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A SELECTION

UNPUBLISHED PAPERS

THE RIGHT REVEREND
WILLIAM WARBURTON, D.D.
LATE LORD BISHOP OF GLOCESTER.

BY THE REV. FRANCIS KILVERT, M.A.
LATE OF WORCESTER COLLEGE, OXFORD.

LONDON:
JOHN BOWYER NICHOLS AND SON,
PARLIAMENT STREET.
1841.

J. B. NICHOLS AND SON, PRINTERS, -O, PARLIAMENT STREUT, LONDON.

TO
THE DEAR AND HONOURED MEMORY
OF
MARY ELIZABETH,
RELICT OF THE LATE
REV. MARTIN STAFFORD SMITH,
THESE PAPERS,
CONSIGNED BY HER TO THE EDITOR,
ARE INSCRIBED,
AS A TESTIMONY OF VENERATION
FOR HER MEEK WISDOM AND PLACID VIRTUE,
AND OF AFFECTIONATE GRATITUDE
FOR A CONSIDERATE AND CONSISTENT FRIENDSHIP
OF THIRTY YEARS.

PREFACE.

In a copy of Bishop Warburton's Works depo
sited in the Library of Hartlebury Castle, his
friend and biographer Bishop Hurd has inscribed
the following appropriate passage from the Roman
Critic, where he speaks of some eminent writers of
his own time ; " ad posteros virtus durabit, non
perveniet invidia."* This vaticination of that
acute and elegant writer respecting the literary
character of his great friend, has been in a remark
able manner fulfilled. Though opinions are, and
perhaps ever will be, divided as to the merits of
the main argument of the Divine Legation, as well
as of some other of his works ; yet the storm of
opposition with which they were met on their
first publication has long since died away ; and,
however parties may differ about the leading sub
jects of those works, the genius and learning of
* Quinctil. Inst. Orat. III. 1.

Vl PREFACE.
their author are now generally allowed.* Nor is
this otherwise than might have been anticipated.
The irritation which excited such excesses of feel
ing and expression, arose from temporary causes ;
the excellencies on which Warburton's reputation
is based are permanent. The causes of the oppo
sition in question seem to have been two-fold —
the natural defects of Warburton's temper, and his
pecuHar position as the acknowledged friend and
correspondent of the able and learned, but scepti
cal Middleton. The former of these often betrayed
his vigorous mind, conscious of its own powers,
into arrogant claims of deference to its own views ;
and into a depreciation, generally supercilious and
often unjust, of those who differed from him in
opinion ; which naturally excited correspondent
exasperation of feeling and angry recrimination.
The latter, taken in conjunction with the boldness
of his theological speculations, not unreasonably
threw suspicion on the soundness of his doctrinal
views. * The Editor remembers to have heard many years ago, with
deep interest, a sermon from the University pulpit at Oxford, by
the present Bishop of Llandaff, in which, with equal candour and
discrimination, justice was done to the character both of the Bishop
and of his great work.

PREFACE. vii
The durable qualities on which Warburton's
fame is established cannot be better expressed than
in the just and nervous language of Dr. Johnson,
which will carry the greater weight as being the
testimony of one between whom and Bishop War
burton " mutual and strong dislike" is recorded
by Mr. Boswell to have prevailed.
" He was a man of vigorous faculties, a mind
fervid and vehement, supplied, by incessant and
unhmited inquiry, with wonderful extent and va
riety of knowledge, which yet had not oppressed
his imagination nor clouded his perspicacity. To
every work he brought a memory full-fraught, toge
ther with a fancy fertile of original combinations ;
and at once exerted the powers of the scholar, the
reasoner, and the wit."
The public mind being thus in a position to
form a candid judgment of the Bishop's character
and writings, it is hoped that such of the following
Papers as treat of theological subjects wiU meet
with a favourable reception from both the advo
cates and opposers of his opinions. On those opi
nions the Editor does not consider himself compe
tent to express a detailed judgment. He will,
however, venture briefly to remark, that while on

VIU PREFACE.
the one hand he cannot see the danger which
some have professed to find in the argument of
the Divine Legation* (an argument, be it re
membered, maintained, so far as regards the omis
sion of a future state in the Law of Moses, by
Grotius, Episcopius, Bishop Bull, and Arnauld) ;
on the other he is strongly opposed to the want of
deference for ecclesiastical antiquity, and the pro
minence given to the authority of private judg
ment, which run throughout the Bishop's works.
It is his desire to offer to the Public the theological
part of these Papers rather as matters of literary cu
riosity than as sources of theological instruction :
* The following important concession of the Bishop would
seem effectually to meet the essential objections made to his
theory :
" Though it appear that a future state of rewards and punish
ments made no part of the Mosaic dispensation, yet the Law
had certainly a spiritual meaning, to be understood when the
fulness of time should come : and hence it received the nature
and afforded the efficacy of prophecy. In the interim the
MYSTERY of THE GospEL was Occasionally revealed by God to
his chosen servants, the fathers and leaders of the Jewish nation •
and the dawning of it was gradually opened by the Prophets to the
people ; and * which is exactly agreeable to what our excellent
Church in its Seventh Article of Religion teacheth concern
ing this matter." — Div. Leg. Book VI. Sec. 5.
* Sic ; but query, " All."

PREFACE. IX
and he begs that he may be considered as no way
committed by any statements, whether of doctrine
or discipline, which may be found in them. The
same disclaimer he must record with regard to
many sentiments and expressions in the Letters of
the Bishop's Correspondents, particularly in one of
Lord Lyttelton's, at page 202, where the defence of
Protestantism against the Church of Rome is main
tained in a singularly disingenuous manner. The
Church of England can well afford to spare such
ungenerous methods of controversial warfare : Non
tali auxilio, 8gc.
On the whole, the Editor ventures to hope, that
neither the literary nor moral character of Bishop
Warburton wiU be compromised by the present
publication ; on the contrary, he has some confi
dence, that while the former may receive an ac
cession of credit, the latter will be exhibited in a
more amiable point of view than it has as yet ap
peared in.* In proof of this point he would refer
to the letters of Bishop Hare, from which it ap
pears, on the testimony of a calm and dispassionate
witness, that the attacks made on Warburton's
great work at its first appearance were of so out-
* Excepting, perhaps, in his correspondence with Dr. Doddridge.

X PREFACE,

rageous a character, as to palliate, though they
may not excuse, the severity of his answers : and
next, to the Bishop's fine Letter to Mr. Jane
(page 168) which shows, that when addressed with
Christian and gentlemanly courtesy, he knew how
to reply even to the severest strictures on his
works, as a Christian and a gentleman.
In conclusion, the Editor begs to offer his ac
knowledgments, first to his kind friends, and the
other distinguished individuals, who have done
him the honour to patronise his work : next to his
respected publishers, for the care and judgment
shown in carrying it through the press ; and last,
though not least, to the designer (his brother
Edward Kilvert, of St. Alban's Hall, Oxford,) and
engraver of the spirited sketch of Bishop Warbur
ton and his Friends, which forms so conspicuous
an ornament of it.

As it is hoped that this Publication may deserve
to be considered as a supplemental volume to
Bishop Warburton's Works, to which a masterly
sketch of his Life, Character, and Writings, by his
friend Bishop Hurd, is prefixed, it has not been

PREFACE. XI
judged needful to give a biographical account of
the Bishop, as it has been of his different Corre
spondents. A complete history of his literary life
is still a desideratum. It may be gratifying to
those who take an interest in the subject, to
know that James Crossley, Esq. of Manchester,
has long been collecting materials for such a
Work. Bath, Jan. 14, 1841.

CONTENTS.

PART 1.
divine legation.

PAGE
Summary of the Argument of the Divine Legation . 1
Outline of the Vllth Book .... 7
Outline of the Vlllth Book .... 15
Appendix to the IXth Book . . . .18
PART II
CORRESPONDENCE ON THE DIVINE LEGATION.
Letter of Bishop Warburton to  . . .39
Biographical Notice of Bishop Sherlock . . .54
Letters to and from Bishop Sherlock . . 55 — 92
Biographical Notice of Bishop Hare . . .93
Letters from Bishop Hare to the Rev. W. Warburton 94 — 121
Biographical Notice of the Hon. Charles Yorke . . 122
Letters from the Hon. Charles Yorke to the Rev. W. War
burton ..... 123—153
Biographical Notice of Thomas Blackwell, LL.D. . 154
Letters from Dr. Blackwell to the Rev. W. Warburton 154 — 163
Letters to and from the Rev. Joseph Jane . 164 — 177
Biographical Notices of the Rev. Archdeacon Tovrae and
the Rev. Archdeacon Balguy . . .178
Letters from Archdeacon Towne to Archdeacon Balguy 179 — 191

XIV CONTENTS.
PART m.
GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. PAGE
Biographical Notice of George Lord Lyttelton . .195
Letters of Mr. George (afterwards Lord) Lyttelton to
the Rev. W. Warburton . . . 196—214
Biographical Notice of Dr. Jortin . . .215
Letter of Dr. Jortin to the Rev. W. Warburton . .216
Letter from the Rev. W. Warburton to Mr. Whiston,
bookseller . . . . .218
Letter from Dr. Jortin to Dean Warburton . . 220
Biographical Notice of Ralph Allen, Esq. . . 223
Biographical Notice of John Wilkes, Esq. . . 224
Letters from Bishop Warburton to Ralph AUen, Esq. 225 — 233
Biographical Notice of Charles de Secondat, Baron of
Montesquieu ..... 234
Letters from the Baron Montesquieu to the Rev. W. War
burton ..... 234 — 238
Biographical Notice of the Rev. Laurence Sterne . 239
Letters to and from the Rev. Laurence Sterne . 239 — 246
Biographical Notice of the Rev. Jonathan Toup . . 247
Letter from the Rev. J. Toup to Bishop Warburton . 248
Biographical Notice of the Rev. Archibald Maclaine . 249
Letter from the Rev. A. Maclaine to the Rev. W. Warburton 250
Biographical Notice of the Rev. Joseph Atwell, D.D. . 253
Letters from Bishop Warburton to Dr. Atwell . 254 — 271
Letter from Bishop Warburton to  . . 272
Bishop Warburton's Speech in the House of Lords, on the
Prosecution of Mr. Wilkes . . .277
PART IV.
MISCELLANEOUS.
I. Fragments of a discourse on History, illustrated from
Lord Clarendoo's History of the Rebellion . 287

CONTENTS. XV
PAGE
II. Thoughts on various subjects.
1. Theological . . . . .309
Copy of a Letter from Bishop Warburton to
Mr. MiUar . . . .309
Hints, probably intended for the Second Part
of Directions for the Study of Theology . 322
2. Critical and miscellaneous . . . 324
PART V.

CHARGES AND SERMONS.
Charge to the Clergy of the Diocese of Gloucester.
1767 ....
A Charge on the study of divinity [unfinished]
Sermon I. Humility
Sermon II. Christian Obedience .
Sermon III. National Corruption
Sermon IV. Fruits of Sin
Sermon V. Bad Principles and bad Practice
Sermon VI. Charity
Sermon VII. Deceitfulness of Sin
Sermon VIII. Duelling .

347358369380389397 407416 427
437

PLATES.
Frontispiece to face the Title.
Fac Similes of Autographs to face *36.

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Bangor, Very Rev. the Dean of, Bangor.
Barton, John, Esq. East Leigh, near Emsworth, Hants.
Bellamy, Rev. J. W., B.D. Merchant Taylors' School, London.
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Boyle, Mrs.
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ChurchUl, Rev. J., Worcester College, Oxford.
Charleton, Rev. Dr., Olveston, Thornbury.
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Chester, Right Rev. Lord Bishop of, Chester.
Chichester, Right Rev. Lord Bishop of (late).
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Clarke, Venerable Archdeacon, Chester.
Crossley, James, Esq. 4, Booth Street, Manchester. b

XVm LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS.
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Duncan, J. S., Esq. LL.D. Bath.
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Douglas, Rev. Henry, M.A. Prebendary of Durham.
Drake, Rev. Dr., Langton-upon-Swale, Richmond, Yorkshire.
Ely, Right Rev. Lord Bishop of.
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East India College Library, Hertford.
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Estcourt, T. Bucknall, Esq. M. P. Estcourt, Tetbury.
Faber, Rev. G. Stanley, B. D. Master of Sherborne Hospital,
Durham.
Fox, Rev. Dr., Provost of Queen's College, Oxford.
Gloucester and Bristol, Right Rev. Lord Bishop of.
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Harrison, Rev. W., M.A. Chester.
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Head, Mrs. G. H. ditto.

LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. xix
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Kilvert, Mrs., College Green, Worcester.
Knight, Rev. W. B., Chancellor of Llandaff, Taibach.
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SUMMARY OF THE ARGUMENT
OF THE
DIVINE LEGATION OF MOSES
DEMONSTRATED.

[It has been judged advisable to prefix to the Fragments of the
Divine Legation, and the Correspondence relative to that
work, the following Summary of the entire Argument, in the
words of the learned Author himself. See Divine Legation,
Book VI. Sect. 6.— Ed.]

In reading the Law and History of the Jews
with all the attention I could give to them,
amongst the many circumstances pecuhar to that
amazing Dispensation (from several of which, as I
conceive, the divinity of its original may be fairly
proved), these two particulars most forcibly struck
my observation : — the omission of the doc
trine OF A Future State ; and the admi
nistration of an Extraordinary Provi
dence. As unaccountable as the first circum
stance appeared when considered separately and
alone ; yet, when set against the other, and their
mutual relations examined and compared, the
B

2 divine legation of MOSES.
omission was not only well explained, but was
found to be an invincible medium for the proof of
the Divine Legation of Moses ; which, as un
believers had been long accustomed to decry from
this very circumstance, I chose it preferably to
any other. The argument appeared to me in a
supreme degree strong and simple, and not need
ing many words to enforce it, or, when enforced,
to make it well understood.
Religion hath always been held necessary to
the support of civil society, because human
laws alone are ineffectual to restrain men from
evil, with a force sufficient to carry on the affairs
of public regimen ; and, under the common dis
pensation of Providence, a future state of re
wards and punishments is confessed to be as ne
cessary to the support of religion, because
nothing else can remove the objections to God's
moral government under a providence so appa
rently unequal ; whose phsenomena are apt to
disturb the serious professors of religion with
doubts and suspicions concerning it, as it is of the
essence of religious profession to believe that
" God is a rewarder of them that diligently seek
Him." Moses, who instituted a religion and a re
public, and incorporated them into one another,
stands single amongst ancient and modern law
givers, in teaching a religion, without the sanc
tion, or even so much as the mention, of a future

DIVINE LEGATION OF MOSES. 3
STATE OF REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. The
same Moses, with a singularity as great, by unit
ing the religious and civil community of the Jews
into one incorporated body, made God, by natural
consequence, their supreme civil magistrate,
whereby the form of government arising from
thence became truly and essentially a Theocracy.
But as the administration of government necessa
rily follows its form, that before us could be no
other than an extraordinary or equal Pro
vidence. And such indeed, not only the Jewish
Lawgiver himself, but ah the succeeding rulers
and prophets of this republic, have invariably re
presented it to be. In the meantime, no lawgiver
or founder of religion amongst any other people,
ever promised so singular a distinction ; no his
torian ever dared to record so remarkable a pre
rogative. This being the true and acknowledged state of
the case, whenever the unbeliever attempts to dis
prove, and the advocate of rehgion to support, the
divinity of the Mosaic dispensation, the obvious
question (if each be willing to bring it to a speedy
decision) will be, " Whether the Extraordinary
Providence thus prophetically promised, and
afterwards historically recorded to be performed,
was REAL or PRETENDED Only ? "
We believers hold that it was real ; and I, as
an advocate for Revelation, undertake to prove it
B 2

4 divine legation of moses.
was so ; employing for this purpose, as my me
dium, " THE omission OF A FUTURE STATE OF
REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS."
The argument stands thus : — If religion be ne
cessary to civil government, and if religion cannot
subsist under the common dispensation of Provi
dence without a future state of rewards and
punishments, so consummate a lawgiver would
never have neglected to inculcate the belief of
such a state, had he not been well assured that an
Extraordinary Providence was indeed to be
administered over his people ; or were it possible
he had been so infatuated, the impotency of a
religion wanting a future state, must very soon
have concluded in the destruction of his republic ;
yet, nevertheless, it flourished and continued
sovereign for many ages.
These two proofs of the proposition (" that an
Extraordinary Providence was really adminis
tered,") drawn from the thing omitted, and the
PERSON omitting, may be reduced to the follow
ing syllogisms :
I. Whatever religion and society have no fu
ture state for their support, must be supported by
an Extraordinary Providence :
The Jewish religion and society had no future
state for their support ; therefore.
The Jewish religion and society were supported
by an Extraordinary Providence,
IL The ancient lawgivers universally believed

DIVINE legation OF MOSES. 5
that a religion without a future state could be sup
ported only by an Extraordinary Providence :
Moses, an ancient lawgiver, learned in all the
wisdom of the Egyptians (the principal branch of
which wisdom was, inculcating the doctrine of a
future state), instituted such a rehgion; therefore,
Moses believed that his religion was supported
by an Extraordinary Providence.
The argument of the Divine Legation having
been thus completed in six Books, the author, in
order " to remove all conceivable objections against
the CONCLUSION, and to throw in every collateral
light upon the premises," saw fit to add three
more Books ; of which,
The Seventh is employed in supporting the
MAJOR and the minor propositions of the first
syllogism ; in a continued history of the religious
opinions of the Jews, from the time of the earlier
prophets, who first gave some dark intimations of
a different dispensation, to the time of the Mac
cabees, when the doctrine of a future state of re
wards and punishments was become national.
The Eighth Book is employed in supporting the
major and minor propositions of the second syl
logism, in which is considered the personal
CHARACTER of Moses, and the genius of the
LAW, as far as it concerns or has a relation to the
character of the lawgiver. Under this latter head
is contained a full and satisfactory answer to those

b DIVINE LEGATION OF MOSES.
who may object, "that a revealed religion, with
out a future state of rewards and punishments, is
unworthy the Divine Author to whom it is as
cribed." The Ninth and last Book explains at large the
nature and genius of the Christian Dispensa
tion. The whole concludes with one general but dis
tinct view of the entire course of God's universal
economy from Adam to Christ, In which it is
shown that, if Moses were indeed sent from God,
he could not teach a future state, that doctrine
being out of his commission, and reserved for Him
who was at the head of another dispensation, by
which life and immortality was to be brought to
light.

[Of the books of the Divine Legation above mentioned, the
first Six were published in the Author's lifetime. The Ninth
Book, though incomplete, was printed by the Author, but not
published till after his death. The Seventh and Eighth Books,
although materials for them had been collected, were never
finished. The following Fragments of these, as well as what
seems to be an Appendix to the Ninth Book, are now presented,
it is believed for the first time, to the Public. — Ed.]

divine legation of moses.

DIVINE LEGATION OF MOSES.
BOOK vii.

contents.
Begin with the words of Lucullus, Acad. Qu.
L, II. C. 15. "Cum duse causae," to " facere
constitui,"— p. 108. Davis's edit.
The preceding volumes have shewn, that the
early Jews were under an Extraordinary Provi
dence ; and secondly, that Moses did not teach
nor had they the knowledge of a Future State:
the first from the express declarations of their
leader ; the second from his profound silence.
Cavils against the fact in the first case; —
against the riyht in the other. I.
With regard to the fact, expose the illogical
demand of those cavillers who expect to have the
fact proved any other way than by the general
syllogism of the Divine Legation.
The Pentateuch affirms that an extraordinary
Providence was administered over that people.
How shall we know whether it was real or pre-

O UlVINE LEGATION OF MOSES.
tended ? I pretend to decide the question by the
meditim of " no future state," in this manner : — No
society, improved by civil policy, can subsist under
the ordinary adminstration of Providence without
the general knowledge and belief of a future state
in the national religion : The Mosaic Dispensation
had no future state, yet the society subsisted and
flourished ; — therefore, such society was supported
by an Extraordinary Providence.
Now comes a man who saw nothing of the force
of this reasoning, which proves \h&fact k priori,
and therefore thinks it incumbent on the author
to prove it a posteriori, and so raises many
cavils against the proof a posteriori. He did not
see (if he saw the proof a priori) that the proof
a priori blunted all the edge, and took away all
the force of his cavils, against the proof a poste
riori, from marks of inequality in the history of
the Jewish people. Yet this was the man who
spent his whole Hfe in debating logically. He
did not say, (though he had some confused notion
that he might say,) "If there be marks of in
equality, it destroys your argument a priori. Yet
all who understand what reason is, see that the
argument a priori, when fairly deduced, as in the
foregoing volumes, is a solution of the difficulty
arising from the marks of inequality which are
only doubtful, and are removed by the opposite
demonstration." However, ex abundanti, prove the fact a poste-

divine LEGATION OP MOSES. 9
riori, in confuting the cant of Sykes against it,
who, from appearances of inequality in the history,
concludes against the declaration of Moses, that
the Jews were under an Extraordinary Providence.
1 . The Jewish History proves nothing against
the express declaration, because the history is a
very succinct and imperfect account, occasionally
delivered, of the transactions of the republic, in
which the writers seem to have the proof of
Moses' declaration the least in their thoughts, as,
from their feelings, entertaining no doubt of the
nature of the Extraordinary Dispensation till
many ages afterwards. — These only apparent
marks. 2. The real marks of inequality arose from the
gradual decay of the Extraordinary Providence
explained in the foregoing volumes ; so that these,
instead of bearing against the fact, tend to
support it.
They endeavour to come off with the dis
tinction between Extraordinary Providence to the
state and to particulars ; — a proof that it extended
to particulars from several passages in the Law
and the Prophets. — The leprosy confutes the dis
tinction. II.
Removal of these cavils against \hefact of an
Extraordinaiy Providence, tends to establish the

10 divine legation of MOSES.
right in the other case of no future state. — Here
enlarge upon the reasoning I have urged to shew
that the Mosaic religion having no future state,
is no discredit to the divine original of it.

Proceed next to the history of the introduction
of the doctrine of a future state into the national
religion of the Jews.
It has been proved that the Jews had it not
in the early times of the republic. — Yet they were
possessed of it at the coming of Christ, and even
long before, — This to be accounted for and ex
plained, not so much to reconcile it to our capital
position (to which it is not averse), as to support
and confirm it.
From this we may safely conclude, that the
mind must continue labouring, with more or less
anxiety, till it settled in that state in which all
people acquiesced who had only the law of nature
for their guide, which made them conclude, that
the 
When the Jews had gone thus far, they would
naturally have recourse to the Books of their Law
to support the conclusions of natural reason.
These Books, after the return from their Captivity,
were become invariably their guide ; and from
that time they no longer kept lapsing into
idolatry.

divine legation of moses. 1 1
Note. — [Various reasons assigned for this,
both by believers and unbelievers. — Believers
generally acquiesce in the reason given by
Prideaux, that they now began to read the Law in
their synagogues. — A mistake — the effect for the
cause, — Practice of reading did not produce the
adherence, — but adherence produced the practice.
Causes of adherence. — I. The smart of so long a
captivity. — 2. They began reading the Bible under
growing improvements in science ; their know
ledge of the philosophic parts of Paganism ; till
now only acquainted with the popular ; their
knowledge that in the Gentile mysteries the one
God was taught : this showed the folly of their
former defections, — 3. Their abhorrence of their
enemies the Samaritans, who mixed Theism and
Polytheism together.- -4, Persecution.
The reason given by unbelievers of this prodi
gious change in their return from the Captivity is,
that the Jews got juster notions of the Divine Na
ture in those countries to which they were led
captive. In support of this reason, they give us
Hyde's Fable of Zoroaster. Now, admitting this
was no fable, yet the Jews would not seek in the
Bible of Zoroaster what they found with more ad
vantage in the Bible of Moses, and in the Com
ments of the Prophets, which give juster notions
of the Divinity than the pretended books of Zo
roaster. Zoroaster taught one God: Moses did
more than this, to prevent idolatry, [alleging] that

12 divine legation of moses.
this one God was a jealous God, who would not
share his glory with another. That the Law was
written after the Captivity deserves no answer.
But the truth is, the Zoroastrian Books are a vile
forgery ; the Greeks knew nothing of them. They
come down to us on the testimony of late Ma
hometan writers, and were forged since the
time of Mahomet, and all written for the
same purpose — to oppose to the Alcoran. The
Mahometan writers, who were no critics, admitted
their pretensions on the supposed good faith of
the forgers. Marks of the imposture — Zoroaster
left no writings.
Alcoran shows they had no Bible of Zoroaster.
Origen, indeed, puts him in the number of those
who left writings. See Spencer's Edit, of Orig.
cont. Cels. p. 14. Eusebius shows that there was
no book of his. That Hyde, who had as little
penetration as the Mahometan writers, should
be so deluded, is no wonder : the wonder was
that Prideaux should. But he thought it would
serve the cause of religion ; and he thought that
when he had persuaded infidels of the truth of this
fable, he could easily bring them to believe that
Zoroaster borrowed all from the Prophets. But
they are not so easy of belief. Fanciful supports
of Revelation always productive of much mischief
Why these fancies are to be opposed. — 1. Be
cause the great reason for the separation much
loeahened by such a fancy. — 2. Because it would

divine legation op moses. 13
contradict the Prophets, who say, tha one God was
publicly worshipped no where but in Judea alone.
The not distinguishing between the private teach
ing and the public worship of one God, made Cud-
worth, Stillingfleet, and Newton grossly mistake in
this matter. They cherished this mistake for the
reason (we have shown) Prideaux cherished his
about Zoroaster ; namely, because it might serve
religion. Great disservice ; which will always be
the case where error is employed to serve truth.
In a word, the Jews got nothing by their captivity,
but by turning their punishment to their profit by
a lasting repentance. On the return, they found
they had lost a great deal. Extr. Provid. how they
were affected by it. Book of Job shows. Yet that
rather to teach them humility and submission than
to instruct them. The reason the Jewish Prophets
did not teach them hfe and immortality, that be
longed to another dispensation. So the writer
does not decide, but leaves the two parties in pos
session of their opinions ; resolves all into the
unsearchable counsels of God.J
See the progress of the doctrine. At first the
denial of future state no heresy ; Sadducees not ex
communicated ; afterwards were ; and this was
natural in a doctrine deduced from Scripture with
so much difficulty, and from Paganism with so
much secresy. The Jewish Church, first content
with it as a truth, afterwards contending for it as

14 divine legation of moses.
a necessary tputh ; for, after the coming of Christ,
they found no other way of defending the Jewish
religion against the Gospel, as perfect and inde
pendent, but by maintaining that it taught a future
state. Strongest argument brought by Orobio for
it against Limberch, for no complete disperisation,
is, that the Jews had a future state.
Read Dassovius.
Jesus' treatment of the two sects explained :
severe to the Pharisees, more gentle to the Sad
ducees. Of the Sadducees he only says, " they do
err, not knowing the Scriptures nor the power of
God" and taking silence for denial. The Pharisees
much worse, who by their traditions had made
void the Law ; departed from the genius of it so far
as to supersede the power of the Gospel. The
Sadducees adhered to the genius of the Law;
found no future state ; and so showed the use and
necessity of the Gospel. What they erred in was,
mistaking the silence of the Law for a denial
of it.
The temper hkewise that Jesus observed with
regard to the doctrine of the two parties is very
remarkable. Life and immortality being brought
to light by the Gospel, his point was to show to
the Pharisees that the Law did not teach it ; and
against the Sadducees that the Law did not oppose
it. First to the Pharisees against their traditions ;
then to the Sadducees by the admirable reasoning
on the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

divine legation of moses. 15
See what P. Simon says of Jesus' argument, " I
am the God," &c. in his answer to the " Sentimens,"
p. 245.
The Pharisees made not only the Law but the
Gospel void by their traditions.
Recapitulation. — Shown how the Jews got the
doctrine of a future state ; useful for the support of
my main argument.

BOOK VIIL

The Pentateuch of Moses' composition. Read
Le Clere. One internal proof, no future state ;
one external, Samaritan Pentateuch. Character
of Moses and the people from the Pentateuch.
Character of Moses. No fanatic, proved from his
temper, mild and diffident ; from his Egyptian
education, in which every thing was done by pre
scribed legal forms, which damps all fanatical
flights. Though a fanatic, this would not have hindered
but forwarded a future state. Mahomet, though a
fanatic, long enough in the wilderness to cure him
of it. Fumes of fanaticism wear off.
A fanatic might imagine an Extraordinary Pro
vidence ; but this, so far from excluding a future
state, that it would naturally bring it in, as it did
among ancient legislators ; nay, necessarily, for a
pretence of Extraordinary Providence could only
be supported by future state.

16 DIVINE LEGATION OF MOSES.
Suppose him a cool impostor, — still more impro
bable that he should expose the pretence to Extra
ordinary Providence by not covering it with a
future state. He knew the use of a future state
to society in general, and particular use to his
people. Easy reception. Odin. Mahomet. Moses,
if not acting by commission, mad to reject a future
state, though pretending to Extraordinary Provi
dence ; because religion and society cannot subsist
without it, as he had been taught by his Egyptian
politics. Ancient legislators pretended to the
same. All taught a future state. He bound this
doctrine of Extraordinary Providence still stricter
on the expectations of the people by a theocracy ;
for by this he made an Extraordinary Providence
an equal one.
This not all ; he exposed his pretence to detec
tion, by many dangerous and heavy institutions,
without occasion. — Sabbatic year ; the annual re
pair to Jerusalem ; leprosy.
Besides, the pretence more desperate in their
circumstances ; secluded from all others in the
wilderness. Different thing in the commerce of
the world, for mutual aid supports the pre
tence. The reasoning of the Divine Legation has at
least had this effect, that it seems to have now be
come the general opinion, both of believers and
unbelievers, that Moses did not teach a future
state ; nor is it to be found in his Law.

DIVINE LEGATION OF MOSES. 17
And both have attempted to discover the reason
of the omission.
Unbelievers, (by the mouth of Lord B.) Moses
ignorant of the doctrine. That he could not dis
envelope from fables.
BeUevers, that he had no need to teach what
was known before. This true had he not pre
tended to a divine mission ; false as he did.
2. Not a proper occasion, as a system of laws.
This not true. The principal system was a system
of religion ; the laws only for the sake of the reli
gion. If only a system of laws, that no reason.
We find it in the ancient systems of laws both
practical and speculative. See Divine Legation,
vol. I.
3. The people headstrong, that future things
would not work upon.

18 APPENDIX TO THE NINTH BOOK
APPENDIX TO THE NINTH BOOK
OP THE
DIVINE LEGATION.

What I undertook in this volume was, to deliver
my thoughts concerning the nature and genius
OF THE Christian religion. This I have now
done ; but as the immediate occasion of my de
sign was to strengthen and support the idea I had
given of the nature of the Mosaic religion (on
which idea I erected my Moral Demonstration of
the Divine Legation of Moses), this discourse con
cerning the Christian religion had not answered its
purpose had I not, in the conclusion of it, turned
my eye particularly towards the support of that
moral demonstration ; not as the completion of an
unfinished argument (into which odd mistake many
of my inattentive readers had unluckily fallen) ;
but as the illustration only of an argument long
since finished and complete in all its parts. This
hath been shown and explained in the last section
of the sixth Book, to which I again refer such of
those readers whom the multiplicity of its parts,
delivered by long intervals, may have led into the
mistake; though an argument in itself so clear
and strong as to be reduced to a single syllogism.

OF THE DIVINE LEGATION. 19
There are few believers, perhaps, who do not see,
in the gross, that Judaism and Christianity are
intimately connected and related ; yet the Mosaic
religion having been, as the Apostle says, for wise
purposes of Providence thrust in * between the
natural law first given by God, and his last re
vealed will, committed to the ministry of Jesus,
that connexion between Judaism and Christianity
hath not been so precisely understood by many as
might have been expected.
By the first revelation to mankind in Paradise,
ETERNAL LIFE was promised, on the condition of
obedience. It was lost by disobedience ; and
DEATH, in consequence thereof, was denounced
on the human race. In this condition did man
kind lie when Moses had his commission to deliver
the second revealed Will of God to the posterity
of Abraham, who stiU continued, with the rest of
mankind, under the curse or punishment of death ;
so far lightened, indeed, by the law of nature
(which operated throughout every part of the mo
ral dispensation), by that law's teaching that God
would reward for obedience and punish for disobe
dience. Hence we see that the sanction of the
Law of Moses must needs be the same with the
sanction of the law of nature.
The later Jews especiaUy thought, indeed, that
their Law had redeemed its followers from the
* Gal. ii. 19.
c 2

20 APPENDIX TO THE NINTH BOOK
curse denounced on Adam and his posterity ; and
so considered it as a perfect Law in opposition to
Christianity. But the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews
tells another story.* " The Law (says he) made
nothing perfect : itwas the bringing in ofa better
HOPE which effected this." The Jew, then, was
ready to ask, as Saint Paul tells us he did, " Where
fore then serveth the Law ?" The Apostle an
swers, " It was added (or thrust in between the
promise to Abraham and the performance by Jesus
Christ) because of transgressions, till the Seed
should come to whom the promise was made ;"-^
i. e. it was added in order to restrain vice and im
morality. For though eternal life was the reward
of faith in Jesus Christ, yet, as we have shown,
none were entitled to that reward but those who
had a right to some reward by the law of nature,
some provision was first to be made for that
previous qualification. So much order and har
mony will be always found in the ordinances of
God. And this may be no improper place to reprove
the folly of those objectors, who say that a Revela
tion which did not teach a future state could not
come from God.
The reasons they give are these :
* Heb. vii. 19. t Gal. ii. 19.

OF THE DIVINE LEGATION. 21
1 . Because a future state is essential to all
true religion.
2. Because a religion without a future state
infringes on the attributes of the Deity.
] . To the first objection (for I am now reason
ing on the principles of believers) I answer, and say,
that the first notice we have of a state teaching im
mortal life, is from revealed religion, given to man
in Paradise ; by which it was bestowed on the con
dition of obedience to God's declared will, Man
disobeyed, and forfeited this gift, and so was
brought back, and became a second time the sub
ject of natural religion. The state of mortality or
DEATH prevailed over all, under which he still
continued even after God had communicated his
revealed will to the posterity of Abraham by the
ministry of Moses. If therefore Moses did indeed
receive his religion from heaven, it could not con
tain but by accident the doctrine of a future state ;
for Adam's forfeiture was not yet remitted.
And this leads us to a solution of the second
objection, that a religion without a future state
infringes on the attributes of the Deity.
The truth or reason on which this assertion is
founded stands on a mistaken supposition, that
when man was confined to God's moral govern
ment here. Providence was unequally dispensed as
at present. In this case, indeed, the cutting off
a future state would render the second objection of
some force. But this was not the case; for when man

22 APPENDIX TO THE NINTH BOOK
lost immortal Kfe by his disobedience, and became
subject to death or mortality, the dispensation of
God's Providence here was equal, and nothing was
wanted to be set right hereafter. If the loss of
immortality, and subjection to death and morta
lity, will not give God's government credit for this
truth, the history of Moses expressly informs us
of the contrary, and assures us, that in the early
ages of the world, God's Pro\Tidence in his govern
ment of man was equal. This appears jfrom the
history of the Patriarchs ; the great deluge ; the
fate of Sodom and Gomorrah ; the history of
Abraham and his posterity till their settlement in
Egypt, when they soon forgot their God, and on
that account were reduced to the unequal admi
nistration of Providence, as the Gentiles were
about the same period, and for the same cause.
But when Moses was sent to lead the Israehtes
into Canaan, and to instruct them in the know
ledge of the true God, the equal Providence was
restored to them, not as a mere peculiarity of the
Jewish republic (in which light, indeed, our argu
ment on the Divine Legation confined us to con
sider it), but as the general dispensation of Pro
vidence to man, while he preserved the memory of
the true God. The confined view of it in that
argument led the opposers of the Divine Legation
of Moses, who considered an equal Providence as
only proper to the Jewish republic, to acknowledge
that an equal Providence (because so incessantly

OP THE DIVINE LEGATION. 23
affirmed by Moses) did indeed operate over the
state, but extended not to particulars. A mistake
which, now we are come to a more enlarged view
of the case, is easily confuted. For if an equal
Providence followed the condition of man under
the denunciation of death and mortality, as it
certainly did, conformably to our ideas of the Di
vine attributes, then this equal Providence, not
being administered primarily or principally for
the sake of societies, but for the sake of indivi
duals, we must conclude that the equal Providence
of which Moses spoke so much must needs extend
to particulars, though, in his history of that re
public, the memory of it was chiefly preserved as
it affected the state.
All this will remove a difficulty frequently ob
jected to the argument of the Divine Legation,
that it is hard to conceive that the Jewish reli
gion, given from God by the ministry of Moses,
should want the doctrine of a future state, at the
time when the Gentiles taught it in all their na
tional religions. The solution of this difficulty is
easy, and serves to confirm the argument of the
Divine Legation.
We have observed, the Providence of God was
equally dispensed to the children of men while
they retained the memory of the true God ; but
when they lost that, and fell into universal ido
latry, and that established in their national reli
gions, the equal Providence was withdrawn. But

24 APPENDIX TO THE NINTH BOOK
a rehgion could not long subsist which was seen
to violate the moral attributes of the Deity. And
religion under an unequal Providence, without a
future state, was seen to imply such a violation.
The Gentiles, therefore, as soon as this evil was
observed, had recourse to the principles of natural
religion, which, in this state of things, taught a
future state. But at this time the Jews, by their
having recovered the knowledge of the true God,
enjoyed an equal Providence ; and while they did
so they were not driven, in order to preserve the
moral attributes of the Deity, to have recourse to
the doctrine of a future state : being at the same
time withheld from such recourse by their reverence
to the Law, which forbad their adding to it, espe
cially this addition, which would not have qua
drated with that revelation denounced on man at
the fall, inflicting mortahty and death on the
human race, exclusive of a future state. The con
sequence of this was, that (in order to save the
moral attributes) it brought on an equal Provi
dence, under the hmitations above mentioned.
Such order, consistency, and harmony there is in
the Divine dispensations ! It was not till a long
time after that the Jews lost this equal Providence -.
and when they did, though not for the same cause
that the Gentiles lost it, namely, their losing me
mory of the true God ; for at the time the equal
Providence was drawn from them (which was not
till the return from the Captivity) they adhered

OP THE DIVINE LEGATION. 25
more constantly to the Law than ever : but they
were deprived of it in part for their innumerable
past transgressions, and in part to prepare them for
a more perfect dispensation.
And as soon as they came (hke the Gentiles)
under this unequal dispensation, they had, as the
Gentiles had before them, recourse to a future
state for the support of religion ; in which support
they had advantages superior to the Gentiles by
the Law of Moses : for though that taught no fu
ture state, yet, by giving more precise ideas of the
attributes of the Godhead, and thereby regulating
their notions of what natural religion taught con
cerning that matter, it taught them more steadily,
when reduced to an unequal Providence like their
neighbours, what to think of a future state.
But to be more particular on this important
subject. The former volumes brought down the
administration of the Jewish economy to the time
of the return from the Captivity, when the decay
of the Extraordinary Providence began to occasion
anxious doubts concerning God's accustomed care
of his chosen people : and the final withdrawing of
that administration of Providence, which soon fol
lowed, introduced for their consolation the doc
trine of a future state amongst them, as we have
observed it had done amongst the Gentiles ; and
by the aid of the same principles of the religion
of nature (preserved purer amongst them than
amongst the Gentiles), with this difference, that

26 APPENDIX TO THE NINTH BOOK
the Jews, in reverence to their Law, endeavoured to
find it there likewise.
But before this, in their first anxious state of
doubt after the Captivity, and immediately before
the equal Providence was totally withdrawn, one of
their later Prophets, in order to aUay the tumultu
ous workings of the human mind under this state,
wrote (as I have shown) the story of the Book of
Job for their consolation, which was to be sought
for in a pious submission and resignation to the
unsearchable ways of God. For at this precise
juncture they were neither to be encouraged, as
they had been by Moses, with an Extraordinary
Providence in their favour ; nor, on the other
hand, to be instructed by the Prophets of the
Law in the doctrine of life and immortality, — a
doctrine reserved for the ministers of Jesus. A
cheerful resignation of themselves into the hands
of God was the only means left for the catastrophe
of this dramatic story ; where the one party main
tained the continuance of the Extraordinary Pro
vidence as it was administered in the early times
of the Republic, and the other party contended
for a different administration, unsupported by a
future state.
If it be asked, how, at the time which I assign
for the writing of the Book of Job, namely, after
the return from the Captivity, there could be two
opinions concerning this matter ? I answer, that
they know little of the human frame who can be-

OF THE DIVINE LEGATION. 27
lieve that even the clearest evidence of the change
of the mode in administering Providence would
immediately remove the strong and inveterate pre
judices which had arisen out of an old and expe
rienced truth, of a nature so important and inte
resting, Biit what degree of content or satisfaction this
solution, given by the Prophet in the name of God
[afforded] , or how long it continued to have its de
signed effect, we know not.
History, as it could in its nature afford but little
intelhgence concerning the time of the first esta
blishment of a new doctrine of human invention,
is silent ; because such establishment comes on by
slow degrees. From hence, however, we may rea
sonably conclude, that the mind of this people
must continue labouring under more or less
anxiety concerning the mode of God's moral go
vernment, till it settled in that state in which the
Gentiles acquiesced under an unequal Providence,
whom the law of nature, which was their only
guide, taught to conclude that the inequalities of
Providence which they observed here would be
set right hereafter.
The adversaries of the Divine Legation and I
differ only in this : I say that the Jews had not re
course to this consolation till the time I assign for
it, which was long after the Gentiles were in pos
session of it. My adversaries think this absurd,
and for that very reason. They are supported in

28 APPENDIX TO THE NINTH BOOK
their opposition to me by the opinion of two very
eminent men, who scarce agree in any thing be
sides ; and in this too they take different roads to
prove their point. M. Le Clere, of Amsterdam,
having said, " it seems altogether absurd to sup
pose that the Pagans had the knowledge of an
other life besides this, many ages before the people
of God spoke of any such thing :" attempts to
prove that the Jews had the doctrine of a future
state even from the most early times : and to sup
port which point, he gives a spiritual sense to the
passages of Scripture from whence that doctrine
may, he thinks, be deduced. P^re Simon goes
another way to work. He gives a literal and
more natural sense to the same passages ; and
concludes, that in Scripture the doctrine of a
future state is not to be found ; and therefore adds,
" We do not see clearly in Scripture that the Jews
spoke of another life till after the dominion of the
Greeks." Yet the common opinion that the Jews
always had this doctrine was not to be parted
with ; and therefore he goes on thus : " It was,
indeed, at this time that the Jews began to talk
with precision and the utmost clearness of this
matter. The truth of the doctrine was preserved
amongst them till then by the sole virtue of tra
dition." This was an arch fetch in Father Simon
to support the opinion that he and the Protestant
Doctor had in common, concerning the antiquity
of a future state amongst the Jews, by a Popish

OF THE DIVINE LEGATION, 29
tradition, the virtue of which the Protestant
Doctor could never allow ; who therefore sticks to
his spiritualizing scheme, and haughtily confesses,
that there is nothing in Scripture which can appear
with the utmost clearness to those who are not
perfect masters of the Hebrew tongue. But the
reasoning of our Lord against the Sadducees
makes it sufficiently evident, that those who under
stand it well, feel in the expressions that which
everybody does not feel at present. But did not the
Sadducees know the Hebrew tongue to the bottom ?
Yet from that knowledge they could not collect the
truth of a future state, tiU Jesus enforced it upon
them, not from any more profound knowledge of
that tongue, but from a logical deduction, till
then unperceived by them. [See what I say of it
in the Divine Legation.] Le Clere might have
seen, which I suppose P^re Simon did see, that
throughout the whole historic part of Scripture it
does not appear that any one ever acted on, or was
influenced by the doctrine of a future state. From
this I concluded that they had not that doctrine ;
and so would these two disputants likewise, had they
not cast behind them a truth which I always had in
mind, namely, that which was so incessantly incul
cated by Moses, that his people were under an
equal Providence, which prevented their standing
in need of this contested doctrine; and what they
needed not, the principles on which the Jewish
Revelation was erected hindered them from

30 appendix to the ninth BOOK
attending to. As soon as they needed it, they had
recourse to the principles of natural religion, which
always accompanied the revealed ; and these led
them, as it did the Pagans, to the belief of a future
state. In the firmer establishment of this doctrine
the Jews had aids which the Gentiles wanted.
I . Their knowledge of the One true GOD (which
the Pagans wanted), purified and perfected their
ideas of the rehgion of nature. For on the at
tributes of the Deity, the firmest assurance of a
future state was erected.
2. By the aid of the Mosaic rehgion ; for though,
for the reason given above, they got the doctrine
of a future state later than the Gentiles, yet when
they were possessed of it, and by the same
arguments which natural religion offered to the
Gentiles, their behef was further supported by the
genius of the Mosaic religion ; first by an erroneous
interpretation, indeed, but easily fallen into, of
their more early Prophets ; and then by a right
interpretation of the later.
Their earHer Prophets, whose more constant
subject was the restoration of their republic to its
ancient splendour, when the case seemed most
desperate by the Pagan inroads upon it, at the
time of their impending captivity.* This they pre
dicted figuratively, but by the most natural of all
figures, the restoration of the human body to life,
* Sic.

OF THE DIVINE LEGATION. 31
after it had been dissolved by death : — the most
illustrious of which is the vision of the dry bones
in Ezekiel. This, though evidently only a prophesy
of the restoration of the Jewish republic, they
falsely interpreted, having now got the idea of a
future state, to signify the revival of the human
body to life.
In the same class of mistaken interpretation I
do not hesitate to put the prophesy of Daniel xii.
2. " And many of them that sleep in the dust of
the earth shall awake ; some to everlasting life, and
some to shame and everlasting contempt." This,
it is true, hath been generally interpreted of a
future state both by Jews and Christians. But
Houbigant, the latest and the most rational and
profound of these interpreters, in his comment on
this text, supposes it to relate to another thing,
namely to the restoration of the Jewish repubhc,
as plainly as the parable of the dry bones ; since
the context shews the subject to be the same in
both, viz. that restoration. Grotius was, for the
same reason, of the same opinion ; but, according
to his wont, supposes it to mean a future state in
its secondary sense ; and very reasonably, as the
new dispensation was now about to begin and
disclose itself. And what particularly favours
Grotius's opinion of this secondary sense, which
was not instantly to be revealed with the utmost
clearness, is, the direction Daniel received, to " shut
up these words and to seal the book, even to the

32 APPENDIX TO THE NINTH BOOK
time of the end, when many shaU run to and fro,
and knowledge shall be increased."*
But it is worth remarking, that these mistaken
interpretations led the Jews to an important truth
which the Gentiles never dreamed of, that is to
say, THE RESURRECTION OF THE BODY, first re
vealed by Jesus.
To proceed. The right interpretation which
the Jews gave to the predictions of their later
prophets, stiU helped them forward in this funda
mental truth, the belief of a future state, in their
predictions of a new and more perfect dispensa
tion. Isaiah says, '^^ Behold, I create new heavens
and a new earth ; and the former shall not be
remembered, nor come into mind."'^- — The Prophet
goes on to declare that the sanction should be
changed, — the necessary consequence ofthe change
of the dispensation. — " There shall be no more
thence an infant of days :  for the child
shall die an hundred years old, but the sinner being
an hundred years old shall be accursed ;"^ i. e. the
sanction of temporal rewards and punishments
shaU be no longer administered in an extraordinary
manner. For we must remember, that long life
for obedience, and sudden and untimely death for
transgressions, bore an eminent part in the
sanction of the Jewish law.
* Daniel, xii. 4. f Isaiah, lxv. 17. J Ibid. v. 20.

OF THE DIVINE LEGATION. 33
Jeremiah too, Hke Isaiah, fixes the true nature
of this dispensation, by declaring the change of
the SANCTION : " In those days they shall say no
more. The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the
children's teeth are set on edge ; but every one shall
die for his own iniquity : every man that eateth the
sour grape, his teeth shall be set on edge* " — for it
was part of the sanction of the Jewish law, that
children should bear the iniquity of their fathers.
[See this explained. Book . . Sect. . .]
" Behold the days come, saith the Lord (by the
same prophet), that I will make a new covenant
with the House oflsrael-f." For the Jews having
explained the prophesies which concerned the
restoration of their faUen repubHc, to signify the
resurrection of the natural body dissolved by
death ; this wrong interpretation of one prophesy
led them to a right one in another, namely, that
which predicted the change of the dispensation,
though delivered in the figurative language of a
new Heaven and a new Earth, which change from
carnal to spiritual was clearly intimated by these
words : " My thoughts are not as your thoughts,
(saith the Lord,) for as the Heavens are higher
than the earth, so are my ways higher than your
ways, and my thoughts than your thoughtsX" But
this at the same time must be observed, that
these interpretations, as well the false as the true,
* Jeremiah, xxxi. 29, 30. t Ibid. 31. % Isaiah, Iv. 8, 9.
D

34 APPENDIX TO THE NINTH BOOK
of which the false led to the true, were not made
till after the expiration of the Extraordinary
Providence, and much later than the times that
the Gentiles had established amongst themselves
the doctrine of a future state. For, to repeat again
what has been observed before, while they con
tinued under an Extraordinary Providence, the
Mosaic religion did not need the doctrine of a
future state for its support ; and what it did not
need would not be brought into a dispensation,
which was a continua,nce of the scheme which
followed the Fall.
But the Jews, not content with those surer
guides the Holy Scriptures, which brought in
amongst them the doctrine of a future state, even
when wrongly interpreted, sought for further
support of it in gentile philosophy, which they
now became acquainted with, and soon became
fond of their fanciful speculations.
We have observed, that they sought for and
found in the doctrine of a future state in general,
the defence of the divine attributes. But their
pagan metaphysics made them fancy that more
was required for this defence, namely, the belief of
a prior state, which brought into credit the
Pythagorean metempsychosis. And in this form
and condition, was that prior state interwoven into
tbe national doctrine of another life, from the time
of writing the books of the Maccabees and the
other apocryphal books, so that at the appearance

OF THE DIVINE LEGATION OF MOSES. 35
of Christ, the prior state was on the same foot of
credit with the future.
These speculations made a great change in
t^6  * of the Jewish rehgion, and
introduced sects or schools of various principles
amongst them. But these being evidently seen
not to make part of the law, and their date and
rise being evidently traced, they did not, Hke the
pagan sects before them, reprobate one another,
or Hke the Christian sects after them, on their first
rise, reprobate or damn one another. Afterwards,
indeed, when by force of fanciful speculation they
believed the.se doctrines to be contained in
Scripture, they did, as the pagans in their schools
had done before them- — who had a wider range to
distinguish between truth and falsehood, — grew as
earnest as they were, and as the Christians did
after them, who found these dogmata in truth in
the religion of Christ. But this was not tiU after
the perfect establishment of the doctrines in
question ; and then a resurrection from the dead,
which the Sadducees might at first deny with im
punity, ... * were afterwards accursed for holding.
These four sects, which continued in communion
with one another, (for the reason given above,
because they found nothing of them in the law,)
were the Pharisees, the Sadducees, the Essenians,
and' the Herodians, of which we shall at present
have occasion only to give a very succinct account.
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sort of curiosity is childish, it is at any rate so general, that one may
be well excused for sharing it. Autographs, and Fac-similes
of Autographs, are seen with great interest, even when they
consist only ofa signature, or a few indifferent words." — ^Let
ters or the Earl of Dudley to the Bishop of Llan
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CORRESPONDENCE

RELATIVE TO THE

DIVINE LEGATION

39

CORRESPONDENCE
RELATIVE TO THE DIVINE LEGATION.

THE REV. W. WARBURTON TO

Before I enter on the matters in question, I wiU
beg leave to premise this general observation, that
these objectors, by their arguments, seem to sup
pose my thesis to be, that Moses not only did not
teach, but Hkewise did not believe a future state ;
otherwise why am I urged with the .spiritual
meaning of his law ? This must be owing, either
to great prevarication or inattention to my subject.
For my professed design to prove his law divine,
and to prove Christianity to be built upon it, ne
cessarily supposes his belief of a future state.
As to the answer Abraham is made to give to
the rich man in torments, Luke, xvi. 31, ''If
they hear not Moses and the Prophets, neither
will they be persuaded though one rose from the
dead," these objectors seem quite to mistake the
whole drift and turn of the argument. Had this
parable been made to the Sadducees, who denied
a resurrection, and the rich man represented as a

40 CORRESPONDENCE ON
Sadducee, who was too late informed of his error,
and wanted to undeceive his father's house, which
his evil doctrines had misled, there had been some
ground for the inference they would draw from
the text.
On the contrary, the parable is expressly
directed to the Pharisees, the great maintainers
and supporters of a future state, as you wiU see in
my next volume. The common rules, then, of
interpretation, show us, that what the rich man's
brethren wanted to be confirmed in was, that God
was, indeed, that severe punisher of luxury and
uncharitableness ; not that there was a future
state : and this the rich man thought would be
best done by a miracle, " If one went unto them
from the dead, they will repent," to which the
reply of Abraham is admirable, and to this effect,
"If they will not hear Moses and the Prophets,
whose authority they acknowledge, and whose
missions were confirmed by so many miracles,
they will not regard this miracle of the resurrec
tion of a dead man ; [for did the Pharisees repent
the more for the resurrection of that Lazarus,
namesake to this in the parable ?] Now Moses
and the prophets have denounced the most severe
threatenings, on the part of God, against vice."
This is the force of the argument ; and you see the
question of a future state is no more concerned in
it than thus far, that God will punish either here
or hereafter. Moses and the Prophets threatened

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 41
the punishment here ; and here it was long in
flicted on the Jews, living under the dispensation
of an Extraordinary Providence. When that
ceased, the Jews began to entertain reasonable
hopes of another life, where all inequalities should
be set even, and God's threats and promises to
them fulfilled. But more of this in my next
volume. John, V. 39, "Search the Scriptures, for in
them ye think ye have eternal life, and they are
they which testify of me." The argument stands
thus against the unbelieving Pharisees, "The
Scriptures, (says Jesus,) I affirm to you, and am
ready to prove, testify of me. What reason, then,
have you to reject me ? Surely it is not because I
have brought Hfe and immortality to Hght ; for
you yourselves interpret several passages in those
Scriptures in a spiritual sense, to signify the pro
mise of eternal life, as particularly Deuteronomy,
xxxiu. 27."
But not only the force of the reasoning, but
the grammatical sense of the words [vou think
you have] show that, concerning Moses' teaching
eternal life, he argues ad hominem, and refers to
their spiritual interpretation of texts : which is
further confirmed from hence, that when he
argues with the Sadducees, who received the five
books of Moses, he quotes or refers to no such
passages so interpreted, but uses, as we shall see,
another kind of argument.

42 CORRESPONDENCE ON
Acts, xxvi. 22, 23. The reflections on the
preceding text will perfectly clear up this. St.
Paul here teUs us, that, " after the most strictest
sect of his religion, he lived a Pharisee " * and like
them he interpreted Moses and the prophets, con
cerning Jesus and a resurrection, in a spiritual
sense ; which sense I as much believe and rever
ence as these objectors. But what objection it is
to my thesis, we shall now examine, as it comes
the next in order.
That the law was spiritual they appeal to Ro
mans, vii. 14 ; that is, had a spiritual mean
ing. This I allow ; and what is more, only desire
this to establish my thesis. The objectors, as well
as I, suppose that the Jewish and Christian reli
gions are two dependent parts of one grand dis
pensation Now St. Paul tells us the order
of this dispensation, 1st Corinthians, xv. 46,
"that was not first which is spiritual, but that
which is natural ; and afterwards that which is
spiritual." Nay, these very divines tell us, that
the reason why Moses did not teach a future state
plainly, as Christ did, was, because the Jews were
a carnal people, incapacitated for spiritual things.
The consequence from all this is evident, that the
spiritual sense was reserved for better times.
These divines own further, that only temporal re
wards and punishments were expressly promised ;
* Acts, xxvi. 5.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 43
and that these promises were fulfilled, the Jews
living for some time under an extraordinary dis
pensation. Would not this, then, confine those
Jews to the literal sense ? This dispensation after
the captivity ceased ; and then they would, and
then they did, excogitate the spiritual sense. Is
not here the strongest demonstration of the truth
of my scheme ?
But, contrary to the order of things, contrary
to Scripture, contrary to their own systems, they
will now have it, that this spiritual sense always
went along with the literal ; which is so strangely
absurd, that it takes away the very ground and
reason of two senses ; for if they were always
capable of a spiritual sense, what occasion for a
carnal one, this Schoolmaster (as St. Paul calls it),
to bring us to Christ ? but let us hear their rea
sons :
The first is from Hebrews, iv. 2, ''For unto
us was the Gospel preached, as well as unto
them." This argument is founded on as errant a
quibble as ever disgraced reason. The writer of
the Epistle to the Hebrews is here showing that
the promise of coming into the land of Canaan
was a type of Christ's promise of eternal life.
" But," says he, " we see the Israelites could not
enter into that land, because of unbelief. It be
hoves us, therefore, who have the promise of a
heavenly country, of which Canaan was a type, to
fear, lest the same cause of unbelief should occa-

44 CORRESPONDENCE ON
sion our miscarriage ; for we have the promise of
the kingdom of heaven [unto us was the Gospel
preached], given us by Christ, even as they had
the promise of the kingdom of Canaan [as well as
unto them], given by Moses." This is the sense
of the passage ; in which there is not the least in
timation that the Jews had any Gospel truths
preached to them, but the contrary; EuayyeXi^ojxaj,
the word here used, signifying any glad tidings or
revelation of God's will published to man. This
is the sense here, though it be frequently used to
signify the having the Gospel preached.
The second is from viii. 5. Priests who
serve unto the example and shadow of heavenly
things, as Moses was admonished of God, when
he was about to make the tabernacle. Could
these objectors find a passage which tells us,
that, as Moses was admonished of God about
the spiritual sense, so he admonished the people,
it would be to some purpose. But what objection
is it to my scheme, or to anything I have said
above, that Moses was admonished of God about
the spiritual sense of the law ? I all along sup
pose and contend for this truth, in contending for
the divinity of his mission. For if Abraham
desired to see Christ's day, and saw it, and was
glad, can we suppose that Moses, who had a
higher office in the ministry of God's dispensa
tions, should be denied this favour ? But then,
though these, I say, be my sentiments of Moses'

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 45
illumination, this text is ill produced to prove it ;
the meaning of the words is very different from
what these objectors apprehend. They suppose
the sense to be, " that the priests served unto the
example and shadow of heavenly things, and that
this truth that they did so, was revealed to
Moses ;" whereas, the words. As Moses was ad
monished of God, are a simihtude or comparison
that conveys a quite different sense, and to this
purpose : " the Priests that offer gifts according to
the law, serve unto the example and shadow of
heavenly things, in as exact and close a manner
as that tabernacle which Moses was admonished
of God to make, answered to the pattern of it
shown to him by God in the mount." Not only
the argument the Apostle is upon, but the exact
propriety of the word " )(^pr^[i.oLri^(o," requires this
sense, which signifies the directions or commands
of an oracle, or a magistrate, to do anything in
the manner laid down. This " xPW^'^*'^l^°^" ^r
command and direction, we find in Exodus,
xxv. 40, " And look that thou make them after
this pattern, which was showed thee in the
Mount." They ask next, in what the image of God in
Adam consisted ? They suppose, without doubt,
in his having an immaterial soul. I say, it could
not, and for this plain reason,— according to the
best philosophy, it is proved that man has an im
material soul ; but those arguments employed to

46 CORRESPONDENCE ON
prove this, prove at the same time, that every
animal has an immaterial soul (and this without
any hurt to rehgion) Hkewise. An immaterial
soul, then, being common to all, and it being
something peculiar to man in which consisted this
image of God, it could not be his immaterial soul.
The only two things peculiar to man, are his shape
and his reason. None but an anthropomorphite
can say it is the first ; it must therefore be reason
that made him in the image of God ; ani so this
difficulty is solved.
But what is the meaning of the tree of life ?
To deduce the Jews' belief of a future state from
their belief of the story of the tree of life, is an
argument of a very singular cast. For the Scrip
ture that tells them of this tree of life, tells them
that Adam and all his posterity forfeited all benefit
from it ; and that it was guarded from their in
trusion by cherubim and a flaming sword. This
surely should rather make them disbeheve a future
state. The reason for the prohibition of murder
is answered above, As to Abel's faith, we shall
clear up that matter presently. As to Enoch's
translation, that alone could no more make them
expect a future state, than it could make them
expect to be translated in the manner he was.
Besides, this story is related in so obscure a man
ner as makes it evident the writer did not intend
thereby to inculcate the notion of a future state.
Elijah's translation is much plainer told, and for

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 4/
reasons I shall explain in my book ; but neither
from this could they reasonably collect the future
state of man in general, as I there show from the
notions and opinions of the ancient world. As to
the phrases, "they were gathered to their fathers,"
" slept with their fathers," they are merely Eastern
figurative expressions, and very beautiful ones too,
to signify death, and being buried in family sepul
chres, as was the custom of antiquity.
But now we come to the famous eleventh chap
ter to the Hebrews. This is their palmary argu
ment. I have been urged with this, you may be
sure, very often ; nay, I have been told that some
certain people of consequence are assured that I
imend, first of all, to endeavour to overthrow the
authority of this Epistle, that lies so terribly in
my way ; but they know, it seems, more of my
scheme than I do. It is in vain to teU them that
I shall be so far from endeavouring to overthrow
the authority of it, that I shall employ this very
chapter as a convincing proof of the truth of my
whole system. To understand this matter aright,
we are to observe, that the disciples of Christ
preached up faith, as that which was to entitle to
everlasting life. This shocked the Jews, who were
all along taught that whata^^er rewards they were
to expect from God, it was for their works, or for
the observation of his commands. The writer of
this Epistle, then, having to combat this prejudice,
endeavours to show them that it was faith and not

48 CORRESPONDENCE ON
works, that made the patriarchs before the giving
of the law, and the prophets after, acceptable to
God ; and instances in many particulars quite
throughout. But now, what faith does the writer
mean ? We shall err egregiously if we think it
was that which Christians call faith, "Kar' i^o^'^v,"
namely, the belief in the Messiah. No, the faith
there meant quite throughout, is the believing
God's revelations or promises to them whatever
they were, or in whatever degree. For can any
one believe that Abraham's faith and Rahab's were
the same ? But to show what I say with the
utmost evidence, let us compare these two places
together, v. 33, " who through faith obtained pro
mises," and V. 39, " and these aU having obtained
a good report through faith received not the pro
mises." In the first verse we see that promises
were made to these several holy men, and we
know from the Scriptures these were of several
kinds, according to their states or circumstances ;
and the obtaining those promises was the reward
of their faith. But what faith ? why, full assur
ance that God would make good those promises.
But that these promises were not the promises of
the redemption of mankind by Christ, is plain
from the other text, "^11 these received not the
promises," meaning those. But men have no
faith in what is not promised; therefore the faith,
mentioned quite throughout .this chapter, is not

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 4§
the Faith, but faith and confidence in God's vera
city in general. It is true, that in this chapter
the patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, are
said to " desire a better country, that is, a hea
venly ;" and I am far from denying that the holy
men of old amongst the Jews, greatly favoured by
God, had intimations of redemption by Christ.
All that I am concerned to show is, that the gene
ral body of the Jews during the Theocracy had not.
And, by good luck, we have this very writer
affirming this truth ; for, after having recapitu
lated the faith of particulars, and shown that some
had some knowledge of Christ's day, he turns
from particulars to the body of the people, and
says, "these all received not the promises," and,
lest we should mistake him, he gives a reason for
it, " God having provided some better thing for us,
that they without us should not be made perfect."
Now, the redemption of mankind and eternal life, is
a thing that could be known no other way than
by promise. As to what is delivered in v. 35, "a
better resurrection," the time of the Maccabees is
there hinted at, and at that time it is certain that
a future state was a national doctrine. The last
is Matthew, xxii. 31. A plain man, from this
celebrated text, would have concluded just the
contrary from these objectors, that, as this was the
strongest text (as to be sure it was from our
Saviour's choosing it) in the books of Moses for
E

50 CORRESPONDENCE ON
a future state, it could never from those books be
known to the people ; but to explain this matter
would take up more paper than I have to spare.
I wiU conclude. Sir, this long letter (a trouble
you have brought upon yourself) with this general
observation : nothing, you see, can be weaker
than these objections ; but, suppose they had any
difficulty in them that could not on my scheme
be well accounted for, they could never affect it ;
and I will tell you the reason why : my objectors
go all along upon this supposition, " that all the
strength of my scheme is built upon a mere nega
tive, namely, the omission of a future state in
Moses' law." But in this they are deceived ; for
I shaU prove from the whole history of the actions
of that people, that they had it not till after the
captivity, and that in so strong a manner,, that,
was Moses' law lost, and the rest of the sacred
books remaining, a fair proof might thence be
deduced, that it never was in that law.

REV. W. WARBURTON TO THE BISHOP OF
SALISBURY (sHERLOCK). January 27, 1737.
Your Lordship knows, that from the Magis
trate's large share in the establishment of national
religion, two consequences are drawn ; the one
by believers, the other by infidels. The first con-

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 51
elude, that therefore these national religions are
of human original ; and this the fathers them
selves spent much pains to prove. The second
conclude, from the same fact, that therefore reli
gion in general, or the idea of the relation be
tween the creature and the Creator, was a human
invention. This, and this conclusion only, I
imagined it my business to contest. And if in
confuting this I strengthened or estabhshed the
other conclusion, namely, that superstition was
of human original, I supposed that, in so doing, I
added additional strength to, rather than took
away from, the cause we support. And though
infidels, indeed, in their writings, affect much to
dwell upon this conclusion, that superstition was
of human invention, it is not, I presume, on ac
count of any service that wiU do their cause, but
because it enables them to strike obliquely under
that cover at religion in general. For, should
they ever take it into their heads to deny that
there is any better proof of superstition being an
human invention, than that religion in general is,
it would be then very incumbent on the defenders
of revelation to show the difference. So that, if I
prove that religion in general, or the idea of the
relation between the creature and the Creator, was
not a human invention, I presume I take off all
the force of the atheist's argument against reve
lation, arising from the invention of religion ; for
that superstition was a human invention, both
E 2

52 CORRESPONDENCE ON
parties seem to be agreed in. Indeed, the case is
different as to the particular superstitions of the
Church of Rome, because both parties are not
agreed in their original. If, therefore, a Protes
tant should charge them on the priests of that
church, and an advocate for Popery should pre
tend to wipe off the charge, by proving them in
vented by the people before the clergy came in to
bear their part, this would, as your Lordship most
justly observes, prove a very ridiculous defence.
For the ground of difference stiU remains ; or,
rather, the point is given up by the defender, in
proving them the product of the people, when he
should have shown them to be as old as the
founders of Christianity.
Your Lordship has made me but too sensible of
the inconveniences of publishing the first part
alone, and of its bearing the title of the whole.
I have, as your Lordship is so good to direct, en
deavoured to remedy it what I could, in the ad
vertisement to the reader.
I have said a good deal of the force of ridicule
in my Address to the Freethinkers ; but I was
never made so sensible of it, as in your Lordship's
very agreeable and apposite application of the
preacher's method to mine. It, indeed, shows me
in a Hght so pleasantly ridiculous, that I could not
forbear laughing, though so much at my own ex
pense. I am, certainly, very justly liable to your
censure ; and the most I can say in extenuation is

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 53
only this, that (except the case of the philoso
pher's belief) the use of every observation I have
made, throughout the whole volume, to our holy
religion, may be easily seen without the subse
quent part. It is true that that single exception
includes a great deal. But then your Lordship
will be so good to observe, that the point to be
proved in my defence of Moses, is not that the
doctrine of a future state of rewards and punish
ments is true ; {that I take for granted, or leave
for others to prove ;) but that it is so useful that
no lawgiver, without divine assistance, could be
able to leave it out of his scheme of government.
The consequence of this is, that that discourse of
the philosopher's belief, which would be an argu
ment against a future state, was my point the
truth of that state, is only here an argument for
its utiHty, as my point is, the necessity of that
belief to society. So that an argument is not here
given that is afterwards to be answered and shown
false ; which would be in the highest degree ridi
culous for an author in earnest ; but such an
argument as is thought true, and to be made use
of afterwards as a truth.

54 CORRESPONDENCE ON

BISHOP SHERLOCK TO REV. W. WARBURTON.
[Thomas Sherlock was the eldest son of Dr. William Sherlock,.
Dean of St. Paul's. He was born in London in 1678, aud edu
cated at Eton, where he gave early promise of future excellence.
In 1 693 he was removed to Katharine Hall, Cambridge, where he
took his degrees of B.A. 1697, M.A. 1701. The high estimation
in which he was held at an early period of his life is proved by his
having received the important preferment of Master of the Temple
in 1704. In 1714 he proceeded D.D. and was chosen Master of
his College. When appointed Vice Chancellor he discharged the
office with the highest benefit to the University, displaying not
only great abilities, but distinguished wisdom, policy, and talents
for governing. In 1716 he was made Dean of Chichester, and
appeared first as an author in the celebrated Bangorian Contro
versy, taking the side of orthodoxy in opposition to Bishop Hoad
ley. He was consecrated Bishop of Bangor in 1728 ; translated
to Sarum in 1734; refused the Primacy in 1747, on account of
ill health, but, having recovered, accepted the See of London in
1748. He died in 1761, aged 84, and was buried at Fulham.
He had received from nature an enlarged mind, a quick appre
hension, and a solid judgment ; advantages which he improved by
industrious application to both solid and ornamental studies.
Amongst the former he devoted himself most to divinity and
law, both canon and common. He was a man of constant and
exemplary piety, an earnest and effective preacher, and distin
guished for his munificent charities.
As an author he is most advantageously known by his Dis
courses on Prophecy, and his Sermons ; the extraordinary merit of
which, in respect of both matter and style, has long since gained
them a distinguished place in English theology. — (Chalmers'
Biog. Diet.)
It may be thought no trifling attestation to the orthodoxy of
Bishop Warburton's leading arguments in the Divine Legation,

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 55
that that work should have received the countenance and approval
of so sound a divine as Bishop Sherlock ; — a point which the suc
ceeding Letters seem to place beyond a doubt. — Ed.]
Wallington, Herts, Oct. 18, 1737.
Reverend Sir,
Last night I received some sheets of your book,
and ran them over with great pleasure, but not
with the attention which the subject and your way
of treating it demand. I can therefore at present
only thank you for the favour you have done me,
and give you my opinion upon a very small matter,
which yet I apprehend will greatly prejudice many
readers against you.
In page 55, speaking of WoUaston, you take oc
casion to quote a passage from Don Quixote. As
WoUaston was a sober serious writer and a
scholar, and of an exceeding good character in pri
vate life, the treating his performance with an air
of ridicule will be thought very injurious to him,
and very improper to come from you ; and wUl
raise a good deal of unnecessary resentment. I
am so much of this opinion, that if I was to judge
for you, that leaf should be reprinted, and the pas
sage left out.* I shall be in town very soon, and
have the pleasure of seeing the sheets as they
come out.
Your very affectionate brother and servant,
Tho, Sarum.
* See Hurd's Life of Warburton, p. 26, 4to edit, where it will
be seen that Bishop Hare gave him the same advice.

56 CORRESPONDENCE ON
BISHOP SHERLOCK TO REV. W. WARBURTON.
Wallington, near Baldock, Herts, Nov. 29, 1737.
Sir,
I am very much obliged to you for the pleasure
you have given me in perusing the sheets of your
book as they came from the press. There are
many things quite new to me, and very entertain
ing. Your proofs of the magistrate's influence in
matters of religion are very copious and strong,
stronger perhaps than ever were produced by the
gentlemen who are willing to think all religion to
be the contrivance of the civil magistrate.
I received most of the sheets in town at the time
when the Queen's illness and death left hardly
room to think sedately of any thing else. I hope
to see you in town before the next summer ; by
that time I shall have considered the book toge
ther, and, if any thing sticks with me, I shall be
glad of your assistance to clear it up.
Mr. WoUaston was, I believe, a serious Christian.
He pursued his point to open the principles of
natural religion, by natural reason only ; but to
wards the conclusion of his book * there is a plain
indication in so many words, that he ivanted other
help ; and I am well informed that he had begun
the proof and explication of the Christian religion
in the same method: — the unfinished work was
found among his papers after his death.
* " The Religion of Nature delineated," p. 211.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 57

REV. W. WARBURTON TO BISHOP SHERLOCK.
Jan. 17, 1738.
Your lordship, to be sure, rightly observes,
that the Christian notion of a resurrection is in
consistent with a transmigration, and therefore
this is one good argument that the pagans had
it not. Yet what is very remarkable, the Jews
contrived matters so as to hold at once a re
surrection and a transmigration, and what is more,
made these doctrines support one another, as I
shall show from what Philo and Josephus, and the
New Testament, deliver of these matters.
I shall endeavour to prove that an Extraordinary
Providence dispensed to the Jews as a people, is
sufficient to my point. But shall go on to show
that the sacred Scriptures affirm it to be dis
pensed to individuals. Not so exactly, indeed,
under the kings as before. Yet even then the
thing was plainly acknowledged. Psalm xxxvii. 27.
Amos, iv. 7, even appeals to this Extraordinary
Providence to particulars, as a thing weU known ;
and again more expressly, ix. 9, and James xxxiii.
15 ; and Hebrews ii. 2 confirms these accounts
The writers under the kings do indeed mention the
inequality in very strong terms ; but, I apprehend,
they are there speaking of their pagan neighbours

58 CORRESPONDENCE ON
and enemies, amongst whom good and bad hap
pened to aU alike : I imagine, particularly, the
author of the seventy- third Psalm does so. In
deed, this Extraordinary Providence to particulars
is to be understood with much temper. As, 1. We
are not to suppose it to take place, but when the
laws of the state come short of administering re
wards and punishments, it being only a succeda-
neum to civil justice. 2. (With regard to punish
ment), if all men escaped by the corruption of
Courts of Justice in cases where they could punish,
we are not to suppose such immediately pursued
by divine vengeance. 3. Sometimes ill men were
suffered to be a scourge, 4. The Extraordinary
Providence with regard to the state, sometimes
interfered with that to particulars, as in the case
of the plague for numbering the people. 5. Some
times the Extraordinary Providence was deferred
from time to time, to bring men to repentance.
This made men accustomed to an Extraordinary
Providence impatient, as we see Zephaniah, i.
12; Malachi, ii. 17; James, v. 19; Amos, v. 18;
Jeremiah, xvii. 15. 6. Sometimes, again, this Ex
traordinary Providence was taken off for a punish
ment of the state, Isaiah, iii. 5, Iix. 2. Here I
would observe, that when the 3, 5, 6 cases
happened, they were expressly taken notice of by
the sacred writers. Add to all this, the gradual
decrease of this Providence, as a preparation to
the Gospel, and then we need not wonder at what

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 59
we meet with, of suspicions and complaints of
God's Providence. But your lordship wiU observe
that these could never come from good men,
either not accustomed to an Extraordinary Provi
dence, or well acquainted with the doctrine of a
future state.
I imagine the Jews might borrow from the
Babylonians a doctrine which they might have
had from their neighbours nearer home long be
fore, because, that tiU their sojourn in Babylon,
they did not want that doctrine, either for the
support of the state or for the consolation of
particulars ; and we are not accustomed to give
much attention to or borrow any thing before we
want it.
It is very observable, as your lordship finely
remarks, that amidst all the reproofs of the rites
and observances of the pagans, not one word is
said to reprove any notion about a future state of
rewards and punishments, and this very conduct
Moses and the prophets must have held with
regard to this point according to my scheme.
They were not to teach life and immortality, and
yet they could not reprove the notion of the soul's
existence in a future state of rewards and punish
ments. But they do take notice of the pagan
notion of the past existence of the soul, where
they condemn necromantic rites, which your lord
ship knows was the evocation of the spirits of
departed men. And this leads me to your lord-

60 CORRESPONDENCE ON
ship's next most material observation, which is,
that those who think with Sir J. Masham, will
give one answer to my whole scheme. Your lord
ship guessed right, the answer has been given
already. (Professor BlackweU's Letter.)*
Your lordship sees he is so reasonable as not to
* 'Extract from Doctor BlackweU's Letter, — " As to the
second part of my promise, I find all my fancies about your
admirable plan terminate in high expectations of pleasure and
light upon some points still difficult to me. And the free
generous manner in which you honour me with your friend
ship, makes me think it my duty to tell you what I expect
from it :— As first, I shall look for a proof that Moses had him
self a notion of a future state of rewards and punishments ; or if
that demand be too high, to make it probable that the Egyptians
had it so early as in his time, for which purpose you will no doubt
consider, whether the evidence drawn from Herodotus and the
Greek authors be sufficient ? And if not, what other evidence
you can have for the antiquity of that belief among men ? I
likewise hope to find the real reason, why the divine lawgiver
having to do with so stubborn and refractory a race, should
descend to such repeated particularities in his threats, parcelling
out the body and estate in his curses, when he could have brought
easily in play the superior and overawing terrors of immortal
torture and wrath always to come ? For if he had no need of
the motive of future rewards and penalties to keep that perverse
people in their duty, how came he to stand in need of so minute
and reiterated a detail of curses ? Another question, which I
persuade myself must have occurred to you, is, whether, besides
the great and good ends now attained by the belief of a future
state, the revealing it to the Jews would not have much con
tributed to make them comprehend the meaning of the Mosaic
institutions of sacrifices, atonements, scapegoats, &c.
"Aberdeen, October 26, 1737."

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 61
expect I should prove this from Moses' writings ;
and indeed it would appear very unreasonable to
demand that I should prove the author of a certain
book had the knowledge of a future state from
that very book where I insist there is an entire
silence with regard to it. Yet even this, if it
would satisfy unbehevers, I would undertake to
do. I suppose, then, that the law so frequently
repeated against necromancy, shews Moses well
acquainted with the notion, and that the notion
was the popular belief of all the neighbouring
nations. This being a rite built upon a future
state, as is not only seen from the thing itself, but
from Homer : — Ulysses' adventure with the shades
being, as your lordship well knows, nothing but
a necromantic evocation. I will only observe, that
if the infidels stick to their own notions of the
high antiquity of Egypt, that alone will overthrow
the objection ; for their authors, Herodotus and
Diodorus, mention this doctrine as of the earliest
date in Egypt. Their very circumstantial funeral
rites were certainly a consequence of it. These
writers speak of them as such, and it is very re
markable that these very rites were in use at the
death of Jacob, as appears from Genesis, 1. as,
the particular profession of embalm ers— the ope
ration of embalming continuing 40 days, and the
mourning 70 — so minutely agreeable to the
accounts of those two Greek writers.

62 CORRESPONDENCE ON

BISHOP SHERLOCK TO REV. W. WARBURTON.
March 2, 1737-8.
Reverend Sir,
The Bishop of Chichester * tells me that he sent
you the Miscellany of last week, so there is no oc-
casidn to give you any account of it. The very
absurd use that paper has made of the passage re
lating to Hickringall, &c. requires no answer.
Every body cries shame on the author for it. The
other charge is equaUy absurd, though not so
surprising. I was aware that some parts of your
book would raise jealousies ; though I little ima
gined to see them raised so high, when there are
so many passages in the book to speak the author's
sense plainly.
But one passage there is, which I find has, above
aU others, given ground to those suspicions ; it is
dedication, p. 18, where you say of the author of
A Letter to Dr. Waterland, that he is one of the
most formidable adversaries to the freethinkers.
This author is reckoned to have given up the di
vine authority of Moses, and to consider him as a
mere politician ; and to defend even the Christian
religion as useful only for the present circum
stances of life. I do not vouch for these conclu
sions ; but those who are assured they are just,
take your declaration to be approving the method,
and to be a key to your own sentiments.
* Francis Hare, D. D.

THE divine legation. 63
I thought it right to give you this account, which
wiU let you into the reason of the anger expressed
against you, and enable you, if it should be consi
derable enough ever to deserve your notice, to see
it in the true Hght ; at present I think it is not.
I expect to see you in town, and shall be very
glad to see you and talk over these matters. The
learning and ability of the author of the Divine
Legation are not called in question, and the first
part has raised a great desire and expectation of
the second. I am. Sir,
Your affectionate brother and humble servant,
Tho. Sarum.

BISHOP SHERLOCK TO REV. W. WARBURTON.
Temple, March 9, 1737-8.
Sir,
When I saw the Bishop of Chichester I found it
was his opinion, that it was proper for you to say
something in answer to the very injurious treat
ment you have had. I think so too ; not so much
in regard to the author of the Miscellany, as in re
gard to others, who may possibly be desirous to
see all ground of suspicion removed. In di'awing
the answer, you should consider such persons
much more than your angry adversary. If you
treat him as he may deserve, you enter into

64 CORRESPONDENCE ON
TToAe/Aoy aa-nrovhov, and may be engaged in the most
disagreeable work to a scholar and a serious man.
I do not mean that you have not right, or that you
should not complain of the immoral conduct of
your adversary ; but I wish to see it done seri
ously, rather than angrily. I write this not as
suspecting your want either of temper or judg
ment, but from my own experience, who know
how hard it is to return a soft answer to a public
abuse. The suggestion that you undervalue the autho
rity of miracles appears to me a mere blunder.
The charge, that you accuse some defenders of
Christianity with not understanding the principles
of it, is accusing you for what is in fact true ; and
comes improperly from Mr. Hooker, who thinks
there are among the clergy so many who want a
true faith. The case of Dr. M. (which is the hine
nice lachrymce of the whole complaint) will require
your best consideration, whether to mention it at
aH, or how to mention it. If you had not, in the
18th page, said anything of him, I should have
thought the 38th page intended for him. I re
member very well that, conversing with Dr. M.
at Bath, about four years ago, I said to him much
the same thing which I read in that 38th page.
Forgive my entering so far into a matter in
which you want no help, and ascribe it to the con
cern this affair has given me. I was truly grieved
when I saw in what manner you was treated. I

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 65
make no manner of doubt but this wiU end to your
honour. I am. Reverend Sir,
Your affectionate brother and humble servant,
Tho. Sarum.

REV. W. warburton TO BISHOP SHERLOCK.
Nov. 22, 1738.
My Lord,
I have taken the liberty of ordering the book
seUer to send your Lordship my Legation of Moses
of the second edition, which he is about to publish.
I will hope it may be less unworthy your lordship's
perusal than the first, here being several additions,
chiefly in support of my notions and reasonings
there advanced. I go upon the remainder of my
work as fast as my health will give me leave ; for
as to my inclination it is not a bit abated for all the
scurvy usage I have met with. For I will tell
your lordship what it is that supports me — ^it is
the love of truth, and a thorough conviction of
the reality of the Jewish and Christian revela
tions. I think I am not uncharitable in suspect
ing that it may be a want of the latter that makes
some very zealous people cooler and more suspi
cious of the former than is fitting. Hence we see
them almost frighted to death at every fooHsh
book writ against religion, and betake themselves F

66 CORRESPONDENCE ON
in all haste to their old posture of defence to prop
and buttress up with any materials that come to
hand, what they think a sinking fabric, because
they do not see the eternal foundations on which
it stands. In the mean time, if any one offers to
remove the rubbish that hides its beauty, or kick
down an awkward prop that discredits its strength,
or lays it open to its very foundations, which is all
that is wanting to make it impregnable, he is sure
to be called— perhaps to be thought — a secret ad
versary or an indiscreet friend.
Your lordship's writings first taught me to see,
that there was a large and rich field of matter for
the support of revelation, untouched and unknown
till your lordship first discovered and. cultivated it.
I return you, therefore, but your own when I take
the liberty of acquainting you, in a few words,
how I proceed in my design. I show that the
people under the Law had not, or were not influ
enced by, the doctrine of a future state. This,
from the nature of their theocracy — from the omis
sion of it in Moses' Law — from the whole his
tory of the Jews to the time ofthe Captivity, where
we do not find that the consideration of a future
state was the motive or sanction of any one action
whatsoever, but an influence of a different nature.
From the writings of the Prophets, and those of
the Apostles, I proceed to examine the reasonings
of both Jewish and Christian writers in support of
the contrary opinion, in which the famous eleventh

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 67
chapter of the Hebrews comes under considera
tion, where I endeavour to show that it is so far
from opposing, that it is one of the greatest sup
ports of my scheme. Having, I say, done this, I
proceed from the proof of this proposition, and of
the two others in my first volume, to estabHsh my
conclusion, that therefore the Jewish people were
under an Extraordinary Providence, and, conse
quently, Moses' mission divine. To support and
iUustrate this, I enter into a more particular exa
mination of that Extraordinary Providence ; show
it extended to particulars as well as to the public ;
that yet, if it did not, its extending to the public
would be sufficient to my point, as superseding all
necessity of the doctrine of a future state for the
ends of civil society. I then show how it gradu
aUy abated. Its first impair was on the people's
choosing a king ; but the theocracy continuing, as
I show, under their kings, it was stiU dispensed,
though not in so high a measure as before. From
this time it gradually abated, and as it abated, the
doctrine of a future state arose; first, in the
preaching of the Prophets ; secondly, by the re
flections of the people on appearing inequahties ;
thirdly, from what the neighbouring nations taught:
so that by that time the Extraordinary Providence
ceased, as it did from the Captivity, a future state
was become amongst the Jews a national esta
blished doctrine. This appears to carry with it
some weight ; and the showing at large by whom
F 2

68 CORRESPONDENCE ON
it was brought in, whence the several parts of it
were gathered, and how it was understood, all con
tribute to the support of my thesis.
I then proceed to show the reasons that we may
suppose God had in omitting a doctrine, which
might be well spared in his dispensation, which
yet no one can say would not have had its use.
After having assigned several which may be
thought worthy of God, I next show that God
not only did not for these reasons reveal this doc
trine in the law, but that, if the law did indeed
come from him, it could not for several other rea
sons then reveal it, agreeably to the method of
God's general dispensation delivered in Scripture.
The sum of one of my arguments is this : " The
future state discoverable by natural reason, and
that taught by Revelation, are built upon quite
different foundations." That of the first upon
this, — that the moral attributes of God require that
he should punish and reward according to men's
behaviour ; if it be not done here, it must be done
hereafter. This notion of a future state might be
taught at any time, and was actually taught by all
the ancient legislators ; but that Moses, if he was
indeed the messenger of God, could not teach this,
will be seen by what follows.
But the future state taught by Revelation was
solely built upon this foundation, — that Adam
having forfeited the free gift of immortality given
him on condition, he and his posterity were to be

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 69
restored to it by the death or sacrifice of the se
cond Adam. Now a future state according to this
notion, I show, could not be taught but at that
time only when the gift was restored to us ; that
redemption and the Redeemer, the workman and
his work, must necessarily be coeval. Moses,
therefore, being, on the supposition, an agent and
instrument of God for the giving a rehgion which
was a part or member of one grand economy and
dispensation, could not teach another Hfe accord
ing to the notion of it under natural religion, be
cause it was extraneous to that dispensation;
could not teach it according to the notion under
Revelation, because that doctrine was future in
that dispensation. But thoroughly to establish
this argument, and several others to the same
point, there is need precisely to examine the na
ture of Christianity. In doing this I endeavour to
establish the doctrines of redemption, satisfaction,
faith, justification, those bugbears of our great
masters of reason in the Socinian way, and to
show their reality against their conclusions, and
their utmost reasonableness upon their principles.
The fruits, I hope, from this are,
1. To evince the truth of the proposition in
question, that a future state could not be delivered
by Moses. 2. To point out a short and easy road
to the end of those odious and perpetual contro
versies about the nature of grace, of satisfaction,
oi justification by faith, the preference of moral or
positive precepts, pardon 07i repentance alone, and

70 CORRESPONDENCE ON
utterly to demolish all the overstrained Socinian
nonsense of Chubb's late Tracts against Reve
lation. 3. And principaUy, to present an entire
view of the whole of God's grand dispensation to
man, from Adam to Jesus ; where may be seen at
once the beauty, consistency, harmony, and neces
sary dependency of all the parts upon one ano
ther ; which will at the same time, we hope, reflect
the most advantageous light over the whole body
of the work. And with this it concludes.
Your lordship, as I have said, has been my great
master in this career ; so that no one surely could
conduct me so safely through it. This would na
turally tempt me to beg information, to propose
my doubts, to seek for directions ; but that I re
flect I am, as it were, performing quarantine
as coming lately from suspected places, from the
cabinet council of old lawgivers, and the schools
of heathen philophers, and their venom is sup
posed to be yet sticking on me ; in which state it
would be presumption and ill manners to come
near our superiors. But whatever becomes of
this, I can never think myself unhappy while
your lordship is so good to believe this one truth
upon my bare word — that I am, with the highest
gratitude and veneration, My Lord,
Your lordship's most obliged
and most devoted and faithful servant,
W. Warburton.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 71

BISHOP SHERLOCK TO REV. W. WARBURTON.
Wallington, near Baldock, Hertfordshire, Dec. 18, 1738.
Reverend Sir,
I am ashamed that I have been so long in ac
knowledging, not only the present I received of
the second edition of your book, but your letter of
the 22d of last month. I have a just excuse — I
was seized with the epidemical cold at London,
which brought such a rheum into my eyes that I
am hardly now able to write.
I see the difficulty of your Second Part, and you
see it. You have in your first book showed the
ends that were to be served by the magistrate in
cultivating the notion of a future state : you are
now to show that these ends were served under the
Jewish polity without the help ofthis notion.
You say, " this third proposition, and the two
other in the first volume, being proved, I come to
the establishment of my conclusion, that therefore
the Jews at the time of Moses must needs be under
an Extraordinary Providence, and, consequently,
that Moses' mission was divine."
The point here is this, whether this proposition,
" That the Jews at the time of Moses must needs
be under an Extraordinary Providence" is to be
admitted as a consequence from what you have
said. Is it not the main thing to be proved, in

72 CORRESPONDENCE ON
order to come at that which is your true conse
quence, therefore Moses'' mission was divine?
Whether you mean any thing by the limitation
at the time of Moses I know not ; but if the proof
or consequence will go no further, it will fall short
of your view, for the Jewish polity was to outlast
Moses. But as you propose to enter into the
proof of this Extraordinary Providence, it will be
in your choice to set this proposition in what light
you think best.
As to the notion of a future state under natural
religion and under Revelation, there is great foun
dation for the distinction, and great use may be
made of it. The natural notion seems to be, the
remains of the original state of nature reduced to a
consistency with our present state. Adam might
have a notion of being immortal, but not as a spirit
separate from the body. But when death came in
and made the separation, natural religion could
hold fast no more than the hopes of immortality
for separated spirits ; and reasonings from the
attributes of God supported the notion. The re
demption which was to restore us to our natural
state, brought in the doctrine of a resurrection.
It is observable, that what notices there are in
the ancient Scriptures of a future life, are con
nected with the notion of a resurrection, founded
on the early promises of redemption. I under
stand the famous passage of Job in this sense ; sed
subjudice lis est. As soon as the Prophets dis-

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 73
close the notion of a future life, it is under the
image of a resurrection. Under the law persons
were raised from the dead: Enoch and others,
translated to another life, went body and soul to
gether. Strong intimations these ! Our Saviour
from Moses infers not the philosophical notion of
immortality, but the resurrection of the dead.
And the Jews in our Saviour's time who beheved
any thing of a future state, believed a resurrection.
Admitting this, I should doubt whether the
Jewish notion of a future state should be deduced
at all from what was taught on this matter by the
people amongst whom they dwelt. The Jewish no
tion of a resurrection, and the heathen notion of
immortality, are very different things. And the
internal argument for the doctrine of a resurrec
tion wUl appear in a strong Hght, upon observing
that the phUosophical notion was never propa
gated in the church of God ; but the true one,
founded upon the redemption, was in proportion to
the light communicated in the several ages.
The general expectation of immortahty enter
tained in the heathen world, is the strongest pre
sumptive proof for the truth of the Christian Re
velation. Nature expected relief against death,
but the method of such rehef was out of her view.
She did, as it were, capitulate to save the soul ; for
the body she saw no help ; and yet the spirit with
out the body is not the man. God only could find

74 CORRESPONDENCE ON
the way to rescue the man from death by a resur
rection. You see how much I incline to your way of
thinking in this particular. I say with you, that
Moses could not teach the common notion of the
immortality of separate souls ; for God had other
wise provided for the immortahty of men: and
this seems to be a very just account of the silence
of the ancient Scriptures in this point. I should
not choose to say positively that Moses could not
teach a future life according to its notion under
Revelation ; because I think this point might gra
dually be opened as others were, tiU the fuhiess of
time for the perfect revelation was come. Does
not Hebrews, xi. 35, favour this notion ?
The opening, upon the foot of your plan, the
scheme of redemption by Christ, will be of great
service. It is want of viewing the dispensation
from the beginning as one scheme that makes the
several parts the less intelligible.
I trust you wiU excuse these hasty thoughts,
which pray trust with nobody else. You are so
able to judge for yourself, that you want not my
assistance, though your great modesty has led you
into higher acknowledgments to me than are my
due. I am. Sir,
Your affectionate brother
and humble servant, Tho. Sarum.
P. S. I cannot help thinking that you wiU find it

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 75
hard to come at sufficient proof of such Extraor
dinary Providence toward particulars, as your
scheme seems to require. But I think, too, that
the method you propose wiU so plainly account for
the sUence of Moses on the immortahty, &c. and
show such a consistency between the old and the
new Scriptures, as will abundantly compensate for
what may be thought wanting on the other head.
I remember when I thought the doctrine of the
resurrection, as taught among the Jews before our
Saviour's time, a difficulty upon the Christian
scheme ; and that it had an appearance as if our
Saviour had adopted the prevailing notion of his
country, and built his scheme upon it. But when
I considered the resurrection as God's method of
restoring men to the original happiness from
whence they fell, and reserved to he fully declared
by his Son in due time ; and that it was gradually
opened, and preserved by ancient tradition, con
firmed and further cleared by the later Prophets ;
it cast a new and a great light upon this wonderful
scheme of Providence. When I took my Doctor's
degree, and preached the commencement sermon,
it was on this subject — " Who brought life and
immortality to light through the Gospel." I am
pleased to find this subject now in your hands,
where it will have justice done it.
If Moses had taught the common notion of the
soul's immortahty in a separate state, and esta
blished the sanctions of religion on that opinion,

76 CORRESPONDENCE ON
and Christ had taught an immortality founded on
a resurrection, could we have received both ac
counts as of divine authority ? In pursuing this
argument you must consider the state of souls be
tween death and the resurrection ; and if you do not
prevent objections, they will be sure to follow you.
This account of Moses' silence about a future state
being well established, you will then have a right
to infer, by way of consequence, a particular Pro
vidence, &c. For if either a particular Providence
or a belief of a future state be necessary to civil
government, and God thought fit to erect a civil
government without teaching a future state, it
follows that he supplied the want by a special Pro
vidence.

REV. W. WARBURTON TO BISHOP SHERLOCK.
Newark, Dec. 23, 1738.
My Lord,
I have the honour of your lordship's of the 18th
instant, for which I hold myself infinitely favoured.
I am extremely concerned to hear your lordship
has been so ill of an indisposition, which we feel
nothing of in these parts.
The many noble observations and material hints
which your lordship has been so good to honour
me with, are so extremely useful to me, that I am
impudent enough to wish, and vain enough to

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 77
hope that this letter will not be the last on the sub
ject that I shall receive from your lordship. Any
odd hour of leisure, when either this subject oc
curs, or one so insignificant as me, yet one who so
truly honours and venerates your lordship, chances
to come into your thoughts, might make me very
happy with the result of your reflections. I shall
religiously obey your lordship's commands in
making your last a secret to every one. Nor
should I, without that order, have been forward to
communicate the treasure it contains to anybody.
Your lordship very justly corrects the inaccu
racy of my expression. This proposition, that the
Jews were under an Extraordinary Providence, is
not to be admitted simply as a consequence of the
three propositions ; but I shall employ those three
positions as a medium to prove it by ; which was
what I meant by the expression " the three being
proved, I come to the establishment of my conclu
sion, &c." The proving the Extraordinary Provi
dence is, indeed, as your lordship observes, the
main thing to be proved ; and your lordship in the
P. S. shows how it is to be done. It was impos
sible Moses could have omitted the doctrine of a
future state, or that the community could have
subsisted without it, unless under an Extraordi
nary Providence; and this I do by the assistance
of the three propositions. When this is done, I
come, as your lordship rightly observes, to my true
conclusion, that therefore Moses' mission was
divine.

78 CORRESPONDENCE ON
By the time of Moses, I did not mean to restrain
the Extraordinary Providence to that period. But
your lordship observes, that my particular argu
ment proves no more directly, than that there was
one when he gave the people his law. Indeed,
common sense teUs us, that he could not give a
durable law, fitted only for the state of an Extra
ordinary Providence, if that state was to expire
with him. So that, granting me an Extraordinary
Providence during his time, the continuance of it
during the whole period of the theocracy necessa
rily follows. And I particularly examine (as I did
myself the honour to tell your lordship,) into the
extent of that period, and the gradual decay of
this Extraordinary Providence.
It rejoices me to find myself authorised by your
lordship, in thinking that great use may be made
of the distinction between the notion of a future
state under natural religion and under Revelation ;
because I have made it the foundation of my ex
planation of the Christian system ; and I am greatly
deceived if it be not a master-key to enter the very
penetralia of it. Your lordship has said so many
admirable things in a few words in explanation of
the distinction, as have afforded me great lights in
support of my notions.
What your lordship is pleased to observe of your
doubts whether the Jewish notion of a future state
should be deduced at all from what was taught on
this matter by the people amongst whom they dwelt.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 79
is very material. But the Jews having got after
the Capti^^ty the doctrines of a metempsychosis
and a purgatory, doctrines which, if any, were
surely pagan, I could not tell how otherwise to
account for them. That the resurrection they had
not from thence, but from their own Prophets, to
me is most evident. Though it is an uncontro-
verted opinion amongst the learned, that the pa
gans had the notion of the resurrection of the body
long before the times of Christ, yet I esteem and
endeavour to prove it a vulgar error. The greatest
support ofthe notion in general is a famous passage
of Pliny. And that particularly the Magi taught it, they
bring the testimony of Laertius, 1. 1 , s. 9, who says
that Theopompus (contemporary with Esdras and
Nehemiah) records, that the Magi taught the resur
rection of the body. If I was disposed to own the
fact, I would say the Jews taught it to the Magi,
but I have great reason to deny it.
What a deUght is it to me to hear these words
delivered, in my opinion, as from an oracle : —
" That it is want of viewing the Christian dispen
sation from the beginning as one scheme that makes
the several parts the less intelligible." The result
of this view is internal evidence for the truth of
Christianity. And yet one * of your lordship's
bench was pleased to mark me out to his clergy, in
* Richard Smalbrooke, D.D. Bishop of Lichfield.

80 CORRESPONDENCE ON
his visitation charge at Chesterfield, as one who
had done wrong to talk so highly of the internal
evidence ; for that, after all, the external evidence
is what we must stick by.
Your lordship's P. S. is full of observations of
the highest importance to me, which I could ex
patiate on with the greatest pleasure ; but I am
confounded at the length of this ; but I could not
forbear to let your lordship see that I was not ig
norant of the treasure I have got ; and it shall be
the business of my life to manifest that I am not
ungrateful.

BISHOP SHERLOCK TO REV. W. WARBURTON.
Temple, Jan. 23, 1 738-9.
Reverend Sir,
I had the favour of yours of the l7th. I find
myself more in your debt for an account of the
passage in Herodotus than I intended to be. In
turning over your second edition since I came to
town, I find that you have (p. 90) made the same
use of the passage, that Sir John Marsham did,
which I was not aware of when I passed (perhaps
too hasty) a judgment on it. When I first read
the passage in Marsham several years ago, I
consulted Herodotus, and thought that Marsham
had mistaken the sense. T have now considered
again the passage as it lies in Herodotus, and I
will make you judge of the reasons why I still

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 81
doubt, whether you and Sir John Marsham have
given the right sense of the passage.
The part of the passage which you refer to
taken by itself, can bear no other sense than what
you give of it ; and as you have connected it in
your text to another passage of the same author,
it speaks your sense very strongly.
The passage in Herodotus relating to this matter,
begins with the words quoted by you, and ends
at these — " twv iyco eidcSs t« o'uvo|xaTa ou ypdcpay."
The Egyptians are said to be the authors of this
Xo'yoy, that the soul is immortal, but that on the
dissolution of the body it passes is aAAo ^voov, kc-
The question is, whether the discovery attributed
to the Egyptians relates to the first part, — the
immortality; or to the second, — the transmigra
tion ; or to both. To know what Herodotus meant
precisely, we must go to the latter part of the
passage, " rwrto tw "hoyvo iia-) ot 'EAArfvcoi/ e^p^-
travTo," &c. Now the Toyroi r<a 7^oya)here means pre
cisely the same thing with the ro'vSe rov Xo'yo!^
which the Egyptians are said to be the first
authors of. Do you think that Herodotus could
mean to say of the immortality, that some Greeks,
whom he could name if he would, taught it as an
invention of their own ? Surely the notion of the
immortality was too common in Greece for Hero
dotus to speak of it as the opinion, and claimed as
the invention, of some few whom he could name.
But if he spoke of the doctrine of transmigration, G

82 CORRESPONDENCE ON
he truly said, that some Greeks had taught it as a
doctrine of their own (oJy IS/o) eaoiJrwv). If then
this latter part can relate only to the doctrine of
transmigration, the first part can relate to no
more, for Herodotus speaks of the same ^o'yoy in
both parts.
It is very unnatural to suppose that the notion
of immortality and the doctrine of transmigration
are of the same date. It may as well be imagined
that the cycles and epicycles in the old astronomy
were as old as the knowledge of the planets'
motion. And therefore to join these two together
as the one invention ascribed to the Egyptians by
Herodotus, is putting things together naturaUy
separated; the doctrine of transmigration being
the consequence, and perhaps a late consequence,
from the notion of immortahty. That the notion
of transmigration came from Egypt, all agree;
that in reporting this opinion, Herodotus should
mention the immortality which was the foundation
of it is no wonder, though he meant not to ascribe
it to the invention of the Egyptians.
I think, too, the language of Herodotus favours
this intrepretation : ro'i/Se tov "Koyav may be rendered
this account. The Egyptians first gave this account,
that the soul is immortal, but on the dissolution
of the body goes into another kind of animal.
This then is an account of immortality, — and this
account given of immortality is the thing invented,
and not the immortality itself. Valla, in the latter

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 83
part of the passage, renders Toorat rco 7\.6yu), hanc
rationem. The notion of immortality among the Egyptians
was older than this account of transmigration, as
appears by what is said of their embalming ; that
it was founded on an opinion that the soul would
not leave the body so long as it could be pre
served, but would hover about it. This notion
could not be reconciled to that of transmigration,
unless the transmigration was suspended as long as
the body was preserved : possibly some such thing
may be intimated in the words of Herodotus —
TOO (rcofAocToy 8e Ka.ra.<pdivovTos. Servius on Virgil's
Mneid, iii. 67, " .^gyptii periti sapientise condita
diutius reservant cadavera, scilicet ut anima multo
tempore perduret, et corpori sit obnoxia, nee cito
ad aliud transeat."
The old opinion plainly appears to be that which
was connected with the sepulchral rites ; and when
the notion of transmigration prevailed, an absurd
exception was made for the soul's attendance on
the body, that the opinion " tot cseremomis conse
crata," might be preserved.
I now leave this passage of Herodotus to your
judgment. If I have said enough to excuse my
self from rashness in the opinion I give, I am sa
tisfied. As to the general argument, I am afraid the in
fidels will be not a little pleased if they can find
that many ages passed before any suspicion arose
G 2

84 CORRESPONDENCE ON
of a future state. Noah stood between the two
worlds : if there was any such notion in the old
one, without doubt he communicated it to the
new one ; and it was not left to be invented after
wards. If it was invented after, how many ages
passed without this knowledge ?
As to the passages referred to to support the
Extraordinary Providence to particulars, I cannot
agree with you in all. But I have but one thing
to say to you on it, that you should avoid all
doubtful and uncertain proofs in supporting a no
tion which you know will be so hardly received.
I write in haste, too hastily, indeed, the subject
considered. I shall be glad to hear from you, and
am. Sir, Your very humble servant,
Tho. Sarum.

BISHOP SHERLOCK TO REV. W. WARBURTON.*
May 10, 1739.
Reverend Sir,
I am very sorry and surprised too, at the account
you give me relating to a new edition of Shake-
spear ; and the more sorry, as I have in some mea
sure been the occasion of it.
I have no objection to your sending the letter to
Sir Thomas .-f- You do not mention to him that he
* This Letter is inserted here, in order to preserve the series of
the Correspondence. f Sir Thomas Hanmer, Bart.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 85
was to have/or a friend £200 ; and perhaps you
may as well keep that to yourself, unless it shall
be necessary in the course of the correspondence
to own your knowledge of it. I can't tell what
friend has deserved better in this respect than
yourself, and therefore can say nothing to it ; but
I should have expected that your interest should
have been remembered in a treaty of this kind.*
Mr. Romaine's Sermon I have heard of, but
have not seen it, nor do I intend to see it. This
instance will make you careful how you enter into
a correspondence with people of whom you know
nothing. I inclose the copy of the letter you intend for
Sir Thomas, which may save you the trouble of
transcribing another.
I am. Sir,
Your very humble servant,
Tho. Sarum.

BISHOP SHERLOCK TO REV. W. WARBURTON.
Temple, May 23, 1741.
Reverend Sir,
Your Letter, which I found here upon my return
from a short excursion into the country, has pre
vented me. I intended to be beforehand with you
in returning my thanks for the sheets I received
* For the history of this celebrated literary quarrel, see Hurd's
Life of Warburton, p. 31, 4to edit, and Nichols's Literary Anec
dotes, vol. V. p. 588-9.

86 CORRESPONDENCE ON
from the press. Yesterday I received the book
complete, and I shaU have a new pleasure in read
ing and considering the whole together.
Should any one else compliment me as the au
thor, in any degree, of your book, there would be a
temptation to admit, at least by silence, the com
pliment. One thing only I can say to you, that
you are not mistaken in judging of my value and
esteem for the true author.
I hope I have outlived the resentments of some
angry writers, and have done with controversy ; if
ever I enter that field again I shall claim your
promise (and if I do, it will be for the sake of your
promise) to be my second.
I think these two volumes must silence the sus
picions which some seemed willing to propagate, of
your being no friend to Revelation ; and give every
body a just notion of the learning and penetration
of the author.
Your account of types and second senses, and
converse by action deduced from the principles ex
plained in the former part ofthese volumes, is very
material, and brings light to one of the obscurest
points of divinity. Your application of these prin
ciples to the explaining the command of offering
up of Isaac, is, I think, entirely new. I wish you
may not suffer for this fault. The making this (in
consequence of your application of our Saviour's
words " Abraham rejoiced," &c.) to be in the first
intention a revelation to Abraham, and a trial

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 87
only in the second, is, as you are sensible, your
greatest difficulty.
I wished for you by me when I read this and
some other parts of your book ; we should have
understood one another soon ; and it is a discou
ragement to writing to think that it may require
ten pages to clear a misapprehension of your
sense, which as few words might do in conversation.
I will, however, mention a few things, not pre
tending now to enter into the merits of the case,
but only to suggest to you what common readers
may stop at.
Page 594. " He never urged them with any cir
cumstances, Sgc. which they either were not or might
not be well acquainted with, by the study of their
Scriptures." At the time this was said, there is no reason to
think the Jews could enter into that sense of the
transaction, which the antient Prophets, who de
sired to see, could not enter into.
Nor does our Saviour seem to expect they
should ; for he says, " When ye have lift up the
Son of Man, then shall ye know." v. 28.
I do not suppose this to affect your main
scheme ; for suppose our Saviour to say this, to
give them a call to consider it after they had lifted
up the Son of Man, it will, I think, consist with
your view.
Page 603. What you say here against its being
a trial only, concludes pretty strongly against its
being a trial at all; your manner of expressing

88 CORRESPONDENCE ON
yourself at the close ofthe paragraph, p. 604, " yet,
as the sacred text assures us it was a trial, we must
conclude," shews you were sensible of it.
As this point is a very material one, and in
which you have Scripture, Old and New, seemingly
at least, against you, give me leave to suggest to
you a very old thought of mine. I do it the rather
as it appears to me not inconsistent with your
scheme, and may perhaps, under your manage
ment, be improved to the support of it.
Many years ago I made two Sermons upon the
offering up of Isaac. I was under a difficulty to
account for this action, on the foot of its being a
trial only ; not being able to account to myself for
so very extraordinary a case, without any reason
being given for it, excepting only this, that it
shewed the strength of Abraham's faith. I
thought then there must be something particular,
some special use of this act of faith. I saw plainly
that Abraham's faith was proposed as a pattern to
Jews and Christians ; that the Jews were called on
in the New Testament to submit to the faith of
the Gospel in imitation of Abraham's faith. Now
the Gospel proposed an act of faith nowhere ex
emplified in the Old Testament, i. e. trusting to
receive the promises of life and salvation through a
person dead and raised from the dead. When the
Jews were called on by the Apostles to imitate the
faith of Abraham, they might have said, " Abra
ham trusted for great things, indeed, but things

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 89
possible at least ; to inherit the promised land ; to
have a numerous and prosperous issue ; but you
call on us to trust in a dead man, to believe him
raised," &c.
I saw plainly from the story in Genesis compared
with the passage in the Hebrews, that the offering
up Isaac, and^his deliverance, was as near a repre
sentation of the death and resurrection of Jesus as
could be ; for a representation or figure must not
be the very thing itself ; I saw from the passage in
the Hebrews that the strength and merits of
Abraham's faith lay in this, that, having received
the promises, that in Isaac shall thy seed be called,
he doubted not of God's fulfilling this promise to
him, even when he was going to slay this son ;
reconciling the contradiction by that eminent act of
faith, accounting that God was able to raise him
even from the dead. Did not this last act complete
the faith of Abraham, and come up to be a pat
tern of the faith required in Christ crucified ? If
so, it shews why the trial was made ; why it was
the last trial; for it rendered Abraham's faith
complete, and had respect to the great end of all
the promises ; and when this was over Abraham's
task finished, and his faith made a perfect example
to those who were in the fulness of time to be
called to like faith.
Now, whether we suppose the trial principally
intended, and the Revelation conveyed with it, as a
reward, or suppose with you the Revelation prin-

90 CORRESPONDENCE ON
cipally intended, and the trial contrived by means
of it, the difference appears to me not great.
There is in the 4th chapter of the Romans, from
V. 17, a reasoning not unlike this in the Hebrews.
You will excuse my giving you my thoughts on
this subject. If there be any thing in them, I have
said enough to you ; if nothing, too much.
What you say, p. 617, of the no moral import of
this and the like actions, will be liable to be mis
understood. I see how you collect it from your
account of actions used only for converse ; but
should any one make choice of an action to inform
another of something, and by that action do a real
injury to a third person, would not the act be im
moral? I fear I do not quite apprehend your
meaning. To end where I began, I heartily thank you for
your books ; I have you and your great learning
and abilities in high esteem, and with the greatest
truth am. Your affectionate friend, and very
humble servant,
Thomas Sarum.

REV. WILLIAM WARBURTON TO 

-Your lordship very justly observes, that a

deist may say, that " the apparent utility is reason
enough to propagate a doctrine not believed, but

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 91
no reason arises from thence for conceaHng a use
ful doctriae that is beUeved," as beheving I at
tempted to prove the latter proposition from the
former ; whereas I labour to prove it from quite
another thing ; namely, from Moses having no
occasion for that service which in the general re
sults from that useful doctrine. This service is,
the preserving the belief of a Providence, which is
seen not to be equally administered here. Now T
show it was equaUy administered under the Mo
saic dispensation, therefore no need of his support.
Your lordship, with the greatest accuracy, asks, " if
it were not, on the Mosaic scheme, necessary, can
it be said it would not have been useful ? Why,
therefore, if believed, should it be suppressed ?" I
freely own, that, admitting an equal Providence in
Judea, this doctrine could not be said to be quite
useless. If, therefore, I could say no more than that
Moses had little or no occasion for this doctrine (as
indeed he had not), your lordship's objection, I
will own, could not be easily satisfied ; though I
might say he omitted it for this very reason, that
it might remain an eternal standing proof of the
divinity of his mission. And I am sure your lord
ship wiU think even this alone a reason not un
worthy of a consummate lawgiver. It is certainly
such a mark of distinction from other lawgivers as
is very surprising. Your lordship is pleased to
say this is a difficulty you would be glad to see
removed. I wiU, therefore, trespass a Httle longer

92 CORRESPONDENCE ON
on your lordship's patience, to explain the very
bottom of my thoughts to your lordship* I go on,
then, in the following volume, after I have given
the reasons why Moses did not propagate the doc
trine of a future state, one of which I have given
above, to show that, if his pretensions were true, he
indeed could not propagate it. I observe, then,
that the peculiar foundation of a future state
taught by Revelation, is different from that on
which a future state taught by natural rehgion is
built. The latter is founded on this, that God is
just, and will give to every one according to his
works ; therefore, if not done here, it will be done
hereafter. But the future state by Revelation on
this, that eternal life was given as a grace, not as a
debt, and so on an arbitrary, positive, not moral
condition : that the non-performance of the condi
tion incurred a forfeiture of the gift which, now
lost, was purchased for us by a Redeemer. The
consequence from this distinction is, that the fu
ture state taught by natural rehgion might be
taught at any time, and in any age ; but that
taught by Revelation in that period only in which
it was divulged ; for, if it was a restoration and a re
demption, it could be only taught at and after the
time that that Redeemer and Restorer had per
formed his office. So that if Moses was indeed
in his course one of the agents and instruments of
God's various dispensations to mankind, he could
not, without assuming another office 

THE DIVINE LEGATION.

BISHOP HARE TO REV. W. WARBURTON.
[Francis Hare was born in London, of a respectable family,
and educated at Eton. In 1688 he was admitted of King's Coll.
Cambridge, where he proceeded A.B. 1692, A.M. 1696. He
subsequently became Tutor of his College, and also to Anthony
Collins, afterwards of sceptical notoriety, and to the Marquis of
Blandford, son of the great Duke of Marlborough. In 1708 he
took the degree of D.D. and was appointed Dean of Worcester.
In 1718 he was dismissed from his office of Chaplain to George I.
from party prejudices. In 1726 he became Dean of St. Paul's ;
and in 1727 was consecrated Bishop of St. Asaph, whence, in
1731, he was translated to Chichester. He died in 1740.
He was distinguished by strength of understanding, considerable
Classical learning, and a vigorous style of writing ; but his attach
ment to unsound theories has prevented his critical works from
obtaining lasting celebrity ; his hypothesis of the Hebrew metres
having sunk under the sounder and more judicious criticisms of
Dr. Lowth and others ; and his edition of Terence having been
strangled as it were in its birth by that of Bentley.
In religion he was a latitudinarian, and a warm upholder of
the right of private judgment. Perhaps the best known of his
theological works is his " Letter to a young Clergyman on the
difficulties and discouragements which attend the study of the
Holy Scriptures in the way of private judgment;" the object of
which was to show, that, since such a study of the Scripture is an
indispensable duty, it concerns all Christian societies to remove as
much as possible those discouragements. This book was cen
sured by Convocation, as tending to promote scepticism, by encou
raging a loose way of thinking on matters of religion. Chalmers's
Biog. Diet. Notwithstanding, however, his theological errors, he
appears from the following letters to have been a steady and judi
cious friend. See Hurd's Life of JVarUirton passim, where some
extracts from these letters are given. — Ed.]

94 CORRESPONDENCE ON 29 January, 1735.
Sir,
As I am one of those you have favoured with a
present of a very ingenious performance in defence
of the Established Church, I think myself obliged
to return you my hearty thanks for it. I had for
merly been very agreeably entertained with some
emendations of yours on Shakspeare, and was ex
tremely pleased to find this work was by the same
hand. Good learning, great acuteness, an inge
nious working head, and depth of thought, wiU
always please in an author, though we are not en
tirely in the same ways of thinking. I have not
courage enough to raise theories in matters of go
vernment, I can neither lay down fixed and clear
principles, nor deduce from them, in things of so
complex a nature, a long train of consequences.
Theory and fact are generally very different things :
a writer may tell me what he thinks a government,
to make it perfect, should be ; but I can never ex
pect to find by theory what any government upon
earth in fact is, or ever was. Governments were
not founded in philosophy, or formed by philoso
phers ; on the contrary, the beginnings of most
were very rude and imperfect, and by time and ex
perience, and a great variety of incidents, have
been brought to be what they are. But, notwith
standing these are my own sentiments, I have been
very well entertained with your thoughts upon
these matters, and should be glad it were in my

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 95
power to draw so ingenious and learned a man into
the Hght of the world, that both his merit might
be rewarded and his abilities improved. When any
thing brings you into these parts, I shall be very
glad to see you at the Deanery, and then we may
talk over some of these things which I cannot enter
into by letter. You have not, sir, only my thanks
for what you have done, but my sincere wishes that
what was intended for the service of the public may
prove also to be for your own, to which my endea
vours, in any proper way, shaU not be wanting,
being truly. Sir,
Your faithful friend and servant,
Fr. Cicest.

bishop hare to rev. w. warburton.*
Dear Sir,
I have this day received the favour of yours of
the 13th, with the kind present that attended it,
for which I give you many thanks.
You do me a great deal too much honour in
inscribing your remarks upon Paterculus to me in
the manner you have done. As I have not the book
by me, I am not so capable of judging of the truth
* Though this and the following Letter refer to a subject fo
reign from the Divine Legation, they are inserted here to keep up
the chronological order of the Correspondence.

96 CORRESPONDENCE ON
of the emendations, but, upon a slight view, see
they are many of them very ingenious, as all your
things are, and seem to arise out of the context,
which is the best evidence there can be of the
truth of them. I wish your printers had done you
more justice. There are a great many typogra
phical faults, and I think some that must be im
puted to the haste of the editor, who seems to have
attended more to the matter than to his expression.
Some of your emendations put me in mind of what
I remember to have heard a very iU-natured, but
a very able critic observe of Tanaquil Faber ; that
he could see a fault very well, but did not always
know how to mend it. It will, I presume, by no
body be thought strange if that should be^the case
in some of your conjectures, when it is but an essay,
or specimen, not an edition, you give to the world.
But as that is what you have done, I think so in
genious a man, who knows how easy it is to be
mistaken in these matters, should generaUy ex
press himself with a seeming diffidence.
You will forgive this liberty in one who is, with
great esteem. Dear Sir,
Your most faithful friend
and humble servant,
Fr. Cicest.
The Vache, near Gerrard's Cross, Bucks, 18 Nov. 1736.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 97
BISHOP HARE TO REV. W. WARBURTON,
Vache, 4 Dec. 1736.
Sir,
I have the favour of yours of the 26th, which I
scarce know how to thank you for. You are by
much an overmatch for a plain man ; and, if I did
not think you a very good-natured man, and of a
disposition extremely obliging, I should suspect
you thought me a very weak one, to think myself
entitled in any degree to all the fine things you
are pleased to say. In earnest, I must desire you
would drop all ceremony in your correspondence
with me. A man that can write so well should
not employ his pen in things so unnecessary as
compliments. You extend my hint about Tan. Faber much
further than I intended it; nothing was further
from my thoughts than to make the application
general. I know you can and have made very
fine emendations, but sometimes the ablest critic,
who is sure he sees a fault, may, for want of
proper helps, not be able to mend it with any de
gree of certainty. He may restore the sense when
he cannot restore the words ; and for that reason
all emendations, though by the same hand, are not
to be put upon a level, and consequently should
not, in my opinion, be given with the same air of
assurance. As I could not think all your emend-
H

98 CORRESPONDENCE ON
ations upon Paterculus equally true, I think the
speaking of them in the same manner, instead of
giving weight or credit to bad or doubtful ones,
does really detract from good ones ; because many
a reader who cannot make an emendation for him
self, may yet be so far a tolerable judge as to find
sufficient reason to dislike where he should dislike
in one or two instances ; and if he finds them pro
posed with a shew of certainty, he will suspect the
truth of others where he is not so able to judge ;
and in truth I have always found in fact, that no
thing hurts critics, and the art of criticism, so much
in the esteem of the generality of readers, next to
the ill treatment of one another, as the airs of as
surance they are so apt to assume to themselves.
The ground of criticism is indeed, in my opinion,
nothing else but distinct attention, which every
reader should endeavour to be master of. Where
there is in nature this ground-work, every man
will be a critic in proportion to the compass of his
learning in general, and upon each author in pro
portion to the particular application with which he
has made the book familiar to him. But I am
talking to one who has joined to a naturally clear
attention, and great application, a happy genius and
a fine imagination, which I wish for the good of
learning you may very long enjoy ; and am.
Sir,
Your very faithful friend, and servant,
Fr. Cicest.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 99

BISHOP HARE TO REV. W. WARBURTON. 21 Feb. 1737.
Dear Sir,
I have the favour of yours of the 16th, and am
much obliged to you for your kind concern for my
health. By taking early precautions my cold is
nearly past, and I hope, if the weather should come
to be a little warmer, I should get quite rid of it. I
have kept pretty much within doors, and, were it
not my month of residence at St. Paul's, should do
quite so. Colds are at this time very general
complaints, and hardly any body is free from them.
I hear nobody speak of your book who do not
express themselves as highly entertained with it,
though they think the principal point which re
mains to be proved, a paradox. The compliments
you have bestowed on your humble servant are
some restraint upon me in expressing in conversa
tion how much I am myself pleased with it. I
have seen nobody yet that has read it through.
When I hear any objections to it, it shall not, in
the absence of its author, want any defence I can
make, who am with great truth.
Your most affectionate friend and servant,
Fr. Cicest.

H 2

100 CORRESPONDENCE ON
BISHOP HARE TO REV. W. WARBURTON. 28 Feb. 1737.
Dear Sir,
I thank you for yours of the 25th, and should
have given you no further trouble, till you should
give me the pleasure of seeing you in town, had it
not been to communicate to you the inclosed paper,
the contents of which I did not hear of till yester
day ; and, as I thought it fit you should see it, I
take the first opportunity to send it to you, upon a
supposition that you might not otherwise come soon
to the knowledge of it. You will consider, first,
whether you should take any notice of it or not ;
and next, if you should, in what manner, whether
by a short pamphlet, or by a letter in some news
paper ; and whether in your own name or in the
person of another. I cannot at all guess who the
writer is, but I should suspect it to be Dr. Water-
land, sooner than any body else I know, or Dr.
Webster himself; perhaps in a little time it may
be known, or guessed at, at least, with more cer
tainty. I do not wonder to find you attacked, but
I hoped it would not have been so soon, nor with
so much warmth. I do not know what to advise
in a matter I have had no time to consider of, but
think some defence is pretty necessary ; but I de
sire you would not be too hasty in it, and that it
may be with more temper than one is apt to write
with under so much provocation.
I am, dear sir,
Your most faithful friend and servant,
Fr. Cicest.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. IQl

BISHOP HARE TO REV. W. WARBURTON. 9 March 1737.
Dear Sir,
I had some talk to day at the House with the
Bishop of Sarum, who told me he had written to
you, and, if I should write, that he would not add
to his own letter.
We were both of opinion there was a necessity of
a defence, and that it should be written with tem
per, not only for the general reasons for doing so,
but that, in this case particularly, you should write
to the cool and serious, since some of them might
take offence, and not only as to the violent and
hot-headed. The great difficulty is what to say
with respect to Dr. Mid[dleton]. If you say no
thing of him, you might as well not write at all ;
since it is certainly that which gives the great
offence. And how to do that so as not to hurt
him, and yet excuse yourself, is hard to say.
We were of opinion that that commendation of
him, as an able adversary, should be put upon the
ability with which he has argued against the Free
thinkers upon their own principles. I am very sorry
I did not express my apprehensions upon the com
mendation you give him with respect to Tully's
Life, which perhaps would have prevented this
passage ; but I forbore, out of great tenderness,
and indeed out of a point of honour, having been
told he looked on me as an enemy, in being against

102 CORRESPONDENCE ON
some preferments he has been pushing for, though
indeed without reason. It is true I was for other
persons, but without having heard, or in the least
suspecting, he was a competitor, though, indeed,
had I known it, I should, in my judgment, have
been against him, not from any iU-will to him,
but because I truly think no one thing can hurt
the King and his Government more than distin
guishing by his favours men marked for heterodoxy
or infidelity. Nothing has more alienated the
minds of the University, Clergy, and serious
Christians, than the jealousies that have been long
entertained of this kind. And this is the single
reason for which I should be against Dr. M[iddle-
ton] 's promotion by the Crown ; who is certainly a
very ingenious man, and has a fine pen. The
Bishop of Sarum talked with me in the presence
of the Bishop of Oxford ; and I was surprised to
hear it said that your friendship with him com
menced since his writing against Dr. Waterland.
I have since that time read nothing of his except
an answer to Dr. Pearce's ; and, I must own, I was
extremely offended at the insolence it is written
with. He teUs Dr. Pearce, in the first leaf of his
book, that he will never be able to write a page
like him as long as he lives, and he treats Dr. Wa
terland Hkewise with great rudeness.
But these are things that do not enter into the
present consideration. Something you must say;

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 103
but in loco lubrico the less you say the less of
fence can be taken by any side.
I still find more and more that the treatment of
you in the Miscellany is very generally disapproved,
— I should rather say detested.
We had to-day a long debate upon the army,
which made me come home late, and therefore you
will excuse my saying no more. The division was
75 to 29 present ; proxies 24 to 6 ; that is, in all 99
to 35. Yours, Fr. Cicest.

BISHOP HARE TO REV. W. WARBURTON. 23 Mar. 1737.
Dear Sir,
I received yesterday your Vindication, which I
read twice over with great satisfaction. You have
more than kept your word, hi promising that you
would write with temper. I wish you had shewn
a Httle more resentment upon the first point, the
misrepresentation is so very gross ; not but that
you have in reality chosen the better part ; too
much temper is a thing few writers are guilty of,
under much less provocation, and, with equitable
judges, will turn greatly to your credit ; but I do
truly wish you had quoted the passage in your
own book, instead of referring to it, which would.

104 CORRESPONDENCE ON
without saying more, have made the misrepresenta
tion appear more flagrant ; and I was pleased to
find the Bishops of Sarum and Bristol, who are
just gone from me, of the same opinion. But
they thought, as I do, that the reason of your not
doing it was, that it was quite unnecessary in so
gross an instance of abuse 
The part that relates to Dr. Mid[dleton] the
bishops think extremely well done. It was the
only difficult part ; and it cannot but please every
candid writer, to see you do justice to yourself,
and yet not do it at his expense, nor say a word
that either he or his friends can be offended at,
or that is in the least giving up a man with whom
you have a friendship : here is integrity and
courage very agreeably joined 
I give you many thanks for your last letter.
The Miscellany comes out on Fridays, but I got a
sight of it on Thursday night last, in order to have
sent it you by that post, if there had been in it
the letter we were made to expect, but I had
yesterday the satisfaction to hear it had been
stopped by somebody's interposition, I know not
whose. I am. Dear Sir,
most faithfully yours,
Fr. Cicestr.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 105
BISHOP HARE TO REV. W. WARBURTON.
Vache, 18 Oct. 1737.
Dear Sir,
Being got hither into my retirement, I did not
receive the favour of yours of the 11th till the
14th. I am extremely obhged to you for it, and
for the present that attended it, and you should
have had my thanks by the last post, but that
I was willing to defer till I could tell you I
had read it over, which I have now done with
great pleasure, to which it was some addition
that it is anticipated, and comes so much sooner
than it could have done if I had seen none imtil
I could have seen it all. I can say, without any
compliment, that your papers have given me high
delight. So many beautiful thoughts, — such in
genious illustrations of them, — such a clear con
nexion, such a deduction of notions, and so much
good learning upon so useful a subject, all ex
pressed in proper and fine language, cannot but
give an intelligent reader the greatest satisfaction.
I am particularly glad to see Bayle, and the
Fable of the Bees, make a part of the subject. The
latter you have thoroughly confuted in a very few
pages. The other, as I believe it is the best
defence of Atheism that was ever made, deserved
to be dissected, and to have its fallacies laid open
with some exactness  I could

106 CORRESPONDENCE ON
wish you had been a little more explicit in p. 45,
which at present to me seems obscure ; whether it
will appear so to other readers I know not. I
doubt the adversaries will think you have yourself
helped them to an answer to what you urge
from the words oblige and obligation, that it infers
an obliger, since you admit, in page 51, that God
is obliged by his own wisdom. I have the satis
faction to see some notions touched upon, and
some pretty largely explained, which I have
thought very material, and have wondered to have
them so little generally attended to, as in page
83, upon the Gospel, and page 97, upon the
quahties assigned their gods, as regarding both
the genius and nature of the civil government.
This, I think, is the true reason God does not
appear in so amiable a view in the Old Testament
as in the New. But I wish you could have given
any ancient instance of one that was gentle, &c.
People do not consider the imperfect state of
morality in the older times, compared with what it
was in more enlightened times, and among the
Greeks, particularly the Platonists and Stoics,
and afterwards among Christians, who borrowed
from both. I doubt " barbarous project of Eastern
policy" vnU be applied to the Mosaic Law, which
has all the appearance of being intended to be
immutable. How comes o^Kojy, page 111, to be
rendered sacraments ? I think you have very
weU answered Dr. Bentley as to the dialect of

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 107
Zal[eucus]' Laws, perhaps as to the Pythago-
rism of them. But I think not as to the words
or expressions, for what can the changes be sup
posed to be made for? what words in room of
what ? Besides, what instance is there of changing
the language of any Grecian law r It is certainly
genuine. One sees by Homer how permanent
a language the Greek was, since, though some
words are posterior to him, yet his never came to
be obsolete or unintelligible. But, indeed, I think
the whole, from the turn and manner, appears to
be a spurious piece ; it is mere preaching, — the
language of a philosopher, not a law maker, finely
written, and for that very reason not genuine. In
the time of the Ptolemies, writing was brought to
great perfection, rpaymliais k. t. X. is quite rhe
torical, almost poetical. I wonder you have trans
lated aS»K«ai/ " evil," when the context made it so
necessary to preserve the word " injustice." But
the greatest fault I have to find is the notice
taken of your humble servant, who can pretend to
but a very Httle knowledge in the matters he is
quoted for, though nothing can be more true than
the observation itself; and we cannot without
amazement see men of the best learning arguing
for the integrity of the Hebrew Text from the
great care of the Masorites, when it is plain the
mischief was done before the remedy was appUed,
and probably applied for that reason, to hinder
things from growing worse.

108 CORRESPONDENCE ON
Whatever becomes of your conclusion, you wiU
be in the case of the inquirer after the philo
sopher's stone : they who will not allow that, yet
will allow the inquiry has struck out many fine
and curious observations. The generality of
readers will certainly think it a great paradox ;
and for that reason I could wish you had not to
your conclusion, page 7, immediately subjoined
these words, "But so great is men's love of
paradox." This is a great instance in what a
different light men see their own sentiments from
[what] others do, to whom they are new.
You see I have read your papers by the liberty
I have taken. I again thank you most heartily
for the perusal of them, and shall with some im
patience expect the sequel. I do not doubt but
you have considered well Puffendorf s Introduction,
vvhere he deduces the foundations of moral and
civil duties from the nature of society alone.
What you say of the triple cord is very just, and
extremely well observed and explained : things so
united, ought not to have been separated ; but
authors are fond of pushing their own favourite
notion, whichever it be of the three, beyond its
due bounds, and make it all in all, or alone ne
cessary, when it is so only in conjunction with the
others ; and it is what I think yourself have done,
in expression at least, when you say, page 23,
1. ult., that the doctrine of a future state is the
only support of religion.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 109
But it is time to have done. I have sufficiently
tired you by this hasty scribble, which I hope you
will not only forgive, but accept of as a proof, at
least, of my being very sincerelj^.
Dear Sir, Your most affectionate friend
and humble servant,
Fr. Cicestr.
Be pleased to direct to me to the Deanery.

BISHOP HARE TO REV. W. WARBURTON.
November 11, 1737.
Dear Sir,
I should sooner have acknowledged the favour
of yours of the 23rd, but that I was interrupted in
my course of writing, by going for a few days to
London to pay my court on the birth-day, and
since that, have had my hands full of business.
I received by the last post, the sheets O, P, Q,
They came to my hands just as I had made an
end of running over the 6th Book of Virgil. What
you have said upon the mysteries, and upon this
book, has opened to us a new scene, with which I
think every reader must be highly delighted, as I
am sure I have been ; whether convinced or not,
every body must allow it is extremely ingenious,
though they may suspend their assent as to the
truth. I won't trouble you with any remarks of

110 CORRESPONDENCE ON
my own upon any particular passages, because
that will serve only to give you a great deal of
trouble in favouring me with a particular answer
to them ; and for the same reason wUl not trouble
you with any replies to your last ; but I wUl keep
your letter, and, when I have an opportunity, will
go over all the parts of it with you. I will read
the whole carefully over a second time, and, when
I am at London among my books, will examine
such' quotations as I want further information
about. I shall think no trouble too much, in
examining a work that is so improving, as well as
entertaining. I will now only take notice of one
thing, which your quoting WoUaston's Religion of
Nature, page 240, reminds me of ; and which I
should have mentioned before, and that is, the
Quixotism you charge that work with. I think
as to the sense of the place as you do, that
his Truth is mere cant, and substituting a new
term for an old thing, which all reasonable men
were before agreed in ; but so serious and laboured
a performance should not be treated in so ludicrous
a manner ; that will give great offence to the
admirers of it ; but, besides that, I have a particular
reason* for advising the altering that passage,
which you shall know at a proper time. I men
tioned it at London to the Bishop of Sarum, who,
I found, had for the general reasons given you the
same advice. But I would advise not only the
* See Hurd's Life of Warburton, p, 26, 4to ed.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. m
cancelling of that leaf, but the doing it im
mediately, that it may not get into many hands :
when I see you, I am persuaded you wiU aUow
this is right advice from a friend 
I do not know how necessary it might be to
your scheme, but, if it be not necessary, I could
wish what relates to the alhance between Church
and State had not been taken in here ; for I
take Church and State to be quite new language,
wholly owing to Christianity, and the teachers of
it, unknown to the Pagan world. Though it be
admitted, that the first and chief end of the
magistrate be temporal matters, yet, by a reverse
of the Pope's claim, if religion be necessary for
civil government, it comes under the magistrate's
care, " Spiritualia in ordine ad temporalia ;" and
religion, so far as it concerns the being of a God
and a Providence, is certainly such. Yourself go
further, and admit that the mysteries themselves,
and all the religious institutions of the Pagan
world, were immediately from the Lawgivers.
" Rex idem hominum Phoebique sacerdos," in the
sense of it, I think, shews this ; and it is of no
government truer than the Egyptian ; and the
priest's, just at first, was, I apprehend, purely
ministerial, so that they had no notion of two
societies, one civil and the other rehgious : it was
one and the same society, under the same chief
magistrate, and religious did no more constitute
a society than military did.

112 CORRESPONDENCE ON
I wish you could have found more of the
mysteries among the older writers ; but their
being mysteries has prevented it. I cannot but
think the modern Platonists brought in many
modern refinements to spiritualize them, and that
that was in some measure owing to Christianity.
I see you have read Jamblichus : I wish, if you
have not done it, you would read some orations or
epistles in Julian, which are full of these matters,
though they are such mysterious stuff, that I
confess I had not patience to read them myself. I
think one sees by them that he was extremely
superstitious, and that he despised Christianity
because it was a plain simple thing compared with
their mysteries, as then taught.
The Fathers were certainly very unjust in their
treatment of Socrates and others ; but what led
them to it, besides the provocation they had, was
the old comic poets. After the stage was restrained
from abusing the magistrate, as we see by
Aristophanes the old comedy did, they then fell
upon the philosophers, just as in later days they
have done upon priests. They found such plays
pleased the people best ; the more satire the better.
And Aristophanes, in his Nubes, shewed the way
to all that came after. I believe you will find the
Fathers supporting this charge against the phi
losophers, chiefly by citations from the comic
writers. I remember this was my notion between
30 and 40 years ago, when those things were more

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 113
in my way than they have been since, arid there
fore I cannot answer for it that I am in the right.
I could wish your sentence about the legitimate
use of ecclesiastical power had been left out, since
established matters of Government should not, I
think, be shaken obiter, and in a transient matter.
Such remarks deserve great consideration, and
may besides give offence where one would not
choose to do it.
But I find I have run out into many things I
did not intend, when I begun to write. You will
excuse this hasty scribble, and do not let it draw
you off from what you are about, to give your
self the trouble of a long answer. I chose to vent
these things as they arose under my pen by way
of suggestion only, which may occasion your
reflecting upon some of them in discussing your
own notions. I wish you well at the end of your
work, and am, with great esteem.
Dear Sir,
Your most faithful humble servant, Fr. Cicestr.
Sacramentum is nothing but the translation of
y.tj(rrripiov ; SO the Vulgate, and from thence other
writers. EXTRACT FROM A LETTER FROM BISHOP HARE
TO REV. W. WARBURTON.
The great critic * is obliged to you for letting
Vizzanius pass. He has so great abilities in the
* Dr. Bentley.

114 CORRESPONDENCE ON
critical way, that he need not be a plagiary ; but
his vanity is so extravagantly great, he cannot
help it. If the doctor's moral quahties were
equal to his intellectual ones, he would be a
wonderful man ; but it unfortunately happens that
he is as distinguishedly deficient in one, as he is
excellent in the other. There is more curious
learning in his answer to the Oxford Critics than
I ever saw in any book of that compass ; * but I
did not therefore believe that he did not steal
from Vizzanius.

BISHOP HARE TO REV. W. WARBURTON. 22 May 1738.
Dear Sir,
I am glad to see by yours of the 12th, which by
my being out of town did not come to my hands
till Saturday, that you are got safe back into your
old quarters. Having been all last week tUl Sa
turday night from home, I have not yet seen the
last Miscellany ; but I think, as your friends do,
you should let them go on without any answer for
the present. When they have done, I suppose,
they will reprint all their letters in a pamphlet by
themselves ; and then it will be time enough to
consider what notice should be taken of them. I
think there is no great matter in any I have yet
seen ; nothing but what would arise in the mind
of any careful reader. But, if they had more rea-
* Dissertation on the Epistles of Phalaris.

THE divine legation. 115
son on their side, there is so maHcious a spirit
runs through them, such an endeavour to put the
worst sense upon every thing, and such strained
constructions put upon words, as must offend all
candid readers, since it is so gross that everybody
must observe it. They have overdosed their pre
scription, which wiU, in great measure, render it
ineffectual ; and, though I wish you had given no
handle to any of their reflections, yet I am strongly
persuaded it will in the end turn out to your ad
vantage. I am, with my best wishes for your success in
every thing. Dear Sir,
Your faithful friend and servant, Fr. Cicest.

BISHOP HARE TO REV. W. WARBURTON. 8 June 1738.
Dear Sir,
I happened to be out of town upon rambles
when the last month's Miscellanies came out, and
in the hurry I afterwards forgot to send for them
before I left the town ; but, in truth, from what I
had seen in the former I could pretty weU guess at
the contents of them, and had no great inclination
to read pieces in which there appeared so studied a
malice ; though I have been told that some con
cerned in that paper, and I beheve in those parti-
I 2

116 CORRESPONDENCE ON
cularly, have said of one of them, that they were
written by the best pen in England ; meaning, no
doubt. Dr. Waterland.
I am a Httle in doubt whether your book would
have found so good quarter in Italy and France as
you seem to apprehend, since it is not a single
stroke of the pen that opposes the commonly re
ceived opinions of the sense of the ancients upon
so important a subject as a future state; but it is a
laboured point, and is an argument the freethinkers
cannot fail to make their advantage of, to fortify
themselves in their infidelity, when they are told
they have aU the wisest men of the heathen world,
and the men that reasoned best, on their side.
I have no objection to your intention of pub
lishing your Sermon with a Postscript, in the man
ner you propose 
I have been told the MisceUanies have had an
influence on many of the inferior clergy, and raised
a spirit against your book. They who are wUling
to think and speak more candidly, defend them
selves from what they hope to see in the second
part, or at least desire, till then, they may be per
mitted to suspend their judgment.
I wish you health and success, and am.
Dear Sir,
Most faithfully yours,
Fr. Cicest.

THE divine legation. ] 17
BISHOP HARE TO REV. W. WARBURTON.
1 Dec. 1738.
Dear Sir,
I received yesterday the favour of your letter,
as I did the beginning of the week your present,
for which I return you many thanks, I was ex
tremely pleased to see a second edition of your
book so soon, notwithstanding aU the pains taken
to damn and stifle it in its birth. I turned it over
as soon as it came to me to see the additions you
had made, which I take for granted are in a man
ner whoUy in the notes, with such alterations only
in the text as to make it correspond with the
notes ; but when I can get time I shaU do myself
the pleasure to read the whole again. I beheve
since the first clamours of the Miscellany were
over aU is now very quiet, at least I heard nothing
to the contrary ; and people will now calmly read
and judge for themselves ; and they that do so
with any degree of temper and candour, will find
a great deal of pleasure and instruction. I hope
not only posterity, but the present age wUl do
justice to so much merit, and do assure you it
shaU not be my fault if it do not. I only wish my
power were equal to my inclination to serve [you],
and then you should soon find with how much
affection and esteem I am.
Dear Sir,
Your most faithful friend and servant,
Fr, Cicest.
I write from the country, and therefore can tell
you no news.

118 CORRESPONDENCE ON
BISHOP HARE TO REV. W. WARBURTON. 20 Jan. 1739.
Dear Sir,
I have the favour of yours of the 31st, upon
which I have very little to say. The event will
show whether others make the same objections I
have done, or whether your answer will satisfy.
P. 6, " and as we have commonly received it."
This, I think, is not true ; and the authority of
such a wretch as Tindal nobody will think ought
to have found any credit with you.
The fault is not that you censure Prideaux's
notion, but because it is done in so scornful a
manner, and for a notion that it is not his, but
Dr. Hyde's, who has laboured the point with much
pains, though without judgment, and upon sad au
thorities. Hyde makes this Zoroaster a second to
the ancient one, and only a reviver of the system
and doctrine of the first, which had fallen into
some corruptions ; and the main work, if I remem
ber right, ascribed to him, is the Persian Liturg}^
Mr. Leland's book, take it from beginning to
end, is the best, and least exceptionable, and most
useful of any English book I ever read. I did not
know you had any intercourse with, or had re
ceived any civilities from Mr. Chapman. I did not
dislike your mentioning your superiors, as done in
an offensive manner ; no, I thought it more for
your interest to seem not to know it ; — that forces.

THE divine legation. 119
sometimes, persons to show themselves adversaries
more than otherwise they would choose to do.
They may be softened afterwards, and inclined to
be friends ; and to this it is a check to know the
party concerned openly speaks of them as known
and determined enemies. Besides, teHing the
world so, is telling many what they did not know
before, and who thereby become themselves to be
of the number.
The compliment to M[iddleton] has, no doubt, a
great share in the offence taken ; but the principal
arises, I think, from your having taken so much
pains to prove that all the wise men of the heathen
world disbelieved a future state : the obvious in
ference from which is, that there can be good rea
son for believing it ; and that aU who are infidels
in this point now, if they err, err in good com
pany, since they have all the ancient sages on their
side. This, joined to the compliments on M[iddle-
ton] will be made use of to explain it, and he wiU
be thought to be applauded for his infidelity ....
P. 40. I could wish you had left out those
words, " frightened with the common panic of the
high antiquity of Egypt." This cannot but give
offence, it is so scornful and insulting ; and the
more as Mr. Shuckford is a very modest, good-
natured man, and well- beloved; and the passage is
the more likely to offend, as you do not say what
this high antiquity is. He could not be unwiUing
to allow aU the antiquity consistent with Scripture

120 CORRESPONDENCE ON
chronology. And as for the pretended antiquity
of 30 or 40,000 years, that, I beheve, strikes no
body with panic now a-days. The word common
makes the refiection very general. As to Mr.
Shuckford himself, though a very ingenious man,
he is, I think, a good deal too confident for an
historian, and heaps one conjecture so thick upon
another, in the same argument, that the result
from such premises cannot but be very weak,
P. 46. Note, " morbos ad iram," &c. so in ancient
times was every thing they could not account for.
They knew little of second causes, and therefore
immediately had recourse to the first. This is
every where the case in Scripture. I was pleased
to see in the Oneirocritics 6eo7rep.TTov oveipov, ex
plained by atrpoa-hoKrjTOV.
There is a little French book, written by Le
Clere, about 58, called, I think, " Entretiens M^-
taphysiques," in which there is a great deal upon
this point. The whole I thought a very entertaining
book. You have said pretty much the same thing,
p. 59 ; only the ancients carried it stiU further, to
every thing they did or could not do themselves.
P. 60. " The ancients gave nothing to gods," &c.
Surely this is not true. They aUowed the in
ventors to be inspired or assisted by the gods, as
well as that their lawgivers received their laws
from them. It is true, they did ascribe to the
gods things beyond their knowledge, ad Deos ori-
ginem referre, as Livy observes in his Introduction,

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 121
but it is not, I think, true exclusively ; they as
cribed other things to them likewise.
Not having my books with me, I do not know
whether Herodotus and Diodorus can be recon
ciled, but TrT^e/ouy raiv T^iaKovra is, I apprehend, not
" more than the 30 days," but " more than 30
days ;" but this depends on the context. It should
be cKelvcov raiv rpimv, to signify the 30 days.
You have shown yourself a notable physician. I
wish you as good success in all that is to follow, and
am. Dear Sir,
Your very affectionate friend and servant,
Fr. Cicest.

BISHOP HARE TO REV. W. WARBURTON. 9 May 1739.
Dear Sir,
I should not trouble you so soon with an answer
to the letter I am but just now favoured with, but
that I am going to-morrow for a few days into the
country, to try if it wiU remove a cough that has
long hung upon me. SirTh. H [anmer] 's proceeding
with respect to Shakespeare is very extraordinary.
I doubt the friend for whom he wanted the £200
was his own dear self,* I think you do very well
to get your own papers out of his hands. It is
pity they have been so long in them, since it is
probable he has squeezed what he could out of
them, which is most ungenerous treatment. I
* See p. 84.

122 CORRESPONDENCE ON
hope you will find leisure to give the world a
Shakespeare yourself, which the sooner it is made
known the better. That wiU mortify Sir Thomas,
and perhaps drive him at last into some agreement
with you ; since, otherwise, if you come after him,
his edition wUl either not come out, or not seU,
which he could very iU bear, especially as he has
so good an opinion of his work.
Mr, Romaine's sermon was some ago put into
my hands, I read the title page, but had no in
clination nor leisure to read more of it at that
time, nor indeed have I had any more inclination
to it since, I think I know what he has to say,
and that he must mistake the true points in con
troversy, I hope you will from this instance be
cautious of writing to persons you do not very weU
know either personally or by their general charac
ter. For my own part, I hate giving a single line
under my hand to anybody I do not very weU like,
because I do not know what use may be made of
it ; " litera scripta manet." Since the account you
give me of the sermon, perhaps I may run it over
at my return. I am, dear Sir,
Your most faithful friend and servant,
Fr. Cicest.

THE divine LEGATION. 123

THE HON. CHARLES YORKE TO REV. WILLIAM
WARBURTON.
[Charles Yorke, second son of Lord Chancellor Hardwicke,
was born in 1722. He was educated at a school at Hackney, and
studied first at Bene't College, Cambridge, and afterwards at Lin
coln's Inn ; M.A. 1749 ; Sohcitor General 1756 ; Attorney Ge
neral 1761 ; appointed Lord Chancellor January 17, 1770, and
created a Peer by the title of Baron Morden, but died on the 20th
of the same month, before his patent was completed.
Having accepted, as it is said, the Seals at the urgent entreaty
of his Sovereign, his acute sensibility was so wounded by the cold
and averted looks of his party, who, being in strong opposition to
the Court, disapproved the step he had taken, that in the first
poignant agonies of chagrin and despair, he went home and died
suddenly, it is said, by the bursting of a blood vessel.
" Charles Yorke," says Adolphus, " had studied the Laws and
Constitution of his country, and their apphcation to the science of
politics, in the best school of the age ; and was no less eminent at
the bar than in the esteem of the most enlightened statesmen.
His extensive literary acquirements, his great abiUties, and the in
tegrity of his character, were well known, and universally re
spected." — Nor was he merely a lawyer and a statesman, but had
a taste and a genius for almost the whole circle of polite litera
ture. His active life did not leave him much leisure for authorship,
but his pamphlet, entitled, " Considerations on the Law of For-
feitm-e for High Treason," first pubhshed in 1745, has gone
through several editions. His talents for poetry also were fer
from inconsiderable.
He maintained an intimate and confidential correspondence with

124 CORRESPONDENCE ON
many of his cotemporaries most distinguished for intellectual powers
and acquirements.
With Bishop Warburton he corresponded at the age of twenty
on the subject of his profoundest works. — (Nichols's Literary
Anecdotes. — Collins's Peerage. — Georgian .^ra.)
The following Letters written by him at about that age, show
an extent of reading, a ripeness of judgment, and a precision of
thought rarely to be met with so early in life. They discover also
(with perhaps a single exception) what is more and better, an in
genuous modesty, and a reverence for revealed Truth ; qualities
which will generally be found to characterise those who have drunk
deepest at the purest sources of good learning. — Ed.]

Lincoln's Inn, Thursday Evening, July 28, 1743.
Dear Sir,
Since I had the pleasure of seeing you in town,
Moyle's Remarks on Prideaux's Connection, and
the story of the Thundering Legion, feU into my
hands. I believe I told you I was so ignorant as
not even to have heard of them before your re
commendation. The latter performance is very
finished and elaborate : the first has some material
observations on the subjects which it treats. In it,
to my surprise, I found the following paragraph : —
" I shall begin with Herodotus, a Persian governor
and soldier, who directly affirms that the Persians
of his age had no temples  Cicero says
that Xerxes, by the instigation of the Magians,
set fire to the temples in Greece, upon this prin
ciple, that the universe was the temple of the
gods, who ought to be at large and unconfined.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 125
and not cooped up in waUs. He has given the
true reason for the aversion which the Persians
bore to temples, which did not proceed, as you
suppose, from an abhorrence of worshipping the
gods by images. And Herodotus's reason, rightly
understood, is the same with Cicero's."
You see the remark is the same with that I took
the liberty to write to you in a letter, and you
may easily imagine I should not have troubled you
with it had I been previously informed of this. I
wiU add, however, one authority to support it.
Xenophon, relating in the Cyrop. 1. viii. c. 44, a
sacrifice and prayer which Cyrus made just before
his death, says it was celebrated on the top of a
mountain, toy Ueptrai 9uouo-»v, speaking in the pre
sent tense.
Mr. Moyle has not taken notice of what I inti
mated besides ; that it had been extremely mate
rial for Herodotus to have told us (if the Zoroaster
of the Eastern Chronicles had appeared), that
Darius, the great destroyer of the sect of the Magi,
on whose story he enlarges very copiously and
finely, became afterwards the great restorer of it.
Nor does he observe or mention the passage in
the first book of Herodotus, c. 86, in which the
historian, reciting all the possible reasons which
could induce Cyrus to burn Croesus, industriously
says nothing of any view he had to punishment,
but confines it merely to rehgion, iv uo<a i^mv, eiVe
8r oLKooQlvia raSra KotTotyietv &ewv oVewSi], e'/re Kat

126 CORRESPONDENCE ON
eii)^r]v itnTeherrm SeT^wv, e'lre Ka) TTu^o^evos rov Kpolcrov
eiuai Qeotre^ia, ToGSe eheKev ave^l^acre stt) tt^v Trupi^v'
BouXo'ftevoy iiBsvai h tIs (Jitv Aajp'vcov p6(rerai too ^7\
^covra KaraKa\)Qrivai. I think no less than five
inferences may be drawn from this passage.
1 . That it is probable the Persians were so far
from being pure worshippers, that they were sunk
in the very dregs of barbarous idolatry ; for none
but the most unpolished idolaters offered sacrifices
of the captives conquered and taken in war, as the
primitice of their victory.
2. That if what Xenophon (Cyrop. 1. viii. c, 6)
says of the religious worship, regulated in the
time and under the direction of Cyrus, being con
veyed down entire even to his days, be true, this
place in Herodotus will furnish us with an idea
of Cyrus's religious notions, and give us but a
mean idea both of the improvements made in it
by that prince, and of its state in the age of
Xenophon. 3. The two passages thus taken together wiU
furnish one argument, that there could be no such
person as the second Zoroaster, who made so ex
ceUent a reformation in the Persian ritual by the
encouragement of Darius Hystaspes ; for if he had
ever lived and done these great things, Xenophon
could not have told us rehgion subsisted among
the Persians on the same establishment in his own
time as in Cyrus's ; and, though he blames them
for degeneracy in military virtue, yet he must have

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 127
said, in justice to that people, that they were
greatly enlightened in theology,
4, The passage in Herodotus will serve another
very material purpose, to destroy a notion which
Mr, Moyle starts and admits, and which Dr. Pri
deaux, to save a sinking hypothesis, very readily
lays hold of ; it is that of the first Zoroaster being
other than a mere idolater. Prideaux, in the last
letter of the Correspondence, from a dark passage
in Arnobius, infers that he Hved in Cyrus's reign,
and supposes him to have been the institator of
the Magian worship, approaching nearly to the
truth, and the teacher of aU those tenets which, in
pp, 252, 3, 4, of the 1st vol, ofthe Connection, it
is said the Magi were possessed of at the death of
Cambyses, to which additions and enlargements
were made by the later prophets of his name.
5. If what has been observed be well founded, it
wiU go to the root of another opinion,which has very
generally prevailed, that the Magi were contradis
tinguished from the Sabians as pure worshippers ;
the one adoring fire merely as emblematical of the
good deity ; the other paying immediate adoration
to images as to the true God. Now it seems plain to
me, if Zoroaster, the contemporary of Cyrus, had
the adulterated notions which his master's practice
would charge upon him, that the Magi, who were
his foUowers, must have been equally corrupt with
their neighbours.
I would search a Httle to the bottom of this

128 CORRESPONDENCE ON
matter. The reason of the distinction did not
arise from the sect of the Magi being true, and the
Sabians being false worshippers, but from the dif
ferent modes of their false worship, Herodotus,
1. i. c, 131, has a very odd passage ; his words are
these : — " It is a maxim with the Persians to erect
no statues or images [ayaA/xara], temples, or
altars ; and they even upbraid those who erect
them with folly, for this reason, as I think, be
cause they do not, like the Greeks, believe the
gods to be avQpw7ro<poias, of human extraction,"
If then this was the opinion of the Persians, we
have on the one hand a satisfactory reason for the
abhorrence the Magi had of images which took
their original from thence ; but, though they be
lieved nothing of the hero-gods, yet, on the other
hand, they worshipped the natural divinities, and
none else ; which accounts for their adoration to
fire. What the historian says afterwards strangely
and exactly tallies with this opinion, " They
choose to sacrifice to Jupiter on the highest moun
tains, rov kJkAov Travra too ougavou A«'a KaXsovrey
(which, by the way, is a remarkable exposition of
what they meant by Jupiter). They sacrifice like
wise to the sun, the moon, the earth, the fire, the
water, and the winds. They used of old to offer
only to these. They have since learnt from the
Assyrians and Arabians to sacrifice to Venus
Urania, whom the Assyrians caU Mylitta, the Ara
bians Alitta, the Persians Mithras ,•" which, every

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 129
one knows, is a name these last gave to the prin
cipal fire in the mundane system. One thing more
may be offered plausibly in support of this senti
ment ; that it is very remarkable Persia has not
added one hero to the catalogue of gods, but they
are furnished mostly by Egypt and Greece.
I cannot avoid taking notice of a passage which
Mr. M. cites from Nicolaus Damascenus, whence
he argues that Zoroaster was more ancient than
Cyrus, and from whence the existence of a book
like the Zenda is imagined by him, though he
would not be understood to mean the modern forge
ries. That writer tells us, " When the Persians were
burning Croesus, they bethought themselves of
the oracles or laws of Zoroaster, which forbade
such a profanation of fire." But Herodotus says
nothing of this difficulty, which is affirmed to have
arisen in the midst of the ceremony. Indeed, it is
absurd to imagine, on so solemn an occasion, if any
such law had been known, that it would not either
have occurred to their observation before, or not
have been mentioned at all. The historian's ac
count is more natural, that the invocation of
Solon made an impression upon Cyrus, and a vio
lent shower of rain falling which extinguished the
flames of the pile, he took it to be an indication of
celestial favour to Croesus, and on that account not
only ordered him to be taken down, but even re
ceived him into confidence. Now if the reason
suggested by Nicol. Damasc. for saving Croesus
K

130 CORRESPONDENCE ON
very probably never entered into Cyrus's mind, nor
had any influence in the affair, the credit of one
testimony at least for believing the Zoroaster who
lived before or in the time of that king to be the
admired legislator of the Persians, and the in
spired book of his laws to be the standard of their
conduct, is destroyed.
The supposition of two books will be of as little
service as that of the two prophets. In the latter
case, there are various arguments to overthrow the
facts endeavoured to be estabhshed by the opinion :
in the former, the very apposite place you once
pointed out to me in the Alcoran will confute, not
only the authority of the Zendavist, which is read
at present among the Giiebres, and is imputed to
the second Zoroaster, but even the probability of
any book written by the first, as Nic. Dam. inti
mates, and which Mr. M. thinks was genuine, and
is now lost. However, this it cannot be rash to
say, if the book which Moyle infers to have ex
isted once was never quoted or applied to the occa
sion of sacrificing CrcESus, we have no reason, from
the testimony of the writer whom he cites, to admit
the existence of that book.
Before I conclude my letter, I must hint an an
swer to an objection which now strikes me, and
may, perhaps, be made to my joining the two
places in Herodotus and Xenophon, and reasoning
from them united ; that they are writers of very
different genius, treat Cyrus's story in so different

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 131
a manner, the one as an historian, the other as a
novehst, that to iUustrate the one by the other is
like endeavouring to ascertain truth by fiction and
romance. But I think we may distinguish in
Xenoph, Instit, of Cyrus, between such facts as he
manifestly invents, either to raise the character of
his prince, or embelHsh his work, and such as
being introduced obiter have nothing to do with
the justi effigies imperii (which Tully says he
painted), and seem to be colours or strokes of
truth worked up or mixed with his fable, to give
an air of seriousness and probability to the whole.
Many facts he entirely omits or varies, as that of
the design to sacrifice Croesus : why ? because he
saw it would not redound to Cyrus's credit, and
would give a tincture of gross superstition to his
character, which might scarce agree with the
Grecian, much less with the Socratic manners he
ascribes to him. But I see no reason why we
should not give entire credit, when he asserts, in
general, that rehgion was on the same footing in
Persia during his own age as it was in that
of Cyrus, And the rather as he is particularly
reserved and sUent on the subject, and assigns
no extraordinary or romantic degree of purity
to it.
You will excuse my impertinence in troubling
you with these observations ; but, inaccurate or ill-
strung together as they may be, you must remem
ber that you encouraged me to do it freely ; and
K 2

132 CORRESPONDENCE ON
while they were in my mind I chose to commit
them to paper, rather than stay tiU I should have
an opportunity of conversing with you. In the
mean whUe, even though your partiality for me
should find anything to please you here, I must
beg you would not communicate the letter to any
body else ; for one can trust a friend with weak
nesses, which it would be indiscreet and senseless,
if not indecent, to disclose to others,
I am, most faithfuUy,
Your obhged and obedient servant,
Chas. Yorke.
If you have the least command for me, I must
acquaint you that I shaU continue in London
tiU the latter end of next week, and shaU then
turn rambler for the rest of the vacation.

THE HON. CHARLES YORKE TO THE REV.
WILLIAM WARBURTON.
Lincoln's Inn, Tuesday, Dec. 20, 1743.
Dear Sir,
If I fancied myself of importance enough in bu
siness, I should make an apology for not writing to
you earlier from the length of the term, as you are
pleased to do very politely from the dissipated
state of your friends in the long vacation. I am
sensible that I had every reason in the world to be

THE divine legation. . 133
affected with the amiable expressions of your last
letter, which I know how to feel and acknowledge
as I ought ; convinced, by the most elegant and
certain proofs, that the principle of mind from
which they flow will ever be the same in you.
The observations to which you seem partial, for
their author's sake, were suggested by running
over Moyle's Papers, and struck out in a heat ;
and, like what is struck out in the glow of disputa
tion, have in some parts scarce approved themselves
to my cooler thoughts. The distinction to be
made concerning Xenophon's Inst, of Cyrus is,
I beheve, not entirely without foundation, because
Xenophon, as a poet or novelist, must observe the
decorum of his scene as to the manners of the age
and country in which he lays it. The reasoning
on the strange passage in Nic, Damasc, seemed
conclusive, as far as that passage could ope
rate to shew that Zoroaster had left a written
book of Oracles or Law. Possibly, though I think
it highly improbable, other testimonies may evince
the existence of such book antiently, the loss and
traditional report of which may have given rise and
countenance to the modern forgery ; just as false
miracles have been formed on the credit of the
true. You, who can see round the subject at one
glance, may soon be ascertained of it.
For Zoroaster's age, Stanley (16th part, sect. 1.
c. 1) has a material quotation from Agathias, L. 2,
and a pertinent remark upon it. The historian

134 ^ correspondence on
says, " Later writers mention that he lived in the
time of Hystaspes (but Hystaspes simply, not
Dar, Hystaspes) . Now Hystaspes, the father of
Darius, Hved in the time of Cyrus ; and Zoroaster
cannot be much earHer," For his opinions I have
looked into Cudworth since I wrote to you, who
quotes the writers long after Christ for them ; and
it is known they build on the reputed oracles, of
whose antiquity and sincerity this great scholar
admits there can be no assurance. But though
Zoroaster might believe in a supreme deity, of
whom, like other philosophers, he had confused as
weU as inadequate conceptions, yet it is not clear
that he was worshipped by the lawgiver or his fol
lowers. Thus far we proceed safely, but what has
raised a doubt in my mind is the inference I built
on Herodotus, Clio, c, 131. You upbraid your own
forgetfulness as to a thing I found in Moyle, and
very candidly remove the suspicion of it from me ;
whereas, on searching occasionally into the first vo
lume of the Divine Legation the other day, I was
severely mortified by proving myself guilty of it in
an amazing instance. Indeed it would be un
pardonable in one who reads your writings to
forget any part of what he reads, if the fault did
not carry its own punishment along with it. How
ever, the truth is, I never reflected or remembered
that you had cited the very passage I made use of
and drawn an inference from it to another purpose.
I will state what immediately occurs to me upon it

THE divine legation. 135
as well as I can, and expect from you both the
correction and the pardon of my weakness. It is,
p. 480-1, Divine Legation, vol. I. where you are
reasoning against some moderns who think hero^
worship the first idolatry (a matter, I am per
suaded, that has been more enlightened by you than
by any man who has treated of it since its origin) ;
and you quote the passage from Herodotus about
the Persian religion, and refer the Urania whom
he speaks of to the idolatry of dead mortals ; taking
it that he marks out the progress of their religion
from the natural to the hero-divinities. Now it is
observable that the historian explains his Grecian
term Urania by the Persian Mithras, the Assyrian
Mylitta, and the Arabian Alytta ; the first of which
is by some interpreted of the Sun, by others of the
Moon. But as to the two last, Stanley (part 15,
c. 5) seems clear that they are to be understood of
the Moon ; if so, the first must be explained by
them. That being admitted, one would imagine
that Herodotus intimates the Persians adhered to
the natural divinities. Perhaps Plato might aUude
to the same thing in the place cited by you from
his Cratylus, " that the first men who inhabited
Greece appear to have held these only for Gods, as
do now many of the Barbarians, wa-Trep v\jv ttoXAo*
Tu>v Bap^dpwv," &c. In one light, this adds force to
the argument of Toland, since it shews that hero-
idolatry was so far from being the first idolatry,
that some nations never gave into it at all. But

136 correspondence on
then comes the difficulty, which I freely confess I
cannot answer to the satisfaction of my own mind,
how could the Persians have a local tutelary deity,
except through the channel of hero-worship ? such
unquestionably they had : the answer of the Magi
to Xerxes shews, Herodotus, 1. vii. c. 37, when he
invaded Greece and was alarmed at an eclipse of
the Sun, they told him it foreboded well to his en
terprise, because the Sun was guardian of Greece,
and the Moon of the Provinces of Persia. I am
going to offer a very extravagent conjecture, and,
as I am reasoning in the dark, may be mistaken to
a degree of the wildest refinement.
You know Bishop Cumberland has shewn that
the Persians and Medes, Egyptians and Greeks,
are all colonies traductive from the old Assyrian
under the Nimrod of Scripture ; and, therefore,
though derived originally from the same common
stock, must differ greatly after some time in their
comparative improvements, both of policy and reli
gion. Those who, on the dissolution of that em
pire, settled in Egypt, seemed to have carried away
the best scion, and flourished soonest in their own
soil. The opinion that deities presided over parti
cular countries and societies had its origin
amongst them ; and with it, the Religion of Names,
as you caU it after Herodotus (1. ii. c. 52-3), was
devised to the Greeks. But the Religion of Names
never appears to have been introduced among the
Persians, and yet they hold the opinion of tutelary

the divine legation. 137
deities. The first is plain from what Herodotus
says, that they did not beheve the deities of hu
man extraction ; the second is plain from what he
relates of the answer given by the Magi to Xerxes.
How can the difficulty be cleared ? Perhaps on
this hypothesis ; that, though the Persians bor
rowed not the Religion of Names, yet they bor
rowed the opinion, so as to be persuaded that they
were the care of some peculiar Gods, as was the case
in other countries. The reason why they borrowed
not the Religion of Names might be, that they
had not a sufficient stock of home-bred heroes to
whom they could apply those names, or characters
and rites ; and, being too vain to worship those of
other nations, they dropped that part of the
scheme; but seizing the opinion, applied it to their
former worship, by taking one of the celestial
gods for their tutelary deity. That they had no
such heroes is probable, because none of the hero-
gods, I take it, are of Persian original ; that they
had such an opinion, and applied it in this manner,
is certain, because the Moon was a tutelary deity.
Thus, as they believed in local gods, and were po-
lytheists, their mode of idolatry coincides with
your scheme and all its important consequences,
notwithstanding it a Httle vary from what gene
rally prevailed,
I wiU here mention a passage in Strabo, which
cannot have escaped you, cited by Stanley (part 17,
sec, 3), who says the Persians had temples, and so

138 CORRESPONDENCE ON
differs seemingly from Herodotus. Stanley offers
a very rational conjecture to reconcUe them ; that
probably the Grecian rites and rehgious opinions
might spread or be tolerated in Persia after the
Macedonian Conquest : and of those times Strabo
may be supposed to speak.
You seem to think the observations on Hero
dotus, Clio, c. 86, of the most significance, and your
judgment is certainly well founded. The random
conjecture which I formed on c. 131, and have now
been aiming to establish, was occasioned by a dis
tinction between the Magi and Sabians, which in
the fifth inference I endeavoured to confute. If
that distinction concerning the comparative purity
of the Magi and the Sabians (which last Spencer
has shewn to be the common name of idolaters)
was ever made by the antients, it might have this
foundation. The natural worship was, in the in
fancy of the world, symbolical of the first cause ;
the hero-worship, when it came to be explained
away, as you have admirably shewn, was said to be
symbolic of the natural. Now the Magi might
possibly be thought pure, because, in adhering all
along to the natural worship, they were one re
move nearer to the truth than either the Greeks or
the Egyptians. After all, this very distinction
might take its rise when the modern forgeries
about Zoroaster gained credit among Greek Chris
tian writers ; who, being possessed of that notion,
saw it wherever they looked into antiquity, agree-

THE divine legation. 139
ably to what Cudworth says of Plutarch and his
Manichsean doctrine of the two principles.
Should this last be true, and no man can inform
me so well as yourself in that point, I am repel
ling one phantom by raising, perhaps, what is but
another to oppose it. In music it is sometimes an
elegance to shun the close or cadence ; so in a
system, it is a wise maxim not to be too fond of
completing the circle or roundness. It is for this
reason I am very little solicitous about the success
of these conjectures, whilst I confine them to my
own thoughts, and the view of a friend like your
self, who must consider me as applying the honour
of his friendship to the purposes of improvement ;
the noblest, the most endearing part of those
amiable offices which form it. But, in another
light, I ought to be solicitous that if they are
wrong you should condemn them. And though I
am very sensible of my own inability to add any
lustre, as you express it, to the great names who
are on the side of religion, yet it becomes me as
an humble follower and friend of it to entertain no
opinion that offends Truth, the basis on which it
stands. In the extensive pursuits of this nature which
engage your thoughts, I cannot but approve your
intention of stopping short to review what is past,
and make those who travel after you pause a mo
ment in their journey. To speak out of metaphor,
the reader's memory of your former reasonings

140 CORRESPONDENCE ON
will be refreshed, and his understanding enabled
better to judge of what is to come. If your well
appHed story of Scarlet and his customer held very
universally, a man would not do amiss to shut up
his books ; and without the least renitence roll in
the vortex of dulness with the generality of his
contemporaries. However, I consider men like
you as the servants of posterity.
I exceedingly applaud the dissertation of Aris-
tarchus on the new hero of. the Dunciad, for the
incomparable humour of it. Erasmus has proved
Folly to have all the resources of wisdom and
virtue in itself ; and I think there are strokes in
this little dissertation not unequal to the spirit of
that piece. The placing Cibber in the niche which
Theobald could not fill is of advantage to the
poem, because his character exhibits a specimen of
all those qualities which are ridiculed on the new
plan, beside bad writing and false taste, which were
satirized on the old. The notes contain very inge
nious explications of the poet's meaning, which is
plena sensibus, 1 have always thought Mr. Pope
the best scholar of a poet (except Milton) whom
we have had in this country (and we have had
many excellently learned) ; yet he is not even in
that way without considerable obligations to you.
And when it is added, that you have shewn him a
religionist, and rescued him out of the hands of
the common enemy, the Freethinker, one must
own that you have saved a citizen, (at qualem, Di

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 141
boni ! would Tully exclaim,) and deserve a better
than the antient reward of it.
Were old Dennis to find fault with the present con
stitution ofthe poem, he would say (and it would be
all he could say), that the vision of Dulness's tri
umphs, and the actual establishment of her empire
should not have been produced together; and in no
epic poem is an instance to be found where the same
tilings are shewn both in vision and in action. If this
be an offence against the rules of art, it is certainly
productive of many graces beyond the reach of it ;
and the third and fourth books are so variously and
yet so justly modeUed, that the one only gives a
very imperfect and Pisgah sight, as it is phrased in
the argument, of the fulness of glory in the other.
Nay, in some instances, particularly in the matter
of rehgion, the goddess carries it so much further
than her enlightened prophet, that whereas he ex
horts the Dunces, although they detest a Bacon, a
Locke, or Newton, not to scorn their God, she is,
more wisely and suitably to her character, for era
dicating the very notion of a deity, and in their en
quiry letting the author of the whole escape ; inti
mating, first, the natural progress and gradation of
Dulness from a contempt of the best and most re
ligious writers, where it cannot stop, to a contempt
of religion itself; and then, that religion, furnishing
the subhmest conceptions of the human mind, and
the noblest motives and rules of human conduct, is

142 CORRESPONDENCE ON
the most dangerous, and therefore the most
dreaded adversary to Dulness.
I hear a new book is just come out against you,
but know nothing of its contents. They say, too,
the Laureate is writing against the Divine Legation,
by which he will shew you that nonsense is proof
both against the light arms of wit and the heavy
artillery of reason. So that he is invulnerable.
This hero is an exception to the proverb ; he is
really Achilles sine telo. There is not one part
about him open to the impressions of shame or
good sense.
I am, with great honour and truth.
Your most obliged and faithful
humble servant,
Charles Yorke,
Since I wrote what is above, it has occurred to
me that if Urania is to be understood of the Moon,
one of the natural divinities, the worship which
the Persians learnt in later times is no more than
that to which they were attached of old ; because
Herodotus says dpyf^^^v they adored the sun, moon,
&c. To this it may be answered, that, when of old
they worshipped the sun or moon, it was in the
character of deities that presided generally over
the system. But when the opinion of tutelary
Gods possessed them, the object, although the
same, assumed a new character and name, being

the divine legation. 143
considered as move particularly relative to them
selves. This, you see, is on the principles of the con
jecture already stated, on which, I must repeat it,
that I do not rely, because there are difficulties
attending it, but leave it to the test of your judg
ment.

the honourable CHARLES YORKE TO THE
REV, W, WARBURTON.
Thursday, January 19, 1743-4.
Dear Sir,
It may seem to betray an ignorance of myself,
after the letter which I had the pleasure of writ
ing, and you the trouble of reading, not long since,
that I should presume so far on your kindness as
to renew the same trouble to you, and aim to
amuse you, who are so much better employed,
with the rovings of my imagination. But, as I am
more solicitous for the credit of docility than
judgment, and of modesty than wit, I think my
self concerned to approve these qualities to your
candour, and once more to ask a pretty large
share of it for those weak and inaccurate ob
servations, which my entire confidence in that
disposed me to send you. I have another reason
which weighs with me ; as business is coming on
apace, I know not when I shaU have an opportu
nity of conversing with you at large upon paper.

144 CORRESPONDENCE ON
unless I busy the present in a manner to me the
most entertaining in the world.
I called the conjectures in my last inaccurate
and weak, and perhaps they are not the less so
for being favoured by the opinion of a traveller,
who, though a man of learning and attention,
may be mistaken in a point which demands a
more careful inquiry than probably he gave it.
Sir T. Herbert, p. 301 of his Travels, has these
words, "In old times they [the Persians] were
idolaters, such as the Gawers, the Curds in Syria,
the Persees in India, the Pegouans, &c. ; but, by
converse with the Greeks and Romans, aboHshed
their celestial worship, and (as Strabo relates) re
ceived demonomic, which continued till Mahomet."
So that his sense of the matter is, plainly, that the
Greeks introduced hero worship amongst them,
and that about the time of Mahomet the rehgion
of the Guebres arose. The passage alluded to in
Strabo, is perhaps no other than that cited by
Stanley, 17 sect. c. 3. To turn the thing in
another light, which we may be aUowed to do very
freely, where the mist of antiquity is so thick, it
is not impossible but MyHtta and Alitta might,
like the Isis of Egypt, be queens and heroines of
their respective countries, and their names ap
pHed to the moon, when the human worship
came to be refined away. But then, was Mithras,
to whom these terms are referred, an hero-god ?
That is no where said, and the solution will have

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 145
difficulties. Herodotus expressly says, the Per
sians did not believe the earthly extraction of the
Gods, in contradistinction to the Greeks, who did.
This he says as not being at aU shocked by the
sentiment,* and without any sort of delicacy or
reserve as to the priests. May one not then
imagine, that the Persians never adored heroes,
and that the Greeks in Herodotus' time, at least
Herodotus himself, treated the Persian doctrine,
not as having the advantage of truth, but merely
as a singularity ? I fear you will think me tedi
ous, yet, take the thing in the way I have pro
posed it, the principal circumstance which induces
me to think tolerably of it is, that all I have said
coincides with your principles, and is even buUt
upon them.
The remarks on your minor proposition feU
into my hands the other day, and I run them over.
To me, I confess, they were unsatisfying, nor
unmixt with sophisms. The fundamental propo
sition of the book is, that the doctrine of a future
state is omitted in the Mosaic Law, yet the Jews
had all along a general belief and trust in it.
Now it seems a capital objection, that, if the tra
ditionary opinion of a future state would have aU
the effect upon the Jews as the making it a sanc
tion of the law must have had, which the writer
not only admits but contends, then surely this
reasoning is (the reverse of the Epicurean about
L

146 CORRESPONDENCE ON
God) verbis tollere, re ponere, and is tainted with
the very error you have laboured to confute.
It has occurred to me, and I wiU hazard the
thought with you, that an argument may be
drawn for the support of your opinion, as to the
studied* omission in the Old Testament History
of anything that concerns a future state, from the
obscure and ambiguous manner in which the
sacred writer has expressed the threat denounced
in the infancy of the world. Gen. c. ii. v. 17, "In
the day thou eatest thereof (of the tree of know
ledge of good and evil) thou shalt surely die."
And it is observable that ambiguous terms are
used afterwards, when the sentence is to be exe
cuted, c. iii. V, 19, "Dust thou art, and unto
dust shalt thou return," Both these are under
stood by divines as condemning to a death or ex
tinction which should affect only the body. But
the expression may be understood in three ways :
I, In the manner just mentioned, in opposition
to the perpetual existence which it is fancied was
intended for him in Paradise : a notion held by
Archbishop King and others, and most generally
received, A very Httle reflection will show it to
be attended with a train of difficulties ; for, though
we need not understand by this opinion of Adam's
immortality in Paradise, that he was created of
less perishable materials than his sons, yet we
must suppose him by especial favour designed

THE DIVINE LEGATION. I47
for perpetual existence on earth. The foUowing
considerations are to me insuperable arguments
against it,
1, There is reason to think that, our capacities
and faculties of improvement being very confined
in their own nature^ in the extent of their possible
acquisitions, and stUl more in their mediums of
perception and methods of cultivation, the great
end and exercise of immortahty, which is intel
lectual perfection and enjoyment, cannot be at
tained here.
2. This material and sensual frame, governed by
those great laws of mechanism which prevail
through the universal system of bodies, is too
much encumbered in this life with appetites, ne
cessities, false pursuits, and various imperfections
(even were there no vices in the world which in
crease the inevitable disorders of it), to aUow us
leisure or incHnation for making those acquisi
tions which are not only fitted to the strength of
the human mind, but are not above the human
condition. 3. One may gather, by obsei^dng the visible
world about us, that every part of it has a tem^
porary existence ; that the animal and vegetable
kinds pass in fleeting and regular successions,
because the earth could not bear the expense of
supporting us, were it not for the natural return
of all things. Admitting man, then, to have been
originaUy created of the same materials as at pre-
L 2

148 CORRESPONDENCE ON
sent ; that he was set down on the globe, it being
very much like that which is the object of our
care, itself of a Hmited existence, (as the best reli
gion and philosophy inform us,) nay, the sun, and
the orbs which roll round it, all subject to morta
lity, I ask, whether it is not too harsh, I will not
say absurd, to imagine, that man alone was at first
exempted from the common lot? and, while
fractus illabatur orbis, though composed himself
of equally perishable ingredients, that he was
marked out by Omnipotence a standing exception
or contradiction to the general constitution of
things, 4, But if, to avoid the supposition that God had
provided an unchanging actor for this passing and
shifting scene; an immortal inhabitant for this
mortal though august and beautiful mansion ; it
should be suggested, that before the FaU all things
bore some analogy to this blissful state ; and con
sequent upon it (as Milton feigns) the earth
groaned ; the soil at, once required cultivation,
nor spontaneously produced sustenance of every
kind ; its natural fertUity either exerted itself wan
tonly or not at all, unless previously soH cited by
human industry and art : in a word, that the
whole scheme of things underwent a correspondent
alteration ; yet still, the reasoning under the first
objection holds good, and, if it be impossible to
attain that inteUectual improvement which is the
end of immortahty, where the inlets to knowledge

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 149
are the senses ; the objects that present, and the
organs that retain it, material ; then a separation
of soul and body (which is what we caU death)
was intended even for Adam, and the immortahty
promised to him was that of the soul, after its
disengagement from the clay that surrounds it.
II. The second interpretation which the term
will bear is more qualified, and does not suppose
Adam designed for perpetual existence on earth,
but that the separation might be originally in
tended for him ; yet free from sickness, vexation,
and pain, after outliving many centuries : the
death denounced by the sentence of divine punish
ment being liable to aU that terror and uncer
tainty which continuaUy attends it. In this view,
we may take the fiction of the poets to be scarce
unreasonable ; and that, if Adam had been obe
dient, and conveyed the happy effects of that
obedience to posterity, he and they, like Tithonus,
might have been in auras minuendi. But there is
one difficulty peculiar to this second hypothesis,
and another common to it with the first.
1 . If aU men who come into the world were to
live tUl old age, not obnoxious to those accidents
or laws of matter by which they are influenced
since the FaU, we do not know how far that might
be attended with inconveniences in the course of
nature and society ; and it seems to be the wise
disposition of Providence, that there should be the

150 CORRESPONDENCE ON
same waste of Hfe (if I may use the words) in the
human as in the rest of the animal creation.
2. In the next place, neither in this nor in the
first scheme of interpretation is any opposition,
connection, or analogy observed to the immorta
lity restored by Christ. However, as Scripture
points out a clear and important connection be
tween the Fall and Christianity, what way have
divines invented to connect them? Why, say
they, by death is meant not only in the literal
sense, according to the first interpretation, a can-
ceUing the paradisiacal imruortahty, or, according
to the second, the giving a sharp sting to death,
but, in \he figurative, a state of necessary sinning;
and that, from the moment of Adam's transgres
sion, every thing his posterity was capable of
doing deserved indignation. Hence an inference
is drawn, that all men, being in a state of guilt, de
served, and, had it not been for Christ, would have
received endless torments in hell. These opinions
being the progeny of superstition, monstrous to
common sense and justice, reproachful to religion
and the gracious Author of it, there have not been
wanting many to combat them, and every wise
and good man wiU be proud to be ranked in tha,t
number.* But perhaps they cannot be exposed
* It seems doubtful whether the writer's intention in this most
objectionable passage is to impeach the Church's doctrine of origi
nal sin, or the excesses to which that doctrine has been pushed by

THE DIVINE LEGATION, 151
more shortly and conclusively, than by marking
the true connection between the history of the
Fall and the benefit of Christ's Passion. The am
biguous term death [thou shalt surely die], if one
may rationaUy hold that Adam's body was mortal
before the FaU, must then probably be interpreted
to refer only to the soul ; and consequently the
immortality forfeited in him was the same with
that which is restored in Christ. Now if Moses
designed to be obscure in this very relation and
transaction (which you have with excellent acute
ness, and I think judgment, the first of any man
observed), is it absurd to think the particular am
biguity I am speaking of, which has given rise to
so many jarring interpretations and mischievous
opinions among Christian Expositors, was owing
to the studied omission you insist upon ? or,
rather, can another cause be adequately assigned
for it ?
I remember, very late at night, after eleven
o'clock, and discourse on many things, you once
pleased me much by intimating to me an opinion
which I think preferable to Locke's, because it
clears the subject from metaphysical embarrass
ments, and affords a simpler solution to the whole
a particular school of theology. If the former, it is a melancholy
proof of the lengths to which the abuse of private judgment may
lead a modest and candid mind. If the latter, it shows the dan
gerous reaction consequent upon straining sound doctrine too far
in a particular direction. — Editor.

'52 CORRESPONDENCE ON
difficulty ; that God made man capable of immor
tahty, not actually immortal. But that which I
cannot reconcile to my own weak reason is, that,
in the original plan, either immortality for man's
corporal frame in a Paradise on earth, or in a
more qualified sense, the passage of Tithonus into
a better state, could be designed for him by the
provident Artist of Nature. I am aware that Reve
lation speaks of glorified bodies in the Resurrec
tion. No man will presume to say what the ex
pression imports clearly ; yet, if it probably import
that the soul at its separation from grosser mat
ter secretes a fine and obsequious vehicle, in which
it will emerge hereafter into upper regions, me
thinks it does not stand in the way of those sen
timents I have ventured to propose to you.
After all, perhaps, the conjecture very freely
started in this letter, and only for your eye and
judgment, cannot be supported on the literal plan
of interpreting the first part of Genesis ; since the
tree of life is suggested to be a means of repairing
bodily decay ; and Adam is hastened out of Para
dise, lest he should put forth his hand to eat the
fruit of it and live for ever. If so, either my no
tion (which I can very readily part with) must be
given up, or allegory be resorted to. Those who
do not measure antiquity by modern rules and
artificial systems (a folly you have incomparably
exposed), may think it not improbable that Moses,
in an apologue, the famihar language of his age

THE DIVINE LEGATION, 153
and country, might insinuate a truth of great mo
ment to mankind, and attended with important
consequences in the divine dispensations. He
might the rather choose this mode of conveying
the information, because, though it was a famihar
manner in his times, yet, from its very nature, it
exquisitely favoured the scheme of ambiguity and
studied omission which you impute to him.
You will excuse my laying before you these re
marks ; I do not know that the subject has ever
been discussed, or the difficulties even suggested,
in print ; possibly for obvious reasons : but my
thoughts taking this turn, I could not help com
municating them to you, who are a friend to the
freedom of thought.
The din of politics is so strong everywhere, that
I fancy it must have penetrated into your retire
ment. It tempts me sometimes, in an indolent
fit, to apply Lord Bacon's words to myself, that
" I discern in me more of that disposition which
quahfies to hold a book than to play a part." Yet,
if you come to London this spring, you will find
me engaged in what properly concerns me ; but
your company, whether enjoyed by letter or per
sonally, will always draw me back to my old
studies, " frustra leges et inania jura tuentem,"
You will forgive every weakness in him who is,
with all possible regard, your obhged and faithful
humble servant, Charles Yorke,

'S4 CORRESPONDENCE ON

THOMAS BLACKWELL, LL.D, TO REV.
W. WARBURTON.
[Thomas Blackwell was bom at Aberdeen in 1701 ; and
studied at Marischal College; where he became M.A. 1718;
Professor of Greek 1723 ; Principal of his College 1748; LL.D,
1752, and diedin 1757.
His works are, « An Enquiry into the Life and Writings of
Homer," published in 1735. « Letters concerning Mythology,"
1748. "Memoirs ofthe Court of Augustus," vol, L 1752. Vol.
IL 1755. Vol. III. Posthumous and Unfinished. 1764.
He was a man of ability and learning, but deficient in that
simplicity of thought and expression, which is the criterion of true
taste. — Chalmers's Biographical Dictionary.'^ Aberdeen, June 25, 1736.
Rev. and dear Sir,
I blame myself much more than I hope your
goodness will aUow you to do, for not answering
sooner one of the most worthy and obliging let
ters that ever was wrote. But as this is the time
of our long vacation in the University, I was un
luckily from home when it came to hand, and my
servant neglected it some days after my return.
Permit me. Sir, to tell you, that it contains those
sentiments of men and things of which I am the
the fondest ; and for which you will easily believe
I can find but little vent amidst a low, nonsensical
generation, though the exercise of them would
make the chief pleasure of my life. A hundred

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 155
times have I lived over those agreeable hours I had
the happiness of passing with your most worthy
friend Dr. Middleton at Cambridge. That gentle
man seems to me to have arrived at the true taste
of life; to know the value of superior integrity
and knowledge, and to have set the proper price
upon all those appurtenances of living which the
Romans called elegantly impedimenta. I quite
hope it is needless to teU you how highly I rate
his and your partiaHty to myself ; or to assure you
of my accepting with joy and gratitude the most
welcome proffer of your valuable friendship ; be
assured that I will greedily embrace every oppor
tunity to cultivate it, and do most firmly resolve to
be your guest, the first visit I make to England.
" Nil ego contulerim jucundo sanus amico."
Before I left Cambridge, I was endeavouring to
persuade Dr. Middleton to a northern progress in
company with our common friend Mr. Gale, and
promising to meet them half way, conduct them
through Scotland, and do my best to make then:
journey agreeable. If you could think of such a
relaxation from your severer studies for two
months of the summer, it would just make a proper
company for travelling. And the day and year
you set out, I would mark melior e lapillo.
The pleasure which the reading your masterly
performance gave me, and the opinions of its au
thor, I choose rather to teUto others than to your-

156 CORRESPONDENCE ON
self. Give me leave only to say, that from the plan
of the principal work I expect an original standard
book, to make a noble amends for the exuberant
trash that is daily scribbled, for low crooked ends,
upon the most difficult of subjects ; and, if you
would further indulge me in the freedom ofa friend,
I would communicate a wandering thought which
I have sometimes entertained upon this head.
The common patrons one meets with of infidelity,
either in writing or conversation, are pretty de
spicable ; for the most part young dcerveUs with
out learning or candour ; but the few ingenious
men I have found incHned that way, seem to stick
here : they want, and profess to wish, to be con
vinced of the necessity of the connexion between
what they call the real and the miraculous part of
the Jewish and Christian History. You will easily
comprehend the boundaries ofthis distinction, and
see that it is the difficult link of the chain : the
making it clearly out from the natural connexion
of things will be one of the greatest services done
to our present happy establishment since its first
erection. I had little hopes of ever seeing this
done, till you made me the valuable present of your
Alliance, for sure never were there writings so
wide of the mark as the bewildered advocates for
the best of causes have lately produced. But you
have fairly gained the point de vue (which is the
important step), and have all the country under
you at command ; with the subservient but neces-

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 157
sary qualifications (history, various learning, lan
guages) for managing the complicated subject.
A good many years ago, when I was reading
some Lectures of Greek and Roman History, I
chose Velleius Paterculus as a kind of text, and
wrote a Supplement to the First Book of that artful
author, which my friends were pleased to talk of
as something, as it begun at the earliest times, and
aimed at his spirit and manner. But, as I never
meant to attempt a new edition of him, you wiU
give me leave to return your generous offer, and
assure you of a hearty welcome to my papers if
you have the least thought of restoring him to his
former lustre.
Mr. Theobald's Edition of Shakespeare I read
with advantage, and am much pleased to find that
I was indebted to you before I knew whom to
thank for my entertainment. But I shall not think
myself even with you until I have an opportunity
of balancing the advantage you have gained in the
beginning of our friendship, by the frank and hand
some manner in which you have bestowed that
blessing upon me. Be so good as to let me hear
soon of your welfare, and believe that I am, with
true esteem and affection.
Dear Sir,
Your most faithful and obedient servant,
T. Blackwell.

158 CORRESPONDENCE ON

THOMAS blackwell, LL.D. TO THE REV. W.
WARBURTON.
Aberdeen, Oct. 26, 1737.
Rev. and dear Sir,
I have the very great pleasure of your letter of
September 7, upon which I can with great truth
make you a pretty uncommon compliment, that it
was the more welcome as it informed me of the
loss of another of the same kind : but you are too
well acquainted with the feelings of friendship not
to know that any proof of your remembrance,
though unhappUy, it seems, miscarried, must be
highly agreeable to one who was regretting your
long silence.
I commonly spend our summer vacation, which
is pretty long, in wandering from one country re
tirement to another, and suspect that some gen
tleman's servant's mistake or neghgence has
robbed me of half my entertainment. I was,
indeed, frequently resolving to renew my claim by
another letter ; but, till within these two months,
have for a great while been in no condition to
write: a languishing iUness contracted early in
the spring from a low damp room in the coUege
where I met a morning's [class], has, by frequent
relapses, fuUy convinced me, that I am frail like
other mortals ; for, before that, I imagined the
hardiness of my constitution far above the ordinary
precautions.

the divine legation. 159
You could not regale me with two more agree
able subjects than our worthy friend Dr. Middle-
ton's work and your own. I feel a real impatience
to see them, as I am deeply interested in their
authors, and promise myself the highest instruc
tion and entertainment from their perusal : and
in the mean time, like one bred up with you under
the same masters (a thought I am proud of), and
sure of your bearing with my writing, quicquid in
buccam, will freely tell you -mj fancies (such strictly
they are) about the one and the other.
And first, I would have our excellent and amia
ble friend to allow his hero to be a man, and a very
nice and delicate man too ; — a character attended
with several oddities, when engaged in high strug
gles in a free state. Cicero himself, who, as
Livy says handsomely of old Cato, was minime
suarum laudum detrectator, confesses somewhere to
his elegant friend. Est in me quiddam subinane : it
is certain that his fair intentions and high capacity
in civil managements are unquestionable ; and
that he was possessed of aU the under qualities
that adorn life, wit and learning and pohteness ;
but his unwarhke temper, and want of that great
half of a Roman, the soldier, diminished his weight
in public, and at every new convulsion of the state
made him very obnoxious to the leaders, and afraid
of the littlest tribune of a legion. Nor could I
ever read his divine Philippics without indignation,
to see that such old worthless dogs as Piso and

160

correspondence on

Calenus were sitting sneering at his exalted strains
of virtue and eloquence, and even at the authority
of the dwindled senate, because they knew it was
by dint of sword, and not by decrees and brass
tablets, that the matter was to be decided. Could
he have gone, like Pompey, to his native Arpinum,
and raised a battalion of sturdy veterans to have
made head against the lawless crew, it would
have saved him the ridicule of haranguing the peo
ple and senate upon every piece of fresh news ; a
ridicule which only vanishes when he touches upon
Brutus's and Cassius's arms, who had indeed the
glorious prospect of re-establishing liberty, and
with it the profession at least of every virtue : but
' Ou cro), TeKVQV ejxoj^, Se'Sorat TroXejxijia epya,
'A'K)\,a (Tuy ijxepoei/Ta fj-erip^eo fpya T^oyoio.
Something of this kind I have ventured to write to
Dr. Middleton, and promise myself entire satisfac
tion from his sentiments on so important a subject.
[The succeeding paragraph has been already
given at p. 60, in illustration of a letter of Bishop
Warburton.] A late writer, indeed, (Mr. Hutchinson, the He
brew scholar,) affirms they understood them*
well, which he says is the reason why Moses did
not explain them. " These emblems and figures,
though dark and obscure to us, yet were not so to
* The Mosaic Institutions of sacrifices, atonements, scape
goats, &c.

the divine legation. 161
them; who by those emblems andfigures understood
events as clearly at the distance of many centuries,
and therefore as distinctly beheved in them, as we
at the distance of many years after the event, upon
a relation in a language we understand: which
does no more than put us on a level with them in
point of evidence or cause of belief. I know not
whether you will consider this extraordinary per
son's writings, " Moses' Principia," and " Moses,
sine Principio," as coming within the verge of
your plan. A great man of our country, I mean
in a high station, and deserving it by his superior
merit, was fond of the schemes they contained,
and took the pains himself to draw up and publish
an abstract of them in a letter to a Bishop.* To
tell you my thoughts about them freely, I believe
they are extremely well meant, and discover a
great compass of learning ; but he constantly put
me in mind of Father Hardouin, and the turn his
head had taken upon the falsification of the Fathers.
His hypotheses are the most learned dreams I have
met with ; and when I reflect upon them coolly, and
think how firmly he believes them, it makes me
diffident of the opinions I have formed of distant
things, either in life or learning : I call my ima-
* Duncan Forbes, Laird of CuUoden, born 1685 ; commenced
Advocate at the Scottish bar 1708 ; Lord Advocate 1725 ; Lord
President of the Court of Session 1737 ; died 1747. His " Re
flexions on Increduhty," and " Thoughts on Religion," evince piety
and talent. M

162 correspondence on
ginations to a review, and make them undergo a
scrutiny, to see whether this visionnaire slippery
spirit has not imposed upon me, and played off
an illusion instead of a reality ; and, indeed, we
cannot be over cautious on that quarter, when we
have thought long on any subject, or are fond of a
discovery. You see. Sir, how I indulge myself in writing to you,
with the same freedom and incorrectness I would
talk, and taking every sentiment and expression as
it comes uppermost. You wiU do me but justice
if you attribute it to the firm persuasion I haye of
the worth of your heart, and the open benevolence
of your temper. What else could give me the
confidence to write thus upon a subject of which
you are perfectly master, and of which I know
little more than the few outhnes traced by yourself?
But, indeed, I do as I would be done by in such a
case ; and should think but meanly of that friend
with whom I should be obliged to do otherwise.
What you heard from my friends in England is
so far true, that I have had for many years lying
by me. Memoirs of the Court of Augustus, of
which the gentlemen of the new society having ac
cidentally seen apian, did me the honour to let me
know their willingness to print them. But as it
contains a great number of plates and authorities
from several languages, it cannot be properly exe
cuted without my spending a year at London ;
which partly my situation in the University, and

the divine legation. 163
principally my backwardness to engage in so great
a work, renders very uncertain when it will happen,
or whether it wiU happen at aU.
We have no manner of news in this country but
what are furnished by the church. About one half
of our clergy have rendered themselves obnoxious
to the government to be turned out of their Hvings,
and for ever incapacitated from holding any eccle
siastical office or benefice, by refusing to read
from the pulpit an act of parliament for punishing
sedition and murder. They pretend that no se
cular power can deprive them of their office, or
lawfully hinder them from exercising it ; that they
had it from our Saviour and his Apostles, and are
not to give it up to a king and parliament ; that
they are Christ's heralds, and not his majesty's
nor the legislature's, and that the reading an act
from the pulpit, in which the power of suspending
them from a part of their office (viz. holding
church-courts) is usurped, would be an acqui
escing in such power, which they wiU not do.
Let me hope to hear soon of your welfare, and
always think of me as with much esteem.
Reverend and dear Sir,
Your most affectionate friend
and obedient humble servant,
T. Blackwell.

M 2

164 CORRESPONDENCE ON

the rev. joseph jane * to the rev. w.
warburton.
Sir,
A man of vast genius, and (for the age) prodi
gious learning, may weU despise what comes from
a hand so mean as his whose name is at the bottom
of this address. Sincere love of truth, you will per
ceive, is his only motive. The occasion is your late
Dedication.-^- The sorry writer of these lines was
no less surprised than grieved at reading, among
other passages and expressions (not to say the
whole offspring of a heart avowedly " sensible to
human glory"), the following part of one para
graph ; which, in the love of truth,%f God, and of
your soul, and of the multitude whom you can
influenee, he begs leave to declare his abhorrence
of, very briefly, by remarks, apposite and just, he
fears, as he goes along.
Methinks (when you know the man you will ex
cuse his absurdity, which is apt to show itself in
the broadest light,) I must preface the designed
representation and remonstrance with one word
more. You contemn a superficial scholar, and
* For the clue to this most curious and interesting correspon
dence, see Warburton and Hurd's Correspondence, Lett. CXXIV.
f Of the IV. V. and VI. Books of the Divine Legation, to Lord
Mansfield. The pass^e referred to is in vol. II. p. 268, 4to. edit.
of Warburton's Works.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 165
hate an impudent pretender to letters, reason, his
tory, or science. You wiU not be displeased,
therefore, I may hope, if I, who am no scholar,
and pretend to nothing but some proficiency in
the school of Christ, if even I (suppose the lowest
disciple in the lowest form), in the name of our
Master, take an eminent divine to task for treat
ing a subject of the greatest depth and utmost im
portance in a superficial manner. I hope, too,
while I deal thus freely with you in private, I lie
open to no bar upon earth except that of criticism;
which, though I honour as it deserves, I look upon
as a shadowy branch of human glory.
To the point. Am I strangely mistaken, or had
you that poverty of spirit to which the first beati
tude is pronounced ; had you at heart. Sir, that
admonition of our Lord, " How can ye beheve
which receive honour one of another, and seek
not the honour which cometh from God only ;" —
did you not, in sad truth, " love" and study " the
praise of men more than the praise of God," when
you gave way to aU that train of thinking of which
this is the close ? " Those whom their profession
has dedicated to" (the cause of Christ, the Gospel
of salvation, the truth in the love of it, would I
say) " this service" (say you, " the reasoning
the people into their rehgion again"), experi
ence has taught that the talents requisite (for
the work of the ministry I would have expected),
for pushing their fortune (whom are you speaking

166 CORRESPONDENCE ON
of. Sir, the ministers of Christ or the servants of
sin ?) lie very remote from what enables men to
figure (in heaven, I am sure ; yea, or, truly, you
say well) in a successful defence of Revelation."
Dear Sir! (I speak to a brother disciple and
professor), where is the conversation of a Christian?
Where can it be but " in heaven ?" Sure I am
that as believers, our character, business, and de
light is to seek, and speak, and recommend the
truth in love : and at once to aim at God's glory
and our own. " And (you go on to say of men
of a very different stamp) it is very natural to
think, that, in general, they wUl be chiefly bent to
cultivate those qualities on which they see their
patrons lay the greatest stress."
Other inaccuracies I could note, — many: take an
instance in point. You speak of people : and, if I
mistake not, confound as words equivalent, " peo
ple," " the people," " the common people," " the
populace." The last word mentioned before this
paragraph was " people." " The intrigues (you
say) of church-promotion made people despise the
whole ordinance," Pray, Sir, what people ?
Christian people ? And then, what ordinance ? or
what order ? You have discernment. Sir, abun
dantly more than enough to understand that im
propriety of expression and confusion of thought,
in things sacred, which I suggest to your obser
vation. Look upon the Cross ; look on Him whom your

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 167
and all our sins have pierced : or image to your
self Stephen looking up to Jesus at the right hand
of God ; or look forward to the tribunal of Christ ;
and try, if you can hesitate one moment, whether
in that day you would have to plead for your ac
ceptance and reward (in subordination to the
merits of our Saviour) his simple speech, or all
the popular, admired (as they are singularly inge
nious, learned, and inimitable) productions. Alas!
Sir, His metal has no alloy ; and the coin is of
divine authority. What will, yea, how dreadfully
wiU talents superlatively great avail you in that
day, when the inquiry to be made, and the issue of
it, will (I conceive) turn much upon this point : —
" Have we made full proof of our ministry ? Have
we preached ourselves, or Christ Jesus the Lord ;
and ourselves the servants of all (whom we are
concerned to solicit for their own salvation, as also)
for the sake of Jesus ?" May I then have it to
plead, that, according to that means of spiritual
grace, and that one haU-talent of natural endow
ments which God gave me, my chief care was to
please my neighbour (only) to edification !
If through the same divine grace you are (I dare
confidently speak it) so wise and happy as to think
with me, far from making a King's Bench matter
of this free-spoken, honest, friendly letter (of which
no one knows a syllable), you wiU heartily thank
him who gives you this advice ; and therein, with

168 CORRESPONDENCE ON
evident sincerity, professes himself with due respect
and consideration, Sir,
Your most humble servant, Joseph Jane,'
Student of Ch. Ch. Oxford.

from the rev. w. warburton to the rev.
joseph jane.*
Rev. Sir,
I received the favour of yours without date, and
am much edified with that appearance of piety
which animates aU the parts of it, and am equaUy
indebted for your Christian charity towards me ;
which (as an excellent person on the like occasion
well observes) " habet nimirum hoc, ut etiam cum
ssevit maximfe tamen genuinse suae dulcedinis gus-
tum obtineat." This you have fuUy verified in the
poHte terms in which you have conveyed it ; still
the more generous in you, as you happen to have
conceived of me, as of one who aims only at the praise
of men, and not the glory of God, and who is even
capable of prosecuting the author of so much
friendly advice as a common Hbeller.
With regard to the first part of the charge, I
* See Warburton and Hurd's Correspondence, Letter CXXIV.
note by Bishop Hurd. The present letter is that referred to by
Bishop Hurd as not appearing amongst his papers.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 169
think I may be aUowed the answer which Mr.
John Wesley once gave to those who accused him
of pecuniary views ; " that at the last day it would
be seen with what justice he had been suspected,"
I have something a stronger right to this appeal,
since the judicature of that day is the only one
that can scrutinize the heart, which you seem a
little too rashly to have judged of.
As to the other "part, which intimates me of so
vindictive a temper, you might very well have ac
quitted me yourself, had you known or attended to
this, that of a hundred real libellers, I never yet
called one to account in a court of justice.
You seem to believe that I shall certainly de
spise and treat with much contempt the author of
this charitable freedom. But do you know, or
have you heard, of any instance where I have so
done by any who ever used me with common civi
lity ? It is true many infamous Hbels I have so
treated, as was my chance to mention them occa
sionally. But I have always striven to invite those
to persevere in their good manners who seemed
disposed to use me with decency.
I did not question but I had written many
things which would be little relished by men of
your severity of sentiment ; nor did I ever expect
that my occasional endeavours to settle Christianity
on its true foundation, salvation by faith alone,
would atone amongst such for many other parts of
my writings. Yet I could not suspect that the
passage of which you are pleased to declare your

170 CORRESPONDENCE ON
abhorrence, would have incurred censure even from
the most rigid.
Let us take the matter from its original. In
this great overflow of impiety, debauchery, and ig
norance, well-intentioned men of our order have,
according as their genius, their abihty, or thefr
inclinations led them, pursued different methods
to stem the torrent. Some have principaUy ap
plied themselves to redress the ignorance and
errors of those who yet profess the name of Christ,
whether amongst the great or small vulgar, as
reasonably supposing that a true idea of our holy
faith would bring on those who aspired to its be
nefits, that Regeneration of which the Scriptures
so much speak — a regeneration productive of good
works,* Others opposed themselves to the leaders
of infidelity, and endeavoured to avert that mis
chief which their writings threatened, and had in
part produced amongst the people. Yet stiU, I
hope, both these, though in so different stations,
were great labourers in the Lord's Vineyard. The
first were called to the nobler office of cultivating
the soil, pruning the luxuriant branches, and lend
ing a tender and charitable hand to raise, to rear,
and to point the way to the young and hopeful
tendrUs from whose growth and prosperity the fuU
vintage was to arise. The other cheerfully sub
mitted to the inferior drudgery of rooting out the
* It may be worthy of remark, that the Bishop here uses the
word regeneration not in its strict theological sense, but in that
loose popular acceptation which it bore in his time. — Ed.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. I7I
noxious weeds, and destroying the numerous sorts
of vermin. WhUe happier labcJurers were triumph
ing over the works of darkness with the powerful
weapon of the Spirit, my lot threw me into this
humljler class ; and I have used my poor endea
vours to clear the sacred enclosure of profane
men and their profane opinions. In the course of my
endeavours, it was natural for me to enquire into
this strange apostacy from the holy religion of our
forefathers. I supposed that the folly of parties,
jumbled with intrigues of state, had greatly con
curred to the spread of this mischief, with which
those foUies and intrigues brought on another,
namely an equal decay of learning and piety
amongst the men of our order. And it being evi
dent that these qualities of the clergy are amongst
the necessary means of repairing our miserable
condition, I endeavoured to shew, that without the
encouragement of the Great, (so Httle refined are
the motives of the generality even in our sacred
profession,) it was not Hkely, unless by a greater
share of grace than these men while in such a con
dition could either expect or deserve, that those
means would ever be suppHed. On which occa
sion I used the following words, so offensive to
your sentiments : "Those whom their profession has
dedicated to this service, expeinence has taught, that
the talents requisite for pushing iheir fortune lie
very remote from what enables men to figure in a

172 CORRESPONDENCE ON
successful defence of Revelation." Which impHes
thus much, and no 'more, that the general body
of the Clergy have been, and, I am afraid, always
wiU be, very intent upon pushing their temporal
fortunes : a fact so apparent to Government^both
Civil and Ecclesiastical, that they have found it
necessary to provide rewards and honours for such
advances in learning and piety as may best enable
the Clergy to serve and advance the interests of
the* Church of Christ. And, as this was the case, I
endeavoured in these obnoxious words, to shew,
that if those rewards and honours be so misem
ployed, that, instead of giving them to learning and
merit, they were diverted upon such who can only
promote the interests and flatter the passions of
the Great, young men, in their entrance into life,
seeing how matters were carried, would be tempted
rather to cultivate the sordid arts of intrigue and
adulation, (which I insinuate to lie very remote from
their duty,) rather than the liberal endowments of
learning and piety, which I call the qualities that
enable men to figure in a .successful defence of Reve
lation : a service which, at this time, I think very
needful to co-operate with that more forceable
conviction which arises from the influence of the
Holy Spirit, working in the minds of regenerated
men. This being the obvious sense of this passage, I
confess I was not a little surprised to hear myself

THE DIVINE LEGATION, 173
accused of loving and studying the praise of men
more than the glory of God, because I supposed
that, amongst the numbers of those who dedicated
themselves to the Ministry of the Gospel by Ordi
nation, according to the rites of the Church of
England, many of them would have, along with
their views of serving the cause of rehgion, a view
of serving themselves, and even in that cause
would endeavour to figure in this world as weU as
in Heaven. The severity of your censure, I would
suppose may arise from a mistaken zeal, I was
speaking of men as I found them ; you was think
ing of them as they should be found : I was de
scribing the generahty; you was looking up to
those few particulars whom you most admire. But
let that general picture be as odious as you please,
the drawer of it is not to be blamed, unless he has
aggravated the features of it. And yet you wiU
hardly say that, while your friends use so much
freedom in their tragical complaints of a carnal
and corrupt Clergy.
On the whole, I wish, as heartily as you can do,
that the Lord's people, meaning the Ministers of
Christ, were all Prophets, that is, less intent on
their own business, and more on their Master's.
But we must take men as we find them ; though
Christian charity requires that we should endea
vour not to leave them so. Now, as such men
there have been, as such there are, and such there

174 CORRESPONDENCE ON
will always be, what I aimed at was, to persuade
our governors, whose principal concern it is (in
imitation of Him whose substitutes they are), to
turn the perversity of men into that channel from
whence glory to God might be deduced ; which I
conceived might be done by annexing the honours
of the profession to the most eminent services per
formed to religion by its professors.
But you have taken it for granted that I despise
others, and especially men of your turn and cha
racter. Believe me. Sir, I am better employed,
" Neminem contemno nisi meipsum." Here I go
on good grounds. I know myself best. However,
of all men, a sober Methodist I am least inclined to
despise. If I cannot arrive at their heights, I do
not mahgn their situation ; nor would I willingly
decry their spiritual endowments. I esteem Mr.
John Wesley for his parts ; I esteem Mr. George
Whitfield for his honesty ; but let me not have a
captious hearer, who shaU uncharitably conclude
from hence that I think the one a knave and the
other a blockhead. And yet more iniquitous con
clusions have been drawn from my words on al
most every occasion. But, though I thus think of
some of these men, it does not hinder me from
speaking my sentiments of the mischiefs arismg
from the fumes of enthusiasm ; in which I am
supported by the confessions of Mr, George Whit
field himself, who, were it but for this, would de-

THE DIVINE LEGATION. I75
serve the acknowledgment here paid to his
honesty. Having said thus much of one sort of men, I
should choose to be silent on the chapter of some
others, if so be their folhes had been harmless or
but httle hurtful to Scripture and Revelation, 1
mean the Hutchinsonians and Behmenists. But
since these men have dishonoured as weU Revela
tion itself as the sacred mode of conveying it, by
the maddest visions and the most puerile conceits,
I wiU beg leave to borrow your language, and
frankly declare my " utter abhorrence " of these
egregious follies.
Thus, Sir, whether the purpose of your Letter
was zeal to bear testimony to the truth ; charity
to advise me of my errors ; or mere curiosity to
know the bottom of my thoughts, I have endea
voured to satisfy you by applying myself to aU
these intentions ; and have now only to add that
I am, &c.

THE REV, JOSEPH JANE TO THE REV. DR,
WARBURTON, DEAN OF BRISTOL,
Christ Church, Jan. 16, 1759,
Rev. Sir,
I know not how to acknowledge the honour you
did me, and gained to yourself, in answering my
rude address and warm expostulation so meekly

^76 CORRESPONDENCE ON
and obligingly. I am eager to make due acknow
ledgment, but a very afflictive illness, which I have
long laboured under, disables me much from ex
pressing my sentiments as I would. As unable am
I to explain my notion of any matter. The morn
ing after I received your astonishing favour, I set
pen to paper, and scratched down a great number
of lines in the fuUness of my heart in my hasty
way, in a kind of short hand of my own ; a fort
night after (so simply I teU my tale) I added, by
way of postscript, as much more ; intending, when
I could, to transcribe so much of what I had writ
ten as I might hope you would read, without of
fence or disgust. That time never will come. My
scribble remains unexamined. I have neither
eyes nor head to attempt it now. Less have I a
heart to go about it.
For the motive of my writing to you, I can say
nothing plainer than what I said, or truer than
what I professed. For the man, it is not in my
power te make you think so contemptibly of me as
I do. For my character, as it relates to your sus
picion, I am attached to no party of any kind, nor
ever was. I have affection enough to the Church
of England to be a sincere member of it ; and what
ever surmise a single feature, viewed in this or that
light, may excite, I know myself too well to sup
pose it possible for any man of sense to take me
for a bigot or enthusiast. Not to trouble you with
more outlines of a very disagreeable figure, I

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 177
hasten to conclude a sorry account of one, who
humbly begs leave to assure you of the very high
and affectionate regard of.
Reverend Sir,
Your much obhged
and most obedient servant, J. Jane.
I hope I commit no trespass in the liberty I take,
having no franks.

N

178 CORRESPONDENCE ON

THE REV. ARCHDEACON TOWNE TO THE REV.
ARCHDEACON BALGUY.*
[John Towne was of Clare Hall, Cambridge ; B. A. 1732 ;
M.A. 1736 ; Vicar of Thorpe Emald, Leicestershire 1740 ; Arch
deacon of Stowe ; Prebendary of Lincoln ; and Rector of Little
Ponton, Lincolnshire, where he died March 15, 1791, and was
buried. He was an eminent scholar, an affectionate parent, a sincere
friend, and an exemplary parish priest.
Bishop Hurd, in his Life of Bishop Warburton, says, that " he
was of the Bishop's early acquaintance when he lived in Lincoln
shire, and much respected by him to his death. He was an in
genious and learned man, and so conversant in the Bishop's
Writings, that he used to say of him, he understood them better
than himself. He published some defences of the Divine Lega
tion, in which, with a glow of zeal for his friend, he showed much
logical precision and acuteness." To his intimate acquaintance
with, and his impartial judgment of, his friend's great work, the
following Letters bear testimony. — (Nichols's Literary Anecdotes,
ii. 283, 284. — Hurd's Life of Warburton, p. 134, 4to. Edit. —
Warburton and Hurd's Correspondence, pp. 36, 40, 4to. Edit.;
and Edit,]
* Thomas Balguy, D,D. Archdeacon of Winchester. An inti
mate friend of Bishop Warburton, and co-executor with Bishop
Hurd to his will. He died in 1795, aged 79. His epitaph in
Winchester Cathedral gives him the character of " a sincere and
exemplary Christian, a sound and accurate scholar, a strenuous
and able defender of the Christian Religion and of the Church of
England." His chief work, besides Sermons and Charges, is his
'' Divine Benevolence asserted, &c." — Chalmers, and Edit.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 179
Ponton, 9 March [1780.]
Dear Sir,
.... the Bishop of Lichfield * mentioned the
Fragment -f- to me, but I said nothing again to him
on that point, having, indeed, nothing satisfactory,
even to myself, to say. It certainly contains many
excellent and most admirable observations, and
throws great light on the Christian dispensation.
But he had promised to give in the conclusion of
his Ninth Book a summary account of the Eco
nomy of Providence from the Creation to the time
of Christ, to shew that better ends were an
swered by deferring the revelation of a future
state, than could have been gained by publishing
it sooner. And then he was to confute the objec
tions which had been made to his own system. His
omitting to do this wUl be matter of much
triumph to his adversaries. They wiU say that he
found himself unable to do it. However, it is cer
tain that a system may be true and well founded,
notwithstanding objections to it never have been
nor can be fuUy answered. But they wiU be a
dead weight upon it while it continues to be un
popular, and the author to be generally disHked.
The time proper for the publication ofthe Frag
ment (for surely it should be some time or other
pubHshed) seems therefore to be a matter of much
* Bishop Hurd.
t The Ninth Book of the Divine Legation, which was never
finished, and, though printed by Bishop Warburton in his life
time, never published, until inserted by Bishop Hurd in his edit,
of the Bishop's Works in 1788.— Ed.
N 2

180 CORRESPONDENCE ON
importance. The Bishop and you wiU best know
when the pubhc may be disposed to pay a proper
attention to it.
I have often wished that what he said on the
subject of Christianity had been reserved for the
Ninth Book. It appears there to most advantage,
being so strictly connected with the preceding
parts, and necessary to complete the argument.
There can surely be no impropriety, therefore, in
pubhshing it with the other parts of the Fragment.
The Bishop used to teU me, that it would be as
perfectly new to the generality of readers as any
other part of the last book ; for that hardly any
one had looked into his Sermons.
When I used to read the Fragment with more
attention than I am able to do now, I thought the
author did not always write with his usual clearness
and perspicuity. Some of his arguments seemed not
to be so intelligible as one could wish. I thought
that he sometimes ventured on assertions, and
made use of expressions, which an adversary might
easily turn against him, to the ruin and subversion
of his whole system. No passages of this sort
occur to me at present. If any should occur here
after, I wiU take the liberty to trouble you with my
observations on them, if you will be so kind as to
let me know how I am to direct to you in Hamp
shire. In the mean time, you wiU recollect that I once
told you the Bishop did not believe St. Paul to be
the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews. In the

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 181
54th and 56th pages of the Fragment he supposes
that he was not; in p. 106 he supposes that he
was. Does not his interpretation of our Saviour's sen
tence at the last day imply that the wicked and
uncharitable Gentiles are to be consigned to the
everlasting punishments prepared for the Devil and
his Angels ? Is not this something of a-piece with
the opinion of the unmerciful Doctors whom he so
freely treats, c. 1 ? This is a sudden thought,
which I have not considered, but should be glad to
have your opinion of it.
I am, dear Sir,
Your very affectionate humble servant,
J. ToWNE.

THE REV, ARCHDEACON TOWNE TO THE
REV. ARCHDEACON BALGUY.
Ponton, August 12, 1780.
Dear Sir,
 I do not know whether I have any
thing to say with regard to the Fragment, which
may deserve the Bishop of Lichfield's attention or
yours. However I wiU fairly and fuUy lay before
you what has occurred to me in the perusal of it.
He (Bishop Warburton) tells us, p, 69, that
" the Mosaic sacrifices were types (and by both the
dispensations of the Law and the Gospel declaj^ed

182 CORRESPONDENCE ON
to be so) of the great vicarious sacrifice of the
Cross." They are declared to be so in the Gospel, but
where are they declared to be so in the Law ? If
they had been declared to be so in the Law, it
would follow, to the subversion of his main argu
ment, that the Law must have been substantially
the same, and known by the Jews to be essentiaUy
the same, with the Gospel.
Sykes insisted that they could not be -ordained
for types, because they were not declared in the
Law to be so. The Bishop answered, that, though
they were appointed for this purpose, yet they
could not be declared to be so, the very nature of
typical prophesies implying that they were de
signed to hide and secrete the things conveyed
under them.
Our friend could not mean to say any thing
more, than that we may now see, from the nature
and constitution of the Law (considered as a pre
paratory dispensation, or the base and foundation
on which Christianity was to be built), that its sa
crifices were designed for types of the Death of
Christ. But to understand him in this sense will
require more candour than can be expected from
a public so violently prejudiced against him.
P. 77, he speaks of " all Christian Churches,
even the Socinians, agreeing with us that the sacri
fices of the Law were typical of the Death of
Christ."

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 183
He buUds much on this concession, and argues
from it as an acknowledged and uncontested prin
ciple. But whatever may have been the case of
the more early Socinians, yet the modern ones,
Sykes and his associates, are so far from aUowing
the sacrifices of the Law were, that they strenu
ously maintain they were not, typical of the Death
of Christ.
The Bishop's former animadversions on Sykes
wiU be aUeged as a proof that he could not be ig
norant of this. As he treats this author's Scrip
ture Doctrine of Redemption with so much freedom,
p. 4, he wUl be reproached for charging his adver
sary with a principle which, in this as well as his
other works, he rejects as visionary and groundless.
I am, dear Sir,
Your most affectionate humble servant,
J. Towne.

THE REV. ARCHDEACON TOWNE TO THE REV.
ARCHDEACON BALGUY. August 19, — 80.
Pp. 38, 39, 40, Sherlock is charged with believing,
together with Middleton, that the Mosaic account
of the Fall was an allegory, and not an historical
narration of a real fact.
Thus he was very unlucky in incurring the cen-

184 CORRESPONDENCE ON
sure of Middleton, for maintaining that this ac
count was, and the censure of Warburton for main
taining that it was not, a true and real history.
He, both in his Discourses on Prophesy, and his
Appendix, speaks of Adam and Eve as real per
sons, and of the tempter or evil spirit as being
figuratively, or alley orically, represented under the
emblem of the serpent. So that the figure or
allegory goes no further than the language or ex
pression, and does not reach the subject matter of
the relation. Warburton, vindicating Sherlock
against Collins, says, " it was his interest to shew
the deists, that the Mosaic account of the FaU was
a true story ; and this by proving that it was told
alleg orically" (1st edit, of Div. Leg. vol. II. p. 90 ;
last edit. vol. III. p. 116.) This plainly impHes
that Sherlock supposed only the language or ex
pression to be allegorical.
It may be said, Sherlock concurs with Middle-
ton, in asserting that life and immortality was the
sanction of natural rehgion, and that, on this sup
position, the Mosaic account of the FaU must have
been an allegory. But this Sherlock did not see ;
and it would have been very wrong to charge him
Avith believing in, and arguing on, a consequence
which was not perceived and acknowledged by him.
I should be very sorry to find anything unfair
or uncandid urged, or even insinuated, with regard
to Sherlock. Warburton's enemies will insult him
much with his representing Sherlock's opinion at

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 185
different times in such different and opposite Hghts,
as his different views at those times might require,
P. 37, he says, the Mosaic account of the FaU
has been commonly imagined to be an allegory.
But this surely is not true. Waterland, whom he
charges with being an aUegorist, seems to have
been as far from it as Warburton himself.
You find me very minute in my observations ;
but, I flatter myself, you wUl ascribe it to no other
motive than my regard for the author.
But to proceed. The interpretation of the words
the breath of life, and a living soul, given in the
Fragment, p. 1 3, is very different from that given
in the Div. Leg. vol. V. p. 128. The author might
change his opinion in this case, as he has done in
that other relative to the origin of sacrifice. It is
probable that he did ; because he lays great stress
on this last intrepretation in the 14th and 20th
pages of the Ninth Book. However, the argu
ments adduced in the Div. Leg. in support of the
first interpretation, wiU not be easUy got over,
particularly that founded on the words of St. Paul,
" the first man Adam was made a living soul ; the
last was made a quickening spirit."
The last interpretation seems not to be perfectly
consistent with what he has said (Div. Leg. vol. V.
p. 9) of the improbability of Moses proclaiming
the future existence of the soul.
Pp. 95, 96. He here undertakes to solve the grand

186 CORRESPONDENCE ON
difficulty, or to show that eternal life might be styled
a free gift, notwithstanding a price was paid for it.
He solves it by saying, " with regard to man,
the character of a free gift remains to immortality
restored ; for the price paid for forfeited man was
not paid by him, but by a Redeemer of divine ex
traction," &c. This has been often said ; on which
Sykes and others observe, that it is styled in
Scripture a free gift, with regard to God, the donor
of it : but how could it be styled so, with regard
to him, if a price was paid (no matter by whom) by
way of satisfaction for the debt ?
His lordship sent me some of his papers long
before they went to the press, with leave to tran
scribe them ; and here he inserted the foUowing
note in that part of the manuscript which answers
to p. 52, line 30, " distinct and different things :"
" of how much importance it is to attend to this
distinction we may see by the following instance,
when we mistake the sacrifice of Christ, which was
the means of recovering the free gift, for the condi
tion annexed to the gift, we involve ourselves in
endless difficulties ; for this sacrifice is caUed re
demption, satisfaction, and a price paid ; which,
when understood as a price paid for the gift, de
stroys the gratuitous donation of it. But let us
regard the sacrifice for what it really was, the
means of our restoration to that free gift forfeited
by Adam's transgression, and then redemption, sa-

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 187
tisfaction, and a price paid, relate not to the^ree
gift, but to man's deUvery from that state of
slavery unto sin and death, into which he fell back
after Adam's forfeiture of the free gift, and which
state was the condition of humanity before the
free gift was bestowed ; a short and frail Hfe, now
made more wretched by the memory of the Law,
and by the increasing degeneracy of our nature.
The sacrifice of Christ redeemed man from this
state, and put him again into a capacity of receiv
ing a second time the free gift of immortality, with
a positive condition annexed, as at first, but of a dif
ferent sort, as we shall see hereafter."
In this note he asserts, that the sacrifice of
Christ, considered as a price paid for the gift of
life and immortality, would destroy the gratuitous
donation of it : in the printed copy he goes on the
idea that it would not. One would wish to know
on what grounds he changed his sentiments on
this point.
In this note he affirms, that the sacrifice of
Christ was the price paid for faUen man's delivery
from a state of sin and death, in order to put him
again into a capacity of receiving a second time
the free gift of life and immortality.
Here again, it will be urged, that this delivery
from the state of sin and death is described and
represented in Scripture as a free gift, or matter
of mere grace and favour in God. So that the dif-

188 CORRESPONDENCE ON
ficulty of reconciling the idea of a free gift to that
of a price still remains.
I shaU be much obliged to the Bishop of Lon
don or you, if you wiU be so kind as to point out
to me the proper way of removing this difficulty.
Since what Grotius and StiUingfleet have ad
vanced on the subject of vicarious atonement has
given so Httle satisfaction to some of our most
candid and sensible divines, I had entertained
great hopes he would have enlarged a little on this
point in his Ninth Book.
Upon the whole, I am apprehensive that what
he has said in this chapter will make little im
pression on our modern Socinians, Some of them
wUl readily accede to all he has alleged concern
ing the nature, origin, and progress of sacrifice.
They will all deny that there was anything vica
rious in those of the Law. I think his argument
from types is very just and logical, but, urged as an
argumentum ad hominem, in which light he urges
it, can have no force. No new light has been
given to enable us to reconcile the idea of a free
gift with that of a purchased inheritance ; or to ob
viate the difficulties which have been raised with
regard to a vicarious atonement,
I make no doubt but that aU appeared very clear
and decisive to him ; but I fear it will not do so to
his readers.

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 189

THE REV. ARCHDEACON TOWNE TO THE REV,
ARCHDEACON BALGUY.
Ponton, Sept. 12, 1780.
Dear Sir,
I shall take the Hberty to trouble you with a
few more observations on the Fragments.
P, 126, He (Bp. W.) speaks of the new doctors
qf the church, who suppose that Christianity was no
more or other than a repubhcation of the reli
gion of nature. He says, they thought it most
consonant to common sense " that the republica
tion of it should be established in the same manner
in which it was first published to the world," He
here says they were wrong, but in his sermons
supposes they were right, in this assertion, " For
if Christianity were only such a repubUcation, it is
reasonable to suppose it was republished in the
same manner that it was first pubHshed, that is to
say, by innate impressions and abstract principles."
Vol. m. p. 331.
But to proceed. Such a republication of na
tural rehgion, by innate impressions and ab
stract principles, might be talked of by Tindal ;
but is this anywhere the language of those new
doctors of the church, who hold that the miracles
recorded in the Gospel were really wrought, though

190 CORJRESPONDENCE ON
not as credentials of a divine mission, but to ex
cite the attention of the people to the doctrines
announced to them ?
P. 47- I could wish he had not said the use of
Extraordinary Providence was superseded, till he
had mentioned the several circumstances which ena
bled the Jews to gather and arrange their ideas in
favour of a future state ; for he may be charged
by his less candid readers with asserting, that the
gradual revelation of the nature and genius of
the Gospel would have been sufficient of itself to
supersede the use of the Extraordinary Provi
dence. He seems not to have been always so guarded
and cautious as he should have been in his expres
sions, when he is speaking of the revelations of the
Gospel made by tbe later Prophets. In his former
editions of the Div. Leg. he had represented them
as having given very lively descriptions of a Re
deemer and a future state. On my reminding him
that this would not be thought consistent with his
general hj'pothesis, he erased in the subsequent
editions some of these passages, but left others
standing, which afforded matter of much triumph
to one of the writers against him. I could wish
there might be nothing in the Fragment to fur
nish occasion for future triumphs of this sort.
He does not seem to have been so attentive to
this point of consistency as one might have ex-

THE DIVINE LEGATION. 191
pected, even in the last edition of the Div. Leg,
His interpretation of Heb. vui. 4, 5, p. 137, is very
different from that in the note p. 245, vol. V.
I am, dear Sir,
Your most affectionate humble servant,
J. Towne.

PART III.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.

MR. (afterwards LORD) LYTTELTON TO THE
REV. WILLIAM WARBURTON.
[George Lyttelton was the son of Sir Thomas Lyt
telton, of Hagley, in the county of Worcester. He was born in
1709, and educated first at Eton, and afterwards at Christ Church.
In 1728 he travelled in France and Italy ; and in 1735 was M. P.
for Oakhampton, in which capacity he opposed the Court and Sir
R. Walpole. In 1737 he became Secretary to the Prince of
Wales, and in 1744 was appointed a Lord of the Treasury. He
was made Cofferer and Privy Councillor in 1 754 ; Chancellor of
the Exchequer in 1755; was elevated to the Peerage in 1757;
and died in 1773, aged 64.
He was an early and somewhat voluminous writer. His princi
pal work is his " Life of Henry II." matured by the researches and
deliberations of twenty years, and published at intervals between
1755 and 1772. Besides this, he wrote, amongst other things,
" Persian Letters," a satire on the moral and political state of
England, 1735. " Observations on the Conversion and Apostle-
ship of St. Paul," 1747 ; " to which," Dr. Johnson says, " Infide
lity has never been able to fabricate a plausible answer," " Dia
logues of the Dead," 1760.
Though not possessed of the requisite qualifications for the
arduous ofSce of Chancellor of the Exchequer, he possessed consi
derable abilities, not only as a statesman and as an historian, but
also as a writer of taste and imagination. In early life he had
doubted of Christianity, but candid inquiry, under higher influ-
o 2

196 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
ences, had convinced him of its truth. The best testimony to his
moral and religious worth is the title by which he is best known,
" the GOOD Lord Lyttelton." — Nichols's Literary Anecdotes ;
and Edit.] London, June 10, 1740.
Sir,
I am extremely obliged to you for the favour of
your Letter, as I shall always be happy in any mark
you give me of your affection, which I shall en
deavour to deserve by all means in my power.
The book you was so kind to send me I have
read with great pleasure, as I do every thing you
write, not only from the learning and wit that al
ways appear in it, but from the honest use you
make of those qualities. But as you write to
flatter no party, or sect, you must expect to dis
please all violent men, for the same reason as the
candid approve of you. And believe me, sir, who
ever writes upon such subjects, if he writes to
please universally, cannot write well. Yet truth
will at last get the better of prejudice, and poste
rity will do you justice, if the present age should
refuse it you,
I came to day from your friend Mr, Pope. He
is very well, and very busy in making his grotto,
which, you know, is a curious collection of ores,
minerals, marbles, and all the wealth of the sub
terraneous world. You cannot imagine how eager
he is at it.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE, 197
I am going for a month or six weeks into Wor
cestershire and Somersetshire, A letter directed
to my house in Pall Mall will be carefully sent
to me, and always received with great satisfac
tion by. Sir,
Your most obedient humble servant,
G. Lyttelton,

MR. lyttelton to REV. WILLIAM WARBURTON.
London, October 7, 1741.
Dear Sir,
I thank you for the account of the MSS. in the
University Library ; there is one among them I
should be very desirous to see, viz. Revocatio Ar-
ticulorum quos Henr. 2dus. voluit Ecclesiam Ang.
observdsse. \77- As I suppose it cannot be very
long, I will beg the favour of you to get it tran
scribed for me, when any other business carries
you to Cambridge, but not before, for I am in no
sort of haste for it. If you make any stay there, I
would also venture to give you the trouble of
looking into such of the MSS. as were written near
the time of Henry the Second (for as to later
writers I pay little regard to their authority), and of
noting down what they say with regard to one prin
cipal point, upon which I find a difference in the

198 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
books I have consulted ; viz. the conditions upon
which Henry was reconciled to Becket, and whe
ther upon that reconciliation he (Henry) gave up
any of the points in dispute with the Church. It
seems to me that he did not. Becket's Letters,
printed at Rome, and since at Bruxelles, I must
get the perusal of, and imagine I shall meet with
them in some of the Libraries here. Quaere, are
the Epistolce Tho. Cant, ineditce, among Sir Sim.
D'Ewes' MSS, different from those of the Vatican ?
If they are, I should be glad to see them too, I
had once formed a project of giving you the meet
ing at Cambridge, that we might look over these
things together, but I could not find time for it.
In truth I have not leisure enough for the work I
have undertaken, and I do not know when I am
like to have more ; but though I cannot make it
my business, I shall amuse myself with it now and
then, and get through it by little and little, if I
can keep my mind from being disgusted with the
dulness and dryness of the materials from which I
am forced to compose it. Were I writing any por
tion of ancient history, the books I must read for
that purpose would be an agreeable and useful
study ; but I am now fouling my mind with the
dust and cobwebs of Monkish ignorance, supersti
tion, and barbarism, I often envy Dr, Middleton
the fine subject he had to write upon, the Age of
Cicero, — that age which, above all others, before or
since, furnishes the noblest materials for history.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 199
Had he not taken it from me I had resolved to
have made it the amusement of my old age, if I
live to be old : it should have been the " Pabulum
senectutis atque otii ,-" but I would not have con
fined it to the actions of Cicero ; I would have
written the History of Rome from the death of the
younger Scipio, the last great Roman chief who
was not dangerous to the liberties of his country,
and carried it down to the battle of Actium, which
finally changed the commonwealth into a mo
narchy. Of this period, so much of Livy being
unhappUy lost, we have no one entire good history,
and yet I think there are scattered materials
enough to enable one to compose it, not indeed as
Livy did (even supposing a genius equal to his,
which I believe is not to be found), but in such a
manner as to make it a fine and useful work.
Having mentioned Middleton, I cannot help
telling you that I have lately read his new edition
of his " Letter from Rome," and think it is impos
sible to read it without being convinced that the
Christian city has borrowed many of its supersti
tions from the Pagan : though some may arise,
not from any imitation or adoption of the old rites,
but from the common genius of superstition. I
think, too, that the Doctor has considered and an
swered your objection, with a great deal of candour
and good breeding, though it struck at the whole
credit and use of his book, whereas his argument
no way affects yours. Let me therefore beg you,
dear sir, not to reply to him with any acrimony, or

200 GENERAI CORRESPONDENCE,
rather not to reply to him at aU, unless it be to
give up the point ; which you may do with a very
good grace, because, in truth, you are both in the
right, you in supposing that many customs be
lieved to be derived from ancient religions, and
engrafted into the new, are really original effects
of a similar spirit acting alike at different times,
and he in maintaining with, I think, demonstrative
evidence, that the Popish idolatry * is, in many par
ticulars, designedly copied from that of Old Rome.
I have talked with Mr, Pope upon this subject, and
he joins with me in desiring you to let the matter
drop, unless you are willing to shew your candour
in giving it up. Your friend, Mr. Onslow, too, is
of the same mind. Middleton is reaUy an inge
nious man, and a fine writer, and seems to have a
mind to be your friend ; do not lose his friendship
by insisting too pertinaciously upon a dispute with
him, in which, if you could succeed, I do not think
you would do any service to the Protestant cause.
I am sure you will do me the justice to beheve,
that it is only my zeal for your honour which
makes me take the liberty to give you this counsel,
as I am very sincerely and affectionately.
Dear Sir,
Your most faithful humble servant,
G. Lyttelton.
* It must in candour be hoped that Mr. Lyttelton uses the term
Idolatry here in its loose and popular sense, for the dangerous
reverence paid by the Church of Rome to representations of holy
persons ; not in its strict meaning, so as to charge that Church
with paying divine worship to such resemblances. — Editor.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 201
MR. LYTTELTON TO REV. WILLIAM WARBURTON.
London, Oct. 27, 1741.
Dear Sir,
I return you a thousand thanks for the favour of
your last letter, and the regard you are pleased to
pay to my advice. And to show you how little I
have of the spirit of controversy, I wUl own to you
that what you say has induced me to alter my
opinion, and advise you to a different conduct
from what I suggested to you before. I think you
should say to the Dr. (Middleton) in print, what
you tell me you have in a letter, that you acknow^
ledge the conformity, or uniformity rather, of
worship between Popery and Paganism to be as
great as he represents it ; and that therefore you
by no means attack the credit or use of his book.
I would have you add, as you seem willing to do,
that many particular superstitions are, as the Dr.
supposes, borrowed and derived by modern from
ancient Rome ; which is a truth as undeniable as
that the ancient Pantheon is consecrated now to
All Saints. But that the general mass and entire
system of Popery is rather to be ascribed to a
similar spirit than to an imitation or adoption of
heathen rites ; which you may show by some ge
neral arguments, without entering into too great
a detail. This, with proper compliments to Mid
dleton, will perhaps end the dispute better than

202 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
silence, which it is possible he and his friends
might interpret as a contempt. And the Protestant
cause will gain by the issue of it, since you will allow
his charge upon Popery, as far as it can be main
tained, and at the same time fix an imputation
upon that church to which she will not be less
sensible, viz. that of an exact conformity to Pagan
ism in spirit and genius, working to the same bad
ends, and therefore producing similar effects. I
will instance only in a point which has always
struck me, the surprising resemblance between
the very ancient Pagan hierarchy of the Druids
and that of the church of Rome in the twelfth and
thirteenth centuries. Look into Csesar's Com
mentaries, L. vi, and see how exactly they agree in
the most material instances ;— a Papal supremacy
in the chief Druid, not only over the people among
whom he resided, but over all of the same religion
in other countries and states ; a judicature in him
and his dependent priests in all causes, pubhc and
private ; a power of enforcing their sentences and
decrees by excommunication, attended with the
heaviest temporal punishments ; an exemption to
the priests from taxes, war, and aU pubhc bur
thens ; a careful concealment of their doctrines
and discipline from the laity; anda principal share
in the government wherever their religion pre
vailed : — how strongly, I say, do these two eccle
siastical polities resemble each other ! And yet is
there any pretence to suppose that the latter was

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE, 203
formed upon the plan of the first ? Certainly not ;
but the same spirit prevailed in the Popish as in
the heathenish priests, and meeting with the same
ignorance, bigotry, and superstition in the laity, it
naturally ran into the same system. The priests
of ancient Rome and Greece were of a very differ
ent kind ; they were not a separate body from the
laity : and, let Dr. Middleton say what he pleases,
the Pope is no copy of the Pontifex Maximus, nor
do the Cardinals at all resemble the College of
Augurs. The hierarchy of Rome bears a much
nearer resemblance to the ancient church of Bri
tain and Gaul, which I suppose was derived from
an ^Egyptian original ; but this resemblance is no
proof that Popery was designedly copied from
Druidism ; it only shows a similar spirit acting in
both to the same purposes, the purposes of eccle
siastical ambition and power, favoured by the
state of the clergy and people in those ages and
countries in which they prevailed.
Upon the whole, dear sir, I think your opinion
is right in the main, though in some particular
instances Dr. Middleton has demonstrated his : I
should therefore imagine you may end this dis
pute to the honour of both, and to the advantage
of the Protestant cause. Mr. Pope is now at Bath,
and therefore I cannot talk the matter over with
him ; but as he thought before you were both in
the right, I dare answer for him he wiU approve of
your concluding it by such a friendly and candid

204 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
reply as I propose, rather than by silence, which
may look like contempt. All that he or I feared
was, too sharp an answer, without such concessions
as may save the credit of Middleton's work, and
give the Papists no room to triumph in your dis
pute. However, if you would have me send your
letter to him I will, and tell him at the same time
what part I have advised you to take, unless you
please to do it yourself, as I have at present little
leisure for writing. I wish you were not at such a
distance from London, that I might enjoy the
pleasure of your company, and talk these matters
over with you more at our ease : it is a shame to
the age that such a man as you should be hid in a
corner of Nottinghamshire. If there ever arises
in this government any regard to science, genius,
and virtue, you will be called out of your retreat,
and placed in the station your merit deserves. Be
lieve me, dear sir, that nobody wishes it more, or
would be more proud to contribute to it, than
Your most affectionate humble servant,
G. Lyttelton.
Doctor Ayscough desires his best compliments.

general correspondence, 205
MR. lyttelton to REV. WILLIAM WARBURTON.
Argyle Street, Jan. 3.
Dear Sir,
It is always the greatest pleasure to me to re
ceive any mark of your friendship, among which I
reckon your kind congratiUation upon my new
office.* I hope that the change in the administrar-
tion will be attended with good to the public;
some present good, and more in futurity ; for, as
the evUs we suffer have been gradually brought on,
they must also be gradually cured, and by such
remedies as our crazy constitution can bear. I
flatter myself we are not yet come to that state in
which, as Livy says, " nee vitia nostra nee remedia
pati possumus," but we are not far off it, and
therefore the work of reformation must be a work
of time, and rather effected by examples than
laws. One great step towards it we have certainly
made by taking off those odious party-distinctions,
which must for ever have hindered all reformation
while they remained, and were therefore kept up
by those who had an interest that there should be
none, I hope, too, and believe, that we have
purged our foreign affairs of Hanover influence,
and that the war will be now carried on by English
counsels, and to EngHsh objects alone.
* Probably that of a Lord of the Treasury, in the year 1744.

206

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.

Give me leave to assure you that nothing could
give me more satisfaction than if any change of
my fortune could put it more in my power to shew
you with how much esteem and consideration,
I am. Dear Sir,
Your most affectionate humble servant,
G, Lyttelton,

MR, LYTTELTON TO REV. WILLIAM WARBURTON.
Argyle Street, April 12, 1745.
Dear Sir,
I should have sooner acknowledged the favour
of yours, if I had not been hindered by a great
hurry of both public and private business, which
will, I hope, excuse my delay.
I am obliged to your friendship on many ac
counts, but for none more than for the honour and
pleasure you have procured me in the acquaint
ance of Mr. Yorke. He appears to me a young
gentleman of equal virtues and talents ; the last he
will improve by living more in the world, and I
dare say it will be without spoiling the first ; which
is no little promise to make for him, his prcesertim
temporibus. Mrs. Lyttelton and I have a great many thanks
to return you for the trouble you have given your
self in sending us a list of those voyages which it

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE, 207
is worth our while to travel through : under so
good a guide as you are we cannot err, and expect
a great deal of amusement, I hope at your lei
sure (if you have any leisure who have such a work
upon your hands as the defence of true religion),
you wiU also remember another kind promise you
made to me, of assisting me in an abridged account
of the Ancient History of Ireland, I shall come
this summer to that part of my work which re
quires such an account ; and perhaps I may snatch
some holidays from the Treasury, and my other
business, to make some little progress in it. Lord
Chesterfield is coming back from HoUand, with all
the success and aU the honour that could be possi
bly hoped for in the present distressed condition of
pubhc affairs, I wish that or any other good reason
may bring you to town, that I may have the plea
sure of your company, which is always a great
one to. Dear Sir,
Your most faithful humble servant,
G, Lyttelton.

MR. LYTTELTON TO REV. WILLIAM WARBURTON.
Bath, Sept. 2, 1745.
Dear Sir,
I came hither for a couple of days to see Mr.
Pitt, and go to-morrow to London, I wish I could

208 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE,.
have been so fortunate as to find you and Mr,
Allen here, or in town ; but as I understand you
are upon a tour that will soon bring you back to
this place, and that I am not likely to meet you in
London, I take the Hberty to leave this for you at
Mr, Allen's,
The occasion of my troubling you with it, is a
report which I lately heard very confidently as
serted of your designing speedily to publish a Life
of Mr, Pope, in which you animadvert by way of
a vindication upon the affair of Lord Bohngbroke's
Papers. Now, as I know more of that matter than
I believe you do, and am very sure the stirring it
more wUl not turn out to our friend's advantage, I
earnestly advise you not to publish anything upon
that delicate subject till you have had some talk
with me. You wiU also consider how many friends
you have that are also friends to Lord Boling
broke, particularly Lord Chesterfield and Mr.
Murray; and how disagreeable it would be to
them to have you two engaged in an angry dis
pute upon a point of this nature.
I hope you will excuse my taking this freedom,
and impute it to the sincere friendship and great
esteem with which I am.
Dear Sir,
Your most faithful humble servant, G. Lyttelton.
I beg my best compliments to Mr. and Mrs.
AUen.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 209

MR. LYTTELTON TO REV. WILLIAM WARBURTON.
Argyle Street, Jan. 4, 1746.
Dear Sir,
The young man who brings you this is a relation
of mine, who by some indiscretions and faults in
his youth, or rather childhood, many misfortunes,
and the execrable villany of his uncle, who had
the care of him and his affairs, is now in the
greatest distress, aggravated by a miserable state
of health contracted in the West Indies, for which
he now comes to Bath. I have assisted him to the
best of my power, and am carrying on a Chancery
suit for him against his uncle, by which I hope he
wiU recover a tolerable fortune which he has been
wronged of; ia the mean time he is very indus
trious and ingenious to help himself, as far as his
health wiU permit. What I would beg of you for
him is, only to favour him with your countenance,
and Mr. Allen's, while he is at Bath, and recom
mend him to people there to employ him in such
work as he is able to do, and buy some nick-nacks
of him which he has by him, and are, I believe,
good in their kind. He has a wife with him, who,
by all I can learn of her, is a deserving, good wo
man. They are both ill, and it may be of use to
help them to an honest apothecary that wUl take
care of them, and not make them pay too dear for
p

210 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
what they want. If the poor man dies at Bath, it
will make his last moments more easy to him to
have your assistance, and know that his wife will
not be left destitute of succour and consolation.
But, though he is very iU, yet the Bath waters have
done such wonderful cures in the West India
cholic, which is his distemper, that I am hopeful
they wUl recover him,
I will make no apology for giving you this
trouble ; to such a heart as yours and Mr. AUen's
any office of humanity is a pleasure, and a greater
object than this you cannot find, upon whom to
exercise that disposition. I think it long since I
had the pleasure to hear from you, and wUl not
allow Mrs. Warburton to engross you so much as
not to let your friends have their share of you.
Pray make my compliments acceptable to her,
and to Mr. and Mrs. Allen. I am always, with the
greatest regard and esteem.
Dear Sir,
Your most faithful humble servant,
G. Lyttelton.

MR. LYTTELTON TO REV. WILLIAM WARBURTON,
London, May 11.
Dear Sir,
I am very much surprised to find, by your last
letter, that one I wrote to you some time ago, to

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 211
acquaint you that his Royal Highness would gladly
accept your present of the two volumes of your ex
ceUent book, did not come to your hands. By
what accident it miscarried I cannot tell ; this, I
hope, will have better fortune. If you please to
order your bookseUer to send the books for the
Prince when he has your commands to favour me
with mine, I will carry them to him myself.
You need make no apology for the application of
the Newark Petitioners. I should have been very
glad to have served them upon your account, had
it been practicable, only as being your friends,
whether you had yourself desired it or no. But to
make use of your name to me, without your leave,
was certainly wrong ; yet not worth your giving
yourself a moment's vexation upon that account.
Be assured, dear sir, that I shall always think
myself happy in any occasion of shewing the great
respect and esteem with which I am
Your most faithful friend
and humble servant, G. Lyttelton

p 2

212 general correspondence.
mr. lyttelton to rev. william warburton.
London, May 8.
Dear Sir,
I had this morning the pleasure of presenting
your exceUent books to the Prince, who received
them with great satisfaction, and has ordered me
to return you his thanks. I am much obhged to
you for your kind concern about my health. God
be thanked, it has not been hurt by all the fatigues
of this long and laborious session ; and I am now
entering into the married state, with as fair a pro
spect of happiness from it as any man ever did. I
shall leave the town with my bride next Tuesday,
pass a week at Mr. West's, and then go into Wor
cestershire for the whole summer, if not called
back to Parliament by a Report from the Secret
Committee. Wherever I am, it wiU be a great
pleasure to me to hear of your health, and that you
retain your kind thoughts of.
Dear Sir,
Your most faithful humble servant,
G. Lyttelton.
In case you should pass any days at Cambridge
this summer, be so good to run over the manu
scripts there relating to Becket, and see if you can
find exactly what were the terms of his reconcilia
tion with Henry the Second.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 213

mr. lyttelton to rev. william warburton.
Sir,
I have desired your bookseller to transmit to
you from me a new edition of my Persian Letters,
in which I have made some considerable correc
tions. I hope there is nothing in them now which
can be misconstrued into freethinking, in the bad
sense of the word, nor into the least offence to the
Clergy, unless they confound their own honour
and cause (which I am sure they ought not to do)
with that of superstition and priest-craft. You
will find many passages altered, and the whole
much more correct ; but I confined myself not to
write any thing new, or particularly applicable to
these times, being resolved to have no paper war
to carry on against the Court writers or any body
else ; for the same reason I have forbid my book
seller advertising this new edition, and will let it
steal into the world unknown to any but my parti
cular friends. There are indeed two or three
Letters added in the room of others that I have left
out, but they are upon very general subjects. I
believe you will think, upon the whole, that, unless
I had entirely changed the plan of the book, which
is and must be of a critical nature, I could not
make it more free from those objections which it
was thought by some to be liable to at its first pub-

214 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
lication. The sending you so slight a work is
making you a very unequal return for the presents
you was so kind to make me of your most learned
and excellent book (the Divine Legation of Moses
demonstrated), but I beg you to accept it as a mark
of the sincere esteem and friendship with which
I am. Sir,
Your most obedient humble servant,
G. Lyttelton.
I am going on at my leisure times with my His
tory, which I hope, when finished, will be better
worth your acceptance than these Letters, the
product of my early youth. I should have con
cluded the Third Book last summer, if I had not
wanted some books necessary to it, particularly the
Brussels Edition of Becket's Letters, printed from
that of the Vatican. If you could borrow it for
me at Cambridge, I should be obhged to you.

GENERAL CORRHSPONDENCE. 215

DR. JORTIN TO THE REV. MR. WARBURTON.
[John Jortin was born in London in 1698, and educated at
the Charter-house. He was admitted a pensioner of Jesus College,
Cambridge, in 1715; B. A. 1718-19 ; Fellow of his College soon
after ; M. A. 1721-2. He was patronised by Archbishop Her
ring ; and his principal preferments were the rectory of St. Dun-
stan's-in-the-East, given him by that prelate in 1751 ; and that of
Kensington, and the Archdeaconry of London, which he received
from Bishop Osbaldiston, the former in 1762, the latter in 1764.
He died in 1770, aged 72.
His works were various and extensive ; and he enjoyed a high
reputation both as a scholar and as a divine.
He is characterised by Dr. Knox as distinguished by simpli
city of manners, inoffensive behaviour, universal benevolence,
candour, modesty, and good sense. — Nichols's Lit. Anecd.
A long intimacy had subsisted between him and Bishop War
burton ; he having for three years, from 1747, been the Bishop's
occasional assistant as preacher at Lincoln's Inn. But their
friendship seems to have been ill-assorted ; the cool and reserved
temper of Jortin being little in unison with the frank and ardent
temperament of Warburton ; and, like other unequal friendships,
it did not stand the test of time and chance. The following letters
allude to jealousies and misgivings, which appear to have cooled,
if not alienated, the kindly feelings of these two eminent persons
from one another. — Edit.] London, Aug. 12, 1749.
Dear Sir,
By John of Antioch I meant no other than the
most Rev. Bishop Chrysostom, who was of Antioch,
and went amongst Pagans and Christians by the

216 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
name of plain John or Jack, before he got the sur
name of Chrysostom : so Zosimus caUs him, &c.
Lowth was a scholar : we have of him " Com
mentaries on the Prophets ;" though I remember
I thought them not extraordinary; a modest Reply
to the five Letters on Inspiration ; and Notes on
Josephus and the Ecclesiastical Historians. Read
ing, in his edition, has added to the Notes of
Valesius remarks which he had gleaned princi
pally from our divines. Usher, Pearson, Ball, &c.
and some notes of Lowth, amongst which is that
which I mentioned to you. So that it stands in a
pretty conspicuous place, and may perhaps be
seen by some of our London divines. Whether
you will take notice of it or no, you must
judge for yourself.
I wish we had PhUostorgius entire : his hetero
doxy would make him the more valuable as an his
torian. It is good to have writers of different
sects, audi et alteram partem. Eunomius is deli
vered down to us by the orthodox as a siUy fel
low ; but his writings, some of which are extant,
shew the contrary, and prove that he was a man of
ability. He was accused of Manicheism, from
which he was as remote as Athanasius was from
Arianism. Titus Bostrensis lived in the time of
Julian, and died under Valens. He wrote three
books against the Manicheans, which are in the
Biblioth. Patrum, ou il parte des tremblements de
terre arrivez depuis peu, lorsque Julien vouloit

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 217
renouveller I'erreur de I'idolatrie, says Tillemont,
vii. p. 383. Whether Titus meant the earthquake
at Jerusalem I know not. However, there are
vouchers enough without him.
But pray is this Work of yours in the press,
and when may we expect to see it ? I shall des
patch that part of my remarks in few words, and
refer the readers to my friend. I cannot help har
bouring some suspicions concerning the testimo
nies of Rabbi Gants and Rabbi Gedalia, in Wa-
genseil. Did not Gedaha take his account from
some Christian chronicon ? When did these
Jewish worthies live ? You have more persever
ance in study than I can pretend to. An indiffer
ence to all things seizes me ; I desire nothing
more than to forget and be forgotten.
The dead ass came into my mind verUy and
truly, but I rejected him,
I shall be glad of Mr. Forster's acquaintance,
for whom I have had a great esteem ; and to whom
perhaps I have done such little service as lay in
my poor power, by speaking weU of him before
Archbishops, &c. There was a rumour here once
that he was to attack Middleton ; but I suppose
there was nothing in it. There are some acade
mics here, my juniors, who know so little of me
as to think my acquaintance worth the seeking.
I am much obliged to them ; for, if I get not a
few young friends, I shall not know how the
learned world goes on, and what is in fashion.

218 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
I need not tell you that I love to correspond
with you, my letter will inform you of it ; for you
see I scribble on without wit and without end ;
but you will excuse all such imperfections in.
Dear Sir,
Your most humble servant, J. Jortin.
Rufinus is come to wait upon you, and hopes
that you will treat him better than Jerom did.
He desired me to intimate so much.

Copy of a Letter to Mr. Whiston, Bookseller, but
directed to Dr. Jortin on the superscription. Sept. 30, 1758.
Mr. Whiston,
I have read over Dr. Jortin's Life of Erasmus
with great pleasure. If all his readers like it as
well, as I do not doubt they will, you will find your
account in it.
I perceive myself indebted to him here and there,
as particularly in note d, p. 552, I have only
one difficulty about it, which is (as he thinks me
mistaken in the sense of Princeps) how it hap
pened he did not tell me of it during the time he
professed a friendship for me. He will say, per
haps, I should not have had it now, but for the
joke at the end of it. . As to that, the joke has been

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 219
SO much worn, by its frequent application to many
of my betters, that it might have been left at rest.
However, he wUl give me leave to requite his
kindness, and in that way I should have been con
tented to receive his, in observing to him, and to
him only, that where, at p. 114, he translates the
words of Bembus, apud Inferos poena, by the
pains of Hell, I think it should have been the
pains of Purgatory, and not of Hell : as Bembus 's
apud Inferos contained both a Hell and a Purga
tory. But these are trifles. There is another thing
more worth his attention (for it can hardly have
escaped his knowledgej, that, from the first moment
of my acquaintance with him to the last that he
would aUow me to caU him friend, I had the vanity
to be always recommending him to those of the
first quahty whom I knew ; some of whom are yet
living, and ready to do me justice in this particu
lar. I wUl go further, that from that time to this
day, I never wrote a line or a word reflecting on
him (unless he so interprets my vindication of my
sentiment concerning Socrates' behaviour at his
death), nor did I ever instigate any other to do so,
nor was I ever privy to any thing so done. I have
indeed been foolishly enough officious, formerly, to
ridicule some of his slanderers in a public paper.
As to his own conduct during the same period, I
leave that to his own reflections. It is a pleasure
to me, though it should be none to him, that he is

220 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
the first man of parts that has ever entered him
self in the numerous list of writers against me.
Thus much I thought proper to say, and I hope
Dr, Jortin will not be so mean and so vain to ima
gine I had any other purpose in it than to hold him
up a faithful picture of things as in a mirror. I
think he has given too much ear to tale-bearers
and malevolent people ; or perhaps I am mistaken,
and he acts by his own disposition. But this is
not my concern, but his. This paper is for no
one's sight but Dr. Jortin's and yours, unless he
wills otherwise. I am, &c. W. W.
P.S. As this is a Letter that requires no an
swer, I judged it best, on second thoughts, to send
it directly to the person who only has any concern
in it.

DR. JORTIN TO THE REVEREND THE DEAN
OF BRISTOL.
London, October 3, 1758.
Reverend Sir,
I had the favour of yours, which gave me a mix
ture of pain and pleasure ; of pain, for having ever
been at variance with you ; * of pleasure, from
* In 1755 Jortin published, " Six Dissertations on different sub
jects.'' Of these, the sixth was on the state of the dead as de-

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 221
some prospect of seeing an end of it, unless I
deceive myself.
You complain : I could complain too ; but to
what purpose would that serve ? To irritate, per
haps, and that is not my present design.
You say that you never was concerned in the
attacks made upon me. I ought to believe you ;
aud I do be lieve you. But, before you informed
me of it, I thought otherwise ; and so did many
a person besides me.
Give me leave also to say, that I stand equally
clear towards you, in that respect, and that I have
never, directly or indirectly, been concerned in
any of the pieces which have appeared against you.
That you recommended me to persons who had
it in their power to do me service I doubt not.
Vouchers are needless. Your own word sufficeth
with me ; and I thank you for it.
As to the passage in Cicero, which I ought in
civihty to have mentioned to you; if I did not
mention it, my memory deceives me egregiously.
Surely, unless I am utterly mistaken, I did tell you
of it ; and you rephed that Bishop Hare had once
said the same thing to you.
scribed by Homer and Virgil. This, as tending to establish the
high antiquity of the doctrine of a Future State, interfered with
the Argument of the Divine Legation, and drew upon him a
very severe attack from Bp. (then Mr.) Hurd in his " Essay on
the Delicacy of Friendship ; a Seventh Dissertation, addressed to
the author ofthe Sixth." — (^Chalmers's Biog.)

222 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
As to Bembus ; you know that our English word
Hell, if not in the vulgar way of speaking, yet in
its original sense, hath a lax signification, and may
answer well enough to Inferi. But your version
is more accurate than mine ; and (unless you
should forbid it) I would willingly take occasion
to mention it in the next volume, with respect,
and with thanks.
Sit simultatis depositee et nunquam resuniendce
pignus et monumentum I
If I should live to publish that volume, I intend
that there shall be nothing in it, or in any thing
else that comes from me, to give you even the
slightest offence.
I ought to return you thanks for the very candid
judgment which you pass upon the account I have
given of Erasmus. It is a more favourable judg
ment than my own hath been ; and will give me a
better opinion of the work than I had before.
I am. Sir,
Your most humble servant, J. Jortin.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 223

BISHOP WARBURTON TO RALPH ALLEN, ESQ.
[Ralph Allen was born in 1694 and died in 1764, aged 70.
" He was a man of plain good sense, and the most benevolent
temper. He rose to great consideration by farming the cross-
posts, which he put into the admirable order in which we now
find them (1788) ; very much to the pubhc advantage as well as
his own. He was of that generous composition, that his mind en
larged with his fortune ; and the wealth he so honourably ac
quired, he spent in a splendid hospitality, and the most extensive
charities. His house, in so pubhc a scene as that of Bath, was
open to all men of rank and worth, and especially to men of dis
tinguished parts and learning, whom he honoured and encou
raged ; and whose respective merits he was enabled to appreciate
by a natural discernment and superior good sense, rather than any
acquired use and knowledge of Letters. His domestic virtues
were abpve all praise. With these quahties, he drew to himself an
universal respect ; and possessed, in a high degree, the esteem of
Mr. Pope, who, in one of his Moral Essays, has done justice to
his modest and amiable character."
Mr. Warburton had been introduced to Mr. Allen by Mr.
Pope in 1741, and admitted on an intimate footing at Prior Park ;
and in 1746 their friendship was still more closely cemented by
Mr. Warburton's marriage with Miss Gertrude Tucker, Mr.
Allen's favourite niece. — (Bishop Hurd's Life of Warburton.)']
[John Wilkes was born in London in 1727, and was edu
cated at the University of Leyden. He became M.P. for Ayles
bury in 1757, and in 1762 commenced a political paper called
" The North Briton,'' in the Forty-fifth Number of which, April
23, 1763, he published a gross libel on the King. This was voted
by the House of Commons to be false, scandalous, and malicious

224 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
ordered to be burnt by the common hangman, and the author of it
expelled the House. In 1764, February 21, he was convicted in
the Court of King's Bench of printing and publishing an obscene
poem called " An Essay on Woman," to which he affixed the
name of Bishop Warburton. Becoming, as is usual in such cases,
the idol of the populace, he was thrice returned M.P. for Middle
sex ; chosen Alderman of the Ward of Farringdon Without in
1770 ; elected Lord Mayor in 1774 ; and Chamberlain of the City
in 1779, He died in 1797, aged 70, with the reputation of a man
of wit, learning, and polished manners, but of the loosest prin
ciples both of religion and morality.
It is to the scandalous publication last mentioned, and which
involved an outrage, not only on the religion of his country, but
also on pubhc morals, and even on public decency, that reference
is made in the following Letters. If some of the expressions and
traits of feehng should be thought unbecoming the sacred function
of the author, it should be considered in palUation that they were
written by him in the keenness of his first feehng for violated re
ligion, and whilst smarting under a base and wanton attack upon
his character, both as a man and as a prelate. Whatever may
be the unsuitableness of the terms " wretch and monster," in the
mouth of a Bishop, it can hardly be thought that they were in
themselves too harsh for one who had blasphemed his Saviour,
libelled his King, and falsely and wantonly traduced his unoffend
ing neighbour. — (Chalmers' s Biog. Diet.; and Edit,]
Grosvenor Square, Nov, 16, 1763.
Honoured Sir,
I have sat down to write you an account of
what passed yesterday in the House of Lords, on
the opening of the session. But, before I begin, I
must premise how I came to have that share in it
which I had.
On my coming to town, I found a letter from

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 225
Lord Halifax, intimating that it was desired that I
should be in town at the opening of the Parlia
ment, In about a week after Lord Sandwich
came to me from the same authority, with the
most execrable papers in his hand that I believe
ever poUuted the light. They were parodies in
print of the Essay on Man and the Universal
Prayer by Pope, and of the Veni Creator in the
" office of making Priests and Bishops." The
Essay on Man is caUed an Essay on Woman, " with
Notes and Commentary by Dr, Warburton." He
desired to know whether I was wiUing to have him
prosecuted for breach of privilege. I said, that
though I was so diaboHcally treated as to have my
name put to such a heap of diabolic lewdness and
blasphemy, and other insults in the book, yet I
despised the man as so infinitely beneath me, that
I was in no disposition to prosecute him, unless the
King desired it as for his service. He said it was
much so ; and I consented that he (Lord Sand
wich) should move it, and I would speak what I
thought fit on the occasion.
When I had wrote thus far I was caUed to the
House ; else it had been my intention to give you
a minute history of the whole of yesterday's trans
action. But I must defer it to my next, and shall
only teU you at present, that the crime was re
ceived by the House with the utmost astonishment
and detestation. It was fully proved, and he was
voted guilty of it. But before punishment he was
Q

226 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
to be heard, as to-morrow ; but this morning WUkes
fought a duel with Martin, and had two bullets
lodged in his body, which Hawkins extracted, and
declares he may live. So that this action of madness
and despair will retard the continuance of his pro
secution, both in our House and in the House of
Commons ; for the same day a message came to
the King from that House, complaining of the
North Briton, No. 45, which was proved to be his
by the same evidence that proved his diabolic pa
rodies in ours. The House voted it scandalous,
infamous, and tending to a treasonable insurrec
tion. Mr. Pitt objected to the word treasonable,
and divided with a minority of 1 1 1 against 270 ; C.
Townshend with the minority, but spoke nothing.
If he lives he will be expelled that House, and pil
loried, fined, and imprisoned, I suppose, by ours.
I would not lose this early post, just to give you
the sum of things. I reserve the particulars to my
next. I am, honoured Sir,
Your most dutiful nephew
and faithful servant, W. Warburton.
P. S. You cannot conceive the horrors of this
crime. I shall send you a copy of my speech : * I
exaggerate nothing, and by that you may judge.
* This speech, together with another on the same subject, will
be found at the end of the General Correspondence.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 227
I told you some time ago that I was sure the
opposition would degenerate into a faction. It has
done so. The people see it ; and they are Hkely
to be ruined.

BISHOP WARBURTON TO RALPH ALLEN, ESQ.
Grosvenor Square, Nov, 17, 1763,
Honoured Sir,
In my letter of yesterday I was forced to break
off my narrative, where I told you I consented, for
the King's service, to prosecute Wilkes. The
whole proceeding was well planned, digested, and
executed ; and the secret so well kept, that when
Lord Sandwich opened it, there were only two or
three of the Cabinet Council that knew any thing
of the matter. But it being immediately on the
King's retiring after his speech, the House, I
think, was fuUer that ever I knew, and a great
crowd of the foreign ministers just before me ;
but when Sir Sept. found I intended to speak,
he very dexterously removed them all to an
other part of the House.
Lord Sandwich began with aU the expressions of
horror to open the affair. He read many parts
that he supposed were not too shocking ; and it
was necessary to support the charge, that some
should be read. In the midst. Lord Lyttelton
affected to be so much shocked, that he rose up,
and desired no more might be read ; but the
House said. Go on. When he had gone through
Q 2

228 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
those parts which it was possible to be heard read,
he was then to proceed to examine witnesses to
prove Wilkes to be the author. When he had
done his speech, and before the witnesses were
examined, I rose up, and made a speech to the
House, a copy of which I here enclose, that you
may judge of this diaboHc enormity ; for nothing
is aggravated. When I had done. Lord Sandwich proceeded to
the examination of witnesses ; the sum of which
was, that Wilkes gave them to be printed to the
evidence, corrected them himself, owned that he
he was the author, and that it cost him great pains
and labour; that thirteen copies were printed,
and no more. By the way. Lord Sandwich told me
that, before the ParHament met, Wilkes, who had
dispersed these copies to his friends, caUed them
all in for fear that any one should escape into the
enemy's hands ; and then thought himself secure.
In the course of the examination, it appeared
that some letters which were produced of WUkes,
to show he was the author, had been seized by the
Secretary of State's warrant. On which Temple
rose up, and said he had as great an abhorrence
of the Parodies as any Lord in the House (when it
is generally reported and believed, that he had
them in his possession, shewed them to others,
and was much delighted with them) ; but that the
legality of the method by which they were ob
tained ought to be inquired into ; that the liberty

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 229
of the subject was concerned in it ; and a great
deal of nonsense to that purpose. He spoke
wretchedly iU, as usual, and was as wretchedly se
conded by Lord Sandys, who is gone over to the
opposition. They were answered by the Duke of
Bedford, Lord Hahfax, Lord Sandwich, and by
the ChanceUor with his usual heat. Still Temple
hung upon it, and I believe rose up half a dozen
different times, till Lord Mansfield, finding there
would be no end, rose up, and, as he always does,
ended the dispute at once. He said he knew no
thing of this prosecution till he came into the
House (which was true, for I first told him of it
at his coming into the House). He said nothing
was more absurd than the objection. The coming
by evidence illegally does not make that evidence
iUegal in the trial of a criminal. That frequently
criminals have been taken up by such as had no
authority to do so ; but that hinders not their
being brought to justice. In short, he exposed
and ridiculed the objection so effectuaUy, that the
House caUed out to go on. So that the wretch
was fuUy convicted, and the House proceeded to
the severest vote against the criminal. But here
again Lord Mansfield interposed, and said he had
his doubts whether it was regular to come to that
vote tiU WUkes had been heard. On which Lord
Sandwich said, if he had such doubts, he would
defer the vote to this day. While this was doing
in the House of Lords, they were prosecuting tke

230 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE,
effect of the King's Message against Wilkes in the
House of Commons. When the wretch heard the
news of what was done in our House, he was sup
posed to be so thunderstruck as to become despe
rate ; and yesterday morning he sent a challenge,
with most opprobrious language, to Martin, to
meet him immediately in the field, Martin did
so, and lodged a brace of buUets in his body ; so
that we are much afraid he will escape the pillory,
and a thousand actions besides. If he recovers,
and the House of Commons expel him immedi
ately, then Sir Sept. takes him up. If his expul
sion hangs, then there must be a conference be
tween the two Houses before we can get him ....
I break off at present to go to the House, being
summoned on Wilkes's affair. When I come back
I propose to finish my letter.
I have just come from the House, where they
have passed two more votes against Wilkes, The
one is, that (besides the offence against me, which
is to be punished by the House,) the House shall
address the King, that he wiU be pleased to give
order to the Attorney-General to prosecute
Wilkes, his aiders and abetters, for blasphemy,
in his courts of justice. Of these aiders and
abettors Churchill is supposed to be one ; and
some think there are others of higher rank.
The other vote is, that, considering Wilkes's in-
abUity, by reason of his wound, to appear to-day,
that this affair be resumed next Tuesday ; and

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE, 231
that nothing shall excuse his attendance but the
oaths of his physicians and surgeons, that he is
incapable of attending.
Yesterday the House of Commons voted their
address upon the King's speech, without a division.
Wilkes is supposed to be out of danger of every
thing but the gaUows.
I am, honoured Sir,
Your most dutiful nephew,
and devoted servant, W. Warburton.

BISHOP WARBURTON TO RALPH ALLEN, ESQ.
Grosvenor Square, Nov, 26, 1 763.
Honoured Sir,
On Thursday night the House of Commons sat
till two o'clock in the morning, and came to these
two resolutions :
1. That the North Briton, No. 45, is an insolent
and scandalous and false abuse on the person of
the King and the two Houses of Parliament, tend
ing to raise traitorous and seditious disturbances,
to the overthrow of the Constitution, and that it
shall be burnt by the hand of the common hang
man, (The lawyers say it is every thing short of
treason,)

232 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE,
2, That privilege of Parliament does not extend
to crimes and misdemeanours of this nature.
Mr. Yorke never distinguished himself to so
much advantage on the Court side of the ques
tion, and against the party he has gone over to, as
on this occasion. He was universally applauded.
And Mr, Pitt appeared to be so much nettled, that
he abused the lawyers in general, who that day
were all against him. However, he said that, " As
to that impious man, who occasioned the dispute,
and had blasphemed God and the King, he ought
to be thrust out of the House ;" and then thrust
out his crutch in the action of a man driAdng a
noxious animal from him.
The next day the Commons sent to desire a
conference with us ; and the twj Houses met in
the Painted Chamber, when the Commons desired
our concurrence to their two votes. So we parted,
and returned to our several Houses, When we
came to ours, and made our report, it was agreed
to immediately, nemine contradicente, that we
should concur with them in their first vote. The
Lord Temple desired it might be put off till the
Lords had been summoned to attend on this occa
sion. The Duke of Bedford bade him look round,
and see whether he had ever known a fuUer house.
And if they were already there, what occasion for a
summons ? As to the second resolution, it was
agreed that we should take it into consideration
next Tuesday, Wilkes continues to be yet in

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 233
danger. The monster is so singularly circum
stanced that his greatest enemies wish his Hfe, to
bring him to punishment ; and his greatest friends
wish his death, to shake off that load upon them,
and perhaps to prevent some discoveries 
My duty and love to all.
Honoured Sir, your most dutiful
nephew, and faithful servant,
W. Warburton.

BISHOP WARBURTON TO RALPH ALLEN, ESQ.
Grosvenor Square, Dec. I, 1763.
Honoured Sir,
What passed to-day in the House was, several
conferences with the Commons to adjust the cere
mony of agreeing with them in the votes against
the North Briton, the having it burnt by the com
mon hangman on Saturday, and the two Houses
addressing the King on the occasion next Monday.
To-day sixteen Lords in the minority protested
against what passed on Tuesday, of no privilege of
ParHament for seditious libels. The protest is, it
seems, a very long and a very furious one. The
Duke of Devon was in the number, but not the
Duke of Newcastle 
I am, honoured Sir,
Your most dutiful nephew,
and faithful servant, W. Gloucester.

234 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.

A MONSIEUR MONSIEUR WARBURTON.
[Charles de Secondat, Baron of Montesquieu, was de
scended from an antient and noble family in Guienne. He was
born in 1689, became President of the Parliament of Bourdeaux
in 1716, and died in 1755.
His chief works are, Persian Letters, 1721; Causes of the gran
deur and decline of the Romans, 1734 ; Spirit of Laws, 1748.
His writings, which are more distinguished for brilUancy than
solidity, have maintained their reputation in France, but have lost
much of the estimation they formerly possessed in this country.]
A Bordeaux, ce 6 Janvier, 1752.
II n'y a rien de si glorieux pour moi. Monsieur,
que de recevoir dans le meme moment des
marques de la bonte et de la generosite d'un aussi
grand homme. J'apprend par M' Domville, que
vous m'avez fait la faveur de m'envoyer les oeuvres
de M"' Pope, oii vous avez mis des remarques : ce
sont les gravures qui furent graves sur le bouclier
d'Achile. Je voudrois vous marquer. Monsieur,
mon extreme reconnaissance ; elle est propor-
tionee aux grandes qualites de celuy dont je tiens
le bienfait, c'est a dire, que I'un et I'autre sont
infinis. J'ay I'honneur d'etre tres respecteuse-
ment. Monsieur, vdtre tres humble et tres obeis-
sant serviteur,
Montesquieu.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 235

A MONSIEUR MONSIEUR WARBURTON.
A Bordeaux, le 4 Juillet, 1752.
Monsieur Charles Yorke, en me faisant la faveur
de m'^crire, m'a fait ceUe, Monsieur, de me procurer
une de vos lettres ; je ne la dois qu'^ I'ambition
que j'ay d'acquerir et de conserver I'amiti^ d'un
homme tel que vous, et U m'est aussi impossible
de ne point la desirer, qu'il est impossible de ne
point desirer I'honneur. Si je suis assez heureux
de pouvoir faire le voyage que je projete en Angle-
terre, je chercheray. Monsieur, d'y meriter vos
bont^s. Je ne vous mande point des nouvelles de
France, parcequ'il y a pr^s de deux ans que je suis
a ma campagne oil il m'est permit — ducere solHcitse
jucunda oblivia vitae — et j'ay 6prouv6 que Ton ne
travaille pas toujours a proportion du terns que Ton
a a soi, et que Ton emploit mieux le terns qu'on se
d^robe : je ferois bien comme Martial, qui ne
pouvoit pas travailler en Espagne et qui sentoit
que Rome luy manquoit ; on a beau dire, qu'on
est moins distrait a la Campagne ; on Test da-
vantage parcequ'on n'y pent ny se cacher n'y se
perdre. II est vray que je n'avois pas eu le bonheur
d'obtenir les bonnes graces du cel^bre Lord : il y a
trente ans que nous fimes connoissance ; cette
connoissance ne reussit point du tout, elle perit
entre nos mains, et nous n'en pumes rien faire ;

236 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
et sans qu'aucun de nous deux s'en apparent nous
nous separames pour jamais : depuis ce tems j'ay
tres peu parl6 de luy, et ne me suis point embar-
rasse de quelle maniere il parloit de moy ; il a
continue a multiplier ses ennemis, et le bonheur
de sa vie a et^ bien au dessous de ses grands ta
lents. Je S9ais que vous avez eu des dem^l^s avec
luy cl I'occasion de Mr. Pope, et que vous luy avez
dit Ik dessus de tres belles choses. J'ay, Mon
sieur, I'honneur d'etre, avec la plus parfaite estime
et un respect infini, votre tres humble et tres
ob6issant serviteur.
Montesquieu.

FOR THE REVEREND DOCTOR WARBURTON.
A Paris, ce 26 May 1754.
J'ay recu, Monsieur, avec une r^connoissance
tr^s grande, les deux magnifiques ouvrages que
vous avez eu la bont^ de m'envoyer, et la lettre que
vous m'avez fait I'honneur de m'^crire sur les
oeuvres posthumes de Mylord Bolinbroke, et
comme cette lettre me paroit ^tre plus a moi que
les deux ouvrages qui I'accompagnent, auxquels
tous ceux qui out de la raison out part, il me
semble que cette lettre m'a fait un plaisir particu-
lier. J'ay lu quelques ouvrages de Mylord Bolin
broke, et s'il m'est permis de dire comment j'en

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE, 237
ai 6te affect6, certainement il a beaucoup de cha-
leur, Mais U me semble qu'il 1' employe ordinaire-
ment contre les choses, et il ne faudroit 1' em
ployer qu'^ peindre les choses. Or, Monsieur,
dans eet ouvrage posthume dont vous me donnez
une idee, il me semble qu'il vous prepare une
mati^re continuelle de triomphe. Celui qui attaque
la rehgion revel^e n'attaque que la religion revel^e,
mais celui qui attaque la religion natureUe attaque
toutes les religions du monde. Si Ton enseigne
aux hommes qu'ils n'ont pas ce frein ci, ils peu-
vent penser qu'ils en out un autre. Mais il est
bien plus pernicieux de leur enseigner qu'ils n'en
ont pas du tout. II n'est pas impossible d'at-
taquer une religion revelde parce qu'eUe existe par
des faits particuHers, et que les faits par leur
nature peuvent etre une mati^re de dispute : mais
11 n'en est pas de meme de la rehgion natureUe ; eUe
est tir6e de la nature de l'homme, dont on ne pent
pas disputer, et du sentiment interieur de l'homme,
dont on ne pent pas disputer encore. J'ajoute a
ceci quel pent ^tre le motif d'attaquer la rehgion
revel^e en Angleterre ? ou I'y a teUement purg^ de
tout prejug6 destructeur qu'eUe n'y pent faire de
mal, et qu'eUe y pent faire au contraire une infinite
de biens. Je sais qu'un homme en Espagne ou en
Portugal que Ton va bruler, ou qui craint d'etre
bruler, parcequ'U ne croit point de certains articles
dependans ou non de la rehgion revel^e, a un
juste sujet de I'attaquer parcequ'il pent avoir

238 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE,
quelque esperance de pourvoir a sa deffense natu
reUe. Mais il n'en est pas de m^me en Angle
terre, ou tout homme qui attaque la religion re-
velee I'attaque sans interet, et oil eet homme,
quand il reussiroit, quand m^me U auroit raison
dans le fond, ne feroit que detruire une infinite
de biens pratiques pour etablir une verity pure-
ment speculative.
J'ay et^ ravi. Monsieur, que vous ayez donn^
une plus grande ^tendue a votre Legation de
Moise. Cet ouvrage, et votre Julien, sont fort
connus dans ce pais cy, mais ils le seroient encore
bien davantage s'ils etoient traduits, et je pense
qu'on va les traduire ; mais je voudrois bien qu'Us
ne tombassent pas entre les mains de certains de
nos traducteurs, qui defigurent tout ce qu'Us
touchent, et convertissent I'or en fer. Je vous
supplie. Monsieur, de m'accorder toujours la con
tinuation de vos bont^s et de votre amiti^. C'est
une grande chose d'avoir la bienveillance de ceux
qui Ton admire. J'ay I'honneur d'etre, avec toute
sorte de respect. Monsieur,
Votre tres humble et tres
ob^issant serviteur, Montesquieu.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 239

REV.LAURENCE STERNE TO BISHOP WARBURTON.
[Laurence Sterne was bom at Clonmel in 1713, admitted
of Jesus College, Cambridge, 1732 ; B.A. 1736 ; M.A, 1740.
Having entered into holy orders, he obtained by the influence of
his uncle, Jaques Sterne, Prebendary of Durham, the hving of
Sutton, and afterwards a prebend of York, to which, from other
private connexions, he afterwards added the living of Stillington.
In 1760 he removed to York. In 1762 he went to France, and
two years after to Italy. In 1767 he left York, and went to Lon
don to pubhsh his " Sentimental Journey,'' where he died in 1768.
— Chalmers's Biog. Diet.
His works, which are well known, abound in a peculiar vein of
humour, and in a deep tone of pathos ; but they contain many
scenes and incidents of a loose and immoral character.
The following Letters are quite characteristic of the man ; while
those of Bishop Warburton in reply prove how clearly he saw the
errors of his Correspondent, and how judiciously as well as ho
nestly (according to the low standard of the day) he applied him
self to correct them. — Editor,] York, June 9, 1760.
My Lord,
Not knowing where to send two sets of my
Sermons, I could think of no better expedient
than to order them into Mr. Berenger's hands,
who has promised me that he will wait upon your
Lordship with them the first moment he hears you
are in town. The truest and humblest thanks I
retum your Lordship, for the generosity of your
protection and advice to me ; by making a good

240 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE,
use of the one I will hope to deserve the other. 1
wish your Lordship all the health and happiness in
this world, for I am
Your Lordship's most obliged and most
grateful servant, Laurence Sterne.
P. S. I am just sitting down to go on with
Tristram, &c. The scribblers use me ill, but they
have used my betters much worse, for which may
God forgive them.

BISHOP WARBURTON TO MR, STERNE.
Prior Park, June 15, 1760.
Rev. Sir,
I have your favour of the 9th inst. and am glad
to understand you are got safe home, and em
ployed again in your proper studies and amuse
ments. You have it in your power to make that
which is an amusement to yourself and others
useful to both: at least you should, above aU
things, beware of its becoming hurtful to either,
by any violations of decency and good manners :
but I have already taken such repeated liberties of
advising you on that head, that to say more would
be needless, or perhaps unacceptable.
Whoever is in any way weU received by the
pubhc is sure to be annoyed by that pest of the
public, profligate scribblers. This is the common

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 241
lot of successful adventurers. But such have
often a worse evil to struggle with : I mean the
over-officiousness of their indiscreet friends. There
are two Odes, as they are called, printed by Dods
ley, Whoever was the author, he appears to be a
monster of impiety and lewdness. Yet such is the
malignity of the scribblers, some have given them
to your friend Hall ; and others, which is still
more impossible, to yourself: though the first
Ode has the insolence to place you both in a mean
and a ridiculous light. But this might arise from
a tale equally groundless and malignant, that you
had shewn them to your acquaintance in MS. be
fore they were given to the public. Nor was their
being printed by Dodsley the likeliest means of
discrediting the calumny.
About this time another, under the mask of
friendship, pretended to draw your character;
which was first published in a Female Magazine,
and from thence it was transferred into a Chro
nicle. Pray, have you read it, or do you know its
author ?
But of all these things I dare say Mr. Garrick,
whose prudence is equal to his honesty or his
talents, has remonstrated to you with the freedom
of a friend. He knows the inconstancy of what is
called the public, towards all, even the best inten-
tioned of those who contribute to its pleasure or
amusement. He (as every man of honour and
discretion would) has availed himself of the public
R

242 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
favour to regulate the taste, and, in his proper
station, to reform the manners of the fashionable
world ; while by a well-judged economy he has
provided against the temptation of a mean and
servile dependency on the follies and vices of the
great. In a word, be assured there is no one more sin
cerely wishes your welfare and happiness than.
Reverend Sir, &c. W. G.

REV. LAURENCE STERNE TO BISHOP WARBURTON.
Coxwould, June 19, 1760.
My Lord,
This post brought me the honour of your letter,
for which, and for your kind and most friendly ad
vice, I return your lordship all I am able — my best
thanks. Be assured, my Lord, that willingly and
knowingly I will give no offence to any mortal by
any thing which I think can look Hke the least vi
olation either of decency or good manners, and yet,
with all the caution of a heart void of offence or
intention of giving it, I may find it very hard, in
writing such a book as Tristram Shandy, to mutUate
every thing in it down to the prudish humour of
every particular. I will, however, do my best —
though laugh, my Lord, I will, and as loud as I
can too.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 243
With regard to the Lyrick Odes, all I know of
them is this ; that the first Ode, which places me
and the author in a ridiculous light, was sent to
me in a cover without a name, which, after striking
out some parts, as a whimsical performance, I
showed to some acquaintance ; and as Mr. Garrick
had told me some time before he would write me
an Ode, for a day or two I supposeeJiit came from
him. I found afterwards it was sent me from Mr.
Hall ; for from a nineteen years' total interruption
of all correspondence with him, I had forgot his
hand, which at last, when I recollected, I sent it
back. The second Ode, which abounds with in
decencies, is, I suppose, his too ; as they are pub
lished together, there can be little doubt. He
must answer for them ; having nothing myself to
answer for with regard to them but my extreme
concern, and that a man of such great talents, as
my acquaintance Mr, HaU is, should give the world
so much offence. He has it greatly in his power to
make amends ; and if I have any penetration, and
can depend upon the many assurances he gives
me, your Lordship wiU, I hope, Hve to see it. He
is worth reclaiming, being one of those whom na
ture has enabled to do much hurt or much good.
Of all the vile things wrote against me, the
letter your Lordship mentions in the Female Ma
gazine is the most inimicitious, and gave me, for
that reason, the most concern ; under which I had
no better relief than denying the facts, and cry-
R 2

244 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
ing out against the hardship done me by such a
contexture of lies tacked together, not to serve me
but to overthrow me. Such profligate wretches
too often gain their end. Every mortal in town
says it was wrote by a Dr, Hill, who wrote the
Inspectors, and, they teU me, has the property
and management of that Magazine, Garrick tells
me the same story, and with reasons to confirm it.
These strokes in the dark, with the many kicks,
cuffs, and bastinadoes I openly get on aU sides of
me, are beginning to make me sick of this fooHsh
humour of mine, of sallying forth into this wide
and wicked world to redress wrongs, &c, of which
I shall repent as sorely as ever Sancho Panza did of
his in following his evil genius of a Don Quixote
through thick and thin ; but as the poor fellow
apologised for it, so must I : " it was my ill-fortune
and my errantry, and that 's all that can be said
on 't." Otherwise, I wish from my heart I had
never set pen to paper, but continued hid in the
quiet obscurity in which I had so long lived : I
was quiet, for I was below envy and yet above
want ; and indeed so very far above it, that the idea
of it never once entered my head in writing ; and
as I am now £200 a-year further from the danger
of it than I was then, I think it never will ; for I
declare I have all I wish or want in this world,
being in my calculation of money, all out, as rich
as my friend Garrick, whose goodness of heart and

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 245
honest cowardice in keeping so far out of the way
of temptation, I nevertheless esteem and admire.
The Bishop of Carlisle did me the honour yes
terday of a call ; of whom I had the satisfaction of ,
inquiring after your Lordship's health, and parti
cularly how far the waters had relieved you under
the pain and indigestion you complained of. He
hoped your Lordship was better.
I wish your Lordship all the most grateful man
can wish — happiness in this world and the next.
I am, my Lord,
With all esteem and duty.
Your affectionate servant, Lau. Sterne.

BISHOP WARBURTON TO THE REV. L. STERNE.
P. P. June 26, 1760.
Rev. Sir,
I have the favour of your obhging Letter of the
19th. It gives me real pleasure (and I could not
but trouble you with these two or three lines to
tell you so) that you are resolved to do justice to
your genius, and to borrow no aids to support it,
but what are of the party of honour, virtue, and
religion. You say you will continue to laugh aloud. In
good time. But one who was no more than even

246 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
a man of spirit would choose to laugh in good com
pany ; where priests and virgins may be present
Do not expect your friends to pity you for the
trash and ribaldry scribbled against you ; they will
be apter to congratulate you upon it.
Nothwithstanding all your wishes for your for
mer obscurity, which your present chagrin excites,
yet a wise man cannot but choose the sunshine
before the shade ; indeed he would not wish to
dwell in the malignant heat of the dog-days, not
for the teasing and momentary annoyance of the
numberless tribes of insects abroad at that time,
but for the more fatal aspect of the superior
bodies, I would recommend a maxim to you which Bi
shop Sherlock formerly told me Dr. Bentley re
commended to him, that a man was never writ out
of the reputation he* had once fairly won, but by
himself. I am, &c. W, G.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 247

REV. JONATHAN TOUP TO BISHOP WARBURTON.
[Jonathan Toup was bom at St. Ives in Cornwall in 1713,
and was educated partly at the Grammar School of that town
and partly under a private master at St. Merryn's. He was B. A.
of Exeter Coll. Oxford, but M. A. of Pembroke Hall, Cambridge,
1756. In 1750 he was presented by Bishop Lavington to the
rectory of St. Martin's near Looe ; and, by the recommendation
of Bishop Warburton to Bishop Keppel, was appointed Preben
dary of Exeter 1774, and Vicar of St, Merryn's 1776. He
diedin 1785, aged 71.
He gained the notice of Bishop Warburton by his " Emenda-
tiones in Suidam," published in consecutive parts in 1760, 1764,
1766, Appendix 1775. Amongst other works, he published, in
1767, " Epistola Critica ad virum celeberrimum Gulielmum Episc.
Glocestr." His reputation as a critic was confirmed by his edition of
Longinus, published in 1778. He is generally acknowledged to
have possessed profound learning and critical sagacity, though
sulhed by petulance of expression towards those who differed from
him. — Chalmers's Biog. Dict.^ St. Martin's, 27 June, 1767.
My Lord,
I thank your Lordship for your Sermons, which
I received last week, and particularly for your
Charge, which is a very good one. Your Sermon
on the Fall of Satan is an incomparable one. You
have said more in it than all that have written
against the Doctors Mead and Sykes. I was al
ways prejudiced in favour of the real possession ;
and, T am now glad to find, not without reason.

248 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
In a note to your fourth Sermon you have taken
down Kennicott and his good wife very decently.
I expect very little from these collators of Hebrew
MSS. The idiom of the language is in a great
measure lost ; and it will be in vain to hunt after
words, when we know not what use to make of
them. In your Sermon on the Resurrection you have
given us three cases of miracles ; in the second of
which you place Julian's attempt to rebuild the
Temple. This miracle Lardner, as I am informed,
has endeavoured lately to throw aside. But how
he can set aside the testimony of Marcellinus I
know not.
I hope I shall send your Lordship my Critical
Epistle in a fortnight, in which I have considered
that famous passage of Suetonius in Claudio :
" Liber cui index erat MliPi2N ANASTASIS ;"
which has greatly puzzled the Commentators. I
am, my Lord, with great respect.
Your Lordship's most dutiful
and obedient servant, Jo. Toup.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 249

REV. ARCHIBALD MACLAINE TO THE REV.
DR. WARBURTON.
[Archibald Maclaine was bom in Ireland in 1722, and
educated for the Presbyterian ministry, under Professor Hutche-
son of Glasgow. In 1745 he was appointed Pastor of the Enghsh
Episcopal Church at the Hague, where he continued till forced by
the French Revolution to take refiige in England in 1794. His
latter years were spent in Bath, where he died in 1 804, aged 82.
His chief work is his Translation of Mosheim's Ecclesiastical
History, 6 vols. 8vo. 1756. He wrote besides, a Letter of some
merit to Soame Jenyns, in reply to his Internal Evidence of
Christianity. — Chalmers's Biog. Diet.'] Hague, July 10, 1758.
Reverend Sir,
Mr. Miller communicated to me the letter in
which you were so good as to express your fa
vourable reception of my Literary News, and to
order me a present which is singularly precious,
both on account of the gift and the giver. This,
Sir, furnishes me with a happy opportunity of ex
pressing the high sense I have ever entertained,
since I was capable of thinking with any degree of
soHdity, of the eminent services you have ren
dered to rehgion and letters. I am also proud of
being entitled to say, that Dr. Warburton has ac
quired a right to my gratitude, as well as to my
esteem and veneration, for there are certain per
sons to whom it is an honour to be obhged.

250 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE,
I send you with this letter, by General Yorke's
Courier, Mr, BouUler's book, and you will find in
the volume of the Bihliotheque des Sciences, which
I have inclosed with it, our first extract from that
performance. As I thought proper to wait for
your animadversions upon his examination of your
Hypothesis concerning the Book of Job, I have
only analysed his arguments, and presented them
fairly, without any critical refiections. You will see
in this extract (page 471) an assertion that is not
quite exact : viz. that the greatest part of Bouil-
ler's objections to your Hypothesis had been al
ready made use of by your English adversaries,
and that you had answered them in your Remarks,
&c, against Dr, Grey, This was advanced upon
the fallible report of memory ; but upon reading
over again, after the publication of our Extract,
Dr. Grey's preface, and your Remarks, I found
that Bouiller's objections are different from his,
and are also proposed with more art, though vrith
less modesty. In our second extract of Bouiller's
work, which is now in the press, we have been
obliged to venture some critical reflections, and to
expose some of his mistakes and his airs, with a
wholesome severity. In the mean time. Sir, we
judged it proper to leave you to vindicate your
own cause, from a persuasion that you will do it
in a manner worthy of yourself, and with a degree
of force infinitely superior to what we could exert,
were we ever so warmly attached to your Hypo-

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE, 251
thesis. If, therefore, you judge Mr. Bouiller so
far worthy of your notice, as to honour me with
your remarks upon his objections, and to permit
me to pubhsh them, I shall translate them into
French, and insert them in our journal, to which
I am beforehand convinced they wiU be an orna
ment, because I know your pen can produce no
thing that will not be interesting to the lovers of
learning. You wiU perceive. Sir, in the Nouvelles Litd-
raires of the volume I here send you, that I have
been led to mention you a second time by an igno
rant and virulent Discourse upon the Lord's
Supper, written in answer to one of your Sermons
on that subject. Though I was limited to a short
space, yet I could not stand neuter in this dispute,
both because I am persuaded that your hjrpothesis
is as sohd as it is ingenious ; and also as I ima
gined even my poor remarks sufficient to expose
the weakness of an author unworthy of your
notice. Pardon, Sir, the importunity of this letter in
favour of the motives that engaged me to write it,
and permit me to express once more the high de
gree of esteem and veneration with which I am.
Reverend Sir,
Your most humble and most
obedient servant, A. Maclaine.

252 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
P. S. As I do not choose that it should be pub
licly known that I am concerned in the Bihlio
theque des Sciences, may I beg, Sir, that you will
oblige me by your silence in this matter. We are
tolerably concealed from the public here, and this
enables us in many cases to be impartial without
offence, or rather without feeling the disagreeable
consequences of offending.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 253

EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS FROM BISHOP WAR
BURTON TO THE REVEREND DOCTOR AT
WELL.
[Joseph Atwell was of a family long settled at Exeter, and
was bom about 1695. He was Rector of Exeter College, Oxford ;
Prebendary of York, Gloucester, and Southwell ; Chancellor of
Norwich ; Rector of Oddington, and Vicar of Fairford, Glouces
tershire. He died in 1768, aged 73,
Dr. Atwell appears to have been one of that large class of lite
rary characters who, though distinguished amongst, and respected
by their cotemporaries for various learning, yet, having never de
voted their talents and acquirements to any definite literary objects,
have left scanty materials for biography.
Mr. Badcock, of South Molton, speaks of him as " a man of
curious observation and learning ;" and says, that " every thing
that came from his pen was known to be ofconsiderable value."
His acquaintance with Bishop Warburton seems to have com
menced about 1754 ; from which period to the time of Dr. A.'s
death, a constant and unreserved correspondence appears to have
been kept up between them. From the numerous letters forming
Bishop Warburton's part of this correspondence, the following ex
tracts only have been decided on for publication.
To judge from the style of these letters, Dr. A. appears to have
been in every respect a kindred spirit to Bishop Warburton ; one
to whom he had recourse in all moods and on all occasions —
a fact which will serve in part to explain the cautious reserve
exercised by the Editor with reference to this correspondence 
Editor.] Prior Park, June 21, 1754.
. . . Bohngbroke's large system of Naturalism
will be published in a few days. There wants only

254 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
the Church Zophiel in mid air to warn the heroes
ofthe two Universities :
" Arm, warriors ! arm for fight ! the foe 's at hand.
He comes, and settled in his face I see
Sad resolution and secure. Let each
Fit well his helm, gripe fast his orbed shield,
His adamantine coat gird well." 
But half of them are hunting after old Hebrew
roots, and the other half after more substantial diet.
The polemic bands, so famed of old, lie at present,
like Bays's army at Brentford, somewhere incog
nito. A famous German philosopher lately disco
vered the art of preserving annual insects for a
great number of years, by wrapping them up in
gums and varnish. Who knows but some provi
dent prelate, in his great care for the church, has,
in this long time of peace, been laying up these
useless gentlemen in pickle, to be brought out
fresh against some great day of action. The day
is now approaching : and I fancy if one could be -
admitted to their retreat, where I suppose they
may lie piled up in order, like billets in a wood-
hole, we should see them, though yet in their
aurelia state, begin to wag their tails, and discover
signs of their returning vigour. But if this be
only my fancy, and we have none of those bodies
in reserve, we are in a very bad way, unless the
country militia prove better than they used to be.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 255

Prior Park, Feb. 6, 1754.
Bohngbroke's Works, in 5 vols. 4to. will cer
tainly be pubHshed in a few days. They have
given me a sight of them beforehand, but it is *to
be a secret. His rage at religion is astonishing,
as weU as at the defenders of it, " Abbadie was
mad ; so was the President Forbes. Cudworth's
notion of eternal and immutable morality, a rhap
sody of jargon. Clarke triumphs in a foolish and
wicked rhodomontade. Selden, Grotius, Cumber
land, and Puffendorf seem to be great writers on
the principles of natural law by much the same
right as he might be called a great traveUer who
should go from London to Paris by the Cape of
Good Hope. The whole body of divines absurd
in their reasonings, guUty of a deal of blasphemy ;
— in confederacy with atheists ; — quote Moses as
solemnly as Don Quixote did Archbishop Turpin,
and are as mad as he : — guUty of fraud and im
posture when they endeavour to prove the divinity
of Scripture ; — their preaching up the obligation
to imitate God, false and profane ; — impudently and
wickedly assume that there is a law of right rea
son common to God and man ; — trifling, solemn
dogmatists in criticism and theology, who have
advanced so many absurd and impious, really im
pious paradoxes ; — the Jewish people in a delirium
when they thought themselves the people of God ;
— their history as fictitious as Amadis of Gaul. It

256 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
is impossible to read what Moses has writ on the
creation, without feeling contempt for him as a
philosopher, and horror as a divine. — If we believe
in Moses' God, we cannot believe that God which
reason shews us : the whole system of the Law of
Moses was founded in murder. — St. Paul a fanatic,
who, by artificial theology, would explain the ob
scure and imperfect revelation of Christ, and sup
ply the deficiencies of it."
This is a small sample of his flowers in his own
words. His ravings put me in mind of those lines
of Donne —
" Old Dante, dreaming o'er the infernal state.
Ne'er saw such scenes of rancour, rage, and hate."
But his arguments are as soft as his words are
hard : and where he does not steal his objections
from Collins, Tindal, Morgan, Toland, &c. which,
indeed, is almost every where, his own are the
poorest that ever came from an unbeliever's pen.
Of this enormous heap of rage, insolence, and im
piety, there are two volumes and a half, in large
quarto, almost all of them addressed to Mr. Pope ;
one half of which he never saw, and the other half
has been new modelled since his death.
In the Preface to one or other of my volumes of
the Divine Legation, I believe I shall have oppor
tunity to examine the principles of almost every
point of importance. I shall begin with him very
soon.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 257

Prior Park, Jan. 8, 1755.
I have your kind Letter of the Sth past yet to
acknowledge. The only question between you and
me (if there be any question) is, whether a mar
riage celebrated contrary to the laws of the civil
magistrate be that indissoluable union instituted
by God, and explained by Christ. I hold it is not,
but dissolvable like an unlawful oath ; though the
parties making it, become criminal, and are under
obligations to repair, as they can, the injuries done
to one another,
Hume has wrote a History of James and
Charles I. It seems to be intended as an apology
for the House of Stewart, and no unartful one.
He is an atheistical Jacobite, a monster as rare
with us as a hippogriff. He does not want judg
ment in the selection of his facts, nor ease nor
sprightliness in telhng them ; but without one new
discovery, and not one old embarrassment cleared
up. He seems to have studied the quarrel, but is
not much versed in particulars. In a word, he is
often sensible, generaUy specious, and almost
always superficial.

Prior Park, Dec. 9, 1755.
.... What a sad calamity has befaUen Lisbon !
Time was, when the imaginary displeasures of
s

258 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
Heaven in a comet or an eclipse have disarmed
warring nations when their swords were already
lifted up for mutual slaughter. But I do not hear
that these marks of divine displeasure on a sinful
people are likely to abate our and our neighbours'
animosities against one another. It is indeed a
dreadful thing to suppose these disasters the ven
geance of our offended Master ; but it is ten times
more terrible to believe we have our precarious
being in a forlorn and fatherless world. In the
first case, we have it in our power to avert our de
struction by the amendment of our manners ; in
the latter, we are exposed without hopes of refuge
to the free rage of matters and motion in a fer
ment.

Prior Park, Sept. 4, 1755,
.... It is not a month since I had the pleasure
of hearing from you ; but a month in these stirring
times makes strange changes. Within this period
we have been rejoicing for the capture of French
ships of war, and lamenting for the fate of Brad-
dock. I always suffer in these desolations that
ravage the fiourishing works of God, as the poet
calls them, whoever is the object of this madness,
whether my countrymen or their enemies ; who,
in the language of another poet, thus load Death's
quiver with a crime. I may not speak very in
telligibly while I speak in the language of poetry ;

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 259
but, in plain English, I look upon war as the
blackest mischief ever breathed from Hell upon
the fair face of the creation. But the system, it
seems, is changed ; and it is the balance of Ame
rica we are to fight for. In good time. While the
quarrel was in Europe it was for religion ; in
America it is professed to be for trade. I like this
plain dealing. We know now what we are about.
It is not now for the surplice or the cloak, — a very
trifling quarrel ; but for deer-skins and beaver-
skins, in which we are told our aU is at stake. So
that the Church, wliich always made one in
bustling times, is likely to make but a shght figure
in this quarrel, especially if it be kept in America.
I do not know what the Government will want of us,
except our missionaries, which I apprehend will
not much thin the sacred militia ; nor, by that they
have done hitherto, much advance the public
cause. Have you read Dr. Rawlinson's will? While
the Society of Antiquaries was in his favour, he
left it £5 a-year, on condition not to increase the
number of their members ; afterwards they feU
into disgrace, he then revoked everything he had
given them, establishes professors at Oxford, but
directs they shaU not be members of the Society
of Antiquaries. In short, a strange uncharitable
spirit runs through all his donations against this poor
society ; which £5 a-year, it seems, could induce
to make no more members. I think it uncharitable
s 2

260 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
in every sense, as the Society is an hospital for
blockheads, and the objects so numerous. But
this great man was at perpetual war with book
worms, both Hteral and metaphysical. It was his
family disease to be fond of books, which he valued,
you see by his will, not as they were good, but as
they were MSS. or printed on silk and vellum ;
which, to secure from the enemy, it was his cus
tom to cover and intrench in Russia leather.
This humour went so far at last, that, well knowing
worms would not fail to attack him as well as his
books, he orders himself, too, to be finally bound
up in Russia leather 

Prior Park, Dec. 28, 1755.
.... Pray have you seen Mr, Jortin's last book,
entitled Six Dissertations ? The last of which I
did not weU understand the drift of (neither would
you), till I saw a pamphlet, entitled, A Seventh
Dissertation, addressed to him. It was sent hither
by the post ; and that was the first notice I had of
it. Nor do I know from what quarter it comes,
further than from the quarter of my friends in
general, having no data to guess at the author. I
am very sincere with you in this. However, was
I not so much concerned in it, I would recommend
it to your reading ; and was I not so greatly pre
judiced in favour of it, I would say it is a very fine

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 261
and delicate piece of raillery. It has opened my
eyes as to the person to whom it is addressed. But
who is it that does not now and then meet with
such friends. It has only this effect on me, to
know better how to value those who are friends
deserving of the name.

Prior Park, Feb. 27, 1761.
Dear Sir,
I have your obhging favour of the 24th. As my
Letter which you refer to was so long a-coming, I
conclude from that, as weU as from your manner in
speaking of Northleach, that one I wrote since was
not then come to hand. It was to beg the favour
of you to give me some certain intelligence of the
real value of Northleach, which would be of high
importance to me, as I shall always think the justly
regulating the speedy discharge of my obhgations
to my friends wUl be : so that nothing can be
kinder than the getting me this intelhgence 
I confess to you, that it sometimes happens,
that those to whom we are indebted are not
always very delicate in their expectations of what
is to be returned to them ; nor do they always
balance the difference between the magnificent
patronage of large Sees, and the pitiful droppings
of smaU ones ; yet shall I always think that my
debts to my benefactors are to be discharged

262 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
before I think of any provision for my own
family.

Prior Park, April 23, 1761.
Your Vinerian Professor's* offered fortune is
the most extraordinary story. I have entertained
a mean opinion of his parts and abilities from
that which got him a reputation, — his Intro
ductory Lecture, which he printed. Lord Mans
field was commending it much. I said (what is
true) that there is nothing curious in it but what
he took from Selden's Dissertation on Fleta, Take
my word for it, the old leaven will continue in
that place -|- tiU Whiggism not only regains its
power but its principles, which if first lost before
it lost its power, and which till it regains, it wiU
deserve no power.

Prior Park, Mar. 14, 1761.
You would be very happy in Mr. Hurd, whose
genius and learning, though of the first rate, is
his least praise. The clearness of his virtue, and
the gentleness of his manners make him the idol
of his friends.
Have you seen the Dean of Bristol's, the quon
dam Clerk of the Closet's sermon at St.Margaret's ?
* Sir Wm. Blackstone. -j- Oxford.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 263
He has fairly canonized our gracious Sovereign by
the name of George the Good : but what might be
whispered in the royal closet, sounds but Ul from
the sacred chair.
It is not so at Oxford ; they, like the ancient
Pagans, are for deifying only their dead kings.
One Home, of Magdalen, has preached at St.
Mary's the last 30th of January sermon, in which
he defends the old parallel in favour of Charles the
First. This Horn- work, raised against aU attacks
upon that sacred character, may truly be called a
Bull-work. He tells his audience I am worse
than his murderers, for saying " he risked his
Crown with great complaisancy of conscience in
support of Episcopacy." But what then? The
authors of the Revolution are worse still ; for he
calls the doctrine of resistance to Government a
diabolic doctrine. And if ever there was resistance
to Government, it was when a few people called
over the Prince of Orange to turn out King and
Parliament, and the army on Hounslow heath.
But the surprising part of the affair is, that
Brown, the Vice-Chancellor, should give his im
primatur to all this insult on the present Consti
tution.

When  went last to Ireland, he con
trived, in order to secure himself a safe and
easy passage, that the vane on the top of his

264 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
house should be tied down to the east point. Do
not think I tell you a flam ; it is a literal truth.
It was I suppose a family charm : he might have
learned it of his ancestors, those Laplanders
whom King Sweno transplanted into the North of
Ireland, to civilize the savage inhabitants. While
this was carrying on between him and his
weathercock. Sir John Dolben was just got out
of a tedious illness, and wanted exercise to re
establish his health. But as he was to wait for
mild weather, he would need be carried out
every day into his garden to see how the wind
stood. Unluckily no weathercock was in sight
from thence, but  's ; and that stiU pointed
east. The young ladies, his daughters, would by no
means commit him to his exercise during that
inclement quarter; so he was contented to wait
for a change. But the vane, as well it might,
continuing steady to its trust, and the weather
growing warra, the old Knight lost aU patience ;
and complaining to a friend of this discordancy
between wind and weather; I'll be hanged (said
the other) if  has not been playing tricks
with his weathercock ; for I remember being
with him the morning he went away ; when a
workman came down stairs, and assured the
doctor he had "made all safe." This set them
upon inquiry ; and the speU the blockhead had
clapt upon the vane, became the jest and enter
tainment of the place.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE, 265
Prior Park, April 25, 1763,
Dear Sir,
When I first mentioned an address to the Dean,
I took it for granted that it would not only be
proper, but not singular, I had two reasons not
to be backward, the present scandalous ferment
in the county of Gloucester, and my wiUingness
to shew that they were not words of course in
the advertisement which has given so much
offence to some, where I said, my services were
bound to the King my master.
You see the Bishop of Bristol's sentiment on
the matter. But he does not say that the King
on this occasion disapproves of the addresses of
the clergy, but that he did so on the birth of the
Prince. However I told the Dean, I did not
care to shew a courtly officiousness. You judge
right of me, that, did I know the thing would be
acceptable, I should not value the singularity of
it, or the censures of my brethren. But such
an inquiry of my friends above as you recommend,
would have the air of that officiousness, which I
would avoid. So I must even refer it back to
you and the Dean's further thoughts, to whom I
desire you would communicate this. If one
reputable Bishop should lead the way, I should
have no further hesitation,
I think Mr, Berkeley is crueUy used, both by
his friend and his enemies, I lament and pity
the present temper of the county of Gloucester,

266 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE,
and should be sorry to be involved in the censure
it so much deserves,
I thank you for your kind inquiries about my
arm. The surgeon's over care, and my lying in
bed too long, with my hand motionless, has
deprived me of the use of my wrist. I have
applied many things of the same intention with
a bullock's paunch. It is a little better, though
but a little. If it does not mend faster very soon,
I shall apply to what the physical people here
esteem their sovereign remedy, the Bath-pump,
My wife is now in London, gone to consult
Dr. Heberden and Dr. Leatherland, after finding
no rehef from the physicians here. If there be
any aid in the profession, she will have it, for I
believe Leatherland to be one of the greatest
physicians in the world. They will determine
her at least concerning her Spa expedition. AU
here are much yours, and none any where more
than, my dear Sir, your most affectionate
And faithful humble servant,
W. Gloucester.

Prior Park, Sept. 12, 1763.
My dear Sir,
I have your obliging letter of the 9th.
I have been a little tour with Mr. Hurd to
Winchester, to Lord Henley's at the Grange,
(where, by the way, I forgot to thank him for
young Rogers, but this is the common infirmity

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 267
of the world,) and to Weymouth; at which last
place I staid but a week, and dared not venture
to bathe on account of a dizziness, which dis
order the ladies, when afflicted with it, more
properly call a giddiness. How much have I
envied those scuUs of proof which neither a beam
nor a backsword can disorder ; while that paltry
half-nonentity, the animal spirits, make a turmoil
within mine. But as for my hand and wrist, I
thank God, a quarter of a year's pumping has
restored aU of it but nay thumb and fore-finger,
to their wonted use.
If this contribution to the charity of the three
choirs comes upon me only when it is held with
us, pray tell Mr. PhiUips he may do as my pre
decessors have done ; otherwise these charitable
contributions (unknown to my predecessors,) are
now grown so numerous and heavy, that they
are difficult to be sustained ; and what is the
worst circumstance of all, they are without merit ;
for though, in a philosophic sense, they may be
what they are called voluntary contributions, as
they are not demanded with a pistol at your
throat, yet in a religious sense they are given
grudgingly and of necessity 
As to the affair of the Bath address, I will only
say, that, whatever Mr. Allen does, he wiU always
have the right and the disposition to say, with
my true friend Pope,
" Welcome for thee, fair Virtue,'' &c.
You will take Mr. Allen's word that I had no

268 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
more hand in the address than you had ; but
so will not the miserable party-scribblers. I am
sure nobody will take theirs, but when they abuse
one another. I have been the subject of abuse
on both sides. But I am (not grown, but made
by nature and confirmed by innocence) callous :
and amidst a long course of infinite abuse from
secret and open enemies, for well-intended
services in my profession, (in which not one in
jurious fact ever laid to my charge was true, nor
one bad argument ever imputed to me has been
proved,) I thank God, I never lost a night's sleep.
If Mr. AUen cannot say this of his callosity, as
he can of his innocence, why, then, in this thing
alone I am his superior. In a letter I lately
received from the Attorney, he tells me " in aU
my reading, I have never met with any thing to
parallel with the present times." I said that,
except the insults on a good King, and the un
limited rage of libels and slanders, which are
indeed unparalleled, I thought the same wicked
order of things was preserved that had been set
a-going ever since the world began : the same
boundless ambition, the same low avarice and
corruption, and the same black spirit of revenge,
in the great ; and the same madness in persist
ing for ever to be the dupes of faction and party,
in the people 
Dear Sir, your most affectionate,
and faithful humble servant,
W. Gloucester.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 269

Prior Park, Nov. 26, 1767.
Dear Sir,
After so long a silence and uncertainty of your
abode, I was extremely glad to hear of your health
and return.
You judge perfectly right of Holwell's book ; it is
the most ignorant and most impertinent thing I ever
saw. But such things are always to be expected
of illiterate men, who, if honest, lose all the nerves
of the mind, as Tully caUs them, (doubt and sus
pension of opinion,) the further they travel : if
knaves, lie in proportion to the length of their
voyage, catching the infection from the Eastern
nations of this vice, who have it as rooted in their
constitutions as the Welch and Irish have the itch.
It is certain that not one nation of the East,
from Persia to China, have a written book or Bible
of their rehgion (and yet they all pretend to one
of the highest antiquity) ; at least, older than the
rise of Mahometanism. That ofthe Persians, par
ticularly, (rendered the most famous amongst us
in the West by the foolishest and weakest book
ever written — that of Hyde,) was a late forgery,
written in the first ages of the Saracen empire.
You wiU ask why I say so ? To omit the entire
silence of the Greek writers concerning this book,
who, in the flourishing times and in the decline
of the^Constantinopolitan empire, were as well
acquainted with Persia as we are with France or

270 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
Germany ; to omit, I say, this negative proof, as
convincing as it is, I have the best positive author
ity for the fact, the venerable authority of Mahomet
himself, and his first commentators, who, dividing
the religions he was acquainted with into those
which were religions of the book, (i. e. such as had
a Bible,) and those which were not ofthe book, they
reckon Judaism, Christianity, and Mahometanism
in the first class, and the Persian religion in the
second. Now Mahomet was as well acquainted
with Persia, both before and after he set up
for a prophet, as he was with the country of the
Lesser Asia, both of which he had subdued. The
Persians were a great deal more tenacious of their
old false religion than the Asiatic Christians were
of the true, agreeably to the weakness and perver
sity of our nature ; they were, therefore, to support
their cause the best they could against their con
querors ; and as the best support, in matters of
opinion, is being in the fashion ; and (as) it was
the established fashion amongst their neighbours
of Lesser Asia and Arabia to have a Bible ; and
the Alcoran then blazing out in all its splendour,
being the military standard, as it were, of their
conquerors ; they would have a Bible too, and so
opposed, with additional strength, a double im
posture to a single one. For though Mahomet
was certainly the author of the Alcoran, yet Zoro
aster was certainly not the author of the Bible
which goes under his name.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 271
You wUl acknowledge that zeal in general for a
persecuted religion, and therefore the more obsti
nately adhered to, was sufficient to dispose the
lying Eastern nations to forge what they thought
would tend to strengthen and support their faith.
What properer for this purpose than a Bible which
pretends to high antiquity ?
But there was more in the matter than this.
Mahomet accused all the Eastern religions, parti
cularly the Persian, of idolatry ; and very justly.
Christianity, and the new rise of Mahometanism,
had, about this time, sufficiently discredited idol
atry amongst the Eastern people ; so that those
who adhered to the rehgion of their forefathers in
Persia and proper India, had nothing to do but to
forge Bibles to remove this opprobrium from their
national rehgious. They did so ; and never were
more bunghng impostures than those defended, or
rather whose truth is taken for granted, by the
learned Hyde and the iUiterate HolweU ; for, with
regard to what Hyde has produced from the pre
tended works of Zoroaster, I have carefully
examined them, and they perpetually betray
themselves by letting sHp ideas with which the
writer could be only furnished from the Bible
and the Alcoran. Whenever these come to be
considered, I believe there will be few (except
such as Lowth, who could see no aUusion in
the Book of Job to the later times of the Jewish

272 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
republic,) who will not acknowledge the original
of those ideas 
I am, my dear Sir,
Your very affectionate and faithful
humble servant, W. Gloucester.

BISHOP warburton TO

Sir,
Amidst a general want of religious principle, as
weU as profligacy of manners, every step of the
Legislature in which religion is supposed to be
affected, alarms the people just as much as if,
indeed, they had any real regard for it ; which
looks as if they thought they had the only right to
treat it with contempt. The Jew BiU of late oc
casioned violent commotions ; nor does the Sun
day's exercise of the mihtia now threaten less.
You, who are no less vigilant and jealous of our
religious than of our civil rights, will be ready to
attend to any one, how obscure soever, whom you
find ready to treat this subject in a candid and dis
passionate manner. You are far from treating the
scruples of religion as absurdities, because they are
erroneous, or the dread of God's punishment for
national crimes as a superstition, because men are
apt to mistake his judgments ; who, in a word, re
gard the rights of conscience amongst the most

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 273
sacred of those which civil society was ordained to
secure. To understand how well founded these alarms
are on the present occasion, it will be necessary to
consider the nature of the Sabbatical institution
from whence the sanctity of the Lord's da}^ is
supposed to be derived.
The question is (which has been long agitated
and tediously debated), whether the observation
of the Sabbath was a natural or positive duty?
If Scripture, by a prophet, and under the dictate of
inspiration, has expressly decided this question,
neither any consequential reasoning from the strict
observance under the Jewish economy, nor any
refined metaphysical reasoning a priori, are of any
force to be opposed unto it.
Now the prophet Ezekiel, speaking to his
countrymen in the name of God, says, " Moreover
also I gave them my sabbath, to be a sign between
me and them." * Now, a rehgious duty employed
for a sign, or what is called in another place a
token of a covenant, between God and a particular
selected people, must needs be a positive, and not
a natural observance ; for, besides the use of such
a sign for the remembrance of the covenant, it was
to serve as a partition-wall to separate the Jews
from other nations, which a positive rite was able
to do, though used before or after, and borrowed
* C. XX. 12.

274 general correspondence.
frora or by other people ; but it was impossible that
a moral duty implanted in the minds of all men
should serve for this purpose. Indeed, when a
sign or token was employed only for the remem
brance of a covenant, and nothing more, a moral
duty or a natural phenomenon might be employed
for that use, as in the case of the rainbow after the
flood. It is strange to think that so obvious and de
cisive an argument for the Sabbath's being a posi
tive law should have been so long overlooked, or
so little understood, as to make it still problema
tical in the declaration of those who seem least
inclined to regard the Lord's day as a day of sab
batical rest.
But, I suppose, the reason given in the Tables
of Stone for God's blessing or haUowing the seventh
day, namely, because on that day God rested from
his work of creation, hath made men conclude it
to be a natural duty ; whereas this revelation of
God's sanctifying the seventh day was plainly to
impress the Israelites with a greater reverence of
the sabbatic rest. But this is not all : the very
act of sanctification implies a positive duty, in
which act nothing is either seen or declared of a
necessary or natural connexion between God's rest
and man's.
Had the Sabbatarian interpretation of this sanc
tification of the seventh day been the true, it must
have followed it must have been observed by the

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. 276
people of God from the creation to the giving of
the Law. And so, indeed, the Sabbatarians say it
was; but they say it gratuitously, and, what is
worse, falsely. I say first gratuitously — the entire
sUence contrary to that other ordinance of Moses,
Circumcision. Secondly, falsely ; for sacred Scrip
ture, ever consistent with itself, says the direct
contrary ; and the Word of God, by the Prophet
Ezekiel, is confirmed by the words of Jesus, as they
came from his own mouth. The Jews having
charged Jesus as a transgressor of the Law of
Moses for having cured a man on the Sabbath
day, he thus expostulates with his accusers : —
" Moses gave unto you Circumcision, not because
it is of Moses, but of the Fathers ; and ye on the
Sabbath day circumcise a man. If a man on the
Sabbath day receive Circumcision that the Law of
Moses should not be broken, are ye angry with
me because I have made a man every whit whole
on the Sabbath day ? " &c.* (p. 308, vol. u. D. L.)
This being the sense of this important parenthesis,
" not because it is of Moses, but of the Fathers,"
the reasoning impHes that the sabbatic rest was
given by Moses originally, and not like Circum
cision, " because it was of the Fathers," before his
institution ; because, according to this reasoning of
Jesus, had the sabbatic rest been an observance of
the Fathers at the time Circumcision on the eighth
* John, vii. 22, &c.
T 2

276 GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.
day was enjoined to Abraham and his race, it
would have been conditionally that the eighth day
did not fall on the Sabbath.
All this appears to be the sense of the primitive
Church, who changed this solemn day of religious
service from the seventh to the first daj^,* 
* The MS. is here unfortunately deficient.

277

BISHOP WARBURTON S SPEECH IN THE HOUSE
OF LORDS ON THE PROSECUTION OF MR,
WILKES.* My Lords,
Being made a party to this prosecution, tiU
your lordships had come to some determination, I
thought it most decent to keep silent.
But now, the duty I owe to this House, and
the reverence every honest man owes to his own
character, whose just boast it is, nulld pallescere
culpd, force me to beg your lordships' indulgence
for a few moments.
It is with great concern apprehended, I say,
that some noble lords, distinguished for their ho
nour and virtue both in public and private life,
have appeared not unwiUing, as opportunity
offered, to soften the edge of justice on this occa
sion. Their arguments I shall leave with all their
weight ; their motives, I am sure, did not want the
due share of generosity and honour. But I appre
hend there may be a prejudice which wiU deserve
to be examined. It is founded, I suppose, in a
certain suspicion that the pure love of virtue and
religion, unmixed with the intrigues and resent
ments of ministers of state, did not set this prose
cution on foot.
Now, not to insist on so uncandid a suspicion^
* See page 226.

278 SPEECH ON THE PROSECUTION
where the crime is so very enormous, let us for a
moment suppose that the prosecution was not quite
free from the mixture objected to it ; I would beg
leave to ask those noble lords (so well acquainted
with the history of ancient and modern times)
whether they have ever found, throughout the
whole story of mankind, any great and general
good obtained, or any enormous evil suppressed,
where human passions did not mix themselves
with the work of that reformer.
Was the Great Charter obtained and secured
by disinterested patriots, out of pure love to the
people's liberties? Your lordships best know
that it was wrested from the Crown by a factious,
turbulent, and ambitious Baronage, into whose
hearts the love of the people never entered, in
order to share the sovereign power with their
master. Was the avarice, the usurpation, and the super
stition of the Church of Rome overturned on that
virtuous principle, the vindication of the rights of
mankind ? Do we not all know that that dreadful
enchantment, which had for so many ages bound
up the intellects of a whole people, was broken and
dissolved by the rapine, the pride, and the luxu
rious passions of a single man ?
To descend from generals to particulars. These
latter times have seen, on different occasions, the
highest magistrates of justice exemplarily ar
raigned and punished for gross corruption in the

OF MR. WILKES. 279
execution of their office : but who is so ignorant
as not to know that those salutary prosecutions
owed their birth to the displeasure and resent
ments of favourites and ministers of state ?
Alas ! were we to stay for reformation till pure
virtue set reformers on work, we must wait for the
return of that Platonic vision, when virtue is to
appear, in all her blaze of charms, in person.
Surely, it is enough for us that, in the present
case, virtue's most august, most spotless represen
tative, has directed this offender to be brought to
justice. If the prosecution has not escaped censure, the
prosecutor, we may be sure, would be less covertly
attacked, A noble lord, when this affair was last
in agitation, told a story, and seemed to recom
mend it as worthy to have been followed in the
present case. As his lordship was pleased to re
present it, it was this. A tract of Servetus feU into
the hands of Dr. Gibson, Bishop of London, and
he chose rather to suppress than to prosecute it.
Let us examine, then, the pretended likeness in
the two eases.
1 . Servetus had been dead near 200 years : so
here was no offender to be found. And this is all
the Hkeness under the first head.
2. Again : Servetus had, unhappily, entertained
some theologie tenets which the Church justly
terms heresy : and for these he was most cruelly
and iniquitously burnt at Geneva. But Servetus

280 SPEECH ON THE PROSECUTION
was serious, was virtuous, was a scholar : Mr.
Wilkes, you all know, to be a buffoon without wit,
and a debauchee without delicacy, and a fine gen
tleman (as I think they call them) without letters.
His performances were suitable to his character
and talents. They consisted of the most horrid
insults on religion, virtue and humanity, and the
most shocking blasphemies against the Almighty ;
which would have subjected him to the faggot,
not only in the little state of Geneva, but in every
country on the globe (where a God and Providence
is confessed) from Calais to Japan. And this is
all the likeness under the second head,
3, Again : none of the followers of Servetus had
the insolence to put Dr. Gibson's name to a num
ber of notes supporting their master's impieties :
but Mr, Wilkes has taken the liberty to put Dr,
Warburton's name to a series of notes, which coun
tenance and even outdo the beastiality and blas
phemy of his doggrel. And this is all the simili
tude I can find under the third.
On the whole, then, I suppose your lordships
will be ready to agree with me, that in the case of
Servetus the Bishop of Gloucester would have done
as the Bishop of London did ; and that in the case
of Mr. Wilkes the Bishop of London would have
acted as the Bishop of Gloucester has done.
To conclude : I have, my lords, given my name
to this prosecution out of a pure sense of my duty
to God and the king. In this my private resent-

OF MR, WILKES. 281
ments had no share; Yet for this I have been fur
ther calumniated and outraged in the most villan
ous and diabolic manner.
As to enemies of a better rank (if this prosecu
tion has raised up any such against me), virtue
whispers me — tu contra audentior ito ; and as to
the natural movements to revenge and vengeance
for the calumnies and villanies of cut-throat libel
lers, I offer them all up at the sacred shrine of
religion.

spoken in the house nov. 15, 1763.
My Lords,
I beg your lordships' indulgence for a few
words : the noble lord who has just ended has
not left room for many. And this liberty I shall
rarely ask, but when it would be a shame and a dis
honour to keep silent.
My lords, the life and health which Providence
has been graciously pleased to bestow upon me,
have been all employed (and I hope neither un-
fruitfuUy nor ingloriously) in the service of reli
gion. In defending Revelation, and the established
church of this land, against the rude attacks of
ribald writers of all denominations, atheists, deists,
libertines, freethinkers, bigots, and fanatics ; and
what is the accumulation of all that is execrable in
one — political scribblers of all sides and parties™

282 SPEECH ON THE PROSECUTION
the trumpeters, the incendiaries of sedition and
confusion. These services, my lords, have brought down
upon me a fierce and dirty torrent of abuse and
slander from all quarters. In which, however,
not one opprobrious fact ever imputed to my life
(if any such have been imputed) was true ; nor
one fallacious argument ever imputed to my
writings has been proved : so that my usual re
venge was silence and contempt.
This is the first time, my lords, that I ever applied
to public justice for assistance ; not for myself or
my writings, for while I have the hydra infidelity
at my feet, I can weU bear with its hisses ; nor yet
for this reverend bench, though I know how se
verely they feel for every insult offered to religion :
no, my lords, it is for religion itself — for civil
society ; yea, even for our common humanity ; aU
most audaciously insulted by this man.
And how insulted ? With the arms of a gen
tleman and a scholar — with wit or with argument ?
— for these have been too often abused and misap
plied in support of irreligion and impiety. No, my
lords, nor with the arms even of a man, or of one
who appears to bear any relation to the human
species ; but with such arms as the demons of lust
and blasphemy might be supposed to use when let
loose to blot the fair face of day and nature.
But I injure these elder sons of perdition by my

OF MR. WILKES. 283
comparison ; for let the most poetical imagination
set himself on work to conceive how
" Devils with devils damn'd hold converse,"
and when he had put his fancy on the rack, he
would StiU find himself infinitely short of the hor
rors of these portentous parodies ; which, if suf
fered to go unpunished, not an hundred acts of
national humihation would be sufficient to expiate
and atone ; in which there is so foul a mixture of
bestiality interlarding his fearful blasphemies, that
the hardiest inhabitant of heU would blush as weU
as tremble to hear repeated.

PART IV.

I. Fragments of a Discourse on History, illus
trated PROM Lord Clarendon's History of the
Rebellion.
II. Thoughts on various subjects :
1. Theological.
2. Critical and Miscellaneous.

FRAGMENTS OF A DISCOURSE ON HISTORY,
illustrated from that of lord clarendon.

I design this discourse for a short Essay upon
History, and shall iUustrate the common rules of
it by examples drawn from the Lord Clarendon's
incomparable History of the Rebellion, which will
help to explain very many of the rules, expose the
falseness of others, and give me the opportunity of
attempting, the first, a Critique of that wonderful
performance. The Histories of Greece and Rome
have been the common theme of almost aU writers,
whUe this of our own, superior to the best of
theirs (as I doubt not to make appear), has been
only admired in the gross, without any particular
examination. The three great requisites in an historian are :
1 . A perfect knowledge of the facts he represents ;
2. Honesty in representing them truly ; and, 3,
Abilities to represent them advantageously. We
shaU consider this noble writer in these three views,
and shew how greatly he excelled in each.
Few things in the EngHsh tongue before this
last age, were worthy any criticism. But it can
now boast of productions equal to Greece or Rome ;
and why they do not deserve the same notice, I see

288 FRAGMENTS OF A
no reason, A great genius lately deceased led the
way, of whom it may be truly said,
— ¦ — quem tu, Dea, tempore in omni

Omnibus, &c.
As it would be the highest presumption to attempt
to equal him, so it would be the greatest folly not
to endeavour to imitate him.
The order of time in an history may be weU
transgressed, nay, ought to be so, to preserve the
narrations entire. A remarkable instance of this
conduct is in Tacitus' History, where he defers to
speak of the German tumults, which happened to
be hot during the Civil Wars of Otho, Vitellius,
and Vespasian ; till he had dispatched the Civil
Wars, and then treats of them without interruption
through the greater part of the fourth Book.
An historian who writes of past ages ought not
implicitly to sit down with the reasons former
writers give for things, but examine them, and
prove their truth or falsehood. An instance of
this in Tacitus. He tells us the generality of
writers that went before him ascribed Tiberius's
departure from the city to the wiles of Sejanus.
Now this accurate writer doubts this ; for this very
good reason, because he staid there after his death.
— Now this distinguishes an historian from a mere
compiler. When  * brought in the Bill against
* Sic in MS.

DISCOURSE ON HISTORY. 289
Episcopacy, the historian telling you he did it
chiefly for the sake of applying that verse of Ovid.*
*****
lets you into his character as weU as a whole page
could have done on that subject.
The character of a finished courtier is touched
with the utmost art in this part of E. H. " He
took all the ways he could to endear himself to the
Duke (the reigning favourite) and to his confidence,
and wisely declined the receiving any grace or
favour, but as his donation," &c.
What strength, what boldness of colouring is
there in this portraiture of L. C. : " His cardinal
perfection was industry, and his most eminent
infirmity covetousness,"
The beauties of great characters of the ancients
Consist chiefly in the agreeable surprise of the
turn : 'tis antithesis and contrast. Many of Cla
rendon's are more natural and consequently more
successful, as they let us better into his character :
'tis some peculiarity of humour, &c. The same
reason that furnishes our state with such variety
of characters above any other nation, makes our
historian superior to any other in this article.
C. by telling us the Earl of Arundel affected
? Sic in MS. U

290 FRAGMENTS OF A
to wear the habit of heroes and great men amongst
the ancients, gives us the best idea possible of
that great man's romantic temper.
It certainly requires the deepest penetration into
human nature to characterise justly. Our author
had that knowledge almost above the rest of man
kind, and has therefore excelled all mankind in
this particular.
I cannot agree with Rapin, that a man's actions
give us his best character. Besides, men very often
act so inconsistently with themselves, that a reader
is often at a loss to know, which part of his beha
viour is the result of his natural temper, and which
of some particular view he has at that time to
serve, — which action is out of choice, and which
of necessity. But his character is a better index
to his behaviour than his face is to his mind : it
conducts us clearly through all the windings and
turnings of a restless ambition, irregular caprice,
and designing politics. Besides this, it raises and
enlivens history ; it softens the dryness of the re
lation, and smoothes the severity of reflections,
and introduces a digression with the best grace
imaginable. It is necessary they should be short
and expressive, that the reader may take the whole
resemblance at a view ; but if they be drawn to a
great length they are weakened, and the reader
rather confounded than informed.

DISCOURSE ON HISTORY. 291
Speaking of the Lord Digby, he says, the temper
and composition of his mind was so admirable, that
he was always more pleased and delighted that he
had advanced so far, which he imputed to his own
virtue and conduct, than broken or dejected that
his success was not answerable, which he still
charged upon second causes, for which he thought
himself not accountable.
Character of the King's horse in the West,
whom only their friends feared and their enemies
laughed at, being only terrible in plunder, and
resolute in running away.
An historian ought certainly to be free from all
partiality, and he must be in the exact temper of
mind that SaUust in Csesar's speech recommends
to a councillor of state ; but he certainly is not
obliged, as Rapin imagines, to stand neuter between
two contending parties ; that is an extreme as
pernicious, perhaps, as the opposite. It is the
duty of an historian to stigmatize ill actions, and
commend the good ; as well to do justice to both
as to direct and inform the judgment of his reader.
To the person of Lord Clarendon : — In the
beginning of the Long Parliament, out of his
sense of the many extravagant acts of power in
the Crown, he appeared a resolute patriot, by
u 2

292 FRAGMENTS OF A
espousing the liberties of his country; was one
that brought in the impeachment of the Judges,
and was a manager against the High Commission
Court at York. Yet when the E. of S. was prose
cuted, he, out of a just sense of the injustice prac
tised against that noble lord, was a strenuous
advocate for him, to his eternal honour dissented
from his fast friend the L. F. in the business of
the Bishops' votes, and proved a glorious advocate
for their order. This made him be first taken no
tice of at Court, which he ever after served with
the utmost fidelity. He bore his banishment with
the royal fugitive with the greatest constancy, and
on his restoration was advanced to the highest
dignity, and bore his prosperity with as much
moderatioh as he did his adversity with constancy.
To him we in a great measure owe the liberty we
now enjoy, which, with opposing some other ex
travagancies of the most corrupted Court of that
age, brought his ruin upon him. He died in a
glorious banishment.
His abilities : — He had a mind bright, solid and
penetrating, which not only gives his subject aU
the nerves and strength imaginable, but gives it all
the delicacy and politeness such a subject was
capable of receiving. It was owing to his great
penetration that he draws out every thing to so
uncommon a length.

DISCOURSE ON HISTORY. 293
" When a fuU prospect was taken of the hopes,
&c. aU that occurred appeared so hopeless," &c.
An inaccuracy. (742.)
Keen satire : — " The General only excepted, who
thought himself a Presbyterian." (747-)
L. C. very exact in his chronology. — Orations
give history a very romantic air.
The account of Lord Digby's negotiation, from
his leaving Ireland to his arrival the second time
at Jersey, is the most agreeable, Hvely, and spirited
imaginable. How well is that Lord's singular
temper displayed ! How easy he was to be im
posed on, and happy in the deceit, is represented
with the greatest art. (13.)
How easy is the transition from the Prince's
affairs in 14 to the King's, &c. !
He (L. C) had a sagacity of judgment, a dex
terity of discernment, and had perfectly studied
the humours of the most capricious people in the
world. The great fruitfulness of his imagination often
makes him run out in pursuit of several things
that the object presents to his view before he has
finished the point he is treating of, and conse
quently makes his sentences very long and per
plexing, which puts us to a great deal of trouble to
sort and distinguish each part of them. An instance
relating to Montreuil. (16.)
He never makes use of figures in the relation of

294 FRAGMENTS OF A
facts, but only in his reflections on them. In the
first it would appear too romantic, and as if he had
a design on the reader. But here his discreet use of
them is highly necessary to convey them with the
greatest advantage to the reader, and where no ill
use can possibly be made of them.
The transitions are all natural, easy, and regular.
His indirect speeches and opinions are the most
unornamented part of the work, and consequently
the most just and natural.
His transitions are so very natural that you
do not seem to remove from one place to another,
but that they offer themselves to view necessarily ;
so that always the subject he passes from conducts
him to that he comes to ; that seems to be exhausted,
and this to require to be treated of. In short, they
are so very happily contrived, that the subject you
leave generally receives light from that you enter
upon, and the present shows you the nature of the
past. He says Sir J. Berkeley had a friend at Paris
that governed and loved him better than any
body else did (53), and subjoins, — "he that loved
him best was very willing to be without him,"
We are no longer surprised that his Majesty's
escape from Hampton Court was so unsuccessful,
when he told us before that the two persons who

DISCOURSE ON HISTORY. 295
conducted him were of different parties and prin
ciples. This, too, was the reason that (54) their
acquaintance with the officers lay very different :
seldom conferring with the same men : — which, he
says, was the reason that their informations were
very different, and more perplexed than informed
his Majesty. (55.)
He penetrates into the most hidden motives of
actions, and clears up and explicates all the mys
terious management of the Independents and
Presbyterians of both nations ; for instance, the
different circumventing artifices the ParHament
and Army had whUe the King was with the latter,
(55, 56,)
Speaking of the Members, &c. (64). — " And they
had too much modesty to think they could do amiss
who had prospered so much in all their under
takings." The causes and hidden springs of action are so
well laid open and illustrated by circumstances,
both of things and persons, that the event of all
those surprising changes and revolutions seem
even the necessary, unavoidable consequences of
them. So that I never saw a history so fuU of
important variety so well cleared up and laid open.
It appears from a passage in the 70th p. 3d pt.
that Clarendon began his History in Jersey, whi
ther he went out of the West.

296 FRAGMENTS OF A
Variety of metaphors is faulty and injudicious,
and the carrying only one throughout an observa
tion of any length seldom escapes being formal and
pedantic. The first fault he was too judicious to
commit, and the other inconvenience the happiness
of his manner prevented.
(See 74th p., 3d pt. — Reflections in Oxford.)
Sometimes a quick variety of metaphors is highly
beautiful, as where two different reasons are of
fered for a thing, as, speaking of the rise of the
LeveUers, he says, — "Whether the raising this
spirit was a piece of CromweU's ordinary witch
craft, or whether it grew up amongst those tares
that had been sown in that confusion." {76.) This
is wonderfully fine, and the change of metaphors
the justest imaginable for design and chance.
C. WhaUey (he says) offered great violence to
his nature when he appeared to offer any civihty
and good manners.
In his relation of unexpected occurrences he
gives you it of a sudden, with all the agreeable
surprise imaginable, and afterwards lets you into
the secret of it. By this means you are impatient
to know the causes, and read them with uncom
mon delight and satisfaction. But if he was to
lead you step by step regularly through, the sur
prise would not thus be lost, but you would be

DISCOURSE ON HISTORY. 297
tired before you got through ; as the King's escape
from Hampton Court.
The reflections upon the behaviour of those who
conducted the King from Hampton Court seems
the longest on any single action in the whole His
tory, though no more than necessary, if we con
sider the surprising darkness of that adventure.
CromweU and Ireton showing greater respect to
Ashburnham than Berkeley, the latter thought it
evidence enough of a defect of judgment in them.
This short reflection lets one very weU into his
character. L. Clarendon might make the same apology for
the mention of rival great men in his last vol. that
Paterculus does in the latter end of C. 116, 1. 2.
An exact imitation of the SaUustian brevity, —
"Primo igitur paucos, mox plures," &c. (C. 118.)
It might be justly said of SaUust and L. Claren
don, as it was of Cicero and Demosthenes, that
there could be nothing taken from the one nor
added to the other.
The drowsy duU Presbyterian humour of Fair
fax, who wished nothing that CromweU did, and
yet contributed to bring it all to pass. (86.)

298 FRAGMENTS OF A
To speak of a man's self is a nice and difficult
subject. It grates his own heart to say anything
of disparagement, and the reader's ears to hear
anything of praise from him (says Mr, Cowley).
Lord Clarendon does it with all the good grace
and modesty in the world, and has been so parti
cularly nice in his conduct in this point, that where
a recital of his actions would have won him the
affection of all good men, if it has not an immediate
relation to his History he is very careful to pass
them over in silence ; witness his not mentioning
the noble answer he wrote against no more ad
dresses, when he had so proper an opportunity of
doing it, (p. 95,)
An instance of L. C's penetration and great
judgment is, passing lightly over the little private
jangles between the tyrants and usurpers that
could not at all influence the main subject, (Vide
4to Hist.p, 1,)
The subjects of L, Cl. and Thucydides are much
alike. But if, as Dion. Halic. observes, Thuc. was
injudicious in choosing a subject that ended so
unfortunately, our historian has been more consi
derate in concluding his with the Restoration.
If L. C. be negligent in grammar he only imi
tates his great master Thucyd., who tramples upon
the common rules of grammar, provided he can

DISCOURSE ON HISTORY, 299
thereby exalt his expression, and add more heat
and vehemence to his discourse,
" Ne quid veri non audeat, ne quid falsi audeat,"
Whether an historian is obliged to speak the whole
truth ? Yes,
Those pretenders to the knowledge of human
nature, * * * Hobbes and Rochefaucault,
ascribe all actions to selfish or wicked motives ;
but L. C, who had a thorough insight into it, gives
true causes.
The death of Secretary Nicholas weakened L.
C's authority, as the death of Burrhus weakened
Seneca's : " Quia nee bonis artibus idem virium
erat, altero velut duce amoto, et Nero ad deteri-
ores inclinabat." (Ann. 1, xiv. § 52,)
L. Cl. going off, justified by the like behaviour
of Themistocles, who, when unjustly accused by
the Laced,, went to the Persians,
In the account L. C. gives of the Duke of Buck
ingham, there are several things very conducive to
having a just idea of affairs at that time ; yet it
must be confessed there are several others that
can be only justifiable in an historian who under
took to write the Duke's life ; particularly the story
of the apparition — very fine in itself, but here im
properly inserted.

300 FRAGMENTS OF A
But though, as I observed, the fine story of the
apparition be here faultily inserted, yet the address
with which he introduces it is admirable : " There
were many stories," says he, " scattered abroad at
that time of several prophecies and predictions of
the Duke's untimely and violent death." Now,
what can be more artful ? So much to say was
necessary for understanding the temper of the
nation relating to him ; and he takes this oppor
tunity to introduce the story, hoping, as it were,
by this address to cover the impropriety, and that
the reader would not find it out.
The greatest imperfection, perhaps, in L. C's
nature, was looking with too much veneration on
courts. This makes him speak with such reverence
of D. Buckingham, and not brand those two most
flagrant acts of entering into the two wars, with that
historic justice that an impartial writer should
always practise. That greatness and candour of
mind, that generosity, affability, and courtesy that
the noble author celebrates in the Duke, was reaUy
an aggravation of his crime ; for he acknowledges
that he put off aU his felicity of nature to do one
of the worst acts imaginable — the creating a mis
understanding between the King and Queen.
(p. 39.) Indeed, in the conclusion of this account,
he palliates the thing by observing, that if he had
lived he might have retrieved his miscarriages :
but it is observable, he gives no reasons for that

DISCOU^RSE ON HISTORY, 301
opinion further than that his miscarriages were
the effects of youthful temper, which age might
correct, not that he appeared in his disposition
sensible of them, and inclined to reform them.
Under his (L, C's) freedom of writing is
couched the exactest method ; so in the conclu
sion of the digression relative to the Duke of
Buckingham, he thus expresses himself; — "This
digression is much longer than it was intended :"
words that show he had chalked out the method
with exactness.
"After that bright star was shot out of the
horizon." What beauty and strength in this me
taphor ! how well does it describe his sudden faU !
From the 3rd to the 67th page, which the noble
author divides into two or three digressions, is an
Introduction to the History of the Rebellion, and
takes up the greatest part of the first book.
" Nor had his successors for some time after
him much better fortune," (p. 46,) — having himself
certainly in view.
What can be juster than what he says is the
only justifiable end of eloquence, the making one's
self beheved (p. 47) ; that is, to persuade the au
dience you are sincere.

302 FRAGMENTS OF A
Amongst the most artful, penetrating charac
ters of the first [book] are Sir Thomas Co
ventry's and Treasurer Weston's, the beautiful
contrast of which characters is very remarkable ;
as the most shining are, the Earl of Arundel and Se
cretary Coke, Cardinal de Retz's observation ex
actly just, that delighting in trifling singularities
is always an argument of a little mind and low
genius. L. C saw that illustrated in Arundel, where
he says his nature and true humour disposed him to
delights that were childish and despicable.
He could not with modesty speak of the nature
of the Chancellorship of the Exchequer, where
he speaks of his own advancement to it ; he there
fore does it very artfully in the character of
Treasurer Weston (p. 48.)
The story of Sir Julius Caesar, how beautiful
soever, is faulty in the same regard as that of
the apparition, for this is involving one digression
within another : as likewise the story of Sand-
ford's prognostication of the Earl of Pembroke's
death. E. of Carlisle's manner of dying like Petronius's.
(p. 62. V, i,)
The disposition of the Introduction is not so
natural and exact as could be wished ; for, instead

DISCOURSE ON HISTORY. 303
of continuing the thread of the discourse, it is
divided into several distinct digressions.
Great judgment in Lord Clarendon, where, in the
68th page, vol, i. speaking of the illegality of im
positions, and mentioning Mr, Hambden in the
business of ship-money, he does not stop here to
give his character.
Observable, that where L. C speaks of the ille
gality of the Court proceedings, he does not
so much declaim against the wickedness and in
justice of them as shew the foUy, fruitlessness and
inconvenience to the ends intended. For this
work being for the information of the Crown
chiefly, in future ages, he knew that they might
be sooner restrained from an imitation by the
iU consequences than by the injustice : and we
must always have this end of L. C's writing
for the information of the Crown in viesw,
to judge rightly of this immortal work. When
one writes for the information of the people, the
best way is to press upon the justice and in
justice of an action ; when to the Prince, the
convenience and inconvenience. This must be
the key to L. C's history. — Unskilful men, not
reflecting upon this, had made them condemn
L. C of partiaHty to the Court, of which no
historian was ever more free. This is a refu
tation of what Mr, Le Clere particularly ob-

304 FRAGMENTS OF A
jects, p. 61 of 2nd part of his account; for
the office of the historian and morahst are
different. The moralist, by his office, is to
enlarge on the good or ill abstractedly of an
action. But the historian must set it in such
a light as may best recommend it or discommend
it, and if the convenience and inconvenience will
more readily do that than the good or ill of it,
he must lay the stress there.
L, C says of Noy, p, 73 : " Court made no
change in his mind; in his manners it did." —
A much finer instance of penetration into men's
natures, than the " alieni appetens, sui pro-
fusus," of SaUust.
L. C is very successful, and dehghts much
in beautifully contrasting his characters ; as
Sir Thomas Coventry and Weston, Noy and
Finch, &c.
His description of the happiness of the king
dom, beginning in the 74th page, most admirably
beautiful. N. B. The style, as much as the
difference of subjects will allow, the same with
his History.
The survey of the Leviathan has discovered
how ridiculous a thing speculative politics is,
when it comes to be examined by a minister long

DISCOURSE ON HISTORY. 305
versed in the intrigues of state ; and had L.
C been so fortunate as to have seen tho
roughly into the original of Government, or
the times given him liberty to have owned some
conclusions publicly, he would still have had a
greater advantage over Hobbes : for from those
very principles (so many of Mr, Hobbes's as were
true, and some very extraordinary ones doubtless
there were,) he might have shewn how they
necessarily produced other opposite conclusions,
L, C discovers very clearly and profoundly
Mr. Hobbes's exceeding gross ignorance in history
and laws, and proves his motives in writing his
book were little, base, and infamous ; no other
than, by flattering that most unnatural usurpa
tion of Cromwell, to be received under his
protection. There is always great art in an historian, where
he can serve two ends at once. An instance in
the story of the King's inclosing a park for red
deer, at the latter end of Lord Clarendon's 1st
book, vvhich shews the Archbishop's temper, and
gives one of the causes of the people's murmurs,
&c. Now, did this only shew the Archbishop's
temper, and not conduce to the knowledge of
higher things, it had been faulty.
A most beautiful metaphor, speaking of the
X

306 FRAGMENTS OP A
Scots : — " The monument of their presumption,
and their shame, would have been raised to
gether, and no other memory preserved of their
rebellion, but in their memorable overthrow."
(vol, i. p, 113,)
Of an association :—¦" The Scots took it to a
man, without grieving their conscience or reform
ing their manners," (vol. i, p, 117.)
It is to be observed, that a particular strain of
enmity and contempt of the Scots, runs through
his whole History. He had reason for it. What
he says of the Earl of Essex, may be applied to
himself, "Between a hatred and contempt of
the Scots, he had nothing like an affection for
any mail of that nation." Thus again, see p.
145, V. i.
So he says, " the Duke of Lennox was not at
all a Scotsman, but had the manners and affec
tions of an Englishman." V. i, p. 122, Another
instance of this prejudice is, the case of Duke
Hamilton, who certainly was not false,
Secretary Coke, at fourscore, for whom nobody
cared, being made a sacrifice for the first in
famous peace made with the Scots, puts one in
mind of that pleasant story Butler tells of the
weaver, that lay bed-rid in the plantations.
L, C very remarkably avoids a f^ult that Dion.

DISCOURSE ON HISTORY. 307
Halicar. objects to Theopompus, (in his discourse
of the Greek Hist, to Pompey,) " Quod si in iis
in quibus summum studium posuit, coUisionem
vocaHum, et numerosas circumscriptiones ac figu-
ras simUes neglexisset, long^ melior in elocutione
se ipso evasisset."
Mr. Bayle judged of this well, when he said.
" II y a sans doute je ne scais quelle petitesse dans
ces sortes d'affectations, lorsque la grandeur du
sujet doit attirer toute I'attention de I'^crivain ;"
for, as Menage says, on a not unlike occasion, a
polished Colossus would be ridiculous ; the beauty
of it consists in its just proportions.
L. C so fully explaining aU the concurrent
causes of the RebeUion, not only sufficient to
overturn a kingdom, but a world ; — this sets him
above aU other historians.

X 2

309

THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

I. THEOLOGICAL.

COPY OF A LETTER FROM BISHOP WARBURTON
TO MR. MILLAR.'*
Feb. 7th, 1757.
Sir,
I supposed you would be glad to know what
sort of book it is which you are about to publish
with Hume's name and yours to it. The design
of the first essay is the very same with all Lord
Bohngbroke's, to establish naturalism, a species of
atheism, instead of religion ; and he employs one
of Bohngbroke's capital arguments for it. All the
difference is, it is without Bohngbroke's abusive
language. All the good his mutilation and fitting it up for
the public has done, is only to add to its other folhes
that of contradiction. He is establishing atheism ;
* This Letter is inserted here on account of its connexion with
the subject of the succeeding article.

310 THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
and in one single line of a long essay professes to
believe Christianity. All this I shaU show in a
very few words on a proper occasion.
In the mean time, if you think you have not
money enough, and can satisfy your conscience,
you will do well to publish it ; for there is no
doubt of the sale among a people so feverish, that
to-day they burn with superstition, and to- morrow
freeze with atheism. But the day of the publica
tion and the fast day wiU be an admirable contrast
to one another.
I dare say you knew nothing of the contents ;
but the caution of poor Mr. K. was admirable on
the like occasion with this very man, Hume. He
wrote to Mr. K, to offer him a copy, that had
nothing to do with religion, as he said, Mr. K.
replied, that might be ; but as he had given great
offence, and he (Mr. K.) was himself no judge
of these matters, he desired to be excused.
You have often told me of this man's moral vir
tues. He may have many, for aught I know ; but
let me observe to you, there are vices of the mind
as well as of the body : and I think a wickeder
mind, and more obstinately bent on public mis
chief, I never knew. w. w.

theological. 311

A late writer, who entitles his book Philosophi
cal Essaj'S concerning Human Understanding,
printed for A. MiUar, 1748, has a Discourse on
Miracles, in which he endeavours to show that
there is no probable evidence of the truth of such
facts. His reasoning is summed up in what he
calls " a general maxim worthy our attention, that
no testimony is sufficient to establish a miracle,
unless the testimony be of such a kind that its
falsehood would be more miraculous than the fact
which it endeavours to establish ; and even in that
case there is a mutual destructioh of arguments,
and the superiot only gives us aU assurance suitable
to that degree of force which remains after de
ducting the inferior." (p. 182.)
Now, to pass at present the jargon of his more
miraculous, and to suppose he may mean a testi
mony whose falsehood implies a miracle, I answer,
that in order to render the miraculous fact related
the object of our belief, it is not necessary that the
falsehood of the relator should imply a miracle ;
and for this plain reason, because that testimony
whose falsheood implies a miracle makes the fact
attested not credible, but certain ; for the falsehood
of no testimony but the testimony of sense implies a
miracle. Now, what the senses inform us of we call
certain. If they deceive us, it must be byGod's alter
ing the established order of things, which this author
agrees to be a true definition of a miracle ; so that

312 THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
we see he mistakes the very nature of the evidence
in question. But would you know why he uses
his nonsense of more miraculous, instead of mi
raculous, it is to insinuate that even the evidence
of sense is no sufficient proof of a miracle ; for he
confesses that the degree of evidence, in the case
here put, is only the remains of his more miraculous
when the quantity in his less miraculous has been
deducted ; so that if the falsehood ofthe testimony
and the fact testified were equally miraculous, from
thence, we see, no proof would arise ; i. e. we
ought not to own the truth of a miraculous fact
when it makes its appeal to the senses. But if this
man's reasoning cannot verify his own maxim, his
passions will at least verify that of our Heavenly
Master, who long ago pronounced that " He who
will not believe Moses and the Prophets will not
believe though one arose from the dead."
But the unhappy man would exclude all miracles,
because at all hazards he will exclude Christianity,
as appears from another of his maxims, for he is
not a dealer in small truths : " We may establish
it as a maxim (says he), that no human testimony
can have such force as to prove a miracle, and
make it a just foundation for any such system of
religion," (p. 199;) i. e. no possible proof can be
given of miracles to establish any revelation or
popular religion, as he just before expresses it ;
for he himself, forsooth, is of the rehgion of the
philosophers. Yet, when he has said this, with an

THEOLOGICAL. 313
impartiality becoming the most moral of his tribe,
he adds the following corrective ; that in miracles,
where religion has nothing to do, we may safel}^
believe a miracle : If (says he) all authors agree
that from 1st Jan. 1600 there was a total darkness
over the whole earth for eight days, it is evident our
present philosophers ought to receive it for a certain
fact ; but, should all the historians who treat of
England agree that 1st Jan. 1600 Queen Elizabeth
died, (who here, you are to observe, stands for
Christ,) that she afterwards rose again, took pos
session of the throne, and governed publicly for
three years, this you are to reject as an arrant
fable, (pp, 199, 200.) His spite, we see, is not
against miracles, but only against the workers of
them ; for why, I pray you, are we to make this dis
tinction ? Are not the two facts equally attested by
the concurrent evidence of all concerned ? Are
they not equally miraculous ? for the absence of
the sun eight days together from the globe of the
earth is surely as contrary to the common course
of nature as the resurrection of one from the dead.
If he believes that, from the beginning, none ever
rose from the dead, he beheves, too, that there
never was a total darkness for eight days together.
Here, then, the uniform experience, as he calls it,
is, in both cases, the same ; yet we must beheve the
one, and not the other. Here spoke the true sense,
as well as spirit, of modern infidelity ;— we must re
ject thnt miracle, for whose working, by the inter-

314 THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
position of God, we can give a reasonable account,
and embrace that for which there is no account to
be given at all. But this circumstance of the cause
of working the miracles recorded in Scripture, so
worthy the exertion of the Divine power, is always,
either for want of sense or honesty, omitted by this
author, when he comes to balance what he calls
his opposed proofs, on which all his jargon turns.
And well would it be for our moral philosopher if
this was the only one omitted ; but every collateral
circumstance that affords internal evidence of the
truth of the Evangelic testimony, such as the state
of the world that follows, and which must have
been that very state consequent on miracles, had
miracles been really performed ; such again as the
accomplishment of predictions recorded in books,
as well known to be written after the facts, as that
Julius Csesar's Commentaries was written before
the time of Henry VIIL ; — none of these, I say,
are ever brought into the balance of this fair ac
countant. Very suitably, therefore, is his reason
ing supported on each hand, and of a piece with
the modesty of his introduction and the decency
of his conclusion.
Thus he begins : -"I flatter myself that I have
discovered an argument, which, if just, will with
the wise and learned be an everlasting check to all
kinds of Silperstitious delusion, and, consequently,
will be useful as long as the World endures." (p. 174.)
Thus he ends : — " Mere reason is insufficient to

fHEOLOGlCAL. 316
convince us of the veracity of the Christian reli
gion ; and whoever is moved hy faith to assent to
it, is conscious of a continued miracle in his own
person, which subverts all the principles of his
understanding, and gives him a demonstration to
believe what is most contrary to custom and ex
perience." (p. 203.)
Who, after this, will scruple to own that free
dom of thinking is the source of our greatest bless
ings, and that the liberty of the press is the only
means of conveying and preserving them pure and
unpolluted to our posterity ! ! !
The Unity ofthe Godhead may be proved from
his necessary existence, thus : — Necessary existence
implies the supposition of the possibility of his
non-existence to be absurd. It follows that such
a Being must be infinite ; for if you can suppose
Him as not existing in any one place you may
suppose Him as not existing in any other, and
consequently as not existing at all, contrary to the
position of necessary existence. This Being, then,
is infinite ; but to positive infinitude nothing can
be added : yet the supposal of another necessarily
existent Being is adding to infinitude ; therefore
there is no other. The Deity, then, is one,
Transuhstantiation and Passive Obedience are the
two capital absurdities of religion and government.
When these have once got possession of great

316 THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS,
masters of reasoning, who are the openest to convic
tion, their pride will not suffer them, when they
come to the knowledge of the truth, to give that
honour to reason, because it might be said, why was
it so slow in its operations ? but rather choose to
give the credit to authority, which, besides the air
of modesty which so well befits those just escaped
from the chains of error, saves their reput a on
as we may suppose a docility on the first acquaint
ance. Thus Ridley gave the honour of his conver
sion from Transuhstantiation to Bertram's discourse
on that subject ; and the elder Sherlock his from
Passive Obedience to Bishop Overall's Convocation
Book.

Mahometanism was first propagated through
the west of Asia by fire and sword, Christianity
was propagated through the same countries by the
foolishness of preaching, and the gentle arts of per
suasion. When both religions were well established
in their several quarters, then Mahometanism
under the caliph Haroun al-Raschid propagated it
self without force in India, and Christianity, under
Charlemagne, contemporary with that caliph, was
forced upon the Saxons by the power of the sword
in Germany, Who does not see the hand of God
in the religion of the Nazarite, and the hand of
man only in that of the Arab, as well, at those
different times, in the circumstance of force, as in
the circumstance of persuasion ? But this matter

THEOLOGICAL, 317
needs much explanation ; the soft and nerveless
nature of the Indians easily takes an impression ;
the rough manners of the barbarous Saxons ab
horred a change.
We are apt to ascribe that to fanaticism which is
the effect of sober sense. Every reformer vmder
Edward VI. was shocked at the name of altar ; and
with reason. Who scruples to call it so now? When
Brutus had just killed Csesar, and had proclaimed
his shows as Prsetor, the month, instead of Quin-
tills, was styled July, by mistake of his agents,
which greatly disturbed Brutus, and with reason ;
yet who, the most devoted to liberty, under the
Emperors, would then scruple it ?

The false modesty of the insignificance of such
a being as man, has always encouraged modern
unbelievers to call in question the moral govern
ment of God. To this topic the D. of Marlbo
rough (who, without doubt, had often heard it
urged in the licentious court in which he had been
brought up,) evidently alludes, when he says to the
Duchess, in his Letter of Aug, 26, 1709, — " I can
not help being of opinion, that, however insignifi
cant ice may be, there is a Power above that puts
a period to our happiness or unhappiness. If any
body had told me eight years ago, that, after such
great success, and after you had been a faithful
servant twenty-seven years, — that ever in the

318 THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
Queen's lifetime we should be obliged to seek
happiness in a retired life, I could not have be
lieved that possible."

THE ART OF LYING UNDER COVER OP THE TRUTH,
The Histories of the Reformation tell us, parti
cularly Burnet, that in the first Convocation under
Mary, Weston, Dean of Westminster, Prolocutor,
said to the Protestant members, " You have the
word, but we have the sword." Can any man in
his senses believe that Weston made this conces
sion, when the contention was — who had the word,
or the truth ? I suppose that in the heat of the
dispute a zealous Protestant member might
triumphantly say, " We have the word ;" to
whom the Prolocutor as insultingly replied, " But
we have the sword ; " not thereby aUowing the
Protestant pretension, as the story makes him do,
but simply conveying this answer, " If you boast
of the word, the thing in dispute, allow us to
boast, in our turn, of the sword, a thing out of
dispute, and which we intend to employ, if the
word, which we likewise lay claim to, will not do,"

The fable says, that when the giants invaded
heaven, they would have succeeded, but that they
had not attained their full age. Is not this to in
sinuate that free-thinking was but in its infancy ?

When Lord Herbert's book, De Veritate, first

THEOLOGICAL. 319
came out, Gassendi had, I suppose, spoken of it as
it deserved, for, writing to Diodati of Geneva, he
expresses himself thus: — "Vous avez bien aug
ment^ ma confusion, en me marquant les ^loges
que tant de grands personnages, et principalement
le Pape, ont donn^ a ce livre." He then gives his
opinion of the book, like a man on whom novelties
could not impose, though this novelty had then so
much imposed as to make the Pope patronize a
book evidently written in favour of Deism and
Naturalism : " My Lord me semble fetre all6 un
peu vite, et avoir un peu trop bonne opinion de
son fait : il semble meme un peu exceder aux
louanges qu'il donne a lui-meme, et a son ouvrage,
comme si tons ceux qui I'ont pr^c^d^ Etoient des
aveugles. J'en ai certes en moi-meme, si je I'ose
dire, un esp^oe de compassion, et principalement
quand je considere que cet ouvrage n'est qu'une
espace de dialectique, qui pent bien avoir sa re
commendation, mai qui n'empeche pas qu'on n'en
puisse forger cent autres de pareUle valeur et mfeme
de plus grand." (Vie de Gassendi, pp, 135, 136.)
Gassendi wrote his remarks upon it, which is to be
found in the edition of his works.
We find by St, Paul's 1st Ep. to the Corin
thians, that many in that Church disbelieved the
resurrection of the body. The common interpreters
suppose these were a crew of atheists. Nothing
so : they were Platonized Christians, who aUe-

320 THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
gorized the literal sense, and supposed the Avaa--
Tacrts to mean the arising to newness of life, to a
life of virtue. This was but too common a heresy
in the first ages of the Church ; and to their in
terpretation of Avaa-Tua-is the apostle beautifully
alludes where he insinuates to them that it was
the love of vice that kept them in this opinion :
" e/ci/rj'^l/aTe hiKaiws Ka) jxti dy.apTaV€T€."

St. Paul, 1 Cor, xv. v. 43, transfers the idea of
seed sown to the birth, not the death of man
in this world, as is commonly imagined, and then
uses the figurative expression, " It is sown in dis
honour, " o-Treiperaj iv aTipn'a. Why sown in disho
nour? because we come into the world just like
beasts of the field, which sure is dishonour enough ;
it is sown in weakness, (nreipe.7ai iv dtr&eveia, regard
ing the helpless state of a long infancy.
It was an observation that I made to Sir R. S.
that the setters up of a false religion never suc
ceeded unless imposture and enthusiasm joined in
the comedy : either alone were unequal to the
work.

It is an objection that the Church of Rome can
not be the Anti-Christian Church, since it holds
all the essential doctrines of Christianity. I answer,
if it did not. Antichrist, which was said to be and
to arise out of the Catholic Church, could not be

THEOLOGICAL. 321
to do SO, but out of some heretical or schismatical
branch.

Both the sabbath and the rainbow existed before
each of them were used for memorials of God's
dealing with his people.

The Church of England says, she forsook
Rome because Rome would not suffer her to for
sake her errors, and yet continue in her communion.
The Puritans say, they forsook her because she is
Antichrist, and they are bid to go out of Babylon.
These come to the same thing. The characteristic
essential mark of Antichrist is persecution.

Proverbs xviii. 22, — " Whoso findeth a wife
findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favour of the
Lord." So bold an assertion hath shocked the
more experienced critics, who have presumed that
Solomon expressed himself according to the copies
which read, " Whosojindeth a good wife, Jindeth
a good thing, and obtaineth favour of the Lord ; "
and this out of tender regard to the truth of sacred
Scripture, Surely Solomon was never sent into
the world to make this discovery. It was a fitter
exploit for the old hermit of Prague the poet
speaks of, who, although he had never seen pen
and ink, yet, by dint of profound sagacity, found
out that whatever is, is ; and had these critics but
discovered (which required not much more reach
Y

322 THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
of thought), that the wise man was here only cha
racterising the divine ordinance of marriage itself,
as instituted in Paradise, on this great principle,
" that it was not good for man to be alone," their
scruples concerning the integrity of the text would
have been easUy relieved, the sense ofthe proposi
tion being simply this — " Whoever endeavours to
conform himself to the order of Providence in sup
porting this institution, endeavours to obtain a
good thing." It is not the woman, whether good
or bad, of whom this quahty is predicated, but the
wife, figuratively used, too, for the holy institution
of marriage itself. And this sense the concluding
words of the verse might have led them to, — " and
obtaineth favour of the Lord ;" for why does he
who fincb a wife obtain God's favour ? For no
other reason, sure, than because he comphes with
and promotes the ordinance of God ; for it is not
to be supposed that anything satirical in the mo
dern vein is here insinuated, as if a good wife was
a special favour, of which God had not many to be
stow.

Hints, probably intended for the second part of
" Directions for the Study of Theology," which
part seems never to have been completed.
No levity of mind which occasions indifference
to truth, but a cheerfulness which gives pleasure
to the pursuit.

THEOLOGICAL. 323
Persuade yourself that the possession of truth
is the great good.
In this severe scrutiny to find truth, take care
of scepticism.
If you cannot find out a supposed truth, be
assured it is of no great importance.
Doubt, said the old Academics, is the nerves of
the mind. And so it is, would we endeavour to
free ourselves from it ; but, when we like to rest
in this state, it becomes the lethargy of it.
Presumption the contrary to doubt, and as fatal
to truth.
As when you come into your study, you throw
off that set dress which fashion or your profession
make you wear, to set the body at ease ; so to set
the mind, you should all opinions. The first
when you come into public you resume again,
how fantastic or incommodious soever. The
other you examine carefuUy, and never resume
again as truths, tiU you have demonstration of
their being such.
Opinions new and old ; — ^prejudices annexed to
each. Evidences to the truth new and old ; — the
favourable prejudices, and unfavourable of each.
Authority : — how far serve yourself of it. —
More cautious in examining the opinions opposed
to it : — ^more earnest in examining the opinions
supported by it.i — Want of authority. — Reasons
of heretics, — not frightened, but fairly examined.
y2

324 THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
Mind indifferent to opinions, — more zealous
to truth ; — the first will keep us in the right way,
the other facilitate our progress in it. — A mind
thus pure, has the best pretension to the Divine
blessing.

IL CRITICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS.

There are two principles in philosophy, that of
late have raised great disputes. The first is about
innate ideas : some absolutely deny, and others
as resolutely defend. Mr. Locke argues against
them. Lord Shaftesbury defends them. Whereas
there is certainly a medium, that neither of them
have hit ; and this will clear up aU difficulties —
'tis this : — Of speculative and metaphysical ideas,
we have none innate. Of moral ones we have.
And in this I think the wisdom of our Creator is
very conspicuous. To all our knowable ideas,
we may certainly arrive by reason ; therefore
there is no necessity for any other way as to our
speculative ideas. But as to our moral ones it.
is not so. To arrive at truth there is more
difficulty, by reason of the passions that traverse
and oppose our road. So that two helps here are
necessary to gain our end. Instinct, or connate
ideas, and the deductions of reason. The de
ductions of reason are of themselves sufficient in

CRITICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS. 325
the former case, where there are no passions to
obstruct. In this latter not so. — See Le Clere
and Shaftesbury.
The second is about the force of self-love. And
it is certain that all our moral actions may be
resolved. But then it is as certain that this self-love does
not discredit the action. Whereas the advocates
for self-love would discredit the action from this
consideration. And their opponents deny that
self-love has any thing to do in the affair ; — both
mistakes, — and which have embarrassed the argu
ment. — This solution is the true key to it.

In all pure and simple languages, before they
are become enriched, that is, debauched, by the
luxury of arts and science, I think there can
hardly be more than one word for each mixed
mode, and must be many for substances. The
reason seems to be this. Substances are creatures
of nature's making; and their qualities are dis
covered by degrees, as chance or experiments
upon them bring them out to observation. Sub
stances being known only by their qualities,
receive their names from thence. Hence, this
or that quality striking this or that man more
strongly, he gives this or that name to a
substance. Another man discovers another quahty,
and so gives the same substance another name ;
another another, and so on, till one and the same

326 THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
substance acquires a great many names. On
the contrary, mixed modes are creatures of our
own making. They consist of a number of simple
ideas which we choose to tie together, and to
each of these bundles we give a name ; but, know
ing the composition precisely as of our own
putting together, there is no room to bestow
more than one name to one mixed mode. Add
one more idea to this bundle, or take one from
it, and it becomes no longer the same mixed
mode : a new one, though nearly related to the
old, is created, and to this a new name is given.
And the nearness of the relation having some
times confounded them, a mistake has arisen,
that one mixed mode has frequently in the same
language more than one name ; which, while
the language continues simple, I think rarely
happens. When arts and science have introduced
luxury in language, one and the same moral
mode is supposed to acquire several names by the
beneficence of rhetoric and poetry. And yet
then it wiH, when well examined, be generaUy
found that aU but one are abusively and inaccu
rately given, or taken to be synonymous when
indeed they are not so. And so much confusion
in expression and reasoning has arisen from
thence, that lawyers and philosophers have found
it necessary to redress in a formal manner the
licentious use of words amongst poets and orators.

CRITICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS. 327
The Alma of Prior I take to be the masterpiece
of all his writings. 'Tis a thorough satire, whose
general view is to ridicule hypothesizing in philoso
phy, by the invention of avery humourous system of
the mind in opposition to those of Aristotle and
Descartes ; in which he shows, by the several plau
sible and concurring arguments for the support of
his whim, how easy it is for an ingenious man to
dress up the most groundless fancy with the air
and importance of truth and reality. This he has
done in the most entertaining manner, by illus
trating each phUosophical position by instances
from such of the common modes and habits of the
age as afford the properest subjects for satire,
which he never fails of adorning with all the force
and dehcacy imaginable. As the subject of this
exquisite poem naturally suggests ideas very dis
advantageous to the force and extent of human
understanding, the poet does not omit to insinuate
those suggestions, a high strain of scepticism
running throughout the whole ; particularly that
noted common place of the diversity of customs
and manners amongst different people, so much
insisted on in a celebrated chapter of Montaigne,
our poet has handled with vast humour and agree-
ableness.

The Templars had, without doubt, all those vices
which a rich order of military are apt to faU into,
pride, avarice, rapine, and luxury. But this would

328 THOUGTHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
not have been enough to destroy them in the age
in which they were dissolved. The powerful con
federacy which had decreed their ruin, in order to
share their spoils, found the readiest way was to
insist upon the popular tales that ran about to
their discredit ; tales of the same nature which
had been before invented against the primitive
Christians by the pagans, against the Manicheans
by the Christians, and long after revived against
the first Protestants by the Papists. These tales,
by confessions on the rack, were urged against
them as judicial evidence. Yet of all this, the only
thing which appears to have any foundation in
truth, was a strange custom the knights had of
obliging those they received into the order [to the
ceremony] of trampling and spitting upon the cross :
which had so much the air of an apostacy, that it
was no wonder this single rite should have them
in universal execration. Yet I am persuaded even
this had more of folly than impiety in it. The
knights were all of noble birth, and from the age
they lived in, so profoundedly ignorant, that the
last grand master who suffered at the stake could
neither write nor read. In their commerce with
the Saracens, which at length became very inti
mate, they heard them profess the highest venera
tion for Christ as a great prophet, and at the same
time upbraid the Christians for the mean and low
ideas they entertained of their Saviour, as if he
had been affixed to the cross like the lowest male-

CRITICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS, 329
factor ; whereas in truth he was taken up tri
umphantly into heaven, and Judas, whom the
Jews mistook for Jesus, crucified in his stead.
This doctrine was perfectly agreeable to the no
tions of these noble and ignorant knights, who
thought themselves disgraced by the service of a
crucified master, and so readily ran into these Ma
hometan ideas. Those who know the condition of
these times, and that at the very period when so
general an apostacy was pretended, there were
great numbers of the knights of this order groan
ing in Saracen chains who might have redeemed
themselves from captivity by their apostacy, will
not be indisposed to receive this solution of the
difficulty ; which is further strengthened by their
tradition, that, a grand master having been taken
prisoner by the Saracens, the soldan would not re
lease him but on condition that he introduced into
the ceremonies of the order the custom of spitting
on the cross.

About the beginning of the reign of Louis XIV.
a whimsical humour took its birth in his court, of
drawing one another's portraits, as they were
caUed. There was not a girl nor petit maitre but
who drew their acquaintance, and were drawn by
them. Yet to this ridiculous fancy we owe those
masterpieces which we call characters in Card, de
Retz and Lord Clarendon.

330 THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
The extremes of opinion into which men run,
seem to be caused by a mixture of perversity which
heightens the various passions and prejudices
which betray us into these foUies. Thus, while
some deny that inexplicable force of imagination
which produces such effects in pregnant women,
against the fullest and clearest evidence that ever
confirmed matters of fact, others ascribe much
more accountable effects of its power to miraculous
operation. In a court where decorum is observed and de
cency consulted, they will, in important matters,
such as the education of a prince, call into nomi
nation the greatest characters for learning and
virtue. Thus when the education of Louis the
XIV. came in question, Gassendi, Rigault, and
Perefixe were named, out of whom to make a
choice. But courts are courts still, and whether
the list on this occasion be collected from the
worthy or the unworthy, they are sure to take the
worst man from either list.
Great men of similar characters, and in the
same circumstances, often act as if they learned of
one another ; whereas the same spirit was the com
mon teacher. Cicero, in his Epistles to Atticus,
informs his friend that Csesar, now master of the
republic, called Cicero to Rome, and invited him
to partake his counsels ; who expressing a re-

CRITICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS, 331
luctancy to this service, the dictator told him, that
if he would not permit him to use his advice, he
would use such as he could get from others, who
would not be so scrupulous. In like manner when
Cromwell found that Hale, whom he sounded for
that purpose in private, was backward to the pro
ject of administering justice under him on the
bench, the usurper told him, with some passion
but more resolution, that if he could not govern
by the red gowns he would govern by the red coats.
The application of CromweU to Hale was more
successful than that of Csesar to Cicero. Not
that the English lawyer loved his country less, but
that the Roman was more vain, intriguing, and
ambitious.

The different manner in which Cicero's history
of Orators, and Pliny's history of Painters are
written, is very remarkable. In the first you see
the orators rise in order from their first rude be
ginnings, and graduaUy improving tiU they arrive
at perfection. In the other the earhest painters
and statuaries are described as aU-exceUent. Then
follow others with new-invented beauties of more
perfection : after these come others with something
still more exquisite to recommend them. This
shows that Cicero himself examined all the ora
tors he brings in review, and was a perfect master
of his subject. On the other hand Pliny was
indebted for his accounts of the painters of all ages
to their contemporary historians, who having no

332 THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
idea of greater perfection that what they saw, they
who begun, and they who perfected the art, would
be spoken of much alike.

True policy, I think, does not so much consist in
forming projects, as in making the right use of ac
cidents as they arise.

Descartes and Leibnitz were both great geniuses.
I pity the first, for he was a visionary : I despise
the other, for he was a cheat.

That very cause which made the Roman lawyers
write better Latin than their contemporaries,
makes our lawyers write worse English than theirs:
both were engaged in studying the laws and
lawyers which went before them.

The first great seaman the Romans had was C.
DuiUius, he who first overcame the Carthaginians,
those masters of the sea, in a naval combat. Tully
makes the elder Cato tell this story of him, that it
was his custom (in a city that gave neither encou
ragement to nor example of such a practice), in
returning home from entertainments, to bepreceded
by torches and music, " Tantum licentice dabat
gloria," says the Censor, By this we may see how
alike in manner sailors of aU times and places ever
were.

CRITICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS. 333
When Cahgula made his horse a consul, I make
no question but in his jolHty he added to the insult,
by telling his courtiers that he only imitated the
example of the best times of the repubHc, when
they took their consuls from the plough.

Men are never so complaisant to their imagina
tion as when they have done great feats with their
reason. Women never so presuming with their
reason as when they have previously inflamed their
imagination.

The heads of James I. and Charles II. better
than their hearts : the hearts of Charles I. and
James II. better than their heads. Hence the po
litics of the two former most successful.

Amongst the numberless instances of the great
ness of Bacon's genius, this may be reckoned for
one. In his book of the "Advancement of Learn
ing," he makes the^r*^ philosophy to consist in
maxims common to the several sciences. This
being a Httle fanciful, in pursuing his point, in
stead of real maxims, the fire of his imagination
carries h\vn to conclude his examples of them in
mere simUitudes. Here an ordinary genius would
have stopped with satisfaction ; but Bacon was not
the dupe of his imagination, how indulgent soever
he was to it : therefore, though he does not reform

334 THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
his slip, he endeavours to cover and conceal it ;
p. 215, "Neque hsec omnia quse diximus," &c.
In your commerce with the great, if you would
have it to turn to your advantage, you should en
deavour, if the person be of great abilities, to make
him satisfied with you ; if he be of none, to make
him satisfied with himself.
The Royal Society in its first institution had
two formidable adversaries, Hobbes and Stubbs,
The first, because he gave no attention but to his
own ideas ; the second, because he gave no atten
tion but to the ideas of the ancients. The Society
was too new for the one, and not new enough for
the other.

When men's imaginations are heated on any
subject of abhorrence, they fancy strange forms of
terror in whatever holds anything in common with
it. When James the First's Parliament of 1620 were
warmly engaged in the pursuit and prosecution of
the monopolists, so great a scandal to that and the
foregoing and following reigns, somebody chanced
to bring in a Biliybr the repair of the great road or
highway to London between Beglesworth* and Bal
dock, to be supported by a toU on the passengers ; it
was thrown out, " because (says the collector of
the proceedings of that House of Commons) — it
savoured of a monopoly ; " and the good patriots
* Sic.

CRITICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS. 335
of that time rather chose to stick fast, as their
fathers had done, at every step, in the clay of Bal
dock lane, than to give countenance to anything
that savoured of a monopoly. They had suffered
greatly by monopoHes, and they mistook every
project to be of the monopoly kind : like Cervantes'
madman of Madrid, who, having been chastised for
using a spaniel dog ill, mistook every dog for a
spaniel.

Lord Clarendon Hved in an age of great geniuses ;
and it is remarkable that in drawing the various
characters of them he generaUy observes that they
were smaU-sized, or inconveniently shaped. That
was an age of little great men ; this is an age of
great little men.

SoHcitude for the present, and anxiety for the
future, set curious men in the dark ages of litera
ture upon cultivating the pretended sciences of
judicial astrology and the transmutation of metals.
True phUosophy has long since drawn the learned
from these fruitless inquiries : but, what is a dis
grace to the precision and exactness of judgment
which now prevails, these two pretended sciences
are now treated on the same footing, as equaUy
the opprobrium to the human understanding ;
whereas there is so immense a distance between
them, that judicial astrology would disgrace a
moderately mad Bedlamite, whUe the process in the

336 THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
transmutation of metals only fails from art's
being not yet able to discover the secret by which
nature works in this transmutation, which is cer
tainly one of its operations, and an operation
mechanically performed by means of heat on fitly
disposed bodies. But it seems to me that moral,
rather than physical, causes in God's government
of the world have prevented, and will for ever
prevent, the certain knowledge of this process of
nature.

Sects and parties are generally as far from truth
and modesty when they give themselves titles as
when their enemies give them to them. We have
had in different times Reformers to bring us back
to pure religion, and Reformers to carry us away
from all. Two ages ago Erasmus was at the head
of the first. All that the stupidity of the monks
could do to discredit them was to call them poets,
insinuating that they were devoid of truth and
science, at a time when all science had taken re
fuge with them. It is pleasant to observe that
whenever monkish dulness is opposed by wit and
eloquence, nature points to the same rehef: '' the
laws (says grave Bp, Nicolson, speaking of Atter-
bury's famous though false book of the Rights,
Powers and Privileges of Convocation,) will never
long endure such a load of jest and poetry," The
Reformers from religion of the present times (at
the head of whom is Voltaire) would not trust their

CRITICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS, 337
good name to their enemies, and therefore conferred
one upon themselves, and so called themselves
PHILOSOPHERS ; insinuating that aU reason had
left the religionists, and was gone over to these
reformers of common sense.

There is a deal of good sense and knowledge,
from habit of business, in these (Sir Phihp War
wick's) Memoirs, The composition is bad, and
the style slovenly and inaccurate. I say nothing
of his pubhc prejudices, which had a natural and
not unamiable root.

I do not think the method of learning languages
at school so defective as has been represented. If
there be any irregularity in the method, I think it
is learning Latin prose and verse promiscuously ;
the first taught first ; the Hteral sense taught before
the figurative ; and perhaps too much verse.

Camden says of Hooker's Eccl. Pol. — "most
worthy to be turned into Latin." / say most
worthy not to be turned into Latin : — but this was
natural for a schoolmaster.

Mr. Addison in his Travels mocks at an Italian
poet for declaring gravely in an advertisement to
his comedy, that he did not believe the fates,
destinies, gods, &c. of Paganism ; but, had that
critic known that all the dramatic poets do the

338 THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
same, he would have seen Httle room for his re
flection : besides, the Inquisition is reason enough
for so doing ; and Paul the Second actually had
it in his thoughts to erect a kind of inquisition
against poets. This was at the commencement of
the restoration of letters.

Plautus, by his vastly greater variety of charac
ters than Terence, seems to have had a more
comprehensive knowledge of human nature than
this latter.
Terence has generally the preference given him
to Plautus with regard to sentiments ; and yet,
perhaps, the sentiments of Alcumena, in the second
act of Amphitryon, are finer, or, at least, equal to
the best in Terence, where she comforts herself
for Amphitryon's absence, and says, —
" Virtus praemium est optimum.
Virtus," &c.
For, first, these are the sentiments of the sex in
general, who prefer valour to all the other cardinal
virtues ; secondly, they are the sentiments of free
republics ; thirdly, it was a fine compliment to the
Romans,

Though in Cicero's orations against Catiline he
feigns in one the greatest rage against Catiline ;
in another, the warmest love for his country ; in
another, respect for justice, &c. ; yet throughout
the whole the predominant passion is fear : for

CRITICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS. 339
instance, in the first oration, would he have la
boured so much to make Catiline believe all his
counsels were betrayed to him, had he not been
under terrible fears of him ? when, certainly, the
most politic way to have defeated the conspiracy
would have been, to have hid all suspicion of in
telligence, as this was the ready way to make
Catihne purge his council of the traitors.

Virgil's sixth book made him pass in the monkish
ages for a conjuror. This was so strongly im
pressed on their minds, that an idolatrous fondness
for this poet made men to be thought magicians.
So Innocent the Sixth continued to beheve Pe
trarch to be a magician for this only reason, his
fondness for Virgil. A note to the " Dii quibus
imperium," was understood by them as a serious
invocation.

It appears evidently by the state in which we
find this work,* that Sidney first wrote it without
the long episode of the siege of Amphialus conse
quent on the seizing of the princes, and afterwards
added that episode, which he left unfinished. The
romance seems to be more regular and entire
without it, though it be full of beauties. It was
first in four books, as appears by there being only
four eclogues, to each book one ; but this episode
changed the number of books into five, and so one
* Probably the Arcadia.
z 2

340 THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
was without its eclogue, and in another, namely
the third, misplaced.

What I learn by these Letters* is this, that
the Whigs were much to blame for not making a
good peace in 1706 and — 9, and the Tories for
making an ill one in 1712. There was this dif
ference, that when the Whigs treated they were
not embarrassed by the Tories, but when the Tories
treated they were greatly embarrassed by the
Whigs ; from whence it appears, that, had the
Tories been free to act when in power, — that is,
aided, or, at least, not impeded, by the Whigs,
they would have made a better peace. The Whigs
when in power had not the same excuse why they
did. not make a peace at all. When a peace was
made, the Whigs condemn the Tories because it
was no better ; the Tories condemn the Whigs for
hindering (as they certainly did) their endeavours
to procure a better. They accuse each other
justly ; and between them both have made it
manifest that a struggle for power, and not the
interest of their country, was the sole view, as well
of the one as of the other. Had the Whigs been
the real patriots, they would, when thrown out
of the saddle by the Tories, have concurred with
them to procure a good peace, when, by their
opposition, they could not hinder a bad one ;
* What these Letters are does not appear.

CRITICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS. 341
and had the Tories in power been the real
patriots, when the opposition of the Whigs
encouraged France to deny the ministry reason
able terms, even in the height of their own dis
tresses, they would either have refused a peace
on the terms of the treaty of Utrecht, or joined
with the Whigs to force France to give them
better; therefore, as neither one party nor the
other did their duty on this occasion, one may
pronounce them hoth factions, and that the faults
in the Utrecht treaty are to be charged, though
not equally, on them both.

One day that Mr. Lyttelton, Hooke and I dined
with Mr. Murray, Hooke entertained us with a
number of ridiculous stories of the coxcombical
vanity of the Chevalier Ramsay ; on which Mr.
Lyttelton said, " If such be the man, how came
you, Mr. Hooke, to follow him perpetuaUy as his
e'le've — to cry up his romance of Cyrus, and to
translate it so finely into English ? " " As for that
matter," said I, " Mr. Hooke acted well the dis
cernment and fidelity of Sancho Panga, who had
discovered his master to be a madman, but could
not help admiring him as the wisest madman in
the world."

March 22, 1770.— The Duke of Cumberland
came up to us as we were sitting in a knot upon
our bench, and talking of what was then passing.
He said, " My Lords, it is observed that you always

342 THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
keep silence, and except you (addressing himself
to me), I never heard any of the Bishops speak."
" Sir," said I, " whenever I hear religion or the
bench insulted, your Royal Highness shall hear me
speak in their vindication," " Aye ; but why will
not your Lordships speak on other occasions ? "
" Sir," replied I, " haranguing in this assembly is
a ti-ade like other trades, and generally the Bishops
come to this bench so advanced in years as to be
too old to learn. Besides, sir," said I, " we have
been long accustomed to severe reason and exact
method ; so that we should be as much at a loss
to talk nonsense as some others, more habituated,
to talk sense."
A state of authorship is a state of war, and when
I first drew my pen every popgun alarmed me ;
but by use, and the experience of no danger, I
learned to hear a blunderbuss discharged at either
ear without the least emotion.
In a thing called /4n Historical and Critical
Account of the Life of Oliver Cromwell, by Harris,
there is an Appendix, containing a number of
very curious letters written by CromweU, between
'46 and '54, of a domestic nature, to those within
his own walls, to his children, his family and
alhes [relations] ; which would almost persuade
one that he was a sincere and warm enthusiast.
If this will not be allowed, all that can be said is,

CRITICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS. 343
that he here played the hypocrite only to keep
his hand in ; or that hypocrisy, by long habit,
had gotten so entire a possession of aU his
faculties, that he was in the condition of the
common liar Shakespeare speaks of,
Who loving an untruth by telling 't oft.
Made such a sinner of his memory,
To credit his own lie.

PART V.

CHARGES AND SERMONS.

347

CHARGE

CLERGY OF THE DIOCESE OF GLOUCESTER,
1767.

My Reverend Brethren,
Our Blessed Saviour, in His divine discourses to
his disciples, intermixes indiscriminately the pre
cepts which He designed for the future use, both
of the preachers and hearers of the Word, at such
time as the followers of that rehgion, which He
was sent to teach, should be formed into a church.
A method most proper for the regulation and
government of a free society like the Christian, in
which the teachers are rather monitors to men
taught before of God, than instructors in new
principles to an audience, who was to swallow
impHcitly whatsoever was delivered to them.
This method of instruction is carried on
throughout the whole Sermon on the Mount,
where the prece])t is sometimes addressed to the
future hearer, and sometimes to the future teacher
of the Word ; and this, not only on different
subjects, but on one and the same. As for
instance, that natural penetration men have, and

348 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
quick sight, into the faults and blemishes of others,
and blindness to their own : a moral phenomenon
so strange and perverse, as well as general and
constant, that the ancient masters of wisdom were
forced to have recourse to a mythologic fable to
explain it, — a fable implying that it was by the
positive appointment of the Author of our being.
But it was the way of ancient wisdom to make
plain things mysterious; otherwise a little at
tention to human nature would have easily
discovered the cause of this unequal measure
distributed to ourselves and others. Vice is in
itself so odious, that it always shocks us when
fairly seen. In another's case nothing hinders
our observation, and many things concur to
engage our attention : in our own, self-love either
gilds the vice, so as to give it some faint re
semblance of virtue ; or, on the other hand, so
clouds it, as to make its deformity evanid and
indistinct. This self-delusion is the subject of our Saviour's
censure, which is equally directed to the hearer
and the teacher. The hearer he severely up
braids, where he says, " Why beholdest thou the
mote that is in thy brother's eye, but perceivest
not the beam that is in thine own eye ?" And
to his reproof of the teacher, he subjoins this
direction : " How wilt thou say to thy brother,
brother, let me puU out the mote that is in thine
eye, when thou thyself beholdest not the beam

to THE CLERGY OF GLOUCESTER. 349
that is in thine own eye ? Thou hypocrite ! first
cast out the beam that is in thine own eye, and
then shalt thou see clearly to pull out the mote
that is in thy brother's eye,"*
The present occasion invites us to turn our
thoughts upon this reproof and direction to the
ministers of rehgion, from whence it may be
gathered that these pupils of the great physician
of the soul must, in order to render their
spiritual prescriptions successful, begin with them
selves, and practice upon their own disorders.
" Physician cure thyself,"-^- being the formulary
which nature prompted the patient to address to
his physician when he observed this previous
self-discipHne had been neglected.
What I shaU, then, my Reverend Brethren,
attempt to shew you is, that without this home
preparation, I . We shaU never gain that confidence in our
spiritual patients, which is necessary to dispose
them to co-operate with our endeavours in the
cure of their disorders. And secondly,
2, That though we should be so fortunate to
gain their good-will, yet our ignorance in the
methods of curing moral disorders would render
our ministry vain and fruitless.
For there are two requisites in the art of heal
ing ; the one is the patient's good opinion of his
physician; and the other, the physician's ex-
* Matthew, c. vii. v, 3, 4, 5, f Luke, c, iv, v, 23,

350 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
perience and knowledge of the patient's case, both
of which our spiritual oculist in the text must
needs want.
To consider these in their order.
I. The patient's good opinion of his physician,
must arise from a confidence, either of his honesty
or his skill, or indeed of both.
His honesty must stand on the truth of his
professions, that love of his neighbour and hatred
of vice are the sole motives of his officious
charity. But now, the love of his neighbour could never
operate so imperfectly as to make the mute in his
eye the sole subject of his care, while he neglected
the beam in his own. A compassionate concern
for our neighbour, necessarily implies a sense of
the vast benefit we would assist him to procure.
But here the common proverb takes place, that
charity begins at home; and had we that vast
sense of it, we should first of all turn our care
upon our own more deplorable condition. The
precept of loving our neighbour as ourselves, can
never, sure, be so grossly mistaken as to signify
the loving him before ourselves ; or rather indeed
instead of ourselves. Ourselves are the measure
of our love of our neighbour, and therefore tiU
this measure be first fixed by an operation on
ourselves, we never shall be able to apply it to
our neighbour.
Neither can it be the hatred of vice that engages

TO THE CLERGY OF GLOUCESTER, 351
men thus circumstanced in this charitable office.
For did we truly hate sin, we should never suffer
it to abide unmolested in ourselves.
The rise and spring of hatred to any object,
proceeds from the sense of evil felt, or the rational
grounds of evil apprehended. Real hatred of vice,
therefore, must first arise from the evil we have
found it to produce in ourselves, and the evil we
know it is stiU ready to produce. But whatever
we hate, we shun and avoid as the cause of pain,
abhorrent to our nature. So that did we indeed
hate vice, as such, we should not have afforded it
entertainment at first, or we should have given it
no quiet, after its surreptitious entrance. Again,
our hatred to any object is always in proportion
to the quantity and degree of evil it hath caused,
or is ready to cause in us. Now though each
particular hath his share in the evil of vice, where
soever it is found, because vice is destructive to
society, and to our common nature, yet every
man's own vice is principally and more imme
diately destructive to himself. Of all vice, there
fore, he who cordiaUy hates it as an evil must
hate his own the most.
Let no minister or teacher of the Word deceive
himself, or imagine he can deceive others, in this
matter. His flock will never be persuaded, that
such an one sets himself on work either out of love
to them or hatred to sin, while his love to himself
hath not yet induced him to break his confederacy

352 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
with vice. They will rather think, that his de
clamations against iniquity are words of course;
which his profession, his office, and his spiritual
relation to them, obliges him to repeat in public
from time to time. And if, as is his duty, he
chances to be more particular in his occasional
application to their moral disorders, he wiU escape
well if they do not ascribe to him (under the cover
of an attention to his pastoral care), the gratifica
tion of a pragmatic humour, which loves to pry
into the disorders of their families, only to indulge
a vicious curiosity ; — he wiU escape well, I say,
if they do not call it malice or malignity, which
feeds on the detection of hidden faults and ble
mishes, and rejoices in another's shame and mor
tification. At best, they wiU laugh at his care as
excited by a superstitious fancy, that he may atone
for his own faults by a pitiless severity towards
those faihngs under which his flock labours. Thus
it comes to pass, that we make the Word of God
of none effect through our foolishness.
II. But should the ministers of the Gospel,
(and it is the other point which I proposed to
consider,) be so fortunate as to gain the good
opinion of their fiock, yet ignorance, under these
circumstances, in the method of curing moral dis
orders, would render their ministry vain and fruit
less. For let us now' suppose all prejudices against
him to be removed, and those under his direction

TO THE CLERGY OF GLOUCESTER. 353
ready to become his patients ; how wUl he set
about the cure ? In the relief of bodily disorders,
the human frame in general, and the peculiar
constitution of each several patient, must be care
fuUy studied. And yet the body, contrived to
subsist by the certain and unvariable laws of
mechanism, is an easy subject of comprehension,
in comparison of that of the mind, — the immortal
and free principle within us, which the spiritual
physician has to keep in order ; the mind, whose
cause of action is from itself, unsubjected to the
Jaws of matter and motion, in which the senses,
passions and appetites, like so many wheels of its
own making and construction, occasion the most
complicate and perplexed motions, irregular and
inconstant. The science of man, therefore, is
not knowledge but conjecture. Yet of this
science, such as it is, the faithful minister of the
Word should make himself master before he can
pretend to practice upon spiritual disorders.
For vice, as it was introduced, so it reigns in
man, only by the aid and contrivance of the
passions, which, by a thousand artful pretences,
betray us to the enemy, or cabal and confederate
with him against us. To subdue vice, therefore,
all the agitations of the more violent, all the
tricks of the cooler passions, are to be studied and
got by heart : a difficult and growing labour.
But how shall that blind pastor, who himself
continues a slave to his vices, have either vigour
2 A

354 CHARGES AND SERMONS,
to attempt, or penetration to detect the source
of the evUs of this kind,— how vice began its
attack, — how it advanced,— and how at length
it got a lodgment within us.
To attempt, therefore, the cure of those com
mitted to our care, without such knowledge and
experience, is only the presumption of a quack and
empiric. If his knowledge extends not to the me
mory of what passion it was that first betrayed
him; what external accident it was which first
favoured the unheeded entrance of vice ; how shall
he be able to set a guard upon that passion, or
fortity the mind against the like accidents ? The
experience of such an untaught minister, will be
as defective as his knowledge. To eradicate
vicious habits, is a work of so much difficulty,
that the prophets of the old law compare it to
things impossible, " Can the Ethiopian change
his skin ? or the leopard his spots ? Then may ye
do good, who are accustomed to do evil."* The
great Prophet of the new law, indeed, has rendered
that possible by grace, which the other deemed
impossible by nature. But still it is a work of
infinite difficulty ; and only to be brought about
by the most attentive observance of the state and
disposition of the human mind, by remarking the
several degrees of usurpation to which the passions
are arrived ; the habits those passions have settled
in the heart ; and the prejudices and false reason-
* Jeremiah, c. xiii. v. 23.

TO THE CLERGY OF GLOUCESTER. 355
ings those habits have brought the understanding
to take up with. But as these things are to be
gained no otherwise than by refiecting on what
passes in our own mind ; and by an internal ex
perience arising out of that reflection ; and as we
advance in the knowledge of ourselves only in
proportion to our labour in the reformation of our
Hves, it is utterly impossible that he who hath not
worked this home cure, — this recovery of him
self, — should ever be able to assist others in the
removal of their disorders.
For in the cure of mental diseases, where
(besides the nature of free agency in that principle,
which makes its operations infinitely various and
discordant,) ideas of things are not to be gained
by analogy to other ideas, but by the very sen
sations themselves, another man's experience can
do us no more service than the experience which
a seeing man hath gained of the objects of sight
can enable him to convey adequate ideas of such
objects to a man bom bhnd.
How, for instance, shaU any one who has never
tried to subdue his passions by the severe applica
tion of reason and rehgion, know what effect this
conflict must have on a patient who is wiUing to
try the experiment ? And yet from the know
ledge of this very thing depends aU our success
in our spiritual practice; because the extraordi
nary and tumultuous state of the mind, during the
struggle between the disease and the remedy, must
2 A 2

356 CHARGES AND SERMONS,
have such peculiar aids and supports administered
to it, as may enable the mind to conquer the
difficulties through which in that state it is to
labour. But to shew more fully that no acquirements in
philosophy, no advancements in theology, while
resting only in theory, will avaU in our attempts to
cure the moral disorders of our flock, let us attend
to the usual success of one best gifted and en
dowed with this speculative knowledge only.
Such a one has, we will suppose, by a long and
learned discipline, been initiated in all the
mysteries concerning human nature. He hath
traced up the celestial origin of the soul; found
it to rise above matter, and to be the author of
its own motion. He hath studied all the effects
of its union with a mortal body ; he hath analysed
its operations ; and investigated its various facul
ties : he hath taken the height of the imagination ;
measured the extent of the understanding, and
weighed and balanced the passions. To so much
knowledge and experience, one would think, no
disease or malady to which the human mind is
subject, could long remain obstinate or intractable.
But, alas ! if his own heart be not set right, and
put in order by a careful self-discipline ; if, whUe
he exhorts others to vigilance, to victory, by a
continual struggle and combat with their vices,
he himself lies a prey to his appetites, — a dupe
to pleasure, a slave to avarice, — or the creature

TO THE CLERGY OF GLOUCESTER, 357
of ambition, — we aU see how mean, and he himself
wiU soon find how ineffectual, a trust he has
taken upon himself to discharge on the most
serious and important theatre of human life, — the
care of other men's salvation.
Permit me, therefore, my reverend brethren,
charitably to remind you of what the enemies of
all godliness will otherwise be sure to insult you
with, that ancient proverb, "physician, heal thy-
self"

358

A CHARGE ON THE STUDY OF THEOLOGY,
(unfinished,)

My Reverend Brethren,
These appointed assemblies of the Bishop and
his clergy had these two purposes — to enforce his
exhortations to the discharge of their parochial
duty, and to receive their advices for the good
government of his diocese. This latter part,
whether through the modesty of the clergy, or
the sufficiency of the diocesan, has grown into
disuse ; and our assembly has been so entirely
spent in the other, that the discourses from this
place have got the general name of charge ; im
plying that the common subject of them all was
the enforcing the duty of the pastoral care ; and
this has been so constantly observed, that, whatever
other subject was occasionally handled, it was such
an one as tended to enable us to the better dis
charge of that duty, whether it concerned the
morals of the minister, his learning and know
ledge, or his establishment in the orthodox faith.
With a constant eye to this have all discourses

on the study of theology, 359
from this place been directed, and therefore with
great propriety have got the common name of
CHARGE : not as a lord chargeth his servant, but,
to use the words of St, Paul to the Church of
Thessalonica, " as a father doth his children."
( 1 Thess. ii. 1 1 .) And very deservedly ; for, as
ministers of the Church of Christ, the pastoral
care is the end, — personal morals, and the accom
plishments of literature and orthodoxy, only the
means towards it. Let me, therefore, my beloved
brethren, in the first place exhort you, in the
warmest and most earnest manner, to the diligent
and faithful discharge of this great and character
istic duty.
In addressing ourselves to the discharge of any
important duty, these inquiries come early into
our consideration,— how it may be done with most
efficacy, safety, and sobriety ? In this of the pas
toral care, our own good morals most of all facili
tate our labours ; the soundness of our faith
prevents us from labouring in vain ; and the
knowledge of our profession keeps them from
degenerating into any of those species of fanati
cism, whether spiritual or literary, which so much
dishonour both the law and the Gospel.
And as this latter, the true knowledge of our
profession, is the best security I know of against
the prevalent follies of this kind, I will venture to
offer my ad\dce in some directions for the study
of divinity, which I presume only to address to

360 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
you, the younger part of my brethren ; the elder
being fitter to give, however ready they may be to
receive, advice upon this subject ; and to them I
might well commit this care of instructing their
younger brethren, but that it may possibly come
from this place with somewhat greater authority.
But on my entrance on this subjest, — directions
for the study of divinity, — it will be proper to ex
plain to you what I mean by the term ; that is, the
most perfect knowledge which by human study
can be procured of the truths contained in the
books of the Old and New Testaments. All arti
ficial theology, other than what is the natural and
necessary result from these truths, I neither re
commend to your favour, nor would obtrude into
your acquaintance, further than to enable you to
detect their impostures.
In the prosecution of my subject I shaU have
these two things principally in view, — to make the
study easy and the means cheap. By directing
you to the best writers on every subject, I shall
abridge your labour by contracting the number ;
I shall lessen the expense by that number's con
sisting only of the selected few ; for the capital
books of real learning and genius are by their mul
tiplied editions generally purchased at a very easy
rate. A Jove principium has here a pecuHar propriety.
We must begin with the first principles in which
are laid the foundation of religion, or what more

ON THE STUDY OF THEOLOGY. 361
properly constitute the thing itself; I mean God
and the soul ; for aU revealed rises on natural
religion, and natural religion from the relation
between the creature and the Creator.
Our first inquiry, therefore, wiU be into the ex
istence of these two parts of the inteUectual sys
tem; and then, whether the nature of each of
them be such, that from thence religion in the
received meaning of the word can subsist ? for if
neither of these were in being, religion could have
no beginning ; and if God were partial and capri
cious in his nature, or the soul tied down to the
laws of fate by its condition ; religion could have
no continuance, as reward for well-doing could
neither be expected nor deserved : for thus St
Paul reasons ; He that cometh to God, (i, e,, he
who professeth rehgion) must believe that He is,
and that he is a rewarder — of whom ? — of them
that diligently seek Him, (i. e. of men endowed
with freedom of wiU.)
The existence of atheism, or whether it had
ever in fact got possession of the human mind,
could not, I suppose, have become a doubt
amongst serious men, had it not been from their
imbibing in the schools the absurd principle of
innate ideas ; of which the being of God must
needs be the first. So that a philosophical de
duction from an imaginary principle made men,
as is not unusual, conclude against the testimony
and experience of aU ages. Bad philosophy had

362 CHARGES AND SERMONS,
made some men atheists, and then again bad
philosophy made others call in question the very
existence of such a kind of monster. And this
doubt Hcentious writers have of late been forward
enough to encourage, and for as monstrous a
purpose. It was, indeed, to keep hid one species
of atheism, which they themselves are industrious
to propagate, — that which denies a moral governor
of the world. For the late advancements in the
knowledge of nature have so totally routed the
grosser atheism, that the enemies of religion
have entrenched themselves in the more refined,
where, by reason that our advances in moral
knowledge have not kept pace with those in
natural, they yet shelter themselves from those
disgraces that now attend the profession of the
other. God is to the soul of man what the sun is to
the earth, without whose existence it would be
shut up in eternal night, and without whose in
fluence it would be locked up in eternal frost.
His existence, therefore, and his moral govern
ment, are truths that you must well establish in
your mind. And equal to their importance is
the force of their evidence; they being to be
demonstrated both a priori and a posteriori, as
they speak. Of the first kind you may be amply
furnished by Cudworth, in his Intellectual System,
and by Clarke in his Discourses on the Being of a
God. In the latter you will meet with every

ON THE STUDY OF THEOLOGY. 363
thing that the most solid metaphysical reasoning
can supply ; and in the former, together with
that, the whole history of ancient, and I had
almost said, modern atheism, developed with a
clearness, a penetration, an abundance, and a
superiority of just and manly criticism, that will
entitle it to your most careful study. — If you
would see the demonstration of the same truth
a posteriori, instead of recommending to you any
of those discourses, such as Nieuentit, Ray,
Derham, the Abbe Pluche, &c. which all have
their merit, as collecting their evidence of this
great truth from the late wonderful discoveries in
experimental physics, I would rather you had
recourse to the authors of those great discoveries
themselves ; from whence you will collect with
greater pleasure, and perhaps with greater force,
certainly more forcibly impressed, the conse
quences demonstrative of this great truth.
On this account, I would recommend to your
careful study, the popular explanations of Sir
Isaac Newton's philosophy by Pemberton and
Maclaurin, especially the former, not only because
it comprises the whole of that divine person's
discoveries, which the other has not done, but
has explained that philosophy in so happy and
superior a way, that a scholar, and one accus
tomed to abstract reasoning, as the student just
come from Cudworth and Clarke must needs be,
wiU be able, without much mathematics, to under-

364 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
stand all the wonders of the solar system, as
perfectly as the most able geometrician. I say
the wonders of the Deity as well, though by no
means wiU he have so perfect a conception of the
wonderful force of that divine genius, the bright
est emanation of the Deity, who laid open his
works to the praise and adoration of mankind.
And then it may not be improper, to justify the
projects and execution of these men, to read a
little posthumous tract written by Sir Isaac
Newton himself on this subject in the popular
way, and which he first intended to be published
in the Principia
But as Creation and Providence appears to man
no less in the smaUest works of creation than in
the largest, and his footsteps are traced in the
formation of the smallest insect, as weU as in the
course of the planets, I would recommend to
your serious perusal, the history of insects by
that celebrated French naturalist, Reaumur, whose
wonderful industry, application, and acumen can
never be sufficiently admired.
The next knowledge of importance to the
religionist, after the study of the Deity, is the
knowledge of himself, as a rational and an ac
countable creature. And the first question is
[respecting] that which is called mind, in which
his rational faculties reside : whether it be a
substantial being, distinct from his body, and of a
different nature, united to it at present by some

ON THE STUDY OF THEOLOGY. 365
unaccountable tie ; or whether it be only a
quality resulting from some peculiar organization
of body ? Locke had entered upon this inquiry,
but pushed it no further than to this conclusion, —
that the phoenomena of the mind cannot be ac
counted for from any of the discoverable pro
perties of matter, or solid extended substance ;
and, therefore, that it was only in the highest
degree probable, that the soul was a substance
of another nature, namely immaterial. But Clarke,
and above all Baxter, pushed this inquiry much
further ; and by the assistance, not of meta
physics, but of Sir Isaac Newton's physics, have
demonstrated the soul to be an immaterial sub
stance. "They drew their conclusion, not on
the presumption that they knew all the knowable
qualities of matter, and that between these and
thought there was no perceivable connexion, but
from this clear and solid truth, that, from the
little we do know of body, we see a contradiction
in supposing intelligence to be a quality of matter.
For thus they reasoned: though we know not
all the powers of matter, yet we know certainly
it cannot have inconsistent and contradictory
powers. It is allowed to have essentially a vis
inerti(e, or that it resists a change of its state ; it
is impossible, therefore, that it should at the same
time have spontaneous motion, or effect a change
of its state. If this be the case, (and to deny
that it is the case is confounding all the prin-

366 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
ciples of human knowledge,) then it is impossible
the soul should be material."*
These two writers, and especially the latter,
will be worth a careful study. The books I mean
to recommend are Clarke's Answers to Collins ;
and Baxter on the Nature of the Soul, together
with his Answer to some strictures of Maclaurin.
The next question will be concerning this im
material substance. Is it an agent properly ? or,
in other words, is it free ? For a being destitute
of freedom, we apprehend, can be no subject of
religion, that is, have merit or demerit. A less
reason than this very important one, would not
be sufficient to engage you in so intricate, so
obscure, and so large a field of controversy ; nor
is it my purpose to have you lost in it, though it
be of so much concern to have it determined.
There are two Httle tracts,-|- but master-pieces in
their kind, which, if well studied, will be fully
sufficient to make you masters of the subject,
and to secure you against all the sophistry and
chicanery employed to deprive you of the best
part of your manhood, I mean your freedom.
When you have gone thus far into the know
ledge of these great principles, you wiU meet
with something resulting from them ready to
stop your course, something that has embarrassed
* Quoted from his own " View of Lord Bohngbroke's
Philosophy," Works, vol. vii. p. 627. 4to edit.
\ These the Bishop has unfortunately omitted to name.

ON THE STUDY OF THEOLOGY. 367
all the inquirers of the ages past, and wiU pro
bably disturb those of the ages to come ; for men
have never been disposed to separate those things
which are not the proper subjects of human con
templation, from those which are : what I mean
is, of the origin of evil. If God be all-good and
all-powerful, how did it arise and exist ? But
the irreligionist, with the malice to embarrass, and
the religionist, with the vanity of doing what no
one was able to do before, has been always for
ward in writing upon this subject, — a secret
residing amongst the arcana of the Godhead. A
man who, with a real design of serving religion,
thinks he can solve the difficulty, and that the
solving it is necessary to secure the foundations of
religion, will deserve our double pity, for he is
doubly deceived. He must know Httle of phi
losophy who fancies he can solve the difficulty.
He must know less of religion, who fancies that
the want of it can affect our belief in God.
The sober Divine, therefore, will be ashamed to
want the prudence of a good poet,
 " Quid valeant humeri, quid ferre recusent,"

and wiU go on with his more useful and important
enquiries. Having well digested these important truths
of the soul's substantiality and freedom, he will be
well-disposed to have a more minute acquaintance
with the nature of its faculties and operations, on

368 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
a true knowledge of which depends all his future
progress in all human and divine science, com
prised under the general name of theology. It
wiU teach him to distinguish real from imaginary
knowledge, certain from uncertain, useful from
unconcerning. And this wUl be gained by the
famed " Essay on the Human Understanding ;"
which, therefore, I would recommend you, not
as it was recommended in the course of your
education, but " versare manu," &c. Nor will
it be unfruitful to you to examine well aU those
pieces of the same great author, whether con
troversial or otherwise, that have a relation to this
work. Understanding now the true nature, the faculties,
and the operations of the human mind, you are
qualified to enter on those studies that concern
human devoirs, comprised under the common
name of Ethics 

369
SERMON I.
HUMILITY.
[Preached before the King, Oct. 30, 1757.]
1 Peter, v. 5.
Be clothed with Humility.
The two constituent parts of the new man of
the Gospel-creation are, faith and humility. The
inward part is what St. Paul terms the spirit of
faith : and the outward what his fellow-labourer
St. Peter, here calls the clothing of humility.
And both the doctrine and the practice are so pe
cuHar to the Christian ordinance, that humility
was till now as little understood to make a part of
virtue, as faith a part of religion. And therefore
there is great elegance in the literal expression of
the original, which bids us to put on humility for
a badge, as was the custom in ancient times
among servants, that it might be known to whom
they belonged.
The instructors of the civilised world at that
time were the Greek philosophers and the Jewish
priests. Amongst the former, pride and self-conceit was
so much the badge of every sect and party, that at
length it became the distinguishing mark of Gre
cian wisdom. 2 B

370 SERMONS AND CHARGES.
Amongst the Jews, their separation from the
rest of mankind, and their selection for God's
peculiar people ; their own rational worship, and
the blind idolatry of their neighbours ; filled them
with all kind of carnal and spiritual pride, which
too naturaUy inclined them to hate and despise all
others. This was the state and temper of the most en
lightened parts of the unbelieving world, when
Jesus came to rectify the universal depravity of
morals amongst men.
And foreseeing that the inestimable benefits
and high prerogatives of the Gospel would pro-
portionably inflame this unclean spirit of pride, he
frequently repeats the lesson of my text, but never
with such tenderness and affection, as when he
invites us to partake with him in the honour of his
example. Learn of me (says the Saviour of the
world), for I am meek and lowly in heart.* But
he joins our highest interest to this honour ; for he
makes humility the only road and entrance into
the kingdom of glory.
And aU this was no more than sufficient to com
bat pride, this pest of humanity. For every ad
vantage of our nature and condition, which so
naturally stimulate the seeds of pride and vanity,
aU centered in the professors of Christ's religion.
They were become, like the Jews, the select and
* Matt. xi. 29.

HUMILITY. 371
chosen people of God ; and appointed, like the
Gentile sages (but by a much higher authority),
for public instructors and examples to mankind.
Add to this those other circumstances of their
importance ; that the eternal Son of God suffered
for their redemption, and the Holy Ghost was
sent down for their sanctification. Who, at the
same time that he purified the hearts of the faith
ful, strengthened their hands by every kind of su
pernatural power; such as the gift of tongues,
inspired knowledge of divine mysteries, insight into
futurity, and the subdual of nature in the miracu
lous relief of the bodily infirmities of their bre
thren. These were such flattering prerogatives,
and set the first foUowers of Christ so much above
the common level of mankind, that it was no
wonder if some amongst them should be apt to
regard all below them with contempt. And in fact,
we find from several passages in St. Paul's Epistles,
and particularly from that celebrated encomium
on charity in his 1st to the Corinthians, that even
the largest profusion of supernatural graces did
not secure them from spiritual arrogance and
pride. So far as to the peculiar expediency of this pre
cept of humility at the time it was delivered.
The general reasonableness of enforcing it at aU
times comes next to be considered.
The first and strongest motive to humility in man
is his reflection on the rank and station which he
2 B 2

372 SERMONS AND CHARGES.
bears in the intellectual world : apparently, the
lowest in the reasonable system. For how small a
distance do we find between the faculties of the
dullest men, and those of the more sagacious ani
mals ! How much in common does man hold
with his fellow-creatures of the field ! The same
mode of generation ; the same means of nutrition
and support ; and many even of the same appe
tites and instincts : in these inferior to the brutes,
who never trangress those bounds which nature
has set them ; whereas man has the miserable
prerogative of turning his appetites into crimes,
and his instincts into misery.
But we need not this comparison for our humi
liation. What each man feels and experiences of
his own personal infirmities, both in body and
mind, sufficiently instructs him in his own abject
condition. We bear about us a frail and brittle
body ; obnoxious to all the elements ; subject to
the most trifling accidents from without ; and a
continual prey to the overgrowth or defect of
every humour and complexion from within : nay,
even in the support of Hfe itself, we are betrayed
by intemperance into the very jaws of death, and
made a prey to the most dire and excruciating dis
eases. And if, haply, by the peculiar felicity of
fortune, or a more robust frame of constitution, we
escape these disasters and evils of our nature, yet,
in the fleeting period of 70 or 80 years, humanity
itself gives way, and falls a victim to inexorable

HUMILITY. 373
Time; whose approaches, when least rugged,
bring with them the most disgraceful ravages on
our frame and faculties ; a decrepid body and an
enfeebled mind, stiU more and more assimilating
us to that earth to which, in our descent towards
it, we are so fast returning.*
The natural or infiicted debility of the human
mind still affords us further matter for the pro
foundest humiliation. Its agency, in which con
sists the excellence of man, Hes in judging and
willing : and as these operations of the mind are
well or ill performed, we rise in knowledge and
virtue, or sink into vice and error.
But the history and experience of all ages have
shewn us how unable unassisted man is, either to
discover truth, or to discharge his duty. The most
evident of all truths is the being of one God, the
Creator and Governor of the Universe ; yet by sad
and shameful experience it appears, that, from the
most early ages of a degenerate world to this pre
sent, no nation or people, whether barbarous or
civil, by the mere exercise of reason, assisted with
all their senses, could ever discover this most noto
rious and sensible of aU truths ; but, instead of the
God in whom we live, and move, and have our
* A melancholy interest is given to this fine passage by the
consideration that, for more than two years before his death, the
powerful mind of its author was reduced to the distressing state he
here so forcibly describes. — Edit.

374 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
being,* who is incessantly working for our pre
servation in, near, and round about us, they trans
ferred their worship, and bowed down in divine
adoration to the memories of miserable man, to
beasts, to insects, to stocks, to stones, and
shadows. And while the original and foundation of all
duty, God the Creator and Preserver, thus re
mained unknown, we can hardly believe man less
unhappy in his practice, than in his creed ; for the
will and understanding always affect and influence
one another. And here again the history of man
kind informs us, that what St. Paul affirms of his
own age and time, was true of all ; that when men
had changed the glory of the incorruptible God
to an image made like to corruptible man, as they
did not like to retain God in their knowledge. He
gave them over to a reprobate mind, to the conta
gion of aU those unnatul'al crimes which foUow in
the Apostle's catalogue.
So that this miserable condition of benighted
man, which made those who had received the light
of the Gospel so proud and vain, ought rather to
have been the subject of their deepest humiliation :
if, especially, they had considered that this light
had discovered to them circumstances stiU more
mortifying to human pride ; such as the sudden faU
of man from life and immortality to death and
* Acts, xvii. 28.

HUMILITY. 375
misery, by the sUliest and least excusable of aU
transgressions. And when the time was come for
his restoration to his lost inheritance by the death
and passion of Christ, such has God declared to
be our miserable incapacity of keeping what we
were again restored to, on the old condition of an
inviolable obedience to his command, that he gra
ciously changed the terms of this restored /ree
gift of immortality into faith in his blessed Son ;
something to be believed instead of something to
be practised ; which, in this wise age, is held by
many to be a condition still too hard.
All this, as it must needs raise and inflame our
gratitude to the sole Author of all good, so it can
not, when duly thought upon, but induce us to
abate proportionably in the high opinion of our
selves, mortify human pride, and draw us into that
wholesome discipline of humility which reason and
religion concur to tell us is so proper for our station.
But the glorious example of the blessed Author
of our redemption ought most strongly to dispose
us to the exercise of the virtue of humility. When
the Son of God condescended to assume the abject
condition of our nature, he subjected himself in all
things to the dishonour of that degrading state,
and in his whole deportment and conversation
adapted himself to the infirmities of that huma
nity which he was sent to redeem. Now, in the
exercise of aU those virtues of which he gave so
perfect a pattern, none shone with more distin-

376 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
guished lustre than his humility ; manifesting it
self in a lowly birth; in voluntary poverty; in the
patient bearing of injuries, and contradiction of
sinners ; in popular reproach ; and in familiar
converse with the most despised of his country
men. Now, if the blessed Jesus thought this a conduct
best suited to that nature which he was pleased to
partake with us, though partaking of it in its best
condition, in a freedom from sin, and ennobhng it
with the highest dignity, the joining it in strict
union with the Divinity ; what ought to be our sen
timents of lowliness of mind ! miserable dust and
ashes as we are ! obnoxious in each motion to every
natural, and in each sentiment to every moral
evil. Here it is we should chiefly labour to show
ourselves the disciples of a crucified Saviour ;
divest ourselves of every vain and swelling imagi
nation ; and be possessed with a true and lasting
sense of our miserable insignificancy and emp
tiness. Nor is the use of this virtue of humility less
considerable than its reasonableness and expedi
ency. The immediate fruits of our holy religion
in this vale of misery are truth and peace ; and
these no Christian virtue so largely contributes to
promote as humility.
The great impediments to truth are the irascible
passions and appetites. Vanity keeps us in igno
rance, through the empty conceit of knowing

HUMILITY, 377
already : pride makes us adopt our own pre
judiced fancies for truths : and obstinacy keeps us
enslaved both to our ignorance and our errors.
Now all these obstacles humility does not barely
remove ; but, by inculcating to us the sense of
human blindness, quickens our industry and ap
plication ; makes us cautious what we embrace for
truth ; diffident of its evidence, and always ready
disposed to have its foundations examined and re
viewed : qualities without which no real know
ledge or advancement in truth can be expected.
Human peace (the other fruit of humilityj is
disturbed and violated, either by unfavourable ap
pearances in the dispensations of Providence ; or
by the misfortunes and miseries we ourselves
labour under.
The ways of Providence are at present dark and
intricate. We frequently see good men affiicted,
and the bad prosperous, and, in appearance,
happy ; a dispensation too apt to create doubts
and difficulties in the minds of the observers ;
and, if they feel themselves affected, to raise dis
quiets and murmurs against the order of things ;
and sometimes even to [make themj distrust the
sovereign support and Protector of our being : a
state of mind the most terrible and accursed. Now
humility is the instant cure of these disquiets ;
it makes us sensible of our folly in pretending to
judge of God's government, from the utter impos
sibility of comprehending or conceiving the na-

378 CHARGES AND SERMONS,
ture and extent of His dominion. Reason, at the
same time, discovering, by the clearest evidence,
His justice and goodness, humility wiU distrust its
own suspicions, condemn them as false and ground
less, and, with full assurance, conclude that all
we see or feel is for the best, and with perfect
peace and confidence repose itself under the sha
dow of the Almighty,
Humility wiU have the same efficacy in support
ing us under the misfortunes and miseries to which
human life is subject ; for, how severely soever the
hand of God may lie upon us, we shall then under
stand it to be far short of our demerits : and when we
reflect it is the hand of God upon his servants, the
professors of the religion of his Son, we shaU un
derstand it is either the salutary trial and exercise
of our virtue, or a fatherly correction for our
follies. And thus humility will produce patience,
that celestial balm of hurt minds, which takes out
the sting of all natural evil, and preserves the suf
ferer in that divine state of peace which passeth
all understanding.*
But human peace is chiefly violated by our own
mutual follies ; and of this violation humility is
the most certain preventive, as it neither gives nor
lightly takes offence. Humility, which never sets
itself in competition with others, cuts off aU the
provocations which men have to invade the fame,
* Phil, iv, 7,

HUMILITY. 379
the fortune, or the pursuits of their neighbours ;
from whence arise almost aU the quarrels and dis
sensions amongst men. On the contrary, the humble
man thinking lowly of himself, and, consequently,
charitably of his neighbour (for having no rivalship
with others he has no prejudices against them), he
gains the good wUl and ready assistance of all men.
Thus is humUity (besides its propriety ar^d fitness
for the abject state of humanity) the largest source
of truth and peace — the two greatest blessings here
below, and the necessary preparation for our hap
piness above.

380

SERMON II.
CHRISTIAN OBEDIENCE.
[Preached before the Princess, Oct, 17, 1756.]
1 John, c. ii. v. 4.
He that saith i know Him, and keepeth not His
COMMANDMENTS, IS A Ll AR, AND THE TRUTH IS NOT IN HIM.
It appears from the literal meaning of these
words, that the persons here hinted at and con
demned, were not such as transgressed the com
mandments of our Lord and only Saviour Jesus
Christ, in the ordinary way of sinners, through
the weakness and inability of our corrupt nature ;
but such as neglected and despised those com
mands upon false principles of a superior know
ledge. And, in fact, we understand from the
history of the primitive times, that there was a
sect or heresy in the Christian Church, caUed the
Gnostics, or Knowers, who pretended to a more
profound knowledge of the nature of God, and
the constitution of things ; and under these false
presumptions ran into all kinds of impious and
wicked practice. Against thescj then, the Apostle's
invective is here directed. — "He that saith I
know Him, and keepeth not His commandments,
is a liar."

CHRISTIAN OBEDIENCE. 381
The words contain this proposition : that these
transgressors of the commandments of Jesus,
falsely arrogate to themselves a superior know
ledge of their Lord and Master, while they are
entirely ignorant of him ;— which I shaU now
endeavour to shew.
I. There are three ways of coming to the
knowledge of Christ : by his nature ;— by his
works in the flesh ; — and by his operations
through the Holy Spirit. Now it will appear
that whoever hath attained a knowledge of God
by any of these three ways, can never fall into
the erroneous opinion, that He will dispense
with his followers for neglecting or violating His
commandments : and that, consequently, who
ever thinks he may do so with impunity, what
ever boasts he may make of his superior know
ledge in religion, is, indeed, entirely ignorant of
it. 1, If we search the Scriptures for a know
ledge of Christ by his nature, we shall find that
St, John calls him the Word, and assures us that
that Word was God. St, Paul, in his epistle to the
Ephesians, says, that God hath given to Jesus the
highest dominion, and hath put all thinys under his
feet.* Which shews that, together with this
dominion, and final judicature, the Father hath
conferred upon, and imparted to the Son, all his
* Heb, c, ii, v. 8,

382 CHARGES AND SERMONS,
communicable attributes. Now if from the
nature of the Divinity we can collect, as we
certainly may, that God will exact of man a strict
observance of his will and commandments, (his
attributes not suffering Him to indulge men in
sin and wickedness,) then we must needs con
clude that his only begotten Son Jesus, who is
partaker of these attributes, and the delegate of
that rule and dominion, requires the same
obedience to His will. The consequence there
fore is, that he who transgresses this will, and
yet believes himself in favour with his Lord and
Master, is entirely ignorant of Him,
2. With regard to Jesus's works in the flesh.
He was ordained by the Father to be the pro
pitiation for the sins of the world, by offering
himself a sacrifice on the cross, as a ransom for
our redemption. And had this been a perfectly
free and unconditional mercy, that was all our
Redeemer had to do upon earth ; but, as repent
ance and a consequent good Hfe were as necessary
as faith to entitle us to this salvation. He was
graciously pleased to provide for that likewise,
not only by his Preaching, but by the example
of his life and conversation ; in the course of
which. He put in perfect practice every divine,
and social and human virtue. Now why was this
condescension in the Son of God, to dwell amongst
us, and to converse with miserable man, if not
to promote and enforce the observance of his will,

CHRISTIAN OBEDIENCE. 383
by setting us an example and perfect pattern of
obedience to the Divine commands? Whoever,
therefore, thinks himself at liberty to transgress
this wiU and command, and yet pretends himself
a true disciple of Christ, doth not know Him by
his works in the fiesh .- and, therefore, under this
view, likewise, is a liar, when he says he knows
Him. 3. But further, Jesus, to secure the observance
of his commands, and the interests of virtue, had
no sooner finished this perfect copy of his
example, but, on leading the world. He sent, as
he had before promised, the Comforter, the Holy
Spirit; whose principal office it was, to cleanse
and purify the hearts of his followers from all the
corruption of sin, and to prepare them for the
culture and exercise of all kind of purity and
virtue. Thus St. James describes Him, "the
wisdom that is from above, is first pure— full of
mercy and good fruits."* Now, this divine person
being sent into the hearts of the faithful, in
order to enable them to perform the command
ments of their Lord and Master, sufficiently
declares his mind, with regard to the obedience
He expects from his followers. Whoever, there
fore, wilfuUy neglects his commands on a pre
sumption that they do nothing displeasing to Him,
do not know Him by the operations of the Holy
* James, c. iii. v. 17.

384 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
Spirit, and, in the words of my text, are liars, when
they say they do.
II. But the common practice of sinners is less
philosophical, though not less absurd, than that
of the ancient Gnostics ; and they discover their
ignorance of their Lord and Master in all the
three ways above explained, and may be properly
divided into as many classes.
1. The first and foremost in ignorance are
those who know not Jesus, even so much as by
his nature ; and venture to transgress his com
mands by one or other of these absurd conceits ;
such as, 1 . Those who hope to keep their actions
hid from Him. These must be entirely ignorant
of that divine attribute, his Omniscience. 2.
Others there are, who think He careth not for
man, neither is man in all His thoughts. But
these are plainly ignorant of that attribute, his
goodness; which the Psalmist thinks manifests
itself most illustriously in his care and kindness
to man. " For Thou hast made him, says he, little
lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with
glory and honour."* 3. Again there are others
who think human actions indifferent to him.
And these appear quite ignorant of his eternal
rectitude and purity. Holy Job says, " Behold
even to the moon, and it shineth not ; yea the stars
are not pure in His sight. "•\- 4. Others, again,
* Psalm, c. viii. v. 3. \ Job, c. xxv. v. 3.

CHRISTIAN OBEDIENCE. 385
transgress his commandments in an idle fancy,
that He has his favourites, whom He will indulge
in sin; and that they themselves are in the
number of such favourites, which shews them
ignorant of his eternal equity. God tells his
people by the law, " Ye shall not respect persons in
judgment ; "* and the reason given is, for the
judgment is God's; that is, the judges were
his delegates, and therefore should act accord
ing to his measures ; whose character it is, to
be no respecter of persons. — Lastly, there are
those who keep not his commandments on a
vain presumption that He is all-merciful, and will
pardon and forgive indiscriminately ; and these
shew their ignorance of that great attribute. His
eternal justice. The Apostle says, our God is a
consuming fire ; and St. Paul, that God wiU
render to every man according to his deeds.
2. The next in ignorance are those who sin
on a supposition that the Gospel is a Dispensa
tion of free grace, and requires nothing on our
parts but a mere acceptance of it ; which wiU
" renew a right spirit within us,"-\- while the heart
remains fuU of corruption and vice. And these
evidently declare they know not their master in
his works ; for these consisted in the practice
of aU human virtues during his life, for an
* Deuteronomy, c. i. v. 17. f Psalms, U. v. 10.
2 C

386 CHARGES AND SERMONS,
example to his foUowers ; and in offering himself
an atonement and sacrifice at his death, for the
sins of the whole world. Now it will appear from
both these parts of his works, that He expects a
strict obedience to all his commandments. For, 1 .
what other possible cause can be assigned of
his thus exemplifying in a long course of actioh
his perfect obedience to the whole will of God,
than his intention that we should have the same
regard to his ; so that being graciously pleased to
lighten our task, he set us this all-perfect example
to direct and encourage us in our work, 2, His
death for the sins of mankind more directly
declared the intention of God in exacting a
full obedience to its commands. For if sin and
iniquity were so heinous to the divinity, that
nothing but the sacrifice of the Son of God could
make atonement for them, it is the highest
absurdity to suppose them to be less heinous in
their nature, after the atonement than before.
On the contrary, when the price of expiation has
been so high, it is reasonable to think the
strongest provision should be made, that this
price be not paid in vain by a second lapse into
general sin and corruption.
3. The last in ignorance are those who
pretend they have endeavoured and would fain
perform the whole command of Jesus ; but are
utterly unable by the inability, weakness, and

CHRISTIAN OBEDIENCE. 387
corruption of their nature. Now these evidently
show they know not Jesus by his operations
through the Holy Spirit, the Comforter; whom
after his ascension. He sent amongst them ; and
who from that time through every age of the
Church has left such illustrious marks of His
office in the hearts of the faithful, whose minds
He has illuminated, purified, and strengthened
against the attacks of error, the flesh, and the
evil one ; so as to leave all the followers of Jesus
inexcusable when they make this complaint.
But if sinners, notwithstanding all that can be
said to them, will still persist in pretending to
know Him, their Lord and Master, while they stiU
continue in their vices, and go on in the trans
gression of His will, this knowledge wiU be of
very little service, since He has declared that He
will not know them ; when he says to those who
had no " oil in their lamps,"* or no obedience in
their lives, and yet in confidence of their know
ledge of Him, or their faith in Him, expected
to be received into His rest ; " verily I say unto
you, I know you not."
With aU our knowledge, therefore, let us at
length condescend to be taught better by the
Gospel we pretend to foUow. St. Peter assures
us that " God having raised up his Son Jesus,
sent him to bless us ;"'\- but then he tells us on
* Matthew, c. xxv. v. 4. f Acts, c. iii. v. 26.
2 C 2

388 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
what terms only this blessing is to be obtained,
viz., hy turning every one of us from our ini
quities. Or if we will not learn this, we shaU be
forced to acknowledge at least the just condem
nation in my text ; " He that saith I know Him,
and keepeth not his commandments, is a liar, and
the truth is not in him."

389

SERMON IIL
NATIONAL CORRUPTION.
[Preached before the King, October 16, 1757.]
Psalm xiv. 1.
The FOOL hath said in his heart there is no God.
They are corrupt; they have done abominable works;
there is none that doeth good.
This is the horrid picture the Psahnist draws of
his own times ; where we find impiety and im-
morahty go hand in hand to desolate the com
munity : the thoughts of their hearts were foolish,
and aU their works abominable.
But which of them went foremost, — whether it
was the want of religion that corrupted their
morals, or the want of virtue that gave birth to
their impious principles, he does not teU us. Nor
is it of much moment, since whichever leads, the
other is sure to foUow. The vicious man, for his
own ease, encourages himself in concluding that
there is no moral Governor of the world ; and the
impious man takes advantage of his freedom from
the restraints of religion to indulge himself in the
gratification of all his vicious appetites.
I shaU therefore presume to speak of this cha
racter of national corruption, as it lies in my text.

390 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
and as it appears in our own times both in principle
and practice.
The fool hath said in his heart there is no God.
The folly we see is of ancient standing, yet in the
number of those which time and experience, one
should have hoped, would have cured or abated :
for what can be conceived more powerful to make
even fools wise to salvation than a long and illus
trious history of God's providence, at some seasons
exerting itself in an extraordinary manner in the
reward of virtue and the punishment of vice, and,
at other times, in the ordinary way, by the beauteous
and artful pre-establishment of natural and^ moral
laws, which always concur and incessantly co
operate to produce good out of evil, and to make
both good and evil the necessary consequence of
virtuous and vicious practice ?
And, without doubt, time and experience would
have had their effect, had this foUy been the issue
only of mistaken reasoning ; for this every acces
sion of evidence to the opposite truth would have
tended to set right.
But this was not the case ; the folly in my text
had a different original. The fool said in his
HEART there is no God ; that is, he had been led
to his absurd conclusions against rehgion by the
blind impulse of his vicious passions ; for the an
cients supposed the heart to be the spring and
fountain of all the inordinate appetites and affec
tions.

national corruption. 391
In polite and vicious ages Hke the present, where
every blessing is abused, and among the first, that
greatest blessing liberty, all the improvements
of the mind, as well as all the accommodations for
the body, are perverted into a species of luxury
and exercised as an amusement to the gratification
of the fancy or the appetites. Hence even the
first philosophy, the science of nature itself,
bows to this general abuse. It is made to act
against itself, and to support those impieties it was
intended to redress.
The largest source of this impious folly is
VANITY — the lightest of the passions, and ever
uppermost in a corrupted heart.
This operates variously, according to the station
and condition of him whom it possesses.
If the man makes any pretensions to learning,
it is to do honour to his high acquirements that
he renounces his Maker, and despises the religion
of his country. Great things, he supposes, are
expected from his eminence in knowledge, and if
aU ends in confirming the belief of the vulgar, he
is afraid of suffering in his character. This is the
vanity of the fine scholar.
The vanity of the fine gentleman, with an equal
appetite for fame, shines in a more familiar province.
He says in his heart, religion is a cheat, because,
in a dissolute age Hke this, it is the fashion to
say so ; and the authority of blue ribbon affords
him the same assurance that the fine scholar has

392 charges and sermons.
in the astronomer's zodiac. These, indeed, are
the more reclaimable sort of fools — I do not mean
from their folly in general, but from this particular
species of it, their impiety ; for let it once become
the mode to believe in God (I do not say and to
serve Him), and we shall soon see the fine gentle
man the first in the fashion ; which directs us to a
truth that deserves our most serious attention ;
the great service those men might do (if they
would) to society, who by their rank and station
are entitled to lead the fashion, and who are gene
rally armed with the administration of the salu
tary laws of society, to make others follow.
Vanity, the fruitful source of impiety, appears
next, in a form as absurd as the last is ridiculous —
I mean in the man of paradox, who caUs in question
the most reverenced principles of society, out of
the mere wanton love of mischief, — a certain per
versity in our corrupt nature, which delights to
give the alarm, and to enjoy the disorders it
occasions ; who, like that other fool stigmatized in
sacred scripture, scatters about his poison and his
firebrands, und says, am I not in jest ?*
But men's wicked lives, and the uncomfortable
retrospect of their past actions, are certainly
amongst the more general causes of this impious
language of the heart. Religion, though full of
consolation to the good, yet turns a stern and
threatening aspect on the wicked ; so that their
refuge from its terrors is their persuasion of its
* Prov. xxvi. 18.

national corruption, 393
falsehood ; and though the annihilation of the soul
be but a melancholy prospect, at which nature
shudders and revolts, yet it is a relief, when com
pared with the comminations of religion ; and
extinction of being has its charms when set against
the terrors of the Lord. It is ease, then, which is
only sought for in this system of infidelity : and
what ease from instant pain requires, the under
standing is generally complaisant enough to ac
quiesce in. You will say, there is a much better
remedy ; which is, to disarm divine vengeance by
a speedy reformation of our lives and manners, —
and so says Reason likewise ; but how feeble is the
voice of Reason when she strives against the in
veterate habits of passion !
Such has been the rise and progress of this
ancient foUy, as it now again re-appears in our
own days. Nor are we to think that these corrupt
principles would come now unattended with what
hath been hitherto their inseparable companion —
corrupt morals.
It would not suit the time or occasion to give a
minute detail of modern manners ; but it may be
allowed me just to present you with a summary
view of those three characteristic vices which
distinguish each state and condition of life
amongst us.
A mad rage for pleasure has, in the higher
ranks in society, concihated two very opposite and
unfriendly passions— I mean avarice and pro-

394 CHARGES AND SERMONS*
FUSION ; and made these so different appetites,
which till now kept at the most hostile distance,
to have a quiet residence in the same breast ; and,
what is stranger still, by means of that great re
conciler GAMING, to make them settle on the same
object ; or, at least, in this amusement it is that
they exert their joint powers over the miserable
victims of their tyranny. Other species of luxury,
such as loaded tables, splendid equipage, and
fantastic dress, sap and undermine social hap
piness by slower and more insensible degrees.
This of gaming rushes over it like a torrent,
and gives neither leisure nor warning for escape :
the duties both of public and private life are
neglected, conjugal happiness destroyed, and the
family obnoxious to it desolated as with a pesti
lence. If luxury make such ravages in the higher sta
tions of life, LICENTIOUSNESS has advanced with
equal strides amongst the middle ranks of people.
All respect for our superiors, aU reverence for our
governors, seem now to be at an end. No station
however exalted, — no order however venerable, —
no character however virtuous and disinterested —
can secure men from the malice of wicked libellers.
They poUute the courts of justice, they violate the
senate, and profane even the altar. Hence the
torrent of lying and incendiary pamphlets which
poison the general manners, disturb domestic
peace, and cherish civil faction.

NATIONAL CORRUPTION, 395
A beastly intemperance in the use of spirituous
liquors makes the same ravage in the lowest ranks
that luxury and gaming do in the higher. Both
aim at that supreme blessing, a life of dissipation,
and each has its respective attendant, ruined for
tune and a diseased body. But here lies the dif
ference ; property transferred is not lost to the
pubhc ; but the general health destroyed brings
ruin on society. Hence we may understand how
Government without much other injury than of
private morals, may connive at the vice of gaming,
since its direct and immediate effect is only the
transferring property from one worthless set of
hands to another — generally from fools to knaves ;
but the commission of daily murders by the use of
spirituous liquors is cutting away the very nerves
of society, and desolating the community.
These are the three characteristic vices, each of
which is peculiar to the three ranks of men amongst
us. But there is one which is common to them
all, and goes under the more general name of
CORRUPTION ; which consists not (as it did of old,
and in its ordinary course,) in preferring our own
private interests to the interests of the public, but
in advancing our own private interests at the ex
pense of the pubhc ; the several branches of which
being now formed into a system, it is become
almost as difficult to detect as to reform.
Such is the depraved state of the general man
ners; a people turbulent and servile, mutinous

396 CAARGES AND SERMONS.
and corrupt ; impatient in want, improvident in
abundance ; and equally unawed by the wrath of
Providence or the laws of society : — evils which
have now driven us on the very brink of the pre
cipice. Here the most inconsiderate must take
the alarm, and the most profligate be forced to
stop. We have fallen into our distresses by the wanton
abuse of God's two greatest blessings, civil liberty
and the religion of Jesus. In the days of sunshine
and prosperity the rank weeds of license and im
piety sprung up, and have laid waste and desolated
the heart. But now it will be expected of us, un
less we be content to become the scorn and out
casts of mankind, that calamity and distress should
do their proper office, and by their severe but
wholesome discipline restore sobriety and recollec
tion to the giddy and dissipated mind.
Let us, at length, attend to the common dictates
of reason and religion ; let the libertine shake off
his impiety as a hideous dream, and let the gay
victim of his vanity and his pleasure fly to the
horns of the altar, — to that only support of miser
able humanity, religion. For sure, we should
not (after having abused all God's former blessings)
abuse this last of them, his fatherly correction,
likewise, and suffer adversity to harden our hearts,
instead of amending our ways, when it has that
salutary and sovereign use to restore the decayed
powers of piety and virtue : which, &c, &c.

397
SERMON IV.
FRUITS OF SIN.
[Preached at Lincoln's Inn, Feb. 8. 1746 — 7.]
Rom. vi. 21.
What fruit had ye then of those things, whereof ye
are now ashamed ?
Christian Religion hath discovered to us, for
reasons unknown to philosophy, that sin and
wickedness are the absolute disgrace and degra
dation of our nature.
But the Apostle's purpose in my text was to
remind his followers, that the practice of it was
before found as unprofitable, as it was now seen
to be dishonourable. What fruit (says he)
had ye then in those things whereof ye are now
ashamed? implying that vice and immorahty
produced fruits very different from the expecta
tions of its deluded victims. And this truth the
whole history of mankind confirms.
Happiness is the natural and necessary aim of
aU rational beings ; but in pursuit of this great
end, men, partly from the constitution of their fa
culties, and partly from the disadvantage of their
situation, are very apt to be fatally misled. The
deluded votaries of happiness seeking for it either

398 CHARGES AND SERMONS,
in ambition or pleasure, as the vivacity of their
mental or the vigour of their corporeal faculties
happen differently to excite them ; the schemes
of ambition being carried on by injustice, and
those of pleasure by luxury. Under this view,
therefore, it is, that we are to examine what fruits
these mistaken species of happiness are wont to
produce. First, then, to consider the issue of ambition
carried on by injustice, whether its object be
power or riches. Let us examine the former,
even in its most favourable state, then, when it
has attained what it aimed at ; whether it be by
circumventing particulars through false insinua
tions, or the public through false pretences ; —
whether it be by pretended zeal for the prince's
service, or clamour for the people's liberty.
The ambitious man is now possessed of the
power he aspired to : but he is still as far from
his end, the quiet enjoyment of it, as when he
first set out. He has raised up in his road to
it several powerful enemies, become more free
and implacable by his success. If in his way to
power he rose by circumventing the rivals of his
views, his enemies are personal: and amongst
such, there is no relaxation or remission. If by
deserting the confederacy of a faction, his enemy
then is a party, which if less violent than the
other, is much more formidable and lasting.
These, by traversing all his schemes and designs,

FRUITS OF SIN. 399
make the exercise of his power uneasy and bitter
to him; which frequently ends in his destruc
tion. But suppose him superior to all opposition :
yet as he maintains his power by the same evil
arts by which he procured it, he will become
the object of general odium and aversion ; the
public growing still more and more inflamed by
his successful support of his power. He wiU see
his fame and reputation mangled by the clamours
and libels of the populace ; which, to an ambitious
man, will be the cruellest of mortifications. For
that turn of mind which inspires men with
ambition, makes them most sensible of their fame
and glory. But the punishment will not stop
here ; his very eminence will convey him down
in all these odious colours to posterity, and per
petuate his ignominy to future ages. And as
much a phantom as this is, it is no more so than
the popular breath of his contemporaries, which
was one of the principal ends for which he
laboured through so much opposition and misery ;
and which consequently we must suppose him
equally to feel.
But ambition has rarely the lot of this splendid
misery. Its whole course is commonly spent in
buffeting with adverse weather, which stUl keeps
it from its desired port. For the storms of
ambition drive from all quarters : and though it
be the first principle of this adventurer to veer

400 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
and tack about with every wind, yet the perpetual
counterblasts of court-intrigues, often frustrate
all the endeavours of the most skilful and ex
perienced pilot. How miserably, therefore, must
the life of such an one be spent, who has neither
justice for his card, nor true wisdom for his
compass — to see the flattering and delusive land
always in vievF, and when now his weather-beaten
bark was just in the entrance, to be still unable
to gain the port ; being one while drawn into
the eddy of popular faction, and another while
stranded by the ebb of court desertion !
These are the fruits of irregular ambition, when
pursued with abilities fitted to the attainment of
its mistaken end. But very oft we see men aspire
to be knaves in high places, whom nature has
made fools in low ; and, without any other
pretence to success than want of conscience,
stand candidates for contempt and beggary. So
that by such time as public assemblies grow tired
of making them their sport, their creditors are
waiting for the expiration of their privileges.
The love of money is the other branch of
ambition, though of the mongrel spurious kind.
This has not so much as the faint appearance of
any thing great or noble, but betrays its baseness
at first sight. Now if to the weary labour of
getting, the restless anxiety of keeping, and the
evil conscience that accompanies both, you add,
as the certain lot of the avaricious man, the

FRUITS OF SIN. 401
curses of the poor and oppressed, and the ridicule
and contempt of all the world besides, — the
cruellest tyrant could not invent for those he
most hated, torments so cruel as this wretch
brings upon himself in his mistaken pursuits after
happiness. The fruits of pleasure when placed in luxury,
are no less bitter, where mistaken happiness is
pursued either in intemperance or lasciviousness.
The fruits of intemperance are every disorder
of the mind and body. The intimate union of
these two constituent parts of man, and the
nature of that union, in which the body supplies
the mind with the instruments and organs for
exerting its operations, must needs occasion the
mind's being affected with whatever happens to
the body. Hence, when the spirits, by intem
perance, are over-loaded, and the vigour of their
tone weakened, the understanding must needs
become dull and clouded, and incapable of
exerting its natural abilities of discernment, and
listless and indisposed to exercise them. Hence
many of those errors in human conduct, which
draw after them a train of adversities. Again,
when intemperance has heated and inflamed the
blood, that unnatural ferment must needs irritate
the irascible passions, and betray the man into
aU the excesses of rage, enmity, and resentment,
whose fatal effects need not to be particularly
enumerated, 2 D

402 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
But the greatest havoc intemperance makes
is of the body itself, as the immediate parent of
those horrible diseases that most deform and
excruciate the human frame.
Now, with a mind and body thus debased and
broken, what an additional torment must the
reflection be, to every naturaUy ingenuous, not
to say religious temper, that he hath by these
empty follies of intemperance, rendered himself
incapable of discharging his duty in the free
exercise of his mental and corporeal faculties in
that station in which Providence hath placed
him ; and utterly unable to answer those moral
calls which every one related to him, either by
nature or society, whether civil or domestic,
have upon him. While he finds himself useless
to those he was ordained to assist ; a burden to
those he was ordained to ease ; and a disgrace
and scandal to those whom his good example
should have adorned and instructed.
With regard to unlawful pleasures, called so
from their more immediate mischiefs to society,
they do not bring less upon the unhappy fol
lowers of them. As to the brutality of vague
lust, it carries its own punishment along with it,
in disorders too horrid to be mentioned, — And
unlawful cohabitation has, at best, all the in
conveniences of ill-assorted marriage, in a lavish,
haughty, and unfaithful mistress ; who, too, having
none of the ties of conjugal relation to engage

FRUITS OF SIN. 403
her in a concern for his personal or domestic hap
piness, considers him as one she has a right to
make a prey of ; if it were only for the injury
he has brought upon her virtue and her honour.
A reflection, which he himself cannot fail fre
quently to make ; and, if he has any remains of
justice, or even of generosity, severely to feel.
For the seduction of innocence, the violation of
virtue, the grief brought upon distressed parents.
and dishonour on an honest family, are crimes
of the most inhuman kind.
But if the object of his licentious passion draws
him still deeper into adultery, he must, while he
is pursuing his purpose, add to the foregoing
bitter fruits, all the anxiety and danger of dis
covery, from a view of ignominious law- suits,
and a ruined reputation. And suppose him to
have safely attained his end, the stings and
remorse of conscience, if he has any remaining,
will incessantly torment him ; for the most out
rageous injustice that man in society can commit
against his neighbour, is polluting the marriage
bed ; destroying the comforts and happiness of
domestic life ; and violating the rights of families,
by introducing into them a polluted and a
spurious issue.
These are the fruits of sin ; of ambition and of
pleasure; — and these maybe all summed up in
anxiety, toil, fatigue, disappointment, pubhc odium,
private aversion and contempt, debihty of mind,
2 D 2

404 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
diseases, the torment of remorse, dishonour, and
evil fame to late posterity.
Thus, natural reason and common experience
were sufficient of themselves, to shew men that
vice and immorality are destructive of our hap
piness : but Revelation has gone further in the
support of virtue ; and shewn us that they are
the disgrace and scandal of our nature — " those
things (as the Apostle caUs them) whereof we are
now ashamed." For those things which, in reality,
or in opinion, bring dishonour, are such, and such
only, as make ashamed. Aud whatever things are
discordant to, or unworthy of, our character,
dishonour us.
But Revelation has discovered that vice and
immorality are altogether discordant to, and un
worthy of, our nature : and this, by revealing to
us the high dignity of human original, the worth
and value of our condition, and the honours and
privileges with which it is endowed.
And first, with regard to our original. Holy
Scripture assures us that man was the last great
work of the Creator ; ordained to have dominion
over the rest ; and, to fit him for that high station,
was made in his own image, after his likeness :
words importing the most exalted dignity of
nature, and the nearest relation that a creature
can stand in to its Creator. To such a being, so
related, vice and impurity must be most opposite
and disgraceful ; and which, when we suffer its
residence with us, must needs, on our reflecting

FRUITS OF SIN, 405
on the image and likeness we have the honour
to bear, confound and shame us even to death.
That we, who deduce our origin from the very
fountain of purity, should ally ourselves to filth
and corruption, must surely affect us with the
most intolerable shame.
Again, Scripture informs us that when man
had thus dishonoured his nature, and had de
graded himself from his high original ; had for
feited life and immortality, and sunk into death
and corruption, by becoming leagued and confe
derated with vice, God, in compassion to his
fallen creature, restored him to favour, but at
the price of the death and suffering of his only
Son, who, to make atonement for the sins of
mankind, voluntarily offered himself a sacrifice
to the offended Majesty of Heaven. This is a
still further proof of the dignity of human nature,
which God, rather than suffer to be lost, thought
fit to redeem at so inestimable a price. But by
sinking back into corruption, by returning to all
the disorders of our corrupt nature, we not only
crucify the Lord of life afresh,* but, if we have
any sentiments of gratitude remaining, any re
flection or understanding, we bring ourselves to
open shame, and cannot but be deeply affected
with the disgraceful ignominy of our condition.
But Religion has further ennobled the regene
rated man, by making humanity the receptacle
of the Holy Spirit. * Heb. c. vi. v. 6.

<I06 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
This is the doctrine of our Holy Religion.
Now what greater dishonour and shame can
affect the serious Christian, than to defile the
purity of this temple of the living God by beastly
lusts and intemperance. Know you not (says
the Apostle Paul) that your bodies are the
members of Christ ? Shall I then take the mem
bers of Christ, and make them the members of an
harlot ? God forbid.*
From what has been said, then, we may collect
the superior advantage of our Holy Religion,
above the teaching of the law of nature. This
law, indeed, acquaints us with what is right and
fit, and the conclusions of reason, from experience
and the nature of things, that it is our interest
to obey its dictates. But our Holy Religion,
besides this, which it equally enforces, adds all
the strongest motives capable of subduing the
will : such as the highest sanctions of rewards
and punishments hereafter ; and at present the
strongest impulses in the human breast, which
are honour and shame. Which, that they may
have their due influence, God, &c.
* 1 Cor. c. vi. V. 13.

40/

SERMON V.
BAD PRINCIPLES AND BAD PRACTICE.
[Preached at Lincoln's Inn, May 13, 1750.]
1 Cor. XV. 32.
Be not deceived : evil communications corrupt goo
manners.
Those particular branches of luxury and vice
to which some times or some people are more in
ordinately given, are the effects of prevalent con
stitution, or of strong ungovernable passions ; but
a general pursuit of that species of pleasure which
we call AMUSEMENTS, whcu become the great
business of men's lives, can be only owing to
CORRUPT PRINCIPLES, or a false estimate of human
life. Where either luxury, violence, or injustice pre
vail, we truly ascribe them to lust, ambition, or
avarice ; but when the aim is only to pass through
life with as little serious refiection as possible, and
for that end, to be always in amusements, in which
reason is no further used than to direct their ele
gance, nor the senses further indulged than just to
taste their poignancy, we can assign this only to
certain irreligious principles which terminate the
whole being of man to this present life.

408 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
The natural and almost necessary consequence
of such opinions is, that we ought to make the
MOST of the short space allotted to us, and indulge
ourselves in all such pleasures as maybe longest
enjoyed ; that is, in such as least injure the health ;
and these are they to which we have given the
name of amusements. This is the fashionable
system both in principle and practice, and to this
our whole country seems at present to be given
up. Nature differs nothing from itself: the great
principles of human action are the same in all
times and places. Wherever these impious and
absurd opinions have gained ground, a corre
spondent practice wiU follow ; and the reasonable
ness of it was thought so unquestioned, that one
of the most ancient proverbs in the world was
that which the Apostle quotes in the words pre
ceding my text, — " Let us eat and drink, for to
morrow we die," and which he ascribes to that abo
minable and brutal opinion, that our whole exist
ence ends with this life ; and adds, — " Be not
deceived : evil communications corrupt good man
ners ; " as much as to say, the folly of your practice
arises from the impiety of your opinions.
Ancient history informs us that this was the fact
then ; and we have the evidence of our senses to
assure us that it is certainly the case now. What
endeavours have been publicly used by evil men,
whose practice could promise them nothing on the
side of religion, to persuade us ofthe uncertainty, of

bad PRINCIPLES AND BAD PRACTICE. 409
the falsehood, — nay, even of the impossibility of re
vealed religion ! They did it without any animad
version on the part of the Magistrate, though in
open defiance, not only to the religion of our
country, but to good manners ; — nay, what is
more, to all the civil laws of the community.
This could not but have a bad effect on the
generality ; for, though animadversion and restraint
might excite the impertinent curiosity ofa few, yet
the silence and unconcern of the Magistrate would
naturally prejudice the bulk of the people in
favour of writings where the established rehgion
was insulted and attacked.
Not but this conduct of the Magistrate was
grounded on wise and generous principles. The
prosecution of such offenders being of a very
delicate nature, if committed to the hands of
less expert, or more designing men, might en
danger both religious and literary liberty, two
of the greatest blessings /r eera m can enjoy ; — the
civil Magistrate, therefore, had important reasons
to withhold his hand, except when the outrage was
excessive, and then we have sometimes seen it
exerted with vigour.
However, though we have great reason to think
ourselves happy under the lenity of a government
which proceeds on such mUd and provident prin
ciples, we cannot but see that it has accidentally
concurred to the increase of the evU we are here
speaking of. But this is the inevitable condition

410 charges AND SERMONS.
of human things, in which no great good is to be
obtained without some mixture of evil attending it.
This evil is now indeed grown enormous. Scep
ticism and disbelief of the religion of our country
is become general, and has descended even to
women, and the lowest mechanics ; and it has now
produced its natural fruits, — an universal dissipa
tion, and unintermitting rage for constant pleasure
and amusement.
Now, while the principle which gives birth to
these disorders continues, it would be in vain to
urge men with the civil mischiefs it produces ;
such as the poverty and distresses of particulars,
and (what their wants wiU necessarily produce)
danger and insecurity to the persons and effects
of those who have anything to lose.
I shall, therefore, endeavour to expose the foUy
and madness of this strong propensity to irreligion
and unbelief, which has so fatally infected every
condition of life amongst us.
My text says, that " evil communications corrupt
good manners," — a truth confirmed by the uni
versal experience of mankind, that bad opinions
PRODUCE wicked PRACTICE. Another observation
common amongst us is no less true, that a wicked
life gives birth to irreligious principles. But this
is to be understood only of the heads and leaders
in impiety : the bulk of its foUowers are such whom
evil communications have corrupted. We know
that the authors of the worst books against reli-

BAD PRINCIPLES AND BAD PRACTICE. 411
gion were bad men before they became bad
writers ; and we know, too, that the infection they
spread abroad had been generally catched, before
men became thus universally seized with this
frantic rage for pleasure.
Let us therefore consider the motives by which
they were deluded into their impiety and unbelief,
together with the folly of their conduct. These
writers are full of encomiums on the merit and
virtue of detecting and casting off the vulgar pre
judices of bigotry and superstition, and represent
themselves as the restorers of common sense and
freedom. This inflames their readers with the
ambition of sharing with them in so glorious a
cause, in which they find themselves become wiser
than their fathers, and, what is more, a match for
their teachers.
A still stronger propensity to this unnatural
appetite for infidelity is the being in the fashion.
They have been told (how truly I do not know) that
few of the persons of condition believe ; and when
the common people hear this (who think they are,
and indeed think truly, as well qualified to judge
of these matters as their betters), they will be in
the fashion too, on the same principle whereby
they imitate those above them in common life, as
far as their follies and their faculties can reach.
And now let me only add a word or two con
cerning the folly of this strange propensity to ir-
rehgion and impiety, — a propensity which shows

412 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
our passions and inclinations go much faster than
our reason in the conclusions we make against the
mystery of godliness.
We examine (whenever we do examine) the
pretensions of the Gospel as if we feared to find
them true, and wished for nothing more than that
they may prove /a /*e.
By this one would imagine that religion was
either an enemy to our private quiet, or to the
public peace ; that it either forbad us the use of
those blessings which nature, by the gracious
providence of God, hath bestowed upon us, or that
it deprived us of the lawful means of reaping the
benefits of wealth, grandeur, and power, which
society is calculated to produce.
On the contrary, religion is the only means of
procuring inward peace, by gaining us the love of
God ; and the only means of securing the public
quiet, by instilling into men the fear of Him. It
is so far from forbidding us the use of the gifts of
nature, that it only directs us to the true means
of enjoying them, by prescribing a moderate use of
them ; for by an immoderate use their enjoyment
is presently lost. It is so far from being unfriendly
to the benefits procured by society, that it alone
supplies us with those principles by which only
communities can become, and can long continue,
great and flourishing.
By our prejudices against religion, strangers
would imagine that the doctrines of it afforded us

BAD PRINCIPLES AND BAD PRACTICE. 413
the most dismal TprosY>ects of an hereafter, whereas,
on the contrary, they give us such high and pleas
ing ideas of futurity as are able (and they only are
able) to make us bear with content and cheerful
ness all the infirmities and evils inseparable from
miserable humanity.
Now, it is one of the first principles of our nature,
that the higher the value of any thing is, the
dearer it should be to us.
It is one of the first principles of reason, that
the more important any supposed truth is to us,
the greater evidence we should require of him who
would persuade us of its falsehood.
At least, if we suffer ourselves to be persuaded
to quit it, we should expect to be offered an equi
valent in its stead.
But now the men proselyted to infidelity suffer
themselves to be guided by neither of these con
siderations : they suffer themselves to be persuaded
by slight conjectures, by difficulties which the busy
wit of man may invent against religion, though
there be, on the other side, the most solid argu
ments for the truth of it.
Again : the writers and propagators of infidelity
give us nothing in lieu of that solid support of
the human mind, and only lasting bond of civil
community, religion. They take from us the God
and Governor of the universe, and send us to a
blind and unrelenting nature ; they deprive us of

414 CHARGES AND SERMONS,
the Redeemer of the world, and leave us only vague
hope, the last miserable delusion of the wretched.
This is a true representation of our case ; and if
this shows us the dreadful folly of our condition,
what have we to do but to return to a better mind ?
All nature and grace invite us to it : the imminent
destruction, both private and public, that must
speedily overtake our present courses, and the
encouragement this reviled and rejected religion
gives us of the returning favour and blessings of
God upon our return to him.
Men, when they have abandoned all serious
sentiments of rehgion, soon begin to feel their
forlorn and miserable condition. Hence it is that
we now run so vrildly from the torments of it to
perpetual diversions and amusements. But these
only inflame the evil, and instead of easing our
inward distresses, only increase our outioard, by
lessening our industry and heightening our ex
penses. By this, too, the public suffers in its loss
of trade and credit, by its effeminating the mind
and debilitating the body ; by its Adtiating even our
civil principles, and making us ready to hearken
to any destructive counsels ; till the loss of all
private virtue has finished its progress in the loss
of all public, and leaves us an easy prey to any
foreign or domestic enemy who has designs upon
our liberty.
On the other hand, to invite us to amendment,
we have all that infinite mercy can hold out to us.

BAD PRINCIPLES AND BAD PRACTICE. 415
1st. The promise of pardon and full restoration
to the favour of our offended Master upon the
easiest terms, — " Faith in Jesus Christ and re
pentance towards God ;" * that is, cordially believ
ing that Jesus is the Son of God and the
Redeemer of mankind, and a hearty sorrow for,
and detestation of, our sins, together with a sincere
purpose of amendment. And,
2dly. To enlighten our understandings, and to
rectify and support our wills in the prosecution of
these virtuous purposes, we have the assistance of
the Holy Spirit, always at hand to those who call
upon God through the mediation of his Blessed
Son. Which, that we may have the wisdom to use, &c.
* Acts, c. XX. V. 21.

4J6

SERMON VI.
CHARITY.
1 Cor. xiii. 1, 2,3.
Though i speak with the tongues of men and of
angels, and have not charity, i am become as sound
ing BRASS OR a tinkling CYMBAL.
And though i have the gift of prophecy, and under
stand ALL MYSTERIES AND ALL KNOWLEDGE; AND THOUGH
I HAVE ALL FAITH SO THAT I COULD REMOVE MOUNTAINS,
AND HAVE NOT CHARITY, I AM NOTHING.
And THOUGH I bestow all my GOODS TO FEED THE POOR ;
AND THOUGH I GIVE MY BODY TO BE BURNED, AND HAVE NOT
CHARITY, IT PROFITETH ME NOTHING.
The Apostle's admonitions in this chapter afford
us a very melancholy and affecting instance of the
miserable perversity of human nature. The Spirit
of Truth, the Comforter, the Enlightener of the
understanding, and the Purifier of the heart,
promised to the faithful by our Blessed Redeemer
on his leaving the world, never manifested himself
by more illustrious marks of the Divine presence
than amongst the faithful of the Church of Corinth,
to whom this Epistle is addressed ; such as the
gift of tongues, the interpretation of prophecies.

CHARITY. 417
the working of miracles, the most perfect disinte
restedness, and the most intrepid courage in perse
cution. Yet some of them, so richly gifted, instead of
suffering the Divine Spirit to do His perfect work,
in directing aU those endowments to the enlarge
ment of the heart by universal benevolence, — the
good of mankind being the great scope to which
our religion tends (for the end of the commandment
is charity /^—instead of this, I say, the too sensible
consciousness of so many gifts and graces filled
them with spiritual pride, whose property it is
not to bear with those who differ from them, and
to despise those who are beneath them in spiritual
attainments. Now this unhappy temper, not only rendering
all their divine accompHshments vain and fruitless,
but in the sense of unbelievers even reflecting dis
honour on the operation of the Holy Spirit, the
Apostle opposes it with much vigour, in setting out
the necessity, the superior advantages, and the
natural excellence of charity, above all other
Christian graces whatsoever.
" Though I speak (says the Apostle) with the
tongues of men and angels, and have not charity,
L am become as sounding brass or a tinkling
cymbal." He aUudes to that miraculous gift with which
the first preachers of the Gospel were endowed, in
order to render the propagation of it amongst re-
2 E

418 CHARGES AND SERMONS,
mote and barbarous nations more speedy and
effectual. To the tongues of men the Apostle adds and
angels ; as much as to say, " even though this gift
be further dignified with a particular message or
revelation from heaven," yet, while unaccompanied
with charity, the person so distinguished, as far as
regards himself, becomes as sounding brass or a
tinkling cymbal ; alluding to the mysterious Cory-
bantine worship of the Pagans, which was ushered
in with the brute sounds of brazen cymbals, and
meaning that such a one partakes no more of the
efficacy and benefits of the faith in Christ than
that clamour is significative of a rational worship.
But my text goes still higher. Though I have
the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries
and all knowledge, and have not charity, I am no
thing. The first quality for the propagation of
religion was the gift of tongues, to make himself
understood ; the next was, a perfect knowledge of
that religion he was entrusted to teach ; and this
consisted in a thorough comprehension of the
different natures of the two religions, and of their
connection and depen dance on one another, called
by the Apostle the gift of prophecy , and the under
standing all mysteries and all knowledge.
He yet proceeds. "And though I had all faith
that I could remove mountains, and have not
charity, I am nothing." Byfcithis meant that
supreme degree of Gospel faith that was then at-

CHARITY. 419
tended with the power of working miracles, and
alluding in the expression to that history in St.
Matthew, who, when the disciples were unable to
work a certain miracle to which they were called,
tells us, that Jesus said, it was because of their un
belief: for, verily I say unto you, had ye faith as
a grain of mustard-seed, ye should say unto this
mountain, remove hence to yonder place, and it
shall remove, and nothing shall be impossible unto
you.* Now with all these advantages, which are
conceived to exalt human nature to the highest
eminence, as most reflecting the image of the
Creator in his attributes of wisdom and poiver, yet
the holy Apostle declares, that, without charity,
man is still the most insignificant of beings. If I
have not charity, says he, / am nothing.
But he advances still higher. And though I
bestow all my goods to feed the poor ; alluding to
the practice of the first Christians ; for, as we find
it recorded in the Acts of the Apostles, " as many
as were possessors of lands or houses sold them,
and brought the prices of the things that were sold,
and laid them down at the Apostles' feet." ^
He goes on. And though I give my body to be
burned ; that is, though I offer up myself a martyr
in attestation of the faith ; yetifl havenot charity,
it profit eth me nothing. For these were esteemed
actions of the highest merit ; and, when they are
the fruits of charity and universal benevolence,
certainly are so. But though they are commonly
* Matt. xvii. 20. \ Acts, iv. 34.
2 E 2

420 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
mistaken for it, and, in our language, have usurped
the very name of charity, they are as commonly
another thing, and may be performed on motives
very different from charity, and by him in whose
bosom benevolence never entered.
This is a plain and literal exposition of my text ;
and from these words I shall endeavour to iUus
trate the following general propositions, which
have their foundation in the more particular truths
of it. That, in the absence of charity, the science
of divinity becomes vain and useless ; the pure
faith void and inefficacious ; and moral practice
unamiable and unfruitful.
I. The science of divinity is the discovery and
the communication of religious truth.
Let us see how both these are affected by want
of charity.
Now, want of charity implies more than a mere
absence of virtue ; it implies the being possessed
with those passions most contrary to its nature ;
such as selfishness, envy, resentment, and the like :
for charity, the most instinctive of our appetites,
never leaves the human breast tUl forced out and
driven away by these hostile passions.
But these passions not only darken and obscure
the understanding when in pursuit of rehgious
truth, but likewise draw it devious from that pur
suit to attend to their own partial views and pro
jects. For, agitated by their oblique interests, our

CHARITY. 4'2l
affections are drawn from truth to opinions. That
is, we no longer aspire to the discovery of truth
with an indifference as to the quarter in which it
lies hid ; but aU our aim is to have our own pre
conceived opinions to be found the truth. This
draws on that second impediment to the discovery
of truth, which is the leaving the pursuit of it, and
turning all our pains to the inculcating, defending,
and estabhshing our own set of principles ; which,
instead of leading and advancing towards truth,
most commonly recede farther and farther from it.
Hence it is that, in fact, so little advances have
been made in truth after the labour of so many
ages, with the assistance of so many great ge
niuses dedicated to this sacred work, and supported
in it by long leisure and familiar converse in all
ancient and modern knowledge.
But supposing truth to have forced itself into
the acquaintance of a man devoid of charity, it yet
remains with him barren and fruitless, and ineffi
cacious in its communication to others.
To the successful propagation of truth there
must be a concurrence in the good dispositions
both ofthe giver and receiver. But both these are
wanting where the propagator of truth is not ac
tuated by the principle of charity.
The teacher, in such a case, being apt to dehver
his instructions with pride, superiority, and an
expectation of having them impHcitly received.

422 CHARGES AND SERMONS,
And the learner receiving them with diffidence,'
prejudice, and indisposition.
So that, between both, the communication of
truth becomes only the source of discord.
II. To come now to our second point, which is,
that without charity the pure faith becomes void
and inefficacious.
This faith is a belief in God. But religious be
lief consists in an act of the heart, as weU as un
derstanding; for the Devils believe and tremble.*
But the belief of the elect is attended with love, and
not fear ; because rational belief is grounded in
a knowledge of the nature of its object, and God
is the most amiable of beings : from whence
ariseth perfect love ; and that, the Apostle tells us,
casteth out fear. •\-
Now St. John says that this faith without charity
is a vain pretence. If a man say (says he in his
first general Epistle) / love God, and hateth his
brother, he is a liar ; and he subjoins a reason,
founded in the nature of things ; for he that loveth
not his brother, whom he hath seen, how can he love
God, whom he hath not seen ? %
For man rises gradually in his comprehension
of things, from, the individual to the whole. Thus
the love of every object begins originaUy from self-
love. Rational gratitude and innate tenderness,
then, teach us to love ourselves as  , and,
by representation, in our parents and in our off
spring. The principle of benevolence being now
* James, ii. 19. f 1 John, iv. 18. % 1 John, iv. 20

CHARITY, 423
awaked, extends itself to our remoter relations,
and soon takes in all the connexions of domestic
Hfe, and then by degrees extends through the
whole neighbourhood, and soon to aU the feUow
members of the civil community. And now self-
love, further refined by reason and subhmed by
virtue, begins to lose its nature, and assume the
better name of charity. Our country next claims
our love ; we then further extend it to all man
kind ; and never rest till we have at length fixed it
on the most amiable of all objects, and in which
aU the other are contained — the great Author and
Original of being. This is the natural progress of
charity, and true original of saving faith.
From whence we see so close an union arise
between them, that they become from henceforth
inseparable. Well, therefore, might the Apostle
caU those liars who pretended to the true faith, the
love of God, while they had no charity, or hated
their brother ; and his reasoning stands thus :
" Can you, says he, who are not yet arrived at
that inferior stage of benevolence, the love of your
brother, whom you have seen, (that is, whom the
necessities of animal and civil life, and the sense
of mutual wants and mutual relief, might teach
you to love,) can you pretend to have attained the
very height and perfection of this virtue, the love
of God, whom you have not seen P" (that is, whose
wonderful ceconomy in the system of the creation
and preservation of the world, which makes him

424 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
SO amiable, you appear not to have the least con
ception of) ; you have not yet learnt that your
own peculiar system is supported on the great
principle of general benevolence.
Without charity, therefore, we must needs con
clude that faith is vain and inefficacious, as taking
from it that in which its great virtue consists, —
the love of the object believed in.
Ill, Lastly, even moral practice without charity
is unamiable and unfruitful. The social virtues
(which only are the subject of this proposition)
consist in justice, and administering to the wants
of others. Now, in the absence of charity, which
gives these virtues all their lustre, the best motives
to their observance can be only civil and religious
fear ; for I speak not of vanity, ambition, self-
interest, and the like, which all see to be so
worthless motives as to take away all merit, though
not use, of social virtue.
The uncharitable man, therefore, who observes
the rule of justice, does it not out of love or bene
volence to mankind, but merely to avoid the
penalties of the law, and the resentment of the
civil magistrate. There is so little of the virtue
of humanity in this, that the Roman satirist ridi
cules the most specious pretences to it :
Vir bonus est quis ?
Qui consulta patrum, qui leges juraque servat.
This was what the people said, indeed ; but the
philosopher would grant no more than —
Habes pretium, loris non ureris aio.

CHARITY. 425
And where the motive of justice was only himself,
he had his reward when himself escaped punish
ment by the observance of it.
Virtue has the same unamiable appearance in
almsgiving, and the relief of the distressed, where
it is divested of charity. As the performance of
the other branch of social virtue was for fear of
present punishment, so is this for fear of future
only. Hence we see rich foundations and magni
ficent hospitals raised by men in whose breasts the
love of God or man never entered, and who have
often made more beggars in their lives than they
could reUeve at their deaths. At best, it is a heavy,
painful sharing of the goods of fortune with our
distressed brethren ; given, as the Apostle expresses,
grudgingly and of necessity, as arising from the
fear of future punishments. But God, he tells us,
loveth a cheerful yiver ; * that is, one excited to it
by charity and universal benevolence, — virtues
which .spread a perpetual sunshine over the human
mind, and, in this act and exercise of them, give
ineffable joy to that happy man who considers
himself as the steward of the goods of Providence,
and entrusted with the distribution of them to the
glory and honour of his Maker, This cheerful giver,
the Apostle teUs us, God loves ; and we need not
doubt it, for he loves God : the same Divine au
thority making the certain mark of his love of God
to be, that he loves his brother also.
The sum, then, from the whole is this, that it is
* 2 Cor. ix. 7.

426 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
charity which gives to all the rest of the Christian
graces and moral duties both their efficacy and
their lustre ; as it is light which restores to aU
animate and inanimate bodies both their form and
colour. Unirradiated, therefore, by solar charity,
all the other virtues lie lost and undistinguished
in the deep obscurity and gloom of earthy passions
and appetites, which, though they may perhaps
save us for our own ease or reputation here, or
may even be of use to the community we live with,
will never benefit us in procuring that happiness
which our holy religion offers to all that seek it,
through the love of God and man.

427

SERMON VIL
DECEITFULNESS OF SIN.
Heb. iii. 12,13.
Take heed, brethren, lest there be in you an evil
HEART OF unbelief IN DEPARTING FROM THE LIVING GoD.
But EXHORT one another DAILY, WHILE IT IS CALLED TO
DAY, LEST ANY OF YOU BE HARDENED THROUGH THE DECEIT-
FULNESS OF SIN.
The holy Apostle, calling upon his brethren, the
Jewish converts, to watchfulness and repentance,
very appositely reminds them (in the words pre
ceding my text) of the folly of their ancestors,
who, devoted to their idols of wood and stone,
neglected the day of grace, and of return to the
living God.
One would hardly have imagined (but for the
warning here given) that the first foUowers of
Christ should become infected with an evil heart
of unbelief, almost as soon as they had been re
newed and regenerated with the spirit of the living
God. It is certain, however, that the men of the pre
sent times hold the greatest resemblance to those
rebeUious Iraehtes of old in aU the ckcumstances
of their and our apostacy.
When the descendants of Abraham, now groan-

428 CHARGES AND SERMONS,
ing under oppression, had called in vain on the
gods ofthe nations for rehef, Moses brought them
acquainted with the living God ; by whose almighty
power he led them, in spite of their tyrant, into a
land of peace and liberty, situate on the borders
of one still better, thepromised land of plenty and
dominion ; but, while preparation was making for
their reception of this last great blessing, an evil
heart of unbelief began to seize upon them, and
they turned from their Deliverer to their idols of
wood and stone.
Just so it was with us, the descendants of Adam
at large, when groaning under the slavery of our
lusts and passions, the instruments of whose rage
were death and error, and calling in vain upon
those idols of our own hands, philosophy and
human wisdom, which only aggravated our misery
by showing our condition to be desperate. Then
it was, that the living God sent unto us his son, to
lead us into his church, the mansion of light and
peace, and the vestibule to those eternal regions
reserved for the faithful hereafter.
But it is not my purpose to explain the various
ways by which the Christian world has, at different
times, abused and forfeited these celestial blessings:
my business, at present, is to show how we Eng
lishmen of these latter ages have rivalled those
rebeUious Israelites, both in God's mercies and in
our own follies. It is hardly a century ago, when
God, to punish us for the abuse of his two greatest

DECEITFULNESS OF SIN, 429
blessings, freedom of government and purity of
religion, sent out a spirit of dissension, which
soon overturned the constitution both of church
and state, and left them a prey to the am
bition of civil usurpers, and to the hypocrisy of
rehgious tyrants, tiU we became the pity and con
tempt ofthe whole earth. But God, in his justice,
remembered mercy ; and, by one of the most signal
exertions of His providence, from this chaos, as at
the creation, called out order — at His word the
church and monarchy were again restored, and
with them all our civU and religious blessings.
But what retum did we make for this deliverance ?
Instead of repentance, sobriety, and a more sincere
attachment to our holy faith, luxury, riot, and an
evil heart of unbelief arose amongst us ; the latter
of which kept still spreading wide and more wide,
till it had, as now it has, infected the whole body
of the people.
But what say the Oracles of Truth, in this case
of a general defection from the Hving God ? How
do they direct those who yet stand firm in the
faith ? They advise such to oppose themselves to
this torrent of impiety. They direct them to aid
and strengthen those of their brethren who are
yet on the doubtful confines of rehgion and im
piety ; of virtue and of vice ; of sense and nonsense ;
and who now go over to one side, now to another,
as their conscience and their passions drive them to
and fro at random.

430 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
" Exhort one another daily (says the Apostle)
while it is called to-day, lest any of you be hard
ened through the deceitfulness of sin :" where, we
may observe, that the sacred writer takes it for
granted, that the apostacy from the living God he
here speaks of arises from the deceitfulness of sin,
which had polluted and defiled the heart, and so
fitted it for the entrance of the evil spirit of un
belief We understand, from the sad experience
of all ages, that he had reason to make this con
clusion. To pursue, therefore, the direction of my text,
which, as the best cure for unbelief, begins with
the cause, and prescribes the eradication of our
vices by a speedy repentance.
" Exhort one another daily (says the text) whUe
it is called to-day," The present moments are
here called to-day : they are emphatically so, both
on aphysical and a religious account. To-day may,
for ought we know, be the last of our lives ; or it
may be the utmost term of grace. We presume,
therefore, too much both on God's natural and
moral dispensation, to expect a to-morrow, for
that work which God hath appointed us to do
to-day : we grossly transgress in prudence, to sub
ject a necessary work to the hazard of never being
done at all, when we have it in our power to do it
now. But there are other dangers in deferring repent
ance, besides shortening the term of life or the day

deceitfulness of sin. 431
of grace. And these the Apostle intimates to us
in what he calls the deceitfulness of sin, whose
property it is to harden the heart; which he
reckons, and very truly, to be an eternal bar to
effectual repentance.
To prevent these mischiefs, therefore, it may not
be unuseful to you to explain this quality of sin,
its deceitfulness, and the bad effect it has upon
the heart, to render it obdurate and unfeeling to
all the impressions of nature and of grace.
Sin manages its deceits by the pleasures it ob
jects to our senses, and hythe sophistry it obtrudes
on our understanding.
The false pleasures of sin are either those mo
mentary joys it produces, or those imaginary de
lights which it promises ; both of which have a
natural tendency to harden the unguarded heart,
by dissolving its powers, or diverting them from
their attendance on reason.
AU men experience the irresistible force of
pleasure, the passion for it being implanted in our
constitution, in order to excite us to the pursuit of
true happiness, the end of our being. But of aU
pleasures, the pleasures of sense strike us most
forcibly, as they were meant to be the means of
preserving both the individual and the kind. Now
the pleasures of sin are pleasures of this sort fol
lowed imprudently, seized upon unlawfully, and
enjoyed with excess. In which state the heart

432 charges and sermons.
becomes deaf to the admonitions of conscience,
and to the stronger caUs of religion.
But this is not all. Exorbitant and unlawful
pleasures, after long use, become even necessary to
the quiet of a brutalized mind ; and a hardened
heart is the proper agent of its gratifications.
Nor is this the worst. The pleasures of intem
perance become, in some sort, even necessary to
the health of the body. This is one of the strangest
prodigies produced by vice. But it is too frequent
to be doubted of. For the organs of the human
frame, brought into an unnatural state, vitiated
by pleasure, deranged by excess, and overstrained
by the repeated violence of luxurious impressions,
are now incapable of performing their proper
functions but by the continuance of that unnatural
condition. And this makes way for another of the deceits of
sin ; which now, with some plausibility, would
persuade us that that course of life can never be
amiss which tends to preserve us in our present
state of health.
These are the effects of that momentary plea
sure which sin may be said actually to afford.
But, as this enemy of our nature promises moun
tains when it can hardly raise molehills ; where
the pleasure faUs short of the expectation, there
sin is at hand, with its further deceits, persuading
its deluded votaries that the disappointment shall

deceitfulness of sin. 433
be amply repaired by persevering in the course of
foUy. It may be thought, perhaps, that the horrid
form of vice, whatever disguise she puts on, might
be sufficient to fright us from aU commerce with
her. And so it would be, had we the power of
keeping our ideas separate and distinct, and of
making each the simple representation of itself.
But we are so framed by nature (indeed, for wise
and admirable purposes) as to receive, or, at least,
to possess, our ideas encumbered with snch foreign
connexions, so oddly made, and of things so en
tirely unrelated (which chance and accidents have
brought together), as not to have it in our power,
for the most part, to separate each from the other,
and to view them singly and distinct.
Thus, for instance, consider avarice in itself,
and nothing appears more base and contemptible :
yet, dragging along with it the ideas of power,
place, and security, it changes its nature, and be
comes a provident provision.
Can anything be more savage and barbarous
than a prosecuted revenge for trifles ? yet join the
idea of honour to it (which it is difficult to separate
from it), and it becomes heroic spirit and great
ness of mind.
Intemperance, for ever accompanied with a dis
tempered body and an enfeebled mind, we should
fly from as from a pestUence, did not the Jollity of
debauch, at the same time, sound so loudly in our
2 F

434 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
ears as to still the softer voice of reason and safety.
— And so of the rest.
This is one species of that deceit which sin ob
trudes upon its votaries ; in which it is assisted by
the very nature of sin itself.
There is another still more refined, and, if not
so forcible, yet more insinuating ; I mean, those
false reasonings, the deceits of sophistry, all
directed to one end, viz. to darken and perplex our
native sentiments of right and wrong, of good and
evil ; and this by several ingenious contrivances.
Sometimes, sin endeavours to persuade us, that
what are commonly caUed the strict dictates of
virtue are only the impositions of severe and ab
stracted moralists, or of artful and designing po
liticians ; that nature, an unerring guide, informs
us, that the appetites were given to be enjoyed,
and the passions (planted in us by her own hand,)
ordained to be gratified ; that pleasure, another
word for happiness, being the end of man, the
pursuit of it will no more bear remission or inter
ruption, than life itself, in the exercise of the vital
functions ; and that it is as necessary the desire
should be constantly gratified, as that the pulse
should continue to beat.
But where, to a more delicate or timorous mind,
this doctrine appears too gross or daring, there sin,
by the magic of her sophistry, can transform each
vice into its neighbouring virtue. Ambition be
comes the love of glory ; injustice is self-preserva
tion ; cunning is wisdom ; and luxury, munificence.

DECEITFULNESS OF SIN. 435
But the capital sophistry of Sin, and that in
which she most prides herself, is to strike at the
foundation of morality, by discrediting the dis
tinctions of truth and falsehood, from whence arise
the differences of right and wrong. She now pre
tends that Nature has involved its mysteries (if any
such there be) in clouds and darkness, and doomed
man to a total ignorance of all things : that there
fore doubt and uncertainty is the philosophy of the
wise ; that all distinctions of right and wrong, of
good and evil, are the phantoms of metaphysic
dreams ; and, in fine, that Nature has opened to
us no other road to happiness, than by the senses.
Such are the various deceits of sin, which, the
Apostle teUs us, tend to harden the heart, and
thereby render all exhortations to repentance vain
and fruitless. And, indeed, the nature of things
considered, it is morally impossible, after a long
course of vice, that it should be otherwise. Can
the Ethiopian (says the Prophet) change his skin,
or the leopard his spots ? then may ye also do good,
who are accustomed to do evil. For the deceitful
ness of the pleasures of sin renders the heart un
feeling and insensible ; the deceitfulness of its so
phistry makes it perverse and untractable. Now
these, when acting in conjunction, bring over the
heart so impenetrable a cover, as to make it totally
unfeeling ; for perversity hinders all approaches in
attempting to overcome its insensibility ; and in
sensibility affords us no ground or footing to
2 F 2

436 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
combat its perversity ; so that it remains equally
incapable of the impressions either of reason or of
grace. Hence we understand the admirable advice of
the sacred writer, in my text, to oppose sin daily,
while it is called to-day ; which implies, that we
should not let slip the present moments, for these
only are in our power, and Hkewise, (which the
words while it is called to-day more emphatically
imply,) that the fittest season for the work of re
pentance is while sin has not yet had time to in
terpose with its deceits, nor brought the heart into
a slavish subjection to its dictates.
May we all therefore exercise our mutual cha
rity to one another in hearkening to this good old
advice, which, before the coming of these new in
structors, our wise forefathers reverenced, and by
which they profited, to exhort one another daily,
while it is called to-day, least any of us be har
dened by the deceitfulness qf sin.

437

SERMON VIII.
DUELLING,
James, c. iv, v, 1,
From whence come wars and fightings among you ?
Come they not hence, even of your lusts ?
The Apostle is here speaking of the grounds,
both of public and private dissensions ; — which
all who have looked into the world, as weU as
the Apostle, have given to the account of our
inordinate lusts and passions.
The desolation brought upon mankind by our
civil rulers can only be lamented. For who shaU
redress the disorders occasioned by those whose
office it is, and who alone have it in their power
to prevent them ? These must be left to the
judgment of Him whose substitutes they are.
But those audacious men who assume the right
of sovereigns, and dare to determine their private
quarrels with one another by the sword, can
pretend to none of this exemption.
I shall, therefore, take upon me to censure the
practice of duelling, as it affects civil society
and religion, by shewing it to be a scandalous
insult upon both.

438 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
On men's first entrance into society, they agreed
to refer all their quarrels and disputes of a civil
kind to a common arbiter, who was indifferent
to the parties contending. And indeed to procure
this great commodity was one of the principal
ends of entering into society ; every man's judging
in his own cause being what in a little time
rendered the state of nature intolerable.
Now the Duellist, by assuming the right to
judge for himself, does, by his example, all in his
power to bring men back again to that state of
misery and confusion from which civil society
has relieved them. Such an one, therefore, be
comes (and should be so deemed) a declared
enemy to all government and order. And what
greatly aggravates the crime is this, that they
who thus offend against law, (for all weU-policied
states have concurred to make the crime of
DUELLING capital,) are generally the men whose
superior stations place them amongst the framers,
or at least conservators of the public laws ; such
who lie under particular obligations to support
them in vigour, and vindicate the violation of
them. Religion, in its directions to private men and
particulars, expressly forbids the shedding of man's
blood, except in one only case, the repeUing im
mediate and mortal danger from themselves ; and
this under the severest penalty, the forfeited
blood of the offender. He that sheddeth man's

DUELLING. 439
Mood, by man shall his blood be shed, saith the
Lord of life and death. For this crime, and this
alone, the God of mercy appears inexorable ; He
who, with regard to all other trespasses, which
we commit against one another, recommends to
us mutual forbearance and forgiveness, shuts up
both the doors of mercy, the human and divine.
For the irremissible sentence, of offering up to
eternal justice the blood of the murderer, is both a
direction for human judicatories, and a declaration
of His own pursuing vengeance, whereby He
engages Himself so to direct the course of his
Providence, that second causes shall perform the
office of the fabled Furies, to hunt the offender
through the world, till they have brought him to
the bar of civU justice, where, if he escape, the
same avengers shall still dog his footsteps, till the
torments of a distracted conscience, or another
murderer Hke himself, have rendered him up to
the tribunal of Heaven.
But Religion, for the security of man's Hfe,
does not stop here. It does not, like human laws,
do its work imperfectly, and only punish when
crimes are committed : it has contrived to prevent
them, by restraining the first motion towards
them, and guarding the remoter approaches
towards their commitment.
Thus it enjoins the government of the passions ;
more particularly of anger and revenge. It allows
us to be angry, and sin not ; that is, it indulges

440 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
our first motions, but forbids us to indulge them.
It allows still less to revenge ; it considers the
gratification of this passion as an impious usurpa
tion on the rights of Heaven. Vengeance is mine ;
I will repay, saith the Lord.
Religion goes still further. It not only restrains
wrath, but commands forgiveness of injuries ; and
not only slight ones, but the most weighty ; and
not for oncCj but as often as they can be supposed
to be repeated.
Lastly, as the most effectual barrier against all
outrages of this kind, we are commanded to love
our neighbour (every one of our own species) as
ourselves. Our Lord and Master, therefore, having been
pleased to put so many barriers round the Hfe of
man, how great must be the enormity of this
offence, which cannot be committed tiU we have
already despised and violated a hundred precepts
of our Holy Religion, and broken loose, like
savages, from all the ties of reason and humanity !
Thus we see, by this impious practice of dueUing,
society and religion are equally insulted, and their
laws set at nought for trifles and airy visions, for
empty honour or a painted mistress, — the creatures
of a heated fancy or disordered understanding.
Such is the charge, which, by the duty of my
office and function, I am compelled to bring against
these spadassins and cut- throats without com
mission.

DUELLING. 441
Let us now see what they have to plead in de
fence or excuse of so execrable a practice.
Such of them who have not yet been taught to
speculate on the matter, rest their defence on
custom and fashionable practice. We must descend,
therefore, to talk with them according to their
capacities. Now, if we make custom the rule of our actions,
and are not able to regulate it on the principles of
right and fit, but on the practice of men, we should
at least take for our imitation the wisest and most
polished nations of the world, and not the most
savage and barbarous. We should rather foUow
the example of the Greeks and Romans than the
Goths and Vandals. *
Now, amongst the Greeks and Romans, who
did not want spirit, (to use the fashionable cant,)
the practice of duelling was entirely unknown
throughout the whole period of the existence of
those great and extended empires. It came in
with those desolators of the flourishing works of
God, the Goths and Vandals of the North. Nor
even amongst these did it make an original part
of that rude and sturdy policy which more settled
times made serve for the foundation of civil liberty.
Nor did the feudal law itself, so well fitted to per
petuate war and discord, hit upon this rare inven
tion of the duel to make the sword more widely
destructive. Its parent was not the fierceness of savage man-

442 CHARGES AND SERMONS,
ners ; these were only the nurse. It was brought
into the world by that old breeder of monsters —
SUPERSTITION, When these northern Pagans suffered themselves
to embrace Christianity, they received their new
religion in a very corrupt condition from Rome ;
and church-men and church-canons having by
that means polluted the pure source of justice in
the civil courts, they soon borrowed from the
Jewish Law, misunderstood, that species of civil
process called trials ordeal, in which the appeal
is made to Heaven. When things were got into
this train, the trials ordeal by combat best suited
the fiery temper of Gothic valour. It was so fre
quently demanded of the hiagistrate, and thence
became so well established in practice, that the
courts of justice were turned into a kind of tilt-
yard. Nor did this satisfy the impatience ofthese
savage contenders. Instead of demanding the
combat of the magistrate, they abridged the pro
cess by demanding it of one another. Such was
the base original of the modern duel. It began in
superstition ; it was nourished in barbarism ; and
it is supported by impiety and injustice.
Now, that our swordsmen, who pretend to e:x.-
treme politeness, and do more than pretend to a
perfect freedom from what they call superstition,
should choose to follow the practice of savage
bigots, rather than the polished manners of Greek
and 'Ronxan freemen and freethinkers, is not a Httle

DUELLING. 443
extraordinary. But their plea (as we have said) is
ignorance, and it would be uncandid to push them
further. A something better defence of this odious prac
tice is, the preservation and support of honour.
The word is, without doubt, a good word ; and, if
the thing meant by it was as substantial as plaus
ible, it could not be too carefully guarded.
By HONOUR, therefore, they would have us
think they mean such a conduct throughout life as
procures solid reputation to a man's self, and benefit
to the community of which he is a member.
The finest gentleman would be ashamed to con
fess that this is not a true definition of his honour ;
for what other way is there in all nature to acquire
this glory but by the strict observance of the laws
of God and of the magistrate ? But it has been
shown that this barbarous mode of preserving ho
nour violates our duty to both ; so that whatever
honour is thus preserved or procured, is not the
genuine honour above defined, but a bastard spe
cies — a counterfeit — an impostor, whose origin is
this : — In times of ignorance or licentiousness,
many actions, in themselves to be condemned, do,
by a concurrence of fortuitous circumstances, pass
for RIGHT, or what affords them an easier recep
tion, for GREAT, and give the actor who has the
boldness to commit them vulgar fame and ce
lebrity. And for this bastard honour, the idol of
the swordsman's devotion, he is ready to sacrifice

444 CHARGES AND SERMONS.
his life and fortune, and what is dearer to the true
soldier, all honest glory.
The wise and foolish are equaUy solicitous for
the preservation of this brightest jewel of human
Hfe — their honour. In this they differ, — the wise
man is careful that his honour rises upon reason
and virtue ; the other is content to take for honour
whatever the great drag-net of time brings fashion
ably down under that sacred denomination.
Law and religion, indeed, have given him one
standard measure of honour ; but he wilfully fol
lows another, — a shifting phantom raised by his
lusts and passions.
Another defence or excuse for the practice of
duelling (that is for assuming the office of judge
and executioner in his own cause,) is, that courts
of justice give us no relief in our complaints of
violated honour : a certain sign that the injuries
complained of are of so trifling and fantastic a
nature, that it would dishonour a court of justice
to busy itself about them. Against all real and
substantial injuries the laws have provided sub
stantial remedies ; and the courts of justice daily
dispense them with a care, minuteness, and pre
cision altogether admirable. But against imaginary
injuries it would be endless, it would be impossible
to make provision; and I call those injuries ima
ginary which not nature and reason, but capricious
custom and corrupt manners, create or aggravate.
But supposing, what is not to be granted, that

DUELLING, 445
the magistrate, in his estabhshed courts of law,
in certain cases, has not provided for the repa
ration of trifling injuries ; — is the person offended
to fly to arms for satisfaction? This would be
(as much as in him lay) to dissolve the bonds
of society, and to reduce us back to the disorders
of savage Hfe ; the miseries of which state arose
from every tnan being his own avenger. To
remedy this evil, social life was introduced, and
a common arbiter established. But is perfection
to be found in any human institution ? If life,
property, and reputation be in general secured
by the laws of society, this is more than enough
to dispose every good man to bear with content
the small inconveniences which may possibly
exist in that to which he belongs.
Another more plausible excuse for this barba
rous practice, is peculiar to the military gentle
men. They tell us, "they are driven to the field
by necessity; that they must either meet their
adversary on the point of their swords, when he
calls them thither ; or their swords, or, what is
worse, themselves, must be broken for cowardice."
But we should be cautious how we credit so
strange a story. The laws of a Christian Legis
lature make slaughter by the duellist a capital
crime ; and yet they would persuade us that the
supreme magistrate, the executor of those laws,
punishes with almost equal severity such who are
disposed to avoid the breach of them. Surely

446 CHARGES AND SERMONS,
there must be some mistake in this matter. And
on further inquiry, they confess that authority is
driven, as it were, to this severe measure, for
that the officers of the corps will no longer roll
with that poltroon, who chooses rather to obey the
laws of his country than their insolent practice
in the breach of them. If there be any truth in
this strange story, it hath not yet reached the
ears of the sovereign, who would most assuredly
send those who for this reason refuse to roll with
him in their corps, to roU with the less audacious
infringers of the laws in Newgate.
But in reality we may be assured that this in
consistent account of the military discipline, can
be no other than the absurd gloss of a few sense
less subalterns to support a wicked practice of
murder, for which (though disguised under the
varnish of honour) our equal laws send the
criminal to the gallows.
If there be any truth in the encouragement
given to duelling amongst military men, it must
have arisen from a very mistaken principle, that
the duellist makes the best soldier ; no more true,
in fact, than that a good buffoon makes the best
actor ; which we know by experience to be false.
For that species of courage which makes the
duellist, wiU unmake the soldier. The soldier is
irresistible in war, when inflamed with the love of
his country, and impatient to revenge its injuries.
The duellist becomes terrible in peace, by setting

DUELLING. 447
the laws of his country at nought, and by re
venging his own injuries instead of those of the
public. But from excusing, the duellist rises at length
to that degree of folly as to recommend, his
practice to society. He pretends " that it is so
far from being hurtful or injurious to the pubhc,
that it is the true source of good manners ; one
of the main blessings of social life ; that these
terrors of the sword teach men civility and polite
ness in their converse with one another, which
would become savage and brutal, but for this curb
on the passions."
Who would not think, but that this was a Pagan
apologist addressing himself to a Pagan nation,
ignorant of any other method to preserve peace
and good manners than the sword at the throat,
and who had never yet heard of the heavenly
precepts of brotherly -love and forgiveness. But
this is a Christian country, at least in pro
fession ; and the Bible, which lies open to all,
shews us a more excellent way to peace. The
swordsman, perhaps, may have read that the
blessed Founder of our faith, told His foUowers,
that He came to send a sword upon earth, that
is, dueUists and cut-throats ; but these were sent
Hke snakes and vipers, and aU other noxious
animals, for punishment, in his wrath : the genuine
fruits of his coming were, peace and good will to
mankind.

448 "CHARGES AND SERMONS.
Since, then, good manners, (the outward sign,
at least, of peace and good will,) is so useful to
society that God has provided one security for it,
and man another, viz, the Gospel and the Duel,
let us aim at a reasonable choice.
Now it is a maxim, even in Pagan politics,
that when the same good can be procured two
ways, the one by tolerating a less evil, the other
by practising a greater good, the latter is to be
preferred. The swordsman and I are agreed, that polite
ness and civility in human converse is a good
to be procured. He proposes to do it by the
Pagan tolerance of evil; I hy eschewing aU evil,
according to the rules of the Gospel.
This is not all. He is contented, if by his
method he introduces amongst men such a be
haviour as is the exterior mark of peace and good
will. Mine goes further, and by mending the
heart secures the government of the tongue.
Whose method is more effectual and lasting,
shall be left to themselves.
To sum up all in a word, I have shewn that
the practice of duelling contradicts common
sense, affronts the laws of society, and violates
the sanctity of religion.
I have exposed the excuses, the justifications,
and the recommendations of the practice, from
whence it appears to be inconsistent with a free

DUELLING. 449
society erected on the principles of reason and
nature. False honour may thus tinsel over the gaudy
slaves of an absolute master ; and it may be of a
piece with the unjust administration of despotic
power ; but that solid honour springing from the
practice of virtue is the prize of the free citizen,
and which he understands can be neither gained
nor kept, but by the observance of the laws of
that society, and the precepts of that religion,
which he has bound himself to obey, and which he
professes to believe.*
* This subject has been handled with great force of reason,
in an admirable argument by the great Lord Bacon, (then Sir
Francis Bacon, and Attorney General,) in a charge upon an in
formation in the Star Chamber, against Priest and Wright, 10 and
1 1 Jac. I. printed in the " Resuscitatio," by his chaplain Rawley.

FlNlS.

2 G

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