YALF UNIVERSITY LIBRARY WORKS PRESIDENT EDWARDS. IN TEN VOLUMES. VOL. II. CONTAININS, I. IN4UIRV INTO THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL. II. THE GREAT CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF ORIGINAL SIN DEFENDED. NEW-YORK: PUBLISHED BY S. CONVERSE. 1829. CONTENTS OF VOLUME IL L INQUIRY INTO THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL. Preface PART I. Expla-nation of Terms, S[c. Sect, i. The Nature of the WiU II. What determines the Will III. The Nature of Necessity IV. Of Natural and Moral Inability y. Of Liberty and Moral Agency PART II. Coi^eming the Arminia-n JVotion of L-iberty. Sect. i. The Inconsisteace of Arminian Liberty IL Supposed Evasions considered III. No Event without a Cause IV. Volition not without a Cause v. These Evasions Impertinent VI. Of choosing in Things Indifferent VII. Of Liberty of Indifference VIII. Of Liberty without Necessity IX. Will connected with Understanding X. Acts connected with Motives XI. God foreknows our Volitions XII. Foreknowledge infers Necessity XIII. Arminian Liberty Inconsistent PART III. Concernmg Moral Agency, l^irt-ue and Vice, Ssc. Sect. i. God's moral excellency necessary II. Christ's Volitions necessarily holy, &c. III. Moral Necessity and Inability consistent IV. Commands consistent with Moral Inability . ; V. Sincerity of Desires and Endeavours vr. Indifference inconsistent with Virtue VII. Arminian Notions of Moral Agency, &c. . PART IV. On the Chief Grounds of the Reasoning qf Arminians, Sect. i. Of the Essence of Virtue and Vice . II. Arminian Notion of Action, false III. Calvinism not against Common Sense Page 11 J5IK 26 32 38 4-.' 4350 55 59 62, I' 86 98 114 127 133 136 148 154 166173 179 186 19S 204 C0NT6NTS. Sect. iv. Necessary Virtue agreeable to Common Sense V. Endeavours consistent with Calvinism VI. The charge of Stoicism, &c. answered vii. Necessity of Divine Volition VIII. Necessity of Divine Volition, continued IX. Ofthe existence of Sia, &c. X. Concerning Sin's first entrance XI. Of God's Moral character . XII. Supposed Tendency of Necessity XIII. Concerning Abstruse Reasoning . XIV. The Conclusion XV. Appendix .... 210217 223226 233 244 258 265272 274 280 290 IL THE GREAT CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF ORIGINAL SIN DEFENDED. PART I. E-tddences qf Original Sinfrom Facts and Events. GHAP. 1. The Evidence of the Doctrine from Facts. Sect. i. All men tend to Sin and Ruin . . 309 II. Universal Sin proves a sinful propensity . 320 III. This tendency most corrupt and pernicious 327 IV. AU men sin immediately, &c. . . 332 V. All have more Sin than Virtue . . 336 VI. Men's proneness to extreme Stupidity, &c. . 343 VII. Generality of raankind wicked . . 352 VIII. Great means used to oppose wickedness . 361 IX. Several evasions considered . . 378 CHAP. II. Arguments from universal mortality . ¦ . . . 393 PART II. Proofs of the Doctrinefrom particular parts qf Scripture. CHAP. I. Observations on the first three chapters of Genesis. Sect. i. Concerning Adam's original Righteousness . 406 II. Death threatened to our first parents . 418 III. Adam a federal Head, &c. . . . 424 CHAP. II. Observations on Texts, chiefly ofthe Old Testament, &c. 439 I^. Observations on Texts, principally in the New Testament. Sect. i. Observations on John iii. 6. . . . 449 II. Observations on Rom. iii. 9 — 24. . . 456 /^iT»T> ,,r ^ '"• Observations on Rom. v. 6—10., Eph. ii. 3. &c. 464 CHAP. I v.. Containing observations on Rom. v. 12, &c. Sect. i. Remarks on Dr. Taylor's way of explaining this Text ..... 476 II. The true scope of Rom. v. 12, &c. . . 500 PART III. CHAP. I. IL Evidence qf the Doctrine from. Redemption by Christ. Proofs from Redemption by Christ Proof from Application of Redemption PART IV. Containing Answers to Objections. CHAP. I. The Objection from the nature of Sin II. God not the Author of Sin III. The imputation of Adam's sin stated TV. Several other Objections answered 512 519 528 532 642 563 CAREFUL AND STRICT ENQUIRY INTO THE MODERN PREVAILING NOTIONS OF THAT FREEDOM OF WILL, WHICH IS SUPPOSED TO BE ESSENTIAL TO mORAL AGENCY, VIRTUE AND VICE, KEWARD AND PUNISHMENT, PRAISE AND BLAME. ROM. IX. 16.— IT IS NOT OF HBI THAT VSriLLETH. VOL. II. PREFACE. Many find much fault with calling professing Christians, that differ one from another in some matters of opinion, by distinct -narnes ; especially calUng them by tlie names of particular men, who have distinguished themselves as maintainers and promoters of those opi nions : as calling some professing Christians Arminians, from AitMi- Nius ; others Arians, from Akitjs ; others Socinians, from Socinus, andthe like. They think it unjust in itself; as it seems to suppose and suggest, that the persons marked out by these names, received those doctrines which they entertain, out of regard to, and reliance on those men after whom they are named ; as though they rnade them their rule ; in the same manner, as thc followers of Christ are called Christians ; after his name, whom they regard and depend upon, as their great Head and Rule. Whereas, this is an unjust and ground less imputation on those that go under the forementioned denomina tions. Thus (say they) tliere is not the least ground to suppose, that the chief divines, who embrace the scheme of doctrine which is, by many, called Arminianism, believe it the more, because Arminibs believed it : and that there is no reason to think any other, than that they sincerely and impartially study the holy scriptures, and enquire after the mind of Christ, with as much judgment and sincerity, as any of those that call them by these names ; that they seek after truth, and are not careful whether they think exactly as Arminius did ; yea, that, in some things, they actually differ from him. This practice is also esteemed actually injurious on this account, that it is supposed naturally to lead the multitude to imagine the difference between per sons thus named, and others, to be greater than it is ; so great, as if they were another species of beings. And they object against it as arising from an uncharitable, narrow, contracted spirit ; which, they say, commonly inclines persons to confine all that is good to them selves and their own party, and to make a wide distinction between themselves and others, and stigmatize those that differ from them with odious names. They say, moreover, that the keeping up such a dis tinction of names, has a direct tendency to uphold distance and dis affection, and keep alive mutual hatred among Christians, who ought all to be united in friendship and charity, though they cannot, in all things, think alike. I confess, these things are very plausible ; and I will not deny, that there are some unhappy consequences of this distinction of names, and that raen's infirmities and evil dispositions often make an ill improvement of it. But yet, I humbly conceive, these objections are carried far beyond reason. The generality of mankind are dis posed enough, and a great deal too much, to uncharitableness, and to 13 PREFACE. be censorious and bitter towards those that differ from them in reli gious opinions : which evil temper of mind will take occasion to exert itself from many things in themselves innocent, useful and ne cessary. But yet there is no necessity to suppose, that our thus dis tinguishing persons of different opinions by different names, arises mainly ftom an uncharitable spirit. It may arise from the disposition there is in mankind (whom God has distinguished with an ability and inclination for speech) to improve the benefit of language, in the pro per use and design of names, given to things of which they have often occasion to speak, which is to enable them to express their ideas with ease and expedition, without being encumbered with an obscure and diificult circumlocution. And our thus distinguishing persons of dif ferent opinions in religious matters may not imply any more, than that there is a difference; a difference of which we find we have often oc casion to take notice : and it is always a defect in language, in such cases, to be obliged to make use of a description, instead ofa name. Thus we have often occasion to speak of those who are the descen dants of the ancient inhabitants of France, in distinction from the descendants of the inhabitants of Spain ; and find the great conve nience of those distinguishing words, French and Spaniards ; by which the signification of our minds is quick and easy, and our speech is delivered from the burden of a continual reiteration of diffuse des- priptions, with which it must otherwise be embarrassed. That there is occasion to speak often concerning the difference of those, who in their general scheme of divinity agree with these two noted men, Calvin and Akminius, is what the practice of the latter confesses ; who are often, in their discourses and writings, taking notice of the supposed absiird and pernicious opinions of the former sort. And therefore the making use of different names in this case cannot reasonably be objected against, as a thing which must come from so bad a cause as they assign. It is easy to be accounted for, without supposing it to arise from any other source, than the exi gence ofthe case, whereby mankind express those things, which they have frequent occasion to mention, by certain distinguishing names. , It is an effect, similar to what we see in cases innumerable, where the cause is not at all blameworthy. Nevertheless, at first, I had thoughts of carefully avoiding tbe use of the appellation, Ar-miniaii, in this Treatise. But I soon found I should be put to great difficulty by it ; and that my discourse would be too much encumbered with circumlocution, instead of a name, •which would better express the thing intended. And therefore I must ask the excuse of such as are apt to be offended with, things of this nature, that I have so freely used the term Arminian'm the following Discourse. I profess it to be without any design to stigmatize per sons of any sort with a name of reproach, or at all to make them ap pear more odious. If, when I had occasion to speak of those Divines who are commonly called by this name, I had, instead of styling them Arminians, called them " these men,'" as Dr. Whitby does Calvinis tic B'lvmes, it probably would not have been taken any better, or thought to show a better temper, or more good manners. I have done as I would be done by, in this matter. However the term Cal vinistic is, in these days, among most, a term of greater reproach faEFACB, l3 tJian the term Arminian ; yet I should not take it at all amiss, to be called a Calvinist, for distinction's sake : though I utterly disclaim a dependence on Calvin, or believing the doctrines which I hold, be^ cause he believed and taught them ; and cannot justly be charged with believing in every thing just as he taught. But, lest I should really be an occasion of injury to some per sons, 1 would here give notice, that though I generally speak of that doctrine, concerning Free-will and moral Agency, which I oppose, as an Arminian doctrine ; yet I would not be understood as asserting j that every Divine or Author, whom I have occasion to mention as maintaining that doctrine, was properly an Arminian, or one of that sort which is commonly called by that name. Some of them went far beyond the Arminians; and 1 would by no means charge Armi nians in general with all the corrupt doctrine, which these maintain ed. Thus, for instance, it would be very injurious, if I should rank Arminian Divines, in general, with such Authors as Mr. Chubb. I doubt not, many of them have some of his doctrines in abhorrence ; though he agrees, for the most part, with Arminians, in his notion of the Freedom ofthe Will. And, on the other hand, though I suppose this notion to be a leading article in the Armmiara scheme, that which, if pursued in its consequences, will truly infer, or naturally lead to all the rest ; yet I do not charge all that have held this doctrine, with being Arminians. For whatever may be the consequences of the doctrine really,-yet some that hold this doctrine, may not own nor see these consequences ; and it would be unjust, in many instances, to charge every Author with believing and maintaining all the real consequences of his avowed doctrines. And I desire it may be par ticularly noted, that though I have occasion, in the following Disr course, often to mention the Author of the book, entitled An Essay on the Freedom of the Will, in God and the Creature,* as holding that notion of Freedom of Will, which I oppose ; yet I do not mean to call him an Arminian : however, in that doctrine he agrees with Arminians, and departs from the current and general opinion of Cal vinists. If the Author of that Essay be the same as it is commonly ascribed to, he doubtless was not one that ought to bear that name. But however good a Divine he was ih many respects, yet that parti cular Arminian doctrine which he maintained, is never the better for being held by such an one : nor is there less need of opposing it on that account, but rather more : as it will be likely to have the more pernicious influence, for being taught by a Divine of his name and character ; supposing the doctrine to be wrong, and in itself to be of an ill tendency. I have nothing further to say by way of preface ; but only to be speak the Reader's candour, and calm attention to what I have writ ten. The subject is of such importance, as to demand attention, and the most thorough consideration. Of all kinds of knowledge that we can ever obtain, the knowledge of God, and the knowledge of our selves, are the most important. As religion is the great business for which we are created, and on which our happiness depends ; and as * TMs Essay lias been generally ascribed to Dr. Watts, and is included in his works. W. 14 PREFACE. religion consists in an intercourse between ourselves and our Maker ; and so has its foundation in God's nature and ours, and in the rela tion that God and we stand in to each other ; therefore a true know ledge of both must be needful, in order to true religion. But the 'knowledge of ourselves consists chiefly in right apprehensions con cerning those two chief faculties of our nature, the understanding and mill. Both are very important : yet the science of the latter must be confessed to be of greatest moment ; inasmuch as all virtue and religion have their seat more immediately in the will, consisting more especially in right acts and habits of this faculty. And the grand question about the Freedom ofthe Will, is the main point that belongs to the science of the Will. Therefore, I say, the importance of this subject greatly demands the attention of Christians, and espe cially of Divines. But as to rny manner of handling the subject, I would be far from presuming to say, that it is such as demands the attention of the Reader to what I have written. I am ready to own, that in this matter I depend on the Reader's courtesy. But only thus far I may have some colour for putting in a claim ; that if the Reader be disposed to pass his censure on what I have written, I may be fully and patiently heard, and well attended to, before I am condemned. However, this is what I would humbly aslc of my Readers ; together with the prayers of all sincere lovers of truth, that I may have much of that spirit which Christ promised his disciples, which guides into all truth ; and that the blessed and powerful influences of this spirit would make truth victorious in the world. CAREFUL AND STRICT ENaUIRY, <^c. PART I. WHEREIN ARE EXPLAINED AND STATED VARIOUS TERMS AND THINGS BELONGING TO THE SUBJECT OF THE ENSUING DISCOURSE. SECT. I. Concerning the Nature of the WiU. It may possibly be thought, that there is no great need of going about to define or describe the Will; this word being generally as well understood as any other words we can use to explain it : and so perhaps it would be, had not philosophers, metaphysicians and polemic divines brought the matter into obscurity by the things they havc said of it. But since it is so, I think it may be of some use, and will tend to greater clearness in the following discourse, to say a few things con cerning it. And therefore I observe, that the Will (without any meta physical refining) is, That by which the mind chooses any thing. The faculty of the Will, is that power, or principle of mind, by which it is capable of choosing : an act of the Will is the same as an act of choosing or choice. If any think it is a more perfect definition of the Will, to say, that it is that by which the soul either chooses or refuses ; I am content with it : though I think it enough to say, It is that by which the soul chooses : for in every act of Will what soever, the mind chooses one thing rather than another ; it chooses something rather than the contrary, or father than the 16 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT I. want or non-existence of that thing. So in every act of re fusal, the mind chooses the absence of the thing refused ; the positive and the negative are set before the mind for its choice, and it chooses the negative ; and the mind's making its choice in that case is properly the act of the Will : the Will's determining between the two, is a voluntary determina tion ; but that is the same thing as making a choice. So that by whatever names we call the act of the Will, choosing, re fusing, approving, disapproving, liking, disliking, embracing, rejecting, determining, directing, commanding, forbidding, in clining or being averse, being pleased or displeased with ; all may be reduced to this of choosing. For the soul to act volun tarily, is evermore to act electively. Mr. Locke* says, " The Will signifies nothing but a power or ability to prefer or choose.'" And, in the foregoing page, he says, " The word preferring seems best to express the act of vohtion ;" but adds, that " it does it not precisely ; for, though a man would prefer flying to walking, yet who can say he ever wills it ?" But the instance he mentions, does not prove that there is any thing else in willing, but merely preferring : for it should be considered what is the immediate object of the Will, with respect to a man's walking, or any other 'external action ; which is not being removed from one place to another ; on the earth, or through the air ; these are remoter objects of preference ; but such or such an immediate exertion of himself. The thing next chosen, or preferred, when a man wills to walk, is not his being removed to such a place where he would be, but such an exertion and motion of his legs and feet, &c. in order to it. And his willing such an alteration in his body in the present moment, is nothing else but his choosing or preferring such an alteration in his body at such a moment, or his liking it better than the forbearance of it. And God has so made and established the human na ture, the soul being united to a body in proper state, that the soul preferring or choosing such an immediate exertion or al teration of the body, such an alteration instantaneously fol lows. There is nothing else in the actions of my mind, that I am conscious of while I walk, but only my preferring or choosing, through successive moments, that there should be such alterations of my external sensations and motions • toge- ther with a concurring habitual expectation that it will 'be so • having ever found by experience, that on such an immediate preference, such sensations and motions do actually instanta neously, and constantly arise. But it is not so in the catp nf flying : though a man may be said remotely to choose or orP fer flying : yet he does not prefer, or desire, under circum^ * Human Understanding. Edit. 7. vol. i. p. 197. Sect. t. The Nature of the Wilt. 17 stances in view, any immediate exertion of the members of his body in order to it ; because he has no expectation that he should obtain the desired end by any such exertion ; and he does not prefer, or incline to, any bodily exertion, under this apprehended circumstance, of its being wholly in vain. So that if we carefully distinguish the proper objects of the several acts of the Will, it will not appear by this, and such like in stances, that there is any difference hetween volition and^re- ference ; or that a man's choosing, liking best, or being best pleased with a thing, are not the same with hjs wilUng that thing. Thus an act of the Will is commonly expressed by itsj pleasing a man to do thus or thus ; and a man doing as he wills j and doing as he pleases, are in common speech the samJ thing. Mr. Locke* says, " The Will is perfectly distinguished from Desire ; which in the very same action may have a quite contrary tendency from that which our Wills set us upon. A man, says he, whom I cannot deny, may oblige me to use persuasions to another, which, at the same time I am speak ing, I raay wish may not prevail on him. In this case, it is plain the Will and Desire run counter." I do not suppose, that Will and Desire are words of precisely the same signifi cation : Will seems to be a word of a more general significa tion, extending to things present and absent. Desire respects something absent. I may prefer my present situation and posture, suppose sitting still, or having my eyes open, and so may will it. But yet I cannot think they are so entirely dis tinct, that they can ever be properly said to run counter. A man never, in any instance, wills any thing contrary to his de sires, or desires any thing contrary to his Will. The fore- mentioned instance, which Mr. Locke produces, is no proof that he ever does. He may, on some consideration or other will to utter speeches which have a tendency to persuade an other, and still may desire that they may not persuade him ; but yet his Will and Desire do not run counter at all : the thing which he wills, the very same he desires ; and he does not will a thing, and desire the contrary, in any particular. In this instance, it is not carefully observed, what is the thing willed, and what i,9 the thing desired : if it were, it would be found, that Will and Desire do not clash in the Ifeast. The thing willed on some consideration, is to utter such words; and certainly, the same consideration so influences hini, that he does not desire the contrary ; all things considered, he chooses to utter such words, and does not desire not to utter them. And so as to the thing which Mr. Locke speaks of as desired, viz. That the words, tbough they tend to persuade, * Hum. Und. vol. i. p. 205, 204. VOL. II. ^ 18 FREEDOM OP THE WILL. PaRT. I- should not be efFectual to that end, his Will is not contrary to this ; he does not will that they should be effectual, but rather wills that they should not, as he desires. In order to prove that the Will and Desire may run counter, it should be shown that they may be contrary one to the other in the same thing, or with respect to the very same object of Will or desire : but here the objects are two ; and in each, taken by themselves, .the Will and Desire agree. And it is no wonder that they should not agree in d^erent things, though but little distin guished in their nature. The Will may not agree with the Will, nor Desire agree with Desire, in different things. As in this very instance which Mr. Locke mentions, a person may, on some consideration, desire to use persuasions, and at the same time may desire they may not prevail ; but yet no body will say, that Desire runs counter to Desire ; or that this proves that Desire is perfectly a distinct thing from Desire. — The like might be observed of the other instance Mr. Locke produces, of a man's desiring to be eased of pain, &c. But, not to dwell any longer on this, whether Desire and Will, and whether Preference and Volition be precisely the same things, I trust it will be allowed by all, that in every act of will there is an act of choice ; that in every volition there is apreference, or a prevailing inclination of the soul, whereby, at that instant, it is out of a state of perfect indifference, with respect to the direct object of the volition. So that in every act, or going forth of the Will, there is some preponderation of the mind, one way rather than another ; and the soul had rather have or do one thing, than another, or than not to have or do that thing ; and that where there is absolutely no pre ferring or choosing, but a perfect, continuing equilibrium, there is no volition. SECT. II. Concerning the Determination of the Will. By determining the Will, if the phrase be used with any meaning, must be intended, causing that the act of the Will or Choice should be thus, and not otherwise : and the Will is said to be determined, when, in consequence of some action, or influence, its choice is directed to, and fixed upon a parti cular object. As when we speak of the determination of mo tion, we mean causing the motion of the body to be in such a direction, rather thaIn another. The Determination of the Will, supposes an effect, which must have a cause. If the Will be determined, there is a De terminer. This must be supposed to be intended even bv Sect. ii. Wliat determines the Will. 19 them that say the Will determines itself. If it be so, the Will is both Determiner and determined ; it is a cause that acts and produces effects upon itself, and is the object of its own influence and action. With respect to that grand enquiry, " What determines the Will ?" it would be very tedious and unnecessary, at pre sent, to examine all the various opinions, which have been advanced concerning this matter; nor is it needful that I should enter into a particular discussion of all points debated in disputes on that other question, " Whether the Will always follows the last dictate of the understanding ?" It is sufficient to my present purpose to say, It is that motive, which, as it stands in the view of the mind, is the strongest, that determines the Will. But it may be necessary that I should a little ex plain my meaning. By motive, I mean the whole of that which moves, ex cites, or invites the mind to volition, whether that be one thing singly, or many things conjunctly. Many particular things may concur, and unite their strength, to induce the rnind ; and when it is so, all together are as one complex mo tive. And when I speak of the strongest motive, I have re spect to the strength of the whole that operates to induce a particular act of vohtion, whether that be the strength of one thing alone, or of many together. Whatever is objectively* a motive, in this sense, must be something that is extant in the view or apprehension oftheun- derstanding, or perceiving faculty. Nothing can induce or invite the mind to will or act any thing, any further than it is perceived, or is some way or other in the mind's view ; for what is wholly unperceived and perfectly out of the mind's view, cannot affect the mind at all. It is most evident, that nothing is in the mind, or reaches it, or takes any hold of it, any otherwise than as it is perceived or thought of. / And I think it must also be allowed by all, that every thing that is properly called a motive, excitement, or inducement to a perceiving, willing agent, has some sort and degree of ten dency, or advantage to move or excite the Will, previous to the effect, or to the act of the Will excited. This previous tendency of the motive is what I calf the strength ofthe motive. * This appears to be the author's meaning, in order to preserve a consistency with his professed sentiment of divine influence. He believed that a real chris tian's mind is bom of the Spirit ; and that such a state of mind induces one choice rather than another. But he could not raaintatn that di-ei-ne influence, which is a sul^eetive cause of one volition rather than another, must be "in the view or apprehension of the understanding." For " the wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but' canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth : so ia every one that is born of the Spirit." Beside, the most proper acceptation of the term " motive" seems to plead in favour of tiie restric tion suggested in the text by the word "objectively ;" and the use of this dis tinction may appear more fully hereafter. — W. iio FBEEDOM or THE WILL. PaBT I- That motive which has a less degree of previous advantage, or tendency to move the will, or which appears less inviting, as it stands in the view of the mind, is what I call a wecmer "motive. On the contrary, that which appears most inviting, and has, by wha't appears concerning it to the understanding or apprehension, the greatest degree of previous tendency to excite and induce the choice, is what I call the strongest mo- tive. And in this sense, I suppose the Will is always deter mined by the strongest motive. Things that exist in the view of the mmd have their strength, tendency, or advantage to move, or excite its Will, from many things appertaining to the nature and circumstances of the thing viewed, the nature and circumstances of the mind that views, and the degree and manner of its view ; of vvhich it would perhaps be hard to make a perfect enumeration. But so much I think may be determined in general, without room for controversy, that whatever is perceived or apprehended by an intelligent and voluntary agent, which has the nature and influence of a motive to volition or choice, is considered or viewed as good; nor has it any tendency to engage the elec tion of the soul in any further degree than it appears suchl For to say otherwise, would be to say, that things that appear, have a tendency, by the appearance they make, to engage the mind to elect them, some other way than by their appear ing eligible to it ; vvhich is absurd. And therefore it must be true, in some sense, that the Will always, is, as the greatest apparent good is. But only, for the right understanding of this, two things must be well and distinctly observed. 1. It must be observed in what sense I use the term " good ;" namely, as of the same import with " agreeable." To appear good to the mind, as I use the phrase, is the same as to appear agreeable, or seem pleasing to the mind. Certainly, nothing appears inviting and eligible to the mind, or tending to engage its inchnation and choice, considered as evil ox dis agreeable / nor indeed, as indifferent, and neither agreeable nor disagreeable. But if it tends to draw the inclination, and move the Will, it must be under the notion of that which suits the mind. And therefore that must have the greatest tendency to attract and engage it, which, as it stands in tho mind's view, suits it best, and pleases it most ; and in that sense, is the greatest apparent good : to say otherwise, is lit tle, if any thing, short of a direot and plain contradiction The v^^ord » good," in this sense, includes in its significa tion, the removal or avoiding of evil, or of that which is dis agreeable and uneasy. It is agreeable and pleasing, to avoid what is disagreeable and displeasing, and to have uneasiness removed. So that here is included what Mr. Locke supposes: determines Will. For when he speaks of " uneasiness '' as Sect. ii. What determines the Will. M determining the Will, he must be understood as supposing that the end or aim which governs in the volition or act of preference, is the avoiding or the removal of that uneasiness ; and that is the same thing as choosing and seeking what is more easy and agreeable. 2. When I say, that the Will is as the greatest apparent good, or, (as I have explained it) that volition has always for its object the thing which appears most agreeable ; it must be carefully observed, to avoid confusion and needless objection, that I speak of the direct and immediate object of the act oP volition; and not some object to which the act of Will has only an indirect and remote respect. Many acts of volition have some remote relation to an object, that is different from the thing most immediately willed and chosen. Thus, when a drunkard has his liquor before him, and he has to choose whe ther to drink it, or no ; the immediate objects, about which his present volition is conversant, and between' which his choice now decides, are his own acts, in drinking the liquor, or letting it alone ; and this will certainly be done according to what, in the present view of his mind, taken in the whole of it, is most agreeable to him. If he chooses to drink it, and not to let it alone ; then this action, as it stands in the view of his mind, with all that belongs to its appearance there, is more agreeable and pleasing than letting it alone. But the objects to which this act of vohtion may relate more remotely, and between which his choice may determine more indirectly, are the present pleasure the man expects by drinking, and the future misery which he judges will be the consequence of it ; he may judge that this future misery, when it comes, will be more disagreeable and unpleasant, than refraining from drinking now would be. But these two things are not the proper objects that the act of volition spoken of is next conversant about. For the act of Will spoken of, is concerning present drinking or forbearing to drink. If he wills to drink, then drinking is the proper object of the act of his Will ; and drinking, on some account or other, now appears most agreeable to him, and suits him best. If he chooses to refrain, then refraining is the immediate object of his Will, and is most pleasing to him. If in the choice he makes in the case, he prefers a present pleasure to a future advantage, which he judges will be greater when it comes ; theft a lesser present pleasure appears more agreeable to him than a greater advantage at a distance. If on the contrary a future advan tage is preferred, then that appears most agreeable, and suits him best. And so still, the present volition is, as the greatest apparent good at present is. I have rather chosen to express myself thus, " that the Will always is as the greatest apparent good," or " as what 22 freedom of the will. Part i. appears most agreeable," than to say that the Will is deter- ^ mined by the greatest apparent good," or " by what seems most agreeable ;" because an appearing most agreeable to ttie mind, and the mind's preferring, seem scarcely distinct. It strict propriety of speech be insisted on, it may more properly be said, that the voluntary action, which is the immediate consequence of the mind's choice, is determined by that which appears most agreeable, than the choice itself; but that tJoZi- tion itself is always determined by that in or about the mind's view of the object, which causes it to appear most agreeable. I say, " in or about the mind's view of the object ;" because what has influence to render an object in view agreeable, is not only what appears in the object viewed, but also the man ner of the view, and the state and circumstances of the mind that views. Particularly to enumerate all things pertaining to the mind's view of the objects of vohtion, which have in fluence in their appearing agreeable to the mind, would be a matter of no small difficulty, and might require a treatise by itself, and is not necessary to my present purpose. I shall therefore only mention some things in general. I. One thing that makes an object proposed to choice agreeable, is the apparent nature and circumstances ofthe object. And there are various things of this sort, that have influence in rendering the object more or less agreeable ; as I. That which appears in the object, rendering it beautiful and pleasant, or deformed and irksome to the mind ; viewing it as it is in itself. 2. The apparent degree of pleasure or trouble attending the object, or the consequence of it. Such concomitants and consequences being viewed as circumstances ofthe object, are to be considered as belonging to it ; and as it were parts ofit, as it stands in the mind's view a proposed object of choice. 3. The apparent state of the pleasure or trouble that ap pears, with respect to distance of time ; being either nearer or farther off. It is a thing in itself agreeable to the mind, to have pleasure speedily ; and disagreeable to have it delayed : so that if there be two equal degrees of pleasure set in the mind's view, and all other things are equal, but one is beheld as near, and the other afar off; the nearer will appear most agreeable and so will be chosen. Because, though the agreeableness of the objects be exactly equal, as viewed in themselves, yet not as viewed in their circumstances ; one of them having the ad ditional agreeableness of the circumstance of nearness, II. Another thing that contributes to the agreeableness of an object of choice, as it stands in the mind's view, is the man ner of the view. If the object be something which appears connected with future pleasure, not only will the degree of an Sect. ii. What determines the Will. 23 parent pleasure have influence, but also the manner of the view, especially in two respects. 1. With respect to the degree of assent, with which the mind judges the pleasure to be future. Because it is more agreeable to have a certain happiness, than an uncertain one ; and a pleasure viewed as more probable, all other things being equal, is more agreeable to the mind, than that which is viewed as less probable. 2. With respect to the degree of the idea or apprehension of the future pleasure. With regard to things which are the ' subject of our thoughts, either past, present or future, we have much more of an idea or apprehension of some things than others ; that is, our idea is much more clear, lively and strong. Thus the iHf»ag wp havp nf eamgiKln thingg_l:M; jmjia^^j}^;,.^^ SCHSa- tJQn, are usually much more lively thajB..5lQgS.jKfi-have-bv mere imaginalion^or_byjcontemplatjo^^ My idea ofTFiFstinTwhen 1 look upon it, is more vivid, than when I only think ofit. Our idea of the sweet j-elish of a delicious fruit is usually stronger when we taste it, than when we only imagine it. And sometimes, the idea we have of things by contemplation, are much stronger and clearer, than at other times. Thus, a man at one time has a much stronger idea of the pleasure which is to be enjoyed in eating some sort of food that he loves, than at another. Now the strength of the idea or the sense that men have of future good or evil, is one thing that has great influence on their minds to excite volition. When two kinds of future pleasure are presented for choice, though both are supposed exactly equal by the judgment, and both equally certain, yet of one the mind has a far more lively sense, than of the other ; this last has the greatest advantage by far to affect and attract the mind, and move the Will. It is now more agreeable to the mind, to take the pleasure of which it has a strong and lively sense, than that of which it has only a faint idea. The view of the former is attended with ' the strongest appetite, and the greatest uneasiness attends the want of it ; and it is agreeable to the mind to have uneasiness removed, and its appetite gratified. And if several future en joyments are presented together, as competitors for the choice of the mind, some of them judged to be greater, and others less ; the mind also having a more lively idea of the good of some, and of others a less ; and some are viewed as of greater certainty or probability than others ; and those enjoyments that appear most agreeable in one of these respects, appear least so in others : in this case, all other things being equal, the agree ableness of a proposed object of choice will be in a degree some way compounded of the degree of good supposed by the judgment, the degree of apparent probability or certainty of that good, and the degree of liveliness of the idea the mind 24 freedom of the will. Part. «¦ has of that good ; because all together concur to constitute the degree in which the object appears at present agreeable ; and accordingly will volition be determined. I might further observe, that the state ofthe mind which A^iews a proposed object of choice, is another thing that contri butes to the agreeableness or disagreeableness of that object ; the particular temper which the mind has by nature, or that has been introduced and established by education, example, custom, or some other means ; or the frame or state that the mind is in on a particular occasion. That object which appears agreeable to one, does not so to another. And the same ob ject does not always appear alike agreeable to the same per son, at different times. It is most agreeable to some men, to follow their reason ; and to others, to follow their appetites : to some men, it is more agreeable to deny a vicious inclina tion, that to gratify it : otliers it suits best to gratify the vilest appetites. It is more disagreeable to some men than others, to counter-act a former resolution. In these respects, and many others which might be mentioned, different things will be most agreeable to different persons ; and not only so, but to the same persons at different times. But possibly it is needless to mention the " state of the mind," as a ground of the agreeableness of objects distinct from the other two mentioned before ; viz. The apparent na ture and circumstances of the objects viewed, and the manner of the view. Perhaps, if we strictly consider the matter, the different temper and state of the mind makes no alteration as to the agreeableness of objects, any other way, than as it makes the objects themselves appear differently beautiful or deformed, having apparent pleasure or pain attending them ; and, as it occasions the manner of the view to be different, causes'the idea of beauty or deformity, pleasure or uneasiness to be more or less lively. However, I think so much is certain, that volition, in no one instance that can be mentioned, is otherwise than the greatest apparent good is, in the manner which has been ex plained. The choice of the mind never departs from that which, at the time, and with respect to the direct and inime- diate objects of decision, appears most agreeable and pleasing, all things considered. If the immediate objects of the will are a man's own actions, then those actions which appear most agreeable to him he wills. If it be now most agreeable to him, all things considered, to walk, then he now wills to walk. If it be now, upon the whole of what at present appears to him", most agreeable to speak, then he chooses to speak : if it suits him best to keep silence, then he chooses to keep silence There is scarcely a plainer and more universal dictate of the sense and experience of mankind, than that, when men act vo- Sect. II. What determines the Will. 25 luntarily, and do what they please, then they do what suits them best, or vyhat is most agreeable to them. To say, that they do what pleases them, but yet not what is agreeable to them, is the same thing as to say, they do what they please, but do not act their pleasure ; and that is to say, that they do what they please, and yet do not what they please. It appears from these things, that in some sense, the Will always follows the last dictate of the understanding. But then the understanding must be taken in a large sense, as including the whole faculty of perception or apprehension, and not mere ly what IS p.allf»d rfi//..gQiroJv^Hri^wj^!|7"'"lf hy t"Ee"fficRrfe of the understanding is meant what reason 'declares to be best, or most for the person's happiness, taking in the whole of its dura tion, it is not true, that the Will always follows the last dictate ofthe understanding. Such a dictate of reason is quite a dif ferent matter from things appearing now most agreeable, all things being put together, which pertain to the mind's present preceptions in any respect : although that dictate of reason, when it takes place, has concern in the compound influence which moves the Will ; and sliould be considered in estimating the degree of that appearance of good which the Will, always follows ; either as having its influence added to other things, or subducted from them. When such dictate of reason con curs with other things, then its weight is added to them, as put into the same scale ; but when it is against them, it is as a weight in the opposite scale, resisting the influence of other things : yet its resistance is often overcome by their greater weight, and so the act of the Will is determined in opposition toit. These things may serve, I hope, in some measure, to illustrate and confirm th© position laid down in the beginning of this section, viz. "That the Will is always determined by the strongest motive," or by that view of the mind which has the greatest degree of previous teadency to excite volition. But whether I have been so happy as rightly to explain the thing wherein consists the strength of motives, or not, yet my failing in this will not overthrow the position itself; which carries much of its own evidence with it, and is a point of chief importance to the purpose of the ensuing discourse: And the truth of it, I hope, will appear with great clearness, before I have finished what I have to say on the subject of human liberty. VOL, II. 20 tREEDOM OF THE WILL. ^^^"^ '' SECT. III. Concerning ihe Meaning of the Terms Necessity, Impossibility, InabiUty, ^c. and of Contijigence. The words necessary, impossible, 4-c. are abundantly used in controversies about Free- Will and Moral Agency ; arid therefore the sense in which they are used, should be clearly understood. Here I might say, that a thing is then said to be necessary, when it must be, and cannot be otherwise. But this would not properly be a definition of Necessity, any more than if I explained the word must by the phrase, there being a Ne cessity. "The words must^ can, and cannot, need explication as much as the words necessary and impossible; excepting that the former are words that in earliest life we more com monly use. The word necessary, as used in common speech, is a re lative term ; and relates to some supposed opposition made to the existence of a thing, which opposition is overcome, or proves insufficient to hiiider or alter it. That is necessary, in the original and proper sense of the word, which is, or will be, notwithstanding all supposable.^opposition. To say, that a thing is necessary, is the same thing as to say, that it is im possible, it should not be. But the word impossible is mani festly a relative term, and has reference to supposed power exerted to bring a thing to pass, vvhich is insufficient for the effect ; as the word unable is relative, and has relation to abili ty, or endeavour, which is insufficient. Also the word irresist ible is relative, and has always reference to resistance which is made, or may be made, to some force or power tending to an effect, and is insufficient to withstand the power, or hinder the effect. The common notion of Necessity and Impossibi lity implies something that frustrates endeavour or desire. Here several things are to be noted. 1. Things are said to be necessary in general, which are or will be notwithstanding any supposable opposition from whatever quarter. But things are said to be necessary to us, which are or will be notwithstanding all opposition supposable ,ip, the case /rom us. The same may be observed ofthe word {possible, and other such like terms. • 2. These terms necessary, impossible, irresistible, ^c. more especially belong to controversies about liberty and moral agency, as used in the latter of the two senses now mention- Sect. hi. The Nature of Necessity. 27 ed, VIZ. as necessary or impossible to us, and with relation to any supposable opposition or endeavour of ours. 3. As the word Necessity, in its vulgar and common use, is relative, and has always reference to some supposable insuf ficient opposition ; so when we speak of any thing as necessary to us, it is with relation to some supposable opposition of our Wills, or some voluntary exertion or effort of ours to the contrary. For we do not properly make opposition to an event, any otherwise than as we voluntarily oppose it. Things are said to be what must be, or necessarily are, as to us, when they are, or will be, though we desire or endeavour the con trary, or try to prevent or remove their existence : but such opposition of ours always either consists in, or implies opposi tion of our wills. It is manifest that all such like words and phrases, as vul garly used, are understood in this manner. A thing is said to be necessary, when we cannot help it, let us do what we will. So any thing is said to be impossible to us, when we would do it, or would have it brought to pass, and endeavour it ; or at least may be supposed to desire and seek it ; but all our de sires and endeavours are, or would be vain. And that is said to be irresistible, which overcomes all our opposition, resist ance, and endeavour to the contrary. And we are said to be unable to do a thing, when our supposable desires and endeav ours are insufficient. We are accustomed, in the common use of language, thus to apply and understand these phrases : we grow up with such a habit ; which, by the daily use of these terms from our childhood, becomes fixed and settled ; so that the idea of a relation to a supposed will, desire, and endeavour of ours, is strongly connected with these terms, whenever we hear the words used. Such ideas, and these words, are so associated, that they unavoidably go together; one suggests the other, and never can be easily separated as long as we live. And though we use the words, as terms of art, in another sense, yet, unless we are exceedingly circumspect, we shall insen sibly slide into the vulgar use of them, and so apply the words in a very inconsistent manner, which will deceive and confound us in our reasonings and discourses, even when we pretend to use them as terms of art. 4. It follows from what has been observed, that when these terms necessary, impossible, irresistible, unable, <^c. are used in cases wherein no insiifiicient will is supposed, or can be supposed,~but the very nature of the supposed case itself excludes any opposition, will or endeavour, they are then not used in their proper signification. The reason is manifest; in such cases we cannot use the words with reference to a sup posable opposition, will or endeavour. And therefore if any 28 FREEDOM OP THE WILL. J'ART I- man uses these terms in such cases, he either uses them non sensically, or in some new sense, diverse from their original and proper meaning. As for instance ; if any one shouia affirm after this manner. That it is necessary for a man, or what must be, that he should choose virtue rather than vice, during the time that he prefers virtue to vice ; and that it is a thing impossible and irresistible, that it should be otherwise ? than that he should have this choice, so long as this choice continues ; such a one would use tho ternis must, irresistible, ^c. with either perfect insignificance, or in some new sense, diverse from their common use ; which is with reference, as has been observed, to supposable opposition, unwillingness and resistance ; whereas, here, the very supposition excludes and denies any such thing : for the case supposed is that of being willing, and choosing. 5. It appears from what has been said, that these terms necessary, impossible, ^c. are ofteii used by philosophers and metaphysicians in a sense quite diverge from their common and original signification ; for they apply them to many cases in which no opposition is supposable. Thus they use them with respect to God's existence before the creation of the world, when there was no other being ; with regard to many of the dispositions and acts of the divine Being, such as his loving himself, his loving righteousness, hating shn, &c. So they apply them to many cases of the inclinations and actions of created intelligent beings, wherein all opposition of the Will is excluded in the very supposition of the case. Metaphysical or Philosophical Necessity is nothing dif ferent from their certainty. I speak not now of the certainty of knowledge, but the certainty that is in things themselves, whieh is the foundation of the certainty of the knowledge, or that wherein lies the ground ofthe infallibihty of the proposi tion which affirms them. What is sometimes given as the definition of philosophi cal Necessity, namely, " That by which a thing cannot but be,'" or " whereby it cannot be otKerwise,"" fails of being a proper explanation of it, on two accounts : First, the words can, or cannot, need explanation as much as the word Necessity ; and the former may as well be explained by the latter, as the latter by the former. Thus, if any one asked us what we mean, when we say, a thing cannot but be, we might explain ourselves by saying, it must necessarily be so ; as well as ex plain Necessity, by saying, it is that by which a thing cannot but be. Arid Secondly, this definition is liable to the fore- mentioned great inconvenience ; the words cannot, or unable are properly relative, and have relation to power exerted or that may be exerted, in order to the thing spoken of; to which Sect. Ill, The Nature of Necessity. 29 as 1 have now observed, the word Necessity, as used by philo sophers, has no reference. Philosophical Necessity is really nothing else than the full AND FIXED CONNECTION BETWEEN THE THINGS SIGNIFIED BY THE SUBJECT AND PREDICATE OF A PROPOSITION, which affirms something to be true. When there is such a connection, then the thing affirmed in the proposition is necessary, in a philo sophical sense ; whether any opposition, or contrary effort be supposed, or no. When the subject and predicate of the pro position, which affirms the existence of any thing, either sub stance, quality, act, or circumstance, have a full and certain CONNECTION, then the existence or being of that thing is said to be necessary in a metaphysical sense. And in this sense I use the word Necessity, in the following discourse, when I endeavour to prove that Necessity is not inconsistent with Li berty. The subject and predicate of a proposition, which affirms existence of something, may have a full, fixed, and certain connection several ways. ^ (1.) They may have a full and perfect connection in and of themselves ; because it may imply a contradiction, or gross absurdity, to suppose them not connected. Thus many things are necessary in their own nature. So the eternal existence of being generally considered, is necessary in itself; because it would be in itself the greatest absurdity, to deny the existence of being in general, or to say there was absolute and univer sal nothing ; and is as it were the sum of all contradictions ; as might be shewn, if this were a proper place for it. So God's infinity, and other attributes are necessary. So it is necessary in its own nature, that two and two should be four ; and it is necessary, that all right lines drawn from the center of a circle to the circumference should be equal. It is necessary, fit and suitable, that men should do to others, as they would that they should do to them. So innumerable metaphysical and mathe matical truths are necessary in themselves : the subject and predicate ofthe proposition which affirms them, are perfectly connected of themselves. (2i) The connection of the subject and predicate ofa pro position, which affirms the existence of something, may be fixed and made certain, because the existence of that thing is already come to pass ; and either now is, or has been ; and so has, as it were, made sure of existence. And therefore, the proposition which affirms present and past existence of it, may by this means, be made certain, and necessarily and unalter« ably true ; the past event has fixed and decided the matter, as to its existence ; and has made it impossible but that ex istence should be truly predicated of it. Thus the existence of whatever is already come to pass, is now become necessary; ao FRfiEDOM OP THE WILL. ¦ PaRT '• it is become.impossible it should be otherwise than true, that such a thing has been. . . , • j (3.) The subject and predicate of a proposition wmcn affirms something to be, may have a real and certain connec tion consequentially; and so the existence ofthe thing may be consequentially necessary ; as it may be surely and firmly con-. nected with something else, that is necessary in one of the former respects. As it is either fully and thoroughly connected with that which is absolutely necessary in its own nature, or. wilh something which has already received and made sure of existence. This Necessity lies in, or may be explained by the connection of two or more propositions one with another. Things which are perfectly connected with other things that are necessary, are necessary themselves, by a Necessity of consequence. And here it may be observed, that all things which are future, or which will hereafter begin to be, which can be said to be necessary, are necessary only in this last way. Their existence is not necessary in itself; for if so, they always would have existed. Nor is their existence become necessary by being already come to pass. Therefore, the only way that any thing that is to come to pass hereafter, is or can be ner cessary, is by a connection with something that is necessary in its own nature, or something that already is, or has been; so that the one being supposed, the other certainly follows.— And this also is the only way that all things past, excepting 'those which were from eternity, could be necessary b^eace th£y.JsomciQ,jgms ; and therefore the only way in which any effect or event, or any thing whatsoever that ever has had, or viiW have a beginning, has come into being necessarily, or will lioreafter necessarily exist. And therefore this is the Neces- ¦^ity which especially belongs to controversies about the acts of the will. It may be of some use in these controversies, further to observe concerning metaphysical Necessity, that (agreeable to the distinction before observed of Necessity, as vulgarly un derstood) things that exist may be said to be necessary, either with a general or particular Necessity. The existence of a thing may be said to be necessary with a general Necessity, when, all things considered, there is a foundation for the cer- tainty of their existence ; or when in the most general and universal view of things, the subject and predicate of the pro position, which affirms its existence, would appear with an iufallible connection. An event, or the existence of a thing, may be said to be necessary with a. particular Necessity, when nothing that can be taken into consideration, in or about a person, thino- or time, alters the case at all, as to the certainty of an event or Sect, m! The Nature of Necessity. 3l the existence of a thing ; or can be of any Recount at all, in determining the infallibility of the connection of the subject and predicate in the proposition which affirms the existence of the thing; so that it is all one, as to that person, or thing, at least at that time, as if the existence were necessary with a Necessity that is most universal and absolute. Thus there are many things that happen to particular persons, in the ex istence of which no will of theirs has any concern, at least at that time ; which, whether they are necessary or not, with re gard to things in general, yet are necessary to them, and with regard to any volition of theirs at that time ; as they prevent all acts of the will about the affair. 1 shall have occasion to apply this observation to particular instances in the following discourse. — Whether the same things that are necessary with a particular Necessity, be not also necessary with a general Necessity, may be a matter of future consideration. Let that be as it will, it alters not the case, as to the use of this distinc tion of the kinds of Necessity. These things may be sufficient for the explaining of the terms necessary and Necessity, as terms of art, and as often used by metaphysicians, and controversial writers in divinity, in a sense diverse from, and more extensive than their original meaning, in common language, which was before explained. What has been said to shew the meaning of the terms necessary and Necessity, may be sufficient for the explaining of the opposite terms, impossible and impossibility. For there is no difference, but only the latter are negative," and the former positive. Impossibility is the same as negative Neces sity, or a Necessity that a thing should not be. And it is used as a term of art in a like diversity from the original and vulgar meaning, with Necessity. The same may be observed concerning the words unable and Inability. It has been observed, that these terms, in their original and common use, have relation to will and endeavour, as supposable in the case, and as insufficient for the bringing to pass the thing willed and endeavoured. But as these terms are often used by philosophers and divines, especially writers on controversies about Free Will, they are used in a quite different, and far more extensive sense, and are applied to many cases wherein no will or endeavour for the bringing of the thing to pass, is or can be supposed. As the words necessary, impossible, unable, &c. are used by polemic writers, in a sense diverse from their common sig nification, the hke has happened to the term contingent. Any thing is said to be contingent, or to come to pass by chance or accident, in the original meaning of such words, when its connection with its causes or antecedents, according to the established course of things, is not discerned; ?ind so is what 32 FREEDOM OF TH^ WILL, PaRT I. we have no means of foreseeing. And especially is any thing said to be contingent, or accidental, with regard to us, when it comes to pass without our foreknowledg®) and beside our design and scope. ' ... But the word contingent Js abundantly used in a very dit- ferent sense ; not for that wliose connection with the series of things we cannot discern, so as to foresee the event, but for something which has absolutely no previous ground or reason, with which its existence has any fixed and certain connection. SECT. IV. Of the Distinction of natural and moral Necessity, and Inability. That Necessity vvhich has been explained, consisting in an infallible connection of the things signified by the subject and predicate of a proposition, as intelligent beings are the subjects of it, is distinguished into moral and natural Neces sity. I shall not now stand to enquire whether this distinction be a proper and perfect distinction ; but shall only explain how these two sorts of Necessity are understood, as the terms are sometimes used, and as they are used in the following dis course. The phrase, moral Necessity, is used variously ; sometimes it is used for a necessity of moral obligation. So we say, a man is under Necessity, when he is under bonds of duty and conscience, from which he cannot be discharged. Again, the word Necessity is often used for great obligation in point of interest. Sometimes by moral Necessity is meant that appa rent connection of things, which is the ground of moral evi dence ; and so is distinguished from absolute Necessity, or that sure connection of things, that is a foundation for infallible certainty. In this sense, moral Necessity signifies much the same as that high degree of probability, which is ordinarily sufficient to satisfy mankind, in their conduct and behaviour in the world, as they would consult their own safety and inte rest, and treat others properly as members of society. And sometimes by moral Necessity is meant that Necessity of con nection and consequence, which arises from such moral causes as the strength of inclination, or motives, and the connection which there is in many cases between these, and such certain volitions and actions. And it is in this sense, that I use the phrase, moral Necessity, in the following discourse. By natured Necessity, as applied to men, I mean such .Necessity as men are under through the force of natural Sect. tv. Of Natural and Moral Inability. 38 causes ; as distinguished from what are called moral causes, such as habits and dispositions of the heart, and moral motives and inducenients. Thus men placed in certain circumstanced, are the subjects of particular sensatioQs by Necessity : they feel pain when their bodies are wounded ; they see the objects presented before them in a clear light, when their eyes are opened : so they assent to the truth of certain propositions, as soon as the terms are understood ; as that two and two make four, that black is not white, that two parallel lines can never cross one another; so by a natural Necessity mens' bodies move downwards, when there is nothing to support them. But here several things may be noted concerning these two kinds of Necessity. 1. Moral Necessity may be as absolute, as natural Ne cessity. That is, the effect may be as perfectly connected with its moral cause, as a natural necessary effect is with its natural cause. Whether the Will in every case is necessarily determined by the strongest motive, or whether the Will ever makes any resistance to such a motivcj or can ever oppose the strongest present inclination, or not ; if that matter should be controverted, yet I suppose none will deny, but that, in some cases, a previous bias and inclination, or the motive presented, may be so powerful, that the act of the Will may be certainly and indissolubly connected therewith. When motives or pre vious bias are very strong, all will allow that there is some difficulty in going against them. And if they were yet stronger, the difficulty would be still greater. And therefore, if more were still ^dded to their strength, to a certain degree, it would make the difficulty so great, that it would be wholly impossible to surmount it ; for this plain reason, because what ever power men may be supposed to have to surmount difficulties, yet that power is not infinite ; and so goes not beyond certain limits. If a man can surmount ten degrees of difficulty of this kind with twenty degrees of strength, because the degrees of strength are beyond the degrees of difficulty ; yet if the difficulty be increased to thirty, or an hundred, or a thousand degrees, and his strength not also increased, his strength will be wholly insufficient to surmount the difficulty. As therefore it must be allowed, that there may be such a thing as a sure and perfect connection between moral causes and effects ; so this only is what I call by the name of moral Necessity. 2. When I use this distinction of moral and natural Ne cessity, I would not-be understood to suppose, that if any thing- come to pass by the former kind of Necessity, the nature of things is not concerned in it, as well as in the latter. I do not mean to determine, that when a moral habit or motive is so strong, that the act of the Will infallibly follows, this is not VOL, II. ^ 34 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PART !• owing to the nature of things. But natural and moraZ are the terms by which these two kinds of Necessity have usually l>een called; and they must be distinguished by some names, tor thereis a difference between them, that is very important in its consequences. Tliis difference, however, does not he so much in the nature of the connection, as in the two ternis con nected. The cause with which the effect is connected, is of a particular kind ; viz. that which is of a moral nature ; either some previous habitual disposition, or some motive exhibited to the understanding. And the effect is also of a particular kind; being likewise of a moral nature ; consistiijg in some inchnation or volition of the soul, or voluntary action. I suppose, that Necessity which is called raatora? in dis tinction from moral necessity, is so called, because mere nature as the word is vulgarly used, is concerned, without any thing of choice. The word nature is often used in opposition to choice ; not because nature has indeed never any hand in our choice ; but, probably, because we first get our notion of nature from that obvious course of events, which we observe in many things where our choice has no concern ; and especi ally in the material world ; which, in very many parts of it, we easily perceive to be in a settled course ; the stated order, and manner of succession, being very apparent. But where we do not readily discern the rule and connection,, (though there be a connection, according to an established law, truly taking place) we signify the manner of event by some other name. Even in many things which are seen in the material and inanimate world, which do not obviously come to pass according to any settled course, men do not call the manner of the event by the name of nature, but by such names as acci dent, chance, contingency, &c. So men make a distinction between nature and choice ; as if they were completely and universally distinct. Whereas, I suppose none will deny but that choice, ira mawj/ cases, arises from nature, as truly as other events. But the connection between acts of choice, and their causes, according to established laws, is not so obvious. And we observe that choice is, as it were, a new principle of mo tion and action, different from that established order of things which is most obvious, and seen especially in corporeal things. The choice also often interposes, interrupts, and alters the chain of events in these external objects, and causes them to proceed otherwise than they would do, if let alone! Hence it is spoken of as if it were a principle of motion entirely distinct from nature, and properly set jn opposition to it. Names being commonly given to things, according to what is most obvious, and is suggested by what appears to the senses without reflection and research. Sect. iv. Of Natural and Moral Inability. 35 3. It must be observed, that in what has been explained, as signified by the name of moral Necessity, the word Necessity is not used according to the original design and meaning of the word : for, as was observed before, such terms, necessary, impossible, irresistible. Sic. in common speech, and their most proper sense, are always relative ; having reference to some supposable voluntary opposition or endeavour, that is insuf ficient. But no such opposition, or contrary will and endeavour, is supposable in the case of moral Necessity ; which is a cer tainty of the inclination and will itself ; which does not admit of the supposition of a will to oppose and resist it. For it is absurd, to suppose the same individual will to oppose itself, in its present act ; or the present choice to be opposite to, and resisting present choice : as absurd as it is to talk of two con trary motions, in the same moving body, at the same time. — And therefore the very case supposed never admits of any trial, whether an opposing or resisting will can overcome this Necessity. What has been said of natural and moral Necessity, may serve to explain what is intended by natural and moral Ina bility. We are said to be naturally unable to do a thing, when we cannot do it if we will, because what is most com monly called nature does not allow of it, or because of some impeding defect or obstacle that is extrinsic to the will ; either in the faculty of understanding, constitution of body, or exter nal objects. Moral Inability consists not in any of these . things ; but either in the want of incliuEttion ; or the strength of a contrary inclination ; or the want of sufficient motives in view, to induce and excite the act of the will, or the strength of apparent motives to the contrary. Or both these may be resolved into one ; and it may be said in one word, that moral Inability consists in the opposition or want of inclination. For when a person is unable to will or choose such a thing, through a defect of motives, or prevalence of contrary motives, it is the same thing as his being unable through the want of an in clination, or the prevalence of a contrary inclination, in such circumstances, and under the influence of such views. To give some instances of this moral Inability. — A woman of great honour and chastity may have a moral Inability to prostitute herself to her slave. A child of great love and duty to his parents, may be thus unable to kill his father. A very lascivious man, in case of certain opportunities and tempta tions, and in the absence of such and such restraints, may be unable to forbear gratifying his lust. A drunkard, under such and such circumstances, may be unable to forbear taking strong drink. A very malicious man may be unable to exert benevolent acts to an enemy, or to desire his prosperity ; yea, some may be so under the power of a vile disposition, that 36 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. ' PaRT I. they may be unable to love those who are most worthy of their esteem and affection. A strong habit of virtue, ana a great degree of holiness, may cause a moral Inability to love wickedness in general, and may render a man unable to taKe complacence in wicked persons or things ; or to choose a wicK- ed, in preference to a virtuous life. And on the other hand, a great degree of habitual wickedness may lay a man under an Inability to love and choose holiness ; and render hiin utterly unable to love an infinitely holy Being, or to choose and cleave to him as his chief good. Here it may be of use to observe this distinction of moral Inability, viz. of that which is general and habitual, and that which is particular and occasional. By a general and habitual moral Inability, I mean an Inabihty in the heart to all exercises or acts of will of that kind, through a fixed and habitual incli nation, or an habitual and stated defect, or want of a certain kind of inclination. Thus a very ill-natured man may be un able to exert such acts of benevolence, as another, who is full of good nature, commonly exerts ; and a man whose heart is habitually void of gratitude, may he unable to exert grateful acts, through that stated defect of a grateful inchnation. By particular and occasional moral Inability, I mean an Inability of the will or heart to a particular act, through the strength or defect of present motives, or of inducements presented to the view ofthe understanding, on this occasion. If it be so, that the will is always determined by the strongest motive, then it must always have an InabiUty, in this latter sense, to act otherwise than it does ; it not being possible, in any case, that the will should, at present, go against the motive which has now, all things considered, the greatest advantage to induce it. The former of these kinds of moral Inabihty, is most commonly called by the name of Inability ; because the word, in its most proper and original signification, has respect to some stated defect. And this especially obtains the name of Inability also upon another account : — because, as before ob served, the word Inability in its original and most common use, is a relative term ; and has respect to will and endeavour, as supposable in the case, and as insufficient to bring to pass the thing desired and endeavoured. Now there may be more of an appearance and shadow of this, with respect to the acts which arise from a fixed and strong habit, than others that arise only from transient occasions and causes. Indeed will and endeavour against, or diverse from present acts ofthe will are in no case supposable, whether those acts be occasional or habitual ; for that would be to suppose the will, at present to tbe otherwise than, at present, it is. But yet there maybe Iwill and endeavour against future acts of the will, or volitions Ithat are likely to take place, as viewed at a distance. It is no Sect. iv. Of Natural and Moral Inability. 37 contradiction, to suppose thaf the acts of the will at one time, may be against the acts of the will at another time ; and there may be desires and endeavours to prevent or excite future acts of the will ; but such desires and endeavours are, in inany cases, rendered insufficient and vain, through fixedness of habit : when the occasion returns, the strength of habit' overcomes, and baffles all such opposition. In this respect, a man may be in miserable slavery and bondage to a strong habit. But it may be comparatively easy to make an altera- 1 tion with respect to such future acts, as are only occasional and transient ; because the occasion or transient cause, if foreseen, may often easily be prevented or avoided. On this account, the moral Inabihty that attends fixed habits, espe cially obtains the name of Inability. And then, as the will may remotely and indirectly resist itself, and do it in vain, in the case of strong habits ; so reason may resist present acts of the will, and its resistance be insufficient : and this is more commonly the case also, when the acts arise from strong habit. But it must be observed concerning moral Inability, in each kind of it, that the word Inability is used in a sense very diverse from its original import. The word signifies only a natural Inability, in the proper use of it ; and is applied to such cases only wherein a present will or inclination to the thing, with respect to which a person is said to be unable, is supposable. It cannot be truly said, according to the ordinary use of language, that a malicious man, let him be never so malicious, cannot hold his hand from striking, or that he is not able to shew his neighbour kindness ; or that a drunkard, let his appetite be never so strong, cannot keep the cup from his mouth. In the strictest propriety of speech, a man has a' thing in his power, if he has it in his choice, or at his elec tion : and a man cannot be truly said to be unable to do a thing, when he can do it if he will. It is improperly said, that a person cannot perform those external actions, which are de pendent on the act of the will, and which would be easily per formed, if the act of the will were present. And if it be im properly said, that he cannot perform those external voluntary actions, which depend on the will, it is in some respect more improperly said, that he is unable to exert the acts of the will themselves; because it is more evidently false, with respect to these, that he cannot if he will ; for to say so, is a down right contradiction : it is to say, he cannot will, -if he does will. And in this case, not only is it true, that it is easy for a man to do the thing if he will, but the very willing is the doing ; when once he has willed, the thing is performed ; and nothing else remains to be done. Therefore, in these things, to ascribe a non-performance to the want of power or ability, is not just ; 38 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT I- because the thing wanting is not a being able, but a being willing. There are faculties of mind, and a capacity ol nature, arid every thing else, sufficient, but a disposition : nothing is wanting but a will. * SECT. V. Concerning the Notion of Liberty, and of Moral Agency. The plain and obvious meaning of the words Freedom and Liberty, in common speech^ is The power, opportunity, or ad vantage that any one has, to do as he pleases. Or in other words, his being free frpm hinderance or impediment in the way of doing, or condii^cting in any respect as he wills.* And the contrary to Liberty, whatever name we call that by, is a person's being hindered or unable to conduct as he will, or be ing necessitated to do otherwise. If this which I have mentioned be the meaning of the word Liberty, in the ordinary use of language ; as I trust that none that has ever learned to talk, and is unprejudiced, will deny ; then it will follow, that in propriety of speech, neither Liberty, nor its contrary, can properly be ascribed to any be ing or thing, but that which has such a faculty, power, or pro perty, as is called will. For that vyhich is possessed of no will, cannot have any power or opportumty of doing according to its will, nor be necessitated to act contrary to its will, nor be restrained from acting agreeably to it. And therefore to talk of Liberty, or the contrary, as belonging to the very will it self, is not to speak good sense ; if we judge of sense, and nonsense, by the original and proper signification of words. — For the will itself is not an Agent that has a will : the power of choosing, itself, has not a power of choosing. That which has the power of volition is the man, or the soul, and not the power of volition itself. And' he that has the Liberty of doing according to his will, is the Agent who is possessed of the will ; and not the will which he is possessed of. We say with pro priety, that a bird let loose has power and liberty to fly ; but not that the bird's power of flying has a power and Liberty of flying. To be free is the property of an agent, who is pos sessed of powers and faculties, as much as to be cunning, valiant, bountiful, or zealous. But these qualities are the pro perties of persons ; and not the properties of properties. There are two things contrary to what is called Liberty * I say not only dmng,.hat cmductiiig ; because a voluntary forbearing to do sitting still, keeping silence, &c. are instances of persons' conduct, about whioh Liberty is exercised ; though they are not so properly called doing. Sect. v. Of Liberty and Moral Agency. 39 in common speech. One is constraint; otherwise called / force, compulsion, and coaction ; which is a person's being ne- ' cessitated to do a thing contrary to his will. The other is re- < straint ; which is, his being hindered, and not having power to do according to his will. But that which has no will can not be the subject of these things. — 1 need say the less on this head, Mr. Locke having set the same thing forth, with so great clearness, in his Essay on the Human Understand ing. But one thing more I would observe concerning what is vulgarly called Liberty ; namely, that power and opportunity for one to do and conduct as he will, or according to his choice, is all that is meant by it ; without taking into the meaning of the word, any thing of the cause of that choice ; or at all considering how the person came to have such a vo lition ; whether it was caused by some external motive, or internal habitual bias ; whether it was determined by some internal antecedent volition, or whether it happened without a cause ; whether it was necessarily connected with something foregoing, or not connected. Let the person come by his choice any how,^ yet, if he is able, and there is nothing in the way to hinder his pursuing and executing his will, the man is perfectly free, according to the primary and common notion of freedom. What has been said may be sufficient to shew what is meant by Liberty, according to the common notions of man kind, and in the usual and primary acceptation of the word : but the word, as used by Arminians, Pelagians and others, who oppose the Calvinists, has an entirely different significa tion, — These several things belong to their notion of Liberty. 1. That it consists in a self-determining power in the will, or a certain sovereignty the will has over itself, and its own acts, whereby it determines its own volitions ; so as not to be dependent in its determinations, on any cause without itself, nor determined by any thing prior tb its own acts. 2. Indif ference belongs to Liberty in their notion of it, or that the mind, previous to the act of volition, be in equilibria, 3. Con- tingence is another thing that belongs and is essential to it ; not in the common acceptation of the word, as that has been already explained, but as opposed to all necessity, or any fixed and certain connection with some previous ground or reason of its existence. They suppose the essence of Liberty so much to consist in these things, that unless the will of man be free in this sense, he has no real freedom, how much soever he may be at Liberty to act according to his will. A moral Agent is a being that is capable of those actions that have a moral quality, and which can properiy be deno- 40 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PART I. minated good or evil in a moral sense, virtuous or vicious, commendable or faulty. To moral Agency belongs a. moral faculty, or sense of moral good and evil, or of such a thing as desert or worthiness, of praise or blame, reward or punish ment ; and a capacity which an Agent has of being influenced in his actions by moral inducements or motives, exhibited to the view of understanding and reason, to engage to a conduct ' agreeable to the moral faculty. The sun is very excellent and beneficial in its actions and influence on the earth, in warming and causing it to bring forth its fruits ; but it is not a moral Agent : its action, though good, is not virtuous or meritorious. Fire that breaks out in- a city, and consumes great part of it, is very mis chievous in its operation ; but is not a moral Agent : what it does is not faulty or sinful, or deserving of any punishment. The brute creatures' are not moral Agents : the actions of some of them are very profitable and pleasant ; others are very hurtful : yet seeing they have no moral faculty, or sense of desert, and do not act from choice guided by understand ing, 'or with a capacity of reasoning and reflecting, but only from instinct, and are not capable of being influenced by moral inducements, their actions are not pioperly sinful or virtuous ; nor are they properly the subjects of any such moral treatment for what they do, as moral Agents are for their faults or good deeds. Here it may be noted, that there is a circumstantial dif ference between the moral Agency of a mler and a subject. 1 call it circumstantial, because it lies only in the difference of moral inducenients, by which they are capable of being in fluenced, arising from the difference of circumstances. A ruler acting in that capacity only, is not capable of being influen ced by a moral law, and its sanctions of threatenings and pro mises, rewards and punishments, as the subject is ; though both may be influenced by a knowledge of moral good and evil. And therefore the moral Agency of the Supreme Being, who acts only in the capacity of a ruler towards his crea tures, and never as a subject, differs in that r^pect from the moral Agency of created intelligent beings. , God's actions, and particularly those which he exerts as a moral governor, have moral qualifications, and are morally good in the highest degree. They are most perfectly holy and righteous ; and we must conceive of Him as influenced in the highest degree, by that which, above all others, is properly a moral inducement ; viz. the moral good which He sees in such and such things : and therefore He is, in the most proper sense, a moral Agent the source of all moral ability and Agency, the fountain and rule of all virtue and moral good ; though by reason of his being supreme over all, it is not possible He should be under Sect. V. Of Liberty and Moral Agency. 41 the influence of law or command, promises or threatenings, re wards or punishments, counsels or warnings. The essential qualities of a moral Agent are in God, in the greatest possible perfection ; such as understanding, to perceive the difference between moral good and evil ; a capacity of discerning that moral worthiness and demerit, by which some things are praiseworthy, others deserving of blame and punishment ; and also a capacity of choice, and choice guided by under standing, and a power of acting according to his choice or pleasure, and being capable of doing those things which are in the highest sense praiseworthy. And herein does very much consist that image of God wherein he made man, (which we read of Gen. i. 26, 27, and chap. ix. 6.) by which God distinguished man from the beasts, viz. in those faculties and principles of nature, whereby He is capable of moral Agency, Herein very much consists the natural image of God ; where as the spiritual and moral image, wherein man was made at first, consisted in that moral excellency with which he was endowed. VOL. Hi 42 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT U- PART IL WHEREIN IT IS CONSIDERED WHETHER THERE IS OR CAN BE ANY SUCH SORT OF FREEDOM OF WILL, AS THAT WHEREIN ARMINIANS PLACE THE ESSENCE OF THE LIBERTY OF ALL MORAL AGENTS ; AND WHETHER ANY SUCH THING EVER WAS OR CAN BE CONCEIVED OF. SECT. I. Shewing the manifest Inconsistence of the Arminian Notion of Liberty of Will, consisting in the WiWs self-determining Power. Having taken notice of those things which may be necessary to be observed, concerning the meaning of the principal terms and phrases made use of in controversies concerning human Liberty, and particularly observed what Liberty is according to the common language and general apprehension of mankind, and what it is as understood and maintained by Arminians ; I proceed to consider the Arminian notion of the Freedom of the Will, and the supposed necessity of it in order to moral agency, or in order to any one's being capable of virtue or vice, and properly the subject of command or counsel, praise or blame, promises or threatenings, rewards or punishments ; or whether that which has been described, as the thing meant by Liberty in common speech, be not suffi cient, and the only Liberty, which makes, or can make any one a moral agent, and so properly the subject of these things. In this Part, I shall consider whether any sueh thing be pos sible or conceivable, as that Freedom of Will which Arminians insist on ; and shall enquire, whether any such sort of Liberty be necessary to moral agency, &c. in the next Part. And first of all, I shall consider the notion o? a self-deter mining Power in the will : wherein, according to the Armi nians, does most essentially consist the Will's Freedom ; and shall particularly enquire, whether it be not plainly absurd, and a manifest inconsistence, to suppose that the will itself de termines all the free acts of the will. Sect. i. The Inconsistence of Arminian Liberty. 43 Here I shall not insist on the great impropriety of such ways of speaking, as the Will determining itself; because actions are to be ascribed to agents, and not properly to the powers of agents; which improper way of speaking leads to many mistakes, and much confusion, as Mr. Locke observes. But Ishall suppose that the Arminians, when they speak of the Will's determining itself, do by the Will mean the soul willing. I shall take it for granted, that when they speak of the Will, as the determiner, they mean the soul in the exer cise of a power of willing, or acting voluntarily. 1 shall suppose this to be their meaning, because nothing else can be meant, without the grossest and plainest absurdity. In all cases when we speak of the powers or principles of acting, or doing such things, we mean that the agents which have these Powers of acting, do them, in the exercise of those Powers. So when we say, valour fights courageously, we mean the man who is under the influence of valour fights courageously. When we say, love seeks the object loved, we mean, the person loving seeks that object. When we say the understanding discerns, we mean the soul in the exercise of that faculty. So when it is said, the will decides or determines, the meaning must be, that the person in the exercise of a Power of willing and choosing, or the soul acting voluntarily, determines. Therefore, if the Will determines all its own free acts, the soul determines them in the exercise of a Power of willing and choosing ; or, which is the same thing, it determines them of choice ; itdetermines its own acts, by choosing its own acts. If the Will determines the Will, then choice orders and deter mines the choice : and acts of choice are subject to the deci sion, and follow the conduct of other acts of choice. And therefore if the Will determines all its own free acts, then every free act of choice is determined by a preceding act of choice, choosing that act. And if that preceding act of the Will be also a free act, then by these principles, in this act too, the Will is self-determined : that is, this, in like manner, is an act that the soul voluntarily chooses ; or, which is the same thing, it is an act determined still by a preceding act of the Will, choosing that. Which brings us directly to a contradic tion : for it supposes an act of the Will preceding the first act in the whole train, directing and determining the rest ; or a free act of the Will, before the first free act of the Will. Or else we must come at last to an act of the Will, determin ing the consequent acts, wherein the Will is not self-deter mined, and so is not a free act, in this notion of freedom : but if the first act in the train, determining and fixing the rest, be not free, none of them all can be free ; as is manifest at first view, but shall be demonstrated presently. 44 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PahT U. If the Will, which we find governs the members of the body, and determines their motions, does also govern iteelt, and determines its own actions, it doubtless determines them the same way, even by antecedent volitions. The Will deterr mines which way the hands and feet shall move, by an act ot choice : and there is no other way of the Will's determining, directing or commanding any thing at all. Whatsoever the Will commands, it commands by an act ofthe Will. And if it has itself under its command, and determines itself in its own actions, it doubtless does it the same way that it deter mines other things which are under its comraand. So that if the freedom of the Will consists in this, that it has itself and its own actions under its command and direction, and its own volitions are determined by itself, it will follow, that every free volition arises from another antecedent volition, directing and commanding that : and if that diVech'ra^ vohtion be also free, in that also the Will is determined ; that is to say, that direct ing volition is determined by another going before that ; and so on Jtill we come to the first volition in the whole series : and if that first volition be free, and the Will self-determined in it, then that is determined by another vohtion preceding that. /Which is a contradiction ; because by the supposition it can have none before it, to direct or determine it, being the first in the train. But if that first volition is not determined by any preceding act of the Will, then that act is not determined by the Will, and so is not free in the Arminian notion of freedom, which consists in the Will's self-determination. And if that first act of the Wiil which determines and fixes the subse quent acts, be not free, none ofthe following acts, which are determined by it can be free. — If we suppose there are five acts in the train, the fifth and last determined by the fourth, and the fourth by the third, the third by the second, and the second by the first ; if the first is not determined by the Will, and so not free, then none of them are truly determined by the Will : that is, that each of them are as they are, and not other wise, is not first owing to the Will, but to the determination of the first in the series, which is not dependent on the Will, and is that which the Will has no hand in determining. And this being that which decides what the rest shall be, and determines their existence ; therefore the first determination of their existence is not from the Will. The case is just the same, if instead of a chain of five acts of the Will we should suppose a succession of ten, or an hundred, or ten thousand. If the first act be not free, being determined by something out of the Will, and this determines the next to be agreeable to itself, and that the next, and so on ; none of them are free but all originally depend on, and are determined by some cause' out of the Will: apd so all freedom in the case is excluded Sect. i. The Inconsistence of Arminian Liberty. 45 and no act ofthe Will can be free, according to this notion of freedom. If we should suppose a long chain of ten thousand links, so connected, that if the first link moves, it will move the next, and that the next ; and so the whole chain must be determined to motion, and in the direction of its motion, by the motion of the first link ; and that is moved by something else ; in this case, though all the links, but one, are moved by other parts of the same chain ; yet it appears that the motion of no one, nor the direction of its motion, is from any self- moving or self-determining Power in the chain, any more than if every link were immediately moved by something that did not belong to the chain. — If the will be not free in the first act, which causes the next, then neither is it free in the next, which is caused by that first act : for though indeed the will caused it, yet it did not cause it freely ; because the preceding act, by which it was caused, was not free. And again, if the will be not free in the second act, so neither can it be in the third, which is caused by that ; because, in like manner, that third was determined by an act of the will that was not free. And so we may go on to the next act, and from that to the next ; and how long soever the succession of acts is, it is all one ; if the first on which the whole chain depends, and which deter mines all the rest, be not a free act, the will is not free in causing or determining any one of those acts ; because the act by which it determines them all is not a free act ; and there fore the will is no more free in determining them, than if it did not cause them at all. — Thus, this Arminian notion of Liberty of the Will, consisting in the Will's Self-determina tion, is repugnant to itself, and shuts itself wholly out of the world. SECT. II. Several supposed Ways of evading the foregoing Reasoning, considered. If to evade the force of what has been observed, it should be said, that when the Arminians speak of the will determin ing its own acts, they do not mean that the will determines them by any preceding act, or that one act of the will deter mines another ; but only that the faculty or power of vvill, or the soul in the use of that power, determines its own volitions ; and that it does it without any act going before the act deter mined ; such an evasion would be full of the most gross absurdity. — I confess, it is an evasion of my own inventing ; and I do not know but I should wrong the Arminians, in sup posing that any of them would make use of it. But it being 46 FREEDOM OF THE WILL, PaRT H. as good a one as I can invent, I would observe upon it a few things. ,. First, If the power of the will determines an act ot voli tion, or the soul in Xhe use or exercise of that power, deternames it, that is the same thing as for the soul to determine vrolition by an act of will. For an exercise of the power of will, and an act of that power, are the same thing. Therefore to say, that the power of will, or the soul in the use or exercise of that power, determines vohtion, without an act of will precede' ing the volition determined, is a contradiction. Secondly, If a power of will determines the act of the will, then a power of choosing determines it. For, as was before observed, in every act of will, there is a choice, and a power of willing is a power of choosing. But if a power of choosing determines the act of volition, it determines it by choosing it. For it is most absurd to say, that a power of choosing determines one thing rather than another, without choosing any thing. But if a power of choosing determines volition by choosing it, then here is the act of volition determined by an antecedent choice, choosing that voli tion. Thirdly, To say, that the faculty, or the soul, determines its own volition, but not by any act, is a contradiction. Be cause for the soul to direct, decide, or determine any thing, is to act ; and this is supposed : for the soul is here spoken of as being a cause in this affair, doing something; or, which is the same thing, exerting itself in order to an effect, which effect is the determination of volition, or the particular kind and manner of an act of will. But certainly, this action is not the same with the effect, in order to the production of which it is exerted ; but must be something prior to it. The advocates for this notion of the freedom of the will, speak of a certain sovereignty in the will, whereby it has power to determine its own Volitions. And therefore the determina- tion of volition must itself be an act of the will ; for other wise it can be no exercise of that supposed power and sove reignty. Again, if the will determines itself, then either the will is active in determining its volitions, or it is not. If active, then the determination is an act of the will ; and so there is one act of the will determining another. But if the will is not active in the determination, then how does it exercise any li berty in it ? These gentlemen suppose that the thing wherein the will exercises liberty, is in its determining its own acts. But how can this be, if it be not active in determining ? Cer tainly the will, or the soul cannot exercise any liberty in that wherein it doth not act, or wherein it doth not exercise itself. So that if either part of this dilemma be taken, this scheme of liberty, consisting in self-determining power, is overthrown'. Sect. ii. Supposed Evasions considered. 47 If there be an act of the will in determining all its own free acts, then one free act of the will is determined by another ; and so we have the absurdity of every free act, even the very first, determined by a foregoing free act. But if there be no act or exercise of the will in determining its own acts, then no liberty is exercised in determining them. From whence it follows, that no liberty consists in the will's power to deter mine its own acts : or, which is the same thing, that there is no such thing as liberty consisting in a self-determining power of the will. J If it should be said. That although it be true, if the soul determines its own volitions, it must be active in so doing, and the determination itself must be an act ; yet there is no need of supposing this act to be prior to the vohtion determined ; but the will or soul determines the act of the will in willing ; it determines its own volition, in the very act of volition ; it directs and limits the act of the will, causing it to be so and not otherwise, in exerting the act, without any preceding act to exert that. If any should say after this manner, they must mean one of these three things : Either, (L.) That the deter mining act, though it be before the act determined in the or der of nature, yet is not before it in order of time. Or, (2.) That the determining act is not before the act determined, either in the order of time or nature, nor is truly distinct from it ; but that the soul's determining the act of volition is the same thing with its exerting the act of volition : the mind's ex erting such a particular act, is its causing and determining the act. Or, (3.) That volition has no cause, and is no effect ; but comes into existence, with such a particular determination, without any ground or reason of its existence and determina tion. — I shall consider these distinctly. (1.) If all that is meant, be, that the determining act is not before the act determined in order of time, it will not help the case at all, though it should be allowed. If it be before the determined act in the order of nature, being the cause or ground of its existence, this as much proves it to be distinct from, and independent on it, as if it were before in the order of time. As the cause of the particular motion of a natural body in a certain direction, may have no distance as to time, yet cannot be the same with the motion effected by it, but must be as distinct from it, as any other cause, that is before its effect in the order of time : as the architect is disfmct from the house which he builds, or the father distinct from the son which he begets. And if the act of the will deter mining be distinct from the act determined, and before it in the order of nature, then we can go back from one to another, till we come to the first in the series, which has no act of the will before it in the order of nature, determining it ; and con- 48 FREEDOM OF THE VVILL. PaRT II' sequently is an act not determined by the will, and so not a free act, in this notion of freedom. And this being the act whicft determines all the rest, none of them are free acts. As when there is a chain of many links, the first of which only is taken hold of and drawn by hand ; all the rest may follovv and be moved at the same instant, without any distance of time ; but yet the motion of one link is before that of another in the or der of nature ; the last is moved by the next, and that by the next, and so till we come to the first ; which not being moved by any other, but by something distinct from the whole chain, this as much proves that no part is moved by any self-moving power in the chain, as if the motion of one link followed that of another in the order of time. (2.) If any should say, that the determining act is not before the determined act, either in the order of time, or of nature, nor is distinct from it ; but that the exertion of the act is the determination of the act ; that for the soul to exert a particular volition, is for it to cause and determine that act of- volition : I would on this observe, that the thing in question seems to be forgotten, or kept out of sight, in a darkness and unintelligibleness of speech ; unless such an objector would mean to contradict himself. — The very act of volition itself is doubtless a determination of mind ; i. e. it is the mind's draw ing up a conclusion, or coming to a choice between two or more things proposed to it. But determining among external objects of choice, is not the same with determining the act of choice itself, among various possible acts of choice. — The question is. What influences, directs, or determines the mind or will to come to such a conclusion or choice as it does 1 Or what is the cause, ground or reason, why it concludes thus, and not otherwise ? Now it must be answered, according to the Arminian notion of freedom, that the will influences, or ders and determines itself thus to act. And if it does, I say, it must be by some antecedent act. To say, it is caused, in fluenced and determined by something, and yet not determin ed by any thing antecedent, either in order of time or nature, is a contradiction. For that is what is meant by a thing's be ing prior in the order of nature, that it is some way the cause or reason of the thing, with respect to which it is said to be prior. If the particular act or exertion of will, which comes into existence, be any thing properly determined at all, then it has some cause of existing, and of existing in such a particular determinate manner, and not another ; some cause, whose in fluence decides the matter : which cause is distinct from the effect, and prior to it. But to say, that the will or mind orders influences and determines itself to exert an act by the very ex ertion itself, is to make the exertion both cause and effect • .Sect. ii. Supposed Evasions considered, 49 or the exerting such an act, to be a cause of the exertion of such an act. For the question is. What is the cause and rea son of the soul's exerting such an act ? To which the answer is. The soul exerts such an act, and that is the cause of it. And so, by this, the exertion must be distinct from, and in thc order of nature prior to itself. (3.) If the meaning be, that the soul's exertion of such a particular act of will, is a thing that comes to pass of itself, without any cause ; and that there is absolutely no reason of the soul being determined to exert such a volition, and make such a choice, rather than another ; I say, if this be the mean ing of Arminians, when they contend so earnestly for thc will determining its own acts, and for liberty of will consist ing in self-determining power ; they do nothing but confound themselves and others with words without a meaning. In the question. What determines the will? and in their answer, that the will determines itself, and in all the dispute, it seems to be taken for granted, that something determines the will ; and the controversy on this head is not, vvhether its determination has any cause or foundation at all ; but where the foundation of it is, whether in the will itself, or somewhere else. But if the thing intended be what is above-mentioned, then nothing at all determines the will ; volition having absolutely no cause or foundation of its existence, either within, or without. There is a great noise made about self-determining power, as the source of all free acts of the will : but when the matter comes to be explained, the meaning is, that no power at all is the source of these acts, neither self-determining power, nor any other, but they arise from nothing ; no cause, no power, no influence, being at all concerned in the matter. However, this very thing, even that the free acts of the will are events which come to pass without a cause, is certainly implied in the Arminian notion of hberty of will ; though it be very inconsistent with many other things in their scheme, and repugnant to some things implied in their notion of liberty. Their opinion implies, that the particular determination of vo lition is without any cause ; because they hold the free acts of the will to be contingent events ; and contingence is essential to freedom in their notion of it. But certainly, those things which have a prior ground and reason of their particular exis tence, a cause which antecedently determines them tobe, and determines them to be just as they are, do not happen contin gently. If something foregoing, by a c^,^l influence and connection, determines and fixes precisely their coming to pass, and the manner of it, then it does not remain a contin gent thing whether they shall come to pass or no. And because it is a question in many respects very im- portant in this controversy, Whether the free 'trt.'s of fhf will VOL. ir. 7 50 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT II- are events which come to pass without a cause ? I shall be particular in examining this point in the two following sections. SECT. III. Whether any Event whatsoever, and Volition in particular, can come to pass without a Cause of its existence. Before I enter on any argument on this subject, I would explain how 1 would be understood, when I use the word Cause in this discourse ; since, for want of a better word, I shall have occasion to use it in a sense which is more exten sive, than that in which it is sometimes used. The word is often used in so restrained a sense as to signify only that which has apositive efficiency or influence to prodwce a thing, or bring it to pass. But there are many things which have no such positive productive influence : which yet are Causes in this respect, that they have truly the nature of a reason why some things are, rather than others ; or why they are thus, rather than otherwise. Thus the absence of the sun in the night, is not the Cause of the fall of dew at that time, in the same manner as its beams are the Cause of the ascent of vapours in the day-time ; and its withdrawment in the winter, is not in the same manner the Cause of the freezing of the waters, as its approach in the spring is the cause of their thawing. But yet the withdrawment or absence of the sun is an antecedent, with which these effects in the, night and winter are connected, and on which they depend ; and is one thing that belongs to the ground and reason why they come to pass at that time, rather than at other times ; though the absence of the sun is nothirig positive, nor has any positive influence. It may be further observed, that when I speak of connec tion of Causes and Effects, I have respect to moral Causes, as well as those which are called natural in distinction from them. Moral Causes may be Causes in as proper a sense, as any Causes whatsoever ; may have- as real an influence, and may as truly be the ground and reason of an Event's coming to Therefore I sometimes use the word Cause, in this en quiry, to signify any antecedent, either natural or moral, posi tive or negative, on which an Event, either a thing, or the manner and circumstance of a thing, so depends, that it is the ground and reason, either in whole, or in part, why it is, rather than not ; or why it is as it is, rather than otherwise ': or in other words, any antecedent with which a consequent Event is so connected, thatit truly belongs to the reason why the propo- Sect. m. No Event without a Cause. 51 sition which affirms that Event, is true ; whether it has any posi-| tive influence, or not. And agreeably to this, I sometimes use the word effect for the consequence of another thing, which is perhaps rather an occasion than a Cause, most properly speaking. I am the more careful thus to explain my meaning, that I may cut off occasion, from any that might seek occasion to cavil and object against some things which I may say concern ing the dependence of all things which come to pass, on some Cause, and their connection with their Cause. Having thus explained what I mean by Cause,! assert that nothing ever conies to pass without a Cause. What is self-existent must be from eternity, and must be unchangeable : but as to all things that begin to be, they are not self-existent, and therefore must have some foundation of their existence without themselves. That whatsoever begins to be, which before was not, must have a Cause why it then begins to exist, seems to be the first dictate of the common and natural sense which God hath implanted in the minds of all mankind, and the main foundation of all our reasonings about the ex istence of things, past, present, or to come. And this dictate of common sense equally respects sub stances and modes, or things, and the manner and circum stances of things. Thus, if we see a body which has hitherto been at rest, start out of a state of rest, and begin to move, we do as naturally and necessarily suppose there is some Cause, or reason of this new mode of existence, as of the existence of a body itself which had hitherto not existed. And so if a body, which had hitherto moved in a certain direction, should sud denly change the direction of its motion ; or if it should put off its old figure, and take a new one ; or change its colour : the beginning of these new modes is a new Event, and the human mind necessarily supposes that there is some Cause or reason of them. If this grand principle of common sense be taken away, all arguing from Effects to Causes ceaseth, and so all knowledge of any existence, besides what we have by the most direct and immediate intuition, particularly all our proof of the be ing of God ceases : we argue His being from our own being, and the being; of other things, which we are sensible once were not, but have begun to be ; and from the being of the world, with all its constituent parts, and the manner of their exist ence ; all which we see plainly are not necessary in their own nature, and so not self-existent, and therefore must have a Cause. But if things, not in tiiemselves necessary, may begin to be without a Cause, all this arguing is vain. Indeed, I will not affirm, that there is in the nature of things no foundation for the knowledge of the Being of God, •52 ' FHEEDOJI OF THE WILL. I'Ail* '^'^' without any evidence of it from his works. I do suppose there is a great absurdity in denying Being in general, and imagining an eternal, absolute, universal nothing : and there fore that there would be, in the nature of things, a foundation of intuitive evidence, that there must be an eternal, infinite, most perfect Being ; if we had strength and comprehension of mind sufficient, to have a clear idea of general and universal Being. But then we should not properly come to the know ledge of the Being of God by arguing ; our evidence would be intuitive : we should see it, as we see. other things that are necessary in themselves, the contraries of which are in their own nature absurd and contradictory,; as we see that twice two is four ; and as we see that a circle has no angles. If we had as clear an idea of universal, infinite entity, as we have of these other things, I suppose we should most intuitively see the absurdity of supposing such Being not to be ; should im mediately see there is no room for the question, vvhether it is possible that Being, in the most general, abstracted notion of it, should not be. But we have not that strength and extent of mind, to know this certainly in this intuitive, independent manner : but the way that mankind come to the knowledge of the Being of God, is that which the apostle speaks of, Rom. i. 20. The invisible things of him, from the creation ofthe world, are clearly seen ; being understood by the things-that are made; even his eternal poiver and Godhead. We first ascend, and prove a posteriori, or from effects, that there must be an eter nal Cause ; and then secondly, prove by argumentation, not intuition, that this Being must be necessarily existent ; and then thirdly, from the proved necessity of his existence, we may descend, and prove many of his perfections a priori.* But if once this grand principle of common sense be * To the inquirer after tmth it may here be recommended, as a matter of some consequence, to keep in mind the precise difference between an argument a ynorj and one o posteriori, a distinction of considerable use, as well as of long standing among divines, metaphysicians, and logical writers. An arguraent from either of these, when legiHmatel-y applied, niay amount to a demonstration, when used, for instance, relatively to the being and perfections of God ; but the one should be confined to the existence of Deity, whde the other is applicable to his perfectiaas. By the argument a posteriori we xise fram the effect tothe cause, from' the stream to the fountain, from what is posterior to what is prior ; in other words, from what is contingent to what is absolute, from number to unity ; that is, frora the -numi- festttlion of God to his existence. By the argument a priori we descend fi-njn the cause to the efiect, from the fountain to thc stream, from what is pri&r to what is posterior ; that is, from the necessary existence of God we safely infer certain properties and perfections. To attempt a demonstration ofthe existence ofa first cause, or the Being of God a priori, would be most absurd ; for it would be an at tempt to prove a prior ground or cause of existence of a first cause ; or that there ia some cause befpre tlie very first. The argument a primi, therefore, is not appij- cMe to prove the divine easteiux. For this end, |he argument a posteriori alone is legitimate ; and its conclusiveness rests on this axiom, that " there can be -no effect wUhmt a cause."— The absurdity of denying this axiom is abundantlv Ap. monstratcd by our author. W, "uauuy ae Sect. III. No Event without a Cause. 53 given up, that what is not necessary in itself, must have a Cause ; and we begin to maintain, that things which heretofore have not been, may come into existence, and begin to be of them selves, without any cause ; all our means of ascending in our arguing from the creature to the Creator, and all our evidence of the Being of God, is cut off at one blow. In this case, we cannot prove that there is a God, either from the Being ofthe world, and the creatures in it, or from the munner of their be ing, their order, beauty and use. For if things may come in to existence without any Cause at all, then they doubtless may without any Cause answerable to the efiect. Our minds do alike naturally suppose and determine both these things ; namely, that what begins to be has a Cause, and also that it has a cause proportionable to the effect. The same principle which leads us to determine, that there cannot be any thing coming to pass without a Cause, leads us to determine that there cannot be more in the effect than in the cause. Yea, if once it should be allowed, that things may come to pass without a Cause, we should not only have no proof of the Being of God, but we should be without evidence of the existence of any thing whatsoever, but our own immediately present ideas and consciousness. For we have no way to prove any thing else, but by arguing from effects to Causes : fiom the ideas now immediately in view, we argue other things not immediately in view ; from sensations now excited in us, we infer the existence of things without us, as the Causes of these sensations ; and from the existence of these things, we argue other things, on which they depend^ as effects on Causes. We infer the past existence of ourselves, or any thing else, by memory ; only as we argue, that the ideas, which are now in our minds, are the consequences of past ideas and sensations. We immediately perceive nothing else but the ideas which are this moment extant in our minds. We perceive or know other things only by means of these, as necessarily connected with others, and dependent on them. But if things may be without Causes, all this necessary con nection and dependence is dissolved, and so all means of our knowledge is gone. If there be no absurdity or difficulty in supposing one thing to start out of non-existence into being, of itself without a Cause ; then there is no absurdity or diffi culty in supposing the same of milhons of milhons. For no thing, or no difficulty multiplied, still is nothing, or no difficul ty : nothing multiplied by nothing, does not increase the sum. And indeed, according to the hypothesis I am opposing, of the acts of the will coming to pass without a Cause, it is the cajSse in fact, that millions of millions of Events are con tinually coming into existence contingently, without any Cause or reason why they do so, all over the world, every day and iVi FREEDOM OF THE WILL, PaRT, H. hour, through all ages. So it is in a constant succession, in every moral agent. This contingency, this efficient nothing, this effectual No Cause, is always ready at hand, to produce this sort of effects, as long as the agent exists, and as often as he has occasion. If it were so, that things only of one kind, viz. acts ot the will, seemed to come to pass of themselves; and it were an event that was continual, and that happened in a course, wherever were found subjects capable of such events ; this very thing would demonstrate that there was some Cause of them, which made such a difference between this Event and others, and that they did not really happen contingently. For contingence is bhnd, arid does not pick arid choose a particular sort of Events. Nothing- has no choice. This No-Cause, which causes no existence, cannot cause the existence which comes to pass, to be of one particular sort only, distinguished from all others. Thus, that only one sort of matter drops out of the heavens, even water, and that this comes so often, so constantly and plentifully, all over the world, in all ages, shows that there is some Cause or Reason of the falling of water out of the heavens ; and that something besides mere contingence has a hand in the matter. If we should suppose Non-entity to be about to bring forth; and things were coming into existence, without any Cause or Antecedent, on which the existence, or kind, or manner of existence depends ; or which could at all determine whether the things should be stones, or stars, or beasts, or angels, or human bodies, or souls, or only some new motion or figure in natural bodies, or some new sensations in animals, or new ideas in the human understanding, or new volitions in the will ; or any thing else of all the infinite number of pos sibles ; then certainly it would not be expected, although many millions of milhons of things were coming into existence in this manner, all over the face of the earth, that they should all be only of one particular kind, and that it should be thus in all ages, and that this sort of existences should never fail to come to pass where there is room for them, or a subject capable of them, and that constantly, whenever there is occa sion, . ¦(,,,. If any should imagine, there is something in the sort of Event that renders it possible for it to come into existence without a cause, and should say, that the free acts of the will are existences of an exceeding different nature from other things : by reason of which they may come into existence without any previous ground or reason of it, though other things cannot : if they make this objection in good earnest it would be an evidence of their strangely forgetting themselves ¦ for they would be giving an account of some ground of the ex- Sect, ivr. Volition not without a Cause. 55 istence of a thing, when at the same time they would maintain there is no ground of its existence. Therefore I would observe, that the particular nature of existence, be it never so diverse from others, can lay no foundation for that thing coming into existence without a cause : because to suppose this, would be to suppose the particular nature of existence to be a thing prior to the existence, and so a thing which makes way for existence, without a cause or reason of existence. But that which in any respect makes way for a thing coming into being, or for any manner or circumstance of it? first existence, must be prior to the existence. The distinguished nature of the effect, which is something belonging to the effect, cannot have influence backward, to act before it is. The peculiar nature of that thing called volition, can do nothing, can have no influence, while it is not. And after wards it is too late for its influence : for then the thing has made sure of existence already, without its help. So that it is indeed as repugnant to reason, to suppose that an act of the will should come into existence without a cause, as to suppose the human soul, or an angel, or the globe of the earth, or the whole universe, should come into existence with out a cause. And if once we allow, that such a sort of effect as a Volition may come to pass without a Cause, how do we know but that many other sorts of effects may do so too ? It is not the particular kind of effect that makes the absurdity of supposing it has being without a Cause, but something which is common to all things that ever begin to be, viz. That they are not self-existent, or necessary in the nature of things. SECT. IV. Whether Volition can arise ivithout a Cause through the Activity ofthe Nature ofthe Soul. The author of the Essay on the Freedom of the Will in God and the Creatures, in answer to that objection against his doctrine of a self-determining power in the will, (p. 68 — 69,) That nothing is, or comes to pass, without a sufficient reason, why it is, and why it is in this manner rather than another, allows that it is thus in corporeal things, which are properly and phi losophically speaking, passive being; but denies it is thus in spirits, which are beings of an^ active nature, who have the spring of action within themselves, and can determine themselves. By which it is plainly supposed, that such an event as an act of the will, may come to pass in a spirit, without a sufficient reason why it comes^ to pass, or why it is after this manner. 56 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT «. rather than another. But certainly this author, in this matter, must be very unwary and inadvertent. For, I. The objection or difficulty proposed byhim seems to be forgotten in his answer or solution. The very difficulty, as he himself proposes it, is this : How an event can come to pass without a sufficient reason why it is, or why it is in this manner rather than another? Instead of solving this difficulty, with regard to Volition, as he proposes, he forgets himself, and an swers another question quite diverse, viz. What is a sufficient reason -why it is, and why it is in this manner rather than another ? And he assigns the active being's own determination as the Cause, and a Cause sufficient for the effect ; and leaves all the difficulty unresolved, even. How the soul's own deter mination, which he speaks of, came to exist, and to be what it was, without a Cause ? The activity of the soul may enable it to be the Cause of effects ; but it does not at all enable it to be the subject of effects which have no Cause; which is the thing this author supposes concerning acts of the will. Activity of nature will no more enable a being to produce effects, and determine the manner of their existence, within itself, without a Cause, than out q/" itself, in some other being. But if an ac tive being should, through its-activity, produce and determine an effect in some external object, how absurd would it be to say, that the effect was produced without a Cause I 2. The question is not so much. How a spirit endowed vvith activity comes to act, as why it exerts such an act, and not another ; or why it acts with such a particular determina tion? If activity of nature be the Cause why a spirit (the soul of man, for instance) acts, and does not lie still ; yet that alone is not the Cause why its action is thus and thus limited, direct ed and determined. Active nature is a general thing ; it is an ability or tendency of nature to action, generally taken ; which" may be a Cause why the soul acts as occasion or reason is given ; but this alone cannot be a sufficient Cause why the soul exerts such a particular act, at such a time, rather than others. In order to this, there must be something besides a general tendency to action ; there must also be a particular tendency to that individual action. — If it should be asked, why, the soul of man uses its activity in such a manner as it does ; and it should be answered-, that the soul uses its activity thus, rather than otherwise, because it has activity ; would such an answer satisfy a. rational man ? Would it not rather be looked upon as a very impertinent one ? 3. An active being can bring no effects to pass by his ac tivity, but what are consequent upon his acting : he produces nothing by his activity, any other way than by the exercise of his activity, and so nothing but the fruits' of its exercise : he brings nothing to pass by a dormant activity. But the exer- Sect. iv. Volition not without a Cause. 57 cise of his activity is action ; and so Ijis action, or exercise of his activity, must be prior to the effects of his activity. If an active being produces an effect in another being, about which his activity is conversant, the effect being the fruit of his ac tivity, his activity must bo first exercised or exerted, and the effect of it niust follow. So it must be, with equal reason, if the active being is his own object, and his activity is conversant about himself, to produce and determine some effect in him self; still the exercise of his activity must go before the effect, vvhich he brings to pass and determines by it. And therefore his activity cannot be the Cause of the determination of the first action, or exercise of activity itself, whence the effects of activity arise; for that would imply a contradiction ; it would be to say, the first exercise of activity is before the first exer cise of activity, and is the Cause of it, 4, That the soul!, though an active substance, cannot diversify its own acts, but by first acting ; or be a determining Cause of different acts, or any different effects, sometimes of one kind, and sometimes of another, any other way than in consequence of its own diverse acts, is manifest by this ; that if so, then the same Cause, the same casual Influence, without variation in any respect, would produce different effects at dif ferent times. For the same substance of the soul before it acts, and the same active nature of the soul before it is exert ed, i. e. before in the order of nature, would be the Cause of different effects, viz. Different Volitions at different times. But the substance of the soul before it acts, and its active na ture before it is exerted, are the same without variation. For it is some act that makes the first variation in the Cause, as to any causal exertion, force or influence. But if it be so, that the soul has no different causality, or diverse causal influence, in producing these diverse effects ; then it is evident, that the soul, has no influence in the diversity of the effect; and that the difference of the effect cannot be owing to any thing in the soul ; or which is the same thing, the soul does not determine the diversity of the effect ; which is contrary to the supposi tion. It is true, the substance of the soul before it acts, and before there is any difference in that respect, may be in a different state and circumstances : but those vwhom I oppose, will not allow the different circumstances of the soul to be the determining Causes of the acts of the will ; as being contrary to their notion of self-determination. 5. Let us suppose, as these divines do, that there are no acts of the soul, strictly speaking, but free volitions ; then it will follow, that the soul is an active being in nothing further than it is a voluntary or elective being ; and whenever it pro duces effects actively, it produces effects voluntarily and elec tively. But to produce effects thus, is the sarae thing as te VOL.. ir. 8 5S FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT If' produce effects in consequence of, and according to its own choice. And if so, then surely the soul does not by its ac tivity produce all its own acts of will or choice themselves; for this, by the supposition, is to produce all its free acts ot choice voluntarily and electively, or in consequence of its ovvn free -acts of choice, which brings the matter directly to the forementioned contradiction, of a free act of choice before the first free act of choice.— According to these gentlemen's own notion bf action, if there arises in the mind a Volition without a free act of the will to produce it, the mind is not the volun tary Cause of that Vohtion ; because it does not arise from, nor is regulated by choice or design. And therefore it can not be, that the mind should be the active, voluntary, deter mining Cause of the first and leading Volition that relates to the affair, — The mind being a designing Cause, only enables it to produce effects in consequence of its design ; it will not enable it to be the designii^g Cause of all its own designs. The mind being an elective iCause, will enable it to produce effects only in consequence of its elections, and according to them V but cannot enable it4o be the elective Cause of all its own elections ; because that supposes an election before the first election. So the mind being an active Cause enables it to produce effects in consequence of its own acts, but cannot enable it to be the determining Cause of all its own acts ; for that is, in tbe same manner, a contradiction ; as it supposes a determining act conversant about the first act, and prior to it, having a causal influence on its existence, and manner of existence. I can conceive of nothing else that can be meant by the soul having power to cause and determine its own Volitions^ Its a being to whom God has given a power of action, but this; that God has given power to the soul, sometimes at least, to excite Volitions at its pleasure, or according as it chooses. And this certainly supposes, in all such cases, a choice preceding all Volitions which, are thus caused, even the first of them. Which runs into the forementioned great absurdity. Therefore the activity ofthe nature ofthe soul affords no relief from the difficulties with which the notion of a self-de termining power in the will is attended, nor will it help in the - least, its absurdities and inconsistencies. Sect. v. These Evasions Impertinon. 6f) SECT. V. Shewing, that if the things asserted in these Evasions should be supposed to be true, they are altogether impertinent, and cannot help the cause of Arminian Liberty ; and how, this being the state of the case, Arminian Writers are obliged to talk inconsistently. What was last observed in the preceding section, may shew — not only that the active nature ofthe soul cannot be a reason why an act of the will is, or why it is in this manner rather than another, but also — that if it could be proved, that volitions are contingent events, their being and manner of being not fixed or determined by any cause, or any thing ante cedent ; it would not at all serve the purpose of Arminians, to establish their notion of freedom, as consisting in the will's determination of itself, which supposes every free act of the will to be determined by some act of the will going before ; inasmuch as for the will to determine a thing, is the same as for the soul to determine a thing by willing ; and there is no way that the will can determine an act of the will, than by willing that act of the will, or, which is the same thing, choosing it. So that here must be two acts of the will in the case, one going before another, one conversant about the other, and the latter the object of the former, and chosen by the former. If the will does not cause and determine the act by choice, it does not cause or determine it at all ; for that which is not determined by choice, is not determined volun tarily or willingly : and to say, that the will determines some thing which the soul does not determine willingly, is as much as to say, that something is done by the will, which the soul doth not with its will. So that if Arminian liberty of will, consisting in the will determining its own acts, be maintained, the old absurdity and contradiction must be maintained, that every free act of will is caused and determined by a foregoing free act of will. — Which doth not consist with the free acts arising without any cause, and being so contingent, as not to be fixed by any thing foregoing. So that this evasion must be given up, as not at all relieving this sort of liberty, but directly destroying it. And if it should be supposed, that the soul determines its ovvn acts of will some other way, than by a foregoing act of will ; still it will not help their cause. If it determines them by an act of the understanding, or some other power, then the will does not determine itself; and so the self-4etermining 60 FREEDOM OF THE WILL'. PaRT U. power of the will is given up. And what liberty is there ex- ereised, according to their own opinion of liberty, by the soul. being determined by something besides its own, choice ? ihe acts of the will, it is true, may be directed, and effectually de termined and fixed ; but it is not done by the soul's own will and pleasure : there is no exercise at all of chpice or will in producing the effect ; and if will and choice are not exer cised in it, how is the liberty of the will exercised in it ? So that let Arminians twin which way they please with their notion of liberty, consisting in the will determining its own acts, their notion destroys itself. If they hold every free act of will to be determined by the soul's own free choice, or foregoing free act of will ; foregoing, either in the order of time, or natures it imphes that gross contradiction, that the first free act belonging to the affair, is determined by a free act which is before it. Or if they say, that the free acts of the will are determined by some other act of the soul, and not an act of will or choice ; this also destroys their notion of liberty consisting in the acts of the will being determined by the wm itself; or if they hold that the acts of the will are determined by notMng at all that is prior to them, but that tljey are con tingent in that sense, that they are determined and fixed by no cause at all ; this also destroys their notion of liberty, consist ing in the will determining its own acts. This being the true state of the Arminian notion of liberty, the writers who defend it are forced into gross incon sistencies, in what they say upon this subject. To instance in Dr. Whitby ; he, in his discourse on the freedom of the will,* (.opposes the opinion of the CaZutmsts, who place man's liberty mnly in. a power of doing what he will, as that wherein they f plainly agree with Mr. Hobbes. And yet he himself mentions the very same notion of liberty, as the dictate of the sense and common reason of mankind, and a rule laid down by the light of nature : viz. that liberty is a power of acting from ourselves, or DOING WHAT WE wiLL.t This is indeed, as he says, a thing agreeable to the sense and common reason of mankiftd ; and therefore it is not so much to be wondered at, that he unawares acknowledges it against himself: for if liberty does not consist in this, what else can be devised that it should con sist in ? If it be said, as Dr. Whitbv elsewhere insists, that it does not only consist in liberty of doing what we wUl, but also a liberty of willing without necessity ; still the questipn re turns, vyhat does that liberty of willing without necessity consist in, but in a power of willing as we please, without be ing impeded by a contrary necessity? or in other words, aliber- * Jn his Book dn the five Points, Second Edit. p. 350, .351 3152 t Ibid. p. 32.5, 32P. Sect. v. These Evasions Impertinent. 61 ty for the soul in its willing to act according to its own choice ? Yea, this very thing the same author seems to ai!ow, and sup pose again and again, in the use he jnakes of sayings of the Fathers, whom he quotes as his vouchers. Thus he cites the words of Origen, which he produces as a testimony on his side ; * " The soul acts by her own choice, and it is free for her to incline to whatever part she will." And those words of Justin Martyr ;T "The doctrine of the Christians is this, that nothing is done or suffered according to fate, but that every man doth good or evil according to his own FREE CHOICE." And from Eusebius, these words ; J "If fate be established, philosophy and piety are overthrown, — All these things depending upon the necessity introduced by the stars, and not upon meditation and exercise proceeding from OUR OWN FREE CHOICE." And again, the words of Macca- rius ; II " God to preserve the liberty of man's will, suffered their bodies to die, thatit might be in their choice' to tum to good or evil." — " They who are acted by the Holy Spirit, are not held under any necessity, but have liberty to turn them selves, and DO WHAT they will in this life.'''' Thus, the doctor in effect comes into that very notion of liberty, which the Calvinists have ; which he at the same time condemns, as agreeing with the opinion of Mr. Hobbes, namely, " The soul acting by its own choice, men doing good or evil accord ing to their own free choice, their being in that exercise which proceeds from their own free choice, having it in their choice to turn to good or evil, and doing what they will." So that if men exercise this liberty in the acts of the will themselves, it must be in exerting acts of will according to their own free choice ; or, exerting acts of will that proceed from their choice. And if it be sp, then let every one judge whether this does not suppose a free choice going before the free act of will, or whether an act of choice does not go before that act of the will which proceeds from it. And if it be thus with all free acts of the will, then let every one judge, whether it will not fol low that there is a free choice going before the first free act of the will exerted in the case ! And finally, let every one judge whether in the scheme of these writers there be any possibility of avoiding these absurdities. If hberty consists, as Dr. WHiTBvhimself says, ina man's doing vjhat he will ; and a man exercises this liberty, not only in external actions, but in the acts of the will themselves ; then so far as liberty is exercised in the latter, it consists in willing what he wills ; and if any say so, one of these two things must be meant, either, 1. That a man has power to will, * Ibid. p. 342. 1 Ibid. p. 360. j: Ibid. 363. II In his Book on the five Points, Second Edit. p. 369, 370. 62 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PART II. as he does will ; because what he wills, he wills ; and therefore power to will what he has power to will. If this be their meaning, then all this mighty controversy about freedom of the will and self-determining power, comes wholly to nothing; all that is contended for being no more than this, that the mind of man does what it does, and is the subject of what it is the subject, or that what is, is ; wherein none has any controversy with them. Or, 2. The meaning riiiust be, that a man has power to will as he chooses to will : that is, he has power by one act of choice, to choose another ; by an antecedent act of will to choose a consequent act ; and therein to execute his own choice. And if this be their meaning, it is nothing but shuffling with those they dispute with, and baffling their own reason. For still the question returns, wherein lies man's liberty in that antecedent act of will which chose the conse quent act. The answer according to the same principles must be, that his liberty in this also lies in his willing as he would, or as he chose, or agreeable to another act of choice preceding that. And so the question returns in infinitum, and the lik^ answer must be made in infinitum : in order to support their opinion, there must be no beginning, but free acts of will must have been chosen by foregoing free acts of will in the soul of every man, without beginning. SECT. VI.. Concerning the Will determining in Things whicii are perfectly indifferent, in the View of the Mind. A great argument for self-determining power, is the sup posed experience we universally have of an ability to deter mine our Wills, in cases wherein no prevailing motive is presented : the Will, as is supposed, has its choice to make between two or more things, that are perfectly equal in the view of the mind ; and the Will is apparently altogether in different ; and yet we find no difficulty in coming to a choice ; the Will can instantly determine itself to one, by a sovereign power which it has over itself, without being moved by any preponderating inducement. Thus the fore-mentioned author of an Essay on the Free-; dom of the Will, ^c. (p. 25, 26, 27.) supposes, " That there are many instances, wherein the Will is determined neither by present uneasiness, nor by the greatest apparent good, nor by the last dictate of the understanding, nor by any thing else, but merely by itself, as a sovereign self-determining power of the soul ; and that the soul does not will this or that action, in some cases, by any other influence but because it will. Thus Sect. VI. Of choosing in Things indifferent. 63 says he, I can turn my face to the South, or the North ; I can point with my finger upward or downward. — And thus, in some cases, the Will determines itself in a very sovereign manner, because it will, without a reason borrowed from the understanding : and hereby it discovers its own perfect power of choice, rising from within itself, and free from all influence or restraint of any kind." And (p. 66, 70, 73, 74,) this author very expressly supposes the Will in many cases to be deter mined by no motive at all, and acts altogether without motive, or ground of preference. — Here I would observe, 1. The very supposition which is here made, directly contradicts and overthrows itself. For the thing supposed, wherein this grand argument consists, is, that among several things the Will actually chooses one before another, at the same time that it is perfectly indifferent ; which is the very same thing as to say, the mind has a preference, at the same time that it has no preference. What is meant cannot be, that the mind is indifferent before it comes to have a choice, or until it has a preference ; for certainly this author did not imagine he had a controversy with any person in supposing this. Be sides, it appears in fact, that the thing which he supposes, is — not that the Will chooses one thing before another, concerning which it is indifferent before it chooses, but that the will is in different when it chooses ; and that it being otherwise than indifferent is not until afterwards, in consequence of its choice; that the chosen thing appearing preferable, and more agree able than another, arises from its choice already made. His words are (p. 30.) " Where the objects which are proposed, appear equally fit or good, the Will is left without a guide or director ; and therefore must take its own choice, by its own determination; it being properly a self-determining power. And in such cases the will does as it were make a good to itself by its own choice, i. e. creates its own pleasure or delight in this self-chosen good. Even as a man by seizing upon a spot of unoccupied land, in an uninhabited country, makes it his own possession and property, and as such rejoices in it. Where things were indifferent before, the will finds nothing to make them more agreeable, considered merely in them selves, but the pleasure it feels arising from its own choice, and its perseverance therein. We love many things which we have chosen, and purely because we chose them." This is as much .as to say, that we first begin to prefer many things, purely because we have preferred and chosen them before. — These things must needs be spoken inconside rately by this author. Choice or preference cannot be before itself in the same instance, either in the order of time or nature : It cannot be the foundation of itself, or the conse- /]uence of itself. The very act of choosing one thing rather 64 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PART II, than another, is preferring that thing, and that is setting a higher value on that thing. But that the mind sets a higher value on one thing than another, is not, in the first place, the fruit of its setting a higher value on that thing. This author says, (p. 36.) " The will may be perfectly indifferent, and yet the will may determine itself to choose one or the other." And again, in the same page, " I am entirely indifferent to either ; and yet my Will may determine itself to choose." And again, " Which I shall choose must be de termined by the mere act of my will." If the choice is deter mined by a mere act of Will, thert the choice is determined by a mere act of choice. And concerning tbis matter, viz. That the act of the Will itself is determined by an act of choice, this writer is express, (p. 72,) Speaking of the case, where there is no superior fitness in objects presented, he has these words : " There it must act by .its own choice, and determine itself as it pleases," Where it is supposed that the very determination, which is the ground and spring of the Will's act, is an act of choice and pleasure, wherein one act is more agreeable than another ; and this preference and superior pleasure is the ground of all it does in the case. And if so, the mind is not indifferent when it determines itself, but had rather determine itself one way than ariother. And therefore the Will does riot act at all in indifference ; not so much as in the first step it takes. If it be possible for the understanding. to act in indifference, yet surely the Will never does ; be cause the Will beginning to act is the very same thing as it beginning to choose or prefer. And if in the very first act of the Will, the mind prefers something, then the idea of that thing preferred, does at that time preponderate, or prevail in the mind : or, which is the same thing, the idea of it has ,a prevailing influence on the Will. So that this wholly destroys the thing supposed, viz. That the mind can by a sovereign power choose one of two or more things, which in the view of the mind are, in every respect, perfectly equal, one of which does not at all preponderate, nor has any prevailing influence on the mind above another. So that this author, in his grand aJ•g^lment for the ability of the Will to choose one of twO or more things, concerning « which it is perfectly indifferent, does at the same time, in effect, deny the thing he supposes, even that the Will, in choosing, is subject to no prevailing influence of the view of the thing chosen. And indeed it is impossible to offer this argument without overthrowing it ; the thing supposed in it being that which denies itself. To suppose the Will to act at all in a state of perfect indifference, is to assert that the mind chooses without choosing. To say that when it is indifferent, it can do as it pleases, is to say that it can follow its pleasure, Sect, vi. Of choosing in things Indifferent, 65 when it has no pleasure to follow. And therefore if there be any difficulty in the instances of two cakes, or two eggs, &c. vvhich are exactly alike, one as good as another ; concerning which this author supposes the mind in fact has a choice, and so in effect supposes that it has a preference ; it as much con cerned himself to solve the difficulty, as it does those whom he opposes. For if these instances prove any thing to his purpose, they prove that a man chooses without choice. And yet this is not to his purpose ; because if this is what he asserts, his own words are as much against hira, and does as much contradict him, as the words ofthose he disputes against Can do. 2. There is no great difficulty in shewing, in such in stances as are alledged, not only that it must needs be so, that the mind must be influenced in its choice by something that has a pieponderating influence upon it, but also how it is so. A little attention to our own experience, and a distinct consi deration of the acts of our own minds, in such cases, will be sufficient to clear up the matter. Thus, supposing I have a chess-board before me ; and because I am required by a superior, or desired by a friend, or on some other consideration, I am determined to touch some one of the spots or squares on tha board with my finger. Not being lihiited or directed, in the first proposal, to any one io particular ; and there being nothing in the squares, in them selves considered, that recommends any one of all the sixty- four, more than another ; in this case, my mind determines to give itself up to what is vulgarly called accident,* by deter mining to touch that square which happens to be most in view, which my eye is especially upon at that moment, or which happens to be then most in my mind, or which I shall be directed to by some other such like accident. Here are several steps of the mind proceeding (though all may be done, as it were, in a moment) the first step is its general determina tion that it will touch one of the squares. The next step is another general determination to give itself up to accident, in some certain way ; as to touch that which shall be most in the eye or mind at that time, or to some other such like accident. The third and last step is a particular determination to touch a certain individual spot, even that square, which by that sort of accident the mind has pitched upon, has actually offer ed itself beyond others. Now it is apparent that in none of these several steps does the m.ind proceed in absolute indif- * I have elsewhere observed, what that is which is vulgarly cuMed accident ; that is nothing akin to the Arminian metaphysical notion of contingence, or somo- tliing not connected with any thing foregoing ; but that it is something thgt comes to pass in the course of thinga, unforese'on by men, aYid not owing to their design. VOL. II. 9 66 freedom of the will. Part il. ference, but in each of them is influenced by a preponderat ing inducement. So it is in the first step, the mind's general determination to touch one of the sixty-four spots : the mind is not absolutely indifferent whether it does so or no ; it is in duced to it, for the sake of making some experiment, or by the desire of a friend, or some other motive that prevails. So it is in the second, step, the mind determining to give itself up to accident, by touching that which shall be most in the eye, or the idea of which shall be most prevalent in the mind, fee. The mind is not absolutely indifferent whether it proceeds by this rule or no ; but chooses it, because it appears at that time a convenient and requisite expedient in order to fulfil the general purpose. And so it is in the third and last step, which is determining to touch that individual spot which ac tually does prevail in the mind's view. The mind is not in different concerning this ; but is influenced by a prevailing inducement and reason ; which is, that this is a prosecution of the preceding determination, which appeared requisite, and was fixed before in the second step. Accident will ever serve a man, without hindering a moment in such a case. Among a number of objects in view, one will prevail in the eye, or in idea beyond others. When we have otir eyes open in the clear sun-shine, many objects strike the eye at once, and innumerable images may be at once painted in it by the rays of light ; but the attention of the mind is not equal to several of them at once ; or if it be, it does not continue so for any time. And so it is with respect to the ideas of the mind in general : several ideas are not in equal strength in the mind's view and notice at once ; or at least, do not remain so for any sensible continuance. There is nothing in the world more constantly varying, than the ideas of the mind ; they do not remain precisely in the same state for the least perceivable space of time ; as is evi dent by this : — That all time is perceived by the mind, only by the successive changes of its own ideas. Therefore while the perceptions of the mind remain precisely in the same state, there is no perceivable length of time, because no sensible succession at all. As the acts of the Will, in each step of the forementioned precedure, do not come to pass without a particular cause, but every act is owing to a pre,yailing inducement; so the accident, as I have called it, or ithat which happens in the unsearchable course of things, to which the mind yields it self, and by which it is guided, is not any thing that comes to pass without a cause. The mind in determining to be guided by it, is not determined by something that has no cause ; any more than if it be determined to be guided by a lot, or the casting of a die. For though the die falling in such Sect. vi. Of choosing of Things indifferent. 67 a manner be accidental to him that casts it, yet none will sup pose that there is no cause why it falls as it does. The invol untary changes in the succession of our ideas, though the cause may not be observed, have as much a cause, as the changea ble motions ofthe motes that fioat in the air, or the continual, infinitely various, successive changes of the unevennesses on the surface of the water. There are two things especially, which are probably the occasions of confusion in the minds of them who insist upon it, that the will acts in a proper indifference, and without being moved by any inducement, in its determinations in such cases as have been mentioned.* 1. They seem to mistake the point in question, or at least not to keep it distinctly in view. The question they dispute about, is. Whether the mind be indifferent about the objects presented, one of which is to be taken, touched, pointed to, fee. as tvvo eggs, two cakes, which appear equally good. Whereas the question to be considered, is, Whether the per son be indifferent with respect to his own actions ; whether he does not, on some consideration or other, prefer one act with respect to these objects before another. The mind in its de termination and choice, in these cases, is not most immediately and directly conversant about the objects presented ; but the acts to be done concerning these objects. Thc objects may appear equal, and the mind may never properly make any choice between them ; but the next act of the Will being about the external actions to be performed, taking, touching, fec- these may not appear equal, and one action may properly be chosen before another. In each step of the mind's progress, the determination is not about the objects, unless indirectly and improperly, but about the actions, which it chooses for other reasons than any preference of the objects, and for rea sons not taken at all from the objects. There is no necessity of supposing, that the mind does ever at all properly choose one of the objects before another ; either before it has taken, or afterwards. Indeed the man chooses to take or touch one rather than another ; but not be cause it chooses the thing taken, or touched ; but from foreign considerations. The case may be so, that of two things offered, a man may, for certain reasons, prefer taking that which he undervalues, and choose to neglect that which his mind pre- * The reader is particularly requested to give due attention to these two re marks, especially the former, as being of the utmost importance in the controversy. If he be pleased to examine, with this view, the most popular advocates for the Uberty of indifference, he will find them continually confounding the objects of choice, and the acts of choice. When they have shewn, with much plausibility, that there is no perceivable difference, or ground of choice, in the o6;ecb, they has tily infer the same indiflerence as applicable to the atis of choice. W. 68 FREEDOM OF THE WILL, pAHT It. fer6. In such a case, choosing the thing taken, and choosing to take, are diverse : and so they are in a case where the things' presented are equal in the "mind's esteem, and neither of them preferred. All that fact and experience makes evi dent, is, that the mind chooses one action rather than another. And therefore the arguments which they bring, in order to be to their purpose, should be to prove that the mind chooses the action in perfect indifference, with respect to that action ; and not to prove that the mind chooses the action in perfect indif ference with respect to the object ; which is vefy possible, and yet the will not act at all without prevalent inducement, and proper preponderation. 2. Another reason of confusion and difficulty in this mat ter, seems to be, not distinguishing between a general indif ference, or an indifference with respect to what is to be done in a more distant and general view of it, and a particular indif ference, or an indifference with respect to the next immediate act, viewed with its particular and present cirqumstances. A man may be perfectly indifferent with respect to his own actions, in the former respect ; and yet not in the latter. Thus in the foregoing instance of touching one of the squares of a chess-board ; when it is first proposed that I should touch one of them, I may be perfectly indifferent which I touch ; be cause as yet I view the matter remotely and generally, being but in the first step of the mind's progress in the affair. But yet, when I am actually come to the last step, and the very next thing to be determined is which is to be touched, having already determined that 1 will touch that which happens to be most in my eye or mind, and my mind being now fixed on a particular one, the act of touching that, considered thus im mediately, and in these particular present circumstances, is not what my mind is absolutely indifferent about. SECT. VH. Concerning the notion of Liberty of Will, consisting in Indif ference. What has been said in the foregoing section, has a ten dency in some measure to evince the absurdity of the opinion of such as place Liberty in Indifference, or in that equilibrium whereby the Will is without all antecedent bias ; that the determination of the Will to either side may be entirely from Itself, and that it may be owing only to its own power, and /^^-^/^ ^^) ^^ {^-z^-t^ -^o^- ^-i.^,^.^ .^^^ iiS^^S^^'zi'iW' ^^ ^ii^^^ Sect. VII. Of Liberty of Indifference. $9 the sovereignty which it has over itself, that it goes this way rather than that.* But in as much as this has been of such long standing, and has been so generally received, and so much insisted on by Pelagians, Semi- Pelagians, Jesuits, Socinians, Arminians, and others, it may deserve a more full consideration. And therefore I shall now proceed to a more particular and thorough enquiry into this notion. Now lest some should suppose that I do not understand those that place Liberty in Indifference, or should charge me with misrepresenting their opinion, I would signify, that I am sensible, there are some, who, when they talk of Liberty of the WiU as consisting in Indifference, express themselves as though they would not be understood to mean the In difference of the inclination or tendency of the will, but an Indifference of the soul's power of wilhng ; or that the Will, with respect to its power or ability to choose, is indifferent, can go either way indifferently, either to the right hand or left, either act or forbear to act, one as well as the other. This indeed seems to be a refining of some particular writers only, and newly invented, which will by no means consist with the manner of expression used by the defenders of Liberty of Indifference in general. I wish such refiners would thoroughly consider, whether they distinctly know their own meaning, when they make a distinction between an Indiffer ence of the soul as to its power or ability of choosing, and the soul's Indifference as to the preference or choice itself; and whether they do not deceive themselves in imagining that they have any distinct meaning at afl. The indifference of the soul as to its ability or power to will, must be the same thing as the Indifference of the state of the power or faculty of the Will, or the Indifference of the state which the soul itself, which has that power or faculty, hitherto remains in, * Dr. Whitby, and some other Arminians, make a distinction of different kinds of freedom; one of God, and perfect spirits above; another of persons in a state of trial. The former Dr. Whitby allows to consist with necessity ; the latter he holds to be without necessity : and this latter he supposes to be requisite to our being the subject of praise or dispraise, rewards or punishments, precepts and prohibitions, promises and threats, exhortations and dehortations, and a cove nant-treaty. And to this freedom he supposes Indifference to be requisite. In his Discourse on the five points, (p. 299, 300) he says ; " It is a freedom (speak ing of a freedom not only from co-action, but from necessity) requisite, as we con ceive, to render us capalile of trial or probation, and to render our actions worthy of praise or dispraise, and our persons of rewards or punishments." And in the next page, speaking ofthe sarae matter, he says, " Excellent to this purpose, are the words of Mr. Thorndake : We say not, that InSfference is requisite to . and Mic. v, 1. This cruelty of men was their sin, and what they acted as moral Agents, It was foretold, that there should be an union of Heathen and Jewish rulers against Christ, {Psal. ii, 1,2, compared with Acts iv, 25, — 28,) It was foretold, that the Jews should generally reject and despise the Messiah, Isai. xlix. 5, 6, 7. and hii. 1, — 3. Psal. xxii. 6, 7. and Ixix. 4, 8, 19, 20.) And it was foretold, that the body of that nation should be rejected in the Messiah's days, from being God's people, for their obstinacy in sin ; {Isai. xlix, 4,-7, and viii, 14, 15, 16, compared with Rom. X. 19, and /sm, Ixv, at the beginning, compared with Rom. X, 20, 21,) It was foretold, that Christ should be re jected by the chief priests and rulers among the Jews {Psalm cxviii. 22. compared with Matt. xxi. 42. Acts iv. 11. 1 Pet. ii. 4' '^•) Christ himself foretold his being delivered into the hands of the elders, chief priests and scribes, and his being cruelly treated by them, and condemned to death ; and that He by them should be delivered to the Gentiles : and that He should be mocked and scourged, and crucified, {Matt. x\'i. 21. and xx. 17, — 19. iwAeix. 22. JpAre viii. 28.) and that the people should be concerned in and consenting to his death, {Luke xx, 13, — 18,) especially the Inhabitants of Jerusalem ; (Luke xiii. .33 — 35,) He foretold, that the disciples should all be offended be cause of Him, that night in which he was betrayed, and should forsake him; {Matt. xxvi. 31. John xvi. 32.) He foretold that He should be rejected of that generation, even the body ofthe people, and that they should continue obstinate to their ruin; {Matt. xii. 45. xxi. 33, — 42. and xxii. 1, — 7. Luke xiii. 16, 21, 24. xvii. 25. xix. 14, 27, 41,-44, xx. 13,-18. and xxiii. 34,-39.) As it was foretold in both the Old Testament and the New that the Jews should reject the Messiah, so it was fore told that the Gentiles should receive Him, and so be admitted to the privileges of God's people ; in places too many to be now particularly mentioned. It was foretold in the Old Testa ment, that the Jews should envy the Gentiles on this account ; {Deut. xxxii. 21. compared with Rom. x. 19.) Christ himself often foretold, that the Gentiles would embrace the true reli gion, and become his followers and people ; {Matt viii. 10, 11, 12, xxi. 41,-43. and xxh. 8,-10. Luke xiii. 28. xiv. 16,-24. and XX. 16. John x. 16.) He also foretold the Jews' envy of the Gentiles on this occasion ; {Matt. xx. 12, — 16. Luke xv. 26, to the end.) He foretold, that they should continue in this oppo sition and envy, and should mainifest it in the cruel persecutions 104 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT II, of his followers, to their utter destruction ; {Matt, xxi, 33, — 42. xxii. 6. and xxiii. 34,-39. Luke xi. 49,-51.) The obstinacy ofthe Jews is also foretold, {Acts xxii. 18.) Christ often fore told the great persecutions his followers should meet with, both from Jews and Gentiles; {Matt. x. 16,— 18, 21,22, 34,— 36, and xxiv, 9, Mark xiii, 9, Luke x, 3, xii, 11, 49, — ^53, and xxi, 12, 16, 17, John xv, 18,-21, and xvi, 1,-^, 20,-22, 23,) He foretold the martyrdom of particular persons ; {Matt. xx. 23. John xiii. 36. and xxi. 18, 19, 22.) He foretold the great success of the Gospel in the city of Samaria, as near ap proaching; which afterwards was fulfilled by the preaching of Philip, {John iv. 35,--38.) He foretold the rising of many deceivers after his departure, (Ma^^ xxiv. 4, 5, 11,) andthe apostacy of many of his professed followers ; {Matt xxiv. 10, 12.) The persecutions, which the apostle Paul was to meet with in the world, were foretold ; Acts ix, 16. xx. 23, and xxi. 11.) The apostle says to the Christian Ephesians, Acts xx. 29, 30.) " I know, that after my departure shall grievous wolves enter in among you, not sparing the flock ; also of your own selves shall men arise, speaking perverse things, to draw away disciples after them." The apostle says. He knew this: but he did not know it, if God did not know the future actions of moral Agents. 4. Unless God foreknows the future acts of moral Agents, all the prophecies we have in Scripture concerning the great ¦ Antichristian apostacy ; the rise, reign, wicked qualities, and deeds of "the man of sin," and his instruments and adherents; the extent and long continuance of his dominion, his influence on the minds of princes and others, to corrupt them, and draw them away to idolatry, and other foul vices ; his great and cruel persecutions ; the behaviour of the saints under these great temptations, &c. &c.-^I say, unless the Volitions of moral Agents are foreseen, all these prophecies are uttered without knowing the things foretold. The predictions relating to this great apostacy are all of a moral nature, relating to men's virtues and vices, and their exercises, fruits and consequences, and events depending on them, and are very particular; and most of them often repeat ed, with many precise characteristics, descriptions, and limita tions of qualities, conduct, influence, effects, extent, duration, periods, circumstances, final issue, &c. which it would be tedious to mention particularly. And to suppose that all these are predicted by God, without any certain knowledge of the future moral behaviour of free Agents, would be to the utmost degree absurd. 5. Unless God foreknows the future acts of men's wills, and their behaviour as moral Agents, all those great things Sect. xi. God foreknows our Volitions. 105 which are foretold both in the Old Testament and the New, concerning the erection, establishment and universal extent of the Kingdom of the Messiah, were predicted and promised while God was in ignorance whether any of these things would come to pass or no, and did but guess at them. For that kingdom is not of this world, it does not consist in things ex ternal, but is within men, and consists in the dominion of virtue in their hearts, in righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost; and in these things made inanifest in practice, to the praise and glory of God. The Messiah came to save men from their sins, and deliver them from their spi ritual .enemies ; that they might serve him in righteousness and holiness before him: "he gave himself for us, thathe might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works." And therefore his success consists in gaining men's hearts to virtue, in their being made God's willing people in the day of his power. His conquest of his enemies consists in his victory over men's corruptions and vices. And such a victory, and such a dominion is of ten expressly foretold : that his kingdom shall fill the earth ; that all people, nations and languages should serve and obey him ; and so that all nations should go up to the mountain of the House of the Lord, that he might teach them his ways, and that they might walk in his paths ; and that all men should be drawn to Christ, and the earth be full of the know ledge of the Lord (true virtue and religion) as the waters cover the seas ; that God's laws should be put into men's inward parts, and written in their hearts ; and that God's people should be all righteous, &c, &;c, A very great part of the Old Testament prophecies is ta ken up in such predictions as these, — And here I would ob serve, that the prophecies of the universal prevalence of the kingdom of the Messiah, and true religion of Jesus Christ, are delivered in the miost peremptory manner, and confirmed by the oath of God, Isai. xiv, 22, to the end, " Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth ; for I am God, and there is none else. I have sworn by my Self, the word is gone out of my mouth in righteousness, and shall not return, that unto Me every knee shall bow, and every tongue shall swear. Surely, shall one say, in the Lord have I righteous ness and strength : even to Him shall men come," &c. But, here, this peremptory declaration and great oath of the Most High, are delivered with such mighty solemnity, respecting things which God did not know, if he did not certainly foresee the Volitions of moral Agents. And all the predictions of Christ and his apostles, to the like purpose, must be without knovvledge : as those of our Saviow comparing the kingdom of God to a graifl of iriustard-seed. VOL. II. 14 106 FREEDOM OP THE WILL. PaRT U. growing exceeding great from a small beginning ; and to lea ven, hid in three measures of meal, until the whole was leaven ed, &c. — And the prophecies in the epistles concerning the re storation of the Jewish nation to the true church of God, and bringing in the fulness of the Gentiles ; and the prophecies in all the Revelation concerning the glorious change in the moral state of the world of mankind, attending the destruction of Antichrist, " the kingdoms of the world becoming the king doms of our Lord and ofhis Christ ;" and its being granted to the church to be " arrayed in that fine linen, white and clean, which is the righteousness of saints," &c. Corel. 1. Hence that great promise and oath of God to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, so much celebrated in Scripture, both in the Old Testament and the New, namely, " That in their seed all the nations and famihes of the earth should be blessed," must be made on uncertainties, if God does not certainly foreknow the Volitions of moral Agents. For the fulfilment of this promise consists in that success of Christ in the work of redemption, and that setting up of his spiritual kingdom over the nations of the world. Which has been spoken of. Men are " blessed in Christ" no otherwise than as they are brought to acknowledge Him, trust in Him, love and serve Him, as is represented and predicted in Psal. Ixxii. 11. "All Kings shall fall down before Him ; all nations shall serve Him." With ver. 17. " Men shall be blessed in Him ; all nations shall call Him blessed." This oath to Jacob and Abraham is fulfilled in subduing men's iniquities ; as is implied in that of the pro phet Micah, chap. vii. 19, 20. Carol. 2. Hence also it appears, that the first gospel- promise that ever was made to mankind, that great prediction of the salvation of the Messiah, and his victory over Satan,^ made to our first parents, {Gen. iii. 15.) if there be no certain prescience of the Volitions of moral Agents, must have no Defter foundation than conjecture. For Christ's victory over Satan consists in men's being saved from sin, and in the victory of virtue and hohness over that vice and wickedness which, Satan by his temptations has introduced, and wherein his king dom consists. 6. If it be so, that God has not a prescience of the future actions of moral Agents, it will follow, that the prophecies of Scripture in general are without Foreknowledge. For Scrip ture prophecies, almost all of them, if not universally, are either predictions of the actings and behaviour of moral Agents, or of events depending on them, or some way con nected with them ; judicial dispensations, judgments on men for their v^ickedness, or rewards of virtue and righteousness, remarkable tnanife^ations of favour to the righteous, or mani festations of sovereign raercy to sinners, forgiving their iniqui- Sect. XI. God foreknows our Volitions. IGT ties, and magnifying the riches of divine Grace ; or dispen sations of Providence, in some respect or other, relating to the conduct of the subjects of God's moral government, wisely adapted thereto ; either providing for what should be in a future state of things, through the Volitions and voluntary actions of moral Agents, or consequent upon them, and regu lated and ordered according to them. So that all events that are foretold, are either moral events, or others which are con nected with, and accommodated to them. That the predictions of Scripture in general must be without knowledge, if God does not foresee the Volitions of men, will further appear, if it be considered, that almost all events belonging to the future state of the world of mankind, the changes and revolutions which come to pass in empires, kingdoms, and nations, and all societies, depend, in ways innumerable, on the acts of men's wills ; yea, on an innumer able multitude of millions of Volitions. Such is the state and course of things in the world of mankind, that one single event, which appears in itself exceeding inconsiderable, may, in the progress and series of things, occasion a succession of the greatest and most important and extensive events ; causing the state of mankind to be vastly different from what it would otherwise have been, for all succeeding generations. For instance, the comiiig into existence of those particular men, who have been the great conquerors of the world, which, under God, have had the main hand in all the consequent state of the world, in all after-ages; such as Nebuchadnezzar, Cyrus, Alexander, Pompey, Julius Csesar, &c. undoubtedly depended on many milhon of acts of the will, in their parents. And perhaps most of these Volitions depended on millions of Volitions in their contemporaries of the same generation ; and most of these on millions of millions of Volitions in preceding generations. — As we go back, still the number of Volitions, which were some way the occasion of the event, multiply as the branches of a river, until they come at last, as it were, to an infinite number. This wiU not seem strange to any one who well considers the matter ; if we recollect what philosophers tell us of the innumerable multitudes of those things which are the principia, or stamina vita, concerned in generation ; the animalcula in semen masculo, and the ova in the womb of the female ; the impregnation, or animating of one of these in distinction from all the rest, must depend on things infinitely minute relating to the time and circumstances of the act of the parents, the state of their bodies, &c. which must depend on innumerable foregoing circumstances and occurrences ; which must depend, infinite ways, on foregoing acts of their wills; which are occasioned by innumerable things that happen in the course of their lives, in which their own, and tOS FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PART Ll. their neighbour's behaviour must have a hand an infinite number of ways. And as the Volitions of others must be so many ways concerned in the conception and birth of such men ; so no less, in their preservation and circumstances of life, their particular determinations and actions, on which the great revolutions they were the occasions of depended. As, for instance, when the' conspirators in Persia against the Magi were consulting about a succession to the empire, it came into the mind of one of them to propose, that he whose horse neighed first, when they came together the next morning, should be king. Now, such a thing coming into his mind, might depend on innumerable incidents, wheVein the Volitions of mankind- have been concerned. But, in consequence of this accident, Darius, the son of Hystaspes, was king. And if this had not been, probably his successor would not have been the same, and all the circumstances of the Per sian empire might have been far otherwise : Then perhaps Alexander might never have conquered that empire ; and then probably the circumstances of the world in all succeeding ages, might have been vastly otherwise. I might further instance in many other occurrences ; such as those on which depended Alexander's preservation in the many critical junc tures of his life, wherein a small trifle would have turned, the scale against him ; and the preservation and success, of the Roman people, in the infancy of their kingdom and common' wealth, and afterwards ; upon which all the succeeding changes in their state, and the mighty revolutions that afterwards came to pass in the habitable world, depended. But these hints may be sufficient for every discerning considerate person, to convince him that the vvhole state of the world of mankind in all ages, and the very being of every person who has ever hved in it, in every age, since the times of the ancient prophets, has depended on more Volitions, or acts of the wills of men, than there are sands on the sea-shore. And therefore, unless God does most exactly and per fectly foresee the future acts of men's wills, all the predic tions which he ever uttered concerning David, Hezekiah, Josiah, Nebuchadnezzar, Cyrus, Alexander; concerning the four monarchies, and the revolutions in thera ; and concerning all the wars, commotions, victories, prosperity and calamities, of any kingdoms, nations or communities in the world, have all been without knowledge. So that, according to this notion, God not foreseeing the "Volitions and free actions of men, he could foresee nothing appertaining to the state of the world of mankind in future ages ; not so much as the being of one person that should Bve in it ; and could foreknow no events, but only such as he would bring to pass Himself by the extraordinary interposi- Sect. xi. God foreknows our Volitions. 109 tion of his immediate power ; or things which should come to pass in the natural material world, by the laws of motion, and course of nature, vvherein that is independent on the actions or works of mankind : that is, as he might, like a very able mathematician and astronomer, with great exactness calculate the revolutions of the heavenly bodies, and the greater wheels of the machine of the external creation. And if we closely consider the matter, there will appear reason to convince us, that he could not, with any absolute certainty, foresee even these. As to the first, namely, things done by the immediate and extraordinary interposition of God's power, these cannot be foreseen, unless it can be foreseen when there shall be occasion for such extraordinary interpo sition. And that cannot be foreseen, unless the state of the moral world can be foreseen. For whenever God thus inter poses, it is with regard to the state of the moral world, requir ing such divine interposition. Thus God could not certainly foresee the universal deluge, the calhng of Abraham, the de struction of Sodom and Gomorrah, the plagues on Egypt, and Israel's redemption out of it, the expelling of the seven nations of Canaan, and the bringing Israel into that land ; for these all are represented as connected with things belonging to the state of the moral world. Nor can God foreknow the most proper and convenient time of the day of judgraent and gene ral conflagration ; for that chiefly depends on the course and state of things in the moral world. Nor, Secondly, can we on this supposition reasonably think, that God can certainly foresee what things shall come to pass in the course of things, in the natural and material world, even those which in an ordinary state of things might be calculated by a good astronomer. For the moral world is the end of the natural world ; and the course of things in the former, is undoubtedly subordinate to God's designs with re spect to the latter. Therefore he has seen cause, from regard to the state of things in the moral world, extraordinarily to in terpose, to interrupt, and lay an arrest on the course of things in the natural world ; ahd unless he can foresee the Vohtions of men, and so know something of the future state of the mo ral world. He cannot know bul that he may still have as great occasion to interpose in this manner, as ever he had : nor can He foresee how, or when, He shall have occasion thus to inter pose. Corol. 1. It appears from the things observed, that un less God foresees the Volitions of moral Agents, that cannot be true which is observed by the apostle James, (Acts xv. 18.) " Known unto God are all his works from the beginning of the world." 110 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT II, Corol. 2. It appears, that unless God foreknows the Vo litions of moral Agents, all the prophecies of Scripture have no better foundation than mere conjecture ; and that, in most instances, a conjecture which must have the utmost uncer tainty ; depending on an innumerable multitude of Vohtions, which are all, even to God, uncertain events : however, these prophecies are delivered as absolute predictions, and very many of them in the most positive manner, with asseverations ; and some of them with the most solemn oaths, Corol. 3, It also follows, that if this notion of God's ig norance of future Volitions be true, in vain did Christ say, after uttering many great and important predictions, depend ing on men's moral actions, {Matt, xxiv, 35,) " Heayen and earth shall pass away ; but my words shall not pass away," Corol. 4, From the same notion of God's ignorance, it would follow, that in vain has he himself often spoken of the predictions of his word, as evidences of Foreknowledge ; of that which is his prerogative as GOD, and his pecuhar glory, greatly distinguishing Him from all other beings, (asm Isai. xli, 22,-26. xliii, 9, 10, xliv, 8, xiv, 21, xlvi. 10. and xlviii. 14.) ' Argum. II. If God does not foreknow the Volitions of moral Agents, then he did not foreknow the fall of man, nor of angels, and so could not foreknow the great things which are consequent on these events; such as his sending his Son in to the world to die for sinners, and all things pertaining to the great work of redemption ; all the things which were done for four thousand years before Christ came, to prepare the way for it ; and the incarnation, life, death, resurrection and ascension of Christ ; setting Him at the head of the universe as King of heaven and earth, angels and men; and setting up his church and kingdom in this world, and appointing Him the Judge of the world ; and all that Satan should do in the world in opposition to the kingdom of Christ : and the great transactions of the day of judgment, &:c. And if God was thus ignorant, the following Scriptures, and others like them, must be without any meaning, or contrary to truth. (Eph. i. 4.) " According as he hath chosen us in Him before the founda tion of the world." (1 Pet. i. 20.) "Who verily was fore ordained before the foundation of the world." (2 Tim. i, 9.) " Who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling ; not accdrding to our works, but according to his own purpose, and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world be gan." So (Eph. hi, 11,) speaking of the wisdom of God in the work of redemption, " according to the eternal purpose which he purposed in Christ Jesus," (Tit, i, 2,) " In hope of eternal life, which God that cannot lie, promised before the world be gan." (Rom, viii. 29.) " Whom he did foreknow, them he also Sect. XI. God foreknows our Volitions. Ill did predestinate," &c. (1 Pet. i. 2.) " Elect, according to the foreknowledge of God the Father." If God did not foreknow the fall of man, nor the redemp tion by Jesus Christ, nor the Volitions of man since the fall ; then he did not foreknow the saints in any sense ; neither as particular persons, nor as societies or nations ; either by elec tion, or by mere foresight of their virtue or good works ; or any foresight of any thing about them relating to their salvation ; or any benefit they have by Christ, or any manned of concern of theirs with a Redeemer. , Arg. III. On the supposition of God's ignorance of the future Volitions of free Agents, it will follow, that God must in many cases truly repent what he has done, so as properly to wish he had done otherwise : by reason that the event of things, in those affairs which are most important, viz. the af fairs of his moral kingdora, being uncertain and contingent, often happens quite otherwise than he was before aware of. And there would be reason to understand that, in the most literal sense, {Gen. vi. 6.) " It repented the Lord, that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him at his heart," (and 1 Sam. XV. 11.) contrary to Numb, xxiii. 19. " God is not the Son of Man, that He should repent :" and 1 Sam. xv, 15, 29. " Also the strength of Israel will not lie, nor repent ; for He is not a man that He should repent." Yea, from this notion it would follow, that God is liable to repent and be grieved at His heart, in a literal sense, continually ; and is always exposed to an infinite number of real disappointments in governing the world ; and to manifold, constant, great perplexity and vex ation : but this is not very consistent with his title of " God over all, blessed for evermore ;" which represents Him as possessed of perfect, coristant, and uninterrupted tranquillity and felicity, as God over the universe, and in his management of the affairs of the world, as supreme and universal ruler. (See Rom. 1. 25. ix. 5. 2 Cor. xi. 31. 1 Tim. vi, 15,) Arg. IV It will also follow from this notion, that as God is liable to be continually repenting of what he has done ; so he must be exposed to be constantly changing his mind and intentions, as to his future conduct ; altering his measures, re linquishing his old designs, and forming new schemes and projects. For his purpose-s, even as to the main parts of his scheme, such as belong to the state of his moral kingdom, must be always liable to be broken, through want of fore sight ; and he must be continually putting his system to rights, as it gets out of order, through the contingence of the actions of moral Agents : He must be a Being, who, instead of being absolutely immutable, must necessarily be the subject of in finitely the most numerous acts of repentance and changes of intention, of any being whatsoevrer ; for this plain reason, that 112 FREEDOM OP THE WILL, PaRT II. his vastly extensive charge comprehends an infinitely greater number of those things which are to him contingent and un certain. In such a situation, he must have little else to do, but to mend broken hnks as well as he can, and be rectifying his disjointed frame and disordered movements, in the best man ner the case will aflow. The~ Supreme Lord of all things must needs be under great and miserable disadvantages, in govern ing the world which he has made, and of which he has the care, through his being utterly unable to find out things of chief importance, which hereafter shall befafl his system ; for which, if he did but know, he might make seasonable provision. In many cases, there may be very great necessity that he should make provision, in the manner of his ordering and disposing things, for some great events which are to happen, of vast and extensive influence and endless consequence to the universe ; which he may see afterwards, when it is too late, and may wish in vain that he had known before, that he might have ordered his affairs accordingly. And it is in the power of man, on these principles, by his devices, purposes and actions, thus to disappoint God, break his measures, make him continually change his mind, subject him to vexation, and bring him into confusion. But how do these things consist with reason, or with the word of God ? Which represents, that all God's works, all that he has ever to do, the wliole scheme and series of his opera tions, are from the beginning perfeetly^ in his view ; and de clares, that whatever devices and designs are in the hearts of men, " the counsel of the Lord shall stand, and the thoughts of his heart to all generations," (Prov. xix. 21. Psal. xxxiii. 10, 11.) And " that which the Lord of hosts hath purposed, none shall disannul," (Isai, xiv, 27.) And that he cannot be frustrated in one design or thought, (Job, xiii, 2,) And " that which God doth, it shall be for ever, that nothing can be put to it, or taken from it," (Eccl, iii, 14,) The stability and per petuity of God's counsels are expressly spoken of as connected with his foreknowledge, {Isai. xlvi. 10.) " Declaring the end from the beginning, and from ancient times the things that are not yet done ; saying. My counsel shall stand," and I wiil do all my pleasure." — And how are these things consistent with what the scripture says of God's immutability, which represents him as " without variableness, or shadow of turn ing ;" and speaks of him, most particularly, as unchangeable vvith regard to his purposes, {Mal. iii. 6.) " I am the Lord ; I change not ; therefore ye sons of Jacob are not consumed," (Exod, iii. 14.) " I am that i am." (Job xxiii. 13, 14.) " He is in one mind ; and who can turn him? And what his soul desireth, even thaf he doth : for he performeth the thing that is appointed for me." Sect, XI, God foreknows ow Volitions. 113 Arg. V. If this notion of God's ignorance of future Voli tions of moral Agents be thoroughly considered in its conse quences, it will appear to follow from it that God, after he had made the world, vvas liable to be wholly frustrated ofhis end in the creation of it ; and so has been, in like manner, liable to be frustrated of his end in all the great works he had wrought. It is manifest, the moral world is the end of the natural : the rest of the creation is but an house which God hath built, with furniture, for moral Agents : and the good or bad state of the moral world depends on the improvement they make of their natural Agency, and so depends on their Volitions. And there fore, if these cannot be foreseen by God, because they are con tingent, and subject to no kind of necessity, then the affairs of the moral world are liable to go wrong to any assignable de gree ; yea, liable to be utterly ruined. As on this scheme it may well be supposed to be Zt dently arises from the nature of things. 21. In reahty, divine decrees (aa before hinted) are nothing else than a wonderful chain or series qf positimis, which are so many antecedents,' counter acting defects arising from the hypothetical nature of things. Whemie it neces sarily foUows, that if there were no P4 ssive power there could be no divine de crees. For if good, and only good, arose from thenature of things ; the decree, which has good only for its object, would be superfluous, and therefore unworthy of divine volition. 22. Hence also, whatever event is in itself good, is an object of divine decree in its antecedent ; and the event itself is connected with the decretive position by the very essence of truth. But whatever is in itself evil arises from the hypotheti cal nature of things not counteracted by decretive positions. > 23. In God, his absolutely necessary, eternal, infinite and unchangeable na ture, is to be regarded as an antecedent; from which all possible happiness is the necessary consequence. . Such an antecedent is not the result of raere, arbitrary, or decretive will, but of absolute necessity, but aU antecedents in a creature, or every causal influence, of which good, or happiness, whether natural or moral, is the consequence, must be the positions of decretive wiU, as the only possible mode of. securing a good result. 24. As is the antecedent, so is the consequent ; for the connection is formed by eternal truth. If therefore a good event, — for instance, a virtuous or holy choice — be the consequent, the antecedent is a decretive position. 25. In reference to God, the proper and only ground ofinfallible certainty that hia choice is goodand praiseworthy, is the goodness of his nature. Were we to admit in thought the possibility of a defectible nature in him, in the same pro portion must we admit a possible fa,ilure in thc goodness of his choice. And in Sect. xm. Arminian Liberty inconsistent. 129 cause be what it will. If the cause is the will itsdf, by an tecedent acts choosing and determining ; still the determined caused act must be a necessary effect. The act, tliat is the determined effect of the foregoing act which is its cause, cannot prevent the efficiency of its cause ; but must be wholly subject to its determination and comraand, as much as the motions of the hands and feet. The consequent commanded acts of the will are as passive and as necessary, with reSpect to the antecedent determining acts, as the parts of the body are to the volitions which determine and command them. And therefore, if all the free acts of the will are all determined effects determined by the will itself, that is by antecedent choice, then they are all necessary ; they are all subject fo, and de reference to a created being, the proper and only ground of certainty that hia choice will be good, is the antecedent goodness of his nature or disposition. This alone is a sufficient causal influence ; but the goodness of a creature's disposition can be secured, as a ground of certainty, only by decretive influence of a na ture corresponding with the nature of the effect. 26. From these principles and considerations, which can here be but briefly stated, as necessarily connected with their legitimate consequences, we infer, that God foresees all good, in every created being, in every mode, in every event, by the evidence of a decretive necessity ; a necessity resulting firom actual fe- flux, or perpetual energy, in the position of antecedents, and the essence of trtith connecting the causal influence with the effect. 27. Prom the same principles we learn, that God foresees or foreknows all evil — ^however blended with the good, aa the different colours in a pencil of light are blended — in every being, and in every event where found, by that ne ceasity which is hypothetical only; a necessity resulting from the nature of things left to their own causal influence ; which influence, in any given circum stances, will manifest itself either in the way of contrast, of dependence, or both united. 28, Again : Volitions are ads of the mind, and each voluntary act is com- poimded of a natural and moral quality. The natural quality of a voluntary act proceeds from decretive necessity; for there is nothing in it but what is good, de creed, and efiected by the first cause. The moral quality of a voluntary act is either good or evil. 29. A voluntary act moraUy good, is altogether of decretive necessity, both as. to its physical and moral quality ; and is therefore foreknown because of decretive appointment and energy. But a voluntary act morally bad, is partly of decretiTe, and partly of hypothetical necessity, or that of consequence. 30. The physical quality of a voluntary act moraUy bad, is of decretive necessity, and is foreknown because foreappointed ; but the moral auALiTV of the same act, or its badness, is foreknown only by relation, connection, or conse quence. Thus deformity is the absence of beauty, and may be known by the standard of beauty from which it deviates. Weakness is the absence of strength, . and may be known by relation. A shadow is known by the interception of rays, and may be known in the same manner. Darkness is caused by the absence of light, and may be known by the Ught excluded. 31. How the BAD quality of a moral act may be foreknown by the evidence of relation, will further appear from the consideration of the nature of moral evil itself. For what is moral evil, or sin, but What ought not to be, in point of moral obligation 7 Now for at all knowing, or foreknowing, what ought -not to be, which is incapable of being decreed, the proper medium or evidence is the know ledge of what ought to be. 32. If. therefore what ought to be, is known to the omniseient by constituted relationa, or voluntary appointment ; what aught not to be, raay be kno'yn by evi dent consequences. — W. VOL. II. 17 130 PREEDOjr OP TSE will. I'ART ir.. cisively fixed by the fcH-egoing act, which is their cause : yea, even the determining act itself ; for thaf must be determined and fixed by another act preceding, if it be a free and vo luntary act ; and so must be necessary. So fhat by this, aR , the free acts of the will are necessary, and cannot be free unless fhey are necessary : because they cannot be free, ac cording to the Arminian notion of freedom unless they are determined by fhe will ; and this is to be determined by ante cedent choice, which being their cause, proves them necessa ry. And yet they say. Necessity is utterly inconsistent wifh Liberty. So thaf, by their scheme, the acts of the will cannot be free, unless they are necessary, and yet cannot be free if they be necessary ! But if fhe other part of the dilemma be taken, thaf the free acts of the will have no cause, and are connected witli nothing whatsoever thaf goes before and determines them,. in order to maintain their proper and absolute Contingence,, and this should be allowed to be possible ; still it will not serve their turn.. For if the volition come to pass by perfect Con- tingenccr and without any cause at all, then it is certain no act of the will, no prior act of the soul was the cause, no de termination or choice of the soul had any hand in it. The will, or the soul, was indeed fhe subject of what happened to it accidentally, but was not the cause. The will is not active in causing or determining, but purely fhe passive subject j at least, according to their notion of action and passion. In this case, Contingence as much prevents the determination of the will, as a proper cause ; and as to the will, if was ne cessary, and could be no otherwise. For to suppose that it could have been otherwise, if the will or soul had pleased, is to suppose that fhe act is dependent on some prior act of choice or pleasure ; contrary fo what is now supposed ; it is to suppose fluit it might have been otherwise, if its cause had ordered if otherwise. But this does not agree to it having no cause or orderer at all. That must be necessary as to the soul, which is dependent on no free act of the soul : but that which is without a cause, is dependent on no free act of the soul ; because, by the supposition, it is dependent on nothing, and is connected with nothing. In such a case, the soul is necessarily subjected fo what accident brings to pass, from time to time, as much as the earth, fhat is inactive, is neces sarily subjected to what falls upon it.. But this does not con sist with fhe Arminian notion of liberty, which is fhe will's .power of determining itself in its own acts, and being wholly active in if, without passiveness, and without being subject to Necessity. — Thus, Contingence belongs to the Arminian no tion of Liberty, and yet is inconsistent with it. Sect. xiii. Aitainian Liberty inconsistent. 131 I would here observe, that the author of the Essay on ihe Freedom of Will, in God and the Creature, (p. 76, 77,) says as follows : " The word Chance always means something done without design. Chance and design stand in direct op position to each other : and Chance can never be properly applied to acts of fhe will, which is the spring of all design, and which designs to choose whatsoever it doth choose, whe ther there be any superior fitness in the thing which it chooses, or no ; and it designs tb determine itself to qne thing, where two things, perfectly equal, are proposed, merely because it will." But herein appears a very great madvertence. For if the will be the spring of all design, as he says, then certainly it is not always the effect of design ; and the acts of the will themselves must sometimes come to pass, when they do not spring from design ; and consequently come to pass by Chance, according to his own definition of Chance. And if the will designs to choose whatsoever it does choose, and designs to de termine itself, as he says, then it designs to determine all its de signs. Which carries us back from one design to a foregoing design determining that, and to another determining that ; and so on in infinitum. The very first design must be the effect of foregoing design, or else it must be by Chance, in his notion of it. Here another alternative may be proposed, relating to the connection of the acts of the will with soraething forego ing that is their cause, not much unlike to the other ; which is this : either human liberty may well stand with volitions being necessarily connected with the views of the understanding, and so is consistent with Necessity ; or it is inconsistent with, and contrary to such a connection and Necessity. The former is directly subversive of the Arminian notion of liberty, con sisting in freedom from all Necessity. And if the latter be chosen, and it be said, that liberty is inconsistent with any such necessary connection of volition with foregoing views of the understanding, it consisting in freedom from any such Necessi ty of the will as that would imply ; then the liberty.of the soul consists, partly at least, in freedom from restraint, limitation, and government, in its actings, by the understanding, and in liberty and liableness to act contrary to the views and dictates of the understanding : and consequently the more the soul has of this disengagedness in its acting, the more liberty. Now let it be considered to what this brings the noble principle of hu man liberty, particidarly when it is possessed and enjoyed in its perfection, viz. a full and perfect freedom and hableness to act altogether af random, without the least connection with, or res* traint or government by, any dictate of reason, or any thing whatsoever apprehended, considered or viewed by the under- 132 PREEDOM OP THE WILL. pART II. standing ; as being inconsistent with fhe full and perfect sover eignty of fhe will over its own determinations. — The notion mankind have conceived of liberty, is some dignity or privilege, something worth claiming. But what dignity or privilege is there in being given up to such a wild Contingence as this, to be perfectly and constantly liable to act unreasonably, and as much tvifhout the guidance of understanding, as if we had none, or were as destitute of perceptiop as the smoke that is driven by the wind ! Bec'x. I. God's moral excellency necessary. 133 PART III. WHEREIN IS ENQUIRED, WHETHER ANY SUCH LIBERTY OF WILL AS ARMINIANS HOLD, BE NECESSARY TO MORAL AGENCY, VIRTUE AND VICE, PRAISE AND DISPRAISE, &c. SECT. L God's moral Excellency necessary, yet virtuous and.praise- ivorthy. Having considered the first thing proposed, relating to that freedom of will which Arminians maintain ; namely. Whether any such thing does, ever did, or ever can exist, I come now to the second thing proposed to be the subject of enquiry, viz. Whether any such kind of liberty be requisite to moral agen cy, virtue and vice, praise and blame, reward and punish ment, &c. I shall begin with some consideration of the virtue and agency of the Supreme moral Agent, and Fountain of all Agen cy and Virtue. Dr. WniTBY in his Discourse on the five Points, (p. 14.) says, " If all human actions are necessary, virtue and vice must be empty names ; we being capable of nothing that is blame^ worthy, or deserveth praise ; for who can blame a person for doing only what he could not help, or judge that he deserveth praise only for what he could not avoid V To the like purpose he speaks in places innumerable ; especially in his Discourse on the Freedom of the Will ; constantly maintaining, that a freedom not only from coaction, but necessity, is absolutely re quisite, in order to actions being either worthy of blame, or de serving of praise. And to this agrees, as is well known, the current doctrine oi Arminian writers, who, in genera], hold that there is no virtue or vice, reward or punishment, nothing to be commended or blamed, without this freedom. And yet Dr. Whitby, (p. 300,) allows, that God is without this freedom ; and Arminians, so far as I have had opportiinity to observe, ge nerally aeknowledge, that God is necessarily holy, and his will Tiecessarilv determined to that which is good, 134 FREEDOM 'OT THE WILL. pART III- So that, putting these things together, the infinitely holy God — who always used to be esteemed by God's people not only virtuous, but a Being in whom is all possible virtue, in the most absolute purity and perfection, brightness and amiable ness ; fhe most perfect pattern of virtue, and from whom all the virtue of others is but as beams from the sun ; and who has been supposed to be, (being thus every where represented in Scripture,) on fhe account of his virtue and holiness, infinitely more worthy to be esteemed, loved, honoured, admired, com mended, extolled, and praised, than any creature — ^this Being, according to this notion of Dr, Whitby, and other Arminians, has no virtue at all ; virtue, when ascribed to Him, is but an empty name ; and he is deserving of no commendation or praise ; because he is under necessity. He cannot avoid being holy and good as he is ; therefore no thanks to him for it. It seems the holiness, justice, faithfulness, &c. of the Most High, must not be accounted to be of the nature of thaf which is virtuous and praiseworthy. They will not deny, that these things in God are good ; but then we must understand them, that they are no more virtuous, or of the nature of any thing commendable, than the good that is in any other being that is not a moral agent ; as the brightness of fhe sun, and the fer tility of fhe earth, are good, but not virtuous, because these properties are necessary to fhese bodies, and nof the fruit of self-determining power. There needs no other confutation of this notion, fo Chris tians acquainted wifh the Bible, but only stating and particu larly representing if. To bring texts of Scripture, wherein God is represented as in every respect in the highest manner virtuous, and supremely praiseworthy, would be endless, and is altogether needless to such as have been brought up in the light of the Gospel. It were to be wished, thaf Dr. Whitby and other divines of the same sort had explained themselves, when they have asserted, that that which is necessary, is not deserving of praise; at the same time thaf fhey have owned God's perfection to be necessary, and so in effect representing God as not deserving praise. Certainly, if their words have any meaning at all, by praise, they must mean the exercise or testimony of esteem, respect,- or honourable regard. And will they then say, that men are worthy of that esteem, respect, and honour for their virtue, small and imperfect as it is, which yet God is not wor thy of, for his infinite righteousness, holiness and goodness ? If so, it must be because of some sort of peculiar Excellency in the virtuous man, which is his prerogative, wherein he really has the preference ; some dignity, that is entirely distinguish ed from any Excellency or amiableness in God ; not in dependence, but m pre-eminence; which, therefore, he does Sect. i. God's moral Excellency necessary, ^c. 135 not receive from God, nor is God the fountain or pattern of it; nor can God, in that respect, stand in competition with him, as the object of honour and regard ; but man may claim a peculiar esteem, commendation and glory, to which God can have no pretension. Yea, God has no right, by virtue of his necessary holiness, to intermeddle vvith that grateful respect and praise, due fo fhe virtuous man, who chooses virtue in the exercise of a freedom ad utrumque; any more, than a precious stone, which cannot avoid being hard and beautiful. And if if be so, let it be explained what that peculiar respect is, thaf is due to the virtuous man, which differs in nature and kind, in some way of pre-eminence, from all thaf is due to God. What is the name or description of that pecu har affection ? Is it esteem, love, admiration, honour, praise, or gratitude? The Scripture every where represents God as the highest object of all these: there we read of the soul magnifying the Lord, of " loving Him with all the heart, with all the soul, with all the mind, and with all the strength ;" admiring him, and his righteous acts, or greatly regarding them, as marvellous and wonderful; honouring, glorifying, exalting, extolling, blessing, thanking and praising him ; giv ing unto him all the glory of the good which is done or re ceived, rather than unto men ; " that no flesh should glory in his presence ; but that he should be regarded as the Being to whom all glory is due. What then is that respect ? What passion, affection, or exercise is it, that Arminians call praise, diverse from all these things, which men are worthy of for their virtue, and which God is not worthy of in any degree ? If that necessity which attends God's moral perfections and actions, be as inconsistent with being worthy of praise, as a necessity of co-action ; as is plainly imphed in, or inferred frora Dr. Whitby's discourse ; then why should we thank God for his goodness, any more than if he were forced to be good, or any more than we should thank one of our fellow- creatures who did us good, not freely, and of good will, or from any kindness of heart, but from mere compulsion, or extrinsical necessity ? Arminians suppose that God is ne cessarily a good ,and gracious Being ; for this they make the ground of some of their main arguments against many doc trines maintained by Calviriists ; they say these are certainly false, and it is impossible they should be true, because they are not consistent with the goodness of God. This supposes, that it is impossible but that God should be good : for if it be possible that He should be otherwise, then that impossibility of the truth of these doctrines ceases, according to their own argument. N Thaf virtue in God is not, in the most proper sense, re- ivardable, is not for want of merit in his moral perfections and l36 FREEDOM OP THE WILL. PaRT III, actions, sufiicient fo deserve rewards from his creatures ; but because He is infinitely above all capacity of receiving any reward. He is already infinitely and unchangeably happy^ and we cannot be profitable unto him. But still he is worthy of our supreme benevolence for his virtue: and would be worthy of our beneficence, which is the fruit and expression of benevolence, if our goodness could extend to Him. If God deserves to be. thanked and praised for his goodness. He would for the same reason, deserve that we should also requite his kindness if that were possible. " What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits ?" is the natural language of thank fulness : and so far as in us lies, it is our duty to render again according to benefits received. And that we might have op portunity for so natural an expression of our gratitude fo God as beneficence, notwithstanding his being infinitely above our reach ; He has appointed others to be his receivers, and to stand in his stead as the objects of our beneficence : such are especially our indigent brethren. SECT. II. The acts of the Will ofthe human soul of Jesus Christ, neces sarily holy, yet truly virtuous, praise-worthy, rewardable, ^c. I have already considered how Dr. Whitby insists upon it, that a freedom not only from co-action but necessity, is requisite either to virtue or vice, praise or dispraise, reward or punishment. He also insists on the same freedom as abso lutely requisite to a person being the subject of a law, of precepts, or prohibitions; in the book beJFore-mentioned, (p. 301, 314, 328, 339, 340, 341, 342, 347, 361, 373, 410.) And of promises and threatenings, (p. 298, 301, 305, 311, 339, 340^ 363.) And as requisite to a state of trial, p. 297, &c. Now therefore, with an eye to these things, I would en quire into the moral conduct and practices of our Lord Jesus Christ, which he exhibited in his human nature, in his state of humiliation. And first, I would shew, fhat bis holy behaviour was necessary ; or that it was impossible it should be otherwise, than that He should behave himself holily, and that he should be perfectly holy in each individual act ofhis life. And second ly, that his holy behaviour was properly ofthe nature oi virtue, and was worthy of praise; and that he was the subject oilam, precepts or commands, promises and rewards ; and that he was in a state of trial. I. It was impossible, that the Acts of the Will of Christ's human soul should, in any instance, degree or circumstance, be Sect. ii. Christ's Volitions necessarily holy, t^c. 137 otherwise than holy, and agreeable to God's nature and will. The following things make this evident. I. God had promised so effectually to preserve and uphold Him by his Spirit, under all his temptations, that he could not fail of the end for which he came into the world ; but he would have failed, had he fallen into sin. We have such a promise, (Isai. xliii. 1, 2, 3, 4.) " Behold my Servant, whom I uphold ; mine Elect, in whom my soul delighteth : I have put my Spi rit upon him : He shall bring forth judgment to the Gentiles : He shall not cry, nor lift up, nor cause his voice to be heard in the street. — He shall bring forth judgment unto truth. He shall not fail, nor be discouraged, till He have set judgment in the earth ; and the isles shall wait his lavV." This promise of God's Spirit put upon Him, and his not crying and lifting up his voice', <^c. relates fo the time of Christ's appearance on earth ; as is manifest from the nature of the promise, and also the appheation of it in the New Testament, {Matt. xii. 18.) And the words imply a promise of his being so upheld by God's Spirit, that he should be preserved from sin ; particularly from pride and vainglory ; and from being overcome by any temptations he should be under to affect the glory of this world, the pomp of an earthly prince, or the applause and praise of men : and that he should be so upheld, that he should by no means fail of obtaining the end of his coming into the world, of bringing forth judgment unto victory, and establish ing his kingdom of grace in the earth. And in the following verses, this promise is confirmed, wifh fhe greatest imaginable solemnity. " Thus saith the Lord, he that created the hea vens, and stretched them out ; He that spread forth l;he earth, and that which cometh out of it ; He that giveth breath unto the people upon it, and spirit to them that walk therein : I the Lord have called thee in righteousness, and v/ill hold thine hand ; and will keep thee, and give thee for a Covenant of the people, for a Light of the Gentiles, to open the blind eyes, to bring out the prisoners from the prison, and them that sit in darkness out of the prison-house. I am Jehovah, that is my name, &:c." Very parallel with these promises is another {Isai. xlix. 7, 8, 9.) which also has an apparent respect to the time of Christ's humiliation on earth. — " Thus saith the Lord, the Redeemer of Israel, and his Holy One, to him whom man despiseth, to him whom the nation abhorreth, to a servant of rulers ; kings shall see and arise, princes also shall Worship ; because of the Lord that is faithful, and the Holy One of Israel, and he shall choose , thee. Thus saith the Lord, in an acceptable time have I heard thee ; in a day of salvation have I helped thee ; and I will pre- serve thee, and give thee for a covenant of the people, to esta blish fhe earth, &c." VOL. ir. 18 138 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT III. And in Isai. 1. 5 — 6. we have the Messiah expressing his assurance that God would help him, by so opening his ear, or in clining his heart to God's commandments that he should not be rebeUious, but should persevere, and not apostatize, or turn his back : thaf through God's help he should be immoveable in obe dience, under great trials of reproach and suffering ; setting his face like a flint: so fhat he knew he should not be ashamed^ or frustrated in his design ; and finally should be approved and justified, as having done his work faithfully. '^ The Lord hath opened mine ear ; so fhat 1 was nof rebellious, neither turned away my back : I gave my back f o fhe smifers, and my cheeks to them that plucked off the hair ; I hid not my face from shame and spiffing. For the Lord God will help me ; there fore shall I not be confounded : therefore have I set my face as a flint, and I know that I shall not be ashamed. He is near that jusfifieth me : who will contend with me ? Let us stand together. Who is mine adversary ? Let him come near fo me. Behold the Lord God will help me : who is he that shall con demn' me ? Lo, they shall all wax old as a garment, fhe moflr shall eat them up." 2. The same thing is evident from all the promises which God made to the Messiah, of his future glory, kingdom, and success, in his office and character of a Mediator : which glory could nof have been obtained, if his holiness had failed, and he had been guilty of sin. God's absolute promise makes the tilings promised necessary and their failing fo take place ab solutely impossible : and, in like manner, it makes those things necessary, on which the thing promised depends, and without which it cannot take effect. Therefore it appears thaf if was utterly impossible that Christ's holiness should fail from such absolute promises as these, {Psal. cx. 4.) " The Lord hath sworn, and will not repent, thou art a priest forever, after the order of Melchizedec." And from every other promise in that psalm, contained in each verse of it. (And Psal. ii. 6, 7.) " I will declare the decree : The Lord hath said unto me. Thou art my son, this day have 1 begotten thee : Ask of me, and I will give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, &:c." {Psah xiv. 3, 4, &c.) " Gird thy sword on thy thigh, O most mighty, with thy glory and thy majesty ; and in thy majesty ride pros perously." And so every thing thaf is said from thence to the end of the psalm. (See Isai. iii. 13 — 15. and Iiii. 10 — 12.) And all those promises which God makes to the Messiah, of success, dominion and glory in the character of a Redeemer^ {Isai. chap, xlix.) 3. If was often promised to the church of God of old, for their comfort, that God would give them a righteous, sinless Saviour. (Jer. xxiii. 5, 6.) " Behold, "the days come, saith fhe Lord, that I wiJl raise up unto David a righteous branch ? Sect. II, Christ's Volitions necessarily holy, i^c, 139 and a king shall reign and prosper, and shall execute judgment and justice in the earth. In his days shall Judah be saved, and Israel shall dwell safely. And this is the name whereby He shall be called. The Lord our righteousness." (So Jer. xxxiii. 15.) I will cause the branch of righteousness to grow up unto David ; and he shall execute judgment and righteous ness in the land." (Isai. xi. 6, 7.) " F^r unto us a child is born ; — upon the throne of David and of his kingdom, to order it, and to estabhsh it with judgment and justice, from hence forth, even for ever : the zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this." (Chap. xi. 1. &c.) " There shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a branch shall grow ouf of his roots ; and .the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, — the spirit of knowledge, and the fear of the Lord: — with righteousness shall he judge fhe poor, and reprove with equity : — Righteous ness shall be the girdle of his loins, and faithfiilness the girdle of his reins." (Chap. lii. 13.) " My servant shall deal pru dently." (Chap. Iiii. 9.) " Because he had done no violence, neither was guile found in his mouth." If it be impossible that these promises should fail, and it be easier for heaven and earth to pass away, than for one jot or tittle of them to pass away, then it was impossible that Christ should commit any sin. Christ himself signified, that it was impossible but that the things which were spoken concerning him, should be fulfill ed. (Luke xxiv. 44.) " That all things must be fulfilled, which were written in the law of Moses, and in the prophets, and in the psalms concerning me." (Matt. xxvi. 53, 54.) " But how then shall the scripture be fulfilled, that thus it must be ?" (Mark xiv. 49.) " But the scriptures must be fulfilled." And so the apostle, (Acts i. 16, 17.) " This scripture must needs have been fulfilled." 4. All the promises, which were made to fhe church of old, of the Messiah as a future Saviour, from thaf made to our first parents in paradise, to that which was delivered by the prophet Malachi, shew it to be impossible that Christ should not have persevered in perfect holiness. The ancient pre dictions given to God's church, of the Messiah as a Saviour, were of the nature of promises ; as is evident by the predic tions themselves, and the manner of delivering them. But they are expressly, and very often called promises in the New Testament ; (as in Luke i. 54, 55, 72, 73. Acts xiii. 32, 33. Rom. i. 1 — 3. and chap. xv. 8. Heb. vi. 13, &c.) These promises were often made with great solemnity, and confirmed with an oath ; as (Gen. xxii. 16, 17.) " By myself have I sworn, saith the Lord, that in blessing, I will bless thee, and in mul tiplying, I will multiply thy seed as the stars of heaven and as the sand which is upon the sea-shore : ^And in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed." (Compare Luke 140 FREEDOM OP THE WILL, PaRT 111' i, 72, 73. and Gal. iii. 8, 15, 16.) The Apostle in Heb. vi. 17^ 18. speaking of this promise to Abraham, says, "Wherein God willing more abundantly fo shew to the heirs of promise the immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by an oath ; thaf by two immdtable things, in which if was impossible for God to lie, we might thave strong consolation,'^ In which words, the necessity:^ of the accomplishment, or (which is the same thing) the impossibility of fhe contrary, is fully declared. So God confirmed the promise of the Messiah's great salva tion, made to David, by an oath ; (Psal. Ixxxix. 3, 4.) " I have made a covenant with my chosen, I have sworn unto David my servant; thy seed will 1 establish forever, and build up thy throne to all generations." There is nothing so abundantly set forth in scripture, as sure and irrefragable, as this promise and oath to David. (See Psalm Ixxxix. 34~-364 3 Sam. xxiii. 5. Isai. Iv. 4. Acts ii. 29, 30. and xiii. 34.) The scripture expressly speaks of if as utterly impossible that this promise and oath to David, concerning the everlasting domi nion of the Messiah should fail. (Jer. xxxiii 15, &c.) " In those days, and at that time, I will cause the Branch of Righteous ness to grow up unto David. — For thus saith fhe Lord, David shall never want a man to sif upon the throne of the House of Israel." (Ver. 20, 21.) " If you can break my covenant of the day, and my covenant of the night, and fhat there should not be day and night in their season ; then may also my covenant be broken with David my servant, fhat He should not have a son to reign upon his throne." (So in ver. 25, 26.) Thus abun dant is fhe Scripture in representing how impossible it was, that the promises made of old concerning the great salvation and kingdom of the Messiah should fail : which implies, that if was impossible that this Messiah, the second Adam, the promised seed of Abraham and of David, should fall from his integrity as fhe first Adam did. 5. All fhe promises that were made to the Church of God under the Old Testament, of the great enlargement of the Church, and advancement of her glory in the days of fhe Gos pel, after the coming of fhe Messiah ; the increase of her light, liberty, holiness, joy, triumph over her enemies, &c. of which so great a part of the Old Testament consists; which. are re peated so often, are so variously exhibited, so frequently intro duced with great pomp and solemnity, and are so abundantly sealed with typical and symbolical representations ; I say all these promises imply that the Messiah should perfect the work of redemption : and this implies, thaf he should persevere.in the work, which the Father had appointed Him, being in all things conformed fo his Will. These promises were offen con firmed by an oath. (See Isai. liv. 9. with the context ; chap. Ixii. 18.) And it is represented as utterly impossible that these Sect. ii. Christ's Volitions necessarily holy, <^c. 141 promises should fail. {Isa. xlix. I'i. with thc context, chap, liv, 10. with the context ; chap. li. 4 — 8^ chap. xl. 8. with the con text.) And therefore it was impossible, thaf the Messiah should fail, or commit sin. 6. It was impossible that the Messiah should fail of perse vering in integrity and holiness, as the first Adam did, because this would have been inconsistent with the promises, which God made to the blessed Virgin, his mother, and to her hus band ; implying, that he should " save his people from their sins," that God would " give Him the throne of his Father David," that he should " reign over the house of Jacob for ever ;" and that " of his kingdom there shall be no end." — - These promises were sure, and it was impossible they should fail. And therefore the Virgin Mary, in trusting fully to them, acted reasonably, having an immoveable foundation of her faith ; as Elizabeth observes, (ver. 45) " And blessed is she that believeth ; for there shall be a performance of those things, which were told her from the Lord." 7. That it should have been possible that Christ should sin, and so fail in the work of our redemption, does not consist with the eternal purpose and decree of God, revealed in the Scriptures, thaf He would provide salvation for fallen man in and by Jesus Christ, and that salvation should be offered to sin ners through the preaching of fhe Gospel. Thus much is im plied in many Scriptures, (as 1 Cor. ii. 7. — Eph. i. 4. 5. and chap. iii. 9 — 11. — 1 Pet. i. 19, 20.) Such an absolute decree as this, Arminians allow to be signified in many texts ; their election of nations and societies, and general election of the Christian Church, and conditional election of particular per sons, imply this. God could not decree before the foundation of the world, to save all that should beUeve in and obey Christ, unless he had absolutely decreed, that salvation should be pro vided, and effectually wrought out by Christ. And since (as the Arminians themselves strenuously maintain,) a decree of God infers necessity ; hence if became necessary that Christ should persevere and actually work out salvation for us, and that he should not fail by the commission of sin. 8. That it should have been possible for Christ's Holiness to fail, is not consistent with what God promised to his Son, before all ages. For thaf salvation should be offered to men, through Christ, and bestowed on all his faithful followers, is at least implied in fhat certain and infaUible promise spoken of by the apostle (Tit. i. 2.) " In hope of eternal life ; which God, that cannot lie, promised before the world began." This does nof seem to be controverted by Arminians.* 9. That it should be possible for Christ to fail of doing his * See Dr. Whitet on the five Points, p. 48, 49, 50. 142 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT III, Father's WiU, is inconsistent with the promise made to the Fa ther by the Son, the Logos that was with fhe Father from the beginning, before he took the human nature : as may be seen in Psa. xl. 6 — 8, (compared with the apostle's inter pretation, Heb. X. 5 — ^9.) " Sacrifice and offering thou didst not desire : mine ears hast thou opened, (or bored ;) burnt- offering and sin-offering Thou hast not required. Then said I, Lo, 1 come ; in the volume of the book it is written of me, I delight to do thy Will, O my God, yea, thy law is within my heart." Where is a manifest allusion to the covenant, which the wiUing servant, who loved his master's service, made with his master, to be his servant for ever, on the day wherein he had his ear bored ; which covenant was probably inserted in the public records, caUed the Volume of the Book, by the judges who were caUed to take cognizance of the transaction ; {Exod. xxi.) If the Logos, who was with the Father before the world, and who made the world, thus engaged in covenant to do the Will of the> Father in the human nature, and fhe promise was as it were recorded, that it might be made sure, doubtless it was impossible fhat it should faU ; and so it was impossible that Christ should fail of doing the WiU of the Father in the human nature. 10. If it was possible for Christ to have failed of doing the WiU of his Father, and so f o have failed of effectually working out redemption for sinners, then the salvation of all the saints who were saved from the beginning of the world fo the death of Christ, was not built on a firm foundation. The Messiah, and the redemption which He was to work out by his obedience unto death, was the saving foundation of aU thaf ever were saved. Therefore, if when the Old Testament saints had the pardon of their sins and the favour of God promised them, and salvation bestowed upon them, still it was possible that the Messiah, when he came, might commit sin, then all this was on a foundation that was not firm and stable, but liable to fail ; something which it was possible might never be. God did, as it were, trust to what his Son had engaged and promised to do in future time, and depended so much upon it, that He pro ceeded actually fo save men on the account of it, as though it had been already done. But this trust and dependence of God, on the supposition of Christ's being liable to fail of doing his Will, was leaning on a staff that was weak, and might pos sibly break. The saints of old trusted on the promises of a future redemption fo be wrought out and completed by the Messiah, and built their comfort upon it : Abraham saw Christ's Day, and rejoiced ; and he and fhe other Patriarchs died in the faith of fhe promise of it. {Heb. xi. 13.) But on this supposition, their faith, their comfort, and their salvation, was biiUt on a fallible foundation ; Christ was not to them " a Sect. ii. Christ's Volitions necessarily holy, ^c. 143 tried stone, a sure foundation ;" (Isai. xxviii. 16.) David en tirely rested on the covenant of God with him, concerning the future glorious dominion and salvation of the Messiah ; and said it was all his salvation, and all his desire , and comforts himself that this covenant was an " everlasting covenant, or dered in all things and sure," (2 Sam. xxiii. 5.) But if Christ's virtue might fad, he was mistaken : his great comfort was not built so sure," as he thought it was, being founded entirely on the determinations of the Free- Will of Christ's human soul ; which was subject to no necessity, and might be determined either one way or the other. Also the dependence of those who " looked for redemption in Jerusalem, and waited for the conso lation of Israel," {Luke ii. 25 and 38.) and the confidence of the disciples of Jesus, who forsook all and followed him, that they might enjoy the benefits of his future kingdom, were bmlt on a sandy foundation. 11. The man Christ Jesus, before he had finished his course of obedience, and while in the midst of temptations and trials, was abundant in positively predicting his own fu ture glory in his kingdom, and the enlargement of his church, the salvation of the Gentiles through him, &;c. and in promises pf blessings he would bestow on his true disciples in his future kingdom ; on which promises he required the fuU dependence of his disciples. {John xiv.) But the disciples would have no ground for such dependence, if Christ had been liable to fail in his work : and Christ himself would have been guilty of presumption, in so abounding in peremptory promises of great things, which depended on a mere contingence ; viz. fhe de terminations of his Free Will, consisting in a freedom ad utrumque, fo either sin or hohness, standing in indifference, and incident, in thousands of fiiture instances, to go either one way or the other. Thus it is evident, that if was impossible fhat the Acts of the Will of the human soul of Christ should be otherwise than holy, and conformed to the Will of the Father ; or, in other words, they were necessarily so conformed. I have been the longer in the proof of this matter, it be ing a thing denied by some of the greatest Arminians, by Epis- c SECT. VI. Liberty of Indifference, not only not necessary to Virtue, but utterly inconsistent with it ; and all, either virtuous or vicious Habits or Inclinations, inconsistent with Arminian Notions of Liberty and moral Agency. To suppose such a freedom of will as Arminians talk of to be requisite to Virtue and Vice, is many ways contrary to common sense* If Indifference belong to Liberty of Will, as Arminians suppose, and it be essential to a virtuous action, fhat if be performed in a state of Liberty, as fhey also suppose ; it will follow, that it is essential fo a virtuous action, that it be per formed in a state of, Indifference : and if it be performed in a state of Indifference, then doubtless it must be performed in the time of Indifference. And so it will follow, thaf in order to the virtue of an act, the heart must be indifferent in the time of the performance of that act, and the more indifferent and cold fhe heart is with relation to the act performed, so much the better ; because the act is performed with so much the greater Liberty. But is this agreeable to the light of nature ? Is it agreeable to the notions which mankind in all ages have of Virtue, that it lies in what is contrary to Indif ference, even in the Tendency and Inclination of the heart to virtuous action ; and that the stronger the Inclination, and so the further frora Indifference, the more virtuous the heart, and 60 much the more praiseworthy the act Which proceeds from itl if we should stippose (contrary to what has been before demonstrated^ that there may be ari act of will in a state of Indifference; for instance, this act, viz. The will determining to put itself out of a state of Indifference, and to give itself a preponderation one way : then it would follow, on Arminian principles, that this act or determination of the wUl is that alone wherein Virtue consists, because this only is performed while the mind remains in a state of Indifference,' and so in a state of Liberty ; for when once the mind is put out of its equilibrium, it is no longer in such a state ; and therefore all the acts, which follow afterwards, proceeding from bias, can have the nature neither of Virtue nor Vice. Or if the thing which the will can do, while yet in a state of Indifference, and so of Liberty, be only to suspend acting, and determine to take the matter into consideration ; then this determination is thaf alone wherein Virtue consists, and not proceeding to action after the scale is turned by consideration. So that it 174 FREEDOM OF THE WIKL. PaRT III. will follow, from these principles, thaf whatever is done after the mind, by any means, is once out of its equilibrium, and arises from an Inclination, has nothing of the nature of Virtue or Vice, and is worthy of neither blame nor praise. But how plainly contrary is this to the universal sense of mankind, and to the notion they have of sincerely virtuous actions ? — . Which is, that they proceed from a heart well disposed and well inclined ; and the stronger, the more_^a;ed! and determined, the good disposition of the heart, the greater the sincerity of Virtue, and so the more of its truth and reality. But if there be any acts which are done in a state of equilibrium, or spring immediately from perfect Indifference and coldness of heart, they cannot arise from any good principle or disposition in the heart ; and, consequently, according fo common sense, have no sincere goodness in them, having no Virtue of heart in them. To have a virtuous heart, is to have a heart fhat fa vours Virtue, and is friendly to it, and not one perfectly cold and indifferent about it. And besides, the actions that are done in a state of Indif ference, or that arise immediately out of such a state, cannot be virtuous, because, by the supposition, fhey are not deter mined by any preceding choice. For if there be preceding choice, then choice intervenes between the act and the state of Indifference ; which is contrary to the supposition of the act arising immediately out of Indifference. But those acts which are not determined by preceding choice, cannot be vir tuous or vicious, by Arminian principles, because they are not determined by the will. So that neither one way, nor the other, can any actions be virtuous or vicious, actiording to those principles. If the action be determined by a preceding act of choice, it cannot be virtuous ; because the action is not done in a state of Indifference, nor does iraraediately arise from such a state , and so is not done in a state of Liberty. — ; If the action be not determined by a preceding act of choice, then it cannot be virtuous ; because then the will is not self-determined in it. So that it is made certain that neither Virtue nor Vice can ever find any place in the uni-, verse I Moreover, that it is necessary to a virtuous action that it be performed in a state of indifference, under a notion of that being a state of Liberty, is contrary to common sense ; as it is a dictate, of common sense, fhat Indifference itself, in many cases, is vicious, and so to a high degree. As if when I see my neighbour or near friend, and one who has in the highest degree merited of me, in extreme distress and ready to pe rish, I find an Indifference in my heart with respect to any thing proposed to be done, which I can easily do, for his relief So if it should be proposed to me to blaspheme God, or kUI mv Sect. vi. Indifference inconsistent with Virtue. 175 father, or do numberless other things which might be mention ed, the being indifferent for a moment would be highly vicious and vile. And it may be further observed, that to suppose this Li berty of Indifference is essential to Virtue and Vice, destroys the" great difference of degrees of the guUt of different crimes, and takes away the heinousness of the most flagitious, horrid iniquities ; such as adultery, bestiality, murder, perjury, blas phemy, (Sic. For, according to these principles, there is no harm at all in having the mind in a state of perfect Indifference with respect to fhese crimes ; nay, it is absolutely necessary in order to any Virtue in avoiding them, or vice in doing them. But for the mind to be in a state of Indifference with respect to them, is fo be next door to doing them : if is then infinitely near to choosing, and so committing the fact : for equihbrium is the next step fo a degree of preponderation ^ and one, even the least degree of preponderation (all things considered) is choice. And not only so, but for the will to be in a state of perfect equilibrium with respect to such crimes, is for the mind to be in such a state as fo be full as likely to choose them as to refuse them, to do them as to omit them. And if our minds must be in such a state, wherein it as near to choosing as refusing, and wherein it must of necessity, accord ing to fhe nature of things, be as likely to commif them as to refrain from them ; where is the exceeding heinousness of choosing and committing them ? If there be no harm in often being in such a state, wherein the probability of doing and forbearing are exactly equal, there being an equUibrium, and no more tendency to one than the other ; then, according to the nature and laws of such a contingence, it may be expected, as an inevitable consequence of such a disposition of things, that we should choose them as often as reject them : that it should generally so fall out is necessary, as equality in fhe effect is the natural consequence of the equal tendency of the cause, or of the antecedent state of things from which the effect arises. Why then should we be so exceedingly to blame, if it does so fall out ? If is many ways apparent, that the Arminian scheme of Liberty is utterly inconsistent with the being of any such things as either virtuous or vicious Habits or Dispositions. If Liberty of Indifference be essential fo moral agency, then there can be no Virtue in any habitual IncHnations of the heart ; which are contrary to Indifference, and iinply in their nature fhe very destruction and exclusion of it. They suppose nothing can be virtuous in which no Liberty is exercised ; but how absurd is it to talk of exercising Indifference under bias and prepon deration ! And if self-determining power in the will be necessary to 176 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. pART I1I» moral agency, praise, blame, &;c. then nothing done by the wilt can be any further praiseworthy or blameworthy, than so far as the will is moved, swayed and determined by itself, and the. scales turned by the sovereign power the wUl has over itself. And theriefore the wiU must not be out of its balance, prepon deration must not be determined and efiected beforehand; and so fhe self-determining act anticipated. Thus it appears : another way, that habitual bias is inconsistent with that Liberty which Arminians suppose to be necessary to Virtue or Vice ; and so it follows that habitual bias itself cannot be either virtuous or vicious. The same thing follows from their doctrine concerning the Inconsistence oi Necessity with Liberty, Praise, Dispraise, &c. None will deny that Bias and Inclination may be so stiong as to be invincible, and leave no possibihty of fhe wUl determining contrary to it ; and so be attended with Neces.. sity. This Dr. Whitby allows concerning the will of God,, Angels, and glorified Saints, with respect to good ; and the wiU of DevUs with respect to evil. Therefore, if Necessity^ be inconsistent with Liberty, then when fixed Inclination is to such a degree of strength, if utterly excludes all Virtue,. Vice, Praise, or Blame. And if so, then the nearer Habits are to this strength, the more do they impede Liberty, and so diminish Praise and Blame. If very strong Habits destroy Liberty, the lesser ones proportionably hinder it, according to their degree of strength. And therefore it wUl follow, that then is the act most virtuous or vicious, when performed with out any Inchnation or habitual Bias af all ; because it is then performed with most Liberty. Every prepossessing fixed Bias on the mind brings a de gree of moral Inability for the contrary ; because so far as the rhind is biassed and prepossessed, so much hinderance is there of the contrary. And therefore if moral InabUity be incoH' sistent with moral agency, or the nature of Virtue and Vice, then, so far as there is any such thing as evil disposition of heart, or habitual depravity of Inclination, whether covetous« ness, pride, malice, cruelty, or whatever else, so much the more excusable persons are ; so much the less have thejr evil acts of this kind the nature of Vice. And on the contrary, whatever exceUent Dispositions and Inclinations they have, so much are they the less virtuous. It is evident that no habitual disposition of heart can be in any degree virtuous or vicious; or the actions which proceed from them at all praiseworthy or blameworthy. Be cause, though we should suppose the Habit nof to be of such strength as wholly to take away all moral ability and self-deter mining power ; or may be partly from Bias, and in part from self-determination ; yet ip this c^se, all that is frdm antecedent Sect. vi. Indifference inconsistent with Virtue. 177 Bias must be set aside, as of no consideration ; and in estima ting the degree of Virtue or Vice, no more must be considered than what arises from self-determining power, without any in fluence of that Bias, because Liberty is exercised m no more : so thaf all that is fhe exercise of habitual Inclination is thrown away, as not belonging to the morality of the action. By which it appears, that no exercise of these Habits, let them be stronger or weaker, can ever have any thing of the nature of either Virtue or Vice. Here if any one should say, thaf notwithstanding all these things, there may be the nature of Virtue and Vice in the Habits of the mind ; because these Habits may be the effects of those acts, wherein the mind exercised Liberty ; that how ever the forementioned reasons wUl prove that no Habits, which are natural, or thaf are born or created with us, can be either virtuous or vicious ; yet they will not prove this of Habits which have been acquired and established by repeated free acts. To such an objector 1 would say, thaf this evasion will not at all help the matter. For if freedom of wUl be essential fo the very nature oi Virtue and Vice, then there is no Virtue or Vice but only in that very thing, wherein this Liberty is exer cised. If a man in one or more things that he does, exercises Liberty, and then by those acts is brought into such circum stances that his Liberty ceases, and there follows a long series of acts or events that come to pass necessarily ; those conse quent acts are not virtuous or vicious, rewardable or punishable ; but only the free acts that established this necessity ; for in them alone was the man free. The following effects, that are necessary, have no more of the nature of Virtue or Vice, than health or sickness of body have properly fhe nature of Virtue or Vice, being fhe effects of a course of free acts of temperance or intemperance ; or than the good qualities of a clock are of the nature of Virtue, which are the effects of free acts of the artificer ; or.the goodness and sweetness of the fruits of a garden are moral Virtues, being the effects of the free and faithful acts of the gardener. If Liberty be absolutely requi site to the morality of actions, and necessity wholly inconsist ent with it, as Arminians greatly insist ; then no necessary ef fects whatsoeverj let the cause be never so good or bad, can be virtuous or vicious ; but the virtue or vice must be only in the free cause. Agreeably fo this, Dr. Whitby supposes the ne cessity that attends the good and evil Habits of the saints in heaven and damned in hell, which are the consequence of their free acts in their state of probation, are nof rewardable or pu nishable. On the whole it appears, that if the notions of Arniinians conceming liberty and moral agency be true, it will follow VOL, II. 23 178 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT Ifl that there is.no virtue in any such Habits or qualities as humi hty, meekness, patience, mercy, gratitude, generosity, heaven ly-raindedness ; nothing af all praiseworthy in loving Christ aboy,e father and_ mother, wife and children, or our own lives ; or in delight in hoUness, hungering and thirsting after righteous ness, love fo enemies, universal benevolence to mankind : and on the other hand, there is nothing at all vicious, or worthy of dispraise, in the most sordid, beastly, malignant, devilish dis positions ; in being ungrateful, profane, habituaUy hating God, and things sacred and holy ; or in beirig most treacherous, en vious, and cruel towards men. For all these things are Dispo^ sitions and Inclinations oi the heart. And in short, there is no such thing as any virtuous or vicious quality of mind ; no such thing as inherent virtue and holiness, or vice and sin : and the stronger those Habits or Dispositions are, which used to be called virtuous and vicious, the further they are from being so indeed ; the more violent men's lusts are, the more fixed theii' pride, envy, ingratitude, and maliciousness, still the further are they from being blameworthy. - If there be a inan that by his own repeated acts, or by any other means, is come to be of the most hellish Disposition, desperately inclined to treat his neigh bours with injuriousness, contempt, and malignity ; the further they should be from any Disposition to be angry with him, or in the least f o blame him. So, on the other hand, if there be a person who is of a most excellent spirit, strongly inclining him to the most amiable actions, admirably meek, benevolent, &;c. so much is he further from any thing rewardable or commend able. On which principles, the man Jesus Christ was very far from being praiseworthy for those acts of holiness and kindness which He performed, these propensities being strong in his heart. And above all, the infinitely holy and gracious God is infinitely remote from any thing commendable, his good Inclinations being infinitely strong, and He, therefore, at the utmost pos sible distance from being af liberty. And in all cases, the stronger the Inclinations of any are to Virtue, and the more they love it, fhe less virtuous, and the more they love wicked-' ness, the less vicious they are. Whether these things are agreeable to Scripture, let every Christian, and every man who has read the Bible, judge : and whether they are agreeable to common sense, let every one judge, that has human understand ing in exercise. And, if we pursue these principles, we shall find that Virtue and Vice are wholly excluded out of the world ; and that there never was, nor ever can be any such thing as one or the other, either in God, angels, or men. No Propensity, Dis position, or Habit, can be virtuous or vicious, as has been shewn; because they, so far as they take place, dejstroy the freedora of the will, the foundation of all moral agency, and S&CT. vu. Arminian Notions of moral Agency, <^c. 179 exclude all capacity of either Virtue or Vice. — And if Habits and Dispositions themselves be not virtuous nor vicious, nei ther can the exercise of fhese Dispositions be so : for the exercise of Bias is nof the exercise of free self-determining -will, and so there is no exercise of liberty in it. Consequent ly, no man is virtuous or vicious, either in being well or Ul disposed, nor in acting from a good or bad Disposition. And whether this Bias or Disposition be habitual or not, if it ex- -ists but a moment before the act of will which is the effect of it, it alters not the case as to the necessity of the effect. Or, if there be no previous Disposition at all, either habitual or occasional, that determines the act, then it is not choice thaf determines it ; it is, therefore, a contingence that happens fo the man, arising from nothing in him ; and is necessary, as to any Inclination or Choice of his ; and therefore cannot •make him either the better or worse, any more than a tree is better than other trees, because it oftener happens to be lighted upon by a nightingale : or a rock more vicious than other rocks, because rattlesnakes have happened oftener to crawl over it. So that there is no Virtue nor Vice in good or bad Dispositions, either fixed or transient ; nor any Virtue or Vice In acting from any good or bad previous Inclination; nor yet any virtue or vice in acting wholly .without any pre vious Inclination. Where then shall we find room for Virtue or Vice ? SECT. VII. Arminian Notions of moral Agency inconsistent with all Influ ence of Motive and Inducement, in either virtuous or vicious Actions.As Arminian notions of that liberty which is essential to virtue or vice, are inconsistent with common sense in their being inconsistent with all virtuous or vicious habits and dis positions ; so they are no less inconsistent with all influence of Motives in moral actions. — Such influence equaUy against those notions of hberty, whether there be, previous to the act of choice, a preponderapcy of the inclination, or a preponde- rancy of those circumstances which have a tendency to move the inclination. And indeed it comes to just the same thing ; to say, the circurastances of the mind are such as tend to sway and turn its inclination one way, is the same thing as to say, the inclination of fhe mind, as under such circumstances, tends that wav. 180 FREEDOia OF THE WILL. pART lit- Or if any think it most proper to say, that Motives do alter the inclination, and give a new bias to the mind, it will" nof alter fhe case as to the present argument. For if Motives operate by giving the mind an inclinatiori, then they operate by destroying the mind's indifference, and laying it under a bias. But to do this, is to destroy the Arminian freedom : it IS not to leave the will to its own self-determination, but to bring it into subjection to the powerof something extrinsic, which operates upon it, sways and determines it, previous to its own determination So that what is done from Motive, cannot be either virtuous or vicious. Besides, if the acts of the will are excited by Motives, those Motives -are the causes of those acts of the wUl ; which makes fhe acts of the will necessary; as effects necessarily follow the efficiency of the cause. And if the influence and power of the Motive causes the volition, then the influence of the Motive determines volition, and volition does not determine itself; and so is not free in the sense of Arminians (as has been largely shewn already), and consequently can be neither virtuous nor vi cious. The supposition which has already been taken notice of as an insufficient evasion in other cases, would be, in like man ner, impertinently alledged in this case ; namely, the suppo sition that liberty consists in a power of suspending action for the present, in order to deliberation. If it should be said, Though it be frue, that the will is under a necessity of fi nally foUowing the strongest Motive ; yet it may, for fhe present, forbear to act upon the Motive presented, tiU there has been opportunity thoroughly to consider it, and compare its real weight with the merit of other Motives. I answer as follows : Here again if must be remembered, thaf if determining thus to suspend and consider be the act of the will, wherein ^ alone liberty is exercised, then in this aU virtue and vice must consist; and the acts that follow this consideration, and, are the effects of it, being necessary, are no more virtuous or vi cious than some good or bad events, which happen when they are fast asleep, and are the consequences of what they did when they were awake. Therefore, I would here observe two things : 1. To suppose that all virtue and vice, in every case, con sists in determining, whether to take time for consideration or not, is not agreeable to common sense. For, according to such a supposition, the most horrid crimes, adultery, murder, sodo my, blasphemy, &c. do not at all consist in the horrid nature of the things themselves, but only in the neglect of thorough consideration before they were perpetrated, which brings their viciousness to a small matter, and makes all crimes equal. • If Sect. v«. A-rminian Notion^ of moral Agency, ^c. 181 it be said, that neglect of consideration, when such heinous ¦ evils are proposed to choice, is worse than in other cases : I an swer, this is inconsistent, as it supposes, the very thing to be, which, at the sarae time, is supposed not to be ; it supposes all moral evil, all viciousness and heinousness, does not consist merely in the want of consideration. It supposes some crimes in thetmelves, in "their own nature, to be more heinous than others, antecedent to consideration or inconsideration, which lays fhe person under a p. evious obligation to consider in some cases more than others. 2. If it were so, that all virtue and vice, in every case, con sisted only in the act of the wUl whereby it determines whether to consider or no, it would not alter the case in the least as to the present argument. For still in this act of the will on this determination, if is induced by some Motive, and necessarUy follows the strongest Motive ; and so is necessarily, even in that act wherein alone it is either virtuous or vicious. One thing more I would observe concerning the incon sistence of Arminian notions of moral agency with the influ ence of Motives. — I suppose none will deny, that it is possible for such powerful Motives to be sef before the mind, exhibited in so strong a light, and under such advantageous circumstances, as to beinvincible ; and such as the raind cannot but yield to. In this case, Arminians will doubtless say, liberty is destroyed. And if so, then if Motives are exhibit^ with half so much power, they hinder liberty in proportion to their strength, and go halfway towards destroying it. If a thousand degrees of Motive abolish all liberty, then five hundred take it half away. If one degree of fhe influence of Motive does not at all infringe or diminish liberty, then no more do two degrees ; for nothing doubled, is still nothing. And if two degrees do npt diminish the will's liberty, no more do four, eight, sixteen, or six thou sand. For nothing however multipUed comes to but nothing. If there be nothing in the nature of motive or moral suasion, thaf is at all opposite to liberty, then the greatest degree of it cannot hurt liberty. But if there "be somewhat, in the. nature of the thing, against liberty, then the least degree of it hurts in some degree ; and consequently diminishes virtue. If invin cible Motives to that action which is good, take away all the freedom of the act, and so all the virtue of it ; then the more forcible the Motives are, so much fhe wor^, so much the less virtue ; and the weaker the Motives are, the better for the cause of virtue ; and none is best of all. Now let if be considered, whether these things are agree able to common sense. If it sliould be allowed, that there are some instances wherein fhe soul chooses without any Motive, what virtue can there be in such a choice ? I ara sure there is no prudence or wisdom in it. Such a choice is made for no 182 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT III. good end ; being, made for no end at all. If it were for any end, the view of the end would be the Motive exciting to the act ; and if the act be for no good end, and so frora no good aim, then there is no good intention in it ; and, therefore, ac cording to all our natural notions of virtue, np more virtue in it than in the motion of the smoke, which is driven to and fro by the wind, without any aim or end in the thing moved, and which knows not whither, nor wherefore, it is moved. Corol. 1. By these tilings it appears that the argumenf against the Calvinists, taken from the use of counsels, exhorta tions, invitations, expostulations, &c. so much insisted on by Arminians, is truly against themselves. For these things can operate no other way to any good effect, than as in thera is exhibited Motive and Inducement, tending to excite and de termine the acts of the will.* But if follows, on their prin- * The true reason why counsels, exhortations, fee. coramonly called motives,; are consistent with the doctrine of necessity held by Calvinists, may be here no ticed, in addition to sorae hints before given. In order to this, we must guard against ambiguity in the word ' motive,' which at one time is intended for the ob ject exhibited, abstractedly considered ; at another, the object concretively, as it stands in this' view of the mind. , The opposers of that necessity for which our author pleads, must, in order to make even a show of consistency, understand the word ' motive' in the first of these acceptations. And if so, it is nothing marvel lous that they should maintain the existence of a power in th^ huraan mind which - can, on the one hand, successfully oppose the strongest possible -motive ; and on the other, be determined by a weaker, iind even soraetimes by the weakest raotive. For how often is the most insignificant bawble preferred to infinite excellence'! But consistent Calvinists do not understand the term in any such raanner, but ra ther as an effect compounded of the state of the mind and the real object. And, seeing the object in itself considered, is not changed by mental perception, the difference of the effect, or change of mental view, must arise from the mind itself. -Hence one motive, in the Arminian sense, may produce, in the other acceptation of the terra, a thousand different motives, according to the different mental states to , which the object is presented. "¦*¦ Therefore counsels, exhortations, invitations, &c. are raost rationally em ployed by Calvinists ; for that which determines the hiiman will to action, is the motive as it is pere ived, or that which results from an application of the object to the mind. According to them, without an object presented there can be no -motive, any more than there can be a motiue without a mind to which it is presented. — Without'evangelical truth, and an evangelical raind or disposition^ there can be no evangelical determining raotive. Consequently, if the mind be at all roused from ignorance and apathy, determining motives raust be produced in it by a representai tion of objects, by counsels, exhortations, invitations, expostulations, &c. These will succeed or tail of success, morally, according to the state of the mind. But as the ag^t is free from co-action, constraint, and compulsion, in the act of choos ing, the true inference is — .not that such use of the raeans is unsuitable or incon sistent, but — that here is clearly irapUed the great necessity, the rationality, and the perfect consistency nf prayer to the Goi! of grace, for success on the use of means. Paul may plant, and Apollos may water, but God giveth the increase.^- To influence the raind without moral motives, is the prerogative of God Alf hearts are in his hand to firm them as he pKjases. If the tree be good by sovereign iniluenee, or a new birth, the fruit of love to God and hatred to sin, holy fear, un feigned faith, humble hope, &c. will follow, according to the objects presented. — A crop will not follow without the union of two things, seed and suU If both be good, the crop will be good, but not otherwise. That motive which determines the will, cannot arise from any other cause than the object and the disposition united. And then only can the determining motive be good, when it results from a good Sect. vii. Arminian Notions of moral Agency, <^c. 183 ciples, that the acts of will excited by such causes, cannot be virtuous ; because, so far as they are from these, they are not from the will's self-determining power. Hence it wUl follow, that it is not worth while to offer any arguments to per suade men to any virtuous vohtion or voluntary action ; it is in vain to set before thera the wisdom and amiableness of ways of virtue, or the odiousness and folly of ways of vice. — This notion of liberty and moral agency frustrates all en deavours to draw men to virtue by instruction or persuasion, precept or example : for though these things may induce them to what is materially virtuous, yet at the same time they take away the form of Virtue, because they destroy Liberty : as they by their own power put the will out of its equUibrium, determine and turn the scale, and take the work of self-deter mining power out of its hands. And the clearer the instruc tions given, the more powerful the arguraents used, and the more moving the persuasions or examples, the more likely they are fo frustrate their own design ; because they have so much the greater tendency to put the will out of its balance, to hinder its freedom of self-determination ; and so to exclude the very form of virtue, and the essence of whatsoever is praise worthy. So it clearly follows from these principles, thaf God has no hand in any man's virtue, nor does at aU promote it, either by a physical or mt)ral influence ; that notae of the moral me thods he uses with men to promote virtue in the world have any tendency to the attainment of that end ; that all the in structions he has given men from the beginning of the world to this day, by prophets or apostles, or by his Son Jesus Christ ; that all his counsels, invitations, promises, threatenings, warn- ings.and expostulations ; that all means he has used with men in ordinances, or providences ; yea, all influences of his Spirit, ordinary and extraordinary, have had no tendency at all to ex cite any one -virtuous act of the mind, or to promote any thing morally good and commendable in any respect. — For there is no way that these or any other means can promote virtue, but one of these three. Either (1.) By a physical operation on the heart. But all effects that are wrought in men in this way, have no virtue in tbem, by the concurring voice-of all Arminians Or, (3.) Morally, by exhibiting Motives to the understanding, to excite good acts in the wUl. But it has been demonstrated, that volitions excited by Motives, are necessary, and not ex cited by a self-moving power ; and therefore, by their prin ciples, there is no Virtue in them. Or, (3.) By merely giving object applied to a good disposition, or state of mind. These things duly con sidered, will sufficiently prove wAg Calvjnists use counsels, exhortations, ipvita- tions, &c W. 184 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT III. the wUl an opportunity to determine itself concerning the ob jects proposed, either fo choose or reject, by its own uncaused, unmoved, uninfluenced self-determination. And if this be all, then all those means do no more fo promote virtue than vice : for they do nothing but give the will opportunity to deterriiine itseli either way, either to good or bad, without laying it under any bias to either : and so there is reaUy as much of an oppor tunity given to determine in favour of evil as of good. Thus that horrid blasphemous consequence wiU certainly follow from the Arminian doctrine, which they charge on others ; namely, that God acts an inconsistent part in using so many , counsels, warnings^ invitations, intreaties, &c. with sinners, to induce them to forsake sin,-and turn to the ways of virtue ; and that all are insincere and fallacious. It will foUow, from their doctrine, that God does these things when he knows, at the same time, that fhey have no manner of tendency to promote the effect he seems to aim at ; yea, knows fhat if they have any influence, this very influence will be inconsistent with such an effect, and will prevent it. But what an imputa tion of insincerity would this fix on him, who is infinitely holy and true ! — So that theirs is the doctrine which, if pursued in its consequences, does horribly reflect on the Most High, and fix on him the charge of hypocrisy ; and not the doctrine of fhe Calvirtist according fo their frequent and vehement excla* mations and invectives. Corol. 2. From what has been observed in this section,. it again appears, that Arminian principles and notions, when fairly examined and pursued in their demonstrable conse quences, do evidently shut all virtue out of the world, and make if impossible that there should ever be any such thing, in any case; or that any such thing should ever be conceived of For, by these principles, the very notion of virtue or vice implies absurdity and contradiction. For it is absurd in itself, and contrary to comraon sense, to suppose a virtuous act of mind without any good intention or aim ; and, by their princi ples, it is absurd to suppose a virtuous act with a good inten tion or aim ; for to- act for an end, is fo act from a Motive. So that if we rely on these principles, there can be no virtuous act with a good design and end ; and it is self-evident, there can be none without : consequently there can be no virtuous act at all. Corol. 3. It is manifest, fhat Arminian notions of moral I agency, and the. being of a faculty of wUl, cannot consist to gether ; and fhat if there be any such thing as either a vir- I tuous or vicious act, it cannot be an act of the will ; no wiU can be at all concerned in if. For that act which is performed without inchnation, without Motive, withouf end, must be per- ^med without any concern of the will. To suppose an act Sect. vu. Arminian Notions qf moral Agency, '^-c. 18,5 of the vvill without these, implies a contradiction. If the soul in its act has no motive or end; then, in that act (as was ob served before) it seeks nothing, goes after nothing, exerts na inclination to any thing; and this implies, that in that act it desires nothing, and chooses nothing ; so that there is no act of choice in the case : and that is as much as to say, there is no act of will in the case. Which very effectually shuts all vicious and \ irtuous acts out of the universe ; in as much as, according to this, there can be no vicious or virtuous act wherein the will is concerned : /ind according to the plainest di«tates.of reason, and the light (?i' noTnfffTrnm alsft-the-iJi-in- ciples ot: Arminians themselves, there, can . lie. no—iurtuaus or vicious 'act — wherein the will is not concerned. And therefore thefe is no room for any virtuous or vicious acts^ -n,l]t_ — Corol. 4. If none ofthe moral actions of intelligent beings are influenced by either previous Inclination or Motive, another strange thing will follow ; and this is, that God not only cannot foreknow any of the future moral actions of his creatures, but he can make no conjecture, can give no probable guess con cerning them. For, all conjecture in things of this nature, must depend on some discerning or apprehension of these two things, previous Disposition and Motive, which, as has been observed, Arminian notions of moral agency, in their re*l con- Snjouence. altogether exclude. VOL. II. 24 IS.6 PREEDOH OF 'Hp; WIL];.. Part iv. PART IV. WHEREIN THE CHIEF GROUNDS* OF THE REASONINGS OF AR&tf. NIANS, IN SUPPORT AND DEFENCE OF THE FOjtEMEN- TlONED NOTIONS OF LIBERTY, MORAL AGENCY, &c. AND AGAINST THE OPPOSITE DOCTRINE, ARE CONSIDERED. SECT. I. The Essence of the Virtue and Vice of Dispositions of the Heart, and Acts ofthe Will, lies not in their Cause, but their Nature.* One main foundation of the reasons which are brought to establish fhe forementioned notions of liberty, virtue, vice, 1/ * This may appear to some to be an idaitical proposition — '• The essence of a thing Ues in its nature ;" but it is not whoUy so, and the whole of the proposi tion is exceedingly iraportant, on account of the negative part, or the incidental proposition it contains, viz. The essence of virtue and vice Ues not in their cause. * A smgle consideration raay be sufficient to shew the truth and importance of one part of this last proposition. If the essence of virtue lay in its cause, how could the first cause, or the uncaused nature, be virtuous ! If therefore the^rsf cause be virtuous, or have the essence of virtue, as all theists will allow, it is plain, that essence must Ue in the nature of that cause itself. Henee, as God is the standard of all moral exceUence, created natures are moraUy exceUent in propor tion as they resemble him. And as virtue is an imitable exceUence, and ae no good reason can be assigned why the resemblance should not hold in this parti cular, it is highly probable, a priori, that, in reference to created natures, the es sence of their virtue lies not in its cause. To demonstrate this last, is the design of the present section. Again, as the essence of -virtue lies not in its cause, so neither does the es sence of -vite lie in its ceruse. But the philosophical ground of this part of the ge neral proposition deraands more particular attention. And as this proposition — " the essence of vice lies not in its cause," affects the whole system of morals, and indeed of theology, we beg leave to propose a series of remarks which, it is hoped, wiU cast some light on the subject. 1. Causes are of two hinds, and of two only, either positive or neg(dive. Positive causes produce positive effects, from the first cause through all secon dary causes ; and these positive secondary causes are nothing else but so many decretive antecedents, which act physicdly, and their consequences foUow frem the nature of things ; even as niunber follows the repetition of units, or hoppi- tms tmviis from tiue virtue. Seu i. 1. Kjf tne J^ssence of Virtue and Vice. 187 &c. is a supposition, that the virtuousness of the dispositions, or acts of the will, consists not in the nature of fhese dispo- 2. The term " cause" is appUed less properly to express a negative idea ; for it expresses merely an antecedent of a consequent. For instance, if we say that a man cannot read because he is blind, or cannot walk, because he has no legs, or cannot go to heaven because he does not love God, and the like ; it is manifest that blindness, want of legs, and want of love to God, are "causes" only as ante cedents are causes to their consequents, without positive influence. 3. Negative causes, though they have no positive operation in producing their consequents, are no less the ground of cerfainfi/ than those causes, properly so called, which exist in physical operations. For the consequent follows the an tecedent with equal certainty, whether the connection be formed by decretive wiil and energy, as in aU positive causes, or by the nature of things only, which is essential truth, as in all negative causes. 4. The cause of vicious acts, is a vicious disposition ; in other words, it is the want, or the absence of a virtuous disposition. The essence of the vicious act, however, is not in the cause, or disposition. The vice of the disposition is one thing, and the vice of the act is another. For as the -nature of the disposition, and the nature of the act, are different; so'the vice, or moral badness ofthe one, is a diflerent badness from that of the other. The one and the other is a Sad thing whatever be the cause, and irrespective of any. Hence, 5. Evil dispositions or acts should be denominated such, not frora their cause, but from their nature. Were it otherwise, personal fault, or blarae, could never exist ; for the vicious act would transfer the blarae to the disposition, and the dis position to the cause of that ; whereby persons would be free from blame, and this would attach to principles only. But to suppose a raoral agent incapable of blaraeworthiness, which on the supposition would be the case, is a gross absur dity. It would be to suppose an accountable being, who at the same time can be accountable for nothing ; and it would be to impute blame to principles, or a principle, which is incapable of moral agency. 6. The cause of virtuous ocfs, or, if we may so speak, the soil in which they grow, is a previous incUnation or disposition to good, before any actual choice takes place. ¦ This may be called a -virtuous inclination, or disposition. But the original and predisposing cause of that, is divine energy, influx, or influence ; in other words, an assimilating emanation from the holy nature and decretive will of God. 7. Nevertheless, this is not a good, or a virtue, attributable lo man, until he is actually possessed of it, or it becomes his, as a quality of his nature. God, the Father of lights, from whom every good and perfect gift proceedeth, is the cause of that virtuous disposition ; but while the virtue remained in tho cause, and not in the man, it was no human virtue. Nor does the essence of human virtue lie in the commumcation itself^ for this was the efiect of divine will ; but no will can alter the nature of virtue : therefore, the essence of virtue consists not in the cause, whether we understand by "cause," the lotH that communicates the vir tuous disposition, or the commtmicatum itself. Consequently, the absence of virtue is so completely confined to the disposition of the agent, and the consequent acts, as to exclude every thing else that may be terraed its cozisc. 8. The cause of vicious acts, whatever it be, is opposite to the cause of vir tuous acta ; for these acts have diametrically opposite effects. That vicious acts have a cause, as weU as virtuous ones, cannot be denied by any reflecting person, for this plain reason, that there is nothing in the universality of things, beings, qualities, &c. but has a cause, either.positive or negative, as before explained. Neither agency, liberty, nor any thing else, considered as an effect or a con sequent, can exist without a cause, or antecedent. The denial of this, and universal scepticism, are the same thing. Then all reasoning, and all common sense, vanish. Then body and spirit, cause and effects, good and evil, &c. are huddled up in endless confusion, without either first or last, great or small, order or proportion. 9. The original predisposing cause of a vicious disposition, is the very oppo site of the original, predisposing cause of a virtuous disposition. This last, it has been shewn, is divine energy, which is a positive cause ; the other, the opposite of this, is a negative cause. The cause of good, as before observed, is a cause 188 TREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaKT IV, sitions, or acts of the will, but wholly in the Origin or Cause of them : so that ifthe disposition ofthe mindyjr acts of the wiU, be properly id called, inthe way of physical influence; but the cause of evil is caUed " a cause" improperly, as it implies no physical influence, but onty stands as an antecedent to a consequent ; from which however the consequent may be inferred with as much certainty as if the influence were physical arid mechanical. Whe ther you suppose positive quantities, or negative quantities, consequences are equally certain, it is no less true that 5—2=3, than 3+3=6. Whether you say, Ifthe sun werenot, it would cause darkness ; or say, ifthe sun shine, it wiUcause light; the diflerence is onty in the nafure of the cause, as either positive or nega tive, not in the certainty of the consequence. 10. It would be very absurd and contradictory to say that the cause of vice is vicious. For that would be the same as to say, that a thing was before it existed. To be vicious is to have vic£; and for this to be the cause of vice, is for it to be the cause of itself, or self-earned, which is absurd. It is therefore impossible that the cause of vice should be vicious ; consequently the essence of nice is no where but in its own proper nature, to the exclusion of evei-y cause whatever. And yet, as it is an effect, it must have a cause. 11. The principal question to be deterrained in this investigation is. What is precisely the origmal, predisposing, negative cause of a vicious disposition ? The answer is plain and short ; it is that property ofa creature which renders it absolute ly dependent for its being and well-being. Or, it is that property which is the very opposite to independence, self-sufficiency,,andimmutabiUty: and therefore is a pro perty peculiar to a creature, and cannot belong to God. 12. Nor can thjs be said to be an actually existing property from eternity : since it cannot belong to God, and nothing, the only alternative, has no property. It is not therefore the Manichean eternal evil principle, if by this be meant any thing actually existing, as coeval with a good principle. Good is a principle positively eternal ; but what we speak of is a mere negative principle, and owes its eocistenoe as a property to a created nature ; and were every creature annihilated, this property would also cease to be. 13. But what shall we call this principle, property, or predisposing came of vice 1 Shall we call it defectibility, defect, limitation, or imperfection of existence ? Not the first : for the question would return. What makes a creature defectible ? Not the second ; for the term is ambiguous, as there are several kinds of defect, natural and moral, and therefore, as the word is of common use, and of frequent occurrence, it would require perpetual explanations. Not the third, or the fourth ; tor the same reason. A term therefore not ambiguous, and sufficiently expressive should be employed ; as we employ technical terras to express a specific object. For this purpose, no term, perhaps, is less exceptionable or more suitable than TjLSSivE POWER ; for it IS free from ambiguity, and is sufficiently expressive of the idea already explained. The idea of passieili/ is clearly implied in the name, asin the thing ; and the term power seems preferable to property, or quality, because less ambiguous, and yet more expressive to convey the intended idea of metaphysical influence of cause and effect. 14. To which we may add. That " passive power" is by no means a new- coined expression ; but has often been used to express the very idea to which it is here applied. Thus, above a century and a half ago, that eminently pious and profbundly learned divine, Theophilus Gale, in his "Court ofthe Gentiles," says: " The root and origin of all creatural dependence, is the creature's/jossive jootcer and Cod's absolute dorainion over it. — Now all limits as to nature and essence speak a •mixture of nihility, ;)a,5sii;e ^ouier, and dependence resulting therefrom ; whence Damascene adds, ' Movov -y,!^ ro 6im ajr«6« fra/, The deity only is impassible ;' name ly, because exempt from nihility, passive power, and dependence. This nihility, or nothingness of the creature, is the same with its passive power either physic or -metaphysic, natural or obediental : whereby it is liraited, and confined to such or such a degiee of e-ntity, existence, and operation. (Court of Gent. Part IV. b. ii. ch. si. }4.) 15. Now that the essence of vice consisteth not in this property is plain, in that passive power is essential to a creature, which vice neither is nor can be. It is the soil in which vice grows, and without which it could not grow, or have c.xistPBCe, bnt is riot itaelf-it'cions; otherwise we should be forced to seek the cause »ECT. I. Uf the Essence of Virtue and Vice. 189 never so good, yet if the Cause of thc disposition or act be not our virtue, there is nothing virtuous or praiseworthy in it ; »-/ of that cause in perpetual retrogradation, and move from one difficulty to another into endless absurdity. Ths predisposing cause of vice, therefore, is passive power, which in itself is not vicious, or morally evil. Buc how moral evil came to exist, and what is its true arigi'i, wiU be raore conveniently considered in a subsequent part of this work. 16. As the essence of tho virtue and vice of lisposition.i and acts lios not in their cause, so neither does it lie in their effects : that is, dispositions and .acts are not to be denominated virtuous or vicious on account of their effects o. conse quences, such as their being productive of happin'3a.^ or nii'iery. For as tho pro perties of iny thing must be different from those of its cause, however similar, so raust those properties differ from their effects. The immediate effect of virtue is — not happiness to the individual, for instance, but — that the agent is approvable, or praiseworthy. Bnt were the essence of virtue to consist in " its tendency to ulti mate happiness," as sorae have affirraed, immediate approbation and praise could not be safely given to any individual act or disposition, as its relation to ultiraate happiness could not be ascertained but by the final event. Ifthe essence of the virtue or vice were not in the act or disposition, but to be denorainated frora its ef fects, raany other absurdities would follow. For instance, 17. On that supposition, the supreme excellence of Jehovah would not be ap provable and -praiseworthy on its own account, or its intrinsic exceUency, but only because of its effects and consequences. On that principle, to hate God would be nothing bad, it would have no intrinsic deraerit ; or to love God would be nothing good, nothing in itself praiseworthy, were it not for consequences. Which is not only absurd, but blasphemous also and shocking. IS. That sentiraent is evidently founded on the supposition that every thing, property, quality and event, is the fruit of AVne -loUl; and therefore that every thing must be equally good in Us -If, though relatively good br bad to the individual: even as matter and motion, and their laws, are equally gopd in themselves, but not relatively so to the individuals who sijffer from them. But this is a great mistake, as it confounds things totally distinct in their nature, sucA as positive and nega tive causes, natural necessity and moral certainty. Decretive positions and their consequences are one ground of certainty ; negative causes and their consequences are another ; therefore, from the certainty of result in the divine view we cannot rightly infer that all results are decreed. Decretive positions comprehend neither negative causes, nor the natuye of things. For an intelligent being to love God, is agreeable to tho Jiafure of things ; it is what ov^ht to be independent of any decre tive position or legal demand in reference to the case. In like manner, for an in telligent being to hate God, is a voluntary contradiction to the nature of things-t-or the essence of eternal truth, which is above all will, or is not founded in will— tae well as to constituted law. Again, ' 19. To deny thc " intrinsic merit and demerit of voluntary actions indepes- dent on their consequences," as some do,* is to deny the nature of things ; and this is nothing less than an attempt to divide eternal unity, to give the he direct to essential truth, and to convert the first uncaused essence into contradictory coil- tingencies. The nature of things is nothing else, radicaUy, but the nature of G()d, which is essential truth as well as essential goodness. Decretive positions, or aa arbitrary constitution of these things by divine will, therefore can no raore alter the intrinsic raerit or demerit of actions, affections, habits, or characters, than divine will can alter the character of essential truth, or choose i eai contradictions. More over, 20. Ultimate happiness is the effect or consequence of virtue as a reward. Now to make the merit or exceUence of virtue to depend on ultimate happiness, while happiness is the reward of virtue, is most inconsistent ; it is to -reward for nothing rewardable. If virtue be not of intrinsic worth, it must be a me>-'- moral no thing as to rewardableness, and therefore ultimate happiness would be a reward for a raere moral nothing ; that is, ha-ppiness would be no reward, which is contra dictory. * Belsham'.? Rlements, p. 309. i90 - PREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT IV. and, on the contrary, if the wiU, in its inclinations or acts, be never so bad, yet, unless if arises from something that is our vice or fault, there is nothing vicious or blameworthy in it. Hence their grand objection and pretended demonstration, or self-evidence, against any virtue or commendableness, or vice and blame-worthiness, of those habits or acts ofthe wUI, which are not from some virtuous or vicious determination of the will itself Now, if this matter be well considered, it wUl appear fo be altogether a mistake, yea, a gross absurdity ; and that it is most certain, that if there be any such thing as a virtuous or vicious disposition, or volition of mind, fhe virtuousness br vicious ness of them consists not in the Origin or Cause of these things, but in the -Nature of them. If the Essence of virtuousness or commendableness, and of viciousness or fault, does not he in the Nature of the dispo sitions or acts of mind, which are said to be our vir.tue or our fault, but in their Cause, then it is certain it lies no where at all. Thus, for instance, if the vice of a vicious act of wiU, lies not in the Nature of the act, but the Cause ; so that its being of a bad Nature will not make it at all our fault, unless it arises from some faulty determination of ours as its Cause, or some thing in us thaf is our fault ; then, for the same reason, neither can the viciousness of that Cause lie in the Nature of the thing itself, but in its Cause : that evil determination of ours is not our fault, merely because if is of a bad Nature, unless it arises from some Cause in us that is our fault. And when we are come to this higher Cause, still the reason of the thing holds good ; though this Cause be of a bad Nature, yet we are nof at all to blame on thaf account, unless it arises from something faulty in us. Nor yet can blameworthiness lie in the Nature of this Cause, but in the Cause of that. And thus we must drive faultiness back from step to step, from a lower Cause to a high er, in infinitum : and that is thoroughly to banish it from the 21. As to vice, its consequence is punishment. If indeed this consequence were the mere effect of arbitrary positions, or sovereign appointment ; if it were the plan of God first to cause the existence of vice, and then to punish the subject of it, as what the good of the whole required; there would be great plausibility in ^he sentiraent we oppose. But the assumption itself is fundamentally errone ous. It confounds hypothetical antecedents, as the whole of decretive plans raay be termed, with that eternal truth which connects them with their conse quences.. To suppose the hatred of God, for instance, to have no intri-nsic de merit in it, or that it is bad only as dependent on its co-nsequences ; is the same as to say, it is agreeable to the nature of things, conformable to eternal truth, that God should be hated, and therefore that he must approve of it — only to the agent it is attended with bad consequences. That is, on the supposition, God has ap pointed misery as the consequent, for doing nothing that is in itself bad ; yea for doing what is perfectly innocent, agreeable to the nature of things, conformable to eternal truth, and acceptable to G(5d, as every thing which he appoints must be. Whether such a sentiment be nearest a-kin to " profound philosophy," or to something else, let the competent reader judge. — W. Sect. i. Of the Essence of Virtue and Vice. 191 world, and to allow it no possibility of existence any where in the universality of things. On these principles, vice, or moral evU, cannot consist in any thing that is an effect ; hecanse fault does not consist in the Nature of things, but in their Cause ; as well as because effects are necessary, being unavoidably connected with their Cause : therefore the Cause only is to blame. And so it follows, thaf faultiness can lie only in that Cause which is a Cause only, and no effect of any thing. Nor yet can it lie in this ; for then it must lie in the Nature of fhe thing itself ; not in its being from any determination of ours, nor any thing faulty in us which is the Causey nor indeed from any Cause at all ; for, by the supposition, it is no effect, and has no Cause. And thus, he thaf will maintain it is not the Nature of habits or acts of will that makes them virtuous or faulty, but fhe Cause, must immediately run himself out of his own assertion ; and in maintaining it, will insensibly contradict an.d deny it. This is certain, that if effects are vicious and faulty, not from their Nature or from any thing inherent in them, but because they are from a bad Cause, if must be on account Ox the badness of the Cause : a bad effect in the will must be bad, because the Cause is bad, or of an evil Nature, or has badness as a quality inherent in if : and a good effect in fhe will must be good, by reason of the goodness of the Cause, or its being ofa good Kind and Nature. And if this be what is meant, the very supposition of fault and praise lying not in the Nature of the thing, but the Cause, contradicts itself, and does at least resolve the Essence of virtue and vice into the Nature of things, and supposes it originally to consist in that. — And if a caviller has a mind to run from the absurdity, by saying, " No, the fault of the thing, which is the Cause, lies not in this fhat the Cause itself is of an evil Nature, but thaf the Cause is evil in thaf sense, that it is from another bad Cause." StiU the absurdity will follow him; for, if so, then the Cause before charged is at once acquitted, and all the blame must be laid to the higher Cause, and must consist in thaf being evil, or of an evil Nature. So now, we are come again to lay the blame of the thing blameworthy fo the Nature of the tiling, and not to the Cause. And if any is so foolish as fo go higher still, and ascend from step to step, till ¦ he is come fo that which is the first Cause concerned in fhe whole affair, and wUl say, all the blame lies in that ; then at last he must be forced to own, that the faultiness of the thing, which he supposes alone blame worthy, lies wholly in the Nature of the thing, and not in the Original or Cause of it ; for the supposition is, fhat it has no Original, if is determined by no act of ours, is caused by nothing faulty in us, being absolutely without any Cause,— 193 FREEDOM Of THE^WILL. PaRT IV. And so the race is at an end, but the evader is taken in his fiight. It is agreeable to the natural notions of mankind, that moral evU, with its desert of dislike and abhorrence, and all its other ill deservings, consists in a certain deformity in the Nature of certain dispositions of the heart, and acts of the will ; and not in the deformity of something . else, diverse from the very thing itself, which deserves abhorrence, supposed to be the Cause of it. Which wouid be absurd, because that would be to suppose a thing that is innocent and not evil, is truly evil and faulty, because another thing is evil. It implies a contra diction : for it would be to suppose the very thing which is morally evil and blameworthy, is innocent and not blame worthy ; but that something else, which is its Cause, is only to blame. To say, that vice does not consist in the thing which is vicious, but in its Cause, is the same as to say, that vice does not consist in vice, but in that which produces it. It is true a Cause may be to blame, for being the Cause of vice : it may be wickedness in the Cause that it produces wickedness. But it would imply a contradiction to suppose that these two are the same individual wickedness. The wicked act of the Cause in producing wickedness, is one wick edness ; and the wickedness produced, if there be any pro duced, is another. And therefore fhe wickedness of the latter does not lie in the former, but is distinct from it ; and the wick edness of both hes in the evil Nature of the things vvhich are wicked. The thing which makes sin hateful, is that by whieh if deserves punishment ; which is but the expression of hatred. — And that which renders virtue lovely, is that on account of which it is fit to receive praise and reward ; which are but the expressions of esteem and love. But thaf which makes vice hateful, is its hateful Nature ; and thaf which renders virtue lovely, is its amiable Nature. It is a certain beauty or defor mity that are inherent in fhat good or evil wiU, which is the soul oi virtue and vice (and not in the occasion of it) which is their worthiness of esteem or disesteem, praise or dispraise, according to the common sense of mankind. If the Cause or occasion of the rise of an hateful disposition or act of wiU, be also hateful ; suppose another antecedent evil will ; that is entirely another sin, and deserves punishment by itself, under a distinct consideration. There is worthiness of dispraise in the Nature of an evil volition, and not wholly in some fore^ going act, which is its Cause ; otherwise the evU volition, which is the effect, is no moral evil, any more than sickness, or some other natural calamity, which arises from a Cause morally evil. S-RCT. I. Of the Essence of Virtue and Vice. 193 Thus, for instance, ingratitude is hateful and worthy oi dispraise, according to common sense ; not because some thing as bad, or worse than ingratitude, was the Cause that produced it, but because it is hateful in itself, by its own inherent deformity. So the love of virtue is amiable and worthy of praise, not merely because something else went before this love of virtue in our minds, which caused it to take place there — for instance our own choice ; we chose to love virtue, and, by some method or other, wrought ourselves into the love of it — but because of the amiableness and condes- cendency of such a disposition and inclination of heart. If that was the case, that we did choose fo love virtue, and so pro duced that love in ourselves, this choice itself could be no otherwise amiable or praiseworthy, fhan as love to virtue, or some other amiable inclination, was exercised and implied in it. If that choice was amiable at all, it must be so on account of some amiable quality in the Nature of the choice. If we choose to love virtue, not in love to virtue, or any thing that was good, and exercised no sort of good disposition in the choice, the choice itself was not virtuous, nor worthy of any praise, ac cording to common sense, because the choice was not of a good Nature. It may not be improper here to take notice of something said by an author, that has lately made a mighty noise in America. " A necessary holiness (says he*) is no holiness. — Adam could nof be originaUy created in righteousness and true holiness, because he must choose to be righteous, before he could be righteous. And therefore he must exist, he must be created, yea, he must exercise thought and reflection, before he was righteous." There is much more to fhe same effect, (p. 437, 438, 439, 440.) If these things are so, it will certainly foUow, that the first choosing to be righteous is no righteous choice ; there is no righteousness or holiness in it ; because no choosing to be righteous goes before it. For he plainly speaks of choosing to be righteous, as what must go be fore righteousness ; and that which follows the choice, being the effect of the choice, cannot be righteousness or hoUness : for an effect is a thing necessary, and cannot prevent the in fluence or efficacy of its Cause : and therefore is unavoid ably dependent upon the Cause: and he says a necessary holiness is no holiness. So that neither can a choice of righte ousness be righteousness or hohness, nor can any thing that is consequent on that choice, and the effect of it, be righteous ness or holiness ; nor can any thing that is without choice, be righteousness or holiness. So that by his scheme, aU righte ousness and holiness is at once shut out of the world, and ilo * Scrip. Doc. of Original Sin. p. 180, 3d. Edit. . t VOL. II. "2^ 194 i'REEDOM OF THE WILL, PaRT IV door left open, by which it can ever possibly enter into the world, I suppose the way that men came to entertain this ab surd notion-^wifh respect to internal inclinations and volitions themselves, (or notions that imply 'it,) viz. that the essence of their moral good or evil lies not in their Nature, but their Cause — was, that it is indeed a very plain dictate of common sense, that it is so with respect fo all outward actions and sensible motions of the body ; that the moral good or evil of them does not lie at all in the motions themselves,, which, taken by themselves, are nothing of a moral nature ; and the Essence of aU the moral good or evU that concerns them lies in those internal dispositions and vohtions which are the Cause of them. Now, being always used to determine this, without hesitation or dispute, concerning external Actions, which in the common use of language are signified by such phrases as men's actions or their doings ; hence, when they came to speak of volitions, and internal exercises of their inclinations, under the same denominations of their actions, or what they do, they unwarUy determined the case must also be the same with these as with external actions; not considering the vast difference in the Nature ofthe case. If any shall still object and say, why is it not necessary that the cause should be considered, in order to determine whether any thing be worthy of blame or praise ? is if agreeable to rea son and common sense, that a man is to be praised or blamed for that of which he is not the Cause or author? I answer, such phrases as being the Cause, being the au thor, and the like, are ambiguous. They are most vulgarly un derstood for being the designing voluntary Cause, or Cause by antecedent choice : and it is most certain, that men ate not, in this sense, the Causes or authors of the first act of their wills, in any case ; as certain as any thing is, or ever can be ; for nothing can be more certain, than that a thing is not be fore it is, nor a thing of the same kind before the first thing of that kind ; and so no choice before the first choice. — As the phrase, being the author, may be understood, not of being the producer by an antecedent act of wiU; but as a person may be said to be the author of the act of will itself, by his being the immediate agent, or the being that is acting, or in exer cise in that act ; if the phrase of being the author, is used to signify this, then doubtless common sense requires men being fhe authors of their own acts of will, in order to their being es teemed worthy of praise or dispraise on account of them. And common sense teaches that they must be the authors of exter nal actions in the former sense, namely, their being the Causes of them by an act of will or choice, in order to their being just ly blamed or praised : but it teaches no such thing with respect Sect. n. Of the Essence of Virtue and Vice. 195 to the acts of the will themselves— But this may appear mora manifest by the things which will be observed in the following section. ^ECT. 11. The Falseness and Inconsistence of that metaphysical Notion cf Action, and Agency, which seems to be generally enter tained by the Defenders of the Arminian Doctrine concern ing Liberty, moral Agency, <^c. One thing that is made very much a ground of argument and supposed demonstration by Arminians, in defence of the forementioned principles, concerning moral Agency, Virtue, Vice, &c. is their metaphysical notion of Agency and Action. They say, unless the soul has a self-determining power, it has no power of Action ; if its volitions be not caused by itself, but are excited and determined by some extrinsic cause, they cannot be the souPs own acts ; and that the soul cannot be active, but must be wholly passive, in those effects of which if is the subject necessarily, and not from its own free determination. Mr. Chubb lays the foundation of his scheme of liberty and of. his arguments to support it, very much in this position, that man is an Agent and capable of Action. Which doubt iess is true : but self-determination belongs to his notion of Action, and is fhe very essence of it. Whence he infers, that it is impossible for a man to act and be acted upon, in the same thing, af the same time ; and that no Action can be the effect ofthe Action of another: and he insists, that a necessary Agent, or an Agent that is necessarily determined to act, is a plain contradiction.* * Were the human raind, indeed, not the subject ot either passive power, on the one hand, as the predisposing cause of vice ; or of divine holy influence, / on the other, as the predisposing cause of real virtue ; and were the determining motiae what some have represented it to be, the object it.-» J/, irrespective of tlii changeable state of the mind perceiving it ; the objection, that " a necessary agent is a plain contradiction," or, in other words, that man is no proper agent, would be unanswerable. For the rank and place of man in creation, and his re lative circumstances in the arrangement of providence, being the result of decre tive appointment, if he himself were not liable to any change but by the same ap • pointment, it would follow, that if the objects themselves determined him to choose, and to choose always according to the strongest raotive, his very volitions in the acta themselves would be necessitated decretively, to the exclusion of all hy pothetical or moral possibility of failure ; and therefore could nevej be erroneous, any more than the first cause could act erroneously. On such principles,^ moral evil, vice or fault, eould have no existence. No effect could be otherwise than good, amiable, and perfectly innocent ; a moral possibility of failnro licins; ox- 196 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT IV, But those are a precarious sort of demonstrations, which men build on fhe meaning thaf they arbitrarily affix fo a word ; eluded by natural necessity. For the volition itself to be so necessitated, and not in a moral or hypothetical manner only, is the same thing as giving it no oppor tunity of choice or preference, or constraining it to cho'ose one way by a settled purpose, with a natural impossibiUty of acting otherwise. But if every act of man be thus the result of settled purpose, why should he be blamed for any one act whatever ? He does nothing but what he is constrained, or decretively ne cessitated to perform, the contrary being rendered naturaUy impossible ; and if he deserves no praise, he can incur no blame, any raore than a clock tor not keep ing time. 'Such a necessary agent would be indeed a plain contradiction. There is much reason to apprehend that some philosophical necessarians have no better no tion of agency than that vvhich Mr. Chubb charges, and justly charges, with " a phiin contradiction." For those who hold the sentiment, that every act, even as to its moral quaUty, and every event, are of decretive appointraent, in subservien cy to ultimate good, must allow, in order to be tolerably consistent, that the su preme Being is " the only proper agent in the universe ;* and thus reduce human agency, and every thing else called agency in a creature, to an appointed necessai/y choice, however odiousln its nature, mischievous in its tendency, or painful in ex perience. Thus, according to them, God is the only proper agent in all foul crimes and horrid blasphemies, on earth and in hell ! They have a right to define their terms, and to say what they mean by agency in God, or in a creature, and to state their hypothesis accordingly ; but others also have a right to deduce the genuine consequences of that hypothesis, and to shew wherein its error Ues. — The design of these notes is not to excite a spirit of unprofitable controversy, but to assist the serious enquirer in detecting errors and recognizing truths of radical impor tance in Ethics and Theology ; and, it is hoped, that to prompte these ends the following observations raay conduce. 1. It is granted, that in reference to nofura! ocfs, the supreme Being is the " only proper agent in the universe," as they all spring from his energy. In this respect he is the first cause of all causes, efficiently ; and the description of the poet is philosophically just : He " Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze. Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees, Lives through all life, extends through aU extent, Spreads undivided, operates unspent." — Pope. 2. It is also granted, that, in all acts morcily good, the created agent is the Subject of necessity several ways. He has an active nafure from decretive neces sity, which it is not in his power to alter. He is also, accordingly, compelled to some act of choice, from the activity of his nature. He is, raoreover, the siibject of physical influence of a holy and purifying nature, whereby the good- 'ness of his choice is infalUbly secured ; and without which there could be no assignable ground of certainty that any action would be raoraUy good. There is also a necessity of connection, arising from the nature of things, or the essence of truth, first, between the disposition and the act, or that the act will be of the same nature, moraUy corisidered, with the disposition from which it proceeds ; and, secondly, between thc act and the end or consequent, which is happiness. 3. It is raoreover allowed, that in all acts moraUy evil, the soul is passive in re ference to that necessity of dependence which is inseparable frora a created nature, which may be called passive power; without which the existence of moral evil would be impossible. This necessity also arises from the nature of things, not from decree; for no decree can alter its existence, (though it raay, and actually does counteract it) any more than it can alter the state of a creature frpm depen dence into independence on the first cause. A creature without passive power involves the most palpable absurdities. For its verydefinition is " tliat property in a creature whereby it differs essentially from the independence, self-suflicience, and ihdefectibility of the Creator ;" and to deny it, is to suppose that a creature may be independent, seltsuflicient, and mdefectible — that in these respects the * Belsbam's Elements of the Philosophy of the Mind, p. 354. Sect. it. Of the Essence, of Virtue and Vice. 197 especially when that meaning is abstruse, inconsistent, and entirely diverse fi-om the original sense of the word in common speech. creature and the Creator are on a par — that a necessary and a contingent being are the same, in those very things which constitute their essential dif ference I Were it not for this property in an agent, he could never sin; for all his acts would be physically necessary, without any hypothetical medium, or mo ral alternative. 4. He is a moral agent, whose volitions might havc been otherwise than they are,i/the motives, and consequently the state ofhis mind, had been otherwise. But to suppose that his volitions might have been otherwise than they are, the rao tives and state of the mind being the same, would be to raake hira in his voli tions the sport of chance, or a mere nonentity. 5. He then is a moral agent who has, in reference to volition, a moraf aZf er- native, or a hypothetical possibiUty of a different choice. Where this alternative, or this possibiUty, is not, there the agent (if he may be so called) is not morally obUged, and therefore is not accountable. 6. But if so, where does the ground of such an alternative lie ? It lies in the agent's mind or the disposition whence the volition springs, and whence its cha racter is derived. If God influence the mind so as to raake it, in a given degree, to reserable his own moral nature ; in that degree would the choice raade be rao rally good. But if passive power be not counteracted by such influence, (which being gracious, God is not bound in equity to do) in any given degree, the nature . of things, the essence of truth, connects, in a corresponding degre«, the state of mind with the volition. • 7. Hence it is plain thaf mora^ in^ucBce, as such, effects nothing certain; but always requires a previous state of raind, in order to ensure a certainty of good effect ; and that previous state of raind is effected by no other possible means but a physical energy or agency, producing assimUation. There must be a virtu ous raind before a virtuous choice ; the quality of the act is derived from the agent. 8. One thing, which has been a source of much obscurity and confusion in reference to moral agency, is the supposition that the mind is equally, free in aU re spects, when choosing good and when choosing evil ; in other words, that the one volition and the other become raoraUy certain, frora the same sort of necessity. But this is, not the real case. Indeed the necessity of connection between the previous state of the raind and the corresponding volition, is the sarae ; for it is in each ease nothing else but the nature of things ; but f^necessifj/ which eflects a state of mind previous to good vohtions, is as different from the otlier necessity which effects a state of mind previous to vohtions moraUy evil, as light is from darkness. They proceed from opposite quarters, and operate in contrary' direc tions. A holy disposition is generated by decretive holy influence ; the other dis position (which ought not however to be called unholy) proceeds from the hypo thetical nature of things. Such a disposition, though not morally vicious, yet generates vice in union with free agency. 9. It is highly worthy of remark, that though a good volition raust proceed from a good heart, moraUy considered ; yet a bad volition does not, originally and necessarily, proceed from a morally bad heart. The reason is, that the one state of heart proceeds frora God, from his decretive holy will ; the other proceeds frora passive power, which is only a natural evil, and not a.moral. Besides were the disposition which immediately precedes a bad volition necessarily, or in every case, evil, in a moral sense, either moral evil could have no place at aU in the universe, no origin whatever, or else it must be the same as passive power. But passive power is a contrast, not to the moral perfections of God, but his natural ; and has, when alone, no moral quality. And seeing it belongs as a property to every creature, as such, were it any thing morally evil, moral evil would be essen tial to the very being of every creature ; which is absurd. 10. Hence it is plain, that freedora is experienced in a higher sense, or a greater degree, in bad vohtions, than in good ones ; in such a sense, and to such a degree, as to justify this mode of expression — that man is necessitated to good, but free to evil. This however may need some explanatory qualification ; for 198 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT IV. Thatthe meaning of the word Action, as Mr. Chubb and many others use if, is utterly unintelligible and inconsistent, is manifest, because it belongs to their notion of an Action, that it is something wherein is no passion or passiveness ; that is (according to their sense of passiveness) it is under the power, influence, or Action of no cause. And this implies that Action has no cause, and is no effect ; for to be an effect im plies passiveness, or the being subject to the power and Action of its cause. And yet they hold that the mind's Action is fhe effect of its own determination, yea, fhe mind's free and voluntary determination ; which is the same with free choice. So that Action is the effect of something preceding, even a preceding act of choice : and consequently, in this effect the mind is passive, subject to fhe power and Action of the pre ceding cause, which is the foregoing choice, and therefore can not be active. So that here we have this contradiction, thaf Action is always the effect of foregoing choice ,• and therefore cannot be action ; because it is passive fo the power of that preceding causal choice ; and fhe mind cannot be active and he is not so necessitated to good, as not to be moraUy, or hypothetically free ; nor so free to evil as not to be subject to a necessity of consequence. He who octs or chooses amiss without constraint, compulsion, or interfering voluntary force in that act, notwithstanding his passive power, is properly a. free agent ; for in the moral quality of the act, there is properly and strictly no wiU concerned but his own. But he who acts or chooses aright, is subject to a physical, decretive neces sity as to his disposition, and a physical concourse of divine energy in the natu ral act of the will. He is indeed morally free, in as much as his volition might have been of a different, yea, of an opposite moral quality, if the state of his mind had been difierent. Hence itis evident, that in a goodwill, choir:e, or act, man is an agent in a less proper or secondary sense ; but in a bad wiU, choice, or act, man is an agent, a morof agent, a. free agent, in the most proper and strict sense. And in the production of an act morali v good two wiUs are concerned, that of the agent, and the decretive will of God ; in that of evil, only one, the agent's own virill. 11. If the Supreme Being is the only proper agent in the universe, either moral agency is no proper agency ; or else, man is not a moral agent ; and if so, he is not accountable, and has no concem in reUgion or morals. Besides, if God be the only proper agent in the universe, how come there to exist evil deeds ? God's agency is good, else w ^ have no evidence that he is a good being ; but there are in the world evU deeds proceeding from et>i2 minds, which common sense and universal consent aUow, and the nature of the thing proves, to be properly evU ogencies ; consequently man is an ogent, a mord agent, properly so called. 12. If there be no proper agent in the universe but the Supreme Being, there is no evil in the nature of bad vohtions, but on y in their effects- Sin, on that sup position, is not bad in its own nature, but only injurious in its effects on the sin ner. Sin is not to be hated, it seems, on its own account, as odious, but only shunned as dangerous. But as this must arise, accordmg to the system of its abettors, from a sovereign appointment, it follows, that millions of beings are by this very appointment doomed to the greatest sufferings in the universe, for that in which they had no proper agenci/ — no possible alternative ! Where is equity, or benevolence? 13. The only clue out of this labyrinth, and out of many others formed by writers on human agency, is, we are fully persuaded, a right view of passive power, m its nature, origin, and tendency, in conjunction with a morally or hypotheticaUy Tree cliotee, — ^W. Sect. ii. Of the Essence of Virtue and Vice. 199 passive in fhe same thing, at the same time. Again they say, necessify is utterly inconsistent with Action, and a necessary Action is a contradiction ; and so their notion of Action im plies contingence, and excludes all necessity. And therefore, their notion of Action implies, thaf it has no necessary de pendence on, or connection with, any thing foregoing; for such a dependence or connection excludes contingence, and implies necessity. And yet their notion of Action implies necessity, and supposes that it is necessary, and cannot be contingent. For fhey suppose, that whatever is properly call ed Action, must be determined by the will and free choice ; and this is as niuch as to say, thaf it must be necessary, being dependent upon, and determined by something foregoing ; namely, a foregoing act of choice. Again, it belongs to thejr notion of Action, that it is the beginning of motion, or of ex ertion of power ; but yet it is implied in their notion of Action, that it is not the beginning of motion or exertion of power, but is consequent and dependent on .a preceding exertion of power, viz. the power of wUl and choice : for they say there is no proper Action but what is freely chosen, or, which is the same thing, determined by a foregoing act of free choice. But if any of them shall see cause todeny this, and say they holdno such thing as thaf every Action is chosen or determined by a fore going choice ; but thaf the very first exertion of will only, un determined by any preceding act, is properly called Action ; then I say, such a man's notion of Action implies necessity ; for what the mind is the subject of, without fhe determina tion of its own previous choice, if is the subject of necessarUy, as to any hand that free choice has in the affair ; and without any ability the mind has to prevent it, by any will or election jf its own ; because by the supposition it precludes all pre vious acts of fhe will or choice in the case, which might pre vent it. So thaf it is again, in this other way, implied in their notion of act, that it is both necessary and not necessary. Again, it belongs to their notion of an act, thaf it is no effect of a predetermining bias or preponderation, but springs im^ mediately out of indifference ; and this implies, that it cannot be from foregoing choice, which is foregoing preponderation ; if if be not habitual, but occasional, yet if it causes the act, if is truly previous, efficacious and determining. And yet, at the same time, it is essential to their notion of the act, that it is what the Agent is fhe Author of freely and voluntarily, and that is, by previous choice and design. So that, according to their notion of the act, considered with regard to its consequences, fhese following things are all essential to it; viz. That it should be necessary, and not necessary ; that it should be from a cause, and no cause ; that it should be the fruit of choice and design, and not the fruit 200 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT IV. of choice and design ; fhat it should be the beginning of mo tion or exertion, and yet consequent on previous exertion ; that it should be before it is ; that it should spring immediate ly out of indifference and equUibrium, and yet' be the effect of preponderation ; that it should be self-originated, and also have its original from something else ; thaf it is what the mind causes itself, of its own will, and can produce or prevent ac cording to its choice or pleasure, and yet what the mind has no power to prevent, precluding all previous choice in the affair. So that an act, according to their metaphysical notion of it, is something of which there is no idea ; it is nothing but a confusion of the mind, excited by words without any distinct rneaning, and is an absolute nonentity ; and that in tvvo re spects: (1.) There is nothing in the world that ever was, is, or can be, to answer the things which must belong to its descrip tion, according to what they suppose to be essential to it. And (2.)There neither is, nor ever was, nor can be, any notion or idea to answer the word, as they use and explain it. For if we should suppose any such notion, it would many ways destroy itself. But it is impossible any idea or notion should subsist in the mind, whose very nature and essence, which constitutes it, destroys it. — If some learned philosopher, who had been abroad, in giving an account of the curious observa tions he had made in his travels, should say, " He had been in Terra del Fuega, and there had seen an animal, which he calls by a certain name, that begat and brought forth itself, and yet had a sire and dam distinct from itself; that it had an appetite, aiid was hungry before it had a being ; that his master, who led him, and governed him at his pleasure, was always governed by him, and driven by him where he pleased ; thaf when he moved, he always took a step before the first step : that he went with his head first, and yet always went fail foremost ; and this, though he had neither head nor taU :" it would be no impudence at all, to tell such a traveller, though a learned man, fhat he himself had no idea of such an animal as he gave an account of, and never had, nor ever would have. As fhe forementioned notion of Action is very inconsist ent, so it is wholly diverse from fhe original meaning of the word. The more usual signification of it, in vulgar speech, seems to be some motion or exertion of power, that is voluntary, or fhat is the effect of the will ; and is used in fhe same sense as doing : and most commonly if is used to signify outward Ac tions. So thinking is often distinguished from acting ; and de siring and willing, from doing. Besides this more usual and proper signification of the word Action, there are other wavs in which the word is used. Sect.- ii. Arminiua Notion of Action, false. 201 that are less proper, which yet have place in common speech. Oftentimes it is used to signify some motion or alteration in in animate things, with relation to some object and effect. So the spring of a watch is said to act upon the chain and wheels ; the sunbeams, to act upon plants and trees ; and the fire, to act Upon wood. Sometimes the word is used to signify motions, alterations^ and exertions of power, which are seen in corporeal things, considered absolutely ; especially when these motions seem to arise from some internal cause which is hidden ; so that they have a greater resemblance of those motions of our bodies, which are the effects of natural volition, or invisible exertions of will. So the fermentation of liquor, fhe opera tions of the loadstone, and of electrical bodies, are called the action^ of these things. And sometimes, the word action is used to signify the exercise of thought, or of will and inchnation ; so meditating, loving, hating, inclining, disinclining, choosing, and refusing, may be sometimes called acting ; though more rarely (unless it be by philosophers and metaphysicians) than in any of the other senses. But fhe word is never used in vulgar speech for the self-de-' terminate exercise of the will, or an exertion of the soul that arises without any necessary connection with any thing forego ing. If a man does something voluntarily, or as the effect of his choice, then in the most proper sense, and as the word is most originally and commonly used, he is said to act ; but whe ther that choice or volition be self-determined or no, whether it be connected with a foregoing habitual bias, whether it be fhe certain effect of the strongest motive, or some intrinsic cause, never comes into consideration in the meaning of the word. /_ And if the" viora action is arbitrarily used by some men otherwise, to suit some scheme of metaphysics or morality, no argument can reasonably be founded on such an use of this term to prove any thing but their own pleasure. For divines and philosophers strenuously to urge such arguments, as though. they were sufficient to support and demonstrate a whole scheme of moral philosophy and divinity, is certainly fo erect a mighty edifice on the sand, or rather on a shadow. And though it may now perhaps, through custom, have become natural for them to use the word in this sense (if that may be called a sense or meaning which is inconsistent with itself) yet this does not prove that it is agreeable to the natural notions men have of things, or that there can be any thing in the Creation that should answer such a meaning. And though they appeal to experience, yet the truth is, fhat men are so for from experiea- cing any such thing, thaf it is impossible for them t6 have any conception of it, . voL.ii. 2'6 202 FKEKBOM OF THE WILL, PaRT IV. If it should be objected, that action and passion are doubt less words of a contrary signification ; but to suppose fhat the agent in. its action, is under fhe power and influence of some thing intrinsic,- is to confound action and passion, and make them the same thing. I answer, that Action and Passion are doubtless, as they are sometimes used, words of opposite signification ; but nof as signifying opposite existences, but only opposite relations. The words cause and effect are terms of opposite signification ; but, nevertheless, if I assert, thaf the same thing may, at the same time, in different respects and relations, be both cause and effect, this will not prove that I confound the terms. The soul may be both active and passive iri the same thing in dif ferent respects ; active with relation to one thing, and passive with relation, to another.* The word Passion, when set in opposition to Action,, or rather Activeness,' is merely a relative ;; it signifies no effect or cause, nor any proper existence ; but is the same wifh Passiveness, or a being passive^ or a being acted upon by some thing.. Which is a mere relation of a thing to some power or force exerted by some cause, produc- ing some effect in it, or upon it. And Action, when set pro perly in opposition to Passion,, or Passiveness, is no real ex istence ; it is not fhe same with AN Action, but is a mere re lation :: it is the Activeness of something on another thing, be ing the opposite relation to the other,, viz.. a relation of power, ©E force, exerted by some cause, towards another thing, which is the subject of the effect of that power. Indeed, the word Action is frequently used fo signify something not merely relative, but more absolute, and a real existence; as when we say an Action ; when the word is not used transitive ly,, but absolutely, for some motion or exercise of body or mind, without any relation to any object or effect : and as used thuSj it is nof properly the opposite of Passion ; which' ordinarily signifies nothing absolute,, but merely the relation of being acted upon. And therefore if the word Actionhe used in the like relative sense, then action and Passion are only two contrary relations. And it is no absurdity to suppose, liiat contrary relations may belong to the same thing, at the same time,, with respect to different things.. So fo suppose * This distinction is of considerable moment. The Soul is jiossjse, for in stance, in reference to that necessity of dependence which is inseparable from a cre ated nature ; and when the subject of providential energy in natural acts ; and also when the subject of that divine influence which purifies and enables the mind, and whereby holy effects are secured ; and in all these respects it is passive at the very time that itis active in its choice or preference. In other words, the mind is ne- cesmtated in some respects ; as, to exist, to think, to will, to suffer, or to enjoy ; at the same instant that it is /ree in other respects, as, from contingence, (under standing thereby an event without any cause) and from compulsion, or physittd necessity in itstacts as ntoroJ. — 'W. Sect. 11. Arminian notion of Action, false. 30S that there are acts of the soul by which a man voluntarily moves and acts upon objects, and produces effects, which yet themselves are effects of something else, and wherein the soul itself is the object of something acting upon and in fluencing that, do not at all confound Action and Passion. The words may nevertheless be properly of opposite significa tion : there may be as true and real a difference between act ing and being caused to act, though we should suppose the soul to be both in the same vohtion, as there is between living and being quickened,, or made to live. It is no more a contra diction to suppose that Action may be the effect of some other cause besides the Agent, or Being that acts, than to suppose that life may be the effect of some other cause, besides the Be ing that lives. What has led men into this inconsistent notion of Action, when applied to volition — as though it were essential to this internal Action, that the Agent should be self determined in it, and that the wiU should be the cause of if — was probably this ; that according to the sense of mankind, and the common use of language, it is so, with respect to men's external Ac tions ; which originally, and according fo the vulgar use and most proper sense of the word, are called Actions. Men in thesQ. are self-directed, self-determined, and their wiUs are the cause of fhe motions of their bodies, and external things done ; so that unless men do them voluntarily, and of choice, and the Action be determined by their antecedent volition, it is no Action or Doing of theirs. Hence some metaphysicians have been led unwarily, but exceeding absurdly, to suppose the same concerning volition itself, that that also must be deter mined by the will ; which is to be determined by antecedent volition, as the motion of fhe body is ; nof considering fhe con tradiction it implies. But it is very evident that in the metaphysical distinction between Action and Passion (though long since become common and in general vogue) due care has not been taken to conform language f o the nature of things, or to any distinct clear ideas. As if is in innumerable other phUosophical metaphysical terms used in these disputes ; which has occasioned inexpressible diffi culty, contention, error and confusion. And thus probably it came to be thought, that necessity was inconsistent with action, as these terms are applied to volition. First, these terms Action and Necessity are changed from their original meaning, as signifying external voluntary Action and Constraint, (in which meaning they are evidently inconsistent) fo signify quite other things, viz. volition itself, and certainty oi existence. And when the change of signifi cation is made, care is not taken to make proper allowances and abatements for the difference of sense ; but still the sanje 204 FREEBOM OF THE WILL. PaRT IT. things are unwarily attributed to Action and Necessity,' in the new meaning of fhe words, which plainly belonged to them in their first sense; and on this ground, maxims are established withouf any real foundation, as though they were the most cer tain truths, and the most evident dictates of reason. But however streniiously it is maintained, that what is necessary cannot be properly called Action, and that a ne cessary Action is a contradiction, yet it is probable there are few Arminian divines, who, thoroughly tried, would sta,nd to these principles. They will allow, that God is, in the highest sense, an active Being, and the highest Fountain of Life and Action ; and they would not probably deny, that what are called God's acts of righteousness, holiness and faithfulness, are truly and properly God's acts, and God is really a holy Agent in them; and yet, I trust, they will not deny, that God necessarily acts justly arid faithfully, and that it is impossible for him to act un righteously and unholily. SECT. HI. The Reasons why some think it contrary to common Sense to suppose those Things which are necessary, to be icorthy of either Praise or Blame. Ttis abundantly affirmed and urged by Arminian writers, that it is contrary lo common sense, and the natural notions and apprehensions of mankind, to suppose otherwise than that ne cessity (making no distinction between natural and moral ne cessity) is inconsistent with Virtue and Vice, Praise and Blame, Reward and Punishment. And their arguments from hence have been greatly triumphed in ; and have been not a little perplexing to many who have been friendly to the truth, as clearly revealed in the holy Scriptures: it has seemed to them indeed difficult to reconcile Calvinistic doctrines with the no tions men commonly have of justice and equity. The true reasons of it seem to be the following : I. It is indeed a very plain dictate of common Sense, that natural necessity is wholly inconsistent with just Praise or Blame. If men do things which in themselves are very good, fit to be brought to pass, and attended with very happy effects, properly against their wUls ; or do them from a necessity that is without their wills, or with which their wiUs have no concern or connection ; then it is a plain dictate of common sense, thaf such doings are none of their virtue, nor have they, any moral good in them ; and that the persons are not worthy to be rewarded or praised ; or at all esteemed, honoured or I.oved on that acrount. And on the other hand, that if, froni Sect. hi. Calvinism not against common Sense. 205 Uke necessity, they do those things which in themselves are very unhappy and pernicious, and do them because they cannot help if ; the necessity is such, fhat it is all one whether they wUl them or no ; and the reason why they are done is from necessity only, and not from their wills : it is a very plain dictate of common Sense that they are uot at all to blame ; there is no vice, fault or moral evil at all in the effect done ; nor are they who are thus necessitated in any wise worthy to be punished, hated, or in the least disrespected on that ac- .count. In like manner, if things in themselves good and desirable are absolutely impossible, with a natural impossibUity, the universal reason of mankind teaches, that this wholly and per fectly excuses persons in their not doing them. And it is also a plain dictate of common Sense, that if doing things in themselves good, or avoiding things in them selves evil, is not absolutely impossible, with such a natural impossibility, but very rfi^cMZi, with a natural difficulty; that is, a difficulty prior to, and not at all consisting in will and inclination itself, and which would remain the same let the in clination be what it will ; then a person's neglect or omission is excused in some measure, though not wholly ; his sin is less aggravated, than if the thing to be done were easy. And if instead of difficulty and hinderance, there be a contrary natural propensity in the state of things to the thing to be done or effect to be brought to pass, abstracted from any consideration of the inclination of the heart ; though the propensity be not so great as to amount to a natural necessity, yet being some approach to it, so that the doing of the good thing be very much from this natural tendency in the state of things, and but little from a good inclination ; then it is a dictate of com mon Sense, that there is so much the less virtue in what is done ; and so it is less praiseworthy and rewardable. The reason is easy, viz. because such a natural propensity or ten dency is an approach to natural necessity ; and the greater the propensity, stiU so much the nearer is the approach to necessi ty. And therefore, as natural necessity takes away or shuts out all virtue, so this propensity approaches to an abolition of vir tue ; that is, it diminishes it. And oo thc other hand, natural difficulty, in the state of things, is an approach to natural im possibility. And as the latter, when it is complete and abso lute, ivholly takes away Blaine ; so such difficulty takes away some Blame, or diminishes Blame, and makes the thing done to be less worthy of punishment. II. Men, in their first use of such phrases as these, must, cannot, cannot help it, cannot avoid it, necessary, unable, im possible, unavoidable, irresistible, <^c. use them to.' signify a jt)ecessity of constraint or restraint, a natural necessity or im» 206 FREEDOM OP THE WILL. PaRT IV. possibility ; or some necessity that the will has nothing to do in : which may be, whether men will or no ; and which may be supposed to be just fhe same, let men's inclinations and desires be what they will. Such kind of terms in their original use, I suppose among all nations, are relative ; carrying in their signification (as was before observed) a reference or res pect to some contrary will, desire or endeavour, which, if is supposed, is, or may be, in the case. All men find, and be gin to find in early childhood, fhat there are innumerable things that cannot be done, which they desire to do; and innumerable things, which fhey are averse fo, that must be, they cannot avoid them, they will be, whether they choose them or no. It is to express this necessity, which men so soon and so often find, and which so greatly and early affects them in innumerable cases, that such terms and phrases are first formed; and it is to signify such a necessity, that they are first used, and that they are most constantly used in the common affairs of life ; and not fo signify any such metaphy sical, speculative and abstract notion, as that connection in the nature or course of things, which is between the subject and predicate of a proposition, and which is the foundation of fhe certain truth of that proposition ; fo signify which, they who employ themselves in philosophical enquiries into the first origin and metaj: hysical relations and dependences of things, have borrowed these terms for want of others. But we grow up from our cradles in the use of terms and phrases entirely different from this, and carrying a sense exceeding di verse from that in which thejr are commonly used in the con troversy between Arminians and Calvinists. And it being, as was said before, a dictate of the universal sense of man kind, evident to us as soon as we begin to think, thaf the necessity signified by these terms, in the sense in which we first learn them, does excuse persons, and free them from all Fault or Blame ; hence our ideas of excusableness or faultless- ness is tied to these terms and phrases by a strong habit, which is begun in childhood, as soon as we begin to speak, and grows up with us, and is strengthened by constant use and custom, the connection growing stronger and stronger. The habitual connection which is in men's minds be tween Blamelessness and those forementioned terms, must, cannot, unable, necessary, impossible, unavoidable, ^c. becomes very strong, because, as soon as ever men begin to use reason and speech, they have occasion to excuse themselves from the natural necessify signified by these terms, in numerous instances. — / cannot do it— -I could not help it. — And all man kind have constant and daily occasion to use such phrases in this sense, to excuse themselves and others, in almost all the concerns of hfe, with respect to disappointments, and things S^ECT. III. Calvinism not against common Sense. 207 that happen, which concern and affect ourselves and others, thaf are hurtful, or disagreeable to us or them, or things desi rable, that we or others fail to obtain. That our being accustomed to an union of different ideas from early chUdhood, makes the habitual connection exceed ing strong, as though such connection were owing to. nature^ is raanifest in innumerable instances. It is altogether by such an habitual connection of ideas that men judge of the bigness or distance of the objects of sight from their appear ance. Thus it is owing to such a connection early established, and growing up with a person, that he judges a mountain, which he sees at fen miles distance, to be bigger than his nose, or further off than the end of it. Having been used so long to join a considerable distance and magnitude with such an appearance, men imagine it is by a dictate of natural sense : whereas, it would be quite otherwise with one that had his eyes newly opened, who had been born blind : he would have the same visible appearance, bnt natural sense would dictate no such thing concerning the magnitude or distanee of what appeared. III. When men, after fhey had been so habituated to connect ideas of Innocency or Blamelessness with such terms, that fhe union seems fo be the effect of mere nature, come to hear the same term^ used, and learn to use them in the forementioned new and metaphysical sense, to signify quite another sort of necessity, which has no such kind of relation to a contrary supposable wUl and endeavour j fhe notion of plain and manifest Blamelessness, by this means, is, by a strong prejudice, insensibly and unwarily transferred to a case to which if by no means belongs : the change of the use of the terms to a signification which is very diverse not being takeii' notice of or adverted to. And there are several reasons why it is not.^ 1. The terms, as used by philosophers, are not very dis tinct and cigar in their meaning : few use them in a fixed de terminate sense. On the contrary, their meaning is very vague and confused, which commonly happens to the words used to signify things inteUectual and moral, and to express what Mr. Locke calls mixt modes. If men had a clear and distinct understanding of what is intended by these metaphy- fflcal terms,^ they would be able more easily to compare them with their original and common Sense ; and so would not be easily led into delusion by words of this sort. 2.^ The change of fhe signification of terms is the more insensible, because the things signified,^ though indeed *ery different^ yet do in some generals agree. In necessity, that which is vulgarly so called, there is a strong connection be tween the thing said to be necessary, and something- antece- 208 FREEnoli OF the will. Part iv. dent to if, in fhe order of nature ; so there is also a philosophi cal necessity. And though in both kinds of necessity, the connection cannot be called by that name, with relation to an opposite wUl or endeavour to which it is superior ; which is the case in vulgar necessity ; yet in both the connection is prior fo will and endeavour, and so, in some respect, superior. In both kinds of necessity, there is a foundation for some certainty of the proposition that affirms the event. — ¦¦ The terms used being the same, and the things signified agree ing in these and some other general circumstances, and the expressions as used by philosophers being not well defined, and so of obscure and loose signification ; hence persons are not aware of the great difference ; the notions of innocence or faultiness which were so strongly associated with them, and were strictly united in their minds ever since they can remem ber, remain united with them stUl, as if the union were alto gether natural and,necessary ; and they that go about to make a separation, seem to them to do great violence even to nature itself. IV. Another reason why it appears difficult to reconcUe it with reason that men should be blamed for that which is ne cessary with a moral necessity (which, as was observed before, is a species of philosophical necessity) is, that for want of due consideration, raen inwardly entertain that apprehension, that this necessity may be against men's wUls and sincere endea vours. They go away wifh thaf notion, that men may truly wUI, and wish and strive that it may be otherwise, but that in vincible necessity stands in the way. And many think thus concerning themselves : some wicked men think they wish that they were good, and that they loved God and holiness : but yet do not find that their wishes produce the effect. — The reasons why men think thus, are as follow : I. They find what may be called an indirect willingness to have a better wiU, in the manner before observed. For if is impossible and a contradiction to suppose the will to be directly and- properly against itself. And they do not consider that this indirect willingness is entirely a different thing from properly wUling what is the duty and virtue required ; and that there is no virtue in that sort of willingness which they haye. They do not consider that the volitions which a wicked man may have, that he loved God, are no acts of the will at all against the moral evil of not loving God ; but only some disagreeable consequences. But the making of the requisite distinction requires more care of reflection and thought than most men are used to. And men, through a pre judice in their own favour, are disposed to think well of their own desires and dispositions, and to accotmt them good and Bect. hi. Calvinism not agaiast common Sense. 209 virtuous, though their respect to virtue be only indirect and re mote, and that it is nothing at all virtuous that truly excites or terminates their inclinations. 3. Another thing that insensibly leads and beguiles men into a supposition that this moral necessity or impossibility is, or raay be against men's wills and true endeavours, is the deri vation of the terms often used to express it. Such words for instance, as unable, unavoidable, impossible, irresistible ; which carry a plain reference to a supposable power exerted, endea vours used, resistance made, in opposition to the necessity ; aild the persons that hear them not considering nor suspecting but that they are used in their proper sense : that sense being therefore understood, there does naturally, and as it were ne cessarily arise in their minds a supposition, that it may be s» indeed, that true desires and endeavours may take place, but that invincible necessity stands in the way and renders them vain and to no effect. V. Another thing which makes persons raore ready to suppose it to be contrary to reason, that men should be ex posed to the punishments threatened to mu for doing those things which are morally necessary, or not doing those things which are morally impossible, is, that imagination strengthens the argument, and adds greatly to fhe power and influence of the seeming reasons against if, from the greatness of that punishment. To allow that they raay be justly exposed to a small punishment, would not be so difficult. Whereas, if there were any good reason in the case, if it were truly a dictate of reason, that such necessity was inconsistent with faultiness or just punishment, the demonstration would be equally certain wifh respect to a small punishment, or any punishment at all, as a very great one : but it is not equally easy to fhe imagina tion. They fhat argue against the justice of damning raen for those things that are thus necessary, seem to make their argu ment the stronger, by setting forth the greatness of the punish ment in strong expressions : — " That a man should be cast into eternal burnings, that he should be made fo fry in hell to all eternity for those things which he. had no power to avoid, and was under a fatal, unfrustrable, invincible necessity of do>' ing, owcr fo come out of prison, seeing he can easily do it if he pleases ; though by reason of his vile temper of heart, which is fixed and rooted, it is impossible thaf it should please him ? Upon the whole, I presurae there is no person of good un derstanding who impartially considers these things, but will allow, that it is not evident, frora the dictates of common sense or natural notions, fhat moral necessity is inconsistent with praise and blame. And, therefore, if fhe Arminians would- sio FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 1 ART lf« prove any such inconsistency, it must be by some philosophical and metaphysical arguraents, and not common sense. There is a grand Ulusion in the pretended demonstration of Arwimiflrts frora coraraon sense. The main strength of aU these demonstra.tions lies in that prejudice, that arises through the insensible change of the use and meaning of such terms as liberty, able, unable, necessary, impossible, unavoidable, invinci ble, action, ^c. from their original and vulgar sense, fo a meta physical sense, entirely diverse ; and the strong connection of the ideas of blamelessness, &c. with some of these terms, by a habit contracted and established, while these ^terms were used in their first raeaning. This prejudice and delusion are the foundation of all those positions they lay down as maxims, by which most of the scriptures they alledge in this controversy are interpreted, and on which all their pompous demonstrations from scripture and reason depend. From this secret delusion and prejudice they have almost all their advantages : it is the strength of their bulwarks, and the edge of their weapons. And this is the main ground of aU the right they have to treat their neighbours in so assuraing a manner, and to insult others, perhaps as wise and good as themselves, as " weak bigots, men that dwell in fhe dark caves of superstition, perversely set, obstinately shutting their eyes against the noon-day light, ene mies to common sense, maintaining fhe first-born of absurdi ties, &c. &c." But perhaps an impartial consideration of the things which have been observed in the preceding parts of this enquiry, may enable the lovers of truth better to judge whose doctrine is indeed absurd, abstruse, self -contradictory, and in consistent with common sense, and many ways repugnant to the universal dictates of the reason of mankind. Corol. From the things which have been observed it will follow, that if is agreeable to common Sense to suppose thaf the glorified saints have not their freedora af all diminished in any respect ; and that'God himself has the highest possible free dom, according to the true and proper meaning of the term ; and that he is, in fhe highest possible respect, an agent, and ac tive in the exercise of his infinite holiness ; though he acts therein, in the highest^ degree, necessarily : and his actions of this kind are in the highest, most absolutely perfect manner vir tuous and praiseworthy ; and are sd for thaf very reason, be^ cause they are most perfectly necessary. Sect. v. Endeavours consistent ivith Calvinism. Slf SECT. V. Objections, that this Scheme of Necessity renders all Means and Endeavours for avoiding Sin, or obtaining Virtue and Ha- piness, vain, and to no Purpose ; and that it makes Men no more than mere Machines in Affairs of Morality and Reli gion, answered. Arminians say. If sin and virtue come to pass by a ne cessify consisting in a sure connection of causes and effects, an tecedents and consequents, if can never be worth while to use any Means or Endeavours to obtain the one and avoid the other ; seeing no endeavours can alter the futurity of the event, which is become necessary by a connection already esta blished. But I desire that this mafter raay be fully considered ; and that if raay be exarained with a thorough strictness, whether it wiU follow that Endeavours and Means, in order fo avoid or ob tain any future thing, raust be more in vain, on the suppo sition of such a connection of antecedents and consequents, than if the contrary be supposed. For endeavours fo be in vain, is for them not to be suc- cessfiil ; that is to say, for them not eventuaUy to be the Means of the thing aimed af, which cannot be but in one of these two ways ; either, first. That although the Means are used, yet the event aimed at does not follow ; or, secondly. If fhe event does follow, it is not because of fhe Means, or from any connection or dependence of the event on the Means, the event would have come to pass as well without the Means as with them. If either of these two things are the case, then the Means are not properly successful, and are truly in vain. The success or non-success of Means, in order to an effect, or their being in vain or not in vain, consists in those Means being connected, or not connected, with fhe effect, in such a manner as this, viz. Thaf fhe effect is with the Means, and not without them ; or, thaf the being of the effect is, on the one hand, con nected with Means, and the want of the effect, on the other hand, is connected with the want of the Means. If there be such a connection as this between Means and end, the Means are not in vain : the more there is of such a connection, the fiirther they are from being in vain ; and the less of such a con nection, the more they are in vain. Now, therefore, the question to be answered — in order to determine, whether it foUows from this doctrine of the neces sary connection between foregoing things, and consequent ones, X'OL. II. 28 218 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. ParT Vf. that means used in order to any effect are more in vain than they would be otherwise — is, whethei- it follows from if, that there is less of the forementioned connection between means and effect ; fhat is, whether on the supposUion of there being a real and true connection between antecedent things and con sequent ones, there must be less of a connection between Means and effect, than on the supposition of there being no fixed con nection between antecedent things and consequent ones : and the very stating of this question is sufficient to answer it. It must appear to every one that will open his eyes, that this question cannot be affirmed withouf the grossest absurdity and inconsistence. Means are foregoing things, and effects are fol lowing things : And if there were no connection between fore going things and following ones, there could be no connection between raeans and end ; and so all means would be wholly vain and fruitless. For it is only by virtue of some connection that they become successful : It is some connection observed, or revealed, or otherwise known, between antecedent things and foUowipg ones, that directs in the choice of means. And if there were^ no such thing as an established connection, there could be no choice as to means ; one thing would have no more tendency to an effect than another ; there would be no such thing as tendency in the case. All those things, which, are successful means of other things, do therein prove con nected antecedents of them : and therefore fo assert fhat a fixed connection between antecedents and consequents makes means vain and useless, or stands in the way fo hinder fhe connection between means and end, is just so ridiculous as to say, that a connection between antecedents and consequents stands in the way to hinder a connection between antecedents and consequents. Nor. can any supposed connection of the successiori or train of antecedents and consequents frora the very beginning of all things, fhe connection being made already sure and necessary, either by established laws of nature, or by these together with a decree of sovereign imraediate interpositions of divine power on such and such occasions, or any other way (if any other there be ;) I say, no such necessary con nection of a series of antecedents and consequents can in the least fend to hinder, but that the means we use may belong to the series ; and so may be some of those antecedents which are connected with the consequents we aira at, in the estab lished course of things. Endeavours which we use, are things that exist ; and, therefore, they belong to the general chain of events ; all the parts of which chain are supposed to be con nected : and so Endeavours are supposed to be connected with some effects, or some consequent things or other. And certainly this does not hinder but that fhe events they are Sect. v. Endeavours consistent with Calvinism. 219 connected with may be those which we aim at, and which we choose, because we judge them most likely to have a con nection with those events, from the established order and course of things which we observe, or from something in divine Revelation. Let us suppose a real and sure connection between a man having his eyes open in the clear daylight, with good or gans of sight, and seeing ; so that seeing is connected with liis opening his eyes, and not seeing with his not opening his eyes ; and also the like connection between such a raan attempting to open his eyes, and his actually doing it : the supposed established connection between these antecedents and conse quents, let the connection be never so sure and necessary, certainly does not prove that if is in vain, for a man in such circumstances to attempt to open his eyes, in order to seeing : his aiming at fhat event, and the use of the Means, being the effect of his will, does not break the connection or hinder the success. So fhat the objection we are upon does not lie against the doctrine of the necessity of events by a certainty of connec tion and consequence : On fhe contrary, it is truly forcible against the Arminian doctrine of contingence and self-deter mination, which is inconsistent with &uch a connection. If there be no connection between those events wherein virtue and vice consists, and any thing antecedent : then, there is no connection between these events and any Means or Endeavours used in order to them : and if so, then those raeans raust be in vain. The less there is of connection between foregoing things and following ones, so much the less there is between Means and end. Endeavours and success ; and in the sarae proportion are Means and Endeavours ineffectual and in vain. It wiU follow from Arminian principles, that there is no degree of connection befweeti virtue or vice, and any fore going event or thing: or, in other words, that the determina tion of the existence of virtue or vice does not in the least depend on the influence of any thing thaf comes to pass antecedently, as its cause, Means, or ground ; because, so far as it is so, it is not from self-determination : and, there fore, so far there is nothing of the nature of virtue or vice. And so it foUows, fhat virtue and vice are not at all, in any de gree, dependent upon, or connected with, any foregoing event or existence, as its cause, ground, or Means. And if so, then all foregoing Means must be totally in vain. Hence it follows,* fhat there cannot, in any consistence with the Arminian scheme, be any reasonable ground of so much as a conjecture concerning the consequence of any Means and Endeavours, in order to • escaping vice or obtain- 220 FREEDOM OP THE WILL. pAKT 1%., ing virtue, or any choice or preference of Means, as having a greater probability of success by some than others ; either from any natural connection or dependence of the end on the Means, or through any divine constitution or revealed way of God bestowing or bringing to pass fhese things, in consequence of any Means, Endeavours, Prayers or Deeds. Coiyectures, in this latter case, depend on a supposition that Gpd himself is the giver, or determining Cause of fhe events sought : but if they depend on self-determination, then God is not the determining or disposing Author of them : and if these things are not of his disposal, then no conjecture can be made from any revelation he has given, concerning any method of his disposal of them. Yea, on these principles, if will not only follow thaf men cannot have any reasonable ground of judgment or conjecture that their means and Endeavours to obtain virtue or avoid vice will be successful, but they may be sure they will not'; they may be certain that they wUl be in vain ; and that if ever the thing which they seek comes to pass, it wUl nof be at all owing. to fhe Means they use. For Means and Endeavours can have no effect af all, in order to obtain the end, but in one of these two ways: either (I.) Through a natural tendency and influ ence to prepare and dispose the mind more to virtuous acts, either by causing the disposition of the heart to be more in favour of such acts, or by bringing the mind more info the view of powerful motives and inducements : or, (2.) By put ting persons more in the way of God's bestowment of the benefit. But neither of these can be the case. Not the latter; for, as has been just now observed, if does not consist with the Arminian notion of self-determination, which they suppose essential to virtue,, that God should be the Bestower, or (which is the same thing) the deterraining, disposing Author of Virtue. Not the former ; for natural influence and ten dency suppose causality, connecti&n,.and necessity of event, ,wbich are inconsistent with Arminian liberty. A tendency of Means, by biassing the heart in favour of virtue, or by bring ing the will under fhe influence and power of motives^in its de terminations, are both inconsistent with Arminian liberty of will consisting in indiflerence, and sovereign self-determination, as has been largely demonstrated. But for fhe more full removal of this prejudice against the doctrine of necessity, which has been maintained, as though it tencied to encourage a total neglect of aU Endeavours as vain ; the following things may be considered. The question is nof. Whether men may not thus improve this doctrine : we know fhat many true and wholesome doc trines are abused : but, whether the doctrine gives any just occasion for such an improvement ; or whether, on the suppo- i3ECT. v. Endeavours consistent with Calvinism. 221 sition of the truth of the doctrine, such a use of if would not be unreasonable ? If any shall affirm, that it would not, but that the very nature of the doctrine is such as gives just occa sion for it, it must be on this supposition ; namely, that such an invariable necessity of all things already settled, raust render the interposition of all Means, Endeavours, Conclusions or Actions of ours, in order to the obtaining any future end what soever, perfectly insignificant ; because they cannot in the least alter or vary fhe course and series of things, in any event or circurastance ; all being already fixed unalterably by ne cessify: and thaf therefore it is folly for men fo use any Means for emy end ; but their wisdom to save themselves the trouble of Endeavours, and take their ease. No person can draw such an inference fi-ora this doctrine, and come to such a conclusion withouf contradicting himself, and going counter to the very principles he pretends fo act upon : for he comes to a conclusion, and takes a course in order to an end, even his ease, or saving himself from trouble ; he seeks sorae thing future, and uses Means in order to a future thing, even in his drawing up that conclusion, thaf he will seek nothing and use no Means in order fo any thing in fiiture ; he seeks his fiiture ease, and fhe benefit and comfort of indolence. If prior necessity that determines all things, makes vain all actions or conclusions of ours in order to any thing future ; then it makes vain all conclusions and conduct of ours in or der to our future ease. The measure of our ease, with the time, manner, and every circurastance of it, is already fixed by all-deferraining necessity as much as any thing else. ~TT~ he says within himself, " What future happiness or raisery I shall have, is already in effect determined by the necessary course and connection of things ; therefore I wUl save myself the trouble of labour and dihgence, which cannot add to my determined degree of happiness, or dirainish ray misery ; but wUl take my ease, and will enjoy the corafort of sloth and neg ligence." Such a man contradicts himself: he says, the mea sure of his future happiness and misery is already fixed, and he will nof try to dirainish the one nor add to the other : but yet, in his very conclusion, he contradicts this ; for he takes up this conclusion, to add to his future happiness, by the ease and comfort of his negligence ; and fo diminish his future trou ble and misery, by saving himself the trouble of using Means and taking Pains. Therefore persons cannot reasonably make this ira proveraent of the doctrine of necessity, that they will go into a voluntary neghgence of Means for their own happiness. — For the principles they must go upon, in order to this, are inconsistent with their making any improveraent at aU of the doctrine : for to make some improvement of it is to be influ- 222 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. ParT IV. enced by it, to come to some voluntary conclusion, in regard to their own eonduct, with some view or aim : but this, as has been shown, is inconsistent with the principles they pre tend to act upon. In short, fhe principles are such as can not be acted upon at aU, or in any respect, consistently. And, therefore, in every pretence of acting upon them, or mak ing any improvement at all of them, there is a self-contradic tion. As to that Objection against the doctrine, which I have endeavoured to prove, that it makes men no more than mere Slachines; I would say, that nofwithstanding this doctrine, ^--"slan is entirely, perfectly, and unspeakably different from a mere Machine, in that he has reason and understanding, with a faculty of wiU, and so is capabJe of volition and choice ; in that his will is guided by the dictates or views of his under standing ; and in that his external actions and behaviour, and in many respects also his thoughts, and the exercises of his mind, are subject to his will ; so thaf he has liberty to act according to his choice, and do what he pleases ; and by Means of these things, is capable of moral habits and moral acts, such inclinations and actions as, according to the comraon sense of mankind, are worthy of praise, esteem, love and reward ; or on the contrary, of disesteem, detestation, indignation and pu nishment. In fhese things is all the dift'erence from mere Machines, as fo liberty and agency, that would be any perfection, dignity or privUege in any respect : all fhe difference that can be desired, and all that can be conceived of; and indeed all that the pretensions of the Arminians theinselves corae to, as they are forced often fo explain theraselves ; though their explica tions overthrow and abolish the things asserted, and pretended tp be explained. For they are forced to explain a self-deter mining power of wUl by a power in the soul to determine as it chooses or wills ; which comes to no raore fhan this, that a man has a power of choosing, and in raany instances, can do as he chooses. Which is quite a different thing from that con tradiction, his having power of choosing his first act of choice in the case. Or, if their scheme make any other difference than this between Men and Machines, it is for the worse : it is so far from supposing Men to have a dignity and privUege above Machines, fh-at it makes the manner of their being determined still more unhappy. Whereas, Machines are guided by an in telligent cause, by the skilful hand of the workman or owner ; the will of Man is left to the guidance of nothing but absolute blind contingence ! Sect. vr. The charge of Stoicism, <^c. answered. 223 SECT.-VL Conceming that Objection against the Doctrine which has been maintained, that it agrees with the Stoical Doctrine of Fate, and the opinions of Mr. Hobbes. When Calvinists oppose the Arminian notion of the free dom of wiU and contingence of volition, and insist that there are no acts of the will, nor any other events whatsoever, but what are attended with sorae kind of necessity ; their opposers exclaim against them, as agreeing with the ancient Stoicks in their doctrine of Fate, and with Mr. Hobbes in his opinion of Necessity* If would not be worth whUe to take notice of so imperti nent an Objection had it not been urged by some of the chief Arminian writers. — There were raany important truths main tained by the ancient Greek and Roman phUosophers, and es peciaUy fhe Stoicks, that are never the worse for being held by them. The Stoic phUosophers, by the general agreeraent of Christian divines, and even Arminian divines, were the great est, wisest, and most virtuous of all fhe heathen phUosophers ; and, in their doctrine and practice, came the nearest fo Chris tianity of any of their sects. How frequently are the say ings of these phUosophers, in raany of the writings and ser mons, even of Arminian divines produced, not as arguments for the falseness of the doctrines which fhey delivered, but as a confirmation of some of the greatest truths of the Chris tian Religion, relating to the Unity and Perfections of the Godhead, a future state, the duty and happiness of mankind, &:c. and how the light of nature and reason, in the wisest and best of the Heathen, harmonized with, and confirms the Gospel of Jesus Christ. And it is very reraarkable, concerning Dr. Whitby, that although he alledges fhe agreement of the Stoicks with us, wherein he supposes they raaintained the like doctrine, as an arguraent against the truth of ours ; yet this very Dr. Whitby alledges the agreement of the Stoicks with the Arminians, wherein he supposes they taught the same doctrine with them, as an argument for the truth of their doctrine.* So that, when the Stoicks agree with them, it is a confirmation of their doctrine, and a confutation of ours, as shewing that our opinions are contrary to the natural sense and common * WhUby oil the Five Points, Edit. 3. p. 335,326, 337. 224 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. PaRT IV. . reason of mankind : nevertheless, when the Stoicks agree with us, it argues no such thing in our favour ; but, on fhe contrary, is a great argument against us, and shews our doctrine to be heathenish I It is observed by some Calvinistic writers, that the Armi nians symbolize with the Stoicks, in some of those doctrines wherein they are opposed by the Calvinists ; particularly in their denying an original, innate, total corruption and depravity of heart ; and in what they held of man's ability to make himself truly virtuous and conformed to God ; and in some other doctrines. It may be further observed, fh-at certainly if is no better Objection against our doctrine, that it agrees, in some respects, with the doctrine of the ancient Stoic philosophers ; than it is against theirs, wherein they differ fi-om us, that if agrees in sorae respects wifh the opinion of the very worst of fhe hea then philosophers, the followers of Epicurus, that father of atheisra and licentiousness, and with the doctrine of fhe Sadducees and Jesuits. I am not much concerned to know precisely what the ancient Stoic philosophers held concerning Fate, in order to determine what is truth ; as though it were a sure way to be in the right, to take good heed to differ from them. It seems thaf they differed among themselves ; and probably fhe doc trine of Fate, as maintained by most of them, was, in some respects, erroneous. But whatever their doctrine was, if any of thera held such a Fate, as is repugnant to any liberty, con sisting in our doing as we please, I utterly deny such a Fate. If fhey held any such Fate as is not consistent with the common and universal notions fhat mankind have of Uberty, activity, moral agency, virtue and vice ; I disclaim any such thing, and think I have demonstrated, that the scheme I maintain is no such scheme. If the Stoicks, by Fate, meant any thing of such a nature, as can be supposed to stand in the way of advantage and of benefit in use of means and endea vours, or would make if less worth while for men to desire, and seek after any thing wherein their virtue and happiness consists ; 1 hold no doctrine thaf is clogged with any such in convenience, any more than any other scheme whatsoever ; and by no means so much as the Arminian scheme of con tingence ; as has been shewn. If they held any such doc trine of universal fatality, as is inconsistent wifh any kind of liberty, that is or can be any perfection, dignity, privilege or benefit, or any thing desirable, in any respect, for any intel ligent creature, or indeed wifh any liberty thaf is possible or conceivable; I embrace no suchv doctrine. If they held any such doctrine of Fafe, as is inconsistent with the world being' in all things subject to the disposal of an intelligent, wise Sect. vii. Concerning the Necessity, ^c. 226 agent, that presides — not as the soul of the world, but — as the Sovereign Lord of the Universe, governing all things by proper wUl, choice and design, in the exercise of fhe most perfect liberty conceivable, without subjection to any con straint, or being properly under fhe power or influence of any thing before^ a,bove or without himself; I wholly renounce any such doctrine. As to Mr. Hobbes maintaining the same doctrine concern ing necessify, I confess if happens I never read Mr. Hobbes. Let his opinion be what it will, we need not reject all truth which is demonstrated by clear evidence, merely because it was once held by some bad man. This great truth, "fhat Jesus is the Son of God," was not spoUed because it was once and again proclaimed with a loud voice by the devil. If truth is so defiled, because it is spoken by the mouth, or written by the pen of sorae ill rainded, raischievous man, that it must never be received, we shall never know, when we hold any ef the most precious and evident fruths by a sure tenure. And if Mr. Hobbes has made a bad use of this truth, that is to be lamented : but the truth is nof to be thought worthy of rejec tion on that accourit. It is common for the corrupt hearts of evil men to abuse fhe best things to vile purposes. t might also take notice of its having been observed, that the Arminians agree with Mr. Hobbes* in many more things than the Calvinists. As, in what he is said to hold con cerning original sin, in denying the necessify of supernatural illumination, in denying infused grace, in denying the doc-i trine of justification by faith alone ; and other things. SECT. VII. Concerning the Necessity of the Divine Will. Some may possibly object against what has been supposed of fhe absurdity and inconsistence of a self-determining power in fhe wUl, and the impossibility of its being otherwise than that the wiU should be determined in every case by some motive, and by a motive which (as it stands in the view ofthe understanding) is of superior strength to any appearing on the other side ; that if these things are true, if will follow that riot only the will of created minds, but fhe wUl of God Him self is necessary in all its determinations. Concerning which, the Author of the Essay on the Freedom of Will in God and in the Creature, (pag. 85, 86.) says: " What strange doctrine is this, contrary fb all our ideas of the dominion of God? does *Dr. GaL, in his Answer to Dr. Whiibt, Vol, III. h J§3, %C. VOL. ii. 29 % 326 FREEDOM OP THE WILL. PaRT IV, it not destroy the glory of his liberty of choice, and fake away from the Creator and Governor and Benefactor of the world,. thaf most free and Sovereign Agent, all the glory of this sort of freedom? does it not seem to make hun a kind of mecha nical medium of fate, and iritroduce Mr. Hobbes's doctrine of fatality and Necessity into all things that God hath to do; with? Does it not seem to represent the blessed God as a Being of vast understanding, as weU as power and efficiency, but stUl to leave him withouf a will to choose among all the ob-^ jects within his view ? In short, it seems to make the blessed God a sort of Almighty Minister of Fate, under its universal and supreme influence ; as if was the professed sentiment of some of the ancients, thaf Fate was above the gods. This is declaiming rather than arguing, and an applica tion to men's imaginations and prejudices rather fhan to mere reason. I would now calmly endeavour to consider whether there be any reason in this frightful representation. But be fore I enter upon a particular consideration of fhe matter, I would observe, that it is reasonable to suppose it should be much more difficult to express or conceive things accord ing fo exact metaphysical truth, relating to the nature and manner ofthe existence of things in the Divine Understanding: and WiU, and the operation of fhese faculties (if I may so cal! thera) ofthe Divine Mind, than in the human mind; which is infinitely raore within our view, more proportionate fo the measure of our comprehension, and more commensurate to the use and import of human speech. Language is indeed very deficient, in regard of terms to express precise truth con cerning our own minds^ and their faculties and operations. Words were first formed to express external things ; and those that are applied to express things internal and spiritual, are almost all borrowed, and used in a sort of figurative sense. Whence they are, most of thein, attended with a great deal of ambiguity and unfixedness in their signification, occasioning innumerable doubts, difficulties, and confusions, in enquiries and controversies about things of this nature. But language is much less adapted fo express things existing in fhe mind of tbe incomprehensible Deity, precisely as they are. We find a great deal of difficulty in conceiving exactly of the nafure of our own souls. And notwithstanding aU the progress which has been made in past ages and the present in this kind of knowledge, whereby our metaphysics, as it relates to these things, is brought to greater perfection than once it was ; yet here is slHl work enough left for future enquiries and researches, and room for progress stiU to be made for many ages and generations. But we had need to be infinitely able metaphysicians to conceive with clearness, according to strict, proper,^ind perfect truth, concerning the nature of the Divine -Sect. vii. Concerning the Necessity, ^c. 227 Essence, and the raodes of action and operation in the powers of the Divine Mind, And it may be noted particularly, that though we are obliged to conceive of some things in God as consequent and dependent on others, and of some things pertaining to the Divine Nature and WUl as the foundation of others, and so before others in the order of nature : as, we must conceive of the knowledge and holiness of God as prior, in the order of nature, to his happiness ; the perfection of his understanding, as the foundation of his wise purposes and decrees ; the holi ness of his nature, as the cause and reason of his holy determi nations. And yet, when we speak of cause and effect, antece dent and consequent, fundamental and dependent, determining and determined; in the first Being, who.is self-existent, indepen- dent, of perfect and absolute simplicity and immutability, and the first cause of all things ; doubtless there raust be less pro priety in such representations fhan when we speak of derived dependent beings, who are compounded and liable fo perpetual mutation and succession. Having premised this, I proceed to observe concerning the forementioned Author's exclamation about the necessary De termination of God^s Will in all things, by what he sees to be fittest and best. That all fhe seeming force of such objections and excla mations must arise from an imagination, thaf there is some sort of privilege or dignity in being withouf such a moral Necessity as will make if impossible to do any other than always jchoose what is wisest and best ; as though there were some disadvantage, meanness and subjection, in such a Neces sity; a thing by which the will was confined, kept under, and held in servitude by something which, as it were, main tained a strong and invincible power and dominion over it, by bonds that held hira fast, and from which he could, by no means, deliver hiraself. Whereas, this raust be all mere imagination and delusion. It is no disadvantage or dishonour to a being, necessarily to act in the raost excellent and happy manner, from the necessary perfection of his own nature. This argues no imperfection, inferiority, or dependence, nor any want of dignity, privilege, or ascendency.* It is nof in- * " It might have been objected, with more plausibleness, that the Supreme Cause cannot be free, because he must needs do always what is beet in the whole. But this would not at all serve Spjjioja'* purpose ; for this is a neeessity, not of nature and of fate, but of fitness and wisdom ; a necessity consistent with the greatest freedora and most perfect choice. For the only foundation of this ne cessity is such an unalterable rectitude of will and perfection of wisdom, as makes it impossible ibr a wise being to act foohshly." Clark's Demonstration of the Being and Attributes of God." Edit. 6. p. 64. " Though God is a most perfect free Agent, yet he cannot but do always what is best and wisest in the whole. The reason is evident ; because perfect v.'isdom and goodness are as steady and certain principles of action, as Necessity .328 freedom of t'se wiLt. Part iv. consistent with the absolute and most perfect sovereignty of God. The sovereignty of God is his abUity and authority fo itself ; and an infinitely wise and good Being, indued with tho most perfect liber ty, can no more choose to act in contradiction to wisdom and goodness, than a necessary agent can act contrary to the Necessity by which it is acted ,- it being as great an absurdity and impossibility in choice, for Infinite Wisdom to choose to act unwisely, or Infinite Goodness to choose what is not good, as it would be in nature, for absolute Necessity to fail of producing its necessary eflect. There was, indeed, no Necessity in nature, that God should at first create such beings as he has created, or indeed any being at all ; because he is, in Himself, infinitely happy and all-suificient. There was, also, no Necessity in nature, that he should preserve and continue things in being after they were created ; because he Would be self-sufficient without their continuance, as he was before their crea tion. But it was fit, and wise, and good, that Infinite Wisdom should manifest, and Infinite Goodness communicate itself ; and therefore it was necessary, in the sense of Necessity I am now speaking of, that things should be made at such a lime, and continued so long, and indeed with various perfections in such degrees, as Infinite Wisdom and Goodness saw it wisest and best that they should." Ibid. p. 112, 113. " It is not a fault, but a perfection of our nature, to desire, will, and act, ac.^ ' cording to the last result of a fair examination. — This is so far from being a re straint or diminution of freedom, that it is the very improvement and benefit of it : it is not an abridgment, it is the end and use of our liberty ; and the further we are removed from such a determination; the nearer we are to misery and slavery. A perfect indifference in the mind, not determinable by its last judgment, of the good or evil thatis thought to attend its choice, would be so far ftom being an ad vantage and excellency of any intellectual nature, that it would be as great ari imperfection, as the want of indifTerency to act, or not to act, till determined by the will, would be an imperfection on the other side.— It is as much a perfection, that desire or the power of preferring should be determined by good, as that the power of acting should be determined by the will : and the eertainer such deter mination is, the greater the perfection. Nay, were we determined by any thing but the last result of our own minds, judging of the good or evil of any action, we were not free. This very end of our freedom being, that we might attain the good we choose ; and, therefore, every man is brought under a Necessity by his constitution, as an intelligent being, to be determined in willing by his own thought and judgment, what is best for him to do ; else he would be under the determination of sorae other than hiraself, which is want of liberty. And to deny that a man's will, in every determination, follows his own judgraent, is to say, that a man wills and acts for an end that he would not have, at the same time that he wills and acts for it. For if he prefers it in his present thoughts before any other, it is plain he then thinks better of it, and would have it before any other ; unless he can haye, and not have it ; will, and not will it, at the sanie time ; a contra diction too manifest to be admitted. — If we look upon those superior beings above us, who enjoy perfect happiness, we shall have reason to judge, that they are raore steadily determined in their choice of good than we ; and yet we have no reason to think they are less happy, or less free, than we are. And if it were fit for such poor finite creatures as we are, to pronounce what Infinite Wisdom and Goodness could do, I think we might say, that God himself cannot choose what is npt 'good. The freedom ofthe JUmighty hinders not his being determined by what is ftest.— Biit t6 give a right view of this mistaken part of liberty, let me ask. Would any one be a changeUng, because he is less determined by wise determination than a wise man ? Is it worth the name of freedom, to be at liberty to play the fool, and draw shame and misery upon a raan's self? If to break loose from the conduct of reason, and to want that restraint of examination and judgment that keeps us from doing er choosing the worse, be liberty, true liberty, mad men and fools are the only free men. Yet, I think, no body would choose to be mad, for the sake of such hberty, but he that is mad already." Locke's Hum. Und. Vol. I. Edit. 7. p. 215, 216. " This Being, having all things always necessarily in view, must always, and eternally will, according to his infinite comprehension of thihgs ; that is, must wiU all things that are wisest and best to be done. There is no getting free of this cop- Sect. vii. Necessity of divine Volition. 220 do whatever pleases him ; whereby " he doth according fo his wiU in the armies of heaven, and amongst the inhabitants of the earth, and none can stay his hand, or say unto him, what dost thou ?" — The following things belong to the sove reignty of God; viz. (1.) Supreme, Universal, and Infinite Power; whereby he is able fo do what he pleases, without controul, without any confinement of that power, without any subjection, in the least measure, to any other power ; and so without any hindrance or restraint, that it should be eitiier im possible or at all difficult for him to accomplish his WiU ; and without any dependence of his power on any other power, from whence it should be derived or of which it should stand in any need ; so far from this, that all other power is derived from him, and is absolutely dependent on him. (2.) That He has supreme authority ; absolute and most perfect right to do what he wills, without subjection to any superior authority, or any derivation of authority from any other, or limitation by any distinct independent authority, either superior, equal, or infe rior; he being the head of all dominion, and fountain of all authority ; and also without restraint by any obligation, imply ing either subjection, derivation, or dependence, or proper limi tation. (3.) That his Will is supreme, underived, and inde pendent oh' any thing without Hiraself; being in every thing determined by his own counsel, having no other rule but his own wisdom ; his wUl not being subject to, or restrained by the will of any other, and other wills being perfectly subject to his. (4.) That his Wisdom, which determines his will, is supreme, perfect, underived, self-sufficient, and independent ; so that it may be said, as in Isai. xl. 14. " With whom took He counsel 1 And who instructed Him and taught Him in the path of judg ment, and taught Him knowledge, and showed him the way of sequence. If it can will at all, it must will this way. To be capable of know ing, and not capable of willing, is not to be understood. And to be capable of willing otherwise than what is wisest and best, contradicts that knowledge which is infinite. Infinite Knowledge must direct the will without error. Here then is fhe origin of moral JTecessity ; and that is, really, of freedom — Perhaps it may be said, when the Divine Will is determined, from the consideration of the eternal aptitudes of things, it is as necessarily determined, as if it were physically im pelled, if that were possible. But it is unskilfulness to suppose this an objection. The great principle is once established, viz. That the Divine Will is determined by the eternal reason and aptitudes of things, instead of being physically impel led ; and after that, the more strong and necessary this determination is, tho raore perfect the Deity must be allowed to be : it is this that makes him an amiar ble and adorable Being, whose Will and Power are constantly, immutablv deter mined, by the consideration of what is wisest and best ; instead of a surd Being, with power, without discerning and reason. Jt is the beauty of this Jfecessity, that itis strmg as fat'e itself,- with all the advaniageof reason and goodness. — It is strange to see men contend, that the Deity is not free, because he is necessarily rational, immutably good and wise ; when a man is allowed still the perfecter being, the more fixedly and constantly his will is determined by reason and truth." — Enqni^ ry into the J^ature of the Human Saul. Edit. 3. Vol. II. p. 403, 404. §30 FREEDOM OF THE WILLi -PaRT IV. understanding ?" There is no other Divine Sovereignty but this : and this is properly absolute sovereignty ; no other is desirable ; nor would any other be honourable or happy * and indeed there is no other conceivable or possible. If is the glory and greatness of the Divine Sovereign, fhat his Will is deterrained by his own infinite, all-sufficient wisdoln in every thing ; and is in nothing at all directed either by infe rior wisdom, or by no wisdom ; whereby it would become senseless arbitrariness, determining and acting without reason, design, or end. If God's Will is steadily and surely determined in every thing by supreme wisdom, then it is in every thing neces sarily determined to that which is most wise, and certainly, it would be a disadvantage and indignity to be otherwise ; for if the Divine Will was not necessarily determined to what in every case is wisest and best, if must be subject to some degree of undesigning contingence ; and so in the same de gree liable to evil. /"To suppose the Divine WiU liable to be carried hither and thither at random, by the uncertain wind of blind contingence which is guided by no wisdom, no motive, no intelligent dictate whatsoever, (if any such thing were possible) would certainly argue a great degree of imperfec tion and meanness, infinitely unworthy' of fhe Deity. If it be a disadvantage for the Divine WiU to be attended with this moral Necessity, then the more free from it, and the more left at random, the greater dignity and advantage. And con sequently, to be perfectly free from the direction of understand ing, and universally and entirely left to senseless unmeaning contingence, to act absolutely at random, would be the supreme glory 1 If no more argues any dependence of God's WUI, that his supremely wise volition is necessary, than if argues a depen dence of his being, that his existence is necessary. If it be something too low for the Supreme Being to have his Will de termined by moral Necessity, so as necessarily, in every case, to will in fhe highest degree holily and happily ; then why is it not also something too low for him to have his existence, and the infinite perfection of his nature, and his infinite happi ness determined by Necessity ? It is no more fo God's disho nour to be necessarily wise than to be necessarily holy. And if neither of them be to his dishonour, then it is not to his dis honour necessarily fo act holily and wisely. And if it be not dishonourable to be necessarily holy and wise, in the highest possible degree, no more is it mean and dishonourable, neces: sarily to act holy and wisely in the highest possible degree ; or which is fhe same thing, to do fhat, in every case, whi6h above all other things is wisest and best. Sect. vu. Necessity of divine Volition. 33T The reason why it is not dishonom-able to be necessarily most holy is, because holiness in itself is an exceUent and ho nourable thing. For the sarae reason it is no dishonour fo be necessarily most wise, and in every case to act raost wisely, or do fhe thing which is the wisest of all : for wisdora is also in it self excellent' and honourable. The forementioned Author of the Essay on the Freedom of Will, ^c. as has been observed, represents that doctrine of the Divine Will being in every thing necessarily deterrained by su perior fitness, as making the blessed God a kind of Almighty Minister and mechanical mediura of fate : he insists,(p. 93, 94,) that this moral Necessity and impossibility is in effect the same thing with physical and natural Necessity and impossibility r and says, (p. 54, 55.) "The scheme which determines the wiU always and certainly by the understanding, and the under standing by the appearance of~ things, seems to take away the true nature of vice and virtue. For fhe sublimest of virtues, and the vilest of vices, seem rather to be raatters of fate and Necessity, flowing naturally and necessarily frora the existence, the circurastances, and present situation of persons and things ; for this existence and situation necessarily raakes such an ap pearance to the mind ; from this appearance flows a necessary perception and judgraent concerning these things ; this judg ment necessarily determines the wiU : and thus, by this chain of necessary causes, virtue and vice would lose their nature, and become natural ideas and necessary things, instead of moral and free actions." And yet this same Author allows, (p. 30, 31.) That a perfectly wise being will constantly and certainly choose what is raost fit; and says, (p. 102,103.) "I grant, and always have granted, that wheresoever there is such antecedent supe rior fitness of things, Godacts according to it,; so as never to contradict it ;' and, particularly, in all his judicial proceedings as a governor, and Distributer of rewards and punishments." Yea, he says expressly, (p. 42.) " That it is not possible for God to act otherwise, than according to this fitness and good ness in things." So that according to this Author, putting these several passages of his Essay together, there is no virtue,- nor any thing of a moral nature, in the most sublime and glorious acts and exercises of God's holiness, justice, and faithfulness ; and he never does any thing which is in itself supremely worthy, and above all other things fit and exceUent, but only as a kind of mechanical medium of fate ; and in what he does as the Judge and moral Govemor of the world, he exercises no moral excellency ; exercising no freedora in these things, because he acts by raoral Necessity, which is, in effect, the same with physical or Natural Necessity; and therefore he 232 FREEDOM ep THE WILL. PaRT IV. only acts by an Hobbistical fatality; "as a Being indeed of vast understanding, as well as power and efficiency (as he said before) but without a will to choose, being a kind of Almighty Minister of fafe, acting under its supreme influence." For he allows, that in all these things God's will is , determined constantly and certainly by a superior fitness, and that it is not possible for him to act otherwise. And if these things are so, what glory or praise belongs to God for doing holily and justly, or taking the raost fit, holy, wise and exceUent course, in any one instance ? Whereas, according to the scrip tures, and also the coraraon sense of mankind, it does not in the least derogate from the honour of any being, that through the raoral perfection of his nature, he necessarily acts with su preme wisdom and holiness ; but on fhe contrary his praise is the greater : herein consists the height of his glory. The same author, (p. 56,) supposes, that herein appears the exceUent " character of a wise and good man, that though he can choose contrary to the fitness of things, yet he does not, but suffers himself to' be directed by fitness ;" and that, in this conduct, "he imitates the blessed God." And yet he supposes it is contrariwise with the blessed God : nof that he suffers himself to be directed by fitness, when " he can choose, contrary to the fitness of things ;" but that " he cannot choose contrary to the fitness of things,''^ as he says, p. 42, " That it is riot possible for God to act otherwise fhan according fo this fitness, where there is any fitness or goodness in things." Yea, he supposes (p. 31.) That if a raan " were perfectly wise and good, he could not do otherwise than be constantly and cer tainly deterrained by the fitness of things." One thing raore I would observe, before I conclude this section ; and that is, that if it derogate nothing from the glory of God, to be necessarily determined by superior fit ness in some things, then neither does if to be thus deterriiined in all things; from any thing in the nature of such Necessity,' as at all detracting from God's freedom, independence, abso lute supremacy, or any dignity or glory of his nature, state or manner of acting; or as implying any infirmity, .restraint or subjection. And if the thing be such as well consists with God's glory, and has nothing tending at all to detract frora it ; then we need not be afraid of ascribing it fo God in too raany things, lest thereby we should detract from God's glory too much. Sect. vni. Necessity of Divine Volition, continued. 23S SECT. vm. Some further Objections against the moral Necessity of God's Volitions considered. The author last cited, as has been observed, owns that God, being perfectly wise, wUl constantly and certainly choose what appears most fit, where there is a superior fit ness and goodness in things ; and that it is not possible for him to do otherwise. So that it is, in effect, confessed thaf in those things where there is any real preferableness, it is no dis honour,, nothing in any respect unvvorthy of God, for him to act from Necessity ; notwithstanding all that can be objected from the agreement of such a Necessity with the fate of the Stoicks, and the Necessity raaintained by Mr. Hobbes. From which it will follow, that if in all the different things among which God chooses, there were evermore a superior fitness or preferableness on one side, then it would be no dishonour, or any thing unbecoming, for God's will to be necessarily deter mined in every thing. And if this be allowed, it is giving up entirely the argument from the unsuitableness of such a Ne cessity to fhe liberty, supremacy, independence, and glory of the Divine Being ; and resting the whole weight of the affair on the decision of another point wholly diverse ; viz. Whethei- it be so indeed, that in all the various possible things, objects of his choice, there is not evermore a preferableness in one thing above another. This is denied by this author ; who sup poses that, in many instances between two or more possible things which come within the view ofthe Divine Mind, there is a perfect indifference and equahty, as to fitness or tendency, to attain any good end which God can have in view, or to answer any of his designs. Now, therefore, 1 would consider whether this be evident. The arguments brought fo prove this, are of tvvo kinds. (1.) It is urged, that, in many instances, we must suppose there is absolutely no difference between various possible objects of choice, which God has in view : and (2.) that the difference be tween many things is so inconsiderable, or of such a nature, thaf it would be unreasonable to suppose it to be of any conse quence ; or fo suppose that any of God's wise designs would not be answered in one way as well as the other. . Therefore, I. The first thing fo be considered is, whether there are any instances wherein there is a perfect likeness, and absolutely no difference, between different objects of choice that are pro posed to fhe Divine Understanding ? voit. H. 30 234 freedom of the will. Part iv. And here, in fhe first place, if may be worthy to be con sidered, whether the contradiction there is in the terms of the question proposed, does not give reason to suspect, that there is an inconsistence in fhe thing supposed. If is inquired whe ther different objects of choice may not be absolutely without difference? If they are absolutely without difference, then how are they different objects of choice ? If there be abso lutely no difference, in any respect, then there is no variety or distinction : for distinction is only by some difference. And if there be no variety among proposed objects of choice, then there is no opportunity for variety of choice, or difference of determination. For that determination of a thing, which is nof different in any respect, is not a different determination, but the same. That this is no quibble may appear more fully in a ghort time. The arguments, to prove that the Most High, in some instances, chooses to do one thing rather than another, where the things themselves are perfectly without difference, are two. I. Thaf fhe various parts of infinite time and space, ab solutely considered, are perfectly alike, and do nof differ af all one from another : and that therefore, when God determined to create the world in such a part of infinite duration and space, rather than others, he determined and preferred among various objects, between which there was no preferableness, and absolutely no difference. Answ. This objection supposes an infinite length of time before fhe world was created, distinguished by successive parts, properly and truly so ; or a succession of limited and unmea- surable periods of time, following one another, in an infinitely long series : which must needs be a groundless imagination. The eternal duration which was before the world, being only the eternity of God's existence ; which is nothing else but his im mediate, perfect, and invariable possession of the whole of his unlimited life, together and at once ; Vitai interminabilis, tota, mmul et perfecta possessio. Which is so generally aUowed that I need not stand to demonstrate it.* * " If all created beings were taken away, all possibility of any mutation or succeesion, of one thing to another, would appear to be also removed. Abstract succession in eternity is scarce to be understood. What is it that succeeds ? One minute to another, perhaps, velut unda supervenit u-nddm. But when we ima gine this, we fancy that the minutes arfe things separately existing. This is the common notion ; and yet it is a manifest prejudice. Time is notfing but the ex istence of created successive beings, and eternity the necessary existence of the Deity. — Therefore, if this necessary Being hath no change or succession in his na ture, his existence must, of course, be unsuccessive. We seem to commit a dou ble oversight in this case ; first, we find succession in the necessary nature and existence of the Deity himself: which is wrong, if the reasoning above be con clusive. And then we ascribe this succession to eternity, considered abstractedly from the Eternal Being ; and suppose it, one knows not what, a thing subsisting ^ECT, VIU. Necessity of Divine Volition, continued, 235 So this objection supposes an extent of space beyond the limits of the creation, of an infinite length, breadth, and depth, truly and properly distinguished into different measurable parts, limited at certain stages, one beyond another, in an infinite se ries. Which notion of absolute and infinite space is doubtless as unreasonable as fhat now mentioned, of absolute and infinite ^Juration. It is as improper to iraagine that the immensity and omnipresence of God is distinguished by a series of miles and leagues, one beyond another, as that the infinite duration of God is distinguished by months and years, one after another. A diversity and order of distinct parts, limited by certain periods, is as conceivable, and does as naturally obtrude itself on our imagination, in one case as fhe other ; and there is equal rea son in^each case to suppose that our imagination deceives us. It is equaUy iraproper to talk of months and years of the Di vine Existence, as of square miles of Deify : and we equally deceive ourselves, when we talk of the world being differently fixed with respect fo either of these sorts of measures. I think we know not what we mean, if we say, the world raight have been differently placed from what it is, in the broad expanse of infinity ; or, that it raight have been differently fixed in the long line of eternity : and all arguments and objections, which are built on the imaginations we are apt to have of infinite ex tension or duration, are buUdings founded on shadows, or cas tles in the air. 2. The second argument, fo prove that the Most High wills one thing rather than another, without any superior fit ness or preferableness in fhe thing preferred, is God's actu- ally placing in different parts of the world, particles, or atoms of matter, that are perfectly equal and alike. The fore- mentioned author says, (p. 78, &c.) " If one would descend to the minute specific particles, of which different bodies are com posed, we should see abundant reason fo believe, fhat there are thousands of such little particles, or atoms of matter, which are perfectly equal and alike, and could give no distinct defer- by itself, and flowing, one minute after another. This is the work of pure ima gination, and contrary to the reality of things. Hence the common metaphorical expressions ; Time runs apace, let us lay hold on the present minute, and the like. .The philosophers themselves mislead us by their illustration. They compare ' eternity to the motion of a point running on for ever, and making a traceless in finite line. Here the point is supposed a thing actually subsisting, representing the present minute ; and then they ascribe motion or succession to it : that is, they ascribe inotion to a raere nonentity, to illustrate to us a successive eternity, Hiade up of finite successive pUrts. — If once we allow an all-perfect mind, which hath an eternal, immutable, and infinite comprehension of^all things, always (and allow it we must) the distinction of past and future vanishes with re spect to such a mind. — In a word, if we proceed step by step, as above, the eternity or existence of the Deity will appear to be VitK interminabilis, tota, simul el perfecta possessio ; how much soever this may have been a para. dox hitherto." Enquiry into the J^ature of the Htm Sect. vm. Necessity of divine Volition, continued. - 23'? other respects than those wherein there is a difference. If they are perfectly equal and alike in themselves, then fhey can be distinguished, or be distinct, only in those things which are called circumstances ; as place, time, rest, motion, or some other present or past circurastances or relations. For it is dif ference only that constitutes distinction. If God raakes two bodies, in themselves every way equal and alike, and agreeing perfectly in all other, circumstances and relations, but only their place ; then in this only is there any distinction or dupli city. The figure is the same, the raeasure is the sarae, the solidify and resistance are fhe same, and every thing the same, but only the place. Therefore what the WiU of God deter mines is this, that there should be the sarae figure, the same extension, the same resistance, &c. in two diflerent places. And for this determination he has sorae reason. There is sorae end, for which such a deterraination and act has a peculiar fitness, above all other acts. Here is no one thing deterrained without an end, and no one thing without a fitness for that end, superior fo any thing else. If it be the pleasure of God to cause fhe sarae resistance, and the sarae figure, to be in two different places and situations, we can no more justly argue from it, that here must be some determination or act of God's will that is wholly withouf motive or end, than we can argue, than whenever in any case it is a man's will to speak the same words or make the same sounds af two different tiraes ; there must be some deterraination or act of his will, without any motive or end. The difference of place, in the former case, proves no more than fhe difference of time does in the other. If any one should say, wifh regard to fhe former case, that there must be soraething determined without an end, viz. that of those two similar bodies, this in particular should be made in this place, and the other in the other, and should enquire, why the Creator did not make thera in a transposi tion, when both are alike, and each would equally have suited either place ? The enquiry supposes soraething fhat is not true ; namely, fhat the two bodies differ and are distinct in other respects besides their place. So thaf with this distinction in herent in them, they might, in their first creation, have been transposed, and each might have begun its existence in the place of the other. Lef us, for clearness sake, suppose, that God had, at fhe beginning, made two globes, each of an inch diameter, both perfect spheres, and perfectly solid, without pores, and per fectly alike in every respect, and placed thera near one to another, one towards the right hand, and the other towards the left, without any difference as fo tirae, motion or rest, past or present, or any circumstance, but only their place ; and the qeustion should be asked, why God in their creation placed 238 - FREEDOM OF THE WILL. ParT IV . them so ? Why thaf which is made on the right hand, was not made on the left, and vice versa ? Let it be well consider ed, whether there be any sense in such a question ; and whether the enquiry does nof suppose something false and absurd. Lef it be considered, what the Creator must have done other wise than he did, what different act of will or power he must have exerted, in order to fhe thing proposed. All that could have been done, would have been to have made two spheres, perfectly alike, in liie same places where he has made them, without any diffisrence of fhe things made, either in them selves or in any circumstance ; so that the whole effect would have been without any difference, and, therefore, just the sarae. By the supposition, the two spheres are different in no other respect but their place ; and therefore in other respects, they are fhe same. Each has the same roundness ; it is not a distinct rotundity, in any other respect but its situation. There are, also, fhe same dimensions, differing in nothing but their place. And so of their resistance, and every thing else that belongs to them. Here, if any chooses to say, " thaf there is a difference in another respect viz. that they are not Numerically the same: thaf if is thus with all the qualities thaf belong to them: that if is confessed they are in some respects the same ; that is, they are both exactly alike ; but yet numeri cally they differ. Thus the roundness of one is not the same numerical, individual roundness with fhat of the other." Let this be supposed ; then the question about fhe determination of fhe Divine Will in the affair, is, why did God will, that this individual roundness should be af the right hand, and the other individual roundness at fhe left ? why did nof he raake them in a contrary position ? Let any rational person consider, whether such questions be not words withouf a meaning ; as much as if God should see fif for some ends, to cause the same sounds fo be repeated, or made at two different times: the Sounds being perfectly the same in every other respect, but only one was a minute after the other ; and if should be asked upon it, why God caused these sounds, numericaUy different, to succeed one the other in such a manner? Why he did not make that individual sound, which was in the first minute, to be in the second ? And the individual sound of the last minute to be in fhe first : which enquiries would be even ri diculous ; as I think every person must see, in the case pro posed of two sounds, being only the same repeated, absolutely without any difference, but that one circumstance of time. If the Most High sees if will answer some good end, that the same sound be made thunder at two distinct times, and there fore wUls fhat it should be so, must it needs therefore be, that herein there is some act of God's will without any mo- Sect viii. Necessity of divine Volition, continued. 239 tive or end ? God saw fit often, at distant times, and on diffe rent occasions, to say the very same words fo Moses ; namely, those, / am Jehovah. And would if not be unreasonable to infer as a certain consequence frora this, that here must be some act or acts of the Divine WiU, in deterraining and dis posing the words exactly ahke, af different tiraes, wholly without aim or inducement ? But it would be no more unrea sonable them lo say, that there must be an act of God without any inducement, if he sees it best, and, for some reasons, determines that there shall be the same resistance, the same dimensions, and fhe same figure, in several distinct places. If in the instance of fhe two spheres, perfectly alike, it be supposed possible that God might have raade them in a contrary position ; that which is made at the right hand, being made at the left; then I ask. Whether it is not evidently equaUy possible, if God had made but one of them, and that in the place of the right hand globe, that he might have made that numericaUy different from what if is and numeri cally different from whathe did make it; though perfectly alike, and in the sarae place ; and af the same time, and in every respect, in the same circumstances and relations? Namely, Whether he might not have made it numerically the same with that which he has now made at the left hand ; and so have left that which is now created af the right hand, in a state of non-existence ? And, if so, whether if would not have been possible fo have made one in that place, perfectly like these, and yet numerically differing from both ? And let it be considered, whether, from this notion of a numerical differ ence in bodies perfectly equal and alike, which numerical dif ference is something inherent in fhe bodies themselves, and diverse from the difference of place or time, or any circum stance whatsoever ; it will not follow, that there is an infinite number of numerically different possible bodies, perfectly alike, among which God chooses, by a self-determining power, when he goes about to create bodies. Therefore lef us put the case thus : Supposing that God, in the beginning, had created but one perfectly solid sphere, in a certain place, and it should be enquired. Why God created fhat individual sphere, in that place, af fhat time ? — And why he did nof create another sphere perfectly like it, but numerically different, in the same place, af the same time ? — Or why he chose to bring into being there, that very body, ra ther than any of fhe infinite number of other bodies, perfectly like if ; either of which he could have made there as well, and would have answered his end as well ? Why he caused to exist at that place and time, that individual roundness, ra ther than any other of the infinite number of individual ro tundities just like it ? Why that individual resistance, rather 240 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. pART IV. than any other of the infinite number of possible resistances just like if ? And it riiight as reasonably be asked. Why, when God first caused if to thunder, he caused that individual sound then fo be made, and not another just like it ? Why did he make choice of this very sound, and reject all the infinite number of other possible sounds just like it, but numerically differing from it, and aU differing one from another ? I think every body must be sensible of the absurdity and nonsense of what is supposed in such enquiries. And; if we calmly attend f o the matter, we shall be convinced that all such kind of objections as I ara answering, are founded on nothing but fhe iraperfec- tion of our raanner of conceiving things, and the obscureness of language, and great want of clearness and precision in the signification of terras. If any should find fault with this reasoning, that if is going a great length into metaphysical niceties and subtilties ; I answer, the objection to which they are a reply is a meta physical subfilty, and must be treated according to the nature of it.* II. Another thing alledged is, fhat innumerable things which are determined by the Divine WiU, and chosen and done by God rather than others, differ from those that are not chosen in so inconsiderable a manner, that it would be unreasonable to suppose the difference to be of any consequence, or that there is any superior fitness or goodness, that God can have respect to in the determination. To which I answer, it is impossible for us fo determine, with any certainty or evidence, fhat because the difference is very small, and appears to us of no consideration, therefore there is absolutely no superior goodness, and no valuable end, which can be proposed by the Creator and Governor of the world, in ordering such a difference. The forementioned au thor mentions many instances. One is, there being one atom in the whole universe, more or less. But 1 think it would be unreasonable to suppose fhat God made one atom in vain, or without any end or motive. He made not one atom but what was a work of his Almighty Power, as much as fhe whole globe of the earth, and requires as much of a constant exer tion of Almighty Power to uphold it ; and was made and is upheld with understanding and design, as much as if no other had been made but thaf. And if would be as unreasonable to suppose, that he made it without any thing really aimed af in so doing, as much as to suppose, that he made the planet Jupiter without aim or design. * " For raen to have recourse to subtihties in raising difficulties, and then complain, that they should be taken off" by minutely examining these subtilitiea, i? a strange liind of procedure." Jfature of the Human SoiH, Vol, II, p. 331, Sect. viii. Necessity of divine Volition, continued. 241 It is possible that the most minute effects of the Creator's power, the smallest assignable difference between the things vvhich God has made, may be attended, in the whole series of events, and the whole compass and extent of their influ ence, with very great and important consequences. If the laws of raotion and gravitation, laid down by Sir Isaac New ton, hold universally, there is not one atom, nor the least assign able part of an atom, but what has influence every moraent throughout the whole raaterial universe, fo cause every part to be otherwise than it would be if it were not for that parti cular corporeal existence. And however the effect is insen sible for the present, yet it may, in length of tirae, become great and important. To illustrate this, let us suppose two bodies moving the same way, in straight lines, perfectly parallel one fo another ; but to be diverted from this parallel course, and drawn one from another, as much as might be by the attraction of an atom, at the distance of one of the furthest of the fixed stars from the earth ; these bodies being turned out of the lines of their parallel raotion, will, by degrees, get further and further distant, one from fhe other ; and though the distance may be imperceptible for a long time, yet af length it may become very great. So the revolution of a planet round the sun being re tarded or accelerated, and fhe orbit of its revolution made greater or less, and more or less elliptical, and so its periodical time longer or shorter, no more than may be by the influence ofthe least atom, might, in length of time, perform a whole re volution sooner or later fhan otherwise it would have done ; Which might raake a vast alteration with regard to millions of important events. So the influence of fhe least particle may, for ought we know, have such effect on something in the con stitution of some human body, as to cause another thought f o arise in the mind at a certain tirae, than otherwise would have been ; which, in length of time, (yea, and that not very great might occasion a vast alteration through the whole world of mankind. And so innumerable other ways might be mention ed, wherein the least assignable alteration may possibly be at tended with great consequences.* Another argument, which the fore-mentioned author brings against a necessary determination of the Divine Will by a superior fitness, is, that such doctrine derogates from the free- 7iess of God's grace and goodness, in choosing the objects of his favour and bounty, and from the obligation upon men to thankfulness ior special benefits, (p. 89, &c.) In answer to this objection, I would observe, * On this subject see Doddridoe's Works, Vol. iv. p. 391, and the note there by the Editor. vox,. It 3-1 242 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. pART rV, 1. That it derogates no more from the goodness of God, to suppose the exercise of fhe benevolence of his nature fo be determined by wisdom, than fo suppose if determined by chance, and thaf his favours are bestowed altogether af ran dom, his will being determined by nothing but perfect acci dent, without any end or design vvhatsoever ; which must be fhe case, as has been demonstrated, if Volition be not de termined by a prevailing motive. That which is owing to perfect contingence, wherein neither previous inducement, nor antecedent choice has any hand, is not owing more to good ness or benevolence, than that which is owing fo fhe influence of a wise end. 2. It is acknowledged, that if the motive fhat determines the wiU of God in fhe choice of the objects of his favours, be any moral quality in fhe object, recommending that object to his benevolence above others, his choosing that object is not so great a manifestation ofthe freeness and sovereignty of his grace, as if it were otherwise. But there is no necessify for supposing this, in order fo our supposing that he has some wise end in view, in determining to bestow his favours on one per son rather than another. We are fo distinguish between the inerit of the object of God's favour, or a moral qualification of the object attracting that favour and recommending lo it, and the natural fitness of such a determination of the act of God's goodness, to answer some wise design of his own, some end in the view of God's omniscience. — If is God's own act, that is the proper and immediate object of his Volition. 3. I suppose thaf none will deny, but that, in some in stances, God acts from wise design in determining the parti cular subjects of his favours : none will say, I presume, fhat when God distinguishes by his bounty particular societies or persons, He never, in any instance, exercises any wisdom in so doing, aiming at some happy consequence. And, if if be not denied to be so in some instances, then I would enquire, whether, in these instances, God's goodness is less manifested, than in those wherein God has no aira or end at all ? And whether the subjects have less cause of thankfulness ? And if so, who shall be thankful for the bestowraent of distinguish ing mercy, with that enhancing circumstance of the distinction being made without an end 1 How shall it be known when God is influenced by some wise aim, and when not ? It is very manifest, with respect fo fhe apostle Paul, that God had wise ends in choosing him fo be a christian and an apostle, who had been a persecutor, &c. The apostle himself mentions one end. (1 Tim. i. 15, 16.) " Christ Jesus came into the world fo save sinners, of whom I am chief Howbeit, for this cause I obtained mercy, that in me first, Jesus Christ might shew forth all long- suffering, for a pattern to them who should hereafter believe on JsECT. viti. Necessity of divine Volition, continued. 243 him to life everlasting." But yet the apostle never looked on if as a diminution of the freedora and riches of divine grace in his election, which he so often and so greatly raagnifies.. This brings rae to observe, 4. Our supposing such a moral necessity in the acts of God's will, as has been spoken of, is so far from necessarily derogating fi-om the riches of God's grace to such as are the chosen objects of his favour, that, in many instances, this moral necessity may arise from goodness, and from the great degree of it, God raay choose this object rather than another, as having a superior fitness to answer fhe ends, designs and inclinations of his goodness ; being raore sinful, and so more miserable and necessitous than others ; the inclinations of infi nite mercy and benevolence may be more gratified, and fhe gracious design of God in sending his Son into the world may be more abundantly answered, in fhe exercises of mercy to wards such an object, rather than another. One thing raore I would observe, before I finish what I have to say on fhe head of fhe Necessity of the acts of God's will ; and that is, that something much more like a servile subjection of the Divine Being to fatal Necessity will follow from Arminian principles, than from the doctrines which they oppose. For they (at least most of them) suppose, with re spect to all events that happen in fhe moral world, depending on fhe Volitions of moral agents, which are fhe most impor tant events of the universe, to which all others are subordi nate : I say, they suppose, with respect to these, that God has a certain foreknowledge of them, antecedent, to any purposes or decrees of his about them. And if so, they have a fixed certain futurity, prior to any designs or volitions of his, and independent on them, and to which his volitions must be subject, as he would wisely accommodate his affairs to this fixed futurity of the state of things in the moral world. So that here, instead of a moral necessity of God's Will, arising from, or consisting in, the infinite perfection and blessedness of the Divine Being, we have a fixed unalterable slate of things, properly distinct from the perfect nature of the Divine Mind, and the state of the Divine Will and Design, and en tirely independent on these things, and which they have no hand in, because they are prior to thera ; and to which God's Will is truly subject, being obliged to conforra or accommo date himself to it, in all his purposes and decrees, and in every thing he does in his disposals and government of the world : fhe moral world being fhe end of the natural ; so that all is in vain that is not accommodated to that state of the moral world, which consists in, or depends upon, the acts and state of the wiUs of moral agents, which had a fixed futurifion from eternity. Such a subjection to necessity as this, would truly '244 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. pART 1\, argue an inferiority and servitude, that would be unworthy of the Supreme Being ; and is much more agreeable to the no tion which many of the heathen had of fate, as above the gods, than that moral necessity of fitness and wisdom which has been spoken of; and is truly repugnant to the absolute sovereignty of God, and inconsistent with the supremacy of his will ; and really subjects the will of the Most High to the wiU of his creatures, and brings him into dependence upon SECT. IX. Coneerning that Objection against the Doctrine which has been maintained, that it makes God the Author of Sin. It is urged by Arminians, that the doctrine of the neces sity of men's volitions, or their necessary connection with an tecedent events and circumstances; makes the first cause, and supreme orderer of all things, the author of sin ; in that he has so constituted the state and course of things, that sinful volitions becorae necessary, in consequence of his disposal. Dr. Whitby, in his Discourse on the Freedora of the Will,* cites one of the ancients, as on his side, declaring that this opinion of the necessity of the will " absolves sinners, as do ing nothing of their own accord which was evil, and would cast all the blame of all the wickedness committed in fhe world upon God, and upon his providence, if that were admit ted by the asserters of this fate ; whether he himself did ne cessitate them to do fhese things, or ordered matters so that they should be constrained to do them by some other cause." And the doctor says, in another place,t " In the nafure of fhe thing, and in the opinion of philosophers, causa deficiens, in re bus necessariis, ad causam per se efficientem reducenda est. In things necessary, the deficient cause must be feduced to the efficient. And in this case the reason is evident ; because the not doing what is required, or not avoiding what is forbidden, being a defect, raust follow from the position of the necessary cause of that deficiency." — Concerning this, I would observe the following things. I. If there be any difficulty in this matter, it is nothing pe culiar to this scheme ; it is no difficulty or disadvantage wherein it is distinguished from the scheme of Arminians ; and, there fore, not reasonably objected by them. * On the Five Points, p. 3B1. t Hid. p. 486- Sect. ix. Of the Existence of Sin, ^c. Mii Dr. Whitby supposes, that if sin necessarily foUows from God withholdmg assistance, or if that assistance be not given which is absolutely necessary to the avoiding of evil ; then, in the nature of the thing, God raust be as properly the author of fhat evU, as if he were the efficient cause of it. From whence, according to what he himself says of the devUs and daraned spirits, God riiust be the proper author of their per fect unrestrained wickedness : he must be the efficient cause of the great pride ofthe devils, and of their perfect malignity against God, Christ, his saints, and all that is good, and of the insatia ble cruelty of their disposition. For he allows, that God has so forsaken them, and does so withhold his assistance from them, that they are incapacitated from doing good, and determined only fo evU.* Our doctrine, in its consequence, raakes God the author of raen's sin in this world, no raore, and in no other sense, fhan his doctrine, in its consequence, makes God the au thor of the hellish pride and malice of the devils. And doubt less the latter is as odious an effect as the forraer. Again, if it wUl follow at all that God is the author of sin, from what has been supposed of a sure and infaUible con nection between antecedents and consequents, it w'lll follow because of this, viz. that for God to be the author or orderer of those things which he knows beforehand, will infallibly be at tended wifh such a consequence, is the sarae thing, in effect, as for him to be the author of that consequence. But if this be so, this is a difficulty which equally attends the doctrine of Ar minians themselves ; at least of those of thera who allow God's certain foreknowledge of all events. For, on fhe supposition of such a foreknowledge, this is the case with respect fo every sin that is committed : God knew that if he ordered and brought to pass such and such events, such sins would infallibly follow. As for instance, God certainly foreknew, long before Judas was born, that if he ordered things so, thaf there should be such a man born, af such a time, and at such a place, and that his life should be preserved, and that he should, in divine providence, be led into acquaintance with Jesus ,• and that his heart should be so influenced by God's Spirit or Providence as to be inclined fo be a follower of Christ ; and that he should be one of those twelve, which should be chosen constantly fo attend him as his family ; and that his health should be pre served, so that he should go up to Jerusalem at the last passo ver in Christ's life ; and if should be so ordered, thaf Judas should see Christ's kind treatment of the woraan which anoint ed him at Bethany, and have that reproof from Christ which he had at that time, and see and hear other things which excited his enmity against his Master, and other circumstances should * On the Five Pointe, p. 302, 305. 246 FREEDOM OF THE WILL; PaRT IV, be ordered as they were ordered ; it would most certainly and infallibly follow, that Judas would betray his Lord, and would soon after hang himself, and die impenitent, and be sent to hell for his horrid wickedness. Therefore, this supposed difficulty ought not tobe brought as an objection against the scheme which has been maintained, as disagreeing with the Arminian scheme, seeing it is no diffi-' culty owing to such a disagreement ; but a difficulty wherein the Arminians share with us. That must be unreasonably made an objection against our differing from them, which we should nof escape or avoid at all. by agreeing with them. — And therefore I would observe, II. They who object, that this doctrine makes God fhe Author of Sin, ought distinctly fo explain what they mean by that phrase, The Author of Sin. I know fhe phrase, as it is commonly used, signifies something very Ul. If hy the Author of Sin, be meant the Sinner, the Agent, or Actor of Sin, or the Doer of a wicked thing ; so it would be a reproach and blasphemy, to suppose God to be the Author of Sin. In this sense, 1 utterly deny God to be the Author of Sin ; rejecting such an imputation on the Most High, as what is infinitely to be abhorred ; and deny any such thing fo be the consequence of what I have laid down. But if, by the Author of Sin, is meant the permitter, or not a hinderer of Sin ; and, at fhe same time, a disposer of the state of events, in such a manner, for wise, holy, and most excellent ends and. purposes, that Sin, if it be permitted or not hindered, wiU most certainly and infallibly follow : I say, if this be all thaf is meant, by being fhe Author of Sin, I do nof deny thaf God is the Author of Sin, (though I dislike and reject the phrase, as that which by use and custom is apt to carry another sense) it is no re proach for the Most High to be thus the Author of Sin. This is not f o be the Actor of Sin, but on the contrary, cf holiness. What God doth herein, is holy ; and a glorious exercise of the infinite excellency of his nature. And I do nof deny, that God being thus the Author of Sin, follows from what I have laid down ; and, I assert, thaf it equally follows from the doctrine which is maintained by raost of the Arminian di vines. That it is most certainly so, that God is in such a manner the Disposer and Orderer of Sin, is evident, if any credit is to be given fo the Scripture ; as well as because it is impossi ble, in the nature of things, to be otherwise. In such a mariner God ordered the obstinacy of Pharaoh, in his refiising to obey God's Commands fo lef the people go. (Exod. iv. 21.) " r wiU harden his heart, and he shall not let the people go." — (Chap. vii. 2 — 5.) " Aaron thy brother shall speak unto Pha raoh, that he send the children of Israel out of his land. — Sect. ix. Of the existence of Sin, df-c. 247 And I will harden Pharaoh's heart, and multiply my signs and my wonders in fhe land of Egypt. But Pharaoh shall not hearken unto you ; fhat I may lay my hand upon Egypt, by great judgments, &;c." (Chap. ix. 12.) " And the Lord hard ened the heart of Pharaoh, and he hearkened not unto them, as the Lord had spoken unto Moses." (Chap. x. 1, 2.) " And fhe Lord said unto Moses, Go in unto Pharaoh ; for I have hardened his heart, and the heart of his serv.infs, that I raight show these ray signs before hira, and that thou raayst tell it in the ears of thy son, and thy son's son, what things I have wrought in Egypt, and my signs which I have done amongst them, thaf ye may knovv that I am the Lord." (Chap. xiv. 4.) " And I will harden Pharaoh's heart, that he shall follow after theiri : and I wiU be honoured upon Pharaoh, and upon all his Host." (Ver. 8.) " And fhe Lord hardened the heart of Pha raoh King of Egypt, and he pursued after the children of Israel." And it is certain, that in such a manner God, for wise and good ends, ordered that event, Joseph being sold into Egypt, by his brethren. (Gen. xiv. 5.) " Now, therefore, be nof grieved, nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither ; for God did send me before you fo preserve life." (Ver. 7, 8.) " God did send me before you fo preserve a posterity in the earth, and fo save your lives by a great deUverance : so that now it was not you that sent me hither, but God." (Psal. cvii. 17.) " He sent a man before them, even Joseph, who was sold for a servant." It is certain that thus God ordered the Sin and Folly of Sihon King of the Amorites, in refusing to let fhe people of Israel pass by hira peaceably. (Deut. u. 30.) "But Sihon King of Heshbon would not let us pass by him ; for fhe Lord thy God hardened his spirit, and made his heart obstinate, fhat he might deliver him into thine hand." It is certain that God thus ordered fhe Sin and Folly of the Kings of Canaan, that they attempted not to make peace with Israel, but with a stupid boldness and obstinacy, set themselves violently to oppose them and their God. (Josh. xi. 20.) " For if was of the Lord, to harden their hearts that they should corae against Israel in battle, that he might destroy them utterly, and that they might have no favour ; but thaf he might destroy them, as the Lord commanded Moses." It is evident that thus God ordered the treacherous rebellion of Zedekiah against the King of Babylon. (Jer. Iii. 3.; " For through the anger of the Ldrd it came to pass in Jerusalem, and Judah, until he had cast them out frora his presence, that Zedekiah rebeUed against the King of Babylon. (So 2 Kings xxiv. 20.) And it is exceeding raanifest, that God thus order ed fhe rapine and unrighteous ravages of Nebuchadnezzar, in spoiling and ruining fhe nations round about. (Jer. xxv. 9.) " Behold, I wiU send and take all the famihes of the north, 348 FREEDOM OP THE WILL. PaRT IV. saith the Lord, and Nebuchadnezzar my servant, and wUl bring them against this land, and against all the nations round about; and will utterly destroy them, and make them an astonishment, and an hissing, and perpetual desolations." — (Chap. xhii. 10, 11.) " I vviU send and take Nebuchadnezzar the king of Babylon, my servant : and I will set his throne upon these stones thaf I have hid, and he shall spread his royal pavi lion over ihem. And when he cometh, he shall smite the land of Egypt, and deliver such as are for death to death, and such as are for captivity to captivity, and such as are for the sword to fhe sword." Thus God represents himself as sending for Nebuchadnezzar, and taking hira and his arraies, arid bringing him against the nations which were to be destroyed by him, to thaf very end, that he might utterly destroy them, and make them desolate ; and as appointing the work that he should do so particularly, that the very persons were desig nated that he should kUI with the sword ; and those that should be killed With famine and pestilence, and those that should be carried into captivity ; and that in doing all these things he should act as his servant ; by which less cannot be intended, than thaf he should serve his purposes and designs. And in Jer. xxvii. 4 — 6. God declares, how he would cause him thus to serve his designs, viz. by bringing this to pa«s in his sove reign disposals, as the great Possessor and Governor of the Universe thaf disposes all things just as pleases him. " Thus saith the Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel ; 1 have made the earth, fhe man and the beast that are upon the ground, by my great power, and my stretched out arm, and have given it unto whom it seemed meet unto me ; and now I have given all these lands into the hands of Nebuchadnezzar my sekv4NT, and the beasts of the field have I given also to serve him." — Ahd Nebuchadnezzar is spoken of as doing these things, by having his arms strengthened by God, and having God's sword put into his hands, for this end. (Ezek. xxx. 24, 25, 26.) Yea, God 'speaks of his terribly ravaging and wasting the nations, and cruelly destroying aU sorts, without distinction of sex or age, as the weapon in God's hand, and the instrument of his indignation, which God makes use of to fulfil his own purposes, and execute his own vengeance. (Jer. li. 20. &:c.) " Thou art my battle axe, and weapons of war. For with thee I will break in pieces the nations, and with thee 1 will destroy king doms, and with thee I will break in pieces the horse and his rider, and with thee I wUl break in pieces the chariot and his rider ; with thee also will I break in pieces raan and woman ; and with thee I will break in pieces old and young ; and with thee wiU I break in pieces the young raan and fhe maid, &c." ilis represented, thatthe designs oi Nebuchadnezzar and those that destroyed Jerusalem, never could have been accomplish- ^ECT. IX. Of the Existence of Sin, <^c. *249 ed, had not God determined them. (Lam. iii. 37.) " Who is he that saith, and if cometh to pass, and fhe Lord commandeth it not'?" And yet the king of Babylon thus destroying the nations, and especially the Jews, is spoken of as his great wickedness, for which God finally destroyed him. Isa. xiv. 4 — 6, 12. Hab. ii. 5 — 12, and Jer. chap. 1. and li.) It is raost raanifest that God, to serve his own designs, providentially ordered Shimei's cursing of David. (2 Sam. xvi. 10, 11.) " The Lord hath said unto him, curse David. — Let him curse, for fhe Lord hath bidden him." It is certain fhat God thus for excellent, holy, gracious ends, ordered the fact which they coraraitted, who were concerned in Christ's death ; and that therein they did but fulfil God's designs; as I trust no Christian wUl deny it was the design of God, thaf Christ should be crucified, and that for this end he carae info the world. It is very manifest by many scriptures, that the whole affair of Christ's crucifixion, with its circumstances, and the treachery of Judas that made way for if, was ordered in God's Providence, in pursu ance of his purpose ; notwithstanding the violence that is used with those plain scriptures, to obscure and pervert the sense of thera, (Acts ii. 23.) "Hira being delivered, by the deterrainate counsel and foreknowledge of God* ye have taken, and wifh wicked hands have crucified and slain." Luke xxii. 21, 22t. " But behold the hand of him thaf befrayeth me, is with me on the table : and truly fhe Son of Man goeth, as it was determined." (Acts iv. 27, 28.) " For of a truth, against the holy child Jesus, whom thou hast anointed, both Herod, and Pontius Pilate, with the Gentiles, and the people of Israel were gathered together, for to do whatsoever thy hand and thy counsel determined before to be done," (Acts iii. 17, 18.) "And now, brethren, 1 wot fhat through ignorance ye did if, as did also your rulers; but these things, which Ood before had shewed by the mouth of all his prophets, fhat Christ should suffer he had so fulfiUed." So that what these murderers of Christ did, is spoken of as what God brought to pass or ordered, and that by which he fulfiUed his own word. * " Groti-as, as well as Beza, observes, iwgo-yvurii must here signify decree ; and Eisner has shewn that it has that signification in approved Greek writers. And it is certain snJorot signifies one given up into the hands of an enemy :" Dodd in Loc. ¦f" As this passage is not Uable to the ambiguities which some have apprehend ed in .Sets ii. 23. and iv. 28, (which yet seem on the whole to be parallel to it, in their most natural construction) I look upon it as an evident proof, that these things are, in the language of scripture, said to be determined or decreed (or exactly bounded and marked out by God, as the word «g'f« most naturally signifies) wHch he sees in fact will happen, io consequence of ms volitions, without any necessita ting agency ; as well as those events of which he is properly the author." Dowk in Loc. VOL. n. 33 •450 S^EEEOM OF THE WILL. . PaRT IV, Jn Rev. xvii. 17. " The agreeing of fhe kings of fhe earth |o give their kingdom to the beast ;" though it was a very wjcked thing in them, is spoken of as " fulfilling God's wiU," and what "God had put into their hearts to do." If is mani fest, that God sometimes permits sin fo be committed, and at the same time orders things so, that if he permits the fact, it will come to pass, because on sorae accounts he sees it needful and of importance fhat it should come to pass. (Matt, xviii. 7.) " if must needs be that offences come ; buf vyoe to that man by whom the offence cometh. (With 1 Cor. xi, ip.) " For there must also be heresies among you, thaf fhey which are ap proved may be raade raanifest araong you." Thus it is certain and demonstrable, fron} the holy Scripr fures, as well as the nature of things, and the principles of Arminians, tha;t God perpiifs sin ; and af fhe same time so orders things in his P.rovidpnce,"that it certainly and infallibly wiU come to pass, in consequence ofhis permission. 1 proceed to observe in the next place, III. Thaf there is a great difference between God being concerned thus, by his permission, in an event and act, which jn the inherent subject and agent of it, is sin, (though the event wi|l certainly follow on his permission) and his being concerned in it hy producing if and exerting the act of sin ; or between his being the orderer of its certain existence by not hindering it, under certain circumstances, and his being the proper actor or author of it, by a positive agenpy or efficiency, And this, notwithstanding what Dr. Whitbv offers ?ibout a say, ing of philosophers, that causa deficiens, in rebus necessariis, ad eausam per ^e efficientem reducenda est. As there is a vast dif ference between the sun being the caiise of the lightsomeness and vvarrath of the atmosphere, and the brightness of gold and diamonds, by its presence apd positive influence ; and its ber ing the occasion of darkness and frost, in the night, by its mo tion whereby it descends below fhe horizon. The motion of the sun is the occasion of the latter kind of events ; but it is nof tbe proper cause, efficient or producer of them ; though they are necessqirily consequent on that raotion, under such cir-r cumstances : no more is any action of the Divine Being the Cause of the evil of men's wills. If the sun were the proper cause oi cold and darkness, it would be the fountain of these things, as it is the fountain of light and heat : and then some-< thing might be argued from the nature of cold and darkness, to a likeness of nature in the sun ; and if might be justly in ferred, thaf fhe sun itself is dark and cold, and that his beams are black and frosty. But from its being the cause no other'; wise than by its dep?irture, no such thing c^n be inferred, but the contrary ; it may justly be argued, thaf the sun is a bright gpd het body, if cold and darkness are found to be the conscs SEct. IX. Of the Existence of ^in, ngs to every hypothesis — ^thst though God is thei taithor of siir, VOL. H. 33 2p8 FREEDOM OF *HE WILL. PART TV. SECT. X, Conceming Sin's first Entrance into the World. The things which have already been offered, may serve to obviate or clear many of the objections which might be in some sense, yethe is not the agent, therefore the phrase should be disliked and rejected, that though God wills the event of sin, yet he wills it not as an evil, but for excellent ends — that the events of moral evils are disposed by toisdom— ^that God may be the orderer and disposer of moral evil, wliich in the agent is infinitely evil, bnt in the orderer of it no evU at all— that in order to a thing being morally evil, it must be unfit and -unmitable, or of a bad tendency, or frora an evil disposition'; but that in willing the event of sin neither can be attributed to God — that if a wise and good man knew, with absolute certainty, that it would be best, all things consi dered, there should be moral evil, he might choose that it should be so — that the reason why he might not order it, if he wer« able, would not be because he might not desire, but only the ordering of that matter does not belong to hira — and that in the language of Turkbull, " there is no evU in the universe, — no absolute evil ; sins are evils only in a partial -view, but with respect to the whole systera they are not evil or mischievous, \mt. goods, &c." to say these things and more of a similar cast, is not calculated to satisfy a mind that wants the best evidence which tlie nature of the case will admit ; and we strongly suspect, from his manner of writ ing, that oor author's own mind was not satisfied with the solution which he has attempted. In former notes we have had occasion only to explain principles adopted, or to point out others either more evident or raore radical, on which those of the author were founded, or with which they stood inseparaUy connected. But at the close of the present section we feel ourselves obliged to attempt, at least, the ree- tifijiation of ms principles ; or, perhaps more properly, to point out other principles vhich we conceive are at-tended with no auch embarrassment, are exposed to no sel&contradiction, and which represent the great Supremo in a much more amia ble light, "rtie task is indeed a-rduous; but fet it not be thought impossible, nor let the imperfection of language be confounded with the inadeqiiacy of principles. And while we solicit the candour of the reader — wherehy he will be prepared to makesuchallowanceB as the nature of the subject requires, be prevented firom drawing hasty conclusions of the impracticability of bringing the subject of enquiry to a eatisfactoiy issue, or of presumption in atterapting it — we no less demand a Strictness of examination. The real enquirer after truth, the christian divine, and the moral philosopher, should be solicitous, not to have the " last word " in con troversy, but to make all possible advances in ascertaining th&.genuine grounds of acknowledged truths, in discovering radical principles, and in ascertaining theit just bearings and tendencies; 1. The true point of enquiry is — not whether they he moral evil, or whether God be just ? but — how the actual existence of sin, or raoral evil, in Uie universe, is to be reconoiled with the moral perfections and character of God ? Thereiof e,the thing wanted is a middle term, or argumentative medium, whra-eby it may-be shewn, that this proposition is tme, -viz. There is no waJ inconsistence between the existence ef sin and the moral perfections of God. 2. 'We raay therefore consider the following propositions as first principles : AXIOMS. I, TTieredbes exist nt the universe moraPevil. 11. God is infinitely free from injustice, nnholincss, and all imperfections,-.- H4nce, COROLLAEY. There is no reat inconsistence between the existence of moral evil and the mo ral perfections of God. 3.^ Now the quSstion retUms. What is the best evidence that there ia no such iirS^Jffistency ? TfttJse'wbo are satisfied with these pldin propositions, the axioms Sect. x. Conceming Sin''s first Entrcuict. tip9 raised concerning sin's first coming into the world ; as though it would foUow from the doctrine maintained, that God must and corollary, may have the evidence of faith, that there is no inconsistence be tween the subject and predicate ofthe laat proposition. They may know so rauch of God as to be assured that the existence of sin in the world is no impeachment «f the moral character of the Most High. For such evidence it behoves us to be thankful. MilUons are now in heaven, who enjoyed no other evidence while on earth than that of faith. But this is no sufficient reason why those who have op> portunity should make no fiirther enquiries into the subject. Some, indeed, sup pose that no rational emdence is in the present state attainable by man. But why any should so conclude it is difficult to say, except it be, that they wish to raake their own minds the standard of all others, or their own attainments the ne plus \Mra of moral philosophy. Such persons are not Ukely to acknowledge or perceive the real evidence on supposition that it is laid before them, as their minds wiU be strongly prejudiced against aU reasoning on the subject. 4. One tiling however is incontrovertible, as necessarily connected with the axioms, that the existence of mural evil, and the spotless and infinitely excellent moral character of God are perfectly consistent ; and therefore there must be some- inhere 'good evidence ofit. And anollier thing is equally plain, that the brighter the evidence we have of the truth ef the proposition wmch asserts the consistency of the two axioms, the more will be our acquaintance with God's real character, and the real nature of sin, which all must aUow to be advantageous. To which we may add ; tlmt increased evidence of such a proposition is far fiom being injurious, may be further inferted frora this coruodcK'tion, thai the higher any beings arise in honness eind happiness, the more dear will be that evidence to their view. 5. The terms of the question are so plain, and so generally understood, that it is scarcely necessary to notice them ; we may however briefly observe, that moral evil is what stands in direct opposition to the moral character of God ; and that this latter "inclades unicersal rectitude or holing and ferfect benevolenee. Therefore, roSTDLATE. Whatever is perfectly consistent with universal rectitude^ and perfect bene volence, is consistent with the moral perfectiens of God. The reader n-ill ob serve that what is asserted of rectitude and benevcHence is di£ferent; the one b said to be unioersal and the other perfea only. Every attribute of Jehovah is in it- self bofli perfect and universal ; but not relatively so. Thus his rectitude is ioth perfect in itself, and universal with respect to its object; but his benevolence however infinitely perfec^ is restricted as to its objects, both in extent and in de gree. And this restriction is necessary two ways : 6. First, the objects of benevolence, at least in this world, compose a sys tem ; and every system, whether notaral or raoral, impUes a suioriitnation and comporotire superiorits ef parts 5 therefore the very idea of a systematic whole im pUes a restnetion of benevolence as to extent and degree. 7. SeconiBj, the exercise of benevolence is an exercise of wifl ; and the ex erdse of wiU unpUes ifitiersiti/ of objects, and a preference of some rather than others to occupy the more excellent parts of the whole system ; so that perfect ¦universaUty or a strict equaUty of benevolence, without a ^tinguishing prefer^ ence is necessarily excluded by the very nature of benevolence m exercise. 8 Divine benevolenee, therefore, admits of gradations, from the smaUest de cree conceivable to the utmost extent of the system ; while rectitude admits of So such degree. Were we to attempt an iUustration of so abstract a subject by mental im^es, we might say, that reclitode in its exercise towards the creatures, mav be compared to a plain surface as widely extended as the umverse, of infi- nitelv perfect poKsh, ind withont a flaw m any part. Hence, m its exercise, it is ¦wimersd as its objects ; and can no more admit of degrees, than a perfect poUsh ¦caa admit of flaws. On the contrary, benevolence may be compared to a cone, in «n inverted form, the vertex of which is in contact with a pomt of that plane, and ¦which, from the least possible degree, is capable of nsmg^ severe^ nleasure. in its exercise towards the universe, to such a height, as fliat the base ei it mg^ he, or may not be, of equal extent with the plane below. ^ . 9. S^om iust views of benevolence we may infer, that ite Menase is purdy ftee,«nd aadwewedby the creature ; being the feat of wiD, choice, aad sove- *260 PRfcEfidM Of THE WILL. ^\H1 IV. be the author of the first sin, through his so disposing things, that it should necessarily follow from his permission, that the reign pleasure. The absence of it, with respect to creatures, impUes no flaw in perfect rectitude. Every degree of benevolence, from the least to the greatest, must be altogether optional. Perfect rectitude, with respect to created beings and each individual creature, may subsist, without any more benevolence than what is necessarily included in mere existence. 10. ThisTieing the case, the state of the universe in reference to perfect Rectitude, and irrespective of benevolence, may be further compared to a balance in perfect equihbrium. The least weight of benevolence makes it preponderate, proportionally, in favour of virtue and happiness ;, but without which weight nei ther coiHd take place. 11. But, according to what has been said in a former note, eveiy created be ing is the subject of possiwe power; which, with respect to its influence on the creature, is, in some respect, the opposite of benevolence. In some, not in aU respects. Benevolenee is an exercise of will, and implies an agent ; but passive power is a qualifrjf or principle inseparable frora every creature, and from the uni verse at large. In reference to a former illustration, this mgty- b&eorapi!^ t®- another cone exactly opposite, the vertex of vihis^, from below, meets that of the other in the same plane. The,, iateHnediate point, and indeed every point in the sarae plane, may repissent the perfect rectitude of God towards every indi vidual ; the inverted cone above, divine benevolence ; the cone below, passive jjower,"with its base necessarily e^ual to the whole plane, as it respects the created universe. 12. Hence we may say that the neutral state of any being is placed in the plane ; his degree of influence from passive power, the predisposing cause of vice, is represented by a corresponding given part of the cone below ; and his degree of predisposition to virtue from divine benevolence, is j-epresented by a corresponding given part of the cone above. Or, to change the comparison, if a perfectly poised balance be made to represent perfect rectitude, then we may sup pose weights at each end in all possible proportions, from the smallest to the greatest. Passive power not being the effect of will, but of the relative nature of things, and inseparably connected with one end of the balance, it is evident, that it can be counteracted in its tendency only by the weight of benevolence, or sovereign pleasure. Therefore, whoever on earth or in heaven, rises to, and is confirmed m virtue, his attainment must be the effect of mere benevolence. And whoever on earth or in, hell, falls into, and is confirmed in vice, his deterio ration must be the effect of passive power, as the predisposing cause of vice, which nothing in the universe can counteract but sovereign, free, unmerited, be nevolence. 13. Consequently, all the good and happiness in the universe is the effect of benevolence, or sovereign pleasure, and exists above the plane of perfect recti tude ; but all the evil aud misery in the world is the efifect of passive power, in 'Union with free agency, and exists below the plane of rectifnide. The one gene rates virtue, and raises to happiness and heaven ; the pther generates vice, and sinks to misery and hell. 14. Every thing in the universe planned, decreed, and effected by Jehovah, is a structure of benevolence. All He effects is good, and only good. The evU that exists is not his work. Benevolence has decreed an endless chain of anJece- rfenJs, including the natural and moral worlds ; and the consequents, peculiar to them result therefrom with infallible certainty. But other antecedents, in tJiis world and in hell, are constantly interposed by free agents under the influence of passive power, whose consequences also foUow with equal infallible certainty. To the eye of created intelligence these counter positions, and opposite con- sequents appear blended in an inextricable manner, like the diflerent rays of light iri the same pencil, different gases in a given space, and diflTerent subtle fluids in the sarae body. But to the eye of oraniscience they appear perfectly distinct, in then proper nature, in aU thsir directions and bearings, in all their tendencies and effects. IS. Instead, therefore, of saying, '• There is uo evil in the universe," we ;ihouId say, " There is much evil in the universe ; there is much on earth, and more in hell ; but none of God's appointment. It is demonstrable, that passive Sect. x. Conceming Sin's first Entrance. 261 sinful act should be committed, &c. I need not, therefore, stand to repeat what has been said already, about such a ne- power can no more be an object of appointment, than the most direct contradic tions ; and yet it is equally demonstrable that such a principle is the, inseparable concomitant of every creature It is of prior consideration to moralagency ; for whatever is a property of a created nature as such, is of prior consideration to the agency of that creature. Consequently it is a property neither divinely appointed, nor yet a moral evil. 16. Liberty, in one sense, bears the same relation to good and evil, as recti tude does to benevolence and passive power. Liberty in itself is equally a me dium between good and evil, as rectitude is between benevolence and passive power ; and the medium is of a nature perfectly distinct from both extremes. To which we may add, that Liberty united to, or under the influence of sovereign benevolence, generates virtue ; but Liberty united to, or under the influence of passive power, generates vice. 17. From the premises it may be seen, that the existence of all evil, and es- pecieilly moral evU, in the universe, is not inconsistent with the raoral perfections of God. It is evident also that in no sense whatever, except by a total misapplica tion of terms, can God be said to be " the author of sin." Nor can it be said that God " wills the event of sin ;" but the contrary is plain, that he does not will it, cither in a decretive, a legislative, or any other sense. 18. The great source of confusion into which raany authors have plunged themselves, is, that they draw too hasty an inference in attempting to make not hindering an event to be ultiraately the same as wUling it. Upon their data, indeed, it may be true, while they regard every event alike to be the effect of divine energy, and even the worst, in order to answer a good end. And this will al ways be the case, for self-consistency requires it, until we see and acknowledge a metaphysical negative cause of moral evil, and an eternal nature of things antece dent to all will, with their infallible eflects, when not counteracted by sovereign benevolence. 19. Let us now view the subject in the Ught of terms a Utile different. Much error often arises through the defect of language ; and where there is danger of misapprehension, it may be of use to change expressions. Hereby a diflicult sub ject may be taken By different handles, or a reader raay apprehend it by one han dle, which he could not by another. Let us then substitute the word Equity instead of Rectitude, and undeserved favour instead of benevolence. POSTULATE. Whatever is perfectly consistent vvith equity is also perfectly consistent with the morai character of God. 20. Whatever is the pure effect of equity and the nature of things, or essential truth, united, cannot be inconsistent with the moral perfections of God , the ex istence of moral evil in the universe is the pure effect of these : therefore the existence of moral evil in the universe cannot be inconsistent with the moral perfections of God. 21. The onty ground of hesitation here is. How moral evil is the effect of equity and the nature of ihings .' Liberty itself is a natural good, and therefore is the fruit of divine favour ; and the mere exercise of liberty must be a-icrlbed to the same cause. But he who is hypothetically free to good, must be in like man ner free to evil For this hypothetical freedom either to good or to evil is what constitutes the morality of his acts of choice. Take away this hypothetical free dora, and you take away the essence of moral agency It is plain, then, that to possess this freedom and consequent raoral agency, is not inconsistent wilb the equity, rectitude, or moral perfections of God. Yet it is demonstrable that free dom cannot be influenced in its choice, so as to constitute it virtuous or vicious, holy or sinful, morally right or wrong, good or evil, bu! from two causes radi cally ; divine favour and passive power. If the agent be under the influence of divine favour, a happy result, in the same proportion, is secured by the same es sential truth as renders the choice of the great i am infallibly good ; which no one will say is inconsistent with the divine perfections. For though favour raises the agent oiooe' what rigid or pure equity can do, there is no inconsistence between them, any more than between paying a just debt and bestowing also a free gift ?i6'2 PllKEDOIfl OF THE WILL. I'ART IV. cessity not proving God to be the Author of Sin, in any ill sense, or in any such sense as to infringe any liberty of man, concerned in his moral agency, or capacity of blame, guilt, and punishment. in addition. But if the agent be not under the influence of undeserved favour, the only allernative is,tbat he must necessarily be under the influence of passive power. And as nothing can possibly secure a happy result but undeserved favour, or benevolent influence, a negative cause becomes an infallible ground of cer tainty of an opposite result. Again, 22. When God gii'es to creatures whiit is their due, he deals with thera in equity ; but when God gives them less grace than Is actually sufficient to secure from sin, or will in fact do so, he gives thera Iheir due. Were it otherwise, it would be impossible for any to sin. If to give them so rauch favour or benevo lent influence as would actuaUy preserve them from sin, vvere their due, it is plain that the God of equity would give them their due, and preserve them from sin accordingly. But tbe fact is widely otherwise. They are not all preserved from sin, though all might be, through the interposition of sovereign favour ; therefore it is not their due, or equity does not require it. S3. If it be said. It is owiug to their own fault ; it is very true. But bow came any creatures to he faulty f God raade angels and men upright ; and he has always dealt with every creature, however debased by sin, in equity. He has also given to every creature, capable of sinning, Uberty unconstrained. Ho of ten influences the disposition by benevolence ; and the goodness of God, by Srovidential and gracious dispensations, leadeth to repentance But never has e dealt with any unjustly, or given them less than their due Not a fallen spi rit, however deeply sunk, can verify such a charge. Assuredly, they have destroyed themselves : but in God is the only help. A principle of which God is not the author, as before explained, in union with the abuse of their liberty, satisfactorily accounts for the fact. Our evil is of ourselves ; but all our good is from God. - 24. From what has been said we may safely draw this inference, that the existence of raoral evil in the universe is not inconsistent with the moral perfec tions of God. And the proposition ivould be equally tiue had the proportion of moral evil been greater Ihail it is But some will continue to cavil, il is proba ble, because every objection is not professedly answered ; and some difficulties, or divine arcana, will always I'emain. They will still be asking, why benevolence is not more universal, and thereby raoral evil altogtther prevented ? Why the cone (to which benevolence has been compared) is not a cylinder, whose base is com mensurate vvith the plane of creatural existence, and whose top rises ud ir\fini- tum ? They might as well enquire, Why is not every atom a sun ? Why not every drop an ocean .' Why not every moment an age ? Why not evei-y worm an angel ? Why not thc solar system as large as all material systems united I Why the number of angiels and men not a thousand times greater .' And to com plete the absurdity of demanding evidence for every thing, as an objection against demonstrable truth, Why is not any given part on the surface of a cone, a fcylinder, or a globe, not iu the centre .* To all such inquiries — and if advanced as objections, impertinent enquiries — it is sufficient to reply, Infinite Wisdom has planned a universe, in which divine benevolence appears wonderfully conspicu ous; and even the evils — whether natural or inoral, which are intermixed, and which in their origin are equally remote from divine causation and from chance . — ^are overruled, to answer purposes the most benevolent and the most wonder fully sublime. COROLLARIES. 1. The only possible way of avoiding the raost ruinous consequences — mo ra! evil and misery — is to direct the will, through the instrumentality of its free dom, to a state of union to God, submission to his vrill, and an imitation of his moral perfections, according to his most raetviful appointment. 2. To creatures fallSn below the line of rectitude, and yet the subjects of hope, prayer to God for grace, undeserved favour, or benevolent influence, is an exercise the most becoming, a duty the most necessary and iraportant, and apri- vilege of the first magnitude.— VV. Sec5. X. Concerning Sin's first ^Entrance. 363 But should it nevertheless be said, that if God, when he had made man, might so order his circumstances, that from these, together with his withholding further assistance and Di vine Influence, his Sin would infallibly follow, why raight nof God as well have first made man with a fixed prevaUing princi ple of Sin in his heart ? I answer, 1. It was meet, if Sin did come into existence and appear in the world, if should arise from the imperfection which properly belongs to a creature, as such, and should appear so to do, that if might appear not fo be from God as the efficient or fountain. But this could not have been, if raan had been made at ffrst with Sin in his heart ; nor unless the abiding principle and habit of Sin were first introduced by an evil act of the creature. If Sin had not arisen from the im perfection of fhe creature, it would not have been so visible, that it did not arise from God as the positive cause and real source of it. — But if would require roora that cannot be here allowed, fully to consider all the difficulties which have been started coneerning the first entrance of Sin info the world.— And therefore, 3. I would observe, thaf objections against the doctrine that has been laid down in opposition to the Arminian notion of liberty, from fhese difficulties, are altogether impertinent ; because no additional diflSculty is incurred, by adhering to a scheme in this manner differing from theirs, and none would be removed or avoided, by agreeing with, and raaintaining theirs. Nothing that the Arminians say about the contin gence or self-deterraining power of raan's will, can serve fo explain, with less difficulty, how the first sinful volition of mankind could fake place, and man be justly charged with the blame of if. To say, the will was self-determined, or deter mined by free choice, in that sinfiil volition — which is to say, that the first sinful volition was determined by a foregoing sin ful volition — is no solution of the difficulty. It is an odd way of solving difficulties, to advance greater, in order to it. To say, two and two make nine ; or, that a chUd begat his father, solves no difficulty : no raore does it to say, the first sinful act of choice was before the first sinful act of choice, and chose and determined it, and brought it to pass. Nor is it any bet ter solution to say, the first sinful volition chose, determined, and produced itself; whieh is to say, it was before it was. Nor wiU it go any further towards helping us over fhe diffi culty to say, the first sinful volition arose accidentally, without any cause at all ; any more than it will solve that difficult question, How the world could be made out of nothing ? to say, if came into being out of nothing, without any cause ; as has been already observed. And if we should allow that the first evU volition should arise by perfect accident, without 264 FftEECOM O'F THE WILL. ParT IV. any cause ; it would reUeve no difficulty, about God laying the blame of it to raan. For how was man to blame for per fect accident which had no cause, and which, therefore, he was not the cause of, any more than if it came by some exter nal cause ? — Such kind of solutions are no better than if some person, going about to solve sorae of the strange mathemati cal paradoxes about infinitely great and small quantities — as, that some infinitely great quantities are infinitely greater fhan some other infinitely great quantities ; and also that some in finitely sraall quantities are infinitely less than others, which yet are infinitely little — should say, that raankind have been under a mistake, in supposing a greater quantity to exceed a smaUer; and thaf a hundred, multiplied by fen, makes but a single unit.* * On the subject of the origin of moral evil, our author is more concise than usual. His design, in this very short section, is merely to shew, that the difficul ties which have been started, concerning the first entrance of sin into the world, are such as cannot be discussed in «. smaU compass ; and, that the Arminian cause gains nothing by urging thera. That cause has been sufficiently examined in several parts of this Enquiry ; but the true and precise origin of moral evil, re quires further notice. It is indeed of infinitely greater importance to be ac quainted with that celestial art, and that sacred influence, whereby we may emerge from the gulf of sin to holiness and heaven, than to be accurately versed in the science of its origination. And so it is far more iraportant to see objects, and improve sight, than to be able to demonstrate the theory of vision ; to reco ver health, and to use it aright, than to have skill to ascertain the cause and the symptom of disease ; to contribute vigorously in extinguishing a fire that threatens to destroy our dwelUngs and ourselves, than to know the author of the calamity ; to participate the effects of varied seasons, than to understand, astro nomically, the precise reason of those variations. The mariner may navigate without knowing why his needle points to the north ; and the celestial bodies in the solar system were as equally regular in their motions before Sir Isaac Newton had existence, as they have been since he has ascertained those laws and propor tions according to which they raove. And yet the science of optics is not use less, the healing art is not to be despised, to discover an incendiary is desirable, and never is that philosopher, who attempts to ascertain the causes of naturtd phenomena, held up as blaraeworthy. In like manner, though millions are delivered from the influence of sin, and raised to the most exalted eminence of happiness, who never knew, or even sought to know, scientifically, the origina tion of sin ; this is no good reason that such knowledge is useless, or even un important. As we do not wish to swell these notes unnecessarily, we beg leave to refer to what we have said elsewhere on the subject, particularly in notes on the former part of this Treatise, on Dr. Doddridge's Lectures, and on a Sermon, concerning " Predestination to Life," second edition, in connection with what we now add. (See Doddr. Works, vol. iv. p. 333, &c. vol. v. p. 208, &c. JVotes.) — As the basis of our present demonstration, we begin with proposing a few axioms. AXIOMS. 1. No eflect can exist without an adequate cause. On tliis truth are founded all reasonings and all metaphysical evidence. 2. Sin is an eflect and has a cause. On this truth are founded all moral means and all religious principles. 3. The origin of raoral evil cannot be moral evil ; or, the cause of sin can not be sin itself. Except we adrait this, the sarae thing raay be and not be, at the sarae time, and in the same respect — the sarae thing may be sin and no sin — cause and no cause — or, contrary to the first axiom, a contingent event may be fhe cJiusB of itself, or may exist without an adequate cause. SjsoT. XJ. Of God's moral Character. 'iti;") SECT. XI. Of a supposed Inconsistence between these Principles and God's moral Character. The things which have been already observed, may bc sufficient to answer most of the objections, and sUence the 4. Thereis no positive cause but what is ultimately from God. If otherwise, something positive may begin to be without a positive cause ; or, something may exist without an adequate cause ; "which is the same as an effect to exist ivithout a cause, contrary to the first axiom. 5. There may be a negative metaphysical cause, where there is no decretive divine operation to effect it. Were there no negative metaphysical causes, such ideas as absence, ignorance, folly, weakness, and the like, could have no meta physical effects, contrary to universal experience. And we must renounce all ideas of congruity to suppose that such things are the mere effects of divine de cree and operation. Having premised these positions as axioms not to be disputed, we proceed to make a few observations, which, though equally true, may not be equally ob vious. 6. The origin of raoral evil cannot be one principle. For were it one, it must be either a positive or negative cause. If positive, it would be ultimately from God, but this would exclude a moral alternative, the very essence of moral agency, and consequently be incompatible with the existence of moral evil. But if a ne gative cause, it must ultimately be referred to the prime negative cause, which can be no other than passive power, as before explained ; which is nothing in dependent of positive existence ; and consequently can have no effect but in umon with positive existence. 7. It remains, then, that the origin of moral evil is a compound of two causes at least. Yet not more than two ; because, as we shall see, these are sufficient, and more would be superfluous in order to produce the efl[ect. 8i Now the question remains, Wliat are these compounded principles ? Arc they two positive causes, two negatives, or one of each ? They cannot be two positive causes ; for then they might be ultimately reduced to one, the first cause ; as before proved, gr. 4, 6. Nor can they be two negative ones ; for ultimately there is but one cause properly negative. Consequently, 9. The first entrance of^sin into the world, or the true and precise origin of moral evil, may be foimd in two causes united : the one positive and the other negative. But neither of Which is morally good or morally evil ; if the cause were morally good, the effect c)()uld not be morally bad ; and if morally evil, it would be con trary to the third\ axiom, and to common sense. These two causes are, first. Liberty, a cause nhturaUy good ; secondly, passive power, a cause naturally evil. — And these two causes are as necessary for the production of moral evil, a.^ two parents for the production ofa human being according to the laws of nature. 9. Dr. Clarke, whose brief account has been more impUcitly admitted than any other, says, that raoral evil " arises wholly frora the ABtrsE of Liberty ; which God gave to his creatures for other purposes, and which it was reasonable and fit to give them for the perfection and order of the whole creation, only they, contrary to God's intention and command, have abused what was necessary for the perfec tion of the whole, to the corruption and depravation of themselves," This extract from Dr. Clarke (in his Demonstration of the Being and Attributes of God, p. 113, 5tb edit.) has been advanced by celebrated writers, as "containing all that can be advanced with certainty" on the subject. But surely those minds must be easily satisfied who.canbe satisfied with such evidence. Dr. Clarke allows and proves, that Uberty is a perfection rather than an evil. How came it then to ;>ro- dute evil? He answers, " This arises wholly from the o5use of liberty." But what is the cause of this effect called " the abuse of Uberty ?" This in fact' is tho vot,, II. 34 266 FEEEDOM or THii WILL. PaRT IV. great exclamations of Arminians against tho Calvinists, from the supposed inconsistence of Calvinistic principles with the whole ofthe difiiculty) and yet he leaves it untouched. The free agent /oits in thc exercise of liberty ; this failure is an effect ; but there is no effect without a cause ; therefore this failure must have a cause ; and this cause (not the abuse of Uberty) must bring us to the origtn of moral evil. 10. What Dr. Clarke has lefl untouched mayyetbe ascertained. We think it has been fairly e.xcluded, by what has been already advanced, from every thing except Liberty and Passive Power. Therefore, the abuse of liberty can arise onbj trom its associate. But Aoao can this operate as a cause of the abuse of liberty ? In order to answer this question, we must recollect what liberty itself is, viz. a natural power or instrument of the mind, capable of producing moral effects. — Not a, self-determining power, which would be contrary to the first axiom ; and which our author has abundantly demonstrated to be full of contradictions, and an ut ter impossibility. It must then bc determined by motives. But motives, as before shown (m a former note) are the objects of choice in union with the state of the mind, as a compound efiect. Now the cau-ie why the real good, suppose the chief good, which is absolutely unchangeable, is not chosen, and an inferior good ap pears at the instant of choice preferable, and is in fact preferred, must arise from that part of the motive which is the state of the mind. 11. Now there aro only two states of the mind conceivable whereby liberty can be influenced ; tho one a state naturaUy evil ; the other a state moially good. Were we to say that the state was morally evil at the first entrance of sin, wo should contradict the third axiom. And were we to say that the cause was only naturally good, wo should contradict the yirst axiom. Therefore the cause of the abuse of liberty is a state naturally evil. No other cause can possibly be assigned, without involving a contradiction. But what is a state naturally evil, and without any mixture of moral evil ? It can be no other but a state under the influence of what we caU passive power. 12. Let us view the subject in another light. Perfect liberty, in reference to virtue and vice, the scale of merit and demerit, and its attendant degrees of hap piness or misery, is a medium, standing between all extremes — ^between virtue and vice, merit and deraerit, happiness and misery. If we regard divine rectitude or equity according to a former simUe, in reference to the moral system, as an universal plane, Uberty may be said to coincide with it. And being a natural per fection, or, when exerted, a good which has a positive cause, it is the effect of be nevolent energy. If the mind be under unmerited, sovereign, benevolent influ ence, its liberty attaches itself to real good ; then the agent rises on the scale of excellence, and therefore of happiness. But if the mind be under passive influ ence, or the infiuence of passive power, (a depraved nature and confirmed vicious habits being now out of the question) its liberty attaches itself to apparent good, in opposition to real; then vice is generated, the agent sinks on the scale of dete rioration, and consequently of misery. 13. It appears, then, that the will, in the exercise of its freedom, when pro ducing moral effects, is the instrument of the disposition ; and that the character of the effect bears an infallible and exact proportion to that of the predisposing cause. Yet the will in the exercise of choice is so free, that all constraint, coac tion, and irapulse, are entirely excluded frora that wliich constitutes the morality of the act. Here lies the essence of moral agency ; and the ground of account- ableness. The agent has a -moral alterative ; if he be differently minded he may choose otherwise than he actually does. If under benevolent influence he wiU, in proportion, infaUibly choose aright ; if under equitable, passive influence, the opporent good will not be the reoZ one, and consequently the choice will be morally bad. Means, objects perfectly suitable and sufficient, are exhibited to view ; but these of themselves would never determine the will, otherwise tho same effect would always follow the same means. Temptations also are pre sented ; these in like manner of themselves never determine the will, otherwise temptation and sin would be infalhbly connected. Then the holy Jesus could not have withstood the numerous and powerful solicitations of the tempter. But why did he withstand all ? Because objects of temptation did not constitute the whole of motives ; because objects operate according to the state of tho nrind ; and becanse in hirn benevolent influence counteracted passive power Sect. xi. Of God's inoral Character. ^G"* moral perfections of God, as exercised in his government of mankind. . The consistence of such a doctrine of necessity as has been maintained, with the fitness and reasonableness of Hence, when the prince of this world came, he found nothing in him ; and hence he rose to the greatest height of glory, having " a name above every name." 14. There is no end of objections and cavils, however demonstrative the proof; for such there have been against all the first principles of reUgion — the be ing of God — a revelation of his will to the human race — the doctrine of a future state, &c. Sc. Some may say. Why should sin be made to originate in these two things, liberty and passive power ? We answer, It has been deraonstrated, that all metaphysical, positive and negative, causation, in reference to raoral evil, is reducible to these two ; and therefore they might as vfell ask. Why one and one make two, rather than any other number ? 15. Others may say, Why not proceed from Gorf nfone ? They might as well ask. Why is not the sun the cause of darkness ? Love, the cause of enmity ? Wisdora, the cause of folly ? Happiness, the cause of misery ? Order, the cause of confusion ? But the cjfect, it may be said, is the same. VVe reply, the assig nation of a cause, whether true or false, does not alter the nature of phenomena. It would be, indeed, a strange phenomenon, hitherto unknown, and unknowable, for an hypothesis, however demonstrable, to alter the Tuifure of the things in ques tion. The effects are the same. Very true. But the question is not about the ef fects ; the enquiry is about the t-rue cause of those effects, in opposition to false philosophy. The e^ecJ of raoral evil is misery, or deserved suffering. Now does it make no difference, in justifying the ways of God to men, whether a rational, iraraortal being suffer deservedly or undeservedly 1 To suffer for moral evil, is to suffer deservedly ; but were sin and suffering from God alone, or the effect of con stituted laws, this could not be the case. To say, that this partial suffering may be ultiraately counterbalanced by a restoration, is begging the question, that theru wiU be a restoration. And if there were, what is it better than an apology for past injustice ? To suffer undeservedly, is to suffer unjustly ; and to punish at all is an act of injustice, if undeserved, as well as to punish for ever. 16. It may be again asked. What advantage is there in fixing on this origin of moral evil, rather than another ? We reply by putting another question. Why should we put up with a false cause assigned for any thing ? Surely, phenoraena more interesting, more alarming in their nature; and raore awful in their conse quences, than moral evils, cannot arrest human observation. And it would be passing strange to suppose, that the ascertaining of their true cause and origin is not an important part of philosophy, and deserving of the closest investigation. What can be raore dishonourable to the moral character of Deity, than to make sin originate in his will alone .' Or, if this be its origin, how preposterous to call it moral evil, as distinguished from natural ? How cruel and unjust, beyond pre cedent, to punish it ; and how absurd the idea of threatening punishment for what was irreversibly appointed. 17. Some may say. Why may we not be satisfied with the idea ofpermissi/m ? If properly understood, we acknowledge that this goes a considerable way. But we suspect, few seem acquainted with the fuU implication of the term. Godper- inits. True ; if by it wo mean he does not hinder. The free agent acts araiss when he is not hindered. This only shews, that God might hinder if he pleased ; but it assigns no cause v hy the agent acts amiss. Permilling, or not hindering, implies a cause distinct from divine causation. And the question returns, what is the cause of sin taking plate when not hindered ? In vain do we fix on chance, or a self-determining power ; these explain nothing, and in fact are nothing, as our author has demonstrated various ways. In vain do we say, sin arises from the abuse of liberty. For the question recurs, What is the cause of that abuse ? If this be not explained, nothing is effected. In vain shaU we say. It proceeds from the cause of causes. For that cause is good only. Frora such a cause only good can proceed ; and to ascribe sin to this cause is as proper as to say that moral evil is a good thing, and ought to be rewarded rather than punished. If this be not a rc- provable mode of calling " pvil good, and good evil," (Isai. v- 20.) we know not tvhaf is. : dreadful consequences of sin, ^«. ^c And in general, that they do not come as punishments, but purely as means to keep men from vice and to make them better.— If it be so, surely they are great means. Here is a mighty alteration : mankind, once so easy and happy, healthful, vigorous, and beautiful, rich in all the pleasant and abundant blessings of paradise, now turned out, destitute, weak, and decaying, into a wide barren world, yielding briars and thorns, instead of the delightful growth and sweet fruit of the garden of Eden, to wear out life in sorrow and toil, on the ground cursed for his sake ; and at last, either through long and lingering decay, or severe pain and acute disease, to expire and turn to putrefaction and dust. ¦ If these are only used as medicines, to prevent and to cure the , diseases of the mind, they are sharp medicines indeed ; espe cially death ; which, to use Hezekiah's representation, is as it were breaking all his bones. And one would think,- should be very effectual, if the subject had no depravity-— no evil and contrary bias to resist and hinder a proper efiect — especially in the old world, when the first occasion df this terrible altera tion, this severity of means, was fresh in memory, Adam continued alive near two thirds of the time before the flood ; so that a very great part of those who were alive till the flood might have opportunity of seeing and conversing with him, and hearing from his mouth not only an account of his fall, and the introduction of the awful consequences of it, but also of his first finding himself in existence in the new-created world, of the creation of Eve, and what passed between him and his Creator in paradise. But what was the success of these great means, to restrain men from sin and to induce them to virtue ? Did they prove sufficient ? — instead of this the world soon grew exceeding cor rupt ; till, to use our author's own words, mankind were univer saUy debauched into lust, sensuality, rapine, and injustice. Then God used further means: He sent iVoa/j, a preacher of righteousness to warn the world of the universal destruction which would come upon them by a flood of waters, if they went on in sin. This warning he delivered with circumstances tending to strike their minds and command their attention. He immediately went about building that vast structure, the ark, in which he must employ a great number of hands, and probably spent afl he had in the world to save himself and his family. And under these uncommon means God waited upon them one hundred and twenty years. — But all to no effect. The whole world, for ought appears, continued obstinate, and ab solutely incorrigible: So that nothing remained to be done with them, but utterly to destroy the inhabitants of the earth ; and to begin anew world from that single family who had dis tinguished themselves by their virtue, that from them might be Sect, vm. Great Means used to oppose Wickedness. 363 propagated a new and purer race. Accordingly, this was done : And the inhabitants of this new world, Noah's posteri • ty, had these new and extraordinary means to restrain sin and excite to virtue, in addition to the toil, sorrow, and common mortality, which the world had been subjected to before, in consequence of Adam's sin : viz. that God had newly testified his dreadful displeasure for sin, in destroying the many millions of mankind, all at one blow, old and young, men, woinen, and children, without pity on any for all the dismal shrieks and cries with which the world was filled. They themselves, the remaining family, were wonderfully distinguished by God's preserving goodness, that they might be a holy seed, being de livered from the corrupting examples of the old world ; and be ing all the offspring of a living parent, whose pious instructions and counsels they had, to enforce these things upon them, to prevent sin, and engage them to their duty. These inhabi tants of the new earth must, for a long time, have before their eyes many evident and striking effects of that universal destruc tion, to be a continual affecting admonition to them. And .besides all this, God now shortened the life of man to about one half of what it used to be. The shortening man^s life. Dr. T. says, (p. 68.) " Was that the wild range of ambition and lust might be brought into narrower bounds, and have less opportunity of domg mischief; and that death, being still nearer to our view, might be a more powerful motive to regard less the things of a transitory world, and to attend more to the rules of truth and wisdom," And now let us observe the consequence. — These new and extraordinary means, in addition to the former, were so far from proving sufficient, that the new world degenerated and became corrupt by such swift degrees, that as Dr. T. ob serves, mankind in general were sunk into idolatry, in about four hundred years after the flood, and so in about fifty years after Noah's death they became so wicked and brutish, as to forsake the true God, and turn to the worship of inanimate creatures. When things were come to this dreadful pass, God was pleased, for a remedy, to introduce a new and wonderful dis pensation — separating a particular family and people from all the rest of the world by a series of the most astonishing mira cles, done in the open view of the world ; and fixing their dwel ling as it were in the midst of the earth, between Asia, Europe and Africa, and in the midst of those nations which were most considerable for power, knowledge, and arts — that might, in an extraordinary manner, dwell among that people, in visible tokens of his presence. There he manifested himself, and thence to the world, by a course of miraculous operations and effects, for many ages ; that the people might be holy to God 3i)4 ORIGINAL SIN. P. I. Ch, I. as a kingdom of priests, and mi^t stand as a city on a hill, to be a light to the world. He also gradually shortened raan's life, till it was brought to about one-twelfth part of what it used to be before the flood ; and so, according to Dr. T, greatly diminishing his temptations to sin, and increasing his excite ments to holiness. — And now let us consider what the success of these means was, both as to the Gentile world, and the nation of Israel. Dr, T, justly observes, {Key, p. 24. § 75.) "The Jewish dispensation had respect to the nations of the world, to spread the knowledge and obedience of God in the earth ; and was established for the benefit of all mankind," — But how unsuc cessful were these means, and all other means used with the Heathen nations, so long as this dispensation lasted 1 Abraham was a person noted in all the principal nations then in the world ; as in Egypt, and the eastern monarchies, God made his name famous by his wonderful, distinguishing dispensations towards him, particularly by so miraculously subduing, before him and his trained servants, those armies of the four eastern kings. This great work of the most high God, possessor of heaven and earth, was greatly noticed by Melchizedeck ; and one would think should have been sufficient to awaken the attention of all the nations in that part of the world, and to lead them to the knowledge and worship of the only true God ; especially if considered in conjunction with that miraculous and most terrible destruction of Sodom and all the cities of the plain for their wickedness, with Lot's miraculous deliverance : facts which doubtless in their day were much famed abroad in the world. But there is not the least appearance, in any ac counts we have, of any considerable good effect. On the con trary, those nations which were most in the way of observing and being affected with these things, even the nations of Canaan, grew worse and worse, till their iniquity came to the full, in Joshua^s time. And the posterity of Lot, that saint so won derfully distinguished, soon became some of the most gross idolaters ; as they appear to have been in Moses's time, (See Num, xxv.) Yea, and the far greater part even of Abraham''s posterity, the children of Ishmael, Ziman, Joksham, Medan, Mi dian, Ishbak and Shuah, and Esau, soon forgot the true God, and fell off to heathenism. Great things were done in the sight of the nations, tend ing to awaken them and lead them to the knowledge and obe dience of the true God, in Jacob's and Joseph's time ; in that God did miracuously, by the hand of Joseph, preserve from perishing by famine as it were the whole world ; as appears by Gen. xli, 56, 57, Agreeably to which, the name that Pharaoh gave to Joseph, Zaphnath-Paaneah, as is said, in the Egyptian language signifies saviour of the world.. But there does not Sect. viii. Great Means used to oppose Wickedness. 865 appear to have been any go^ abiding effect of this ; no, not so ranch as among the Egyptians, the chief of all the heathen nations at that day, who had these great works of Jehovah in their most immediate view. On the contrary, they grew worse and worse, and seemed to be far more gross in their idolatries and ignorance of the true God, and every way more wicked and ripe for ruin, when Moses was sent to Pharaoh, than they were in Joseph's time. After this, in Moses and Joshua's time, the great God was pleased to manifest himself in a series of the most astonishing miracles for about fifty years together, wrought in the most public manner in Egypt, in the wilderness, and in Canaan, in the view as it were of the whole world ; miracles by which the world was shaken, the whole frame of the visible creation, earth, seas, and rivers, the atmosphere, the clouds, sun., moon, and stars were affected ; miracles greatly tending to convince the nations of the world of the vanity of their false gods, shewing Jehovah to be infinitely above them in the thing wherein they dealt most proudly, and exhibiting God's awful displeasure at the wickedness of the heathen world. And these things are expressly spoken of as one end of these great miracles. (Exod. ix. 14. Numb. xiv. 21. Josh. iv. 23, 24.) However, no reformation followed, but by the scripture-account, the nations which had them most in view, were dreadfiilly hard ened, stupidly refusing all conviction and reformation, and ob stinately went on in opposition to the Uving God, to their own destruction. After this, God from time to time very publicly manifest ed himself to the nations of the world, by wonderful works wrought in the time of the Judges, of a like tendency with those already mentioned. Particularly in so miraculously de stroying, by the hand of Gideon, almost the whole of that vast army of the Midianites, Amalekites, and all the children of the east, consisting of about 135,000 men. (Judg. vii. 12. and viii. 10.) But no reformation followed this, or the other great works of God, wrought in the times of Deborah and Barak, Jeptha and Sampson. After these things God used new, and in some respects much greater means with the heathen world, to bring them to the knowledge and service of the true God, in the days of David and Solomon. He raised up David, a man after his own heart, a most fervent worshipper of the true God and zealous hater of idols, and subdued before him almost all the nations between Egypt and Euphrates ; often miraculously assisting him in his battles with his enemies. And he con firmed Solomon his son in the full and quiet possession of that great empire fdr about forty years : and made him the wisest, richest, most magnificent, and every way the greatest 366 original sin. P, i, Ch. i. monarch that ever had been in the world ; and by far the most famous and of greatest name among the nations ; especially for his wisdom, and things concerning the name of his God; particularly the temple he built, which was exceeding magnifi cent, that it might be of fame and glory throughout all lands ; 1 Chron. xxii. 5. And we are told that there came of all peo ple to hear the wisdom of Solomon, from all kings of the earth. (1 Kings iv. 34. and x. 24.) And the scripture informs us that these great things were done, that the nations in far countries might hear of God's great name, and of his out-stretched arm; that all the people of the earth might fear him, as well as his people Israel : And that all the people of the earth might know that the Lord was God, and that there was none else. (1 Kings viii. 41 — ili, 60.) But still there is no appearance of any con siderable abiding effect, with regard to any one heathen na tion. After this, before the captivhy in Babylon, many great things were done in the sight ofthe Gentile nations, very much tending to enlighten, affect and persuade them. As God des troying the army of the Ethiopians of a thousand thousand, be fore Asa ; Elijah's and Elisha's miracles ; especially Elijah mi raculously confounding Baal's prophets and worshippers ; Elisha healing Naaman, the king of Syria's prime minister and the miraculous victories obtained, through Elisha's prayers, over the Syrians, Moabites, and Edomites; the miraculous destruction ofthe vast united army of the children of Moab, Ammon, and Edom, at Jehoshaphat's^prayer. (2 Chron. xx.) Jonah's preach ing at Nineveh, together with the miracle of his deliverance from the whale's belly,; which was published, and well attested, as a sign to confirm his preaching : But more especially that great work of God, in destroying Sennacherib's army by an an gel, for his contempt of the God of Israel, as if he had been no more than the gods ofthe heathen. When all these things proved ineffectual, God took a new method with the heathen world, and used, in some respects, much greater means to convince and reclaim them, than ever before. In the first place, his people, the Jews, were removed to Babylon, the head and heart of the heathen world {Chaldea having been very much the fountain of idolatry) to carry thith er the revelations which God had made of himself, contained in the sacred writings ; and there to bear their testimony against idolatry ; as some of them, particularly Daniel, Shadrach, Me- shack, and Abed-nego, did in a very open manner before the king and the greatest men ofthe empire, with such circumstan ces as made their testimony very famous in the world. And God confirmed it with great miracles ; which were published through the empire by order of its monarch, as the mighty works ofthe God of Israel, shewing him to be above all gods : Daniel, that Sect. viu. Great Means used to oppose Wickedness. 367 great prophet, at the same time being exalted to be governor of all the wise men of Babylon, and one of the chief officers of Nebuchadnezzar's court. After this, God raised up Cyrus to destroy Babylon, for its obstinate contempt of the true God and injuriousness to wards his people ; according to the prophecies of Jsaiah, speaking of him by name, instructing him concerning the na ture and dominion of the true God, (Isai, xiv,) Which pro phecies were probably shewn to him, whereby he was induced to publish his testimony concerning the God of Israel, as the God. (Ezra, i, 2, 3,) Daniel, about the same time, being ad vanced to be prime minister of state in the new empire erected under Darius, did in that place appear openly as a worshipper of the God of Israel, and him alone ; God confirming his testi mony for him, before the king and all the grandees of his king dom, by preserving him in the den of lions ; whereby Darius was induced to publish to all people, nations, and languages, that dwell in all the earth, his testimony that that the God of Israel was the living God, and steadfast for ever, &.c. When after the destruction of Babylon, some of the Jews returned to their own land, multitudes never returned, but were dispersed abroad through many parts of the vast Persian empire ; as appears by the book of Esther. And many of them afterwards, as good histories inform us, were removed into the more western parts of the world ; and so were dis persed as it were all over the heathen world; having the holy scriptures with them, and synagogues every where for the worship of the true God. And so it continued to be to the days of Christ and his apostles ; as appears by the Acts of the Apostles. Thus that light, which God had given them, was carried abroad into all parts of the world : So that now they had far greater advantages to come to the knowledge of the truth in matters of religion, if they had been disposed to improve their advantages. And besides all these things, from about Cyrus's time, learning and philosophy increased, and was carried to a great height, God raised up a number of men of prodigious genius, to instruct others, and improve their reason and understand ing, in the nature of things : And philosophic knowledge having gone on to increase for several ages, seemed to be got to its height before Christ came, or about that time. And now let it be considered what was the effect of all these things. — Instead of a reformation, or any appearance or -ptospect of it, the heathen world in general rather grew worse. As Dr, WiNDAB observes, " The inveterate absurdities of pagan idolatry continued without remedy, and increased as arts and learning increased ; and paganism prevailed in all its height of absurdity, when pagan nations were polished to the height. 368 ORIGINAL SIN. P. 1. Ch. I. and in the most polite cities and countries ; and thus continued to the last breath of pagan power." And so it was with re spect to wickedness in general, as well as idolatry ; as appears by what the apostle Paul observes in Rom, i, — Dr. T. speak ing of the time when the gospel-scheme was introduced, {Key,, §289,). says, "The moral and religious state ofthe heathen was very deplorable, being generally sunk into great ignorance, gross idolatry, and abominable vice," Abominable vices pre vailed, not only among the common people, but even among their philosophers themselves, yea, some of the chief of them, and of greatest genius ; so Dr. T, himself observes, as to that detestable vice of sodomy, which they commonly and openly allowed and practised without shame, (See Dr, T,'s note on Rom, 1, 27,) Having thus considered the state of the heathen world, with regard to the effect of means used for its reformation during the Jewish dispensation, from the first foundation of it in Abraham's time ; let us now consider how it was with that people themselves, who were distinguished with the peculiar privileges of that dispensation. The means used with the heathen nations were great ; but they were small if compared with those used with the Israelites. The advantages by which' that people were distinguished are represented in scripture as vastly above all parallel, in passages which Dr, T, takes notice of {Key, § 54.) And he reckons these privileges among those which he calls antecedent blessings, consisting in motives to virtue and obedience ; and says, {Key, § 66,) " That this was the very end and design of the dispensation of God's extraordinary favours to the Jews, viz. to engage them to duty and obedience, or that it was a scheme for promoting virtue, is clear beyond dispute, from every part of the old tes tament." Nevertheless, the generality of that people, through all the successive periods of that dispensation, were men of a wicked character. But it will be more abundantly manifest how strong the natural bias to iniquity appeared to be among that people, by considering more particularly their condition from time to time. Notwithstanding the great things God had done in the times of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, to separate them and their posterity from the idolatrous world, that they migbt be a holy people to himself; yet in about two hundred years after Jiacoft's death, and in less than one hundred and fifty years after the death of Joseph, and while some were alive who had seen Joseph, the people had in a great measure lost the true religion, and were apace conforming to the heathen world. For a reme dy, and the more effectually to alienate them from idols and engage them to the God of their fathers, God appeared, in order to bring them out from among the Egyptians and sepa- Sect. viii. Great means medio oppose Wickedness. 369 rate them from the heathen world, and to reveal himself in his glory and majesty, in so affecting and astonishing a manner as tended most deeply and durably to impress their minds ; that they might never forsake him any more. But so perverse were they, that they murmured even in the midst of the mira cles that God wrought for them in Egypt, and murmured at the Red Sea, in a few days after God had brought them out with such a mighty hand. When he had led them through the sea, they sang his praise, but soon forgot his works. Before they got to Mount Sinai, they openly manifested their perverse ness from time to time ; so that God says of them, Exod, xvi, 28, How long refuse ye to keep my commandments and my laws ? Afterwards they murmured again at Rephidim. In about two months after they came out of Egypt, they came to Mount Sinai; where God entered into a most solemn covenant with the people, that they should be an holy people nnto him, with such astonishing manifestations of his power, raajesty, and holiness, as were altogether unparalleled. God puts the people in mind, (Deut. iv, 32 — 34,) For ask now of the days tliat are past, which were before thee, since the day that God created man upon the earth; and ask from one side ^hea ven unto the other, whether there has been any such thing as this great thing is, or hath been heard, like it. Did ever people hear the voice of God speaking out of the midst of the fire, as thou hast heard, and live ? Or hath God assayed to take him a nation from the midst of another nation, ^c. ? And these great things were in order to impress their rainds with such a conviction and sense of divine truth, and their obligations, that they might never forget thera ; as God says, (Exod. xix, 9,) Lo, I come unto thee in a thick cloud, that the people may hear when I speak with thee, and believe thee for ever. But what was the effect of all ? It was not more than two or three months, before that peo ple, under that very raountain, returned to their old Egyptian idolatry, and were singing and dancing before a golden calf^ which they had set up to worship.' And after awful manifesta tions of God's displeasure for that sin, and so much done to bring them to repentance and confirm them in obedience, it was but a few months before they came to that violence of spir it, in open rebellion against Grod, that with the utmost vehe^ mence they declared their resolution to follow God no longer, but to make them a captain to return into Egypt. And thus they went on in perverse opposition to the Most High, from time to tirae, repeating their open acts of rebellion, in the raidst of continued astonishing miracles till that generation was de stroyed. And though the following generation seems to have been the best that ever was in Israel, yet notwithstanding their good example, and notwithstanding all the wonders of God's power and love to that people in Joshua's time, how soon VOL. XI. 47 S7G ORIGINAL SIN. P" !• Ck. I. did that people degenerate, and begin to forsake God, and join with the heathen in their idolatries, till God by severe means, and by sending prophets and judges, extraordinarily influenced from above, reclaimed them? But when they were brought to some reformation by such means, they soon fell away again in to the practice of idolatry ; and so from one age to another ; and nothing proved effectual for any abiding reformation. After things had gone on thus for several hundred years, God used new methods with his people, in two respects ; First,^ he raised up a great prophet, under whom a number of young men were trained up in schools, that from among them there might be a constant succession of great prophets in Israel, oi such as God should choose ; which seems to have been coritm- ned for more than five hundred years. Secondly, God raised up a great king, David, one erainent for wisdom, piety, and for titude, to subdue all their heathen neighbours, who used to be such a snare to them ; and to confirra, adorn, and per fect the institutions of his public worship ; and by him to re veal more fully the great salvation and future glorious king dom of the Messiah. And after him was raised up his son^ Solomon^ the wisest emd greatest prince that ever was on earth, . more fully to settle and establish those thuigs which his Father David had begun concerning the public worship of God in Isrctel, and to build a glorious temple for the honour of Jehovah and the institutions ofhis worship, and to instruct the neighbour na tions in true wisdom and religion. But what was the success of these new and extraordinary means ? If we take Dr. T. for our expositer of scripture, the nation must be extremely corrupt in David's tirae ; for he supposes he has respect to his own times in those words, Psal. xiv, 3, 3, The Lord looked down from heaven, to see if there were any that did understand, and seek God; they are all gone aside : they are together become filthy ; there is none that doeth good ; no, not one. But, wheth er Dr. T. be in the right in this or not, yet if we consider what appeared in Israel in Absalom''s and Sheba''s rebellion, we shall not see cause to think, that the greater part of the nation at that day were men of true wisdom and piety. As to Solotnon's time, Dr, T. supposes, as has been already observed, that Solo mon speaks of his own times, when he says, he had found but one in a thousand that was a thoroughly upright man. However, it appears, that all those great means used to pro mote and establish virtue and true religion, in Samuel's, Da,. vid's, and Solomon's times, were so far from having any gene ral abiding good effect in Israel, that Solomon himself, with all his wisdom, and notwithstanding the unparalleled favours of God to him, had his mind corrupted so as openly to tolerate idolatry in the land, and greatly to provoke God against him. And as soon as he was dead, ten tribes of the twelve forsook the Sect. vm. Great Means used to »ppbse VVickedness. 'Sfl true worship of God, and instead of it, openly established the like idolatry that the people fell into at mount Sinai, when they made the golden calf; and continued finally obstinate in this apostacy, notwithstanding all means that could be used with thera by the prophets whom God sent, one after another, to re prove, counsel, and warn them, for about two hundred and fifty years ; especially those two great prophets, Elijah and Elisha. Oi all the kings that reigned over thera, there was not so much as one but what was of a wicked character. And at last their case seemed utterly desperate ; so that nothing remained to be done with them, but to remove them out of God's sight. Thus the scripture represents the matter, 2 Kings xvii. And as to the other two tribes ; though their kings were al ways of the family of David, and they were favoured in many respects far beyond their brethren, yet they were generally ex ceeding corrupt. Their kings were, most of them, wicked men, and their other magistrates, and priests and people, were generally agreed in the corruption. Thus the matter is repre sented in the scripture history, and the books of the prophets. And when they had seen how God had cast off the ten tribes, instead of taking warning, they raade themselves vastly more vile than ever the others had done. 2 Kings xvii. 18, 19. Ezek. xvi. 46, 47, 51. God indeed waited longer upon them, for his servant David's sake, and for Jerusalem's sake, that he had chosen ; and used more extraordinary means with thera ; especially by those great prophets, Isaiah and Jere miah, but to no effect : So that, at last, as the prophets repre sent the matter, they were like a body universally and despe rately diseased and corrupted, that would admit of no cure, the whole head sick, and the whole heart faint, &c. Things being come to that pass, God took this method with thera ; he utterly destroyed their city and land, and the temple which he had araong thera, raade thorough work in purging the land' of them ; as when a raan empties a dish, wipes it, and turns it upside down : or when a vessel is cast into a fierce fire, till its filthiness is thoroughly burnt out. (2 Kings xxi. 13. Ezek. chap, xxiv.) They were carried into captivity and there left, tiU that wicked generation was dead and those old rebels were purged out ; that afterwards the land might be resettled with a more pure generation. After the return frbm the captivity, and God had built the Jewish church again in their own land, by a series of won derful providences; yet they corrupted themselves again to so great a degree, that the transgressors were come to the full again in the days of Antiochus Epiphanes; as the matter is represented in the prophecy of Daniel. (Dan, viii. 23.) And then God made them the subjects of a dispensation, little, if any thing, less terrible, than that which had been in Nebuchad^ 37^i oHiGiNAfc- s^^¦. P< I. Ch. I.. nc2«ar''s days. And after God had again delivered them, and restored the state of religion among them, by the instrumentali ty of the Maccabees, they degenerated again : So that when Christ came, they were arrived to that extreme degree of corruption which is represented in the accounts given by the Evangelists. It may be observed here in general, that the Jews, though so vastly distinguished with advantages, means, and motives to holiness, yet are represented, frora time to time, as more wicked in the sight of God, than the very worst ofthe heathen. As, of old, God sware by his life that the wickedness of So dom was small corapared with that of the Jews; (Ezek. xvi. 47, 48, &c. also chap. v. 5 — 10.) So Christ, speaking of the Jews in his tirae, represents thera as having rauch greater guilt tlian the inhabitants of Tyre and Sydon, or even Sodom and Gomorrah. But we are now come to the time when the grandest scene was displayed that ever was opened on earth. After all other schemes had been so long and so thoroughly tried, and had so greatly failed of success, both among Jews and Gentiles ; that wonderful dispensation was at length introduced — the greatest scheme for suppressing and restraining iniquity among man kind, that ever infinite wisdom and mercy contrived— even the glorious gospel of Jesus Christ. , " A new dispensation of grace was erected (to use Dr. T's, own words, p. 239, 240) for the raore certain and effectual sanctification of raankind into the image of God ; delivering them from the sin and wickedness into which they might fall, or were already fallen ; to redeera thera from all iniquity, and bring them to the knowledge and obedience of God," In whatever high and exalted terms the scripture speaks of the means and motives which the Jews en joyed of old ; yet their privileges are represented as having no glory, in comparison of the advantages of the gospel. Dr. T,'s words (p. 233,) are worthy to be here repeated. " Even the heathen (says he) knew God, and might have glorified him as God ; but under the glorious light of the gospel, we have very clear ideas of the divine perfections, and particularly of the love of God as our Father, and as the God and Father of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. We see our duty in the utmost extent, and the most cogent reasons to perform it : We have eternity opened to us, even an endless state of honour and felicity, the reward of virtuous actions ; and the Spirit of God promised for our direction and assistance. And all this may and ought to be applied to the purifying of our minds and the perfecting of holiness. And to these happy advantages we are born ; for which we" are bound for ever to praise and magnify the rich grace of God in the Redeemer." Sect, vui. Great means used to oppose Wickedness. 373 And he elsewhere says,* " The gospel constitution is a scheme the most perfect and effectual for restoring true religion, and proraoting virtue apd happiness, that ever the world has yet seen," Andt admirably adapted to enlighten our minds and sanctify our hearts. AndX never were motives so divine and powerful proposed, to induce us to the practice of all virtue and goodness. And yet even these means have been ineffectual upOn the far greater part of them with whom they have been used ; of the many that have been called few have been chosen. As to the Jews, God's ancient people, with whora they were used in the first place, and used long by Christ and his apostles, the generality of them rejected Christ and his gospel with extrerae pertinacity of spirit. They not only went on still in that career of corruption which had been increasing from the time of the Maccabees ; but Christ's coming, his doctrine and miracles, the preaching of his followers, and the glorious things that attended the same, were the occasion, through their per verse misimprovement, of an infinite increase of their wick edness. They crucified the Lord of Glory with the utmost raalice and cruelty, and persecuted his followers ; they pleased not God, and were contrary to all raen ; they went on to grow worse and worse, till they filled up the measure of their sin, and wrath carae upon them to the uttermost ; and they were de stroyed and cast out of God's sight, with unspeakably greater tokens ofthe divine abhorrence and indignation, than in the days of Nebuchadnezzar. The greater part of the whole nation were slain, and the rest were scattered abroad through the earth in the raost abject and forlorn circumstances. And in the same spirit of unbelief and malice against Christ and the Gospel, and in their miserable dispersed circumstances, do they remain to this day. And as to the gentile nations, though there was a glorious success of the gospel amongst them in the apostles' days ; yet probably not one in ten of those that had the gospel preached to thera erabraced it. The powers ofthe world were set against it, and persecuted it with insatiable malignity. And among the professors of Christianity, there presently appeared in raany a disposition to abuse the gospel to the service of pride and li centiousness. The apostles foretold a grand apostacy of the christian world which should continue many ages ; and obser ved, that there appeared a disposition to such an apostacy among professing christians, even in that day. (2 Thess. ii. 7.) The greater part of the ages now elapsed, have been spent in that grand and general apostacy, under which the christian world, as it is called, has been transformed into what has been ¦^ Key, § 167. t -Vote o» Rom. i. 16. t Pref to Par. mi Rom. p. 145, 47. 374 oiiieiNAL SIN. P- !• Ch. i* vastly more dishonourable and hateful to God, and repugnant to true vntue, than the state of the heathen worid before ; Which is agreeable to the prophetical descriptions given of it by the Holy Spirit. In these latter ages ofthe christian church, God has raised up a number of great and good raen to bear testimony against the corruptions of the Church of Rome, and by their means in troduced that light into the world, by which, in a short tirae, at least one third part of Europe was delivered from the raore gross enormities of Antichrist ; Which was attended at first with a great reformation as to vital and practical religion. But how is the gold become dim ! To what a pass are things come in protestant countries at this day, and in our nation in particu lar ! To what a prodigious height has a deluge of infidelity, profaneness, luxury, debauchery, and wickedness of every kind, arisen ! The poor savage Americans are raere babes, if I raay so speak, as to proficiency in wickedness, in comparison of mul titudes in the christian world, Dr, T, hiraself, as before observ ed, represents, that the generality of christians have been the most wicked, lewd, bloody, and treacherous of all mankind ; and {Key, § 388,) that " The wickedness of the christian world rend ers it so much like the heathen, that the good^ effects of our change to Christianity are but little seen." With respect to the dreadful corruption of the present day, it is to be considered, besides the advantages already men tioned, that great advances in learning and philosophic know ledge have been made in the present and past century : afford ing great advantage for a proper and enlarged exercise of our rational powers, arid for our seeing the bright raanifestation of God's perfections in his works. And it is to be observed, that the ineans and inducements to virtue which this age enjoys, are in addition to most of those which were mentioned before, as given of old ; ahd among other things, in addition to the shortening of man's life to 70 or 80 years, from near a thousand. And, with regard to this, I would observe, that as the case now stands in christendora, take one with another ofthose who ever come to years of discretion, their life is not more than forty or forty-five years ; which is but about the twentieth part of what it once was : And not so much in great cities, places where profaneness, sensuality, and debauchery, commonly prevail to the greatest degree. Dr. T. (Key, § I.) truly observes, That God has from the beginning exercised wonderful and infinite wisdorii in the methods he has, from age to age, raade use of to oppose vice, cure corruption, and proraote virtue in the world ; and intro duced several schemes to that end. It is indeed remarkable, , how many schemes and methods were tried of old, both before and after the flood ; how many were used in the times of the Sect, VIII. Great means used to oppose Wickedness. 375 old testament, both with jews and heathens, and how ineffec tual all these ancient methods proved, for 4000 years together, till God introduced that grand dispensation, for redeeming men from all iniquity, and purifying them to himself, a people zea lous of good works ; which the scripture represents as the sub ject of the admiration of angels. But even this has now so long proved ineffectual, with respect to the generahty, that Dr, T. thinks there is need of a new dispensation ; the present light of the.gospel being insuffi,cient for the full reformation of the Christian world, by reason of its corruptions : (Note on Rora. i. 27.) — And yet all these things, according to him, without any natural bias to the contrary ; no stream of natural incli nation or propensity at all, to oppose inducements to good ness ; no native opposition of heart, to withstand those gra cious raeans which God has ever used with" mankind, frora the beginning of the world to this day ; any more than there was in the heart of Adam the moment God created him in perfect innocence. Surely Dr, T,'b scheme is attended with strange para doxes. And that his mysterious tenets may appear in a true light, it raust be observed that — at the sarae time he supposes these means, even the very greatest and best of thera, to have proved so ineffectual, that help from thera, as to any general reformation, is to be despaired of — that he maintains all man kind, even the heathen in all parts of the world, yea, every single person in it, (which must include every Indian in Ame- ca, before the Europeans came hither ; and every inhabitant of the unknown parts of Africa and Terra Australis) has abi lity, light, and means sufficient to do their whole duty ; yea, many passages in his writings plainly suppose, to perform per fect obedience to God's law, without the least degree of vice or iniquity.* But 1 raust not orait to observe, that Dr. T. supposes, the reason why the gospel-dispensation has been so ineffectual, is, that it has been greatly misunderstood and perverted. In his Key, (§389,) he says, "Wrong representations of the scheme of the gospel have greatly obscured the glory of divine grace, and contributed rauch to the corruption of its professors.— Such doctrines have been alraost universally taught and re ceived, as quite subvert it. Mistaken notions about nature, grace, election and reprobation, justification, regeneration, re.. demption, calling, adoption, ^c, have quite taken away the very ground of the Christian life," But how came the gospel to be so universally andiexceed- ingly misunderstood ? Is^ it because it is in itself so very dark and unintelligible, and not adapted to the apprehensioh of the * See p. 259, 63, 64, 72. S. 376 oaiGiNAL SIN. P. I. Ch. i. human faculties ? If so, how is the possession of such an ob scure and unintelligible thing, so glorious an advantage? — Or is it because of the native blindness, corruption, and supersti tion of raankind? But this is giving up the thing in question, and allowing a great depravity of nature. Dr. T-. speaks of the gospel as far otherwise than dark and unintelligible ; he represents it as exhibiting the clearest and raost glorious light, calculated to deliver the world frora darkness, and to bring them into marvellous light. He speaks of the light which the Jews had under the Mosaic dispensation, as vastly exceeding the light of nature . which the heathen enjoyed ; and yet he supposes, that even the latter was so clear, as to be sufficient to lead men to the knowledge of God and their whole duty to him. He speaks of the light ofthe gospel as vastly exceeding the light of the Old Testament ; and says of the apostle Paul in particular, " That he wrote with great perspicuity ; that he takes great care to explain every part of his subject ; that he has left no part of it unexplained and unguarded ; and that never was an author raore exact and cautious in this,"* Is it not strange, therefore, that the Christian world, without any native depravity, should be so blind in the raidst of such glar ing light, as to be all, or the generality, agreed, frora age to age, so essentially to misunderstand that which is raade so very plain ? Dr. T. says (p. 167. S.) " It is my persuasion, that the Christian religion was very early and grievously corrupted by dreaming, ignorant, superstitious monks, too conceited to be satisfied with the plain gospel ; and has long remained in that deplorable state." — But how carae the whole Christian world, without any blinding depravity, to hearken to these ignorant, foolish raen, rather than unto wiser and better teachers ? Especially, when the latter had plain gospel on their side, and the doctrines of the other were (as our author supposes) so very contrary not only to the plain gospel, but to men's reason and common sense ? Or were all the teachers of the Christian church nothing but a parcel of ignorant dreamers ? If so, this is very strange indeed, unless raankind naturally love darkness, rather than light; seeing in all parts of the Christian world there was a great multitude in the work of the ministry, who had the gospel in their hands, and whose whole business it was to study and teach it ; and therefore had in finitely greater advantages to become truly wise, than the hea then philosophers. But if, by ' some strange and inconceiva ble means, notwithstanding all these glorious advantages, all the teachers of the christian church through the world, without any native evil propensity, very early became silly - Pref. to Par. on Korti. p. 146, 48.. Sect, viii, Grreat Means used to oppose Wickedness. 377 dreamers — and also in their dreaming, generally stumbled on the same individual monstrous opinions, and so the world might be bhnded for a while — ^yet, why did they not hearken to that wise and great man, Pelagius, and others like him, when he plainly held forth the truth to the christian world ? Especially seeing his instructions were so agreeable to the plain doctrines, and the bright and clear light of the gospel of Christ, and also so agreeable to the plainest dictates of the common sense and understanding of all raankind ; but the other so repugnant to it, that (according to our author) if they were true, it would prove understanding to be no understanding, and the word of God to be no rule of truth, nor at all to be relied upon, and God to be a Being worthy ofno regard ! Besides, if the inefficacy of the gospel to restrain sin and proraote virtue be owing to the general prijvalence of these doctrines, which are supposed to be so absurd and contrary to the gospel, here is this further to be accounted for ; naraely, Why, since there has been so great an increase of light in reli gious matters (as must be supposed on Dr. T.'s scheme) in this and the last age, and these monstrous doctrines of original sin, election, reprobation, justification, regeneration, &c. have been so much exploded, especially in our nation, there has been no reforraation attending this great advanceraent of light and truth : But on the contrary, vice, and every thing opposite to practical Christianity, has gone on to increase with such a pro digious celerity as to become like an overflowing deluge ; threat ening, unless God mercifully interposes, speedily to swallow up all that is virtuous and praiseworthy. Many other things might have been mentioned under this head — the means which raankind have had to restrain vice and promote virtue — such as wickedness being many ways contrary to men's teraporal interest and corafort, and their having con tinually before their eyes so raany instances of persons made miserable by their vices; the restraints of human laws, without which men cannot live in society ; the judgments of God brought on men for their wickedness with which history abounds, and the providential rewards of virtue ; and innumerable particular raeans that God has used from age to age to curb the wickedness of mankind, which I have omitted. But there would be no end of a particular enumeration of such things. They that will not be convinced by the instances which have been mentioned, probably would not be convinced, if the world had stood a thousand times so long, and we had the raost authentic and certain accounts of means having been used from the beginning, in a thousand times greater variety ; and new dispensations had been introduced, after others had been tried in vain, ever so often, and still to little effect. He that will not be convinced by a thousand good witness^ VOL. IT. 48 378 ORIGINAL SIN. Ch. U es, it is not likely that he would be convinced by a thousand thousand, . , The proofs that have been extant in the worid, trom toal and fact, of the depravity of man's nature, are inexpressible, and as it were infinite, beyond the representation of all simili tude. If there were a piece of ground which abounded with briars and thorns, or some poisonous plant, and all mankind had used their endeavours, for a thousand years together, to • suppress that evil growth — and to bring that ground by manure and cultivation, planting and sowing, to produce better fruit, all in vain ; it would still be over-run with the sarae noxious growth — it would not be a proof that such a produce was agreeable to the nature of that soil, in any wise to be cora pared to that which is given in divine providence, that wick edness is a produce agreeable to the nature of the field of the world of mankind. For the means used with it have been va rious, great and wonderful, contrived by the unsearchable and boundless wisdom of God ; medicines procured with infinite expense, exhibited with a vast apparatus ; a marvellous succes sion of dispensations, introduced one after another, displaying an incomprehensible length and breadth, depth and height, of divine wisdom, love and power, and every perfection of the godhead, to the eternal admiration of principalities and powers in heavenly places^ SECT. IX. Several Evasions ofthe argumentsfor the Depravity of Nature from Trial and Events considered. Evasion I. Dr. T. says, (p. 231, 232.) "^dawi's natuiev it is allowed, was very far from being sinful ; yet he sinned. And therefore, the common doctrine of Original Sin is no more necessary to account for the sin that has been or is in the world, than it is to account for Adam's sin."* Again, (p. 52 — 54. S. &c.) " If we allow mankind to be as wicked as R. R. has represented them to be ; and suppose that there is not one upon earth that is truly righteous and without sin^ and that some are very enormous sinners, yet it will not thence follow that they are naturally corrupt. — For, if sinful action infers a nature originally corrupt, then, whereas Adam (according to them that hold the doctrine of Original Sin) committed the most heinous and aggravated sin that ever was coraraitted in the world ; for, according to thera, he had greater light than any other man in the world, tb know his duty, and greater * Belsham. ^ ECT. IX. sneral EcasioHS considered. 379 power than any other man to fulfil it- and was under greater obligations than any otlier man to obedience -. he sinned when he knew he was the representative of millions, and that the happy or miserable state of all mankind depended on liis con duct ; which never was, nor can be, the ease of any other man ia the world: — ^Then, I say, it will follow, that A« nature was originaUy -corrupt, ire, — Thus their argument from the wicked ness of mankind, to prove a sinliil and cornipt nature, must in evitably and irrecoverably fall to the ground. — Which will ap pear more abondantly, if we take in the case of the angels, who in nombers sinned and kept not tteir first ^;tate, though created with a natare superior to Adam's.'' Again, (p. 145 S.) '•'When h is inquired, how it comes to pass that our appetites and pas- ."^ons are now so irregoiar and strong, as that not one person has resisted them, so as to keep himself pure and innocent? If this be the case, if such as make the inqnirr will tell the world how it came to pas that Adtai's applies and passions were so irF^alar and strong that he did not reast them so as to keep himself pore and innocent, when npcm their principles he was &r more able to have redsted them ; I also will tell them how it comes to pass that his posterity does not resist them. Sin doth not alter its nature by its being general ; and therefiire how far soever it spreads, it must come upon all just as it came upon Adamf''' These things are delivered with much assurance. Bnt is there any reason in such a way of talking? One thing imphed in it, and tbe main thing, if any at all to the purpose, is, that because an effect being general does not alter the tuxlvre ofthe efect, therefore nothing more can be argued concerning the cause from iis happening constantly, and in the most steady Bianner, than from its happening but once. But how contrary is this w reason ? Suppose a person, through the deceitfiil persuasions of a pretended friend, once tak^ a poisonous draught of liquor to which he had before no inclination ; but after he has once taken ofit, he is observed to act as one that has an insatiable, incurable thirst after more of the same, in his constant practice, obstiiiately continued in as long as he lives, against all posible arguments and endeavours used to dissuade him from it. And suppose we should from hence argue a fixed inclination, and b^pn to snq>ect that this is the nature and opraution of the poisoxL, to produce such an inclination, or that this strong propensity is some way the consequence of the first draught. In such a case, could it be said with good reason, that a fixed propensity can no more be argued from his conse quent constant practice than from his first draught ? Or, sup- ipose a yooDg man, soberly inclined, enticed by wicked com- panicHis, should drink to exces, until he had got a habit of excessive diinkiDg, and =hould come under the power of a 380 ORIGINAL SIN, P. I. C'll. I. greedy appetite after strong drink, so that drunkenness should become a common and constant practice with him : And Suppose an observer, arguing from this general practice, should say, " It must needs be that this young man has a fixed incli nation to that sin ; otherwise, how should it come to pass that he should make such a trade of it ?" And another, ridicuhng the weakness of his arguing, should reply, " Do you tell me how it came to pass, that he was guilty of that sin the first time, without a fixed inclination, and I will tell you how he is guilty of it so generally without a fixed inclination. Sin does not alter its nature by being general: And therefore, how common soever it becomes, it raust corae at all times by the same means that it came at first." I leave it to every one to judge, who would be chargeable with weak arguing in such a case. It is true there is no effect without sorae cause, ground, or reason of that effect, and some cause answerable to the effect. But certainly it will not follow that a transient effect requires a permanent cause or a fixed propensity. An effect happening once, though great, yea, though it may come to pass on the same occasion in many subjects at the same time, will not prove any fixed propensity or permanent influ ence. It is true, it proves an influence great and extensive, answerable to the effect, once exerted, or once effectual ; but it proves nothing in the cause j^:re traordinary should be done to prevent it. Then, for a remedy, God separated Abraham and his family from all the rest of the world, that they might be de livered from the influence of bad example, and that in his posterity he might have an holy seed, Thus God again planted a noble vine ; Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob being emi nently pious. But how soon did their posterity degenerate, till true religion was hke to be swaflowed up ? We see how desperately, and almost universally corrupt they were, when God brought them out of Egypt, and led them in the wilder ness. Then God was pleased, before he planted his people in Canaan, to destroy that perverse generation in the wilder- vol. n. 49 386 ORIGINAL SIN. ?• I- Ch, I. ness, that he might plant them there a noble vine, wholly a right seed, and set them out with good exaraple, in the land where they were to have their settled abode. Jer. ii. 21. It is evident that the generation which came with Joshua into Canaan was an excellent generation, by innumerable things said of thera.* But how soon did that people, nevertheless, become the degen erate plant ofa strange vine ? And when the nation had a long time proved desperately and incurably corrupt, God destroyed them, and sent them in to captivity — till the old rebels were dead and purged out, in order to deliver their children from their evil example. And when the foflowing generation was purified as in a fiirnace, God planted them again, in the land oi Israel, a noble vine, and set them out with good example ; which yet was not followed by their posterity. When again the corruption was become inveterate, the christian church was planted ; and a glorious out-pouring ofthe Spirit of God caused true virtue and piety to be exemplified far beyond what ever had been on earth before ; and thus the christian church was planted a noble vine. But that primitive good example has not prevailed to cause virtue to be generally and steadfastly maintained in the christian world. To how great a degree it has been otherwise, has already been observed. After raany ages of general and dreadful apostacy, God was pleased to erect the protestant church, as separated from the raore corrupt part of Christendom ; and true piety flourish ed in it very much at first ; God planted it a noble vine : But notwithstanding the good examples of the first reformers, what a melancholy pass is the protestant world come to at this day ? When England grew very corrupt, God brought over a number of pious persons, and planted them in New England, and this land was planted with a noble vine. But how is the gold become dim I How greatly have we forsaken the pious examples of our fathers ! - So prone have mankind always proved themselves to de generacy and backsliding, that it shew% plainly their natural propensity. And when good has revived and been promoted among raen, it has been by some divine interposition oppos ing the natural current; the fruit of some extraordinary means. And the efficacy of such means has soon been overcome by constant natural bias, the effect of good example presently lost, and evil has regained the dominion. Like a heavy body, which may by some great power be caused to ascend, against its nature, a little while, but soon goes back again towards the center, to which it naturally and constantly tends. * See Jer. ii. 2, 3. Psal. Ixyiii. 14. Josh. xxii. 2. and xxiii. 8. Deut. iv. 3. 4. Hos. xi. 1. and ix. 10. Judgrii. 7, 17, 22. and many other places. Sect. ix. Several Evasions considered. 387 So that evil exaraple wiU in no wise account for the cor ruption of raankind, without supposing a natural proneness to sin. The tendency of example alone will not account for ge neral wicked practice, as consequent on good example. And if the influence of bad example is a reason of some of the wick edness, that alone will not account for raen becoming worse than the exaraple set, degenerating raore and raore, and grow ing worse and worse, which has been their manner, 2, There has been given to the world an example of vir tue, which, were it not for a dreadful depravity of nature, would have influence on them who live under the gospel, far beyond all other examples ; that is, the example of Jesus Christ, God, who knew the huraan nature, and how apt men are to be influenced by example, has raade answerable provision. His infinite wisdora has contrived that we should have set before us the raost araiable and perfect exaraple, in such cir curastances as should have the greatest tendency to influence all the principles of man's nature but his corruption. Men are apt to be moved by the example of others like themselves, or in their own nature : therefore this example was given in our nature. Men are ready to follow the example of the^ea< and honourable ; and this — though that of one in our nature, yet — was the example of one infinitely higher and raore honour able than kings or angels, A people are apl to foUow the example of their prince. This is the example of that glorious person, who stands in a peculiar relation to Christians as their Lord and King, the suprerae head of the church; and not only so, but the King of kings, supreme head of the universe, and head over all things to the church. Children are apt to follow the example of their parents ; this is the example of the author of otn being, and of our holy and happy being ; the Creator of the world and everlasting Father of the uni verse. Men are very apt to follow the example of their friends : The example of Christ is that of one who is infinitely our greatest friend, standing in the raost endearing relations of brother. Redeemer, spiritual head and husband ; whose grace and love expressed to us, transcends aU other love emd friendship, as much as heaven is higher than the earth. The virtues and acts of his example were exhibited to us in the raost endearing and engaging circumstances that can possibly be conceived of. — His obedience and submission to God, his humility, meekness, patience, charity, self-denial, &;c. being exercised and expressed in a work of infinite grace, love, con descension, and beneficence to us — and had all their highest expressions in his laying down his life, and meekly, patiently, and cheerfully undergoing unutterable suffering for our eternal salvation. Men are peculiarly apt to follow the example of 388 6aieiiNAL sin. ' P- i- Ch, i, those from whora they have great benefits : But it is utterly impossible to conceive of greater benefits, that we could have by the virtues of any person, than we have by the virtuous acts of Christ ; we, who depend upon being thereby saved from eternal destruction, and brought to inconceivablej im mortal glory at God's right hand. Surely if it were not for an extreme corruption of the human heart, such an example would have that strong influence on it, which would as it were swal low up the power of all the evil and hateful examples of a ge neration of vipers, 3. The influence of bad example, without corruption of nature, will not account for children universally committing sin as soon as capable of it ; which I think, is a fact that has been made evident by the scripture. It will not account for it in the children of eminently pious parents ; the first example set in their view being very good ; which was especially the case of many children in Christian families in the apostolic days, when the apostle John supposes that every individual person had sin to repent of, and confers to God. 4, What Dr. T. supposes to have been fact, with respect to a great part of mankind— the state of the heathen world, which he supposes, considered as a collective body, was help less, dead in sin, and unable to recover itself — cannot consis tently be accounted for from the influence of bad example. Not evil example alone, no, nor as united with evil instruction, can be supposed a sufficient reason why every new generation that arose among them, should not be able to emerge from the idolatry and wickedness of their ancestors, in any consistence with his scheme. The ill example of ancestors could have no power to oblige them to sin, any other way than as a strong temptation. But Dr. T. himself says, (p. 72. S.) " To sup pose men's temptations to be superior to their powers, will im peach the goodness and justice of God, who appoints every man's trial." And as to bad instructions, as he supposes that they all, yea every individual person, had light sufficient to know God, and do their whole duty. And if each one could do this for himself, then surely they might all be agreed in it through the power of free-will, as well as the whole world be agreed in corruption by the same power. Evasion IV, Some modern opposers of the doctrine of original sin, thus account for the general prevalence of wick edness, viz, that in the course of nature our senses grow up first, and the aniraal passions get the start of reason. So Dr. Turnbull,* "Sensitive objects first affect us, and inasmuch as reason is a principle which, in the nature of things, must « See Mor. PhU. p. 279, and Chris. PhU. p. 274. Sect. ix. Several Evasions considered. 389 be advanced to strength and vigour by gradual cultivationj and these objects are continually assailing and soliciting Us ; so unless a very happy education prevents, our sensitive appe tites raust have becorae very strong, before reason can have force enough to call thera to an account, and assume authority over them." From hence Dr. Turnbull supposes it comes to pass,* " That though some few may, through the influence of virtuous example, be said to be sanctified frora the womb, so liberal, so generous, so virtuous, so truly noble is their cast of mind ; yet generally speaking, the whole world lieth in such wickedness, that, with respect to the far greater part of man kind, the study of virtue is beginning to reform, and is a severe StrUggleagainstbadhabits early contracted, and deeply rooted ; it is therefore putting off an old invetelate corrupt nature, and put ting on a new form and temper ; it is moulding ourselves anew ; it is being born again, and becoming as children. — And how few are there in the world who escape its poflutions, so as not to be early in that class, or to be among the righteous that need no repentance ?" Dr. Taylor, though not so exphcit, seems to hint at the sarae thing, (p. 192.) " It is by slow degrees that children corae to the use of understanding ; the animal passions being for some years the governing part of their constitution. And therefore, though they may be froward and apt to displease us, yet how far this is sin in them, we are not capable of judging. But it may suffice to say, that it is the will of God that children should have appetites and passions to regulate and restrain, that he hath given parents instructions and commands to discipline and inform their minds, that if parents first learned true wisdora for theraselves, and then endeavoured to bring up their children in the way of virtue, there would be less wickedness in the vvorld." Concerning these things I would observe, that such a scheme is attended with the very same difficulties which they who advance it would avoid by it ; liable to the same objec tions which they make against God's ordering it so, that men should be brought into being with a prevailing propensity to sin. For this scheme supposes, the Author of Nature has so ordered things, that men should come into being as raoral agents, that is, should first have existence in a state and capa city of moral agency, under a prevailing propensity to sin. For that strength which sensitive appetites and animal passions come to by their habitual exercise, before persons come to the exercise of their rational powers, amounts to a strong propen sity to sin, when they first come to the exercise of those ra tional powers, by the supposition : Because this is given as a * Chris. Phil p. 282, 283', 390 ORIGINAL SIN. P. I. Ch, I. reason why the scale is turned for sin, and why, generally speak ing, the whole world lies in wickedness, and the study of virtue is a severe struggle against bad habits early contracted, and deeply rooted. These deeply rooted habits must imply a tend ency to sin ; otherwise they could not account for that which they are brought to account for, naraely, prevailing wickedness in the world : For that cause cannot account for an effect, which is supposed to have no tendency to that effect. And this tendency which is supposed, is altogether equivalent to a natured tendency, being as necessary to the subject. For it is supposed to be brought on the person who is the subject of it, when he has no power to oppose it; the habit, as Dr Turn- bull says, becoming very strong, before reason can have force enough to call the passions to account, or assume authority over them. And it is supposed, that this necessity, by which men become subject to this propensity to sin, is from the order ing and disposal of the Author of Nature ; and therefore must be as rauch from his hand, and as much without the hand of the person himself, as if he were first brought into being with such a propensity. Moreover, it is supposed that the effect is truly wickedness. For it is alledged as a cause why the whole world lies in wickedness, and why all but a very few are first in the class of the wicked, and not among the righteous that need no repentance. If they need repentance, what they are guilty of is truly and properly wickedness, or moral evil ; for certain ly men need no repentance for that which is no sin, or blaraea- ble evil. If, as a consequence of this propensity, the world lies in wickedness and the far greater part are of a wicked character, without doubt the far greater part go to eternal perdition ; For death does not pick and choose, only for men ofa righteous character. And certainly that is an evil, corrupt state of things, which naturally tends to, and issues in this consO' quence, that as it were the whole world lies and lives in wicked ness, dies in wickedness, and perishes eternally. And this, by the supposition, is a state of things wholly ordered by the Author of Nature, before mankind are capable of having any hand in the affair. And is this any relief to the difficulties which these writers object against the doctrine of natural de pravity ? And I might here also observe, that this way of account ing for the wickedness of the world amounts to just the sarae thing with that solution of raan's depravity, raentioned before, against which Dr. T. cries out, as too gross to be admitted, (p. 188, 189.) viz. God creating the soul pure, and putting it into such a body as naturally tends to pollute it. For this scheme supposes, that God creates the soul pure, and puts it into a body, and into such a slate in that body, that the natural Sect, ix. Several Evasions considered. ' 391 consequence is a strong propensity to sin, as soon as the soul is capable of sinning. Dr. Turnbull seems to suppose, that the matter could not have been ordered otherwise, consistent with the nature of things, than that animal passions should be so aforehand with reason, as that the consequence should be that which has l^een mentioned ; because reason is a faculty of such a nature, that it can have strength and vigour no otherwise than by ex ercise and culture,* But can there be any force in this ? Is there any thing, in nature to make it impossible, but that the superior principles of man's nature should be so proportioned to the inferior, as to prevent such a dreadful consequence as the moral and natural ruin, and eternal perdition of the far greater part of raankind ? Could not those superior principles be in much greater strength at first, and yet be capable of endless improvement ? And what should hinder its being so ordered by the Creator, that they should iraprove by vastly swifter degrees than they do ? If we are christians, we must be forced to allow it to he possible in the nature of things, that the principles of human nature should be so balanced, that the consequence should be no propensity to sin, in the very beginning of a capacity for moral agency ; because we must own, that it was so in fact in Adam, when first created, and also in the man Christ Jesus ; though the faculties of the latter were such as grew by culture and improvement, so that he in creased in wisdom as he grew in stafure. Evasion V. Seeing men in this world are in a state of trial, it is fit that their virtue should meet with trials, and con sequently that it should have opposition and temptation to overcome ; not only from without, but from within, in the animal passions and appetites ; that by the conflict and victory our virtue may be refined and established.t Agreeably to this Dr. T. (p. 253.) says, " Without a right use and applica tion of our powers, were they naturally ever so perfect, we could not be judged fit to enter into the kingdom of God. — This gives a good reason why we are now in a state of trial and temptation, viz. to prove and discipline our minds, to season our virtue, and to fit us for the kingdom of God ; for which, in the judgment of infinite wisdom, we cannot be qua lified but by overcoming our present temptations," And, (p, 78, S,) " We are.upon trial, and it is the will of our Father that our constitution should be attended with various passions and appetites, as well as our outward condition with various temptations." He says the like in several other places. To the sarae purpose very often Dr, Turnbull, particularly Chris. Phil. p. 310. " What raerit (says he) except from combat ? ¦^ Mor. Phil. p. 311. t Belsham. 392 osiGiNAL feiN. P. I. Ch. r. What virtue without the encounter of such eneraies, such temptations as arise both frora within and frora abroad ? To be virtuous, is to prefer the pleasures of virtue to those which come into competition with it, and vice holds forth to tempt us ; and to dare to adhere to truth and goodness, whatever pains and hardships it raay cost. There must therefore, in order to the formation and trial, in order to the very being pf virtue, be pleasures of a certain kind to make temptations to vice," In reply to these things I would say, either the state of temptation, which is supposed to be ordered for men's trial, amounts on the whole to a prevailing tendency to that state of general wickedness and ruin which has been proved to take place, or it does not. If it does not amount to a tendency to such an effect, then how does it account for it ? When it is inquired by what cause such an effect should come to pass, is it not absurd to allege aeause which is owned at the same time to have no tendency to such an effect ? Which is as much as to confess, that it will not account for it, I think it has been demonstrated, that this effect must be owing to some prevail ing tendency, — But if the other part of the dilemma be taken, and it be said, that this state of things does imply a prevailing tendency to that effect which has been proved, viz. that all mankind, without one exception, sin against God, to their own deserved eternal ruin — and not only'so, but sin thus immedi ately, as soon as capable of it, and continually, have raore sin than virtue, and have guilt that infinitely outweighs the value of all the goodness any ever have, and that the generality of the world in all ages are extremely stupid and foolish, of a wicked character, and actually perish for ever — then I say, if the state of teraptation implies a natural tendency to such an effect as this, it is a very evil, corrupt, and dreadful state of things, as has been already largely shewn. Besides, such a state has a tendency to defeat its own supposed end, which is to refine, ripen, and perfect virtue, and so to fit men for the greater eternal happiness and glory : Whereas, the effect it tends to is the reverse of this, viz. gene ral, eternal infamy and ruin, in all generations. It is supposed, that men's virtue must have passions and appetites to struggle with, in order to have the glory and reward of victory : but the consequence is, a prevailing, continual, and generally effectual tendency— not to men's victory over evil appetites and passions, and the glorious reward of that victory, but — to the victory of evil appetites and lusts over men, utterly and eternally destroying them. If a trial of virtue be requisite, yet the question is. Whence coraes so general a failing in the trial, if there be no depravity of nature ? If conflict and war be necessary, whence the necessity that there should be more Chap, ii. Several Evasions considered. 393 cowards than good soldiers ? and whence is it necessary that the whole world as it were should lie in wickedness, and die in cowardice ? 1 raight also here observe, that Dr. Turnbull is not very consistent in supposing that combat with temptation is re quisite to the very being of virtue. For I think it clearly followe from his own notion of virtue, that it must have a being prior to any virtuous or praiseworthy combat with temptation. For by his principles, all virtue lies in good affection, and no actions can be virtuous but what proceed from good affection,* Therefore, surely the combat itself can have no virtue in it, unless it proceeds from virtuous affection : And therefore virtue must have an existence before .the combat, and be the cause of it. CHAP, II. Universal Mortality proves Original Sin; particularly the Death of Infants, with its various Circumstances, The universal reign of death over persons of all ages indis criminately, with the awful circurastances and attendants of death, prove that raen come sinful into the world. — It is need less here particularly to inquire. Whether God has not a sove reign right to set bounds to the lives of his own creatures, be they sinful or not ; and as he gives life, so to take it away when he pleases ? Or how far God has a right to bring extrerae suffering and calamity on any innocent moral agent? For death, with the pains and agonies with which it is usually brought on, is not merely a limiting of existence, but is a most terrible calamity : and to such a creature as man — capable of conceiving of immortality, made with an earnest desire after it, capable of foresight and reflection on approaching death, and having an extreme dread of it — is a calamity above all others terrible, I say, it is needless elaborately to consider, whether God may not, consistent with his perfections^by absolute sover eignty, bring so great a calamity on mankind when perfectly innocent. It is sufficient, if we have good evidence from scrip ture, that it is not agreeable to God's manner of dealing with mankind so to do. It is manifest, that mankind were not originally subject ed to this calaraity : God brought it on them afterwards, on occasion of man's sin, when manifesting his great displeasure, and by a sentence pronounced by him as a judge ; which Dr. T. often confesses. Sin entered into the worid, as the apostle * CAm. PH. p. lis, 114, ll.";. VOL. II. 50 394 OKIGISAL SIN, P. I- says, and death by sin. Which certamly leads us fo suppose, that this affair was ordered, not merely by the sovereignty of a creator, but by the righteousness of a judge. And the scripture every where speaks of all great afflictions and calaraities which God in his providence brings on mankind, as testimonies ofhis displeasure for sin, in the subjects of those calamities ; except ing those sufferings which are to atone for the sins of others. He ever taught his people to look on such calamities as his rod, the rod ofhis anger, his frowns, the hidings ofhis face in dis pleasure. Hence such calamities are in scripture so often call ed by the name oi judgments, being what God brings on men as a judge, executing a righteous sentence for transgression. Yea, they are often called by the name of wrath, especially calamities consisting or issuing in death.* And hence also is that which Dr. T. would have us take so much notice of, that sometimes, in the scripture, calamity and suffering is called by such names as sin, iniquity, being guilty, &c, which is evident ly by a metonyray of the cause for the effect. It is not likely that, in the language used of old among God's people, calarai ty or suffering woiild have beeri called by the names of sin and guilt, if it had been so far from having any connection with sin, that even death itself, which is always spoken of as the most terrible of calaraities, is not so rauch as any sign of the sinful ness of the subject, or any testimony of God's displeasure for his guilt, as Dr. T, supposes. Death is spoken of in scripture as the chief of calamities, the most extreme and terrible of all natural evils in this world. Deadly destruction is spoken of as the most terrible destruc tion. (1 Sam. V. II.) Deadly sorrow, as the most extreme sorrow, (Isai, xvii, 11, Matt, xxvi. 38.) And deadly enemies, as the most bitter and terrible enemies, (Psal, xvii, 9,) The extremity of Christ's sufferings is represented by his suffering unto death. (Phil, ii. 8, and other places,) Hence the great est testimonies of God's anger for the sins of men in this world, have been by inflicting death ; as on the sinners of the old world ; on the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah ; on Onan, Pharaoh, and the Egyptians; on Nadab and Abihu, Corah and his corapany, and the rest of the rebels in the wilderness ; on the wicked inhabitants of Canaan ; on Hophni and Phine- has, Ananias and Sapphira, and the unbelieving Jews, upon whora wrath carae to the uttermost, in the time of the last de struction of Jerusalem. This calamity is often spoken of as in a peculiar manner the fruit of guilt, Exod. xxviii. 43, That they bear not iniquity and die, Levit, xxii, 9, Lest they bear * See Levit. x. 6. Numh. i. 53. and xviii. 5. Josh. ix. 20. 2 Chron. xxiv. 18. and xix. 2, 10. and xxviii. 13. and xxxii. 25. Ezra vii. 23. Neh. xiii. 18. Zech. vu. 12. and many other places. Chap, h. Argument from universal Mortality. 39S sin for it and die, (So Num. xviii. 22. compared with Levit. X, 1, 2,) The very light of nature, or tradition from ancient^ revelation, led the heathen to conceive of death as in a pe culiar manner an evidence of divine vengeance. Thus we have an account, (Acts xxviii. 4.) That when the barbarians saw the venemous beast hang on Paul's hand, they said among themselves, no doubt this man is a murderer, whom though he hath escaped the seas, yet vengeance sufFereth not to LIVE. Calaraities very small in comparison of the universal temporal destruction of mankind by death, are spoken of as manifest indications of God's great displeasure for the sinful ness of the subject ; such as the destruction of particular cities, countries, or numbers of men, by war or pestilence, Deut, xxix, 24, All nations sliall say. Wherefore hath the Lord done. thus unto this lands' what meaneth the heat of this great anger ? (Compare Deut xxxii, 30. 1 Kings ix. 8. and Jer, xxii, 8, 9,) These calamities, thus spoken of as plain testimo nies of God's great anger, consisted only in hastening on that death, which otherwise, by God's disposal, would most cer tainly have come in a short tirae. Now to take off thirty or forty years frora seventy or eighty, (supposing it tobe so much, one with another, in the time of these extraordinary judgments) is but a small matter, in comparison of God first making man mortal, cutting off his hope of immortality, subjecting him to inevitable death, which his nature so exceedingly dreads ; and afterwards shortening his life further, by cutting off more than eight hundred years of it: so bringing it to be less than a twelfth part of what it was in the first ages of the world. Be sides that innumerable multitudes in the common course of things, without any extraordinary judgment, die in youth, in childhood, and infancy. Therefore how inconsiderable a thing is the additional or hastened destruction, that is some times brought on a particular city or country by war, com pared with that universal havock which death makes of the whole human race, from generation to generation, without distinction of sex, age, quality, or condition ; with all the in finitely various dismal circumstances, torments, and agonies, which attend the death of old and young, adult persons and little infants ? If those particular and comparatively trivial ca lamities, extending perhaps not to more than the thousandth part of one generation, are clear evidences of God's great anger; certainly this universal destruction — by which the whole world, in all generations, is swallowed up as by a flood that nothing can resist — must be a most glaring raani festation of God's anger for the sinfulness of mankind. Yea, the scripture is express, that it is so: (Psal. xc. 3, &c.) "Thou turnest man to destruction, and sayest, return, ye 396 ORIGIJSTAt SIN. P. i. children of men, — Thou carriest them away as with a flood : ^^hey are as a sleep: In the raorning they are like grass, which groweth up : in the morning it flourisheth and groweth up ; in the evening it is cut down and withereth. For we are con sumed by thine anger, and by thy wrath are we troubled. Thou hast set our iniquities before thee, our secret sins in the light of thy countenance. For all our days are passed away in thy wrath : We spend our years as a tale that is told. The days of our years are threescore years and ten : And if by rea son of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow, for it is soon cut off, and we fly away. Who knoweth the power of thine anger ? According to thy fear, so is thy wrath. So teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts .unto wisdom." How plain and full is this testimony, that the general mortality of raankind is an evidence of God's anger for the sin of those who are the sub jects of such a dispensation? Abimelech speaks of it as what he had reason to conclude frora God's nature and perfection, that he would not slay a righteous nation. Gen. xx. 4. By righteous evidently raeaning innocent. And if so, much less will God slay a righteous world- — consisting of so raany nations, repeating the great slaughter in every generation — or subject the whole world of mankind to death, when they are considered as innocent, as Dr. T. sup poses. We have from time to time in scripture such phrases as — worthy of death, and guilty of death : But certainly the righteous Judge of all the earth will not bring death ori thou sands of raillions, not only that are not worthy of death, but are worthy of no punishment at all. Dr. T, from time to time speaks of affliction and death as a great beneflt, as they increase the vanity of all earthly things, and tend to excite sober reflections, and to induce us to be moderate in gratifying the appetites of the bo'dy, and to mortify pride and ambition, &c,* To this I would say, I, It is not denied but God may. see it needfiil for man kind in their present state, that they should be mortal, and subject to outward afflictions, to restrain their lusts, mortify their pride, &c. But then is it not an evidence of man's depravity, that it is so ? Is it not an evidence of distemper of mind, yea, strong disease, when man stands in need of such sharp medicines, such severe and terrible means to restrain his lusts, keep down his pride, and to make him willing and obedient to God ? It raust be owing to a corrupt and ungrate ful heart, if the riches of divine bounty in bestowing life and prosperity, things comfortable and pleasant, will not engage the heart to God and virtue, love and obedience. Whereas * p. 21,67, and other places, Chap. 11. Argument from universal Mortality. 397 he must always have the rod held over liim," be often chastised, and held under the apprehensions of death, to keep him from running wild in pride, conterapt and rebellion; ungratefully using the blessings dealt forth from God's hand, in sinning against him, and serving his enemies. If man has no natural disingenuity of heart, it must be a mysterious thing indeed, that the sweet blessings of God's bounty have not as powerful an influence to restrain him from sinning against God, as terrible afflictions If any thing can be a proof of a perverse and vile disposition, this must be aproof of it, that men should be most apt to forget and despise God, when his providence is most kind ; and that they should need to have God chastis ing them with great severity, and even killing them, to keep them in order. If we were as much disposed to gratitude to God for his benefits, as we are to anger at our fellow-creatures for injuries, as we raust be (so far as I can see) if we are not of a depraved heart; then the sweetness of divine bounty, and the height of every enjoyment pleasing to innocent human nature, would be as powerful incentives to a proper regard for God — tending as much to promote religion and virtue — as to have the vvorld filled with calamities, and to have God (to use the language of Hezekiah, Isaiah xxxviii, 13, describing death and its agonies) as a lion, breaking all our bones, and from day even to night, making an end of us. Dr, T. himself, (p. 252.) says, " That our first parents be fore the fall were placed in a condition proper to engage their gratitude, love, and obedience." Which is as much as to say, a condition proper to engage them to the exercise and prac tice of all religion. And if the paradisaical state was proper to engage to all religion and duty, and men still come into the world with hearts as good as the two first of the species, why is it not proper to engage them to it still ? What need of so vastly changing man's state, depriving him of all those bless ings, and instead of thera allotting to him a world full of briers and thorns, affliction, calamity, and death, to engage him to it ? The taking away of life, and all those pleasant enjoyments man had at first, by a permanent constitution, would be no stated benefit to raankind, unless there was in them a stated disposition to abuse such blessings. The taking of them away is supposed to be a benefit, under the notion of their tending to lead men to sin : But they would have no such t< ndency, at least in a stated manner, unless there was in men a flxed ten dency to make that unreasonable misimprovement of them. Such a temper of mind as amounts to a disposition to make such a misimproveraent of blessings, is often spoken of in scripture, as raost astonishingly vile and perverse. So con cerning Israel abusing the blessings of Canaan, that land flow ing with railk and honey ; their ingratitude in it is spoken of 398 - ¦' original sin. P. i. by the prophets, as enough to astonish all heaven and earth, and as more than brutish stupidity and vileness. Jer, ii, 7, I brought them into a plentiful country, to eat the fruit thereof, and the goodness thereof. But when ye entered, ye defied my land, ^c. See the following verses, especially verse 12, Be astonished, O ye heavens, at this. So Isai, i, 2 — 4, Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth ; I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against me. The ox knoweth his owner, and, ihe ass his master's crib ; but my people doth not know, Israel doth not consider. Ah, sinful nation! a people laden with iniquity, a seed of evil-doers, children that are corrup ters: (Conipare Deut, xxxii, 6 — 19.) If to be disposed thus to abuse the blessings of so fruitful and pleasant a land as Canaan, showed so great depravity, surely it would be an evi dence of a corruption no less astonishing, to be inclined to abuse the blessings of Eden, and the garden of God. 2. If death be brought on mankind only as a benefit, and in that raanner which Dr, T, mentions, — to mortify Or raode rate their carnal appetites and affections, wean thera frora the world, excite them to sober reflections, and lead them to the fear and obedience of God, &c. — is it not strange that it should fall so heavily on infants, who are not capable of making any such improvement ofit ; so that many raore of mankind suffer death in infancy, than in any other equal part of the age of man ? Our author sometimes hints, that the death of infants may be for the correction and punishment of parents. But hath God any need of such methods to add to parents' afflic tions ? Are there not other ways for increasing their trouble, without destroying the lives of such multitudes of those who are perfectly innocent, and who, on the supposition, have in no respect any sin belonging to them ? On whora death comes at an age, when not only the subjects are not capable of re flection, or riiaking any iraprovement of it, either in suffering, or the expectation of it : but also at an age, when parents and friends — who alone can improve, and whom Dr, T. sup poses alone to be punished by it — suffer least by being be reaved of thera ; though the infants theraselves soraetimes suffer to great extremity ? , 3. To suppose, as Dr, T, does, that death is brought on mankind in consequence of Adam's sin, not at all as a calamity, but only as a favour and benefit, is contrary to the gospel ; which teaches, that when Christ, as the second Adam, comes to remove and destroy that death which came by the first Adam, he finds it not as a friend, but an enemy, 1 Cor, xv, 22. For as in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive; (with ver. 25, and 26.) For he must reign, till he hath put all enemies under his feet. The last EN EM Y that shall be destroy ed, is DEATH. Chap, II, Argument from universal Mortality. 399 Dr, T, urges, that the afflictions to which mankind are subjected, and particularly their common mortality, are repre sented in scripture as the chastisements of our heavenly Father ; and therefore are designed for our spiritual good, and conse quently are not of the nature of punishments. (So in p. 68, 69, 38, 39, S.) Though I think the thing asserted far from being true, viz, that the scripture represents the afflictions of mankind in general, and particularly their common mortality, as the chas tisement of an heavenly Father ; yet it is needless to stand to dispute that matter. For if it be so, it will be no argument that the afflictions and death of mankind are not evidences of their sinfulness. Those would be strange chastisements from the hand of a wise and good Father, which are wholly for no thing ; especially sucb severe chastisements, as to break the child's bones, when at the same time the father does not sup pose any guilt, fault, or offence, in any respect, belonging to the child ; but it is chastised in this terrible manner only for fear that it will be faulty hereafter. I say, these would be a strange sort of chastisements ; yea, though he should be able to make it up to the child afterwards. Dr. T. speaks of repre sentations made by the whole current of scripture ; I am cer tain it is not agreeable to the current of scripture to represent divine fatherly chastisements after this manner. It is true, the scripture supposes such chastenings to be the fruit of God's goodness ; yet at the same time it evermore represents them as being for the sin oi the subject, and as evidences ofthe divine displeasure for. its sinfulness. Thus the apostle (1 Cor. xi. 30 — 32.) speaks of God's chastening his people by mortal sick ness, for their good, that they might not be condemned with the world, and yet signifies that it was for their sin ; for this cause many are weak and sickly among you, and many sleep : that is, for the profaneness and sinfiil disorder before mentioned. So Elihu, (Job xxxiii. 10, &c.) speaks of the same chastening by sickness, as for men's good ; to withdraw man from his sinful purpose, and to hide pride from man, and keep back his soul from the pit ; that therefore God chastens man with pain on his bed, and the multitude of his bones with strong pain. But these chastenings are for his sins, as appears by what follows ; (ver, 28.) Where it is observed, that when God by this means has brought men to repent, and humbly confess their sins, he de livers them. Again, the same Elihu, speaking of the unfailing love of God to the righteous, even when he chastens them, and tliey are bound in fetters andholdenin cords of affliction, (Chap. xxxvi. 7, &c.) yet speaksof these chastenings as being for their SINS, (ver, 9,) Then he sheweth them their work, and their transgressions that they have exceeded. So David, (Psal. xxx.-—) speaks of God's chastening by some afflictions, as being for his 400 ORIGINAL SIN. P. I. good, and issuing joyfully ; and yet being the fruit of God's anger for his sfti, (ver. 5, j God's ANGER endureth but for a moment, &c, (compare Psal. cxix, 67, 71, 75.) God's fa therly chastisements are spoken of as being for sin, (2 Sam. vii, 14, 15.) / will be his father, and he shall be my son. If he commit iniquity, / will chasten him with the rod of men, and icith the stripes of the children of men; but my mercy shall not depart away from him. So the prophet Jeremiah speaks of the great affliction that God's people suffered in the time of the captivity, as being i for their good. (Lam. iii. 25, &c,) But yet these chastisements are spoken of as being for theii' SIN, (see especially ver, 39, 40,) So Christ says. Rev, iii, 19, As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten. But the words fol lowing shew, that these chastenings frora love are for sin that should be repented of: Be zealous therefore, and repent. And though Christ tells us they are blessed that are persecuted for righteousness' sake, and have reason to rejoice and be ex ceeding glad ; yet even the persecutions of God's people, as ordered in divine Providence, are spoken bf as divine chas tenings for sin, like the just corrections of a father when the children deserve them, Heb, xii. The apostle there speaking to the Christians concerning the persecutions which they suf^ fered, calls their sufferings by the name of divine rebukes ; which implies testifying against a fault : And that they may not be discouraged, puts them in mind, that whom the Lord loves he chastens, and scourgeth every son that he receiveth. It is also very plain, that the persecutions of God's people, as they are from the disposing hand of God, are chastisements for SIN.* If divine chastisements in general are certain evidences that the subjects are not wholly without sin some way belonging to them, then in a peculiar manner is death so ; for these rea sons : (I.) Because slaying, or delivering to death, is often spo ken of as, in general, a more awful thing than the chastise ments which are endured in this life. Thus, Psal. cxviii. 17, 18. / shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord. The Lord hath chastened me sore; but he hath not given me over unto death. So the Psalmist, (Psal. Ixxxviii, 15.) setting forth the extremity of his affliction, represents it as what was next to death, / am aflHicted, and ready to die — while I suffer thy terrors, 1 am distracted. (See 1 Sara, xx, 3,) And so God's tenderness towards persons under chastisement, is, from time to time, set forth, that he did not proceed so far as to make * See 1 Pet. iv. 17, 18, compared with Prov. ix. 31. See also Psal. Ixix. 4 — 9. UBAP, n. Argument from Umversal Mortality, 401 an end of them by death.* God's people often pray, when under great affliction, that God would not proceed to this as the greatest extremity, Psal, xiii, 3, Consider, and hear me, O Lord, my God ; lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep the sleep ofdeatht Especially may death be looked upon as the most extreme of all temporal sufferings, when attended with such dreadful circumstances and extreme pains, as those with which provi dence sometimes brings it on infants ; as on the children that were offered up to Moloch and some other idols, who were tormented to death in burning brass. Dr. T. says, (p. 83, 128. S.) " The Lord of all Being can never want time, and place, and power, to compensate abundantly any sufferings in fants now undergo in subserviency to his good providence," But there are no bounds to such a licence, in evading evidences from fact. It might as well be said, that there is not and can not be any such thing as evidence, frora events of God's displea sure ; which is most contrary to the whole current of scripture, as may appear in part from what has been observed. This gentleraan raight as well go further still, and say, that God may cast guiltless persons into hell-fire, to remain there in the most unutterable torraents for ages of ages, (which bear no greater proportion to eternity than a quarter of an hour) and if he does so, it is no evidence of God's displeasure ; because he can never want tirae, place, and power, abundantly to corapen- sate their sufferings afterwards. If it be so, it is not to the purpose, as long as the scripture so abundantly teaches us to look on great calaraities and sufferings which God brings on men, especially death, as raarks of his displeasure for sin, and for sin belonging to them who suffer. (2.) Another thing — which may well lead us to suppose death, in a peculiar raanner, above other temporal sufferings, to be intended as a testimony of God's displeasure for sin — is that death is attended with that awful appearance, that gloomy and terrible aspect, which naturally suggests to our minds God's awful displeasure. Of this Dr, T, himself takes parti cular notice, when (p, 69,) speaking of death ; " Herein (says he) have we before our eyes a striking demonstration, that sin is infinitely hateful to God, and the corruption and ruin of our nature. Nothing is more proper than such a sight to give us the utmost abhorrence of all iniquity, &c," Now, if death be no testimony of God's displeasure for sin — no evidence that the subject is looked upon by him who inflicts it, as any other than perfectly innocent, free from all imputation of guilt, and * As in Psal. Ixxviii. 38, 39, Psal. ciii. 9, with ver. 14, 15, Psal. xx.^. 2,3, 9, and Job xxxiii. 22 — ^24. fSo Job x. 9. Psal. vi 1 — 5. Ixxxviii. 9, 10, 11. and cxliii. 7, VOL. IL 51 402 ORIGINAL SIN. r. I. treated only as an object of favour — is it not strange, that Qod should annex to it such affecting appearances ofhis hatred and anger for sin, more than to other chastisements ? Which yet the scripture teaches us are always for sin. These gloomy and striking manifestations of Ged's hatred of sin attending death, are equivalent to the awful frowns of God attending the stroke ofhis hand. If we should see a wise and just father chastising his child, mixing terrible frowns with severe strokes, we should justly argue, that the father considered his child as having in him something displeasing, and that he did not thus treat his child only under a notion oi mortifying him, and preventing his being faulty hereafter, and making it up to him afterwards, when he had been perfectly innocent, and without fault, either of ac tion or disposition. We raay well argue from these things, that infants are not sinless, but are by nature children of wrath, seeing this terri ble evil comes so heavily on mankind at this early period. But, besides the raortality of infants in general, there are some particular cases of their death attended with circum stances, which, in a peculiar manner, give evidence of their sinfulness, and of their just exposedness to divine wrath. Particularly, The destroying of the infants in Sodom and the neighbour ing cities, raay be pleaded in evidence ; for these cities, de stroyed in so miraculoiis and awful a manner, are set forth ^s a signal example of God's dreadful vengeance for sin. {Jude, ver. 7.) God did not reprove, but manifestly counte nanced Abraham, when he said with respect to the destruction of Sodom, (Gen. xviii. 23,25.) Wilt thou destroy the righteous with the wicked.'' — That be far from thee to do after this man ner, to slay the righteous with the wicked, andthat the righteous should be as the wicked, that be far from thee. Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right ? Abraham's words imply that God would not destroy the innocent with the guilty. "We may well understand innocent as included in the word righteous, according to the language usual in scripture, in speaking of such cases of judgment and punishment.* Eliphaz says. Job iv. 7. Who ever perished, being innocent ? or where were the RIGHTEOUS cut off? We see what great care God took that Xioi should not be involved in that destruction. He was mira culously rescued by angels, sent on purpose ; who laid hold on hira, brought hira, set hira without the gates of the city, and told hira that they could do nothing till he was out of the way. {Gen. xix. 22.) And not only was he thus miraculously delivered, but his two wicked daughters for his sake. The *Gen. II. 4. Exod. xxiii, 7. Deut, xxv. 1. 2 Sam. iv. 11. 2 Chron. vi. 93. and Prov. xviii. 5. Chap, ii. Argument from universal Mortality. 403 whole affair, both the destruction and the rescue, was rairacu lous; and God could as easily have delivered the infants which were in those cities. And if they had been without sin, their* perfect innocency, one should think, would have pleaded much more strongly for them, than those lewd wo men's relation to Lot pleaded for them. When in such a case, we must suppose these infants much further from deserving to be involved in that destruction, than even Lot himself To say, that God could make it up to those infants in another world, must be an insufficient reply. ; For so he.could as 'easily have made it up to Lot, or to ten or flfty righteous, if they had been destroyed in the same fire. Nevertheless, it is plainly signified, that this would not have been agreeable to the wise and holy proceedings of the Judge of all the earth. Since God declared, that if there had been found but ten righteous in Sodom, he would have spared the whole city for their sakes, may we not well suppose, if infants are perfectly innocent, that he would have spared the old world, in which there were, without doubt, raany hundred thousand infants, and in general, one in every family, whose perfect innocence pleaded for its preservation ? Especially when such vast ca.re was taken to save Noah and his family, (some of whom, one at least, seem to have been none of the best) that they might not be involved in that destruction. If the perfect sinlessness of infants had been a notion entertained among the people of God in the ages next following the flood — handed down frora Noah and his children, who well knew that vast multitudes of infants perished in the flood— is it likely that Eliphaz, who lived within a few generations of Shem and Noah, would have said to Job, (Job iv. 7.) Who ever perished, being innocent? and when were the righteous cut off? Especially, since in the same discourse (chap. v. 1.) he appeals to the tradition of the ancients for a confirmation of this very point, (also in chap, XV. 7 — 10 and xxii. 15, 16.) and he mentions the destruction of the wicked by the flood, as an instance of that perishing of the wicked which he supposes to be peculiar to them, for Job's conviction ; in which the wicked were cut down out of time-, their foundation being overflown with a flood. Where it is also observable, that he speaks of such an untimeliness of death as they suffered by the flood, as one evidence of guilt ; as he also does, chap. xv. 32, 33, It shall be accomplished bejfore his time ; and his branch shall not be green. But those who were destroyed by the flood iri infancy, above all the rest, were cut down out of time ; when instead of living above nine hun dred years, according to the common period of raan's life at that time, many were cut down before they were one year old. When God executed vengeance on the ancient inhabitants 404 okigikal 5IN, P. I- of Canaan, he not only did not spare their cities and families for the sake of their infants, nor took care that they should not be involved in the destruction ; but he often repeated his express commands, that their infants should not be spared', but should be utteriy destroyed, without any pity ; while Rahab the harlot (who had been far from innocence, thoygh she expressed her faith in entertaining, and safely dismissing the spies) was preserved, and all her friends for her sake. And when God executed his wrath on the Egyptians by slaying their first born — though the children of Israel, who were most of them wicked men, as was before shewn, were wonderfully spared by the destroying angel, yet — the Egyptian infants were not spared. They not only were not rescued by the angel, and no miracle wrought to save them (as was observed in the case of the infants of Sodom) but the angel destroyed them by his own immediate hand, and a rairacle was wrought to kill them. Not to be particular concerning the command by Moses, respecting the destruction of the infants of the Midianites ; (Numb. xxxi. 17.) And that given to Saul to destroy all the in fants of the AmaZetees ; (1 Sam. XV. 3.) and what is said con- * cerning Edom, (Psal. cxxxvii. 9.) Happy shall he be that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones ; 1 proceed to_take notice of something reraarkable concerning the destruction of Jerusalem, represented in Ezek, ix, when coraraand was given to destroy the inhabitants, ver. 1 — 8, And this reason is given for it, that their iniquity required it, and it was a just recom pence oftheir sin, (ver. 9, 10.) God, at the same time was raost particular and exact in his care, that such as had proved by their behaviour, (hat they were not partakers in the aboraina- tions of the city, should by no means be involved in the slaugh ter. Coramand was given to the angel to go through the city, and set a mark upon their foreheads, and the destroying angel had a strict charge not to come near any man on whom was the mark ; yet the infants were not marked, nor a word said of Sparing thera : On the contrary, infants were expressly men tioned as those that should be utterly destroyed, without pity, (ver. 5,6.) Go through the city and smite : Let not your eye spare, neither have ye pity. Slay utterly old and young, both maids and little children ; But come not near any man upon whom is the mark. And if any should suspect that such instances as these were peculiar to a more severe dispensation, under the Old Testa ment, let us consider a reraarkable instance in the days ofthe glorious gospel of the grace of God ; even the last destruction oi Jerusalem. This was far more terrible, and with greater tes timonies of God's wrath and indignation, than the destruction of Sodom, or oi Jerusalem in Nebuchadnezzar's time, or any Chap. n. Argument from universal Morality. 405 thing that ever had happened to any city or people from the begin ning ofthe world to that time. (Agreeable to Matt, xxiv, 21, and Luke xxi, 23, 23,) At that time particular care was taken to distinguish and to deliver God's people ; as foretold Dan. xh, 1, And we have in the New Testament a particular ac count ofthe care Christ took for the preservation ofhis followers : He gave them a sign by which they might know when the de solation of the city was nigh, that they who were in Jerusalem might flee to the mountains and escape. And, as history relates, the Christians followed the directions given, and escaped to a place in the mountains called Pella, and were preserved. Yet no care was taken to preserve the infants ofthe city, in general ; but according to the predictions of that event, they were in volved with others in that great destruction. So heavily did the calamity fall upon them, that those words were verified, Luke xxiii, 29, Behold the days are coming in which they shall say. Blessed are the barren, and the womb that never bare, and the paps which never gave suck : And that prophecy in Deut. xxxii. 21 — ^25. which has undoubtedly a special respect to this very time, and is so applied by the best commentators ;^/tf)iZZ provoke them to jealousy, with those that are not a people : For a flre is kindled in mine anger, — and it shall burn to the lowest hell. I will heap mischiefs upon them : I will spend mine ar rows upon them. They shall be burnt with hunger, and devour ed wjth buming heat, and bitter destruction. The sword with out, and terror within, shall destroy both the young man, and the virgin, the suckling also, with the man of grey hairs. And by the history of that destruction it appears, that then was a re markable fulfilment of Deut. xxviii. 53 — 57. concerning parents eating their children in the siege, — and the tender and delicate woman eating her new-born child. And here it must be remem bered, that these very destructions of that city and land are spoken of as clear evidences of God's wrath, to all nations who shall behold them. And if so, they were evidences of God's wrath towards infants ; who, equally with the rest, were the subject of the destruction. If a particular kind or rank of per sons, which made a very considerable part of the inhabitants, were from time to time partakers of the overthrow, without any distinction made in divine Providence, and yet this was no evi dence at all of God's displeasure with any of them ; then being the subjects of such a calamity could not be an evidence of God's wrath against any of the inhabitants, to the reason of all nations, or any nation, or so much as one person. 406 ORIGINAL SIN. P. JI. Ch. I. PART II. CONTAINING OBSERVATIONS ON PARTICULAR PARTS OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURE, WHICH PROVE THE DOCTRINE OF ORIGI NAL SIN. CHAPTER L Observations relating to Things contained in the three first Chapters of Genesis, with Reference to the Doctrine of Original Sin. SECT. I. Concerning Original Righteousness; and whether our first Parents were created with Righteousness, or moral Recti tude of heart ? The doctrine of Original Righteousness, or the creation of our first parents with holy principles and dispositions, has a close connection, in several respects, with the doctrine of original sin. Dr. T. was sensible of this ; and accordingly he strenuously opposes this doctrine, in his book against original sin. And therefore in handling the subject, I would in the first place, reraove this author's main objection against this doctrine, and then shew how it may be inferred from the account which Moses gives us in the three first chapters of Genesis. '' Dr. T.'s grand objection against this doctrine, which he abundantly insists on, is this : That it is utterly inconsistent with the nature of virtue, that it should be concreated with any person ; because, if so, it must be by an act of God's abso lute power, without our knowledge or concurrence ; and that moral virtue, in its very nature, implieth the choice and consent of the moral agent, without which it cannot be virtue and holi- Sect, i. Concerning Adam's original Righteousness. 407 ness : That a necessary holiness is no holiness. So p. 180, ¦ where he observes, " That Adam must exist, he must be created, yea he raust exercise thought and reflection, before he was righteous," (See also p, 250, 251.) In p, 161, S, he says, " To say that God not only endowed Adam with a capa city of being righteous, but moreover that righteousness and true holiness were created with him, or wrought into his na ture, at the same time he was made, is to affirm a contradic tion, or what is inconsistent with the very nature of righteous ness." And in like manner Dr. Turnbull in many places insists upon it, that it is necessary to the very being of virtue, th at it be owing to our own choice and diligent culture. With respect to this 1 would observe, that it consists in a notion of virtue quite inconsistent with the nature of things, and the common notions of mankind ; and also inconsistent with Dr. T.'s own notions of virtue. Therefore, if to affirm that to be virtue or holiness, which is not the fruit of preceding thought, reflection, and choice, is to affirm a contradiction, I shall shew plainly, that for him to affirm otherwise, is a con tradiction to himself In the first place, I think it a contradiction to the nature of things, as judged of by the common sense of mankind. It is agreeable to the sense of men, in all nations and ages, not only that the fruit or effect of a good choice is virtuous, but that the good choice itself from whence that effect proceeds, is so ; yea, also the antecedent good disposition, temper, or affection of mind, from whence proceeds that good choice, is virtuous. This is the general notion — not that principles derive their goodness frora actions, but — that actions derive their goodness from the principles whence they proceed ; so that the act of choosing what is good is no further virtuous, than it proceeds from a good principle, or virtuous disposition of mind.* Which supposes that a virtuous disposition of mind may be before a virtuous act of choice ; and that, therefore, it is not necessary there should first be thought, reflection, and choice, before there can be any virtuous disposition. If the choice be first, before the existence of a good disposition of heart, what is the character of that choice ? There can ac cording to our natural notions, be no virtue in a choice which proceeds frora no virtuous principle, but from mere self-love, ambition, or some animal appetites ; therefore, a virtuous temper of mind may be before a good act of choice, as a tiee^ may be before the fruit, and the fountain before the stream which proceeds from it. The following things, in Mr, Hutcheson's inquiry con- cerning moral good and evil, are evidently agreeable to the nature of things, and the voice of human sense and reason, rSec II. p. 132, 133.) " Every action which we apprehend 408 original sin, P. "' Ch. i. as either morally good or evil, is always supposed to plow from some affections towards sensitive natures. And whatever we call virtue or vice, is either some such affection, or some ac tion CONSEQUENT UPON IT. — All the actious counted religious in any country, are supposed by those who count them so^ to flow from some affections towards the Deity : And whatever we call social virtue, we still suppose to flow from affections towards our fellow creatures, — Prudence, if itis only eraployed in promoting private interest, is never imagined to be a virtue." In these things Dr. Turnbull expressly agrees with Mr. Hutcheson, his admired author,* If a virtuous disposition or affection is before its acts, then they are before those virtuous acts of choice which pro ceed from it. Therefore there is no necessity that all virtu ous dispositions or affections should be the effect of choice : And so, no such supposed necessity can be a good objection against such a disposition being natural, or from a kind of in stinct, implanted in the mind in its creation. Agreeably to this Mr. Hutcheson says, {Ibid, sect. III. p, 196, 197.) " 1 know not for what reason some will not allow that to be virtue, which flows from instinct or passions. But how do they help themselves ? They say, virtue arises from reason. What is reason, but the sagacity we have in prosecuting any end ? The ultimate end proposed by common moralists, is the hap piness of the agent himself And this certainly he is determi-. ned to pursue from instinct. Now raay not another instinct to- . wards the public, or the good of others, be as proper a princi ple of virtue as the instinct towards private happiness ? If it be said, that actions from instinct are not the effect of prudence and choice, this objection will hold full as strongly against the actions which flow from self-love." And if we consider what Dr, T. declares, as his own no tion of the essence of virtue, and which he so confidently and often affirms, that it should follow choice, and proceed frora it, we shall find it is no less repugnant to that sentiraent, than it is to the nature of things and the general notions of man kind. For it is his notion, as well as Mr. Hutcheson's, that the essence of virtue lies in good affection, and particularly in benevolence or love : As he very fully declares in these words in his Key,t " That the word that signifies goodness and raercy should also signify moral rectitude in general, will not seem strange, if we consider that love is the fulfilling of the law. Goodness, according to the sense of scripture, and the nature of things, includes all morcd rectitude ; which, I reckon, may every part of it, where it is true and genuine, be resolved into * Mor. Phil. p. 118— lis. p. 142. et alibi passim, t Marginal Note annexed )o§36g. r _ e Sect, I. Concerning Adam's original Righteousness. 409 this single principle." If it be so indeed, then certainly no act whatsoever can have moral rectitude, but what proceeds from this principle. And consequently no act of volition or choice can have any moral rectitude, that takes place before this prin ciple exists. And yet he most confidently affirms, that thought, reflection, and choice must go before virtue, and that all virtue or righteousness must be the fruit of preceding choice. This brings his scheme to an evident contradiction. For no act of choice can be virtuous but what proceeds from a principle of benevolence or love ; for he insists that all genuine moral rec titude, in every part of it, is resolved into this single principle. And yet the principle of benevolence itself, cannot be virtuous unless it proceeds from choice ; for he affirms, that nothing can have the nature of virtue but what comes from choice. So that virtuous love, as the principle of all virtue, must go before vir tuous choice, and be the principle or spring of it ; and yet vir tuous choice raust go before virtuous benevolence, and be the spring of that. If a virtuous act of choice goes before a prin ciple of benevolence, and produces it, then this virtuous act is soraething distinct frora that principle which follows it and is its effect. So that here is at least one part of virtue, yea the spring and source of all virtue, viz. a virtuous choice, that can not be resolved into that single principle oilove. Here also it is worthy to be observed, that Dr. T. (p. 128.) says, the cause of every effect is alone chargeable with the effect it produceth or which proceedeth from it : And so he argues, that if the effect be bad, the cause alone is sinful. According to which reasoning, when the effect is good, the cause alone is righteous or virtuous. To the cause is to be ascribed all the praise of the good effect it produc eth. And by the same reasoning it will follow, that if, as Dr, Taylor says, Adara raust choose to be righteous before he was righteous, and if it be essential to the nature of righte ousness or moral rectitude that it be the effect of choice, and hence a principle of benevolence cannot have moral rectitude, unless it proceeds from choice ; then not to the principle of be nevolence, which is the effect, but to the foregoing choice alone is to be ascribed all the virtue or righteousness that is in the case. And so, instead of all raoral rectitude in every part ofit, being resolved into that single principle of benevolence, no moral rectitude, in any part of it, is to be resolved into that principle : But all is to be resolved into the foregoing choice, which is the cause. But yet it follows from these inconsistent principles, that there is no moral rectitude or virtue in that first act pf choice, that is the cause of all consequent virtue. This follows two ways ; 1. Because every part of virtue lies in the benevolent principle, which is the effect; and therefore no part ofit can lie VOL. H. 52 410 ORIGINAL SIN. P. 11, Ch. I. in-the cause, 2. The choice of virtue, as to the first act at least, can have no virtue or righteousness at all ; because it does not proceed from any foregoing choice. For Dr. T. insists, that a man raust first have reflection and choice, before he can have righteousness ; and that it is essential to holiness that it pro ceed from choice. So that the first choice frora which holiness proceeds can have no virtue at all, because, by the supposition, it does not proceed from choice, being the first choice. Hence, if it be essential to holiness that it proceeds from choice, it must proceed from an unholy choice ; unless the first holy choice can be before itself And with respect to Adam, let us consider how, upon Dr. T.'s principles, it was possible he ever should have any such thing as righteousness, by any means at all. In the state where in God created him, he could have no such thing as love to God, or any benevolence in his heart. For if so, there would have been original righteousness ; there would have been ge nuine moral rectitude ; nothing would have been wanting : For. our author says. True genuine moral rectitude, in every part of it, is to be resolved into this single principle. But if he were wholly without any such thing as love to God or any virtuous love, how should he come by virtue ? The answer doubtless will be, by act of choice : He must first choose to be virtuous. But what if he did choose to be virtuous ? It could not be frora love to God, or any virtuous principle, that he chose it ; for, by the supposition, he has no such principle in his heart. And if he chooses it without such a principle, still, according to this author, there is no virtue in his choice ; for all virtue, he says, is to be resolved into that single principle of love. Or will he say, there may be produced in the heart a virtuous benevolence by an act or acts of choice that are not virtuous ? But this does not consist with what he implicitly asserts, that to the cause alone is to be ascribed what is in the effect. So that there is no way that can possibly be devised, in consistence with Dr. T.'s scheme, in which Adam ever could have any righteous ness, or could either obtain any principle of virtue, or perform any one virtuous act. These confused inconsistent assertions concerning virtue and moral rectitude, arise, from the absurd notions in vogue, concerning freedom of will, as if it consisted in the will's self- determining power, supposed to be necessary to moral agency, virtue and vice. The absurdities of which, with the grounds of these errors, and what the truth is respecting these matters, with its evidences, I have, according to my ability, fully and largely considered in my " Inquiry" on that subject; to which I must refer the reader who desires fiirther satisfaction, and is wiUing to give himself the trouble of reading that discourse.* * See the first part of this volume. Sect. I, Concerning Adam's original Righteousness, tU Having considered this great argument and pretended de monstration of Dr. T. against original righteousness ; I proceed to the proofs ofthe doctrine. And, in the first place, I would consider, whether there be not evidence of it in the three first chapters of Genesis : Or whether the history there delivered does not lead us to suppose that onr first parents were created in a state of moral rectitude and holiness. I. This history leads us to suppose that Adam's sin with relation to the forbidden fruit was the flrst sin he committed. Which could not have been, had he not always, till then, been perfectly righteous, righteous from the first moment of his ex istence ; and consequently, created or brought into existence righteous. In a inoral agent, subject to moral obligations, it is the same thing to be perfectly innocent, as to be perfectly righ teous- It must be the same, because there can no more be any medium between sin and righteousness, or between being right and being wrong, in a moral sense, than there can be a medium between straight and crooked, in a natural sense. Adara was brought into existence capable of acting imraediately as a moral agent ; and therefore he was immediately under a rule of right action. He was obliged as soon as he existed to act aright. And if he was obliged to act aright as soon as he existed, he was obliged even then to be inclined to act right. Dr. T. says, (p. 166. S.) "Adam could not sih without a s'minl inclination:*" and just for the sarne reason, he could not do aright without an inclination to right action. And as he was obliged to act rightly from the first moment of his existence, and did so, till he sinned in reference to the forbidden fruit, he must have had a disposition of heart to do rightly the first moment of his exist ence ; and that is the same as to be created or brought into ex istence with an inclination to right action, or, which is the same thing, a virtuous and holy disposition of heart. Here it will be in vain to say, " It is true, that it was Adam's duty to have a good disposition or inclination, as soon as it was possible to be obtained, in the nature of things ; but as it could not be without time to establish such a habit, which requkes antecedent thought, reflection, and repeated right action ; therefore all that Adam could be obliged to, in the first place, was to reflect, and consider things in a right manner, and ap ply himself to right' action, in order to obtain a right disposi tion :" for this supposes, that even the reflection and considera tion to which he was obliged, was right action. Surely he was obliged to it no otherwise than as a thing that was right: And therefore he raust have an inclination to this right action imme- * This is doubtless tme: For although there was no natural sinful inclination in. Adam, yet an inclination to that sin of eating the forbidden fruit, was begotten in him by the delusion and error he was led into ; and this inclination to eat the forbidden fruit, must precede his actual eating. 412 ORIGINAL SIN. P, II. Ch, 1. diately, before he could perform those first right actions. And as the inclination to them should be right, the principle, or dis position from which he perforraed even those actions, raust be good : Otherwise the actions would not be right in the sight of hira who looks at the heart; nor would they answer his obliga tions, if he had done them for some sinister end, and not from a regard to God and his duty. Therefore there must have been a regard to God and his duty implanted in hira at his first ex istence : Otherwise it is certain, he would have done nothing frora a regard to God and his duty ; no, not so rauch as to re flect and consider, and try to obtain such a disposition. The very supposition of a disposition to right action being first ob tained by repeated right action, is grossly inconsistent with itself: For it supposes a course of right action before there is a dis position to perform any right action. These are no invented quibbles or sophisms. If God ex pected from Adam any obedience or duty to hira at all, when he first made hira — whether it was in reflecting, considering, or jany way exerting his faculties — then he was expected imrae diately to exercise love to God. For how could it be expected that Adam should have a strict and perfect regard to God's commands and authority, and his duty to him, when he had no love nor regard to him in his heart, nor could it be expected he should have any ? If Adam from the beginning did his duty to God, and had more respect to the will of his Creator than to other things, and as much respect to him as he ought to have ; then from the beginning he had a supreme and perfect respect and love to God : And if so, he was created with such a principle. There is no avoiding the consequence. Not only external duties, but internal ones, such as sumraarily consist in love, must be immediately required of Adam, as soon as he existed, if any duty at all was required. For it is most appa rently absurd, to talk of a spiritual being, with the faculties of understanding and will, being required to perform external duties, without internal, Dr, T, himself observes, that love is the fulfilling of the law, and that all moral rectitude, even every part of it, must be resolved into that single principle. Therefore, if any morally right act at all, reflection, consideration, or any thing else, was required of Adara immediately on his first ex istence, and was performed as required ; then he must, the first moment of his existence, have his heart possessed of that prin ciple of divine love which implies the whole of moral rectitude in every part ofit, according to our author's own doctrine ; and so the whole of moral rectitude or righteousness must begin with his existence : Which is the thing taught in the doctrine of original righteousness. Let us consider how it could be otherwise than that Adam was always, in every moment of his existence, obliged to ex- Sect, I. Conceming Adam's o-riginal Righteousness. 413 ercise such respect of heart towards every object, as was agree able to the apparent merit of that object. For instance, would it not at any time have become Adam, on the exhibition of God's infinite goodness to him, to have exercised answerable gratitude ; and would not the contrary have been unbecoming and odious ? And if something had been presented to Adam's view transcendently amiable in itself, for instance, the glo rious perfection of the divine nature, would it not have be come hira to love, relish, and delight in it? Would not such an object have merited this ? And if the view of an object so amiable in itself did not affect his mind with complacence, would it not, according to the plain dictates of our understand ing, have shewn an unbecoming temper of mind ? Time, by culture, to form and establish a good disposition, would not have taken off the odiousness of the teraper. And if there had been never so rauch tirae, I do not see how it could be expect ed he should improve it aright in order to obtain a good dispo sition, if he had not already some good disposition to engage him to it. That belonging to the will, and disposition of the heart, which is in itself either odious or amiable, unbecoming or decent, always would have been Adam's virtue or sin, in any moraent of his existence ; if there be any such thing as virtue jr vice ; by which terms nothing can be meant, but something in our moral disposition and behaviour which is becoming or unbecoming, amiable or odious. Human natui:e raust be created with some dispositions ; a disposition to relish some things as good and amiable, and to be averse to other things as odious and disagreeable : Other wise it must be without any such thing as inclination or will ; perfectly indifferent, without preference, without choice, or aversion, towards any thing as agreeable or disagreeable. But if it "had any concreated dispositions at all, they raust be either right or wrong, either agreeable or disagreeable to the nature of things. If man had at first the highest rehsh of things ex cellent and beautiful, a disposition to have the quickest and highest delight in those things which were most worthy of it, then, his dispositions were raorally right and amiable, and never can be excellent in a higher sense. But if he had a disposition to love most those things that were inferior and less worthy, then his dispositions were vicious. And it is evident there can be no mediura between these. II. This notion of Adam being created without a prin ciple of holiness in his heart, taken with the rest of Dr. T.'s scheme, is inconsistent with what the history in the begin ning of Genesis leads us to suppose of the great favours and imiles of heaven, which Adara enjoyed while he remained in nnocency. The Mosaic account suggests to us that till Adam 1:14 ORIGINAL SIN. P. II. Ch. I. sinned he was happy in circumstances, surrounded with tes timonies and fruits of God's favour. This is implicitly owned by Dr. T. when he says, (p. 252.) "That in the dispensation our first parents were under before the fall, they were placed in a condition proper to engage their gratitude, love, and obe dience." But it will follow on our author's principles, that Adam, while in innocency, was placed in far worse circum stances than he was in afler his disobedience, and infinitely worse than his posterity are in ; under unspeakably greater disadvantages for avoiding sin, and the performance of duty. For by this doctrine, Adam's posterity come into the world with their hearts as free from any propensity to sin as he, and he was made as destitute of any propensity to righteousness as they : And yet God, in favour to them, does great things to restrain them from sin and excite thera to virtue, which he never did for Adara in innocency,' but laid him, in the highest degree, under contrary disadvantages. God, as an instance of his great favour and fatherly love to man since the fall, has denied him the ease and pleasures of paradise, which gra tified and allured his senses and bodily appetites ; that he might diminish hi.s temptations to sin. And as a stiff greater means to restrain from sin and promote virtue, has subjected him to labour, toil, and sorrow in the world : And not only so, but as a means to promote his spiritual and eternal good far beyond this, has doomed him to death. When all this was found insufficient, he, in further prosecution of the designs of his love, shortened men's lives exceedingly, made them twelve or thirteen times shorter than in the first ages. And yet this, with all the innumerable calamities which God, in great favour to mankind, has brought on the world — whereby their temptations are so vastly cut short, and the inducements to virtue heaped one upon another to so great a degree — have proved insufficient, now for so many thousand years together, to restrain from wickedness in any considerable degree ;. while innocent human nature, all along, comes into the world with the same purity and harmless dispositions that orir first parents had in paradise. What vast disadvantages indeed then must Adam and Eve be in, who had no more in their nature to keep them from sin, or incline them to virtue, than their posterity, and yet were without all those additional and extraordinary means I They were not only without such exceeding great means as we now have, when our lives are raade so very short, but had vastly less advantages than their antediluvian posterity, who to prevent their being wicked, and to make them good, had so niuch labour and toil, sweat and sorrow, briars and thorns, with a body gradually decaying and returning to the dust. Our first parents had the extreme disadvantage of being placed amongst many and exceeding great temptations — not Sect. i. ¦ Concerning Adam's original Righteousness. 4l5 only without toil or sorrow, pain or disease, to humble and mortify them, and a sentence of death to wean them from the vvorld, but — in the midst ofthe most exquisite and alluring sen sitive delights ; the reverse in every respect, and the highest degree, of that most gracious state of requisite means and great advantages, which mankind now enjoy ! If mankind now under these vast restraints and great advantages, are not re strained from general, and as it were universal wickedness, how could it be expected that Adam and Eve, created with no better hearts than m,en bring into the world now, and destitute of all these advantages, and in the midst of all contrary disad vantages should escape it ? These things are not agreeable to Moses's account. That represents a happy state of peculiar favours and blessings be fore the fall, eind the curse coming afterwards ; but according to this scheme, the curse was before the fall, and the great favours and testimonies of love followed the apostacy. And the curse before the fall must be a. curse with a witness, being to so high a degree the reverse of such means, means so necessary for such a creature as innocent man, and in all their multitude and ful ness proving too little. Paradise therefore must be a mere de lusion I There was indeed a great shew of favour in placing raan in the midst of such delights. But this delightful garden, it seems, with all its beauty and sweetness, was in its real ten dency worse than the apples of Sodbm. It was but a mere bait, (God forbid the blasphemy) the more effectually enticing by its beauty and deliciousness to Adam's eternal ruin. Which might be the more expected to be fatal to him, seeing he was the first man, having no capacity superior to his posterity, and wholly without the advantage oftheir observations, experiences, and improvements, 1 proceed now to take notice of an additional proof of the doctrine we are upon, from another part of the holy scripture. A very clear text for original right oushess, we have in Eccles. vii. 29. Lo, this only have I found, that God made man up right ; but they have sought oui many inventions. it is an observation ofno weight which Dr. T. makes on this text, that the word man is commonly used to signify mankind in general, or mankind collectively taken. It is true it often signifies the species of mankind ; but then it is used to signify the species with regard to its duration and succession irom its beginning, as well as with regard to its extent. The EngHsh word mankind is used to signify the species : But what then ? Would it be an improper way of speaking to say, that when God first made mankind he placed them in a pleasant paradise, (meaning in their first parents) but now they live in the midst of briars and thorns ? And it is certain that to speak thus of God making mankind — his giving the species an existence in their 416 ORIGINAL SIN, P. II. Ch. I. first parents, at the creation — is agreeable to the scripture use of such an expression. As in Deut. iv, 32, Since the day that God CREATED MAN upou the earth. Job xx, 4. Knowest thou not this of old, since man was placed upon the earth. Isai. xiv. 12. I have made the earth and created man upon it : I, even my hands, have stretched out the heavens. Jer. xxvii. 5. /have MADE the earth, the man and the beast that are upon the ground, by my great power. All these texts speak of God making man, signifying the species of mankind ; and yet they all plainly have respect to God making man at first, when he made the earth and stretched out the heavens. In all these places the same word, Adam, is used as in Ecclesiastes ; and in the last of them, used with (he emphaticum) the emphatic sign, as here ; though Dr. T, omits it, when he tells us he gives us a catalogue of all the places in scripture where the word is used. And it argues nothing to the doctor's purpose that the pronoun they is used ; — they have sought out many inventions. This is properly ap phed to the species, which God made at first upright ; the species begun with more than one, and continued in a multitude. As Christ speaks of the two sexes, in the relation of man and wife, continued in successive generations ; Mat, xix, 4, He that MADE them in the beginning, made them male and female; hav ing reference to Adam and Eve, No less impertinent, and also very unfair, is his criticism on the word (tif i) translated upright. Because the word sorae tiraes signifies right, he would frora thence infer, that it does not properly signify moral rectitude, even when used to express the character of moral agents. He might as well insist that the English word upright, sometimes, and in its raost original raeaning, signifies right up, or in an erect posture, therefore it does not properly signify any moral character, when applied to moral agents. And indeed less unreasonably ; for it is known that in the Hebrew language, in a peculiar manner, most words used to signify raoral and spiritual things, are taken frora ex ternal and natural objects. The word {-wi Jashar) is used, as apphed to moral agents, or to the words and actionsof such, (if I have not mis-reckoned*) about an hundred and ten times in scripture ; and about an hundred of thera, without all dispute, to signify virtue, or raoral rectitude, (though Dr, T. is pleased to say, the word does not generally signify a raoral character) and for the most part it signifies true virtue, or virtue in such a sense, as distinguishes it frora afl false appearances of virtue, or what is only virtue in some respects, but not truly so in the sight of God, It is used at least eighty times in this sense : And scarce any word can be found in the Hebrew language raore significant of this. It is thus used constantly in Solomon's * Mak'm^ use of B-uxtorfs Concordance, which, according to the author'* professed design, directs to all the places where the word is used. Sect, i. Concerning Adam's original Righteousness. 417 writings, (where it is often found) when used to express a cha racter or property of moral agents. And it is beyond all con troversy, that he uses it in this place, (the viith of Eccles.) to signify moral rectitude, or a character of real virtue and inte grity. For the wise man is speaking of persons with respect to their moral character, inquiring into the corruption and depra vity of raankind, (as is confessed p. 184.) and he here declares, he had not found more than one among a thousand of the right stamp, truly and. thoroughly virtuous and upright : Which ap peared a strange thing I But in this text he clears God, and lays the blame on man : Man was not made thus at first. He was made of the right stamp, altogether good in his kind, (as all other things were) truly and thoroughly virtuous as he ought to be ; but they fiave sought out many inventions. Which last expression signifies things sinful, or morally evil ; fas is confess ed, p. 185.) And this expression, used to signify those moral evils he found in man, which he sets in opposition to the up rightness man was made in, shews, that by uprightness he raeans the raost true and sincere goodness. The word rendered inven tions, raost naturally and aptly signifies the subtile devices and crooked deceitful ways of hypocrites, wherein they are of a character contrary to men of simplicity and godly sincerity ; who, though wise in that which is good, are simple concerning evil. Thus the same wise raan, in Prov. xii. 2. sets a truly good man in opposition to a man of wicked devices, whom God will condemn. Solomon had occasion to observe many who put on an artful disguise and fair shew of goodness ; but on searching thoroughly, he found very few truly upright. As he says, Prov. XX. 6. Most men will -proclaim every one his own goodness : •But a faithful man who can find ? So that it is exceeding plain that by uprightness, in this place, {Eccles. vii.) Solomon means true moral goodness. What our author urges concerning many inventions, where as Adam's eating of the forbidden fruit was but one invention, is of as little weight as the rest of what he says on this text. For the many lusts and corruptions of mankind, appearing in innumerable ways of sinning, are all the consequence of that sin. The great corruption men are fallen into by the origi nal apostacy, appears in the multitude of the wicked ways to which they are inclined. And therefore these are properly mentioned as the fruits and evidences of the greatness of that apostacy and corruption. VOL, II. r^H lis ORIGINAL 311^;. P- II- Cl- SECT. II. Conceming the Kind of Death threatened to our first ParentSi if they should eat of -the forbidden Fruit. Dr. T, in his observations on the three first chapters of Genesis, says, (p, 7,) "The threatening to man in case of transgression was, that hc should surely die, — Death is the losing of life. Death is opposed to life, and must be under stood according to the nature of that.life, to which it is oppos ed, Now the death here threatened can, with any certainty, be opposed only to the life God gave Adam, when he created -him, (ver. 7.) Any thing besides this must be pure cOnjectiire, without solid foundation." To this I would say : it is true. Death is opposed to life, and mmt be understood according to ihe nature of that life, to which it is opposed. But does it therefore follow that nothing . can be meant by it but the loss of life ? Misery is opposed. to happiness, and sorrow is in scripture often opposed to joy ; but can we conclude from thence, that nothing is meant in scripture by sorrow, but the Zoss q/'^/oy.*' Or that there is no more in misery than the loss or absence of happiness ? And if the death threatened to Adam can, with certainty, "be op posed only to the life given to Adam, when God created him ; I think a state of perfect, perpetual, and hopeless raisery is properly opposed to that, state Adam was in when God created him. For I suppose it will not be denied, that the life Adam had was truly a happy life ; happy in perfect innocency, in the favour of his Maker, surrounded with the happy fruits and testimonies of his love. And I think it has been proved, that he also was happy in a state of perfect righteousness. Nothing is more manifest, than that it is agreeable to a. very common acceptation of the word life, in scripture, that it be understood as signifying a state of excellent and happy exis tence. Now that which is most opposite to that life and state inwhich Adam was created, is a state of total, confirmed Wick- jedness, and perfect hopeless misery, under the diyine displea sure and curse ; not excluding temporal death, or the destruc tion of the body, as an introduction to it, ¦ .. Besides, that which is much more evident than any thing Dr, T. says on this head, is, that the death which was to come on Adam as the punishment of his disobedience, was opposed to that life which he would have had as the reward ofhis obedience IB case he had not sinned. Obedience and disobedience are con- Sect, n. Death threatened to our flrst Parents. 419 traries ; the threatenings and promises which are sanctions of a law are set in direct opposition ; and the promises, rewards and threatened punishments, are most properly taken as each other's opposites. But none will deny that the life which would have been Adam's reward, if he had persisted in obedience, was eternal life. Afid therefore we argue justly that the death which stands opposed to that life, (Dr, T, himself being judge, p, 120. S.) is manifestly eternal death, a death widely different from the death we now die — to use his own words. If Adam, for his persevering obedience was to have had everlasting life and happiness, in perfect holiness, union with his Maker, and enjoyment of his favour ; and this was the life which was to be confirmed by the tree of hfe ; then, doubtless, the death threat ened in case of disobedience, which stands in direct opposition to this, was an exposure to everlasting wickedness and misery, in separation from God, and in enduring his wrath. When God first made mankind, and made known to them the methods of his moral government towards them, in the re velation he made of himself to the natural head of the whole species— and letting him know that obedience to him was ex pected, and in enforcing his duty with the sanction of a threaten ed punishment, called by the name oi death- — we may with the greatest reason suppose, in such a case, that by death was meant the most proper punishment ofthe sin of mankind, and which he speaks of under that name throughout the scripture, as the proper wages of sin ; and this was always, from the beginning, understood tobe so in the church of God. It would be strange indeed if it should be otherwise. It would have been strange, if, when the law of God was first given, and enforced by the threatening of a punishment, nothing at all had been raentioned of that grea* punishment ever spoken of under the name of death — in the revelations which he has given to mankind from age to age — as the proper punishment of the sin of mankind. — And it would be no less strange, if when the punishment which was mentioned and threatened on that occasion was called by the same name, even death, yei we must not understand it to mean the same thing, but something infinitely diverse, and in finitely more inconsiderable. But now let us consider what that death is, which the scrip ture ever speaks of as the proper wages of sin, and is spoken of as such by God's saints in all ages of the church. I will begin with the New Testament. When the apostle Paul says, (Rom. vi. 23.) The wages of sin is death. Dr. T. tells us, (p. 120, S.) that this means eternal death, the second death, a death widely different from the death we now die. The same apostle speaks of death as the proper punishment due for sin, Rom. vii. 5. and chap. viii. 13. 2 Cor, iii, 7. 1 Cor. xv. 56. In all which places, Dr. T. himself supposes the apostle to intend eternal 420 ORIGINAL- SIN, P. U. Ch. I. death,* And when the apostle James speaks of death, as the proper reward, fruit, and end of sin, (Jam, i. 15.) Sin, when it is flnished, bringeth forth death ; it is manifest, that our author supposes eternal destruction to be meant.t And the apostle John, agreeably to Dr, T.'s sense, speaks ofthe second death as that which sin unrepented of will bring all men to at last. Rev, ii, 11 XX, 6, 14. and xxi, 8. In the same sense the apostle John uses the word in his 1st epistle chap, iii, 14. We know that we have passed from death to life, because we love the brethren. He that hateth his brother abideth in death. In the same manner Christ used the word from time to tirae, when he was on earth, and spake concerning the punishraent of sin. John v. 24, He that heareth my word and believeth, <^c. hath everlasting life ; and shall not come into condemnation ; but is passed from death to life. Where according to Dr, T,'s own way of arguing, it cannot be the death we now die that Christ speaks of, but eter nal death, because it is set in opposition to everlasting life, John vi, 50, This is the bread which cometh down from heaven, that a man may eat thereof and not die. chap. viii. 51. Verily, verily, I say unio you, ifa man keep my saying he shall never see DEATH. Chap, xi, 26, And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. In which places it is plain Christ does not mean that believers shall never see temporal death. (See alsp Matt, X, 28, and.Luke x, 28.) In like manner the word was com monly used by the prophets of old, when they spake of death as the proper end and recompence of sin. So abundantly by the prophet Ezekiel. Ezek, iii. 18, When I say unto the wicked man thou shalt surely die. In the original it is, Dying thou shalt die: The same form of expression which God used in the threatening to Adam. We have the same words again, chap, xxxiii. 18. — In chap, xviii. 4, it is said. The soul that sinneth, it shall die.| And that temporal death is not meant in these places is plain, because it is promised most absolutely, that the righteous shall not die the death spoken of Chap, xviii, 21, He shall surely live, he shall not die, (So verse 9, 17, 19, and 22, and chap, iii, 21,) And it is evi dent the prophet Jeremiah uses the word in the same sense, Jer, xxxi. 30, Every one shall die /or his own iniquity. And the same death is spoken of by the prophet Isaiah, Isai, xi, 4, With the breath of his lips shall he slay the wicked. (See also chap. Ixvi. 16. with ver, 24,) Solomon, who we must suppose * See p. 78. note on Rom. vii. 5, and note on ver. 6. Note on Rom. v. 20. Note on Rom. vii. 8. j By comparing what he says, p. 126, with what he often says of that death and destruction which is the demerit and end of personal sin, which he says is the second death or eternal destruction. * To the Hke purpose are chap. iii. 19, 20, and xviii. 4, 9, 13, 17—21, 24, 26, "^s, chap, xxiui. 8,9. 12— 14,19. > . > » Sect. ii. Death threatened to our flrst Parents. 421 was thoroughly acquainted with the sense in which the word was used by the wise, and by the ancients, continually speaks oi death as the proper fruit, issue, and recompense of sin, using the word only in this sense. Prov. xi. 19. As righteounesi tendeth to life, so he that pursueth evil pursueth it to his own death.* He cannot mean temporal death, for he often speaks of it as a punishment of the wicked, wherein the righteous shafl certainly be distinguished from them : As in Prov. xii. 28. In the way of righteousness is life, and in the path-way thereof is no death. (So in chap. x. 2, xi. 4. xiii. 14. xiv. 27, and many other places.) But we find this same wise man observes, that as to temporal death, and temporal events in general, there is no distinction, but that they happen alike to good and bad. (Eccl. ii. 4 — 16. viii. 14. and ix. 2, 3.) His words are remarkable in Eccl. vii. 15. There is a just man that perisheth in his righteousness ; and there is a wicked man that prolongeth his life,in his wickedness. So we find, David in the book of Psalms uses the word death in the same sense, when he speaks of it as the proper wages and issue of sin. Psalm xxxiv, 21, Evil 'shall slay the wicked. He speaks of it as a ' certain thing, Psal. cxxxix. 19. Surely thou wilt slay the wicked, O God. And he speaks of it as a thing wherein the wicked are distinguished from the righteous. Psal. Ixix. 28. Let them be blotted out ofthe book of the living, and not be writ ten with the righteous. — And thus we find the word death used in the Pentateuch, where we have the account of the threa tening of death to Adam. When, in these books, it is spoken of as the proper fruit and appointed reward of sin, it is to be understood oi eternal death. Thus, Deut. xxx. 15. See, I have set before thee this day life and good, and death and evil. Ver. 19, / call heaven and earth to record this day against yon, that t have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing. The life that is spoken of here is doubtless the same that is spoken of in Levit, xviii, 5, Ye shall therefore keep my statutes and my judgments, which if a man do, he shall live in them. This the apostle understands of eternal life ; as is plain by Rom, X. 5, and Gal, iii, 12, But that the death threatened for sin in the law of Moses meant eternal death, is what Dr, T. abundantly declares So in his note on Rom, v, 20, (Par, p. 291,) " Such a constitution the law of Moses was,subjecting those who were under it to death for every transgression : Meaning by death eternal death," These are his words. The like he asserts in many other places. When it is said, in the place now mentioned, / have set before thee life and death, bless ing and cursing, without doubt, the same blessing and cursing * See chap. v. S, 6, 23, vii. 27, viii. 36, 'a. 18. x. 21, xi. 19. xiv. 12. xv. 10. s™i. 21, xix. 16, !1, and xxiii. 13, 14. 422 original si\. P. u. Ch. i, ^-irieant which God had already set before them^with such solemnity, in the 27th and 28th chapters ; where we have the sum of the curses in thosfe last words of the 27th chapter. Cursed is every one which confl,rmeth not all the ivords of this law to do them. Which the apostle speaks of as a threatening oi eternal death ; and with him Dr. T. himself* In this sense also Job and his friends spake of death, as the wages and end of sin, who lived before any written revelation, and had their religion and their phraseology about religion, from the an cients. If any should insist upon it as an objection— against sup-. posing that death was intended to signify eternal death in the threatening to Adam — that this use of the word is figurative ; I reply, that though this should be allowed, yet it is by no means so figurative as many other phrases used in the history contained in these three chapters : As when it is said, God said, Let there be light ; God said. Lei there be a flr-mament, &:c. as though God spake such words with a voice. So when it is said, God called the light day ; God called the flrmament heaven, &c. God rested on the seventh day ; as though he had been weary, and then rested. And when itis said. They heard the voice of God walking ; as though the deity had feet, and took steps on the ground. Dr. T. supposes, that when it is said of Adam and Eve, Their eyes were opened and they saw that they were naked ; by the word naked is meant a state of guilt. (P. 12.) Which sense of the word, naked, is much further from the common Mse oi the word, than the supposed sense of the word death. So this author supposes the pro mise concerning the seed ofthe woman bruising the serpent's head, while. the serpent should bruise his heel, is to be understood of the Messiah destroying the power and sovereignty ofthe devil, and receiving some slight hurt from him. (P. 15, 16.) Which makes the sentence full of figures. And why might not God deliver threatenings to our first parents in figurative expressions, as well as promises ? But indeed, there is no necessity of supposing the word death, or the Hebrew word so translated, if used in the man ner that has been supposed, to have been figurative at all. It does not appear but that this word, in its true and proper meaning, raight signify perfect misery, and sensible destruc tion ; though the word was also applied to signify soraething raore external and visible. There are raany words in our lan guage, such as heart, sense, view, discovery, conception, light, and raany others, which are applied to signify external things ; as that muscular part of the body called heart; external feeling called sewse; the sight of the bodily eye called mew; " Note on Rom. v. 35. Par. p. 291—299, ;Skct. II. Death threatened to our first Parenis. 423 •the finding of a thing by itsbeing uncovered, called discovery ; the Iirst beginning of the foetus in the womb, called conception : and the rays of the sun, caUed light. Yet these words do as truly and properly signify other things of a more spiritual tn^er- nal nature ; such as the disposition, affection, perception, and thought of the mind, and manifestation and evidence to the soul". Common use, which governs the propriety of language, makes the latter things to be as much signified by those words, in their proper meaning, as the former. It is especially com mon in the Hebrew, and 1 suppose other oriental languages, that the same word that signifies soniething external, does no less properly and usually signify something more spiritual. So the Hebrew wo'rds used for breath, ha\e such a double signifi cation ; (riDtfj) Neshama signifies both breath and the soul; and the latter as commonly as the former : (nn) Ruach is used for breath or wind, but yet more commonly signifies spirit, {vbi) Nephesh is used for breath, but yet more commonly signifies soul. So the Word (33S or fc'?) Lebh, heart, no less properly sig nifies the soul, especially with regard to the will and affections, than that part of the Dody so Called. The word (aiW) Shalom, which we render peace, no less properly signifies prosperity and happiness, than mutual agreement. The word translated life, signifies the natural life of the body, and also the perfect and happy 'state of sensible active being ; and the latter as properly as the lormer. So the word death, signifies destruc tion, as to outward sensibility, activity, and enjoyment : But it has raost evidently another signification, which in the Hebrew tongue, is no less proper, viz. perfect, sensible, hopeless ruin and misery. It is therefore wholly without reason urged, that death pro perly signifies only the loss'oi this present lile ; and that there fore nothing else was meant by that death which was threaten ed for eating the forbidden fruit. Nor does it at all appear but that Adam — ^who, from what God said concerning the seed of the woman, could understand that relief v/as promised as to the death which was threatened, as Dr. T. himself supposes — understood the death which was threatened, in the more impor tant sense. Especially seeing temporal death, considered ori ginally and in itself, is evermore, excepting as changed by di vine grace, an entrance into that dismal state of misery which is shadowed forth by the awful circumstances of this death ; cir cumstances naturally suggesting to the mind the most dreadful state of hopeless, sensible ruin. As to the objection, that the phrase. Dying thou shalt die, is several times used in the books of Moses to signify temporal death, it can be of no force. For it has been shewn already, that the same phrase is sometimes used in scripture tip signify eier??«Z death, in instances muclj more parallel with 424 ORIGINAL SIN. , P, II, Ch, i,. this. But indeed nothing can be certainly argued concerning the nature of the thing intended, frora its being expressed in such a manner. For it is evident, that such repetitions of a word in the Hebrew language, are no more than an emphasis upon a word in the more modern languages, to signify the great degree of a thing, the iraportance or certainty of it, &c. When we would signify and irapress these, we commonly put an emphasis on our words. Instead of this, the Hebrews, when they would express a thing strongly, repeated or doubled the word, the more to impress the mind of the hearer ; as may be plain to every one in the least conversant with the Hebrew bible. The repetition in the threatening to Adam, therefore, only implies the solemnity and importance of the threateijing. But God may denounce either eternal or tem poral death with peremptoriness and solemnity, and nothing can certainly be inferred concerning the nature of the thing threatened because it is threatened with emphasis, more than this, that the threatening is much to be regarded. Though it be true, that it raight in an especial raanner be expected that a threatening of eternal death would be denounced with great eraphasis, such a threatening being infinitely important, and to be regarded above all others. SECT. HI. Wherein it is inquired, whether there be any thing in the His tory of the three first Chapters of Genesis which should lead us to suppose that God, in his Constitution with Adam dealt with Mankind in general,- as included in their first Father, and that ihe Threatening of Death, in Case he should eat the forbidden Fruit, hdd respect not only to him, but his Posterity ? Dr. T. rehearsing that threatening to Adam, Thou shalt surely die, and giving us his paraphrase of it, (p, 7, 8,) con cludes thus : " Observe, here is not one word relating to Adam's posterity." But it may be observed, in opposition to this, that there is scarcely one word that we have an account of, which God ever said to Adara or Eve, but what does-^mani- festly include their posterity in the meaning and design of it. There is as much of a word said about Adam's posterity in that threatening, as there is in those words of God to Adam ahd Eve, Gen. i. 28. Be fruitful, and multiply, and repleriish the earth, and sUbdue it ; and as much in events, to lead^ us to suppose Adam's posterity to be included. There is as much of a word of his posterity in that threatening, as in those words, (ver. 29.) Behold, I have given ybu ever-yherb bearing Sec t. in. Adam a federal Head, ijc. 425 seed, — and every tree in which is the fruit of a tree yielding- seed, &c. Even when God was about to create Adam, what he said on that occasion had not respect only to Adam, but to his posterity. Gen. i. 26. Let us make man in our image, and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, &,c. And, what is raore reraarkable, there is as much of a word said about Adam's posterity in the threatening of death, as there is in that sentence, (Gen. iii. 19,) Unto dust shalt thou retum. Which Dr. T. himself supposes to be a sentence pronounced for the execution of that very threatening, Thou shalt surely die. This sentence he himself also often speaks of as includ ing Adam's posterity: And, what is much more remarkable still, is a sentence which Dr. T. hiraself often speaks of, as including his posterity, as a sentence of condemnation, as a JUDICIAL sentence, and a sentence which God pronounced with regard to Adam's posterity, acting the part of a JUDGE, and as such condemning them to temporal death. — Though he is therein utterly inconsistent with himself, inas much as he af the same time abundantly insists, that death is not brought on Adara's posterity in consequence of his sin, at all as a punishment ; but merely by the gracious disposal of a father, bestowing a benefit of the highest nature upon him,* But I shall shew that I do not in any of these things falsely charge or misrepresent Dr, T, — He speaks of the sentence in chap, iii, 19, as pronounced in pursuance of the threatening in the fiirmer chapter, in these words, (p, 17, 18.) " The sen tence upon the man, ver. 17, 18, 19. first affects the earth up on which he was to subsist : The ground should be incumbered with many noxious weeds, and the tillage of it more toilsome : Which would oblige the man to procure a sustenance by hard labour, till he should die, and drop into the ground from whence he was taken. Thus death entered by sin into the world, and man became raortal,t According to the threat ening IN the former chapter." Now, if mankind became mortal, and must die, according to the threatening in the for mer chapter, then doubtless the threatening in the forraer chapter. Thou shalt die, had respect not only to Adam but to mankind, and included Adara's posterity. Yea, and Dr. T. is express in it, and very often so, that the sentence concerning dropping into the ground, or returning to the dust, did include Adam's posterity. So, p, 20, speaking there of that sentence, " Observe (says he) that we their posterity are in fact subjected to the same affliction and mortality, here by sentence infficted upon our first parents, — P. 42, Note, " But yet men through * Page 27. S. fThe subsequent part ofthe quotation the reader will not meet with in the third edition of Dr. T. but in the second of 1741. VOL, H, 54 420 oiiiGiNAti SIN, P- ". Ch. i. that long tract were ^11 suVjiBCt to death, therefore they must be included in the sentence," The same he affirms in innu merable other places, some of which I shall have occasion to raention presently. The sentence which is founded on the threatening, and (as Dr. T. says) according to the threatening, extends to as many as were included in the threatening, and to no more. If the sentence be upon a collective subject, indefinitely, the greatest part of which were not included in the threatening nor were ever threatened at all, then certainly this sentence is not accw-ding to the threatening, nor built upon it. If the sentence be accord ing to the threatening, then we may justly explain thc threat ening by the sentence. And if we find the sentence spoken to the same person to whom the threatening was spoken, and spoken in the second person singular in like raanner with the threatening, founded on t\}e threatening, and according fo it ; and if vke find the sentence includes Adam's posterity, then we raay certainly infer, that sp did the.threatening. And hence, that both the threatening and sentence were delivered to Adam as the public head and representative of his posterity. And we may also further infer from it, in another respect, directly contrary to Dr, T,'s doctrine, that the sentence which included Adam's posterity was to death, as cy^nishment to that posterity, as well as to Adam liimself For a sentence pro nounced in execution of a threatening, is for a punishraent. Threatenings are of punishments. Neither God nor man are wont to threaten others with /auoMrs and benefits. But lest any of this author's admirers should stand to it that it may very properly be said, God threatened mankind with bestowing great kindness upon them, I would observe, that Dr, T. himself often speaks of this sentence as pronounced by God on all mankind, as condemning them ; as a sentence of condim- nation judicially pronounced, or a sentence which God pro nounced on all mankind acting as their judge, and in a judi cial proceeding. This he affirms in multitudes of places. In p. 20. speaking of this sentence, which he there says subjects us, Adam's and Eve's posterity, to affliction and raortality, he calls it a judicial act of condemnation, " The judicial act of condemnation (says he) clearly implies, a taking hira to pieces, and returning him to the ground from whence he was taken." And p, 28, 29. (Note.) " In aU the scripture from one end to the other^ there is recorded but one judgment to condemnation, which carae upon all men, and that is. Gen. iii. 17 — 19. " Dust thou art," &c. P. 40, speaking of the same, he says, " All men are brought under condemnation." In p, 27, 28, " By judgment, judgment to condemnation, it appeareth evidently to me, he {Paul) means the being adjudged to the forementioned death ; he means the sentence of death, of a general mortality, *5ect. hi, Adam a federal Head, ^-c. .12'/ pronounced upon mankind in consequence of Adam's first trans gression. And the condemnation inflicted by the judgment of God, answereth to, and is in effect the same thing with, being dead." P, 30, " The many, that is mankind, were subject to death by the judicial act of God," P. 31. " Being made sin ners, may very well signify, being adjudged, or condemned to death, — For the Hebrew word, ^c. signifies to make one a sin ner by a judicial sentence, or to condemn." — P, 178, Par, on Rom, V, 19, Upon the account of one inan's disobedience, mankind were judicially constituted sinners ; that is, subjected to death by the sentence of God the Judge."- And there are many other places where he repeats the same thing. And it is pretty remarkable, that (page 48, 49,) immediately after citing Prov. xvii, 15, He that justfieth the wicked, and he that condem neth the just, are both an cAomination to the Lord — ahd iVhen he is careful in citing these words to put us in mind, that it is meant of a judicial act— yet, in the very next words, he sup poses that God hilnself does so, since he constantly supposes that Adam's posterity, whora God condemns, are innocent. His words are these, " Fi-om all this it followeth, that as the judg ment that passed upon all raen to condemnation, is death's coming upon all men, by the judicial act of God, upon occasion of Adam's transgression : So," ^^\A*. o»>v I will first consider the^fCTW-fie-P^^^Tqiion the two for mer, judgment and condemnation. He often calls this con demnation a judicial act, and a sentence of condemnation. But, according to his scheme, it is a judicial sentence of condem nation passed upon thera who are perfectly innocent — and viewed by the judge, even in passing the conderanatory sen tence, as having no guilt of sin, or any fault at all chargeable upon them — and a judicial proceeding, passing sentence ar bitrarily, without any law or rule of right before established. For there was^no preceding law threatening death, that he or any one else ever pretended to have been established, but on ly this. In ihe day thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die. And concerning this he insists, that there is not a word said in it of Adara's posterity. So that the condemnation spoken of, is a sentence of condemnation to death, for, or in consequence of the sin of Adam, without any law by which that sin could be imputed to bring any such consequence ; contrary to the apos tle's plain scope. ' And not only so, but, over and above all this, itis a judicial sentence of condemnation to that which is no ca lamity, nor is considered as such in the sentence ; but a con demnation to a great favour ! The apostle uses the words judgment and condemnation in other places ; they are no strange and unusual terms with him : But never are they used by him in this sense, or any like it ; nor are they ever used thus any where else in the New Testament. This apostle, in this epistle to the Romans often speaks of condemnation, using the sarae or similar terms and phrases as here, but never in the abovesaid sense.* This will be plain to every one who casts his eye on those places. And if we look into the former part of this chapter, the apostle's discourse raakes it evident, that he is speaking of a conderana- tion, which is no testiraony of favour to the innocent ; but of God's displeasure towards those to whom he is not reconciled, but looks on as offenders and enemies, and holds as the objects of his wrath, from which we are delivered by Christ. (See ver. 6—11.) And even viewing this discourse itself in the very para graph we are upon, if we may judge any thing by language, there is every thing to lead us to suppose, that the apostle uses words here, as he does elsewhere, properly, and as im plying a supposition of sin, chargeable on the subject, and * See Chap. ii. 1, 2, 3. six times in these verses ; also ver. 12 and 27. and chap. iii. 7. chap. viii. 1 and 3. chap. xiv. 3, 4. and ver. 10, 13, 22, and 23. Sect, t. Remarks on Rom. v. IS, ^c. 489 exposing to punishment. He speaks of condemnation as what comes by sin, a condemnation to death, which seems to be a most terrible evil, and capital punishraent, even in what is temporal and visible; and this in .the way oi judgment and execution of justice, in opposition to grace or favour, and gift or a benefit coming by favour. And sin, ofience, transgres sion and disobedience are, over and over again, spoken of as the ground of the condemnation, and of the capital suffering, for ten verses successively ; that is, in every verse in the whole paragraph. The words, justification and righteousness, are explained by Dr. T. in a manner no less unreasonable. He understands justification, in ver. 18. and righteousness, in ver, 19, in such a, sense, as to suppose they belong to all, and are actually to be applied to all mankind, good and bad, believers and unbelievers; to the worst enemies of God, remaining such, as well as his peculiar favorites, and many that never had any sin imputed to them ; meaning thereby no raore than what is fulfilled in an universal resurrection from the dead, at the last day,* Now this is a most arbitrary, forced sense. Though these terms are used all over the New Testament, yet nothing like such an use of thein is to be found in any one instance. The words justi fy, justification, and righteousness, as from God to men, are never used but to signify a privilege belonging only to some, and that which is peculiar to distinguished favourites. This apostle in particular, above all the other writers of the New Testament, abounds in the use of these terms ; so that we have all imaginable opportunity to understand his language, and know the sense in which he uses these words : But he never elsewhere uses them in the sense supposed here, nor is there any pretence that he does. Above all, this apostle abounds in the use of these terms in this epistle. Justification* is the subject he had been upon through all the preceding part of the epistle. It was the grand subject of all the foregoing chapters, and the preceding part of this chapter, where these terras are continu ally repeated. And the word justification is constantly used to signify something peculiar to believers who had been sinners; implying some reconciliation and forgiveness of sin, and special privilege in nearness to God, above the rest of the world. Yea, the word is constantly used thus, according to Dr. T.'s own explanations in his paraphrase and notes on this epistle. And there is not the least reason to suppose but that he is still speaking of the same justification, which he had dwelt upon from the beginiiing to this place. He speaks oi justification and righteousness here, just in the same manner as he had done in the preceding part of the epistle. He had all along * So pases47,49,60,BI,62,andoth«rplaces. Vol. ti. 62 490 ORIGINAL SIN, P. 11, Ch. IV. spoken of justification as standing in relation to sin, disobedi ence to God, and offence against hira, and so he does here. He had before been speaking of justification through free grace, and so he does here. He before had been speaking of justification through righteousness, as in Christ Jesus, and so he does here. And if we look into the former part of this very chap ter, we shall find justification spoken of just in the same sense as in the rest of the epistle ; which is also supposed by our aiithor in his exposition. It is still justification by faith, justi' fication of them who had been sinners, justification attended with reconciliation, justification peculiar to them who had the love of God shed abroad in their hearts. The apostle's forego ing discourse on justification by grace through faith — and what he had so greatly insisted on as the evidence of the truth of this doctrine, even the universal sinfulness of mankind in their original state — is plainly what introduces this discourse in the latter part of this 5th chapter ; where he shews how all man kind came to be sinful and miserable, and so to need this grace of God, and righteousness of Christ. And therefore we can not, without the most absurd violence, suppose any other than that he is still speaking of the same justification. And as to the universal expression used in the 18th verse, by the righteousness of one, the free gift came upon all men to justification of life ; it is needless here to go into the controver sy between the remonstrants and anti-remonstrants, concerning universal redemption, and their different interpretations of this place. If we take the words even as the Arminians do ; yet, in their sense of them, the free gift comes on all men to justifica tion only conditionally, i, e, provided we believe, repent, &c. But in our author's sense, it actually coraes on all, whether they believe and repent, or not : which certainly cannot be inferred from the universal expression, as here used. Dr. T. himself supposes the main design of the apostle in this universal phrase, all men, is to signify that the benefits of Christ shall come on Gentiles as well as Jews*. And he supposes that the Many and the All, here signify the same ; but it is quite ceriain, that all the benefits here spoken of, which the apostle says are to the many, does not actually come upon all niankind ; as particular ly the abounding of graces ver. 15. " The grace of God, and the gift by grace, hath abounded unto the many," (ei6«s iToXXiiff,) This abounding of grace our author explains thus ; "a rich overplus of grace, in erecting a new dispensation, furnished with a glorious fund of light, means, and motives." (p. 44.) epistle. I * Page 80, 61. See also contents of this paragraph, in his notes en the tie. ' Shot, i. Remarks on Rom. v, 12, ^c. 491 But will any pretend, that all mankind have actually been par takers of this new fund of light, &c. ? How were the raany mil lions of Indians, on the Araerican side of the globe, partakers of it, before the Europeans came hither ? Yea, Dr. T. himself supposes, than it is only free for all that are willing to accept of it. * The agreement between Adara as the type or figure of him that was to come, and Christ as the anti-type, appears full and clear, if we suppose that all who are in christ (to use the common scripture phrase) have the benefit of his obedi ence even as all who are in adam have the sorrowful fruit of his disobedience. The scripture speaks of believers as the seed or posterity of Christ. (Gal. ui. 29.) They are in Christ by grace, as Adam's posterity are in him by nature. See also 1 Cor. XV. 45—49. The spiritual seed are those which this apostle often represents as Christ's body : And the 64 -mWot here spoken of as maJe righteous by Christ's obedience, are doubtless the same with the 61 aoXXoi which he speaks of in chap. xii. 5. We, being many, are one body ; or, we, the many, 01 cfoXXoi iv (fufiM s(t{j,sv. And again, 1 Cor. x. 17. ^v iTufia 01 woXXoi stffAEv. And the sarae which the apostle had spoken of in the preceding chapter. (Rom. iv, 18, compared with Gen, xv, 5,) Dr, T, insists rauch on 1 Cor, xv. 21, 22. "For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead : for as in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be raade alive ;" to confirm his suppositions, that the apostle in the .5th of Romans, speaking of the death and condemnation which come by Adam, has respect only to the death we all die when this life ends': And that by the justification and life which corae by Christ, he has respect only to the general resurrection at the last day. But it is observable that his argument is wholly built on these two suppositions, viz. First, that the resurrection meant by the apostle, 1 Cor, xv, is the resurrection of all man kind, both just and unjust. Secondly, That the opposite conse quences of Adam's sin and Christ's obedience, in Rom, v. are the very sarae, neither more nor less, than are spoken of there. But there are no grounds for supposing either of these things to be true. 1. There is no evidence that the resurrection there spoken of relates both to the just and unjust ; but abundant evi dence of the contrary. The resurrection of the wicked is seldom raentioned in the New Testament, and rarely included in the meaning of the word ; it being esteemed not worthy to be called a rising to life, being only for a great increase of the misery and darkness of eternal death : And therefore by the resurrection is most commonly meant a rising to life and \ * Notes on the epistle, page 2S4. 492 GRieiNAL SIN. p. II. Ch. n. happiness*. The saints are called the children of ihe resur rection, as Dr. T. observes in his note on Rom. viii. 11. And it is exceeding evident, that it is the resurrection to life and happiness which the apostle is speaking of in 1 Cor. xv. 21, 22. As appears by each of the three foregoing verses. Ver. 18. Then they which are fallen asleep in christ (i. e. the saints) are perished. Ver. 19. If in this life only we (christians or apostles) have hope in Christ, (and have no resurrection and eternal life to hope for) we are of all men most miserable. Ver. 20. But now is Christ risen from the dead, and is become the FIRST FRUITS of them that slept. He is the forerunner and first fruits only jvith respect to thera that are his ; who are to" follow him, and partake with him in the glory and happiness of his resurrection : But he is not the first fruits of them that shall come forth to the resurrection of damnation. It also ap pears by the verse immediately following, ver. 23. " But every man in his own order ; Christ the first fruits, and afterward they that are Christ's at his coming." The sarae is plain by what is said in verse 29—32. and by all that is said from the 35th verse to the end of the chapter, for twenty- three verses together : It there expressly appears, that the apostle is speaking only of arising to glory, with a glorious body, as the little grain that is sown, being quickened, rises a beautiful flourishing plant. He there speaks of the different degrees of glory among them that shall rise, and compares it to the different degres of glory among the celestial lumi naries. The resurrection he treats of is expressly, being raised in incorruption, in glory, in power, with a spiritual body, having the image of the second man, the spiritual and heavenly Adam : a resurrection wherein this corruptible shall put on in- eorruption, and ihis mortal put on immortality, and death be swallowed up in victory, and the saints gloriously triumph over that last enemy. Dr. T. hiraself says what is in eflect own ing that the resurrection here spoken of is only of the righ teous ; for it is expressly a resurrection ev aSavatfia. and a(p^a^a'ia, (ver. 53, and 42.) But Dr. T. says, " These are never attributed to the wicked in scripture."! So that when the apostle says here. As in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive ; it is as much as if he had said. As in Adam we all die, and our bodies are sown in corruption, in dishonour, and in .weakness ; so in Christ we all (we christians, whom 1 have been all along- speaking of) sAaZZ be raised in power, glory, and incorruption, spiritual and heavenly, conformed to the second Adam. " For as we have borne the image of the earthly, we shall also bear * As may bo observed in Matt, xxii. 80. Luke xx. 85, 86. John vi. 99, 40, 54, PhiUp. iij. 11. and other places. t Note on Bom. viii. 37. Sect. i. Remarks on Rom. v. 12, ^c. 493 the image of the heavenly," ver. 49. Which clearly explains and determines his meaning in ver. 21, 22. 2. There is no evidence that the benefit by the second Adam, spoken of in Rom. v. is the very same (containing nei ther more nor less) as the resurrection spoken of in I Cor. xv. It is no evidence of it, that the benefit is opposed to the death that comes by the first Adam, in like manner in both places. The resurrection to eternal life, though it be not the whole of that salvation and happiness which comes by the second Adara, yet is it that wherein this salvation is principally ob tained. The time of the saints' glorious resurrection is often spoken of as the proper time of their salvation, The day of their redemption, the time of their adoption, glory, and recompense.* All that happiness which is given before, is only a prelibation and earnest of their great reward. Well therefore raay that consuraraate salvation bestowed on thera, be set in opposition to the death and ruin which comes by the first Adam, in like raanner as the whole of their salvation is opposed to the sarae in Rora. v. Dr. T. himself observes,! " That the revival and resurrection of the body, is frequently put for our advance ment to eternal hfe." It being the highest part, it is often put for the whole. This notion, as if the justification, righteousness, and life, spoken of in Rom. v. implied the resurrection to damnation, is not only without ground from scripture, but contrary to reason. For those things are there spoken of as great bene fits, by the gift and free grace of God : But this is the con trary, in the highest degree possible ; the most consummate calamity. To obviate this, our author supposes the resurrec tion of all to be a great benefit in itself, though turned into a calamity by the sin and folly of obstinate sinners, who abuse God's goodness. But the far greater part of mankind, since Adam, have never had opportunity to abuse this goodness, it having never been made known to them. Men cannot abuse a kindness which they never had either in possession, pro- raise, offer, or sorae intimation : But a resurrection is made known only by divine revelation ; which few comparatively have enjoyed. So that as to such wicked men as die in lands of darkness, if their resurrection comes at all by Christ, it comes from hira, and to them, only as a curse, and not a bles sing ; for it never comes to thera at all by any conveyance, grant, promise, or offer, or any thing by which they can claim it, or know any thing ofit, till it comes as an infinite calamity, past all remedy. * As in Luke liv. 14. and xxi. 28. Bora. viii. 23. Eph. iv. 30. Colos. iii. 4. 2 Thes. '\. 7. STirn. iv. 8. 1 Pet. i. 13. and v. 4. 1 .lohn iii. 2. and other place?. + Note on Rom. viii. 11. 494 ORIGIHAL SIS. p. II. Ch. iv. VIII. In a peculiar manner is there an unreasonable violence used in our author's explanation of the words sinners and sinned, in the paragraph before us. He says, " These words. By one man's disobedience many were made sinners, mean neither more nor less, than that by one man's disobedi ence, the many were made subject to death, by the judicial act of God."* And he says in the same place, " By death, most certainly is meant no other than the death and mortality com mon to all mankind." And these words, ver. 12, For that all have sinned, he thus explains, " All men became sinners, as all " mankind are brought into a state of sufiering,"! Here I observe, 1, The main thing by which he justifies such inter pretations is, that sin, in various instances, is used for suffering, in the Old Testament.J To which I reply ; though it be true that the original word (ttan) signifies both sin, and a sin-offering — and though this, and some other Hebrew words which signi fy sin, iniquity, and wickedness, are sometimes put for the ef fect or punishment of iniquhy, by a metonyray of the cause for the effect — yet it does not appear, that these words are ever used for suffering, where that suffering is not a punishment, or a fruit of God's anger for sin. And therefore none of the in stances he mentions corae up to his purpose. When Lot is commanded to leave Sodom, that he might not be consumed in the iniquity of the city, meaning in that fire which was the effect and punishment of the iniquity of the city ; this is quite another thing, than if that fire came on the city in general, as no punishment at all, nor as any fruit of a charge of iniquity, but as a token of God's /auoMr to the inhabitants. For accord ing to Dr, T. the death of mankind is introduced only as a beneflt, irom a covenant of grace. And especially is this quite another thing than if, in the expression used, the iniquity had been ascribed to Lot ; and God, instead of saying. Lest thou be consuraed in the iniquity of the city, had said, Lest thou be consumed in thine iniquity, or. Lest thou sin, or be made a sin^- ner. Whereas the expression is such, as expressly removes the iniquity spoken of from Lot, and fixes it on the city. The place cited by our author in Jer, li, is exactly parallel. And as to what Abimelech says to Abraham, " What have I offended thee, that thou hast brought on me, and on my kingdom, a great sin ?" It is manifest, Abimelech was afraid that God was angry, for what he had done to Sarah ; or, would have been angry with him, if he had done what he was about to do, as imputing sin to him for it. Which is a quite different thing from calling some calamity, sin, under no notion of its being any punish ment of sin, nor in the least degree from God's displeasure, * Page 30. , t Page 34, and elsewhere. J Page 34. Sect,i. Remarks on Rom. \.l^, ^, 495 And so with regard to every place our author cites in the mar gin, it is plain that what is raeant in each of them is the punishment of sin, and not some suffering which is no punish ment at all. And as to the instances he mentions in his Sup plement, (p. 8.) the two that look most favourable to his design are those in Gen. xxxi. 39, and 2 Kings vii, 9, With respect to the forraer, where Jacob says, that which was born of beasts, (manu ojm, / bear the loss of it.) Di. T, is pleased to translate it, / was the sinner ; but properly rendered, it is, / expiated it ; the verb in Pihel, proper signifying to expiate ; and the plain raeaning is, 1 bore the blame of it, and was obliged to pay for it^ as being supposed to be lost through my fault or neglect : Which is a quite difterent thing from suffering without any sup position of fault. And as to the latter place, where the lepers say, this day is a day of good tidings, and we hold our peace : If we tarry till moming some mischief will befall us : In the Hebrew it is {\\)y umc) iniquity will flnd us, that is, some punishment of our fault will come upon us. Elsewhere such phrases are used, as your iniquity will flnd you out, and the like. But certainly this is a different thing from suffering without fault, or supposition of fault. And it does not appear, that the verb in Hiphil, (j'lfin) rendered to condemn, is ever put for condemn, in any other sense than for sin, or guilt,, or supposed guilt belonging to the subject condemned. This wprd is used in the participle of Hiphil, to signify condemn ing, in Prov. xvii, 15. " He that justifieth the wicked, and he that condemneth the just, even both are an abomination to the Lord." This Dr. T. observes, as if it were to his purpose, when he is endeavouring to shew, that in this place (Rom. v.) the apostle speaks of God himself as condemning the just, or perfectly innocent, in a parallel signification of terms. Nor is any instance produced, wherein the verb siw, which is used by the apostle when he says all have sinned, is any where used in our author's sense, for being brought into a state of sufferings and that not as a punishnient for sin, or as any thing arising frora God's displeasure ; much less for being the subject of what coraes only as the fruit of divine love, and as a benefit of the HIGHEST NATURE.* Not cau any thing like this sense of the- verb be found in the whole bible. 2. If there had been any thing like such an use of the words sin and sinner, as our author supposes, in the Old Testa ment, it is evident that such an use of them is quite alien from the language ofthe New Testament. Where can an instance. be produced of any thing like it, in any one place, besides what is pretended in this? and particularly in any of this apostle's writings ? We have enough of his writings by which * Page 87. 8. 496 ORIGINAL SIN, P. "• CS, IV, to learn his way of speaking about sin, condemnation, punish- meet, death, and suffering. He wrote rauch more of the New- Testament than any other person. He very often has occasion to speak of condemnation : but where does he express it by such a phrase as being made sinners ? Especially how far is he elsewhere from using such a phrase, to signify being condemn ed without guilt, or any imputation or supposition of guilt ? Vastly more still is it remote from his language, so to use the verb sin, and to say, raan sinneth, or Aas sinned, though here by meaning nothing more or less than thathe, by a judicial act, is condemned, according to a dispensation of grace, to receive a great favour ! He abundantly uses the words sin and sinner; his writings are full of such terms ; but where else does he use them in such a sense ? He has much occasion in his epis tles to speak of death, temporal and eternal ; to speak of suf fering oi all kinds, in this World, and the world to come : But where does he call these things sin? or denominate innocent raen sinners, meaning, that they are brought into a state of suf fering? If the apostle, because he was a Jew, was so addict ed to the Hebrew idiora as thus in one paragraph to repeat this particular Hebraism, which, at most is comparatively rare even in the Old Testament ; is it not strange, that never any thing like it should appear any where else in his writings ? and espe cially, that he should never fall into such a way of speaking in his epistle to the Hebrews, written to Jews only, who were most used to the Hebrew idiom ? And why does Christ never nse such language in any of his speeches, though he was born and brought up among Jews, and delivered alraost all his speeches to Jews only ? And why do none of the other New Testaraent writers ever use it, who were all born and educated Jews, (ex cepting perhaps Luke) and some of thera wrote especially for the benefit of the Jews? It is worthy to be observed what liberty is taken and bold ness is used with this apostle. Such words as aii.agro'K®-', aixag- ravu, xpif),a, xaTctxpif^a, ^ixaiou, Jixaiwtfis, are aliundantly used by him elsewhere in this and other epistles, when speaking, as here, of Christ's redemption and atonement, the general sinfiilness of mankind, the condemnation of sinners, the justification by Christ, death as the consequence of sin, and restoration to life by- Christ ; yet no where are any of these words used, but in a sense very remote from what is supposed by Dr. T! however, in this place, it seeras, these terms must have a distinguished singular sense annexed to them I A new language must jlje', coined for the apostle, to which he is evidently quite unused, for the sake of evading this clear, precise, and abundant testiraony of his, to the doctrine of original sin. ' • ' 3, To put such a sense on the word sin, in this place, is not only to make the apostle greatly disagree with himself in Sect, i. Remarks on Rom. v. 12, ^-f 497 the language he uses every where else, but also in this very passage. He often here uses the word sin, and other words plainly of the same import, such as transgression, disobedience, offence. Nothing can be more evident, than that theSe are used as several naines of the same thing ; for they are used interchangeably, and put one for another, And these words are used no less than seventeen times in this one paragraph. Perhaps we shall find no place in the whole bible, in whicii the word, sin, and other words plainly synonomous, are used so often in so little compass. And in all these instances, in the proper sense, as signifying moral evil, and even so understood by Dr. T. himself (as appears by his own exposition) but only . jn these two places (ver, 12, 19.) where, in the midst of all, to evade a clear evidence of the doctrin? of original sin, another meaning raust be found out, and it must be supposed that the apostle uses the -word in a sense entirely different, signifying something that neither .imjpZies nor supposes any moral evil at all in the subject. Here it is very reniarkable, how the gentleman who so greatly insisted upon it, that the word, death, must needs be understood in the same sense throughout this paragraph ; yea, that it is evidently, clearly, and infallibly, so, inasmuch as the apostle is still discoursing on the same subject ; yet can, with out the least difficulty, suppose the word sin, to bg used so differently in the very same passage, wherein the apostle is discoursing on the same thing. Let us take that one instance in ver, 12, " Wherefore as by one maij sin entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned." Here, by sin, implied in the word sinned, in the end of the sentence, our author understands something perfectly and altogether diverse from what is meant by the word sin, twice in the former part of the same sentence, of which this latter part is the explication. And a sense entirely different from the use of the word twice in the next sentence, wherein the apostle is still most plainly discoursing on the same subject, as is not denied. And so our author himself under stands ver, 14, Afterwards (ver, 19,) the apostle uses the word, sinners, which our author supposes to be in a somewhat differ ent sense still, So that here is the utmost violence of the kind that can be conceived of, to make out a scheme against the plain est evidence, in changing the meaning of a word backward and forward, in one paragraph, all about one thing, and in differ ent parts of the same sentence, occurring in quick repetitions, , with a variety of other synonymous words to fix its signification. To which we raay add, the continued use of the word in all the preceding and subsequent parts of this epistle ; in none of which places is it pretended, but that the word is used in tlje VOL, II. ^^ flections on the Evidence which we here have of the Doctrine of Original Sin. The connection of this remarkable paragraph with the foregoing discourse in this epistle, is not obscure ahd difficult, nor to be sought for at a distance. It may be plainly seen, only by a general glance ori what goes before, from the begin ning of the epistle ; And irideed what is said immediately be^ fore in the same chapter, leads directly to it. The apostle in the preceding part of this epistle had largely treated of the sinfulness and misery of all mankind, Jews as well as Gentiles, He had particularly spoken of the depravity and ruin of man kind in their natural state, in the foregoing part of this chapter ; representing them as being sinners, ungodly enemies, exposed to divine wraih, and without strength. This naturally leads him to observe, how this so great and deplorable an event came to pass ; how this universal sin and ruin came into the world. And with regard to the Jews in particular, though they Inight allow the doctrine of original sin in profession, they were strongly prejudiced against what was implied in it, or evidently followed from it, with regard to themselves. In this respect they were prejudiced against the doctrine of universal sinful ness, and exposedness to wrath by nature, looking on them selves as by nature holy, and favourites of God, because they were the children of Abraham ; and with them the apostle had laboured most in the foregoing pcut of the epistle, to convince them of their being by nature as sinful, and as much the chil dren of wrath, as the Gentiles : It was therefore exceeding proper, and what the apostle's design most naturally led him to, that they should take off their eyes from their father Abraham, their father in distinction from other nations, and direct them lo their father Adam, who was the common father of inankind, equally of Jews and Gentiles, And when he had entered on this doctrine of the derivation of sin and death to all mankind from Adam, no wonder if he thought it needful to be somewhat Sect, ii. The true Scope of Rom. v. 12. ^-c. 50l particular in it, seeing he wrote to Jews and Gentiles ; the former which had been brought up under the prejudices of a proud opinion of themselves, as a holy people by nature, and the latter had been educated in total ignorance. Again, the apostle had, from the beginning of the epistle, been endeavouring to evince the absolute o'epc ndence of all mankind on the free grace of God for salvation, and the great ness of this grace ; and particularly in the former part of this chapter. The greatness of this grace he shews especially by two things. (1.) The universal corruption and misery of man kind ; as in all the foregoing chapters, and in several preceding verses of this chapter, (ver. 6 — 10.) (2.) The greatness ofthe benefits which believers receive, and the greatness of the glory for which they hope. So especially in ver. I — 5, and llth of this chapter. And here, ver. 12. to the end, he still pursues the same design of magnifying the grace of God, in the favour, life, and happiness which believers in Christ re ceive ; speaking here of the grace of God, ihe gift by grace, the abounding of grace, and the reign of grace. And he still sets forth the freedom and riches of grace by the same two ar guraents, viz. The universal sinfulness and ruin of mankind, all having sinned, all teing naturally exposed to death, judg raent and conderan ation ; and the exceeding greatness of the benefit received being far greater than the misery which comes by the first Adam, and abounding beyond it. And it is by no means consistent with the apostle's scope, to suppose, that the benefit which we have by Christ, as the antitype of Adam, here mainly insisted on, is without any grace at all, being only a restoration to life of such as never deserved death. Another thing observable in the apostle's grand scope from the beginning of the epistle, is, that he endeavours to shew the greatness and absoluteness of dependence on the re demption and righteousness of Christ, for justification and life, that he raight magnify and exalt the Redeemer ; in which de sign his whole heart was swallowed up, and may be looked upon as the main design of the whole epistle. And this is what he had been upon in the preceding part of this chapter, inferring it from the same argument, even the utter sinfulness and ruin of all men. And he is evidently still on the same thing from the 12th verse to the end ; speaking of the sanie justification and righteousness which he had dwelt on before, and not another totally diverse. No wonder, when the apos tle is treating so fully and largely of our restoration, righteous ness, and life by Christ, that he is led by it to consider our fall, sin, death, and ruin by Adam ; and to observe wherein these two opposite heads of mankind agree, and wherein they differ, in the manner of conveyance of opposite influences and communications from each. 502 ORIGINAL SIN, P, II, Ch. iV. Thus, if the place be understood, as it is used to be under stood by orthodox divines, the whole stands in a natural, easy^ and clear connection with the preceding part of the chapter, and all the former part of the epistle ; and in a plain agree-^ ment with the express design of all that the apostle had been saying; and also in connection with the words last before spoken, as introduced by the two immediately preceding verses, where he is speaking of our justification, reconcilia tion, and salvation by Christ ; which leads the apostle direct ly to observe, how, on the contrary, we have sin and death by Adam. Taking this discourse of the apostle in its true aijd plain sense, there is no need of great extent of learning, or depth of criticism, to find out the connection. But if it be understood in Dr. T.'s sense, the plain scope and connection are wholly lost, and there was truly need of skill in criticism, and the art oi discerning, beyond or at least different from that of former divines, and a faculty of seeing what other men's sight could not reach, in order to find out the connection. What has been already observed, may suffice to shew the apostle's general scope in this place. But yet there seeras to be some other things to which he alludes in several expressions. As particularly, the Jews had a very superstitious and extra: vagant notion of their law, delivered by Moses ; as if it were the prime, grand, and indeed only rule of God's proceeding with mankind as their judge, both in their justification and condemnation, or from whence all, both sin and righteousness, was imputed ; and had no consideration of the law of nature, written in the hearts of the Gentiles, and of all mankind. Herein they ascribed infinitely too rauch to their particular law, beyond the true design of it. They made their boast of the law ; as if their being distinguished from all other nations by tbat great privilege, the giving of ike law, sufficiently made them a holy people, and God's children. This notion of theirs the apostle evidently refers to, chap, ii, 13, 17 — 19. and indeed through that whole chapter. They looked on the law of Moses as intended to be the only rule and means of justification ; and as such, trusted in the works of the law, especially circumci sion; which appears by the third chapter. But as for the Gentiles, they looked on them as by nature sinners, and chil dren of wrath ; because born of uncircumcised parents, and aliens Icom their law, and who themselves did not know, profess and submit to the law of Moses, becorae proselytes, iand receive circumcision. What they esteemed the sum of their wickedness and condemnation, was, that they did not turn Jews, and act as Jews*, To this notion the apostle has a * Here are worthy to be observed the things which Dr. T. himself says to the »ame purpoSftKej, § 302, 303. and Preface to Par., on JEpist. to Eora. p. 144, 43. Sect. ii. The true Scope of Rom. v. 12, ^c, 503 plain respect, and endeavours to convince them of its false ness, in chap. ii. 12 — 16. And he has a manifest regard again to the same thing here. (Chap, v, 12 — 14,) Which may lead us the more clearly to see the true sense of these verses ; about the sense of which is the main controversy, and the meaning of which being determined, it will settle the mean ing of every other controverted expression through the whole discourse. Dr. T, misrepresents the apostle's argument in these verses ; which, as has been demonstrated, is in his sense alto gether vain and impertinent, He supposes, the thing which the apostle mainly intends to prove, is, that death or mortality does not corae on raankind by personal sin ; and that he would prove it by this medium, that death reigned when there was no law in being which threatened personal sin with death, It is acknowledged that this is imphed, even that death came into the world by Adam's sin : Yet this is not the main thing the apostle designs to prove. But his main point evidently is, that sin and guilt, and just exposedness to death and -ruin, came into fhe world by Adam's sin ; as righteousness, justification, and a title to eternal life come by Christ, Which point he confirms by this • consideration, that from the very time when 'Adara sinned, sin, guilt, and desert of ruin became universal ¦ in the world, longi before the law given by Moses to the Jewish nation had any being. The apostle's remark, that sin entered into the world by one man, who was the father of the whole human race, was an observation which afforded proper instruction for the Jews, who looked on themselves as an holy people, because they had the law of Moses, and were the children of Abraham, an holy father ; while they looked on other nations as by nature un holy and sinners, because they were not Abraham's children. He leads them up to a higher ancestor than this patriarch, even to Adam, who being equally the father of Jews and Gentiles^ both alike come from a sinful father ; from whom guilt and pollution were derived alike to all mankind. And this the apostle proves by an argument, which of all that could possibly be invented, tended the most briefly and directly to convince the Jews; even by this reflection, that death had corae equally' on all mankind from Adam's time, and that the i posterity of Abraham wene equally subject to it with the rest of the world. This was apparent in fact, a thing they all knew. And the Jews had always been taught that deatA (which began in the destruction of the body, and of this present life) was the ¦ proper punishment of sin. This they were taught in Moses's histol-y of Adam, and God's first threatening of punishment for sin, and by the constant doctrine of the law and the pro phets ; as already bbserved. 504 ORIGINAL SIN. P. Tl. Ch, iV. And the apostle's observation — that sin was in the world long before the law was given, and was as universal in the world from the times of Adam, as it had been among the heathen since the law of Moses— shewed plainly, that the Jews were quite mistaken in their notion of their particular law ; and that the law which is the original and universal rule of righteousness and judgment for all mankind, was another law, of far more ancient date, even the law of nature. This began as early as the human nature began, and vvas established with the first father of mankind, and in him with the whole race, The positive precept of abstaining from the forbidden fruit was given for the trial of his compliance with this law of nature ; of which the main rule is supreme regard to God and his will. And the apostle proves that it must be thus, because if the law of Moses had been the highest rule of judgnjent, and if there had not been a superior, prior, divine rule established, raankind in general would not have been judged and con demned as sinners, before that was given, (for " sin is not ira- puted when there is no law")as it is apparent in fact they were, because death reigned before that time, even frorii the time of Adam, It may be observed that the apostle both in this epistle, and in that to the Galatians, endeavours to convince the Jews of these two things, in opposition to the notions and prejudices they had entertained concerning «Aeir law. (I.) That it never was intended to be the covenant, or method by which they should actually he justifled. (2.) That it was not the highest and universal rule or law, by which mankind in general, and parti cularly the heathen world, were condemned. And he proves both by similar arguments. He proves that the law of Moses was not the covenant by which any of mankind were to obtain justiflcation, because that covenant was of older date, being expressly established in the time of Abraham, and Abraham himself was justifled by it. This argument the apostle parti-. cularly handles in the third chap, of Galatians, particularly in ver. 17 — 19. and especially in Rom. iv. 13 — 15.- He proves also that the law of Moses was not the prime rule of judgment, by which mankind in general, and particularly the heathen world, were condemned. And this he proves also the same way, viz. by shewing this to be of older date than that law, and that it was established with Adam. Now these things tended to lead the Jews to right notions of their law, not as the intend ed method of justiflcation, nor as the original and universal rule of condemnation, but something superadded to both ; super-. added to the latter, to illustrate and confirm it, that the offence might abound : and superadded to the former, to be as a school master, to prepare men for its benefits, and to magnify divine grace in it, that this might much more abound. OECT, ir. The true Scope of Rom. v. 12, ^c. 505 The chief occasion of obscurity and difficulty, attending the scope and connection of the various clauses of this dis course, particularly in the 13th and I4th verses, is, that there are two things (although closely connected) which the apostle has in view at once. He would illustrate the grand point he had been upon frora the beginning, even justification through Christ's righteousness alone, by shewing how we are originally in a sinful miserable state, how we derive this sin and misery from Adam, and how we are delivered and justified by Christ as a second Adam, At the same time he would confute those foolish and corrupt notions of the Jews, about their nation, and their law, which were very inconsistent with these doctrines. And he here endeavours to establish, at once, these two things in opposition to those Jewish notions, (I,) That it is our natural relation to Adam, and not to Abraham, which determines our native moral state ; and that, therefore, being natural children of Abraham, will not raake us by nature holy in the sight of God, since we are the natural seed of sinful Adara, Nor does the Gentiles being not descend ed frora Abraham, denominated them sinners, any more than the Jews, seeing both alike are descended from Adam, (2.) That the law of Moses is not the prirae and general law and rule of judgment for raankind, to condemn thera, and de- norainate thera sinners ; but that the state they are in with re gard to a higher, more ancient and universal law, determines them in general to be sinners in^the sight of God, and liable to be condemned as such. Which observation is, in many respects, to the apostle's purpose ; particularly in this respect, that if the Jews were convinced, that the law, which was the prime rule of condemnation, was given to all, was common to all mankind, and that all fell under condemnation through the violation of that law by the common father of all, both Jews and Gentiles, then they would be led more easily and naturally to believe, that the method oi justification, which God had established, also extended equally to all mankind : And that the Messiah, by whom we have this justification, is appointed, as Adam was for a common head to all, both Jews and Gentiles — The apos» tie aiming to confute the Jewish notion, is the principal occa sion of those words in the( 13th verse, " for until the law, sin was in the world ; but sin is not imputed, when there is np law," As to the import of that expression, even over ihem that had not sinned after the similititde of Adam's transgression, not only is the thing signified, in Dr. T.'s sense of it, not true ; or if it had been true, would have been impertinent, as has been shewn : But his interpretation is, otherwise, very much strained and unnatural. According to him, " by sinning after the similitude of Adam's transgression," is not meant any simi- voL, II. 64 506 OBIGINAL SIN, P. II. Ch. IV. litude ofthe act of sinning, nor of the command sinned against, nor properly any circumstance of the sin; but only the simi litude of a cfrcumstance of the command, viz. the threatening. with which it is attended. A far-fetched thing truly, to be called a similitude of sinning ! Besides, this expression in such a meaning, is only a needless, impertinent, and awkward repetition of the same thing, which it is supposed the apostle had observed in the foregoing verse, even after he had pro ceeded another step in the series of his discourse. As thus, in the foregoing verse the apostle had plainly laid down his argument, (as our author understands it) by which he would prove, that death did not come by personal sin, viz. because death reigned before any law, threatening death for personal sin, was in being : so that the sin then committed was against no law, threatening death for personal sin. Having laid this down, the apostle leaves this" part of his argument, and pro- eeeds another step, nevertheless death reigned from Adam to Moses : And then returns, in a strange unnatural irianner, and repeats that arguraent or assertion again, but only more ob scurely than before, in these words, even over them that had not sinned after the similitude of Adam's transgression ; i, e. over them that had not sinned against a law threatening death for personal sin. Which is just the same thing as ifthe apostle had said, " they that sinned before the law, did not sin against all law threatening death for personal sin ; for there was no such law for any to sin against at that time : Nevertheless death reigned at that time, even over such as did not sin against a law threatening death for personal sin." Which latter clause adds nothing to the premises, and tends nothing to illustrate what was said before, but rather to obscure and darken it. The particle (mi) even, when prefixed in this manner, is used to signify something additional, some advance in the sense or argument ; implying that the words following express some thing more, or express the same thing more fully, plainly, or forcibly. But to unite two clauses by such a particle, in such a manner, when there is nothing besides a flat repetition, with no superadded sense or force, but rather a greater uncer tainty and obscurity, would be very unusual, and indeed very absurd, I can see no reason why we should be dissatisfied with that explanation of this clause, which has more commonly been given, viz. That by them who have not sinned after the similitude of Adam's transgression, are meant infants; who, though they have indeed sinned in Adam, yet never sinned as Adam did, by actually transgressing in their own persons; unless it be, that this interpretation is too old, and too common. It was well understood by those to whom tbe apostle wrote, that vast numbers had died in infancy, within that period of Sect. ii. The true Scope of Rom. v, 12, &e. 597 which he speaks, particularly in the tirae of the deluge. And it would be strange, that the apostle should not have the case of such infants in his raind ; even supposing his scope were what our author supposes, and he had only intended to prove that death did not come on mankind for their personal sin. How directly would it have served the purpose of proving this, to have mentioned so great a part of mankind who are subject to death, and who, all know, never committed any sin in their own persons ? How much more plain and easy the proof of the point by that, than to go round about, as Dr, T, supposes, and bring in a thing so dark and uncertain as this, that God never would bring death on all mankind for personal sin, (^though they had personal sin) without an express revealed constitution ; and then to observe, that there was no revealed constitution of this nature from Adam to Moses, — which also seems to be an assertion without any plam evidence — and then to infer, that it must needs be so, that it could come only on occasion of Adam's sin, though not for his sin, or as any punishment of it ; which inference also is very dark and unintelligible. If the apostle in this place meant those who never sinned by their personal act, it is not strange that he should express this by their not sinning after the similitude of Adam's trans gression. We read of two ways of men being like Adam, or in which a similitude to him is ascribed to men : One is, being begotten or born in his image or likeness. Gen, v. 3, Another is, transgressing God's Covenant or law, like him, Hos. vi. 7. They like Adam, (so, in the Heb. and Vulg. Lot.) have trans gressed the covenant. Infants have the former similitude, but not the latter. And it was very natural, when the apostle would infer that infants become sinners by that one act and offence of Adam, to observe, that they had not renewed the act of sin themselves, by any second instance of a like sort. And such might be the state of language among Jews and Chris tians at that day, that the apostle might have no phrase more aptly to express this meaning. The manner in which the epi thets, personal and actual, are used and applied now in this case, is probably of later date, and more modern use. And the apostle having the case of infants in view, in this expression, makes it more to his purpose to mention death reigning before the law of Moses was given. For the Jews looked on all nations besides themselves as sinners, by virtue of their law ; being made so especially by the law of circum cision, given first to Abraham, and completed by Moses, making the want of circumcision a legal pollution, utterly disqualifying for the privileges of the sanctuary. This law, the Jews sup posed, made the very infants of the Gentiles to be sinners, pol luted and hatefiil to God ; they being uncircumcised, and born of uncircumcised parents. But the apostle proves against these 50S biiifiiNAL SIN. P. II. Ch. iV< riotidns of the Jews, that the nations of the world do not be come sinners by nature, and sinners from infancy, by virtue of ^Aeir law, in this manner, but by Adara's sin : Inasrauch as infants were treated as sinners long before the law of circura cision was given, as well as before they had coraraitted actual sin. What has been said, may, as I humbly conceive, lead us to that which is the true scope and sense of the apostle in these three verses ; which I will endeavour more briefly to represent in the following ^arapAra^e,. 12. Wherefore, "The things which I have largely as by one man sin en- insisted on, viz. -the evil that is in the tered into the world, world, the general wickednessi guilt and and death by sin; ruin of mankind, and the opposite good, and so death passed even justification and life, as only by npon oilmen, for that Christ, lead me to observe the likeness of iftZZ have sinned. the manner in which they are each of them introduced. For it Was by one man that the general corruption and guilt which I have spoken of, came into the world, and condemnation and death by sin : And this dreadful punishraent and ruin came on all mankind by the great law of works, originally established with man kind in their first father, and by his one offence, or breach of that law ; «ZZ thereby becoming sinners in God's sight, and ex posed to final destruction. 13. For until the " It is manifest that it was in this law sin was in ihe way the world became sinful and guilty ; world : But sin is and not in that way which the Jews sup- - not imputed when pose, viz. That their law, given by Moses there is no laiv, is the grand universal rule of righteous ness and judgment for mankind, and that it is by being Gentiles, uncircumcised, and aliens from that law, that the na tions of the world are constituted sinners, and unclean. For before the law of Moses was given, mankind were all looked up on by the great Judge as sinners, by corruption and guilt derived from Adam's violation of the original law of works; which shews, that the original universal rule of righteousness is not the law of Moses ; for if so, there would have been no sin imputed before that was given ; because sin is not imputed, when there fe no law. Sect. ii. The true Scope of Rom. v. 12, ^c. 500 " But that at that time sin was im- 14; Neveriheless, puted, and men were by their judge death reigned from reckoned as sinners, through guilt and Adam to MoSes, corruption derived from Adam, and con- even over them ihat demned for sin to death, the proper had not sinned af- punishment of sin, we have a plain proof ter the similitude of in that it appears in fact, all mankind, Adam's transgres- during that whole time which preceded sion. the law of Moses, were subjected to that temporal death, which is the visible in troduction and image of that utter destruction which sin deserves, not ex cepting even infants, who could be sin ners no other way than by virtue of Adam's transgression, having never in their own persons actually sinned as Adam did ; nor could at that time be made polluted by the law of Moses, as being uncircumcised, or born of uncir cumcised parents." Now, by way of reflection on the whole, I would observej that though there are two or three expressions in this para* graph, Rom. v. 12, &c. the design of which is attended with some difficulty and obscurity, as particularly iir the 13th and Llth verses, yet the scope and sense of the discourse in general is not obscure, but on the contrary very clear and manifest ; and so is the particular doctrine mainly taught in it. The apostle sets himself with great care to make it plain, and pre cisely to fix and settle the point he is upon. And the discourse is so framed, that one part of it greatly clears and fixes the meaning of other parts ; and the whole is determined by the clear connection it stands in with other parts of the epistle and by the manifest drift of all the preceding part of it. The doctrine of original sin is not only here taught, but most plainly, exphcitly, and abundantly taught. This doctrine is asserted, expressly or impliedly, in almost every verse, and in some of the verses several times. It is fully implied in that first expression in the 12th ver. By one man sin entered into the world. The passage implies, that sin became universal in the world ; as the apostle had before largely shewn it was • and not raerely (which would be a trifling observation) that one' raan, who was made first, sinned first, before other men sinned - or, that it did not so happen that many men began to sin just • together at the same moment. The latter part of the verse and death by sin, and so death passed upon all men, for that (or, if you will, unio which) all have sinned, shews that in the eye of the Judge of the worid, in Adam's first sin all sinned ; not only in .?ome .sort, but all sinned .so as fo be exposed to that 510 ORKJINAL SIN. P. II, Ch. IV. death, and final destruction, which is the proper wages of sin. The same doctrine is taught again twice over in the 14th verse. It is there observed, as a proof of this doctrine, that death rmgned over them which had not sinned after the similitfude of Adam's transgression, i. e. by their personal act ; and therefore coiild be exposed to death, only by driving guilt and pollution i- from Adam, in consequence of his sin. And it is taught again in those words, who is the figure of him that was io come. The resemblance lies very much in this circumstance, viz. our de riving sin, guilt, and punishment by Adam's sin, as we do righ teousness, justification, and the reward of life by Christ's obe dience ; for so the apostle explains himself The same doctrine is expressly taught again, ver. 15. Through the offence of one, many be dead. And again twice in the I6th verse, it was by one that sinned : i. e. It was by Adam, that guilt and punishraent (before spoken of) came on mankind : And in these words, judgment was by one to condemnation. It is again plainly and fully laid down in the 17th verse, by one man's offence death reigned by one. So again in the 18th verse, By the offence of one, judgment came upon all men to condemnation. Again very plainly in the 19th verse, " By one man's disobedience, many were made sinners." Here is every thing to determine and fix the meaning of all the important terms used ; As, the abundant use of them in all parts of the New Testament ; and especially in this apos tle's writings, which make up a very great part of the New Testament ; and his repeated use of them in this epistle in particular ; and in the former part of this very chapter ; and also the light that one sentence in this paragraph casts on another, which fully settles their meaning : As, with respect to the words justification,righteousness, and condemnation'; and above all, in regard of the word sin, which is the most important of all, with relation to the doctrine and controversy we are upon. Besides the constant use of this term every where else through the New Testament, through the epistles of this apostle, this epistle in particular, and even the former part of this chapter," it is often repeated in this very paragraph, and evidently used in the very sense that is denied to belong to it in the end of ver. 12. and ver. 19. though owned every where else. And its meaning is fully deterrained by the apostle varying the term ; using together with it, to signify the same thing, such a variety of other synonymous words, such as offence, transgression, dis obedience. And further, to put the matter out of all contro versy, it is particularly, expressly, and repeatedly distinguish ed from that which our opposers would explain, it by, viz. condemnation and death. And what is meant by sin entering into the world, in ver. 12, is determined by a like phrase of sin being in the world, in the next verse. — And that by the iSECT. II. The true Scope of Rom. x.Vi, ^c. 511 offence of one, so often spoken of here, as bringing death and condemnation on all, the apostle means the sin of one, de rived in its guilt and pollution to mankind in general (over and above all that has. been already observed) is determined by those words in the conclusion of this discourse, ver. ^0. " More over, the law entered, that the offence might abound : But where sin abounded, grace did much more abound." These words plainly show, that the offence spoken of so often, the offence of one raan, becarae the sin oi all. For when he says, TAe law entered, that the offence might abound, his raeaning cannot be, that the offence of Adara, raerely as Ais personally, should abound ; but, as it exists in its derived guilt, corrupt influence, and evil fruits, in the sin of raankind in general, even as a tree in its root and branches.* What further confirms the certainty of the proof oi o-rigi nal sin, which this place affords, is this, that the utmost art cannot pervert it to another sense. What a variety of the most artful methods have been used by the ei, emies of this doctrine, to wrest and darken this paragraph of holy writ, which stands so rauch in their way ; as it were, to force the bible to speak a language agreeable to their mind ! How have expressions been strained, words and phrases racked ! What strange figures of speech have been invented, and with violent hands thrust into the apostle's mouth ; and then with a bold counte nance and magisterial airs obtruded on the world, as from him ! But blessed be God, we have his words as he delivered them, and the rest of the same epistle, and his other writings to com pare with thera ; by which his meaning stands in too strong and glaring a light to be hid by any of the artificial mists which they labour to throw upon it. It is really no less than abusing the scripture and its read ers, to represent this paragraph as the most obscure oi all the places of scripture, that speak of the consequences of Adam's sin ; and to treat it as if there was need first to consider other places as more plain. Whereas, it is most manifestly a place in which these things are declared, the most plainly, parti cularly, precisely, and of set purpose, by that great apostle, who has raost fully explained to us those doctrines in general, which relate to the redemption by Christ, and the sin and mi sery we are redeeraed from. And it must be now left to the * The offence, according to Dr. T.'s explanation, does not abound by the laie at all really and truly, in any sense ; neither the sin, nor the punishment. For he says, " The meaning is not, that men should be made more wicked ; but, that men should be liable to death for every transgression." But after all, they are liable to no more deaths, nor to any worse deaths, if they are not more sinful : For they were to have punishments according to their desert before. Such as died, and went into another world before the law of Moses was given, ¦were punished acpording to their deserts; and the law, when il came, threatened no more. 512 - ORIGINAL siiv, P. lit. Ch, i. reader's judgment, whether the christian church has not pro ceeded reasonably, in looking on this as a place of scripture raost clearly and fully treating of these things, and in using its determinate sense as a help to settle the meaning of raany other passages of sacred writ. As this place in general is Very full and plain, so the doc trine of the corruption of nature, as derived from Adam, and also the imputation of his first sin, are both clearly taught in it. The imputation of Adam's one transgression, is indeed most directly and frequently asserted. We are here assured, that by one man's sin, death passed on all ; all being adjudged to this punishment, as having sinned (so it is implied) in that one man's sin. And it is repeated, over and over, that all are con demned, many are dead, many made sinners, 5(j eiiSGiKAL SIS. Part n, what depends on the arbitrary constitution of the Creator; who by his wise sovereign establishment so unites these suc cessive new effects, that he treats them as one, by communi cating to them like properties, relations, and circumstances ; and so leads us to regard and treat them as one. When 1 call this an arbitrary constitution, I mean that it is a con stitution which depends on nothing but the divine will; which divine will depends on nothing but the divine wisdom. In this sense, the whole cottrse of nature, with all that belongs to it, all its laws and methods, constancy and regularity, continu ance, and proceeding, is an arbitrary constitution. In this sense* the continuance of the very being of the world and all its parts, as well as the manner of continued being, depends entirely on an arbitrary constitution. For it does not at all necessa rily follow, that because there was sound, or light, or colour, or resistance, or gravity, or thought, or consciousness, or any other dependent thing the last moment, that therefore there shajl be the like at the next. All dependent existence whatsoever is in a constant flux, ever passing and returning ; renewed every moment, as the colours of bodies are every moment renewed by the light that shines upon them ; and all is constantly pro ceeding from GOD, as light from the sun. In him ive live, and move, and have our being. Thus it appears, if we consider matters strictly, there is no such thing as any identity or oneness in created objects, existing at different times, but what depends on God's sove reign constitution. And so it appears, that the objection we are upon, made against a supposed divine constitution where by Adam and his posterity are viewed and treated as one, in the manner and for the purposes supposed — as if it were not con sistent with truth, because no constitution can make those to be one, which are not one — is built on a false hypothesis : For it appears that a divine constitution is what makes truth, in af fairs of this nature. The objection supposes, there is a one ness in created beings, whence qualities and relations are deriv ed down from past existence, distinct from, and prior to any oneness that can be supposed to be founded on divine consti tution. Which is demonstrably false ; and sufficiently appears so from things conceded by the adversaries themselves ; And therefore the objection wholly falls to the ground. There are various kinds of identity and oneness found among created things, by which they become one in different manners, respects and degrees, and to various purposes ; several of which differences have been observed ; and every kind is ordered, regulated and limited, in every respect, by divine con stitution. Some things, existing in different times and places, are treated by their Creator as one in one respect, and others in another ; some are united for this communication, and others Chap, hi. The Imputation of Adam's sin stated. 557 for that ; but all according to the sovereign pleasure of the fountain of all being and operation. It appears, particularly, from what has been said, that all oneness, by virtue whereof pollution and guilt frora past wick edness are derived, depends entirely on a divine establishment. It is this, and this only, that must account for guilt and an evil taint on any individual soul, in consequence of a crime com mitted twenty or forty years ago, remaining still, and even to the end of the world and for ever. It is this that must account for the continuance of any such thing, and where, as conscious ness of acts that are past ; and for the continuance of all hab its, either good or bad : And on this depends every thing that can belong to personal identity. And all communications, de rivations, or continuation of qualities, properties, or relations, natural or moral, from what is past, as if the subject were one, depends on no other foundation. And I am persuaded that no solid reason can be given, why God — who constitutes all other created union or oneness ac cording to his pleasure, and for what purposes, communications, and effects he pleases — may not establish a constitution where by the natural posterity of Adara, proceeding from him, much as the buds and branches frora the stock or root of a tree, should be treated as one with hira, for the derivation, either of righte ousness and comraunion in rewards, or of the loss of righteous ness, and consequent corruption and guilt*, * I appeal to such as are not wont to content themselves with judging by a su- perficial appearance and view of things, but are habituated to examine things strictly and closely, that they may judge righteous judgment, whether on supposi tion that aU mankind had co-existed, in the manner mentioned before, any good rea son can be given, why their Creator might not, if he had pleased, have establish ed such an «nion between Adara and the rest of mankind, as was in that case sup posed. Particularly, if it had been the case, that Adam's posterity had actually, according to the law of nature, some how grown out of him, and yet remained con- tiguausa.nd UteraUy umted to him, as the branches to a tree, or the members of the body to the head ; and had aU, before the fall, existed together at the same time, though in different places, as the head and raerabers are in different places : In this case, who can deterraine that the author of nature might not, if^ it had pleased him, have established such an union between the root and branches of this complex being, as that all should constitute one moral whole ; so that by the law of union, there should be a communion in each -moral alteration, and that the heart of every branch should at the same moment participate with the heart ofthe roof, be conformed to it and concurring with it in all its affections and acts, and so jointly partaking, in its state, as a part ofthe same thing ? Why might not God, if he had pleased, have fixed such a kind of union as this, an union of the various parts of such a moral wliole, as well as many other unions, which he has actually fixed, ac cording to his sovereign pleasure ? And if he might, by his sovereign consti tution, have estabUshed such an union of the various branches of mankind, when existing in different places, I do not see why he might not also do the sarae, though they exist in different ti-mes. I know not why succession, or diversity of ti-me, should make any such constituted union more unreasonable, than diversity of place. The only reason why diversity of time can seem to make it unreasonable, is that difference of time shews there is no absolute identity ofthe things existing in those difierent times : But it shews this, I think, not at all more than the differ ence of the place of existence. 558 oUitiiNAL SIS, Part iv. As I said before, all oneness in created things, whence qualities and relations are derived, depends on a divine con stitution that is arbitrary in every other respect, excepting that it is regulated by divine wisdom. The wisdom which is exercised in these constitutions appears in these two things,— First, in a beautiful analogy and harmony with other laws or constitutions, especially relating to the same subject ; and se- , condly, in the good ends obtained, or useful consequences of such a constitution. If therefore there be any objection still lying against this constitution with Adam and his posterity, it must be, that it is not sufficiently wise in these respects. But what extreme arrogance would it be in us, to take upon us to act as judges of the beauty and wisdom of the laws and established constitutions of the suprerae Lord and Creator of the universe ? And not only so, but if this constitution in par ticular be well considered, its wisdom, in the two forementioned respects, raay easily be made evident. There is an appareht raanifold analogy to other constitutions and laws, established and raaintained through the whole system of vital nature in this lower world ; all parts of which, in all successions, are de rived frora the first of the kind, as frora their root or founfain ; each deriving frora thence all properties and qualities, that are proper to the nature and capacity of the species ; no deriva tive having any one perfection unless it be what is raerely cir- curastantial, but what was in its primitive. And that Adam's posterity should be without that original righteousness whicii Adam had lost, is also analogous to other laws and establish ments relating to the nature of mankind ; according to which, Adara's posterity have no one perfection of nature, in any kind, superior to what was in him, when the human race began to be propagated from hira. And as such a constitution was fit and wise in other res pects, so it was in this that follows. Seeing the divine consti tution concerning the manner of mankind coming into exist ence, was such as did so naturally unite them, and make thera in so many respects one, naturally leading them to a close union in society, and manifold intercourse, and mutual de pendence — things were wisely so established that all should naturally be in one and the same moral state ; and not in such exceeding different states, as that some should be per fectly innocent and holy, but others corrupt and wicked ; some needing a Saviour, but others needing none ; some in a con firraed state of perfect happiness, but others in a state of public conderanation to perfect and eternal misery ; sorae justly exposed to great calaraities in this world, but others by their innocence raised above all suffering. Such a vast diver sity of state would by' raeans have agreed with the natural and necessary constitution and unavoidable situation and cir- Chap, hi. The Imputation of Adam's sin slated. 659 cumstances of the world of mankind ; " all made of one blood to dwell on all the face of the earth," to be united and blended in society, and to partake together in the natural and comraon goods and evils of this lower world. Dr. T. urges* that sorrow and sharae are only for personal sin; and it has often been urged, that repentance can be for no other sin. To which I would say, that the use of words is very arbitrary : But that men's hearts should be deeply af fected with grief and humiliation before God, for the pollution and guilt which they bring into the world with them, I think is not in the least unreasonable. Nor is it a thing strange and un heard of, that men should be ashamed of things done by others, in whom they are nearly concerned. 1 am sure it is not un scriptural; especially when they are justly looked upon in the sight of God, who sees the disposition of their hearts, as fully consenting ahd concurring. From what has been observed it raay appear there is no sure ground to conclude, that it raust be an absurd and impos sible thing for the race of mankind truly to partake of the sin of the first apostacy, so as that this, in reality and propriety, shall become their sin ; by virtue of a real union between the root and branches of mankind (truly and properly avail ing to such a consequence) established by the author of the whole system of the universe ; to whose establishments are owing all propriety and reality of union, in any part of that system ; and by virtue of the full consent of the hearts of Adam's posterity to that first apostacy. And therefore the sin of the apostacy is not theirs, merely because God imputes it to them ; but it is truly and properly theirs, and on that ground God im putes it to them. By reason of the established union between Adam and his posterity, the case is far otherwise between him and them, than it is between distinct parts or individuals of Adara's race betwixt whom is no such constituted union : As between children and other ancestors. Concerning whora is apparently to be understood that place, Ezek, xvui, 1 — ^20t where God re proves the Jews for the use they raade of that proverb, " The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children's teeth are set on edge ;" and tells thera, that hereafter they shall no raore have occasion to use this proverb ; and that if a son sees the wickedness of his /a^Aer, and sincerely disapproves it and avoids it, and he himself is righteous, " he shall not die for the iniquity ofhis father ; that all souls, both the soul ofthe father and the son are his, and that therefore the son shall not bear the iniquity of his father, nor the father bear the iniquity of the son ; but the soul that sinneth, it shall die ; that the righteousness of the * Page 14. t Ivhich Dr. T. alledges, p. 10, 11 S. 660 ORIGINAL HIN, PaRT IV- lighteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon hira," The thing denied, is communion in the guilt and punishment of the sins of others, that are distinct parts of Adam's race ; and expressly in that case, where there is no consent and concurrence, but a sincere disapprobation of the wickedness of ancestors. It is declared that children who are adult and come to act for theraselves, who are righteous, and do not approve of, but sincerely conderan the wickedness of then: fathers, shall not be punished for their disapproved and avoided iniquities. The occasion of what is here said, as well as the design and plain sense, shews, that nothing is in tended in the least degree inconsistent with what has been sup posed concerning Adam's posterity sinning and falling in his apostacy. The occasion is, the people's raurmuring at God's methods under the Mosaic dispensation ; agreeable to that in Levit, xxvi, 39, " And they that are left of you shall pine away in their iniquity in their enemies' land, and also in the iniquities of their fathers shall they pine away with them :" and other parallel places, rfespecting external judgments, which were the punishments most plainly threatened, and chiefly insisted on, under that dispensation (which was, as it were, an external and carnal covenant) and particularly the people suffering such terrible judgments in Ezekiel's time, for the sins of Manasseh j according to what God says by Jeremiah, (Jer. xv. 4.) and agreeable to what is said in that confession. Lam. v. 7. " Our fathers have sinned and are not, and we have borne their ini quities !" In what is said here, there is a special respect to the gospel-dispensation ; as is greatly confirmed by comparing this place with Jer. xxxi, 29 — ^31. Under which dispensation, the righteousness of God's dealings with raankind would be raore fully manifested, in the clear revelation then to be raade of the method of God's judgment, by which the^^naZ state of wicked men is determined ; which is not according to the behaviour of their particular ancestors ; but every one is dealt with according to the sin of his own wicked heart, or sinful nature and prac tice. The affair oi derivation ofthe natural corruption of man kind in general, and of their consent to, and participation of, the primitive and common apostacy, is not in the least inter meddled with, by any thing meant in the true scope and design of this place in Ezekiel. On the Vvhole, if any do not like the philosophy, or the metaphysics (as some perhaps raay choose to call it) raade use of in the foregoing reasonings ; yet I cannot doubt, but that a proper consideration of what is apparent and undeniable in fact, with respect to the dependence ofthe state and course of things in the universe on the sovereign constitutions of the supreme Author and Lord of all — who "gives account to none Chap, n I, The Imputation of Adam's sin stated. 561 of any of his matters, and whose ways are past finding out" — will be sufiicient, with persons of comraon raodesty and sobriety, to stop their raonths frora raaking pereraptory decisions against the justice of God, respecting what is so plainly and fully taught in his holy word, concerning the derivation of depravity and guilt from Adam to his posterity. This is enough, one would think, for ever to silence such bold expressions as these — " If this be just, — if the scriptures teach such doctrine, &c, then the scriptures are of no use — un derstanding is no understanding, — and, what a God mus tAe be, that can thus curse innocent creatures ! — Is this thy God, O Christian .'" — &c. &:c. It raay not be iraproper here to add something (by way of supplement to this chapter, in which we have had occasion to say so rauch about the imputation of Adara's sin) concerning the opinions of two divines, of no inconsiderable note araong the dissenters in England, relating to a partial imputation of Adam's first sin. One of thera supposes, that this sin, though truly imputed to INFANTS, SO that thereby they are exposed to a proper -punishment, yet is not imputed to them in such a degree, as that upon this account they should be liable to eternal punish ment, as Adam himself was, but only to temporal death, or annihilation ; Adara hiraself, the iramediate actor, being raade infinitely wiore guilty by it, than his posterity. On which I would observe ; that to suppose God imputes not all the guilt of Adam's sin, but only some little part of it, relieves nothing but one's imagination. ~ To think of poor little infants bearing such torments for Adam's sin as they soraetiraes do in this world, and these torments ending in death and annihilation, raay sit easier on the imagination, than to conceive of their suffering eternal misery for it. But it does not at all relieve one's reason. There is no rule of reason that can be supposed to lie against imputing a sin in the whole of it, which was cora raitted by one, to another who did not personally corarait it, but what will also he against its being so iraputed and punished in part. For all the reasons (if there be any) Ue against the imputation ; not the quantity or degree of what is imputed. If there be any rule of reason, that is strong and good, lying against a proper derivation or coraraunication of guilt from one that acted, to another that did not act ; then it lies against all that is of this nature. The force of the reasons brought against iraputing Adam's sin to his posterity (if there be any force in them) lies in this. That Adam and his posterity are not one. But this lies as properiy against charging a part of the guilt as the whole. For Adam's posterity, by not being the fame with him, had no more hand in a to«ie of what was done than the whole. They were as absolutely free from being VOL, II. '*¦ S&i omoiNAL SIN. Part. IV concerned in that act partly, as they were wholly. And there is no reason to be brought, why one man's sin cannot be justly reckoned to another's account, who was not then in beingi in the whole of it ; but what will as properly lie against its being reckoned to him in any part, so as that he should be subject to any condemnation or punishment on that account. If those reasons are good, all the difference is this ; that to bring a great punishraent on infants for Adam's sin, is a great aet of injustice, and to bring a comparatively smaller punishment is a smaller act of injustice ; but not, that this is not as truly and demonstra bly an act of injustice as-the other. To illustrate this by an instance soraething parallel. It is used as an argument why I may not exact from one of ray neighbours what was due to me from another, thaVhe and my debtor are not ihe same ; and that their concerns, interests and properties are entirely distinct. Now if this argument be good, it lies as truly against my demanding from him a part of the debt as the whole. Indeed it is a greater act of injustice for me to take from hira the whole of it, than a part ; but not more truly and certainly an act of injustice. The other divine thinks there is truly an imputation of Adara's sin, so that infants cannot be looked upon as innocent creatures ; yet seeras to think it " not agreeable to the perfec tions of God," to make the state of infants in another world worse than a state of non-existence. But this to me appears plainly a giving up of that grand point of imjiutation, both in whole and in part. For it supposes it to be not right for God to bring any evil on a child of Adam, which is innocent as to per sonal sin, without paying for it, or balancing it with good ; so that still the state of the child shall be as good as could be de manded in justice, in case of mere innocence. Which plainly supposes, that the child is not exposed to any proper punish ment at all, or is not at all in debt to divine justice, on account of Adam's sin. For if the child were truly in debt, then surely justice might take something from him, without paying for it, or without ^i«iM^ that which raakes its state as good, as raere inno cence could in justice require, ^If he owes the suffering of some punishment, then there is no need that justice should re quite the infant for suffering that punishment ; or make up for It, by conferring some good that shall countervail it, and in ef fect remove and disannul it ; so that, on the whole, good and evil shall be at even balance, yea, so that the scale of good shall preponderate. If it is unjust in a judge, to order any quantity of money to be taken from another, without paying hira again, and fully making it up to him, it must be because he had justly forfeited none at all. It seems to me pretty raanifest, that none can, in good con sistence with themselves, own a real imputation of the guilt of Chap, IV, Other Objections answered. 563 Adam's first sin to his posterity, without owning that they are justly treated as sinners, truly guilty, and children of wrath, on that account ; nor unless they allow a just imputation of the whole of the evil of that transgression ; at least all that per tains to the essence of that act, as a full and complete violation ofthe covenant which God had established ; even as much as if each one of mankind had the like covenant established with him singly, and had by the like direct and full act of rebellion, vio lated it for himself CHAP, IV. "Wherein several other Objections are considered. DR.. T, objects against Adara's posterity being supposed to corae into the world /under a forfeiture of God's blessing, and subject to his curse through his sin, — That at the res toration of the world after the flood, God pronounced equi valent or greater blessings on Noah and his sons, than lie did on Adam at his creation, when he said, "be fruitful and multiply and replenish the earth, and have dominion over the fish of the sea," &c.* — To this I answer in the following re raarks, 1, As it has been already shewn, that in the threatening denounced for Adara's sin, there was nothing which appears inconsistent with the continuance of this present life for a sea son, or with propagating his kind ; so for the like reason, there appears nothing in that threatening, upon the supposition that it reached Adam's posterity, inconsistent with enjoying the teraporal blessings of the present life, as long as this is con tinued ; even those teraporal blessings which God pronounced on Adara at his first creation. For it must be observed, that the blessings which God pronounced on Adara when he created him, and before the trial of his obedience, were not the sarae with the blessings which were suspended on his obedience. The blessings thus suspended, were the blessings of eternal life; which, if he had maintained his integrity through his trial, would have been pronounced upon hira afterwards ; when God as his judge should have given him his reward, God might indeed, if he had pleased, immediately have deprived him of life, and of all temporal blessings given him before. But those blessings pronounced on him beforehand, were not the things for the obtaining of which his trial was appointed. These were reserved till the issue of his trial should be seen, and then to hc * See page 82, &c. .S. 564 oniGiNAL SIN. Part iv. pronounced in the blessed sentence, which would have been passed upon him by his judge, when God carae to decree to hira his reward for his approved fidehty. The pronouncing of these latter blessings on a degenerate race, that had fallen under the threatening denounced, would indeed (without a re deraption; have been inconsistent with the, constitution which had been established. But giving them the former kind of bles sings, which were not the things suspended on the trial, or de pendent on his fidelity (and these to be continued for a season) was not at all inconsistent therewith. 2, It is no more an evidence of Adara's posterity being not included in the threatening denounced for his eating the forbidden fruit, that. they still have the temporal blessings of fruitfulness, and a dorainion over the creatures continued to thera, than it is an evidence of Adara being not included in that threatening himself, that he had these blessings continued to him, was fruitful, and had dominion over the creatures after his fall, equally with his posterity, 3, There is good evidence that the benedictions God pro nounced on Noah and his posterity, were granted on a new foundation; a dispensation diverse from any grant, proraise, or revelation which God gave to Adara, antecedently to his fall ; even on the foundation of the covenant of grace establish ed in Christ Jesus ; a dispensation, the design of which is to deliver raen from the curse that came upon them by Adam's sin, and to bring them to greater blessing than ever he had, — These blessings were pronounced on Noah and his seed, on the same foundation whereon afterwards the blessing was pro nounced on Abraham and his seed, which included both spiri tual and temporal benefits, — Noah had his narae prophetically given hira by his father Lamech, because by him and his seed deliverance should be obtained from the curse which came by Adara's fall. Gen, v, 29, " And he called his name Noah (i, e. Rest) saying. This same shall corafort us concerning our work, and toil of our hands, because of the ground which the Lord hath cursed," Pursuant to the scope and intent of this pro phecy (which indeed seeras to respect the sarae thing with the prophecy in Gen, iii. 15.) are the blessings pronounced on Noah after the flood. There is this evidence of these blessings be ing conveyed through the channel of the covenant of grace, and by the redemption through Jesus Christ, that they were obtained by sacrifice ; or were bestowed as the effect of God's favour to mankind, which was in consequence of " smelling a sweet savour" in the sacrifice which Noah offered. And it is very evident by the epistle to the Hebrews, that the ancient sacrifices never obtained the favour of God, but only by virtue of the relation they had to the sacrifice of Christ. — Now that Noah and his faraily had been so wonderfully saved from the »-^HAP. IV, Other Objections answered. 565 wrath of God, which had destroyed the rest of the world, and the world was as it were restored from a ruined state, there was a proper occasion to point to the great salvation to come by Christ : As it was a coraraon thing for God, on occasion of sorae great temporal salvation of his people, or restoration from a low and miserable state, to renew the intimations of the great spiritual restoration of the world by Christ's Re demption.* God deals vvith the generality of mankind in their present state, far differently, on occasion of the redemption by Jesus Christ, from what he otherwise would do : For, be ing capable subjects of saving raercy, they have a day of patience and grace, and innuraerable temporal blessings be stowed on thera ; which, as the Apostle signifies (Acts xiv, 17,) are testiraonies of God's reconcileableness to sinful raen, to put them upon seeking after God. But beside the sense in which the posterity of Noah in general partake of these blessings of dominion over the crea tures, Szc. Noah himself^ and all such of his posterity as have obtained like precious faith with that exercised by hira in offer ing his sacrifice, which raade it a sweet savour, and by which it procured these blessings, have dominion over the creatures, through Christ, in a more excellent sense than Adam in inno cency ; as they are " raade kings and priests unto God, and reign with Christ," and " all things are theirs," by a covenant of Grace, They partake with Christ in that " dorainion over the beasts of the earth, the fowls of the air, and fishes of the sea," spoken of in the 8th Psaira ; which is by the Apostle in terpreted of Christ's dorainion over the world, (I Cor, .w, 27, and Heb, ii, 7,) And the time is coming, when the greater part of the posterity of Noah, and each of his sons, shall partake of this more honourable and excellent dominion over the crea tures, through hira " in whom all the families of the earth shall be blessed." Neither is there any need of supposing that these blessings have their raost coraplete accoraplishment, till many ages after they were granted, any more than the blessing on Ja- phet, expressed in those words, " God shall enlarge Japhet, and he sliall dwell in the tents of Shem." But that Noah's posterity have such blessings given them through the great Redeemer, who suspends and removes the curse which came through Adara's sin, surely is no arguraent, that they originally, as in their natural state, are not under the curse. That raen have blessings through grace, is no evi dence of their being not justly exposed to the curse by nature; - but it rather argues the contrary. For if they did not deserve the curse, they would not depend on grace and redemption for * It may be noted, that Dr. T. liimself signifies it as hii muid, tliat these blessings on Noah were on account of the covenant of grace, p. 84, 90, 91, 93, S. 566 OEIGINAL SIN. PaRT IV, the removal of it, and for bringing thera into a state of favour with God. Another objection, which our author strenuously urges against the doctrine of original sin, is, that it disparages the di vine goodness in giving us our being : which we ought to re ceive with thankmlness, as a great gift of God's beneficence, and look upon as the first, original and fundaraental fruit of the divine liberality.* To this I answer in the following observations : I. This argument is built on the supposed truth of a thing in dispute ; and so is a begging of the question. It is built on this supposition, that we are not properly looked upon as one with our flrst father, in the state wherein God at first created him, and in his fall from that state. If we are so, it becomes the whole race to acknowledge God's great goodness to them, in the state wherein raankind was made at flrst ; in the happy state they were then in, and the fair opportunity they then had of obtaining confirmed and eternal happiness ; and to acknow ledge it as an aggravation of their apostacy ; and to humble themselves, that they were so ungrateful as to rebel against their good Creator, Certainly we may all do this with as much reason, as the people of Israel in Dajniel's and Neherai ah's times, who did with thankfulness acknowledge God's great goodness to their fathers, many ages before ; and in their con fessions they bewailed, and took shame to themselves, for the sins committed by their fathers, notwithstanding such great goodness, (See the 9th chapter of Daniel, and the ixtb of Nehemiah,) 2, If Dr, T, would imply in his objection, that it doth not consist with the goodness of God, to give mankind being in a state of misery, whatever was done before by Adam, whether he sinned or did not sin, I reply, if it be justly so ordered, that there should be a posterity of Adam which must be looked upon as one with him ; then it is no more contrary to God's attribute of goodness to give being to his posterity in a state of punishment, than to continue the being of the same wicked and guilty person, who has made himself guilty, in a state of punishment. The giving of being, and the continuing of be ing, are both alike the work of God's power and will, and both are alike fundamental to all blessings of man's present and future existence. And if it be said, it cannot be justly so ordered, that there should be a posterity of Adam which should be looked upon as one with him, thig is begging the question, 3. If our author would have us to suppose that it is con trary to the attribute of goodness for God, in any case, by an immediate aet of his power, to cause existence, and to cause * Page 25G, 357, 260, 71—74. S. Chap. iv. Other Objections answered. 567 new existence, which shall be an exceeding miserable exist ence, by reason of exposedness to eternal ruin ; then his own scheme must be supposed contrary to the attribute of God's goodness : For he supposes, that God will raise raulti tudes frora the dead at the last day (which will be giving new existence to their bodies, and to bocUly life and sense) in order only to their suffering eternal destruction. 4. Notwithstanding we are so sinful and miserable as we are by nature, yet we may have great reason to bless God, that he has given us our being under so glorious a dispensation of grace through Jesus Christ ; by which we have a happy oppor tunity to be delivered from this sin and misery, and to obtain unspeakable eternal happiness. And because through our own wicked inclinations, we are disposed so to neglect and abuse this mercy, as to fail of final benefit by it, this is no reason why we ought not to be thankful for it, even according to our author's own sentiments. What (says he*) if the whole world lies in wickedness, and few therefore shall be saved ? Have raen no reason to be thankful, because they are wicked and ungrateful, and abuse their being and God's bounty ? Suppose our own evil inclinations do withhold us, viz. frora seeking after happiness, of which under the light of the gospel we are placed within the nearer and easier reach ; " suppose the whole Christian world should lie in wickedness, and but few Christians should be saved, is it therefore certainly true, that we cannot reasona bly thank God for the gospel ?" Well, and though the evil in clinations, which hinder our seejdng and obtaining happiness by so glorious an advantage, are what we are born with, yet if those inclinations are our fault or sin, that alters not the case ; and to say they are not our sin, is still begging the question. Yea, it will follow frora several things asserted by our author, that notwithstanding raen are born in such circumstances as that they are under a very great improbability of ever becoraing righteous, yet they raay have reason to be thankful for their be ing. Thus particularly, Dr. T. asserts, that all men have rea son of thankfulness for their being ; and yet he supposes that the heathen world, taken as a collective body, were dead in sin, and could not deliver or help themselves, and therefore stood in necessity of the Christian dispensation. And not only so, but he supposes that the Christian world is now at length brought to the like deplorable and helpless circurastances, and needs a new dispensation for its relief According to these things, the world in general, not only forraerly but even at this day, are dead in sin, and helpless as to their salvation ; and therefore the generality of thera that are born into it, are much raore likely to perish, than otherwise, till the new dis pensation comes: And yet he supposes we all have reason to be thankful for our being. Yea, further still, I think ac- * Page 72, 73. S. 568 ORIGINAL SIN. pART IV- cording to our author's doctrine, men may have great reason to be thankful to God for bringing thera into a state, which yet, as the case is, is attended with misery, as its certain con sequence. As with respect to God's raising the wicked to life at the last day ; which he supposes, is in itself a great benefit, procured by Christ, and the wonderful grace of God through him : And if it be the fruit of God's wonderful grace, surely raen ought to be thankflil for that grace, and praise God for it. Our doctrine of original sin, therefore, no more dispa rages God's goodness in raan's forraation in the worab, than his doctrine disparages God's goodness in their resurrection from the grave. Another argument, which Dr. T, makes use of, against the doctrine of original sin, is what the scripture reveals of the process of the day oi judgment ; which represents the judge as dealing with raen singly and separately, rendering to every raan according to his deeds, and according to the iraprovement he has made of the particular powers and talents God has giv en him personally *, But this objection will vanish, if we consider what is the end or design of that pubhc judgment. Now this will not be, that God raay find out what raen are, or what punishraent or, reward is proper for them, or in order to the passing of a right judgment of these things within himself, which is the end of human trials ; but it is to raanifest what men are to their own consciences, and to the world. As the day of judgment is called " the day of the revelation of the righteous judgment of God ;" in order to this God will make use of evidences or proofs. But the proper evidences of the wickedness of men's hearts (the true seat of all wickedness) both as to corruption of nature, and additional pollution and guilt, are men's works. The special end of God's public judgment will be, to make a proper, perfect, open distinction araong raen, rightly to state and manifest their difference one frora another, in order to that separation and difference in the eternal retribution that is to follow : and this difference will be raade to appear by their personal works. There are two things with regard to which raen will be tried, and openly distinguished by the perfect judgraent of God at the last day ; according to the twofold real distinction subsisting among mankind : viz. (I) The difference of state ; that primary and grand distinction, whereby all raankind are divided into two sorts, therighteous and the wicked, (2,) That secondary distinction, whereby both sorts differ from others in the same general state, in degrees of additional fruits of righte ousness and wickedness. Now the Judge, in order to manifest both these, will judge raen according to their personal works. But to inquire at the day of judgment, whether Adara sinned or * Page 65, 66, 111, S. Chap. XV. Other Objections answered. 569 no, or whether men are to be looked upon as one with him, and so partakers in his sin, is what in no respect tends to mani fest either of these distinctions. 1. The first thing to be manifested, will be the state that each man is in, with respect to the grand distinction of the whole world of mankind into righteous and wicked; or, in nietaphorical language, loheat and tares ; or, the children ofthe kingdom oi Christ, and the children ofthe wicked one; the lat ter, the head of the apostacy ; but the forraer, the head of the restoration and recovery. The Judge, in raanifesting this, will prove men's hearts by their works, in such as have had oppor tunity to perform any works in the body. The evil works of the children of the wicked, one will be the proper manifestation and evidence or proof of whatever belongs to the general state of such ; and particularly they will prove that they belong to the kingdom of the great deceiver, and lieajd of the apostacy, as they will demonstrate the exceeding corruption of their nature, and full consent of their hearts to the common apostacy ; and also that their hearts never relinquished the apostacy, by a cordial adherence to Christ, the great restorer. The Judge will also make use of the ^ood works oithe righte ous to shew their interest in the rederaption of Christ ; as there by will be manifested the sincerity of their hearts in their ac ceptance of, and adherence to the Redeeraer and his righteous ness. And in thus proving the state of men's hearts by their actions, the circumstances of those actions must necessarily come into consideration, to raanifest the true quality of their actions ; as, each one's talents, opportunities, advantages, light, motives, <^c. 2. The other thing to be raanifested, will be that secondary distinction, wherein particular persons, both righteous and wicked, differ frora one another in the degree of secondary good or evil ; the degree of evil fruit, which is additional to the guilt and corruption of the whole body of apostates and enemies ; and the degree of personal goodness and good fruit, whicii is a secondary goodness, with respect to the righteous ness and merits of Christ, which belong to all by that sincere faith manifested in all. Of this also each one's works, with their circumstances, opportunities, talents, &c. will be the proper evidence. As to the nature and aggravations of the general aposta cy by Adam's sin, and also the nature and sufficiency of the redemption by Jesus Christ, the great restorer, though both these will have vast influence on the eternal state which men shall be adjudged to, yet neither of thera will properly, belong to the trial men will be the subjects of at that .day, in order to the manifestation of their state, wherein they are distinguish ed one from another. They will belong to the business of that VOL, II. 72 570 ORIGINAL SIN. PaRT IV. day no otherwise, than the manifestation of the great truths of religion in general ; as the nature and perfections of God, the dependence of mankind on God, as their creator and preserver, &c. Such truths as these will also have great influence on the eternal state to which men will then be adjudged, as they aggravate the guilt of raan's wickedness, and raust be consi dered in order to a due estiraate of Christ's righteousness, and men's personal virtue ; yet being of general and equal concernment, will not properly belong to the trial of particular persons. Another thing urged by our author particularly against the imputation of Adam's sin, is this : " Though, in scripture, action is frequently said to be imputed, reckoned, accounted to a person, it is no other than his own act and deed,"* In tbe sarae place he cites a nuraber of places of scripture where these words are used, which he says are all that he can find in the bible. But we are no way concerned with this arguraent at pre sent, any further than it relates to iraputation of sin, or sinful action. Therefore all that is in the arguraent which relates to the present purpose, is this : That the word is so often ap plied in scripture to signify God's imputing of personal sin, but never once to his iraputing of Adara's sin, — So often! — How often ? — But twice. There are but two of all those places which he reckons up, that have any reference to God imput ing sin to any person, where there is any evidence that only personal sin is raeant; (Levit, xvii, 3, 4, and 2 Tim, iv. 16.) All therefore that the argument comes to, is this : Tbat the word impute, is applied twice in scripture to the case of God iraputing sin, and neither of those tiraes to signify the imput ing of Adam's sin, but both tiraes it has reference to personal sin ; therefore Adam's sin is not iraputed to his posterity.— And this is to be noted, that one of these two places, even that in Levit, xvii, 3, 4, does not speak of iraputing the act com mitted, but another not coramitted. The words are, " What man soever there be of the house of Israel, that killeth an ox or lamb or goat in the carap, or that killeth it out of the camp, and bringeth it not unto the door of the tabernacle of the con gregation, to offer an offering unto the Lord, before the taber nacle of the Lord, blood shall be imputed unto that man ; he hath shed blood :. that man shall be cut off from among his people," i. e. plainly, murder shall be imputed to hira : He shall be put to death for it, and therein punished with the same severity as if he had slain a man. It is plain by Isai. Ixvi. 3. that, in some cases, shedding the blood of beasts in an unlaw ful manner, wjis imputed to them as if they slew a man. *r^ge3,&cv 105. S. Chap. iv. Other Objections answered. 571 fi.^ But whether it be so or not, although in both these places me word impute be applied to personal sin, and to the very act or although this could be said of all the places which our author reckons up ; yet that the word impute is never ex pressly applied to Adam's sin, does no more argue that it is not imputed to his posterity, than it argues that pride, unbe- Uet, lying, thefl;, oppression, persecution, fornication, adultery, sodomy, perjury, idolatry, and innumerable other particular moral evils are never imputed to the persons that coraraitted thera, or ra whora they are ; because the word impute, though so often used in scripture, is never applied to any of these kinds of wickedness. I know not what can be said here, except one of these two things: That though these sins are not expressly said to be imputed, yet other words aie used that do as plainly and certainly imply that they are iraputed, as if it were said so expressly. Very well, and so I say with respect to the iraputa tion of Adam's sin. The thing raeant by the word impute, may be as plainly and certainly expressed by using other words, as if that word were expressly used ; and more certainly, because the words used instead of it, raay amount to an explanation of this word. And this, I think, is the very case here. Though the word impute is not used with respect to Adara's sin, yet it is said, cdl have sinned ; which, respecting infants, can be true only of their sinning by his sin. And, it is said, " by his disobedience raany were made sinners ;" and, "judgment and condemnation carae upon all by that sin ;" and that by this means death, the wages of sin, passed on all men, &,c. Which phrases amount to full and precise explanations of the word impute; and therefore do raore certainly determine the point really insisted on. Or perhaps it will be said, with respect to those personal sins before-mentioned, pride, unbelief, &c. it is no arguraent they are not imputed to those who are .guilty of them, that the very word impute, is not applied to thera ; for the word itself is rarely used ; not one tirae in a hundred, and perhaps five hundred, of those wherein the thing raeant is plainly implied, or may be certainly inferred. Well, and the same also raay be applied likewise, with respect to Adara's sin. It is probable Dr. T. intends an argument against original sin, by that which he says in opposition to what R. R. suggests of " children discovering the principles of iniquity, and seeds of sin, before they are capable of moral action,"* viz. That " little children are made patterns of humihty, meekness and innocence." (Matth. xviii. 3. 1 Cor. xiv. 20. and Psal. cxxxi, 2.) * Page 77,78, ». •¦ .572 ORIGINAL SIN, pART IV. But when the utmost is made of this, th6re can be no shadow of reason to understand more by these texts, than that little children are recoraraended as patterns in regard of a negative virtue, innocence with respect to the exercises and fruits of sin, harralessness as to the hurtful effects of it ; and that image oi meekness and humility arising from this, in con junction with a natural tenderness of mind, fear, self-diffi dence, yieldableness, and confidence in parents and others older than themselves. And so they are recommended as patterns of virtue no more than doves, which are an harmless sort of creatures, and have an image of the virtues of meek ness and love. Even according to Dr. T.'s own doctrine, ho more can be made of it than this : For his scheme will not ad mit of any such thing as positive virtue, or virtuous disposition in infants ; he insisting (as was observed before) that virtue must he the fruit of thought and reflection. But there can be no thought and reflection that produces positive virtue in chil dren not yet capable of moral action ; and it is such children he speaks of. And that little children have a negative virtue or innocence, in relation to the positive acts and hurtful effects of vice, is no argument that they have not a corrupt nature within them : For let their nature be ever so corrupt, yet surely it is no wonder that they be not guilty of positive wicked ac tion, before they are capable of any moral action at all. A young vipier has a malignant nature, though incapable of doing a malignant action, and at present appearing a harraless creature. Another objection, which Dr. T. and some others offer against this doctrine, is, " That it pours contempt upon the hu man nature."* But their declaiming on this topic is like addressing the affections and conceits of children, rather than rational arguing with men. It seems this doctrine is not complaisant enough, I art! sensible it is not suited to the taste of sorae, who are so very delicate (to say no worse) that they can bear nothing but compliment and flattery. No conterapt is by this doctrine cast ¦upon the noble faculties and capacities of raan's nature, or the exalted business, and divine and immortal happiness of Virhich he is made capable. And as to speaking ill of man's present moral state, 1 presume it will not be denied, that shame belongs to them who are truly sinful ; and to suppose that this is not the native character of mankind, is still but meanly begging the question. If we, as We come into the world, are truly siiiful, and consequently miserable, he acts but a friendly part to us, who endeavours fully to discover and manifest our disease. Whcfeas, on the contrary, he acts an unfriendly part, who to his utmost hides it from us ; and so, in effect, does I- Page 74, 75. S. ChaIp. IV. Other Objections considered. 573 what in hira lies to prevent our seeking a reraedy frora that, which if not remedied in time, must bring us finally to shame and everlasting contempt, and end in perfect and remediless de struction hereafter. Another objection, which some have made against this doctrine, much hke the former, is, that it tends to " beget in us an ill opinion of our fellow-creatures, and so to promote ill- nature and mutual hatred. To which I would say, if it.be truly so, that we all come sinful into the world, then our heartily acknowledging it tends to promote humility : But our disowning that sin and guilt which truly belongs to us, and endeavouring to persuade our selves that we are vastly better than in truth we are, tends to a foolish self-exaltation and pride. And it is manifest, by reason, experience, and the word of God, that pride is the chief source of all the contention, mutual hatred, and ill-will which are so prevalent in the world ; and that nothing so effec tually promotes the contrary tempers and deportments, as humility. This doctrine teaches us to think no worse of others than of ourselves : It teaches us that we are all, as we are by nature, companions in a miserable helpless condition ; which under a revelation ofthe divine raercy, tends to promote mutual compassion. And nothing has a greater tendency to promote those amiable dispositions of raercy, forbearance, long-suffering, gentleness and forgiveness, than a sense of our own extrerae unworthiness and raisery, and the infinite need we have ofthe divine pity, forbearance and forgiveness, together with a hope of obtaining mercy. If the doctrine which teaches that mankind are corrupt by nature, tends to promote ill-will, why should not Dr. T.'s doctrine tend to it as much ? For he teaches us, that the generality of mankind are very wicked, having made themselves so by their own free choice, without any necessity : which is a way of becoming wicked, that ren ders men truly worthy of resentraent ; but the other, not at all, even according to his own doctrine. Another exclamation against this doctrine is, that it tends to " hinder corafort and joy, and to promote raelancholy and gloorainess of mind,"* To which I shall briefly say, doubtless, supposing men are really become sinful, and so exposed to the displeasure of God, by whatever means, if they once come to have their eyes opened, and are not very stupid, the reflection on their case will tend to make thera sorrowful ; and it is fit it should. Men with whora this is the case may well be filled with sorrow, till they are sincerely willing to forsake their sins, and turn to God, But there is nothing in this doctrine that in the least * Page 231, and other some places. 574 ORIGINAL SIN, PaRT IV. stands inthe way of corafort and exceeding joy, to such as find in their hearts a sincere willingness wholly to forsake all sin, and give their hearts and whole selves to Christ, and coraply with the gospel-raethod of salvation by him. Another thing objected is, that to make men believe that wickedness belongs to their very nature, tends to encourage thera in siw, and plainly to lead thera to all manner of iniquity ; because they are taught that sin is natural, and therefore ne cessary and unavoidable.'"' But if this doctrine, which teaches that sin is natural to US, does also at the same time teach us, that it is never the better, or less to be condemned, for its being natural, then it does not at all encourage sin, any raore than Dr, T,'s doc trine encourages wickedness when it is become inveterate ; who teaches that such as by custom have contracted strong habits of sin, are unable to help themselves,t And is it reason able to represent it a^ encouraging a man in boldly neglecting and wilfully continuing in his disease, without seeking a cure, to tell hira of his disease, to shew hira that it is real and very fatal, and what he can never cure himself of ; yet withal directing hira to a great Physician, who is sufficient for his restora.tion ? But for a raore particular answer to what is objected against the doctrine of our natural impotence and inability, as being an encourageraent to go on in sin, and a discourageraent to the use of all means for our help, I must for brevity refer the rea der to what has been largely written on this head in ray dis course on the Freedom of the Will, Our author is pleased to advance another notion, among others, by way of objection against the doctrine of original sin : That if this doctrine be true, it would be unlawful to beget chil dren. He says,t " If natural generation be the raeans of una voidably conveying all sin and wickedness into the world, it must itself be a sinful and unlawful thing," Now, if there be any force of argument here, it lies in this proposition, whatso ever is a means or occasion of the certain infallible existence of sin and wickedness, must itself be sinful. But I imagine Dr, T. had not thoroughly weighed this proposition, nor considered where it would carry him. For, God continuing in being the devil, and others that are finally given up to wickedness, will be attended, most certainly and infalHbly, with an eternal se ries of the raost hateful and horrid wickedness. But will any be guilty of such vile blasphemy, as to say, therefore God's upholding of them in being is itself a sinful thing ? In the same place our author says, " so far as we are generated in sin, * Page 139, and 259. t See his exposition on Rom. vii. p. 205 — 220.. But especially in his para phrase and notes on the epistle. t Page 145. Chap, iv. Other Objections answered. 575 it must be a sin to generate." But there is no appearance of evidence in that position, any more than in this : " So far as any is upheld in existence in sin, it is a sin to uphold thera in existence." Yea, if there were any reason in the case, it would be strongest in the latter position : For parents, as Dr; T, hira self observes, are not the authors of the beginning of existence : Whereas, God is truly the author of the continuance of exist ence. As it is the known will of God, to continue Satan and millions of others in being, though the raost sure consequence is the continuance of a vast infernal world, full of everlasting hellish wickedness : so it is part of the revealed will of God, that this world of mankind should be continued, and the spe cies propagated, for his own wise and holy purposes ; which wiU is complied with by the parents joined in lawful marriage. Their children, though they come into the world in sin, yet are capable subjects of eternal holiness and happiness : Which in finite benefits for their children, parents have great reason to expect, in the way of giving up their children to God in faith, through a Redeemer, and bringing them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, I think this may be answer enough to such a cavil. Another objection is. That the doctrine of original sin is no oftener and no raore plainly spoken of in scripture ; it be ing, if true, a very iraportant doctrine, Dr, T, in raany parts of his book suggests to his readers, that there are very few texts in the whole bible, wherein there is the least appearance of their teaching any such doctrine. Of this I took notice before, but would here say further : That the reader who has perused the preceding defence of this doctrine, raust now be left to judge for hiraself, whether there be any ground for such an allegation ; whether there be not texts in sufficient nuraber, both in the Old Testaraent and New, that exhibit undeniable evidence of this great article of chris tian divinity ; and whether it be not a doctrine taught in the scripture with great plainness. I think there are few, if any, doctrines of revelation, taught more plainly and expressly. In deed it is taught in an explicit raanner raore in the New Testa ment than in the Old. Which is not to be wondered at ; it be ing thus with respect to all the most important doctrines of re vealed religion. But if it had been so, that this doctrine were but rarely , taught in scripture '; yet if we find that it is indeed declared to us by God, if held forth to us by any word of his ; then what belongs to us, is to beheve his word, and receive the doctrine which he teaches us ; and not to prescribe to him how often he shall speak of it, and to insist upon knowing what reasons he has for speaking of it no oftener, before we will receive what he teaches us ; or to pretend that he should give us an account 376 ORIGINAL SIN. Part iv. why he did not speak of so plainly as we think he ought to have done, sooner than hedid. In this way of proceeding, if it be reasonable, the Sadducees of old, who denied any resur rection or future - state, raight have maintained their cause against Christ, when he blamed thera for not knowing the scrip- ¦ tures, nor thepower of God ; and for not understanding by the scripture, that there would be a resurrection to spiritual enjoy ment, and not to animal life and sensual gratifications ; and they might have insisted, that these doctrines, if true, were very important, and therefore ought to have been spoken of in the scriptures oftener and more explicitly, and not that the church of God should be left, till that time, with only a few obscure intimations of that which so infinitely concerned them. And they might with disdain have rejected Christ's argument, by way of inference from God calling hims( If in the books of Moses, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. For answer they raight have said, that Moses was sent on purpose to teach the people the mind and will of God ; and therefore, if these doctrines were true, he ought in reason and in truth to have taught thern plainly and frequently, and not have left the people to spell out so important a doctrine only from God's saying that he was the God of Abrahara, &c. One great end of the scripture is, to teach the world what manner of being God is ; about which the world, without reve lation, has been so woefiilly in the dark: And that God is an infinite being, is a doctrine of great iraportance, and a doctrine sufficiently taught in the scripture. But yet it appears to rae, this doctrine is not taught there, in any measure, with such ex- plicitness and precision, as the doctrine of original sin : and the Socinians, who denied God's oranipresence and oraniscience, had as much roora left them for cavil, as the Pelagians who ,deny original sin. Dr. T. particularly urges, that Christ says not one word of this doctrine throughout the four gospels ; which doctrine, if true, being so important, and what so nearly concerned the great work of redemption, which he came to work out (as is sup posed) one would think, "it should have been emphatically^ spo ken of in every page of the gospels."* In reply to this it may be observed, that by the account given in the four gospels, Christ was continually saying those things which plainly implied, that all raen in their original state are sinful and miserable. As when he declared, that " they which are whole need not a physician, but they which are sick;"t That " he carae to seek and to save that which was lost,"| That it was necessary for all to be born again, and to he converted, and that otherwise they could not enter into the kingdom of ' Page 942, 243. +Matt. ix. 12. f Matt, .xviii. 11. Luke xix. 10. Chap, iv. Other Objections ansivered. 5/7 heaven f*— and that all were sinners, as well as those whose blood Pilate mingled with their sacrifices, ^c. and that every one who did not repent, shouldperish;]— Withal directing every one to pray to God ior forgiveness of sin ;j — Using our necessi ty of forgiveness from God, as an argument with all to forgive the injuries of their neighbours ;§ — Teaching that earthly jaa- rents, though kind to their children, are in themselves evil,\\ And signifying that things carnal and corrupt are properly the things of men ,-ir — Warning his disciples rather to beware of men, than of wild beasts ;** — Often representing the world as evil, as wick ed in its works, at enmity with truth and holiness, and hating him;]] — Yea, and teaching plainly, that all raen are extreraely and inexpressibly sinful, owing ten thousand talents to their di vine creditor.JI And whether Christ did not plainly teach Nicodemus the doctrine of original total depravity, when he came to hira to know what his doctrine was, raust be left to the reader to judge, frora what has been already observed on John iii. 1 — II. And besides, Christ ui the course of his preaching took the most proper raethod to convince men of the corruption of their nature, and to give them an effectual and practical knowledge of it, in application to themselves in particular, by teaching and urging the holy and strict law of God, in its extent and spirituality and dreadful threatenings : Which, above all things, tends to search the hearts of raen, and to teach thera their in bred exceeding depravity ; not raerely as a matter of specula tion, but by proper conviction of conscience : which is the only knowledge of original sin, that can avail to prepare the mind for receiving Christ's rederaption ; as a raan's sense of his own sickness prepares hira to apply in good earnest to the physician. And as to Christ being no raore frequent and particular in raentioning and inculcating this point in a doctrinal raanner, it is probable one reason to be given for it, is the sarae that is to be given for his speaking no oftener of God's creating of the world: Which, though so iraportant a doctrine, is scarce ever spoken of in any of Christ's discourses ; and no wonder, seeing this was a raatter which the Jews, to whora he confined his personal rainistry, had all been instructed in frora their forefathers, and never was called in question araong them. And there is a great deal of reason, from the ancient Jewish writers, to suppose, that the doctrine of original sin had ever been allowed in the open profession of that people :§§ though * Matt, xviii. 3. f Luke xiii. 1 — 5. j: Matt. vi. 12. Luke xi. 4. § Matt. vi. 14, 15. and xviii. 35. || Matt. vii. 11. IT Matt. xvi. 23, ** Matt. X. 16, 17. ft John vii. 7. and viii. 23. and xiv. 17. andxv. 18, 19. « Matt, xviii. 21. to the end. §§ What is found in the more ancient of the Jewish rabbis, who have written VOL. Hi "^^ 578 OBifliNAL SIN. Part iv. they were generally, in that corrupt time, very far from a practical conviction of it ; and many notions were then preva- since the coming of Christ, is an argument of this. Many things of this sort are taken notice of by Stapferus, m his Theologia Polemicahetore mentioned. Some of these things, which are there cited by him in Latin, I shall here faithfully give m English, for the sake of the English reader. "—So Manasseh, concerning Human Frailty, pag. 129.— Gen. vin. 21. 'I will not any raore curse the earth for man's sake ; for the appetite of man is evil from his youth ;' that is, from the time when he comes forth from his mother's tvomb. For at the same time that he sucks the breast, he follows his l-ust ; and while he is yet an infant, he is under the dominion of anger, envy, hatred and other vices to which that tender age is obnoxious." — 'Prov. xxii. 15. Solomon says, 'Foolish ness is bound to the mind of a child.' Conceming which place R. Levi Ben Ger- som observes thus, " Foolishness as it were grows to him in his vei'y beginning." Conceming this sin, which is common and original to all men, David said, Psal. li. 5. " Behold I was begotten in iniquity, and in sin did my mother warm me." Upon which place Eben-Ezra says thus : " Behold, because of the concupiscence which is innate in the heart of man, it is said, I am begotten in iniquity. And the sense is, that there is implanted in the heart of man, jetzer hjtrang, an evil fig ment, from his nativity." And Manasseh Ben Israel, de Fragil. pag. 3. " ' Behold, I was formed in ini quity, and in sin hath my mother warmed me.' . But whether this be understood conceming the common mother, which was Eve, or whether Davidspake only of his own raother, he would signify, that sin is as it were natural and inseparable in this life. For it is to be observed, that Eve conceived after the transgression was committed : and as many as were begotten afterwards, were not brought forth in a conformity to the rule of right reason, but in conformity to disorderly and lust ful aifections." He adds, " One of the wise men of the Jews, namely, K. Aha, rightly observed, David would signify that it is impossible, even for pious men who excel in virtue, never to commit any sin." ' Job also asserts the sarae thing with David, chap. xiv. 4. saying. Who will give a clean thing for an unclean ? Tmly not one.' Concerning which words Aben-Ezra says thus : " The sense is the same with that, Iwas begotten in iniquity, because raan is made outof an un clean thing." Stapferus, Theolog. Polera. tom. iii. p. 36, 37. Id. Ibid. p. 132, &c. So Sal. Jarchi ad Gemaram, Cod. Schabbath, foi. 142. p. 2. " And this is not ordy to be referred to sinners,- because all the posterity of the flrst man are In hke manner suhjeoted to all the curses pronounced on him." And Manasseh Ben Israel, in his preface to Human Fraiuy, says, " I had a mind ta shew by what means it came to pass, that when the first father of all had lost his - righteousness, his posterity are begotten liable to the same punishment with hira." And Munsterus on the gospel of Matthew cites the foUowing words, from the book called The Bundle of Myrrh : " The blessed Lord said to the^«t man, when he cursed him, ' Thorns and thistles shall it bring forth to thee ; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field.' The thing which he means is, that because of his sin aU who should descend from him, shovud be wicked and perverse, Uke thoms and thistles, according to that word of the Lord speaking to the prophet : Thoms and irrita- tors are with thee, and thou dwellest among scorpions. And all this is from the serpent, who was the devil, Sammael, who emitted a mortiferous and corruptive poison into Eve, and becarae the cause of death to Adam himself, when he eat the fruit." Remarkable is the place quoted in Joseph de Voisin, against Martm Kaymund, p. 471. of Master Menachem Rakanatensis, sect. Bereschit, from Mi- drasch Tehillim ; which is cited by Hoornbekius, against the Je s, iii these words : "It is no wonder, that the sin of Adara and Eve is written and sealed with the king's ring, and to be propagated to all following generations ; because on the Say that Adam was created all things were finished ; so that he stood forth the per fection and completion of the whole workmanship of the world ; So wben Ae sin ned, the whole world sinned ; whose sin we bear and sufier. But the matter is not thus with respect to the sins of his posterity.*'— Thus far Stapferus. Besides these, as Ainsworth on Gen. vui. 21. observes, "In Bereshith Rabba, a Hebrew commentary on this place, a rabbin is said to be ask ed, When is the evil imagination put into -man ? And he answered, From the hmtrthtike is.f!imcd.-' And in Pool's Synopsis itis added, from Grotius, "So Chap. iv. Other objectibns answerfd. o1% lent, especially among the Pharisees, which were indeed inconsistent with it. And though on account of these preju- Rabbi Salomon interprets Gen. viii. 21. The imagination of man's heart is evUfrom his youth, of its being evil from the time that he is taken out of his mother'* bow els." Aben-Ezra thus interprets Psal. h. 5. " I was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me ; that evil concupiscence ia implanted in the heart from childhood, as if he were /ormed in it ; and by my mother, he understands Eve, who did not bear children till she had smned. And so Kafvenaki says, " Hovi? shall 1 avoid sinning ? My original is corrupt, and frora thence are those sins." So Manasseh Ben Israel, from this place (Psal. h. 5.) concludes that not only David, but all raankind, ever since sin was introduced into the world, do sin from their original. To this purpose is the answer of Rabbi Hakkadosch which there is an account of in the Talmud. From what time does concupiscence nde over man ^ From the very moment of his first formaHon, or from his nativity 1 Ans. From his formatimi." — ^Pool's Synops. in Loc. On these things I observe, there is the greatest reason to suppose, that these old Rabbis of the Jewish nation, who gave such heed to the tradition of the elders, would never have received tbis doctrine of original sin, had it not been delivered down to them from their forefathers. For it is a doctrine very disagreeable to those practical principles and notions, wherein the religion of the unbelieving Jews raost fundamentaUy differs from the reh^on raaintained among Christians ; particularly their notion oi justification by their own righteousness, and privUeges as the chUdren of Abraham, &c. without standing in need of any satisfaction, by the sufierings of the Messiah. On which account the raodern Jews do now um- I versally reject the doctrine of original sin, and corruption of natm'e ; as Stapfems I observes. And it is not at aU likely, that the ancient Jews, if no such doctrine Ihad been received by tradition from the fathers, woidd have taken it up from the Ic/trwtians, whom they had in such great contempt and enmity ; especially as it is X doctrine so pecuharly agreeable to the Christian notion of the spiritual salvation if Jesus, and so contrary to their carnal notions of the Messiah, and of his sal- 'ation and kingdom, and so contrary to their opinion of themselves ; and a doc- rine which men in general are so apt to be prejudiced against. And besides, hese Rabbis do expressly refer to the opinion of their /ore/atAers ; as R. Manasseh lays, " according to the opinion of the ancie-ixts, none are subject to death, but hose which have sinned : for .where there is no sin, there is no death," Stapfcr, Tom. iii. p. 37, 38. But we have more direct evidence, that the doctrine of original sin was truly la received doctrine among the ancient Jews, even before the coming of Christ. [This appears by ancient Jewish writings, which were written before Christ ; as, in the apocryph, 2 Esdras iii. 21 : " For the first Adam, bearing a vidcked heart, I transgressed, and was overcome : and so be all they that are bom of him. Thus Un/irmiti/ was made permanent ; and the law also in the heart of the people, with Ithe malignity of the root ; so that the good depart away, and the evU abode stUl." t— 2 Esdras iv. 30. For the grain of evil seed hath been sown in the heart of Adam Ifrom the beginning ; and how rauch ungodliness hath it brought up unto this (Ume? And how much shall it yet bring forth, tiU the time of threshing shaU tome ?" And chap . vii. 46. "It had been better not to have given the earth junto Adam ; or else, when it was ^ven him, to have restrained him from sinning j for what profit is it, for raen now in this present tirae, to live in heaviness, and af ter death, to look for punishment? O thou Adam, what hast thou done ! For Ihouffh it was thou that sinned, thou art not fallen alone, but we aU that come of thee." knd we read, Eccles. xxv. 24 " Of the woman came the beginning of sin, and mrough her we aU die." I As this doctrine of original corruption was constantly maintained in the church Jf God frora the beginning ; so from thence, in all probabihty, as well as from the ¦ evidence of it in universal experience it was, that the wiser heathens maintained fthe Uke doctrine Particularly Plato, that great philosopher, so distinguished for /his veneration of ancient traditions, and diligent enquiries after them. Gale in (his Court of the GentUeSj observes as foUows: "Plato says (Gorg. foi. 493.) I I have heard from the vidse men, that we are now dead, and that the body is but our I sepulchre.' And in his Timaeus Locrus (foi. 103.) he says, ' The cause of vitiosity \isfrom our parents, and first principles, rather than from ourselves. So that we 580 ORIGINAL SIN. PaHT IVj dices they raight need to have this doctrine explained and ap plied to thera^ yet it is well known, by all acquainted with their bibles, that Christ, for wise reasons, spake raore sparingly and obscurely of several of the raost important doctrines of revealed religion, relating to the necessity, grounds, nature, and way of his redemption, and the method of the justification of sinners, while he lived here in the flesh ; and left these doctrines to be more plainly and fully opened and inculcated by the Holy Spi rit, after his ascension. But if after all, Christ did not speak of this" doctrine often enough to suit Dr, T, he might be asked, Why he supposes Christ did no oftener and no raore plainly teach some of his Dr, T,'s doctrines, which he so much insists on ? As, that tera poral death coraes on all mankind by Adam ; and that it comes on thera by him, not as a punishment or calamity, but as a ^reat favour, being made a rich benefit, and a fruit of God's abundant grace, by Christ's redemption, who came into the world as a second Adam for this end. Surely if this were so, it was of vast importance that it should be known to the church of God in all ages, who saw death reigning over infants, as well as others. If infants were indeed perfectly innocent, was it not needful that the design of that which y^.as such a melan choly and awful dispensation towards so many millions of inno cent creatures, should be known, in order to prevent the worst thoughts of God frora arising in the rainds of the constant spec tators of so mysterious and gloomy a dispensation ? Buf why then such a total silence about it for four thousand years toge ther, and not one word of it in all the old testament ; nor one word of it in all Xhe four gospels ; and indeed not one word of it in the whole bible, but only as forced and wrung out by Dr. T.'s arts of criticism and deduction, against the plainest and strongest evidence ! never relinquish those actions, which lead us to follow these primitive blemishes of our first parents.' Plato mentions the corruptions of tbe will, and seems to ' disown &ny free will to true good; albeit he allows, some suifuia, or natural disposi tions, to civil good, in some great heroes. Socrates asserted the coiTuption of human nature, or xctunv i/u^unv — Grotius affirms, that the philosophers acknow ledged, it was con-natural to men, to sin. Seneca (Benef 5. 14.) says, " Wickedness has not its first beginning in wicked practice ; though by that it is first exercised and made raanifest." And Plutarch (de sera vindicta) says, " Man does not first become wicked, when he first manifests himself so : but he hath wickedness from the beginning ; and he shows it as soon as he finds opportunity and abihty. As men rightly judge, that the sting is not first ingendered in scorpions when they strike, or the poison in vipers when they bite." — Pool's Synops. on Gen. viii. 21. To which raay be subjoined what Juvenal says, — M mores natura recurrit . Damnatos fixa et mutarinescia. \. Englished thus, in prose ; ^ Nfi,tare, a thing fixed and not knowing how fo change, returns to its TOcked manner.s, — Watts, Ruin and Recovery. Chap. iv. Other Objections answered. 581 As to the arguments made use of by many late writers, frora the universal moral sense, and the reasons they offer frora experience, and observation of the nature of raankind, to shew that we are bom into the world with principles of virtue ; with a natural prevaihng relish, approbation, and love of righteous ness, truth, and goodness, and of whatever tends to the public welfare ; with a prevailing natXiral disposition to dislike, to re sent and conderan what is selfish, unjust, and immoral ; and a native bent in mankind to rautual benevolence, tender compas sion, &c. those who have had such objections against the doc trine of original sin thrown in their way, and desire to see them particularly considered, I ask leave to refer them to a Treatise on the Nature of true Virtue, lying by rae prepared for the press, which raay ere long be exhibited to public view. CONCLUSION. / On the whole I observe, there are some other things, be sides arguments, in Dr. T.'s book, which are calculated to in fluence the rainds, and bias the judgment of sorae sorts of readers. Here, not to insist on the profession he makes in many places, of sincerity, humility, meekness, modesty, charity, &c. in searching after truth ; and freely proposing his thoughts, with the reasons of them, to others ;* nor on his magisterial assurance, appearing on many occasions, and the high contempt he soraetimes expresses of the opinions and arguments of very excellent divines and fathers in the church of God, who have thought differently from himt — both of which, it is not unlikely, may have a degree of influence on sorae of his readers — I would take some notice of another thing observable in the writings of Dr. T. and many of the late opposers of the more peculiar doctrines of Christianity, tending (especially with juvenile and unwary readers) not a little to abate the force, and prevent the due effect of the clearest scripture-evidence in favour of those important doctrines ; and particularly to make void the arguments taken from the writings ofthe Apostle Paul, in which those doctrines are more plainly and fully revealed than in any other part of the bible. What I mean is this : These gentle men express a high opinion of this apostle, and that very justly, for his eminent genius, his admirable sagacity, strong powers of X^reasoning, acquired learning, &c. They speak of him as a \vriter of raasterly address, of extensive reach, and deep de- si^:^, every where in his epistles, alraost in every word he says. ee his Preface, and p. 6,237, 265, 267, 175. S. t Page Ilo, 125, 150, 151, 159, 161, 183, 188, 77. S, 582 ORIGINAL SIN. Part iv. This looks exceedingly specious : it carries a plausible appear ance of christian zeal and attachment to the holy scriptures, to bear such a testimony of high veneration for that great apostle, who was not only the principal instrument of propagating Chris tianity, but with his own hand wrote so considerable a part of the new testament. And I am far from determining, with res pect at least to some of these writers, that they are not sincere in their declarations ; or that all is mere artifice, only to raake way for the reception of their own peculiar sentlraents. How ever, it tends greatly to subserve such a purpose ; as much as if it were designedly contrived, with the utmost subtilty, for that end. Hereby their incautious readers are prepared the more easily to be drawn into a belief that they, and others in their way of thinking, have not Hghtly understood many of those things in this apostle's writings, which before seemed very plain to them. Thus they are prepared, by a prepossession in jfauoMr of these new writers, to entertain a favourable thought of the interpretations put by them upon the words and phrases of this apostle ; and to adrait in raany passages a meaning which be fore lay entirely out of sight ; quite foreign to all that in the view ofa common reader seeras to be their obvious sense ; arid most reraote frora the expositions agreed in by those who used to be esteeraed the greatest divines, and best commentators. As to this apostle, being a man of no vulgar understanding, it is nothing strange if his meaning lies very deep ; and no won der then, if the superficial observation of vulgar christians, or indeed of the herd of comraon divines, such as the JVestmin- sier Assembly, &g. falls vastly short of the apostle's reach, and frequently does not enter into the true spirit and design of his epistles. They must understand, that the first' reformers, and indeed preachers and expositors in general^ for fifteen or sixteen hundred years past, were too unlearned and short-sight ed, to be capable of penetrating into the sense, or fit to make comments on the writings of so great a raan as this apostle ; or else had dwelt in a cave of bigotry and superstitiop too gloomy to allow them to use their own understandings with freedom, in reading the scripture. But, at the same time, it must be understood, that there is risen up now at length, in this happy age of light and liberty, a set of men of a more free and generous turn of mind, of a more inquisitive genius, and of better discernment. By such insinuations, they seek advantage to their cause ; and thus the most unreasonable and extrava gant interpretations of sc/ipture are palliated and recommend ed : So that if the siraple reader is not very much on his guard, if he does not clearly see with his own eyes, or has too rauch indolence, or too little leisure, thoroughly to examine for him self, he is in danger of being imposed on with delijsive appear ances. Chap. iv. The Conclusion. 583 But I hurably conceive that their interpretations — particu larly of the Apostle Paul's writings, though in some things ingenious — are in raany things extreraely absurd, and demon strably disagreeable, in the highest degree, to his real design, to the language he comraonly uses, and to the doctrines current ly taught in his epistles. Their criticisms, when examined, appear fa,r raore subtile than solid ; and it seems as it nothing can possibly be strong enough, nothing perspicuous enough, in any composure whatever, to stand before such liberties as these writers indulge. The plainest and raost nervous discourse is analysed and criticized, till it either dissolves into nothing, or becomes a thing of little significance. The holy scripture is subtilized into a raere mist ; or raade to evaporate into a thin cleud, that easily puts on any shape, and is moved in any direc tion, with a puff of wind, just as the raanager pleases. It is not in the nature and power of language, to afford sufficient defence against such an art, so abused ; as, I iraagine, a due consideration of some things I have had occasion in the preceding discourse to observe, may abundantly convince ^^^t 3ut this, with the rest of what I have offered On the subject / must be left with every candid reader's judgment ; and the success oi the whole must now be left with God, who knows what is agreeable to his own mind, and is able to raake his own truths prevail ; however mysterious they may seem to the poor, partial, narrow, and extremely imperfect views of raor- taJs, while looking through a cloudy and delusory mediura ; and however disagreeable they raay be to the innumerable pre judices of raen's hearts:- — And who has promised, that the gospel of Christ, such as is really his, shall finally be victo rious ; and has assured us, that the word which goes out of his mouth, "shall not return to hira void, but shall accomplish that which he pleaseth, and shall prosper in the thing whereto he sends it." — Let God arise and plead his own cause, and glorify is own great narae. Amen. 3 9002 00587 3139