ lutely to neglect their own greater good, for the sake of a present lesser gratification, than they are to neglect the good of others, whom nature has committed to their care. It should seem, that a due concern about our own interest or happiness, and a reasonable endeavor to secure and promote it, which is, I think, very much the meaning of the word prudence in our language ; it should seem, that this is virtue, and the contrary behaviour faulty and blameable: since, in the calmest way of reflection, we approve of the first, and condemn the other conduct, both in ourselves and others. This approbation and disapprobation are altogether different from mere desire of our own, or of their happiness, and from sorrow upon missing it. For the object or occasion of this last kind of perception, is satisfaction or uneasiness ;• whereas the object of the first is active behaviour. In one case, what our thoughts fix upon is our condition ; in the other, our con¬ duct. It is true, indeed, that nature has not given us so sen¬ sible a disapprobation of imprudence and folly, either in our¬ selves or others, as of falsehood, injustice, and cruelty; I suppose, because that constant habitual sense of private inte¬ rest and good, which we always carry about with us, renders such sensible disapprobation less necessary, less wanting, to keep us from imprudently neglecting our own happiness, and foolishly injuring ourselves, than it is necessary and wanting to keep us from injuring others, to whose good we cannot have so strong and constant a regard; and also, because impru¬ dence and folly, appearing to bring its own punishment, more immediately and constantly than injurious behaviour, it less needs the additional punishment which would be inflicted upon it by others, had they the same sensible indignation against it. as against injustice, and fraud, and cruelty. Besides, unhap¬ piness being in itself the natural object of compassion, the unhappiness which people bring upon themselves, though it be wilfully, excites in us some pity for them ; and this, of ourse, lessens our displeasure against them. But still it is matter of experience, that we are formed so as to reflect very severely upon the greater instances of imprudent' neglect and foolish rashness, both in ourselves and others. In instances of this kind, men often say of themselves with remorse, and of others with some indignation, that they deserve to suffer such calamities, because they brought them upon themselves DISS. II.] OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. 269 a.nd would not take warning'. Particularly when persons come to poverty and distress by a long course oi‘ extrava¬ gance, and after frequent admonitions, though without false¬ hood or injustice; we plainly do not regard such people as like objects of compassion, with those who are brought into the same condition by unavoidable accidents. From these things it appears, that prudence is a species of virtue, and folly of vice : meaning hy folly, somewhat quite different from mere incapacity; a thoughtless want of that regard and attention to our own happiness, which we had capacity for. And this the word properly includes, and, as it seems, in its usual acceptation ; for we scarce apply it to brute creatures. However, if any person be disposed to dispute the matter, I shall very willingly give him up the words virtue and vice, as not applicable to prudence and folly; but must beg leave to insist, that the faculty within us, which is the judge of ac¬ tions, approves of prudent actions and disapproves imprudent ones ; I say, prudent and imprudent actions as such, and con¬ sidered distinctly from the happiness or misery which they occasion. And by the way, this observation may help to determine, what justness there is in that objection against re¬ ligion, that it teaches us to be interested and selfish. Fifthly, Without inquiring how far, and in what sense, virtue is resolvable into benevolence, and vice into the want of it; it may be proper to observe, that benevolence, and the want of it, singly considered, are in no sort the whole of virtue and vice. Fgi if this were the case, in the review of one’s own character, or that of others, our moral understanding and moral sense would be indifferent to every thing, but the degrees in which benevolence prevailed, and the degrees in which it was wanting. _ That is, we should never approve of benevolence to some persons rather than to others, nor disap¬ prove injustice and falsehood upon any other account, than merely as an overbalance of happiness was foreseen likely to be produced by the first, and of misery by the second. But now, on the contrary, suppose two men competitors for any thing whatever, which would be of equal advantage to each of them ; though nothing indeed would be more impertinent, than for a stranger to busy himself to get one of them prefer¬ red to the other ; yet such endeavor would be 'cirtne, in behalf of a friend or benefactor, abstracted from all consideration of distant consequences: as that example of gratitude, and the cultivation of friendship, would be of general good to the world. Again, suppose one man should, by fraud or violence 270 OF THE NATURE OP VIRTUE. [dI8S. H. take from another the fruit of his labor with intent to give it to a third, who, he thought, would have as much pleasure from it as would balance the pleasure which the first possessor would have had in the enjoyment, and his vexation in the loss of it: suppose also, that no bad consequences would follow ; yet such an action would surely be vicious. Nay, farther, were treachery, violence, and injustice, no otherwise vicious, than as foreseen likely to produce an overbalance of misery to society ; then, if in any case a man could procure to himself as great advantage by an act of injustice, as the whole fore¬ seen inconvenience, likely to be brought upon others by it, would amount to, such a piece of injustice would not be faulty or vicious at all; because it would be no more than, in any other case, for a man to prefer his own satisfaction to another’s in equal degrees. The fact then appears to be, that we are constituted so as to condemn falsehood, unprovoked violence, injustice, and to approve of benevolence to some preferably to others, abstracted from all consideration which conduct is likeliest to produce an overbalance of happiness or misery. And therefore, were the author of nature to propose nothing to himself a,s an end but the production of happiness, were his moral character merely that of benevolence; yet ours is not so. Upon that supposition, indeed, the only reason of his giving us the above-mentioned approbation of benevolence to some persons rather than to others, and disapprobation of falsehood, unprovoked violence, and injustice, must be, that he foresaw this constitution of our nature would produce more happiness, than forming us "with a temper of mere general benevolence. But still, since this is our constitution, false¬ hood, violence, injustice, must be vice in us, and benevolence to some preferably to others, virtue, abstracted from all consi¬ deration of the overbalance of evil or good which they may appear likely to produce. Now, if human creatures are endued with such a moral nature as we have been explaining, or with a moral facultjq the natural object of which is actions ; moral government must consist in rendering them happy and unhappy, in rewarding and punishing them, as they follow, neglect, or depart from, the moral rule of action interwoven in their nature, or suggested and enforced by this moral faculty in rewarding and punishing them upon account of their so doing. I am not sensible that I have, in this fifth observation, con^ tradicted what any author designed to assert. But some of * Part ii. Chap. 6. DISS. II.] OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. great and distinguished merit have, I think, expressed them¬ selves in a manner, which maj occasion some danger to care¬ less readers, of imagining the whole of virtue to consist in singly aiming, according to the best of their judgment, at promoting the happiness of mankind in the present state ; and the whole of vice, in doing what they foresee, or might foresee,- is likely to produce an overbalance of unhappiness ip It; than which mistakes, none can be conceived more terrible. For it is certain, that some of the most shocking instances ol .njustice, adultery, murder, perjury, and even of persecution, may, in many supposable cases, not have the appearance of being likely to produce an overbalance of misery in the pre¬ sent state ; perhaps sometimes may have the contrary appear¬ ance. For this reflection might easily be carried on ; but 1 forbear.—:—The happiness of the world is the concern of Him, who is the Lord and the proprietor of it; nor do we know what we are about, when we endeavor to promote the good of mankind ip any ways but those which he has direct¬ ed ; that is, indeed, in all ways not contrary to veracity and justice. I speak thus upon supposition of persons really endeavoring, in some sort, to do good without regard to these. But the truth seems to be, that such supposed endeavors pro¬ ceed, almost always, from ambition, the spirit of party, or some indirect principle, concealed perhaps in great measure from persons themselves. And though it is our business and our duty to endeavor, within the bounds of veracity and jus¬ tice, to contribute to the ease, convenience, and even cheerful- noss and diversion of our fellow-creatures; j^et, from our short views, it is greatly uncertain whether this endeavor will, in particular instances, produce an overbalance of happiness upon the whole ; since so many and distant things must come into the account. And that which makes it our duty, is, that there is some appearance that it will, and no positive appear¬ ance sufficient to balance this, on the contrary side ; and also, that such benevolent endeavor is a cultivation of that most excellent of all virtuous principles, the active principle of be¬ nevolence. However, though veracity, as -well as justice, is to be our rule of life, it must be added, otherwise a snare will be laid in •he way of some plain men, that the use of common forms of speech generally understood, cannot be falsehood; and, in general, that there can be no designed falsehood without de¬ signing to deceive. It must likewise be observed, that, in numberless cases, a man may be under the strictest obligations 272 OV THC NATURE OP VIRTUE. [OISS. II. to what he foresees will deceive, without his intending it. For It IS impossible not to foresee, that the words and actions of men in different ranks and employments, and of different edu¬ cations, will perpetually be mistaken by each other; and it cannot but be so, whilst they will judge vuth the utmost care¬ lessness, as they daily do, of what they are not, perhaps, enough informed to be competent judges ofj even though they considered it with great attention. r < QUESTIONS > " FOR THE_ EXAMINATION OP STUDENTS ON BUTLER’S ANALOGY OP NATURAL AND REVEALED RELIGION. \ INTRODUCTION. 1. Distinction between 'probable and demonstrative evidence. 2. Why cannot we say, upon one slight presumption, that a thing is probably true ? 3. Still, how is it shown, that the slightest possible presump¬ tion partakes of the nature of probability ? 4. How is that which constitutes probability expressed? and why ? 5. What is the use of probability in the discussion of (piestions where more satisfactory evidence cannot be had ? 6. Do men, generally speaking, consider the analogical method of reasoning just, natural, and conclusive ? For example; 7. To what conclusion, from analogy, did Origen come, as to the objections urged against the Scriptures ? and what does the author say ir} addition ? 8. How does the author propose to apply the principles of anal¬ ogy to the doctrines of natural and revealed religion ? 9. Why does he select this mode of reasoning ? 10. What is the legitimate tendency of dreamy speculations as to how the world might possibly have beeij framed otherwise than it is ? 11. What do such extravagant and foolish trains of conclusions show, as to such speculations? 12. How do they show this? 13. Instead, thereftre, of this idle and not very innocent way of forming imaginary models oDa world, how ought we to study the natural and moral constitution of the world ? 14. What is said of the analogy here to be considei’ed ? 15. State what the Divine government of the world, as implied in the notion of religion in general, and of Christianity, com¬ prehends ? 16. Now, what is the design of the following treatise ? 12 * 274 QUESTIONS. PART I. ■> CHAPTER I. 1. Difficulties concerning personal identity. Personal identity a complex term. Its constituents. 2. What is the object of this chapter? 3. What general law in our species obtains, and which affords a high presumption in favor of a future life ? 4. Does this law hold good in other races of animated life ? 5. What is the conclusion from this law of nature ? 6. What is a law of nature ? What is consciousness ? 7. Of what is the fact, that we have capacities of pleasure or pain before death, a presumption ? and why ? 8. What is meant by faith in the order of nature ? 9. Why do we believe the course of the world will be as it always has been ? 10. Suppose men knew that death was not the destruction of the faculties of action and perception' would they fear any other power or event would be ? Why not ? 11. Now then, from what two causes only can we have appre¬ hensions that death is the destruction of our living^powers ? 12. There can be no apprehension J'rom the reason of the thing: Why not ? 13. Do we know on what the play of the living powers depends ? 14. How do you show these powers may exist when they are not exercised ? 15. Hence, since we do not know on what the play of the living powers depends, and since we do know these powers may be suspended ; may exist when there is no present capa¬ city for exercising them, what is our conclusion as to this apprehension from the reason of the thing 1 16. Can there be any apprehension from the analogy of nature that death is the destruction of living powers ? Prove this. 17. In fact, of what is our knowing that animals had these pow¬ ers up to the very period of the event we call death, a pre¬ sumption ? ] 8. By what facts from analogy is this confirmed ? 19. AWiat is the hypothesis, on which all presumption that death is the destruction of living beings, founded? 20. What is the argument, from consciousness, for the oneness and indivisibility of the, living agent-^the I, that which thinks, wills, acts ? 21. State the hypothesis offered to prove the unity of the living agent. • ^2. What is the deduction from this ? quESTioNS- 27s 23. Now then, if the living being each calls I, is a single being, and indivisible, what follows as to our organized bodies? 24. It is replied ; It is inconceivable how matter which is no part of us, may be appropriated to us as our present bodies are, How do you meet this objection ? 25. Now, what is the conclusion from all this ? 26. State some of the facts which prove the absolute oneness of the living agent. 27. Now, what do these facts teach? 28. The atomic elements of matter incapable of being dissolved by any natural power, 29. Now, what follows from the fact that we are sometimes closely related to, and interested in, certain systems of matter, as the flesh and bones, and then cease to be at all related to them, the living agents, ourselves, being all the while the same—undestroyed and entire ? 30. But it may be said the cases are not parallel; for the aliena¬ tion in'the one ease is gradual, and in the other more at once : how do you answer the objection ? 31. After all, what does the relation which a person bears to those parts of his body to which he is most nearly related, appa¬ rently amount ? 32. How may the same be shown from a consideration of the body, as consisting of organs of motion and perception ? 83. Of wflat are all instruments for assisting the reach and strength of vision and hearing, illustrations, when taken in connec¬ tion with this discussion ? 34. How then may both the eye and the optical instrument be regarded ? and what is the conclusion from this ? 35. Is it meant that the whole apparatus of vision or of perception can be traced up to the living power of seeing and perceiv¬ ing ? What then ? 36. By what other way is it shown that the organs of sense are not percipients ? 37. How may the same be shown by our power of moving, or directing motion by the will and choice ? 38. Does the power, then, of moving or directing themselves re^* side in the limbs ? 39. How may the same, vi^., the mind’s independency of the body, be shown by the determinations of the will ? 40. Now, what is the conclusion from the foregoing? 41. It is objected, that these observations are equally applicable to brutes, making them immortal, and capable of everlasting happiness : how do you answer the objection ? 42. Does the natural immortality of brutes imply that they are endowed with any latent capacities of a rational or moral nature ? 43. In what are the difficulties as to how brutes shall be disposed of founded ? and to what does this objection amount ? 44 . What follows from the fact that our present powers of reason, 276 QU^STI0^'3. imagination, and memor}'-, do not depend on our material body, as perception does on our organs of sense ? 45. What are the two states of life and perception in which hu¬ man creatures at present exist ? 46. Now, how do you show that nothing dissolvable by death is necessary to the living being after ideas are gained ? 47. What other facts show that the relation of' this gross body to the reflecting being is apparently no way necessary to thinking ; nor to our intellectual enjoyments and sufferings : and that there seems to be no reason to conclude that its dissolution or alienation by death will be the destruction of the rational and perceptive powers ? 48. How is it shown that death, instead of being the discontinu¬ ance of these powers, may be but another birth, the begin¬ ning of another life, and which is but the continuation of the present, as the present is so of that antecedent to birth ? 49. What are the grounds for believing that death may but serve to introduce us to a higher and more enlarged state of life ? 50. Were we certain that death would suspend all our active and perceptive powers, would that proveJt destroys them ? 51. But may it not be argued that the decay of vegetables and living beings is analogous, and hence a presumption that death is their destruction ? 52. What then is the conclusion at which we arrive on this ques^ lion, when we confine ourselves to facts; to the analogies of things which we know, and understand ? 5.3. What is the presumption as to the character of the new state after the event we call death, and how may its advantages be bestowed ? 64. What is the meaning of tl^e term natural? What follows from this ? 65. Recapitulate the arguments to show that death is not the destruction of living agents :—That it is not the destruction of their present powers of reflection; and that suspension of these powers is not their destruction ? CHAPTER II. 1. What is the subiect of the second chapter qf Butler’s Anal- 2. Wliy is the cjuestion about a future life so impressive and solemn ? 3. What is it that makes it particularl}’’ so? 4. Apart from this consideration, would the subject be one of much interest ? 5. Now, if there be, from analogy, ground to suppose our future interests connected with our present behavior, is there not QUESTIONS. 2 7 7 Reason for tho most active and earnest solicitude to secure those interests ? * 6. What is the fact as to our happiness or suffering in the pres¬ ent state 1 " ^ . 7. How do you show this? 8. Are all our sufferings^ hoWeVef, owing to our own follies ? 9. Answer the question, why the Author of nature does not make j his creatures happy without the instrumentality of their own actions, and so prevent their bringing suffering on themselves? 10. What is the language of universal experience on this sub¬ ject ? 11. What is meant when it is said, all this is to be ascribed to the course of nature ? 12. What is^meant by the assertion that good and bad consS* quences are the appointments of the Author of nature ? 13. What general fact shows that we are under a government of rewards and punishments ? 14. What is the proper formal notion of siich a govern¬ ment ? 15. Is it material to the argument, in any Way, whether the plea¬ sure or pain, which thus follows upon our behavior, be owing to the inimediaie action of the Creator, or part (if tile great plan of things ? Why hot ? 16. How is it shown from the doctrine of final causes we are un¬ der such a govemment ? 17. What is the true conception of the government which the Author of nature exercises over us ? 18. What is oUr'cencltlsion then from the analogy of nature as to this government'? MEN CIIIEFLr object TO DIVINE TUNfSHMENT. 19. What circumstances are there in the natural course of purt-* ishments now^ analogous to what religion teaches Concern¬ ing a future state of punishment? 20. What facts connected with.these punishments particularly de¬ serve attention ? ' ' " 21. For example? 22. Example from habits contracted in early life?^ 23i HoW is it shown that the natural course of things aff Uds op¬ portunities for procuring advantages we cannot procure when We please^ nor even recall bjiportunities we have neg- hcted 7 24. How may the same principle be illustrated by what obtains in courses of folly and extravagance ? 25. And furthermore, do not neglects from iiiconsiderateness— want of attention, not looking about us, to see what we have to do, often bring dreadful consequences, as much so as active misbehavior ? 278 QUESTIONS. 26. What is the fact as to civil governments, are their punish¬ ments also nathral i 27. Now show how these civil pUnishments are analogous to what religion teaches concerning the future punishment of the wicked ? 28. Quote the Scripture passages in proof of this, and draw the conclusion ? 29. In fact, on a sober review of the proofs of a future state of rewards and punishments, what circumstances do give to the mind its most impressive apj)rehensions of punish- ^ ment i 30. Does Butler mean to say, that men are punished uniformly here, according to their misbehavior? 31. What are the closing reflections of the chapter? 32. Recapitulate the argument showing that we are under tliC government of God by rewards and punishments ? . ' 'chapter iil 1. Of what does the third chapter of Butler’s Analogy treat? 2. What do the manifold appearances of design and of final causes in the constitution of the world prove ? 8. What do the particular final causes of the distribution of pleasure and pain among human beings pro^■e ? 4. Does this alone prove that the government of the world is a moral govemment ? 5. What is the right idea of a moral government ? 6. In what does the perfection of moral government consist ? 7. What is the opinion some entertain of the moral character of the Author of nature? 8. What is meant by simple, absolute benevolence ? 9. And what Would the attributes of Veracity and jtistice be on this supposition ? What does Biitler say of this opinion ? 10. May there not be beings in the universe to whom the Author of nature does manifest himself as infinite absolute benev¬ olence ? ’ . 11. Is that the question here? 12. Is the government of the present state, taken, alone, the per¬ fection of moral government ? Is there nothing in it then, truly moral ? 13. What is the object of this third chapter? 14. For example: what might be mentioned as an impressive in¬ stance of moral government established in nature? 15. Is this, however, a fact? Are there no exceptions to the hap¬ piness of virtue : Is virtue, on the whole, happier than vice in the present world ? 16. Is there any difficulty as to the question whether God governs QUESTIONf<* 219 the wofld by rewards and punishments according to set¬ tled rules of distribution'? 17. What is the difficulty then ? 18. Now then, this is the teaching of religion; does it, however, harmonize with the analogy of things? 19. What facts show that the world is governed by fixed general laws—that happiness and misery result from, or are in¬ stances of a right constitution of nature ? 20. What facts more plainly prove the same, viz., that we arc under some sort of moral gON^ernment ? 21. What is the voice of nature as to vicious actions ? 22. Why should the vices of falsehood, injustice, and cruelty be punished ? 23. Now what follows from the fact that society punishes' such vices,"and sometimes rewards virtues'? 24. Hchv do you answer the objection that good actions are often punished as in the case of persecution, and ill actions are often rewarded'? 25. What is the legitimate conclusion from this ? 26. Of what then is the fact that virtue, as such, is rewarded, and vice, as such, is punished in the natural course of things, a proof'? 27. What distinction is necessary to be made, so as to see this clearly 1 28. Why is this distinction necessary ? 29. How do you illustrate this distinction between the action and the morality of the action ? 30. Now what proves that virtue, as such, procures advantages^ and that vice, as such, occasions great inconveniences ? 31. How is this argument strengthened by the behavior of all honest and good men, towards honest and good men, as sach^ 32. Does this obtain in the affairs of life generally: do even men who have little love of virtue themselves reverence it in others ? 33. For example: What similar illustration maybe given from the great revolutions that figure in history ? 34. In fact, on what are all correct ideas of retaliation and re¬ sentment, or of gratitude, and a disposition to return good offices founded ? 35. What instances have we in domestic government illustrative of the same fact ? 36. How do you show that, though civil governments punish actions only, because they are prejudicial to society, and without regard to their immorality, yet the sense of the immorality of such actions is, in some degree, felt by all ? 37. On the whole then, what does the sense of well-doing; pre¬ sages of conscience, love of good characters and dislike of bad characters; honor, shame, &c., in themselves, con¬ sidered, and in their effects show ? 280 Qt'r:sTio>:s. 38. Indeed, of wliat may the fact, that we are endowed with a moral nature, be regarded as a proof? 39. Taken together, what do these two facts prove? 40. But let Us ask more minutely, why virtue as siich, and vice US such, are rewarded and punished invariably ? 41. What two facts prove this satisfactorily ? 42. Is there any such thing as vice being approbated as such ? 43. What is the conclusion from this ? 44. Is this a fact: is it a truth of daily experience ? 45. In what other way may personal merit and demerit, happi¬ ness and miseryj be distributed in the natural course ol things ? 46. If the world be governed by general laws, must not the right¬ eous sometimes suffer, and The vicious sometimes be re¬ warded ? 47. Does this, however, shake our faith, that God is on the side of virtue and opposed to vice ? 48. Why not ? 49. Can it be said, that since virtuous actions are sometimes pun¬ ished, and vicious actions sometimes rewarded, that nature intended it to be so ? 50. Why not ? 51. To what then does this declaration, that nature is on the side of virtue and opposed to vice, amount ? 52. Now, how far may every man be said to be on the side of the Divine administration, and what is the result on the man’s moral hopes ? 55. By what is this sehse of security and hope of something further still, b}^ the doer of the right, confirmed ? 54. How do you show these tendencies are such, that good men ought to be rewarded, and bad men punished more as such^ than they are ? 55. It is acknowledged these tendencies are obvious as to individ¬ uals: but is -it equally obvious, that power in a society controlled by vii’tue, naturally increases and necessarily tends to prevail oVer power not Under the direction of virtue ? 56. What is the supposition to illustrate the principle, that length of time, and proper scope for reason to exert itself; may be absolutely necessary for Tower though joined with reason, to prevail over opposite power thoUgh merely brutal ? 57. Further still, are there not instances, in which brutes, owing to their incapability of foreseeing the dangers of certain at¬ tempts, have succeeded in these attempts, and instances of reason and real prudence preventing men’s-undertaking what they might have succeeded in by a lucky rashness ? 68. Nay, may there not be some globes where possibly the irra¬ tional have the superiority over the rational animals ? 69. Now suppose the rational animals of such globes wholly B.P variance, envious, treacherous, unjust, utterly disunited. QUESTIONS. 281 while the irrational were firmly united by interest, what would be the opinion one would likely form of the origin of this state of things ? 60. What is the analogy then as to the power of virtue in a so¬ ciety ? 61. How does this tendency of the power of virtue in a society manifest itself? 62. Now suppose the invisible world and its dispensations anal¬ ogous to the present, or that both are parts of one great plan, what is the deduction as to this tendency of reason, under the direction of virtue, to prevail ? 63. But are there no requisites for this ; what may be necessary that yirtue may actually produce what it has a tendency to produce ? 64. What is the Author’s opinion as to the proportion between the good and the bad, even here on earth, and the relative natural power of the good ? 65. What are the hinderances which prevent the union of good men over the earth, in opposition to force not under the control of virtue ? 66. How may the condition of virtue here, very properly be rep¬ resented, and particularly so as to its ultimate triumph? 67. If then the soul be naturally immortal: if this state be but a stage in our progress onward, whatsis the presumption as to this union of all good men, as well as other orders of vir¬ tuous beings, on the side of right and goodness in that fu¬ ture state ? 68. Now suppose this tendency fully carried out in one or more orders of beings in any distant scenes and periods, what ef¬ fect might it have on the orders of the vicious if seen by them, even throughout the universal kingdom of God? 69. For what purposes are these suppositions mentioned, since they are not offered as a literal exhibition of what is in fact the particular scheme of the universe ? 70. Of what may all the advantageous tendencies of virtue be considered ? ' 71. Repeat the hypothesis as to the effects and influence of a kingdom or society of men, perfectly virtuous for a suc¬ cession of many ages, on itself and on other nations ? 72. Does this harmonize with the general system of religion ? 73. It may be objected, that notwithstanding all these tendencies of virtue, things may be going on throughout the universe, and may go on hereafter in the same mixed way as on the earth at present: What is your answer ? 74. What four reasons has Butler given in addition to the fore¬ going, to show the ultimate triumph of virtue ? 75. Upon the whole then, what is the conclusion as to the notion of a scheme of moral government, and of its ultimate pro¬ gress towards absolute perfection ? 282 QUESTIONS. CHAPTER IV. 1. What is the subject of this chapter 1 2. What is meant by our present life being a state of probation for a future life ? 3. Is not this equivalent to saying we are under the moral gov¬ ernment of God, and are to give to Him an account of our actions ? 4. State the difference between the terms probation ^and moral government ? 5. What does the moral government of God, which religion teaches us, imply ? What does his natural government imply ? 6. In what does the natural government here meant consist, and what does it imply ? 7. What facts show, that in our natural or temporal capacity, we are in a state of trial: that is, of difficulty and danger, analogous to our moral and religious trial ? 8. What is it that constitutes this our trial in our natural and moral capacities ? 9. How is this illustrated ? 10. What is the deducible therefore, as to particular habits and passions in connection with moral behavior ? 11. Further, how is it shown we are in a like state of trial, as to both our present and future good, by the very same pas¬ sions excited by the very same means ? 12. What is the conclusion ? 13. As a general thing, how does the consideration of this state of trial, in their temporal and religious capacity, affect the behavior of mankind ? 14. What is the parallel instituted as to the difficulties and dan¬ gers of miscarrying, failing in our religious and temporal interests from the ill behavior of others ? 15. What are some of those dangers of failure arising out of personal misconduct, wrong behavior putting us in a more disadvantageous state of trial in our temporal ca¬ pacity ? 1 6. Does it seem as if mankind were in the most advantageous state naturally, or morally, for securing their present and fu¬ ture interests ? 17. Does, after all, this low, careful and uncertain condition, afford just ground of complaint ? 18. What renders the state of trial, religion teaches us we are in, credible ? 19. What are the circumstances supposed, which if true, might form a presumption against the representation religion makes of our future and more general interests, depending on behavior and self-government ? 20. If this then were our natural condition, what would be the QUESTIONS. 283 course of our reasonings as to the state of our luture being ? 21. But, what is the fact as to our happiness and security in the present state ? 22. How do you answer the specious'objection, It is impossible the Infinite Being should put upon us hazard and danger, which he foreknew must, from our very nature, end in error and misery. 23. To what are these observations an answer, and what do they show ? 24. Give a summary of the chapter? CHAPTER V. 1. What question naturally arises from the consideration of our being in a state of probation—one of so much difficulty and hazard ? ’ 2. What are some of the insuperable difficulties in which such a general inquiry as this is involved ? 3. What partial answer may be given to the question ? 4. There is another inquiry, however, lying side by side with this, of far higher and more pressing importance : What is it ? 5. How is this question answered ; What is the known end of this state of hazard, affliction, and difficulty in which we are placed ? 6. Now, what is there analogous, in the beginning of life, con¬ sidered as an education for mature age in the present world, to this our trial for a future one ? 7. How is it shown there must be some necessary character and qualifications, without which persons cannot but be utterly incapable of happiness here or hereafter ? 8. What is the constitution of human creatures, and indeed of all creatures we are acquainted with, as to capacities for states of life, for enlargement, for acquirements of experi¬ ence and habits ? 9. How is this illustrated by our own moral and intellectual capacities. 10. How is this still further illustrated by the law of habit ? 11. What is habit ? What are some of its laws ? 12. Now, on what must all mental habits be fonned? 13. Resolutions to do well are virtuous acts: endeavoring to en¬ force on our own, or on the minds of others, a practical sense of virtue, are virtuous acts: how are they to be con¬ verted into habits of active goodness? 14. Will mere going over the theory of virtue in one’s thoughts: . talking well of it, and drawing fine pictures of it, necessa¬ rily, or certainly, form virtuous habits ? 15. According to what law of habit does this take place 1 284 QUESTIO^■S. 16. Now, what follows from the fact, that practical habits are formed by repeated acts, and that passive impressions grow weaker by repetition? 17. Does experience confirm this ? Repeat the three instances of this. 16. It is then an appointment of nature that active habits are to be formed by exercise : that our nature is formed to yield in some such manner, to use and exercise; so that we may form a new character, and many habitudes of life, not given by nature, but which nature directs us to acquire. Illus¬ trate this. 19. Indeed, what does the fact, that we have these capacities of improving by experience, acquired knowledge, and habits, prove ? 20. How is this further shown ? 21. What is the supposition illustrative of this ? 22. What is the state of man, then, in these respects, as to that mature state of life which is the end of his creation, con¬ sidering him only as related to this world ? 23. How are we to regard childhood and youth in reference to mature age ? 24. How is this still further illustrated 1 25. Now, if these things be so, how are we to regard the present stages of life, in reference to a maturer condition of being hereafter ? 26. Suppose we are unable to discern how the present life could be our preparation for another, ought that to be an objec¬ tion to the credibility it is so ? 27. What is the conclusion from this ? ^ 28. Suppose we include the idea of moral government, and conse¬ quently that virtue and piety are necessary qualifications for the future state, how will the question then stand ? 29. Judging from the analogies of nature, is the Hereafter a soli¬ tary, inactive state ? 30. Is ignorance of its employments: ignorance how justice, ve¬ racity, charity, can be exercised among its members, to be taken as proof there will be no such sphere of exercise for those virtues ? 31. Inasmuch as the government established in the universe is moral, what is almost certainty as to fitment for happiness ? 32. We have seen we are, from our natural power of habits, capable of moral improvement by discipline: show that we need it. <■ 33. Show that mankind, and indeed all finite creatures, from their very constitution, arc, before habits of virtue, deficient and in danger of deviations from right, and, therefore, need virtuous habits for a security. 34. Now, what is the general security against this danger of actually deviating from right, which finite creatures are in from propension or particular affections ? QUESTIONS. 285 35. How is this illustrated ? Might not a sense of interest effectually restrain creatures from doing wrong ? 36. Show how it comes to pass that creatures made upright fall: and that those who preserve their uprightness, by so doing, raise themselves to a more secure state in virtue. . , 37. What is here meant by the phrases, creatures made upright; or finitely perfect ? 38. Now, how do these propensions and affections endanger the uprightness of such creatures? 39. How is such a case illustrated / 40. It is indeed impossible to say how much the first full overt act of irregularity might disorder the inward constitution ; but is it as hard to say what would be the effect of re¬ peated irregularities ? 41. And conversely, how may it be shown that by following the moral principle, upright creatures may improve; may raise themselves to a higher and securer state ofyirtue? 42. Now then, what is the conclusion as to habits of vicious in¬ dulgence, and habits of virtuous self-government in them¬ selves, and on the inward constitution and character? 43. May not the more complete security of virtuous beings in this higher perfection continue to consist in habits of virtue formed in a state of discipline: and if so, will it serve to explain how creatures made upright, may be in danger of going wrong ? 44. If virtuous habits are needed for the full security of vir- ?tuous beings, aforliorU what will be the need oi such with respect to beings who have corrupted their nature ? 45. Now, how is it shown that this present world is 'peculiarlyJit to be a state of discipline for moral amendment and im¬ provement ? 46. Once more, how do allurements to wrong-doing: difficulties in the discharge of duty ; the snares and temptations of vice under the present world, y)eculiarly fit it to be a state of discipline to such as will maintain their integrity ? 47. For example. 48. Is self-denial essential to virtue and piety ? 49. What is the sense in which this world is to be considered peculiarly fit to be a state of discipline for our improve¬ ment in virtue and piety ? 50. Do we know the whole end and occasion, why mankind is placed in the present, which to many is a discipline of vice rather than of virtue ? 51. What appears to be a fact as to this ? 52. But may it not be objected, that since the generality do not improve or grow better in the present world, that this world was not intended for moral discipline ? Answer the objection. 286 QUESTIONS. 53. What does Butler say of the appearance of such an amazing waste in nature, of vegetable and animal life, unperfected ? 54. How do you answer the objection, that behavior, though vir¬ tuous, yet proceeding from hope and fear, is only a disci¬ pline of self-love ? 55. Are hope and fear then, proper means for the discipline of vir¬ tuous character ? 56. Besides active virtue, what other essential part of a right character is there, and which is very much in our power to form ourselves to ? 57. How do you answer the question, What need for resigna¬ tion in a state of perfect happiness ? Can nothing but af¬ flictions require this virtue ? 58. Now, why may there be need for that temper of the mind, which is formed by patience and contentedness with the de¬ gree of happiness allotted us, founded on habits of resig¬ nation ? 59. What is the proper discipline for resignation ? Why is it ? 60. Is this the mere inuring of the mind to submit to power and force ? What is the conclusion from this ? 61. How do you answer the objection, that all this discipline of life might have been saved us, by our being made at once the creatures and characters we were to be ? 62. In what case is this law of our nature, namely, that what we are to be, is to be the effect of what we do, definite and plain ? 63. Besides the ideas of danger and difficulties, discipline and improvement, what is the third idea implied, in the present world being in a state of probation ? ^ 64. Of what may it be the means with reference to the ultimate disposal of moral beings ? CHAPTER VI. 1. What is the subject of this chapter ? 2. To what has the condition of mankind, as inhabitants of this world, and under moral government, been shown to be analogous ? 3. But, might not a fatalist object, that the opinion of universal necessity will account for the origin and preservation of all things; and hence there can be no such thing as our being in a state of religion ; how do you meet this objection? 4. In an argument between a fatalist, and one who believed him¬ self a free agent, as to the origin of a house, would their difference of belief as to necessity and freedom affect their agreement that it is the work of some architect ? In what might they disagree ? 5. Suppose, then, they proceeded to inquire concerning the con- QUESTIONS. 28Y stitution of nature, how must they use the terms, necessity and freedom ? 6. Why do we ascribe to God a necessary existence, uncaused by any agent ? 7. Why cannot we ascribe this kind of necessity, a necessity antecedent in nature to design, to everything that exists? 8. Now, what does the fatalist mean, when he says everything is b}'^ necessity ? 9. Suppose the system of fatalism, as thus explained; What then ? JO. Now, since the scheme of fatalism pre-supposes a builder, what do the appearances of design and final causes in the constitution of nature jirove this Builder to be ? 11. Does the opinion, then, of necessity destroy the proof that there is an intelligent Author and Governor of the natural world ? 12. Supposing, then, the opinion of necessity consistent with the constitution of the world, and the natural government we expeiience, would it destroy all reasonable ground of belief that we are in a probationary state ? 13. What is the illustration to show that it does not, even on the fatalist’s own principles of conduct ? 14. What is the illustration to show that the scheme of fatalism is equally fallacious in a practical sense ? 15. Even though it were admitted that the opinion of necessity is speculativel 3 ^ true, is it not fjractically false ? 16. If, therefore, the opinion of nccessit}'^, be it ever so true spec¬ ulatively, misleads us as to our real interests in the prac¬ tical affairs of life, is it safe to trust to, in interests that are future, and more solemn still ? 17. How does it follow, then, that if the evidence of religion on the supposition of freedom be conclusive, it is equally so on the supposition of necessit^^ ? 18. How is it shown, that fate, necessity, is, on the fatalist’s prin¬ ciples, reconcilable with the idea of a Moral Governor and Designer ? 19. Now, the benevolence, veracity, justice of the Creator, attri¬ butes which are the foundation of religion, are also recon¬ cilable on the principle of necessity : How do you show this ? 20. Well then, if universal necessity be reconcilable with the character of the Author of nature, does it not plainly de¬ stroy this moral character, and with it the proof of religion ? 21. Show the proof from ffnal causes, that the idea of an intelli¬ gent Moral Governor is not affected by the supposition that necessity is reconcilable with the constitution of things. 22. Prove that the dictates of the moral faculty are laws in a sense including sanctions. 23. What gives explicitness to the sanction: makes it, as one may say, exj)ressed ? 288 QUESTIONS. 24. And why does it so? 25. What then is there the most evident reason to conclude as to - the government of God ? and what is the deduction from it as to the obligations of religious worship ? 26. Now, why can no valid objection be brought against this general proof of religion, nor against the proposition that we have such a moral faculty, nor against the conclusion that God will reward the righteous and punish the wicked, finally ? t 27. By what else is this reasoning from fact confirmed, and what indeed makes the general proof of religion unanswerably real, even on the wild supposition of universal necessity? 28. Besides this, has natural religion any external evidence which ‘ the doctrine of necessity, if true, would not afiect ? What are the proofs that it has? 29. Now what is the particular value of these three proofs that natural religion has an external evidence, unafiected by the supposition of necessity ? 30. Does the fact, that our moral understandings may be im¬ paired and perverted, and their dictates not impartially attended to, weaken the belief they were designed by nature to inform us in the theory of things, and instruct us how to behave, and what to exjiect from such behavior ? 31. Of what should this liableness we are in to prejudice and perversion, most seriously .tv arn us ? ^ 32. Finally, suppose the fatalist tells you : The method of re¬ wards and punishments, you say, must go on the suppo¬ sition we are free, and not necessary agents: But the Author of nature knows we are not, and hence it is absurd to suppose He will reward or punish us hereafter: How would you answer the objection ? 33. What then is the conclusion from the foregoing consider¬ ations ? 34. In what sense are we to understand that general assertion, that the opinion of necessity is destructive essentially of all religion ? 35. Recapitulate the leading arguments of the chapter. CHAPTER VII. 1. What is the subject of the seventh chapter? 2. Admitting that the analogy of nature strengthens the credi¬ bility of the general doctrines of religion, as facts; and that the notion of necessity does not destroy this credibility, yet may there not be objections against the wisdom, goodness, and equity of the Divine administration implied in the idea of religion, and for which analogy can furnish no answer? How do you meet this objection ? QUESTIONS. 289 3. Why cannot analogy furnish a direct answer to such an objection ? 4. But still, on the supposition of a moral constitution, and a moral goveniment over it, analogy has its use : What is itT 5. Now, what are the teachings of analogy that show this ? 6. Show' that the natural government of the world is a scheme infinite and incomprehensible, and that, analogically, the moral government must be so ? 7. In truth, do the natural and moral constitution of the world form two distinct schemes ? 8. What is the conclusion from this ? 9. Thus, for example. 10. Suppose it asserted that the origin and continuance of evil might have been prevented by interpositions so guarded as to preclude all mischief arising from them : or suppose it is asserted that a scheme of government is in itself an imper¬ fection, since more good might have been produced by single insulated acts of distinctive goodness and justice than by any such scheme or constitution : How would you an¬ swer the objection ? 11. What, in truth, is the common but really satisfactory answer to all objections against the justice and goodness of God ? For example. 12. How' may this be further shown, namely, that all objections against the goodness and justice of God in the constitution of things are forceless ? 13. Now, upon the supposition that the moral is analogous to the natural world, and in which natural ends are reached by means both apparently undesirable and unlikely, what is our conclusion ? 14. But is there not a presumption against this, in the fact, that we do not always see those means have this tendency, but rather the contrary ? 15. By what analogy is it sho%vn, that though the commission of wickedness may be beneficial to the world, yet that it would be infinitely more beneficial to refrain from it ? 16. When it is said that the actual permission of evil is beneficial to the world, what is meant ? 17. What are some of the reasons for supposing that Tlie natural go\eminent of the w'orld is earned on by general laws? 18. Now, though every single case may be provided for by these general laws, yet might not interpositions to prevent irreg¬ ularities, which general laws could neither prevent nor remedy, be manifestly attended with some bad effects ? 19. Upon the whole, then, what is the conclusion as to interpo¬ sitions ? 20. Two objections may here be raised : First, that we must judge of religion as we do of other things, by what we do know, and reject all su]>posed relations and impossibilities which to us are unknown; and secondly, that these un- 13 290 QUESTION^ known impossibilities and relations militate as much against as for religion : How do you answer them ? Answer the first. 21. How do you answer the second ? 22. Even though the future consequences of virtue and vice were doubtful, would it not' be, after all, the highest prudence to abstain from all wickedness, and to practise the right ? 23. But again, these objections against religion cannot be made use of to invalidate its proofs: How do the analogies of nature show this ? 24. Finally, what does analogy show us definitely as to our ca¬ pability of judging of the possibilities of things, and the various relations in nature ? Recapitulate the leading argurnents of the chapter. CONCLUSION. 1. How do the observations of the last chapter lead us to con¬ sider the present life ? 2. What then is the character of the.scheme in which we find ourselves placed ? ' 3. What is the only intelligent way of accounting for the origin and continuance of the world ? 4. Now, as many things render it palpably absurd, tliat we shall cease to he, at death, what reflections must, at times, sug¬ gest themselves to earnest thinking men ? 5. On what is the probability that we shall be living creatures after death grounded ? 6. What is the argument for this from experience ? 7. Now, what is the character of the prospect which immortality opens to us ? 8. How has it been shown that to good actions, as such, happi¬ ness has been annexed, and to bad actions, as such, misery: in other words, that the good will be rewarded and the bad punished ? 9. Does this establish the opinion of a moral government? and what are the apprehensions it suggests ? 10. How is it shown from the analogies of things that there is nothing incredible in supposing a future condition, depen¬ dent on our behavior noic? 11. What is the teaching of religion on this* subject? 12. By what else is this intention of nature, namely, that the present is probationary, rendered credible ? 13. What are the answers to the objections to religion from the doctrine of necessity ? 14. As these things are matters of fact, what should their legiti¬ mate influence be on our lives and conduct ? I qUESTIONS. 291 15. Can mere passion in sncli a state be pleaded as an excuse for a vicious life ? 16, Finally, are the proper motives to religion and the proofs of it the same: and what are they ? PART IL OF REVEALED RELIGION. CHAPTER I. 1. What is the object of this chapter ? 2. On what grounds do some reject all revelation as in its very nature incredible and fictitious'? 3. VTiat consideration shows that natural religion is not enough for all our moral and spiritual wants 1 4. In fact, is there any likeliness that any one could have reasoned out a system of natural religion, full, simple, and unmarred by superstition ? 5. Admitting the generality of mankind might have reasoned out such a system, might not revealed religion have still been • needed ? 6. What is the argument used by some, who do not deny the p^Tssibility of revelation, but rather overlook its claims, as of little importance if natural religion be followed ? 7. How do you answer an argument of this kind ? 8. What two fundamental considerations to be attended to in discussing the importance of Christianity 1 9. How is it shown that Christianity’ is a republication of natu¬ ral religion ? _ entire work ? CONCLUSION. 1 . Why are inattention and disregard on the part of those who have had the moral system of the world explained by Christianity, and its claims often inculcated upon them, in¬ excusable ? 2. What does inattention to revealed religion imply ? Why does it imply this ? 3. How do you show we are under the most serious obligations- to inquire into the evidence of Christianity, and embrace it, on the supposition of its truth ? 4. To what lengths do the rejectors of natural and revealed re¬ ligion carry their opposition, on speculative grounds of dis¬ belief ? 6. Do such objectors deny that revealed religion has no solid' grounds of evidence ? 6. On what do such persons ground their objections ? 7. Show how this Treatise is adapted to meet such objections. Do this, by giving a brief synopsis of the chapters on re¬ vealed religion. '4 4 -. ■; i- "* j f/i • ■?i*\'*'■ '■Jfr- r- >■ 1 . • • ' ' '*J!W * ^ ' ^ ' V- V ■ r«. .■>V ' ‘‘ ■■;+-" ' -> < •^ . ■' ■\s "Til >1* i}p' l' t p* : m.- t % * c % '■ *4 , -f . / ) v- I ie f \ > P v r' ■ / 1 V. t . ■7^ ►1 i « ‘ J. < » '> ■\ •» ■'( I ' ' %. Vib .. ^ -■• V: