THE VALENTINE MUSEUM, 
 BICHMCNO, VIRGINIA. 
 
 Mann S. Valentine, 
 
 % RICHMOND. 
 
 m 10. 
 
 Mi 
 
 / 
 
bo 
 
THE 
 
 GNITTf 
 
 OF 
 
 HUMAN NATURE; 
 
 OR, A BRIEF ACCOUNT OF 
 
 THE CERTAIN AND ESTABLISHED MEANS 
 
 FOR ATTAINING 
 
 THE TRUE END OF OUR EXISTENCE. 
 
 IN FOUR BOOKS. 
 
 1. OF PRUDENCE, 3. OF VIRTUE, 
 
 2. Or KNOWLEDGE, 4 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 M Y JAME 5 BURGH. 
 
 fl Qui se ipse norit, intelliget se habere aliquid Divinum, semperque 
 " et sentiet et faciet aliquid tanto munere dignum." 
 
 Cicero. 
 
 The third American, from the first London. Edition. 
 
 PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY JAMES ORAM. 
 1812. 
 
tv,& 
 
 TO 
 
 HER ROYAL HIGHNESS 
 
 THE 
 
 PRINCESS DOWAGER OF WALES. 
 
 May it please Your Royal Highness, 
 
 \V ERE the subject of the following sheets treated in a 
 manner suitable to its importance, the work would make an 
 offering worthy of a Princess, whose character and con- 
 duct exhibit so fair a pattern of the Dignity of Human 
 Nature. The gracious condescension voluntarily shown to 
 the Author of the following weak Essay, by Your Roy- 
 al Highness, on various occasions (which he chooses to 
 touch upon in the slightest manner possible, not from an 
 unnatural and affected insensibility but to avoid imputations 
 altogether contrary to his temper and intentions J encou- 
 raged him humbly to hope, that Your Royal Highness 
 would deign to patronise a work, which, however imper- 
 fectly executed, Your Royal Highness knows to be 
 sincerely intended for the purpose, which You have above 
 all things at heart ; The general advancement of truth, 
 virtue, and religion. 
 
 Were it suitable to the rank and abilities of the author, 
 it would be very much so to the design of the following 
 ?vork, would make one of the noblest parts of it, and might, 
 in happier times than ours, prove of advantage to those of 
 the higher ranks in life, and, through them to a whole peo- 
 ple ; to labour to delineate a character, and hold forth an 
 example, of which there is, in this part of the world, but- 
 one person, that ought not to esteem it an honour to be the 
 imitator. But to say nothing of the disproportionate quali- 
 fications of the writer for so delicate an undertaking, there 
 is but little reason, in this thoughtless and voluptuous age, 
 
4 DEDICATION. 
 
 to expect any very great and extensive good effects from 
 proposing to general imitation the most amiable and perfect 
 model. For, alas, to admire is one thing, and to emulate^ 
 another : And it is even to be doubted, whether Your Roy- 
 al Highness has influence enough to change the fashion 
 in favour of virtue and religion. While a continual rouna 
 of idle and expensive amusements fi '11 up the bulk of our 
 time, and is looked upon as the very Dignity of High Life; 
 •while the rape of gaming is carried to an excess beyond 
 example, so that even the sacred day of rest brings no 
 rest from that endless drudgery, and children in their non- 
 age, are, to the disgrace of common sense, initiated by 
 masters hired for the purpose, and furnished with printed 
 systems of the liberal science of card-playing ; while the 
 grand study of people of rank is, How to drown thought : 
 While such is the genius of the age, what hope is there, 
 that the retired and unaffected virtues, which dazzle not 
 the common eye, and appear in their true excellence only 
 to Him, who sees not as man sees, should allure the un- 
 thinking to imitation ! But when the fluttering tribe, who 
 form the crowd at routs and masquerades, are gone down to 
 the silent grave, and have entered upon a state, where they 
 will flnd, amusement was not the end of their creation ; 
 then will the honours of the best of consorts, and of pa- 
 rents, shine conspicuous on the roll of fame, the delight of 
 a wiser race, and have a place among the celebrated names 
 of Arria, Cornelia, Porcia, Marcia, Attia, Aurelia, and 
 others, the glory of the amiable sex, whose charms, other 
 than of paint, or dress, or ostentation, will ever bloom 
 with unfading splendour. 
 
 Proceed, illustrious Princess! Continue Your 
 pious cares informing Your lovely Offspring to virtue and 
 to glory. The same superior prudence, which has enabled 
 You, in a country where licentiousness of speech is consid- 
 ered by the people as one of their most valuable privileges, 
 to sustain a character of such dignity, that malice itself 
 struck silent, stands awed by native goodness 'and unaffect- 
 ed greatness of mind ; the same Divine support wh.ich has 
 saved You from sinking under that affliction which to a deli- 
 cate spirit, must have been beyond expression severe ; the 
 same inspiring Grace, which has formed Your rising fami- 
 ly so perfectly to Your wishes, that regularity and piety 
 
DEDICATION. 5 
 
 are not only their practice, but their pleasure ; the same 
 all-ruling Providence, whose peculiar care Your Royal 
 Highness has ever been, will bri?ig Your worthy labours 
 to a happy issue. There is not a virtue You can establish 
 in the mind of any of Your numerous race, that may not 
 hereafter give happiness to a kingdom. Every spark of 
 goodness kindled by Your care, and nourished by the breath 
 of Heaven, may shine a propitious star on Europe. And 
 the concentred glories of the whole, will, in the higher re- 
 gions., shed such splendours on Your future elevation, tlyut 
 You will forget that ever there was a time when You was the 
 most amiable and admired character in this obscure world. 
 
 To Your Royal Highness, who knoivs that the same 
 Divine Authority which has given to those w/io turn many 
 to righteousness, ground to hope, that they shall hereafter 
 shine as stars for ever and ever, has also taught us, that 
 they who have laboured the most for the general advance- 
 ment of virtue, are still to consider tliemselves as unprofit- 
 able servants, having done only xvliat they ought ; to Your 
 Royal Highness, nothing that is here said will appear 
 otherwise than as a set of thoughts naturally fiowing from 
 the artless pen of a writer, independent in temper, and 
 happy in the prospect of passing his days in a private and 
 useful station ; but warmed with the idea of uncommon ex- 
 cellence, and the hope of extensive advantage to mankind, 
 from the pious labours of the best of Princesses. 
 
 That the mild ajid gentle reign of the most venerable oj 
 monarchs, the father of his people, may be long and pros- 
 perous, and that he may be blessed of the King of kings in 
 his person and family ; that public and private virtue, and 
 true religion, may yet again raise their drooping heads ; 
 that luxury, infidelity, corruption, and perjury, may sink 
 to the regions of darkness, whence they first arose ; and 
 that heaven may again smile propitious on these once highly 
 favoured nations ; that the inestimable life of Your Roy- 
 al Highness may be long preserved as a blessing to your 
 family, and in them to mankind, and that your noble exam- 
 ple may be more studied and imitated ; that his Royal 
 Highness the Prince of Wales, and the other branches of 
 your illustrious house may be the peculiar care of heaven, 
 a blessing to the world and a crown of glory to Your Roy- 
 al Highness, are the unfeigned xvishes of one, whom 
 
6 DEDICATION, 
 
 ambition would never have prompted ( though your gracious 
 goodness has J to aspire to the honour of subscribing him- 
 self thus publicly, 
 
 (May it please Your Royal Highness^ 
 
 Your Royal Highness' 
 
 Most devoted and 
 
 Most faithful humble servant, 
 
 JAMES BURGH. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 OeNERAL Design of the Work . 
 
 The Author's Apology .... 
 
 General Plan ...... 
 
 To whom chiefly addressed .... 
 
 Importance of setting out in Life with proper Dignity 
 Prudence, its advantages .... 
 
 General Causes of imprudent Conduct 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Page 
 17 
 ib. 
 18 
 19 
 ib. 
 20 
 ib. 
 
 OF PRUDENCE IN CONVERSATION. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Of treating the Characters of absent Persons 
 Mischiefs of a turn to Scandal 
 
 22 
 ib. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Of venting singular Opinons 
 
 Of Modesty in disputing » 
 
 Of being satirical upon the Infirmities of others 
 
 Of Rallying, and receiving Railery 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Of Secrecy and Discretion 
 
 Of the Choice of Companions and Friends 
 
 Of Boasting or Puffing 
 
 Of the Company of Ladies 
 
 Of Story-telling 
 
 Of Visiting where there is no real Friendship 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Of Swearing and Obscenity 
 
 Of Complaisance 
 
 Of Imitation of the best Models 
 
 Of Overbearing 
 
 Of a passionate Behaviour 
 
 Of Dress, and the Circumstantials of Behaviour 
 
 24 
 ib. 
 
 25 
 
 26 
 
 26 
 27 
 30 
 32 
 34 
 ib. 
 
 35 
 
 36 
 ib. 
 37 
 ib. 
 39 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 One hundred and twenty Miscellaneous Directions on Prudence in 
 versation ........ 
 
 Con. 
 
g CONTENTS. 
 
 PART II. 
 OF PRUDENCE IN ACTION 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Of following" Advice, and Submission to Superiors , . SS 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Of Methods in Business ...... 55 
 
 Of Application . . .... ib. 
 
 Of Attention to Times and Opportunities ... 57 
 
 Of Trusting to others ...... ib. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Of Frugality and Economy ...... 58 
 
 Of Diversions . . . . ... . t 62 
 
 SECTION IV* 
 
 Of Over-trading ... .... 64 
 
 Of Integrity in Dealing, prudentially considered ... 66 
 
 Of lending Money ...... ib. 
 
 Of Caution in dealing with artful People . . . . ib. 
 
 Of finding* out the true Characters of Men ... 67 
 
 Of Promisers ........ 68 
 
 Of Prudence in case of being obliged to stop Payments . . ib. 
 
 Of the Connexions between the different Parts of Men's Characters 69 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 Of Regard to the Opinion of Otliers .... 73 
 
 Of Quarrels ..... j .. 74 
 
 Of Duels . „ . . ... . . 75 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 Of Marriage, and Directions for proceeding in a judicious Manner in 
 that important Concern . . . i . . 76 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 Of the Management of Children ..... 82 
 
 Of the bodily Infirmities of Children .... 91 
 
 SECTION VIII. 
 
 Of the peculiar Management of Daughters, and Education proper for them 94 
 
 SECTION IX. 
 
 Of placing out Youth, intended for Business ... 96 
 
 SECTION X. 
 
 Of choosing Employments for Sons according to their various Capaci- 
 ties and Turns of Mind ...» . . 97 
 Of providing Fortunes for Sons ..... 99 
 
CONTENDS. 9 
 
 SECTION XI. 
 
 Of settling Children of both Sexes in Life - i . 100 
 
 SECTION XII. 
 Of retiring from Business, and Requisites formaking Retirement agreeable 101 
 
 SECTION XIII. 
 Of Disposing of Effects by Will • • • • . 102 
 
 SECTION XIV. 
 
 Of Old Age, and Requisites for passing through it, and bearing its Infir- 
 mities with Dignity . . . . , jq* 
 
 SECTION XV. 
 
 Of the Dignity of Female Life, prudentially considered , 105 
 
 SECTION XVI. 
 Two Hundred Miscellaneous Directions on Prudence in Action , 108 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Knowledge valuable, though not a subject of Vanity . J 129 
 
 Immense Difference between an improved and an uncultivated Mind 131 
 The Improvement of the Mind by Knowledge an indispensable Part of 
 
 our Duty . . . \ ■ r .,-,<» 
 
 Human Knowledge, scanty as it is, truly admirable '. " ij£ 
 
 Despisers of Knowledge the Disgrace of the Species . ] 136 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Of Education from Infancy, and necessity of laying the Foundation of all 
 Improvements in the Knowledge of Morality . . . 139 
 
 Objection answered . . . 14. 
 
 Of Moral Principles fit to be established in the Minds of Children at 
 three or four Years of Age ... Jh 
 
 Essay toward a Method of instructing Youth in Morals and Religion 
 at private Places of Education . . . . . j 42 
 
 Of Exciting in them a Desire to understand Holy Scripture *. 144 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Intention and Method of Education in Human Learning . 149 
 
 Plan of Education from six Years of Age to the finishing of the Pue- 
 rile Studies .... 15O 
 Queries on the Constitution and Method in certain Places of Education ib- 
 Cuncurrence of the Parents necessary , J54 
 
 SECTION III. 
 Process of Education from four Years of A^e ; and first, of Grammar 
 
 arm lotm • 
 
 15S 
 
 Of French, and proper Books recommended .' ' .' 157 
 
 Uf Latin Authors proper to be read from the beginning to twelve Years 
 
 ot A £C . . ib 
 
 B 
 
10 CONTENTS. 
 
 Of Writing- and Arithmetic, and proper Books . . . 159 
 
 Of Geometry, and proper Books . . . ib. 
 
 Of 'he Greek Language, and proper Authors ... ib. 
 Of Latin Authors' proper to be read from twelve or fourteen Years of Age 
 
 and upwards . ... . . . . ib. 
 
 Of improving their Elocution ..... 160 
 
 Of giving them a Tincture of the Principles of Criticism . . ib. 
 
 Or Book-keeping ....... 161 
 
 Of the Knowledge of the Globes, and Geography, and proper Books ib. 
 
 Of Algebra, and proper Books . . . . . 162 
 
 Of Chronology, and Rudiments of History . . . ib. 
 
 Of rational Logic ....... ib. 
 
 Of Experimental Philosophy, and proper Books, and Apparatus . 163 
 
 Of Dancing, Fencing, and other ornamental Accomplishments . ib. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 
 Of Manly Studies, or those improvements which a Gentleman must carry 
 on by himself, after the finishing of his Education, and preparatory 
 Books f . ... . . . . 165 
 
 Importance of getting early into a good Method of Study . . 166 
 
 Of History, Biography, Theory of Government, Law, Commerce, Econ- 
 omies, and Ethics, and proper Books .... 168 
 
 Great Advantages of the Study of History and Biography; and Authors, 
 ancient and modern ...... ib. 
 
 Of Ecclesiastical History, and proper Books . . . 173 
 
 O. the Theory of Government and Law, and proper ilooks . . 175 
 
 Or Commerce, and proper Books ..... ib. 
 
 Of the Human Mind, and proper Books .... 176 
 
 Of Economies, and proper Books ..... 177 
 
 Of Ethics, and proper Books ..... ib. 
 
 Of Physiology, or the Knowledge of Nature, Advantages of that Study ib. 
 
 Of the higher parts of pure Mathematics, and proper Books . 179 
 
 Of the Newtonian Philosophy . ... 185 
 
 General List of Books on the various Parts of Natural Fhilosophy, and 
 Mixt Mathematics . ..... ib. 
 
 Apparatus for Experimental Philosophy .... 186 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 Of forming a Taste in polite Learning and Arts . . 186 
 
 Error in carrying this to Excess . . . • • 187 
 
 Extravagant Admiration of the Ancients to the unjust Disparagement of 
 
 the Moderns . - . . . . . 189 
 
 General List of the Writers in Eellcs Lettres, and polite Arts, ancient 
 
 and modern ....... 190 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 Of Travel, its Use, and Perversion .... 193 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 Of the comparative Importance of the various Branches of Knowledge, 
 respectively, and with regard to different Ranks and Stations in Life 195 
 
 SECTION VIII. 
 
 Cautions against the common Errors in Study, and first, Of Over-reading 201 
 Of too confined Studies , . . . . . • 304 
 
 Cii' ; ,u -uini: Studies, inconsistent with one another at the same time ib. 
 
 Of reading by Fits ..... ib- 
 
CONTENTS. i l 
 
 Page 
 
 of laborious Trifling . . .... 204 
 
 Of Laziness in Study . . . • . . ib. 
 
 Of Heading for Amusement only ..... ib. 
 
 Of knowing- tbe Extent of one's natural Abilities . . 2U5 
 
 Of the effects of People's natural Tempers upon their Improvement 206 
 
 Of a Turn to disputing- without sufficient Funds of Knowledge . 208 
 
 Of Partial Heading- • • • • . ' . 209 
 
 Of the chief Hindrances to Improvement .... 210 
 
 Of Unsteadiness in Opinion . . . • . . 212 
 
 Of Declamatory Writers . . - . _ . . 215 
 
 Directions for examining difficult and complex Subjects . ib. 
 
 Clearness of moral Subjects compared with scientific . . 216 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 That the chief Dignity of Human Nature consists in Man's being" a moral 
 
 Agent . . . . . . . 218 
 
 Our Faculties safely trusted, and not to be doubted by us . ib. 
 
 Certainty attainable in Morals, as well as other Subjects . 221 
 
 Certainty attainable by Sensation, Intuition, Deduction, Testimony, and 
 
 Revelation ......." 225 
 
 All Evidence finally resolvable into Intuition ... ib. 
 
 All Truths alike certain ; but not alike obvious . . 227 
 
 Recapitulation of the above Reasonings on Certainty . . 229 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 The Being and Attributes of God established, as the Foundation of Morality 231 
 Something exists, a Truth which no Man can doubt . . 232 
 
 Something must, therefore, have always existed, which exists necessarily 233 
 For an infinite Succession of dependent Causes produced one by another 
 
 is not a satisfying Account, how something comes to exist now r ib. 
 
 Nor is the material World, nor Chance, the original Cause .of Existence ib. 
 The first Cause of Existence must be One, viz. perfect in all possible con- 
 sistent Attributes — in Wisdom — in Goodness — in Power — in Truth, or 
 Rectitude— and in every other natural and moral Attribute 236 
 
 That Virtue, or Rectitude," in a created Being, is, a Conformity in Dis- 
 position and Practice to the necessary and unchangeable Rectitude 
 of the Divine N active ...... ib. 
 
 The first Cause not to be considered, as made up of his several Attributes, 
 
 any more than the Human Mind as made up of its several Faculties 237 
 An Essay toward the most perfect Idea the Human Mind can form of Deity 239 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 An Idea of tbe Divine Scheme in Creation . . • 240 
 
 That an Universe must, in Consequence of the infinite Wisdom of the 
 Creator, be complete, and without Chasms between the various Or- 
 ders of Beings ....... 241 
 
 The Happiness of conscious Beings, the only End for which they were 
 brought into Existence ...... 242 
 
 Happiness, its Foundation ....... 243 
 
 Universal and regular Concurrence of all Parts of the System to one 
 great End absolutely necessary to Universal Perfection and Happiness 244 
 
 Happiness of different conscious Beings different, and in what it res- 
 pectively consists . ..... ib. 
 
 The inanimate, or material Part of the Creation, how made to answer 
 the Divine Intention ...... 246 
 
 Tiie animal, irrational Natures, how brought to perform their Part in 
 the Universal Scheme . . . , . . 24? 
 
%2 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 The rational Word of incomparably greater Consequence in the Uni. 
 ▼ersal System, than the other two .... 247 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Necessary, in order to understand, wherein the Concurrence of the Hu- 
 man Species, with the Universal Scheme, consists, to consider a 
 little the Nature of Man ..... 248 
 
 That we are equally at a Loss about the essential Nature of our Bo- 
 dies and our Souls ...... 249 
 
 Wherein our Superiority to the animal Creation chiefly consists 251 
 
 Our nature and State altogether incomprehensible, without taking in the 
 View of oui being intended for Immortality ... ib. 
 
 Proofs ot the Immortality of the Soul taken first from its Nature ib. 
 
 Difficulty of the natural Impressions made bj the Soul and Body, cleared 
 up, so far as relates to their being of different Natures . 253 
 
 Presumptions in Favour of the Opinion of the Immortality of the Soul, 
 and its passing through different successive States, from Analogy 254 
 
 Proof's of the li mortality of the Soul, and a future State, from the 
 moral Attributes of God, the most convincing of any, except those 
 which Revelation yields ..... 255 
 
 Unequal Distribution of Happiness among the inferior creatures, con- 
 sidered, so far as it aficcis the Argument . . 257 
 
 The most elevated Mind has the best Assurances of its own Immortality 262 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Man's present Station, in regard to his Prospect for Futurity, desirable 262 
 
 Th t the tonne\ion between the Conduct of moral Agents and their final 
 State, with respect to Happiness or Mjser\, is reasonable and necessary 266 
 
 That there is, notwithstanding this, an absolute, independent Rectitude, 
 and the contrary, in the Actions of moi ai agents, separate from all 
 Consideration of consequent Happiness, or Misery, which Rectitude 
 is founded in the Divine Attribute of Rectitude . . ib. 
 
 That however, the natural consequences of Actions, are in general a 
 »ery sufficient Criterion, by which to try, whether they be morally 
 good or evil . . ..... 26S 
 
 N" possible Scheme for bringing the human Species to a spontaneous 
 Choice of Virtue, or to a due Concurrence in their Sphere, with the 
 general Intention of the Governor of the Woild: but Discipline 269 
 
 That Human Virtue consists in tin proper Application, aid due Im- 
 provement, of our several Powers .... ib. 
 
 Human Liberty of Agency established, and Objections answered 270 
 
 Probable that all created, rational Beings are formed to Virtue in the 
 same Manner as our Species, to wit, by Discipline, and Habit 272 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 That the State, we find ourselves in, is very proper for a state of Dis- 
 cipline in Virtue .... . 273 
 
 Various Instructions for this purpose presented to us by Nature, by 
 o>ir own Bodies and Minds, by the Constitution and Course of the 
 World, and above all by Revelation . • • 274 
 
 The whole Sptcies formed naturally capable of future Happiness 278 
 
 Difficulties in the Divine Economy of the meral World attempted to 
 be cleared up .... -80 
 
 Difficulties to be expected, and even to be looked upon as a Beauty, 
 ;:i a Scheme so august ar.d extensive .... 288 
 
CONTENTS. 13 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 Page 
 That our Species, and all rational Agents, in order to their perform- 
 ing' their Part properly, and contributing to Universal Perfection and 
 Happiness, must resolve to act agreeably to the threefold Obliga- 
 tion, which they are under, to wit, with regard to Themselves, their 
 Fellow creatures, and the r Creator . . . 290 
 
 Our Duty, with respect to Ourselves, consists in the proper Care of 
 
 the two Parts of our Nature, the mental* and the bodily . ib. 
 
 Of the Passions or Motions of the Mind .... 292 
 
 Previous Directions necessary toward the due Regulation of the Passions 293 
 Absurdity of Pride, and Advantages of Humility . . . 295 
 
 Necessity of Self-knowledge, and of Self-reverence . . 298 
 
 General Rule for the Conduct of the Passions . . 300 
 
 Of the Passion of Love, or Desire, its proper Objects, and due Regulation ib. 
 Of Self-love ....... 302 
 
 Of Ambition, or Desire of Praise ..... 303 
 
 Of Anger ........ 304 
 
 Of the Passions of Envy, Malice, and Re\enge . . . 305 
 
 Of Sympathy ....... 308 
 
 Of Fear ........ ib. 
 
 Of Grief ........ 309 
 
 Of the Love of Life ....... 310 
 
 Of the Lo^e of Riches ...... 311 
 
 Of the Appetites of Hunger and Thirst, the Use and Abuse of them 312 
 Of the mutual Desires of the Sexes . . .316 
 
 Of the Love of Sleep and Indulgence — of Diversions — and of Finery in 
 Dress ... . .... 319 
 
 SECTION VIJ. 
 
 Of our Obligations with respect to our Fellow-creatures, the Foundation 
 of all which Duties is Benevolence . . . 323 
 
 Self-love, why made the Measure of our Benevolence . . 324 
 
 Summary of bur Duty to our Fellow-creatures ... ib. 
 
 Of Negative Goodness ...... 325 
 
 Of Justice and Injustice, with respect to our Neighbour's property — to 
 
 his Reputation— to his Person — and to his Soul . . 328 
 
 Of social Duties, and first, Of the Love of our Country . v 338 
 
 Reciprocal Duties of Parents and Children — of Spiritual Pastors and 
 their Flocks —of Teach-rs and Scholars —of Masters and Servants — of 
 Husbands and Wives — of collateral Relations — of Friends— of the 
 Rich and poor ....... 345 
 
 Duty of the Wise and learned, and all who are possessed of uncommon 
 Talents and Advantages ...... 348 
 
 Duty to Benefactors and Enemies ..... ib. 
 
 Divine Intention in engaging us in such a Variety of Connexions . ib. 
 
 Self-examination on the foregoing Heads recommended . . 349 
 
 SECTION VIII. 
 
 Of our Obligations with respect to our Creator ; and first, Of impres- 
 sing our Minds with a rational and practical Belief of his Existence 351 
 Of his Right to our Obedience and Adoration . . . 352 
 
 Useful Moral Reflections on the Divine Attributes . . . 354 
 
 On the Omnipresence of God — his Eternity — his Power — his Wisdom — 
 and his Goodness ....... 355 
 
 Of the Dutv of Prayer, and Objections answered . . 366 
 
 Of Public Worship ...... 372 
 
 * hnprovetiient of the Understanding treated of in the foregoing Bosk. 
 
14 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 Of Family Religion . . . * 372 
 
 Of Praising God ....... 375 
 
 Amazing Stupidity of Numbers of Mankind, who altogether neglect their 
 Creator, and all the Duty they owe him .... 377 
 
 SECTION IX. 
 
 One Hundred and Sixty Miscellaneous Thoughts, and Directions, chiefly 
 Moral ........ 878 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 That supposing it possible, or probable, that a Revelation may have 
 been given by God, it is a Duty of .Natural Religion to inquire 
 with Candour, into its Pretensions, and to give it a proper Reception 397 
 Th t there is nothing absurd, or incredible, in supposing that a Re- 
 velation may have been given ..... 398 
 Of tiie Guiit of wilfull) opposing, or neglecting, a Revelation from God 399 
 Of the Wisdom of attending to Revelation ... ib. 
 A direct Revealed Law highly proper and fit for such Beings as Mankind 400 
 Revelation given as a Fart of our Trial and Discipline . . ib. 
 The World probably never wholly without a Revelation . 401 
 Previous Requisites for a proper Inquiry inio Revelation . 402. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Previous Objections against a Revelation in general, ar.d that of Scripture 
 in particular, considered. And first, Of the "Need Mankind stood in, of 
 express Information from Heaven, in answer to the Objection of the 
 Sufficiency of Human Reason f r all Moral Purposes . . 403 
 
 The Hottentots, and other barbarous Nations, the onl\ fair Examples of 
 the Reach of mere Human Reason ; most Parts of the civilized World 
 having been partly illuminated by Revelation, and therefore not altogeth- 
 er in a State of Nature .... . 404 
 
 Of the State of the Antediluvian and succeeding Times, and Countries, 
 in which Revelation was but little known ... ib. 
 
 Of the Incapacity of nitre Human Reason* in religious Matters, as it 
 appears in the Mahometan and Popish Invenn ds . . 407 
 
 Revelation not intended 10 supersede, but improve Reason . 408 
 
 Objection, Of the Abuse of Revelation, by weak or designing Men, 
 considered ....... 409 
 
 Of its bi ing unworthy of the Divine Wisdom to have Recourse to an 
 extraordin try Interposition .... 410 
 
 Revelation analogous to the Constitution and Course of the World 411 
 
 Absurdity of opposing Revelation on account of its not suiting our pre-con- 
 ceived Notions . . . . . . • 412 
 
 Difficulties to be expected in a Revelation from God . . 414 
 
 Difficulties no objection ; though direct absurdities and Contradictions are 416 
 
 That Revelation might be expected to suit our Notions in some particu- 
 lars and in others to difier from them .... ib. 
 
 OftheScnpture-Siyle ...... 419 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 A Compendious View of the Scheme of Divine Revelation . 421 
 
 Thoughts on the Extent of the Prospect opened by Revelation . 422 
 
 The Accounts given by it, plainly superior to Human Sagacity . 423 
 
 Of tiie Creation — the Fail, and Death, its Consequence — of the first Pro- 
 phecy of a future Restoration :)f Mankind- of the general Deluge — the 
 Noachic Dispensation— the Tower of Babci — the Destruction of the Ci- 
 
CONTENTS. 15 
 
 Pag 
 ties of the plain — tne call of Abralunn — the miraculous History of his 
 Postery the Israelites and Jew* — the Divine Dispensation to that People 
 —and the Christian Scheme ..... 424 
 
 Reflections on the Whole > 436 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Consideration on some Particulars in Revealed Religion . 446 
 
 The Doctrine of Providence, though a Point of Natural Religion, more 
 properly considered under Revelation ; as receiving from thence its chief 
 Confirmations ....... ib. 
 
 Arguments for its Truth, first, from Reason, as from the Necessity of a 
 
 continued Divine Interposition, and Agency, in the Natural World 445 
 
 Other Arguments and Presumptions from Reason . . 446 
 
 Best established by Revelation . . . * . . 447 
 
 The Difficulties relating to the Effects of the Fall, upon the Species in gen- 
 eral, considered ....... 449 
 
 Of the general De>uge ...... 450 
 
 Of the Fallen Angels ...... 454 
 
 Of the Incarnation and Humiliation of Christ . . . 456 
 
 Of the Efficacy of his Death for the Restoration of Mankind . 459 
 
 Of tiie Resurrection of the Body ..... 460 
 
 Of the future general Judgment . . . . . 462 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Considerations on the Credibility of Scripture . . . 463 
 
 Requisites for thoroughly examining the various Kinds of Evidence for 
 
 Revelation . ..... ib. 
 
 Fallacious Proceedings of the Opposers of Revealed Religion . 464 
 
 Testimonies of Heathen Writers, which countenance Scripture . 465 
 
 Simplicity of the Narration, an Argument for the Truth of the Accounts 
 
 given in Holy Scripture . ..... 470 
 
 Of the Scripture Miracles . ..... 472" 
 
 Of the Difficulties of the Dsemoniacs .... 477 
 
 Of Prophecy . . . . . . . 482 
 
 A view of some of the most unquestionable Predictions of Holy Scripture ib. 
 No satisfactory Account to be given of the Prevalence, and Establishment 
 
 of Christianity, but its being really a Divine Institution . 496 
 
 That Christ must have either been truly the Son of God and Saviour of the 
 
 World, or an Impostor, or Madman .... 499 
 
 That lie could not be either of the latter, shown . . . 500 
 
 That the Christian Religion is not a pious Fraud, shown . . 502 
 
 Presumption in Favour of Christianity from the Conduct of those, who lived 
 
 at the Time of its first Appearance — of the Apostles, and particularly of 
 
 St. Paul ........ 506 
 
 The Character and Conduct, or Christ himself considered more particularly, 
 
 as a Presumption in Favour of his Religion . . . ' " 507 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Self-examination recommended to the Reader, on the chief Points in which 
 the Dignity of Human Nature consists 51* 
 
 
THE 
 
 OF 
 
 HUMAN NATURE. 
 
 BOOK I, 
 
 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 T. 
 
 O show what is truly great, ornamental, or useful, in 
 life ; to call the attention of mankind to objects worthy of 
 their regard, as rational and immortal beings ; to give a 
 brief, but comprehensive account of the certain and esta- 
 blished means for attaining the true end of our existence, 
 happiness in the present and future states ; is the design 
 of the following essay. 
 
 The motives which engaged the author to attempt a 
 task, confessedly too arduous for any single hand, were 
 such as to him seemed sufficient to justify his aspiring, 
 where even a failure, if not too shameful, must deserve 
 praise; as encouragements from persons, for whom he 
 joins with all mankind in having the most profound regard 
 and veneration ; the candor he has, in some more inconsi- 
 derable attempts, met with from the public ; the hope of 
 receiving improvement to himself from digesting and com- 
 piling such a work, and from the opinion of the judicious 
 upon it: these several considerations had deservedly their 
 respective influence. But what rendered the attemot more 
 
 C 
 
13 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 proper and necessary, was a direct view to the advantage 
 of some young persons, in other parts of the world, as well 
 as England, with whom his connexions are such, as to 
 give them a right to the fruit of his best abilities in the li- 
 terary kind; and who will not probably fail to pay a pecu- 
 liar regard to whatever comes from him. 
 
 To exhibit a comprehensive idea of the true Dignity 
 of Human Nature, it will be necessary to consider what 
 is fit for a being, who at present inhabits a perishing 
 body, itself an immortal spirit; for a creature capable of 
 action, of making himself and others happy in this world, 
 and of being rewarded and punished hereafter according 
 to his conduct ; for a nature fitted for social virtue, and 
 brought into existence to be prepared for glory and hap- 
 piness. 
 
 It is necessary, in order to a man's filling properly his 
 place in society, that he regulate his conduct by the laws 
 of prudence and virtue. To answer the Divine inten- 
 tion in furnishing him with rational faculties, it is evi- 
 dently proper, that he labour to improve those faculties 
 with knowledge. And in order to his gaining the favour 
 of the supreme Governor of the world, upon which alone 
 the happiness of all created beings depends, it is plain. 
 that obedience to his laws is indispensably necessary, 
 which comprehends religion, natural and revealed. The 
 Dignity of Human Nature may then be exhibited under 
 the four following heads, viz. 
 
 I. Prudence, or such a conduct with respect to se- 
 cular affairs, as is proper in itself, and suitable to re 
 spective circumstances, and naturally tends to make 
 a man happy in himself, and useful in society. 
 
 II. Knowledge, or the improvement and enlarge 
 ment of the faculties of the mind, as understanding, 
 memory, and imagination. 
 
 i II. \ i r t u e , or a conformity of disposition and prae 
 tieevto rectitude in all respects, as to ourselves, our 
 fellow-creatures, and our Maker. 
 
 IV. Revealed Religion, or a due inquiry in t c . 
 and pAoper regard to, any express revelation, which 
 the Supreme Being may have given to mankind. 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 19 
 
 The business of life is serious, not ludicrous. No or- 
 der of beings (especially of rationals) was brought into 
 existence wholly for pleasure and amusement ; but to fill 
 some useful place, and answer some important end in the 
 extensive scheme of the beneficent Creator. It is there- 
 fore evidently the interest, the wisdom, and the perfection 
 of every rational creature to look to it, that he perform 
 properly the duty of his appointed station : and in that he 
 will in the end find his glory and his happiness. 
 
 To give a brief view of what is principally necessary to 
 the dignity of human nature, it seems most methodical tr> 
 address the following directions chiefly to those readers, 
 who have not yet gone far in life, but are at the same time 
 arrived at an age capable of improving by proper helps, and 
 a due attention to their own interest, when faithfully point- 
 ed out to them. Proceeding, from the first setting out in 
 manly life, to the subjects of marriage and education of 
 children, and to the. conduct of more advanced age ; all 
 the stages of life may be taken in, and the true dignity qI 
 each pointed out. 
 
 That in the following essav there will of course be want- 
 ing a number of particulars, more or less conducive to the 
 dignity of our nature, is no more than may be expected in 
 a design so extensive. If it be found, that whoever con- 
 forms to these directions, and frames his character accord- 
 ing to the following plan, will have attained the most con- 
 siderable part of the perfection of human life ; it will be 
 acknowledged by the candid and ingenuous, that the 
 throwing together into one view, such a number of par- 
 riculars of principal importance, was attempting a service 
 useful to the public. 
 
 As young people have a prospect (though a precarious 
 one) of living to old age, it is of consequence, that they 
 be early put upon such courses, as will be likely to render 
 their passage through life, whether longer or shorter, easy 
 and comfortable. A person's setting out with proper 
 dignity, is of great importance toward his future pros- 
 perity ; as, on the contrary, one false step at the first en- 
 trance into life may prove irretrievable. Mankind fix 
 their attention upon the behaviour of a person just setting 
 oat, and according to the prudence or want of judgment, 
 
jQ OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 they observe in the first steps he takes, pronounce (too 
 precipitately indeed) upon the whole of his future con- 
 duct. Men, in active stations especially, ought to con-, 
 sider, that, at their first entrance into life, they will have 
 the ill-will and envy of many rivals and competitors to en- 
 counter ; and ought to remember, that it will require no 
 ordinary degree of sagacity to defeat the designs of those, 
 who think themselves interested to make a bad use of 
 every miscarriage. 
 
 To this end there is nothing so indispensably necessary 
 as prudence, or a turn of mind, which puts a person upon 
 looking forward, and enables him to judge rightly of the 
 consequences of his behaviour ; so as to avoid the mis- 
 fortunes into which rashness precipitates many, and to gain 
 the ends which a wise and a virtuous man ought to pursue. 
 
 It is evident to the meanest understanding, that there is 
 a fitness or unfitness, a suitableness or unsuitableness of 
 things to one another, which is not to be changed, with- 
 out some change pre-supposed in the things, or their cir- 
 cumstances. Prudence is the knowledge and observance 
 of this propriety of behaviour to times and circumstances, 
 and probable consequences, according to their several 
 varieties. 
 
 A turn to prudence is, like all the other endowments of 
 the mind, a natural gift, bestowed more or less liberally 
 upon different persons. Some give promises of sagacity 
 and coolness of judgment almost from their infancy ; and 
 others never arrive at the mature exercise of foresight or 
 reflection, but, in spite of the experience of many years, 
 seem children to the last. At the same time, this faculty, 
 is capable of great improvements in almost the weakest 
 heads ; could they but be brought to bestow a little 
 thought and attention, and to listen to reason, more than 
 to passion. 
 
 Imprudent conduct may be owing to a person's want of 
 opportunity for knowing the propriety of behaviour, which 
 is the case of young and unexperienced persons, who have 
 not been long enough in the world to know it ; and of rust- 
 ics, academics, and recluses, who, though they have lived 
 long enough, have not lived among mankind, so as to ac 
 mi ire a due knowledge of them. 
 
OF PRUDENCE 2 A 
 
 Imprudence is also ofien owing to some unhappy turn 
 of mind, which gives a cast to people's behaviour contrary 
 ;o their better knowledge. Of this kind are false modesty/ 
 indolence, and propensities to particular follies and vices- 
 
 Rashness is a great enemy to prudence. The natural 
 vivacity and warmth of youth, and of people of sanguine 
 tempers, makes this folly very conspicuous in them. It is 
 remarkable, that in most points of decorum, the female sex 
 have the advantage of us. This cannot be owing either to 
 any difference in natural abilities, or to greater experience 
 or knowledge of the world ; but to the natural timidity of 
 their tempers, joined with the delicacy of their education, 
 which prevents their behaving in the forward and precipi- 
 tate manner we often do, to the disparagement of our pru- 
 dence, and the disappointment of our designs. The pre- 
 judices occasioned by evil habits, and by pride and pas- 
 sion, contribute greatly to the blinding of human reason, 
 and misleading men into imprudent conduct. Of which 
 in their respective places. To give one's self up to be 
 led by popular prejudice, is as likely a way to be misled as 
 any I know. The multitude judge almost constantly 
 wrong on all subjects that lie in the least out of the com- 
 mon way. They follow one another like a flock of 
 sheep ; and not only go wrong themselves, but make 
 those, who are wiser, ashamed to go right. And yet it is 
 not prudent to be singular in matters of inferior conse- 
 quence. 
 
 That a genius inferior only to a Shakspear or a Milton % 
 should not be able to keep a coat to his back, to save him- 
 self from starving amidst his poetic fire, at the same tinae 
 ihat an honest citizen whose utmost reach of thought onh 
 enables him to fix a reasonable profit upon a piece of linen 
 or silk, according to its first cost and charges, should, 
 from nothing, raise himself to a coach and six : to account 
 for what in theory seems so strange, it is to be considered, 
 of what consequence it is towards a proper behaviour, that 
 a person apply a due attention to all the minute circum- 
 stances and seemingly inconsiderable particulars, in the 
 conduct of life. Let a man have what sublime abilities 
 he will, if he is above applying his understanding to find 
 oj.it, and Ins attention to purs.:. :emc of life, it is , 
 
22 OF PRUDENCl.. 
 
 little to be expected, that he should acquire the fortune of 
 the thriving citizen, as that the plain shopkeeper, who neA er 
 applied his mind to learning, should equal him in science. 
 There is no natural incompatibility between wit, or learn- 
 ing, and prudence. Nor is the man of learning or geni- 
 us, who is void of common prudence, to be considered 
 in any other character, than that of a wrong-headed pedant, 
 or of a man of narrow and defective abilities. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 OF PRUDEXCE IX CO.YVERSATIOX 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Of treating the Characters of absent Persons. 
 
 PRUDENCE may, in general, be divided into two 
 parts : first, that which regards conversation. And, se- 
 condly, that which serves to regulate action. 
 
 As to our words, we are to consider, first, whether what 
 we are going to say had better be spoke, or kept in. And 
 the only time for considering this is, before we speak : for 
 it may be too late afterwards. Whatever may prove to 
 the disadvantage of the speaker, the hearers, or of any ab- 
 sent person, is in prudence carefully to be suppressed. 
 Of the first sort, is, whatever may prejudice the speaker, as, 
 by exposing him to prosecution, by discovering his secrets, 
 or, by getting him ill-will, Of the second, is whatever may 
 tend to debauch the virtue of the hearers, or, by affront- 
 ing, work them up to anger and misbehavior. And of 
 ihe third, whatever tends to derogate from the character of 
 any absent person. To treat of these without regard to 
 order : 
 
 There is no imprudence more common or universal, 
 than that of detraction. I speak of it at present only as an 
 imprudence, reserving the immorality of that practice to 
 another occasion. And what can be more imprudent, 
 
CXF PRtJDENXE. ^3, 
 
 Than upon the mention of an absent person, with whom I 
 am no way concerned, to break out into invectives and 
 severities, which may bring me into disputes and trouble, 
 but can answer no good end ? 
 
 Did men but consider what opinion the judicious form 
 of those they see delight in detraction, they would, for their 
 own sakes, avoid a practice which exposes them to the 
 contempt of all humane and considerate people. He who 
 takes pleasure in speaking to the disadvantage of others, 
 must appear to all wise men, either in the light of an envi- 
 ous person, who can brook nothing eminent in another ; of 
 one whose mean abilities and improvements will furnish 
 no better entertainment for those he converses with! than 
 disadvantageous representations of others; or of one, who 
 partakes of the temper of an evil spirit, and delights in mis- 
 chief for mischief's sake. And no man can think it will 
 tend to the forwarding of his interest among his neigh- 
 bours, to procure himself any of these characters. 
 
 The mischiefs a person may bring upon himself, by 
 evil-speaking, either by exposing himself to legal penal- 
 ties, or to private resentment, and general hatred, are so 
 great, that prudence will direct to speak of every man, as 
 one would do, if he knew the person, whose character is 
 mentioned, was in the next room, overhearing all that 
 passed. For one can never be sure that he shall not be call- 
 ed upon to say the same things before the person's face, 
 which he has taken the liberty of saying behind his back. 
 And who would be put to the trouble of proving, or to the 
 confusion of recanting his words? 
 
 Nor is it enough that what we say to an absent person's 
 disadvantage, be but trifling, or of no great consequence 
 in itself; since what is .said in conversation lies wholly at 
 the mercy of the hearers, to represent it as they please ; 
 and the mere repetition of what has been said without 
 thought or design, makes it appear of consequence. It is 
 evident therefore, that in touching upon what is so ex- 
 tremely delicate, as the characters of others, there is no safe 
 method, but taking the good-natured side (where anv 
 thing can be said in vindication) or, if the character spoke 
 of is wholly indefensible, total silence ; neither of which 
 is liable to misconstruction. 
 

 xJ4 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 As to putting the easy and credulous upon their guard 
 against the artful and designing, the usual pretence for ob- 
 loquy; it may be done, without hazard, and without in- 
 justice, by anonymous letters in a disguised hand, to the 
 persons we think in danger of being imposed upon, or in 
 any other prudent way ; taking care still to treat the charac- 
 ter of others, with the same tenderness as one would wish 
 his own to meet with. 
 
 It will ever be the wisdom of every person, not only to 
 avoid the odious practice of evil- speaking ; but to make 
 a resolution to have no concern with those who are given 
 to it. If I find a person takes a pleasure in misrepresent- 
 ing others to me, I ought to conclude, he will use my 
 character in the same manner, in the next company he goes 
 into. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Of venting singular Opinions. Of Modesty in Disput- 
 ing. Of being satirical upon the Infirmities of others. 
 Of Rallying, and receiving Raillery. 
 
 A WISE man will ever be cautious of venting singular 
 opinions in science, in politics, and above all, in religion, 
 where he does not perfectly know his company. He will 
 consider, that he has ten chances for startling or displeas- 
 ing his hearers, for one of informing or setting them 
 right, in a single conversation ; the bulk of mankind being 
 much too fond of their own opinions and prejudices, to de- 
 sire to come at truth with the hazard of being obliged to 
 give up their beloved maxims. 
 
 A man of prudence is always modest in delivering his 
 sentiments, even where he is absolutely certain that he is in 
 the right, and that his opponent is totally ignorant of the 
 subject in dispute. For he considers, that it is happiness 
 enough to know himself to be in the right, and that he is 
 not obliged to battle the narrowness and perverseness of 
 mankind. 
 
 It is likewise proper to remember, that, in a dispute, 
 the by-standers generally take it for granted, that he who 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 25 
 
 keeps his temper is in the right, and that what puts the 
 other out of humour, is his finding himself in danger of 
 being worsted. 
 
 A prudent person will carefully avoid touching upon 
 the natural infirmity, whether of body or mind, of those 
 he is in company with. The exposing a person's imper- 
 fections to the observation of others, can answer no end, 
 but irritating. We find it hard enough to prevail with 
 mankind to look into their deficiencies themselves ; but 
 to set a whole company a gazing at them, is what they 
 will never bear at our hands. When there is a friendly 
 hint to be given, for correcting some failing, if it be done 
 in private, or by an anonymous letter, it may answer the 
 end ; whereas the rude exposing of a person's weakness* 
 makes him think himself obliged in honour to defend, and 
 consequently to hold fast his error. 
 
 A wise man will despise the conceited pleasure some 
 hot-headed people take in what they call, speaking their 
 minds ; that is, in expressing their dislike of those they fall 
 into company with, in a blunt and rude manner, without 
 the least necessity or prospect of advantage, and with the 
 certainty of affronting and disobliging. For he will con- 
 sider, that though he may chance not to like the make of 
 every face he meets in the street, or the humour of every 
 person he falls in company with, he cannot expect either 
 the one or the other should be altered immediately upon 
 his expressing his dissatisfaction, and may expect to have 
 his rude remarks retaliated upon him with interest. As 
 nothing is more provoking to some tempers than raillery, 
 a prudent person will not always be satirically- witty where 
 he can ; but only where he may without offence* For he 
 will consider that the finest stroke of raillery is but a wit- 
 ticism : and that there is hardly any person so mean, 
 whose good-will is not preferable to the pleasure of a 
 horse-laugh. 
 
 If you should by raillery make another ridiculous, 
 (which is more than you can promise upon) remember, 
 that the judicious part of the company will not think the 
 better of you for your having a knack at drollery, or 
 ribaldry. 
 
 Before you set up for a satirical wit. be sure that you 
 
 D 
 
26 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 arc properly furnished. If you be found to be a bud 
 archer, they will set you up for a butt. 
 
 In the case of one's being exposed to the mirth of a 
 company for something said or done sillily, the most ef- 
 fectual way of turning the edge of their ridicule, is by 
 joining the laugh against one's self, and exposing and 
 aggravating his own folly ; for this will show, that he has 
 the uncommon understanding to see his own fault. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Of Secrecy. Of the Choice of Company, and of inti- 
 mate Friends. Of Visiting where there is no Friend- 
 ship. Of the Company of Ladies. Of Story-telling. 
 Of Boasting, and Lying. 
 
 AS to his own private affairs, a prudent person will 
 consider, that his secrets will always be safer in his own 
 breast, than in that of the best and discreetest friend he 
 has in the world. He will therefore be very cautious of 
 imparting them ; and will never let any one into the know- 
 ledge of them, but for the sake of profiting by his ad- 
 vice, or for somas other useful end. There is not indeed 
 a person among many hundreds, to whom a secret is not 
 an unsupportable burden. And the bulk of people are 
 so extremely curious, that they will fall upon a thousand 
 stratagems to make the person, who they imagine is pos- 
 sessed of a secret, believe that they know most of it al- 
 readv, in order to draw him on to discover the whole : in 
 which they often succeed. 
 
 A prudent person will always avoid diving into the se- 
 crets of others"; for he will consider, that whoever is weak 
 enough to blab his private affairs to him, is like to put the 
 same confidence in others ; the consequence of which 
 may be, that he may come to be blamed for what was 
 discovered by the indiscretion of another, though reli- 
 giously concealed by himself. 
 
 If you cannot keep your own secrets, how do you think 
 other people should ? If you have such an opinion of a 
 person, as to think he will be faithful to you, he has the 
 like of another, and he again pf another, and so your secrcr 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 27 
 
 ^oes round. You ought likewise to consider, that be- 
 sides the chance of unfaithfulness in him to whom you 
 trust a secret, or of a difference arising between you, the 
 mere circumstance of his happening some time or other to 
 forget himself, may be the occasion of his discovering 
 and undoing vou. 
 
 As to the choice of friends or companions, the num- 
 ber of which ought to be small, and the choice delicate, 
 one general rule may be laid down, viz. That a man, 
 who has neither knowledge nor virtue, is by no means a 
 fit companion, let him have what other accomplishments 
 he will. No advantage one can propose from keeping the 
 company of an ignorant or a wicked man, can make up for 
 the nuisance and disgust his folly will give ; much less 
 for the danger of having one's manners corrupted, and his 
 mind debauched. Nothing can give a higher delight, 
 than the conversation of a man of knowledge. There is 
 in a mind, improved by study, conversation and travel, a 
 kind of inexhaustible fund of entertainment, from which 
 one may draw supplies for many years enjoyment, and at 
 every conversation receive some new piece of information 
 and improvement. On the contrary, the company of an 
 ignorant person, must soon grow tiresome and insipid. 
 For one will soon have heard all the tolerable things he 
 can say : and then there is an end of improvement and 
 entertainment both at once. 
 
 As for your buffoons, who are the delight of superficial 
 people, and the fiddles of companies, they are, generally 
 speaking, the most despicable people one can converse 
 with. Their being caressed by the thoughtless part of 
 mankind, on account of their pleasantry, gives their man- 
 ners such a tincture of levity and foolery, that very few of 
 them are good for any thing but to laugh at. And as a 
 very extensive vein of wit is a great rarity, you will gene- 
 rally find the drolls, you meet in company, have a set of 
 conceits which they play off at all times, like dancing 
 dogs, or monkeys ; and that what chiefly diverts, is rather 
 some odd cast of countenance, or uncommon command 
 of features, than any thing of real wit, that will bear re- 
 peating. 
 
 The only proper persons, therefore, to choose for inti- 
 
28 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 mate friends, are men of a serious turn; for such one 
 generally prudent, and fit to consult with ; and of esta- 
 blished characters : for such, having somewhat to lose, 
 will be cautious of their behaviour. To which add ano- 
 ther qualification, indispensably necessary in a friend, 
 with whom one would expect to live agreeably, I mean, a 
 good natural temper. Nothing more forcibly warms the 
 mind to a love of goodness, or raises it more powerfully 
 to all that is truly great and worthy, than the conversation 
 of wise and virtuous men. There is a force in what is 
 said viva voce, which nothing in writing can come up to. 
 A grave remonstrance, mixed with humanity and com- 
 passion, will often awaken thought and reflection in a 
 mind, which has stood proof against the finest moral les- 
 sons in books. And the approbation of a friend, whose 
 judgment and sincerity one esteems, will encourage one to 
 go lengths in every commendable disposition and practice, 
 which he could not have thought himself capable of. As, 
 on the contrary, a little smart raillery, or a smooth flow of 
 words, put together with an appearance of reason, and 
 delivered with an easy and assured air, may very quickly 
 shake the virtue, or unhinge the principles, of a young 
 person, who has neither had time nor opportunity for es- 
 tablishing himself sufficiently, 
 
 I do not mean, that young persons are to take upon 
 trust all that is told them by pious people, (some of whom 
 may be very weak and bigottedj without examining into 
 the grounds and evidences of what they have taught them, 
 and without allowing themselves an opportunity of hear- 
 ing both sides of the question. This is more than reli- 
 gion requires ; nay, it is directly contrary to what it re- 
 quires : for it directs men to use their own reason, and. 
 not to take any thing of importance upon trust. Nor can 
 any thing be more unsafe than to trust that to another, 
 which I ought to make sure of for myself ; which is my 
 own concern infinitely more than any one's else, and where 
 I alone must stand to the damage. My meaning, I say, 
 is not to discourage young people from hearing all sides, 
 and conversing among people of different ways of think- 
 ing ; but to guard them against the crafty, and the vicious, 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 09 
 
 from whose conversation they will be sure to gain nothing, 
 and may lose dreadful ly. 
 
 As the slightest touch will defile a clean garment, 
 which is not to be cleaned again without a great deal of 
 trouble, so the conversation of the wicked and debauched, 
 will, in a very short time, defile the mind of an innocent 
 person, in a manner that will give him great trouble tore- 
 cover his former purity. You may therefore more safely 
 venture into company with a person infected with the 
 plague, than with a vicious man : for the worst conse- 
 quence of the first is death ; but of the last, the hazard of 
 a worse destruction. For vicious people generally have a 
 peculiar ambition to draw in the innocent to their party ; 
 and many of them are furnished with artifices and allure- 
 ments but too effectual for insnaring. 
 
 It is the advice of a great man to his son, to keep the 
 company of his superiors, rather than his inferiors. This 
 direction is to be followed with discretion. As on one 
 hand, for a gentleman to associate constantly with mechan- 
 ics, must prove the most effectual means of sinking him 
 to the level of their manners and conversation ; so on the 
 other, for a young person, who is born to no great fortune, 
 and must resolve to make his way in life by his own in- 
 dustry, to affect the company of the nobilitv and gentry, 
 is the way to have his mind tinctured with the same love 
 of idleness and expence, which even in people of fortune 
 is highly blameable ; but in those, who have no such pros- 
 pects in life, is certain ruin. The supposed advantage 
 arising from the friendship of the great, is of very little 
 consequence. The surest way to ingratiate one's self 
 with the bulk of them, is to serve their pleasures, or their 
 ambitious views : A price infinitely too great for all that 
 their favour can procure. It may therefore, I think, be 
 concluded, that the most proper companions for every 
 man, are those of his own rank in life. 
 
 It has been the misfortune of many in friendship, as in 
 love, to form to themselves such romantic notions, of I 
 know not what sublimities, as will not answer in real life, 
 and to make themselves miserable upon meeting with dis- 
 appointments. Whoever thinks to find an object of love 
 or friendship, in whom, after long acquaintance andfami- 
 
30 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 liarity, nothing faulty or defective shall appear, must go 
 among superior orders of beings in search of what he 
 wants : human nature will furnish no such characters.- 
 He who has found a friend, capable of keeping a secret, 
 of giving sincere and judicious advice, of entertaining and 
 instructing by his conversation, and ready to show his af- 
 fection by actions as well as words ; he who has found 
 such a friend, and drops him for any weakness not incon- 
 sistent with these qualities, shows himself unworthy of 
 such an inestimable treasure. 
 
 As a temper too reserved and suspicious, forbidding 
 the approach of a stranger, is an indication of a crafty dis- 
 position, or at least of a timorous and narrow mind ; so 
 throwing open one's arms to every forward intruder, is a 
 proof of egregious want of prudence and knowledge of 
 the world. Those pert and insinuating people, who be- 
 come, all of a sudden, and without any reason, the most 
 zealous and sanguine friends, are ever to be suspected of 
 some indirect design. The wisdom of behaviour there- 
 fore is, to communicate your knowledge to all, who seem 
 willing to receive it ; your private affairs only to persons 
 of approved secrecy and judgment, and to them no more 
 than is absolutely necessary ; to have many acquaintance, 
 but few intimates ; to open your countenance to all, your 
 v heart to very kw. 
 
 Never think of friendship with a covetous man : He 
 loves his money better than his friend. Nor with a man 
 of pleasure : He has not gravity enough to render his 
 conversation improving. Nor with a wicked man : He 
 will corrupt you. Nor with a silly fellow : His empti- 
 ness will disgust you. Nor with a drunkard : He will 
 betray your secrets. A passionate fellow will affront you, 
 A conceited man will expect you to submit to him in 
 every thing. A mean-spirited creature will disgrace you. 
 A bully will draw you into his quarrels. A spendthrift 
 will borrow your money. A very poor fellow will make 
 your life unhappy. A man of overgrown fortune will 
 draw you into his expensive way of living. 
 
 There is no folly more common among young people 
 than that of puffing or boasting ; at which some are ex- 
 tremely awkward, putting their accounts of their pretend 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 31 
 
 cd feats together in a manner so inconsistent and contra- 
 dictory, that their hearers never fail to detect them for 
 mere fictions. 
 
 Some will be ever ascribing to themselves witty say- 
 ings, which they have heard in company, or perhaps read 
 in books. Some will pretend to have performed things, 
 which if they be challenged to do again, they are obliged 
 to own they cannot. Many, who have never had opportu- 
 nity or capacity for stud}', endeavour to persuade those 
 that converse with them, that they have gone through the 
 whole circle of the sciences, and will pretend to have read 
 every book you can name. Others will be stunning all 
 companies with the great acquaintance they have, and 
 talking of intimacies with eminent persons, whom perhaps 
 in truth they hardly know by sight./ And others are guilty 
 of this vice to a degree still incomparably more wicked ; I 
 mean, those who delight in blasting the characters of la- 
 dies, whose favours they boast, when they have never 
 been so much as in their company. This infamous prac- 
 tice has cost some of these vain and wicked boasters, all 
 they were worth, i 
 
 The most effectual means I know, for avoiding or get- 
 ting rid of this foolish habit of boasting, is, to accustom 
 one's self to speak as little as possible in the first person. 
 The figure of Egotism is one of the most ungraceful that 
 can enter into any man's conversation or writings, though 
 it is to be met with in some of the most eminent both of 
 ancient and modern times. 
 
 But if it gives a man a disadvantageous appearance to 
 be himself the historian of the actions he has really done, 
 what a contemptible light must he appear in, who, in or- 
 der to set himself off, has recourse to falsehood \ '(To what 
 a degree of baseness must that mind be sunk, which can 
 descend so low as to invent a lie ?\ We see a sense of ho- 
 nour upon this point, often remains in the mind, when 
 every thing else that relishes of virtue is gone. The 
 town-rake, who will make no hesitation at murder or adul- 
 tery, will yet take the imputation of a lie whether just or 
 unjust, for an affront not to be expiated, but with blood. 
 For he looks on other crimes as venial, or perhaps as acts 
 of heroism ; but falsehood is universally owned to imply 
 
32 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 in it a peculiar degree of mean-spirited i ids. Nor will 
 any man allow himself in this base practice, who considers 
 (abstracting from the vice) the gross imprudence of ex- 
 posing himself to the universal contempt, which always 
 falls upon the character of a liar, who of course loses the 
 confidence of mankind, even when he speaks truth. J 
 
 If one has given any just cause of disobligatlon, the 
 proper part to act, is, frankly to own the offence, and ask 
 the injured person's pardon ; and it must only be from 
 excessive pride and obstinacy, that one will refuse what is 
 so reasonable. And how much more manly is such be- 
 hr.viour, than to have recourse to the base subterfuge of a 
 lie, or equivocal evasion ! 
 
 Falsehood is indeed, on all accounts, inexcusable, and 
 can never proceed but from some unworthy principle, as 
 cowardice, malice, or a total contempt of virtue and ho- 
 nour. ) And the difficulties it runs one into, are not to be 
 numbered. One lie requires ten others to support it. 
 And the failure of probability in one of them, ruins all. 
 The pains necessary to patch up a plausible story, and the 
 racking of the memory to keep always to the same circum- 
 stances in representing things, so as to avoid contradic- 
 tions, is unsufferable. And after all, it is a thousand to one, 
 but the artifice is detected ; and then the unhappy man is 
 questioned as much, when he is sincere, as when he dis- 
 sembles ; so that he finds himself at a full stop, and ear: 
 neither gain his ends with mankind by truth nor falsehood. 
 
 As it is common and natural for young gentlemen to 
 court the company of the ladies, it is proper to give them 
 some directions upon that subject. 
 
 It is certain, that the elegancy of behaviour, and that 
 universally engaging accomplishment of complaisance, arc 
 no where to be learned but in the conversation of that deli- 
 cate part of our species. And it is likewise certain, that 
 in the company of ladies there is less to be met with that is 
 likely either to shock, or to corrupt an innocent person, 
 than in the conversation of even the tolerable sober part of 
 our sex. But as on the other hand, it must be confess- 
 ed, that their being deprived of the advantages we have 
 for enlarging our knowledge, renders their conversation 
 less impro\ jug, it must be allowed, that to spend the bulk 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 33 
 
 of one's leisure in their company is not to be justified; 
 nor indeed do they expect it, but, on the contrary, heartily 
 despise the effeminate tribe of danglers. A prudent man 
 will therefore only seek the conversation of the ladies oc- 
 casionally ; and, where he does, he will not enter wholly 
 into their manners, but will, by easy and engaging ways, 
 endeavour to draw them into conversation that may be 
 more entertaining to himself, and more improving to them, 
 than the usual chit-chat of the tea-table. Nor is a man 
 in any hazard of giving disgust by this proceeding, unless 
 his manner of introducing such subjects be somewhat 
 affected, or gloomy, or overbearing. On the contrary, 
 the more sensible part of the sex always expect to hear 
 from us something different from, and superior to the su- 
 perficial stuff, of fashions, love affairs, and remarks on 
 neighbours ; and entertain but contemptible notions of a 
 man, who is furnished with no better topics than these, 
 There are many of that sex, who have made so good use 
 of the mean advantages we allow them for improving 
 themselves, that their judgment will be found preferable 
 to that of many men, on prudentials and morals, (science 
 they do not pretend to ;) but these are chiefly such as 
 have had the advantage of experience and conversation. 
 The usual trash of compliment and flattery, with which 
 that contemptible order of mortals, commonly called fops, 
 are wont to entertain the ladies, is equally shameful to 
 those who utter, and those who receive it. And none but 
 the most superficial part of the sex are to be imposed upon 
 by it ; nor can any thing show a man in a more ridiculous 
 light, than to be convicted of attempting to flatter, with- 
 out sufficient address to conceal his design. The w hole 
 of it is mean and disingenuous, and unworthy of the open 
 plainness and sincerity, so graceful in our sex* At the 
 same time as the ladies are but little accustomed to hear 
 the plain truth, much less disagreeable truths, a man of 
 prudence will avoid contradicting or blaming them too 
 bluntly, knowing, that by such behaviour there is nothing 
 to be got but their ill-will. Toying or romping with hand- 
 some women, however distant it may be from any direct 
 design upon them, being yet unsuitable to the delicacy of 
 genteel behaviour, and tending naturallv to promote levt- 
 
 E 
 
34 OV PRUDENCE. 
 
 ty, if not to excite irregular desires in young minds, is 
 what I would wish wholly discouraged. 
 
 As there is no accomplishment more agreeable in a com- 
 panion, when people want to relax, than a nack at telling 
 a story ; there is no part of conversation, in which men 
 expose themselves more egregiously. The entertainment, 
 and instruction, which companies receive from a well told 
 story, of which history and lives furnish the best materials, 
 naturally make people desirous of being thought to possess 
 a talent so agreeable. And those whom nature has not fit- 
 ted out with the proper abilities, cannot miss to execute 
 what they undertake in an awkward manner. The chief 
 of the errors in telling a story, are the following, viz. Te- 
 diousness in dwelling upon insignificant circumstances, 
 which do not interest the company. And, on the other 
 hand, curtailing too much, and leaving out such circum- 
 stances as tend to characterize the persons in the story, or 
 are otherwise essential. Overrunning the proper conclu- 
 sion, or catastrophe of the narration. Overacting the hu- 
 mourous or lively parts ; or drawling on the narration in 
 an unanimated manner. 
 
 The most witty and facetious companion in the worlds 
 may make himself as thoroughly disagreeable as the most 
 insipid mortal that can go into company. Let such a one 
 labour to be witty, and strain for line things. Let him 
 stun the company with noise and forward impertinence ; 
 or let him show a contempt for them, by a sullen silence ; 
 and he shall be as heartily despised as ever he was admired. 
 
 I do not think it would be easy to invent a sillier custom, 
 than that which universally prevails at present, of visiting 
 where there is no real regard or esteem. There is no keep- 
 ing up a correspondence of this kind, without being guil- 
 ty of infinite dissimulation. And they must set politeness 
 at a high rate indeed, who will give up integrity for it. 
 
 But to consider this matter only in a prudential light, 
 which is the business at present, I should be glad to know 
 wherein appears the wisdom of throwing away time (which 
 one may always apply in some manner agreeable to one's 
 self) upon people, whom one heartily despises. Whc re 
 interest obliges people in business to show civility to their 
 customers, or those they have connexions with in life, there 
 Is some pretence of necessity for keeping up such a com- 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 35 
 
 mercc. But why people in high and independent stations, 
 should think it necessary to spend so many hours in visits, 
 to themselves insipid and disagreeable, is to me wholly in- 
 conceivable. When there are so many noble employ- 
 ments, and elegant amusements to fill up the time of peo- 
 ple of figure, it grieves one to see them make themselves 
 useless to their country, and unhappy in themselves, by 
 wasting their hours in the slavery of disagreeable visits, 
 and the endless drudgery of the card-table. To see people 
 of rank descend to such low foolery, as visiting those 
 whom they hate or despise ; denying themselves by their 
 servants, when they are really at home, to avoid the visits 
 of those themselves have invited, making pretended visits 
 to those they know to be abroad, and even sending their 
 empty coaches to perform those mock ceremonies ; to ob- 
 serve all this hypocritical farce, carried on by people of high 
 rank, how does it degrade them in the eyes of their infe- 
 riors ! 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Of Swearing and Obscenity. Of Complaisance. Of 
 Overbearing. Of Passion. Of acknowledging Faults. 
 Of wrangling in conversation. Of the Importance of 
 Circumstantials in Behaviour. 
 
 ONE may lay down the following, as a maxim which 
 will never fail, viz. That so long as his conversation is 
 entertaining, and behaviour affable and modest, he will be 
 sure to be treated with respect, though his discourse be 
 quite sober and chaste. 
 
 Swearing and obscenity are offences not only against all 
 th?t is sacred, but against all that is polite, They are sins 
 without temptation, without alleviation, and without re^ 
 ward. Swearing is an affront to all sober and well-behav- 
 ed people. It confounds and interrupts, instead of grac- 
 ing conversation ; as the continual repetition of any set 
 of unmeaning words, from time to time, necessarily must. 
 
 As for obscenity, every one knows it must shock and 
 startle every modest ear. It gives no real pleasure ; but 
 on the contrary, if it has any effect, must excite and irri- 
 tate the passions, without gratifying them, which is pain 
 
36 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 and torment. If obscenity is fit conversation only for 
 public stews, it cannot be proper among genteel people ; 
 and no person deserves the appellation of a gentleman, who 
 accustoms himself to the behaviour of whoremasters an<l 
 prostitutes. For it is manners, and not dress, that form 
 that character. 
 
 If the definition of true good manners be, That beha- 
 viour, which makes a man easy in himself, and easy to all 
 about him ; it can never be good manners to be trouble- 
 some by an excess of ceremony, by overpressing to eat or 
 drink, or by forcing a favour of any kind, upon those 
 we converse with. Nor can it be said to be consistent 
 with good behaviour, to overdo the complimenting part, 
 so as to border upon insipid flattery ; nor does politeness 
 by any means require that we exceed our inclination, or 
 cross our particular taste, in eating and drinking what may 
 be pressed upon us, to our own disgust ; much less to the 
 prejudice of cur health or temperance. 
 
 No one can be long at a loss, as to behaviour, who ob- 
 serves the two following directions, and is in earnest re- 
 solved to regulate his conduct upon them, viz. first, That 
 the way to be generally agreeable in conversation, is to 
 show, that one has less at heart the humouring his own in- 
 clinations, than those of the company, and that he is not 
 so full of himself as to overlook or despise others ; and, 
 secondly, That the grace of behaviour is to be learned only 
 from the imitation of the judicious and polite. 
 
 But care must be taken, that your imitation be not so 
 slavish as to strip you of your natural character and beha- 
 viour, and disguise you in those of another, which, being 
 assumed, and artificial, will not become you. For nature 
 in russet is more agreeable than affectation in embroidery. 
 
 There is nothing that costs less, and gains more friends, 
 than an affable and courteous behaviour. One may always 
 observe, that those, who have been accustomed to the best 
 company, behave with the greatest freedom and good 
 nature. People of figure and real worth, having reason 
 to expect that others will treat them with suitable respect, 
 do not find it necessary to assume any airs of superiority. 
 Whereas, the vain and conceited, who fancy no submis- 
 sion whatever, is equal to their dignity, are ever endeavour- 
 ing, by a haughty carriage, to keep up that respect in 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 37 
 
 others, which their want of real merit cannot. But how ill 
 they succeed, is easy to observe, from the universal con- 
 tempt and disgust such a behaviour meets with among all 
 judicious people. 
 
 The truth of the matter is, that the differences between 
 one person and another are, in respect to every circum- 
 stance, but that of virtue, so very inconsiderable, a-, to ren- 
 der any insolent superiority on the one hand, or mean sub- 
 mission on the other, extremely ridiculous ; since, accord- 
 ing to the elegant expression of Scripture, u Man is but 
 a worm, and the son of man a worm." 
 
 Nothing shows a greater abjectness of spirit, than an 
 overbearing temper, appearing in a person's behaviour to 
 inferiors. To insult or abuse those who dare not answer 
 again, is as sure a mark of cowardice, as it would be to at- 
 tack with a drawn sword a woman or a child. And wher- 
 ever you see a person given to insult his inferiors, you may 
 assure yourself he will creep to his superiors ; for che same 
 baseness of mind will lead him to act the part of a buily to 
 those who cannot resist, and of a coward to those who 
 can. But though servants and other dependants may not 
 have it in their power to retort, in the same style, the inju- 
 rious usage they received from their superiors, they are 
 sure to be even with them by the contempt they themselves 
 have for them, and the character they spread abroad of 
 them through the world. Upon the whole, the proper be- 
 haviour to inferiors is, to treat them with generosity and 
 humanity ; but by no means with familiarity on one hand, 
 or insolence on the other. 
 
 And if a fiery temper and passionate behaviour are 
 improper to inferiors, they are more so among equals, for 
 this obvious reason, That the only effect of a choieric be- 
 haviour on your equals, is exposing you to the ridicule of 
 these who have no dependence upon you, and have neither 
 hopes nor fears from you. 
 
 There is indeed no greater happiness than an even natural 
 temper, neither liable to be extremely eager and sanguine, 
 nor stoically indifferent and insensible ; neither apt to be 
 worked up to a tempest with every trifle, nor yet buried 
 in a continual lethargic stupidity ; neither delighting in be- 
 ing always engaged in scenes of mirth and frolic, nor to be 
 ""Tapped in the impenetrable gloom of a fixed melancholy 
 
SS OF PRUDENCL. 
 
 And after all, what is there in life that may be justly 
 reckoned of sufficient importance to move a person to a 
 violent passion ? What good grounds can there be lor 
 great expectations, for gloomy apprehensions, for immo- 
 derate triumph, or for deep dejection, in such a state as the 
 present, in which we are sure of meeting with innumerable 
 disappointments, even in the greatest success of our affairs, 
 and in which we know that our afflictions and our plea- 
 sures must both be soon over? True wisdom will direct 
 us to study moderation with respect to all worldly things ; 
 to indulge mirth but seldom, excessive grief never ; but to 
 keep up constantly an even cheerfulness of temper. 
 
 If it should happen through inadvertency, passion, or 
 human frailty, that you expose yourself to be taken to 
 task by any one, do not so much labour to justify the ac- 
 tion, for that is doubling the fault, as your intention, which 
 might be harmless. Besides, the action appears manifest 
 to every one; so that people will judge for themselves, 
 and not take your notion of it. But your intention, being 
 known only to yourself, they will more readily allow you 
 to be the most proper person to explain it. Above all, 
 it is base and unjust to palliate your own fault, by laying 
 the blame upon others. 
 
 Suppose you should fairly own you was in the wrong. 
 It will be only confessing yourself a human creature. And 
 is that so mortifying ! If, on the contrary, you should stand 
 it out, people will think you twice in the wrong — in com- 
 mitting a folly, and in persisting in it. Whereas, if you 
 frankly own your mistake, they will allow your candour as 
 an apology for half the fault. 
 
 It is generally pride and passion that engage people in 
 quarrels and law-suits. It is the very character of a good 
 man, that he will, upon occasion, recede from the utmost 
 rigor of what he might, in justice, demand. If this cha- 
 racter were a common one, there would be few law-suits; 
 which, whoever loves, I heartily wish him, for his instruc- 
 tion, the full enjoyment of all its peculiar delights, as at- 
 tendance, expence, waste of time, fear, and wrangling, 
 w r ith the hatred of all who know his character, and the di- 
 minution of his fortune, by every suit he engages in. 
 
 If you have reason to believe that your enemy has quit- 
 ted his hatred to you. and his ill designs against you, do 
 
OF PRUDENCE, 39 
 
 not insist upon his making you a formal speech, acknow- 
 ledging his fault and asking pardon ; but forgive him frank- 
 ly, without putting him to the pain of doing what may be 
 more disagreeable to him than you can imagine : For 
 men's natures are very different. If you already know that 
 he is favourably disposed to you, you cannot know it bet- 
 ter by his telling you so in a formal manner. At the same 
 time it is not necessary that you trust yourself any more in 
 the hands of one who has endeavoured to betray and ruin 
 you. Christian forbearance and forgiveness are no way 
 inconsistent with prudence. 
 
 There is no circumstance in life too trivial to be wholly 
 unworthy of the regard of a person who would be general- 
 ly agreeable, on which a man's usefulness in society de- 
 pends much more than many people are aware of. It is 
 great pity that many persons, eminently valuable for learn- 
 ing and piety, do not study the decorum of dress and be- 
 haviour more than they do. There is incomparably great- 
 er good to be gained by humouring mankind in a few of 
 their trifling customs, and thereby wining their good will, 
 than by startling or disgusting them by a singularity of 
 behaviour in matters of no consequence. In dress, I would 
 advise to keep the middle between foppery and shabbiness ; 
 neither being the first nor the last in a fashion. Every 
 thing, which shows, what is commonly called, a taste in 
 dress, is a proof of a vain and silly turn of mind, and never 
 fails to prejudice the judicious against the wearer. A 
 discreet and well-behaved person will never fail to meet 
 with due respect from all the discerning part of society, 
 (and the good opinion of the rest is not worth desiring) 
 though his dress be ever so plain, so it be decent. 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 Miscellaneous Thoughts 011 Prudence in Conversation, 
 
 AS order or method are of very little consequence in 
 treating of such subjects, I will add here a set of miscella- 
 neous thoughts upon the art of conversation, couched in 
 a few words, from which, with what has been already ob- 
 served, the young reader may furnish himself with a com- 
 petent knowledge of what is to be studied, and what to be 
 
40 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 avoided in conversation. If the reader should find thf. 
 same thought twice, it is hoped his candour will overlook 
 a fault, not easy to be avoided in putting together such a 
 variety of unconnected matter. There are few of the fol- 
 lowing sentences that will not furnish a good deal of 
 thought, or that are to be understood to their full extent 
 without some consideration. 
 
 He who knows the world will not be too bashful. He 
 who knows himself will not be impudent. 
 
 Do not endeavour to shine in all companies. Leave 
 room for your hearers to imagine something within you be- 
 yond all you have said. And remember, the more you 
 are praised, the more you will be envied. 
 
 If you would add a lustre to all your accomplishments, 
 Study a modest behaviour. To excel in any thing valu- 
 able is great; but to be above conceit, on account of one's 
 accomplishments, is greater. Consider, if you have rich 
 natural gifts, you owe them to the Divine bounty. If you 
 have improved your understanding, and studied virtue, 
 you have only done your duty. And thus there seems 
 little ground left for vanity. 
 
 You need not tell all the truth, unless to those who have 
 a right to know it all. But let all you tell be truth. 
 
 Insult not another for his want of a talent you possess : 
 He may have others which you want. 
 
 Praise your friends, and let your friends praise you. 
 
 If you treat your inferiors with familiarity, expect the 
 same from them. 
 
 If you give a jest, take one. 
 
 Let all your jokes be truly jokes. Jesting sometimes 
 ends in sad earnest. 
 
 If a favour is asked of you, grant it if you can. If not, 
 refuse it in such a manner as that one denial may be suffi- 
 cient. 
 
 Wit without humanity degenerates into bitterness. 
 Learning without prudence into pedantry. 
 
 In the midst of mirth, reflect that many of your fellow 
 creatures round the world are expiring ; and that your turn 
 will come shortly. So will you keep your life uniform 
 and free from excess. 
 
 Love your fellow creature, though vicious. Hate vice 
 in the friend vou love the most. 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 41 
 
 Whether is the laugher or the morose, the most dis- 
 agreeable companion ? 
 
 Reproof is a medicine like mercury or opium ; if it be 
 improperly administered, it will do harm instead of good. 
 
 Nothing is more unmannerly than to reflect on any man's 
 profession, sect, or natural infirmity. He who stirs up 
 against himself another's self-love, provokes the strongest 
 passion in human nature. 
 
 Be careful of your word, even in keeping the most tri- 
 fling appointment. But do not blame another for a failure 
 of that kind, till you have heard his excuse. 
 
 Never offer advice, but where there is some probability 
 of its being followed. 
 
 If a great person has omitted rewarding your services, 
 do not talk of it. Perhaps he may not yet have had an op- 
 portunity. For they have always on hand expectants in- 
 numerable ; and the clamorous are too generally gratified 
 before the deserving. Besides, it is the way to draw his 
 displeasure upon you, which can do you no good, but 
 make bad worse. If the services you did, were voluntary, 
 you ought not to expect any return, because you made a 
 present of them unasked. And a free gift is not to be 
 turned into a loan, to draw the person you have served in- 
 to debt. If you have served a great person merely with 
 a view to self-interest, perhaps he is aware of that, and re- 
 wards you accordingly. Nor can you justly complain : 
 He owes you nothing ; it was not him you meant to serve. 
 
 Fools pretend to foretel what will be the issue of things, 
 and are laughed at for their awkward conjectures. Wise 
 men, being aware of the uncertainty of human affairs, 
 and having observed how small a matter often pro- 
 duces a great change, are modest in their conjectures. 
 
 He who talks too fast, outruns his hearers thoughts. 
 He who speaks too slow, gives his hearer pain by hin- 
 dering his thoughts, as a rider who frets his horse by rein r 
 ing him too much. 
 
 Never think to entertain people with what lies out of 
 their way, be it ever so curious in its kind. Who would 
 think of regaling a circle of ladies with the beauties of 
 Homer's Greek, or a company of country squires with 
 Sir Isaac Newton's discoveries ? 
 
 Never fish for praise : It is not worth the bait, 
 
 F 
 
42 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 Do well ; but do not boast of it. For that will lessen 
 the commendation you might otherwise have deserved. 
 
 Pie who is guilty of flattery, declares himself to be sunk 
 from every noble and manly sentiment, and shows, that he 
 thinks the person he presumes upon, void of modesty and 
 discernment. Though flattery is so common in courts, 
 it is the very insolence of rudeness. 
 
 To offer advice to an angry man, is like blowing against 
 a tempest. 
 
 Too much preciseness and solemnity in pronouncing 
 what one says in common conversation, as if one was 
 preaching, is generally taken for an indication of self- 
 conceit. 
 
 Make your company a rarity, and people will value it. 
 Men despise what they can easily have. 
 
 Value truth, however you come by it. Who would 
 not pick up a jewel that lay on a dunghill ? 
 
 The beauty of behaviour consists in the manner, more 
 than the matter of youi discourse. 
 
 If your superior treats you with familiarity, it will not 
 therefore become you to treat him in the same manner. 
 Men of many words are generally men of many puffs. 
 A good way to avoid impertinent and pumping inqui- 
 ries, is by answering with another question. An evasion 
 may also serve the purpose. But a lie is inexcusable on 
 any occasion, especially, when used to conceal the truth, 
 from one who has no authority to demand it. 
 
 To reprove with success, the following circumstances 
 are necessary, viz. mildness, secrecy, intimacy, and the 
 esteem of the person you would reprove. 
 
 If you be nettled with severe raillery, take care never 
 to show that you are stung, unless you choose to provoke 
 more. 
 
 The way to avoid being made a butt, is not to set up 
 for an archer. 
 
 To set up for a general critic, is bullying mankind. 
 Reflect upon the different appearances things make to 
 you from what they did some years ago ; and do not ima- 
 gine that your opinion will never alter, because you are 
 positive at present. Let the remembrance of your past 
 hanges of sentiment make you more flexible^ 
 If ever you was in a passion, did you not rind reason af- 
 
OF PRUDENCE. I 
 
 terwards to be sorry for it? And will you again allow 
 yourself to be guilty of a weakness, which will certainly 
 "be in the same manner followed by repentance, besides 
 being attended with pain ? 
 
 Never argue with any but men of sense and temper. 
 
 It is ill manners to trouble people with talking too 
 much either of yourself, or your affairs. If you are full 
 of yourself, consider, that you, and your affairs, are not so 
 interesting to other people as to you. 
 
 Keep silence, sometimes, upon subjects which you are 
 known to be a judge of. So your silence,' where you are 
 ignorant, will not discover you. 
 
 Some ladies will forgive silliness; but none ill manners. 
 And there are but few capable of judging of your learning 
 or genius ; but all of your behaviour. 
 
 Do not judge by a view of one person or thing. 
 
 Think like the wise, but talk like ordinary people. 
 Never go out of the common road but for somewhat. 
 
 Do not dispute against facts well established, merely 
 because there is somewhat unaccountable in them. That 
 the world should be created of nothing, is to us incon- 
 ceivable ; but not therefore to be doubted. 
 
 There is no occasion to trample upon the meanest rep- 
 tile, nor to sneak to the greatest prince. Insolence and 
 baseness are equally unmanly. 
 
 As you are going to a party of mirth, think of the ha- 
 zard you run of misbehaving. While you are engaged, 
 do not wholly forget yourself. And after all is over, re- 
 flect how you have behaved. If well, be thankful : It is 
 more than you could have promised. If otherwise, be 
 more careful for the future. 
 
 Do not sit dumb in company. It will be ascribed either 
 to pride, cunning, or stupidity. Give your opinion mo- 
 destly, but freely ; hear that of others with candor ; and 
 ever endeavour to find out, and to communicate truth. 
 
 If you have seen a man misbehave once, do not from 
 thence conclude him a fool. If you find he has been in a 
 mistake in one particular, do not at once conclude him 
 void of understanding. By that way of judging, you can 
 entertain a favourable opinion of no man upon earth, nor 
 even of yourself. 
 
 In mixed company, be readier to hear than to speak, 
 
44 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 and put people upon talking of what is in their own way. 
 For then you will both oblige them, and be most likely to 
 improve by their conversation. 
 
 Humanity will direct to be particularly cautious of treat- 
 ing, with the least appearance of neglect, those who have 
 lately met with misfortunes, and are sunk in life. Such 
 persons are apt to think themselves slighted, when no such 
 thing is intended. Their minds, being already sore, feel 
 the least rub very severely. And who would be so cruel 
 as to add affliction to the afflicted? 
 
 Too much company is worse than none. 
 
 To smother the generosity of those, who have obliged 
 you, is imprudent, as well as ungrateful. The mention of 
 kindnesses received may excite those who hear it to de- 
 serve your good word, by imitating the example which 
 they see does others so much honour. 
 
 Learning is like bank-notes. Prudence and good be- 
 ha iour are like silver, useful upon all occasions. 
 
 If you have been once in company with an idle person, 
 it is enough. You need never go again. You have heard 
 ail he knows. And he has had no opportunity of learning 
 any thing new. For idle people make no improvements. 
 
 Deep learning will make you acceptable to the learned ; 
 but it is only an obliging and easy behaviour, and enter- 
 taining conversation, that will make you agreeable to all 
 companies. 
 
 Men repent speaking ten times, for once that they re- 
 pent keeping silence. 
 
 It is an advantage to have concealed one's opinion. For 
 by that means you may change your judgment of things 
 (which every wise man finds reason to do) and not be ac- 
 cused of fickleness. 
 
 There is hardly any bodily blemish, which a winning 
 behaviour will not conceal, or make tolerable ; and there 
 is no external grace, which ill-nature or affectation will not 
 deform. 
 
 If you mean to make your side of the argument appear 
 plausible, do not prejudice the people against what you 
 think truth, by your passionate manner of defending it. 
 
 There is an affected humility more unsufferable than 
 downright pride, as hypocrisy is more abominable than 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 45 
 
 libertinism. Take care that your virtues be genuine and 
 unsophisticated. 
 
 If you put on a proud carriage, people will want to know 
 what there is in you to be proud of. It is ten to one whether 
 they value your accomplishments at the same rate as you. 
 And the higher you aspire, they will be the more desirous 
 to mortify you. 
 
 Nothing is more nauseous than apparent self-sufficiency. 
 For it shows the company two things, which are extremely 
 disagreeable; that you have a high opinion of yourself ; 
 and, ihat you have comparatively a mean opinion of them. 
 
 It is the concurrence of passions, that produces a storm. 
 Let an angry man alone, and he will cool of himself. 
 
 It is but seldom, that very remarkable occurrences fall 
 out in life. The evenness of your temper will be in most 
 danger of being troubled by trifles Which take you by 
 surprise. 
 
 It is as obliging in company, especially of superiors, to 
 listen attentively, as to talk entertainingly. 
 
 Do not think of knocking out another person's brains, 
 because he differs in opinion from you. It will be as 
 rational to knock yourself on the head, because you differ 
 from yourself ten years ago. 
 
 If you want to gain any man's good opinion, take par- 
 ticular care how you behave, the first time you are in com- 
 pany with him. The light you appear in at first, to one 
 who is neither inclinable to think well nor ill of you, will 
 strongly prejudice him either for or against you 
 
 Good humour is the only shield to keep off the darts of 
 the satirical railer. If you have a quiver well stored, and 
 are sure of hitting him between the joints of the harness, 
 do not spare him. But you had better not bend your bow 
 than miss your aim. 
 
 The modest man is seldom the object of envy. 
 
 In the company of ladies, do not labour to establish 
 learned points by long-winded arguments. They do not 
 care to take much pains about finding out truth. 
 
 Talkativeness, in some men, proceeds from what is ex- 
 tremely amiable, I mean, an open, communicative temper. 
 Nor is it an universal rule, that whoever talks much, must 
 say a great deal not worth hearing. I have known men 
 who talked freely, because they had a great deal to say, 
 
4G OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 and delighted in communicating for their own advantage, 
 and that of the company ; and I have known others, who 
 commonly sat dumb, because they could find nothing to 
 say. In England, we blame every one who talks freely, 
 let his conversation be ever so entertaining and improving. 
 In France, they look upon every man as a gloomy mortal, 
 whose tongue does not make an uninterrupted noise. 
 Both these judgments are unjust. 
 
 If you talk sentences, do not at the same time give your- 
 self a magisterial air in doing it. An easy conversation is 
 the only agreeable one, especially in mixed company. 
 
 Be sure of the fact, before you lose time in searching 
 for a cause. 
 
 If you have a friend that will reprove your faults and 
 foibles, consider you enjoy a blessing, which the king upon 
 the throne cannot have. 
 
 Ii disputes upon moral or scientific points, ever let 
 your aim be to come at truth, not to conquer your op- 
 ponent. So you never shall be at a loss, in losing the ar- 
 gument, and gaining a new discovery. 
 
 What may be very entertaining in company with igno- 
 rant people, may be tiresome to those who know more of 
 the matter. 
 
 There is no method more likely to cure passion and 
 rashness, than the frequent and attentive consideration of 
 one's own weaknesses. This will work into the mind an 
 habitual sense of the need one has of being pardoned, and 
 will bring down the swelling pride and obstinacy of heart, 
 which are the cause of hasty passion. 
 
 If you happen into company where the talk runs into 
 party, obscenity, scandal, folly, or vice of any kind, you 
 had better pass for morose or unsocial, among people 
 whose good opinion is not worth having, than shock your 
 own conscience, by joining in conversation which you 
 must disapprove of. 
 
 If you would have a right to account of things from 
 illiterate people, let them tell their story in their own way. 
 If you put them upon talking according to logical rules, 
 vou will confound them. 
 
 I was much pleased with the saying of a gentleman, who 
 was engaged in a friendly argument with another upon a 
 point in morals, " You and I (says he to his antagonist) 
 
0F PRUDENCE. 47 
 
 seem as far as I hitherto understand, to differ consider- 
 ably in our opinions. Let us, if you please, try wherein 
 we can agree." The scheme in most disputes is to try 
 who shall conquer, or confound the other. It is therefore 
 no wonder that so little light is struck out in conversation, 
 where a candid inquiry after truth is often the least thino- 
 thought of. 
 
 If a man complains to you of his wife, a woman of her 
 husband, a parent of a child, or a child of a parent, be very 
 cautious how you meddle between such near relations, to 
 blame the behaviour of one to the other. You will only 
 have the hatred of both parties, and do no good with either. 
 But this does not hinder your giving both parties, or 
 either, your best advice in a prudent manner. 
 
 Be prudently secret. But do not affect to make a secret 
 of what all the world may know ; nor give yourself airs of 
 being as close as a conspirator. You will better disap- 
 point idle curiosity by seeming to have nothing to conceal. 
 
 Never blame a friend, without joining some commenda- 
 tion to make reproof go down. 
 
 It is by giving a loose to folly, in conversation and ac- 
 tion, that people expose themselves to contempt and ridi- 
 cule. The modest man may deprive himself of some part 
 of the applause of some sort of people in conversation, by 
 not shining altogether so much as he might have done. 
 Or he may deprive himself of some lesser advantages in 
 life by his reluctancy in putting himself forward. But it 
 is only the rash and impetuous talker, or actor, that effect- 
 ually exposes himself in company, or ruins himself in life. 
 It is therefore easy to determine which is the safest side to 
 err on. 
 
 It is a base temper in mankind, that thev will not take 
 the smallest slight atthe hand of those who have done them 
 the greatest kindness. 
 
 If you fall into the greatest companv, in a natural and 
 unforced way, look upon yourself as one of them ; and do 
 not sneak, nor suffer any one to treat vou unworthv, with- 
 out just showing, that you know behaviour. But if you 
 see them disposed to be rude, over- bearing, or purse- 
 proud, it will be more decent and less troublesome to re- 
 tire, than to wrangle with them. 
 
 If at any time you chance, in conversation, to get on a 
 
43 OF PRUDENXE. 
 
 side of an argument which you find not to be tenable, or 
 any other way over shoot yourself, turn off the subject in 
 as easy and good humoured a way as you can. It you pro- 
 ceed "still, and endeavour, right or wrong, to make your 
 first point good, you will only entangle yourself the more r 
 and in the end expose yourself. 
 
 Never over-praise any absent person : especially ladies, 
 in company of ladies. It is the way to bring envy and 
 hatred upon those whom you wish well to. 
 
 To try, whether your conversation is likely to be accept- 
 able to people of sense, imagine what you say writ down, 
 or printed, and consider how it would read ; whether it 
 would appear natural, improving, and entertaining; or 
 affected, unmeaning, or mischievous. 
 
 It is better in conversation, with positive men to turn 
 off the subject in dispute with some merry conceit, than 
 keep up the contention to the disturbance of the company. 
 
 Do not give your advice upon any extraordinary emer- 
 o-ency, nor your opinion upon any difficult point, especi- 
 ally in company of eminent persons, without first taking 
 time to deliberate. If you say nothing, it may not be 
 known whether your silence was owing to ignorance of 
 the subject, or to modesty. If you give a rash and crude 
 opinion, you are effectually and irrecoverably exposed. ^ 
 
 If you fill your fancy, while you are in company, with 
 suspicions of their thinking meanly of you : if you puff 
 yourself up with imaginations of appearing to them a very 
 witty or profound person : if you discompose yourself with 
 fears of misbehaving before them ; or any way put your- 
 self out of yourself ; you will not appear in your natural 
 colour ; but in that of an affected, personated character, 
 which is always disagreeable. 
 
 It may be useful to study, at leisure, a variety of pro- 
 per phrases for such occasions as are most frequent in life, 
 as civilities to superiors, expressions of kindness to in- 
 feriors ; congratulations, condolence, expressions of grati- 
 tude, acknowledgement of faults, asking or denying ot 
 favours, &c. I prescribe no particular phrases, because, 
 the language of conversation continually fluctuating, they 
 must soon become obsolete. The best method of acquir- 
 ing the accomplishment of a graceful and easy manner oi 
 expression for the common occasions of life, is attention, 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 49 
 
 ■^nd imitation of well-bred people. Nothing makes a 
 man appear more contemptible than barrenness, pedantry, 
 x>r impropriety of expression. 
 
 If you would be employed in serious business, do not 
 -set up for a buffoon. 
 
 Flattery is a compound of falsehood, selfishness, ser- 
 vility, and ill manners. Any one of these qualities is 
 enough to make a character thoroughly odious. Who 
 then would be the person, or have any concern with him, 
 whose mind is deformed by four such vices ? 
 
 If you must speak upon a difficult point, be the last 
 speaker if you can. 
 
 You will not be agreeable to company, if you strive to 
 bring in, or keep up a subject unsuitable to their capaci- 
 ties or humour. 
 
 You will never convince a man of ordinary sense, by 
 overbearing his understanding. If you dispute with him 
 in such a manner, as to show a due deference for his judg- 
 ment, your complaisance may win him, though your saucy 
 arguments could not. 
 
 Avoid disputes altogether, if possible ; especially in 
 mixed companies, and with ladies. You will hardly con- 
 vince any one, and may disoblige or startle them, and get 
 yourself the character of a conceited pragmatical person. 
 \Y hereas, that of an agreeable companion, which you may 
 have without giving yourself any great air of learning or 
 tlepth, may be more advantageous to you in life, and will 
 make you welcome in all companies. 
 
 The frequent use of the name of God, or the devil : 
 allusions to passages of Scripture ; mocking at any thing 
 serious and devout ; oaths, vulgar bye- words, cant phra- 
 ses, affected hard words, when familiar terms will do as 
 well ; scraps of Latin, Greek or French ; quotations 
 from plays, spoke in a theatrical manner ; all these much 
 used in conversation render a person very contemptible to 
 grave and wise men. 
 
 If you send people away from your company well-pleas- 
 ed with themselves, you need not fear but they will be 
 well enough pleased with you, whether they have received 
 any instruction from you or not. Most people had rathe* 
 ibe pleased than instructed. 
 
 /' 
 
50 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 Do not tell unlikely or silly stories, if you know them 
 to be true. 
 
 There is no greater rudeness to company, than enter- 
 taining them with scolding your servants. 
 
 Avoid little oddities in behaviour. But do not despise 
 a man.of worth, for his being somewhat awkward, or less 
 agreeable, in his manner. 
 
 I hardiy know any company more disagreeable than 
 that of those, who are ever straining to hook in some 
 quirk of wit or drollery, whatever be the subject of con- 
 versation. Reflect in yourself, after you have passed 
 some hours in such company ; and observe whether it 
 leaves any thing in your mind but emptiness, levity, or 
 disgust. Again observe, after you have passed some time 
 in the conversation of men of wisdom and learning, if you 
 do not find your mind filled with judicious reflections, 
 and worthy resolutions. If you do not, it is because you 
 have not a mind capable of them. 
 
 If you can express yourself to be perfectly understood 
 in ten words, never use a dozen. Go not about to prove, 
 by a long series of reasoning, what all the world is ready 
 to own. 
 
 If any one takes the trouble of finding fault with you, 
 you ought in reason to suppose he has some regard for 
 you, else he would not run the hazard of disobliging you, 
 and drawing upon himself your hatred. 
 
 Do not ruffle or provoke any man : Why should any 
 one be the worse for coming into company with you ? Be 
 not yourself provoked : Why should you give any man 
 the advantage over you ? 
 
 To say that one has opinions very different from those 
 commonly received, is saying that he either loves singu- 
 larity, or that he thinks for himself. Which of the two is 
 the case, can only be found by examining the grounds of 
 his opinions. 
 
 Do not appear to the public too sure, or too eager upon 
 any project. If it should miscarry, which it is a chance 
 but it does, you will be laughed at. The surest way to 
 prevent which, is not to tell your designs or prospects 
 in life. 
 
 If you give yourself a loose in mixed company, you 
 may almost depend on being pulled to pieces as soon as 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 51 
 
 your back is turned, however they may seem entertained 
 with your conversation. 
 
 For common conversation, men of ordinary abilities 
 will upon occasions do well enough. And you may al- 
 ways pick something out of any man's discourse, by 
 which you may profit. For an intimate friend to improve 
 by, you must search half a county over, and be glad if you 
 can find him at last. 
 
 Do not give your time to every superficial acquaint- 
 ance ; it is bestowing what is to you of inestimable worth, 
 upon one, who is not likely to be better for it. 
 
 If a person has behaved to you in an unaccountable 
 manner, do not at once conclude him a bad man, unless 
 you find his character given up by all who know him ; 
 nor then, unless the facts alleged against him be undoubt- 
 edly proved, and wholly inexcusable. But this is not ad- 
 vising you to trust a person, whose character you have any 
 reason to suspect. Nothing can be more absurd than the 
 common way of fixing people's characters. Such a one 
 has disobliged me ; therefore he is a villain. Such 
 another has done me a kindness ; therefore he is a saint. 
 
 Never contend about small matters with superiors, nor 
 with inferiors. If you get the better of the first; you pro- 
 voke their formidable resentment : if you engage with the 
 latter you debase yourself. 
 
 If you act a part truly great, you may expect that men 
 of mean spirits, who can not reach you, will endeavour, 
 by detraction, to pull you down to their level. But pos- 
 terity will do you justice ; for the envy raised against 
 you, will die with you. 
 
 Superficial people are more agreeable the first time you 
 are in their company, than ever afterwards. Men of judg- 
 ment improve every succeeding conversation : beware 
 therefore of judging by one interview. 
 
 You will not anger a man so much by showing him that 
 you hate him, as by expressing a contempt of him. 
 
 Most young women had rather have any of their good 
 qualities slighted, than their beauty. Yet that is the most 
 inconsiderable accomplishment of a woman of real merit. 
 
 You will be always reckoned by the world nearly of the 
 same character with those whose company you keep. 
 
 You will please so much the less, if you go into com- 
 
52 OF PRUDENCE 
 
 pany determined to shine. Let your conversation appear 
 to rise out of thoughts suggested by the occasion, not 
 ? trained, or premeditated : nature always pleases: affecta 
 tion is always odious. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 OF PRUDENCE I.V ACTION 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Of following Advice. Of Submission to Superiors". 
 
 PRUDENCE in action is the conducting of one's 
 affairs in such a manner as is necessary and proper, all cir 
 cumstances duly considered and balanced ; and avoiding 
 whatever may be likely to produce inconvenience with res- 
 pect to secular concerns. Imprudence is seen as much 
 in neglecting what ought to be done, and at the proper 
 time for doing it, as in taking rash and inconsiderate steps, 
 
 There is not a more promising sign in a young person, 
 than a readiness to hear the advice of those whose age and 
 experience qualify them for judging maturely. The 
 knowledge of the world, and of the arts of life, can only be 
 attained by experience and action. Therefore if a young 
 person, who, through obstinacy, rejects the advice of ex- 
 perienced people, succeeds in his designs, it is owing to 
 some strange interposition of Providence, or concurrence 
 of circumstances. For such a one T entering into life, 
 wholly unacquainted with the difficulties and dangers of it, 
 and resolutely beat against advice, runs the same hazard 
 as a person, wholly ignorant of sailing, who should, against 
 the judgment of experienced pilots, undertake to steer a 
 ship through the most dangerous sea, in a tempest. 
 
 It seems at first view, a very odd turn in human nature, 
 that young people are generally much more conceited of 
 their own judgments, than those who are come to matu- 
 rity. One would wonder how they should miss reflecting, 
 that persons more advanced in age than themselves, have 
 of course the advantage of so many years experience be- 
 yond themselves ; and that, if all other things were equal. 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 53 
 
 the single circumstance of having seen more of the world, 
 must necessarily enable them to judge better of it. 
 
 Life is a journey ; and they only who have travelled a 
 considerable way in it, are fit to direct those who are set- 
 ting out. 
 
 Let me therefore advise my young readers, to pay the 
 utmost deference to the advices or commands of those, 
 who are their superiors in age and experience. Old peo- 
 ple, it must be owned, will sometimes obtrude their ad- 
 vice in a manner not very engaging. Their infirmities, 
 the usual attendants of age, together with their concern 
 for the wrong steps they see their young relations and ac- 
 quaintance taking, will sometimes occasion their treating 
 them with what may be taken for ill-nature ; whereas, it 
 may be in reality their love for the persons of their young 
 friends, and their zeal for their interests which warm them, 
 Do not therefore attend to the manner of the advice ; but 
 only to the matter of it. It would be of very little conse- 
 quence to you, if you was going towards a precipice in a 
 dark night, whether you were warned of your danger by a 
 rude clown, or by a polite gentleman, so you escaped it. 
 In the same manner, if a remonstrance is made upon any 
 part of one's conduct, in the roughest manner ; the only 
 thing to be considered, is, whether we can profit by it, 
 and the rudeness of the person, who made it, should go 
 for nothing ; as one would swallow a medicine, not for its 
 gratefulness to the taste, but for its effect on the consti- 
 tution. 
 
 As to the submission a young man owes to his supe- 
 riors, as parents, masters, &c. if it were not a duty, pru- 
 dence alone would lead him to yield it readily and cheer 
 fully in all cases that are lawful. For it is to be consider- 
 ed, that the consequences of refusing are incomparably 
 worse than those of submission ; the world being always 
 ready to lay the blame upon the young person, in case of 
 a rupture between them, and not upon the old ; and no- 
 thing being more to the disadvantage of a young person's 
 character, than the reproach of an obstinate or unsettled 
 turn of mind. It would indeed be impossible to carry on 
 the affairs of the world, if children, apprentices, sen-ants, 
 and other dependants, were to spend time in disputing the 
 commands of their superiors ; it being in many cases 
 
54 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 hard to give an account of the fitness or unfitness of things 
 prescribed, and in many altogether improper. Nor is it 
 less commendable nor less graceful to obey cheerfulh', 
 than to direct prudently. No person is likely to com- 
 mand well, who has never learnt to obey. 
 
 It will be very imprudent in a young person to take any 
 material step in life, without consulting the aged, and ex- 
 perienced especially, if possible, such as have had experi- 
 ence in his way of life. In one's choice of a friend, for 
 such occasions, smoothness of speech or complaisance is 
 not to be regarded. On the contrary, the most valuable 
 friend is he, who joins to a thorough knowledge of men 
 and things, matured by age and experience, an open, 
 blunt, and honest behaviour ; who will rather magnify, 
 than palliate, the faults and imprudences of his friend, to 
 his face, however he may defend him behind his back ; 
 and will not, on account of the trifling hazard of disoblig- 
 ing, suffer him to take a wrong step, without making an 
 open and honest remonstrance upon it. 
 
 There is one particular consideration, that makes asking 
 the advice of one's friends prudent and judicious. It is — 
 That, if it should so happen, as it often must, in spite of 
 one's utmost precaution, that his affairs should take a 
 wrong turn, he will not only have the less reason to reflect 
 upon himself; but the mouths of others will generally be 
 stopped : as he may for the most part have his advisers at 
 least, from mere self-conceit, to star' 1 *!p for the prudence 
 of his conduct, which was the consequence of their 
 advice. 
 
 You will often find, that in the very proposing to your 
 friend your difficulty, you yourself shall hit upon the means 
 of getting over it, before he has time to give you his opinion 
 upon it. And you will likewise find, that in advising 
 with a friend, a word dropt by him shall furnish you a 
 valuable hint for your conduct, which you shall wonder 
 how you yourself came to miss. 
 
 It must be owned, however that there are cases in which 
 no man can judge so well what steps should be taken as 
 the person concerned ; because he himself may know 
 several important particulars in his own affairs, which 
 would make it highly improper for him to follow the di- 
 rections another person might give, who was not aware 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 55 
 
 of those circumstances. Whoever, therefore, gives up 
 his judgment, and acts contrary to his own better know- 
 ledge, in compliance with the advice of his acquaintance, or 
 with common custom, is guilty of a weakness, the conse- 
 quences of which may prove fatal. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Of Method, Application, and proper Times for Business. 
 Of trusting to others. 
 
 THERE is nothing that contributes more to the ready 
 and advantageous dispatch, as well as to the safety and 
 success of business, than method and regularity. Let a 
 man set down in his memorandum-book, every morning 
 the several articles of business he has to do through the 
 day ; and beginning with the first person he is to call up- 
 on, or the first place he is to go to, finish that affair (if it 
 is to be done at all) before he begins another ; and so on 
 to the rest. A man of business, who observes this me- 
 thod, will hardly ever find himself hurried or disconcerted 
 by forgetfulness : And he who sets down all his transac- 
 tions in writing, and keeps his accounts, and the whole 
 state of his affairs, in a distinct and accurate order, so that 
 he can at any time, by looking into his books, presently 
 see in what condition his business is, and whether he ib in 
 a thriving or declining way ; such a one, I say, deserves 
 properly the character of a man of business, and has a fair 
 prospect of carrying his schemes to an happy issue. But 
 such exactness as this will by no means suit the man of 
 pleasure, who has other things in his head. 
 
 The way to transact a great deal of business in a little 
 time, and with great certainty, is to observe these rules. 
 To speak to the point. To use no more words than are 
 necessary fully to express your meaning ; and to study 
 beforehand, and set down in writing afterwards, a sketch 
 of the transaction. 
 
 There is one piece of prudence, above all others, abso- 
 lutely necessary to those who expect to raise themselves 
 in the world by an employment of any kind; I mean a 
 constant and unwearied application to the main pursuit. 
 By means of indefatigable diligence, joined with frugali- 
 
55 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 ty, we see many people in the lowest and most laborious 
 stations in life, raise themselves to such circumstances, as 
 will allow them, in their old age, that ease from labour of 
 body and anxiety of mind, which is neccssarv to make 
 the decline of life supportable. I have heard of a trades- 
 man who, at his first setting out, opened and shut his shop 
 every day, for several weeks together, without selling 
 goods to the value of one penny ; who, by the force of ap- 
 plication for a course of years, raised at last a handsome 
 fortune : And I have known many who have had a varie- 
 ty of opportunities for settling themselves comfortably in 
 the world, and who for want of steadiness to carry any one 
 scheme to perfection, have sunk from one degree of wretch- 
 edness to another for many years together, without all 
 hopes of ever getting above distress and pinching want. 
 
 There is hardly an employment in life so mean that will 
 not afford a subsistence, if constantly applied to: And it 
 is only by dint of indefatigable diligence, that a fortune 
 is to be acquired in business. An estate got by what is 
 commonly called a lucky hit, is a rare instance ; and he 
 who expects to have his fortune made in that way, is much 
 about as rational as he who should neglect all probable 
 means of living, on the hopes that he should some time 
 or other find a treasure. The misfortune of indolence is, 
 That there is no such thins: as continuing: in the same con- 
 ditiori without an income of one kind or other. If a man 
 does not bestir himself, poverty must overtake him at last. 
 If he continues to give out for the necessary charges of 
 life, and will not take the pains to gain somewhat to supply 
 his outgivings, his funds must at length come to an end, 
 and misery come upon him at a period of life when he is 
 ieafet able to grapple with it, I mean in old age, if not be- 
 fore. 
 
 The character of a sluggard must, I think, be owned 
 to be one of the most contemptible. In proportion to a 
 person's activity for his own good and that of his fellow- 
 creatures, he is to be reckoned a more or less valuable 
 member of society : And if all the idle people in a nation 
 were to die in one year, the loss would be inconsiderable, 
 in comparison of what the community must suffer by be- 
 ing deprived of a very few of the active and industrious. 
 Evert moment of time ought to be put to its proper use^ 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 57 
 
 either in business, in improving the mind, in the innocent 
 and necessary relaxations and entertainments of life, or in 
 the care of our souls. 
 
 And as we ought to be much more frugal of our time 
 than our money, the one being infinitely more valuable 
 than the other, so ought we to be particularly watchful 
 of opportunities. There are times and seasons proper 
 for every purpose of life : and a very material part of 
 prudence is to judge rightly of them, and make the best 
 of them. If you have, for example a favour to ask of a 
 phlegmatic gloomy man, take him, if you can, over his 
 bottle. If you want to deal with a covetous man, by no 
 means propose your business to him immediately after he 
 has been paying away money, but rather after he has been 
 receiving. If you know a person, for whose interest you 
 have occasion, is unhappy in his family, put yourself in 
 his way abroad, rather than wait on him at his own house. 
 A statesman will noi be likely to give you a favourable 
 audience immediately after meeting with a disappoint- 
 ment in any of his schemes. There are even many peo- 
 ple who are always sour and ill-humoured from their 
 rising till they have dined. And as in persons, so in things, 
 opportunity is of the utmost consequence. The tho- 
 rough knowledge of the probable rise and fall of merchan- 
 dize, the favourable seasons of importing and exporting, 
 a quick eye to see, and, a nimble hand to seize advantages 
 as they turn up ; these are the talents which raise men 
 from low to affluent circumstances. 
 
 It would be greatly for the advantage of men of busi- 
 ness, if they made it a rule, never to trust any thing of con- 
 sequence to another, which they can by any means do them- 
 selves. Let another have my interest ever so much at heart, 
 I am sure I have it more myself: And no substitute one can 
 employ, can understand one's business so well as the prin- 
 cipal, which gives him great advantage for doing things in 
 the best way, as he can change his measures according to 
 circumstances, which another has not authority to do. 
 As for dependants of all kinds, it is to be remembered, 
 always, that their master's interest possesses, at most, only 
 the second place in their minds. Self-love will ever be 
 the ruling principle, and no fidelity whatever will prevent 
 a person from bestowing a good deal of thought upon his 
 
 n 
 
jb OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 own concerns, which must break in, less or more, upon hi* 
 diligence in consulting the interest of his constituent 
 How men of business can venture, as they do, to trust 
 the great concerns some of them have, for one half of 
 every week in the year, which is half the year, to servants, 
 and they expect others to take care of their business, when 
 they will not be at the trouble of minding it themselves, 
 is to me inconceivable. Nor does the detection, from 
 time to time, of the frauds of such people, seem at all to 
 deter our men of business from trusting to them. 
 
 There is indeed nothing more difficult than to know 
 the characters of those we confide in. How should wr 
 imagine we can know those of others, when we are so un- 
 certain about our own ? What man can say of himself, 
 I never shall be capable of such a vice or weakness ? And 
 if not of himself, much less of another. Who would then 
 needlessly trust to another, when he can hardly be sure oi 
 himself? 
 
 SECTION IIL 
 
 Of Frugality and Economy. Of Projects. Of Diversions. 
 
 NEXT to diligence and assiduity in business, frugality 
 and economy are the most necessary for him who would 
 raise himself in the world by his own industry. Simple 
 nature is contented with a little, and there is hardly any em- 
 ployment which, if pursued with prudence and attention, 
 will not yield an income sufficient for the necessary uses oi" 
 life: as, on the other hand, no revenue is so great as to be 
 proof against extravagance. Witness the emperor Caligula, 
 who in a few years spent the riches of the world, at least of 
 the Roman world ; I mean the immense treasures his avari- 
 cious predecessor Tiberius had been amassing for twenty- 
 two years, besides the current revenues of the empire ; 
 and found himself reduced to straits, from the most exor- 
 bitant riches. Every person's experience confirms this 
 truth, That those pleasures of life which cost the most are 
 the least satisfactory and contrariwise. The noise of balls, 
 >, and masquerades, is tiresome; the parade of gilt 
 lies, of powdered footmen, and of state-visits, is ful- 
 some ; while the conversation of a wise and virtuous friend. 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 59 
 
 the endearments ef a faithful wife and innocent children, 
 oharity to the indigent, which none but a good economist 
 can bestow, the pursuit of useful and ornamental know- 
 ledge, the study of virtue and religion, these are entertain- 
 ments ever new and ever delightful. And if a wise man may 
 thus be satisfied from himself; if the noblest pleasures and 
 truest enjoyments are only to be had in our own hearts 
 and in our own houses, how great is the folly of mankind, 
 who flv from the genuine, the rational, the cheap, and easy 
 attainable enjoyments of life, in a mad pursuit after the 
 imaginary, expensive, and tiresome vanities of show and 
 ostentation ! Were the enjoyments which pomp and gran 
 deur yield (supposing them unimbittered with reflections 
 on their fatal consequences, which will ever be crowding 
 into the mind) infinitely more exquisite than those of vir- 
 tue and sobriety, which is the very contrary of the truth, 
 a prudent man would take care, in consideration of the 
 shortness of life, how he indulged them to die neglect of 
 the serious business of life, or to the ruin of his fortune 
 None but a madman would lavish away his whole patri- 
 mony in one season, with the prospect of poverty and mi- 
 sery for die remainder of his days: For he would consi- 
 der, that a life languished out in wretchedness, or in de- 
 pendence, would immensely overbalance the pleasure of 
 reflecting, that he had spent one year in hearing the finest 
 music, in seeing the politest company, in eating the rarest 
 food, and in drinking the richest wines the world could af- 
 ford ; Nay, he would foresee that the reflection upon past 
 pleasures and gaieties would only render his misery so 
 much the more intolerable. There is not, indeed, a more 
 deplorable case than that of a person, who, by his own fol- 
 ly, has reduced himself to beggary : For, besides the other 
 distresses he must struggle with, he has the cruel stings of 
 his own reflections to torture him, and is deprived of the 
 poor consolation of the sympathy and compassion of his 
 acquaintance. 
 
 Every person who happens by any means whatever, 
 though wholly out of his own power either to foresee or 
 prevent, to sink in the world, may lay his account with 
 meeting no little contempt and ill usage from the bulk of 
 his acquaintance, and even from those for whom he has* 
 m his prosperity done the greatest kindnesses. But when 
 
60 OF PRUDENCL 
 
 it is known that a man's misfortunes arc owing to his own 
 extravagance, people have too good a pretence for with- 
 holding their compassion or assistance, and for treating 
 him with neglect and contempt. It will therefore be a 
 young person's wisdom, before he goes too far, to make 
 such reflections as these ; " Shall I lavish away in youth- 
 ful pleasure and folly the patrimony that must support 
 me my whole life ? Shall I indulge myself in rioting and 
 drunkenness, till I have not a morsel of bread? Shall I 
 revel in plays, balls, and music-gardens, till I bring my- 
 self to a goal ? Shall I waste my substance in regaling a 
 set of wretches, who will turn their backs upon me when- 
 ever they have undone me ? Shall I pass my youth like a 
 lord, and be a beggar in my old age?" 
 
 There is nothing more unaccountable than the com- 
 mon practice in our times, among that part of the people 
 who ought to be the examples of frugality as well as of 
 industry, the citizens of London; I mean the usual way 
 of setting out in life. It seems, generally speaking, as if 
 our traders thought themselves in duty bound to go to 
 the utmost stretch of expense, which their circumstances 
 will afford, and even beyond, the very first year of their 
 setting up. That a young shop-keeper, and his new mar- 
 ried wife, whose joint fortunes would not make up five 
 thousand pounds, should begin with sitting in state to re- 
 ceive company, keeping footmen, carriages, and country- 
 houses, and awkwardly mimicking the extravagances of the 
 other end of the town, before they know how trade may 
 turn out, or how numerous a family of children they may 
 have to provide for ; what can be more preposterous ? As 
 if the public had so little discernment, as to conclude that 
 people's circumstances were always according to the 
 jhow they made. How easy is it for any man to increase 
 his expense, if he finds his income increase? And how 
 hard is it to be obliged, after setting out in a grand man- 
 ner, to retrench, and lower the sails : It is not indeed to be 
 done in trade, without affecting a person's credit, which 
 accordingly obliges many traders to goon in the exorbi- 
 tant way they first set out in, to their own ruin, and that of 
 others who have been engaged with them. In some 
 countries, insolvency, where a good account of the causes 
 which brought it on cannot be given, is punished with 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 61 
 
 death. If the law of England were as severe, what the 
 fate of many of the bankrupt citizens of London must 
 have been, every one may judge. 
 
 The great consumption of private fortunes is owing 
 chiefly to those expenses which are constant, and run on, 
 day after day, the whole year round. People do not 
 seem to attend sufficiently to the consequences of the 
 expense of one dish, or one bottle of wine more than, 
 enough in their daily economy. Yet the saving of thre^ 
 or four shillings a-day, will amount to sixty or eighty 
 pounds in a year ; which sum, saved up yearly for thirty 
 years, the ordinary time a man carries on business, would 
 amount to near five thousand pounds, reckoning interest ; 
 and still more, if you suppose it laid out in an advanta- 
 geous trade. 
 
 If any young gentleman of fortune imagines the large- 
 ness of his income sufficient to render frugality and econo- 
 my useless, a little experience will show him to his cost, 
 that no error can be greater. The charge of maintaining 
 a number of servants, who are to be supported not only in 
 necessaries, but in all the waste and destruction they please 
 to make ; the expense of coachmen, footmen, horses and 
 hounds, a town-house and country-seat, is enormous. 
 But if to these there be added the charge of a mistress, 
 that alone will surmount all the rest ; and the expense of 
 a steward will exceed all the others put together : For, as 
 none of the other dependants upon a great man have it in 
 their power to do mare than run away with a little of his 
 cash, or the provisions of his house from time to time, 
 they cannot utterly ruin him without his own knowledge : 
 But the steward, having the receiving and paying of all, in 
 his own hands, may very easily, in a short time, if his ac- 
 counts are not looked into, appropriate to himself the bulk 
 of the estate, and ruin his master before he has any suspi- 
 cion of his affairs being out of order. 
 
 It seems to me very unaccountable, that men of fortune 
 §hould think it necessary to go to the utmost stretch of 
 their incomes, and generally beyond them ; when they 
 must find, that a crowd of servants and dependants is but 
 a disturbance to happiness, which requires peace and tran- 
 quility, and flies from noise and ostentation. Is it neces- 
 sary for popularity ? By no means. Half the money laid 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 out for the service of the public, or in judicious charities, 
 would procure a gentleman the real esteem and affection 
 of his neighbours; whereasj the greatest expense laid out 
 upon those bloodsuckers^ which generally feed upon the 
 great; does but expose him to their contempt, who laugh 
 in their sleeve to find they can so grossly gull him out of 
 his money. 
 
 The employing a number of working people in improv- 
 ing barren grounds, in laying out plantations, in raising- 
 buildings for a continual increase of tenants upon a thriv- 
 ing estate, with the acquisition of new inhabitants, the en- 
 couragement of manufactures, and providing for the poor ; 
 these are the arts that will gain a country gentleman more 
 popularity, than keeping open house the whole year round. 
 
 Let me advise young people to be particularly cautious 
 of new schemes or projects. There is not one of a hund- 
 red that ever succeeds at all ; nor one of many hundreds 
 that brings their inventors any thing but disappointment 
 and ruin. The reason is pretty plain. It requires a great 
 expense to set any new scheme on foot. The bulk of 
 mankind are prejudiced against novelties, and conse- 
 quently are apt to oppose them. The generality of peo- 
 ple are likewise jealous of every scheme that may any 
 way affect their interest ; and many from pure envy, take 
 a pleasure in opposing and depreciating every new pro- 
 posal. The contriver himself is greatly at a loss, being 
 i ibliged to try various methods to bring his designs to 
 bear, and to lay out a certain expense for an uncertain 
 profit. So that we observe, accordingly, whoever pro- 
 jects any thing new in science, in mechanics, or in trade, 
 seldom does more than open the way for others to profit 
 by his ingenuity. 
 
 What shall be said upon the subject of pleasures and 
 diversions in an age, in which all ranks, sexes, and ages, 
 run to excess in this respect? And yet to make the 
 amusements of life, the business of life, is absurd in any ra- 
 tional being who has ever heard of a judgment to come, 
 and who is not absolutely certain (w r hich I believe hardly 
 any one will pretend) that he never shall be called to give 
 an account of the use he has made of his time. But if 
 there be any absurdity greater than another, it is, that a 
 man of business should set up for a man of taste and plea^ 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 65 
 
 sures : Yet \vc see the public diversions of this great city 
 crowded and supported chiefly by the citizens. We see 
 those whose business is in town, outvying one another in 
 the elegancy of their country-houses ; plays, balls, operas, 
 music- gardens, concerts, resorted to by the lowest me- 
 chanics — the consequences of which extravagances are 
 bankruptcies innumerable : — not to mention frauds, rob- 
 beries, forgeries, and so forth. It is no easy matter to 
 support a family in the most frugal way ; but when to 
 the ordinary conveniences of life, the above extravagances 
 are to be added, there is no end of it ; and the covetous- 
 ness of a spendthrift is incomparably more mischievous 
 than that of a miser. The latter will, at worst, only 
 grind the face of the poor, and take the advantage of all that 
 are less cunning than himself; but the former will not 
 stick at forgery, robbery, or murder. 
 
 At the same time, that it is hardly possible to say too 
 much against the inordinate pursuit of diversions, which 
 even defeats its own end, becoming, through excess, a 
 burden and fatigue, instead of a relaxation ; after all, I say, 
 that may be urged against this reigning folly of our times, 
 I know no j ust reason why a man of business should deny 
 himself the moderate use of such innocent amusements as 
 his fortune or leisure will allow ; his fortune, in a consist- 
 ency with supporting his family, and contributing to the 
 relief of the indigent, and his leisure, in a consistency with 
 the thorough knowledge of the state of his own affairs, 
 and doing offices of kindness to those about him. Some 
 of the most innocent amusements I know, are reading, viz. 
 history, lives, geography, and natural philosophy, with a 
 very little choice poetry : the conversation of a few agree- 
 able friends, and drawing, where there is a genius for it. 
 To these may be added, riding on horseback once or twice 
 in a week, where it can be done conveniently. 
 
 Music is never safely indulged, where there is too 
 great a desire to excel in it ; for that generally draws peo- 
 ple into an expense of time and money, above what the. 
 accomplishment, carried to the greatest length, is worth. 
 
 As for cards, and ail other ways of gaming, they are the 
 ruin of rational conversation, the bane of society, and the 
 mrsc of the nation. 
 
64 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Of Over -trading. Of Integrity, prudentially considered. 
 Of Credulity. Of prudent Conduct in case of a re- 
 verse of Fortune. Of the different Characters of 
 Men, and how to apply' them. 
 
 THERE is one error in the conduct of the industrious 
 part of mankind, whose effects prove as fatal to their for- 
 tunes as those of some of the first vices, though it is gene- 
 rally the most active and the ablest men who run into it : I 
 mean over- trading. Profusion itself is not more danger- 
 ous ; nor does idleness bring more people to ruin, than 
 launching out into trade beyond their abilities. The exu - 
 berant credit given in trade, though it is sometimes of ad- 
 vantage, especially to people whose capitals are small, is 
 yet perhaps, upon the whole, more detrimental that a gene- 
 ral diffidence would be. For a young trader to take the 
 utmost credit he can have, is only running the utmost risk 
 he can run. And if he would consider, that as others 
 trust him to a great extent, he must lay his account with 
 trusting those he deals with to a great value likewise ; and 
 that consequently, he must run a great many hazards of 
 his own payments falling short, and that the failure or dis- 
 appointment of two or three considerable sums at the 
 same time, may disable him from making his payments 
 regularly, which is utter ruin to his credit ; if, I say, a 
 young trader were to consider in this manner the conse- 
 quence of things, he would not think the offer of large 
 credit so much a favour, as a snare ; especially if he like- 
 wise reflected, that whoever offers him large credit, and 
 for a long time, without sufficient security, will think he 
 has a right to charge a very considerable profit upon the 
 commodities he sells him ; and consequently the advan- 
 tage he can gain by them, must be too inconsiderable to 
 make up for the risk he must run. The trader who gives 
 and takes large ere lit, especially if he has large concerns 
 ill foreign parts, and is not possessed of a very considera- 
 ble fortune, must be liable to such hazards, and such ter- 
 ror and anxiety, that I should think a very moderate pro- 
 fit arising from trading safely, and within a reasonable 
 compass, much the most eligible. I know but one sort 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 65 
 
 of trade in which large credit might be safely taken, viz. 
 where one could quickly make sales of large quantities of 
 goods for ready money ; and in such a trade, to take credit 
 when one might buy to greater advantage for ready money, 
 would be very absurd. 
 
 There is no subject which men of business ought to 
 have oftener in their view, than the precariousness of hu- 
 man affairs. In order to the success of any scheme, it is 
 necessary that every material circumstance take place ; as, 
 in order to the right going of a watch or clock, it is ne- 
 cessary that every one of the wheels be in order. To suc- 
 ceed in trade, it is necessary that a man be possessed of a 
 large capital ; that he be well qualified ; (which alone com- 
 prehends a great many particulars,) that his integrity be 
 unsuspected ; that he have no enemies to blast his credit; 
 that foreign and home markets keep nearly according to his 
 expectations ; that those he deals with, and credits to any 
 great extent, be both as honest and sufficient as he believes 
 them to be ; that his funds never fail him when he de- 
 pends on them ; and that, in short, every thing turn out 
 to his expectation. But surely it must require a very 
 great degree of that sanguine temper, so common in youth, 
 to make a man persuade himself that there is no manner 
 of hazard of his finding himself deceived, or disappointed 
 in some one, among so many particulars. Yet we com- 
 monly see instances of bankruptcies, where a trader shall 
 have gone to the extent of perhaps ten times the value of 
 his capital ; and by means of large credit, and raising 
 money with one hand, to pay with the other, has support- 
 ed himself upon the effects of other people, till at length, 
 some one or other of his last shifts failing him, down he 
 sinks with his own weight, and brings hundreds to ruin 
 with him. 
 
 Upon the head of over trading, and hastening to be 
 rich-, I cannot help making a remark on the conduct of 
 many traders of large capitals, who, for the sake of adding 
 to a heap, already too great, monopolize the market, or 
 trade for a profit which they know dealers of smaller for- 
 tunes cannot possibly live by. If such men really think, 
 that their raising themselves thus on the ruin of others is 
 justifiable, and that riches got in this manner are fairly 
 gained, they must either have neglected properlv inform - 
 
 I 
 
U6 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 ing their consciences, or must have stifled their remon- 
 strances. 
 
 Whoever Mould thrive in trade, let him take care, above 
 all things, to keep up to strict integrity. If a trader is 
 once known to be guilty of taking exorbitant profits ; or 
 other unfair advantages of those he deals with, there is an 
 end of his character : And unless a man can get a fortune 
 by one transaction, it is madness in prudentials to hazard 
 his whole reputation at once : And even if he could, giv- 
 ing his soul for an estate, would be but a losing trade. 
 But of this, more hereafter. 
 
 When it happens that one is solicited to lend money, or 
 interpose his credit for any person in difficulties, the right 
 way is, to make sure either that the sum furnished or en- 
 gaged for, be such as he can lay his account with losing, 
 without anv material detriment to his affairs, or that he 
 have an unexceptionable security in his hands. The con- 
 sequences of lending money, or being security for others, 
 generally prove the loss of both money and friend : For 
 people are commonly at the last pinch when they come to 
 borrowing, and it is not an inconsiderable sum that will 
 keep them from sinking : And the demand of payment 
 seldom fails to occasion disgust between friends. The 
 best method I know for supporting a man of merit in dis- 
 tress, is, for a set of three or four, or more, according to 
 the occasion, to contribute conjunctly, so that the loss be- 
 ing divided, if it should prove a loss, may not prove fatal 
 to any one concerned. And if in this, or any other pru- 
 dent way, one can do a service, in a time of need, to a per- 
 son of merit, one ought always to rejoice in the opportu- 
 nity ; and he will be highly to blame who neglects it. 
 But as there is infinite craft and knavery among mankind, 
 let me advise young people, to beware of the common 
 weakness that period of life is generally subject to, I mean 
 credulity. The most openhearted are the most liable to 
 be imposed upon by the designing ; though one would 
 think a man's knowing his own intentions to be sincere 
 and honest, should be no reason for Jus concluding every 
 one lie meets to be of the same character. 
 
 There is no certain method of avoiding the snares of 
 the crafty : But it would be a good custom if men of bu- 
 Mjiess made it their usual practice, in all their dealings, 
 
OF PRUDENCE. G7 
 
 where it is practicable, to draw up in writing, a minute or 
 memorial of every transaction, subscribed by both, with a 
 clalise signifying, that, in case of any difference, the\ 
 should both agree to submit the matter to arbitration : For 
 it is very common for a designing person, in making an 
 agreement, to take no notice of the reasonable and natural 
 consequences of an advantageous concession, but to put 
 off the person he wants to take an advantage of, with a ge- 
 neral phrase, as, We shan't fall out ; I assure you I mean 
 you well, I won't wrong you : and such like : And when 
 accounts come to be settled, and the party who thinks him- 
 self aggrieved declares, that he made the bargain altogether 
 with the prospect of having such and such advantages al- 
 lowed him ; No, says the sharper, / never told you I 
 would: Though it is the very same to all intents and pur- 
 poses of deceiving, as if he had expressly consented to it ; 
 yet the unhappy sufferer must sit down with the loss, be- 
 cause he can only say he was deceived by insinuations, and 
 not by a direct fraud within the reach of the law. One can- 
 not therefore be too exact in making contracts ; nor is 
 there indeed, any safety in dealing with deceitful and ava- 
 ricious people, though one thinks he uses the utmost 
 precaution. 
 
 It will, I believe, generally be found of good use, in 
 order to understand the real sentiments of mankind, and 
 to discover when they have any indirect design, to observe 
 carefully their looks. There is something in knavery 
 that Will hardly bear the inspection of a piercing eye : 
 And you will generally observe, in a sharper, an unsteady 
 and confused look. And if a person is persuaded of the 
 uncommon sagacity of one he is to appear before, he will 
 hardly be able to muster up enough of impudence and ar 
 tifice to bear him through without faltering. It will there- 
 fore be a good way to try one whom you suspect of a de- 
 sign upon you, by fixing your eyes upon his, and by 
 bringing up a supposition of your having to do with one 
 whose integrity you suspected, and what you would do in 
 such a case. If the person you are talking with, be really 
 what you suspect, he will hardly be capable of keeping his 
 countenance. 
 
 One ought always to suspect men remarkably avari- 
 cious. Great love of monev is a great enemv to honestv. 
 
68 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 The aged are more dangerous than young people. They 
 are more desirous of gain, and know more indirect ways of 
 coming at it, and of outwiting others, than the young. 
 It will be your wisdom to be cautious of all such ; and of 
 those, who in an affected manner bring in religion on all 
 occasions, in season and out of season ; of all smooth and 
 fawning people ; of those who are very talkative, and 
 who, in dealing with you, endeavour to draw off your at- 
 tention from the point in hand, by a number of incoherent 
 reflections introduced at random, and of the extremely 
 suspicious ; for it is generally owing to a consciousness of 
 a designing temper, that people are apt to suspect others. 
 If ever you hear a person boast of his having got any exor- 
 bitant advantage in his dealings, you may, generally speak- 
 ing, conclude such a one not too rigorously honest. It is 
 seldom that a great advantage is to be got, but there must 
 be great disadvantage on the other side. And whoever 
 triumphs in his having got by another's loss, you may 
 easily judge of his character. 
 
 There is a sort of people in the world, of whom the 
 young and unexperienced stand much in need to be warn- 
 ed. They are the sanguine promisers. They may be di- 
 vided into two sorts. The first are those, who, from a fool- 
 ish custom of fawning upon all those they come into com- 
 pany with, have learned a habit of promising to do great 
 kindnesses, which they have no thought of performing. 
 The other are a sort of warm people, who, while they are 
 lavishing away their promises, have really some thoughts 
 of doing what they engage for. But afterwards, when the 
 time of performance comes, the sanguine fit being gone 
 off, the trouble or expense appears in another light ; the 
 promiser cools, and the expectant is bubbled, and perhaps 
 greatly injured by the disappointment. 
 
 When it sb happens, as it will often unavoidably, in spite 
 of the greatest wisdom, and the strictest integrity of con- 
 duct, that a man of business has reason to think he cannot 
 long stand it, but must make a stop of payments, it will be 
 his wisdom to call together his creditors, to let them know 
 the state of his affairs before they come to the worst; and 
 gain, by an honest and full surrender of all, that forbear- 
 ance and favour, which are always readily granted on such 
 occasions. The longer a bad affair of that kind goes on, 
 
(OF PRUDENXE. 69 
 
 it grows the worse ; the constant expense of living, dimi- 
 nishes the funds ; the accounts become the more involv- 
 ed, and more and more bad debts sink the value of the 
 unfortunate man's estate. Nor is such a misfortune so 
 extremely formidable, where a trader can make it appear, 
 that neither gross mismanagement, nor indirect conduct 
 have occasioned it. On the contrary, it has often hap- 
 pened, that a trader has, by showing a singular degree of 
 honesty and disinterestedness on such an occasion, so won 
 the compassion and esteem of his creditors, that they 
 have not only allowed him time to make up his affairs, but 
 have even given him such encouragement, and done him 
 such kindnesses, as have enabled him to raise himself, by 
 his industry, to circumstances he was not likely ever to 
 have arrived at. If a trader will flounder on, from misfor- 
 tune to misfortune, in hopes of getting clear by some 
 lucky hit, he must be content to take the consequences ; 
 but prudence will direct to build no expectations on any 
 scheme, for the success of which one has not many differ- 
 ent probabilities, in case of the failure of one or two. 
 
 In case of bankruptcy, or otherwise, when an unfortu- 
 nate trader, through the lenity of his creditors, is dis- 
 charged, on giving up his effects, and paying as far as they 
 will go, there is not the least pretence for questioning, 
 whether he is obliged to make up the deficiency, if ever it 
 should be in his power. If every man is in justice oblig- 
 ed to make full payment of all he owes, there is no doubt 
 but in this case there is the same obligation, or rather in- 
 deed a stronger ; because the creditors have quitted part 
 of what they had a legal claim to, and have thereby laid 
 him under an obligation to do them justice, if ever it 
 should be in his power. 
 
 The success of business being so extremely precarious, 
 it is a very considerable part of prudence to take care what 
 sort of people one is concerned with. One would not 
 choose to take credit of an avaricious and cruel man, lest 
 it should happen, by an unlucky run of trade, that one's 
 affairs should go into confusion, and one should fall under 
 the power of such a person ; because one could expect 
 nothing from such a creditor but the most rigorous treat- 
 ment the law would allow. 
 
 The knowledge of human nature, the connection be- 
 
70 OP PRUDENXI-;. 
 
 tween men's general eharacters and their respective beliu- 
 viour, and the prudence of using mankind according to 
 their dispositions and circumstances, so as to gain one's 
 laudable designs by them, is a very important part of 
 conduct. 
 
 A miser, for example, is by no means a proper person 
 to apply to for a favour that will cost him any thing. Bui 
 if he be a man of any principle, he will make an excellent 
 partner in trade, or arbitrator in a dispute about property : 
 For he will condescend to little things, and stickle for 
 trifles, which a srenerous man would scorn. 
 
 A passionate man will fly into a rage at a trifling affront ; 
 but he will, generally speaking, soon forget thedisobliga- 
 tion, and will be glad to doany service in his power to make 
 it up with you. It is not therefore, by far, so dangerous 
 to disoblige such a one, as the gloomy, sullen mortal, who 
 hardly seems displeased, and yet will wait seven years for 
 an opportunity of doing you a mischief. Again, a cool 
 slow man is, generally speaking, the fittest to advise with : 
 but for dispatch of business, make use of the warm, san- 
 guine temper. 
 
 An old man will generally give you the best advice ; 
 but the young is the fittest for bustling for your interest. 
 There are some men of no character at all ; but take a new 
 tincture from the last company they were in. It is not 
 safe to have any thing to do with such. 
 
 Some men are wholly ruled by their wives, and most 
 men a good deal influenced by them; as in matters of the 
 economy and decorum of life it is fit they should. It will 
 therefore be prudent, generally speaking, to accommodate 
 one's schemes to the humour of both parties, when one is 
 to enter into important concerns with a married man. 
 
 It is in vain to look for any thing very valuable in the 
 mind of a covetous man. Avarice is generally the vice of 
 abject spirits ; as extravagance often, not always, of gene- 
 rous minds. Men, who have a great talent at getting of 
 money, most commonly have no other ; and you may for 
 the most part, take it for granted, that the man, who has 
 raised exorbitant wealth from nothing, has been too much 
 engaged in the pursuit of riches, to mind his own im- 
 provement, or any thing besides money. 
 
 \ bully is generally a coward. When, therefore, on^ 
 
OP PRUDENCE. 71 
 
 .happens unluckily to have to do with such a one, the best 
 way is to make up to him boldly, and answer him with 
 firmness ; if you show the least sign of submission, he 
 will take the advantage of it to use you ill. 
 
 A boaster is to be suspected in all he says. Such men 
 have a natural infirmity, which makes them forget what 
 they are about, and run into a thousand extravagances, 
 which have no connection with truth. Their assertions, 
 their professions of friendship, their promises, and their 
 threatenings, go for nothing with men of understanding 
 and knowledge of the world. They are by no means to 
 be trusted with a secret. If they do not discover it from 
 vanity, they will through levity. There is the same dan- 
 ger in trustina- the man who loves his bottle, and is often 
 disordered with liquor. 
 
 A meek tempered man is not the proper person to soli- 
 cit business for you : his modesty will be easily con- 
 founded. Nor is the man of passion, nor the talkative 
 man : the first will be apt to be put out of temper, and 
 the other to forget himself, and blunder out somewhat 
 that may be to the prejudice of the negociation. The 
 fittest character to be concerned with, is that in which 
 are united an inviolable integrity, founded upon rational 
 principles of virtue and religion, a cool but daring tem- 
 per, a friendly heart, a ready hand, long experience, and 
 extensive knowledge of the world, with a solid reputation 
 of many years standing, and easy circumstances. 
 
 A man's ruling passion is the key by which you may 
 let yourself into his character, and may pretty nearly guess 
 at his future conduct, if he be not a wit or a fool ; for 
 they act chiefly from caprice. There are likewise con- 
 nections between the different parts of men's characters, 
 which it will be useful for you to study. If you find a 
 man to be cowardly, for example, you may suspect him 
 to be cruel, deceitful, and sordid. If you know another 
 to be hasty and passionate, you may generally take it for 
 granted, he is open and artless ; and so on. But these 
 rules admit of exceptions. 
 
 There are six sorts of people, at whose hands you need 
 not expect much kindness. The sordid and narrow mind- 
 ed, think of nobody but their noble selves. The lazy wiU 
 not take the trouble to serve you. The busy have not 
 
72 OF PRUDENXE. 
 
 time to think of you. The overgrown rich man is above 
 minding any one who needs his assistance. The poor 
 and unhappy, lias neither spirit nor ability. The good 
 natured fool, however willing, is not capable of serving 
 you. 
 
 In negociating, there are a number of circumstances to 
 be considered, the neglect of any of which may defeat 
 your whole scheme. First, the sex. Women, generally 
 speaking, are naturally diffident and timorous; not admi- 
 rers of plain undisguised truth, apt to be shocked at the 
 least defect of delicacy in the address of those who ap- 
 proach them ; fond of new schemes ; if frugal, apt to de- 
 viate into sordid narrowness ; almost universally given to 
 show and finery ; easily influenced by inconsiderable mo- 
 tives, if suitable to their humour ; and not to be convinc- 
 ed of the propriety of your proposal, so much by solid 
 reasoning, as by some witty or lively manner of offering 
 it ; once displeased and always cold ; if wicked enough 
 to be revengeful, will stick at nothing to accomplish it. 
 But this last is an uncommon character. 
 
 The age of the person you are to deal with is also to be 
 considered. Young people are easily drawn into any 
 scheme, merely for its being new, especially if any cir- 
 cumstance in it suits their vanity or love of pleasure. 
 They arc as easily put out of conceit with a proposal by the 
 next person they converse with. They are not good coun- 
 sellors : but are very fit for action, where you prescribe 
 them a track, from which they know they are not to vary, 
 which ought always to be done. For youth is generally 
 precipitate and thoughtless. Old age, on the contrary, is 
 slow, but sure ; cautious, generally, to a degree of suspi- 
 ciousness ; averse to new schemes and ways of life ; gene- 
 rally inclining towards covetousness ; fitter to consult with, 
 than to act for you ; not to be won by fair speeches, or 
 convinced by long reasonings ; tenacious of old opinions, 
 customs, and formalities ; apt to be disobliged with those, 
 especially younger people, who pretend to question their 
 judgment ; fond of deference, and of being listened to. 
 Young people in their anger mean less than they say ; 
 old people more. You may make it up with most young 
 men ; old people are generally slow in forgiving. 
 
 The proper time of addressing a person, upon an affair 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 73. 
 
 of any consequence, is to be carefully considered. Wait 
 on a courtier, when he, or any friend, whose interest he 
 espouses, is candidate for some place of preferment. He 
 will not then venture to give you a flat denial (however he 
 may gull you with promises) for fear you should have it 
 in your power to traverse his design. Or when he has 
 just had success in some of his schemes; for, being then 
 in good humour, he may give you a more favourable re- 
 ception. Do business with a phlegmatic, slow man, after 
 he has drank his bottle ; for then his heart is open. Treat 
 with a gay man in the morning ; for then, if ever, his head 
 is clear. . 
 
 SECTION. V. 
 
 Of the Regard due to the Opinion of others. Of Quarrels. 
 
 THERE is a weakness very common among the best 
 sort of people, which is very prejudicial, to wit; letting 
 their happiness depend too much upon the opinion of 
 others. It is certain there is nothing more contemptible 
 than the good or bad opinion of the multitude. Other 
 people lie under such disadvantages for coming at our 
 true characters, and are so often misled by prejudice for 
 or against us, that it is of very little consequence whether 
 they approve our conduct, if our own conscience con- 
 demns us, or whether they find fault, if we are sure we 
 acted from honest motives, and with a view to worthy- 
 ends. But indeed, if it were worth while to endeavour 
 to please mankind, it is naturally impracticable ; for the 
 most part are so much governed by fancy, that what will 
 win their hearts to-day, will disgust them to-morrow ; and 
 the humours and prejudices, which rule them, are so vari- 
 ous, and so opposite, that what will please one sect or 
 party, will thoroughly dissatisfy the contrary. 
 
 A wise man, when he hears of reflections made upon 
 him, will consider if they are just or not. If they are, he 
 will correct the faults taken notice of publicly by an enemy, 
 as carefully as if they had been hinted to him in private by 
 a friend. He, who has in himself wherewith to correct 
 his errors, has no reason to be uneasy at finding them out j 
 but the contrary. 
 
 K 
 
74 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 When one has hud information of his being ill used by 
 another behind his back, it is first of all, necessary to know 
 with the utmost certainty, the exact truth of what was 
 said, and the manner and probable design of the speaker. 
 Otherwise the consequence may be, that, after you have 
 expressed your resentment, you may find the whole was 
 false, or not worth your notice, which last is generally the 
 case. And then you are obliged to own you went too 
 far, so that the other then thinks himself the offended per- 
 son. And very few of mankind know what it is sincerely 
 and from the heart to forgive, even after the most abject 
 submission. 
 
 He who sets up for forgiving all injuries, Mill have no- 
 thing else to do. He who appears to be weak, will be of- 
 ten imposed on. And he who pretends to extraordinary- 
 shrewdness, invites deceivers to try their talent upon him. 
 Therefore, a little spirit, as well as much sagacity, is neces- 
 sary, to be upon even terms with the world. 
 
 If you can bring yourself either not to listen to slanders 
 against yourself; not to believe that they were uttered; to 
 persuade yourself that the person who uttered them, was 
 out of humour at the time, or was drunk, or that he did 
 not so much mean to prejudice you, as to divert the com- 
 pany ; that h,' was imposed upon with respect to your 
 character; or that he is to be pitied and forgiven ; if 5 ou 
 can bring yourself to any of these, you may make your- 
 self easy, and rise above scandal and malice. And if you 
 should make a matter of law, or of life and death, of every 
 idle surmise against you, you will not be a whit the more 
 secure from scandal ; but the contrary. Nothing will so 
 effectually keep you under cover from the strife of tongues, 
 as a peaceable disposition, lo\ ing retirement and obscurity, 
 and averse to meddling with the affairs of others. 
 
 It is very difficult to interfere in other people's quarrels 
 or concerns of any kind, without suffering from it, one way 
 or other. The wisest men are always the most cautious 
 cf such interpositions : well knowing how little good is to 
 be done, and what a risk one runs. Even when advice is 
 asked, it is very often without any intention of following 
 it. And the only consequence of giving one's sentiments 
 freely, is disobliging. 
 
 The proper temper of mind for accommodating a differ- 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 73 
 
 ence, if one has any regard either to prudence or humanity, 
 is by no means a spiteful, a revengeful, or a sour humour. 
 For such a behaviour will only widen the breach, and in- 
 flame the quarrel. 
 
 At the same time, will it not be prudent to appear dis- 
 posed to put up with any terms, or drop the affair in dis- 
 pute at any rate, though that is often the best that is to be 
 done. 
 
 When one has to do with a bad man he may think him- 
 self well off, if he suffers but a little by him, and be thank- 
 ful that he has got clear of him- For such a one will go 
 lengths against a conscientious person, which he dares not 
 to go in his own defence. 
 
 It is vain to think of doing any thing by letters towards 
 clearing up a point in dispute. One hour's conversation 
 will do more than twenty letters. They are ticklish wea- 
 pons, and require to be handled with the greatest caution. 
 
 On the present head of differences and quarrels, it may 
 not be amiss just to touch upon the subject of duels, aris- 
 ing from a false notion of the point of honour. True ho- 
 nour does not consist in a waspish temper, or a disposition 
 to make a matter of bloodshed of every trifle ; but in an in- 
 vincible attachment to truth and virtue, in spite of fear, 
 shame, or death itself. And if it be better to flatter a 
 fool, than fight him ; if it be wisdom, of two evils to 
 choose the least ; and if the consideration of the atrocious 
 wickedness of throwing away life, and rushing into the 
 presence of our Almighty Judge in the very act of insult- 
 ing him, without opportunity for repentance, had its due 
 weight with people, one would think they would contrive 
 any way of settling disputes, rather than with the sword. 
 If a person has committed a slight injury against me, 
 where lies the prudence, or the common sense, of giving 
 him an opportunity of injuring me still worse ; I mean by 
 taking my life. 
 
 I greatly approve the conduct of an English officer in 
 Flanders, whose example may serve as an universal mo- 
 del. That gentleman, having received a challenge from 
 another, refused to be the cause of the shedding of either 
 his own, or another's blood, cold. The challenger posted 
 him for a coward : He posted the other for a liar. The 
 challenger threatened to cane him. He told him he would 
 
76 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 stand on his own defence. The challenger attacked him. 
 He received him \ ithablow oi acudgel on the head, which 
 laid him sprawling. He recovered, drew, and made an 
 ill-directed pass at the pacific gentleman, who received 
 him on the point of his sword ; which ended the quarrel. 
 The gentleman's courage being well known, and the whole 
 affair being public, it was brought in man-slaughter. 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 Of Marriage. 
 
 IT is one of the greatest unhappinesses of our times 
 that matrimony is so much discountenanced : That in 
 London, and in other great cities, so many never marry 
 at all, and that the greatest part have got into the unhappy 
 and unnatural way of wasting the best years of their lives, 
 in pursuit of a giddy round of vain amusements and crimi- 
 nal pleasures, (if any thing criminal can be called a plea- 
 sure ;) looking upon the married state as the end of all the 
 happiness of life, whereas it is in truth, when entered into 
 with prudence, only the beginning. How do we accord- 
 ingly see our youth go on to thirty or forty years of age, 
 without ever thinking of settling in life, as becomes 
 christians and members of society, till at last, being sated 
 and cloved with lawless love, avarice drives them to seek 
 the alliance of a wealthy family, or dotage puts them 
 upon misapplying that sacred institution to the most sordid 
 purposes. 
 
 The advantage of early marriage, both to the commu- 
 nity and to particulars, and the mischiefs which might 
 thereby be prevented, are not to be expressed. It is there- 
 fore my advice to all my young readers, that they enter 
 into the marriage state as soon as they find themselves 
 settled in a likely way of supporting a family. And I can 
 promise them, upon the general experience of all prudent 
 and good-natured men, that, if they make a judicious 
 choice, the only thing they will have occasion to repent of, 
 will be, that they did not enter into that state sooner ; and 
 that they will find it as much beyond the happiest single 
 life, as ease and affluence are beyond the narrowest circum- 
 stances. Indeed, what can be conceived more perfect in 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 77 
 
 an imperfect state, than an inseparable union of interests 
 between two persons, who love one another with sincerity 
 and tenderness; who mutually desire to oblige one another; 
 and who can, with the utmost freedom, unbosom to 
 one another ail their joys, and all their griefs, whereby the 
 one may be double and the other divided P If friendship 
 has afforded matter for so many commendations, worked 
 up with innumerable figures of rhetoric, what m.iy not be 
 said of that most perfect of all friendships, which subsists 
 between married persons ? 
 
 I do not deny, that there are women, whose natural tem- 
 pers are so unhappy, that it is not easy to live with them ; 
 nor that the ladies of our times give themselves up, too ge- 
 nerally to an idle and expensive manner of life, to the great 
 detriment of economy, and the vexation of prudent mas- 
 ters of families : but it must be owned, at the same time, 
 that the greatest number of unhappy husbands have them- 
 selves chiefly to thank for what they suffer. If a man will 
 be so weak, as for the sake of either beauty or fortune, to 
 run the desperate hazard of taking to his bosom a fury, or 
 an idiot ; or if he will suffer a woman, who might by gen- 
 tle and prudent ways, be reclaimed from her follies, to run 
 on to ruin, without having the spirit to warn her of the con- 
 sequences ; or if, instead of endeavouring by the humane 
 methods of remonstrance and persuasion, joined with the 
 endearments of conjugal affection, which a woman must 
 be a monster to resist ; I say, i£ instead of endeavouring, 
 by mild and affectionate methods, to show her the error 
 and bad consequences of her manner of life, a man will 
 resolve to carry things with a high hand, and to use a wo- 
 man of natural sense, birth, and fortune, every way equal 
 to himself, as a slave, or a fool, it is no wonder that his re- 
 monstrances are ineffectual, and that domestic peace is in- 
 terrupted and economy subverted. 
 
 It is not the most exquisite beauty, the most sprightly 
 wit, or the largest fortune, nor all three together, nor an 
 hundred other accomplishments, if such there were, that 
 will make a man happy in a partner for life, who is not en- 
 dowed with the two principal accomplishments, of good 
 sense and good nature. If a woman has not common 
 sense, she can be in no respect a fit companion f )r a rea- 
 sonable man. On the contrary, the whole behaviour of a 
 
78 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 fool must be disgusting and tiresome to every one that 
 knows her, especially to a husband, Avho is obliged to be 
 more in her company than any one else, who must there- 
 fore see more of her folly than any one else, and must 
 suffer more from the shame of it, as being more nearly 
 connected with her than any person. If a woman has 
 not some small share of sense, what means can a husband 
 use to set her right in any error of conduct, into many of 
 which she will naturally run ? Not reason or argument, 
 for a fool is proof against that. And if she has not a lit- 
 tle good nature, to attempt to advise her, will be only ar- 
 guing with a tempest, or rousing a fury. 
 
 If, between the two married persons, there be, upon the 
 whole enough for a comfortable subsistence according to 
 their station and temper of mind, it signifies very little 
 whether it comes by one side, or the other, or both. No- 
 thing is more absurd, than that it should seem of such im- 
 portance in the judgment of many people, that a gentleman 
 make a match suitable to himself, as they often very im- 
 properly call it; by which they mean, that he is in duty 
 bound to find out a lady possessed of a fortune equal to 
 his own, though what he has already, may be more than 
 sufficient for supporting the rank he is born in. The con- 
 sequences of this mercenary way of proceeding, are only 
 the accumulating more and more materials for luxury, 
 vanity, and ostentation, the perversion of the institution of 
 marriage, which was for the mutual support and comfort of 
 the parties, into a mere affair of bargain and sale ; the alie- 
 nating, or cooling the affections of the parties for one an- 
 other, by showing each of them, that the union was not 
 entered into by the other on account of any personal re- 
 gards, but from mercenary motives only ; and the separa- 
 tion, instead of the union of interests. It is no wonder, 
 that such marriages prove unhappy ; and that each should 
 look upon the other as a clog annexed to the fortune, which 
 was the principal object each aimed at, and should there- 
 fore mutually wish one another well out of the way. 
 
 I do not here mean to insinuate, that every woman of 
 fortune must of course be good for nothing. But, that a 
 man in affluent circumstances is much to blame, who, for 
 the sake of adding to an heap, already too large, enters into 
 an engagement, to which inclination does not lead him, 
 
OP PRUDENCE. 79 
 
 and deprives himself of an opportunity of gaining and fix- 
 ing the affections of a virtuous and amiable person, raised 
 bv "him to a rank above her expectations, and thereby inspir- 
 ed, if she is not wholly void of goodness, with such a sense of 
 gratitude to her benefactor, as must influence all her actions. 
 
 On the other hand, nothing is more dreadful than the 
 prospect those people have, who from romantic love, run 
 precipitately into an engagement, that must hold for life, 
 without considering or providing for the consequences. 
 Two young persons, who hurry into marriage, without a 
 reasonable prospect of an income to support them and 
 their family, are in a condition as wretched as any I know 
 of, where a guilty conscience is out of the question. Let 
 a man consider a little, when he views the object of his 
 passion, to whom he longs to be united by a sacred and 
 indissoluble bond, how he will bear to see those eyes, 
 every glance of which makes his heart bound with joy, 
 drowned in tears, at the thought of misery and poverty 
 coming upon her ; how he will bear to see that face, whose 
 smile rejoices his soul, grown pale and haggard through 
 anguish of mind ; or how he will bear to think that the 
 offspring, she is going to bring forth, is to be born to beg^ 
 gary and misery. If young people consider maturely 
 the fearful consequences of marriage, where there is no, 
 prospect of a proper provision, and where the anguish of 
 poverty will be the more intolerable, the more sincere their 
 affections are ; they would not run headlong, as we often 
 see them, into misery irretrievable. 
 
 It may often happen, that the family and connexions 
 with which a woman is engaged, may alone be of more 
 advantage to a man than a fortune ; as on the other hand, 
 it may happen, that a woman of fortune, may be so given 
 to expense, or may bring with her such a tribe of poor 
 relations, as thrice the income of her fortune would not be 
 sufficient to maintain. In either of these cases, a man's 
 prudence is to direct him to make that choice which will 
 be the best upon the whole. 
 
 It is a fatal error in the conduct of many young people 
 in the lower ranks of life, to make choice of young women, 
 who have been brought up in indolence and gaiety, and 
 are not possessed of fortunes suitable to the manner of 
 life they nave been accustomed to. The probable conse- 
 quence of sucn matches, is great and remediless misery. 
 
30 OF PfcUDENXE. 
 
 For such women, having never been practised in the econo- 
 my of families, arc incapable of applying themselves with 
 that attention and assiduity, much less condescension, to 
 the meaner parts of household affairs which is absolutely 
 necessary, where the income is but moderate. If a young 
 trader's gains are but small, and his help-mate neither 
 brings in any thing to the common stock, nor knows how 
 to make the most of a little, and at the same time there 
 is a prospect of a numerous family of children coming on, 
 with die casualties of sickness, a decay of trade, and so forth, 
 the man, who finds himself involved in such a scene of 
 troubles, may justly be looked upon, as among the most 
 wretched of mortals. 
 
 Those marriages, in short, are likely to be crowned with 
 all the happiness this state admits of, where a due regard 
 is had to the qualities of the mind, to personal endowments 
 as an agreeable appearance, and a suitable age, and to 
 prudential considerations ; and where either the one or the 
 other is neglected, misery is the consequence to be 
 looked for. 
 
 There is no care or diligence too much to use, nor any 
 inquiry too curious to be made, before one engages for 
 life. In an unhappy marriage every little occurrence^ 
 every trifling circumstance calls to remembrance the 
 wretchedness of the state, and the happiness one has miss- 
 ed by making an injudicious choice ; as, on the contrary, 
 in an happy union, no accident is too trifling to pass with- 
 out furnishing somewhat to give pleasure or entertainment, 
 which must be heightened by being mutual. Let young 
 people, therefore, be advised, above all things, to be care- 
 ful what choice they make. And, that they may be effect- 
 ually divested of all prejudices and attachments in favour 
 of any person, whose outward appearance, fortune, birth, 
 or any other circumstance, separate from the endowments 
 of the mind, may be apt to mislead them, let them con- 
 siderthe character of the object, abstractly from the glare 
 of beauty, or the lustre of fortune, and then be true to 
 themselves, and act the part which the judicious and im- 
 partial approve of. 
 
 Let a young gentleman observe, before he allows his 
 affection to fix upon a particular object, what figure and 
 < haracter she bears in the world ; whether others admire 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 81 
 
 her, as well as himself ; especially, whether the cool and 
 judicious, and elderly people approve her character, con- 
 duct, and all circumstances, as well as the young, the 
 thoughtless, and passionate. The bloom of beauty will 
 soon wither ; the glitter of riches, and the farce of gran- 
 deur, will quickly become insipid ; nor will any thing 
 earthly give peace to the wretch who has taken a serpent 
 into his bosom, whose sting he feels every moment in 
 his heart. 
 
 During the time of courtship, though a man must re- 
 solve to put on a smooth and engaging behaviour, there 
 is no necessity, nor is it expected by the reasonable part 
 of womankind, that the dignity of the nobler sex should 
 be laid aside, and the lover debase himself, from a man of 
 spirit, to a slave or a sycophant. On the contrary, it is 
 absolutely necessary, if people are resolved to consult the 
 happiness of the marriage state, to behave to one another 
 in courtship, in such a manner, that neither may have 
 reason to reproach the other with having acted a deceitful 
 and unworthy part. For, if mutual love and esteem be 
 the very cement of matrimonial happiness, and if it be 
 impossible to love and esteem a person, who has deceived 
 and imposed upon one, how cautious ought both parties 
 to be, before entering into so close an union, of doing 
 what may tend to lessen their mutual love and esteem for 
 one another ? 
 
 Nor is there less prudence requisite for preserving the 
 happiness of the marriage state, than for establishing it 
 at first. When it happens, as it will unavoidably at times, 
 that the husband, or wife, is a little out of humour, it will 
 be highly imprudent for the other to insist upon reason, 
 ing the matter out, or deciding the point in question, at 
 that time. The dispute ought to be let alone, at least, till 
 some time afterwards, or, if possible, dropped entirely. 
 It may even be proper often to give up a point, and agree, 
 ( contrary to one's own j udgment) to what isadvanced by the 
 other ; Avhich will show, that one does not oppose from 
 mere perverseness ; but on good grounds. 
 
 Again, if one happens to be in a thoughtful, or serious 
 mood, it must be very injudicious in the other to put on a 
 very gay behaviour ; and contrariwise. Married people 
 ought to think nothing trifling, or of small consequence, 
 
 L 
 
£2 OF PRUDENXE. 
 
 that may please or disgust one another. They ought to 
 watch one another's looks ; to study one another's tempers ; 
 to fly to oblige one another ; and to be afraid of the blowing 
 of a feather, if it has the least chance to displease. For, 
 while the husband consults his wife's satisfaction, he is 
 studying to promote his own happiness, and so of the wife. 
 Cleanliness, dress, complaisance; every little piece of ob- 
 sequiousness and tenderness ; consulting one another upon 
 every trifle, however obvious ; commendations of one an- 
 other's judgment or taste, if expressed with address, and 
 without the appearance of flattery ; yielding every point, 
 if possible, before there be time to dispute it ; these are the 
 arts, by which love is kept alive for life. 
 
 Too great, and too constant fondness and indulgence 
 will sometimes be found to lessen affection, as it may make 
 the smallest occasional remission, or change of behaviour, 
 be construed into coldness. Even the constant presence 
 of married persons together, where there is no opportunity 
 of longing for the sight of one another, may occasion in- 
 indifferenee. bo delicate is the passion of love, and so 
 easily cooled ! 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 Of the Management of Children. 
 
 CHILDREN being the usual consequence of mar- 
 riage, it is natural in this place to say something on the 
 conduct that is necessary for bringing them up to matu- 
 rity, and settling them in the world. 
 
 It is certain, that what very strongly affects the mother, 
 will likewise often produce amazing effects both upon the 
 body and mind of the infant in her womb. If, therefore, a 
 man docs not choose to have a monster, an ideot, or a fu- 
 rv born to him, he ought to take the utmost care, that his 
 pregnant wife be kept as much as possible from the sight 
 of uncouth objects, and from whatever may terrify her, or 
 ruffle her temper. Indv ed, the distress a weak woman un- 
 dergoes in that condition is such, that none but a savage 
 could find in his heart to heighten by ill usage. 
 
 The child being brought into the world, the care of its 
 health lies wholly upon the mother. And that mother, 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 80 
 
 who, according to the present polite custom, more bar- 
 barous than any that prevails among the brutes, turns her 
 own offspring over to the care of a mercenary nurse, on 
 any pretence but absolute necessity, ought not to be sur- 
 prised, if her child grows up with a diseased constitution, 
 or a depraved disposition, the effects of sucking the breast 
 of an unhealthy or ill tempered woman ; or if its tender 
 limbs be distorted, its faculties stupified, or its days short- 
 ened by gin, opium, or Godfrey's Cordial.* 
 
 Whoever would have healthy and hardy children, must 
 not onlv live temperately themselves, but must take care, 
 that their children, especially in their infancy, be kept from 
 all manner of gross food, as meat and sauces, and be allow- 
 ed to indulge very sparingly in sweetmeats, but by no 
 means to touch strong liquors. With every bit of the 
 one, or a sip of the other, an infant swallows the seeds of a 
 variety of species of diseases. For it being impossible 
 that the stomach of a child should be strong enough to di- 
 gest what those of grown people cannot, without prejudice 
 to their constitutions, and shortening of their days, it is 
 plain, that such substances must turn to crudities, which 
 must mix with and corrupt the whole mass of blood. If 
 a child is never used to indulgences in this respect, he will 
 suffer nothing from the refusal of what is not fit for him. 
 For he will be just what he is made by habit and custom. 
 
 From the time a child begins to -speak, to four or five 
 years of age, is the proper period for breaking and forming 
 his temper. If that important work is not done within this 
 time, it is, in most children, not to be done at all. For the 
 mind quickly acquires a degree of obstinacy and untract- 
 ableness, that is not to be conquered by any methods 
 which tender parents can bring themselves to use. And 
 habits once rooted, are not to be eradicated but by very 
 violent means. 
 
 Of all the follies which show themselves in innumera- 
 ble different ways, in the conduct of our weak and short- 
 sighted species, there is none that is more general, that 
 goes more extravagant lengths, or proves more fatal, than 
 that which appears in the partiality of fond patents for 
 their children. To love our offspring with the utmost 
 
 * A common custom with industrious nurses, to quiet the children com- 
 jutted to their care, tliat they may in the mean time goon with *ther business* 
 
84 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 tenderness, to labour, to wish, and to pray for their real 
 good, is no doubt our indispensable duty. But to shut 
 our eves against their faults, or to resolve not to correct 
 them for fear of giving them a little pain ; to effeminate 
 and enervate their spirits by fondling them ; to grant to 
 their importunity, what we ought on all accounts to re- 
 fuse ; to hurt their constitutions, by indulging them in 
 what is improper for them ; to neglect the cultivation of 
 their minds with useful knowledge, through fear of over* 
 burdening their faculties ; and above all, to be so weak as 
 to let them know our weakness ; if there be any infir- 
 mity beyond this, it must be somewhat I have never 
 heard of. 
 
 By that time people come to be parents it is to be ex- 
 pected they should be past the folly of youth, the usual ex- 
 cuse for the next greatest weakness of human nature, I 
 mean romantic love. But we see every day, instances to 
 the contrary ; parents indulging, their children in every 
 wrong tendency, and even delighted with that very obsti- 
 nacy, and those very follies, which they cannot but think, 
 must one day, make both them and their children un- 
 happy ; allowing themselves to be overcome by their soli- 
 citations, to grant them what they know must prove hurt- 
 ful to them ; and withholding from them, at their desire, 
 what they know is their greatest good. 
 
 A proof of the mischiefs arising from fondness for chil- 
 dren, is, that we find by experience, the fools in a great 
 family are generally the eldest and youngest, whose fate is 
 commonly to be most doted on. Those in the middle, 
 who pass neglected, are commonly found to turn out best 
 in life. Natural sons, foundlings, and outcasts, often 
 make their way better in the world, by their own industry, 
 with little or no education, than those who have been 
 brought up in effeminacy and extravagance, and with ex- 
 pectations of a fortune ; whose education is by those 
 means in a great measure defeated. 
 
 If you observe your child given to falsehood, one of 
 the worst tendencies that can discover itself in a young 
 mind, (as implying a kind of natural baseness of spirit,) 
 the point in view must be, to endeavour to raise in him 
 such a sense of honour, as may set him above that base 
 practice. For this purpose, it may be proper to express 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 85 
 
 the utmost astonishment upon the first information of his 
 transgressing that way ; to seem to disbelieve it, and to 
 punish him rather with shame and the loss of your favour, 
 than any other way ; and if you can raise in him a sense 
 of shame, you will quickly habituate him to take care of 
 falling into shameful actions. A turn to pilfering of play- 
 things, or sweetmeats, is to be treated in the same man- 
 ner; as, is also, a disposition to tricking at play, and in 
 purchasing of playthings of others, his equals. 
 
 To remove out of the way one great temptation to ly- 
 ing, or equivocation, (which is as bad,) it will be a good 
 method to let him know, he may always expect to be par- 
 doned what he has done amiss, upon an honest and ingen- 
 uous confession. For indeed, there is no fault a child is 
 likely to be guilty of, that is so bad as a lie, or trick, to 
 excuse it. Therefore it will be best, before you mention 
 what you have to accuse him of, to put it in his power to 
 save the punishment, by making the discovery himself; 
 intimating, that you know more than he may think of, and 
 that you will treat him accordingly as you find he deals 
 ingenuously with you, or otherwise. 
 
 If your son seems to show a turn to craft, and sly de- 
 ceit, which appears in some children very early, and is a 
 Aery unpromising character, the likeliest way to break him 
 of that vice, is by showing him that his little arts are seen 
 through ; by triumphing over him, and ridiculing his in- 
 effectual cunning in the severest manner you can ; and by 
 suspecting some design in all he says and does, and put- 
 ting him to such inconveniences by your suspicions of 
 him, as may make him resolve to be open and honest, 
 merely in self-defence. 
 
 If his bent be to passion and resentment, shutting him 
 up, and keeping him from his diversions and playfellows, 
 is the proper method of treating him ; because it gives 
 him an opportunity for what he most wants, to wit, con- 
 sideration, and attention to his own weakness, which is all 
 that is in early age necessary to the conquest of it. 
 
 If he appears timorous or cowardly, it will be necessary 
 to accustom him, by degrees, to crowds, to stormy weath- 
 er, to rough waters, to the sight of counterfeit fighting 
 matches, and to be handled a little roughly, but without 
 danger of being hurt, by others of his own age. If his 
 
80 OP PRUDENXE. 
 
 temper seems too boisterous, so that he is always ready to 
 quarrel, and loves fighting for fighting's sake, keeping him 
 among the female part of the family, is the likeliest me- 
 chanical means I know for softening his manners. 
 
 If he shows too much self conceit, it will be necessary to 
 mortify him from time to time, by showing him his de- 
 fects, and how much he is exceeded by others. If he is 
 bashful and timorous, he must be encouraged and com- 
 mended for whatever he does well. 
 
 If a child seems inclined to sauntering and idleness, 
 emulation is the proper cure to be administered. If he 
 sees others of his equals honoured and caressed for using 
 a little diligence, he must be of a temper uncommonly 
 insensible, and of a spirit uncommonly abject, if he is not 
 moved to emulate their improvements. 
 
 Lying abed in a morning, or passing, at any time, a 
 whole day, without doing somewhat, towards his improve- 
 ment, if in health, ought by no means to be allowed in a 
 child who is come to the age of learning to spell. And if 
 he is from his infancy, accustomed to hear schools and 
 places of education spoke of as scenes of happiness ; and 
 has books (not sweetmeats, plaj'things, or fine clothes,) 
 given him as the most valuable presents and the richest re- 
 wards, he can hardly fail to be moved to exert himself. 
 But all this is directly contrary to the common practice of 
 threatening a child with school whenever he does amiss ; 
 of setting him a task as a punishment, and of sending for 
 him from school, from time to time, as a gratification. 
 
 A tendency to prodigality, in a child, is to be curbed as 
 early as possible. For he who will in his youth lavish 
 away half-pence, when he comes to manhood, will be apt 
 to squander away guineas. The best methods I know 
 for correcting this bias in a child, are such as these : En- 
 couraging him to save a piece of money some little time, 
 on the promise of doubling it, and, which is to the same 
 purpose, lessening his allowance (but not by any means 
 depriving him wholly of pocket money) in case of mis- 
 conduct : obliging him to give an exact account of his 
 manner of laying out his money, by memory at first, and 
 afterwards in a written account, regularly kept ; putting in 
 a purse by itself a penny, or sixpence, for every penny or 
 
OP PRUDENCE. ST 
 
 sixpence given him, and showing him, from time to time, 
 the sum ; and so forth. 
 
 There is no error more fatal, than imagining, that 
 pinching a youth in his pocket money, will teach him fru- 
 gality. On the contrary, it will only occasion his running 
 into extravagance with so much the more eagerness, 
 whenever he comes to have money in his own hands ; as 
 pinching him in his diet will make his appetite only the 
 more rapacious. In the same manner, confining him too 
 much from diversions and company, will heighten his de- 
 sire after them : And overloading and fatiguing him with 
 study, or with religious exercises, will disgust him against 
 learning and devotion. For human nature is like a stream 
 of water, which, if too much opposed in its course, will 
 swell, and at length overflow ail bounds ; but, carefully 
 kept within its banks, will enrich and beautify the places 
 it visits in its course. 
 
 If you put into the hands of your child, more money 
 than is suitable to his age and discretion, expect to find 
 that he has thrown it away upon what is not only idle, but 
 hurtful. A certain small regular income any child above 
 six years of age ought to have, but I should think no ex- 
 traordinary advance proper upon any account. When 
 he comes to be capable of keeping an account, he ought 
 to be obliged to it. He will thereby acquire a habit of 
 frugality, attention, and prudence, that will be of service 
 to him through his whole life. On the contrary, giving 
 a young person money to spend at will, without requiring 
 any account of it, is leading, or rather forcing him upon 
 extravagance and folly- 
 
 As a turn to covetousness and hoarding, it is in a child 
 a frightful temper, indicating a natural inclination to sor- 
 did selfishness. This being a disposition which strength- 
 ens with years, and holds to the last, when it begins to ap- 
 peal" so early, it is to be expected it will come to an ex- 
 cessive degree in time. A lad ought to be broke of this 
 unhappy turn, by showing him the odiousness of it in the 
 judgment of all openhearted people, and by exposing his 
 churlishness to the ridicule of his equals. Children 
 ought to be accustomed from their earliest years, to bring 
 themselves with ease to quit what they may have a right 
 to ; to give away part of their fruits or sweetmeats, and 
 
88 OF PRUDENXE. 
 
 to bestow, out of their pocket money, for the relief of 
 the poor. 
 
 A natural perverseness and obstinacy in the temper of a 
 child, it is hardly possible to break, after seven or eight 
 years of age, till reason and experience do it, which may 
 never happen. And even before that early period, it is not, 
 in some, to be conquered but by severe means ; though 
 severity may be used without violence, as by confinement 
 and dieting. When a parent finds himself obliged to come 
 to extremities, the mildest way of proceeding, is to re- 
 solve to go through with it at once. It is likewise a more 
 effectual method, to punish once with some severity, than 
 a great many times in a superficial manner. For when 
 once a child, of sturdy spirit and constitution, becomes ac- 
 customed to punishment, he grows hardened against it, 
 till at length it loses its effects, and becomes no punish- 
 ment. I need not add, that correction, when things come 
 to the extremity which renderj it absolutely necessary, 
 ought always to be administered with coolness and delibe- 
 ration, and not without visible reluctance, that the child 
 may plainly see it is not passion in the parent, but a regard 
 to his good, and absolute necessity that brings it upon him. 
 And as nothing but a visible pravity of mind is sufficient 
 to make so rough a remedy necessary, so, whenever the 
 perverseness, or wickedness of disposition which occa- 
 sioned it, seems perfectly conquered, it ought by all means 
 to be given over, and a quite contrary behaviour to be as- 
 sumed by the parent. For the danger of hardening the 
 temper of a child, by making him too familiar with punish- 
 ment, is almost as bad as any fault intended to be corrected 
 by it. Confinement, dieting, restraint from the amuse- 
 ments allowed to others, his equals, the loss of his father's 
 or mother's favour, and, above all, disgrace, are much the 
 most ingenuous punishments to be inflicted on young 
 gentlemen. 
 
 When it is found necessary to inflict disgrace, the ut- 
 most care ought to be taken, that the whole family appear 
 to be of a mind. If the father chides, and the mother or 
 anv oilier person encourages, what effect can be expected 
 to be worked upon the mind of the child ? On the other 
 hand, when he meets with coldness and discoufragem'errt 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 89 
 
 from every body, he will find himself under a necessity 
 of amending his manners in his own defence. 
 
 To make the young mind the more susceptible of a 
 sense of shame, and to inspire it with sentim ents of true 
 honour ; youth should be very early taught to entertain 
 worthy thoughts of the Dignity of Human Nature, and 
 the reverence we owe ourselves, so that they may be made 
 to stand in so much awe of themselves as not to do a mean 
 action, though never to be known to any creature. 
 
 All methods of education ought in general to be direct- 
 ed to the improvement of some good tendency, or the cor- 
 rection of some wrong turn in the mind. And that parent, 
 or tutor, who thinks of forming a rational creature, as he 
 would break a hound or a colt, by severity alone, without 
 endeavouring to rectify the judgment and bend the will, 
 shows himself wholly ignorant of human nature, and of the 
 work he has undertaken. From the time a child can speak, 
 it is capable of being reasoned with, in a way suitable to its 
 age, and of being convinced of the good or evil of its actions, 
 and is never to be corrected without ; otherwise you may 
 conclude, that the effect will cease with the smart. A 
 sense of honour and shame, and of the right and wrong of 
 actions, are the proper handles of education, as they lead 
 directly to virtue, and lay a restraint upon the mind itself. 
 Punishment, if not managed with great judgment, and 
 administered rather as a mark and attendant of that disgrace, 
 into which a youth has brought himself by bad behaviour, 
 may have no other effect, than that of persuading him, 
 that the pain is a great evil, which he ought not to think, 
 but be taught to despise it. Or it may tend, if overdone, 
 to harden and brutalize his temper, and lead him to use 
 others as he has been used. Paltry rewards, as fine clothes 
 or playthings, ought likewise never to be bestowed with- 
 out a caution, that they are given not as things valua- 
 ble in themselves, but only as marks of favour and appro- 
 bation. If this be not taken care of, n child may be led to 
 look upon such baubles as the summum bonum of life, 
 which will give him a quite wrong turn of mind. 
 
 In chiding or correcting, it will be necessary to take 
 the utmost care not to represent to a young person his 
 fault as unpardonable or his case as desperate ; but to 
 leave room for reformation ; lest he think he has utterly 
 
 M 
 
90 OF PRUDENCfc. 
 
 lost his character and so become stupidly indifferent about 
 recovering your favour, or amending his manners. Nor 
 is the recovery of any person under thirty years of age to 
 be wholly despaired of, where there is a fund of sense, and 
 an ingenuous temper to work upon. 
 
 A turn to cruelty appearing in a child's delighting in 
 teazing his equals, in pulling insects to pieces, and in tor- 
 turing birds, frogs, cats, or other animals, ought by all 
 means to be rooted out as soon as possible. Children 
 ought to be convinced of what they are not generally 
 aware of, that an animal can feel, though it cannot com- 
 plain, and that cruelty to a beast or insect, is as much cru- 
 elty, and as truly wicked, as when exercised upon our 
 own species. 
 
 There are few children that may not be formed to tract - 
 ableness and goodness, where a parent has the conscience 
 to study carefully his duty in this respect, the steadiness 
 to go through with it, and the sagacity to manage pro- 
 perly the natural tendencies of the mind, to play them 
 against one another, to supply what may be defective, to 
 correct what may be wrong, and to lop off what may be 
 redundant. 
 
 Let only a parent consider with himself what temper 
 he would have his son be of, when a man ; and let him 
 cultivate that in him, while a child. If he would not have 
 him fierce, cruel, or revengeful, let him take care early to 
 show his displeasure at every instance of surliness, or 
 malice, against his playfellows, or cruelty to brutes or 
 insects. If he would not wish him to prove of a fretful 
 and peevish temper, ready to lose all patience at every lit- 
 tle disappointment in life, let him take care from the first, 
 not to humour him in all his childish freaks, not to show 
 him that he can refuse him nothing, nor especially to give 
 him what he asks, because he cries or is out of humour for 
 it, but for that very reason to withhold what might other- 
 wise be fit for him. If he would not have him a glutton, 
 when he comes to be a man, let him not consult his apt- 
 petite too much in his childhood ; and so of the rest. 
 
 It is a most fatal mistake, which many parents are in 
 with respect to the important business of forming the 
 moral character of 1 heir children, that the faults of chil- 
 dren are of little consequence. Yet it is the very same 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 91 
 
 disposition, which makes a child, or youth, passionate, 
 false, or revengeful, and which in the man, produces mur- 
 der, perjury, and all the most atrocious crimes. The 
 very same turn of mind which puts a child, or youth, 
 upon beating his playfellows with his little harmless hand, 
 will afterwards, if not corrected, arm him with a sword to 
 execute his revenge. How then can parents be so un- 
 thinking as to connive at, much more to encourage, a 
 wrong turn of mind in their children "? At the same time 
 that they would do their utmost to rectify any blemish in 
 a feature or limb, as knowing that it will else be quickly 
 incurable ; they allow the mind to run into vice and dis- 
 order, which they know may be soon irretrievable. 
 
 If your child threatened to grow crooked, or deformed ; 
 if he were dwarfish and stunted ; if he were weak in one 
 or more of his limbs ; or did not look with both eyes 
 alike ; would you not give any thing in the world to have 
 such infirmity strengthened, or wrong cast of features re- 
 dressed ! Would you put off endeavouring this for one 
 day, after you had discovered the defect? And will you 
 trifle with a deformity of infinitely greater consequence, a 
 blemish in the mind ? Would you answer to any one, who 
 advised you a remedy for weak hams, or an arm threaten- 
 ing to wither ; that, as your child grew up, they would 
 strengthen of themselves, and therefore it was needless to 
 take any trouble at present ? Why then should you put 
 off using your utmost endeavours, and that as soon as 
 possible, for breaking the impotency of his passions, bet- 
 tering his temper, and strengthening his judgment ? Will 
 you say, that, though your child is now at six years old, 
 fretful, perverse, crafty, given to idleness, lying, and dis- 
 obedience ; it does not follow, that he must be so at 
 twenty or thirty ? Why do you not likewise persuade 
 yourself, that he must outgrow squinting, or a high 
 shoulder ? You cannot think a short neck, or a wrong 
 cast of the eye, a worse blemish than a turn to falsehood, 
 malice, or revenge ? Yet you encourage your son, at three 
 years of age, to vent his spite upon whatever disobliges 
 him, even upon the floor, when he catches a fall. He asks 
 you what you have got in your hand : you do not choose 
 to let him have it ; and you have not the courage to tell 
 him so. You therefore put him off with answering, that 
 
§2 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 it was nothing. By and by, he has laid hold of some- 
 what not fit for him, which he endeavours to conceal. 
 You ask him what he has got : Has he not your own 
 example and authority for putting you off with a shuffling 
 answer ? He asks somewhat not fit for him. You refuse 
 it ; he- falls a crying : you give it him. Is there any 
 surer way of teaclung him to make use, constantly, of the 
 same means for obtaining whatever his wayward will is 
 set upon ? You trick him up with tawdry ornaments, 
 and dandle him about after all manner of entertainments, 
 while he ought to be applying to his improvement in 
 somewhat useful. Is not this teaching him, that finery 
 and gadding are the perfection of life ? Is not this planting 
 in his mind, with your own hand, the seeds of vice and 
 folly ? Yet you would turn away a nursery maid, who 
 should, for her diversion, teach him to squint, or stam- 
 mer, or go awry. 
 
 It is strange, that parents should either be so weak, as 
 to look upon any fault in the minds of their children as of 
 little consequence, and not worth correcting ; or that they 
 should not generally have the sagacity to distinguish be- 
 tween those infirmities, which, being the effects of unripe 
 age, must of course cure themselves, and those, which, 
 being occasioned by a wrong cast in the mind, are likely 
 to grow stronger and stronger. Thoughtlessness, timi- 
 dity, and love of play, which are natural to childhood, 
 may be expected to abate as years come on. But it is 
 evidently not so with a turn to deceit, malice, or per- 
 verseness. 
 
 I cannot help adding here, one advice to parents, which, 
 if it should not be thought over complaisant, is however 
 Avell meant. It is, that they would take care to set before: 
 their children an unexceptionable example. The conse- 
 quence of a neglect of this, will be, that children will be 
 drawn to imitate what is bad, and be prevented from re- 
 garding what good advice may be given them. Do not 
 imagine you can effectually inculcate upon your son the 
 virtues of sobriety and frugality, while he sees your house 
 and your table the scenes of luxury and gluttony ; or that 
 your affected grave lessons will attach him to purity and 
 piety, while your conversation is interlarded with swear- 
 ing and obscenity ; or that you can persuade him to think 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 93 
 
 of the care of his soul as the great concern, while he sees 
 that you live only to get money. 
 
 Those natural inclinations of the human mind ought to 
 be encouraged to the utmost (under proper regulations) 
 which tend to put it upon action and excelling. Whoever 
 would wish his son to be diligent in his studies, and active 
 in business, can use no better means for that purpose, than 
 stirring up in him emulation, a desire of praise, and a 
 sense of honour and shame. Curiosity will put a youth 
 upon inquiring into the nature and reasons of things, and 
 endeavouring to acquire universal knowledge. This pas- 
 sion ought therefore to be excited to the utmost, and gra- 
 tified, even when it shows itself by his asking the most 
 childish questions, which should always be answered in as 
 rational and satisfying a manner as possible. 
 
 It is by habit rather than precept, that a young person is 
 best formed to readiness and address in doing things. If 
 your son hands a glass or a tea cup awkwardly, he will 
 profit more by making him do it over again, directing him 
 how, than by preaching to him an hour. It is the same in 
 scholarship, and in his behaviour to his equals, as to justice 
 and sincerity ; which shows the advantage of a social, 
 above a solitary education. Therefore, opportunities of 
 planting proper habits in young people ought to be sought, 
 and they kept doirig, merely that by practice they may 
 come to do things well at last. 
 
 On this head, I cannot help remarking on the unhappy 
 constraint I have often, with much sympathy, seen very 
 young children put under before company. The chiding 
 lectures I have heard read to boys and girls of eight or 
 ten years of age, about holding up of heads, putting back 
 shoulders, turning out toes, and making legs, have, I am 
 persuaded, gone a good way toward disgusting the poor 
 children against what is called behaviour. Did parents 
 consider, that, even in grown people, the gracefulness of 
 behaviour consists in an easy and natural motion of 
 gesture, and looks denoting kindness and good-will to 
 those with whom they converse ; and that if a child's 
 heart and temper are formed to civility, the outward ex- 
 pressions of it will come in all due time ; did parents, I 
 say, consider these obvious things, they would bestow 
 their chief attention upon the mind, and not make them- 
 
94 OF .PRUDENCE. 
 
 selves, their children, and their friends, uneasy about 
 making courtesies, and legs, twenty times in a quarter of 
 an hour. 
 
 The bodily infirmities of children mav often, by proper 
 management, be greatly helped, if not wholly cured. 
 Crookedness, for example, by swinging and hanging by 
 tfee arm next to the crooked side. Squinting, by specta- 
 cles properly contrived, and by shooting with the bow. 
 A paralytic motion in the eyes by the cold bath and ner- 
 vous remedies. Weakness in the eyes, by washing them 
 in cold water; and not sparing them "too much. Bashful- 
 ness and blushing, by company and encouragement. 
 Crookedness in the legs, by being swung with moderate 
 weights fastened to the feet, and using riding, as an exer- 
 cise, more frequently than walking ; never standing for any 
 time together; and by iron strengtheners properly ap- 
 plied. Shooting with the long bow, is good for strength- 
 ening the chest and arms. Exercise, and regular hours 
 of diet and rest, and simple food, for the appetite. Riding, 
 especially on a hard trotting horse, is the first of exercises, 
 and a cure for complaints, which no medicine in the dis- 
 pensatory will reach. Stammering is cured by people 
 who profess that art. And even dumbness so far got the 
 better of, that persons born so are brought to be capable of 
 holding a sort of conversation with those who are used to 
 them. Shortness of the neck, and stuntedness, are helped 
 by being swung in a neck- swing. Almost any bad habit, 
 as shrugging the shoulders, nodding, making faces, and the 
 like, may be helped by continual attention, and making 
 the child do somewhat laborious, or disagreeable to him, 
 every time you catch him at his trick. 
 
 Of those parts of education, which take in science, I 
 shall have occasion to treat in the following book. 
 
 SECTION VIII. 
 Of the peculiar Management of Daughters. 
 
 FEMALE children being as much by nature rational 
 creatures, as males, it seems pretty obvious, that, in bring- 
 ing them up to maturity, there is some regard to be had 
 to the cultivation of their reason, as well as the adorning 
 
OF PRUDENCE, 95 
 
 of their persons. As to the forming of their tempers, the 
 directions above given, will, with some small variation, suit 
 them. As girls are more apt to run into vanity, on ac- 
 count of their beauty or dress, than the other sex, it will 
 be necessary to guard against this folly, which, eise, will 
 grow with years, till it becomes unsufferable. And icfter 
 all, there is no doubt, but a foolish head is always con- 
 temptible, whether it be covered with a cap or a wig. 
 And a creature, that values itself only upon its form, and 
 has no other ambition but to make that agreeable, must be 
 sunk to a very low pitch of understanding, and has little 
 pretence to rank itself with rational beings. 
 
 The proper education of a daughter, if a parent has a 
 mind she should ever be fit for filling a place in society, 
 and being a suitable companion and help meet for a man 
 of sense, is, first, reading, with propriety and life ; readi- 
 ness at her needle, especially for people in middling sta- 
 tions ; a free command of her pen, and complete know- 
 ledge of numbers, as far as the rule called Practice. A 
 woman cannot, with ease and certainty, keep or examine 
 the accounts of her own family, without these accomplish- 
 ments. The knowledge of English grammar, or ortho- 
 graphy, is absolutely necessary to any person who would 
 write to be read. Without some acquaintance with geo- 
 graphy and history, a woman's conversation must be con- 
 fined within a very narrow compass, and she will enjoy 
 much less pleasure in that of her husband and his friends ; 
 and his entertainment from her conversation must likewise 
 be very much abridged, if she can bear no part on any but 
 the subjects of fashions or scandal. 
 
 Plays, romances, love verses, and cards, are utter ruin 
 to y oung women. For, if they find any entertainment in 
 them, they must unavoidably give their minds a cast, 
 which can never be suitable to the useful part of a female 
 character, which is wholly domestic. For, whatever the 
 fine ladies of our age must think of the matter, it is cer- 
 tain that the only rational ambition they can have, must be 
 to make obedient daughters, loving wives, prudent mo- 
 thers and mistresses of families, faithful friends, and good 
 christians ; characters much more valuable than those of 
 skilful gamesters, fine dancers, singers, or dressers, or than 
 even of wits and critics. 
 
96 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 SECTION IX. 
 
 Of Placing Youth out Apprentices. 
 
 THERE are some grievances with respect to the ap- 
 prenticing out of youth intended for business, which I 
 have long wished to see redressed. As, in the first place, 
 it does not appear to me necessary, that parents should 
 hurry their sons away from places of education, before 
 they can, by their age, be supposed to be sufficiently 
 grounded in the various parts of useful and ornamental 
 knowledge, or (which is of infinitely more consequence) 
 principled in virtue and religion, to place them out ap- 
 prentices seven years, to learn to sell a piece of linen, or a 
 loaf of sugar, where there is an end of all opportunity of 
 improvement, except in business. While a youth is at 
 boarding school, he lives with one, who is to be supposed 
 qualified to instruct him, and conduct his morals, and who 
 is evidently interested to bestow his best diligence for 
 those purposes. Whereas, a merchant, or tradesman, 
 who does not depend upon apprentices, as a master of a 
 place of education does upon pupils, and is besides im- 
 mersed in a variety of business, cannot be supposed to 
 have it in his power or inclination to give much attention 
 to the conduct of his apprentices. On these considera- 
 tions, I say, it seems unreasonable, and prejudicial to 
 youth, to be removed, as they often are, from boarding 
 school at fourteen or fifteen years, when they are just come 
 to be capable of the more manly and useful parts of know- 
 ledge, as, geography, mathematics, philosophy, moral and 
 tfiatural, and the like ; and to be thrust down into a mer- 
 chant's or tradesman's kitchen among menial servants, or 
 let loose among a set of thoughtless young fellows like 
 themselves, but half principled, and therefore too liable to 
 be led astray by every seducer. I cannot see the neces- 
 sity of a youth's being placed out for seven years to learn 
 the mystery of buying in, and selling out, half a dozen dif- 
 ferent kinds of goods ; at the same time, that to learn all 
 the intricacies of the business of an attorney, five years 
 clerkship is reckoned sufficient. 
 
 Having mentioned the common manner of entertaining 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 97 
 
 apprentices, I beg leave to add, that though I see no ad- 
 vantage in treating young people with too much delicacy, 
 vet it seems absurd to place the sons of merchants and 
 substantial tradesmen with chamber maids and footmen. 
 This I know is done, where three or four hundred pounds 
 apprenticeship is given. If a gentleman thinks it a re- 
 straint upon his conversation, to have his apprentices at 
 his own table, it would be no great matter, methinks, for 
 the fathers of the youth to allow somewhat extraordinary 
 for a separate room and proper accommodations, to pre- 
 vent their keeping company with people beneath them, 
 from whom they are likely to learn nothing but what is 
 mean and sordid. 
 
 The modern way of life of our citizens, is indeed such, 
 as, generally speaking, to expose the youth placed with 
 them almost to the certainty of being debauched, if not 
 utterly ruined. The master and mistress of the house 
 engaged in the evenings in visiting, receiving visits, at- 
 tending clubs, or public diversions, or in short, any way 
 but minding their own families. And in the summer sea- 
 son, out of town on Saturdays and Sundays ; some half 
 the week ; while their apprentices are left to themselves, 
 exposed to the solicitations of the lewd women, who are 
 allowed, to the shame of law and magistracy, to invest 
 every street in London, and to turn the city into a great 
 brothel. The sense of the fatal hazards the youth run 
 during their apprenticeships in London, has determined 
 many judicious parents of late years, to send their sons to 
 pass them in foreign parts, where the way of life of the 
 trading people is different from what prevails here. 
 
 SECTION X. 
 
 Of choosing Employments for Sons, and of providing 
 Fortunes for them. 
 
 IN order to a person's having a chance for success and 
 happiness in life, it is necessary that his parents consult 
 the natural bent of his genius, before they determine what 
 employment to put him to.; The neglect of this most 
 important particular has been the cause of infinite distress 
 and disappointment, and has obliged manv, after a course 
 
 N 
 
98 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 of misfortunes and vexations, in a way of life for which 
 they have not been fitted by nature, to lay aside their first 
 scheme and enter upon that for which nature has intended 
 them. It is common for parents to resolve to give their 
 children such employments as suit their own humour or 
 convenience, rather than the capacity or natural bent of 
 the voung persons, who are the most concerned in the 
 matter ; to bring up a plain honest youth to law or physic, 
 or thrust a heavy, plodding boy into a pulpit ; to hamper 
 a genius behind a counter, or bury him among bales of 
 goods in a warehouse, j But surely no parent of any con- 
 sideration can hope to get the better of nature, to give his 
 child qualifications which she has not given him, or to re- 
 move the insuperable difficulties she has laid in the way. 
 
 The tempers of youth however, may, in general, be said 
 to divide themselves into two species. One is the inquisi- 
 tive, penetrating, and studious ; the other, the slow and 
 laborious; both valuable in their respective ways. There 
 are of these, several subdivisions, I mean those who have a 
 particular turn to some single art or science. All which 
 ought to be studied, with the utmost care by the parent, 
 and humoured in the scheme of life intended for them. 
 Had I a son, whose natural turn was to mechanics, I 
 should certainly rather put him apprentice to a watchma- 
 ker, or a silversmith, in which I should think he could 
 not fail to become eminent, and consequently to get a sub- 
 sistence, if he applied diligently to his business, than 
 bring him up to a learned profession, in which I could 
 not expect him to make any figure. And so of other par- 
 ticular turns. 
 
 If the genius of a youth is bright, it will discover itself 
 by its own native lustre ; so that a parent will be at no 
 loss to determine his son's particular cast. If his capacity 
 is slow, it will perhaps be necessary to try him with a 
 variety of employments and exercises ; and as it is found 
 that almost every rational creature lias a turn for some- 
 what, and is by nature fitted for some place or other in 
 society, a little time and attention will discover what a pa- 
 rent searches for. 
 
 Whatever the pride of parents may suggest, it is plain 
 from observation, that great vivacity and brightness of 
 pans in our sex, as well as extraordinary beauty or wit in 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 99 
 
 the other, do in fact often prove fatal to both ; as they na- 
 turally tend to fill the heads of those who are possessed of 
 them," with vanity and ambition, and to. put them upon 
 romantic projects, which take off their attention from the 
 serious business of life. Not but that men of the finest 
 parts are sometimes found as steady and prudent in the 
 management of their affairs, as the dull and plodding ; some 
 of which, likewise, are found to grovel all their lives long 
 in poverty and obscurity. But, generally speaking, it is 
 otherwise. So that a parent, who has reason to look upon 
 his son, as one who promises to make a figure by his 
 parts, ought to be humble and cautious ; for when such 
 fly out, they go dreadful lengths in vice or folly ; as, on 
 the other hand, if a parent's prospects, with regard to his 
 son's natural abilities, be less pleasing, he is not there fore 
 to despair of making him fit for some useful and vale able 
 station in life. 
 
 1 It is a very great mistake some parents run into, that 
 the greatest kindness they can do their children is to give 
 them, or leave them a great fortune. With this view 
 some labour and toil all their lives, pinching themselves, 
 and their families, and grudging their children an educa- 
 tion suitable to their fortunes, only to heap up an enor- 
 mous capital, which is likely to be dissipated in much less 
 time than it cost to amass it. ) 
 
 If a young gentleman is to inherit a large estate, with- 
 out a suitable education, his great fortune will only make 
 him the more extensively known and despised. And, if 
 his prospects in life be meaner, he will have the more oc- 
 casion for an universal education to give him a chance for 
 raising himself in the world. Experience shows that it is 
 not, in fact, those who have set out in life with large capi- 
 tals, that live happiest, and hold out longest in credit. One 
 half of such traders, on the strength of their large fortunes 
 and extensive credit, run into the fatal error of over trad- 
 ing, and the other into expensive living. Whereas, a 
 young man, who has been prudently educated, and pro- 
 vided, by his parents, with a fortune sufficient for setting 
 him on foot in business, knowing that he has no superflu- 
 ous wealth to trust to, and consequently, that he must by 
 frugality, industry and prudence, think to raise himself, 
 tt'ill be likely to apply with steadiness and diligence, to his 
 
100 OF PRUDKNC& 
 
 business ; of which he will, in the end, reap the fruits. And 
 if it should happen, in spite of his utmost care and pru- 
 dence, that he should come to misfortunes, which I be- 
 lieve, no parent will pretend to insure his son against, a 
 well accomplished man is not likely ever to be long desti- 
 tute of a subsistence. Upon the whole, it is the greatest 
 weakness a man of substance can fall into, to cramp his 
 soil's education for the sake of adding a few hundred 
 pounds to his fortune. For it is not a few hundred pounds 
 that will support him, when the bulk of his fortune is 
 gone : but an useful education will enable him to get a 
 subsistence, when the whole of his paternal fortune is 
 jrone. 
 
 SECTION XI. 
 Of settling Children, of both Sexes, in life. 
 
 WHEN a parent has in this manner equipped out his 
 son with a proper education, and settled him in a way of 
 living, if he has a fair opportunity, it will be his wisdom 
 to see him, in his own lifetime, likewise settled in mar- 
 riage. It is on all accounts the safest and best state. And 
 a man is always less likely to break loose from virtue af- 
 ter he has entered into a settled way of life, than before. 
 
 What I have said of a son, may be urged with still 
 more reason with respect to a daughter. It may often be 
 much more prudent to give away a daughter in marriage 
 on an indifferent offer, I mean as to circumstances of 
 wealth, than to let slip an opportunity of seeing her placed 
 out of harm's way. But no consideration will make up 
 for the unhappiness she will be doomed to, if she falls into 
 the hands of a morose, a furious, a drunken, a debauched, 
 a spendthrift, or a jealous husband. If a man may be 
 said to have shaken hands with happiness, who has thrown 
 himself into the arms of a bad woman, much less reason 
 has a weak, helpless woman to expect ever to see a happy 
 day, after she comes into the power of a man void of vir- 
 tue or humanity. Let those parents, therefore, who con- 
 strain their children, for the sake of sordid views, to 
 plunge themselves into irretrievable misery, consider what 
 they have to answer for, in doing an injury, which they 
 
OP PRUDENXE. 101 
 
 never can repair, to those whose real happiness they were, 
 by all the tics of nature and reason, bound to promote. 
 
 It is to be hoped what is here said of the danger of con- 
 straining the inclinations of children in marriage, will by 
 no means be construed, as if intended to encourage young 
 people to obstinacy and contempt of the advice of parents 
 in making a choice for life. 
 
 SECTION XII. 
 Of retiring from Business. 
 
 AS on the one hand, it is odious for a man of an over- 
 grown fortune to go on in business to a great age, still 
 striving to increase a heap already larger than is necessa- 
 ry, to the prejudice of younger people, who ought to have 
 a clear stage, and opportunity of making their way in life ; 
 so it is vain for a person, who has spent his days in an ac- 
 tive sphere, to think of enjoying retirement, before the 
 time of retirement be come. He who resolves at once to 
 change his way of life, from action to retirement, or from 
 one state to another directly contrary, without being pre- 
 pared for it by proper age and habit, for some continuance 
 of time, will find, that he will no sooner have quitted his 
 former way of life, than he will desire to be in it again. 
 
 It is on this, as well as other accounts, of great advan- 
 tage, that a man have acquired some turn to reading, and 
 the more sober entertainments of life, in his earlier days. 
 There is not a much more deplorable sort of existence, than 
 that which is dragged on by an old man, whose mind is 
 unfurnished with the materials proper for yielding him 
 some entertainment suitable to the more sedate time of 
 life ; I mean useful knowledge. For the remembrance 
 of fifty years spent in scraping of money, or in pursuing 
 pleasure, or in indulging vicious inclinations, must yield 
 but poor entertainment at a time of life, when a man can 
 at best say, he has been. 
 
102 OF PRUDENXE. 
 
 SECTION XIII. 
 Of disposing of Effects by Will. 
 
 IT is a strange weakness in some people, to be averse 
 to making their wills, and disposing of their effects, while 
 they are in good health, and have ease of mind, and a sound 
 judgment to do it in a proper manner; as if a man must 
 certainly die soon after he has made his will. It is highly 
 proper that people, who have any thing considerable to 
 leave, should settle their affairs in such a distinct manner, 
 that their intentions may appear plain and indisputable, 
 and their heirs may not have an endless and vexatious 
 lawsuit, instead of a fortune. 
 
 For this purpose I would advise, that a gentleman, at 
 his leisure, draw up a sketch of his will, leaving the names 
 of the legatees, and the sums, blank, if he chooses to con- 
 ceal either the state of his affairs, or the persons he intends 
 to benefit at his death. This draught he may have exa- 
 mined by those who are judges of such matters ; so that 
 he may be quite easy as to the condition he leaves his wife 
 and children, or other relations in. 
 
 The calamity in which a widow and orphans are involv- 
 ed, who, through some quirk of law, or the omission of 
 some necessary formality, find themselves disappointed of 
 their whole dependence, and have the mortification to see 
 an heir at law (to the shame of law) seize on what the de- 
 ceased intended for their support ; the circumstances, I 
 say, of a family thus plunged into want and misery, from 
 the fairest expectations, are to the last degree deplorable. 
 
 A man ought to consider that it is a tender point for an 
 affectionate wife to touch upon, and ought to spare her the 
 trouble of soliciting him upon this head. For it must be 
 no easy state of mind a woman must be in, who considers 
 that she and her children depend, for their daily bread, up- 
 on the slender thread of the life of an husband, who at the 
 same time has it in his power to secure her effectually, by 
 -taking only a very little trouble. 
 
 It is an unjust and absurd practice of many, in disposing 
 of their effects by will, to show such excessive partiality 
 to some of their children beyond others. To leave to an 
 eldest son the whole estate, and to each of the other chil- 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 10£ 
 
 dren, perhaps one year's rent. The consequence, indeed, 
 of this is often, that the heir, finding himself in possession 
 of an estate, concludes he shall never be able to run it out; 
 and may be got, through extravagance, just within sight 
 of want, by the time his industrious brothers, who, having 
 no such funds to trust to, were obliged to exert themselves, 
 have got estates, or are in a fair way toward them. This, 
 1 say, is a common consequence of the unequal distribu- 
 tion of estates. But, whatever the consequence be, it 
 seems pretty evident, that to treat so very differently, those 
 who are alike our offspring, cannot be strictly just. 
 
 It proves often a fatal error in the disposal of effects for 
 the benefit of one's family, to leave them in the hands of 
 any private person whatever, especially of one who has con- 
 cerns in trade. The state of such a one's affairs, must, 
 by the very course of trade, be so liable to change, that no 
 money can be absolutely safe which he can lay his hands 
 upon. We see every day instances of the failure of tra- 
 ders, who have generally passed for men of first rate for- 
 tunes, and often see young families ruined by their ruin. 
 If it be plain that the public funds are, at least, a more 
 probable security than any private, one would think it na- 
 tural to fix upon the best, since even the best is not too 
 secure. 
 
 SECTION XIV. 
 
 Of Old Age. 
 
 WHEN people draw towards old age, the infirmities 
 of nature, joined with the various ills of life, become more 
 and more grievous ; and strength of mind continually de- 
 caying, the burden becomes at last hardly supportable. 
 To wave, for the present, all moral or religious consider- 
 ations, I will only observe, that, if one would, in any 
 period of life, or under any distress whatever, desire to 
 have his grievances as tolerable as possible, there is no 
 surer means for that end, than to endeavour to preserve an 
 equal, composed, and resigned temper of mind. To 
 struggle, and fret, and rage at every misfortune or hard- 
 ship, is tearing open the wound, and making it fester. 
 Composing the mind to contentment and patience is the 
 
104 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 most likely means to heal it up. It is, therefore, obvious 
 what conduct prudence directs to in the case of distress or 
 hardship. 
 
 But in what light docs this show the prudence of many 
 people? Do we not see, that they who have no consider- 
 able real distresses in life to struggle with, take care to 
 make themselves miserable, by mustering up imaginary, 
 or heightening inconsiderable misfortunes? Does not a 
 courtier, in the midst of afiluence, and with independence 
 in his power, make himself as unhappy about a cold look 
 from the minister, as a poor tradesman is at the loss of 
 his principal customer ? Is not a fine lady as much dis- 
 tressed, if her lap-dog has a fit of the cholic, as a poor 
 woman about the sickness of a child ? Such imaginary 
 unfortunates complain heavily of the afflictions of life, 
 while neither labours under any worth mentioning but 
 what are of their own making. 
 
 When people have all their lives allowed themselves to 
 give way to foolish discontent and uneasiness, it is no 
 wonder, if when they come to old age, they find them- 
 selves unhappy, and by their peevishness make all about 
 them unhappy, and put it in their hearts to wish them well 
 out of the world. 
 
 The art of growing old with a good grace is none of 
 the least considerable in life. In order to this, it is abso- 
 lutely necessary, that a man have spent the former part of 
 his days in a manner consistent with reason and religion. 
 He who has passed his life wholly in secular pursuits, in 
 grasping at riches, in aspiring after preferments, in amus- 
 ing himself in show and ostentation, in wallowing in sensu- 
 ality and voluptuousness, what foundation has he laid for 
 passing old age with dignity ? What is more universal ly 
 despised than an old man, whose mind, unstored with 
 knowledge, and unaffected with a sense of goodness, still 
 grovels after the objects of sense, still hankers after the 
 scenes which formerly engaged him ; scenes of vanity and 
 folly in any age, but in the graver part of life, unnatural 
 and monstrous? Yet there is nothing more certain (for 
 universal experience confirms it) than that, according as a 
 person lias formed his mind in the younger part of life, 
 such it will be to the last. The ruling passion seldom 
 fails, till all fails, He who has made the bottle his chief 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 105 
 
 delight, will drink on even when he has hardly breath to 
 swallow a glass of wine. The impure letcher will creep 
 after his mistress, when his knees knock together. The 
 miser, who has all his life made riches his god, will be 
 scrambling after the wealth of this world, with one foot in 
 the other. "The vain coquet will show affectation, when she 
 can no longer move any passion but pity. The brainless 
 card-player will waste the last lawful remains of life in an 
 amusement unworthy of the most considerate age. Even 
 when all is over, how do we see many old people in their 
 conversation dwell with pleasure on the vanities, and even 
 the vices of their younger day s ? 
 
 How should it be otherwise than that the mind, which 
 has been for fifty years together constantly bent one way, 
 should preserve to the end, the cast it has received and 
 kept so long ? In the same manner, those who have been 
 so wise, as to view life in its proper light, as a transient 
 'state, to be temperately enjoyed while it lasts ; who have 
 improved their minds with knowledge, and enriched them 
 with virtue and piety ; have qualified themoelveo foi acting 
 the last concluding scene with the same propriety as the 
 rest. To such, their finding themselves unequal to the 
 active or the gaver scenes of life, is no manner of morti- 
 fication. Indifferent to them, while engaged in them, 
 they quit them with indifference ; sure to find in retire, 
 ment a fund of the noblest entertainment from sober and 
 wise conversation, from reading, and from views of that 
 future world, for which the conscience of a well-spent life 
 assures them of their being in a state of preparation. Use- 
 ful by their wise and pious conversation while they live, 
 they go off the stage lamented, leaving behind them the 
 sweet savour of a good name, and the universal approba- 
 tion of the wise and good. 
 
 SECTION XV. 
 
 Of the Dignity of Female Life, prudentially considered. 
 
 WITHOUT the general concurrence of both sexes, in 
 a prudent and virtuous conduct, the perfection of human 
 nature is not to be attained. The influence which the 
 fair sex have, and ought to have in life, is so great, that 
 
 O 
 
106 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 their good behaviour can give a general turn to the face 
 of human affairs ; and a great deal more than is com- 
 monly imagined depends upon their discretion ; since (to 
 say nothing of their influence over our sex, in the charac- 
 ters of mistresses and wives) the minds of the whole species 
 receive their first cast from womankind. 
 
 The dignity of female life, exclusive of what is com- 
 mon to both sexes, consists in an equal mixture of the 
 reserve with benevolence in the virgin state, and affec- 
 tion and submission in that of marriage ; a diligent atten- 
 tion to the forming of the tempers of children of both 
 sexes in their earliest years, (for that lies wholly upon the 
 mother) and the whole education of the daughters : for I 
 know of none so proper for young ladies as a heme edu- 
 cation. 
 
 The greatest errors and dangers to be avoided by ladies, 
 are comprehended in the following paragraphs. 
 
 Vanity in womankind, is, if possible, more absurd than 
 in the other sex. Men have bodily strength, authority, 
 learning, ^d such like pretences, for puffing themselves 
 up with pride : But woman's only peculiar boast is 
 beauty. For virtue and good sense are never the subject* 
 of vanity. 
 
 There is no endowment of less consequence than ele- 
 gance of form and outside. A mass of flesh, blood, hu- 
 mours, and impurities, covered over with a well coloured 
 skin, is the definition of beautv. Whether is this more 
 properly a matter of vanity, or of mortification ? Were it 
 incomparably more excellent than it is, nothing can be 
 more absurd, than to be proud of what one lias had no 
 manner of hand in procuring, but is wholly the gift of 
 heaven. A woman may as reasonably be proud of the 
 lilies of the field, or the tulips of the garden, as of the 
 beauty of her own face. They are both the works of the 
 same hand ; equally out of human power to give, or to 
 preserve ; equally trifling and despicable, when compared 
 with what is substantially excellent ; equally frail and 
 perishing, 
 
 Affectation is a vice capable of disgracing beauty more 
 than pimples, or the small-pox. I have often seen ladies 
 in public places, of the most exquisite forms, render 
 themselves, by fetation and visible conceit, too odious 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 107 
 
 to be looked at without disgust ; who, by a modest and 
 truly female behaviour, might have commanded the ad- 
 miration of every eye. But I shall say the less upon this 
 head, in consideration, that it is, generally speaking, to 
 our sex, that female affectation is to be charged. A wo- 
 man cannot indeed become completely foolish, or vicious, 
 without our assistance. 
 
 Talkativeniss in either sex is generally a proof of vanity 
 and folly, but is in womankind, especially in company 
 with men, and above all, with men of understanding and 
 learning, wholly out of character, and peculiarly disagree- 
 able to people of sense. 
 
 If we appeal either to reason, scripture, or universal 
 consent, we shall find a degree of submission to the male 
 sex, to be an indispensible part of the female character. 
 And to set up for an equality with the sex to which na- 
 ture has given the advantage, and formed for authority and 
 action, is opposing nature, which is never done innocently,, 
 
 The great hazard run by the female sex, and the point 
 in which their prudence or weakness appears most con- 
 spicuous, is in love matters. To a woman's conduct with 
 regard to the other sex, is owing, more than to all other 
 things, the happiness or misery of her existence in this 
 world ; for I am at present only considering things in a 
 prudential light. 
 
 A woman cannot act an imprudent part in listening to 
 the proposal of a lover, whether of the honourable or dis- 
 honourable kind, without bringing nerself to ruin irre- 
 trievable. If she does but seem to hear with patience the 
 wanton seducer, her fame is irrecoverably blasted, and her 
 value for ever sunk. The mere suspicion of guilt, or even 
 of inclination, soils her reputation ; and such is the deli- 
 cacy of virgin purity, that a puff of foul breath stains it ; 
 and all the streams that flow will not restore its former 
 lustre. Nothing therefore can exceed the folly of so 
 much as hearing one sigh of the dishonourable lover : His 
 raptures are only the expressions of his impure desire. 
 His admiration of the beautiful and innocent, is only the 
 effect of eagerness to gratify his filthy passion, by the ruin 
 of beauty and innocence. He pretends to love : But so 
 may the wolf declare his desire to devour the lamb. Both 
 love their prey ; but it is only to destroy. 
 
108 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 Again, with respect to honourable proposals, prudence 
 will suggest to a woman, that the hazard she runs in 
 throwing herself away, is incomparably more desperate 
 than that of the other sex, who have every advantage for 
 bettering, or bearing their afflictions of every kind. The 
 case of the man, who is unhappily married, is calamitous ; 
 but that of the woman, who has a bad husband, is desperate, 
 and incurable, but by death. 
 
 If there be any general rule for ladies to judge of the 
 characters of men, who offer them proposals of marriage, 
 it may be, to find out what figure they make among their 
 sex. It is to be supposed that men are generally quali- 
 fied to judge of one another's merits ; and as our sex are 
 accustomed to less delicacy and reserve than the other, it 
 is not impossible to come at men's real characters, espe- 
 cially with regard to their tempers and dispositions, upon 
 which the happiness of the married life depends, more 
 than upon capacity, learning, or wealth. 
 
 Too great a delight in dress and finery, besides the ex- 
 pense of time and money, which they occasion, in some 
 instances, to a degree beyond all bounds of decency and 
 common sense, tend naturally to sink a woman to the 
 lowest pitch of contempt among all those, of either sex, 
 who have capacity enough to put two thoughts together. 
 A creature who spends its whole time in dressing, gam- 
 ing, prating, and gadding, is a being originally indeed of 
 the rational make ; but, who has sunk itself beneath its 
 rank, and is to be ttmsidered, at present, as nearly on a 
 level with the monkey species. 
 
 SECTION XVI. 
 Miscellaneous Thoughts on Prudence in Action. 
 
 TO pursue worthy ends, by wise means, is the whole 
 of active prudence. And this must be done with reso- 
 lution, diligence, and perseverance, till the point is gained, 
 or appears impracticable. 
 
 To retort an injury, is to be almost as bad as the ag- 
 gressor. When two throw dirt against one another, can 
 either keep himself clean ? 
 
 Action and contemplation are no way inconsistent ; 
 
OF PRUDENXE. 309 
 
 but rather reliefs to one another. When you are engaged 
 in study, throw business out of your thoughts. When in 
 business, think of your business only. 
 
 To a man of business, knowledge is an ornament. To 
 a studious man, action is a relief. 
 
 If vou ever promise at all, take care, at least, that it be 
 so as nobody may suffer by trusting to you. 
 
 If you have debtors, let not your lenity get the better 
 of your prudence ; nor your care of your own interest 
 make vou forget humanity. A prison is not for the un- 
 fortunate, but the knavish. 
 
 Tractableness to advice, and firmness against tempta- 
 tion are no way inconsistent. 
 
 There is more true greatness in generously owning a 
 fault, and making proper reparation for it, than in obsti • 
 nately defending a wrong conduct. But, quiting your 
 purpose, retreat rather like a lion than a cur. 
 
 A mind hardened against affliction, and a body against 
 pain and sickness, are the two securities of earthly hap- 
 piness. 
 
 Let a person find out his own peculiar weakness, and 
 be ever suspicious of himself on that side. Let a passion- 
 ate man, for example, resolve always to show less resent- 
 ment than reason might justify ; there is no danger of his 
 erring on that side. Let a talkative man resolve always to 
 say less than the most talkative person in the company he 
 is in. If one has reason to suspect himself of loving mo- 
 ney too much, let him give always, at least, somewhat 
 more than has been given by a noted miser. 
 
 A man who does not know in general his own weak- 
 ness, must either be a person of high rank, or a fool. 
 
 How comes it that we judge so severely the actions we 
 did a great while ago. It is because we are now at a pro- 
 per distance, and look upon them with an indifferent eve, 
 as on those of another person. The very objects which 
 now employ us so much, and the conduct we now justify 
 so strenuously, can we say, that the time will not come 
 when we shall look upon them as we now do upon our 
 follies of ten or twenty vears backwards ? Whv can we 
 not view ourselves, and our own behaviour, at all times 
 in the same manner ? This shows our partiality for our- 
 selves, in a most absurd light. 
 
110 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 When you are dead, the letters which compose yout 
 name will be no more to you than the rest of the alphabet. 
 Leave the rage of fame to wits and heroes. Do you strive 
 to live usefully in this world, and you will be happy in 
 the next. 
 
 It is best if you can keep quite clear of the great. But 
 if you happen at any time to be thrust into their company, 
 keep up in your behaviour to them the dignity of a man of 
 spirit and worth, which is the only true greatness. If you 
 sneak and cringe, they v. ill trample upon you. 
 
 Beware of mean spirited people. They are commonly 
 revengeful and malicious. 
 
 The following advantages are likely to make a com- 
 pletely accomplished man. 1. Good natural parts. 2. 
 A good temper. 3. Good and general education, begun 
 early. 4. Choice, not immense, reading, and careful di- 
 gesting. 5. Experience of various fortunes. 6. Con- 
 versation with men of letters and of business. 7. Know- 
 ledge of the world, gained by conversation, business, 
 and travel. 
 
 If the world suspect your well intended designs, be 
 not uneasy. It only shows that mankind are themselves 
 false and artful, which is the cause of their being sus- 
 picious. 
 
 Never set up for a jack-in-an-office. Men of real 
 worth are modest, and decline employment, though much 
 fitter for it than those who thrust themselves forward. 
 But if good can be done, do it, if no one else will. 
 
 How much less trouble it costs a well disposed mind 
 to pardon, than to revenge ! 
 
 If your enemy is forced to have recourse to a lie to 
 blacken you, consider what a comfort it is to think of your 
 having supported such a character, as to render it impos- 
 sible for malice to hurt you without the aid of falsehood. 
 And trust to the genuine fairness of your character to 
 clear itself in the end. 
 
 Whoever has gone through much of life, must remem- 
 ber, that - he has thrown away a great deal of useless un- 
 easiness upon what was much worse in his apprehension, 
 than in reality. 
 
 A miser will sometimes serve you any way you please 
 to ask him, purely to save his money. 
 
OF PRUDENCE. Hi 
 
 If you give away nothing till you die, even your own 
 children will hardly thank you for what you leave them. 
 
 A great number of small favours will engage some peo- 
 ple more to you, than one great one. And where they 
 hope for more and more, they will be willing to go on to 
 serve you. 
 
 An idle person is dead before his time. 
 
 The great difficulty of behaviour is in case of surprise. 
 
 The truest objects of charity are those whom modesty 
 conceals. 
 
 A generous man does not lose by a generous man. 
 
 It will be a great misfortune to you, if an intimate 
 friend, or near relation, falls into poverty. You must either 
 lend your assistance, or be ill looked upon. And people 
 are often blamed for niggardliness, when, if all the truth 
 were known, (which might be very improper) they would 
 be justified in having given to the full extent of their 
 abilities. 
 
 A man's character and behaviour in public, and at 
 home, are often as different as a lady's looks at a ball, and 
 in a morning before she has gone through the ceremony of 
 the toilet. But real merit, like artless beauty, shines 
 forth at all times distinguishingly illustrious. 
 
 There is nothing more agreeable to human nature than 
 to have somewhat moderately to employ both mind and 
 body. There is nothing more unnatural, than for a crea- 
 ture endowed with various active powers, to be wholly 
 inactive. Hence the silly and mischievous inventions of 
 cards, dice, and other amusements, which empty people 
 have been obliged to have recourse to, as a kind of artifi- 
 cial employment, to prevent human nature from sinking 
 into an absolute lethargy. Why might not our luxurious 
 wasters of heaven's most inestimable gift, as well employ 
 the same eagerness of activity in somewhat that might 
 turn to account to themselves and others, as in the insipid 
 and unprofitable drudgery of the card-table ? 
 
 To serve your friends to your own ruin, is romantic. 
 To think of none but yourself, is sordid. 
 
 Riches and happiness have nothing to do with one ano- 
 ther, though extreme poverty and misery be nearly 
 related. 
 
 Judge of yourself by that respect you have voluntarily 
 
\\0 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 paid you by men of undoubted integrity and discernment, 
 and who have no interest to flatter you. Act up to your 
 character. Support your dignity. But do not make 
 yourself unhappy, if you meet not with the honour you 
 deserve from those whose esteem no one values. 
 
 Despise trifling affronts, and they will vanish. A little 
 water will put out a fire, which, blown up, would burn 
 a city. 
 
 Give away what you can part with. Throw away 
 nothing : you know not how much you may miss it. 
 
 Provide for aft<T-life, so as to enjoy the present. Enjoy 
 the present, so as to leave a provision for the time to come. 
 
 Avoid too many and great obligations. It is running 
 into debt beyond what you may be able to pay. 
 
 Conclude at least nine parts in ten of what is handed 
 about by common fame to be false. 
 
 Wealth is a good servant, but a bad master. 
 
 Do not offend a bad man, because he will stick at noth- 
 ing to be revenged. It is cruel to insult a good man, who 
 deserves nothing but good. A great man may easily 
 crush you. And there is none so mean who cannot do 
 mischief. Therefore follow peace with all men. 
 
 To carry the triumph over a person you have got the 
 better of, too far, is mean and imprudent : it is mean, be- 
 cause you have got the better; it is imprudent, because 
 it may provoke him to revenge your insolence in some 
 desperate way. 
 
 Presents ought to be genteel, not expensive : they arc- 
 not valued by generous minds for their own sake, but as 
 marks of love or esteem. 
 
 Provide for the worst ; but hope the best. 
 
 Set about nothing, without first thinking it o\ er care- 
 fully. To say, " I did not think of that," is much the 
 same as saying, " You must know I am a simpleton." 
 
 Whoever anticipates troubles, will find he has thrown 
 away a great deal of terror and anguish to no purpose. 
 
 Accustom yourself to have some employment for every 
 hour you can prudently snatch from business. „ This 
 book was put together in that manner, else it could never 
 have been writ by its author. 
 
 Live so, as nobody may believe bad reports against you. 
 
 Whenever vou find vou do not care to look into vour 
 
©F PRUDENCE. 11£ 
 
 affairs, you may assure yourself that they will soon not 
 be fit to look into. 
 
 Reform yourself first and then others. 
 
 Do not place your happiness in ease from pain : there is 
 no such thing in this world ; but in patience under afflic- 
 tion, which is within your reach. 
 
 If you are a master, do not deprive yourself of so great 
 a raritv as a good servant for a slight offence. If you are 
 a dependant, do not throw yourself out of a good place, 
 for a slight affront. 
 
 Do what good offices you can ; but leave yourself at 
 liberty from promises and engagements. 
 
 Let no one overload you with favours : you will find it 
 an unsufferable burden. 
 
 There are many doublings in the human heart : do not 
 think you can find out the whole of a man's real character, 
 at once, unless he is a fool. 
 
 If you would embroil yourself with all mankind at 
 once, you have only to oppose every man's prevailing pas- 
 sion. Endeavour to mortify the proud man ; irritate the 
 passionate ; put the miser to expense ; and you will 
 have them all against you. On the other hand, if you had 
 rather live peaceably, give way a little to the particular 
 weakness of those you converse with. 
 
 It will take some time to raise your fortune in a fair 
 way, and to fit you for a better world : it will therefore be 
 proper to begin a course of industry and piety as early as 
 possible. 
 
 Aim at desert rather than reward. 
 
 Let no pretence of friendship mislead you ; he is not 
 your friend who attempts it. 
 
 Never keep a bad servant, in hope of his reformation. 
 
 It is seldom that either borrower or lender gets by the 
 bargain. 
 
 Think yourself cheap off with a little scandal for extra- 
 ordinary goodness : how many have paid their lives for 
 their integrity ? 
 
 The friendship of an artful man is mere self-interest : 
 you will get nothing by it. 
 
 If you trust a known knave, people will not so much as 
 pity you, when you suffer by him. 
 
 In dealing with a person you suspect, it mav be useful 
 
 P 
 
114 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 in conversation to draw him into difficulties, if possible, as 
 they 'cross-examine witnesses at the bar, in order to find 
 out the truth. It may even be of use to set him a talk- 
 ing ; in the inadvertency and hurry of conversation, he 
 may discover himself. 
 
 Consider how difficult a thing it must be to deceive 
 the general eye of mankind, who are as much interested 
 to detect you, as you are to deceive them. 
 
 He is surely a man of a greater reach, who can conduct 
 his affairs without being obliged to have recourse to tricks 
 and temporary expedients, than with them ; he who knows 
 how to secure the interest both of this world and the next, 
 than he who cannot contrive to get a comfortable subsist- 
 ence in this world without damning his soul. 
 
 It is foolish to show your teeth when you cannot bite. 
 
 Whoever loves injuries, let him provoke injuries. 
 
 In prosperity, prepare for a change : in adversity, hope 
 for one. 
 
 If you are ill used by a man, especially a great one, put 
 up with the injury quietly, and be thankful it was not 
 worse. When they do but a little mischief, the world 
 has a good pennyworth of them. 
 
 If .you let alone making your will till you come to a 
 death-bed, you will not do it properly. 
 
 If you give at all, do it cheerfully. 
 
 If you want to show a person, that you see through his 
 crafty designs, a hint between jest and earnest may do bet- 
 ter than telling him bluntly and fully how he stands in 
 your mind : from a little, he will guess the rest. 
 
 With the multiplicity of business every person has to 
 do, how can people complain of being distressed for some- 
 what to pass the time ? Besides private affairs to conduct, 
 or oversee ; children to form to wisdom and virtue ; the 
 distressed to relieve ; the unthinking to advise ; friends 
 and country to serve ; their own passions to conquer ; 
 their minds to furnish with knowledge, virtue, and reli- 
 gion ; a whole eternity's happiness to provide for. 
 
 Try a friend before you trust him. Trust him no more 
 than is necessary. Bear with any weakness that does not 
 strike at the root of friendship. If a difference arise, bring 
 the matter to a calm hearing. Make up the breach, if 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 115 
 
 possible. But if friendship languishes for any time, let 
 it expire peaceably. 
 
 There is as much meanness in taking every trifle for an 
 affront, as in putting up with the grossest indignity. The 
 first is the character of a bully ; the latter of a coward : 
 which of the two had you rather be ? 
 
 In all schemes, leave room for the possibility of a mis- 
 carriage. 
 
 Those are the best diversions, which most relieve the 
 mind, and exercise the body ; and which bring the least 
 expense of time and money. Mirth is one thing, and mis- 
 chief another. 
 
 It is strange to reflect a little upon some of the irrecon- 
 cilable contrarieties in human nature. Nothing seems 
 more strongly worked into the constitution of the mind 
 than the love of liberty. Yet how very ready are we in 
 some cases to give up our liberty ? What more tyrannical 
 than fashion ? Yet how do all ranks, sexes, and ages en- 
 slave themselves in obedience to it ? There is great reason 
 to believe that it is wholly in compliance with custom, that 
 many judicious, thinking people, waste so many valuable 
 hours as we see they do, at an amusement, which must be 
 a slavery to persons capable of thought, I mean the card- 
 table. But such people ought to consider, how they can 
 justify to themselves the throwing away so great a part of 
 precious life, besides giving their countenance to a bad 
 practice ; merely because it is the fashion. 
 
 Bestir yourself while young : you will want rest 
 when old. 
 
 Do not wish ; but do. 
 
 Trust not relations, unless they be such as you would 
 think worthy of trust, if they were strangers. 
 
 If you are not worth a shilling after all j r our debts are 
 paid, do not spend a shilling that you can save. Do not 
 squander away your hopes. 
 
 If you can live independent, never give up your liberty 
 and your leisure, much less your conscience, to a great 
 man. He has nothing to give in return for them. If you 
 can but be contented in moderate circumstances, you may 
 be happy, and keep your inestimable liberty, leisure, and 
 integrity into the bargain. 
 
 People are better found out in their unguarded hours. 
 
116 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 than by the principal actions of their lives : the first, is na- 
 ture, the second, art. 
 
 If you chance to have a quarrel with any one, by no 
 means write letters, or send messages ; bring the matter 
 to a hearing, as quickly as possible, before your spirits have 
 time to rankle. Endeavour rather to reconcile than con- 
 quer your enemy. By so doing, you take from him the 
 inclination to hurt you, which is the best security. When 
 you have reconciled him, take care, if you find he has 
 acted a traitorous part, never to trust, or be intimately 
 concerned with him any more. You may love him as a 
 fellow creature ; but not confide in him as a good man. 
 
 To gain applause, you must do as the archer, who ob- 
 tains the prize by hitting the mark. 
 
 Asking a favour by letter, or giving a person time to 
 think of it, is only giving him an opportunity of getting off 
 handsomely. 
 
 It is not hard to find out a man's true merit, as to 
 abilities. 
 
 He who behaves well, is certainly no weak man. But 
 nothing is more difficult, than to find out a man's cha- 
 racter as to integrity. 
 
 He who never misbehaved either in joy, in grief, or 
 surprise, must have his wisdom at command, in a manner 
 almost superior to humanity, and may be pronounced a 
 true hero. 
 
 Haste is but a poor apology : take time and do your bu- 
 siness well. 
 
 If you would not be forestalled by another, or laughed 
 at in case of a disappointment, do not tell your designs. 
 
 If you are to be called a scrub, let it be for sparing, 
 where frugality is proper. Who would spare in the edu- 
 cation of a son ; in carrying on a considerable law suit ; or 
 in defraying the expense of a solemnity ? 
 
 I would not answer for the conduct of the ablest man in 
 the world, if I knew that he was so conceited of his own 
 abilities, as to be above advice. 
 
 There is more good to be done in life by obstinate dili- 
 gence, and perseverance, than most people seem aware of. 
 The ant and bee are but little and weak animals ; and yet 
 by constant application, they do wonders. 
 
 Do not scold or swear at your servants : they will des> 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 117 
 
 pise you for a passionate, clamorous fool. Do not make 
 them too familiar with you : they will make a wrong use 
 of it, and grow saucy. Do not let them know all the va- 
 lue you have for them : they will presume upon your 
 goodness, and conclude that you cannot do without them. 
 Do not give them too great wages : it will put them above 
 their business. Do not allow them too much liberty : 
 they will want still more and more. Do not entreat 
 them to live with you : if you do, they will conclude they 
 may live as they please. 
 
 Irresolution is as foolish as rashness. If the husband- 
 man should never sow, or the shipmaster never put to 
 sea, where would be the harvest, or the gains ? 
 
 Do not think to prevail with a man in a fury, to calm his 
 passion in a moment ; if you can persuade him to put off 
 his revenge for some time, it will be the most you can 
 hope. Advice may sometimes do good when you do 
 not expect it. People do not care to seem persuaded to 
 alter any part of their conduct : for that is an acknow- 
 ledgment, that they were* in the wrong. But they may, 
 perhaps, reflect afterwards upon what you said ; and, if 
 they do not wholly reform the fault you reproved, they 
 may rectify it in some measure. 
 
 To be regular, is prudence ; to go like a clock, is mere 
 formality. 
 
 Do not wish for an increase of wealth ; it does but en- 
 large the desires : whereas happiness consists in the gra- 
 tification of the wants of nature. 
 
 Where lies the wisdom of that revenge, which recoils 
 upon one's self? Instead of getting the better of your 
 enemy, by offending your Maker in revenging an injury, 
 you give your enemy the advantage, of seeing you punish- 
 ed. If you would have the whole advantage, forgive ; and 
 then, if he does not repent, the whole punishment will fall 
 upon him. 
 
 Profuse giving or treating is laughed at by the wise, ac- 
 cording to the old saying, " Fools make feasts," &c. 
 
 He has a good income, who has but few occasions of 
 spending : not he who has great rents, and great vents. 
 
 Providence can raise the meanest, jor humble the high- 
 est : it is therefore absurd for the one to despair, or the 
 other to presume. 
 
US OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 In difficult businesses, it may answer good purposes, to 
 let the proposal be made by a person of interior conse- 
 quence, and let another, whose word will have more 
 weight, come, as if by chance, and second the motion. 
 
 Would you punish the spiteful ? Show him that you 
 are above his malice. The dart, he threw at you, will 
 then rebound, and pierce him to the heart. 
 
 T6*get an estate fairly requires good abilities. To keep 
 and improve one, is not to be done without diligence and 
 frugality. But to lose one with a grace, when it so pleases 
 the divine Providence, is a still nobler art. 
 
 He who promises rashly, will break his promise with 
 the same ease as he made it. 
 
 Keep a watch over yourself, when you are in extreme 
 good humour : artful people will take that opportunity to 
 draw you into promises, which may embarrass you either 
 to break or keep. 
 
 Your actions must not only be right, but expedient : 
 they must not only be agreeable to virtue, but to prudence. 
 
 You may safely be umpire among strangers, but not 
 among friends : in deciding between the former, you may 
 gain ; among the latter, you must lose. 
 
 Great fame is like a great estate, hard to get, hard to 
 keep. 
 
 Party is the madness of many, for the gain of a few ; 
 says Swift. 
 
 If it gives you pain, or shame, to think of changing 
 your scheme at the remonstrance of your faithful friend, 
 (which shows extreme weakness in you,) you may get 
 over that difficulty, by seeming to have thought of some 
 additional consideration, which has moved you to follow 
 his advice. 
 
 In a free country, there is little to be done by force : 
 gentle means may gain you those ends, which violence 
 would for ever put out of your power. 
 
 He who is unhappy, and can find no comfort at home, 
 is unhappy indeed. 
 
 Never trust a man for the vehemence of his assevera- 
 tions, whose bare word you would not trust : a knave will 
 make no more of shearing to a falsehood, than of affirm- 
 ing it. 
 
OF PRUDENXE. 119 
 
 Theory will fignifiy little, without address to put your 
 knowledge in practice. 
 
 In affliction, constrain yourself to bear patiently for a 
 day or so only for the sake of trying, whether patience 
 does not lighten the burden : if the experiment answers, 
 as you will undoubtedly find, you have only to continue it. 
 
 If you borrow, be sure of making punctual payment, 
 else you will have no more trust. 
 
 Is it not better that your friend tell you your faults pri- 
 vately, than that your enemy talk of them publicly ? 
 
 A princely mind will ruin a private fortune. Keep the 
 rank in which Providence hath placed you : and do not 
 make yourself unhappy, because you cannot afford what- 
 ever a wild fancy might suggest. The revenues of all the 
 kingdoms of the world would not be equal to the expense 
 of one extravagant person. 
 
 Where there is a prospect of doing good, neither be so 
 forward in thrusting yourself into the direction of the 
 business as to keep out others, who might manage it bet- 
 ter ; nor so backward, through false modesty, as to let the 
 thing go undone, for want of somebody to do it. If no one- 
 else, who could execute a good work better, will engage in 
 it, do you undertake and execute it as well as you can. 
 
 The man of books is generally awkward in business : 
 the man of business is often superficial in knowledge. 
 
 In engaging yourself for any person or thing, you will 
 be sure to entangle yourself, if things should not turn out 
 to your expectation. And if you get off for a little ridi- 
 cule think it a arood bargain. 
 
 You may perhaps come to be great or rich ; but re- 
 member the taxes and deductions you will be liable to, of 
 hurry, noise, impatience, flattery, envy, anxiety, disap- 
 pointment ; not to mention remorse. All these, and a 
 hundred other articles set on one side of the account, and 
 your wealth and grandeur on the other, are you likely to 
 be greatly a gainer in happiness by quitting a private sta- 
 tion from pomp and show ? Ask those who have experi- 
 ence. 
 
 Necessity and ability live next door to one another. 
 
 If you never ask advice, you will hardly go always right. 
 If you ask too many, you will not know which way to go. 
 If you obstinately oppose advice, you will certainly go 
 
1,20 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 wrong* A wicked counsellor will mislead you wilfully : 
 a foolish one thoughtlessly. 
 
 Never take credit where you can pay ready money ; 
 especially of low dealers : they will make you pay interest 
 with a vengeance. 
 
 Never refuse a good offer, for the sake of a better mar- 
 ket : the first is certainty ; the latter only hope. 
 
 To make a thing come of another, which you must at 
 last have done yourself, is an innocent, and often useful art 
 in life. 
 
 Take care of irrevocable deeds. 
 
 He who has done all he could, has discharged his con- 
 science. 
 
 Debt is one of the most substantial and real evils of 
 life : especially when a man comes to be so plunged, as to 
 have no prospect of ever getting clear. An honest mind 
 in such circumstances, must be in a state of despair, be- 
 cause there is no hope of ever being in a condition to do 
 justice to mankind. 
 
 Never let yourself be meanly betrayed into an admira- 
 tion of a person of high rank, or fortune, whom you would 
 despise, if he were your equal in station : none but fools 
 and children are struck with tinsel. 
 
 It is an employment more useful in society, to be a ma- 
 ker-up of differences, than a professor of Astronomy. But 
 it requires prudence to know how to come between two 
 people who are bickering at one another ; and not have a 
 blow from one or other. 
 
 If you must give a person, who comes to ask a favour, 
 the mortification of a denial, do not add to it that of an af- 
 front, unless he has affronted you by his petition. 
 
 If you make use of the faults of others, as warnings to 
 avoid falling into the same errors, you may profit by fol- 
 ly, as well as by wisdom. If you think of nothing but 
 laughing at them, I know no great advantage you can get 
 by that. 
 
 If you can by any sudden contrivance, (for framing of 
 which you do not find yourself reduced to the necessity 
 of a lie, or any other baser art) draw oft' part of the atten- 
 tion of your enemy, or disconcert his measures, as it is 
 common in Avar to attack at several places, at once ; I hold 
 it an honest and laudable artifice, 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 121 
 
 Do you not remember, when you was about twenty or 
 twenty-five years of age, that you was very full of your 
 own talents and accomplishments ? Do you not find, that 
 you have been growing every year since, more and more 
 ignorant and weak in your own opinion ? Let this teach 
 you to put a proper estimate upon your attainments, and 
 to know that the time will come, when (if you be found 
 worthy of true knowledge) you will reflect on all your ac- 
 quisitions in this state, as comparatively mean and trivial. 
 
 Look back upon the difficulties and troubles you have 
 been embarrassed with in life ; and observe, whether most 
 of them have not been occasioned by misconduct, pride, 
 passion, folly, and vice : and if you find you cannot bring 
 yourself to give up what has cost you infinite trouble and 
 vexation, conclude yourselfa confirmed incurable madman. 
 
 If ever you engage in any design for the public good, 
 depend upon meeting with almost as many hindrances) as 
 you have different persons to be concerned with. You 
 will have a difficulty started by almost ever} 7 one, to whom 
 you propose your scheme. One will tell you, it will do 
 no good ; another, that it will do harm ; and almost all 
 will be cold to what is not of their own proposing. Some 
 will seem to come into your scheme at once, and will by 
 degrees draw you out of the way you was in. By and by, 
 some bugbear starts up before them ; and then they are 
 as hasty to desert you, as they were sanguine to join you. 
 Many love to make a show of public spirit, while there i& 
 no trouble to be taken, or expense to be laid out ; but 
 when you expect them to bestir themselves in earnest, 
 you find yourself disappointed. Many, for the mere va- 
 nity of being in a scheme, will be very busy ; but if they 
 find they cannot be of the importance they desire, or that 
 they cannot rule all, the public good may shift for itself, 
 for what they care ; they will have no concern, where they 
 must go along with others. The timorousness of some ; 
 the difficulty of others, with respect to their characters, 
 which they do not care to hazard for the public advan- 
 tage ; and the rashness of others, who will be meddling ; 
 the coldness, the forwardness, the pride, the diffidence, of 
 those who should go along with you, will be so many ob* 
 stacles in your way, which will heartily plague you, if not 
 wholly disconcert your scheme. But we must not, on 
 
 Q 
 
122 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 account of the difficulties, resolve against attempting am 
 thincr for the general advantage. On the conti ary, the mere 
 the difficulty, the greater the praise. The proper method 
 of proceeding on such occasions, I take to be us follows : 
 
 Consider carefully your scheme, with its probable con- 
 sequences, comparing it with whatever you have known 
 done, that may coincide with or resemble it, either at 
 home or in foreign countries. Then talk it over with one 
 or more friends, whom you know to be men of under- 
 standing and sincerity. Keep it as private as possible, till 
 it he almost ripe for execution. Carry it as far as you 
 can, before you desire the concurrence of any number of 
 persons, especially of high rank. They are generally, and 
 not altogether without reason, suspicious of whatever is 
 proposed to them as a project. And one will not be first, 
 and another will not be first, in a new scheme : though 
 they will perhaps join with others, especially of their own 
 rank. By this conduct you may by degrees draw into a 
 concurrence with yen some persons, whose names may 
 be of sen ice, and may prevent the objections which may 
 be made by others. For when people see a design going 
 into immediate execution, they will consider it in a very 
 different manner from what is only proposed as a possible 
 scheme, but is yet wholly immature. 
 
 I cannot help wondering at the turn of many people's 
 minds, who are fond of what is far fetched, merely for its 
 beinfr foreisrn. Whereas one would think self-love, which 
 produces so many foolish effects, might at least produce 
 one reasonable one, I mean, to make people fond of home, 
 and whatever is the product of their own country, and 
 their own grounds. Why should we love our own chil- 
 dren, our own works, and our own weaknesses merely be- 
 cause tliev are our own, at the same time that we love fo- 
 reign fashions, wines, musicians, ckc. merely because they 
 are foreign "? For my part, I think it is much more for an 
 English gentleman to boast, that the provisions of his ta- 
 ble are the product of his own estate, and the dress he 
 wears, the manufacture of his own country, than that the 
 four quarters of the globe have been ransacked to feed and 
 clothe him.* 
 
 * Thes s on the Love of Country ought, at this lime Jn particular, to 
 
 daive their full force on the heart of every American. — Publisher. 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 123 
 
 If while you are young, and bad habits are yet but weak 
 in you, you have not strength of mind to conquer them, how 
 will you bL' able to do it, when they have acquired strength 
 by length of time and practice ? If you do not find your- 
 self now disposed to look into the state of your mind, 
 and to repent and reform, while there is less to set right, 
 how will you bring yourself hereafter to examine your own 
 heart, when all is confusion within, and nothing fit to be 
 looked into '? Or how will you bring yourself to repent 
 and reform, when there will be so much to set right, that 
 you will not know where to begin '? 
 
 It is easy to keep from gaming, drunkenness, or any 
 other fashionable vice. You have only to lay down a firm 
 resolution, and fix in your mind a steady aversion against 
 them. When once your humour is known, nobody will 
 trouble you. They will perhaps say of you, "He is a 
 queer fellow, and will not do as other people do." At 
 last those who cannot live without the card-table and the 
 bottle, will drop you; and then vou have only to seek out 
 company where improvement is more pursued than amuse- 
 ment. I am mistaken if you will be a great loser by the 
 exchange. 
 
 Make a sure bargain beforehand with workmen ; and 
 by no means be put oft' with their telling you, they will 
 refer the price to your discretion. 
 
 A person, who fills a place of eminence, will do well to 
 observe the following rules: 1. Above all things to act 
 a strictly just and upright part: for that will be sure to 
 end well. 2. To make his advantage of the errors of his 
 predecessors. 3. To avoid all extremes in general : 
 violent measures are wholly inconsistent with prudence. 
 4. To suspect all ; but take care not to seem suspicious of 
 any. 5. To be content with a moderate income, and 
 moderate ostentation : great riches and grandeur infallibly 
 draw envy and hatred. 6. To be easy of access : stiffness 
 is universally hated ; and affability tends to reconcile peo- 
 ple to the private character of a person whose public con- 
 duct may be obnoxious. 7. To hear all opinions, and 
 follow the best. 8. To listen attentively to the remarks 
 made by enemies. 9. To show to inferiors somewhat 
 personally great in his conduct and character: it exposes 
 
|i>4 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 a man of rank to extreme contempt, to observe that what 
 makes the difference between him and his interiors, is 
 chiefly dress, riches, or station. 10. To retire in time, if 
 possible, with a reputation unsullied. 
 
 Health ; a good conscience ; one hundred a year for a 
 single person, or two for a family ; the real necessaries of 
 life are soon reckoned up. If there happen to be in the 
 neighbourhood a few conversable people, with whom you 
 may waik, or ride out, hear a song, crack a harmless joke, 
 or have a game at bowls, you are possessed of the whole 
 luxury of life. Where is the man whose merit may chal- 
 lenge such happiness? Yet how many are there dissatisfied 
 in affluence beyond this? 
 
 h you find yourself in a thriving way keep in it. 
 
 Throw sordid self out of your mind, if you think of 
 being truly great in spirit. 
 
 A readiness at throwing any sudden thought which may 
 occur, either in reading or conversation, into easy language, 
 may be of great use towards improvement in prudence for ac- 
 tion, and iurniture for conversation. One who accustoms 
 himself much to making remarks of all kinds in writing, 
 must in time have by him a collection containing some- 
 what upon every thing. 
 
 I do not know a much greater unhappiness in life, than 
 that of being connected by blood or friendship, with un- 
 fortunate necessitous people. A generous mind cannot 
 bear to see them sink, without endeavouring to help ihem 
 out of their difficulties, The consequence of which is, 
 being drawn into difficulties by their means. If you lend, 
 and ask for your own, a quarrel follows. And if you give 
 freely, they will depend on your supporting them in idle- 
 ness. And after all, what is most vexatious is, that you 
 can seldom do any good to imprudent and unthriving 
 people. Such connections a prudent man will avoid, or 
 give up as soon as possible. 
 
 Do not think of any great design after forty years of age. 
 
 The very deliberating upon business is half the busi- 
 ness. 
 
 Your neighbour has more income than enough ; you 
 have just enough. Is your neighbour the better lor hav- 
 ing what he has no use for? Are you the worse for being 
 free from the trouble of what would be useless to you ? 
 
OF PRUDENCE. 125 
 
 Better consider for an hour, than repent for a year. 
 
 Let scandal alone, and it will die away of itself : op- 
 pose it, and it will spread the faster. 
 
 Let safety and innocence be two indispensable ingredi- 
 ents in all your amusements : Is there any pleasure in 
 what leads to loss of health, fortune, or soul ? 
 
 Take care of falling out of conceit with your wife, your 
 station, habitation, business, or any thing else, which you 
 cannot change. Let no comparisons once enter into your 
 mind : the consequence will be restlessness, envy, and 
 unhappiness. 
 
 Be not desirous of scenes of grandeur, of heightened 
 pleasures and diversions : it is the sure way to take your 
 heart off from your private station and way of life, and to 
 make you uneasy and unhappy. It is a thousand to one 
 but, if you were to get into a higher station, you would 
 find it awkward and unsuitable to you, and that you would 
 only want to return again to your former happy indepen- 
 dence. 
 
 There is no time spent more stupidly than that which 
 some luxurious people pass in a morning between sleep- 
 ing and waking, after nature has been fully gratified. He 
 who is awake, may be doing somewhat : he who is asleep, 
 is receiving the refreshment necessary to fit him tor action : 
 but the hours spent in dozing and slumbering, can hard- 
 ly be called existence. 
 
 Consider, the most elegant beauty is only a fair skin 
 drawn over a heap of the same flesh, blood, bones, and im- 
 purities, which compose the body of the ugliest dunghill 
 beggar. 
 
 If you have made an injudicious friendship, let it sink 
 gently and gradually ; if you blow it up at once, mischief 
 may be the consequence : never disoblige, if you can pos- 
 sibly avoid it. 
 
 If you want to try experiments, take care at least, that 
 they be not dangerous ones. 
 
 Better not make a present at all, than do it in a pitiful 
 manner ; every thing of elegance, is better let alone than 
 clumsily performed. 
 
 If you want to keep the good opinion of a great person, 
 whom you find to be a man of understanding ; do not 
 
1:26 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 thrust yourself upon him, but let him send for you when 
 he wants you. Do not pump lor his secrets, but stay till 
 he ; ells you them ; nor oiler him your advice unasked ; nor 
 repeat any thing of what passes between yon, relating' to 
 family, or state affairs ; nor boast of your intimacy with 
 him ; nor show yourself ready to sneak and cringe, or to 
 make the enemy of mankind a present of your soul to ob- 
 lige your patron. If your scheme be to make your fortune 
 at any rate, put on your boots, and plunge through thick 
 and thin. 
 
 It will vex you to lose a friend for a smart stroke of rail- 
 lery ; or the opinion of the wise and good, for a piece of 
 foolish behaviour at a merry-making. 
 
 The more you enlarge your concerns in life, the more 
 chances you will have of embarrassments. 
 
 Mankind generally act not according to right ; but 
 more according to present interest ; and most according 
 to present passion : by this key you may generally get into 
 their designs, and foretell what course they will take. 
 
 In estimating the worth of men, keep a guard upon 
 your judgment, that it be not biassed by wealth or splen- 
 dour. At the same time, there is no necessity for treating 
 with a cynical insolence, every person whom Provic! 
 hath placed in an eminent station, merely because four 
 experience teaches you, that very few of the great are de- 
 serving of the esteem of the wise and good. Consider 
 the temptations which besiege people of distinction, and 
 render it almost impossible for them to come at truth ; 
 and make all reasonable allowances. If you see any thing 
 like real goodness of heart in a person of high rank, admire 
 it as an uncommon instance of excellence, which, in a 
 more private station, would have risen to an extraordinary 
 pitch. 
 
 Never write letters about any affair that has occasioned, 
 or may occasion a difference : a difference looks bigger 
 in a letter than in conversation. 
 
 Do not let one failure in a worthy and practicable 
 scheme baffle you : the more difficulty the more glory. 
 
 If you do not set your whole thoughts upon a business, 
 while you are about it, it is ten to one but you mismanage 
 it : if you set your affections immoveably upon worldly 
 things vou will become a sordid earth- worm. 
 
OF PRUDENCE. J 27 
 
 Grief smothered preys upon the vitals ; give it vent into 
 the bosom of a friend : but take eare that your friend be a 
 person of approved tenderness ; else he will not admin- 
 ister the balm of sympathy : of tried prudence ; else you 
 will not profit by his advice or consolation : and of expe- 
 rienced secrecy ; else you may chance to find yourself be- 
 trayed and undone. 
 
 In public places be cautious of your behaviour : you 
 know not who may have an eye upon you, and afterwards 
 expose your levity or affectation where you would least 
 wish it. Nothing- can be imagined more nauseous than 
 the public behaviour of many people, who make mighty 
 pretensions to the elegancies of life. To go to church, to 
 a tragedy, or an oratorio, only to disturb all who are within 
 reach of your impertinence, shows a want, not only of 
 common modesty and civility, but of common sense. If 
 you do not come to improve, or to enjoy the entertain- 
 ment, you can have no rational scheme in view. If you 
 want to play off your fooleries, you have only to go to a 
 rout, where you are sure nothing of sense Gr reasonable en- 
 tertainment will have any place, and where consequently 
 you can spoil nothing. As to indecencies in places of 
 public worship, one would think the fear of being- struck 
 by the Power to whom such places are dedicated, would 
 a little restrain the public impiety of some people. 
 
 Never disoblige servants if you can avoid it. Low 
 people are often mischievous : and having lived with you, 
 have it in their power to misrepresent and injure you. 
 
 The more servants you keep, the worse you will be 
 served. 
 
 Great people think their inferiors do only their duty- in 
 serving them : And that they do theirs in rewarding their 
 services with a nod or a smile. The lower part of man- 
 kind have minds too sordid to be capable of gratitude. It 
 is therefore chiefly from the middle rank that vou ma}- 
 look for a sense and return of kindness, or any thing wor- 
 thy or laudable. 
 
 Do not let your enemy see that he has it in his power 
 to plague you. 
 
 Beware of one who has been your enemy, and ail of a 
 sudden, no body knows how, or why, grows mighty loving 
 and friendlv. 
 
128 OF PRUDENCE. 
 
 In proposing- your business, be rather too full, than tod 
 brief, to prevent mistakes. In affairs, of which you are a 
 judge, make the proposal yourself. In cases which you 
 do not understand, wait if possible, till another makes it 
 to you. 
 
 Be fearful of one you have once got the better of. You 
 know not how you may have irritated him ; nor how 
 deeply revenge works in his heart against you. U is bet- 
 ter not to seem to have got the advantage of your enemy 
 when you have. 
 
 If you ask a favour, which you had some pretensions 
 to, and meet with a refusal, it will be impolitic to show 
 that you think yourself ill used. You will act a more pru- 
 dent part in seeming satisfied with the reasons given. So 
 you may take another opportunity of soliciting; and may 
 chance to be successful : for the person you have obliged 
 will, if he has any grace, be ashamed and puzzled to re- 
 fuse you a second time. 
 
 If you are defamed, consider, whether the prosecution 
 of the person who has injured you is not more likely to 
 spread the report than to clear your innocence. If so, 
 your regard for yourself, will teach you what course to 
 ftike. 
 
OF 
 
 HUMAN NATURE. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 .AVING in the former book laid before the young 
 reader a series of directions with regard to his conduct in 
 most circumstances in life, which, if he will follow, sup- 
 plying their deficiencies (as it is impossible to frame a sys- 
 tem of prudentials that shall suit all possible cases with- 
 out deficiency) by applying to the judicious and experi- 
 enced for advice in all extraordinary emergencies, and by 
 forming his conduct by the best rules and examples, he 
 wiil have great reason to hope for success and credit in life, 
 and to have even his disappointments and misfortunes as- 
 cribed, at least by the candid and benevolent, to other 
 causes, rather than to error, or misconduct on his part ; it 
 follows next to proceed to the consideration of what 
 makes another very considerable part of the dignity of 
 human life, to wit, The improvement of the mind, by 
 useful and ornamental knowledge. 
 
 It may be objected, that, as all our knowledge is com- 
 paratively but ignorance, it cannot be of much importance 
 that we take the pains to acquire what is of so little conse- 
 quence when acquired. 
 
 R 
 
130 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 But it is to be observed, that our knowledge is said to 
 be inconsiderable only in comparison with that of superior 
 beings, and that what we can know is not to be named in 
 comparison with what in the present state lies wholly out 
 of our reach. And though this is the case notonlv of our 
 shortsighted species, but also of the highest archangel in 
 heaven, whose comprehension, being still finite, must fall 
 infinitely short of the whole extent of knowledge, which 
 in the l^ivine Mind is strictly infinite ; yet I believe hard- 
 ly any man can be found so weak as to despise the knowl- 
 edge of an angel, or superior being, or who would not 
 willingly acquire it, if it were possible. 
 
 If there is a certain measure of knowledge, which we 
 are sure is attainable, because it has been attained by 
 many of our own species, must we despise it because we 
 know there are vast tracks of science to which human sa- 
 gacity cannot reach ? Must we fall out with our eyes be- 
 cause they cannot take in the ken of an angel ? Must we 
 resolve not to make use of them to see our way here on 
 earth, because they are not acute enough to show us 
 whether there are any inhabitants in the moon ? 
 
 Truth may be compared to gold or diamonds in the 
 mine, the smallest fragment of which is valuable. And 
 if one had the offer of all the gold dust, or all the small 
 diamonds of a mine, I believe he would hardly reject it, 
 because he could not have the working of the rich vein 
 wholly to himself. Truth is the proper object of the un- 
 derstanding, as food is the nourishment of the bod}'. 
 Less important truths are still worth searching for. 
 Truths of great importance are worth any labour the find- 
 ing them may cost. 
 
 It is, therefore, plainly one thing to be conceited of any 
 acquisitions we can make in knowledge, and another, to, 
 despise those that are within our power. There is no 
 doubt but the most enlightened angel above, is less con- 
 ceited of the vast treasures of knowledge he possesses, than 
 a student in his first year at the university, is of the crude 
 and indigested smattering lie has gained. Nor is there any 
 room to doubt, that knowledge is more esteemed by those 
 sagacious beings who best know the value of it, than by 
 our shortsighted species, who have gone such inconsider- 
 able lengths in it. 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 131 
 
 The present is by no means an age for indulging igno- 
 rance. A person, who thinks to have any credit among 
 mankind, or to make any figure in conversation, must ab- 
 solute] v resolve to take some pains in improving himself. 
 We find more true knowledge at present in shops and 
 counting houses, than could have been found an age or 
 two ago in universities. For the bulk of the knowledge 
 of those times consisted in subtle distinctions, laborious 
 disquisitions, and endless disputes about words. The 
 universal diffusion of knowledge, which we observe at 
 present among all ranks of people, took its rise from the 
 publishing those admirable essays, the Spectator, Tatler, 
 and Guardian, in which learned subjects were, by the ele- 
 gant and ingenious authors, cleared from the scholastic 
 rubbish of Latin and logic, represented in a familiar style, 
 and treated in a manner which people of plain common 
 sense might comprehend. The practice of exhibiting 
 courses of experiments in London, and other great cities, 
 which was first introduced by Winston, Disaguliers, and 
 others, has likewise greatly contributed to the spreading a 
 taste for knowledge among the trading people, who now 
 talk familiarly of things, their grandfathers would have 
 thought it as much as their credit was worth to have been 
 thought to know. 
 
 There is indeed greater danger, lest the flood of luxury 
 and vice, which overruns the nation, go on increasing, till 
 it destroys all that is truly noble and valuable in the peo- 
 ple. I need not say danger. There is not the least doubt 
 but the debauchery of modern times will shortly make an 
 end, either of the nation or of itself. The histories of all 
 the states of former times, where luxury has prevailed, 
 sufficiently show what we have to expect. How r ever, at 
 present, it is absolutely necessary, in order to be on a foot- 
 ing with others, that we take a little pains to improve our- 
 selves, especially in those parts of knowledge which enter 
 commonly into conversation, as morals, history, and phy- 
 siology. 
 
 Nothing makes a greater difference between one being 
 and another, than different degrees of knowledge. The 
 mind of an ignorant person is an absolute void. That of 
 a wrongheaded person may be compared to a town sack- 
 ed by an enemy, where all is overturned, and nothing in 
 
1J0 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 its proper state or place. That of a wise man is a maga- 
 zine richly furnished. Their important truths are stored 
 up in such regular arrangement, that reflection sees at 
 once through a whole series of subjects, and observes dis- 
 tinctly their relations and connexions. We may consider 
 the mind of an angelic being as a vast palace, in which are 
 various magazines stored with sublime truths, the con- 
 templation of whose connexions, relations, and various 
 beauties, must afford a happiness to us inconceivable. — 
 The Divine mind (if it may be allowed us to attempt to 
 form any faint idea of die Original of all perfection) may 
 be considered as the immense and unbounded treasure ol 
 all truth, where the original ideas of all things that ever 
 have been, that now are, and that ever shall be, or that are 
 barely possible, are continually present; the continual con- 
 templation of which infinitude of things, with the infinite 
 beauties resulting from their various relations and con- 
 nexions, must (if we may take the liberty of the expres- 
 sion) afford infinite entertainment and delight. 
 
 Thus, in proportion to the rank which any being holds 
 in the universe, such are his views and his comprehension 
 of things. And I know not whether the difference be 
 greater betwixt the most enlightened of our species, and 
 the lowest order of angelic beings ; than downward from 
 the most knowing of our species to the most ignorant. 
 To compare an illiterate clown, or even a nobleman sunk 
 in sensuality and ignorance, (for it is the same thing 
 whether you choose out of the great vulgar or the small) 
 with a A'ewton or a Clarke ; to compare, I say, two minds, 
 of which the one is wholly blind and insensible to every- 
 thing above the mere animal functions, of which a brute 
 is as capable as he ; and the other is raised habitually above 
 the regards of sense, and is employed in the contempla- 
 tion of great and sublime truths, in searching into the glo- 
 rious -works of his Almighty Maker in the natural world, 
 and his profound scheme of government in the moral, and, 
 by the force of a stupendous sagacity, is able, to pene- 
 trate into, and lay open to others, truths seemingly beyond 
 human reach ; by knowing more of the Divine works, 
 is capable of forming more just conceptions of the glori- 
 ous Author of all, and consequently of paying him a more 
 rational obedience and devotion, of approaching nearer to 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 135 
 
 him; to compare two minds so immensely different in 
 their capacities and endowments, what likeness appears to 
 determine ns to regard them as of the same species, and 
 not rather to pronounce the one an angel, and the other a 
 brute "? 
 
 We see, therefore, that though there may be no room 
 for pride or self-conceit on account of our attainments in 
 knowledge, since the highest pitch we can possibly soar to, 
 will be but inconsiderable in comparison with what we 
 never can reach ; yet there is a great deal of room for 
 laudable ambition ; since we see it is possible to excel 
 the bulk of our species, for any thing we know, almost as 
 much as an angel does a brute. 
 
 All endowments and acquisitions must have a begin- 
 ning. Time was, when Sir Isaac Neivto?i did not know 
 the letters of the alphabet. And the time may, and, no 
 doubt will come, when the meanest of my readers, if he 
 makes a proper use of the natural abilities, and providen-, 
 tial advantages given him, and studies to gain his favour, 
 in whose disposal all gifts and endowments are, will ex- 
 ceed not only the pitch to which the above-mentioned pro- 
 digy of our species reached, but will rise to a station 
 above that which the highest archangel in heaven fills at 
 present, though the distance must still continue. And 
 no one knows what immense advantage it may be of, to 
 have endeavoured, even in this imperfect state, to get our 
 minds opened, by the access of new ideas and views ; to 
 have habituated ourselves to examine, to compare, to re- 
 flect, and distinguish. It is evident that all these exer- 
 cises of the understanding must be absolutely necessary 
 in any future state whatever, for enlarging the sphere of 
 our knowledge, and ennobling our minds. And what an 
 advantage must it be for future states to have begun :he 
 work here that is to be carried on to eternity ? To what 
 end does religion, and even reason direct us to mortify our 
 passions and appetites, to habituate our minds to the con- 
 templation of those high and heavenly things we hope to 
 come one day to the enjoyment of? No doubt, it is ne- 
 cessary, in the nature of things, that our minds, in their 
 present infant state (as this may very properly be called) 
 be formed and disciplined, by custom and habit, to that 
 temper and character, which is to be hereafter their glory, 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE; 
 
 their perfection, and their happiness. Transfer the view 
 from practise to knowledge, and you will find, that the 
 analogy will hold good there likewise. It is necessary 
 
 that we cultivate to the utmost all the faculties of our 
 souls in the present state, in order to their arriving at 
 higher degrees of perfection hereafter. And no rational 
 mind ever will, or can rise to any high degree of perfection 
 in any state whatever, and continue in ignorance. For if 
 the definition of a rational mind be, "A being endowed 
 with understanding and will," (I mention only the two 
 principal faculties) there is no doubt but it is equally ne- 
 cessary to the perfection, and consequently to the happi- 
 ness of every rational being, that its understanding be en- 
 larged and improved by knowledge, as that its will be 
 formed and directed by a sense of duty. To put the matter 
 upon its proper footing, we ought to consider the improve- 
 ment of every faculty of our minds as apart of virtue, of 
 which afterwards. And in doing so, we shall find, that 
 there ought to be no distinction between the love of knowl- 
 edge and of virtue ; it being evident, that the proper im- 
 provement and due conduct of the understanding is an in- 
 dispensable part of the duty of every rational being. Just 
 sentiments of the supreme governor of the world, of our 
 own nature and state, of the fitness and propriety of moral 
 good, and the fatal effects of irregularity, are the only sure 
 foundation of goodness. Now, to attain full and clear no- 
 tions of these, it- will be necessary to make pretty exten- 
 sive inquiries, to carry our researches a considerable way 
 into the works of God, from whence we draw the clearest 
 conceptions of his nature and attributes; to study our 
 own nature and state, with the various passions, appetites, 
 and inclinations which enter into our constitution; the con- 
 nexions and relations we stand in to one another ; and the 
 different natures and consequences of actions, according to 
 the motives the}" spring from, and the circumstances which 
 diversify them. All this, I say, will be of immense ad- 
 vantage for raising us above vice, and confirming us in a 
 steady course of virtue, which is the direct tendency of 
 all true knowledge, and the effect it never fails to produce 
 in every honest and uncorrupted mind. 
 
 Arid though ic must be owned, that an illiterate day- 
 labourer who earns bjs living by hedging and ditching, 
 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 135 
 
 who is devout toward his God, and benevolent to his 
 neighbour, is a much nobler and more valuable being in 
 the sight of his Maker, than the most accomplished cour- 
 tier, who supports his grandeur by the wages of iniquity ; 
 nay, though it is evident, that great knowledge will even 
 make a wicked being the worse, as it enables him to be 
 more extensively wicked ; it does not therefore follow, 
 that knowledge is of no consequence to virtue ; but only 
 that vice is of so fatal and destructive a nature, as to poison 
 and pervert the best things where it enters. If the above 
 dav-labourer, by the mere goodness of his heart, may be 
 acceptable to God, and esteemed by ail good men, how 
 much higher might he have risen, with the addition of exten- 
 sive improvements in knowledge? Could ever a If'oolastoi: 
 or a Cudworth have formed such just, or such sublime 
 notions of virtue and of spiritual things "? Could they ever 
 have arrived at the pitch of goodness themselves reached, 
 or could they have represented it in the amiable lights 
 they have done, so as to gain others to the study and 
 practice of it, without extensively improved abilities '? 
 
 Enough, methinks, has therefore been said to invite 
 readers, especially the younger sort, to engage in the truly 
 
 noble and worthv labour of improving- their minds, rather 
 
 •» . * p . 
 
 than indulging their senses : of cultivating the immortal 
 
 part, rather than pampering the body ; of aspiring to a 
 resemblance of the nature of angels, rather than sinking 
 themselves to the rank of brutes. 
 
 It is amazing and delightful to consider, what seeming- 
 ly difficult things are done by means of human knowledge, 
 scanty and confined as it is. The wonders performed by 
 means of reading and writing are so striking, that some 
 learned men have given it as their opinion, that the whole- 
 was communicated to mankind originally by some supe- 
 rior being. That by means of the various compositions 
 of about twenty different articulations of the human voice. 
 performed by the assistance of the lungs, the glottis, the 
 tongue, the lips, and the teeth, ideas of all sensible and 
 intelligible objects in nature, in art, in science, in history, 
 in morals, in supernaturals, should be communicable from 
 one mind to another ; and again, that signs should be con- 
 trived, by which those articulations of the human voict: 
 should be expressed, so as to be communicable from one 
 
136 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 mind to another by the eye ; this seems really beyond the 
 reach of humanity left to itself. To imagine, for exam- 
 ple, the first of mankind capable of inventing any set of 
 sounds, which should be fit to communicate to one 
 another the idea of what is meant by the words virtue or 
 rectitude, or any other idea wholly unconnected with any 
 kind of sound whatever, and afterwards of inventing a set 
 of signs, v. hich should give the mind by the eye, an idea 
 of what is properly an object of the sense of hearing ; (as 
 a word when expressed with the voice, represents an idea, 
 which is the mere object of the understanding) to imagine 
 mankind, in the first ages of the world, without any hint 
 from superior beings, capable of this, seems doing too 
 great honour to our nature. Be that as it will ; that one 
 man should, by uttering a set of sounds no way connect- 
 ed with, or naturally representative of one set of ideas 
 more than another ; that one man should, by such seem* 
 ingly unfit means, enlighten the understanding, rouse the 
 passions, delight or terrify the imagination of another ; 
 and that he should not only be able to do this when pre- 
 sent, viva voce; but that he should produce the same 
 effect by a set of figures no way naturally fit to represent 
 either the ideas he would communicate, or (less still) the 
 articulate sounds, which are themselves but representa- 
 tives of ideas ; and that he should affect another person at 
 pleasure, at the distance of five thousand miles, and with 
 as much precision and accuracy as if he were upon the 
 spot, nay, as if he could open to him his mind, and give 
 him to apprehend the ideas as they lie there in their origi- 
 nal state, is truly admirable. The translating (so to 
 speak) ideas into sounds, the translating those sounds into 
 visible objects, the translating one set of those visible ob- 
 jects into another, or turning one language into another, 
 as Hebrcxv, Greek, or Latin, into English ; all this, if we 
 were not familiar with it, would appear a sort of magic ; 
 but our being accustomed to it, does not lessen its real 
 excellence. 
 
 Again, if wc consider what strange things are commonly 
 done by every novice in numbers, wc cannot help admir 
 ing the excellence of knowledge. To tell an Indian, that 
 a boy of twelve years of age, could by making a few 
 scrawls upon paper, determine the number of barley- 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE, 137 
 
 corns, which would go round the globe of the earth ; 
 would strangely startle him ! To talk to one unacquainted 
 with the first principles of arithmetic, of adding together 
 a set of numbers, as five thousand five hundred and fifty- 
 five, six thousand six hundred and sixty-six, seven thou- 
 sand seven hundred and seventy-seven, and so on ; to the 
 number of twenty or thirty lines of figures, especially, if 
 those lines consisted of a great many places of figures., 
 going on to hundreds of thousands, millions, billions, tril 
 lions, and so on, to tell such a person, that it was not only 
 possible, but even that nothing was more easy or trifling;, 
 than to determine the whole amount of such a set of num- 
 bers, and that without mistaking a single unit ; all this would 
 seem to the untutored Indian utterly incredible and impos- 
 sible ! To tell a Barbarian, that nothing was more common, 
 than for traders in this part of the world, to buy in goods to 
 the value of many thousand pounds, to sell them out again 
 in parcels, not exceeding the value of ten or twenty shil- 
 lings each, to receive in their money only once a year, and 
 yet they committed no considerable mistake, nor suffered 
 any material loss in the dealings of many years together, 
 through error or miscalculation ; he would conclude, that 
 either those traders had memories above the usual rate of 
 human nature, or that they had supernatural assistance ! 
 Yet all that has been hitherto mentioned, and a thousand 
 times more, is what we find persons of the meanest natural 
 endowments, and the narrowest educations, capable of ac- 
 quiring ! That by observing with so simple an instru- 
 ment as a quadrant, the apparent altitude of the pole at 
 one place, and travelling on, till we find it elevated a 
 degree, that from thence we should determine with un- 
 doubted certainty, the real circuit of the whole globe of 
 the earth, and consequently its diameter and semidiame- 
 ter! That by aiVobservation of the parallax of the moon, 
 which is not difficult to take, with a few deductions and 
 calculations, we should, by knowing the proportion be- 
 tween the unknown sides and angles of a triangle and those 
 which are known, and by forming a .triangle according to 
 observation, the base of which to represent the earth's 
 semidiameter, be as sure of the distance from the earth 
 to the moon, as we are of the distance and height of a 
 tower, viewed at two stations ! That astronomers should 
 
 S 
 
138 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 thence proceed through all their wonderful discoveries 
 and calculations : the consideration of these things gives 
 no contemptible idea of human knowledge. If we pro- 
 ceed to the calculation of eclipses, determining the revo- 
 lutions and paths of comets, and so forth, we cannot help 
 looking upon the degree of knowledge we are capable of 
 attaining, as highly worthy our attention, and viewing our 
 own nature, as truly great and sublime, and the Divine 
 Goodness as highly adorable, which has endowed our 
 minds with abilities in themselves so wonderful, and 
 promising of endless improvements and enlargements ! 
 
 In what light then ought we to view those groveling 
 and meanspirited mortals, who make a pride of declaring 
 their contempt of knowledge ? Did one hear a vicious 
 person expressing his contempt of honesty and virtue, 
 should we think the more meanly of them, or of him? In 
 the same manner, when a shallow fop sneers at what he 
 does not understand, his low raillery ought to cast no re- 
 flection upon learning ; but he is to be considered as sunk 
 from the dignity of reason, and so far degenerated as to 
 make his ignorance his pride, which ought to be his 
 shame. 
 
 If we cast our eyes backward upon past times, or if we 
 take a view of the present state of the world, if we consid- 
 er whole nations, or single persons, nothing so fills the im- 
 agination, or engages the attention, as the conspicuous and 
 illustrious honours of knowledge and learning. The an- 
 cient Egyptians, the fathers of wisdom ; studious Atheni- 
 ans, the cultivators of every elegant art; the wise Jtotnans, 
 the zealous imitators of learned Greece; how come these 
 nations to shine, like constellations, through the deeps of 
 that universal mist which involves the rest of antiquity ? 
 How come the Pythagoras'', the Aristot/es, the Tul/ys, 
 the Livys to appear, even to us at this distance, as stars of 
 the first magnitude in the vast fields of aether ? How comes 
 it that Africa, since the setting of learning in that quarter 
 of the world, has been the habitation of obscurity and cru- 
 elty? What is the disgrace of wild Indians, and swinish 
 Hottentots? Is it not their brutish ignorance? What 
 makes our island to differ so much from the aspect it had 
 when Julius Ccvsar landed on our coast, and found us a 
 flock of painted savages, scampering naked through the 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 139 
 
 woods ? What nation makes such an appearance now, as 
 England, wherever knowledge is valued ? What names of 
 ancient warriors make so great a figure on the roll of fame, 
 or shine so bright in wisdom's eye, as those of the improv- 
 ers of arts and sciences, who have risen in our island? 
 Who would not rather, in our times, who know to des- 
 pise romantic heroism, choose to have his name enroled 
 with those of a Bacon, a Boyle, a Clarke, or a Newton, 
 the friends of mankind, the guides to truth, the improvers 
 of the human mind, the honours of our nature and our 
 world ; than to have a place among the Alexanders, the 
 C<esars, the Lewis' ', or the Charles\* the scourges and 
 butchers qf their fellow- creatures? 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Of Education from Infancy. Absolute Necessity, and proper 
 Method, of laying a Foundation of Moral Knowledge. 
 
 HAVING already treated in part, of so much of the 
 education of young children as falls under the care of the 
 parents, I will now, for the sake of exhibiting at once a 
 comprehensive view of the whole improvement of the 
 mind, begin from infancy itself; and lay down a general 
 plan of knowledge, and the method of acquiring it. And 
 I doubt not but the reader will own, that a genius natur- 
 ally good, and which has been cultivated in the manner 
 here to be described, may be said to have had most of the 
 advantages necessary for attaining the highest perfection 
 of human nature, of which this state is capable. 
 
 First, and above all things, it is to be remembered, and 
 cannot be too often inculcated, that, from the time a child 
 can speak, throughout the whole course of education, the. 
 forming of the temper to meekness and obedience, regula- 
 ting the passions and appetites and habituating the mind to 
 the love and practice of virtue, is the great, the constant, 
 and growing labour, without which all other culture is ab- 
 solute trifling. Nor is this to be done by fits and starts, 
 nor this most important of all knowledge to be superfi- 
 cially or partially communicated. Every obligation of mo- 
 
 \nd Burgh, had he lived, might have added, thQ Bonaparte *.— Publi ' , 
 
14 ^> OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 rality ; every duty of life, every beauty of virtue, and de- 
 formity of vice is to be particularly set forth, and represent 
 ed m every Afferent light. It is not a few scraps ^S 
 things got by memory, nor a few particular lessons Jven 
 
 \\ thou laying before the young mind a rational, a com- 
 plete and perfect system of morals, and of Christianity the 
 work will be defective and unfinished. ThSe mpoAan^ 
 
 lost sight of; raised from every occasion and opportu- 
 nity ; improved and enlarged as reason opens- vorked 
 into every faculty of the soul ; begun bv parents; " 
 on by the master or tutor; established by the man himself 
 v.hen of age to inquire and to act for himself 4 ; studied 
 every day and every hour while one faculty remains capa 
 We of exerting itself in the mind ; and the man, when M 
 of years must still proceed, and at last go out of the world 
 engaged in the important study of his duty, andmeansfor 
 a taningthe happiness and perfection for which he was 
 brought into being. 
 
 The knowledge of morality and Christianity is the ab- 
 so utely indispensable part of education. For what avails 
 it now knowing a person is in speculative science, if he 
 knows not how to be useful and happy? If this work be 
 neglected in the earlier part of life it must be owing to 
 some very favourable circumstances, if the person turns 
 out well afterwards. For the human mind resembles a 
 piece of ground which will by no means lie wholly bear- 
 but will either bring forth weeds or fruits, according as i 
 is cultivated or neglected. And according as the habits 
 of vice and irrehgion, or the contrary, get the first posses- 
 sion of the mmd, such is the future man like to be. 
 
 Ue see that the gross superstitions and monstrous ab- 
 surdities ox popery, by the mere circumstance of their 
 being early planted in the mind, arc not to be eradicated 
 afterwards, though it is certain, that as reason opens, and 
 the judgment matures, they must appear still more and 
 more shocking With how great advantage, then may 
 we establish m the minds of young ones the principles of 
 a religion strictly rational, and that will appear the more 
 so, the more it is examined. 
 
 It is plain, that early youth is the fittest season of life 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. Ul 
 
 for establishing first principles of any kind, because then 
 the mind is u holly disengaged from the pursuits which af- 
 terwards take possession of it. And the know ledge of 
 right and wrong is indeed the most level to all capacities 
 of any science whatever. For we are properly moral 
 agents, and are naturally qualified with sufficient abilities 
 to understand the obligations of morality, when laid be- 
 fore us, if we can but be prevailed with to observe them 
 in our practice ; for which purpose the most effectual 
 method, no doubt, is to have them early inculcated upon 
 us. 
 
 We do not think it proper to leave our children to 
 themselves, to find out the sciences of grammar, or num- 
 bers, or the knowledge of languages, or the art of writing, 
 or of a profession to live by. And shall we leave them 
 to settle the boundaries of right and wrong by their own 
 sagacity ; or to neglect, or misunderstand, a religion, which 
 God himself has condescended to give us, as the rule of 
 our faith and practice ? What can it signify to a youth, that 
 he go through all the liberal sciences, if he is ignorant of 
 the rules by which he ought to live, and by which he is 
 to be judged at last. Will Greek or Latin alone gain 
 him the esteem of the wise and virtuous ? or will philoso- 
 phy and mathematics save his soul ? 
 
 I know of but one objection against the importance of 
 what I am urging, which is taken from the deplorable de- 
 generacy, we sometimes observe the children of pious and 
 virtuous parents run into, who have had the utmost pains 
 taken with them, to give them a turn to virtue and good- 
 ness. 
 
 But is it not in some cases to be feared, that parents, 
 through a mistaken notion of the true method of giving 
 youth a religious turn, often run into the extreme of surfeit- 
 ing them with religious exercises, instead of labouring 
 chiefly to enlighten and convince their understandings, and 
 to form their tempers to obedience. The former, though 
 noble and valuable helps, appointed by Divine Wisdom for 
 promoting virtue and goodness, may yet be so managed as 
 to disgust a young mind, and prejudice it against religion 
 for life ; but the latter, properly conducted, will prove an 
 endlessly various entertainment. There is not a duty of 
 morality you can have occasion to inculcate, but what 
 
142 OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 may give an opportunity of raising some entertaining ob- 
 servation, or introducing some amusing history ; and 
 nothing can be more striking than the accounts of su- 
 pernatural things, of which Holy Scripture is full. And 
 though it may sometimes happen, that a vouth well 
 brought up may, by the force of temptation, run into fatal 
 errors in afterlife, yet such a one, it must be owned, has 
 a much better chance of recovering the right way, than 
 one who never was put in it. I am ashamed to add any- 
 more upon this head ; it being a kind of affront to the un- 
 derstandings of mankind, to labour to convince them of 
 a truth as evident as that the sun shines at noonday. 
 
 That it may unquestionably appear to be fully practica- 
 ble for a parent, or tutor, to establish youth, from the ten- 
 derest years, in principles of virtue and religion, by rea- 
 son, not by authority, by understanding, not by rote ; I 
 will here add a sketch of what I know may be taught with 
 success. 
 
 A parent in any station of life whatever, may, and 
 ought to bestow sometime every day, in instructing his 
 children in the most useful of all knowledge; Half an 
 hour, or an hour every day, will be sufficient to go through 
 a great deal of such sort of work in a year. And what 
 parent will pretend, that he cannot find half an hour a day 
 for the most important of all business ? At three or four 
 years of age, a child of ordinary parts is capable of being 
 shown and convinced, " That obedience is better than 
 perverseness ; that good-nature is more amiable than peev- 
 ishness ; that knowledge is preferable to ignorance; that 
 it is wicked to dissemble, to use any one ill, to be cruel to 
 birds, or insects ; that it is wrong to do any thing to 
 another, which one would not wish done to one's self; that 
 the world was made by one who is very great, wise, and 
 good, who is every where, and knows every thing that is 
 thought, spoke or done by men ; that there will be a time 
 when all, that ever lived, will be judged by God ; and 
 that they, who have been good, will goto heaven among 
 the angels, and those who have been wicked, to hell among 
 evil spirits." 
 
 There are few children of three or four years of age, 
 who are not capable of having their understandings open- 
 ed, and their minds formed, by such simple principles 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 143 
 
 as these ; and these, simple as they seem, are the ground- 
 work of morality and religion. 
 
 As the faculties strengthen, farther views may by de- 
 grees be presented to the opening mind ; and every lesson 
 illustrated and inculcated by instances taken from the Bi- 
 ble, and other books, or from characters known to the 
 teacher. The asking questions upon every head and 
 bringing in little familiar stories proper for the occasion, 
 will keep up a young one's attention, and make such ex- 
 ercises extremely entertaining, without which they will 
 not be useful. 
 
 Besides ail set hours for instruction, a prudent parent 
 will contrive to apply as much spare time as possible that 
 way, and to bring in some useful and instructive hint on 
 every occasion ; or to moralize upon the blowing of a feath- 
 er, and read a lecture on a pile of grass, or a flower. 
 
 Can any one think, that such a method of giving " line 
 upon line, precept upon precept, here a little and there a 
 little," is likely to miss having a considerable effect upon 
 the mind, for leading it to an early habit of attending to 
 the nature and consequences of actions, of desiring to 
 please, and fearing to offend, which if poeple could but be 
 brought to accustom themselves to from their youth, they 
 would never, in afterlife, act the rash and desperate part 
 we see many do. 
 
 Nor is there any thing to hinder a master of a private 
 place of education to bestow generally an hour every day, 
 and more on Sundays, in instructing the youth under his 
 care in the principles of prudence, morality, and religion. 
 This may be digested into a scheme of twenty or thirty 
 lectures, beginning from the very foundation, and going- 
 through all the principal particulars of our duty to God, 
 our neighbour, and ourselves, and from thence proceeding 
 to a view of the fundamental doctrines, evidences, and 
 laws of revealed religion. In all which there is nothing 
 but what may be brought down to the apprehension of 
 very young minds, by proceeding gently, and suiting one's 
 expression to the weak capacities of the learners ; doing 
 all by way of question, without which it is impossible to 
 keep up their attention, and in the manner of familiar dia- 
 logue, rather than a set harangue, or magisterial precept. 
 
 Above all things care oviprht to be taken, that religious 
 
144 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 knowledge be as little as possible put on the looting of a 
 task. A parent, or teacher, who communicates his instruc- 
 tions oi' this kind in such a manner, as to tire or disgust the 
 young mind, though he may mean well, does more harm 
 than good. A young person will have a better chance for 
 taking to a course of virtue and religion, if left wholly to 
 himself, than if set against theni by a wrong method of 
 education. The mind, like a spring, if unnaturally forced 
 one way, will, when let loose, recoil so much the more vio- 
 lently the contrary way. 
 
 The first Sunday evening's conversation, between the 
 master and pupils in a place of education, might be upon 
 happiness in general. Questions might be put to the eldest 
 of the youth, as whether they did not desire to secure their 
 own happiness in the most effectual way ; or if they would 
 be content to be happy for a few years, and take their 
 chance afterwards. They might be asked, what they 
 thought happiness consisted in, if in good eating, drink- 
 ing, play, and fine clothes only ; or whether they did not 
 think a creature capable of thought, of doing good or 
 evil and of living forever in a future state, ought to make 
 some provision of a happiness suitable to its spiritual part. 
 For illustrating this, they might be asked wherein they 
 thought the respective happiness of a beast, a man, and an 
 angel consisted. They might be taught partly what makes 
 the difference of those natures, and some general account 
 given them of the nature of man, his faculties, passions, and 
 appetites. They might be asked, whether they did not 
 think, that the only certain means for attaining the great- 
 est happiness mankind are capable of, was to endeavour 
 to gain the favour of God, who has all possible happiness 
 in his power. 
 
 The next Sunday evening's conversation might be up- 
 on the most likely means for gaining the favour of God, 
 in order to securing happiness. The youth might be ask- 
 ed, whether they did not think there was a difference in 
 the conduct of different persons, and in the effects of 
 their behaviour upon the affairs of the world. Instances 
 might be made use of, to show in general, that the natu- 
 ral tendency of a virtuous behaviour is to diffuse happi- 
 ness, and that vice naturally prcduces confusion and mis- 
 erv. Thcv nwht be asked, what would be the conse- 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 145 
 
 quence, if all men gave themselves to drunkenness, and 
 other kinds of intemperance; or to cruelty and vio- 
 lence ; and might be made to see, that if all men were 
 wicked the world could by no means subsist. From 
 thence they might be led on to conclude, that it was to 
 be expected that vice would always be displeasing to God ; 
 that consequently none but the virtuous could reasonably 
 expect to be finally happys however they might be suf- 
 fered to pass through the present life. They might then 
 be shown, that all the good or bad actions of men must 
 relate either to themselves, to their fellow creatures, or to 
 God. And that whatever action can have no effect either 
 upon one's self, or any other person, and is neither pleas- 
 ing nor displeasing to God, cannot be called either virtu- 
 ous or vicious. 
 
 The subject of the third evening's conversation might 
 be the introduction to the first head of duty, viz. that 
 which relates to ourselves. The youth might be shown 
 the propriety of beginning with that, as it is necessary to- 
 wards a person's behaving well to others, that his own 
 mind be in good order. They might be taught, that our 
 duty to ourselves, consists in the due care of our minds, 
 and of our bodies. They might be asked, whether they 
 did not think the understanding was to be improved with 
 useful knowledge ; the memory cultivated and habituated 
 for retaining important truths ; the will subdued to obe- 
 dience; and the passions subjected to the authority of 
 reason. They might be shown in a few general instances 
 what would be the consequence if none of these was 
 to be done ; what a condition the mind must be in, which 
 is neglected, and suffered to run to absolute misrule. 
 They might then be informed briefly of the uses and ends 
 of the passions, and their proper conduct. 
 
 The conversation the fourth, and one or two succeeding 
 evenings, might proceed to the necessity and means of re- 
 gulating the several passions, whose excess, and the bad 
 consequences of such excess, might be pointed out. The 
 passions not to be rooted up, but put under proper regu- 
 lations. Excess in the indulgence of them, how first run 
 into, and cautious to guard against it. Of self-love, self- 
 opinion or pride, ambition, anger, envy, malice, revenge, 
 and the rest ; of which as I shall have occasion to treat 
 
 T 
 
146 of knowledge: 
 
 pretty copiously in the third book, 1 si mil add nothing 
 farther at present, but refer the reader thither for a method 
 of treating them, which may with advantage be used in 
 instructing youth, excluding what may be thought too 
 abstract for their apprehension. For masters are to pro- 
 ceed with prudence, according to the various capacities of 
 the youth under their care ; never taking it for granted, 
 that such and such parts of moral knowledge are beyond 
 their reach ; but putting their capacities to a thorough 
 trial, which will show, contrary to common opinion, how 
 early the human mind is capable of comprehending very 
 noble and extensive moral views. 
 
 To treat of the due regulation of the bodily appetites, 
 as they are commonly called, will be employment for seve- 
 ral evenings. The love of life, of riches, of food, of 
 strong liquors, of sleep, of the opposite sex, (a subject 
 to be very slightly touched on) of diversions, of finery ; 
 the due regulation of each of these is to be pointed out, 
 and the fatal consequences of too great an indulgence of 
 them as strongly as possible set forth ; with cautions 
 against the snares by which young people are first led in- 
 to sensuality, and methods of prevention or reformation. 
 Of all which I shall likewise have occasion to treat in the 
 third book. The virtues contrary to the excessive indul- 
 gence of passion and appetite, ought to be strongly re- 
 commended, as humility, meekness, moderation in desires, 
 consideration, and contentment. And it is not enough 
 that young persons understand theoretically wherein a 
 good disposition of mind consists. They are to be held 
 to the strict observance of it in their whole behaviour. 
 One instance of malice, cruelty, or deceit, is a fault more 
 necessary to be punished, than the neglect of some hun- 
 dreds of tasks. And it must appear to every understand- 
 ing, that the keeping a youth under proper regulations, 
 even by mechanical means, is of great advantage, as he 
 will thereby be habituated to what is good, and must find 
 a vicious course unnatural to him. And there is no doubt 
 but the minds of youth may be rationally, as well as me- 
 chanically formed to virtue, by the prudent conduct and 
 instructions of masters, where parents will givetheir con- 
 currence and sanction. 
 
 Several evenings may be employed in giving the youth 
 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 147 
 
 a view of our duty to our neighbour, under which the 
 relative duties ought to be considered ; and particularly 
 that fundamental, but now unknown, virtue of the love of 
 our country, very strongly recommended. Materials, 
 and a method of instructing the youth in the duties of 
 negative and positive justice and benevolence, may be 
 drawn from what will be said on social virtue in the third 
 book. 
 
 Young people of good understanding may be rationally 
 convinced of the certainty of the Divine existence, by 
 a set of arguments not too abstract, but vet convincing. 
 The proof a posteriorly as it is commonly called, is the 
 fittest to be dwelt upon, and is fully level to the capa- 
 city of a youth of parts at fourteen years of age. An idea 
 of the Supreme Being, a set of useful moral reflections 
 upon his perfections, and an account of the duty we owe 
 him, may be drawn from what is said on that subject in 
 the following book. 
 
 To habituate young people to reason on moral subjects, 
 to teach them to exert their faculties in comparing, exam- 
 ining, and reflecting, is doing them one of the greatest ser- 
 vices that can be imagined. — And as there is no real mer- 
 it in taking religion on trust ; but on the contrary, a rea- 
 sonable mind cannot be better employed than in examin- 
 ing into sacred truth : and as nothing is likely to produce 
 a lasting effect upon the mind, but what the mind is clearly 
 convinced of ; on these, and all other accounts, it is ab- 
 solutely necessary that young people be early taught to 
 consider the christian religion, not as a matter of mere 
 form, handed down from father to son, or as a piece of su- 
 perstition, consisting in being baptized, and called after 
 the author of our religion, but as a subject of reasoning, 
 a system of doctrines to jbe clearly understood, a set of 
 facts established on unquestionable evidence, a body of 
 laws given by Divine authority, which are to better the 
 hearts, and regulate the lives of men. To give the youth 
 at a place of education, a comprehensive view of only 
 the heads of what they ought to be taught of the chris- 
 tian religion, will very nobly and usefully employ several 
 evenings. The particulars to be insisted on may be drawn 
 from the fourth book. 
 
 The whole course may conclude with an explanation of 
 
148 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 our Saviour's discourse on the mount, Matth. v. vi. and 
 vii. which contains the christian law, or rule of life, and 
 is infinitely more proper to be committed to memory by 
 youth, than all the catechisms that ever were or will be 
 composed. 
 
 This may be a proper place to mention, that from the 
 earliest years, youth ought to be accustomed to the most 
 reasonable of all services, I mean worshipping God. It 
 is no matter how short the devotions they use may be, so 
 they offer them with decency and understanding ; without 
 which they had better let them alone ; for they will be a 
 prejudice instead of an advantage to them. 
 
 Besides all other improvements, endeavours ought to 
 be used to lead young persons to study, to love, and to form 
 themselves by the holy Scriptures, the fountain of knowl- 
 edge, and rule of life. For this purpose, some of the time 
 allotted for moral instruction, in a seminary of learning, 
 may be interchangeably bestowed in reading, commenting, 
 and questioning the youth upon select parts of Scripture, 
 as the account of the creation and flood, the remarkable 
 characters of JS'oah, Lot and Abraham, the miraculous his- 
 tory of the people of Israel, the moral writings of Solon: on, 
 some of the most remarkable prophecies, with accounts of 
 their completions, the Gosple-history, and the moral parts 
 of the epistles. An hour every morning may be very well 
 employed in this manner. 
 
 A course of such instructions continued, repeated, and 
 improved upon, for a series of years, will furnish the 
 young mind with a treasure of the most valuable and sub- 
 lime knowledge, and must, with the divine blessing, give 
 it a east toward the virtuous side, which it must at least 
 find some difficulty in getting the better of in afterlife. 
 
 For any man to put himself at the head of a place of 
 education, who is not tolerably qualified for explaining the 
 nature and obligations of morality, and who has not some 
 critical knowledge of Scripture, is intolerable arrogance 
 and wickedness. And that teacher of youth, who does 
 not consider the forming of the moral character of his pu- 
 pils as the great and indispensable part of his duty, has 
 not yet learned the first principles of his art. 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 149 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Intention and Method of Education. Concurrence of the 
 Parents necessary. 
 
 THE sooner a bo) r is sent from home for his education, 
 the better. For though the parents themselves should be 
 abundantly capable of judging of, and resolute enough to 
 keep up a proper conduct to the child, which is very sel- 
 dom the case, yet there will always be enough of silly re- 
 lations coming and going, and of visitants flattering and 
 humouring him in all his weaknesses ; which, though 
 they be entertaining, as indeed every thing is from a pretty 
 child, ought without all question to be eradicated as soon 
 as possible, instead of being encouraged. The very ser- 
 vants will make it their business to teach him a thousand 
 monkey tricks, and to blame the parents for every reproof 
 or correction they use, though ever so seasonable* and ne- 
 cessary* 
 
 It is surprising that ever a question should have been 
 made, whether an education at home or abroad was to be 
 chosen. In a home education, it is plain, that the advan- 
 tage arising from emulation, the importance of which is 
 not to be conceived, must be lost. It is likewise obvi- 
 ous, that by a home education youth misses all the advan- 
 tage of being accustomed to the company of his equals, 
 and being early hardened by the little rubs he will from 
 time to time meet with from them, against those he must 
 lay his account with meeting in life, which a youth, who 
 goes directly out of his mother's lap into the wide world, 
 is by no means prepared to grapple with, nor even to bear 
 the sight of strange faces, nor to eat, drink, or lodge dif- 
 ferently from the manner he has been used to at his father's 
 house. A third p-reat disadvantage of a home education, 
 is the missing a number of useful and valuable friendships 
 a youth might have contracted at school, which, being 
 begun in the innocent and disinterested time of life, often 
 hold through the whole of it, and prove of the most im- 
 portant advantage. The sooner a young person goes from 
 the solitary state of home into the social life of a place of 
 education, the sooner he has an opportunity' of knowing- 
 what it is to be a member of society, of seeing a differ- 
 
150 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Cncc between a right and a wrong behaviour, of learning 
 how to conduct himself among his equals, and in short 
 the sooner he is likely, under proper regulations, to be- 
 come a formed man. 
 
 The view of education is not to carry the pupils a great 
 length in each different science ; but only to open their 
 minds for the reception of various knowledge, of which 
 the first seeds and principles are to be planted early, while 
 the mind is flexible, and disengaged from a multiplicity of 
 ideas and pursuits. Those seeds and principles are after- 
 wards tD be cultivated by the man when grown up, and, 
 by means of constant diligence and application, may be 
 expected, through length of time, to produce the noblest 
 and most valuable fruits. From hence it is evident, what 
 constitutes the character of a person properly qualified for 
 being at the head of the education of vouth. Not so much 
 a deep skill in languages only, or in mathematics only, or 
 in any single branch of knowledge, exclusive of the rest ; 
 but a general and comprehensive knowledge of the various 
 branches of learning, and the proper methods of acquiring 
 them, with clear and just notions of human nature, of mo- 
 rals, and revealed religion. 
 
 The most perfect scheme that has yet been found out, 
 or is possible for the whole education of youth, from six 
 years of age and upwards, is where a person, properly 
 ^qualified, with an unexceptionable character for gentleness 
 of temper and exemplary virtue, good breeding, knowl- 
 edge of the world, and of languages, writing, accounts, 
 book-keeping, geography, the principles of philosophy, 
 mathematics, history, and divinity, and who is disengaged 
 from all other pursuits, employs himself and proper as- 
 sistants, wholly in the care and instruction of a competent 
 number of youth placed in his own house, and under his 
 own eye, in such a manner, as to accomplish them in all 
 the branches of useful and ornamental knowledge, suitable 
 to their ages, capacities, and prospects, and especially in 
 the knowledge of what will make them useful in this life, 
 and secure the happiness of the next. 
 
 There is no one advantage in any other conceivable 
 plan of education which may not be gained in this, nor any 
 one disadvantage that may not be as effectually avoided in 
 this way as in an v. If there is any thins: s:ood in a child, 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 151 
 
 it may, in this method of education, be improved to the 
 highest pitch ; if there is any thing bad, it cannot be long 
 unknown, and may be remedied, if it is remediable ; if a 
 child has a bright capacity, there is emulation, honour, and 
 reward, to encourage him to make the best of it ; and if his 
 faculties be low, there are proper methods for putting him 
 upon using his utmost diligence ; and there is opportunity 
 to give him private assistance at by-hours, to enable him 
 to keep nearly upon a footing with others of his age. In 
 such a place of education, the master has it in his power, 
 by assiduity and diligence, to make the highest improve- 
 ments upon the youth under his care, both in human and 
 divine knowledge ; and, by a tender and affectionate treat- 
 ment of them, may gain the love, the esteem, and the obe- 
 dience due to a parent rather than a master. Such a place 
 of education is indeed no way different from another pri- 
 vate house, only, that instead of three or four, or half a 
 dozen children, there may be thirty or forty in a family. 
 Instead of an indulgent parent, who might fondle or spoil 
 the youth, there is at the head of such an economy, an im- 
 partial and prudent governor, who, not being biassed by 
 paternal weakness, is likely to consult, in the most disin- 
 terested manner, their real advantage. Having no other 
 scheme in his head, nor any thing else to engage his 
 thoughts, he is at liberty, which few parents are, to bestow 
 his whole time upon the improvement of the youth under 
 his care. Having no other dependence for raising himself 
 in life, he is likely to apply himself in good earnest to do 
 whatever he can for the advantage of the youth, and bis 
 own reputation ; as knowing that, though foundations, ex- 
 hibitions, fellowships, and preferments, will always draw 
 pupils to public schools and universities, it is quite other- 
 wise with a private place of education, which must depend 
 wholly upon real and substantial care and visible improve- 
 ment of the youth ; and that a failure of these must be the 
 ruin of his credit and fortune. And suppose a competent 
 set of duly qualified teachers employed in such a place of 
 education, it is plain, that there is no part of improvement 
 to be had at any kind of school, academy, or university, 
 which may not be taken in, and carried to the utmost 
 length, the pupils are capable of, according to their age 
 and natural parts. 
 
152 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 This is indeed, in the main, the great Milton's plan of a 
 place oi education to carry youth from grammar quite to 
 the finishing of their studies. In which the very circum- 
 stance of a person's being brought up under the same au- 
 thority from L.hhdhood to mature age, is of inestimable 
 advantage. When a child is first put to a Billy old woman 
 to learn to read, or rather murder his book, what a number 
 of bud habits docs he acquire, all which must afterwards 
 be unlearned ? When from thence he is removed to a 
 public, or boarding school, with what contempt does he 
 look back upon his poor old mistress, and how saucily 
 does he talk of her ? The case is the same, when he is re- 
 moved from the school to the university. Then my 
 voung master thinks himself a man, finds himself at his 
 own disposal, and resolves to make use of that liberty, 
 which no person ought to be trusted with before years of 
 discretion. .And the consequences are generally seen to 
 answer accordingly. But a youth, who has been brought 
 up from childhood to ripe age, under the same person, 
 supposing him properly qualified, acquires in time the af- 
 fection and the sense of authority of a son to a parent, 
 rather than of a pupil to a master, than which nothing can 
 more, or so much contribute to his improvement in learn- 
 ing, or to the forming of his manners. 
 
 Whether there are not some particulars in the very con- 
 stitution and plan of certain places of education, that may 
 be said to be fundamentally wrong, I shall leave to better 
 judgments, after setting down a few queries on the 
 subject. 
 
 Whether the most perfect knowledge of two dead Ian. 
 guages is, to any person whatever, let his views in life be 
 what they will, worth the expense of ten years study, to 
 the exclusion of all other improvements ? 
 
 Whether, in order to a thorough knowledge of Latin 
 and Greek, there is any real necessity for learning by rote 
 a number of crabbed grammar rules? And whether the 
 same method which is commonly used in teaching French 
 and Italian, (in which it is notorious that people do actu- 
 ally acquire as great, or rather a greater mastery) would 
 not be as effectual, and incomparably more compendious, 
 for acquiring a sufficient knowledge of Latin or Greek? 
 \ mean, only learning to decline nouns and verbs, and a 
 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. ]53 
 
 tew rules of construction, and then reading books in the 
 language. 
 
 Whether the superfluous time, bestowed in learning 
 grammar rules, would not be much better employed in 
 writing, arithmetic, elements of mathematics, or other im- 
 provements of indispensable use in life ? especially as it 
 may be farther asked, 
 
 Whether the neglect of the first principles of those va- 
 luable parts of knowledge, till the more tractable years of 
 youth are past (all for the sake of Latin and Greek,) is not 
 in experience found to be a great and irreparable loss to 
 those who have been educated in that imperfect method ? 
 And whether they do not find it extremely hard, if not im- 
 possible, in afterlife, to acquire a perfect knowledge of 
 what they were not in early youth sufficiently grounded in? 
 
 Whether the time spent in making Latin themes and 
 verses is not wholly thrown away ? Whether E?iglish peo- 
 ple do not commonly acquire a very sufficient knowledge 
 of French and Italian, without ever thinking of making 
 verses in those languages ? Whether putting a youth, not 
 yet out of his teens, upon composition of any kind, is at 
 all reasonable ? Whether it is not requiring nim to pro- 
 duce what, from his unripe age and uninformed judgment, 
 is not to be supposed to be in him, I mean thought ? 
 Whether the proper employment of those tender years is 
 not rather planting than reaping ? Whether therefore it 
 would not be a more useful exercise to set a youth of fif- 
 teen to translate, paraphrase, comment upon, or make ab- 
 stracts from the productions of masterly hands, than to 
 put him upon producing any thing of his own ? 
 
 Whether any knowledge of the learned languages, be- 
 sides being qualified to understand the sense, and relish 
 the beauties, of an ancient author, be of any use ? and 
 whether the making of themes or verses does at all contri- 
 bute to that end "? 
 
 Whether, in a seminary of learning, where some hund- 
 reds of youth are together, it is by any human means pos- 
 sible to prevent their corrupting one another, undistin- 
 guished and undiscovered? Whether it is by any human 
 means possible to find out the real characters, the lauda- 
 ble or faulty turns of disposition in such a number of 
 youth, or to applv particularly to the correction or en- 
 
 U 
 
154 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 couragcment of each fault or weakness, as they may re- 
 spectively require?* 
 
 It is not to be expected that the business of education 
 should go on to purpose, unless parents resolve to allow 
 a gentleman, properly qualified for the important trust to 
 be reposed in him, such an income as may be sufficient to 
 enable him to carry on his scheme without uneasiness and 
 anxiety, to support proper assistants, and to furnish him- 
 self with books, and the other apparatus necessary for the 
 improvement of the youth under his care. 
 
 There is no danger of rewarding too well the person 
 whose faithful diligence has, by the divine blessing, made 
 your son a scholar, a virtuous man, and a christian. That 
 the gentlemen who employ, or rather wear themselves out, 
 in the laborious work of the education of youth, do but 
 too generally meet with narrow and ungrateful returns, is 
 evident from this demonstration, that so few of them are 
 seen to reap such fruits of their labours, as are sufficient to 
 put them in easy, much less affluent circumstances, when 
 old age comes upon them, while fiddlers, singers, players, 
 and those who serve at best only to amuse, and often to 
 debauch us, wallow in wealth and luxury. — And yet, with- 
 out reserve, and without disparagement, be it spoken, there 
 is not a more valuable member of society, than a faithful 
 and able instructor of youth. 
 
 Nor is it to be expected that the education of youth 
 should succeed properly, if parents will thwart every mea- 
 sure taken by a prudent master for the advantage of a child, 
 taking him home from time to time, interrupting the 
 course of his studies, and pampering and fondling him in 
 a manner incompatible with the economy of a place of edu- 
 
 * Whoever is in doubt about the subjects of the foregoing- queries, may read, 
 for settling his judgment, the following Authors, viz. Hor. Lib. I. Sat. x. upon 
 the absurdity of making verses in a foreign language. Mr. Loch's '1'reat. of 
 Educat. in various places, particularly page 305, on the absurdity of putting 
 youth upon making themes and verses. Gtmley upon that of fatiguing them 
 with a needless Heap of grammar rules. To which, add the authorities of Ta- 
 naquil Faber, Mr. Clark, Milton, Carew, the Governors of the Princes of the 
 Royal blood of France, Roger Aschani, Esq. Latin preceptor to Queen Eliza- 
 i-et'h, and others quoted at large by Mr. Philips, formerly preceptor to his Roy- 
 al Highness the Duke of Cumberland, in his Compendious Method of teaching 
 languages, printed 1750. And if these be not enough to condemn the labori- 
 ous trifling commonly used in certain places of education, let Mr. Waller, JM- 
 dison, Pope, and many other able mc« who have writ on the subject, be con- 
 sulted. * 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 155 
 
 cation, whereby a child must be led to conclude, that it 
 is an unhappiness to be obliged to be at school ; that it is 
 doing him a kindness to fetch him home, to keep him in 
 idleness, to feed him with rich food, and high sauces, and 
 to allow him to drink wine, and, to keep such hours for 
 eating and sleeping as are unsuitable to his age. Did pa- 
 rents but consider, that a child's happiness depends not at 
 all upon his being indulged and pampered ; but upon 
 having his mind easy, without hankering after what he does 
 not know, and will never think of, if not put in his head by 
 their improper management of him; and that the more he 
 is humoured in his childish follies, the more wants, and, 
 consequently, the more uneasiness he will have ; did pa- 
 rents, I say, consider this, they would not give themselves 
 and their children the trouble they do, only to make both 
 unhappy. 
 
 I have heard of a mother, who humoured her son to that 
 pitch of folly, that, upon his taking it into his head, that it 
 would be pretty to ride upon a cold surloin of beef, which 
 was brought to table, she gravely ordered the servant to 
 put a napkin upon it, and set him astride in the dish, that 
 he might have his fancy. And of another, who begged 
 her little daughter's nurse to take care, of all things, that 
 the child should not see the moon, lest she should cry 
 for it. 
 
 If parents will, in this manner, make it a point, never, 
 even in the most necessary cases, to oppose the wayward 
 wills of infants, what can they expect, but that peevish- 
 ness and perverseness should grow upon them to a degree, 
 that must make them unhappy on every occasion, when 
 they meet with proper treatment from more reasonable 
 people? The youth, who, at his father's table, has been 
 used to eat of a variety of dishes every day, than which 
 nothing is more pernicious to any constitution, old or 
 young, will think himself miserable, when he comes to the 
 simple and regulated diet of a boarding school ; though 
 this last is much more conducive to health. He, who has 
 been used to do whatever he pleased at home, will think 
 it very grievous to be controuled, when he comes to a 
 place of education. The consequence of which will be, 
 that his complaints will be innumerable, as his imaginary 
 grievances. Where the truth will not seem a sufficient 
 
156 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 foundation for complaining, lies and inventions will be call- 
 ed in ; for youth have very little principle. They will be 
 listened to by the fond parent. The number of them will 
 increase, upon their meeting encouragement. The edu- 
 cation of the child, and his very morals, will in this man- 
 ner be hurt, if not ruined. — This isnot theory ; but expe- 
 rienced and notorious fact. The weakness of parents in 
 this respect docs, indeed, exceed belief. And unhappily, 
 the best people are often most given to this weakness, 
 having minds the most susceptible of tenderness and 
 affection, and of the most easy credulity. This weakness 
 appears in all shapes, and produces all kinds of bad effects. 
 It is the case of parents overlooking the most dangerous 
 and fatal turns of mind in their children, till the season 
 of correcting them be past ; of indulging them in the very 
 things they ought to be restrained in ; of their hating those 
 who endeavour to open their eyes to the faults of their 
 children; of listening to their groundless complaints against 
 their masters ; of restraining and hampering them in the 
 discharge of their duty to their children ; and of ungrate- 
 fully imputing to the master's want of care the failure of 
 their children's improvement in what nature has denied 
 them capacities for ; at the same time, that they know 
 other youths have made proper improvements under the 
 same care ; and cannot with any colour of reason suppose 
 a prudent master so much his own enemy, as to neglect 
 one pupil, and use diligence with another. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Process of Education from four Years of Age, to the fn- 
 ishing of the Puerile Studies and Exercises. 
 
 FROM the age of four to six, a healthy child of good 
 capacity may learn to read English distinctly according to 
 the spelling and points. The propriety of emphasis and 
 cadence must not be expected at so early an age. With- 
 in {h is period likewise, he maybe introduced into the ru- 
 diments of Latin, and may learn to decline by memory 
 a set of examples of all the declinable parts of speech. 
 
 If I did not think some knowledge in the Latin language 
 absolutely necessary to any person, whose station raises 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 157 
 
 him above the rank of a working mechanic, I should not 
 recommend it. Notwithstanding what has been said by 
 many against the necessity of any knowledge of Latin, 
 I must own, I cannot see that an English education can 
 be begun upon any other foundation. Without grammar, 
 there can be no regular education. And the grammar of 
 one language might as well be learnt as another, the sci- 
 ence being in the main the same in all. It is very well 
 known, that most of the European languages are more 
 Latin than any thing else. And what more thorough 
 method is there of letting a person into the spirit of a lan- 
 guage, than by making him early acquainted with the ori- 
 ginal roots, from whence it is derived ? As great part of 
 the Latin arises from the Greek, some judicious persons 
 have thought it best to begin with that language. 
 
 Upon the whole, one would think, no parent should 
 wish his son brought up in so defective a manner, as to be 
 at a stand at a Latin phrase in an English book, or a say- 
 ing of an ancient author mentioned in conversation, which 
 must be very often met with by any man who reads at all, 
 or keeps company above the very lowest ranks of life. 
 
 From the age of six to eight, his reading may be con- 
 tinued and improved, his principles of Latin reviewed from 
 time to time, and he may be employed in reading such ea- 
 sy books as Corderius, and some of Erasmus" 1 Colloquies 
 with an English Translation. 
 
 About this age likewise, children may be taught to read 
 a little French, a language which no gentleman, or man 
 of business can be without. After they have gone through 
 Boi/er's Grammar and learned by memory a set of exam- 
 ples of verbs regular and irregular, and common phases, 
 they may read a little collection lately published, called, 
 Recueildes auteus Francois, printed at Edinburgh. Les 
 avantures de Gil Bias, Le diable boiteux, Les avantures 
 de Telemaque, ' Les comedies de Moliere, and Les trage- 
 dies de Racine, are proper books for youth to read for 
 their improvement in French. They must likewise prac- 
 tise translating into French, and speaking the language. 
 
 From eight to twelve years of age, they may be em- 
 ployed in the same manner, and may besides be introduced 
 to such Latin authors as Justin, Cornelius Nepos, Eu- 
 tropins, Phcedrus, and the like. There is likewise a pretty 
 
158 OF KNOWLEDGE* 
 
 collection lately published, entitled, Selecta Latina Sef-, 
 mortis Exemplaria, &c. very proper for the lower classes. 
 Ovid is an author usually put into the hands of youth about 
 this age. But for my part, I do not think any thing of 
 his, besides his Fasti, at all lit for the young and unprin- 
 cipled mind. His obscenities and indecencies will, I hope, 
 be readily given up. And the bulk of his other writings 
 are either overstrained witticisms, bombastic rants, or 
 improbable and monstrous fictions; none. of which seem 
 proper for laying a good foundation in the young mind for 
 raising a superstructure of true taste; rational goodness ; 
 and a steady love of truth. 
 
 From twelve years of age to sixteen or eighteen, that 
 is, to the finishing of the education, properly so called ; 
 for a wise man never finishes his inquiries and improve- 
 ments till life itself be finished ; in the beginning of this 
 period, I say besides carrying on and improving the above, 
 a youth ought (and not much before according to my judg- 
 ment) to be entered into writing, and soon after into arith- 
 metic, and then to read a little of the elements of geom- 
 etry. Writing requires some degree of strength of mus- 
 cle, and of sight ; and numbers and the elements of geom- 
 etry, some ripeness of judgment, which are not to be 
 found in the ^eneralitv of vouth before twelve vears of 
 age. 
 
 The neglecting too long the first principles of geome- 
 try, and the knowledge of numbers, is found in experi- 
 ence to be very prejudicial; as a person, whose mind 
 comes once to be full of various ideas, and eager after 
 different pursuits, as those of most people are by sixteen 
 oreighteen, can hardly b)' any means bring himself to apply 
 to any new branch of knowledge, of which he has not 
 had, in the young and tractable years of life, some prin- 
 ciples. Mathematics, to one who has had no tincture of 
 that sort of knowledge infused into his mind in youth, will 
 be a mere terra incognita ; and therefore too disagreeable 
 and irksome to be fever pursued by him with any consid- 
 erable success. The case is by experience found to be the 
 same with respect to languages, and every other com- 
 plex or extensive branch of knowledge ; which gave occa- 
 sion to the great Mr. Locke to observe, that " the taking 
 a taste of every sort of knowledge is necessary to form tbp 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 159 
 
 mind, and is the only way to give the understanding its 
 due improvement to the full extent of its capacity." 
 
 * Books proper for learning the elements of geometry, 
 some think Pardie's an easy introduction- Simpson's ge- 
 ometry is a very elegant compend. BuPCunn's or Simp- 
 soo's Euclid is the best book for a young beginner. Of 
 the higher parts of mathematics I shall speak afterwards. 
 
 Abotit the age of twelve it will be proper for a youth to 
 enter on the Greek language. From the small Westmin- 
 ster Grammar (which is as good as any) he may go on to 
 read the New Testament, and from thence to sundry Col- 
 lections^ and Isocrates, or Demosthenes, Plato, and Homer. 
 
 I know no occasion a youth can have to be obliged to 
 get any thing by memory in learned or foreign languages, 
 except the declensions of a set of examples, a few phrases, 
 and rules of construction, which last may be learned in 
 English. The memory may be, to much greater advan- 
 tage, furnished with what may be of real use in life, than 
 with crabbed grammar rules, or with heaps of Latin or 
 Greek verse. As to making Latin or Greek themes or 
 verses, I Mould as soon have a son of mine taught to dance 
 on a rope. But of this enough. 
 
 From the Latin authors above-mentioned, a youth of 
 parts, may, about fourteen and fifteen, and onwards, be 
 advanced to Virgil, Salust, Terence, Livy, Tully, with 
 select parts of Horace (for many parts of that author ought 
 not to be in print,) and so on to Tacitus, Juvenal, and 
 Persius. 
 
 One of the best school books extant is a small collec- 
 tion lately published, printed for L. Hawes, in Paternos- 
 ter-Row. which I could wish enlarged to the extent of a 
 volume or two more, collected with equal judgment. It 
 is entitled, Selects ex profanis scriptorihus histories. 
 This may be read by youth from ten years of age and up- 
 wards ; and would be very proper to make translations 
 from, for improving them at once in orthography, in writ- 
 ing, in stile, and sentiment. If they Mere to speak such 
 versions, corrected by the master, by way of orations, be- 
 fore their parents, I should think the end of improving 
 
 • The Books now used in our Colleges and other seminaries of learning 
 in the various branches of science, are so changed since the time of Burgh, 
 that we propose saying something of them at the endof the volume. — Publiziitr. 
 
1G0 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 their elocution and giving them courage to speak in public, 
 might be thereby much better attained, than by their being 
 taught either to act plays in a dead language, or to rant in 
 a theatrical manner English tragedies. To speak a grave 
 speech with proper grace and dignity may be of use in 
 real life. The rant of the stage can never be used off the 
 stage. And practising it in youth has often produced 
 very bad effects. 
 
 I know no necessity for a youth's going through every 
 classic author he reads. There are parts in all books less 
 entertaining than others. And perhaps it might have a 
 good effect to leave off some times where the pupil shows 
 a desire to go on, rather than fully satiate his curiosity. 
 
 When youth come to read Horace, Livi/, and such au- 
 thors, they may be supposed capable of entering a little 
 into the critical beauties of the ancients, and of writing in 
 general. It will be of great consequence, that they be 
 early put in the right way of thinking with respect to the 
 real merit of the ancients, their excellencies, which may 
 properly be imitated, their faults to be avoided, and defi- 
 ciencies to be supplied. Of which more fully afterwards. 
 
 Pope^s Essay on Criticism, may with success be com- 
 mented upon. From which, as it takes in the principal 
 rules laid down and observations made by the writers be- 
 fore him, as well as his own, may be drawn a general view 
 of the requisites for a well written piece. The principles 
 of this knowledge, early planted in the mind, would be of 
 great use in leading people to form their taste by some clear 
 and certain rules drawn from nature and reason, which 
 might prevent their praising and blaming in the wrong 
 place ; their mistaking noisy bombast for the true sub- 
 lime ; a stile holding forth more than is expressed, for the 
 dull and unanimated ; bigness, for greatness ; Whining for 
 the pathetic ; bullying for the heroic ; oddity for terror ; 
 the barbarous for the tragical ; farce for comedy ; quaint 
 conceit, pert scurrility, or affected cant, for true wit ; and 
 so forth. The beauty and advantage of method ; the 
 force of expression suited to the thought ; the causes of 
 perspicuity or confusion, in a writer, the peculiar delicacy 
 in the turn of a phrase ; the importance or insignificancy 
 of a thought, the aptness of a simile ; the music of a ca- 
 dence in prose 3 and measure in verse ; the liveliness of 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 161 
 
 description ; the brightness of imagery ; the distinction 
 of characters'; the pomp of machinery ; the greatness of 
 invention" ; the correctness of judgment; and I know not 
 how many more particulars, might with success be en- 
 larged upon in teaching youth about fifteen years of age, 
 and upwards. 
 
 When a youth has acquired a readiness at writing and 
 numbers, he may learn the beautiful and useful art of 
 book-keeping according to the Italian method. Though 
 this piece of knowledge is more immediately useful for 
 traders, it ought not to be neglected by any person what- 
 ever. Many an estate might have been saved, had the 
 owner of it known how to keep correct accounts of his in- 
 come and expenses. Were there only the beauty and 
 elegance of this art to recommend it, no wise parent 
 would let his son be without what may be so easily ac- 
 quired. The best system of book-keeping, and the brief- 
 est, is Webster's. 
 
 About fourteen or fifteen years of age a youth of parts 
 may be instructed in the use of the globes, which will re- 
 quire his having the terms in geography, and many of those 
 used in astronomy, explained to him. To this may be 
 joined an abridgement of the ancient and present state of 
 nations, commonly called ancient and modern geography. 
 The best books on the use of the globes, are Harris'' and 
 Randal's Geographv,or Gordon 's Geographical Grammar; 
 which, with Uubfier's Compend, and Wells'' Geographia 
 Classica, will be sufficient to introduce the pupil to a ge- 
 neral notion of ancient and modern geography. A set of 
 maps ought to be turned to, and the pupil taught to' un- 
 derstand the manner of constructing and using them. 
 
 The knowledge of the surface of our globe, and the pre- 
 sent state of nations, is necessary and useful for men of all 
 ranks, orders, and professions. The statesman can have 
 no distinct ideas of the interest and connexions of foreign 
 nations ; the divine no clear conception of Scripture or ec- 
 clesiastical history, nor the merchant of the voyages his 
 ships are to make, the seats of commerce, and means of 
 collecting its various articles ; nor indeed the private gen- 
 tleman bear a part in common conversation, without un- 
 derstanding the situations, distances, extent, and general 
 state of kingdoms and empires. In a word, he, who does 
 
 X 
 
162 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 not know geography, docs not know the world. And it is 
 miserable, that a gentleman should know nothing of the 
 world he lives in, but the spot, in which he was born. 
 
 Algebra is a science of admirable use in solving ques- 
 tions seemingly inexplicable. I would advise that every 
 youth of fortune and parts have a tincture of it about this 
 period of life. Hammond's, Simpsoti's and Maclauriri's 
 treatises are proper to be made use of in teaching it. 
 
 About the same age, youth may be led into a general 
 knowledge of chronology, or of the principal eras and pe- 
 riods of the world, and of the outlines of universal historv. 
 This cannot be better done, than by reading them lectures 
 upon the Chart of the Universal History, lately published, 
 showing them, at the same time, upon the terrestrial globe, 
 and in maps, the situation and extent of kingdoms and 
 empires. The chronological tables in the twenty-first 
 volume of the Universal History may be consulted by those 
 who would descend to more minute particulars in teaching 
 youth the knowledge of chronology. 
 
 About the age of sixteen or eighteen, a youth of good 
 parts may learn just so much of logic as may be useful for 
 leading him to an accurate and correct manner of thinking, 
 and judging of such truths as are not capable of mathe- 
 matical demonstration. The Aristotelian method of rea- 
 soning in mood and figure might be proper, if the ideas 
 we affix to all words were as precise as those of a right 
 line, a surface, or a cube. But so long as we neither have- 
 in our own minds at all times, nor much less can com- 
 municate to those we converse with, the same invariable 
 ideas to the same words, we must be content, if we 
 mean either to receive or communicate knowledge, to re- 
 cede a little from the rigid rules of logic, laid down by the 
 Burgersdykes and the Scheiblers, which always hamper, 
 and often mislead the understanding. 
 
 For the purpose of putting young persons in the way of 
 reasoning justly, Dr. Watts' Logic may with success be 
 read and commented on to them, and some of the easiest 
 and most fundamental parts of Mr. Locke's Essay on Hu- 
 man Understanding. After which some parts of the writ- 
 ings of some of the closest reasoncrs in morals may be 
 examined, and the force of the arguments shown, to lead 
 the pupil to the imitation of their manner. Such writers 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 163 
 
 as Dr. Clarke, Woollaston, and Bishop Butler, author of 
 the Analogy, will be proper for this purpose. It may also 
 be useful to show how subtle men imperceptibly deviate 
 from sound reason, and lead their readers into fallacies. 
 The works of Hobbcs, Morgan, and Hebrew Hutchinson, 
 may, among innumerable others, be proper examples to 
 show, that the semblance of reason may be, where there is 
 no substance. 
 
 It would be of great advantage to youth, if they could, 
 as a part of their education, have an opportunity of seeing 
 a course of experiments, at first exhibited by Desaguliers, 
 JV/uston, and others. They would there learn, in the 
 _ most entertaining and easy manner, the grounds, as far as 
 known, of the noble science of physiology. And in seeing 
 a regular series of experiments, and observations, in me- 
 chanics, hydrostatics, pneumatics, optics, astronomy, che- 
 mistry, and the like, would have their curiosity raised to 
 the highest pitch, and would acquire a taste for knowl- 
 edge, which might not only lead them, in afterlife, to pur- 
 sue their own improvement in the most valuable ways, but 
 likewise might, by furnishing an inexhaustible fund of 
 entertainment, supply the continual want of taverns, plays, 
 music, or other less innocent amusements, to fill up their 
 vacant hours. For it is only the want of something 
 within themselves to entertain them, that drives people to 
 routs, rackets, or masquerades, to the fatal waste of time 
 and money, and the utter perversion of the true taste 
 of life. 
 
 A person who understands this kind of knowledge, with 
 the help of a very few instruments, as a telescope, a mi- 
 croscope, an air pump, and a pair of Mr. JVeaPs patent 
 globes, may go through the grounds of this sort of knowl- 
 edge, following the method given by Mr. Martin in his 
 philosophical grammar (guarding against his errors) to 
 the great entertainment and improvement of a set of pupils. 
 
 Dancing, fencing, riding, music, drawing, and other 
 elegant arts and manly exercises, may, according to the 
 circumstances of parents, and genius of children, be car- 
 ried greater or shorter lengths. For a person, whose edu- 
 cation has fitted him for being a useful member of society, 
 according to his station, and for happiness in a future state, 
 may be said to have been well brought up, though he 
 
164 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 should not excel in these elegancies. And it is not such 
 frivolous accomplishments as these that will make a man 
 valuable, who has not a mind endowed with wisdom and 
 virtue. Above all things, to make the mere ornaments of 
 life, the employment of life, is to the last degree prepos- 
 terous. 
 
 It is evidently of advantage, that a young gentleman be, 
 from his infancy almost, put into the way of wielding his 
 limbs decently, and coming into a room like a human crea- 
 ture. But I really think it more eligible, that a youth be 
 a little bashful and awkward, than that he have too much 
 of the player or dancing master. Care ought therefore to 
 be taken, that he do not learn to dance too well. The 
 consequence will probably be, that, being commended for 
 it, he will take all opportunities of exhibiting his perform- 
 ance, and will in time become a hunter after balls, and a 
 mere dangler among the ladies. 
 
 The same caution ought to be used with respect to 
 music. It is true, there are very few of the good people 
 of England, who have so much true taste, as to be capa- 
 ble of excelling in that alluring and bewitching art. But 
 there are instances of the bad effects of cultivating it too. 
 much. 
 
 So much of the riding school as is useful and necessary, 
 there is nothing to be said against it. But it is deplorable 
 to see many of our gentry study the liberal science of joek- 
 eyship to the neglect of all the rest. 
 
 Fencing, if practised to such a degree as to excel at it, 
 is the likeliest means that can be contrived for getting a 
 man into quarrels. And I see not, that the running a fel- 
 low-creature through the body, or having that operation 
 performed upon one's self, is much the more desirable 
 for its being done secundum artem. Yet whoever wears 
 a sword, ought to know somewhat of the art of hand- 
 ling it. 
 
 Drawing is an ingenious accomplishment, and does not 
 lead directly to any vice that I know of. It may even be put 
 upon the same footing with a taste for reading, as a sober 
 amusement, which may lead a young gentleman to love 
 home and regular hours. But it is far from being friendly 
 to the constitution. Like all sedentary employments which 
 engage the attention, it is prejudicial to the health, espe- 
 
 \ 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 165 
 
 cially where oil colours are used, which is not indeed a- 
 necessary part in drawing. It likewise fixes and strains 
 the eyes, and, in small work, fatigues them too much to 
 be pursued to any great length with safety. At the same 
 time, to know perspective, and the other principles of the 
 art, and to have such a command of the pencil, as to be 
 capable of striking out a draught of an object, or View, not 
 so much with delicacy as whh strength, swiftness, and 
 fluency, is an accomplishment very ornamental, and often 
 useful. 
 
 I will conclude this section with the following remark, 
 That there is this difference between the conduct of educa- 
 tion, and the improvement of the mind afterwards, that in 
 education, the view' being to open the mind to all kinds of 
 knowledge, there is no absurdity in carrying on several 
 studies together, nor in passing from one to another, before 
 the pupil arrives at great perfection in the first ; on the- 
 contrary, in maturity, the view being not to learn the first 
 principles (which are supposed to have been studied in 
 youth) but to acquire a perfect knowledge of subjects, it 
 is then improper to pursue many different studies at once, 
 or to give over one, and proceed to another, till one has 
 carried the former a competent length. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Of many Studies. Of a Method of acquiring a competent 
 Knowledge of the Sciences. Of proper Books tnd Appa- 
 ratus. 
 
 BEFORE a young gentleman sets about any particular 
 study, supposing his puerile education finished, he may 
 prepare himself for more manly improvements, by a care- 
 ful perusal of the following books, which will give him a 
 general view or map of science, viz. The Preface to 
 Chambers' Dictionary. Clark's Method of Study. Bos- 
 wel's Method of Study. Locked Conduct of Human Un- 
 derstanding. Watts' Improvement of the Mind. Baker's 
 Reflections on Learning, (an ingenious work, except upon 
 the subject of Astronomy and Philosophy, where the 
 author has bewildered himself miserably.) TFootton's 
 
166 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Reflections on Ancient and Modern Learning, RoUbi's 
 Belles Lettivs. 
 
 Nothing; will beof more consequence towards the suc- 
 cess of a young gentleman's endeavours for his own im- 
 provement, than his getting early into a right track of read- 
 ing and study : for by that means he will save infinite 
 trouble, which man}- go through, by beginning at the. 
 wrong end; who after distressing themselves in pursuing 
 they have not the necessary accomplishments lor, 
 find themselves obliged to give up what they had under- 
 taken, and go back to first principles. Men thus suffer 
 great loss of time and labour; meet with discouragement 
 in their studies ; and the structure of learning which they 
 raise, proves in the end but a piece of patchwork. Others, 
 by being at first put upon a wrong course of reading, find 
 themselves plunged into mystery, fanaticism, or error of 
 one kind or other ; out cf which it costs them many years 
 to extricate themselves. Others, attachingthemselvestoo 
 early and too closely to one narrow track, as pure mathe- 
 matics, or poetry, cramp their minds in their youth; or, 
 by giving too great a loose to fancy, unfit them for expa- 
 tiating boldly, and at the same time surely, in the fields 
 of know ledge. To avoid these radical errors, let a young 
 gentleman carefully study the books above recommended, 
 and, through the whole course of his reading, take all op- 
 portunities of conversing with, and consulting men of 
 judgment in books ; of a large and free way of thinking, 
 and of ex^nsive knowledge. The consequence of which 
 judicious manner of proceeding has, in many instances, 
 been improvement in most branches of science to a mas- 
 terly degree to thirty or forty years of age. But this sup- 
 poses a superior natural capacity, and various other advan- 
 tages. 
 
 Next after such a knowledge of languages, numbers, 
 geometry, geography, chronology, and logic, which may be 
 called instrumental studies, after such a moderate acquaint- 
 ance with these, as may be acquired before eighteen or 
 twenty, youth may proceed to the more manly studies 
 of history, biography, the theory of government, law; 
 commerce, economics, and ethics. 
 
 I mention these together, because there is a connexion 
 between them, which renders them proper to be carried 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 167 
 
 on in succession, as they will mutually assist and throw 
 a light on each other. And I advise a studious youth to 
 improve himself in such branches of knowledge as these, 
 before he proceeds to perfect himself in the higher math- 
 ematics ; first, on account of the incomparably superior 
 importance of a thorough knowledge of our own nature, 
 state, and obligations; the indispensable necessity of under- 
 standing which subjects is such, as to make all our pur- 
 suits appear comparatively but specious trifling. And 
 secondly, because this kind of knowledge is obviously of 
 such a nature, as not to hazard any possible bad effect upon 
 a young mind, which is more than can be said of most 
 other branches of study, indulged to great length. The 
 vanity and affectation which a little unusual knowledge in 
 classical learning gives weak minds, is so conspicuous, 
 as to have occasioned that species of learning to be termed, 
 by way of distinction, pedantic scholarship. And as to 
 mathematics many instances could be produced of men of 
 very fine heads for that science, who, by accustoming 
 themselves wholly to demonstration, have run into an affect- 
 ed habit of requiring demonstration in subjects* naturally 
 incapable of it, and of despising all those parts of study, 
 as unscientifical, which do not give the satisfaction of 
 mathematical certainty. Such persons thus disqualifying 
 themselves for improvement in the most useful parts of 
 knowledge, though eminent in one particular way, may, 
 upon the w r hole, be properly said to be men of narrow- 
 minds. This evil might have been prevented, had they 
 timely given themselves to other inquiries, as well as math- 
 ematics, and been accustomed to apply their minds to 
 various ways of searching into, and finding out truth. 
 But the natural and almost unavoidable effect of confin- 
 ing the mind to one kind of pursuit, is the hampering and 
 narrowing, instead of enlarging and ennobling it. 
 
 At the same time it ought to be remembered, that noth- 
 ing tends so much to habituate to a justness of thought, 
 and accuracy of expression, as a tincture of mathemati- 
 cal knowledge received in youth. All that is here intended 
 to be guarded against is the plunging too deep at first into 
 that studv, which often tends to the exclusion of all others 
 for life. And, as was before observed, no part of useful 
 
108 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 or ornamental knowledge is to be excluded, consistently 
 with a view of a complete improvement of the mind. 
 
 Useful books, previous to the reading of history, are 
 such as the following, viz. JRoI/in's Method of studying 
 History, in his Belles Lcttrcs. . Boussefs Discours de 
 l'Histoirc Universelle. Potter's Greek and Kennefs Ro- 
 man Antiquities, Strauclims' and Helvicus* Chronology, 
 Sleidan on the Four Monarchies, Wheals and Fresneifs 
 Methods of studying History. 
 
 In order to read history with perfect clearness, geogra- 
 phy must go hand in hand. The system of Geography 
 lately published together with Anson's Voyage, which con- 
 tains some new accounts, not in that work. Well's Geo- 
 graphic, Classiea, and Senex's New General Atlas, may 
 be proper to perfect a gentleman in that useful branch of 
 knowledge. 
 
 To be master of ancient history, let a person first peruse 
 carefully the Universal History, consulting all along the 
 maps of the several countries which have been the scene 
 of action, and referring every character and event to its 
 proper date. After this general view of the whole bodv of 
 ancient history, those who have leisure, and other aelvan- 
 tages, may read as many of the originals as they please, 
 especially upon the more important characters and facts. 
 They are all along cjuoted by the compilers of the above 
 excellent anel useful work. Those who possess the learned 
 languages, in which those originals were writ, find in the 
 perusal of them a peculiar pleasure even where the facts re- 
 lated are already known. There is a purity and beautiful 
 simplicity in the descriptions the ancients give, which dis- 
 cerning readers do not find in the works of translators or 
 compilers. Besides that, the very circumstance of the 
 mind's letting itself be deceived into the belief, that we 
 reael the very words of an ancient warrior, or orator, though 
 it is certain, those we have ascribed to them by historians, 
 are for the most part put into their mouths by the histo- 
 rians, themselves ; the mind's persuading itself, that it 
 hears the very words and accents of an illustrious charac- 
 ter in antiquity, makes the perusal of an original peculiar- 
 lv entertaining and striking. 
 
 Gentlemen of leisure and fortune especially, ought In 
 nn means to be without a little acquaintance with Heroao 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 169 
 
 tos, Thurydides, Polybius, Xcnophon, Diodorus Siculus* 
 and Plutarch, the most celebrated Greek historians ; nor 
 with Justin, Livy, Tacitus, Casar, Sallust, Suetonius, 
 and Curtius, the greatest among the Romans. 
 
 Some of the best modern histories, are Puffendorff^s In- 
 troduction, Hume and Smollefs History of England, Meze- 
 ray's and Daniel's of France, Mariana's of Spain, VertoVs 
 of Portugal, Sir Paul Ricaufs of the Turks, Oakley'' s of the 
 
 Saracens, DuHalde's of China; of the Piratical States 
 
 of Barbary, Robertson's of America, History of the Con- 
 quest of Mexico, of Germany, of Naples, of Florence^ 
 by Machiavel ; of Venice, by JVamand Paruta; of Genoa, 
 of Poland, by Connor ; of Holland, of Flanders, by itew- 
 tivoglio. 
 
 To read history with advantage, keep constantly in view 
 the following ends ; to find out truth ; to unravel if possi- 
 ble, the grounds of events, and the motives of actions ; to 
 attain clear ideas of remarkable characters, especially of 
 that which distinguishes one character from another ; to 
 profit by the various useful lessons exhibited ; to study 
 human nature, as represented in history, and to endeavour 
 to find out which characters you yourself resemble the 
 most ; and to remark whatever throws any light or evidence 
 upon religion. 
 
 To draw up in writing an epitome or abstract of the 
 most shining parts of history and eminent characters, as 
 one proceeds, adjusting the chronology and geography all 
 along, will contribute greatly to the fixing in the mind a 
 general comprehensive view of the whole thread of story 
 from the oldest accounts of time downward, disposed ac- 
 cording to the several ages and countries which make a 
 figure in history. But this will require leisure to execute 
 it properly. Among the abridged facts might, with great 
 advantage be disposed a sect of reflections, moral, political, 
 and theological, as they occurred in the course of reading, 
 which would in the whole amount to a very great number 
 and variety ; and would prove an agreeable and improving 
 amusement in advanced life, to peruse, add to, and correct, 
 according as one's judgment matured, and views enlarg- 
 ed. A man of leisure and abilities might, in his collec- 
 tion of historical remarks, unite together in one view what- 
 ever characters seemed to have anv resemblance, might 
 
 y 
 
170 of knowledge; 
 
 set against one another such as, by making striking con- 
 trasts, might set oft' one another to the best advantage. 
 He might observe the different conduct of the same per- 
 son at different times, and account, from the different cir- 
 cumstances he was engaged in, for those differences, in 
 his behaviour. He might observe how one, of perhaps 
 the best abilities, was unhappily led into such a course of 
 conduct as has blasted his reputation ; how another, by 
 missing certain advantages, fell short of the character, 
 which, by a happy coincidence of circumstances he must 
 have attained. How seemingly inconsiderable particulars 
 in the conduct of princes and great men, have produced 
 strange effects in the affairs of mankind, and what moment- 
 ous consequences to the rest of the world depend upon 
 the behaviour of those who are at the head of it. 
 
 History is the key to the knowledge of Human Nature. 
 For in it we see what sort of beings our fellow creatures 
 are, by reading their genuine characters in their actions. 
 These a person, who carefully studies history, may trace 
 up to their source, and pursue and unravel all the wonder- 
 ful disguises, doublings, and intricacies of the human 
 heart. Life, as it is generally conducted by persons oJ 
 all stations, but especially of the highest, appears from 
 history, in its true colours, as a scene of craft, of violence, 
 of selfishness, cruelty, folly, and vanity. History shows 
 the real worth of the usual objects of the pursuits of man 
 kind ; that there is nothing new under the sun ; nothing to 
 be wondered at ; that mankind have been from the begin- 
 ning bewildered and led from their real happiness, and 
 the end of their being, after a thousand visionary vanities, 
 which have deluded and disappointed them from genera- 
 tion to generation, and are likely to do so to the last. 
 
 What can be moFe entertaining or instructive, than in 
 history to trace this world of our's through its various 
 states ; observe what sort of inhabitants have possessed it, 
 in different periods ; how different, and yet how much the 
 same ; how nations, states, and kingdoms have risen, flour- 
 ished, and sunk ; the first rise of government, patriarchal, 
 monarchial, republican; what characters have appeared in 
 different ages, eminent for virtue, or infamous for wicked- 
 ness ; to what seemingly slight causes the most important 
 events have been owing j the arts, by which one man has 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 171 
 
 been able to subdue millions of his fellow ereatures, and 
 to tread on the neck of mankind; the motives which have 
 put men upon action; and the weaknesses which have 
 been the cause of the baffling of their schemes ; the force 
 of human passions, the weakness of reason, the influence 
 which prejudices and attachments have on the conduct of 
 men, the surprising heights to which virtue has raised some 
 men, the difficulties conquered, the honours gained, and 
 the lasting fame acquired by a disinterested love of their 
 country, the madness on which ambition, covetousness, 
 and love of pleasure have driven men ; and through the 
 whole, the influence of the unseen Providence disappoint- 
 ing the counsels of the wise ; weakening the power of the 
 mighty ; putting down one, and raising another up ; and 
 working out its own great and important ends, by the 
 weakness, the power, the virtue, the wickedness, the wis- 
 dom, and the folly of mankind. 
 
 History is the great instructor for all ranks in life, but 
 especially the highest. For those who are besieged and 
 blocked up by triple guards of flatterers, (whose chief care 
 and great interest it is above all things to prevent the ap- 
 proach of truth) in history may see characters as great, or 
 greater than their own, treated with the utmost plainness. 
 There the haughty tyrant may see how a JVero was spoke 
 of behind his back, though deified by the slavish knee of 
 flattery. Thence he may judge how he himself will be 
 spoken of by historians, who will no longer dread his men- 
 ace after his head is laid in the dust. Thence he may 
 judge how his character is perhaps now treated in the anti- 
 chamber of his own palace, by the very sycophants whose 
 servile tongues had, the moment before, been lavishing 
 the fulsome and undistinguished applause on his worst 
 vices, which they had sanctified with the title of princely 
 virtues. History will faithfully lay before him his vari- 
 ous and important duty (for the higher the rank, the more 
 extensive the sphere of duty to be performed) which those, 
 who come into his presence, dare not, or oftener will not, 
 instruct him in. There he will see the original of the in- 
 stitution of government, and learn, that power is given 
 into the hands of one for the advantage of die many; not, 
 according to the monstrous doctrine of tyranny and slaver}-, 
 the manv made for one. There he will learn everv hon- 
 
172 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 est art of government, and ean be engaged in no difficult 
 circumstance, of which he will not find an example, and 
 upon which he may not learn some useful instruction for 
 governing mankind. For the human species have been 
 from the beginning very much the same, and generally 
 capable, by wise laws, strictly executed, by a judicious 
 police universally prevailing, and by the powerful example 
 of persons in high rank, of being governed and managed 
 at the pleasure of able and politic princes. There he will 
 see the difference between the real glory of a Titus, or an 
 Alfred, and the horrible barbarity of a Philip or a Lexvis. 
 He may set his own character and actions at the distance 
 of a few centuries, and judge in his own mind, whether he 
 will then appear in the light of a devourer of his fellow 
 creatures, or of the father of his people ; of a wise and ac- 
 tive monarch, or of a thing of shreds and patches ; of an 
 example to mankind of every sublime virtue, or a general 
 corrupter of manners. History is the grand tribunal, be- 
 fore which princes themselves are, in the view of all man- 
 kind, arraigned, tried, and, often with the greatest freedom 
 as well as impartiality, condemned to everlasting infamy. 
 And though it is the mark of a trulv sreat mind to dare 
 to be virtuous at the expense of reputation ; it is a proof 
 of a soul sunk to the lowest baseness of human nature, to 
 bear to think of deserving the contempt or hatred of all 
 mankind, the wise and good, as well as the unthinking 
 and worthless. 
 
 There is not indeed a lesson in the whole compass of 
 morals, that is not in the most advantageous and pleasing 
 way, to be learned in history and biography, taking in an- 
 cient and modern, sacred and profane. There the mad- 
 ness of ambition appears in a striking light. The dread- 
 ful ravages produced with that wide wasting fury, when- 
 ever she has possessed the frantic brain of a hero, and 
 sent him, like a devouring fire, or an overflowing inun- 
 dation, spreading destruction over the face of the earth ; 
 tlje numbers of the innocent and helpless, who have, in 
 the different ages of the world, been spoiled and massa- 
 cred, to make one fellow worm great ; the human heca- 
 tombs, which have been offered to this infernal demon ; 
 the anxious hours of life, and the violent deaths, to which 
 unthinking men have brought themselves, by the egregi- 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 173 
 
 ous folly of flying from happiness in pursuit of the phan- 
 tom of a name ; the extensive and endlessly various views, 
 which history exhibits, of the fatal consequences of this 
 vice ought to teach the most inconsiderate the wisdom of 
 contentment, and happiness of retirement. 
 
 In history we see the most illustrious characters, for 
 that worth, which alone is real, the internal excellence of 
 the mind, rising superior to the mean pursuit of riches, 
 dignifying and sanctifying poverty by voluntarily embrac- 
 ing it. From thence we cannot help learning this im- 
 portant lesson ; That the external advantages of wealth, 
 titles, buildings, dress, equipage, and the like, are no 
 more to the man, than the proud trappings to the horse, 
 which add not to his value, and which we even remove 
 before we can examine his soundness, and which may be 
 put upon the stupid ass, as well as the generous steed. 
 
 The contrast we find in history between those nations 
 and particular persons, who studied temperance and ab- 
 stinence, and those whose beastly luxury renders them 
 infamous to posterity, ought in all reason to convince the 
 readers of history of the advantage of living agreeably to 
 the Dignity of Human Nature. The spontaneous and 
 voluntary approbation, which the heart immediately gives 
 to virtue, where passion and prejudice are out of the wa\ 
 (as is the case where we consider the character of those who 
 have been buried a thousand years ago,) seems to be the 
 voice of God within the mind, calling it to the study and 
 practice of whatever is truly laudable. Why docs not every 
 prince judge of himself with the same impartiality as he 
 does of the Casars ? Why does a private person indulge 
 himself in vices, which all mankind, and even himself, 
 abhor in a Sardanapalus, or Heliogabalus ? 
 
 It would be easy to write a book, as large as this whole 
 work, upon the moral advantages of the study of history. 
 But to proceed : 
 
 The writers of ecclesiastical history may be as prop, 
 erly mentioned here, as any where else, viz. JEusedius, Soc- 
 rates, &fc. Cave's Lives of the Fathers; Dapin's Ecclesias- 
 tical History ; Histories of the Councils ; Bower's History 
 of the Popes ; Chandler's of the Inquisition ; S teuton's 
 History of the Reformation in Germany ; Brandt's in tfce 
 
1J4 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Low - Countries i ltuchat\ in Switzerland; and Burnet s in 
 England. To which add Winston? s Sacred History ; JW- 
 fin's Remarks on Ecclesiastical History ; and Mos/iei?n\ 
 lately published work. 
 
 Biography is a species of history, with this peculiar- 
 ity, that it exhibits more minutely the characters, and 
 sets forth to view some which are too private for history, 
 but which are not on that account less worthy of being; 
 known, but perhaps more so than those which, being more 
 exposed, were more disguised and affected, and conse- 
 quently more remote from nature, the knowledge of which 
 ought to be the object in view. There is no sort of read- 
 ing more profitable than that of the lives and characters of 
 wise and good men. To find that great lengths have been 
 actually gone in learning and virtue, that high degrees of 
 perfection have been actually attained by men like our- 
 selves, entangled among the infirmities, the temptations, 
 the opposition from wicked men, and the other various 
 evils of life ; how does this show us to ourselves as utterly- 
 inexcusable, if we do not endeavour toemulate the heights 
 we know have been reached by others of our fellow crea- 
 tures. Biography, in short, brings us to the most inti- 
 mate acquaintance with the real characters of the illus- 
 trious dead; shows us what they have been, and conse- 
 quently what we ourselves may be ; sets before us the 
 whole character of a person who has made himself emi- 
 nent either by his virtues or vices ; shows us how he 
 came first to take a right or wrong turn ; how he after- 
 wards proceeded greater and greater lengths; prospects 
 which invited him to aspire to higher degrees of glory, or 
 the delusions which misled him from his virtue and his 
 peace ; the circumstances which raised him to true great- 
 ness, or the rocks on which he split and sunk to infamy, 
 And how can we more effectually, or in a more entertain- 
 ing manner, learn the important lesson, what we ought to 
 pursue, and w hat to avoid. 
 
 Besides Plutarch, Cornelius JS'epos, Suetonius, and the 
 rest of the ancient biographers, the moderns are to be 
 consulted. The General Dictionary, continued by the 
 writers of Biographia Britannica, is a vast treasure of this 
 kinel of knowledge. One cannot propose to pertise tho- 
 roughly such voluminous works. They are only to have 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 175 
 
 a place in a gentleman's library, and to be turned to at 
 times, and select parts to be read and digested. 
 
 A general insight into the theoretical part of govern- 
 ment, and law, seems necessary to the complete improve- 
 ment of the mind. This may be best acquired by a care- 
 ful attention to history, which shows the original of gov- 
 ment; its necessity and advantage to the world, when 
 properly administered ; its corruptions and errors; changes 
 and revolutions ; ruin and subversion, and their causes. 
 This is the proper science of a gentleman of eminent 
 rank, who has weight and influence in his country. 
 
 Proper helps for this study are the following, viz. 
 
 Bacon, Locke, and Sidney, on Government ; Harring- 
 ton's and Sir Thomas Morels Works ; Grotius on the 
 rights of War and Peace ; Puffendorjf's Law of Nature 
 and Nations, with Barbeyrac's Notes ; Milton's Political 
 Works, which are to be read with large allowances, for 
 his zeal for the party he was engaged in ; Sir William 
 Templet Works ; Castiglione's Courtier ; Rymer's Fce- 
 clera ; Wood's Institutes; L? Esprit des Loix ; DomaVs 
 Civil Law ; and The Statutes abridged. 
 
 The theory of commerce is closely connected with the 
 foregoing. It is a subject highly worthy the attention of 
 any person, who would improve himself with a general 
 and extensively useful knowledge; and for persons in 
 eminent and active stations is indispensably necessary. 
 Those who have any concern with the legislature, and those 
 who are at the head of cities and corporations, if they be 
 deficient in knowledge of the interests of trade, are want- 
 ing in what is their proper calling. Every person who has 
 either vote or interest in choosing a representative in 
 parliament, ought to make it his business to know so 
 much of the commerce of this country, as to know how. 
 and by whom, it is likely to be promoted or discouraged. 
 And if all was rightly regulated, it is to be questioned if 
 any one ought to be an elector, who could not make a 
 tolerable figure in the house, if not as a speaker, at least as 
 a voter. 
 
 To acquire some general understanding of the theory of 
 trade and commerce, a gentleman may with advantage, 
 use the following books, viz. Postlethxv alters Dictionary 
 of Trade and Commerce; The British Merchant ; Sir 
 
176 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Josiah Child on Trade ; Urtariz's Theory of Trade and 
 Commerce ; Universal Library of Trade and Commerce ; 
 The Merchant's Map of Commerce ; Locke on Trade 
 and Coin ; Lex Mercatoria Rediviva ; Oldenburgh's Ste- 
 vens' and Lockyer's Pieces on Trade and Exchange ; 
 Davenant on Trade and Revenues ; Gee on Trade ; Tracts 
 by Mr. Tucker of Bristol ; and Anderson's History of 
 Commerce. 
 
 But whoever, from a view to public good, would per- 
 fectly understand the present state of the commerce of 
 these kingdoms, as it is continually varying and fluctua- 
 ting, he cannot expect to have a just account of it by any 
 other means than the informations of those actually engag- 
 ed in it. 
 
 A gentleman may afterwards read the works of those 
 writers who have treated of the human nature and facul- 
 ties, their extent and improvement, in a speculative or 
 theoretical way. After having studied history, he will be 
 qualified to judge whether such authors treat the subject 
 properly or not ; and will be capable of improving and 
 correcting their theory from the examples of real charac- 
 ters exhibited in history. 
 
 Mr. Locke's Essay on The Human Understanding is 
 the foundation of this sort of knowledge. There is no 
 good author on the subject who has not gone upon his 
 general plan. His conduct of the understanding is also a 
 work worthy of its author. The great Bishop Butler, 
 author of the Analogy, in some of his sermons, which 
 might be more properly called philosophical discourses, 
 has with much sagacity corrected several errors of the 
 writers on this subject, on the theory of the passions, and 
 other particulars. The works of Hutcheson of Glasgow 
 may be perused with advantage. He is both, on most 
 points, a good reasoner and an elegant writer. Besides these 
 authors, and others, who have written expressly on this 
 subject, many of whom have said good things ; but have 
 run into some indisputable pecularities of opinion, on ac- 
 count of which I do not choose to recommend them : be- 
 sides these, I say, the writings of almost all our celebrated 
 English divines and moralists contain valuable materials 
 on this subject. 
 
 The inimitable authors of the Spectator, Tatler, and 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 177 
 
 Guardian, have displayed the whole of human life in all 
 the shapes and colours it appears in. These admirable 
 essays may be read as a ground- work of economics, or the 
 knowledge of the arts of life. 
 
 There would be no end of giving a list of books on this 
 head. — The few following are some of the best, viz. The 
 Rule of Life in Select Sentences, from the Ancients ; 
 Apophthegms of the Ancients; Mason's Self Knowledge ; 
 Charron on Wisdom ; Bacon's, Collier"** and Montaigne's 
 Essays; Fuller's Introduction to Wisdom and Prudence; 
 The Moral Miscellany ; The Practical Preacher ; and The 
 Plain Dealer, in 2 vols. 
 
 Of all parts of knowledge, which may be properly term- 
 ed scientific, there is none, that can be so ill dispensed 
 with by a gentleman, who would cultivate his mind to the 
 utmost perfection, as that of ethics, or on the grounds of 
 morality. The knowledge of right and wrong, the obliga- 
 tions and consequence of virtue, and the ruinous nature 
 and tendency of vice, ought to be perceived by every well- 
 cultivated mind in the most clear and perfect manner pos- 
 sible. But of this most important branch of science, and 
 what is very closely connected with it, viz. Revealed Reli- 
 gion^ I shall treat in the two following books. 
 
 The best ancient moralists are Plato, Aristotle, Epicte* 
 tus,Hierocles, Xenophon,A5sop, Plutarch, Cicero, Seneca 
 Antoninus. Among the moderns, besides those men- 
 tioned under other heads, and besides our best divines, as 
 Barrow, Tillotson, and the rest, the following are excellent 
 moral treatises, viz. Woolaston's Religion of Nature Delin- 
 eated ; Grove's System of Morality ; Balguifs Tracts ; 
 Cudtvorth's Immutable and Eternal Morality ; Cumberland 
 de Legibus. Add to these, Glover's, Campbell's, and 
 Nettleton's Pieces on Virtue and Happiness ; Wilkins on 
 Natural Religion ; Fiddes on Morality ; The Minute Phi- 
 losopher ; and Paschal 's Thoughts. But no writer, an- 
 cient or modern, on this subject, exceeds, in closeness of 
 reasoning, Price's Review of Morals, lately published. 
 
 Of all studies, none have a more direct tendency to 
 aggrandize the mind, and consequently, none are more suit- 
 able to the Dignity of Human Nature, than those which 
 are included under the general term of physiology, or the 
 knowledge of nature, as astronomv, anatomv, botany. 
 
 Z 
 
178 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 mineralogy, and so on. The study of nature appears in no 
 light so truly noble, and fit to ennoble the human mind, as 
 when compared with those of the works of men, as criticism, 
 antiquities, architecture, heraldry, and the like. In the for- 
 mer, all is great, beautiful and perfect. In the latter, the 
 subjects are all comparatively mean and defective. And 
 whatever is otherwise, owes its excellencies to nature, as 
 in poetry, painting, sculpture, and so forth. The first 
 leads us to know and adore the greatest and most perfect 
 of beings. The last, to see and regret our own weakness 
 and imperfection. 
 
 The system of nature is the magnificent palace of the 
 King of the universe. The ignorant and incurious, to 
 use the comparison of a great philosopher, is as a spider, 
 which retires into some dark corner, and wraps itself in its 
 own dusty cobweb, insensible of the innumerable beauties 
 which surround it. The judicious inquirer into nature, 
 in contemplating, admiring, and moralizing upon the 
 works of its infinite Author, proves the justness of his own 
 understanding, by his approbation of the perfect produc- 
 tions of an infinite perfect Being. 
 
 The sneers of superficial men, upon the weakness which 
 has appeared in the conduct of some inquirers into nature, 
 ought to have no influence to discourage us from those 
 researches. If some few have spent too much time in the 
 study of insects, to the neglect of the nobler parts of the 
 creation, their error ought to suggest to us not a total neg- 
 lect of those inferior parts of nature; but only to avoid 
 the mistake of giving ourselves wholly to them. There 
 is no species, which infinite Wisdom has thought worthy 
 making, and preserving for ages, whose nature is not 
 highly worthy of our inquiring into. And it is certain, 
 that there is more of curious workmanship in the struc- 
 ture of the body of the meanest reptile, than in the most 
 complicated, and most delicate machine, that ever was or 
 will be constructed by human hands. 
 
 To gain the great advantage which ought to be kept in 
 view, in inquiring into nature, to wit, improvement of the 
 mind, we must take care to avoid the error of some, who 
 seem to have no scheme but the finding out a set of mere 
 dry facts, or truths, without ever thinking of the instruc- 
 tion which mav be drawn from the observations made. 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 179 
 
 An inquiry into nature, (says the above eminent author, 
 who himself went as great lengths as aiw one ever did in 
 that study) who carries his researches not farther than the 
 mere finding out of truths, acts a part as much beneath 
 him, who uses philosophy to lead him to the knowledge of 
 the Author of Nature, as a child who amuses himself with 
 the external ornaments of a telescope, is inferior to the 
 astronomer, who applies it to discover the wonders of the 
 heavens. 
 
 The truth is, a man may be a great astronomer and phy- 
 siologist, and yet by no means a truly great man. For 
 mere speculative knowledge alone will not make a great 
 mind, though joined with the other necessary endow- 
 ments, it gives the proper idea of an accomplished char- 
 acter. Sir Isaac Newton, Mr. Boyle, and those who, 
 like them, look through nature up to nature's God, can 
 alone be said to have pursued and attained the proper end 
 of philosophy, which can be no other way of any real ser- 
 vice to moral agents, than in so far as it has proper moral 
 effects upon them. 
 
 It is strange that any man can think of the several won- 
 ders of nature, as the two extremes of stupendous great- 
 ness and inconceivable minuteness, the immense variety 
 and wonderful uniformity, frightful rapidity, and yet unva- 
 rying accuracy, of motions ; the countless numbers, and 
 yet ample provision, the simplicity of causes, and variety 
 of effects, and the rest, and not be irresistibly led to think 
 of the Maker and Governor of such a glorious work ! 
 How can men think of a globe twenty-five thousand miles 
 round, as the earth we inhabit is known to be, without 
 thinking of the hand which formed this mighty mass, and 
 gave it a figure so regular, as we see it has by its shadow 
 cast upon the moon in a lunar eclipse, without adoring 
 Him, who could as it were, roll the stupendous heap be- 
 tween his hands and accurately mould it into shape ? But 
 if astronomers are right, in calculating the magnitude of 
 some of the other planets to exceed many hundred times 
 this on which we live, and the sun himself to be equal to 
 a million of earths, whose figure we observe to be perfect- 
 ly regular ; what can we think of the eye which could 
 take in, and the hand which could form into regular shape, 
 such cumbrous masses? If we consider this unwieldy 
 
180 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 lump of matter on which we live, as whirling round the 
 sun in a course of between four and five hundred millions 
 of miles in a year, and consequently, sixty thousand in 
 one hour, a rapidity exceeding that of a cannon ball just 
 discharged, as much as that does the speed of a hor.se ; 
 cm we avoid reflecting on the inconceivable might of the 
 arm which brandished it, and threw it with a force pro- 
 p riioned to such a rapidity "? One v ^uld think those who 
 best understand the laws of motion, and the exactness 
 necessary in adjusting the two fold forces which produce 
 a circular or eliptical revolution round a centre, should 
 be the properest persons to set forth the wonders of Divine 
 Wisdom, which has exhibited such instances of skill in 
 the motions of our earth, and other planets round the sun, 
 and in the compounded motions of satellites or moons 
 round them. 
 
 "Who can survey the countless myriads of animalcules, 
 which with the help of the microscope are visible in almost 
 all kinds of fluids, when in a state tending to putrefaction, 
 without thinking on the Almighty Author of such a pro- 
 fusion of life ? When some grains of sand, some small 
 cuttings of human hairs, or any other body, whose real 
 size is known, are put into a drop of one of those fluids 
 which exhibit animalcules, it appears evident to any eye, 
 that a grain of sand must be equal to the size of some 
 millions of them. — For the grain. of sand appears a body 
 of a great many inches solid, while the whole fluid seems 
 filled with living creatures, even then (when so enormously 
 magnified) too small to be distinguished : I mean at pre-- 
 sent the smallest species of animalcules, for the most infu- 
 sions exhibit a great variety of sizes — Two or three times 
 the number of the inhabitants of London, Westminster^ 
 and Southivark crowded into the bulk of a grain of sand ! 
 Every one widi an organized body, consisting of the vari- 
 ous parts necessary to animal life ! What must then be the 
 size and particles of the fluid, which circulates in the veins 
 of such animals ? What the magnitude of a particle of 
 light, to which the other is a mountain ? 
 
 These few particulars are thus cursorily mentioned, only 
 for the sake of an opportunity of remarking upon the ockl- 
 ness of the cast of some minds, which can spend years 
 in examining such wonders of nature, going through the 
 
• OF KNOWLEDGE. 181 
 
 calculations necessary to determine facts, and yet stop 
 short of the reflections so natural upon making the dis- 
 covery, and for the sake of which alone, one would think 
 it was worth while to have bestowed the pains. For it is 
 really of very little consequence to us to know the exact 
 proportion between the magnitude of a grain of sand 
 and an animalcule in pepper- water ; the wonderful regu- 
 larity of the motions of all the great bodies in nature, 
 describing equal areas in equal times ; the amazing prop- 
 erties of light and colours ; and the means by which vision 
 is performed, and the like : it is, I say, of very little con- 
 sequence to know a number of facts which obtain in nature, 
 if we never consider them farther tha 1 1 as dry uninterest- 
 ing facts, nor think of applying our knowledge of them 
 to some purpose of usefulness for life or futurity. 
 
 The invitations to acquire a general knowledge of anat- 
 omy are innumerable. An animal body is indeed a sys- 
 tem of miracles. The number of various parts adapted 
 to such various uses ; the structure of the bones, as the 
 supporters of the whole frame ; the number and apt inser- 
 tion of the muscles, for performing the various motions 
 of the body with ease and gracefulness ; the endless vari- 
 ety of vessels, tubes and strainers, gradually lessening to 
 imperceptibility, with the fluids circulating through them, 
 and, secreted by them, for the various purposes of nature, 
 which render the body of an animal a system in which a 
 greater number of streams are continually flowing, than 
 those which water the largest kingdoms upon earth, or, 
 more probably, than all that run in all the channels round 
 the globe. 
 
 The eye alone, that miracle of nature, is a study for 
 life ! We find how difficult it is to form and adjust a set of 
 glasses for any compound optical instrument. Yet glass 
 is a solid substance, which will keep the form that is once 
 given it. But the eye must be considered as a composi- 
 tion of various coats or pellicles, of three different humours 
 and a set of muscles, to alter the form of those humours, 
 and the aperture of the eye, instantaneously, according 
 to the situation, or distance, brightness or obscurity, of 
 the object to be viewed ; at the same time, that the whole 
 mass of the eye is to be considered as a system in which 
 there are innumerable streams continually flowing. Now 
 
18^ OF KNOWLEDGE.* 
 
 .is we know, that in order to distinct vision, the laws of 
 optics require the figure of the eye to be strictly true and 
 regular ; that it should continue lit for vision for a few mo- 
 ments together, considering of what soft and pliable sub- 
 stance it is made, and how continually changing its figure 
 and state, is what we can in no respect give an account of. 
 How delightful is the search into these wonders ! How 
 naturally does it lead the well disposed mind to love and 
 adore the Almighty Author of so excellent a work! 
 
 There is indeed none of the works of nature, down to 
 the most common and contemptible (if any thing could 
 be so called, which infinite Wisdom has deigned to make) 
 that is not found, when attentively examined, to be, for 
 curoisity of structure, above the apprehension of any hu- 
 man mind. What is meaner, or more common than a 
 pile of grass ? Yet, whoever with a miscroscope, examines 
 its various parts, will find it a work of such curiosity, as to 
 deserve his highest admiration. In the blade he will find 
 a double coat throughout, between which, the vessels which 
 convey the juices to nourish it, are disposed. The mi- 
 nuteness of those tubes decreases to imperceptibility. Nor 
 do the same vessels carry and return the juices. There 
 are in every plant, and consequently in every pile of grass, 
 two kinds of vessels, analogous to the veins and arteries 
 in an animal body, by means of which a circulation of the 
 juices is performed. The blade is also furnished with 
 excretory vessels to carry off by perspiration whatever 
 juices may be taken into the plant, which may be super- 
 fluous, or unfit for its nourishment, and with absorbent 
 vessels, at whose orifices nourishment is taken in from 
 the ambient air, as well as from the earth by the root. 
 The blade is always furnished with a strong fibrous sub- 
 stance running up its middle, and tapering to a point, for 
 supporting and strengthening it. The substance of the 
 roots of ail plants, is quite different from the other parts, 
 in outward form and internal structure. It isso in grass. 
 Every single tendril is furnished with vessels, at whose 
 open mouths the proper juices enter, which, as they mount 
 upwards, are secreted, so that those which are proper for 
 each respective part, are conveyed to it ; and the other par- 
 ticles, by means of valves and other contrivances within 
 the vessels, are stopped and turned back. The substance 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 183 
 
 of the root itself is of three sorts, the cortical, or bark, 
 the woody part, and the pith. Each of these has its ves- 
 sels or passages, differently disposed, and of a different 
 size and make, as the microscope shows. The seed it- 
 self is a miracle of curiosity. For in every single grain 
 the stamina of the future plant, or rather of the plant itself 
 in miniature, is disposed so that the growth of the plant is 
 only the unfolding of the stamina, and their enlargement 
 by the addition of new juices. If the opinion of some 
 naturalists be well founded, viz. that in the stamina con- 
 tained in a seed, there are also contained the stamina of 
 the plant which is afterwards to spring from that, and so 
 on for ever, this increases the wonder infinitely. It is like- 
 wise observed, that almost every plant, if cut off above the 
 root, will send out new branches, leaves, and seeds al- 
 most endlessly. So that it would seem, that every stock 
 of every plant, and consequently every stalk of grass, as 
 well as every seed, contained almost an infinite number of 
 other plants, branches, leaves, and so forth, in miniature. 
 But I will not urge this too far, because there is another hy- 
 pothesis, which does not require such inconceivable mi- 
 nuteness of stamina, nor their beingthus disposed one with- 
 in another, without end, from the creation of the first plant : 
 I mean, the supposition of those stamina floating in the 
 air, in infinite numbers, and being received into proper 
 matrices, and so fructifying. Be this as it will, there are, 
 as we have seen, wonders without end in so despicable an 
 object as a pile of grass. After all that has been said, there 
 may, for any thing we know, be a thousand times more 
 unknown of the internal substance or structure of a pile of 
 grass. We know not how two particles of matter come 
 to adhere to one another, why they do not fall asunder like 
 grains of dust or sand. We know not how the particles 
 of nourishment are taken into the vessels of the root of a 
 plant ; how they are carried on and secreted every one to its 
 proper place ; what it is in the make of the particles of the 
 juice, and effluvia exhaled from the root and blade, which 
 makes them taste or smell differently ; what disposition 
 of the external parts makes the root part appear white, 
 and the blade green, and so on. Yet this subject, in 
 which there are so many curiosities known to us, and 
 enough of inexplicable difficulties to puzzle all the philoso- 
 
184 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 phers of ancient and modern times is no rarity, but it is 
 every where to be met with. The whole earth is covered 
 with it. Whilst every single pile, of which there may be 
 some thousands in every square foot of ground, is formed 
 with all the admirable curiosity and exactness I have been 
 here describing. What then is the art displayed in all 
 the various and numberless plants of different species 
 which cover the face of the earth ? What the profusion 
 of workmanship in the innumerable multitudes of beasts, 
 birds, fishes, and insects, which inhabit all parts of the 
 earth and waters ; of which every single individual dis- 
 plays wonders of inexpressible power and inconceivable 
 wisdom beyond number ? " Great and manifold are thy 
 works, O "Lord, in wisdom hast thou made them all." 
 If a person has a strong genius for mathematical learn- 
 ing, it will be natural for him to improve himself in the 
 higher parts of that noble science, as plain and spherical 
 trigonometry, conic sections and fluxion^. But it does 
 not appear to me absolutely necessary to the idea of a well 
 improved mind, that a person be master of those abstruse 
 parts of mathematics. On the contrary, I know not 
 whether the employing a great deal of time in those parts 
 of science, which are rather sublime and curious, than 
 useful in life, can be justified; at least, where a person 
 has a capacity for improving himself and others in useful 
 knowledge. On the other hand, it must be owned, that 
 the- exercising the genius in the most difficult parts of 
 study, is not without its uses, as it tends to whet the capa- 
 city, and sharpen the faculties of the mind, which may, 
 for any thing we know, be of advantage to it, in fitting it 
 for the sublime enjoyments of a future state. Add to 
 this, that it is not always easy to say what is altogether 
 useless in science. What has been at its first discovery 
 looked upon as a mere curiosity, has often been found af- 
 terwards capable of being applied to the noblest uses in 
 science, and in life. This has been experienced in no in- 
 stance more frequently than in the discovery of mathe- 
 matical proportions. Those of triangles were discovered 
 before they were found to be of such important usefulness 
 in mensuration and navigation ; and those in common 
 geometry, in trigonometry, conies, and fluxions, before 
 they were applied to astronomical calculations. Nor 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. J 85 
 
 can any one pronounce with certainty, that those which 
 have not yet been applied to any direct use for improving 
 science, or art, never will, or are. capable of it. Upon 
 the whole, the pursuit of any study, however it may seem 
 merely curious, rather than useful, is an employment in- 
 comparably more noble and suitable to the dignity of hu- 
 man life, than those of pleasure, power, or riches. 
 Though this is not saying, that study is the sole business 
 of life, or that it may not be carried lengths inconsistent 
 with our present state. 
 
 For improvement in the higher mathematics, IVolfius' 
 and JFilson's Trigonometry, Mutter's or De la Hire's 
 Conic sections, Ditton's, Simpson's, or Maclaurin's Flux- 
 ions may be studied. 
 
 At last we come to the summit and pinnacle of knowl- 
 edge, the utmost reach of human capacity, I mean the 
 Newtonian philosophy. This sublime of science is what 
 very few, perhaps not six in an age, have been found 
 equal to. The labours of that prodigy of our species ; 
 the calculations and demonstrations upon which he has 
 founded his immortal and impregnable structure, are not 
 to be investigated, but by one possessed of the quickest 
 penetration, the most indefatigable diligence, leisure, and 
 vacancy of mind. There are, for example, some of his 
 problems, which few men can hold out to go through ; 
 few minds being capable of keeping on the stretch for so 
 long a time as is necessary for the purpose. It will there- 
 fore be in vain to advise readers in general to try then- 
 strength in this Achillean bow. It is however, possible 
 to acquire a general idea of his philosophy from Pembcr- 
 ton's and Maclaurin's views of it. They who would go 
 farther, must read his Principia with the Jesuit's Com- 
 ment, and his Optics. 
 
 I will here give a list of books which will make a pretty 
 complete and useful collection upon the various branches 
 of natural philosophy and mixt mathematics. Ray's 
 Wisdom of God in the creation. Derham's Physio-theolo- 
 gy. Nature displayed. Nieuxvertyt's Religious Philo- 
 sopher. Bacon's and Boyle's Works. Lieuwenhowek's 
 Arcana. Adams' Micrographia, and Baker's Employ- 
 ment for the Microscope. Ray's, Ruysch's and Gesner's 
 History of Animals.. Willoghbuy's Omithologia. Swam- 
 
 2 A 
 
186 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 merdam of Insects. Keil's and Gravcsande's Physics. 
 Gravesande's, Desagulicr's and Bowning's ICxperimental 
 Philosophy. Hill's History of Minerals and Fossils. 
 BlackxueWs Herbal. Martin's Philosophical Grammar r 
 and Philosophia Britannica. The tracts whieh give an 
 account of the late discoveries in electricity. Hale's 
 Statics. Cotes' 1 Hydrostatics and Pneumatics. Miscel- 
 lanea Curiosa. Philosophical Transactions abridged, and 
 those of the foreign academies of science. Muschenbroek'% 
 Physical Essays. Keifs, JVinsloiv's and Heister's Anato- 
 my. Monro's Osteology. Boerhaave's CKconomia Ani- 
 malis. Ray, Malphighi, Tournefort, and Sloan on Plants. 
 A"<?//'sand Gregory's Astronomy. Pemberton's andiJ/crc- 
 laurin's Account of Sir Isaac Newton's Discoveries. Sir 
 Isaac's Principia, with the Jesuit's Comment. Dr. Hal- 
 ley's, Huygens' and Flamstead's Works. IF/iisto?i'sRt- 
 ligious Principles of Astronomy. Smith's, Gregory's 
 and Sir Isaac Newton's Optics. Boerhaave's Chemis- 
 try. To which add, Harris' Lexicon Technicum ; Cham- 
 bers' Dictionary ; or the Encyclopedia now publishing. 
 
 A gentleman of fortune and leisure will do well to fur- 
 nish himself with a few of the principal instruments used 
 in experimental philosophy, as an air pump, which alone 
 will yield almost an endless variety of entertainment ; to 
 which add a condensing engine ; a microscope, with the 
 solar aparatus, which likewise is alone sufficient to fill up 
 the leisure hours of a life; a telescope of the Gregorian 
 construction ;* a set of prisms, and other glasses for the 
 experiment in light and colours; a set of artificial mag- 
 nets ; an electrical machine ; and a pair of Mr. Neale's 
 patent globes. 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 Of forming a Taste in polite Learning and Arts. 
 
 TO say, that a gentleman has attained the utmost per- 
 fection of the human genius, who is ignorant of the politer 
 -.ciciices of criticism, poetry, oratory, and antiquities, and 
 
 * The best and Ir.r^est instruments of this kind, beyond comparison, that 
 have ever been nr.de, are those constructed by Mr. Short of Surry*treet, in the 
 
 Strand, Lut..ic\. 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 187 
 
 of the elegant arts of painting, music, sculpture, and 
 architecture, would undoubtedly be improper. And yet 
 it may justly be affirmed, that a very moderate skill in 
 them is sufficient ; as that kind of knowledge is at best 
 only the embellishment, not the substantial excellence of 
 a character. Nor can it be denied, that many, especially 
 men of fortune, do pursue the study of those elegancies to 
 lengths inconsistent with the shortness and uncertainty 
 of life, and with the awful and serious business to be done 
 in it. Solid and useful knowledge, especially among the 
 great, gives way almost entirely to taste. And even of 
 that, a very great part is only affectation and cant, rather 
 than true discernment. In music, for example, I think 
 it must be owned, that there are few civilized nations in 
 which there is so little true taste, as in England ; the 
 proof of which is, the extremely small number of our 
 countrymen and women, who excel either in performance 
 or composition. In France and Italy, on the contrary, 
 and several other countries of Europe, there are very few 
 towns, or even villages, in which there are not some able 
 artists in music. And yet we know, that there is not a 
 country in the world, in which musicians, especially fo- 
 reigners, are so much encouraged as here. This cannot 
 be ascribed to our natural taste for music ; for that would 
 appear in our excelling in the art. It must therefore be 
 owing to an affectation of what we do not possess, which 
 costs us a great many thousands a year, and must yield but 
 very little entertainment. For the pleasure a person re- 
 ceives from music, or any of the other beaux arts, is pro- 
 portionable to the taste and discernment he has in them. 
 
 Perhaps, the same might be said of some other elegan- 
 cies as well as of music. But I shall only in general add, 
 that whoever pursues what is merely ornamental, to the 
 neglect of the useful business of life ; and instead of con- 
 sidering such things only as ornaments and amusements, 
 makes them his whole or chief employment, does not 
 understand, nor act up to the true dignity of his nature. 
 
 On the study of classical learning and antiquities, I can- 
 not help saying, that it is really a matter of no small con- 
 cern, to see men of learning straining beyond all bounds 
 of sense in heaping encomiums on the great writers of an- 
 tiquity, which there is reason to think those great men 
 
188 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 would blush to read. To hear those gentlemen, one would 
 imagine the ancients all giants in knowledge, and the mod- 
 erns, pigmies. Whereas it is much more probable, that 
 the antiquity of the world was its youth, or immature age, 
 and that the human species, like an individual, have grad- 
 ually improved by length of time ; and, having the advan- 
 tage of the inquiries and observations of the past ages, 
 have accordingly profited by them, and brought real and 
 properly scientific knowledge to heights, which we have 
 no reason to imagine the ancients had any conception of. 
 
 The whole advantage antiquity seems to have of the 
 present limes as far as we know, and it would be strange 
 if we should reason upon what we do not know, is in the 
 Avorks of fancy. The style of the ancient orators and poets 
 is perhaps superior to that of any of our productions, in 
 grandeur and in elegance. Nor is it any wonder it should 
 be so. In the popular governments of Greece and Rome, 
 where almost every point was to be gained by dint of elo- 
 quence, and where kings were clients to private pleaders, 
 it was to be expected, that the art of oratory should be 
 cultivated, and encouraged to the utmost. 
 
 The very sound of the Greek and Latin gives the writ- 
 ings in those languages a sweetness and majesty, which 
 none of our feeble, unmusical tongues can reach. How 
 should an English or French poet have any chance of equal- 
 ling the productions of those who wrote in a language 
 which expressed the most common thoughts with more 
 pomp of sound, than our modern tongues will lend to the 
 most sublime conceptions ? 
 
 Ton d'apawcibomenos prosephe podas oiys Ach'rfleus. HoM. 
 
 " The swift footed Achilles answered him." 
 
 Here is more grandeur of sound to express almost noth- 
 ing, than Milton could find in the whole compass, of our 
 language to clothe the greatest thoughts that perhaps ever 
 entered into an uninspired imagination. For what is there 
 in the Iliad, stript of the majesty of the Greek, that can 
 equal the following hymn to the Supreme Being, sung by 
 the first parents of mankind in innocence : 
 
 " These are thy glorious works, Parent of good 
 " Almighty ! Thine this universal frame, 
 •' Thus wondrous fair. Thyself how wondrous then ! 
 " Unspeakable ! who sitt'st above these heav'ns, 
 *• To us invisible, or dimly seen 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 189 
 
 l' In these thv lowest works. Yet these declare 
 
 " Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine' 
 
 <« Speak ye, who best can tell, ye son's of light ! 
 
 " Angels ! for yc behold him, and with songs 
 
 " And choral symphonies, day without night, 
 
 " Circle his throne rejoicing. Ye in heav'n ! 
 
 '-' On earth join all ye creatures to extol, * 
 
 " Him fust, him last, him midst, and without end," &c. 
 
 How would these thoughts shine in Homer's Greek / 
 How would Longinus have celebrated such a passage in a 
 venerable ancient ! How would our Baciers and out Popes 
 have celebrated it ! Let us not therefore be imposed on by 
 sound; but while we pay due praise to antiquity, let us 
 not refuse it to such of the moderns as have deserved it 
 even in those arts, in which the ancients have exhibited 
 their utmost abilities. 
 
 But though it should be confessed, that the ancient poets, 
 orators, and sculptors have in some respect outdone the 
 moderns ; when this is said, all is said, that can with truth 
 be affirmed of their superiority to us. For in most parts of 
 solid science, they were mere children : there physiology 
 is egregious, trifling, and groundless hypothesis, drawn 
 not so much from nature as from fancy. Their theology 
 or mythology is a mixture of sense, mystery, fable, and 
 impurity. Their ethics are well enough for what they 
 have delivered. But it is a structure without connexion, 
 and without foundation. Whoever has studied Woolas- 
 ton's Religion of Nature delineated, will hardly think Aris- 
 totle's Ethics, or Tally's Offices, worth reading, for the 
 sake of improvement in real and scientific knowledge of 
 the foundation and obligations of morality. He who has 
 digested Dr. Clark's noble work, will hardly have recourse 
 to Cicero , Of the Nature of the Gods, for just ideas of 
 the Supreme Being, and a rational scheme of religion. 
 Who would name such philosophers as Plinu, or JElian, 
 with Mr. Boyle, or Mr. Ray ? Who would think of com- 
 paring Aristotle's Logic with Mr. Locke's, or Ptolemy's 
 Astronomy with Sir Isaac Newton's ? There are many 
 whole sciences known in our times, of which the ancients 
 had not the least suspicion, and arts of which they have 
 had no conception. All the discoveries made by those 
 noble instruments, the telescope, the microscope, and the 
 airpump ; the phenomena of electricity ; the circulation 
 pf the blood, and various other discoveries in anatomy ; 
 
190 of knowledge; 
 
 the whole theory of light and colours ; almost all that is 
 known of the laws by which the machine of the world is 
 governed ; the methods of algebra and fluxions ; printing, 
 clocks, the compass, gunpowder, and I know not how 
 many more, are the productions of the industry and saga- 
 city of the moderns. It is therefore very unaccountable, 
 that many studious men should express, on all occasions, 
 such an unbounded and unreasonable admiration of the 
 ancients, merely for the elegancies and sublimities, which 
 appear in their works of fancy, which are likewise dis- 
 graced in many places by a trifling and childish extrava- 
 gance, running often so far into the marvellous, as quite 
 to lose sight of the probable. Witness Virgil's prophet- 
 ical harpies, bleeding twigs, and one-eyed Brobdignagians ; 
 Homer's speaking horses, scolding goddesses, and Jupiter 
 enchanted with Venus' girdle ; and Ovid's string of unnat- 
 ural and monstrous fictions from the beginning to the end 
 of his book ! 
 
 Whoever may be disposed to question what is here said 
 as a peculiar or new notion, may read Mr. Locke on the 
 Conduct of the Understanding, and Wotton's and Baker's 
 Reflections on Ancient and Modern Learning; there he 
 will find the subject discussed in a more copious manner, 
 than the bounds of this treatise would allow. 
 
 It is therefore very necessary, that in cultivating a taste, 
 people take care to value the ancients only for what is truly 
 valuable in them, and not to perfer them, universally and 
 in the gross, to the moderns, who by the advantage of suc- 
 ceeding to the labours of their ancestors, have acquired 
 incomparably the superiority over them in almost all parts 
 of real knowledge drawn from actual observation; in me- 
 thod and closeness of reasoning; in depth of inquiry; in 
 more various ways, as well as more compendious methods 
 of coming at truth; and, in general, in whatever is useful 
 for improving the understanding ; advantages as much 
 superior to what serves only to refine the imagination, and 
 work upon the passion, as it is of more consequence that 
 a man receive improvement in true knowledge, than that 
 lie pass his life in a pleasing dream. 
 
 Besides the ancient historians mentioned under the arti- 
 cle of history, whoever would form'his taste upon the best 
 models, must be in some measure acquainted with the 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 191 
 
 Greek poets, as Homer, Pindar, Sophocles, Euripides, 
 Callimachus, Theocritus, Aristophanes, Anacreon. Their 
 orators, as Demosthenes, Isocrates, and JEschines. The 
 philosophers, whose works in that language are comedown 
 to us, are to be looked into, not so much on account of 
 their sentiments, of which above, as their style and man- 
 ner. The chief of them are, Plato, who also gives an 
 account of the philosophy of Socrates, Aristotle, Xenophon, 
 Plutarch, Epictetus, Longimis, Jamblichus, who gives an 
 account of Pythagoras, Theophrastus, Hierocles, jElian. 
 To these may be added Philo Judceus, Diogenes, Laertius, 
 and Max Tyrius. The greatest ancient philosophers, 
 who wrote in Latin, are Cicero, Pliny, Seneca, Lucre- 
 tius, Quintillian, Lucius Apulcius, and Boethius. The 
 best Latin poets are Virgil, Horace, Terence, Juvenal, 
 Persius, Plautus, Lucretius, Seneca the tragic poet, 
 Martial, Lucan, Statius, Ausonius, and Claudian 
 
 Whoever has a mind to look into the Fathers, after 
 having got a little acquaintance with what is ascribed to 
 Barnabas, Clement, Hermas, Ignatius, and Polycarp, 
 and with the remains of Clemens Alexandrinus, Ireeneus* 
 Cyprian, Tertullian, Justin martyr, Origen, Jerome, Au- 
 gustin, Eusebius, and Lactantius, or as many of them as 
 he can conveniently look into, may rest contented with 
 what he will have gained by that study. 
 
 There may be a few other ancient authors, Greek and 
 Latin, which a gentleman may find his advantage in look- 
 ing into. And there are great parts of most of those here 
 mentioned, which it were better to pass over. There are, 
 almost in all the ancient uninspired writers, numberless 
 exceptionable and wrong-turned sentiments, of which the 
 judicious reader's discernment will obviate the bad effects. 
 
 Useful books in criticism are Hesychius, Suidas, Hed- 
 cricus'' Lexicon, Scapula and Constanti?ie's Lexicon; Ste- 
 phens'' Thesaurus ; Aitiswoj'th's Dictionary ; Potter's 
 Greek, and Rennet s Roman Antiquities ; Montfaucon's 
 Pal(Vographia Graca, and Antiquite Expliquee ; the vari- 
 ous authors collected in Gravius' and Gronovius' The 
 saurus ; in Sallengre]s A'ovus Thesaurus ; in Gruter's 
 Tax Artium ; and a multitude of others enumerated by 
 Wasse in his Memorial concerning the Desiderata in 
 Learning, printed in Bibliotheca Liter aria, Lond. 1122 
 
192 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 No. iii. Among the ancients, Aristotle, Longinus, and 
 Quint Man. Among the French, Dacier and Bossu. And 
 among the English, Addison and Pope are good critics. 
 
 I cannot here help making a remark upon the manner of 
 most of those professed critics, who undertake to trans- 
 late, comment, answer or write remarks upon authors. 
 These gentlemen seem generally to run greatly into ex- 
 tremes either in praising or blaming, i own I cannot 
 persuade myself that Homer, for example, understood the 
 anatomy of the human body as perfectly as Boerhaave, 
 merely from the circumstance of his wounding his heroes 
 ih so many different parts. Nor can I think that Mr. 
 Chambers could have extracted his circle of the arts And 
 sciences out of the Iliad and Odyssey, even with the help 
 of Pope's and Dacier's notes into the bargain. On the 
 other hand, I cannot help thinking that there is some of 
 the genuine spirit of poetry in Sir Richard Blackmore's 
 works, notwithstanding what the satirical Dean Sxvift has, 
 in the bitterness of his wk, said against him. Nor does 
 it clearly appear to me that all the heroes in the Ditnciad 
 deserve a place in the list of votaries of the goddess of 
 Dulness. 
 
 I have made this remark for the sake of taking occasion 
 to caution readers not to let themselves be misled by crit- 
 ics or commentators ; but, after endeavouring to fix a set 
 of rational, clear, and indisputable marks, whereby to judge 
 of the real excellencies or blemishes of the works they 
 read, whether ancient or modern, to read the critics, but 
 to use their own judgment. 
 
 The ber,t English poets are Spencer, Milton, Shaks- 
 peare, Waller, Rowe, Addison and Pope. 
 
 I mention only those whose writings are generallv in- 
 nocent. Wit or genius, when applied to the corrupting 
 or debauching the mind or manners of the reader, ought 
 to be doomed to infamy and oblivion. And it is the dis- 
 grace of our country and religion, that such stuff as the 
 greatest parts of the works of a Dryden, or a Congreve, 
 and such like, should be in print. 
 
 Among the French there are several good writers in 
 the Belles Lettres, as Comeille and Racine, Roll'm, Da- 
 cier, Fenchm, Boileau and Moliere, the best writer of 
 comedy who has flourished since Terence; his charac* 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 1&3 
 
 ters being* all well drawn, his moral always good, and his 
 language chaste and decent. 
 
 To acquire a taste in painting, sculpture, and archi- 
 tecture, travel is the most effectual means. But such, 
 whose convenience it does not suit to go abroad, may see 
 some small collections of valuable paintings and statues 
 in our own country, and may with advantage read on paint- 
 ing, and design, Harris., Du Bos, Richardson, Fresnoy, 
 Lairesse, the Jesuit's Art of Perspective, Des Piles, Roma 
 Illustrata, Da Vinci, Gravesande and Ditton on Perspective. 
 
 On architecture, Palladio, de Chambray, Felibien, Se- 
 bastian, Le Clerk, Perrault, Freart and Evelyn, And 
 on statuary, Alberti and Richardson. 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 Of Travel. 
 
 THERE are three countries, of which it may be an 
 advantage to a gentleman of fortune to see a little ; I 
 mean Holland, France and Italy. The first, with a view 
 to commerce and police ; the second to the elegance of 
 life ; and the last to curiosities in art, ancient and modern* 
 
 There is a pedantry in travel, as well as Other accom- 
 plishments. And where there is not a direct view to 
 real improvement, a great deal of time and money may 
 be very foolishly spent in rambling over the world, and 
 staring at strange sights. 
 
 In order to reap benefit from travel, it is absolutely ne- 
 cessary that a gentleman know well his own country be- 
 fore he sets out ; that nothing he may meet with may be 
 strange to him, but what is peculiar to the place he travels 
 through, by which means he may save himself a great deal 
 of otherwise lost labour. This will also enable him to de- 
 termine immediately in what particulars our own country 
 has the advantage of foreign parts, and the contrary. It 
 will also be necessary, that he make himself master, before 
 he sets out, of as much of the knowledge of foreign coun- 
 tries, and what may be worthy of his attention in them, 
 as can be had in books, or conversation with those who 
 have travelled, by which means he will go properly prepar- 
 ed to every place, and every object. A correspondence 
 with men of abilities and interest in the places one is to go to. 
 
 2 B 
 
194 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 ought also to be established, before he sets out, that no 
 time may be lost in finding out such after his arrival. 
 
 The principal objects of inquiry of a traveller are evi- 
 dently the characters and manners of different nations, 
 their arts of government, connexions, and interests, the 
 advantages or disadvantages of different countries, as to 
 administration, police, commerce, and the rest, with the 
 state of literature and arts, and the remains of antiquity. 
 An account of what one has observed in each different 
 country, with the remarks which occurred upon the spot, 
 ought to be constantly kept. 
 
 Nothing sets forth to view more conspicuously the dif- 
 ference between a young man of sense and a fool, than 
 travel. The first returns from foreign parts improved in 
 easiness of behaviour, in modesty, in freedom of senti- 
 ment, in readiness to make allowances to those who dif- 
 fer from him, and in useful knowledge of men and man- 
 ners. The other brings back with him a laced coat, a 
 spoiled constitution, a gibberish of broken French and 
 Italian, and an awkward imitation of foreign gestures. 
 
 One good consequence of an English gentleman's hav- 
 ing seen other countries, if he has any understanding, 
 will be, his returning home more than ever disposed to 
 enjoy his own. For whoever rightly understands where- 
 in the true happiness of a nation consists, will acknowl- 
 edge, that these highly favoured lands, were they covered 
 ten months in the year with snow, and boasted neither 
 tree nor shrub, would have incomparably the ad- 
 vantage of Italy, with her orange-groves, her breathing- 
 statues, and her melting strains of music ; of France, 
 with all her gaudy finery and outside elegance ; and of 
 Spam, with her treasures from the New World. Who 
 would compare with happy Britain, a country, in which 
 even all these united, but which was deprived of that one, 
 that first of blessings, the glory of Human Nature, with- 
 out which, life is but a lingering death ! I mean, the in- 
 estimable privilege of enjoying in peace whatever heaven 
 has lent, of inquiring freely into sacred truth, and of wor- 
 shipping the Almighty Father of All in sincerity and sim- 
 plicity, according to the dictates of conscience, unbiassed 
 and unternfied by dragoons, by racks, and fires, and mer- 
 ciless inquisitors ? 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 195 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 Of the comparative Importance of the various Branches 
 of Knowledge respectively, and with regard to different 
 jRanks and Stations. 
 
 WE have thus taken a cursory view of science, and 
 seen what is to be studied and learned, in order to acquire 
 the distinguished and rare character of a man of general 
 and universal knowledge. To be completely master of 
 every one of the branches I have here treated of, only as 
 far as they are already known, is what no one man ever will 
 be capable of, much less of improving them by new dis- 
 coveries and additions of his own. But a man of fine 
 natural parts, a strong constitution, a turn to application, 
 an easy fortune, a vacant mind, and who has had the 
 advantage of an early introduction, in a free and rational 
 manner, into the principles of the various parts of knowl- 
 edge, and of a set of learned and communicative friends, 
 and of travel ; such a person may, in the course of a life, 
 acquire a masterly knowledge of the fundamental and prin- 
 cipal parts of science, so as to apply them with ease and 
 readiness to his occasions for entertaining and instructing 
 others, as well as enriching and aggrandizing his own mind, 
 and perfecting his whole character. Such a person may 
 also improve some particular parts of knowledge by his 
 sagacity and industry. 
 
 To consider only one's own entertainment and advan- 
 tage, one ought rather to desire a general knowledge in a 
 variety of ways, than to carry any one particular science 
 to great lengths. For the advantage of learning, the im- 
 provement of a single art or science is the most valuable 
 to man, though he may not be at all a completely accom- 
 plished character. 
 
 The most important of all sciences, is ethics, with 
 whatever is connected with them, as theology, history, 
 the theory of government, and the like. Next to these 
 physiology at large, or whatever comes under the head of 
 pure and mixed mathematics. Inferior to these in import- 
 ance are the politer arts of poetry, painting, architecture 
 and the rest. And to possess ever so perfect a knowledge of 
 languages only, I should reckon the lowest pitch of learning, 
 
196 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 For persons of the mercantile ranks of life, the Lathi 
 and French languages, writing, arithmetic, and merchants' 
 accounts, geography, history, and the theory of commerce, 
 are the indispensable branches of learning. They may 
 pursue the others to what lengths their circumstances and 
 leisure will allow. 
 
 To accomplish a gentleman for the bench, or for the 
 employment of a chamber-counsellor, a perfect knowledge 
 of the theory of government, and foundations of society, 
 is indispensably necessary. To which must be added an 
 immense apparatus of knowledge of the several species of 
 law (which in England is the most voluminous and un- 
 wieldy of all studies ; our law being to the shame of jus- 
 tice, a chaos, not an universe) and almost of every thing 
 else, about which mankind have any connexion, or inter- 
 course with one another. As I cannot see the business of 
 pleading at the bar, in any other light than that of a mischie- 
 vous invention, calculated wholly for the purpose of dis- 
 guising truth, and altogether incapable of being applied to 
 any honest purpose, (for truth wants no colouring) I shall 
 therefore say nothing farther on the head of law. 
 
 The physician ought to be furnished with a perfect 
 knowledge of the whole body of Physiology. The main 
 pillars, on which he is to erect his structure, are anatomy, 
 chemistry, and botany. But the ablest and most success* 
 ful of the faculty have always acknowledged, that expe- 
 rience is the only sure foundation for practice ; and have 
 advised students in that faculty, rather to neglect all other 
 books, than those, which contain the history of diseases, 
 and methods of cure, delivered by those who have been 
 eminent in the therapeutic art. 
 
 As for divines, I cannot help, with great submission, 
 remarking, that there is no order of men whatever, whose 
 studies and inquiries ought to be more universal and exten- 
 sive. Phylological learning has in my humble opinion, 
 been too much honoured in being regarded as almost the 
 only necessary accomplishment of the clergy. To form 
 the important character of a teacher of Sacred Truth, a 
 dispenser of Divine Knowledge ; what superior natural 
 gifts, what noble improvements are not necessary in our 
 times, when the miraculous powers by which Christianity 
 was first established have ceased ! If it be the important 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 197 
 
 business of that sacred order of men to labour for the im- 
 provement of Human Nature, it seems highly necessary, 
 that they perfectly understand Human Nature. If the 
 reformation of mankind be their province, they ought to 
 be acquainted with the ways of men, as they are to be 
 learned from history, and by conversation. The prevail- 
 ing vices of the times ; the hindrances to amendment; the 
 current errors in opinion ; the secret springs of the mind, by 
 which it is worked to good or bad purposes ; the innocent 
 stratagems, by which mankind are to be won, first to listen 
 to, and then to follow advice ; the gentle arts of touching 
 their passions, and acting upon their minds, in such a 
 manner as will suit their various casts and inclinations ; 
 these ought to be so thoroughly understood by a divine, 
 that he may, both in the pulpit, and in conversation, (by 
 which last, he may gain as many, or perhaps more pros- 
 elytes to virtue, than any way) be completely furnished 
 for the instruction and reformation of mankind. The works 
 of nature hold forth distinctly the glorious Author of Na- 
 ture. That knowledge ought therefore to be thought a 
 necessary part of the learning of the sacred dispensers of 
 religion, since just notions of God are the foundation of 
 true religion. To enter deeply into the profound sense 
 and noble beauties of Scripture, a considerable knowl- 
 edge ojf the languages, in which the sacred books were 
 penned, is absolutely necessary. For the true idea of 
 preaching, is making mankind acquainted with Divine 
 Revelation, as it stands in the Bible, from which every 
 single doctrine or precept, to be communicated to the peo- 
 ple, is to be drawn, and from no other fountain whatever. 
 It is therefore greatly to be wished, that the too prevalent 
 custom of taking a detached passage of Scripture as a mot- 
 to, and declaiming upon the subject from the preacher's 
 own funds, were changed for a judicious practical com- 
 ment upon a connected portion of Holy Writ, in such a 
 manner, that the audience might in time comprehend the 
 general scheme of Revelation, and to read the Scriptures 
 with understanding, so as to judge for themselves. To 
 be. duly qualified for this, a very great apparatus of criti- 
 cal learning, and knowledge of Oriental Antiquity, and 
 History, civil and ecclesiastic, is necessary. A thorough 
 knowledge of the obligations of morality being absolutely 
 
198 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 necessary to a teacher of virtue, it is required, that he be a 
 master in the science of ethics. And, as much more is 
 to be done with mankind by affecting their passions,' than 
 by a cool address to their reason (though truth ought to be 
 the basis of the pathetic) the principles of oratory arc io 
 be well understood by a preacher. Nor ought the embel- 
 lishments of delivery to be neglected, as (I cannot help 
 adding with concern) they are to a shameful degree. For 
 while the mock hero of the theatre studies how to give the 
 utmost force of utterance to every syllable cA the fustian 
 rant, which makes the bulk of our stage entertainments, 
 the venerable explainer of the Divine will to mankind, 
 treats of the beauty of virtue, the deformity of vice, the 
 excellencies of a religion which has God himself for its 
 author, the endless joys of heaven, and the hideous pun- 
 ishments of hell, and all in a manner so unmoved and un- 
 moving, that, while the actor becomes the real character 
 he represents, and commands every passion at his pleasure, 
 the preacher can hardly gain attention ; hardly seems him- 
 self (if we did not know it otherwise) to believe his own 
 doctrines, or to care whether his audience do or not. 
 
 But to return ; there is scarce any branch of knowledge 
 which does not, one way or other, add a confirmation to 
 revealed religion. Which shows, that if it were possible 
 for a clergyman to master the whole circle of the sciences, 
 he would find use and advantage from his acquisitions. 
 And in conversation, what an ascendant would not a gen- 
 eral knowledge of arts, of trade, of the various ways of life, 
 give a reformer of manners over mankind, for their advan- 
 tage, when he could enter into their ways, and deal with 
 them upon their own terms ? 
 
 Considering the variety of requisites for completely 
 accomplishing a divine, one cannot help saying, with the 
 apostle, " Who is sufficient for these things ?" But be it 
 at the same time observed, and let this work, if it should 
 remain, inform posterity, that, by the confession of all 
 sober and judicious persons, and to the confusion of the 
 unthinking opposers of religion, and its dispensers, no 
 period, since the first ages of the church, could boast a set 
 of clergy of all ranks and denominations superior to those 
 of Britain at this present time, either in human learning, 
 Hi knowledge of Scripture, or sanctity of manners. Which 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 199 
 
 things being so, what words shall be found equal to the 
 atrocicusness of their guilt, who have it in their power, 
 but will not take the trouble, to remove from off the necks 
 of the clergy the galling yoke of subscription to articles, 
 creeds, and confessions, the impositions of men, in many 
 particulars unintelligible, in more, incredible, and in all, 
 superfluous? If Holy Scripture be, as declared in the 
 articfes of the church of England, the only, and the suffi- 
 cient rule of faith. 
 
 The Hebrew original, and Septuagmt translation of the 
 Old Testament, the New in the original Greek, with 
 Beza's Latin; and Taylor's Hebrew Concordance, and 
 Schmidus' Greek, are the foundation of a clergyman's 
 library. 
 
 Some of the best commentators of Scripture, are Eras- 
 mus, Beza, Grotius, and the authors in the collection 
 called Critici Sacri abridged in Pooled Synoposis. The 
 works of the following writers are also valuable, viz. Mede, 
 Patrick, Hammond, the Fratres Polonii, Vorstius, Raphe - 
 lius, Eisner, Bos, Calmet, Whitby, Ainsworth, Newton, 
 Locke, Clarke, Pylc, Pierce, Taylor, Benson, Lowman, 
 to which add Fortuity Sacra; Knatchbull on Select Texts, 
 and many more. 
 
 Besides the books mentioned under the heads of polite 
 learning, philosophy, and other parts of knowledge, which 
 no gentleman ought to be without, and besides those re- 
 commended under the articles, ethics, and church history, 
 the following ought by any means to have a place in the 
 study of every divine ; being the best helps for understand- 
 ing those parts of knowledge, which are to him essential; 
 viz. Josephus ; PhiloJudxus ; Stillingfieet's Origines Sa- 
 cra ; Prideaux's and Shuckford's Connexions ; Spencer 
 on the Laws of the Jews, Grotius', Locke's, Conybeare's, 
 Leland's, Jenkins', Foster's, Benson's, Lardner's, Lyttle- 
 ton's, West's, Duchal's, Jortin's, and Chandler's Defences 
 of Christianity ; Clarke on Natural and Revealed Religion ; 
 Butler's Analogy ; Rymcr's Representation of Revealed 
 Religion ; Millar's History of the Propagation of Chris- 
 tianity ; J^axv's, Edwards', and Watts' Surveys of the 
 Divine Dispensations, and Revelation examined with can- 
 dour. 
 
 It is with no small pleasure that all sincere lovers of 
 
200 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 truth observe the greatest and best of men, in our latei 
 and more improved times, bravely asserting the noble and 
 manly liberty of rejecting hypotheses in philosophy, and 
 systems in religion ; and daring to appeal, from conjec- 
 ture in the former, and human authority in the latter, to 
 the works of God in the natural world, and his word in 
 Scripture, the only pure and uncorrupted fountains^ from 
 whence the candid and inquisitive mind may draw the 
 wholesome stream of unsophisticated knowledge. That 
 a worm of the earth should pretend to impose upon his 
 fellow creature the poor invention of his troubled fancy 
 for the sacred truth of God, while the blessed volume of 
 Divine Revelation itself lies open to every eye, is a de- 
 gree of presumption, which could scarce have been ex- 
 pected. And yet it is notorious, that, by means of hu- 
 man interposition, the Divine scheme has, especially in 
 one church, been so egregiously perverted, as to be well 
 nigh defeated of its gracious intention. But all societies, 
 who have in any degree, infringed the freedom of inquiry, 
 have violated truth, and injured the cause of religion. 
 Nor only they, who have had power to back with threat - 
 enings and punishments their own invented and imposed 
 doctrines, but all who have made Holy Scripture a sub- 
 ject of party zeal and have loaded the world with systems 
 piled on systems, and confounded the understandings of 
 mankind with subtle distinction, and voluminous contro- 
 versies, are to be considered as nuisances in the world ol 
 letters and their works be left a prey to the book worm. 
 A clergyman has no occasion to crowd his library with 
 systematic or polemic lumber. Such authors may dis- 
 tract his understanding ; but will not enlighten it. If he 
 cannot in the Sacred books, with the help of the best 
 commentators, read the truth of God, he will not find it 
 in human systems and controversies. 
 
 People of fortune are peculiarly inexcusable, if the} 
 neglect the due improvement of their minds in the most 
 general and extensive manner. And yet it is to be la- 
 mented, that no rank is more deficient in this respect than 
 that of the rich and great. That they, who pretend to set 
 themselves at the head of the world, should be obliged to 
 own themselves generally iRftoor to those they call their 
 inferiors in the very accomplishments which give the most 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 201 
 
 just pretensions to superiority ! What can be more shame- 
 ful ! The man of business may plead for his excuse, that 
 he has wanted the necessary leisure for improving himself 
 by study ; the man of narrow fortune, that he could not go 
 to the expense of education, books, and travel ; but what 
 can a lord plead in excuse for his ignorance, except that 
 he thought himself in duty bound to waste his time and 
 his fortune, upon wenches, horses, dogs, players, fiddlers, 
 and flatterers ? 
 
 The proper and peculiar study of a person of high rank 
 is the knowledge of the interest of his country. But a 
 man of condition ought to be ignorant of no part of 
 useful or ornamental knowledge. 
 
 I will conclude what I have to say on the several ranks 
 of life, and the peculiar and indispensable scientific ac- 
 complishments of each respectively, by adding, what can- 
 not be too often repeated, That a perfect . knowledge of 
 morality and Christianity is the noblest endowment of 
 every man and woman of every rank and order. A 
 strong and thorough sense of the absolute necessity of uni- 
 versal virtue and goodness, as the only means of happi- 
 ness, ought to be worked into the understanding, the 
 will, and every faculty of every rational mind in the 
 universe. 
 
 SECTION VIII. 
 
 Miscellaneous Cautions and Directions for the Conduct of 
 
 Study. 
 
 I WILL add to what I have said on that part of the 
 Dignity of Life, which consists in the improvement of 
 the mind by knowledge, a few brief remarks, chiefly on 
 the errors which people commonly run into in study, 
 which are the causes of their failing of the end they have 
 in view. 
 
 First, reading, or rather running through a multitude 
 of books, without choice or distinction, is not the way to 
 acquireTeal improvement in knowledge. It is only what 
 we digest, and understand clearly, that is ours. And it is 
 not possible, that an insatiable devourer of books can have 
 time to examine, recollect, and dispose in his head all he 
 
 '2 C 
 
1202 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 reads. The judgment of reading is, to make one's self 
 master of a few of the best books on a subject ; in doing 
 which, a man of a tolerable apprehension will have acquir- 
 ed clear notions of it, or at least of the great lines and prin- 
 cipal heads of it. 
 
 Some men of abilities run into the error of grasping at 
 too great an extent and variety of knowledge, without fix- 
 ing upon one study, with a view to pursue it a competent 
 length. Life is short and uncertain, and awful and im- 
 portant the work to be done in it. Every man has his 
 proper business as a citizen, and his proper study as a 
 man, to pursue. The knowledge more indispensably 
 necessary to one's particular rank and profession, and 
 that which every man ought to be completely master of, I 
 mean, of his duty, and means of happiness, are absolute- 
 ly to be made sure of. And this will not leave to any, 
 but people of leisure and fortune, an opportunity of ex- 
 p Ltiating at large in pursuit of science. No man can 
 hope to excel in a variety of ways. Few are able to ex- 
 cel in one single branch of knowledge. And by taking in 
 too large a scope, it is no wonder that men can go but 
 inconsiderable lengths in all, and accordingly become mere 
 smatterers in every thing, knowing in nothing. 
 
 To avoid this error, the rule is easy. Be sure that you 
 understand one thing, before you proceed to another: 
 And take care that you allow for forgetfulness. What 
 you understand pretty well now, a few years hence 
 (if you drop that study) will not stand so clear in your 
 mincl as at present. What apprehension can you there- 
 fore expect to have, at some distance of time hence, of 
 what you do not now clearly understand. The view in edu- 
 cation is very different from that of study in- mature life. 
 In education, the business is to open the mind to receive 
 the first principles of various knowledge, to furnish it with 
 the instrumental sciences, to habituate it to application, 
 and accustom it to exert itself with ease upon all kinds of 
 researches, rather than to carry any one branch of knowledge 
 to perfection, which is not indeed practicable at an imma- 
 ture age. The intention, on the contrary, in the study of 
 the more maul}' parts of science, in adult age, is to furnish 
 the mind with a comprehensive and distinct know ledge of 
 whatever may be useful or ornamental to the understand- 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 203 
 
 ing. Therefore it is plain, quite different schemes areto 
 be pursued in study at those two different periods of life. 
 This necessary distinction is very little attended to. Ac- 
 cordingly the idea, which many educators of youth seem 
 to have formed of their province, is, plunging a raw boy to a 
 much greater depth in languages, than he will ever, at any 
 period of life, be the better for, and neglecting the necessary 
 work of laving an early foundation of general improve- 
 ment. And on the other hand, the notion formed by 
 many grown persons, of learning, is only the reading an 
 infinite number of books ; so that they may have it to say, 
 they have read them, though they are nothing the wiser for it. 
 
 As some readers are for grasping at all science, so 
 others confine their researches to one single article. Yet 
 it is certain, that to excel in any single art or science, being 
 wholly ignorant of all others, is not the complete improve- 
 ment of the mind. Besides, some of the different parts 
 of knowledge are so connected together, and so necessary 
 to one another, that they cannot be separated. In order 
 to a thorough understanding of morality, and religion 
 (a study which might the best pretend to exclude all 
 others, as being of infinitely greater consequence than all 
 others) several collateral helps are necessary, as languages, 
 history, and natural philosophy. 
 
 There is no part of knowledge, that has been singly set 
 up for the whole improvement of the mind so much as 
 classical learning. Time was when Latin, Greek, and 
 Logic were the whole of education, and they are by some 
 few narrow minds, which have had little culture of any 
 other kind, thought so still. But it is to be hoped, that 
 people will at last be wise enough to see, that, in order to 
 the full improvement of the mind, it is not sufficient that 
 one enter the porch of knowledge, but that he proceed 
 from the study of words to that of things. 
 
 The pursuit of too many different and inconsistent stud- 
 ies at once is very prejudicial to thorough improvement. 
 The human mind is so formed, that, without distinction, 
 method, and order, nothing can be clearly apprehended by 
 it. Many readers take a delight in heaping up in their 
 minds a cumbrous mass of mere unconnected truths, as 
 if a man should get together a quantity of stones, bricks, 
 mortar, timbers, boards, and other materials, without any 
 
204 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 design of ever putting them together into a regular build- 
 ing. 
 
 Some read by fits and starts, and, leaving off in the 
 middle of a particular study or inquiry, lose all the labour 
 they had bestowed, and never pursuing any one subject 
 to a period, have their head filled only with incoherent 
 bits and scraps. 
 
 To prevent a turn to rambling and sauntering, without 
 being able to collect your thoughts, or fix them on any 
 one subject, the studies of arithmetic, mathematics, and 
 logic, in youth, ought to have been pursued. But, if you 
 have missed of that advantage, you may constrain yourself 
 at times to study hard for some hours, with a fixed reso- 
 lution, upon no account whatever to give over, till the 
 time is out. By this means you will come at length to be 
 able to bear the fatigue of close application. But after 
 forty years of age, never think of going on with study, 
 when it goes against the grain ; nature at that time of life, 
 will not be thwarted. 
 
 With some men, study is mere inquiry, no matter 
 about what. And a discovery is to them the same, whether 
 it be of an important truth, or of somewhat merely curious, 
 or perhaps not even entertaining to any but such dull im- 
 aginations as their own. Such readers resemble that spe- 
 cies of people, which the Spectator distinguishes by the 
 title of Quidnwws, who pass their lives in inquiring after 
 news, with no view to any thing, but merely hearing 
 somewhat new. 
 
 Were the works of the learned to be retrenched of all 
 their superfluities and specious trifling, learning would 
 soon be reduced into a much narrower compass. The 
 voluminous verbal critics, laborious commentators, po- 
 lemical writers, whose works have, for several centuries, 
 made the presses groan, would then shrink into sixpenny 
 pamphlets, and pocket volumes. 
 
 Such a degree of laziness as will not allow one to in- 
 quire carefuliy into the sense of an author ; impatience, 
 inattention, rambling, are dispositions in a reader, which 
 effectually prevent his improvement, even though he 
 should upon the whole spend as much time over his books, 
 as another, who shall actually become extensively learned. 
 Some consider reading as a mere amusement, so that, 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 205 
 
 to them, the most diverting book is the best. Such read- 
 ers having no view to the cultivation of their understand- 
 ing, there is no need to offer them any directions for the 
 conduct of study. The very great number of novels and 
 tales, which are continually publishing, encourage in peo- 
 ple a trifling and idle turn of mind, for which the present 
 age is eminently remarkable, which makes any direct ad- 
 dress to their understandings unacceptable ; and nothing 
 can please or gain their attention, that is not seasoned with 
 some amusement, set off in some quaint or artificial man- 
 ner, or does not serve to execute some silly passion. 
 
 There is nothing more difficult, than to come at a right 
 judgment of our own abilities. It is commonly observed, 
 that ignorant people are often extremely conceited of their 
 own fancied knowledge. An ignorant person, having no 
 manner of notion of the vast extensiveness of science, con- 
 cludes he has mastered the whole, because he knows not, 
 that there is any thing to be learned beyond the little he 
 has learned. But it will take many years study only to 
 know how much there is to be studied and inquired into, 
 and to go through what is already known ; and the most 
 learned, best know, how much beyond all that is known, 
 is quite out of reach of human sagacity. There is indeed 
 an infinity of things, in the strictest sense of the word, of 
 which we cannot even know our own ignorance, not being 
 at all within the reach of our ideas in our present state. 
 
 That a young person may not run into the egregious, 
 though common error, at the time of life, of fancying 
 himself the most knowing person in the world, before he 
 lias gone half way through the first principles, or rudi- 
 ments of knowledge, let him converse with a person emi- 
 nent in each branch of science, and learn from him what 
 labour he must bestow, what books he must read, what 
 experiments he must try, what calculations he must go 
 through, what controversies he must examine, what er- 
 rors he must avoid, what collections he must make, what 
 analogical reasonings he must pursue, what close resem- 
 blance in subjects he must distinguish from one another, 
 and so forth. And after he has gone through all that an able 
 master in each science has prescribed, and has learned all 
 that is to be learned, and seen that all our learning is but ig- 
 norance, then let him be proud of his knowledge, if he can. 
 
206 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 ; The universal smatterer knows nothing to the bottom. 
 The man of owe science, on the contrary, makes that every 
 thing, solves all difficulties by it, resolves all things into 
 it ; like the musician and dancing master in Moherc who 
 labour to prove, that the welfare of states, and happiness 
 of the world, depend wholly on the cultivation of those 
 two elegancies. 
 
 Some men seem to have minds too narrow to apprehend 
 any subject without first cramping and hampering it. 
 Nothing great or generous can mid room in their souls. 
 They view things bit by bit, as one who looks through a 
 miscroscope. A man of such a character may know some 
 subjects more minutely than one who is universally al- 
 lowed to be a great man, and vet such a one must be "ack- 
 nowledged to be a person of very mean accomplish- 
 ments. For it is not having a heap of unanimated knowl- 
 edge in one's head, but having the command of it, and 
 being capable of applying and exerting it in a masterly 
 manner, that denominates a truly great and highly accom- 
 plished mind. 
 
 Men's natural tempers have a very great influence over 
 their way of thinking. Sanguine people, for example, see 
 every thing very suddenly, and often very clearly in one 
 light. But they do not always take time'to view a com- 
 plex subject on all sides, and in every light ; without 
 which, it is impossible to determine any thing about it 
 with certainty. These tempers, when joined with weak 
 judgments, make wild work in matters of inquiry and 
 teaming. For through haste and eagerness, they lay false 
 foundations, or raise superstructures upon nothing. San- 
 guine tempers, however; are generally found to be the fit- 
 test for action, and without a considerable degree of zeal 
 and warmth, men seldom carry any great design into exe- 
 cution. 
 
 Men of cold saturnine tempers are generally slow and 
 laborious in their researches, doubtful and undetermined 
 in their opinions, and awkward at applying their discove- 
 ries and observations for the general advantage of knowl- 
 edge, and of mankind. But if the miner did not dig up 
 the ore, the curious artist could not fashion the metal into 
 utensils and instruments necessary in life. The laborious 
 searcher after knowledge is necessary to the man of genius. 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 207 
 
 For it is from him that he has the materials he works up- 
 on, which he would not himself bestow the drudgery of 
 searching after. For a laborious turn is very rarely found 
 to accompany brightness of genius. 
 
 Some people's reading never goes beyond the bulk of 
 a pamphlet, who do not for all that quit their pretensions 
 to disputing and,arguing. But conversation alone does not 
 go deep enough to lay a solid foundation of knowledge ; 
 nor does reading alone fully answer the purpose of digest- 
 ing and rendering our knowledge useful. Reading is 
 necessary to get at the fundamental principles of a science. 
 And the careful perusal of a few capital books is sufficient 
 for this purpose. Afterwards to talk over the subject 
 with a set of intelligent men, is the best method for ex- 
 tending one's views of it. For in an evening's conver- 
 sation, you may learn the substance of what each of your 
 friends has spent many months in studying. 
 
 If vou can find one or more ingenious, learned, and com- 
 municative friends, with whom to converse upon curious 
 and useful subjects, to hear their opinions, and ask the 
 advice, especially of those who are advanced in life, and, 
 having been at the seat of the muses, are qualified to di- 
 rect you the shortest way thither ; if you can find in the 
 place where you live, such a set of friends, with whom to 
 converse freely and without the trammels of systematic 
 or academic rules, you will find more improvement, in a 
 short time, from such society, than from twenty years 
 solitary study. 
 
 Some choose only to read on what they call the ortho- 
 dox side, that is, books in defence of those opinions 
 which the bulk of people receive without examining. 
 They conclude, a great number of people cannot be in 
 the wrong. Others take for granted, that whatever is 
 generally received, must be wrong. Such readers are 
 sure to peruse whatever comes out against articles, or 
 creeds, or religion in general. But they do not take the 
 pains to give the defenders of them the hearing. And 
 yet there is no doubt, but prejudice is equally wrong on 
 either side ; and in our times, there are almost as many 
 prejudiced against, as in favour of, formerly received 
 opinions. There is nothing commendable in believing 
 what is true, unless that belief be the effect of examina- 
 
208 OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 tion. Nor is there any merit in opposing error, if sueh 
 opposition is accidental, and the effect of prejudice. 
 
 In establishing a set of principles, most people let 
 themselves be biassed by prejudice, passion, education, 
 spiritual guides, common opinion, supposed orthodoxy, 
 or almost any thing. And after having been habituated 
 to a particular way of thinking which the,y took up with- 
 out examination, they can no more quit it, than they can 
 change the features of their faces, or the make of their 
 persons. To come at truth, one ought to begin with 
 throwing out of his mind every attachment to either side, 
 and bring himself to an absolute indifference which is 
 true, or which false. He who wishes an opinion to be 
 true, is in danger of being misled into the belief of it upon 
 insufficient grounds ; and he who wishes it to be false, is 
 likely to reject it in spite of sufficient evidence for its truth. 
 To observe some men studying, reading, arguing, and 
 writing wholly on one side, without giving the other a fair 
 hearing, making learning a party affair, and stirring up 
 faction against truth, one would imagine, their minds 
 were not made like those of most rational beings, of which 
 truth is the proper object ; but that it gave them a pleasure 
 to be deceived. 
 
 Though it is the business and the very character of a 
 wise man, to examine both sides, to hear different opin- 
 ions, and search for truth even among the rubbish of er- 
 ror ; yet there are numberless books, which I cannot think 
 the shortness and uncertainty of life, that leaves no room 
 for tedious trifling, will admit of examining with the care 
 that must be bestowed in trying to find out the author's 
 meaning, and to learn somewhat from him. As some 
 writers, so to speak, never go deep enough to draw blood 
 of a subject; so others refine and subtilize away all that 
 the understanding can lay hold of. The logicians and meta- 
 physicians, with their substantial forms, and intentional 
 species; the Malebranches and Behmens\ What fruit 
 there is to be got from reading such writers, is to me, in- 
 conceivable, For the fate of all such refinements is, to 
 be found partly unintelligible, partly absurd, and partly 
 of no manner of consequence toward the discovery of any 
 lew truth. 
 
 Some men have the misfortune of an awkard, and as 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 209 
 
 it were a left-handed way of thinking and apprehending 
 things. A great thought in such minds is not a great 
 thought. For what is in itself clear and distinct, to such 
 men appears dim and confused. Those gentlemen are 
 mightily given to finding difficulties in the clearest points, 
 and are great collectors of arguments pro and con. But 
 their labours have no tendency to give either themselves 
 or others satisfaction in any one subject of inquiry. It 
 seems to be their delight to darken, rather than enlighten. 
 
 Want of education, or of so much culture as is neces- 
 sary for habituating the mind to wield its faculties, is the 
 same sort of disadvantage, for finding out and commu- 
 nicating intricate truth, as a raw recruit's never having 
 learned the military exercise, is for his performing the 
 movements properly in a review or a battle. It is there- 
 fore matter of compassion to see silly people, without the 
 least improvement by education, without the advantage 
 even of first principles, striking slap-dash at points of .^ci* 
 ence, of which they do not so much as understand what 
 it is they would affirm or deny ; disputing and confuting 
 against those, who have spent their lives in a particular 
 study; pretending, perhaps the first moment they ever 
 thought of a subject, to see through the whole of it ; taking 
 upon them to make use of arguments, a sort of tools, 
 which they have no more command of than I should of 
 the helm of a ship, in a tempest. The shortest way- of 
 finishing a dispute with people, who will be meddling with 
 what you know to be out of their depth, is to tell them, 
 what reading and study you have bestowed upon it, and 
 that still you do not think yourself sufficiently master of 
 the subject. If your antagonist has any modesty, he must 
 be sensible, that it is arrogance in him to pretend, with- 
 out all the necessary advantages, to understand a subject 
 better than one, who has had them. 
 
 Men of business, and men of pleasure, even if they 
 have had their minds in their youth opened by education, 
 and put in the way of acquiring knowledge, are generally 
 found afterwards to lose the habit of close thinking and 
 reasoning. But no one is less capable of searching into, 
 or communicating truth, than he who has bten from his 
 earliest youth brought up, as most of the great are, in 
 pleasure and folly. 
 
 2 D 
 
-210 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 There is no single obstacle, which stands in the way of 
 more people in the search of truth, than pride. They 
 have once declared themselves of a particular opinion ; and 
 they cannot bring dumselves to think they could possibly 
 be in the wrong. Consequently they cannot persuade 
 themselves of the necessity of re-examining the foundations 
 of their opinions. To acknowledge, and give up their 
 error, would be a still severer trial. But the truth is, there 
 is more greatness of mind in candidly giving up a mistake, 
 than would have appeared in escaping it at first, if not a 
 very shameful one. The surest way of avoiding error, is, 
 careful examination. The best way of leaving room for 
 a change of opinion, which should always be provided for, 
 is to be modest in delivering one's sentiments. A man 
 may, without confusion, give up an opinion, which he 
 declared without arrogance. 
 
 The case of those, whose secular interests have engaged 
 them to declare themselves of a certain party ; where con- 
 science is not allowed to speak loud enough to be heard 
 on the side of candid and diligent examination, is the most 
 remediless of any. Those men have nothing for it but to 
 find out plausible arguments for their pre-established opin- 
 ions, find themselves obliged not to examine whether their 
 notions be true; but to contrive ways and means to make 
 them true in spite of truth itself. If they happen to be in 
 the right, so much the better for them. If in an error, 
 having set out with their backs upon truth, the longer 
 they travel, the farther they are from it; the more they 
 study, the more they are deceived. 
 
 There are some men of no settled way of thinking at 
 all ; but change opinions with every pamphlet they read. 
 To get rid of this unmanly fickleness, the way is, to labour 
 to furnish the mind early with a set of rational well ground- 
 ed principles, which will, generally speaking, lead to rea- 
 sonable consequences. Take for an example the follow- 
 ing one among many. "The only end of a true religion 
 " must be to perfect the human nature, and lead mankind 
 to happiness." The reader must perceive at once, that 
 such a fundamental principle will serve to discover and 
 expose almost all the errors and absurdities of false reli- 
 gions, and those which may be introduced into the true. 
 And so of other general principles* 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 211 
 
 Artful declamations have often fatal effects in misleading 
 weak readers from the truth. A talent at oratory is there- 
 fore a very mischievous weapon in the hands of an ill-dis- 
 posed man. It is the wisdom of a reader, when he has 
 productions of genius put into his hands, to examine all 
 the peculiar notions he finds in such writings, stripping 
 them of their ornaments to the bare thought ; which, if 
 it will stand the test of cool reason, is to be received ; if 
 not, the style it is clothed in ought to gain it no favour ; 
 but it ought to be rejected with indignation. Wit, hu- 
 mour, and raillery, have done infinite mischief among 
 superficial readers. Of which talents some authors have 
 such a command, as to be capable of working up unthink- 
 ing and unprincipled people to believe or practice whatever 
 they please. 
 
 Strive to understand thinsrs as thev are in themselves. 
 Do not think of conceiving of them otherwise than accord- 
 ing to their real natures. Do not labour to explain reli- 
 gion by chemistry, to reduce morals to mathematical cer- 
 tainty, or to think of eternal rectitude as an arbitrary or 
 factitious constitution. The nature of things will not be 
 forced. Bring your understanding to them. Do not 
 think of reducing them to your hypothesis ; unless you be 
 indifferent about true knowledge, and mean only to amuse 
 yourself with a jeu cV esprit. 
 
 In reading, labour to get into the full sense of the au- 
 thor's principal terms, and the truths affirmed in his pro- 
 positions. After that, observe whether he proves, or 
 only affirms roundly ; whether what he says is built on 
 fancy, or on truth, and the nature of things. And do not 
 pretend to believe him one hair's breadth beyond what you 
 understand : you cannot if you would. 
 
 In conversation, or writing, if you mean to give or 
 receive information, accurately define your terms. Keep 
 to the original sense you affixed to them. Use no tautology. 
 Think in time what objections may be made to what you 
 are going to urge. Let truth be your sole view. Des- 
 pise the pleasure of conquering your antagonist. Pro- 
 nounce modestly, so as to leave room for a retreat. Keep 
 y ourself superior to passion and peevishness. Yield what- 
 ever you can, that your antagonist may see you do not 
 dispute for contention's sake. When you have argued 
 
212 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 the matter fully, and neither can bring over the other, 
 drop the subject amicably, mutually agreeing to differ. 
 
 If you would thoroughly re-examine a subject of import- 
 ance, fancy it to be quite new to you before you begin to in- 
 quire into it. Throw out of your mind all your former no- 
 tions of it; and put yourself in the place of an honest Indian, 
 to whom a missionary is explaining the christian religion. 
 Take every single thought to pieces, and reduce even- 
 complex idea to its simples. Get into the author's precise 
 sense in every general term he uses. Strip his thoughts 
 bare of all flourishes. Turn ever single point, in everv 
 complicated subject, all the ways it is capable of. View 
 ever minute circumstance that may have any weight, not 
 in one, but in all lights. Throw out of your mind every 
 desire or wish, that may bias you either for or against the 
 proposition. Shake off every prejudice, whether in favour 
 of or against the author. Let the merit of every single 
 argument be duly weighed ; and do not let yourself be too 
 strongly influenced by one you understand fully, against 
 another, which you do not so clearly see through ; or by 
 one you are familiar with, against one that may be new to 
 you, or not to your humour. The weight is of more con- 
 sequence than the number of argument. Labour above 
 all things to acquire a clear methodical, and accurate man- 
 ner of thinking, speaking, -or writing. Without this, 
 study is but fruitless fatigue, and learning useless lumber. 
 
 Do not form very high or very mean notions of persons 
 or things, where a great deal is to be said on both sides. 
 Whatever is of a mixed nature ought to be treated as such. 
 Judging of truth in the lump will make wild work. If an 
 author pleases you in one place, do not therefore give 
 yourself up implicitly to him. If he blunders in one place, 
 do not therefore conclude that his whole book is nonsence. 
 Especially if he writes well in general, do not imagine, 
 from one difficult passage, which you cannot reconcile 
 with the rest, that he meant to contradict his whole book ; 
 but rather conclude that you misunderstand him. Per- 
 haps mathematics is the only science on which any author 
 has, or can write, without falling into mistakes. 
 
 Take care cf false associations. Error may be ancient; 
 truth of late discovery. The many may go wrong, white 
 the few are in the right. Learning does not always imply 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 213 
 
 j udgment in an author, or soundness in his opinions. Nor 
 is all vulgar error that is believed by the vulgar. Truth 
 stands independent of all external things. In all your 
 researches, let that be your object. 
 
 Take care of being misled by words of no meaning, of 
 double meaning, or of uncertain signification. Regard 
 always in an author the matter more than the style. It is 
 the thought that must improve your mind. The lan- 
 guage can only please }our ear. If you are yourself to 
 write or to preach, you will do more with mankind by a 
 fine style than deep thought. All men have ears and pas- 
 sions ; few strong understandings to work upon. 
 
 If you give yourself up to a fantastical, overheated, 
 gloomy, or superstitious imagination, you may bid fare- 
 well to reason and judgment. Fancy is to be corrected, 
 moderated, restrained, watched, and suspected, not in- 
 dulged and let loose. Keep down every passion, and in 
 general, every motion of the mind, except cool judgment 
 and reflection, if you really mean to find out truth. What 
 matter whether an opinion be yours, or your mortal ene- 
 my's ? If it be true, embrace it without prejudice ; if false, 
 reject it without mercy : truth has nothing to do with your 
 self-love, or your quarrels. 
 
 The credulous man believes without sufficient evi 
 dence. The obstinate doubts without reason. The san- 
 guine is convinced at once. The plegmatic withholds his 
 assent long. The learned has his hypothesis. The illit- 
 erate his prejudice. The proud is above being convinced. 
 The fickle is not of the same opinion two days togeth- 
 er. Young people determine quickly. The old delib- 
 erate long. The dogmatist affirms as if he went upon 
 mathematical demonstration. The sceptic doubts his own 
 faculties, when they tell him that twice two are four. 
 Some will believe nothing in religion that they cannot 
 fully understand. Others will believe nothing to a 
 point of doctrine, though the bare proposition be ever 
 so clear, if it be possible to start any difficulty about the 
 modes of it. Fashion, the only rule of life among many, 
 especially almost universally in the higher ranks, has even 
 a considerable influence in opinion, in taste, in reading, 
 and in the methods of improving the mind. It runs 
 through politics, divinity, and all but the mathematical sci- 
 
214 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 ences. And there are a set of people at this day weak 
 enough to think of making even them yield to it, and of 
 new modelling and taking to pieces a system of philoso- 
 phy founded in demonstration. 
 
 Parents may have misled us ; teachers may have mis- 
 informed us; spiritual guides in many countries do notori- 
 ously mislead the people, and in all are fallible. The 
 ancient philosophers differed among themselves in funda- 
 mentals. The Fathers of the church contradict one anoth- 
 er, and often contradict both scripture and reason. Popes 
 and councils have decreed against one another. We know 
 our ancestors to have been in the wrong in innumerable 
 instances : and they had the better of us in some. Kings 
 repeal the edicts of their predecessors; anel parliaments ab- 
 rogate acts of former parliaments. Good men may be 
 mistaken. Bad men will not stick to deceive us. Here 
 is therefore no manner of foundation for implicit belief. 
 If we mean to come at truth, there is but one way for it ; 
 to attend to the cool and unprejudiced dictates of reason, 
 that heaven-born director within us, which will never 
 mislead us in any affair of consequence to us, unless Ave 
 neglect to use its assistance, or give ourselves up to the 
 government of our passions or prejudices. More especially 
 we of this age and nation, who have the additional ad- 
 vantage of divine revelation, which also convinces us of 
 its authority by reason, should be peculiarly unjustifiable 
 in quitting those sacred guides, to whose conduct heaven 
 itself has entrusted us, and of which the universal free- 
 dom of the present happy times allows us the use without 
 restraint, and giving ourselves up to be led blindfold by 
 any other. And, besides reason and revelation, there is no 
 person or thing in the universe, that ought to have the 
 least influence over us in our search after truth. 
 
 All the operations of the mind become easy by habit. 
 It will be of great use to habituate yourself to examine, 
 reflect, compare, and view, in every light, all kinds of sub- 
 jects. Mathematics in youth, rational logic, such as Mr. 
 Lockers, and conversation with men of clear heads, will be 
 of great advantage to accustom you to readiness and just- 
 ness in reasoning. But carefully avoid disputing for dis- 
 puting's sake. Keep on improving and enlarging your 
 views in a variety of ways. One part of knowledge is con- 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 215 
 
 uected with, and will throw a light upon another. Re- 
 view from time to time your former inquiries, especially in 
 important subjects. Try whether you have not let your- 
 self be imposed upon by some fallacy. And if you find 
 so, though you have published your opinion through all 
 Europe, make not the least hesitation to own your mistake, 
 and retract it. — Truth is above all other regards. And 
 it is infinitely worse to continue obstinately in a mistake, 
 and be the cause of error in others' than to be thought fal- 
 lible, or, in other words, to be thought a mortal man. In 
 examining into truth, keep but one single point in view at 
 a time ; and when you have searched it to the bottom, pass 
 on to another, and so on, till you have gone through all, 
 and viewed every one in every different light. At last, sum 
 up the collective evidence on both sides. Balance them 
 against one another, and give your assent accordingly, pro- 
 portioning your certainty or persuasion to the amount of 
 the clear and unquestionable evidences upon the whole. 
 
 In reasoning there is more probability of convincing 
 by two or three solid arguments closely put, than by as 
 many dozen inclusive ones, ill digested, and improperly 
 ranged. I know of no way of reasoning equal to the So- 
 cratic, by which you convince your antagonist out of his 
 ©wn mouth. I could name several eminent writers, who 
 have so laboured to establish their opinions by a multi- 
 plicity of arguments, that, by means of over-proving, they 
 have rendered those doctrines doubtful, which, with a 
 third part of the reasoning bestowed by them, would have 
 appeared unquestionable. 
 
 Of all disputants, those learned controversial writers are 
 the most whimsical, who have the talents of working them- 
 ' selves up in their closets into such a passion, as to call 
 their antagonist's names in black and white ; to use railing 
 instead of reasoning, and palm off the public with rogue, 
 rascal, clog, and blockhead, for solid confutations, as if 
 the academy, at which they had studied, had been that of 
 Billingsgate. 
 
 If one thinks he is in the right, it can be no great mat- 
 ter with how much modesty and temper he defends truth, 
 so he does not give it up. And if he should be found af- 
 terwards to have been in the wrong, which in most dis- 
 putable points is always to be apprehended, his modest 
 
216 OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 defence of his opinion will gain him, with all reasonable 
 people, apurdon for his mistake. There are so many sides, 
 on which most subjects may be viewed, and so many con- 
 siderations to be taken in, that a wise man will always ex- 
 press himself modestly even on those subjects which he 
 has thoroughly studied. Nor can there be any danger, 
 but contrariwise great advantage, in hearing the opinion 
 of others, if one converses with men of judgment and 
 probity ; and those of contrary characters are not fit for 
 conversation. 
 
 It is remarkable, and quite contrary to what one would 
 expect, that young people are more positive in affirming, 
 and more given to dispute, than the aged and experienced. 
 One would think it should be natural for youth to be dif- 
 fident of itself, and inclinable to submit to the judgment 
 of those who have had unquestionably superior advantages 
 for information. But we find on the contrary, that a young 
 person viewing a subject only from one side, and seeing 
 it in a very strong and lively manner, is, from the sanguine 
 temper natural to that time of life, led to dispute, affirm, 
 and deny, with great obstinacy and arrogance. This is one 
 of the most disagreeable andtroublesome qualities of youth, 
 otherwise so amiable and engaging. It is the business and 
 effect of prudence to correct it. 
 
 The abilities of men, taken upon an average, are so very 
 narrow, that it is in vain to expect that the bulk of a peo- 
 ple should be very knowing. Most men are endowed 
 with parts sufficient for enabling them to provide for them- 
 selves and their families, and secure their future happiness. 
 But as to any thing greatly beyond the common arts of 
 life, there are few that have either capacity or opportunity 
 of reaching it. Human knowledge itself very probably 
 has its limits, which it never will exceed, while the pre- 
 sent state lasts. The system of the world, for example, 
 was originally produced, and has been since conducted, 
 by a wisdom too profound for human capacity to trace 
 through all his steps. History, at least profane, beyond 
 the two thousand years last past, is come down to us so 
 defective, and so mixed with fable, that little satisfaction 
 is to be had from it. And the history of succeeding ages 
 is far enough from being unexceptionably authenticated; 
 though this is not denying, that physiology and history are 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 217 
 
 still highly worthy our attention and inquiry.^ What I have 
 said of these two considerable heads of study may be af- 
 firmed in some degree of most branches of human knowl- 
 edge, mathematics and mathematical science excepted. 
 It is the goodness of the Author of our being, as well as the 
 excellence of our nature, and the comfort of our present 
 state, that the knowledge of our duty, and means of hap- 
 piness, stands clear and unquestionable to every sound 
 and unprejudiced mind; that the difference between right 
 and wrong is too obvious, and too striking, to escape ob- 
 servation, or tO'produce difficulty or doubt ; unless where 
 difficulties are laboriously sought after, and doubts indus- 
 triously raised ; that where we most need clearness and 
 certainty, there we have the most of them ; that where 
 doubts would be most distracting, there we must raise 
 them before we can be troubled with them, and that where 
 we most need full proof to determine us, there we have 
 superabundant. For with respect to our duty and future 
 expectations, our own hearts are made to teach us them : 
 and, as if the internal monitor, Conscience, was not suffi- 
 cient, Heaven itself descends to illuminate our minds, and 
 all Nature exerts herself to inculcate this grand and import- 
 ant lesson, That Virtue leads to happiness, and Vice to 
 destruction. Of which subject more fully in the following- 
 book. 
 
 F^ 
 
THE 
 
 OF 
 
 HUMAN NATURE. 
 
 BOOK HI. 
 
 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 i 
 
 an^l'^r T an &*?'& t0 exist in two different states 
 
 ani~ e fv and ? Spir tUal; a mortal life °» ^rth, and 
 th^uZ a ' heT ^ ter > «t was to be expected, that there 
 
 e ch of b ,L C t erta ' n P. eCUliar re( l uisites f ° r <l>e dignitj S' 
 each of the two difterent states respectively ; and that at 
 
 tttZtonhe f here sh0l,ld be suc " an W'S 
 
 deat h P ™°, f ,u ? rr ex,st( L nce ' which was to be before 
 
 ble « ^ , h ' Ch W*° be after k ' as shouId be ■*■■ 
 terd° d 1 rf e : entpa r t \ 0f l ' lesame scheme = » that the tat- 
 ntheS^ rtobe ^e sequel of the former, making 
 in the whole the complete existence of the creature be 
 fng no g end U entanceil "° this mortal life, but knot 
 In the two parts of the Dignity of Human Nature 
 which we have already considered, to wit, Prudence and 
 Knowledge, it is evident, that the immediate vTew is to 
 the improvement and embellishment of life, and for dif 
 
 SSSFtfESS 1 ,hrOU S hsodet .^ ■»«* same time that 
 mam , if not the greatest part, of the directions eiven for 
 the conduct of life, and of the understanding, an^kewse 
 useful with a view to the future and immortal state And 
 
OF VIRTUE. 219 
 
 indeed there is nothing truly worthy of our attention, 
 which does not some way stand connected with futurity. 
 
 The two parts of the subject which still remain, I mean, 
 of Morals, and Revealed Religion, do most immediately 
 and directly tend to prepare us for a future state ; but, 
 at the same time, are highly necessary to be studied 
 and attended to, if we mean to establish the happiness even 
 of this present mortal life upon a sure and solid founda- 
 tion. But every one of the four, and every considerable 
 particular in each of them, is absolutely necessary for 
 raising our nature to that perfection and happiness, for 
 which it is intended. 
 
 The Dignity of Human Nature will, in the following 
 books, appear more illustrious than the preceding part of 
 this work represents it. So that the subject rises in its im- 
 portance, and demands a higher regard. Might the abili- 
 ties of the writer improve accordingly. Might the infi- 
 nite Author of the universal oeconomy illuminate his 
 mind, and second his weak attempt to exhibit in one 
 view the whole of what mankind have to do, in order to 
 their answering the ends which the Divine Wisdom and 
 Goodness had in view, in placing them in a state of dis- 
 cipline and improvement for endless perfection and hap- 
 piness. 
 
 To proceed upon a solid and ample foundation in the 
 following deduction of morals, it seems proper to take 
 an extensive prospect of things, and begin as high as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 First, it may be worth while briefly, and in a way as 
 little abstract or logical as possible, to obviate a few arti- 
 ficial difficulties that have been started by some of those 
 deep and subtle men, who have a better talent at puzzling 
 than enlightening mankind. One of those imaginary dif- 
 ficulties is, The possibility of our reason's deceiving us. 
 ■' Our reason," say those profound gentlemen, "tells us, 
 that twice two are four. But what if our reason impos- 
 es upon us in this matter ? How, if in the world of the 
 moon, two multiplied by two should be found to make 
 five ? Who can affirm that this is not the case ? Noth- 
 ing indeed seems to us more unquestionable than the 
 proportions among numbers, and geometrical figures. 
 $o that we cannot (such is the make of our minds) so 
 
220 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 much as conceive the possibility that twice two should, 
 in any other world, or state of things, make more or 
 less than four, or that all the angles of a plain triangle 
 should be cither more or less than exactly equal to two 
 right ones. But it does not follow, that other beings 
 may not understand things in a quite different manner 
 from what we do." 
 
 It is wonderful how any man should have hit upon 
 such an unnatural thought as this ; since the very difficulty 
 is founded upon a flat contradiction and impossibility. 
 To say, I am convinced that twice two are four, and at the 
 same time to talk of doubting whether my faculties do 
 not deceive me, is saying, that I believe twice two to be 
 four, and at the same time I doubt it ; or rather, that I see 
 it to be so, and yet I do not see it to be so. A self-evi- 
 dent truth is not collected, or deducted, but intuitively 
 perceived, or seen by the mind. And other worlds, 
 and other states of things, are wholly out of the ques- 
 tion. The ideas in my mind are the objects of the 
 perception of my mind, as much as outward objects of 
 my eyes. The idea of two of the lunar inhabitants is as 
 distinct an object in my mind, so far as concerns the num- 
 ber, as that of two shillings in my hand. And I see as 
 clearly, that twice two lunar inhabitants will make four 
 lunarians, as that twice two shillings will make four shil- 
 lings. And while I see this to be so, I see it to be so, 
 and cannot suspect it possible to be otherwise. I may 
 doubt the perceptions of another person, if I cannot my- 
 self perceive the same object : But I cannot doubt what 
 I myself perceive, or believe that to be possible, which 
 I see to be impossible. 
 
 It is therefore evident, that to question the information 
 of our faculties, or the conclusions of our reason, without 
 some ground from our faculties themselves, is a direct 
 impossibility. So that those very philosophers, who pre- 
 tend to question the informations of their faculties, neither 
 do, nor can really question them, so long as they appear 
 unquestionable. 
 
 To be suspicious of one's own judgment in all cases 
 where it is possible to err, and to be cautious of proceeding 
 to too rash conclusions, is the very character of wisdom. 
 But to doubt, or rather pretend to doubt, where reason 
 
OF VIRTUE. 221 
 
 sees no ground for doubt, even where the mind distinctly 
 perceives truth, is endeavouring at a pitch of folly, of 
 which Human Nature is not capable. 
 
 If the mind is any thing, if there are any reasoning fac- 
 ulties, what is the object of those reasoning faculties ? 
 Not falsehood ; For falsehood is a negative, a mere noth- 
 ing, and is not capable of being perceived, or of being an 
 object of the mind. ' If therefore there is a rational mind 
 in the universe, the object of that mind is truth. If there 
 is no truth, there is no perception. Whatever the mind 
 perceives, so far- as the perception is real, is truth. When 
 the reasoning faculty is deceived, it is not by distinctly 
 seeing something that is not, for that is impossible ; but 
 either by not perceiving something, which if perceived, 
 would alter the state of the case upon the whole, or by 
 seeing an object of the understanding through a false me- 
 dium. But these, or any other causes of error, do by no 
 means affect the perception of a simple idea ; nor the per- 
 ception of a simple relation between two simple ideas ; 
 nor a simple inference from such simple relation. No 
 mind whatever can distinctly and intuitively perceive, or 
 see twice two to be five : Because that twice two should 
 be five, is an impossibility and self-contradiction in terms, 
 as much as saying that four is five, or that a thing is what 
 it is not. Nor can any mind distinctly perceive, that if 
 two be to four as four is to eight, therefore thrice two is 
 four, for that would be distinctly perceiving an impossi- 
 bility. Now an impossibility is what has no existence, 
 nor can exist. And can any mind perceive, clearly per- 
 ceive, what does not exist ? 
 
 To perceive nothing, or not to perceive, is the same. 
 So that it is evident, so much of any thing as can really 
 be perceived, must be real and true. There is therefore 
 either no object of mind, no rational faculties in the uni- 
 verse ; or there is a real truth in things which the mind per- 
 ceives, and which is the only object it can perceive, in 
 the same manner as it is impossible for the eye to see ab- 
 solute nothing, or to see, and not see, at the same time. 
 
 The only point therefore to be attended to, is to endea- 
 vour at clear perceptions of things, with all their circum- 
 stances, connexions, and dependencies ; which requires 
 more and more accuracy and attention, according as the 
 
:22:2 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 conclusion to be drawn arises out of more or less complex 
 premises; and it is easy to imagine a mind capable of taking 
 in a much greater number and variety of particulars, than 
 can be comprehended by any human being, and of seeing 
 clearly through all their mutual relations, however minute, 
 extensive, or complicated. To such amindall kinds of diffi- 
 culties in all parts of knowledge, might be as easy to inves- 
 tigate, as to us a common question iii arithmetic, and with 
 equal certainty. For truths of all kinds are alike certain 
 and alike clear to minds, whose capacities and states qual- 
 ify them for investigating them. And what is before said 
 with regard to our safety in trusting our faculties in math- 
 ematical or arithmetical points, is equally just with respect 
 to moral and all other subjects. Whatever is a real, clear 
 and distinct object of perception, must be some real exist- 
 ence. For an absolute nothing can never be an object of 
 distinct perception. Now the differences, agreements, 
 contrasts, analogies, and all other relations obtaining among 
 moral ideas, are as essentially real, and as proper subjects 
 of reasoning, as those in numbers and mathematics. I 
 can no more be deceived, nor bring myself to doubt a 
 clear moral proposition, or axiom, than a mathematical 
 one. I can no more doubt, whether happiness is not pre- 
 ferable to misery, than whether the whole is not greater 
 than any of its parts. I can no more doubt, whether a 
 being who enjoys six degrees of happiness, and at the same- 
 time labours under one degree of misery, is not in abet- 
 ter situation than another, who enjoys but three degrees 
 of happiness, and is exposed to one of misery, suppos- 
 ing those degrees equal in both, than I can doubt whether 
 a man, who is possessed of six thousand pounds and owes 
 one, or another, who is worth only three thousand pounds 
 and owes one, is the richer. And so of all other cases, 
 where our views and perceptions are clear and distinct. 
 For a truth of one sort is as much a truth, as of another ; 
 and when fully perceived, is as incapable of being doubted 
 of or mistaken. 
 
 Yet some have argued, that though, as to numbers and 
 mathematics, there is a real independent truth in the nature 
 of things, which could not possibly have been otherwise, 
 it is quite different in morals. Though it was impossi- 
 ble in the nature of tilings, that twice two should be five, 
 
OF VIRTUE. 223 
 
 it might have been so contrived, that, universally, what 
 is now virtue should have been vice, and what is now vice 
 should have been virtue. That all our natural notions of 
 right and wrong are wholly arbitrary and factitious ; a mere 
 instinct or taste, very suitable indeed to the present state 
 of things : but by no means founded in reman natura, and 
 only the pure effect of a positive ordination of Divine Wis- 
 dom, to answer certain ends. 
 
 It does not suit the design of this work to enter into 
 any long discussion of knotty points. But I would ask 
 those gentlemen, who maintain the above doctrine, 
 whether the Divine scheme in creating an universe, and 
 communicating happiness to innumerable beings, which 
 before had no existence, was not good, or preferable to 
 the contrary? If they say, there was no good in creating 
 and communicating happiness, they must show the wis- 
 dom of the infinitely-wise Creator "in choosing rather to 
 create than not. They must show how (to speak with 
 reverence) he came to choose to create a world. For 
 since all things appear to him exactly as they are, if it was 
 not in itself wiser and better to create than not, it must 
 have appeared so to him, and if it had appeared so to him, 
 it is certain he never had produced a world. 
 
 To this some answer, that his creating a world was not 
 the consequence of his seeing it to be in itself better to 
 create than not ; but he was moved to it by the benevo- 
 lence of his own nature, which attribute of goodness or 
 benevolence is, as well as benevolence in a good man, 
 according to their notion of it, no more than a taste or in' 
 clmation, which happens, they know not how, to be in 
 the Divine Nature ; but is in itself indifferent, and ab- 
 stracting from its consequences, neither amiable nor 
 odious, good nor bad. To this the reply is easy, to wit. 
 That there is not, nor can be, any attribute in the Divine 
 Nature, that could possibly have been wanting; or the 
 want of which would not have been an imperfection : for 
 whatever is in his nature, is necessary, else it could not be 
 in his nature ; necessity being the only account to be 
 given for his existence and attributes. Now what is in its 
 own nature indifferent, cannot be said to exist necessarily - 
 therefore could not exist in God. To question whether 
 goodness or benevolence in the Divine Nature is neces- 
 
224 OF VIRTUE 
 
 sarv or accidental, is the same, as questioning whether the 
 very existence of the Deity is necessary or accidental. 
 For whatever is in God, is God. And to question whether 
 the Divine attribute of goodness is a real perfection, or a 
 thing indifferent, that is, to doubt, whether the Divine 
 Nature might not have been as perfect without, as with 
 it, comes to the same as questioning, whether existtnee is 
 a thing indifferent to the Deity, or not. His whole na- 
 ture is excellent; is the abstract of excellence ; and noth- 
 ing belonging to him is indifferent. Of which more 
 hereafter. 
 
 It is therefore evident, that the benevolence of the Di- 
 vine Nature is in itself a real excellence or perfection, in- 
 dependent of our ideas of it, and cannot, without the high- 
 est absurdity, not to say impiety, be conceived of, as in- 
 different. It is also evident, that it must have been upon 
 the whole better that the universe should be created, and 
 a number of creatures produced (in order to be partakers 
 of various degrees and kinds of happiness) than not ; else 
 God, who sees all things as they are, could not have sten 
 any reason for creating, and therefore would not have 
 created them. 
 
 Let it then be supposed, that some being should, through 
 thoughtlessness and voluntary blindness at first, and after- 
 wards through pride and rebellion, at length work up his 
 malice to that degree, as to wish to destroy the whole crea- 
 tion, or to subject millions of innocent beings to unspeaka- 
 ble misery ; would this likewise be good ? Was it better to 
 create than not ? and is it likewise better to destroy than pre- 
 serve? Was it good to give being and happiness to innu- 
 merable creatures'? and would it likewise be good to plunge 
 innumerable innocent creatures into irrecoverable ruin and 
 misery ? If these seeming opposites be not entirely the 
 same, then there is in morals a real difference, an eternal 
 and unchangeable truth, proportion, agreement, and dis- 
 agreement, in the nature of things (of which the Divine 
 Nature is the basis) independent on positive will, and which 
 could not have been otherwise; being no more arbitrary 
 or factitious, than what is found in numbers or mathemat- 
 ics. So that a wickedly disposed being would, so long as 
 he continued unreformed, have been as really so in any 
 other state of thing's, and in anv other world, as in this .in 
 
OF VIRTUE. 225 
 
 which we live ; and a good being would have been equally 
 amiable and valuable ten thousand years ago, and in the 
 planet Jupiter, as upon earth, and in our times ; and the 
 difference between the degrees of goodness and malignity 
 are as determinate, and as distinctly perceived by supe- 
 rior beings, as between a hundred, a thousand, and a mil- 
 lion; or between a line, a surface, and a cube. 
 
 Nothing is more evident, than that we can enter a very 
 great way into the Divine scheme in the natural world, 
 and see very clearlv the wisdom and contrivance, which 
 shine conspicuous in every part of it. I believe nobody 
 ever took it into his head to doubt, whether the inhabi- 
 tants of any other world would not judge the sun to be 
 proper for giving light, the eye for seeing, the ear for hear- 
 ing, and so forth. No one ever doubted whether the an- 
 gel Gabriel conceived of the wisdom of God in the natu- 
 ral world, in any manner contrary to what we do. Why 
 then should people fill their heads with fancies, about our 
 perceptions of moral truth, any more than of natural ? 
 There is no doubt, but we have all our clear and imme- 
 diate ideas, by our being capable of seeing, or apprehend- 
 ing (within a certain limited sphere) things as they are real- 
 ly and essentially in themselves. And we may be assured, 
 that simple truths do bv no means appear to our minds in 
 any state essentially different irom or contrary to that in 
 which they appear ro the mind of the angel Gabriel. 
 
 That there is a possibility of attaining certainty, by sen- 
 sation, intuition, deduction, testimony, and inspiration, 
 seems easy enough to prove. For, first, where sensation 
 is, all other arguments or proofs are superfluous. What 
 I feel I cannot bring myself to doubt, ifl would. I must 
 either really exist or not. But I cannot even be mistaken 
 in imagining I feel my own existence ; for that necessarily 
 supposes my existing. I feel my mind easy and calm. 
 I cannot, if I would, bring myself to doubt, whether my 
 mind is easy and calm. Because I feel a perfect internal 
 tranquility ; and there is nothing within or without me to 
 persuade me to doubt the reality of what I feel ; and u hat 
 I really feel, so far as I really feel it, must be real ; it be- 
 ing absurd to talk of feeling or perceiving what has no 
 real existence. 
 
 Again, there is no natural absurdity in supposing it pos- 
 
 2 F 
 
226 OF VIRTU- 
 
 sible for a human or other intelligent mind, to arrive at a 
 clear and distinct perception of truth by intuition. On 
 the contrary, the supposition of the possibility of a faculty of 
 intelligence necessarily infers the possibility of the exist- 
 ence of truth, as the object of intelligence, and of truth's 
 being in the universe capable of understanding truth, there 
 must be truth for that being to understand ; and that truth 
 must be within the reach of his understanding. But as it 
 is self-evident, that there are an infinite number of ideal, 
 or conceivable truths, it is likewise evident, there must be 
 an infinitely comprehensive understanding, which perceives 
 this infinity of truths. To talk of a truth perceivable by 
 no mind, or that never has been the object of any percep- 
 tive faculty, would be a self-contradiction. Mind is the 
 very substratum of truth. An infinite mind of infinite truth. 
 That a finite understanding may attain a finite perception 
 of truth, is necessary to be admitted, unless we deny the 
 possibility of the existence of any finite understanding. 
 For an understanding capable of attaining no degree of 
 knowledge of truth, or an understanding which neither did 
 nor could understand or preceive any one truth, is a con- 
 tradiction in words. Proceeding in this train of reason- 
 ing, we say, Either there is no such thing as intuition pos- 
 sible, or it must be possible by intuition to perceive truth ; 
 there is no such thing as sensation possible, or it must be 
 possible for the mind to perceive real objects. That what 
 we actually and really apprehend by intuition and sensa- 
 tion, must be somewhat real, as far as actually and really 
 apprehended ; it being impossible to apprehend that which 
 is not. Now, the evidence of the reality of any existence, 
 or the truth of any proposition, let it be conveyed to the 
 mind by deduction, by testimony, by revelation, or if 
 there were a thousand other methods of information, would 
 still be reducible at last to direct intuition; excepting 
 what arises from sensation. The mind, in judging of 
 any proposition, through whatever channel communicated 
 to it, or on whatever argument established, judges of the 
 strength of the evidence ; it makes allowance for the 
 objections ; it balances the arguments, or considerations 
 of whatever kind, against one another, it sees which pre- 
 ponderates. And supposing this to be done properly, it 
 sees the true state of the case, and determines accordingly ; 
 
OF VIRTUE. 227 
 
 nor can it possibly determine contrary to what it sees to 
 be the true state of the case. 
 
 When, for example, I consider in my own mind, on 
 
 one hand, the various evidence from authors and remains 
 of antiquity, that there was formerly such a state as the 
 Roman, which conquered great part of this side of the 
 globe ; and on the other, find no reason for doubting of 
 the existence of such a state in former times, I find it as 
 reasonable to believe it, and as impossible to doubt it, as 
 to doubt the solution of a question in numbers or quantity, 
 which I had proved by arithmetic, vulgar and decimal, 
 and by Algebra. And so of other instances. So that, 
 though it would not be proper to say, I see, by intuition, 
 the truth of this proposition, " There was once suci a city 
 as Rome;'''' yet I may with the utmost propriety say, I 
 see such a superabundance of evidence for the truth of th& 
 proposition, and at the same time see no reason to think 
 that any valid objections can be brought against it, that I 
 intuitively see the evidence for it to be such as puts it 
 beyond all possibility of being doubted by me, and feel 
 that, though I should labour ever so much to bring my- 
 self to question it, I absolutely cannot ; nor can I conceive 
 it possible that it should appear questionable to any person, 
 who has fairly considered it. 
 
 Suppose, in the same manner, (in a point which has been 
 disputed) a man, of a clear head, to have thoroughly exam- 
 ined all the various evidences for the christian religion, 
 allowing to every one its due weight, and no more ; sup- 
 pose him to have attentively considered every objection 
 against it, allowing, likewise, to every one impartially its 
 full force ; suppose the result of the whole inquiry to be 
 his finding such a preponderancy of evidence for the truth 
 of Christianity, as should beyond all comparison overbal- 
 ance the whole weight of the objections against it ; I say, 
 that such a person would then intuitively see the evidence 
 for ohristianity to be unsurmountable ; and could no more 
 bring himself to doubt it, than to doubt whether all the 
 angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones ; nor to 
 conceive the possibility of any other person's doubting it, 
 who had fairly considered both sides of the question. 
 
 In the same maner a person, who should carefully ex- 
 amine the arguments in a system of ethics, and should 
 
228 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 clearly and convincingly perceive the strength of each, the 
 connexion of one with another, and the result ol the whole ; 
 might in the strictest propriety of speech be said to see 
 intuitively the truth and justness of that system of ethics. 
 
 If so, then it is plain, that certainty is, in the nature of 
 things, equally attainable upon all subjects, though beings 
 of no limited capacity may not, in our present impeifect 
 state, be capable of attaining it. In the same manner as 
 the truth of the most obvious axiom in arithmetic or gcom- 
 etrv, may lie out of the reach of an infant, or an idiot ; 
 which appears self-evident to the first glance of any mind 
 th t is capable of putting two thoughts together. How 
 comes it to pass, that the truth of such an axiom as the 
 following appears immediately incontestable : That if from 
 equal quantities equal quantities be subtracted, equal 
 quantities will remain? How comes, I say, the truth of 
 this axiom to appear at once, while moral doctrines furnish 
 t ■ dless dispute ? The obvious answer is, from the simpli- 
 city of the terms of the proposition, and of what is affirmed 
 of them, which leaves no room for ambiguity or uncer- 
 tainty ; and from the narrowness of the subject to be con- 
 sidered, or the smallness of the number of ideas to be taken 
 in, which prevents all danger of puzzling, or distracting 
 the understanding, and rendering the result or conclusion 
 doubtful. Suppose the arguments for Christianity to be 
 exactly one thousand, and the objections against it exactly 
 one hundred: Suppose an angelic, or other superior un- 
 derstanding, to perceive intuitively the exact state of each ; 
 and to see distinctly the hundred objections to be sur- 
 mountable, or not valid, and the arguments to every one 
 solid and conclusive ; I say, that such a being would 
 intuitively see the truth of Christianity in the same man- 
 ner as a human mind sees the truth of any complex demon- 
 stration in Euclid. 
 
 It is therefore certain, that all evidence whatever is to 
 be finally tried by, and reduced to intuition, except that 
 which we have from sensation : That truth of all kinds is 
 equally capable of being intuitively perceived, and of be- 
 ing ascertained to minds fitted for receiving and examin- 
 ing it : That moral truth is in no respect naturally more 
 vague or precarious than mathematical ; but equally fixed, 
 and equally clear, to superior minds ; and probably 
 
OF VIRTUE. 229 
 
 will be so hereafter to those of the human make, who 
 shall attain to higher improvements in future states: 
 And that in the mean time our duty is to examine care- 
 fullv, and to act upon the result of candid inquiry. 
 
 That we are, in some instances of inconsiderable im- 
 portance to our final happiness, liable to error, is no more 
 than a natural consequence of the imperfection of our 
 present state, and the number of particulars necessary to 
 be taken in, in order to find out the true state of things upon 
 the whole. But this, so far from proving the impossi- 
 bility of coming at truth, or that we are exposed to irre- 
 midable error, shows, that truth is certainly to be attained 
 by such intelligent beings as shall with proper advantages 
 of capacity and means, set themselves to the finding 
 it out with sincerity and diligence. 
 
 The amount of what has been said on moral certainty 
 is briefly as follows, viz. 
 
 That it is self- contradictory to talk of doubting the per- 
 ceptions of our faculties, it being impossible to perceive a 
 truth clearly, and yet to doubt it. 
 
 That our simple ideas being the immediate objects of 
 our understandings, and being level to direct intuition, 
 are capable of being with the greatest exactness examined 
 and compared, in order to finding the truth or false- 
 hood, of any proposition, whose terms are not too com- 
 plex, or otherwise out of the reach of our faculties. And 
 that whatever the understanding clearly determines, after 
 mature examination, to be truth, it is impossible to doubt. 
 
 That whatever any mind really perceives must be real, 
 as far as perceived. That therefore, there must be real 
 truth perceivable, else there could be no perceptive faculty 
 in the universe ; since falsehoods and impossibilities 
 are not in the nature of things perceivable, being non- 
 entities. 
 
 That all kinds of truths appear equally certain to minds 
 capable of investigating them. That moral truth is in 
 its own nature no more vague or precarious, than mathe- 
 matical; though in some instances more difficultly in- 
 vestigated by our narrow and defective faculties. 
 
 That there must be in the nature of things, (the basis 
 of which is the Divine Nature) an eternal, essential, and 
 unchangeable difference in morals; that there is a real, 
 
230 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 not a factitious, or arbitrary, good and evil, a greater and 
 less preferablencss in different characters and actions. 
 That, accordingly, if it had been in the nature of things 
 no way better that an universe should be created, than 
 not ; it is evident, God, who sees all things as they are, 
 would not have seen any reason for creating an universe, 
 and therefore would not have exerted his power in the 
 production of it. 
 
 That the divine attribute of benevolence, is in its own 
 nature, really and essentially, and without all regard to 
 the notions of created beings, and exclusive of all conse- 
 quences, a perfection ; not an indifferent property, as 
 some pretend. For that nothing either evil or indifferent 
 can be conceived of as existing necessarily; but the 
 divine benevolence and all the other attributes of his na- 
 ture exist necessarily. 
 
 That if it was proper or good, to create an universe of 
 beings capable of happiness, it must on the contrary be im- 
 proper, or morally wicked, to endeavour to oppose the 
 divine scheme of benevolence, or to wish innocent beings 
 condemned to misery. There is therefore an eternal and 
 essential, not a factitious, or arbitrary, good and evil in 
 morals ; and the foundation of moral good is in the necesv 
 sary and unchangeable attributes of the Divine Nature. 
 
 That certainty is in the nature of things attainable by 
 sensation. That reality must be the object of sensation, 
 it being impossible to feel what has no existence. That 
 it is impossible to doubt what we perceive by sensation. 
 
 That certainty is in the nature of things attainable by 
 intuition. That the existence of intelligence necessarily 
 supposes that of truth, as the object of understanding. 
 That trudi is a Divine Attribute ; therefore must exist 
 necessarily. That every intelligent mind must be sup- 
 posed capable of intuitively perceiving truth. And that 
 w r e find by experience, we cannot even force ourselves to 
 doubt the truths we intuitively pereeive. 
 
 That such certainty is in the nature of things attain- 
 able in subjects of which we receive information bv de- 
 duction, testimony, and revelation, as renders it impossi- 
 ble for the mind to hesitate or doubt. For that the sum, 
 or result, of all kinds of evidence, however complex and 
 
OF VIRTUE. 231 
 
 various, except what arises from sensation ; is the object 
 of direct intuition. 
 
 To conclude this introduction : were our present state 
 much more disadvantageous than it is ; and did we la- 
 bour under much greater difficulty and uncertainty, than 
 we do, in our search after truth ; prudence would still 
 direct us upon the whole, what course to take. The proba- 
 bility of safety in the main would still be upon the side 
 of virtue : and there would still be reason to fear that vice 
 and irregularity would end ill. This alone would be enough 
 to keep wise and considerate beings to their duty, as far as 
 known. But our condition is very different ; and our 
 knowledge of all necessary truth sufficiently clear, exten- 
 sive and certain. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 The Being and Attributes of God established as the Foun- 
 dation of Morality. 
 
 NOTHING is more indisputable than that something 
 now exists. Every person may say to himself, " I cer- 
 tainly exist ; for I feel that I exist. And I could neither 
 feel that I exist nor be deceived in imagining it, if I 
 was nothing. If, therefore, I exist, the next question 
 is, How came I to be?" Whatever exists, must owe 
 its being, and the particular circumstances of it, to some 
 cause prior to itself, unless it exists necessarily. For 
 a being to exist necessarily, is to exist so as that it 
 was impossible for that being not to have existed, and 
 that the supposition of its not existing should imply a di- 
 rect contradiction in terms. Let any person try to con- 
 ceive of space and duration as annihilated or not existing, 
 and he will find it impossible, and that they will still return 
 upon his mind in spite of all his efforts to the contrary. 
 Such an existence therefore is necessary, of which there 
 is no other account to be given, than that it is the nature 
 of the thing to exist ; and this account is fully satisfying 
 to the mind. 
 
 Whatever difficulty we may find in conceiving of the, 
 particular modus of a necessary existence ; an existence, 
 which always was, and could not but be ; always continu- 
 
232 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 ing, but which never had a beginning ; as all the difficulty 
 of such conceptions evidently arises from the narrow- 
 ness of our finite and limited minds, and as our reason 
 forces us upon granting the reality and necessity of them, it 
 would be contradicting the most irresistible convictions of 
 our reason to dispute them ; and it is indeed out of our 
 power to dispute them. 
 
 To have recourse to an infinite succession of dependant 
 causes, produced by one another from eternin , and to 
 give that as an account of the existence of the world, will 
 give no satisfaction to the mind, but will confound it 
 with an infinite absurdity. For if it be absurd to attempt 
 to conceive of one single dependent being, produced with- 
 out a cause, or existing without being brought into exist- 
 ence by some pre-existing cause, it is infinitely more so 
 to try to conceive of an infinite series of dependent beings 
 existing without being produced by any original and un- 
 created cause; as it would be more shocking to talk of a 
 thousand links of a chain hanging upon nothing, than of 
 one. 
 
 That the material world is not the first cause, is evident ; 
 because the first cause, existing necessarily, without which 
 necessity he could not possibly exist as a first cause, must 
 be absolutely perfect, unchangeable, and every where the 
 same, of which afterwards. ThiJ> we see is by no means 
 to be affirmed of the material world ; its form, motion, 
 and substance, being endlessly various, and subject to per- 
 petual change. That nothing material could have been 
 the necessarily existent first cause is evident, because we 
 know that all material substances consist of a number of 
 unconnected and separable particles : which would give, 
 not one, but a number of first causes, which is a palpable 
 absurdity, And that the first cause cannot be one single 
 indivisible atom is plain, because the first cause, being, 
 necessarily existent, must be equally necessary through- 
 out infinite space. 
 
 That chance, which is only a word, not a real being, 
 should be the cause of the existence of the world, is the 
 same as saying, that nothing is the cause of its existence, or 
 that it neither exists necessarily, nor was produced by 
 that which exists necessarily and therefore does not 
 exist at all. Therefore, after supposing ever so long a 
 
OF VIRTUE. 233 
 
 series of beings producing one another, we must at last 
 have recourse to some First Cause of all, himself uncaused, 
 existing necessarily, or so, as that the supposition of his 
 not existing would imply a contradiction. The first cause 
 wc call, God. 
 
 The first cause must of necessity be one, in the most 
 pure, simple, and indivisible manner. For the first cause 
 must exist necessarily, that is, it is a direct absurdity to 
 say, that something now exists, and yet there is no original 
 first cause of existence. Now when to avoid this absur- 
 dity, we have admitted one independent, necessarily exist- 
 ent first cause, if we afterwards proceed to admit another 
 first cause, or number of first causes, we shall find, that 
 all but one are superfluous. Because one is sufficient to 
 account for the existence of all things. And as it will 
 evidently be no contradiction to suppose any one out of 
 a plurality not to exist, since one alone is sufficient ; it fol- 
 lows, that there can be but one single first cause. 
 
 Besides, it will be made evident by and by, that the 
 first cause must be absolutely perfect in every possible 
 respect, and in every possible degree. Now that which 
 ingrosses and swallows up into itself all possible perfection, 
 or rather is itself absolute perfection, can be but one; be- 
 cause there can be but one absolute Whole of perfection. 
 
 We may possibly, through inattention, commit mis- 
 takes with respects to what are, or are not, perfections, fit 
 to be ascribed to the first cause/ as some of the heathens 
 were absurd enough to ascribe even to their supreme deity, 
 attributes which ought rather to be termed vices than 
 virtues. But we can never mistake in ascribing to the 
 Supreme Being all possible, real, and consistent perfec- 
 tions. For a being, who exists naturally and neces- 
 sarily, must of necessity exist in an infinite and un- 
 bounded manner ; the ground of his existence being alike 
 in all moments of duration, and all points of space, 
 Whatever exists naturally and necessarily in the east, 
 must of course exist naturally and necessarily in the west, 
 in the south, and in the north, above and below, in for- 
 mer, present and in future times. Whatever exists in 
 this manner, exists in a perfect manner. Whatever exists 
 in a perfect manner, in respect of extent and duration, 
 must evidentlv be perfect in everv other respect of which 
 
 2G 
 
234 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 its nature is capable. For the whole idea of such a being is 
 by the supposition natural and necessary ; a partial necessi- 
 ty being an evident absurdity. That the first cause therefore 
 should be deficient inany one perfection consistent with the 
 nature of such a Being as we must conclude the first cause 
 to be, is as evident a contradiction as to say, that the first cause 
 may naturally and necessarily exist in the east, and not in 
 the west, at present, but not in time past or to come. For 
 suppose it were argued, that the first cause may not be 
 infinite, for example, in wisdom; I ask first, Whether 
 wisdom can be said to be a property unsuitable to the idea 
 of the first cause? This will hardly be pretended. No 
 one can imagine it would be a more proper idea of the first 
 cause, to think of him as of a being utterly void of intelli- 
 gence, than as infinite in knowledge. It is evident that 
 of two beings, otherwise alike, but one of which was wholly 
 void of intelligence, and the other possessed of it, the latter 
 would be more perfect than the former, by the difference 
 of the whole amount of the intelligence he possessed. On 
 the other hand, of two beings otherwise alike, but one of 
 which laboured under a vicious inclination, which occa- 
 sioned a deviation from, or deficiency of moral perfection, 
 and the other was wholly clear of such imperfection, the 
 latter would be a more perfect nature than the former, by 
 the difference of the whole amount of such negative quan- 
 tity, or deficiency. Which shows the necessity of ascrib- 
 ing to the Supreme Being every possible real perfection, 
 and the absurdity of supposing the smallest imperfection 
 or deficiency to be in his nature. 
 
 If it be evident then that wisdom, inany, the lowest 
 degree, is an attribute fit to be ascribed to the first cause, 
 and if whatever is in the first cause, is in him naturally 
 and necessarily, that is, could not but have been in him, it 
 is obvious, that such an attribute cannot be in him in any 
 limited degree, any more than he can naturally and neces- 
 sarily exist in one point of space, and not through all. 
 It is an evident contradiction to suppose the first cause 
 existing naturally and necessarily, and yet limited, either as 
 to his existence or perfections ; because it is plain, there 
 can be nothing to limit them, which is the same as saying, 
 that they must be unlimited. Farther, whatever is in the 
 nature or essence of the first cause, must be in him natu 
 
OF VIRTUE. 235 
 
 tally and necessarily ; that is, is an essential attribute of 
 his nature, or could not but have been in his nature*; for if 
 it had been possible that his nature could have been with- 
 outany particular attribute, it certainly would, by the very 
 supposition. Now, whatever is necessarily an attribute of 
 Deity, is Deiry. And limited Deity is a contradiction as 
 much as limited infinity. For infinity is unbounded, 
 knowledge is unbounded, power is unbounded, goodness 
 is unbounded. These and the rest are the necessary attri- 
 butes of Deity. And as they are in him, they together 
 form the idea of Supreme Deity. The Deity, or First 
 Cause, must therefore be possessed of every possible per- 
 fection in an infinite degree ; all those perfections being 
 naturally infinite, and there being nothing to limit the 
 Deity, or his perfections. 
 
 We cannot therefore avoid concluding, that the first 
 cause is possessed of infinite intelligence, or knowledge, 
 that his infinite mind is a treasure of an infinity of truths, 
 that he has ever had at all moments from all eternity, and 
 ever will to all eternity have in his view, and in actual con- 
 templation, all things that ever have existed, that do now, 
 or ever shall exist, throughout infinite space and duration, 
 with all their connexions, relations, dependences, grada- 
 tions, proportions, differences, contrasts, causes, effects, 
 and all circumstances of all kinds, with the ideas of all 
 things which are merely possible, or whose existence does 
 not imply a contradiction, though they have never actu- 
 ally existed, with all their possible relations, connexions, 
 and circumstances, whose idea is conceivable. In one 
 word, the Divine mind must comprehend all things that 
 by their nature are capable of being known or conceived. 
 
 From the same necessary connexion between the infin- 
 ity of the first cause in one particular, and in all, we cannot 
 avoid concluding, that he must be infinite in goodness, it 
 being self-evident, that goodness or benevolence must in 
 any state of things be a perfection, and the want of any 
 degree of it a deficiency. To be infinite in goodness is to 
 possess such benevolence of nature, as no conceivable or 
 possible measure of goodness, can exceed, or which can 
 never be satisfied with exerting itself in acts of goodness, 
 in a manner suitable to propriety and rectitude. 
 
 Here a proper distinction ought to be made between 
 
236 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 goodness and mercv. Though it is demonstrably certain, 
 that the Supreme Being is infinite in goodness, we must 
 not imagine he is infinite in mercv. Because we can sup- 
 pose innumerable cases, in which mercy to particulars 
 would imply a defect of goodness upon the whole. In 
 such cases, it is evident, that the greatest goodness, upon 
 the whole, will appear in refusing mercy to particulars; 
 not in granting it. We must therefore conclude, that 
 mercy will certainly be refused to all such offenders, whom 
 justice and goodness to the whole require to be punished. 
 Thus the divine goodness is not boundless in its extent, 
 but only regulated in its exertion by wisdom and justice. 
 
 From the same necessity for concluding that the first 
 cause must be uniformly, and in all consistent respects 
 infinite, we must conclude, that he is possessed of an in- 
 finite degree of power; it being evident, that power is a 
 a perfection, and preferable to weakness. Infinite power 
 signifies a power at all moments from eternity to eterni- 
 ty, and throughout all space, to produce or perform what- 
 ever does not either in the nature of the thing imply an 
 express contradiction, as making something to be, and 
 not to be at the same time, or opposers of the other per- 
 fections of his nature, as the doing something unjust, 
 cruel, or foolish. And indeed all such things are properly 
 impossilities. Because it is altogether as impossible that 
 a Being unchangeably just, good, and wise, should ever 
 change so as to act contrary to his essential character, as 
 that a thing should be and not be at the same time. 
 
 From the same necessity of concluding upon the uni- 
 form and universal infinity of the first cause, we cannot 
 avoid concluding, that he is infinite injustice and truth, it 
 being self-evident, that truth is a perfection, and prefera- 
 ble to falsehood. The divine nature must be the very 
 standard of truth ; he must be entirely master of the exact 
 state of all things, and of all their relations and connex- 
 ions ; he must see the advantage of acting according to 
 the true state of things, and the right state of the case, 
 rather than according to any false or fictitious one ; and 
 must perceive, more generally and universally than any 
 creature, that the consequence of universal truth must be 
 universal order, perfection, and happiness ; and of uni- 
 
OF VIRTUE. 237 
 
 versal falsehood and deception, universal misery and con- 
 fusion. 
 
 If there be any other natural or moral perfections, for 
 which we have no names, and of which we have no ideas, it 
 is evident, not only that they must be in the divine nature ; 
 but that they must exist in Him in an unlimited degree. 
 Or, to speak properly, every possible and consistent per- 
 fection takes its origin from its being an attribute of the 
 Divine Nature, and exists by the same original necessity 
 of nature, as the infinite mind itself, the substratum of all 
 perfection exists. So that the necessity of existence of 
 the moral perfections of the Deity is the very same as that 
 of the natural. Try to annihilate space, or immensity, in 
 your mind ; and you will find it impossible. For it ex- 
 ists necessarily ; and is an attribute of Deity. Try to 
 annihilate the idea of rectitude in your mind ; and you 
 will find it equally impossible ; the idea of rectitude, as 
 somewhat real, will still return upon the understanding. 
 Rectitude is therefore a necessary attribute of Deity ; and 
 all the divine moral attributes, of which we have any 
 ideas, are only rectitude differently exerted. And the 
 rectitude of the Divine Nature is the proper basis and 
 foundation of moral good in the disposition or practice of 
 every moral agent in the universe ; or in other words, 
 virtue, in an intelligent and free creature, of whatever 
 rank in the scale of being, is nothing else than a conform- 
 ity of disposition and practice to the necessary, eternal, 
 and unchangeable rectitude of the Divine Nature. 
 
 Of every positive simple idea that can enter into our 
 minds, it may be said, that it is either something belong- 
 ing to the Divine Nature (to speak according to our im- 
 perfect way) or it is a work of his, or of some creature of 
 his. We do not say, God, made immensity or space, 
 duration, or eternity, truth, benevolence, rectitude, and 
 the rest. But these are clear, positive, simple ideas in our 
 minds. Therefore they must exist. But if they exist, 
 and yet are not made by God, they must be necessarily 
 existent. Now we know, that nothing exists necessarily, 
 but what is an attribute of Deity, that is, one of our im- 
 perfect and partial conceptions of his infinite nature, 
 which engrosses and swallows up all possible perfections. 
 
 Though we have here treated of the perfections of the 
 
238 OF VIRTUE 
 
 first cause separately, and one after the other, we are not tu 
 form to ourselves an idea of the Supreme Being, as con- 
 sisting of separable or discerptible parts, to be conceived 
 of singly, and independently on one another. In treating of 
 the human mind, we say it consists of the faculties of un- 
 derstanding, will, memory, and so forth. But this evi- 
 dently conveys a false idea of the mind. It is the whole 
 mind that understands, wills, loves, hates, remembers, 
 sees, hears, and feels, and performs all the other functions 
 of a living agent. And to conceive of its faculties as sepa- 
 rable from or independent on one another, is forming a 
 very absurd notion of mind which cannot be considered as 
 consisting of parts, or as capable of division. When we 
 say whatever is an attribute of Deity is a Deity itself, 
 which is demonstrably true, we ought to understand it in 
 the same manner as when we say, that whatever is a faculty 
 of the human mind is the mind itself. Thus, through 
 immensity alone, truth alone, infinite power or wisdom 
 alone, though no one of these perfections alone is the full 
 and complete idea of Deity, any more than understanding 
 alone, will alone, or memory alone, is of the human mind, 
 yet all the first, together with the other attributes, as they 
 subsist in the Divine mind, are Deity, and all the latter, 
 with the other mental powers, are the human mind,, and yet 
 neither the former nor the latter can be conceived of as 
 divisible or made up of parts. 
 
 As the necessary existence and absolute perfection of 
 God render it proper and reasonable to ascribe to him the 
 creation of the universe ; so his omnipresence, infinite 
 power, and wisdom, make it reasonable to conclude that he 
 can, with the utmost facility, without interruption, for in- 
 finite ages, conduct and govern both the natural and moral 
 world. Though the doctrine of providence is found in 
 the writings of the wise heathens, and is therefore com- 
 monly considered as a point of natural religion : yet, as 
 revelation only sets it in a clear and satisfactory light* I 
 shall put off what I have to say upon it to the fourth book. 
 
 Our being utterly incapable of forming any shadow of 
 an idea adequate to the true nature and essence of the Su- 
 preme Being, is no more an objection against the certainty 
 of his existence, than the impossibility of our conceiving 
 of infinite beginningless duration, is against its reality. 
 
OF VIRTUE. 239 
 
 What our reason compels us to admit, must not be reject- 
 ed, because too big for our narrow minds to comprehend, 
 nor indeed can we reject it, if we would. 
 
 Let us therefore do our utmost to conceive of the Su- 
 preme Being, as the one independent, necessarily existent, 
 unchangeable, eternal, immense, and universal mind, the 
 foundation, or substratum of infinite space, duration, pow- 
 er, wisdom, goodness, justice, and every other possible 
 perfection; without beginning, without end, without parts, 
 bounds, limits, or defects; the cause of all things, himself 
 uncaused; the preserver of all things, himself depending 
 on no one ; the upholder of all things, himself upheld by 
 no one ; from all moments of eternity, to all moments of 
 eternity ; enjoying the perfection of happiness, without 
 the possibility of addition or diminution ; before all, above 
 all, and in all ; possessing eternity and immensity, so as 
 to be at once and for ever fully master of every point of 
 the one, and moment of the other, pervading all matter, 
 but unaffected by all matter ; bestowing happiness on all, 
 without receiving from any ; pouring forth without mea- 
 sure his good gifts, but never diminishing his riches : let 
 us in a word think of him as the All, the Whole, the Per- 
 fection of Perfection. 
 
 While we view his adorable excellences accordingtoour 
 limited and partial manner, let us take care not to conceive 
 of him as made up of parts, who is the most perfect unity. 
 While we consider, in succession, his several attributes 
 of power, wisdom, goodness, and the rest, let us take care 
 not to form a complex or compounded idea of him, whose 
 essence is absolutely pure and simple. We are not to think 
 of various attributes and then superadd the idea of God 
 to them. The perfection or abstract of wisdom, power, 
 goodness, and every other attribute, in one simple idea, 
 in the one Universal Mind, which fills infinitude, is the 
 most perfect idea we can form of incomprehensible Deity. 
 
 Here is a Deity truly worthy to be adored ! What are 
 the Jupiter s and Junos of the heathens to such a God ? 
 What is the common notion of the object of worship ; a 
 venerable personage sitting in heaven, and looking down 
 upon the world below with a very acute and penetrating eye 
 (whicli I doubt is the general notion among the unthink- 
 ing part of christians) what is such a God to the immense 
 and unlimited nature we have been considering ! 
 
240 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 An Idea of the Divine Scheme in Creation. The happi- 
 ness of conscious Beings, the only End for which they 
 were brought into Existence. Happiness, its founda- 
 tion. Universal Concurrence of all Beings, with the 
 Divine Scheme absolutely necessary to universal Hap- 
 piness. 
 
 SO far we have gone upon a rational foundation in estab- 
 lishing the existence of God, and his being possessed of 
 all possible perfections. From the absolute and unchange- 
 able perfection and happiness of God, it appears, as ob- 
 served above, that his design, in creating, must have been, 
 in consistency with wisdom and rectitude, to produce and 
 communicate happiness. This must be kept in view 
 throuo-hout the whole of the scheme. When we think of 
 the Creator as laying the plan of his universe, we must 
 endeavour to enlarge our ideas so, as to conceive properly 
 of what would be worthy of an infinitely capacious and 
 perfect mind, to project. No partial, unconnected, or incon- 
 sistent design would have suited Infinite Wisdom. The 
 work of a God must be great, uniform, and perfect. It 
 must, in one word, be an Universe. 
 
 In such a plan, where all was to be full, and no void, or 
 chasm, it is evident, there must be an extensive variety, 
 and innumerable different degrees of excellence and per- 
 fection in things animate and inanimate, suitable to the 
 respective places to be filled by each, higher or lower, 
 rising one above another by a just and easy gradation. — 
 This we can accordingly trace in the small part of the scale 
 of being, which our observation takes in. From crude, 
 unprepared dust, or earth, we proceed to various strata 
 impregnated with some higher qualities. From thence 
 to pebbles, and other fossil substances, which seem to be 
 endowed With a sort of vegetative principle. Next we pro- 
 ceed from the lowest and simplest of vegetables, up to the 
 highest and most curious; among which the sensitive plant 
 seems to partake of something like animal life. As the 
 polype and some other reptiles, seem to descend a little, 
 as if to meet the vegetable creation. Then we come to 
 animals endowed with the sense of feeling and tasting only, 
 
OF VIRTUE. 241 
 
 as various shell-fish. After them follow such as have more 
 senses, till we come to those that possess somewhat anal- 
 ogies to human faculties, as the faithfulness of dogs, the 
 generous courage of the horse, the sagacity of the elephant, 
 and the mischievous low cunning of the fox and ape. Sup- 
 pose a human creature, of the meanest natural abilities, 
 from its birth deprived of the faculty of speech, how much 
 would it be superior to a monkey ? How much is a Hot- 
 tentot superior "? From such a human mind we may pro- 
 ceed to those which are capable of the common arts of life ; 
 and from them onward to such as have some degree of ca- 
 pacity for some one branch of art or science. Then we 
 may go on to those, who are endowed with minds suscep- 
 tible of various parts of knowledge. From which there 
 are a great many degrees of natural capacities, rising one 
 above another, before we reach such a divine spirit as that 
 of a Newton. Perhaps some of the lower orders of angelic 
 natures might not be raised above him at a much greater 
 distance, than he was above some of his species. 
 
 Even among the inhabitants of different elements there 
 is an analogy kept up. Various species of fishes approach 
 very nearly to beasts, who live on dry land, in form and 
 constitution. Several species unite the aquatic and ter- 
 restrial characters in one. The bat and owl join the bird 
 and beast kinds ; so that the different natures run almost 
 into another ; but never meet so closely, as to confound 
 the distinction. 
 
 Thus, so far as we can trace the divine plan of creation, 
 all is full, and all connected ! And we may reasonably 
 conclude, that the same uniformity amidst variety takes 
 place through the universal scale of being above our spe- 
 cies, as well as below it, in other worlds as well as ours. 
 This was to be expected in an universal system planned 
 by one immense and all-comprehending mind. 
 
 Considering the unbounded and unlimited perfections 
 of the first cause, who has existed from eternity, has had 
 an infinite space to act in, an infinity of wisdom to suggest 
 schemes, and infinite power to put those schemes in exe- 
 cution for effecting whatever infinite goodness might ex- 
 cite him to propose : considering these things, what ideas 
 may we form of the actual exertion of such perfections ; 
 What mav thev not have produced ; what may thev not 
 
 2 H 
 
£42 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 be every moment producing ; what may they nut product 
 throughout an endless eternity ! There is no determinate 
 time we can fix for infinite wisdom, power, and goodness 
 to have begun to exert themselves in creating, but what 
 will imply an eternity past, without any exertion of creat- 
 ing power. And it is not easy to suppose Infinite Good- 
 ness to have let an eternity pass without exerting itself in 
 bringing any one creature into existence. Whither then 
 does this lead us ; There is no point in eternity past, in 
 which we can conceive, that it would have been improper 
 for infinite wisdom, power, and goodness to have been ex- 
 erted. And he, who from all eternity has had power, in all 
 probability has from all eternity had will or inclination to 
 communicate his goodness. Let us try to imagine then, 
 what may be the whole effect of infinite power, wisdom, 
 and goodness exerted through an infinite duration past, 
 and in an unbounded space. What ought to be the num- 
 ber of productions of infinite power, wisdom, and good- 
 ness, throughout immensity and eternity ? What may 
 we suppose the present degree of perfection of beings, 
 who have existed from periods distant from the present 
 beyond all reach of human numbers, and have been con- 
 stantly improving ? What degrees of knowledge, of power, 
 of goodness, may such beings have by this time acquired? 
 Let readers., who have accustomed themselves to such 
 trains of thinking, pursue these views to their full extent. 
 To add here all that may be deduced from such consider- 
 ations, may not be necessary. 
 
 It is afterwards demonstrated, that the happiness of the* 
 proper creature was the sole view, which the Divine Wis- 
 dom could have in producing an universe. Now, happi- 
 ness being a primary or simple idea, it neither needs, nor 
 is capable of any explanation, or of being expressed, but 
 by some synonymous term, which likewise communi- 
 cates a simple idea, as satisfaction, pleasure, or such like. 
 But it is of good use to understand what makes real happi- 
 ness, and how to attain it. The foundation or ground of 
 happiness, then, is " A conscious being's finding itself in 
 that state, and furnished with all those advantages*, which 
 are the most suitable to its nature, and the most condu- 
 cive to its improvement and perfection.'" 
 
 Here is a subject for an angel to preach upon, and the 
 
OF VIRTUE. 243 
 
 iv hole human race to be his audience. It is the very sub- 
 ject, which the ambassador of heaven came to this world 
 to treat of, and explain to mankind. 
 
 Happiness is no imaginary or arbitrary thing. It is 
 what it is by the unalterable nature of things, and the Di- 
 vine Ordination. In treating of such subjects, it is com- 
 mon to speak of the nature of things separately frorr 
 positive will of the Supreme Being. To understand this 
 matter rightly, it is necessary to remember, that in the na- 
 ture of things, the Divine Nature is included, or rather is 
 the foundation of all. Thus when it is here said, that 
 happiness is fixed according to the unalterable nature ol 
 things, as well as determined by the positive will of God, 
 the. meaning is, that the Supreme Being, in determining 
 what should be the happiness of the creature, and how he 
 should attain it, has acted according to the absolute rec • 
 titude of his own nature. 
 
 But to return, no creature is, or can be so formed, as to 
 continue steadily and uniformly happy, through the whole 
 of its existence, at the same time that it is in a state un- 
 suitable to its nature, and deprived of all the advantages 
 necessary for its improvement and perfection. It is a di- 
 rect and self-evident impossibility, that such a creature 
 should be. Were the foundation of happiness dependent 
 upon the respective imaginations of different ' creatures, 
 what occasion for all the pompous apparatus we know has 
 been made for preparing the human species for happiness ? 
 Had it been possible, or consistent with the Divine per- 
 fections and nature of things, that mere fancy should have 
 been a foundation for happiness, there had needed no 
 more than to have lulled the creature into a-pleasing delu- 
 sion, a golden dream, out of which he should never have 
 waked. And there is no doubt, but, if the happiness of 
 our species and other rational agents could, properly, have 
 been brought about in this, or any other less laborious 
 manner, than that which is appointed, there is not the 
 least doubt, I say, but the unbounded wisdom and good- 
 ness of the Governor of the world, who brought them into 
 being on 'purpose for happiness, and cannot but choose 
 the easiest and best ways for gaining his ends, would 
 have brought them to happiness in such a way. But it is 
 •evident, that then man could not have been man, that i\. 
 
OF VIRTUE. 
 
 an intelligent, free agent ; therefore could not have filled 
 his place in the scale of being ; for as he stands in the 
 place between angles and brutes, he must have been ex- 
 actly what he is, or not have been at all. An infinitely 
 perfect author, if he creates at all, will necessarily produce 
 a work free from chasms and blunders. And to think of 
 the God of truth as producing a rational, intelligent crea- 
 ture, whose whole happiness should be a deception ; what 
 can be conceived more absurd or impious ? If such a crea- 
 ture is formed for contemplating truth, could he likewise 
 have been brought into existence, to be irresistibly led 
 into a delusion "? To what end a faculty of reasoning, to 
 be, by his very make and state, drawn into unavoidable 
 error ? 
 
 Besides all this, let any man try to conceive in his own 
 mind the possibility of bringing "about a general and uni- 
 versal happiness upon any other footing, than the concur- 
 rence of all things, in one general and uniform course, to 
 rat and important end ; let anv man trv to conceive 
 
 5, I say, and he will find it in vain. If the foundation 
 
 r.niversal happiness be, Even- being's finding itself in 
 such circumstances as best suit's its nature and state, is it 
 possible, that every being should find itself in those cir- 
 cumstances, if every being acted a part unsuitable to its 
 
 are and state? On the contrary, a deviation from that 
 conduct, which suits a reasonable nature, is the very defini- 
 of moral evil. And even- deviation tends to "produce 
 disorder and unhappiness. And even- lesser degree of 
 such deviation tends to draw on greater", and this deviation 
 into irregularity would in the end produce universal unhap- 
 piness; but that it is over-ruled by superior Wisdom and 
 GooA — So that, instead of the sophistical maxim, 
 That private vices are public benefits," we may establish 
 one much more just; "That thm smallest irregularities, 
 unrestrained, and encouraged, tend to produce universal 
 confusion and misen-."' 
 
 In consequence of the above account of the true foam 
 
 f happiness, it is plain, that different natures will 
 
 require a different provision for their happiness. The mere 
 
 animal will want only what is necessary -for the support of 
 
 the individual, and the species. Whatever is superadded 
 
 that, will be found superfluous and useless, and will 
 
OF VIRTUE. ^45 
 
 go unenjoycd by the animal. But for a higher nature, 
 such as that of man, another sort of apparatus mus; be 
 provided. Inasmuch as he partakes of the animal, as well 
 as the rational nature, it is plain he cannot be completely 
 happv with a provision made for only one half of his nature. 
 He will therefore need whatever may be requisite for the 
 support and comfort of the bod}', as well as for the improve- 
 ment of the mind. For the happiness of an angel, or 
 other superior power, a provision greatly superior, and 
 more sublime, than all that we can conceive, may be neces- 
 sary. And the higher the nature, the more noble a hap- 
 piness it is capable of. The perfect happiness enjoyed 
 by the Supreme Being is the necessary consequence of 
 the absolute and unlimited perfection of his nature. 
 
 The supreme mind, in laving the plan of an universe, 
 must evidently have proposed a general scheme, which 
 should take in all the various orders of being; a scheme in 
 which all, or as many as possible of the particulars should 
 come to happiness, but in such a manner, as that the 
 happiness of the whole should be consistent with that of 
 individuals, and that of individuals with that of the whole, 
 and with the nature of things, or, more properly, with the 
 Divine Rectitude. We cannot imagine Infinite Wisdom 
 proposing a particular scheme for every individual, when 
 the end might be gained by a general one. For, to gain 
 various ends by one means, is a proof of wisdom. As, 
 on the contrary, to have recourse to different means, to 
 gain an end, which might have been obtained by one, is 
 of weakness. 
 
 Let the universal plan of things have been what it would , 
 it is evident, that, in order to general and universal per- 
 fection, it is absolutely necessary, that in general, all things 
 inanimate, animate and rational, concur in one design, and 
 co-operate, in a regular and uniform manner, to carry on 
 the grand view. To suppose any one part or member to 
 be left out of the general scheme, left to itself, to proceed 
 at random, is absurd. The consequence of such an error 
 must unavoidably be, a confusion in the grand machinery, 
 extending as far as the sphere of such a part or member 
 extended. And it is probable that no created being, espe- 
 cially of the lowest ranks, has extensive enough views of 
 things, to know exactly the part it ought to act, it is plain. 
 
246 OP VIRTUE. 
 
 that proper means and contrivances must have been used 
 by Him who sees through the whole, for keeping those 
 beings to their proper sphere, and bringing them toper- 
 form their respective parts, so as to concur to the perfection 
 and happiness of the whole. • 
 
 The inanimate is the low est part of the creation, or the 
 lowest order of being. As it is of itself incapable of hap- 
 piness it it plain that all it is fit for, is to contribute to the 
 happiness of beings capable of enjoying it. To make 
 inanimate matter perform its part in the grand scheme, 
 nothing will answer, but superior power or force, as, by 
 the very supposition of its being inanimate, it is only 
 capable of being acted upon, not of acting. So that every 
 motion, every tendency to motion, in every single atom 
 of matter in tlie universe, must be affected by the agency of 
 some living principle. Anel without being acted by 
 some living principle, no one atom of matter in the uni- 
 verse could have changed its state from motion to rest, or 
 from rest to motion ; but must have remained for ever in 
 the state it was first created in. 
 
 The Supreme Mind being, as we have seen universally 
 present in every point of infinite space, where there is or 
 is not, any created being, material, or immaterial, must 
 be intimately present to every atom of matter, and every 
 spiritual being, throughout the universe. His power is, 
 as we have seen, necessarily infinite, or irresistibe; and 
 his wisdom perfect. It is therefore evidently no more, 
 nor so much, for a Being, endowed with such an ad- 
 vantageous superiority over the material creation, to 
 actuate the vast universe, as for a man to move his finger 
 or eye-lid. His presence extending through infinitude, 
 puts every atom of matter in the universe within his reach. 
 His power being irresistible, enables him to wield the most 
 enormous masses, as whole planets at once, with any 
 degree of rapidity, with as little difficulty, or rather infi- 
 nitely less, than a man can the lightest ball. And his 
 wisdom being absolutely perfect, he cannot but know ex- 
 actly in what manner to direct, regulate, and actuate the 
 whole material machine of the world, so as it may the best 
 answer his various, wise, and noble purposes. And it is 
 certain, that all the motions and revolutions, all the ten- 
 dencies and inclinations, as they are commonlv, for wart 
 
OF VIRTUE. 247 
 
 of better terms, called ; all the laws of nature, the cohesion 
 of bodies, the attraction and gravitation of planets, efflux 
 of light from luminous bodies, with all the laws they arc 
 subject to, must be finally resolved into the action of the 
 Supreme Being, or of beings employed by him, whatever 
 intervening instrumentality may be made use of. Thus 
 the inanimate creation is wrought to the Divine purpose 
 by superior power, or force. 
 
 To bring the animal, irrational natures to perform their 
 part in the general scheme, it was necessary to endow 
 them with a fcw strong and powerful inclinations, or ap- 
 petites, which should from time to time solicit them to 
 ease the pain of desire by gratifying them ; and to give 
 them capacity enough to consult their own preservation 
 by means fit for the purpose, which are easily found. Be- 
 sides instinct, they seem to be endowed with a kind of 
 faculty in some measure analogous to our reason, which 
 restrains and regulates instinct, so that we observe, they 
 show something like thought and sagacity in their pur- 
 suit of their gratifications, and even show some traces of 
 reflection, gratitude, faithfulness, and the like. Their ap- 
 prehensions being but weak, and their sphere of action 
 narrow, they have it not generally in their power, as crea- 
 tures of superior capacities, and endowed with extensive 
 liberty, to go out of the tract prescribed them, and run 
 into irregularity. By these means, the brute creatures 
 are worked to the Divine purpose, and made to fill their 
 subordinate sphere, and contribute, as far as that ex- 
 tends, to the regularity, perfection and happiness of the 
 whole. 
 
 We come now to what we reckon the third rank of be- 
 ing, the rational creation : which must likewise, accord- 
 ing to the Divine scheme, concur with the other parts r 
 and contribute in their sphere to the perfection and happi- 
 ness of the universal system. 
 
 The rational world being the part the most necessary, 
 and of the greatest importance, as their happiness was the 
 principal view the Supreme Being must have had in the crea- 
 tion, their concurrence is what can the least be dispensed 
 with. Should the whole material system run to ruin : 
 should suns be lost in eternal darkness ; planets and com- 
 ets rush out on all sides into the infinite expanse, or the 
 
248 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 fixed stars leave their stations, and dash against one an- 
 other ; and should an universal sentence of annihilation 
 be passed upon the animal world ; the destruction of both 
 the inanimate and animal creation would not be so great a 
 disturbance of the Divine scheme, would not be such an 
 important breach of the general order and regularity neces- 
 sary to universal perfection and happiness, as a general 
 defect of concurrence or irregularity and opposition, in 
 the rational world, for whose happiness, the inferior crea- 
 tion was brought into being, and whose happiness, should 
 it totally miscarry, the Divine scheme must be totallv de- 
 feated. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 Of the Nature of Man, and Immortality of the Soul, 
 
 IN order to understand what it is for our species to con- 
 cur, in a proper manner, with the Divine scheme, and to 
 observe what wise means have been contrived by the Di- 
 vine wisdom and goodness for bringing us to the requisite 
 concurrence in consistence with our nature and state, it 
 will be necessary to consider a little the human nature and 
 character. 
 
 It is commonly said, that we understand matter better 
 than spirit ; that we know less of our souls than of our 
 bodies. But this is only a vulgar error. And the truth 
 is, that we know nothing of the internal substance of either 
 one or the other. But we know enough of the properties 
 and state of both, to know how to seek the good of both, 
 would we but act according to our knowledge. 
 
 That which raises the human make above the brute 
 creatures, is our having capacities, which enable us to lake 
 more extensive views, and penetrate farther into the na- 
 tures and connexions of things, than inferior creatures ; 
 our having a faculty of abstract reflexions ; so that we can 
 at pleasure, call up to our minds any subject we have 
 formerly known, which, for aught that appears, the infer- 
 ior creatures cannot do, nor excite in themselves the idea 
 of an absent object, but what their senses, cither directlv 
 or indirectly, recai to their memory ; and lastly, that we 
 nre naturally, till we come to be debauched, more masters 
 
OF VIRTUE. 249 
 
 o£ our passions and appetites, or more free to choose and 
 refuse, than the inferior creatures. 
 
 It is impossible to put together any consistent theory of 
 our nature, or state, without taking in the thought of our 
 being intended for immortality. If we attempt to think 
 of our existence as terminating with this life, all is ab- 
 rupt, confused, and unaccountable. But when the pres- 
 ent is considered as a state of discipline, and introduction 
 to endless improvement hereafter ; though we cannot say, 
 that we see through the whole scheme, we yet see so 
 much of wisdom and design, as to lead us to conclude 
 with reason, that the whole is contrived in the most proper 
 manner for gaining the important end of preparing us for 
 immortal happiness and glory. 
 
 And that it is reasonable to believe our species formed 
 for immortality, will appear first, by considering the na- 
 ture of the mind itself, which is indeed, properly speak- 
 ing, the being ; for the body is only a system of matter 
 inhabited and actuated by the living spirit. 
 
 That the mind may, in a dependence upon the infinite 
 Author of life and being, continue to exist after the dis- 
 solution of the body, there is no reason to question. For 
 individuality and indiscerpibility being inseparable proper- 
 ties of mind, it is plain that a mind can die only by anni- 
 hilation. But no one can show that there is any connexion 
 between death and annihilation. On the contrary, the mor- 
 tal body itself is certainly not annihilated at death, nor any 
 way altered in its essence, only its condition and circum- 
 stances are not the same as when animated by the living- 
 principle which is also the case of the mind. But if the 
 mind be a principle originally capable of thought and self- 
 motion by its own nature ; it follows, that it may for any thing 
 we know, think and act in one state as well as another ; in a 
 future as well as in the present. If it were possible to con- 
 ceive of a material, thinking, and self-moving principle, 
 which is a flat contradiction, inactivity being inseparable 
 from the idea of matter ; yet it would not thence follow, 
 that the thinking principle must lose its existence at the 
 dissolution of the gross body. The moral proofs for the 
 future existence of the human species would still remain in 
 force, whether we were considered as embodied spirits, 
 or as mere bodv. Nor is there anv contradiction in the 
 
 2 T 
 
J50 C>F VIRTUE. 
 
 idea of an immortal bod}', any more than of an immortal 
 spirit; nor is any being; immortal, but by dependence on 
 the Divine Supporting Power. Nor dots the notion of the 
 possibility of a faculty of thinking, superadded to matter, 
 at all effect 'the point in question. Though it is certain, 
 that a pretended system of matter w ith a thinking faculty, 
 must either be nothing more than matter animated by spirit 
 or a substance of a quite opposite nature to all that we call 
 matter, about which we cannot reason, having no ideas of 
 it. Farther, we have reason to conclude, that the body 
 depends on the mind for life and motion ; not the mind 
 on the body. We find, that the mind is not impaired by 
 the loss of whole limbs of the body ; that the mind is often 
 very active, when the body is at rest; that the mind cor- 
 rects the errors presented to it through the senses ; that 
 even in the decay, disorder, or total suspension, of the 
 senses, the mind is affected just as she might be expect- 
 ed to be, when obliged to use outward instruments, and 
 to have wrong representations, and false impressions, forc- 
 ed upon her, or when deprived of all traces, and quite put 
 out of her element. For, the case of persons intoxicated 
 with liquor, or in a dream, or raving in a fever, or distract- 
 ed, all which have a resemblance to one another, may be 
 conceived of in the following manner. The mind, or 
 thinking being, which at present receives impressions only 
 by means of the material organ of the brain, and the senses 
 through which intelligence is communicated into the brain ; 
 the mind, I say , being at present confined to act only within 
 the dark cell of the brain, and to receive very lively im- 
 pressions from it, which is a consequence of a law of nature, 
 to us inexplicable ; may be exactly in the same manner 
 affected by the impressions made on the brain by a disease, 
 or other accidental cause, as if they were made by some- 
 real external object. For example, if in a violent fever, 
 or a frenzy, the same impressions be, by a preternatural 
 flow of the animal spirits, made- on .he retina of the eye, 
 as would be made if the person was to be in a field of bat- 
 tle, where two armies were engaged ; and if at the same 
 time it happened, that by the same means the same im- 
 pressions should be made on the auditory nerve, as would 
 be made if the person were within hearing of the noise of 
 drums, the clangour of trumpets, and the shouts of men ; 
 
OF VIRTUE. 251 
 
 how should the spiritual being, immured as she is in her 
 dark cell, and unused to such a deception as this, how 
 should we know it was a deception any more than an Indian, 
 who had never seen a picture, could find at the first view, 
 that the canvass was really flat, though it appeared to ex- 
 hibit a landscape of several miles in extent? It is there- 
 fore conceivable that the mind may be strongly and forc- 
 ibly affected by a material system, without being itself ma- 
 terial. And that the mind is not material, appears farther, 
 in that she abstracts herself from the body, when she would 
 apply most closely to thought ; that the soul is capable of 
 purely abstract ideas, as of rectitude, order, virtue, vice, 
 and the like ; to which matter furnishes no archetype, nor 
 has any connexion with them ; that it is affected by what 
 is confessedly not matter, as the sense of words heard, or 
 read in books, which if it were material it could not be : 
 which shows our minds to be quite different beings from 
 the body, and naturally independent on it ; that we can 
 conceive of matter in a way, which we cannot of spirit, 
 and contrariwise ; matter being still to be, without any 
 contradiction, conceived of asdivisible and inactive; where- 
 as it is impossible to apply those ideas to spirit, without 
 a direct absurdity, which shows, that the mind is the same, 
 conscious, indivisible, identical being, though the body 
 is subject to continual change, addition, and diminution ; 
 that the mind continues to improve in the most noble and 
 valuable accomplishments, when the body is going fast to 
 decay ; that, even the moment before the dissolution of 
 the body, the vigour of the mind seems often wholly 
 unimpaired ; that the interests of the mind and body are 
 always different, and often opposite, as in the case of being- 
 obliged to give up life for truth. These considerations, 
 attended to duly, show, that we have no reason to ques- 
 tion the possibility of the living principle's subsisting after 
 the dissolution of the material vehicle. 
 
 As to the difficulty arising from the consideration of the 
 close connexion between the body and soul, and the im- 
 pressions made by the one upon the other, which has led 
 some to question whether they are in reality at all distinct 
 beings, it is to be remembered, that this connexion, which 
 is absolutely necessary in the present state, is wholly 
 owing to the divine disposal, and not to any likeness, 
 
^52 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 much less sameness, of the thinking, intelligent agent with 
 the gross corporeal vehicle. If it had so pleased the Au- 
 thor of our being, he could have fixed such a natural con- 
 nexion between our minds and the moon, or planets, that 
 their various revolutions and aspects might have affected 
 us in the same manner, as now the health or disorder of our 
 bodies does. But this would not have the moon and 
 planets a part of us. No more do the mutual impres- 
 sions, made reciprocally by the mind and body, prove them 
 to be the same, or that the human nature is all body, es- 
 pecially considering that as already observed, in many 
 cases we evidently perceive an independency and differ 
 ence between them. 
 
 It cannot be pretended that there is any absurdity in 
 conceiving of the animating principle as existing even 
 before conception in the womb, nor of a new union com- 
 mencing at a certain period, by a fixed law of nature, 
 between it and a corporeal vehicle, which union may be 
 supposed to continue, according to certain established laws 
 of nature for a long course of years ; and may be broke, 
 or dissolved, in the same regular manner ; so that the sys- 
 tem of matter, to which the animating principle was united, 
 may be no more to it than any other system of matter. 
 
 It is remarkable, that all living creatures, especially our 
 species, on their first appearance in life, seem at a loss, as 
 if the mind was not, in the infant state, quite engaged and 
 united to its new vehicle, and, therefore could not com- 
 mand and wield it properly. Sleep, infirm old age, severe 
 sickness, and fainting, seem according to certain estab- 
 lished laws of nature, partly to loosen or relax the union 
 between the living principle, the mind, and the material 
 vehicle ; and, as it were, to set them at a greater distance 
 from one another, or make them more indifferent to one 
 another, as if (so to speak) almost beyond the sphere of 
 one another's attraction. Death is nothing more than the 
 total dissolution of this tie, occasioned in a natural way, 
 by some alteration in the material frame, not in the mind ; 
 whereby that which formed the nexus, or union, whatever 
 that may be, is removed or disengaged. It is probable, 
 that the axiety and distress, under which the mind com- 
 monly feels itself at death, is owing rather to the manner 
 ?nd process of the dissolution, than to the dissolution 
 
OF VIRTUE. 25i 
 
 itself. For we observe, that very aged persons, and in- 
 J'ants, often die without a struggle. The union between 
 soul and body, being already weak, is easily dissolved. 
 And if sleep be, as it seems, a partial dissolution of this 
 union, or a setting the mind and body at a greater distance 
 from one another, the reason why it gives no disturbance 
 is, that it comes on in such a manner as not forcibly to 
 tear in pieces, but gently to relax the ligatures, whatever 
 they are, between the material and spiritual natures. 
 That there is an analogy between sleep and death is evi- 
 dent from observing, that sleep sometimes goes on to 
 death, as in lethargic cases, and in the effects of strong 
 opiates. And it is remarkable, that the life of a person, 
 who has taken too large a dose of opium, cannot be saved 
 but by forcibly waking him ; as if the mutual action of 
 the mind and body upon one another was the medium of 
 the union; and that, if their mutual action upon one ano- 
 ther comes to be lessened to a certain degree, they become 
 indifFerent to one another, and the union between them 
 ceases of course, as two companions walking together in the 
 dark may come to lose one another, by dropping their 
 conversation, and keeping a profound silence. 
 
 It is probable, that the condition in which the mind, just 
 disengaged from the body, feels itself, is very much like 
 to that of dreaming; all confusion, uncertainty, and 
 incoherence of ideas; and that, in some measure, like the 
 infant mind newly entered upon a state wholly unknown, 
 it finds itself greatly at a loss, and exert itself with much 
 difficulty and disadvantage; till a little time and habit 
 qualifies it for a new and untried scene of action.* 
 
 If the true account of the human nature be, that the spir- 
 itual, active, thinking principle is united to a subtile cthe- 
 rial vehicle, whose residence is in the brain, and the death 
 is the departure of the soul and spirit from the body ; which 
 
 * The author is not ashamed to confess, that he now thinks his former opin- 
 ion concerning 1 the state of the dead, as represented in these paragraphs, erro- 
 neous ; though he chooses not to alter the text on that account ; thinking it 
 hardly fair to lessen the value of former editions, by adding to succeeding ones 
 what is better laid before readers in separate publications. The author is now 
 inclineable to think Doctor Law's opinion, in his Theory of Religion, more ra 
 tional, as well as more scriptural, than the generally received notion of the 
 soul's being in a full state of consciousness and activity between death and re- 
 surrection. It is a point of mere speculation, no way materially affecting 1 either- 
 faith or manners. 
 
254 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 was the notion of the Platonic Philosophers and Jewish 
 rabbii, and seems to be countenanced by the apostle Paul; 
 ii this be the true account of the human make, there is no 
 difficulty in conceiving the possibility of the mind's think- 
 ing and acting in a state of total separation from the gross 
 terrestrial body, notwithstanding the seeming difficulty of a 
 suspension of thought in profound sleep, or in a fainting 
 fit. For the embodied and separate states are so very 
 different, there is no reasoning from one to the other on 
 ev^ry point. It may be impossible for the mind, while 
 imprisoned in the body, in a great disorder of the animal 
 frame, to join ideas together, for want of its traces in the 
 brain, and other implements of reasoning, to which it has 
 all along been accustomed, and which it cannot do with- 
 out ; and vet may be possible for the same mind, when 
 freed from its dark prison, to go to work in a quite differ- 
 ent manner, to receive impressions immediately from the 
 objects themselves, which it received before by the inter- 
 vention of the senses, and to contrive for itself memorial 
 traces, and the other necessary apparatus for improvement, 
 in a much more perfect manner. It may then be able to 
 penetrate into the internal substance, and examine the 
 minute arrangement of the smallest corpuscles of all kinds 
 of material systems. By applying its ductile and de- 
 licate vehicle, which may be considered as all sensation, 
 all eye, all ears, and touch, it may accurately take off, not 
 only the real form, but the internal nature and state of 
 th.ngs, with all their properties, and present them to the 
 immediate intuition of the perceptive principle, just as 
 they are in themselves ; whereas at present the mind appre- 
 hends things only as the dull and imperfect bodily senses 
 exhibit them to it. It may be able to contract itself to 
 the examination of the internal structure of the body of the 
 minutest animalcule; and it may, as it goes onto improve 
 and enlarge its powers, come to such a perfection, as to 
 diffuse its actual presence and intelligence over a kingdom, 
 or round the whole globe, so as to perceive all that passes 
 in every spot on the face of it. It may enter into, and 
 examine the sublime ideas which are treasured up in the 
 mind of an angel, and as now, by perusing a book, it ac- 
 quires new views, and by slow degrees perfect those it had 
 before acquired ; so it may hereafter attain such a capacity 
 
OF VIRTUE. 255 
 
 of comprehension, as to be able to take off at one intuition 
 a whole new science. Thus new powers and faculties, 
 for which we have at present no names, may be forever 
 springing up in the mind, which will ever find new employ- 
 ment in examining and inquiring into truth. For the 
 object of the mind is infinite. 
 
 That our species should have another state to enter 
 upon, wholly different from the present, is so far from be- 
 ing unreasonable to expect, that it is analogous to the 
 whole scheme of Nature. For there is no species, as far 
 we know, that do not live in different successive states. 
 But to instance only the insect tribe, many of that species, 
 besides their animalcule state, before they be propagated 
 from the male, in which they differ in nothing from the 
 whole animal creation, appear first as eggs, and afterwards 
 as living reptiles, capable of motion and feeding ; then 
 they enter upon their nymph or aurelia state, and con- 
 tinue for several months as it were coffined up in their 
 slough and totally insensible. At last they burst their 
 prison, expand their wings, and fly away in the shape of 
 butterflies, dragonflies, or other winged insects, according 
 to their several species. This succession of states, of 
 which the last is the most perfect, has been considered as 
 emblematical of our mortal life, our intermediate state, 
 and resurrection to immortality. 
 
 But the most irrefragable proofs for the future immor- 
 tality of the human species, separate from those which 
 revelation yields, are taken from the consideration of the 
 perfections of the Maker and Governor of the world, who 
 designs all his works according to infinite wisdom and 
 goodness, and according to the true state of things. No 
 one can suppose that a God of truth would have allowed 
 that a whole order of rational creatures should, by any 
 means whatever, be misled into an universal persuasion 
 of a state for which thev never were intended. For it is evi- 
 dent, that if we are not formed for a future immortal state. 
 we can have no more concern with any thing beyond 
 death, than with the world in the moon, and consequently, 
 our whole business being with the present life, it is not to 
 be supposed, that our infinitely wise Creator would have 
 suffered our attention to have been taken off from it, by 
 our being led into the notion of any other ; much less 
 
256 - OF VIRTUE 
 
 that our whole species should be irresistibly possessed 
 with the same useless and hurtful delusion : nor that he 
 Avould have universally impressed their minds with a false 
 notion of an account to be hereafter given of all their 
 thoughts, words, and actions. Had he wanted them to 
 conform themselves to his general scheme in the govern- 
 ment of the world, he could have brought that about, and 
 certainly would, by any other means, rather than by suf- 
 fering them to be misled into a series of groundless ima- 
 ginations and delusions. Nor would the infinitely-wise 
 Creator have given us these vast and insatiate desires 
 after endless improvement in knowledge, this reach of 
 thought, which expatiates through creation, and extends 
 itself beyond the limits of the universe ; nor would he have 
 fired our souls with the prospect of an endless existence 
 for carrying on those improvements, only to curse us with 
 a cruel disappointment. Nor would he have made the. 
 human soul for himself; fixed its desires and wishes upon 
 the enjoyment of his own perfections ; drawn and engaged 
 it to love, admire, and breathe after the fruition of him ; 
 raised it to this lofty height of ambition only to throw it 
 down, baffled and disappointed, into a state of insensibility 
 and annihilation. Nor would he have formed the mind 
 with a capacity for continual advances in goodness, and 
 nearer approaches to himself, only to give us an oppor- 
 tunity of fitting ourselves for a future state of perfection 
 and happiness, to which, according as we approached 
 nearer and nearer, we should approach nearer and nearer to 
 the total disappointment of all our labours and all our 
 hopes, and find the whole at last to have been no other 
 than a golden dream. 
 
 The only reason why any one has recourse to artifice 
 and deceit, is, that he has not sagacity enough to gain his 
 ends by proceeding in a fair and open manner. Whoever 
 is master of his scheme, has no need of tricks and arts to 
 compass his designs. And who will dare to affirm, that 
 Infinite Wisdom had no way of bringing about his import- 
 ant designs for the good of his universe, but by deluding 
 his reasonable creatures, or suffering them to be univer- 
 sally deluded, which is the same, into the belief of a future 
 Utopia ? We know of nothing in nature analogous to 
 this. Whatever our species, or any other, are liable to be 
 
OF VIRTUE. 257 
 
 mistaken" in, is owing to the mere imperfection of sense 
 and understanding, unavoidably in beings of inferior rank: 
 but we have no idea of a whole species irresistibly led into 
 a positive error, especially of such consequences as that of 
 the expectation of a future state, if it were an error* And 
 here it is highly worthy of remark, that it is not the weak, 
 the short-sighted, and the ignorant part of the human kind, 
 that are most inclinable to the persuasion of the immor- 
 tality of the soul, as might have been expected were it an 
 error ; but quite otherwise. While the most sordid, de- 
 generate, and barbarous of the species have overlooked, 
 or not been sufficiently persuaded of it ; the wisest and 
 greatest of mankind have been believers and teachers of 
 this important doctrine ; which shows it in a light wholly 
 unaccountable, if it be supposed an error. 
 
 The irregular distribution of happiness and misery in 
 the present state renders it highly probable, that this is only 
 a part, not the whole of the Divine oeconomy with respect 
 to our species. 
 
 Do we not find, that in the present state, the highest de- 
 gree of goodness is, in some cases, attended with the great- 
 est unhappiness ? For though virtue must, in general, be 
 owned to be the likeliest means for procuring happiness in 
 the present, as well as future state ; yet there are numer- 
 ous exceptions to this rule. I appeal to the experience of 
 every man, who from a course of thoughtlessness and liber- 
 tinism, has had the happiness to be brought to some con- 
 cern about the interests of futurity, whether he does not 
 now suffer a thousand times more of the anguish of re- 
 morse from a reflexion of the least failure, than he did 
 formerly for the grossest enormities. If so, it is evident, 
 that improvement in virtue brings with it such a delicacy 
 of sentiment, as must often break in upon the tranquility 
 of the mind, and produce an uneasiness, to which the 
 hardened sinner is wholly a stranger. So that in this in- 
 stance we see, that virtue is not in the present life its own 
 reward, which infers the necessity of a future reward in a 
 life to come. 
 
 Nor is the permission of persecution or tyranny, by which 
 the best of mankind always suffer the most severely, while 
 •wickedness reigns triumphant, at all reconcilable with the 
 goodness of the universal Governor, upon any footing but 
 
 2 K 
 
258 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 that of a future state, wherein the sufferings, to which the 
 mere incapacity of resisting, or the strict adherence to truth, 
 has exposed multitudes of the species, of the best of the 
 species, shall be suitably made up for. When an Alexan- 
 der, or a Casar, is let loose upon his fellow creatures, 
 when he pours desolation, like a deluge, over one side of 
 the globe, and plunges half the human species in a sea of 
 their own blood, what must be the whole amount of the 
 calamity suffered by millions, involved in the various woes 
 of war, of which great numbers must be of the tender sex, 
 and helpless age ! What must be the terror of those who 
 dread the hour when the merciless savage, habituated to 
 scenes of cruelty, will give orders to his hellhounds to be- 
 gin the general massacre ? What the carnage when it is 
 begun ? Men slaughtered in heaps in the streets anel fields ; 
 women ravished and murdered before their husband's faces ; 
 children dashed against the walls in sight of their parents ; 
 cities wrapt in flames ; the shouts of the conquerors ; the 
 groans of the dying ; the ghastly visages of the dead ; uni- 
 versal horror, misery, and desolation. All to gain a spot 
 of ground, an useless addition of revenue, or even the 
 visionary satisfaction of a sounding name, to swell the 
 pride of a wretched worm, who will himself quickly sink 
 among the heaps his fury has made, himself a prey to the 
 universal leveller of mankind. And what is all history 
 full of, but such horrid scenes as these ? Has not ambition 
 or superstition set mankind, in all ages and nations, in arms 
 against one another ; turned this world into a general 
 shambles, and fattened every soil with slaughtered thous- 
 ands ? 
 
 The blood thirsty inquisitor, who has grown grey in 
 the service of the mother of abominations, who has long 
 made it his boast, that none of her priests has brought so 
 many hundreds of victims to her horrid altars as him- 
 self; the venerable butcher sits on his bench. The help- 
 less innocent is brought bound from his dungeon, where 
 no voice of comfort is heard, no friendly eye glances 
 compassion ; where damp and stench, perpetual darkness 
 and horrid silence reign, except when broken by the echo 
 of his groans ; where months and years have been lan- 
 guished out in want of all that nature requires ; an out- 
 east from iamily, from fnjpads, from ease and affluence, 
 
OF VIRTUE. 259 
 
 and a pleasant habitation, from the blessed light of the 
 world. He kneels; he weeps; he begs for pity. He 
 sues for mercy by the love of God, and by the bowels of 
 humanity. Already cruelly exercised by torture, nature 
 shudders at the thought of repeating the dreadful suffer, 
 ings, under which she had almost sunk before. He pro- 
 test his innocence. He calls heaven to witness for him -, 
 and implores the Divine power to touch the flinty heart, 
 which all his cries and tears cannot move. The unfeeling 
 monster talks of heresy, and profanation of his cursed su- 
 perstition. His furious zeal for priestly power and a 
 worldly church, stops his ear against the melting voice of 
 a fellow creature prostrate at his feet. And the terror ne- 
 cessary to be kept up among the blinded votaries, renders 
 cruelty a proper instrument of religious slavery. The 
 dumb executioners strip him of his rags. The rack is 
 prepared. The ropes are extended. The wheels are driven 
 round. The bloody whip and hissing pincers tear the 
 quivering flesh from the bones. The pullies raise him to 
 the roof. The sinews crack. The joints are torn asun- 
 der. The pavement swims in blood. The hardened 
 minister of infernal cruelty sits unmoved. His heart has 
 long been steeled against compassion. He listens to the 
 groans, he views the strong convulsive pangs, when na- 
 ture shrinks, and struggles, and agonising pain rages in 
 every pore. He counts the heart-rending shrieks of a fel- 
 low creature in torment, and enjoys his anguish with the 
 calmness of one who views a philosophical experiment ! 
 The wretched victim expires before him. He feels no 
 movement, but of vexation at being deprived of his prey, 
 before he had sufficiently glutted his hellish fury. He 
 rises. No thunder roars. No lightning blasts him. He 
 goes on to fill up the measure of his wickedness. He lives 
 out his days in ease and luxury. He goes down to the 
 grave gorged with the blood of the innocent ; nor does 
 the earth cast up again his cursed carcase. 
 
 Can any one think such scenes would be suffered to be 
 acted in a world, at the head of which sits enthroned in 
 supreme majesty a Being of infinite goodness and perfect 
 justice, who has only to give his word, and such monsters 
 would be in an instant driven by his thunder to the centre ; 
 can any one think that such proceedings would be suffered 
 
260 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 to pass unpunished, if there was not a li£e to come, a clay 
 appointed for rewarding every man according to his works? 
 
 Some have thought, that part of the arguments for the 
 immortality of the human soul, being applicable to infe- 
 rior natures, might be said to prove too much and there- 
 for* to prove nothing. For that the unequal allotment of 
 happiness and misery among the brute creatures seems to 
 require, that those who have suffered unjustly in this state, 
 should have such sufferings compensated to them in some 
 future existence. 
 
 This difficulty is easily got over, if we consider, first, 
 that the sufferings of the inferior creatures are, so to speak, 
 onlv momentary ; whereas foreboding fears and cutting 
 reflections increase human miseries a thousand fold ; which 
 greatly abates the necessity of a future existence to make 
 up for what they may have suffered here. Besides, justice 
 does not require, that any species of creatures be wholly 
 exempted from suffering ; but only, that, upon the whole, 
 all creatures have it in their power to be gainers by their 
 existence, that is, that they have in their power a greater 
 share of happiness than misery. If any one thinks it 
 most probable, that all creatures, once introduced into 
 existence, are to be continued in being, till they deserve, 
 by perverse wickedness, to be annihilated ; and that, as 
 material substances, which seem to us to perish, are only 
 dissipated into small invisible parts, so the spirits of all 
 living creatures, at death, are only removed into another 
 state; if any one, I say, thinks he sees reason to believe 
 the immortality, in a succession of states, of all living 
 creatures, I do not see that my subject obliges me to con- 
 fute such an opinion. 
 
 Though the distinguishing character of man is reason^ 
 it is evident, that reason does not in general prevail in the 
 present state ; but on the contrary, vice, and folly, and 
 madness, seem to be most of what this world was made 
 for, if it be the whole of man. And surely, such an econ- 
 omy is not worthy to be ascribed to an infinitely wise Cre- 
 ator. Is it a design worthy of infinite Goodness to pro- 
 duce into being a species to be continued for several thou- 
 sand years, to harrass and massacre one another, and then 
 to sink again into the earth, and fatten it with their carcases? 
 The Creator can never be supposed to have produced be- 
 
OF VIRTUE. 261 
 
 ings on purpose for suffering, and to be losers by their exist- 
 ence, without any fault of their own. Upon this footing, 
 the brute creatures would have eminently the advantage of 
 our species. But it is very improbable, that the benefi- 
 cent Author of nature has taken more care, and made a 
 better provision for the inferior creatures than for us. And 
 still more unlikely, that he has given the advantage upon 
 the whole to the most worthless part of our species, and 
 exposed the best of mankind to unavoidable distress and 
 hardship, as is conspicuously the case in innumerable in- 
 stances in this world. For in the case of tyranny and perse- 
 cution, it is evident, that all that the good man has to sup- 
 port him under his cruel sufferings, is the testimony of his 
 conscience ; the persuasion of the Divine approbation ; and 
 the hope of a future recompence of honour and happiness 
 for the pain and shame he has suffered here. But to say 
 there is no future state of retribution, is to say, That He, 
 who placed conscience in the human breast, did so for the 
 sole purpose of making the best of men the most unhappy ; 
 that He, who most loves, and best knows the sincere and 
 upright, will show no favor to the sincere and upright, but 
 the contrary ; and consequently, that virtue is something 
 worse than an empty name, being a real and substantial 
 misfortune to its most faithful votary. To say the truth, 
 were the present state the whole of the human existence, 
 it is evident, that to give up life for the cause of religion, 
 so far from being virtue, the highest pitch of virtue, would 
 be directly vicious ; because it would be throwing away 
 our existence for an absolute nothing. Annihilate the real- 
 ity of a future state, and Christianity is a delusion ; con- 
 sequently not to be suffered for. 
 
 There is, there must be, hereafter a state, in which the 
 present irregularities shall be rectified, and defects sup- 
 plied ; in which vice and folly shall universally, by estab- 
 lished laws of the Divine economy, sink to disgrace and 
 punishment, and wisdom and virtue of course, rise uni- 
 versally triumphant, and prevail throughout the universe. 
 For it cannot be but that what is suitable to the character 
 of the universal Governor, should have the advantage, 
 upon the whole, in a world, of which he is the absolute 
 and irresistible Lord, and that what opposes perfect recti- 
 tude, armed with Omnipotence, must sooner or later be 
 
262 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 crushed before him. For he does in the armies of heaven, 
 and among the inhabitants of the earth, whatever seems to 
 him good, and none can stay his hand. 
 
 The virtuous and pious soul has, above all, such evi- 
 dence for its own immortality, as it cannot doubt. Puri- 
 fied from every sordid desire, purged from every dreg of 
 earth, and become wholly spiritual and angelic, whose 
 prospects are large, whose views sublime, and whose dis- 
 position godlike; such a soul already feels her own immor- 
 tality. Whilst in the body, she is sensible of her own 
 independence upon the body, and superiority to it. While 
 chained to flesh, and imprisoned in clay, she feels within 
 herself celestial vigour, declaring her noble origin. At- 
 tracted by the Divine influence, which in degenerate 
 spirits is clogged and overpowered by sensual appe- 
 tite and sordid passion, she raises her desires to that 
 better world, for which she was formed. She pants 
 for liberty; she breathes after that state of heavenly 
 light and real life, which suits her noble powers and 
 elevated disposition ; she spreads her impatient wing ; 
 she plumes herself for flight; she darts her angelic 
 eye, as it were, athwart eternity ; her vast imagination 
 already grasps futurity : she leaves behind, in thought, 
 this lessening speck of matter, and all its vanities; she 
 hangs upon the verge of time, and only waits the power- 
 ful call, which spoke her into being, to seize the future 
 world, the glories of the resurrection, to leave those lower 
 regions, and expatiate at large through boundless space, 
 to view the immensity of Nature, and to soar with choirs 
 of seraphim, to present herself before the eternal throne. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Reasonbleness and Necessity of the Connexion between 
 the Behaviour of moral Agents and their Happiness. 
 Discipline the only means for bringing moral Agents 
 voluntarily to pursue Virtue. 
 
 HAVING already seen, that it was necessary to the 
 very idea of a perfect system, that there should be a proper 
 subordination, a scale, rising by easy and just degrees, of 
 the various ranks of creatures ; it Is evident, that there 
 
OF VIRTUE. 262 
 
 must, have been such a creature as man, that is, a species 
 to fill the place which he posseses. And it is plain, that as 
 his place is immediately above the brute, and below the 
 angelic nature, he could not possibly have been formed 
 otherwise than he is. He could not be superior to the 
 animal rank, without having powers and faculties superior 
 to theirs. It is that which gives him his superiority over 
 them. Nor could he have been inferior to the angelic or- 
 der of beings, without falling short of their powers and 
 faculties. It is the very thing which places him beneath 
 them. Man, or whatever creature should have been 
 made to fill up the chasm between the angelic and the 
 animal natures, must have been exactly what we find our 
 species actually is. For without such a rank as man, the 
 moral system could not have been perfect, consequently 
 could not have been at all : for it is impossible that an ab- 
 solutely perfect author should produce an imperfect work. 
 So that there is no room left to complain, that by creating 
 man in such a station, it was necessary he should be en- 
 dowed with nobler powers and faculties than the brutes, 
 he comes to be put in a more elevated and more precarious 
 state. It is true that very few of the brutes are likely to 
 fall short of the happiness destined for them, having, as 
 already observed, but few chances of missing of it, and 
 being more effectually confined to the track appointed 
 them, than it was proper such a creature as man should 
 be. But is not the immense superiority of happiness to 
 which a human mind may, with proper attention, rise, a 
 very great overbalance for all the disadvantages our species 
 labour under, were there a thousand for one ? Would any 
 man, who had his choice before hand, whether he would 
 be of the human or the brute species, deliberately choose 
 the latter, in which he knew it was impossible he should 
 ever attain any considerable degree of perfection and hap- 
 piness, rather than the former, in which he was sure, if he 
 was not wanting to himself he might rise to greatness and 
 felicity inconceivable ? Would any rational creature make 
 this absurd choice merely upon the consideration, that if 
 he was of a species endowed with liberty, it was possible 
 he might be so foolish as to neglect his own interest, and 
 with open eyes run into ruin and misery ? What no rea- 
 sonable being would choose, let not presumptuous man 
 
264 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 blame his Maker for not putting in his choice. If man is 
 what he ought to be, and is placed where he ought to be, 
 what has he to do but to think of filling his station with such 
 propriety as is necessary for a reasonable being to study, 
 who is desirous of attaining his own perfection and happi- 
 ness in the only way in which they are attainable ? 
 - If the perfect concurrence of reasonable beings, as well 
 as others, with the Divine scheme, was necessary to the 
 very notion of a regular universal system, with an univer- 
 sal governor at the head of it ; it was to be expected, 
 that the final happiness of such beings as should study to 
 conform themselves habitually in disposition and practice 
 to the Divine scheme, should by the positive ordination 
 of the Ruler of the world be closely connected with their 
 character and behaviour. And if it be impossible to con- 
 ceive a plan of universal economy laid by an universal and 
 perfect mind, that should not be suitable to his own ne- 
 cessary nature and character, but founded in mere arbi- 
 trary will ; it is likewise impossible to conceive a sys- 
 tem in which the habitual conformity of reasonable beings 
 to the grand scheme of the Universal Governor should not 
 naturally, and as it were of itself, produce happiness. The 
 Divine scheme of government is founded, not in arbitrary- 
 will; but in the eternal and unchangeable rectitude of the 
 Divine Nature. And therefore it was as much an impos- 
 sibility that it should be contrary to what it is, or that 
 conformity to it should finally produce any thing but hap- 
 piness, or irregularity any thing but misery ; as that the 
 Divine Nature, which is necessarily what it is, should have 
 been otherwise. So that, till the time comes, when uni- 
 versal regularity shall have the same natural tendency to 
 promote order, perfection, and happiness, as universal 
 conformity to the scheme of the universe; when the Di- 
 vine Will comes to be directly contrary to all the moral 
 perfections of his nature, till impossibilities become pos- 
 sible, and direct contradictions the same ; till the time 
 comes, when all these shall happen, there can be no chance 
 for the happiness of any reasoning being, who does not 
 study to conform his disposition and practice to the gene- 
 ral scheme of the Ruler of the world. 
 
 Let daring impious man hear this and tremble. 
 
 That there is a rectitude in conduct, which is indepen- 
 
OF VIRTUE. 265 
 
 cleat upon connected happiness, seems so evident, that one 
 would wonder how some writers have persuaded them- 
 selves, and laboured to persuade others, That the only 
 good, or rectitude of an action, is its tendency to produce 
 happiness. After what I have said to show the natural, as 
 well as judicial connexion between virtue and happiness, 
 I must declare, that to me it appears evident, That recti- 
 tude is prior to, and independent upon, all tendency to 
 produce happiness. To prove this very briefly, let it be 
 proposed to a person, that he have his choice to perform 
 some noble action, such as delivering his country, by one 
 or two methods, the former of which shall oblige him to 
 make use of a piece of dissimulation, which shall hurt no 
 creature, but if he chooses the latter, he may save his coun- 
 try without the least deviation from truth. Ought a man 
 of integrity to hesitate one moment which of the two 
 methods he would choose ? And does not the preference 
 of the latter to the former, the consequences of both being 
 the same, show plainly a rectitude in mere veracity, inde- 
 pendent of its producing happiness? Again, were a trav- 
 eller to see some strange sight, which never had been, or 
 could be seen, by any other* would it not evidently be bet- 
 ter that he gave an account of it on his return, exactly in 
 every circumstance as it really was, than that he should in 
 the smallest circumstance deviate from truth ; though such 
 deviation should have no kind of effect upon any person 
 in the world ? Farther, is it not certain, beyond all possi- 
 bility of doubt, that the Supreme Being acts always from 
 the greatest and best motives, and according to the wisest 
 and most perfect rules, at the same time that his happiness 
 is, has been, and will be, necessarily at all moments, from 
 eternity to eternity, the same, unchangeable* and abso- 
 lutely perfect. Is the whole rectitude of created beings 
 the pursuit of happiness ? And is there no foundation for 
 Divine rectitude ? Is it not rectitude in a prince, or a 
 father, to wish the happiness of his people, or children, 
 without regard to his own happiness ? Is not benevolence 
 the more truly commendable for its being disinterested ? 
 Whereas, upon the scheme of placing the whole of recti- 
 tude in pursuing the greatest happiness, it ought to be 
 quite the reverse. Ought not a good man to do what is 
 right, rather than the contrary, if he were sure, that himself 
 
 2 L 
 
266 OF VIRTUE, 
 
 and the whole universe were to be annihilated the next mo- 
 ment, so that it would be impossible that any degree ot 
 happiness should be the consequence ? 
 
 There is plainly an independent rectitude, or good- 
 ness, in the conduct of moral agents, separate from the 
 connexion between virtue and happiness. And this is the 
 foundation of the necessity of their acting according to a 
 certain fixed course; and consequently of their having 
 laws and rules promulgated to them by the Universal 
 Governor. Nor does this at all invalidate the connexion 
 between virtue and happiness ; but on the contraiy, shows 
 that there is, and ought to be, such a connexion. And, 
 generally speaking, there is no safer way to try the moral 
 excellence or turpitude of actions, than by considering the 
 natural consequences of their being universally practised. 
 For example, let it be supposed a questionable point. 
 Whether the murder of the innocent is in itself right, or 
 otherwise. Try it by the consequences, which must follou 
 the universal practice of destroying all the good and vir- 
 tuous part of mankind ; and it immediately appears to be 
 so far from right, that nothing can be conceived more con 
 trary to rectitude. On the other hand, let it be disputed. 
 Whether the protection and preservation of the innocent be 
 right. Let it be considered, what would be the conse- 
 quences of innocence being universally preserved and 
 protected ; and it appears evident beyond all possibility 
 of doubt, that nothing is more agreeable to rectitude. 
 Rectitude, therefore, does not consist in the pursuit of hap- 
 piness ; nor does the happiness, consequent upon a certain 
 course of conduct, constitute the rectitude of such con- 
 duct. The true state of the case is, Certain actions are 
 first in themselves right, and then happiness is the natural 
 and judicial consequence of them. 
 
 In order to bring mankind to a complete and perfect 
 concurrence with the Universal Scheme, it was plainly 
 necessary, that other means should be used than force or 
 instinct ; the first of which was sufficient for working dead 
 matter, and the second, the animal creation, to the Divine 
 purpose. Had man been only inanimate matter, nothing 
 more would have been necessary, than that lie should be 
 acted upon. Had he been a machine; a weight, or a 
 spring, would have been sufficient to make him perform 
 
OF VIRTUE. 267 
 
 his motions. Were there nothing in man but the mere 
 animal powers; were he capable of being wrought to 
 nothing higher than the animal functions ; were his nature 
 fit for no higher happiness, than those of eating and drink- 
 ing, and, after living a few years, and leaving behind him 
 a successor to fill his place, and continue the species, to 
 pass out of existence ; were this the case, there would have 
 needed no very grand apparatus to make him fill his incon- 
 siderable place, so as to contribute his small share to the 
 happiness of the whole, and to secure his own mean por- 
 tion. But it is very much otherwise, as will immediately 
 appear. I believe hardly any one will deny, that man (or 
 however most of the species) are endowed with the faculty 
 of understanding; by which, though weak indeed and nar- 
 row at present, our species are yet capable of distinguishing- 
 truth from falsehood, in all points of importance, and with 
 sufficient certainty, as shown above. Now, in order to a 
 creature's acting properly its part, and concurring with the 
 whole, it is evidently necessary, that it make a proper use 
 and application of every one of its faculties. No one will 
 pretend, I think, that the perfection and happiness of the 
 universe would be as universally promoted by every indi- 
 vidual's making a wrong use of his faculties, as a right one ; 
 but on the contrary, that every individual's making an 
 improper use of his faculties would produce the most con- 
 sum'mate disorder and imperfection in the system, and 
 would be the most opposite to the Divine Scheme, that 
 could be imagined. It follows, that, if man is endowed 
 with understanding, he is to be brought to cultivate and 
 inform it, not to stifle and blind it ; to endeavour to enlarge, 
 not to narrow it ; to apply it to the searching out of useful 
 and important truth, not to mislead it into the belief of 
 falsehoods, nor to employ it upon objects unworthy of it. 
 Another leading faculty in the human mind is will. 
 That there is in man a faculty of will, or a power of choos- 
 ing and refusing, we shall see established immediately. 
 What I have to' say at present is, That in order to man's 
 concurrence with the Universal Scheme, it is necessary, 
 that he regulates his will properly, or in such a manner 
 that he may will or desire whatever is for the general good. 
 and will or desire nothing that may be generally preju- 
 dicial. No man, I think, will pretend, that it would h- 
 
^68 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 better if the wills of all created beings were set to thwart 
 the general scheme, than that they were formed to concur 
 with it ; but, on the contrary, it is evident, that a general 
 opposition of all beings to what is the nature of things, 
 and the right upon the whole, must produce universal 
 confusion ; and that if there was no way to bring about 
 this general concurrence, it were reasonable to expect, 
 from the absolutely perfect rectitude of the Supreme Gov- 
 ernor of the World, that an universe of such perverse and 
 unruly beings should be utterly destroyed, or rather never 
 have been produced. It is plain, then, that, in order to 
 man's acting his part, and concurring with the general 
 scheme, he must be brought to use all the faculties of his 
 mind properly. 
 
 I promised above to bring some proofs for the fact of 
 man's being a creature endowed with will, or freedom to 
 desire, and power to determine himself in favour of, or 
 against any particular object. The certainty of this fact 
 is founded in sensation, and confirmed by reasoning. Let 
 any man observe what passes in his own mind, and he 
 will be obliged to own, that he feels he has it in his power 
 to will, or desire, and determine himself in favour of, or 
 against any particular object. We have no other proof 
 for our existence, nor is it in its nature capable of any other, 
 than that we feel we exist. 
 
 But because the reality of human liberty has been cav- 
 illed at by some men of metaphysical heads, who have run 
 into greater difficulties to avoid less, it may be worth while 
 to consider this matter a little. I know not whether I am 
 made like the rest of mankind. But I can feel every thing- 
 pass in my mind, that I can conceive I should feel, if I 
 was really a free agent. For example, in an indiiferent 
 case : When I look on my watch, to know whether it is 
 time for me to give over writing, and I find the hour come, 
 when I usually give over, I do not find that lam impelled 
 to lay down my pen, in the same manner as the index of 
 my watch is moved to point at the hour; but that I give 
 over, because I think, upon the whole, it is more proper 
 I should give over, than go on. Does my watch point 
 to the hour, because it thinks upon the whole it is more 
 proper that it should point to that hour, than any other? 
 If so, then the watch and I are beings of the same sort, 
 
OF VIRTUE. 269 
 
 endowed with much the same powers and faculties. 
 Do I not lay aside my pen, because I choose to lay it 
 aside, that is, because I am willing to lay it aside? Should 
 I give over, if I was unwilling to give over? If I find un- 
 usual time past, and yet should be glad to finish the head 
 I am upon, before I lay aside my pen, does that motive act 
 upon me, and force me to go on, as a spring acts upon a 
 watch, or does it act as a consideration upon a rational crea- 
 ture? 
 
 Again, suppose I am tempted to do a bad action, do the 
 motives laid in my way force my compliance ? Do I not, 
 on the contrary, feel that I yield to them, because I choose 
 to seize a present object, which I expect to yield me some 
 fancied advantage? Do I not feel in my own mind a vio- 
 lent struggle between the considerations of present profit 
 or pleasure, and those of wisdom and virtue ? Is it possi- 
 ble I should feel any such struggle if I was not free ? Does 
 any such thing pass in a machine ? Do I not find, that I 
 sometimes yield to temptations, which at other times I get 
 the better of? Have not others resisted temptations which 
 have proved too hard for me ? Could these differences hap- 
 pen, if they and I were machines ? Do not these instances 
 of temptations conquered, fix both liberty and guilt upon 
 me, in having yielded to what it was plain I might have 
 resisted at one time, if I did at another ? If it is extremely 
 difficult, or what may be called next to impossible, to re- 
 sist all sorts of temptations at all times, does this prove 
 any thing else, than that human nature is weak ? Were 
 man a machine, he must act as a machine, uniformly and 
 invariably. 
 
 What I have here remarked upon the case of being- 
 tempted to a bad action, is applicable, mutatis mutandis, 
 to that of an opportunity of -doing a good one. Motives, 
 according as they appear, will influence a rational mind. 
 But the appearance of motives to our minds, as well as 
 their influence over us, depends very much upon ourselves. 
 If I am prevailed on by motives, do motives force me? 
 Do I not yield to them, because I choose to yield to them ? 
 If this is not being free, what is freedom ? What should 
 I feel pass in my mind, if I was really free? What itiay 
 we suppose superior beings, what may we suppose thr 
 Supreme himself to feel in his infinite mind ? Does he, 
 
j70 of virtue; 
 
 (with profound reverence be it spoken) docs he act without 
 regard to motives ? Does he act contrary to reasonable 
 motives? Can we suppose him uninfluenced by proper 
 motives? Can we suppose he feels himself to be wholly 
 uninfluenced by reasonable and important considerations r 
 Would wc be more free than the most perfect of all be- 
 ings? If he gives us liberty and power to a proper extent, 
 what would we have more? If we feel that we have such 
 liberty, why should we, contrary to possibility, endeav- 
 our to bring ourselves to doubt of our having it? If we 
 Cannot doubt of our being free creatures, what have we 
 more to think of, than how to make a proper use of our 
 liberty, how to get our wills formed to a perfect concur- 
 rence with the grand scheme of the Governor of the Uni- 
 verse, so that we may behave properly within our sphere ? 
 which if we and all other moral agents did, every part 
 must be properly acted, every sphere properly filled, and 
 universal regularity, perfection, and happiness be the result. 
 
 Some have imagined that allowing liberty or will to cre- 
 ated beings was a derogation from the Supreme, to whom 
 alone the privilege of freedom ought to be ascribed. It is 
 certain that this is strictly true of absolute, independent;, 
 original freedom. As it is undoubted that independent, 
 necessary, or natural existence is the incommunicable priv- 
 ilege of the First Cause. But, as we find a limited, depend- 
 ent existence may be, and actually is communicated to 
 created beings, where is the difficulty or impropriety of 
 supposing a limited,* independent freedom, or power of 
 choosing or refusing, communicated to created beings ? 
 As created beings depend on the Supreme for their exist- 
 ence ; and yet the existence they enjoy is a real and proper 
 existence; so may the liberty they enjoy, of choosing 
 or refusing, be a real and proper liberty, and yet derived 
 from, and dependent on the infinite Giver of every gift. 
 
 If there is no such thing as liberty, in any created being, 
 as some have imagined, then it is evident, there can be no 
 will but that of the Supreme Being: for liberty, or a power 
 of choosing or refusing, is only another term for will. 
 Will, or willingness, implies freedom in the very term. 
 Therefore, the common tenn free-will is a tautology, as 
 much as if one should say voluntary will. There neither 
 h f nor can be. any will but free-will. Constraint, or force, 
 
OF VIRTUE. 271 
 
 is the very opposite of will, or willingness. Let it be con- 
 sidered then, what the consequence must be of affirming 
 that there is no will, but the Supreme. We find in his- 
 tory, that a monster of an Emperor wished that the whole 
 Roman people had but one neck, that he might cut them 
 all off at once. The same temper, which led him to desire 
 the destruction of his people, of whom he ought to have 
 been the father and protector, would have inclined him to 
 wish the destruction of whatever opposed him, that is of 
 all good beings in heaven and earth. Will any one pre- 
 tend, that this temper of mind is agreeable to the Supreme 
 will ? Is it not blasphemy to imagine the Divine will to be 
 against goodness ? But if liberty or will in a created being 
 is impossible, then what we call Caligula's will was really 
 the Divine will ; the destruction of all goodness was agree- 
 able to the Divine mind ! It is too horrible to think of. 
 
 I know, it has been said, that the perpetration of the 
 most wicked action, that ever was committed, must have 
 been in one sense suitable to the Divine mind, and scheme, 
 else it would have been prevented by his over-ruling pow- 
 er. In a state of discipline, it was necessary, that both 
 the good and the wicked should have liberty, within a cer- 
 tain sphere, to exert themselves according to their respec- 
 tive characters, and the Divine Wisdom has taken mea- 
 sures for preventing such a prevalence of wickedness as 
 should defeat his gracious ends ; so that it shall still be 
 worth while to have created an universe ; though every thing 
 would have gone incomparably better, had no moral agent 
 ever made a wrong use of his liberty. Nor is there the 
 least difficulty in conceiving of the Supreme Being, as 
 proposing the greatest possible happiness of his creatures, 
 and of a wicked being, as Satan, as studying how to pro- 
 duce the greatest misery. Which two inclinations, if 
 they be not direct opposites, there is no such thing as oppo- 
 sition conceivable. And if there is a will opposite to the 
 Divine, there is freedom ; for freedom is necessary to the 
 idea of will. 
 
 It being then evident, beyond contradiction, that man is 
 endowed with liberty, or a power of choosing to act in such 
 or such a manner within the sphere appointed him by his Ma- 
 ker, it follows, that to bring him to act his part properly, or in 
 such- a manner as may the most conduce to the order, per 
 
272 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 fection and happiness of the whole, sueh means must be 
 used as arc fit to work upon an intelligent free agent. 
 Neither force, nor mere instinct, being suited to a crea- 
 ture of superior rank, fit to be acted upon by reasonable 
 motives, it is plain, that nothing is so proper to lead man- 
 kind to a steady and habitual attachment to rectitude of 
 conduct, as placing them in a state of discipline. 
 
 We find by experience, that we ourselves (and perhaps 
 it may be the case of all orders of rational created beings 
 in the universe) are not of ourselves at first strongly attach- 
 ed to any object, but what we are led to by instinct or 
 constitution, in which there is nothing either praise-worthy 
 or blameable. Some minds are indeed observed to be 
 very well or ill-disposed, so to speak, in early youth. But 
 the goodness of very young persons is generally rather 
 negative, consisting in a temper fit for virtue, a soil proper 
 to sow the good seed in, and free from any unhappy cast of 
 disposition. As on the contrary, those we call unpromis- 
 ing children, are unfortunate through some deficiency or 
 redundancy, most probably in the material frame, which 
 proves unfriendly to the cultivation of virtue in the mind, 
 which would otherwise spring up, and thrive in it, almost 
 of itself. For virtue wants only to be seen by an unpre- 
 judiced mind, to be loved. Butthe proper notion of good- 
 ness in a moral agent, is a strong and habitual inclination 
 in the mind, to concur with the Divine scheme, or to act 
 On all occasions according to rectitude, arising not from 
 irrisistible, mechanical instinct, nor from mere negative 
 happiness of constitution, but from clear and comprehen- 
 sive views of the nature of things, and of moral obligations. 
 In this there is a real and intrinsic excellence. And were 
 this attachment to rectitude, on rational considerations, 
 universally prevalent in all moral agents ; moral evil there 
 could be none. How the most effectually to produce and 
 fix in the minds of free agents this inviolable attachment 
 to virtue, is therefore the point to be gained. 
 
 The Supreme Mind perceiving all things as they really 
 are, and having all things absolutely in his power, can in 
 no respect be biassed against perfect rectitude ; but must 
 be more inviolably attached to it, so to speak, than any 
 finite being, whose views must be comparatively narrow. 
 And to speak properly, he is himself the basis and stand- 
 
OF VIRTUE, 273 
 
 ard of rectitude. The mind of an angel, or archangel, 
 must, in proportion to. the extent of his views of things, 
 be more strongly attached to rectitude, than that of any 
 mortal in the present state. " Yet we have no reason to 
 imagine that such his attachment was congenial to him ; 
 but may rather conclude it to be the effect of examination, 
 habit, and gradual improvement. We cannot conceive 
 of a mind just produced into existence, as furnished with 
 inclinations, attachments, or even ideas of any kind. We 
 have no conception of these as other than the effects of 
 improvement. And we consider a mind at its first enter- 
 ance into being, as endowed only with the capacity of 
 taking in ideas, as the eye is of viewing objects, when 
 presented to it. So that we can form no other notion of 
 the elevated degree of goodness, which those glorious be- 
 ings have attained, than as the effect of their having passed 
 a very long course of improvement. Nor do the accounts 
 we have in revelation, of the fall of some of them, seem so 
 well to suit any other scheme, as that of their having been 
 at that time in a state of discipline analogous to ours. Be 
 that as it will, it is evident, that to such creatures as we 
 are, with capacities and all other circumstances such as 
 ours (and had they been different, we should not have been 
 what we are, nor where we are) nothing but a state of dis- 
 cipline could have answered the end of producing in us 
 the necessary attachment to rectitude or virtue. For this 
 attachment or inclination could not have arisen in us of 
 itself, and without adequate means. 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 The present very proper for a State of Discipline.* Ob- 
 jections answered. 
 
 WERE we to imagine a plan of a state of discipline, 
 for improving a species of beings such as ours for high 
 stations, and extensive usefulness in future states ; how 
 could we suppose it contrived in any manner, that should 
 be materially different from the state we find ourselves in? 
 
 * The Author would not, if it were to do again, draw up the following Sec- 
 tion, altogether as it stands here, seeing, as he thinks, reason to change his 
 opinion, in some points (none of them indeed of any material consequence) 
 from what it was, when this book was written, 
 
 2 M 
 
2/4 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 What scheme could be imagined) likely to answer the 
 purposes of planting in the mind of the creature the neces- 
 sary habit of obedience to the Supreme Being ; of giving 
 it an inviolable attachment to virtue, and horror at irregu- 
 larity ; aifd of teaching it to study a rational and voluntary 
 concurrence with the general scheme of the Governor of 
 the universe ; what method, I say, can we conceive of for 
 these noble purposes, that should not take in, among 
 others, the following particulars, viz. That the species 
 should be furnished with sufficient capacity, and advan- 
 tages of all kinds, for distinguishing between right and 
 wrong : That the ingenuity of their dispositions, and the 
 strength of their virtue, should have full exercise, in order 
 both to its trial, and its improvement : That they should 
 have rewards and punishments set before them, as the 
 most powerful motives to obedience : And that, upon the 
 w r hole, they should have it fairly in their power to attain 
 the end of their being put in a state of discipline? 
 
 If we consider the present as a state of discipline, all is 
 ordered as should be. We enter into life with minds 
 wholly unfurnished with ideas, attachments, or biasses 
 of any kind. After a little time, we find certain in- 
 stincts begin to act pretty strongly within us, which are 
 necessary to move us to avoid what might be hurtful, and 
 pursue what is useful to the support of the animal frame, 
 and these instincts are appointed to anticipate reason, which 
 does not at first exert itself; and bring us to that by me- 
 chanical means, which we are not capable of being worked 
 to by rational considerations. Nature has ordered, that our 
 parents shall be so engaged to us by irresistible affection, 
 as to be willing to undertake the office of caring for us in 
 our helpless years ; of opening, and cultivating our reason, 
 as soon as it begins to appear ; and of forming us by 
 habit, by precept, and example, to virtue and regularity. 
 As we advance in life, our faculties, by habitually exert- 
 ing them upon various objects, come to enlarge them- 
 selves so as to take in a wider compass. We become 
 then capable of reasoning upon actions, and their conse- 
 quences, and accordingly, do, in general, reason justly 
 enough about matters of right and wrong, where passion 
 docs not blind and mislead us. When we come into the 
 vigorous and flourishing time of life, excited by our pas- 
 
 
OF VIRTUE. 273 
 
 iiions and appetites, without which, with the low degree of 
 reason we then enjoy, we should be but half animated, we 
 proceed to enter into various scenes of action. It is true, 
 that innumerable irregularities and follies are the conse- 
 quence. But without passions and appetites, we could 
 not be the compounded creatures we are, nor consequently 
 fill our proper station between the angelic and animal ranks. 
 Here then is the proper opportunity for exercising our 
 virtue; for habituating us to keep continually on our 
 guard against innumerable assaults ; for watching over 
 ourselves, that we may not be surprized, and fall before 
 temptation ; or if we fall, that by suffering from our errors, 
 we may be moved to greater diligence and attention to 
 our duty, to a stronger attachment to virtue, and a more 
 fixed hatred to the crimes, which have brought such suf- 
 ferings upon us. And though the necessary propensions 
 of our nature do indeed eventually lead us, through our 
 own folly, into irregularity and vice, it must yet be owned 
 at the same time, that by the wise and kind constitution 
 of nature, we have innumerable natural directions, and 
 advantages, towards restraining and bringing them under 
 subjection, and innumerable ill consequences are made to 
 follow naturally upon our giving a loose to them. Which 
 ought in all reason to lead us to reflect, that the govern- 
 ment of our passions and appetites is a part of our wisdom 
 and our duty. 
 
 Pleasure and pain, health and disease, success, and 
 misfortune, reward and punishment, often at a very great 
 distance of time after the action, are made the natural, or 
 at least frequent consequences of our general behaviour 
 here ; to suggest to us the reasonableness of concluding 
 that an extensive uniformity prevails through the whole of 
 the Divine moral government, and that what we see here in 
 shadow, will in the future state appear in substance and 
 perfection, and that it not only will, but ought, to be so, 
 and cannot be otherwise. 
 
 If we consider the opposite natural tendences and effects 
 of virtue and vice, in the present state, we shall from 
 thence see reason to conclude, that the former is pleas- 
 ing to the Governor of the world, and the latter the con- 
 trary. The natural effects of temperance are health, 
 length of days, and a more delicate enjoyment of the in- 
 
276 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 nocent pleasures of life. The natural effects of gluttony, 
 drunkeness, and lewdness, are disease and pain, disgust 
 and disappointment, and untimely death. The natural 
 effects of universal benevolence, justice and charity, are 
 the love of mankind, success in life, and peace in one's 
 own mind. The consequences to be expected from ill- 
 will, injustice and selfihness, are the contempt and hatred 
 of mankind, and punishment by the laws of nations. When 
 we say such an effect follows naturally from such a cause, 
 we mean, that it does so by the Divine appointment. For 
 what is natural, is only so, because the rectitude requires 
 it to be so. 
 
 Now, if our bodily frame is so formed that its well be- 
 ing consists in temperance, and that an immoderate in- 
 diligence of appetite tends to disorder and unhinge it ; 
 if the make of the human mind, and our social state in life,' 
 are such, that the social virtues tend to produce universal 
 happiness, and all this by the constitution and course of 
 nature, of which God himself is the author; if these things 
 be so, who is so blind, as not to see in all this a moral 
 government already established under God, even in this 
 world, and going on to perfection ? That we see in fact 
 innumerable deviations from the natural connexion be. 
 tween virtue and happiness, and vice and misery ; and 
 that, through the perverseness, the wickedness, and some- 
 times the mere caprice of mankind, and the unnatural and 
 disorderly state things are got into, it comes to pass, that 
 the natural consequences of things do not invariably fol- 
 low, is by no means an objection against the conclusion I 
 have drawn from the state of things, as the Divine Wis- 
 dom constituted them, any more than the possibilitv of re- 
 sisting the power of gravitation, or lifting a heavy body, is 
 a proof, that there is no such law established in the natural 
 world by the author of nature. 
 
 That we may not, by a continued course of ease and 
 happiness, be led either to such arrogance and pride, as 
 to conclude ourselves the lords of nature, and to forget 
 that there is one above us ; or to fix our affections upon 
 the present state, which is only intended to be transient 
 and temporary, not lasting and final ; to answer these im- 
 portant ends, we are placed in the school of affliction, to 
 be broke and tamed to obedience. That happiness too 
 
OF VIRTUE. 277 
 
 easily come at, and a constant scries of success and pros- 
 perity, are by no means proper for such unprincipled and 
 unexperienced beings as we are, is too evident from the 
 effects of ease and affluence, which very few can bear 
 without almost losing their reason. The scenes of mad- 
 ness run into by victorious princes, of which history is 
 full ; the pranks from time to time played by our nobility 
 and rich commoners, and the fate of whole nations, when- 
 ever they arrive at the pinnacle of greatness and riches, 
 show the absolute necessity of affliction to force us upon 
 consideration, to put us in mindof the frailty of our nature 
 and state, and to make us remember that we are under 
 the government of one, who can raise or humble, afflict 
 or relieve, reward or punish, as to him seems good. 
 
 That we may never lose sight of our dutv, nor have it 
 In our power to pretend ignorance, and to silence even 
 the poor excuse of thoughtlessness, conscience, that ever 
 watchful and faithful monitor, is placed within the mind 
 itself, to be always at hand, to judge of our characters and 
 actions, and to ilarm us with its stings and reproaches, 
 whenever we do amiss. And there is no mind so gross 
 and stupid, as not to feel at times some pangs of remorse. 
 The very cannibal has a clear enough sense of right and 
 wrong, to know when he himself is injured, though he 
 will not stick to injure his neighbour. This effectually 
 fastens guilt upon him. And the lowest and most savage 
 of mankind, who shall hereafter be condemned, will be 
 obliged to own, that with all his disadvantages for know- 
 ing his dutv, he might have acted his part better than he 
 did. 
 
 Not only conscience within, but every object in nature 
 presents us some moral lesson. Tempests, thunders, and 
 lightnings from above ; inundations and earthquakes from 
 beneath ; the sword, famine, and pestilence in our cities ; 
 diseases and pains in our own persons, or those of our 
 nearest friends and relations, and death on our right hand 
 and on our left ; what are all these but awful and yet kind 
 warnings from the tender and compassionate Father of 
 mankind, who shows himself willing to give his poor un- 
 thinking short-sighted creatures all possible advantages 
 for virtue and happiness, that might be at all consistent with 
 their nature as free agents, with their condition as beings 
 
278 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 in a state of discipline, and with the grand and universal 
 scheme, which must be equitable, unchangeable, and uni- 
 form. 
 
 . And, as if all this, and a thousand times more not men- 
 tioned, had not been enough, we are taught, that angels 
 have a charge over us, to assist us in our trials, and 
 to .prevent our falling too shamefully; that the Divine 
 Providence watches over us, and suits our circumstances 
 to our strength and ingenuity of disposition. And to crown 
 all, the Ambassador of heaven, the image of Paternal Dei- 
 ty, and brightness of Divine Glory has descended to our 
 world, and in our own nature shown us, both by his ex- 
 ample and his divine laws, what it is to live as we ought, 
 and how we may infallibly attain the end of our being. If 
 this is not doing enough for us, — what would be enough ? 
 
 Thus it appears plain, that the present was intended for 
 a state of discipline, and is very well adapted to that pur- 
 pose. Nor does the actual failure and hideous ruin of 
 numbers of moral agents, who will undoubtedly be found 
 hereafter to have perverted this state of discipline for vir- 
 tue, into an education in vice, prove, that the state was 
 not intended for training them up to virtue, or that it is 
 not properly adapted to that purpose, any more than the 
 amazing number of abortions, which happen in the natu- 
 ral world, proves, that the general design of seeds was not 
 to fructify, and produce plants and animals. Naturalists 
 show us, that in some cases millions of stamina perish for 
 one that comes to maturity. And, as we conclude every 
 seed of a plant, or animal egg, was formed capable of fruc- 
 tification, so we may, that every moral agent was formed 
 capable of attaining happiness. The great difference is, 
 that in the natural world, the numerous abortions we have 
 been speaking of, are the consequence of the common 
 course of nature ; but in the moral, of the fatal perverse- 
 ness of unhappy beings, who wilfully rush upon their own 
 destruction. 
 
 Some have made a difficulty of conceiving how the 
 wisest and best of beings, who must have foreseen, that 
 great numbers of his unhappy short-sighted creatures, in 
 spite of all that should be done for them, would obstin- 
 ately throw themselves into destruction, and defeat the end 
 of their creation ; some have puzzled themselves, I say, 
 
OF VIRTUE. 279 
 
 how to reconcile with the divine perfections of wisdom 
 and goodness, the creating of such beings. 
 
 But what state of discipline for free agents can be con- 
 ceived, without supposing a possibility of their behaving 
 ill in it ? Nothing but an absolute restraint upon the liberty 
 of the creature, which is wholly inconsistent with the na- 
 ture of free agency, and of a state of discipline, could 
 have prevented their acting in many instances amiss. But 
 the all-bounteous Creator has effectually put it out of the 
 power of the most presumptuously insolent of his crea- 
 tures to arraign his justice. For, if he has given to every 
 accountable being a fair opportunity of working out 
 his own happiness ; if he has put into the hands of every 
 individual the means ; placed him in the direct way toward 
 it, and is ready to assist him in his endeavours after it ; if 
 he has, in short, put happiness in the power of every 
 accountable being, which he undoubtedly has, as shown 
 above ; he has, to all intents and purposes, done the same 
 as if he had given it to every individual. For he, who 
 points me out the way to get an estate, or any of the good 
 things of life, and who assists and supports me in my en- 
 deavours to procure it, he it is to whom I am obliged for 
 whatever I acquire in consequence of his advice, and by 
 means of his protection and assistance. Now, if the ben- 
 eficent Author of being has thus given to every individ- 
 ual such means of happiness ; as it must be wholly through 
 his own perverseness if he misses it ; what shadow of pre- 
 tence is their for cavilling, or what difficulty in understand- 
 ing and vindicating the wisdom and goodness of the ado- 
 rable Author of existence? If we lay the whole blame, 
 and with the utmost justice, on him, who, having an 
 opportunity and means for gaining any secular advantage 
 put in his hands, neglects them ; if we should as much 
 condemn the man, who, through obstinacy or indolence, 
 has let slip an opportunity of making his fortune, as an- 
 other, who through extravagance has dissipated one alrea- 
 dy in his possession ; if we should as justly look upon 
 that person as our benefactor, by whose means we acquire 
 the conveniences of life, as on the immediate giver of a 
 gift, what remains but that we justify and adore the bound- 
 less goodness of the universal Parent of Nature, who, by 
 calling innumerable creatures into existence, by endow- 
 
280 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 ing them with reason, by placing them in a state of disci- 
 pline, and giving them all possible advantages for the im- 
 provement necessary for happiness, has, in effect, put in 
 the hands of every accountable being a felicity fit for a God 
 to bestow ? And if every individual, that shall hereafter 
 be condemned, shall be obliged to confess his sentence 
 just, and to own that he might have acted a better part than 
 he did, the Divine justice and goodness stand fully vin- 
 dicated in the sight of the whole rational creation. 
 
 For, what ! — Must the infinite Author of existence 
 (with reverence be it spoken) must He deny himself the 
 exertion of his boundless goodness in producing an uni- 
 verse of conscious beings, of whom numbers will in the 
 event come to happiness, merely to prevent the self- sought 
 destruction of a set of wicked degenerate beings ? Either 
 there must have been no creatures brought into being 
 above the rank of brutes, consequently no happiness above 
 the animal enjoyed by any created being, or freedom of 
 agency must have been given. And what freedom is con- 
 ceivable without a possibility of error and irregularity, 
 and consequently of misery? But is not the happiness "of 
 one virtuous mind of more consequence than the voluntary 
 ruin of a thousand degenerate beings? And is not a state, 
 in which we have the opportunity of attaining an incon- 
 ceivable felicity, if we be not inexcusablv wanting to our- 
 selves, is not this a state to be wished for by mankind, if 
 they had their choice either to come into it or not ? As for 
 those unhappy beings of our species, who, proceeding 
 from one degree of vice and folly to another, shall at last 
 come to be hardened against all good, what is the value of 
 thousands of such beings in the estimation of infinite wis- 
 dom and rectitude, that their destruction should be thought 
 a hardship ? For what else are such degenerate beings fit ? 
 Besides, we know that Divine Wisdom has so planned 
 out his universal economy, that an inferior good shall, in 
 the end, proceed from what was by wicked beings intended 
 for ruin and mischief. The whole human species were 
 originally formed capable of happiness, and every individ- 
 ual has happiness in his power. But ,;s the Divine Wis- 
 dom, which perfectly knew the future characters of all his 
 creatures, with all the circumstances they s lould be effect- 
 ed by, foresaw that numbers would come to deviate from. 
 
OF VIRTUE. 281 
 
 the eternal rule of rectitude, it was proper that a secondary 
 scheme should be provided, by means of which those free 
 agents, who should not thus voluntarily yield the due obe- 
 dience and concurrence with the general design, should, by 
 superior direction, be forced to contribute to the greater 
 perfection and beauty of the whole. Of this secondary 
 part of the divine economy, we can trace out some very 
 considerable parts, as the following, viz. We know that 
 wicked and cruel men, in endeavouring to root out truth, 
 and sweep virtue from the earth, have ever been made, in 
 spite of themselves, the instruments of their more gene- 
 ral establishment. The whole race of persecutors of Chris- 
 tianity, from Herod down to Lewis XIV. have so egre- 
 giously overshot themselves, as to be the very causes of 
 the greater prevalency of true religion, which has given 
 occasion to the well-known saying, That the blood of the 
 martyrs has been the seed of the church. In more pri- 
 vate life, it is notorious, that a very considerable part of the 
 trials of the virtue of good men arises from the wicked 
 part of the species. And every trial, where the good man 
 oomes off with honour, serves naturally to establish his 
 virtue, and to increase his reward hereafter. The mere 
 contrast between the character of the pious, the temper, 
 ate and benevolent man, and that of the blasphemer, the 
 voluptuary, and the hard-hearted, sets off the former to 
 the utmost advantage, and presents it to the general obser- 
 vation in the fairest point of view ; by which votaries to 
 virtue are gained, and a horror at vice is raised in every 
 considerate mind. And in the future state, what power- 
 ful effects may be produced by the fearful and exemplary 
 punishments inflicted on those of our species, or others, 
 who have degenerated from the dignity of their nature, and, 
 as much as they could, defeated the end of their creation, 
 may be imagined by those who consider what extensive 
 connexions between the various orders of being may here- 
 after come to be opened to our view ; and that, as all moral 
 and free agents of all orders are now allied, they may 
 hereafter come to be united, and make one immense and 
 universal society ; and whatever has been originally intend- 
 ed for usefulness to one order of moral agents, may at last 
 rame to be useful to all. Something analogous t* "his \". 
 
 2 N "' ' 
 
282 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 have in the case of the fallen angels, whose ruin is men- 
 tioned in scripture as a warning to us. 
 
 It has been said, Since the Supreme Being foresaw, 
 without a possibility of error, what would be the exact 
 character of every one of his creatures, was it not to have 
 been expected, that such of them as he knew would turn 
 out wicked, and come to ruin, should never have been 
 brought into existence, or cut orFin the beginning of life ? 
 Our Saviour says of Judas, for example, that it had been 
 better for him never to have been born. How then, say 
 thcy, came he to be born ? Or why was he not removed 
 out of life, before he came to the age of perpetrating the 
 most attrocious crime that ever was or can be committed ? 
 Though I would not be the proposer of such presump- 
 tuous questions, I think it innocent enough to endeavour 
 to answer them. And first, if we consider, that to infinite 
 purity and rectitude, wickedness is so odious as to render 
 the guilty person altogether contemptible in his sight, we 
 shall not wonder that he does not (so to speak) judge it 
 worth while to put him out of existence, but lets him go 
 on to fill up the measure of his iniquity, and reap the fruit 
 of his doings. Again, it is to be considered, that Infinite 
 Wisdom intending to work out great and valuable ends 
 by what is designed by his wicked creatures for ruin and 
 mischief, may therefore think proper to suffer them to go 
 on to heap damnation on themselves, and determine to 
 make use of their self- sought destruction for the advant- 
 age of the more valuable part of his creatures. How the 
 character of one, who docs not yet exist, is fore-knowable, 
 we have no conception, though we find from scripture 
 that it is so, in the case of Judas particular)'. 
 
 On the seeming difficulty of reconciling with the Divine 
 Goodness, our being placed in a state perhaps more dis- 
 advantageous for virtue and happiness than that in which 
 other orders of beings are created; a state exposed to such 
 variety of temptations, as renders it hard for beings, fur- 
 nished with such moderate degrees of strength as we are, 
 to get the better of the important conflict, on the event of 
 which our eternal happiness depends; on this difficulty 
 the following thoughts may serve to vindicate the Divine 
 Goodness, and to shew our condition to be extremely desi- 
 
OF VIRTUE. 283 
 
 rable, instead of our being hardly dealt with, as some have 
 
 insinuated. 
 
 If our condition were such, that one single deviation 
 from our duty would at once irrecoverably determine our 
 fate, or that what may properly be called human infirmity 
 should doom^us to irreversible destruction, there might 
 be some pretence for complamt. But if, so far from that, 
 a faithful, constant, and prevailing endeavour to gain the 
 Divine Approbation, with watchfulness against tempta- 
 tions, and repentance for our fruits, followed by amend- 
 ment of life, be the means for attaining happiness ; where 
 lies the mighty hardship ? Nay, I would ask any impar- 
 tial person, whether it were more desirable to be put in a 
 state of trial, in which there should be upon the whole fewer 
 chances of miscarrying, but lest allowances to be made in 
 the final judgment for deviation ; or to be in a state expos- 
 ed to greater hazards, but with greater allowances to fail- 
 ures'? Is it not the same thing in the event, how various 
 the temptations in the state of trial may be, if the merciful 
 allowances, made by the judge, be proportioned to them. 
 And who can doubt that Infinite Goodness will make all 
 possible allowances hereafter for those failures of weak and 
 frail beings, which shall be found to have been owing to 
 the mere infirmity of their nature, and the precariousness 
 of the present state, not to daring impiety and presump- 
 tuous wickedness. And it will accordingly be hereaftei 
 found, that a competent number of our species have actu- 
 ally been able under the greatest disadvantages, to attain 
 such a measure of conformity to the Divine Will, as shall, 
 with the heavenly assistance, and allowances to be made 
 for human frailty, be found proper for rendering them, 
 upon the christian plan, objects of the mercy of the Judge 
 of the World, and capable of being raised to a state of 
 happiness ; which will show, that the miscarriage of the 
 rest was wholly owing to their own perverseness, and that 
 they themselves were the whole cause of that destruction, 
 which the others escaped. 
 
 Every one knows, that, with respect to the present 
 state, exclusive of futurity, there is great difficulty in 
 getting through life without some fatal misconduct, which 
 may embitter, and render it unhappy. And very doubt- 
 ful it must be confessed to be, whether anew born infant 
 
284 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 shall get over the precarious time of youth, without being 
 drawn through rashness and thoughtlessness, and the 
 temptations of bad company, into such a course of folly, 
 as may effectually prevent his proving a useful and valua- 
 ble member of society. Yet we always look upon the 
 birth of a child into the world as a subject of joy, not of 
 grief or complaint, and upon the untimely death of a young 
 person as a calamity ; because we take into our view the 
 consideration of its being in the power of every person, 
 through Divine Assistance, which is never wanting to the 
 honest mind, to behave well in life, if he pleases, and we 
 hope he will do so. The warrior is sufficiently apprized 
 of the danger of engaging ; a danger, which it is out of his 
 power to ward off. Yet he longs to mix in the martial 
 tumult ; and engages with joy in the glorious strife. Why 
 should man think himself hardly used in being placed in 
 a post attended with occasional danger ; but in which he 
 must be egregiously wanting to himself if he miscarries 
 finally ? But if I .should not choose a happiness attainable 
 only through peril and trouble, but would rather through 
 sordid stupidity and inactivity, desire to decline existing 
 upon such terms ; does it therefore follow, that the infinite 
 Author of existence may not oblige me, in spite of my ob- 
 stinacy, or stupidity, to go through what he may judge 
 proper for me, and necessary for his great ends? Has not 
 the potter power over the clay ? Suppose I should not in 
 this life be convinced of my obligations to the Divine 
 Goodness upon the whole, does it follow that I never 
 shall ? 
 
 It has been asked, why the beneficent Author of being 
 did not pursue such an effectual scheme in the moral world 
 as he has done in the natural ? It was, for example, the 
 Divine intention, that the human and other species should 
 absolutely be preserved as long as the world lasted. The 
 two sexes are therefore engaged to one another, and to 
 their common offspring, by such powerful instinctive at- 
 tractions as are found fully sufficient to answer this im- 
 portant end. Why did not our Maker plant in our minds 
 such a strong and irresistible propensity to virtue, as would 
 have effectually secured the universal happiness of the 
 species ? The answer is easy, viz. There is reason to 
 believe, that, upon the whole, a great number of the hu- 
 
OF VIRTUE. 285 
 
 man species will, through Divine Goodness, come to hap- 
 piness ; such a number at least, as it shall in the end ap- 
 pear to have been, to speak after the manner of men, worth 
 while to have created the human species. But, to pro- 
 pose by mere instinctive attractions alone, mechanically to 
 draw free agents to the love and practice of virtue, is con- 
 tradictory to the nature of the design. Because what is 
 wanted is not so much, that mankind, and other free agents, 
 be brought to go, like machines, in a certain track, as that 
 the rational faculties be formed in a rational manner to the 
 entire love and habitual pursuit of goodness. This shows 
 mechanical means to be improper alone for that purpo e, 
 though they may prove, as we find, useful helps ; and ' t 
 rational means are absolutely necessary for acting upon 
 rational natures. And it is ever to be remembered, t 
 as the inanimate world is made to concur with the Divine 
 scheme in a mechanical, and the animal in an instinctive 
 manner, so rational beings, if they concur at all, must con- 
 cur in a manner suitable to their nature ; I mean, in a ra- 
 tional, free, and voluntary manner. 
 
 It has likewise been said, Why did not the scheme of 
 the moral government of the world take in such a succes- 
 sion of continual interpositions, as would have effectually 
 forced men to have been virtuous ? To this may be an- 
 swered, first, That miracles continued would soon be 
 no miracles, and consequently would have no effects dif- 
 ferent from those produced by the common course of na- 
 ture. And, secondly, That if Omnipotence were con- 
 tinually from time to time to strike offenders dead, it is to 
 be questioned, whether abstinence from vice, and the 
 forced practice of virtue, which would be the consequence, 
 would be sufficient, in the nature of things, to render 
 moral agents capable of any high degree of happiness. 
 
 For, suppose it were affirmed, that there is a natural ab- 
 surdity, or inconsistency, in proposing to bestow upon an 
 order of creatures a very high degree of happiness, upon 
 any other footing, than in consequence of their having 
 passed with honour and victory through a state of proba- 
 tion, in which there was some difficulty and danger, 
 though not unsurmountable : suppose it were alleged, 
 that there is a necessity in the nature of things, that the hap- 
 piness of all rational beings be proportioned and suited to 
 
286 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 their state of probation : who could contradict this, qr 
 show the bare possibility how such a creature, as man, 
 could, in a constancy with his own nature, and the Divine 
 Rectitude, come to such a degree and kind of happiness, 
 as we believe to be intended for him, without such a pre- 
 paration, as he is to pass through in the present state ? If 
 we judge according to what experience teaches us of our 
 own turn of mind, which in all probability is universal, we 
 cannot suppose the happiness even of heaven itself would 
 prove a happiness to beings, who should attain it too easily. 
 When a prince, educated from his infancy in expectation 
 of the regal dignity, comes to mount the throne of his an- 
 cestors, we do not find, that it gives him any greater joy, 
 than an heir to a very small fortune has in entering upon 
 his estate. But suppose a private person unexpectedly 
 raised from poverty, and even from the fear of death, 
 to an imperial throne ; the transport of an elevation so un- 
 pected, from circumstances so grievous, will be likely to 
 endanger his losing his senses. It is to be supposed, that 
 to a species of beings created in heaven, or transported 
 thither they knew not how, it would in reality be no heaven. 
 Nor is there any possibility of conceiving of an order of 
 being raised to a station of happiness, without passing 
 through a state of trial, who should not be in danger offal- 
 ling from it again, for want of having been disciplined to 
 virtue, and in a rational, as well as habitual manner attach- 
 ed to goodness and obedience. So that trial and discipline 
 seem necessary to be gone through by every species (I do 
 not say by every individual) throughout the rational crea- 
 tion, sooner or later. 
 
 It has likewise been asked on this subject, how the 
 justice of the immensely different fates of two persons, one 
 of which proves obedient, and the other wicked, appears ; 
 since it may often be supposed, that he, who has actually 
 proved virtuous, might in more disadvantageous circunru 
 stances, have been overcome by the severity of his trial, 
 and been a reprobate ; and he, who, by the force of very 
 powerful temptations, has been seduced, might, in circum- 
 stances more favourable to virtue, have stood his ground, 
 and in the end come to happiness? 
 
 This seemingly difficulty is not very hard to obviate. 
 For, first, as to him, who comes to happiness, no one ever 
 
OP VIRTUE. 287 
 
 thought of injustice in the case of a benefit bestowed. 
 And he, who is Lord of all, may, without question, do 
 with his own what he will ; he may give to one of his crea- 
 tures such advantages as shall in the event produce the 
 effect of qualifying him for final happiness. But the other, 
 whose advantages were inferior, will not he have just 
 ground for complaint ? By no means. If the advantages, 
 he enjoyed, were fully sufficient, he stands self- condemned 
 for having abused them ; nor could he in reason expect 
 them to be more than sufficient, much less to be greatly 
 above what was sufficient, and least of all, to be equal to 
 the greatest advantages, ever allowed to any other person. 
 Upon the whole, nothing is more evident, than that the 
 being, who has actually proved obedient, by whatever 
 means he has been brought to goodness, is, according to 
 the nature and fitness of things, rewardable ; and that the 
 soul, which sins, does in strict justice deserve to die. 
 
 The case of that very .considerable part of the human 
 species, which is cut off in immature age, without any 
 opportunity of going through any trial in life, seems, at 
 first view, to lessen the force of what I have been saying of 
 the necessity of a state of discipline, to form the mind to 
 virtue. For what is to become of those, who die in in- 
 fancy ? Are they annihilated ? Are they happy or miser- 
 able in a future state, who have done neither good or evil ? 
 Or do they go through a state of discipline in their separate 
 existence ? 
 
 To what may be said on this point, I have the follow- 
 ing brief answers to offer ; First, what I have above said of 
 the necessity of a state of dicipline, must be understood to 
 be meant of a species in general. Perhaps the circum- 
 stances of the bulk of a species' having gone through a 
 state of dicipline, may be sufficient for making such an 
 impression upon the other, who happened to escape it, as 
 may keep them to the steady practice of virtue in all future 
 states. This may be the case ; and yet it might be 
 absurd to imagine a whole species raised to happiness with- 
 out at least a considerable part of them going though a 
 discipline for virtue, and thereby being qualified to instruct 
 their more unexperienced fellow-beings in the importance 
 of keeping to their duty, and the fatal danger and direful 
 effects of swerving from it, So that what was above said 
 
288 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 of the necessity of a state of discipline for every species of 
 rational agents in the universe, stands upon the same foot- 
 ing notwithstanding this difficulty. 
 
 But if every period of the existence of a free agent be, in 
 fact, a state of trial and discipline, in which it is possible 
 (though still less and less probable according to their far- 
 ther improvements in virtue) that they should fall ; we may 
 then conceive of the possibility of surmounting this diffi- 
 culty by supposing that those of the human species, who 
 do not go through a state of discipline in this life, may be 
 hereafter made partakers of a lower degree of happiness (as 
 we are in Scripture informed, that the mansions of future 
 bliss are various) which may prove their state of trial, as the 
 paradisaical was intended to have been for our species and 
 the angelic was of Satan and his angels. Andas Adam, 
 and the rebellious angels, fell from a higher state than thai 
 which we are placed in, so may many of those of our spe- 
 cies, whose first state of discipline may commence after this 
 life is over, and after our world is judged and brought to 
 its consummation. If so, those of us who have past 
 through this mortal life in such a manner as to be found fit 
 objects of the Divine Mercy, will have great reason to 
 congratulate ourselves on our having passed the danger, 
 and being more secure of our happiness, than those whom 
 we are now apt to envy for their getting out of life so 
 easily : For we know not what we ought to wish for, but 
 lie, who made us, knows. 
 
 If any reader should imagine, that I intended to estab- 
 lish any one hypothesis as the real account of this matter; 
 he mistakes my design. All I mean by what I have advanc- 
 ed, is only to show, that the circumstance of a consider- 
 able part of our species' passing through no state of dis- 
 cipline in this life, does not invalidate the necessity of a 
 discipline to be gone through by every species of free crea- 
 tures, in order to their being effectually attached to virtue, 
 and so fitted for higher degrees of ^appiness and glory. 
 
 If after all thfit lias been said and more, which might be 
 offered, if it were proper,there should remain difficulties with 
 respect to the august economy of the infinitely-wise and 
 good Governor of the world; if such short-sighted beings 
 as we are, should no way be able to reconcile the seeming 
 contradictions, a»d surmount the supposed difficulties; 
 
OF VIRTUE. 289 
 
 this is no more than might have been expected. We are, 
 through the meanness oi' our faculties, ignorant of infinitely 
 more particulars than we know, in all extensive sub- 
 jects ; and we see but part of one scene in the immense 
 drama of the moral world. But in what little we see, we 
 observe a thousand times more than would have been 
 sufficient to prove a wise and good government already- 
 begun, and going on to perfection. If therefore, we have 
 any candor, or any judgment to forma reasonable deduc- 
 tion of one thingfrom another, we cannot avoid concluding, 
 that what we do not comprehend of the Divine Scheme 
 is of a piece with what we do comprehend, and that the 
 whole is established uport, and conducted by, perfect and 
 unerring rectitude. 
 
 The very circumstance of the difficulty we find in com- 
 prehending the whole of the Divine Scheme, both in the 
 natural and moral world, while at the same time we find 
 we can enter into them so far, and see so much of wisdom 
 and contrivance, is a beauty, and a proof that the Author 
 is one whose ways are immensely above our ways, and 
 his thoughts above our thoughts. 
 
 Considering the superabundant care that has been taken 
 for putting, and keeping us, in the way to happiness, I 
 think it may be fairly concluded, that whoever is not satis- 
 fied with the Divine wisdom and goodness apparent in the 
 conduct of the moral world, would not be satisfied with 
 any possible degree of them. And it is only going on in 
 the same way of finding fault, wherever we do not under- 
 stand, and we shall at last take exception against all pos- 
 sibility of guilt and consequent unhappiness, and blame our 
 Maker, if we are not brought into the world at once per- 
 fect seraphs ; if this earth is not the third region of the 
 heavens ; if we cannot give ourselves up to the most sor- 
 did lusts and passions, and yet be prepared for, and ad- 
 mitted to the conversation of angels and archangels. But 
 when weak short-sighted man has racked his narrow in- 
 vention to start or to solve a thousand imaginary difficul- 
 ties in the economy of the infinite Governor of the Uni- 
 verse, it will be found at last, that though clouds and 
 darkness are around about him, yet righteousness and jus- 
 tice are the habitation of his throne. 
 
 2 O 
 
290 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 Wherein the requisite Coneurrenee of moral J gents con- 
 sists. Our Species under a threefold Obligation; the 
 first respecting themselves, the second their Fellow, 
 creatures, and the third, their Creator. Of the first of 
 these, to wit, The due Care and Regulation of the men- 
 tat and animal Matures. 
 
 THE requisite concurrence of moral agents, of what- 
 ever rank or order or their conformity to the grand design 
 of the Universal Governor, which is the ground work of 
 universal harmony, perfection, and happiness throughout 
 the creation consists, in their acting according to truth 
 rectitude and propriety (in their respective" stations' 
 whether higher or lower in the scale of being, whether in 
 states of discipline, or reward) in all cases or circum- 
 stances that regard either themselves, their fellow- beines 
 or their Creator. Whatever moral agent strictly and uS 
 versally observes this rule, he is of that character, which 
 
 SrfJrfS T° ml b t'? Cal1 S°° d ' is amiable in the 
 sight of the Supreme Judge of rectitude and goodness- 
 and it is as certain, that every such being must be finally 
 happy, as that the nature of things is what it is, and that 
 perfect wisdom and goodness must act rightly in govern 
 ing the world. & ; s 
 
 What makes the duty of such poor, short-sighted 
 creatures as we are who are yet but in the infancy of our 
 being, is likewise the grand rule which every angel and 
 
 mv tol I ?n 0bsmeS A N£ *' h ™ jld be blasphe- 
 my to think of the Supreme Governor of the Universe as 
 conducting his immense and august economy otherwise 
 than according to the sacred rule which himself has pre- 
 scribed for the conduct of his reasonable creatures and 
 which is an attribute of his own infinitely perfect nature 
 1 mean, immutable and eternal rectitude 
 
 In what light does this show the Dignity of Human Na- 
 
 7r i n '• T? W 7' et COme to be ? Made in th ^ iniagc 
 of God himself! and taught to imitate his example* to 
 what heights may we thus come to be raised ? Would to 
 ™Ti ^.^° l,Id hc J™"^t to consider our own import- 
 ance! Did we sufficiently reverence ourselves ; we should 
 
OF VIRTUE. 291 
 
 act a part worthy of the honours for which our -Creator 
 gave us our being. 
 
 The rectitude of that part of our conduct, which re- 
 gards ourselves, consists in the due care of our minds and 
 our bodies, which two parts constitute our whole nature 
 in the present state. 
 
 Our mental powers are generally considered under the 
 heads of intelligence and passion. The office of the first, 
 to judge, and distinguish between what ought to be pur- 
 sued, and what avoided ; of the latter, to excite to action. 
 Where these two capital powers of the mind hold each her 
 proper place, where the understanding is faithfully ex- 
 erted in the search of truth, and the active powers for at- 
 taining the real good of the creature, such a mind may 
 be properly said to be duly regulated, and in a good con- 
 dition. 
 
 The proper exertion of the understanding is in inquiry 
 into important truth; and that understanding, which is 
 furnished with extensive and clear ideas of things, and 
 enriched with useful and ornamental knowledge, is applied 
 as the Divine Wisdom intended every rational mind in 
 the universe should be, if not in one state, yet in another ; 
 if not universally in a state of discipline, as that we are 
 now in, yet in a state of perfection, to which we hope here- 
 after to be raised. And whoever, in the present state, is 
 blest with the proper advantages for improving his mind 
 with knowledge (as natural capacity, leisure, and fortune) 
 and neglects to use those advantages, will hereafter be 
 found guilty of having omitted an important part of his 
 duty. 
 
 Having in the foregoing book treated pretty copiously 
 of the improvement and conduct of the understanding, 
 there is the less occasion to enlarge upon that subject in 
 this place. Let us therefore proceed to consider wherein 
 the rectitude of that part of our conduct, which regards 
 the active powers of the mind, consists. 
 
 In general, it is evident, that the will of every individual 
 being in the universe ought to be effectually formed to an 
 absolute and implicit submission to the disposal of the 
 Universal Governor, which is saying, in other words, that 
 every created being in the universe ought to study perfect 
 rectitude in all his desires and wishes. He who desires 
 
292 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 anything contrary to the Divine Nature, and will, or to 
 what is right and good, is guilty of rebellion against the 
 Supreme Governor of the Universe. 
 
 The passions, as they are commonly, but improperly 
 galled, of the human mind, are various, and some of them 
 of so mixed and compounded a nature, that they are not 
 easily ranged under classes. The following are the prin- 
 cipal. Love, or complacence, or desire, whose object is, 
 whatever appears to us good, amiable, or fit for us, 
 as God, our fellow-creatures, virtue, beauty ; joy, ex- 
 cited by happiness, real or imaginary, in possession, or 
 prospect; sympathy, or a humane sense of the good or 
 bad condition of our fellow- creatures ; self-love; ambi- 
 tion, or desire of glory, true, or false ; covetousness ; love 
 of life ; appetites of eating, drinking, recreation, sleeping, 
 and mutual desires of the sexes ; mirth ; anger ; hatred ; 
 envy ; malice ; revenge ; fear ; jealousy ; grief. 
 
 It is the whole soul, or whole man, that loves, hates, de- 
 sires, or fears. Every passion is a motion of the whole 
 being, toward or from some object, which appears to him 
 either desirable or disagreeable. And objects appear to 
 us desirable, or disagreeable, either from the real excel- 
 lence our understanding perceives to be in them, as in 
 virtue, beauty, proportion, — and their contraries, as vice, 
 deformity, and confusion ; or from some peculiar fitness, 
 or congruity between the objects and our particular make, 
 or cast of mind, which is the pure arbitrary effect of our 
 make ; as in the reciprocal love of the sexes, and the an- 
 tipathy we have at certain creatures. 
 
 Now the Divine Will, the dignity of our nature, and 
 perfect rectitude, unite in requiring that every one of our 
 passions, and appetites be properly directed, and exerted 
 in a proper manner and degree ; not that they be rooted 
 out and destro} ed, according to the romantic notion of the 
 ancient Stoic Philosophers. It is in many cases equally 
 unsuitable to the dignity of our nature, that the motions 
 of our minds be too weak and languid, as that they be too 
 strong and vigorous. We may be as faulty in not suf- 
 ficiently loving God and Virtue, as in loving the vanities 
 of this world too much. 
 
 Previous to what may be more particularly observed on 
 the conduct of the natural inclinations or passions of the 
 
OF VIRTUE, 293 
 
 mind, it mav be proper briefly to mention some general 
 directions, which will be found of absolute necessity to- 
 wards our undertaking the business of regulating our pas- 
 sions with any reasonable prospect of success. 
 
 The first preparatory direction I shall give, is, To habi- 
 tuate ourselves as early, and as constantly as possible, to 
 consideration. 
 
 The faculty or capacity of thought is what raises our 
 nature above the animal. But if we do not use this no- 
 ble faculty for the purpose of distinguishing between 
 right and wrong, for finding out, and practising our duty, 
 we had been as well without it. Nay, the beasts have the 
 advantage of those of our species, who act the part of 
 beasts ; in as far as they are not capable of being called to 
 an account, or punished, as unthinking men, for the neg- 
 lect or abuse of the noblest of God's good gifts — sacred 
 reason. It is dreadful to think of the conduct of by far 
 the greatest part of our species, in respect of inconside- 
 rateness. Mankind seem to think nothing more is neces- 
 sary, to remove at once all guilt, than only, to drown all 
 thought and reflection, and then give themselves up to be 
 led or driven at the pleasure of passion or appetite. But 
 how will those poor unthinking creatures be hereafter con- 
 founded, when they find the voluntary neglect of thought 
 and consideration treated as a most attrocious insult upon 
 the goodness of the Author of our being ! And what in- 
 deed can be more impious, or contemptuous, than for 
 beings endowed with a capacity of thought and under- 
 derstanding, to spurn from them the inestimable gift of 
 heaven, or bury that talent which was given them to be 
 used for the most important purposes of distinguishing 
 between good and evil, and pursuing their own happi- 
 ness, and then pretend, in excuse for all the madness they 
 are guilty of, that they did not think, because they cared 
 not to take the pains ? 
 
 If thought be the very foundation of the dignity of our 
 nature ; if one man is preferable to another, according as 
 he exerts more reason and shows more understanding in 
 his conduct, what must be said of those, who glory in 
 what ought to be their shame, in degrading themselves to 
 the level of inferior beings ? 
 
 Especially, what prospect does the present age yield, in 
 
J94 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 which we seem to vie with one another, who shall, carry 
 pleasure and vanity to the greatest height, and who 
 shall do the most to discountenance sober thought, and 
 regular conduct ? To determine of times and seasons, and 
 how long a nation may continue to flourish, in which 
 luxury and extravagance have taken place of all that is 
 rational and manly ; is what I do not pretend to. But I 
 appeal to those who best understand human nature, and 
 the nature of government, and who know the historv of 
 other states and kingdoms, which have been corrupted in 
 the same manner, whether we have not every thing to fear 
 from the present universal inconsiderate dissolution of 
 manners, and decay of virtue, public and private. May 
 heaven take into its own hands the reformation of a de- 
 generate people ; and give comfort, and more agreeable 
 prospects, to those who bleed inwardly, for the decline 
 of their sinking country ! 
 
 To return ; let any person consider the natural effects 
 which an attentive and habitual consideration of his own 
 character and conduct are likely to produce ; and then 
 judge, whether it is not his duty to resolve to act the part 
 of a reasonable creature. With respect to the conduct 
 of his passions and appetites, let a man make it his con- 
 stant custom to spend some time every day in considering 
 the following points, viz. Whether he indulges passion 
 and appetite beyond the intention of nature ; whether, for 
 example, he sets his heart upon gratifying the bodily ap- 
 petites, for the sake of luxurious indulgence, or if he only 
 consults health in eating, drinking, sleeping, and recrea- 
 tions ; whether he gives himself up to anger upon small 
 or no provocation ; whether he sets his love wholly upon 
 the vanities of iife, or if he aspires habitually after some- 
 thing nobler than any worldly pursuit, and so of the rest. 
 Let a man accustom himself to recollect every evening the 
 miscarriages of the day in respect of his passions and ap- 
 petites, and he will soon find, if he be faithful to himself, 
 which are prevalent, and ought to be subdued. 
 
 Unless we can bring our minds to some tolerable degree 
 of tranquility and sobriety, we cannot hope to redress the 
 irregularities of our passions and inclinations. What con- 
 dition must that soul be in, which is continually engaged, 
 and distracted various ways after pleasure, honour, or 
 
OF VIRTUE. 295 
 
 riches ? If any irregularity, or redundancy, springs up in 
 such a mind, there it must abide, and flourish, and 
 strengthen more and more, till it become too deeply rooted 
 ever to be eradicated. How do we accordingly see the 
 gay, the ambitious, and the covetous, give themselves to 
 be driven in a perpetual whirl of amusements and pursuits, 
 to the absolute neglect of all that is worth attending to ? 
 But if the men of business cannot find time, for getting 
 of money, and the sons and daughters of pleasure are too 
 much engaged in hearing music, seeing plays, and in the 
 endless drudgery of the card-table ; to find time for get- 
 ting acquainted with themselves, and regulating their 
 minds, I can tell them one truth, and a terrible one ; They 
 must find time to die, whether they have prepared them- 
 selves for death or not. 
 
 Before any thing can be done to purpose toward bring- 
 ing the passions under due subjection, it will be necessary 
 to bring down high swelling pride and self-opinion, and to 
 cultivate humility, the foundation of all virtues. For this 
 purpose, it will be our wisdom to endeavour to view our- 
 selves in the light we may suppose we appear in before 
 that eye which sees all things exactly as they are. We 
 are therefore to consider, that we do not appear to our 
 Maker under the same distinctions as we do to one 
 another. He does not regard one as a king, another as a 
 hero, or a third as a learned man ! He looks down from 
 where he sits enthroned above all conceivable height, 
 through the vast scale of being, and beholds innumerable 
 different orders, all gradually descending from himself, 
 the highest created nature infinitely inferior to his own origi- 
 nal perfection ! At a very great distance below the summit 
 of created excellence, and at the very lowest degree of ra- 
 tional nature, we may suppose the All-comprehensive eye 
 to behold our humble species just rising above the ani- 
 mal rank ! How poor a figure must we make before him 
 in this our infancy of being, placed on this speck of crea- 
 tion, creeping about like insects for a day, and then sink- 
 ing into the dust ! Nor is this all. For what appearance 
 must a set of such lawless beings as we are, make before 
 that eye which is too pure to look upon evil without ab- 
 horrence ? How must we appear to perfect rectitude and 
 purity, guilty and polluted as we are, and covered with 
 
290 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 the stains of wickedness, which are the disgrace of any ra- 
 tional nature ; Is pride fit for such an order of creatures as 
 we are, in our present state of humiliation and pollution ? 
 Can we value ourselves upon any thing of our own ? 
 Have we any thing, that we have not received ? And does 
 any reasonable creature boast of what it owes to another? 
 Have we not infinite reason to loathe ourselves, and to be 
 covered with shume and confusion? And are shame and 
 pride, in any respect, consistent ? 
 
 The few advantages we possess at present want only to 
 be considered, to convince us how little they are to be 
 boasted of. The whole of our bodily perfections may be 
 summed up in two words, strength and beauty. As 
 for the first, this is a poor qualification to boast of, in 
 which we are, to say the least, equalled by the plodding 
 ox, and stupid ass. Besides, it is but three days sickness, 
 or the loss, of a little blood, and a Hercules becomes as 
 manageable as a child ! Who then would boast of what is 
 so very precarious ? 
 
 As to beauty, that fatal ornament of the female part of 
 our species, which has exhausted the human wit in rap- 
 tures to its praise, which so often proves the misfortune of 
 its possessor, and the disquiet of him who gives himself 
 to the admiration of it; which has ruined cities, armies, 
 and the virtue of thousands : What is beauty ? A pleasing 
 glare of white and red, reflected from a skin incomparably 
 exceeded by the glossy hue of the humble daisy, which 
 was made to be trod upon by ever quadruped. The mild 
 glitter of an eye, outshone by every dew-drop on the 
 grass. Is it inherent in the structure of the human frame ? 
 No : — Strip off the scarf-skin to the thickness of a fish's 
 scale ; and the charming fair grows hideous to behold. A 
 sudden fright alarms her; a fit of sickness attacks her ; the 
 roses fly from her cheeks ; her eyes lose their fire ; she 
 looks haggard, pale, and ghastly. Even in all the bloom- 
 ing pricle of beauty, what is the human frame ? A mass 
 of corruption and disease, covered over with a fair skin. 
 When the animate spirit flies, and leaves the lovely taber- 
 nacle behind, how soon does horror succeed to admira- 
 tion ? How do we hasten to hide out of sight the loath- 
 some remains of beauty ! Open the charnel-house in 
 which a very little while ago, the celebrated toast was laid. 
 
OF VIRTUE. 297 
 
 Who can now bear to look on that face, shrivelled and 
 black, and loathsome, which used to be the delight of 
 every youthful gazer ? who could now touch, with one 
 finger, her, whose very steps the enamoured youth would 
 have kissed"? Can the lover himself go near, without stop- 
 ping his nose at her, who used to breathe all the per- 
 fumes of the spring ? If beauty is a subject for boasting, 
 what is matter of mortification ? 
 
 The accomplishments of the mind are likewise two, 
 knowledge and virtue. Is there any reason to be proud 
 of the poor attainments we can in the present state gain in 
 knowledge, of which the perfection is, To know our own 
 weakness ? Is that an accomplishment to be boasted of, 
 which a blow on the head, or a week's illness will destroy ? 
 As to our attainments in virtue, or religion, to be proud 
 on those accounts, would be to be nroud of what we did 
 not possess : for pride would annihilate all our virtues, 
 and render our religion vain. If our virtue and religion 
 be not founded in humility, they are false and sophisti- 
 cate ; consequently of no value. And who would be 
 proud of what is of no value ? 
 
 The pride of riches is yet more monstrous than any of 
 the others. To turn 'the good gift of providence into van- 
 ity and wantonness ; to value one's self upon what is alto- 
 gether foreign and accidental, and makes no ptirt of 
 merit, as not being the inherent qualification either of 
 body or mind, nor any way valuable or honourable, but 
 according as we use it : What can be conceived more re- 
 mote from common sense, unless we reflect on the folly 
 of those who take occasion to value themselves on their 
 birth, and are proud that they can trace back a great many 
 fathers, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers, whose vir- 
 tues and vices belonged wholly to themselves, and are 
 gone with them ? It is amazing to think how poor a pre- 
 tence is thought sufficient to support human folly. The 
 family of the cottager is as ancient as that of the lord of 
 the manor, if it could be traced. And in every family 
 there have been scoundrels, as well as heroes, and more 
 of the former than the latter. 
 
 As pride was the introduction to all the evil that we 
 know of in the moral world, so humility is the only foun- 
 dation, upon which the structure of virtue can be raised. 
 
 2 p 
 
298 OF VIRTU l .. 
 
 A submissive, tractable temper is alone capable of being 
 formed to obedience. A mind puffed up with self-opin- 
 ion, cannot bring itself to listen to advice, or to yield to 
 just authority. The wise man endeavours to attain such 
 a knowledge of himself, that he may neither, on one hand, 
 act a part unworthy of himself, nor on the other, forget 
 his present humble station, and presume on any thought 
 or action unsuitable to it. 
 
 Before we can hope to go any great length in the due 
 regulation of our passions or inclinations, we must resolve 
 carefully to study, and thoroughly to master, that most 
 useful of all sciences, self-knowledge. 
 
 It is not in schools, in universities, or in the volumi- 
 nous works of the learned, that we must search for this 
 most important branch of knowledge. He, who would 
 know himself, must search carefully his own heart, must 
 study diligently his own character. He must above all 
 things study the peculiar weaknesses of his nature. In 
 order to find out these, he ought to recollect often what 
 particular follies have most frequently drawn him into 
 difficulties and distresses. If he finds that he has been 
 often engaged in quarrels, and disputes, he may conclude, 
 that the passion of anger is too powerful in him, and wants 
 to be brought under subjection. If he recollects various 
 instances of his behaving in a lewd, an intemperate, an en- 
 vious, or a malicious manner, and that he has often had oc- 
 casion to blame himself for a behaviour which has brought 
 upon him the reflections of the sober and regular part of 
 people ; it is evident, where the fault lies, and what is to 
 be corrected. But conscience, and.the sacred rule of life 
 contained in holy scripture, are more certain tests by 
 which to try one's character, than the general opinion of 
 mankind. 
 
 Nothing is more common, than for a person's weakness 
 to be known to every body but himself. Let a man there- 
 fore set his own conduct at a distance from himself, and 
 view r it with the same eye as he may suppose a stranger re- 
 gards it ; or with the same as he himself views that of 
 another person. Let one endeavour to find out some per- 
 son, whose behaviour and character comes the nearest to 
 his own ; and in that, view himself as in a mirror. And as 
 there is generally some resemblance between the eharac- 
 
OF VIRTUE. 299 
 
 ters of those, who keep up a long friendship, a man may, 
 generally speaking, see his own likeness in that of his 
 friend. 
 
 It will be of great consequence to you to know what 
 character is drawn of you by your enemy, especially if 
 you find several agree in the same. Enemies will help 
 you, more than friends, in discovering your faults; for 
 they will aggravate what your friends will lessen. 
 
 Attend carefully to the general strain of your thoughts. 
 Observe what subjects rise oftenest, and abide longest in 
 your mind, and what you dwell upon with the greatest de- 
 light. You will by that find out what passion, or appe- 
 tite, has the ascendant, and ought to be subdued. It is 
 from the fulness of the heart that the mouth speaks. And 
 from a man's eager manner of talking on certain favourite 
 subjects, every one, who spends an hour in his company, 
 finds out his prevailing passion, while he himself perhaps 
 is, all his life, wholly ignorant of it. Lastly, whoever 
 means in earnest to come at the true knowledge of his 
 own weaknesses, let him listen, with the most sacred at- 
 tention, to every motion of conscience. There is more 
 meaning in her softest whisper, than in the loudest ap- 
 plause of the unthinking multitude. 
 
 Another direction of the utmost consequence to our 
 setting about the due regulation of our passions, and 
 indeed to our behaving in general in a manner suitable to 
 the true dignity of our nature, is, That we reverence our- 
 selves. 
 
 The effect, which a just and habitual sense of the gran- 
 deur and importance of our nature, and the high elevation 
 Ave are formed capable of, would have upon us, is, To 
 inspire us with sentiments worthy of ourselves, and suita- 
 ble to the gracious designs of the Author of our being. 
 This is very consistent with that humility which becomes 
 us so well in our present condition. Humility is com- 
 mendable : Baseness odious. Did men habitually con- 
 sider themselves as formed for immortality, they would 
 not so generally set their whole hearts upon the present 
 life. Did they constantly keep in mind their heavenly 
 Original, and the end of their creation, they could not 
 thus sink their very souls into earth. Did they often 
 reflect upon the worth of immortal minds, they would 
 
300 " OF VIRTUE. 
 
 not think of satisfying them with the gross and sordid 
 objects of sense. Did they consider themselves as intend- 
 ed for companions of angels and archangels, they would 
 not, by indulging carnal appetites, debase themselves to 
 the level of the brutes. Did they duly reverence them- 
 selves as beings formed for the contemplation and fruition 
 of infinite perfection, they would think it beneath them to 
 place their happiness in the enjoyment of any thing cre- 
 ated. 
 
 One general rule carefully attended to, and the judg- 
 ment of our own consciences according to it faithfully 
 followed, would make the whole conduct of the passions 
 and appetites clear, and would prevent our falling into any 
 error in indulging or suppressing them. The rule is, To 
 consider what good purpose is to be gained by the exer- 
 tion of every active power of the mind ; and to take care, 
 that in the conduct of every passion and appetite, we have 
 that end singly, and nothing else in view. 
 
 I will therefore proceed to show, in a particular manner, 
 how this rule is to be applied in the regulation of those of 
 our passions and appetites, which have important effects 
 upon our moral characters. 
 
 That motion of the mind, which we call love, or 
 desire, tends, naturally to draw and engage us to what- 
 ever is either in its own nature truly amiable and excellent, 
 or which our present state renders it necessary that she 
 should be engaged to. There is no danger of our loving 
 God, or virtue, or desiring our own real happiness too much. 
 For these are proper and worthy objects of the best affec- 
 tions of every rational being throughout the whole of its 
 existence. The inclination we find in ourselves toward 
 such objects, is the pure effect of our having clear and 
 rational apprehensions of their real, internal excellence ; 
 not of any factitious or arbitrary taste implanted in our 
 minds, or any arbitrary fitness in such objects to gain our 
 affections. No rational unprejudiced mind in the universe 
 ever had, or can have, just apprehensions of the Divine 
 perfections, and of the excellence of virtue, that has not 
 admired and loved them. And the clearer the apprehen- 
 sions, the stronger must be the affection. 
 
 To mix and confound together all the motions of the, 
 mind, and to range them all indiscriminately under one- 
 
OF VIRTUE. 301 
 
 head, is reducing the whole philosophy of human nature 
 to a mere jumble. Hunger or thirst, for example, are no 
 more to be considered under the head of self-love, than anat- 
 omv under that of astronomy. The pure disinterested love 
 of virtue is no more to be called a factitious or arbitrary in- 
 clination, as the mutual desires of the sexes undoubtedly 
 is, than gravitation is to be called solidity or extension. The 
 bodily appetites, improperly so called, are plainly factious 
 and temporary ; for we can conceive of a living, conscious, 
 rational being, who has not so much as an idea of them; 
 nay, the time will come, when they will be wholly forgot 
 by at least some of our own species. But is it possible to 
 conceive of a living, conscious, rational being, who, if left 
 to itself free and uncorrupted, should be able to avoid 
 loving virtue, or could be indifferent to goodness, as soon 
 as it became an object of its perfection ? Again, the fit- 
 ness between the appetite and the object is in some cases 
 evidently arbitrary. Different species, therefore, choose 
 different sorts of food, which, without that abitrary fitness, 
 would be alike grateful or disagreeable to all tastes ; so 
 that grass and hay would be as acceptable to the lion and 
 the vulture, as to the horse and the ox ; and the flesh as 
 agreeable to the horse and the ox, as to the lion and vul- 
 ture. On the contrary, in other cases, this fitness is by no 
 means arbitrary or factitious, but unalterable and neces- 
 sary. A mind, to which apparent truth was no object ; 
 an understanding, which saw no beauty or desirableness in 
 undoubted virtue and rectitude, must be perverted from 
 its natural state, and debauched out of itself. 
 
 Our love to earthly objects may easily be carried to 
 excess. For it is evident, that a very moderate attachment 
 is sufficient, where the connexion is intended to hold only 
 for the present short life. As on the other hand, those 
 objects which are intended to be the final happiness of our 
 being, ought to be pursued with the utmost ardency of 
 affection. To pursue, with an unbounded desire, an object, 
 whose nature and perfections are bounded within very 
 narrow limits, is a gross absurdity; as to be cold and indif- 
 ferent to that which is of inestimable worth, is contrary to 
 sound reason. But to observe the general conduct of 
 mankind, one would think they considered God and 
 virtue, and eternal happiness, as objects of little or no con- 
 
302 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 sequence;. and good eating and drinking, pleasure and 
 wealth as alone worth the attention of reasonable beings. 
 One would imagine they believed that the latter were to 
 be the everlasting enjoyment of the rational mind, and the 
 former the transitory amusement of a few years at most. 
 What do mankind pursue with the greatest eagerness ? 
 What are their hearts most set upon? What does their 
 conversation most run upon? What is their last thought 
 at night and their first in the morning ? and what em- 
 ploys their minds through the whole day ? I am afraid the 
 objects, whiqh engage their supreme attention, are of no 
 higher a nature than how to get money ; to raise them- 
 selves, as they very improperly call it, in the world ; to 
 concert a party of pleasure, or some other scheme of as 
 little consequence. Now, if the present were to be the 
 final state, this turn of mind might be proper enough. 
 But that a being formed for immortality should set his 
 whole affections upon this mortal life, is as if a traveller, 
 going to a distant country, should make abundant provi- 
 sion lor the voyage, and spend his whole fortune by the 
 way, leaving nothing for his comfortable settlement when 
 he arrives, where he is to pass his days. 
 
 Suppose an unbodied spirit, of the character of most 
 human minds, entered upon the future state, left to itself, 
 and neither raised to positive happiness, nor condemned to 
 positive punishment ; I ask, what must be the condition 
 of such a being ? What can be more deplorable than the 
 situation of a mind, which has lost all the objects of its 
 delight, and can enjoy nothing of what makes the happiness 
 of the state in which it is placed ? For, alas, there is no 
 eating and drinking, no stock-jobbing or trafficking, no 
 enjoyment of wine and women, no parliamenteering in the 
 world of spirits ; and in this world of spirits we shall all 
 find ourselves before many years be gone. What then is 
 our wisdom ? Not surely to set our whole affections upon 
 this present fleeting state ; but to habituate ourselves to 
 think of the eternal existence hereafter as the principal end 
 of our being, and what ought therefore to fill up the great- 
 est part of our attention, and to engage our warmest'affec- 
 tions and most eager pursuit. 
 
 That any being in the universe should ever bring itself 
 to hate itself, or desire its own misery, as misery, isimpos,- 
 
OF VIRTUE. 303 
 
 sible. Though a reasonable self-love, rightly directed, is 
 highly commendable, nothing is more easy or common, 
 than to err egregiously with respect to self-love. Most 
 people love themselves so very much, and in a way so 
 absurd, that they love nothing else, except what is closely 
 connected with themselves : and that they love more for 
 their own sakes than any thing else. That mind must be 
 wonderfully narrow that is wholly wrapt up in itself. But 
 this is too visibly the character of most human minds. 
 The true standard* of rectitude as to self-love, is, that every- 
 one love himself as God maybe supposed to love him; 
 that is, as an individual among many. To the Divine 
 Mind every- object appears as it really is. We ought there- 
 fore to endeavour to see things in the light in which thev 
 appear to that Eye which comprehends the universal sys. 
 tern. If we thus enlarged our conceptions, we should 
 never suffer our whole regards to be possessed by any one 
 finite object whatever, not even by self. Nor should we 
 ever think of preferring ourselves unjustly to others, or 
 raising ourselves upon their ruin.- For that is to act as if 
 a man did not consider himself as a part, and a very small 
 part of an immense whole, but as the only being in the 
 universe ; than which nothing can be more monstrous. If 
 we loved ourselves as our Maker loves us, we should not 
 think of being partial to our faults ; but should view them 
 with the same eye as we do those of others. It is a great 
 unhappiness that we cannot root out of our foolish hearts 
 this shameful weakness. Does it at all alter the real evil 
 of a bad action, that it was I who did it ? Will a lie become 
 a truth in any mouth ? Is not every man's self as much 
 self, and as dear to him as I am to myself? And is the im- 
 mutable and eternal nature of right and wrong to be changed 
 by every man's fancy? If I see injustice, falsehood, or 
 impiety in another in the most odious light, does not a 
 third person sec them in me in the same manner ? And does 
 not the all-piercing Eye of heaven see them alike in all ? 
 If I am shocked at the vices of another person, have I not 
 a thousand times more reason to be startled at my own ? 
 Those of another can never do me the prejudice which my 
 own can do me. The plague at Constantinople can never 
 affect me, as if it attacked me in my own person. 
 
 The love of praise, or desire of distinction, is a passion 
 
304 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 as necessary to a thinking being, as that which prompts 
 it to preserve its existence. But as this tendency, like all 
 the others which enter into the human make, ought to be 
 subject to the government of reason, it is plain, that no 
 approbation, but that of the wise and good, is of any real 
 value, or deserves the least regard. The advantage gained 
 by the exertion of this universal propensity, is, that men 
 may be thereby excited to such a eourse of action, as will 
 deserve the approbation of the wise and good. But the 
 love of undistinguishing applause will never produce this, 
 effect. For the unthinking multitude generally give their 
 praise where it is least due, and overlook real merit. One 
 Charles of Sweden, or Lewis of France, the common 
 furies of the world, shall receive more huzzas from the 
 maddening crowd, than ten Alfreds the fathers of their coun- 
 try. So that the desire of promiseuous praise, as it defeats 
 the moral design of the passion, is altogether improper and 
 mischievous, instead of being useful. The rule for the 
 conduct of this passion is, To act such a part as shall de- 
 serve praise ; but in our conduct to have as little regard 
 as possible to praise. A good man will dare to be meanly 
 or ill thought of in doing well ; but he will not venture to 
 do ill in order to be commended. 
 
 The passion, or emotion which we call anger, serves 
 the same purpose as the natural weapons with which the 
 animal creation is furnished, as teeth, horns, hoofs, and 
 claws ; I mean for our defence against attacks and insults. 
 Cool reason alone would not have sufficiently animated us 
 in our own defence, to secure us in the quiet possession of 
 our natural rights, any more than it would alone have sug- 
 gested to us the due care and nourishment of our bodies. 
 To supply, therefore, the deficiencies of reason in our pres- 
 ent imperfect state, passion and appetite come in, and are 
 necessary to the human composition. And it would have 
 been as much to the purpose, that the ancient Stoics should 
 have directed their disciples to eradicate hunger and thirst, 
 as anger, grief, love, and the other natural passions. It 
 is indeed too true, that in our present imperfect state we are 
 in much greater danger of yielding too much to our pas- 
 sions, than of subduing them too thoroughly; and there- 
 fore we find all wise teachers, and particularly the best of 
 teachers, who came from heaven to instruct us, labouring 
 
OF VIRTUE. 305 
 
 to inculcate upon mankind the conquest of passion and ap- 
 petite, without setting any bounds to the length they would 
 have the conquest carried ; as knowing, that there is no 
 need to caution men against an excess on this safest side. 
 And, with respect to the passion we are now treating of, if 
 a person does not show himself wholly incapable of being 
 moved, if he does not directly invite injuries and assaults, 
 by bearing without all measure; if he does but from time 
 to time show that he has in him too much spirit to suffer 
 himself to be trampled upon ; I am clearly of opinion, that 
 he cannot exert this passion too seldom, or too moderately. 
 
 If we take the same method for coming at the true state 
 of things in this, as in other cases, viz. endeavouring, as 
 before directed to get that view of them which appears be- 
 fore the all-comprehensive eye of God, we shall then see 
 how absurd the excessive indulgence of this lawless pas- 
 sion is. To the Supreme Mind we appear a set of infirm, 
 short-sighted, helpless beings, engaged to one another by 
 nature, and the necessity of our affairs ; incapable of great- 
 ly prejudicing one another ; all very nearly upon a footing ; 
 all guilty before him ; all alike under his government, and 
 ali to stand hereafter before the same judgment-seat. 
 How ridiculous must then our fatal quarrels, our import- 
 ant points of honour, our high indignation, and our mighty 
 resentments appear before him ? Infinitely more con- 
 temptible than the contentions between the frogs and 
 mice do to us in the ludicrous ancient poem ascribed to 
 Homer. 
 
 But this is not all. Let it be considered also how the 
 impiety of our hatred and resentment, must appear before 
 that Eye, which sees all things as they are. That the Su- 
 preme Governor of the world should choose to vindicate 
 to himself the privileges of searching the hearts, and of 
 knowing the real characters of all his creatures, is no more 
 than might be expected. Whoever therefore presumes 
 to pronounce upon the character or state of any of his fel- 
 low-creatures before God, assumes the incommunicable 
 privilege of Divinity. Now, every man who hates his 
 fellow -creature, must first conclude him to be wicked and 
 hateful in the sight of God, or he must hate him whom 
 God loves ; which is such a piece of audacious opposition 
 to the Divine Mind, as hardly any man will confess him- 
 
 2 Q 
 
306 OF VIKTUL. 
 
 self capable of. Again for a private person to take upon 
 him to avenge an injury, (in any way besides having re- 
 course to lawful authority which is founded in the Divine) 
 what is it less than assuming the authority of God himself, 
 whose privilege it is to decide finally, either immediately, 
 or by those whom he has authorised for that purpose ? 
 
 Farther, let the effects of this unruly passion, carried to 
 its utmost length, and indulged universally, be consider- 
 ed, that we may judge whether it be most for the good of 
 the whole, that we conquer, or give way to it. Experi- 
 ence shows, that every passion and appetite indulged, 
 would proceed to greater and greater lengths without end. 
 Suppose then every man to lay the reins upon the neck of 
 his fury, and give himself up to be driven by it without 
 controul into all manner of madness and extravagance : 
 The obvious consequence must be the destruction of the 
 weaker by the stronger, till the world became a desert. 
 
 Whatever is right for one man to practice, is equally 
 right for all, unless circumstances make a difference. If 
 it be proper that one man indulge anger without a cause, 
 no circumstance can make it improper that all do so. If 
 it be proper that one man suffer his passion to hurry him 
 on to abuse, or destroy an innocent person, it is proper 
 that all do so, and that the world be made one vast scene 
 of blood and desolation. 
 
 People ought to be very careful in the younger part of 
 life, not to give way to passion i for all habits strengthen 
 with years. And he, who in youth indulges an angry and 
 fretful temper, by the time he comes into years, is likely 
 to be unsufferable by his peevishness ; which, though not 
 so fatal and terrible as a furious temper, is more frequent- 
 ly troublesome, and renders the person who gives way to 
 it more thoroughly contemptible. The excessive strength 
 of all our passions is owing to our neglect to curb them in 
 time, before they become unconquerable. 
 
 When therefore you feel passion rising, instead of giving 
 it vent in outrageous expressions, which will inflame both 
 your own, and that of the person you are angry with, ac- 
 custom yourself to call reflection to your assistance. Say 
 to yourself, What is there in this affair of sufficient con- 
 sequence to provoke me to expose myself? Had I not 
 better drop the quarrel, if the offence were much more 
 
OF VIRTUE. 307 
 
 attrocious, than be guilty of folly? If I have lost money, 
 or honour, by this injurious person, must I lose by him 
 my wits too ? How would a Socrates > or a Phocian, have 
 behaved on such an occasion ? How did a greater than 
 cither behave on an occasion of incomparably greater prov- 
 ocation, while he had it in his power to have struck his 
 enemies dead with a word ? True greatness appears in 
 restraining, not giving a loose to passion. 
 
 Make a resolution for one day not to be put out of 
 temper upon any account. If you can keep it one day, 
 you may two ; and so on. To keep you in mind of 
 your resolution, you may wear a ring upon a particular 
 finger, or use any other such contrivance. You may ac- 
 custom yourself never to say any thing peevish, without 
 thinking it over as long as you could count six deliberate- 
 ly. After you have habituated yourself for some time to 
 this practice, you will find it as unnatural to blunder out 
 rash speeches, as you do now to deliberate before you 
 speak. 
 
 Envy and malice are rather corruptions of natural pas* 
 sions, than the natural growth of the human heart. For 
 the very least degree of them is wicked and unnatural as 
 well as the greatest. Emulation, out of which arises 
 envy, is one of the noblest exertions of a rational mind. 
 To aspire to equal whatever is truly great in a fellow-crea- 
 ture, what can show more conspicuously true greatness 
 of mind '? What worthy mind was ever without this dis- 
 position ? But to look with an evil eye upon, or to hate 
 that excellence in another, which we cannot, or will not 
 emulate, is the very disposition of an evil spirit : for it is 
 hating a person for the very thing which ought to excite 
 love and admiration. 
 
 Some of the other excesses we are apt to run into in 
 indulging our passions have to plead for themselves, that 
 the exertion of those passions is attended with a sensible 
 pleasure. But anger, hatred, malice, envy, revenge, and 
 all the irascible passions, the more strongly they operate, 
 the greater the torment they produce. And it must be 
 an extraordinary degree of virulence in a mind, that makes 
 it choose to torture itself for the sake of exerting its spite 
 against another. Which spite also, through the good- 
 ness of an over-ruling Providence, instead of hurting the 
 
308 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 person attacked, most commonly recoils in vengeance 
 upon him who has indulged in himself so devilish a tem- 
 per. 
 
 The natural inclination we have to sympathise with our 
 fellow-creatures, to make their ease our own, and to suffer 
 a sensible pain when we think of their misery or misfor- 
 tune, was placed in us to draw us more effectually than 
 reason alone would, to endeavour to relieve them. It is 
 therefore evident, that this motion of the mind ought to 
 be encouraged and strengthened in us, because we cannot 
 be too much attached to our fellow-creatures, at the same 
 time that we ought 10 act chiefly upon rational motives in 
 endeavouring to relieve the distresses of our brethren of 
 mankind. 
 
 Fear is a natural passion of the mind, and ought no more 
 to be eradicated than any of the others. A reasonable 
 caution against, and desire of avoiding whatever would 
 prove in any degree hurtful, is the prudent motion of every 
 rational created mind. The conduct of this passion con- 
 sists in directing our fear, or caution, to proper objects. 
 To fear poverty, or pain, or death, more than guilt ; to 
 dread the misery of an hour, or of a life, more than a future 
 punishment for ages, is fearing a lesser evil more than a 
 greater, choosing an extreme degree of misery for the sake 
 of avoiding an inconsiderable one. 
 
 Though a dastardly spirit is, generally speaking, a proof 
 of baseness of mind, it dees not therefore follow, that to 
 dare to attempt any thing, however unreasonable or unjust, 
 is true fortitude. A bully, a drunkard, or a lunatic, will 
 attack what a wise man will avoid encountering with. For 
 the natural or adventitious vivacity of temper in such per- 
 sons, which is owing to bodily constitution, or intoxica- 
 tion by liquor, or to a preternatural flow of spirits hurry- 
 ing them on, and reason being in them very weak, or 
 altogether insufficient for restraining their impetuosity, it 
 is no wonder if they run into the most extravagant and 
 dangerous adventures, nor if they sometimes carry all 
 before them. For the very notion that a person, or body 
 of men, are resolute to a desperate degree, renders tin m 
 much more formidable to a people who have not, or per- 
 haps cannot work themselves up to the same pitch. True 
 courage is cool and deliberate, founded in a strong attach- 
 
OF VIRTUE. 309 
 
 ment to justice, truth, love of one's country, and of true 
 glory ; and is regulated and restrained by wisdom and 
 goodness. True fortitude appears infinitely more glori- 
 ous in the faithful martyr, who subdued by want and 
 imprisonment, goes on without fear, but without pride, 
 friendless and alone, and in the midst of the insulting 
 crowd gives up his body to the devouring flames in honour 
 of God and his truth, than in the blustering comman- 
 der at the head of his thousands, who marches to battle, 
 and, in confidence of the might of his arm already assures 
 himself of victory ; and yet the latter is immortilized by the 
 venal strain of flattery, while the former is passed over in 
 silence. 
 
 The loss of some good which w r e have either enjoyed 
 or had reasonable hopes of attaining, or the arrival of some 
 positive evil, is a reasonable subject of reasonable grief ^ 
 and the concern of mind ought to be proportioned to the 
 greatness of the loss, or the severity of the calamity which 
 is come upon us. As for the afflictions of this present 
 life, such as the loss of riches, of health, of the favor of 
 the great, of the good opinion of our fellow-creatures, of 
 friends or relations, by removal to distant places, or by 
 death ; these, and the like, being all temporary, we show 
 our wisdom most by bearing them with patience, or even 
 most of them with indifference, in consideration of the 
 prospect we have, if we be virtuous, of having all such 
 losses made up to us hereafter ; of being hereafter pos- 
 sessed of the true and unfading riches ; of having the in- 
 tegrity of our characters cleared before men and angels ; 
 of being restored to our valuable friends and relations, 
 and united to them in a better and happier state, where 
 they and we shall be fitter for true and exalted friendship, 
 and where we shall no more fear a cruel separation. 
 
 There is but one just subject of great or lasting grief 
 that I know of; it is the consideration of our guilt before 
 God. That we ourselves, or others, should ever have of- 
 fended the kindest and best of beings, whom we were, by 
 all the ties of nature and reason, obliged to love, to obey, 
 and to adore ; this is a grief that will lie heavy upon every 
 considerate mind : And till that happy day comes, when 
 all tears are to be wiped away, and all griefs buried in ob- 
 livion, the thought of our own guilt, and that of our un- 
 
310 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 happy unthinking fellow-creatures, ought not for a long 
 time to be out of our view. Nor is there any degree of 
 concern (inferior to what might disqualify us for the per- 
 formance of the duties of life) too great for the occasion. 
 Nor can any thing be imagined more absurd, than for a 
 reasoning being to express more uneasiness about a trifling- 
 loss of affliction, which, like all temporal distresses, will, 
 after a kw years be to us, as if they had never been ; at 
 the same time that the consideration of those offences 
 against the Majesty of heaven, which may have fatal ef- 
 fects upon their final state, raises no uneasiness in their 
 minds. That a thinking creature (or rather a creature 
 capable of thought) should fret for the loss of a mortal 
 friend or relation, whom we always knew to be mortal, 
 and be under no convern for his having alienated from 
 himself by his wickedness, the favour of the most power- 
 ful, the most faithful, and the kindest friend. That a ra- 
 tional creature should bitterly lament the lost patronage 
 of a prince, or peer, whose favour he knew to be uncer- 
 tain and precarious, and give himself no trouble about his 
 having forfeited the protection of Him, upon whom he 
 depends for every moment's existence, and every degree 
 of happiness he can enjoy in the present life, and through 
 all eternity ! Surely such grief is indulged with great 
 impropriety ! 
 
 While we live in the body, it is plainly necessary, that we 
 bestow a reasonable attention upon the body, for provid- 
 ing whatever may be useful for its health and support. To 
 think of eradicating, or destroying the appetites, would 
 be making sure of the destruction of the body. The point 
 we ought to have in view fs, therefore, to conduct and 
 regulate them so, as best to answer the wise ends, for which 
 they were planted in our nature. 
 
 That every living creature should have in its make a 
 strong desire to preserve life, was necessary. But in ra- 
 tional minds all natural instincts are to be under the con- 
 troul of reason ; the superior faculty to govern the inferior. 
 It is evident, that there may be many cases, in which rec- 
 titude and propriety may require us to get over the instinct- 
 ive love of life, as well as to conquer the influence of the 
 other natural passions. Whoever loves life more than vir- 
 tue, religion, or his country, is guilty of a gross absurd- 
 
OF VIRTUE. 311 
 
 ity in preferring that, which is of less consequence, to that 
 which is of greater. We are always to endeavour, as be- 
 fore observed, to view things in the light, they may be 
 supposed to appear in to the All-comprehensive Mind. 
 But I cannot bring myself to believe, that my life appears 
 to the Supreme Mind of such importance, that it ought 
 to be preserved to the prejudice of sacred and eternal truth ; 
 that it is better, the people should perish for one man, than 
 one man for the people. 
 
 If the heroes and sages among the Heathens, who had 
 no such sure prospect of a future existence as we have, 
 or may have ; if they, whose views of a life to come, were 
 rather strong desires, than well established hopes ; if they 
 showed such a contempt of the present life, as to give it 
 up with joy and triumph for the service of their country, 
 and for the sake of truth ; of which historv furnishes in- 
 stances almost innumerable; it were to be expected, that 
 we should, in the contempt of life, greatly exceed them ; 
 which, to our shame, is far from being the case. 
 
 A competency of the good things of life being neces-. 
 sary for the support of life, it is evident, that a reasonable 
 degree of care, industry, and frugality, is altogether pro- 
 per ; of which I have treated pretty copiously in the first 
 part of this work. Whenever this care for the convenien- 
 ces of life proceeds to such a length, as to produce a love 
 of riches for their own sake, it is then, that a man shows 
 himself bewildered and lost to all rational and judicious 
 views, and enchanted with a mere imaginary object of no 
 real value in itself. That a man should bestow his whole 
 labour in heaping up pieces of metal, or paper, and should 
 make his very being wretched, because he cannot get to- 
 gether the quantity he aims at, which he does not need, 
 nor would use, if he had them in his possession ; is much 
 the same wisdom, as if he spent his life in filling his mag- 
 azines with cockle-shells, or pebbles. If it be likewise 
 remembered, that every passion indulged, becomes in time 
 an unconquerable habit, and that a fixed love of sordid 
 riches is altogether unsuitable to the spiritual, immortal 
 state, for which we were intended, where gold and silver 
 will be of no value; if it be considered, that a great de- 
 cree of avarice is wholly inconsistent with every generous 
 sentiment, and even with common honesty ; and that any 
 
312 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 constant pursuit whatever, which engages the whole atten- 
 tion, and takes it off from those sublime views of futurity, 
 and those preparations for immortality, which are absolutely 
 necessary toward our being found fit for that final state, is 
 highly criminal ; if these, and various other considerations, 
 be allowed their due weight, it will appear, that covet- 
 ousness is a vice altogether unsuitable to the dignity of our 
 nature, and that the safe side to err on, with regard to rich- 
 es, is, To be too indifferent, rather than too anxious about 
 them. 
 
 If the sole design of the appetite of hunger be, to ob- 
 lige us mechanically, by means of pain, to take that due 
 care of supporting the body by proper nourishment, which 
 we could not have been so agreeably, and effectually 
 brought to, by pure reason; it is obvious, that the view 
 we ought to have in eating, is the support of life. That 
 kind of food, which is fittest for nourishing the bodv, 
 and the least likely to breed diseases, is evidently the best. 
 And if artificial dishes, unnatural mixtures, and high 
 sauces, be the least proper for being assimilated into chyle 
 and blood, and the most likely to produce humours un- 
 friendly to the constitution ; what is commonly called rich 
 feeding is, in truth, slow poison. Itistherefore very strange, 
 that men should have so little command of themselves, 
 that for the sake of the trifling pleasure of having their 
 palates tickled with a savoury taste, they should venture 
 the shortening of their days. At the same time, that the 
 enormous expense of a rich table might be spared, and 
 the same or indeed a much higher pleasure, in eating, 
 might be enjoyed, if people would but give themselves 
 time and exercise to acquire a hearty appetite. But I 
 really believe, that is what some have never experienced, 
 and consequently have no conception of. 
 
 The vices we are in danger of running into, by which 
 our table may become a snare to us, bestowing too great 
 expense, or too much time at our meals, over-gorging na- 
 ture, or hurting our health by a wrong choice of food. 
 Nothing seems more evident, than that to waste or squan- 
 der away the good gifts of Providence, especially in so 
 sordid a manner, as upon the materials of gluttony, is 
 altogether unjustifiable. The only rational notion we can 
 form of the design of Providence in bestowing riches upon 
 
OF VIRTUE. 313 
 
 some, and sinking others in poverty, is, That men are 
 placed in those different circumstances with a view to the 
 trial and exercise of different virtues. So that riches arc 
 to be considered as a stewardship, not to be lavished away 
 in pampering our vices, and supporting our vanity, but to 
 be laid out in such a manner as we shall hereafter be able 
 to answer for, to Him, who entrusted us with them. And 
 whoever bestows yearly in gorging and gluttony, what 
 might support a great many families in industry andfrugal- 
 ity, let him see to the consequences. 
 
 Again, if we be really spirits, though at present em- 
 bodied ; it seems pretty plain, that the feeding of the body 
 ought not to engross any great proportion of our time. 
 If indeed we look upon ourselves as more body than spirit, 
 we odght then to bestow the principal attention upon the 
 body. But this is what few will care to own in words ; 
 which makes their declaring it by their practice the more 
 absurd, and inconsistent. 
 
 If it be our duty to preserve our health and life for use- 
 fulness in our station, it can never be innocent in us to 
 pervert the very means appointed for the support of the 
 body, to the destruction of the body. We are here upon 
 duty, and are to keep upon our post, till called off. And 
 he who trifles with life, and loses it upon any frivolous 
 occasion, must answer for it hereafter to the Author of 
 Life. 
 
 Lastly, if it be certain, that in the future world of spirits, 
 to which we are all hastening, there will be no occasion 
 for this appetite, nor any gratifying of appetites at all, 
 nothing is more evident, than the absurdity of indulging it 
 in such an unbounded and licentious manner, as to give it 
 an absolute ascendant over us, and to work it into the very 
 mind, so as it shall remain, when the body, for whose 
 sake it was given, has no farther occasion for it. The 
 design our Maker had in placing us in this state of disci- 
 pline, was to give us an opportunity of cultivating in our- 
 selves other sorts of habits than those of gluttony and sen- 
 suality. 
 
 Of the many fatal contrivances, which our species, too 
 fertile in invention, have hit upon for corrupting them- 
 selves, defacing the blessed Maker's image upon the mind, 
 and perverting the end of their creation: none would ap- 
 
 2 R 
 
314 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 pear more unaccountable, if we were not too well accus- 
 tomed to sec instances of it, than the savage vice of drunk- 
 enncss. That ever it should become a practice for rational 
 be ings to delight in overturning their reason ; that ever 
 men should voluntarily choose, by swallowing a magical 
 draught, to brutify themselves ; nay, to sink themselves 
 below the level of the brutes ; for drunkenness is peculiar 
 to our species ; this madness must appear to other orders 
 of being, wonderfully shocking. No man can bear the 
 least reflection upon his understanding, whatever he will 
 upon his virtue. Yet men will indulge a practice, by 
 which experience convinces them, they will effectually 
 lose their understanding, and become perfect idiots. Un- 
 thinking people are wont to look with great contempt upon 
 natural fools. But in what light ought they to view a 
 fool of his own making ? What can be conceived more 
 unsuitable to the Dignity of Human Nature, than the 
 drunkard, with his eyes staring, his tongue stammering, 
 his lips quivering, his hands trembling, his legs tottering, 
 his stomach heaving. Decency will not suffer me to pro- 
 ceed in so filthy a description. The swine, wallowing in 
 the mire, is not so loathsome an object as the drunkard ; 
 for nature in her meanest dress is always nature : but the 
 drunkard is a monster out of nature. The only rational 
 being upon earth reduced to absolute incapacity of reason, 
 or speech ! A being formed for immortality sunk into filth 
 and sensuality ! A creature endowed with capacities for 
 being a companion of angels, and inhabiting the etherial 
 regions, in a condition not fit to come into a clean room, 
 among his fellow creatures ! The lord of this world sunk 
 below the vilest of the brutes ! 
 
 One would think all this was bad enough ; but there is 
 much worse to be said against this most abominable and 
 fatal vice. For there is no other that so effectually and so 
 suddenly unhinges and overturns all virtues, and destroys 
 every thing valuable in the mind, as drunkenness. For it 
 takes off every restraint, and opens the mind to every 
 temptation. So that there is no such expeditious way for 
 a person to corrupt and debauch himself, to turn himself 
 from a man into a demon, as by intoxicating himself, 
 with strong liquor. Nor is there, perhaps, any other 
 habit so bewitching, and which becomes so soon uncon- 
 
OF VIRTUE. 31$ 
 
 querable as drunkenness. The reason is plain. There is 
 no vice which so effectually destroys reason. And when 
 the faculties of the mind are overturned, what means can 
 the unhappy person use, or what course can another take 
 with him, to set him right? To attempt to reform a con- 
 firmed drunkard, is much the same as preaching to a 
 madman, or idiot. Reason, the helm of the mind, once 
 destroyed, there is nothing remaining wherewith to steer it. 
 It must then be left to run adrift. 
 
 It is deplorable to think of the miserable pretences made 
 use of to apologize for this beastly vice. One excuses 
 himself by his being necessarily obliged to keep company. 
 But it is notorious that nothing more effectually disqualifies 
 a man for company, than to have his tongue tied, and his 
 brains stupified with liquor. Besides, no man is obliged 
 to do himself a mischief, to do another no kindness. 
 Another pretends he is drawn by his business or way of 
 life, to taverns and places of entertainment. But a man 
 must never have been drunk, nor even seen another drunk, 
 to imagine that strong liquor will help him in driving bar- 
 gains. On the contrary, every body knows, that o*e is 
 never so likely to be imposed on as when he is in liquor. 
 Nor is the pretence of drinking to drive away care,, to 
 pass the time, or to cheer the spirits, more worthy of a ra- 
 tional creature. If, by the force of strong liquor, a man's 
 cares may be mechanically banished, and his conscience 
 lulled asleep for a time, he can only expect them to break 
 loose upon him afterwards with "the greater fury. He 
 who artificially raises his spirits by drinking, will find 
 them sink and* flag in proportion. And then they must 
 be raised again ; and so on, till at last he has no spirits to 
 raise. For understanding, and fortune, and virtue, and 
 health, all fall before this dreadful destroyer. As for 
 drinking to pass the time, instead of an excuse, it is an 
 aggravation. It is criminal enough to waste expense and 
 health, without lavishing precious time besides. 
 
 Nor is the pretence of being odious among one's neigh- 
 bours, and being looked upon as a precise fellow, for liv- 
 ing temperately, any better than the others. Alas ! we arc 
 not hereafter to stand or fall by the opinion of our neigh- 
 bours. Besides, we ourselves in many cases show a neg- 
 lect of the ppinion of mankind; and do not cross bur 
 
316 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 inclinations to gain it. And if in one instance, why not 
 in another ? We may be sure of the favourable opinion 
 of the sober part of our acquaintance by keeping on the 
 right side ; the approbation of one of whom is preferable 
 to that of a thousand drunkards. 
 
 Of all kinds of intemperance, the modern times have 
 produced one of the most fatal and unheard of, which 
 like a plague over-runs andlays waste both town and coun- 
 try, sweeping the lower part of the people, who indulge 
 in it, by thousands to the grave. The unhappy invention 
 I mean, and which seems by its mischievous effects to 
 claim Satan himself for its author, is the drinking of fer- 
 mented spirituous liquors. This is no place for setting 
 forth the destructive effects of that most shocking species 
 of debauchery. That has been the subject of a parlia- 
 mentary inquiry. And it is to be hoped, that the accounts 
 laid before that august body, which were tragical enough 
 to melt a heart of rock, will be the cause of producing 
 an effectual remedy for that ruinous national evil. 
 
 The best human means I know of, for conquering a 
 habit of drinking, are to avoid temptation, to accustom 
 one's self by degrees to lessen the quantity, and lower the 
 strength of the liquor by a more copious dilution with water. 
 
 The natural desire of the two sexes was placed in us 
 for the support of the species. It is not therefore to be erad- 
 icated ; but only brought under proper regulations, so as 
 the end may the best be answered. That the union of one 
 man and woman for life, was the original design, is evi- 
 dent from the near equality between the numbers of the 
 two sexes. For one man therefore to break loose upon 
 the other sex, and appropriate to himself a plurality, is 
 evidently against the order of nature, and inconsistent 
 with the good of society, in which every individual is to 
 enjoy all his natural rights and privileges, and all monop- 
 olies are unjust. That the marriage engagement ought to 
 be sacred and indissoluble but by death, is plain from con- 
 sidering the various bad effects of its being precarious ; as 
 alienating the affections of the two parties for one another, 
 and for their common children, and thereby defeating one 
 main end of their coming together, viz. to be mutual 
 helps and supports to one another under the various dis- 
 tresses of life ; encouraging inconstancy and an endless 
 
OF VIRTUE. 317 
 
 desire of variety ; and exposing one of the sexes to the 
 u n happiness of a slavish dependence. That all commerce 
 of the sexes, where a due care is not had for the offspring, 
 is vicious, is evident from considering, that thereby the 
 very design of nature is frustrated. That invading the 
 bed of our neighbour is highly injurious, is plain, because 
 it is a breach of the most solemn engagements, and most 
 sacred vows, without which there could be no marriage. 
 T lat all commerce of the sexes, except in lawful mar- 
 riage, is unjustifiable, is certain, in that it tends to the 
 di^> ouragement of that most wise and excellent institution. 
 And that is the indispensable duty of every man and wo- 
 man to enter into that state, excepting in the case of unsur- 
 mountable constitutional or prudential objections, is as 
 pl.iin, as that it is the duty of every man and woman to 
 eat and drink. For it is as certainly the design of Provi- 
 dence, that the species be kept up, as that the life of indi- 
 viduals be preserved by nourishment. And what is the 
 duty of one is the duty of all, unless in the case of insuper- 
 able obstacles. 
 
 The indulgence of this appetite to excess is as clearly un- 
 justifiable as that of any other. The effects of every undue 
 sensual indulgence are sinking and debasingthe mind, mis- 
 leading it from the sublime views, and noble pursuits, for 
 which it was created, and habituating it to disobedience 
 and misrule ; which is directly contrary to the intention of 
 a state of discipline. Whoever gives himself up to the 
 uncontroled dominion of passion or appetite, sells him- 
 self an unredeemable slave to the most rigorous, and most 
 despicable of tyrants. And it is only going on farther and 
 farther in such base indulgences, and at last, no gratifica- 
 tion whatever of the desire will be sufficient. Yet, there 
 is no state in life, in which abstinence at times, from sen- 
 sual gratifications of every kind, is not indispensably neces- 
 sary. Every reader's common sense will convince him of 
 the truth of this, and particularly with respect to the sub- 
 ject we are now upon. Though marriage is the natural 
 way of gratifying the mutual desires of the sexes, every 
 body knows, that a continued indulgence is utterly incom- 
 patible with the marriage state. Which shows plainly, 
 that due regulation and restraint of every passion and ap- 
 petite, is the scheme of nature, and that unbounded excess 
 
318 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 is contrary to nature. And yet, how strange is it to consid- 
 er the poor and superficial fallacies, which mankind think, 
 sufficient to satisfy themselves with, rather than give up 
 their favourite vices and follies ! What can be more con- 
 temptible than the common plea for all excessive and ir- 
 regular indulgences, particularly the criminal commerce 
 of the sexes ; That we are formed with natural inclinations, 
 desires, and powers ; and why should we not act accord- 
 ing to the bent of our nature ? 
 
 To pursue the ends of nature, according to the order of 
 nature, is so far from being criminal, that it is virtue. But 
 excess and irregularity are directly contrary to nature's 
 views. This is seen by every man, in every case where 
 passion and appetite do not blind him. We have a natural 
 appetite, for example, to food. How oomes it then, that 
 we do not as often over-gorge our stomachs with plain 
 bread as with dainties ? The one would be as irregular 
 and vicious as the other. Yet we should see a strange 
 absurdity in the former, while we can excuse ourselves 
 in the latter. If we are formed with a natural appetite for 
 food, why do we make such a difference in the indulgence 
 of our appetite in delicacies, from plain food ? The truth 
 is, that excess of all kinds is indefensible, and unnatural. 
 If it were natural, we should be as apt to eat too much 
 bread, as too much pastry. It is the deplorable weakness 
 of our nature, that we yield to appetite and passion, till 
 they become too powerful for us, and lead us captive in 
 spite of ourselves. While we pretend we only follow 
 nature, we are indulging a false and vitiated taste. And 
 in no indulgence is there more shameful excess commit- 
 ted, nor greater deviations from the intention of nature, 
 than in that which is the subject of this paragraph. Were 
 the above apology for excess of any weight, that is, were 
 it proper we should do every thing we have power or 
 inclination to, we might by the same plea throw ourselves 
 down a precipice, because we have power to do it. The 
 thief may steal, because he has a natural desire to ease 
 rather than labour ; the drunkard may drink himself to 
 death, because it is natural to quench thirst ; the passion- 
 ate man may kill his enemy, because he has a natural dis- 
 position to repel injuries ; in short, if this plea be good 
 
OF VIRTUE. 319 
 
 for anv thing it renders all excesses, which take their first 
 rise from a natural appetite, innocent. 
 
 Such an indulgence in sleep, in leisure or in action, and 
 in relaxations or amusements, as may be necessary for 
 the refreshment and health of these frail vehicles we now 
 inhabit is allowable. And the just measure of such 
 indulgences is different according to different constitu- 
 tions and ways of life. But it is to be feared, that hun- 
 dreds exceed the bounds of moderation, for one, who 
 restricts himself too much. Let every reader lay his hand 
 upon his heart, and think what lost time he will have to 
 answer for hereafter. The safe side is, to indulge rather 
 too little than too much. A tolerable constitution will 
 hold better with eight hours sleep, in the twenty-four, than 
 with more. And as to relaxations or diversions, the plea 
 of their necessity is wholly groundless, except for those 
 who live a laborious, or studious life. What necessity 
 for those, whose whole existence is one continued course 
 of indulgence and relaxation, for relaxation ? Relaxation 
 from what ? Not from business ; for they never do any. 
 The proper relaxation from idleness, would be to do some- 
 what. And there is no mortal, who is one degree above 
 an idiot, that is not capable of doing something worth liv- 
 ing for. 
 
 Whoever can persuade himself, that it was the inten- 
 tion of his Maker, in placing him in this state of discipline, 
 that he should pass an existence as useless as that of a 
 stock or a stone, (supposing him innocent of all positive 
 crimes) must have strange notions of the Divine econ- 
 omy, and of his own nature. If that sort of life be lawful 
 and proper for one, it is so for all. And where would 
 then be the business of life, the improvement of ourselves, 
 the care of our children, the government of kingdoms, 
 the advancement of the species towards a preparation for a 
 future state of happiness ? Let no one pretend, that he 
 cannot find employment, till he has at least performed all 
 that is perscribed in this book. 
 
 I will here throw together a few remarks on some of 
 the modem fashionable amusements. 
 
 Gaming is an amusement wholly unworthy of rational 
 beings, having neither the pretence of exercising the body, 
 or exerting ingenuity, or of giving any natural pleasure ; 
 
320 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 and owing its entertainment wholly to an unnatural and 
 vitiated taste ; the cause of infinite loss of time, of enor- 
 mous destruction of money, of irritating the passions, of 
 stirring up avarice, of innumerable sneaking tricks and 
 frauds, of encouraging idleness, of disgusting people 
 against their proper employments, and of sinking and 
 debasing all that is truly great and valuable in the mind.* 
 As for the theatrical diversions, they are managed in 
 such a manner, that a sober person may be ashamed to 
 be seen at many of them. It is notorious that the bulk of 
 our English plays are not fit to be seen in print. The 
 tragedies are, generally speaking, a heap of wild flights 
 and bombastic rants, and the comedies of scandalous im- 
 purities ; neither of which can be thought worthy the at- 
 tention of a people, who value themselves either upon 
 their taste or their virtue. There may be found, perhaps, 
 in the English language, about twenty or thirty pieces, 
 especially some of Shakspeare''s, which, if subjected to 
 
 * Cards bei ng now become so universal, as to be the nuisance of almost alJ 
 companies, it may seem necessary in opposing' the general practice of the polite, 
 to support what is above said against card-playing by some authorities, which 
 will, I believe, appear at least, equal to those of any of the most eminent modern 
 defenders of that stupid and mischievous amusement. 
 
 " Play, wherein persons of condition, especially ladies" (in our times all ages 
 sexes, and ranks) " waste so much of their time, is a plain instance that people 
 cannot be idle; they must be doing something," (if it be mischief) "For how 
 else could they sit so many hours toiling at that which gives generally more 
 •aeration than delight to people, while they are engaged in it? It is certain, 
 gaming leaves no satisfaction behind it to those who reflect when it is over, 
 and it no way profits either body or mind. As to estates, if it strike so deep as 
 to concern them, it is then a trade, and not a recreation, wherein few thrive ; 
 and at best, a thriving gamester has but a poor trade on't, who fills his pockets 
 ct the price of his reputation." Locke on EJucat. p. 366. 
 
 And afterwards, page 368. 
 
 " As to cards and dice, I think the safest and best way is, never to learn any 
 play upon them, and so to be incapacitated for those dangerous temptations and 
 encroaching wasters of useful time.'" 
 
 What would this great man have said, had he lived in our times, when it is 
 common for people to spend five or six hours every night at cards, Sunday not 
 excepted ; which amounts to the fourth or fifth part of the whole time of life, 
 and Comes in all to perhaps ten or a dozen years in a long life ? 
 
 Let us now hear Mr. Addison on the same subject. Spect.No. 93. 
 
 " I must confess I think it is below reasonable creatures to be altogether con- 
 versant in such diversions as are merely innace nt, and have nothing else to re- 
 commend them, but that there is no hurt in them. Whether any kind of gam- 
 ing has even thus much to say for itself, I shall not determine ; but I think it'is 
 very wonderful to see persons of the be»t tense, passing away hours together in 
 shitjjlirg and dividing a pack of cards, with no other conversation, but what is 
 made up of a few game phrases, and no other ideas, but those of black or red 
 jpofs, ranged together in different figures. Would not a man laugh to hear an}' 
 one of tins species complaining that life is short ?" 
 
OF VIRTUE. 321 
 
 pretty severe castigation, and properly represented, might 
 be said to make a noble entertainment. But these serve 
 only as traps to draw in the innocent and unwary to a de* 
 light in the diversions of the theatre. And by the sagacity 
 of the managers of the theatres, who very well know, that, 
 the gross of an audience have no taste for what is really 
 excellent in those entertainments, and are only to be pleas- 
 ed with show, or ribaldry; by their cunning management, 
 I say, it comes about, that it is not much safer for a young 
 and innocent person to be present at the representation of 
 a chaste and virtuous piece, than of one of the most pro- 
 fane. What does it avail, that the piece itself be unex- 
 ceptionable, if it is to be interlarded with lewd songs or 
 dances, and tagged at the conclusion with a ludicrous and 
 beastly farce ? I cannot therefore, in conscience, give youth 
 any other advice, than generally to avoid such diversions, 
 as cannot be indulged without the utmost danger of per- 
 verting their taste, and corrupting their morals. 
 
 As for masquerades, if the intention of them be in- 
 triguing, they answer some end, though a bad one ; if not, 
 they seem bv all accounts to be such a piece of wretched 
 foolery, as ought to be beneath any but children or mad 
 people. That a thousand people should come together 
 in ridiculous dresses only to squeak to one another, / 
 know you, and, Do you know me I Posterity, if the world 
 should grow a little wiser, will not believe it ; but will 
 conclude, that their grandfathers and grandmothers were 
 very naught. A multitude assembled together in masks, 
 by which means shame, the great restraint from vice, is 
 banished ! What can be imagined more threatening to the 
 interests of virtue and decency ?* 
 
 I know of no very material objection against the enter- 
 tainments of music called concerts, if they be not pursued 
 to the loss of too much time or money. Those called 
 oratorios, being a kind of dramas taken from Scripture, 
 
 • Among various other the immortal honours of our present most excellent 
 Sovereign, George III. may this page hand clown to posterity, that he has set his 
 royal authority and example in full opposition to the vices here remarked on, 
 viz. Masquerading, Gaming, and criminal Gallantry. And to the indelible 
 disgrace of the present age, be it remembered, that, in consequence of the dis^ 
 content of a set of disappointed grandees, the merit of so amiable a prince has 
 not been esteemed as, from the known generosity of the people of Britain* 
 might have been expected. 
 
 £ S 
 
222 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 are, I think, exceptionable, as they tend to degrade thos* 
 awful subjects, and to turn into diversion what is more 
 proper for devotion. 
 
 Promiscuous dancing at public balls, is a diversion no 
 way proper for young people, as it gives an opportunity 
 for the artful and designing of either sex to lay snares for 
 one another, which sometimes prove fatal. At the same- 
 time, country-dancing in private, where the whole com- 
 pany are known to one another, where the parents or other 
 judicious persons preside, where decency is kept up, and 
 moderation used,, must, I think, be owned to be both an 
 agreeable amusement, and a wholesome exercise. 
 
 Hunting, the favourite diversion of the country-gentry, 
 is, without doubt, the very best that can be used, for the 
 preservation of health, exclusive of the danger of broken 
 bones. But, as a gentleman ought in all reason to be pos- 
 sessed of other endowments and accomplishments, besides 
 that of a healthy constitution, one would think, a few- 
 other employments should have place ; such as reading, 
 overlooking their business, improving their estates; serving 
 their friends, and country, and preparing themselves for 
 another world ; for surely that cannot be said to be the ex- 
 istence of a thinking, social, immortal creature, which is 
 divided between hunting, drinking, and sleeping. 
 
 The distress many people seem to be in for somewhat 
 to pass the time, might have been prevented by their study- 
 ing in the earlier part of life to acquire a little taste for 
 reading and contemplation. Whoever can find an agree- 
 able companion in a book, a tree, or a flower, can never be 
 at a loss how to pass his leisure hours, though he should 
 not be in the way of the card- table, the tavern, or the play. 
 And it is well worth while to acquire a little taste for men- 
 tal amusements in one's early years (the only time of life 
 in which it is to be acquired) for when all is said, it is but 
 a miserable case for a man to have in himself no entertain- 
 ment for himself; but to be obliged to be beholden to 
 others for all his pleasure in life. 
 
 Our situation in the present state is such, that every 
 thing makes a part of our discipline; and we are in danger, 
 without proper care, and attention, of deviating into error 
 in so seemingly trivial a particular as that of dress. Too 
 much time, or too great cxpence bestowed on dress, that 
 
OF VIRTUE. 325 
 
 *is more than might do the business decently, becomes 
 criminal. For that is wasting upon an aflair of very little 
 consequence, what is of great value, and might be much 
 better applied. Levity, or wantonness appearing in dress, 
 is also unjustifiable, as tending to produce bad effects on 
 ourselves and others. 
 
 To conclude, the proper conduct of the passions and ap- 
 petites consists briefly, in following nature in the indul- 
 gence of them ; in taking care, above all things, not to 
 suffer them to get such a hold of the mind, as to enslave it, 
 that is, to engage so much of its attention as may disqual- 
 ify it for worthier pursuits, make it unhappy, by continu- 
 ally hankering after the gratification of one low desire or 
 other, and lead it to place its whole satisfaction in such 
 gratifications. The due conduct of the passions and ap- 
 petites supposes reason to bear rule in the mind, and the 
 inferior powers to be in subjection. Whoever keeps his 
 mind constantly in such a condition, is at all times in a 
 capacity for acting a part suitable to the Dignity of Hu- 
 man Nature, and performing his duty to his fellow-crea- 
 tyres, and to his Creator. 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 Of our Obligations with Respect to our Fellow-creatures. 
 
 THE foundation upon which the whole of our duty to 
 our fellow-creatures must rest, is benevolence. And the 
 measure of our love to the rest of mankind, is, its being- 
 equal to that which we have for ourselves. The reason 
 whv it is made our duty to love our neighbours as our- 
 selves, is, That being proper, there should be such an or- 
 der of being, as man, created, it was impossible for Di- 
 vine Wisdom to propose the production of such a species, 
 without intending them to be united together as a society ; 
 and that mutual love and agreement are essentially neces- 
 sary to the very idea of a society. As it is impossible to 
 conceive a material system, in which repulsion should uni- 
 versally prevail, and attraction have no place, but every 
 particle of matter should repel every other, so it is con- 
 ceivable that a society should subsist in which every indi- 
 vidual should hate every other, 
 
324 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 Our self-love is very wisely made the measure of oiu 
 love to our fellow-creatures, because every individual ought 
 to consider himself as only one among many, and no way 
 of greater consequence than his neighbour, before the 
 universal Governor, than as he may be more virtuous than 
 he. And as human penetration does not reach so far as to 
 judge of internal characters, we cannot upon any rational 
 pretence pronounce ourselves preferable to others^ nor con- 
 sequently ought to love our fellow-creatures at all less than 
 ourselves. It is true, that the order of human affairs is such, 
 as to direct every man to apply himself to the conducting 
 of his own concerns, and consulting his own interest ; be- 
 cause every man knows best, and is therefore the fittest, 
 to undertake the management of his own concerns, tem- 
 poral and spiritual. By which means every man's con- 
 cerns are likely to be managed to the best purpose. But 
 it does not follow from thence, that any man ought in his 
 own mind to prefer himself to another, or to love himself 
 more than his neighbour. 
 
 Whoever loves his neighbour as himself, will show his 
 affection by consulting his interest in all things which may 
 concern either his body, his soul, his fortune, or reputa- 
 tion : For every man, who rationally loves himself, will 
 study his own interest with respect to these four great con- 
 cerns. 
 
 ^ To consult our neighbour's interest, is, to do him no 
 injury : to prevent, as much as in us lies, any other per- 
 son from injuring him; to do him justice in every respect, 
 and, beyond justice, to show him all the kindness in our 
 power. 
 
 To be negatively good, if we proceed no farther, is de- 
 serving no more praise than a stock or a stone. And those 
 selfish and narrow-hearted people, whose whole praise is, 
 that they do no harm, are not to be reckoned upon as mem- 
 bers of society, but are mere cyphers in the creation. 
 Such sordid dispositions as will admit no thought of any 
 thing but self, can never be fit for any place in that more 
 extensive future society, which will be composed wholly of 
 beings ennobled and perfected by virtue and universal ben- 
 evolence: For in that higher state, every individual will 
 be connected with the whole, and the whole with every 
 dividual; so that there wijl be no detached or separate 
 
OF VIRTUE. 32S 
 
 beings. This shows the necessity of our being habitua- 
 ted to consider ourselves as parts of the whole, and of en- 
 larging our minds by an extensive benevolence. This also 
 shows the strange absurdity of making retirement from so- 
 ciety, in the active time of life, a part of religion ; as by 
 that* unnatural and monstrous practice one third part of our 
 duty is wholly cut off, and the human mind, which ought 
 by all possible methods to be drawn and engaged to soci- 
 ety, is detached and separated from it, and habituated to 
 think with horror of the very state for which it was formtd. 
 Affection to our neighbour will prevent our injuring 
 him, and incline us to do him the utmost justice, first, as 
 to his fortune or possessions. I begin with this, as that part 
 of our neighbour's concerns, which is of the least conse- 
 quence ; intending to proceed afterwards to those which 
 touch more nearly. Now the foundation of property is in 
 reason or rectitude ; that is to say, That a person may in 
 such a manner come to be possessed of a portion of the 
 good things of life, that he may have an exclusive right 
 to it against all mankind ; so that for any other to deprive 
 him of such possession against his consent, would be ini- 
 quitous. As the infinite Author of all things has an un- 
 questionable title to all creatures and things in the universe, 
 it is evident, that he may, in the course of his providence 
 give to any man the possession of any of the good things 
 of life; and what he gives cannot without injustice be, by 
 any private person, forcibly or clandestinely taken away. 
 At the same time, the general consent of society, or the 
 law of the country in which a person lives, may for wise 
 and generally beneficial purposes, render property other- 
 wise rightful, not tenable, and may make all things com- 
 mon, except where the Divine law Has absolutely prohib- 
 ited alienation, as in matrimony. In a country where ex- 
 clusive property is established and supported by law or mu- 
 tual agreement, a right to valuable possesions may come 
 first by birth. It is plainly agreeable to reason, that a pa- 
 rent provide for his own offspring, preferably to strangers. 
 The natural affection of even the inferior creatures for their 
 young, leads to this. By the same rule, all successions 
 among persons related by marriage or blood, are equitably 
 and legally established; and it becomes injustice to deprive 
 any one of property so acquired. The fruits of a person's 
 
326 OF VIRTUE: 
 
 ingenuity, or labour, arc also lawful property. Purchase 
 is the giving what one had a right to, for something 
 which belonged to another, and therefore purchase gives 
 a just right. Free gift, from one who has power to give, 
 makes a just title. In things which have been claimed 
 bv no one, the first possession gives a title, as in the case 
 of uninhabited countries. To seize a country by force of 
 arms, to the prejudice of the original inhabitants, is a fla- 
 grant injustice. For as the first entrance into an uninhab- 
 ited country , being by the direction of Providence, gives 
 the first discoverers a title to it, it is evident, that no 
 person can, without violating the laws of justice, disturb 
 the first possessors in their property, or pretend to a 
 settlement in that country, but by agreement with the first 
 possessors. 
 
 I do not think it necessary to my purpose to determine, 
 with the utmost exactness, the boundaries of property, or 
 how far one person may lawfully encroach upon another's 
 right. Whoever sincerely loves his neighbour with the 
 same measure of affection as himself, will be as tender of 
 his property as he would wish others to be of his own ; and 
 whoever resoives to regulate his conduct according to rec- 
 titude, will be more delicately fearful of breaking in upon 
 another's right, than of loosing part of his own ; and with 
 the utmost reason : For in violating his neighbour's right, 
 he becomes guilty before God; whereas in loosing his 
 own, the worst consequence is, his being deprived of what 
 is of no great value in itself, and which he must soon leave 
 behind him. 
 
 Whatever practices tend to the violation of any person's 
 just property, they are ali contrary to the affection we 
 ought to entertain for our neighbour, and to strict recti- 
 tude. Whether such practices are openly violent, or 
 more indirect and concealed, the consequences being the 
 same, the vice is the same; unless where increased or 
 diminished by circumstances of greater or less aggrava- 
 tion. Thus, receiving or concealing the property of ano- 
 ther, whether stolen, robbed, or found, if the proprietor 
 is known, or assisting or countenancing another in such 
 practices is the same injury to our neighbour as direct theft. 
 
 The most extensive and ruinous violation of property, 
 is that wllioh is committed t>y those scourges and curses 
 
OF VIRTUE. 327 
 
 of this lower world, Tyrants. When one of those furies, 
 the disgrace and horror of the human species, breaks loose 
 upon mankind; a whole kingdom is robbed, a quarter of the 
 world is plundered. And in that day, when all differences 
 of rank will be at an end, dreadful in that da)- will be 
 the charge against those who, being by Divine Providence 
 raised for the general happiness of mankind, have used 
 their power only to spread extensive misery and distress 
 among God's creatures. 
 
 Whoever is by the Divine Providence raised to a station 
 of power and influence, and takes the advantage of his 
 power to oppress his inferiors, shows himself not only 
 unjust, but cowardly ; For true greatness of mind scorns 
 any unfair advantage. And if it be unjust to appropriate 
 to one's self what belongs to another, however able he may 
 be to bear the loss, much more cruel and base is it for the 
 rich to avail themselves of their power to the distressing 
 of their poor tenants or dependants. What will add but 
 a small matter to the already over grown wealth and super- 
 fluous state of the powerful landlord, wrung from the 
 poor industrious farmer, reduces him, and his numerous 
 family, to the extremity of distress. And that heart must 
 have little feeling, that would not spare a superfluous dish, 
 or a needless bottle, rather than a family of half a dozen 
 fellow- creatures should want bread. 
 
 I know of no oppression in this happy country, of such 
 great and extensive bad consequences, as that occasioned 
 by the abuse of law : the grievance of which is so much 
 more calamitous, as the very intention of the law is the 
 redress of grievances. It is notorious, that it is in the 
 power of any rascally pettifogger to keep a whole town in 
 fear, and to ruin as many as he pleases of the poor and indus- 
 trious part of the inhabitants, who are, without doubt, col- 
 lectively considered, the most valuable part of the people : 
 And the judge upon the bench must sit and see such 
 wicked practices, without having it in his power to give 
 any relief to an unhappy subject, who is stripped, and his 
 family beggared, to satisfy a voracious blood-sucker : and 
 all under pretence of equity. One single regulation 
 would at once put a stop to this whole complaint, viz. A 
 law, by which in all cases of prosecution about private 
 concerns, if one of the parties choose to submit the cause 
 
328 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 to arbitration, the other should be obliged to stand the 
 award. The most judicious and prudent set of men in 
 the nation, I mean the merchants, find this the most ami- 
 cable, equitable, and frugal manner of deciding disputes 
 about property, and generally use it. And it were to be 
 wished that it were universal ; which is to be hoped the 
 abominable iniquity of the law will at last bring about. 
 
 The ancient maxim, that the rigour of the law is the 
 height of injustice, is undoubtedly true. And whoever 
 is ready to take all advantages of his neighbour, which the 
 law, strained to its utmost strictness will give him, shows 
 himself (so far from loving his neighbour as himself) to 
 be of a disposition to plunder his neighbour for his own 
 advantage in the utmost iniquitous manner, if he could 
 but at the same time keep himself safe; and that it is not 
 the love of justice and of his neighbour, but fear of pun- 
 ishment, that restrains him from the most notorious viola- 
 tion of property by theft or robbery. 
 
 If by borrowing money, or buying goods upon credit, 
 knowing one's self to be in no condition to pay, while 
 the person he deals with believes him fit to be trusted, if 
 by such means as these one may as much injure his neigh- 
 bour's estate, as by open violence or theft, it is evident 
 that all such proceedings are highly unjust. Every man 
 has a right to know the truth in all cases which concern 
 himself: And whoever conceals from his neighbour a 
 truth, which, if he had known, he would have acted an- 
 other part than he did, is the cause of all the loss he may 
 hiiffer by such transaction. Yet nothing is more common 
 than for traders to borrow large sums a very few days 
 before their becoming insolvent. In which, besides the 
 injustice, the abuse of friendship and confidence greatly 
 aggravates the iniquity. 
 
 It is lamentable to observe how little regard is too gene- 
 rally paid to such promises as people think themselves 
 not legally liable to be compelled to the performance 
 of. Breaking promises is violating sacred truth. And 
 withholding from a person what one has absolutely prom- 
 ised him, supposing it still in his power to perform his 
 promise, is depriving him of what he has a right to claim : 
 which is in effect a violation of property. Especially in 
 the case of a dependence upon a promise given, by which 
 
OF VIRTUE. 329 
 
 the expectant is disappointed, and greatly injured. This 
 is direct injustice, falsehood, and cruelty. Nor does the 
 consideration of an unexpected expense, which the ful- 
 filling of the promise may occasion, bring any excuse for 
 violating it. All that was to have been considered before- 
 hand, and accounted upon, before you gave your promise. 
 At the same time a generous man will quit his right to 
 what has been promised him, when he finds, that theprom- 
 iser cannot, without considerable detriment, fulfil his en- 
 gagement. 
 
 To withhold a just debt, though the creditor should not 
 have it in his power to recover it by law ; is equally unjust, 
 as in the case of its being recoverable. The intention of 
 the law of bankruptcy is to give unfortunate debtors an 
 opportunity of doing justice to their creditors. Therefore 
 he, who takes the advantage of his being cleared by the 
 statute of bankruptcy, and refuses to make complete pay- 
 ment of his whole debts, when it comes afterwards to be 
 in his power, is guilty of the same sort of injustice as the 
 thief. And to take advantage of sanctuaries, or privileg- 
 ed places ; or of the laws in favour of members of either 
 houses of parliament, to screen one's self, or others ; or 
 by any other means to evade, or assist others in evading, 
 the payment, of just debts, where it is in the debtor's pow- 
 er to make payment, is the very same species of iniquity as 
 theft, with the aggravation of the abuse of law, and the 
 baseness of taking an advantage of the weaker. 
 
 Nor is the absolute refusal of a just debt, only injustice ; 
 but even the delay of payment beyond a reasonable time, 
 if at all in one's power to make payment, is injurious and 
 iniquitous. And all the prejudice suffered by the cred- 
 itor, by loss of interest of money, or by inconveniences in 
 his affairs, through want of what he has a just title to, is 
 justly to be laid to the charge of the debtor. 
 
 All breach of trust, whether through careless neglect 
 or voluntary embezzling of what is committed to one's 
 care, in the capacity of an executor of the will of the dead, of 
 an assignee, steward, factor, deputy; all proceedings of this 
 kind, which are different from the conduct one would 
 pursue in the management of his own concerns, or might 
 in reason expect another to do for him, are deviations from 
 rectitude, and the great rule of loving our neighbour with 
 the same measure of affection as ourselves, 
 
 2 T 
 
330 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 In commerce and traffic, all advantages taken by dealers, 
 against one another, beyond what the one, it he were in 
 the other's place would think just and reasonable, are 
 iniquitous. Of this kind are all deceits in goods, as put- 
 ting them off for somewhat better than they are, whether 
 that be done by concealing their real faults, or by giving 
 them counterfeit advantages. Over-rating of commod- 
 ities ; that is, selling them at such a price, as will yield 
 an exorbitant profit to the seller, to the prejudice of the 
 buyer, which shows in a very bad light all monopolies, 
 especially of such articles of commerce as are necessary 
 in trade, or in life. All advantages taken by traders pos- 
 sessed of large capitals, to the hurt of persons in narrower 
 circumstances. All advantages taken by the knowing, 
 against the ignorant. Advantages taken by the buyer 
 against the seller, whether of his ignorance or necessity. 
 And those most flagrant iniquities of false weights, meas- 
 ures, or coins ; with whatever else in general, may be the 
 means of transferring to one person the property of another 
 in any manner, which he who is the gainer would think 
 an injustice and hardship, if he were in the case of the 
 loser ; all such arts of commerce are iniquitous and unjus- 
 tifiable. 
 
 Reader, if thou art wise, thou wilt stop here, and exam- 
 ine thy heart, and thy life. If thou hast ever desired, or 
 effected, the prejudice of thy neighbour in his property, 
 whether by means of power or craft, as thou lovest thy 
 soul, do not delay one day to repent, and reform thy fault, 
 and to make ample restitution to the injured person, to 
 his heirs, or if these cannot be found, to the poor. If 
 thou goest down to the grave loaded with the spoils of 
 injustice, they will sink thy soul to- the bottomless pit. 
 For the Judge of the world is of infinite purity and jus- 
 tice; and will show no mercy to the impenitent offender 
 against unchangeable and eternal rectitude. 
 
 Men being drawn to make encroachments upon the 
 property of others,through avarice; it is evidently the duty 
 of every man to look into his own heart ; and find out 
 whether the love of riches takes up too much room in it. 
 And if he finds, what I doubt most men will find, that he 
 loves riches better than he does his neighbour, that he 
 has a greater desire to gain wealth than to be of service to 
 
OF VIRTUE. 331 
 
 his fellow- creatures, it is his undoubted duty to conquer 
 the sordid passion, and strengthen the generous one. To 
 this purpose it will be his wisdom to set himself in earnest 
 to deep consideration on the evil of avarice, and the excel- 
 lence of justice ; to earnest prayer to heaven for assistance 
 in the conquest of this vicious disposition ; and to avoid 
 extravagance and profusion, which are often the cause of 
 the most rapacious and insatiable avarice. 
 
 Every man has a right to be thought and spoken of ac- 
 cording to his real character. Consequently, whoever, by 
 any means, direct or indirect, is the occasion of his neigh- 
 bour's being worse thought, or spoken of than he deserves, 
 is guilt\ T of injuring his neighbour; and all injurious treat- 
 ment of a fellow-creature is contrary to rectitude, and in- 
 consistent with the love we ought to have for our neigh- 
 bour, which ought to be equal to that with which one loves 
 himself. 
 
 The most atrocious injury against our neighbour's rep- 
 utation is, false witness before a judge. The laws of sev- 
 eral nations have condemned the guilty of this crime to 
 suffer the same punishment, to which the law exposed the 
 person sworn against. But I know no punishment too 
 severe for a crime of so black a nature, and which draws 
 along with it such horrid consequences. To take the eter- 
 nal God of truth to witness to a known falsehood ; to defeat 
 the very intention of an oath, which is often the only pos- 
 sible means for the discovery of truth ; to render all human 
 testimony suspicious; to stop the course of justice, and open 
 a door to all manner of iniquity and violence ; to blast the 
 character of an innocent person in the most public manner, 
 and in the manner the most effectual for ruining it, as being 
 the most likely to gain belief to his prejudice ; to violate 
 his property, perhaps to reduce himself and his family to 
 beggary ; or to be the cause of passing upon him a sentence 
 of death for what he never was capable of committing ; to 
 take a false oath against a person before a court is to be 
 guilty of such black and complicated crimes as these : And 
 for this our law inflicts a punishment, which a little money 
 given the constable, makes almost no punishment ! 
 
 To spread a false report against any person, is contrary 
 to the love we oughtto have for our neighbour, and to jus- 
 tice, whether it be known to be such, or invented for the 
 
332 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 purpose by the publisher, or whether it be a mere surmise 
 or suspicion. To invent a lie, or propagate a known 
 falsehood, to the prejudice of any person's character, is 
 taking up the office of Satan himself who is styled in 
 Scripture the Accuser. But, that even insinuations, and 
 whispers, or nods and shrugs, by which an innocent char- 
 acter mav be blasted or ruined, are wicked and cruel, 
 every man's conscience will tell him, if he will put it to 
 himself, how he should like to be so used, or reflect upon 
 the uneasiness it gave him, if ever he suffered in the same- 
 manner. 
 
 If by sneering and ridicule, upon an innocent infirmity 
 a person may be laughed out of the respect and esteem, 
 which every worthy character deserves, it is evident, that 
 such wantonly mischievous mirth is highly unjustifiable. 
 
 The cruelty of all practices, which tend to lessen the 
 reputation of an innocent person, appears plainly from the 
 value of reputation ; which is always dear to great and wor- 
 thy minds; and the loss of which is in some cases pecu- 
 liarly fatal. The characters of a clergyman, a governor 
 of youth, a trader, or a virgin, are more delicate than 
 those of other persons. And whoever is capable of wan- 
 tonly attacking such characters, must be wholly void of 
 sentiment for his fellow- creatures. 
 
 There is a peculiarity in the vice we are now treating of, 
 which renders this more atrocious, than that of invading 
 our neighbour's property. It is, that often the injured 
 person is robbed of what is to him of inestimable worth, 
 and the cruel spoiler not enriched by the rapine. For the 
 defamer commonly reaps neither profit, honour, nor pleas- 
 ure, unless the indulgence of malice can be called a pleas- 
 ure, — which, if it is, Satan must be a very happy being. 
 
 The defamer is as much more infamous than the open 
 railer, as the dark assassin is more to be dreaded than the 
 fair challenger. And the defamer and assassin resemble 
 one another, in that the wounds which both give, prove 
 often incurable. 
 
 Reader, if thou makest it thy practice to divert thyself 
 with mischief, or to strive to build thyself an ill-founded 
 reputation upon the ruins of thy neighbour's, or thinkest, 
 by undermining him, to get thyself into the advantages 
 lie now enjoys ; remember I have told thee there will be 
 
OF VIRTUE. 333 
 
 no triumph hereafter, when thou comest to be judged for 
 thy idle words. The ill-gotten advantages, thou mayest reap 
 from thy base treachery to thy brother, if thou shouldest 
 be successful, which is seldom the case, will bring a curse 
 alon^ with them, a canker-worm, that will destroy both 
 them and thee. And take notice, no malicious, envious, 
 or cruel disposition will find any admittance into the seats 
 of future bliss. If thou thinkest to be hereafter a compan- 
 ion of angels and spirits of good men, resolve in time to 
 form thy mind to universal benevolence. Learn to consider 
 even the abandoned offender as still a human creature, the 
 production of the same goodness which made thyself; as 
 not yet out of the reach of the Divine Grace, and there- 
 forenot to be given up as absolutely irrecoverable, and if 
 recoverable, again a fit object for thy love ; for thy Maker's 
 love. Do not therefore dare in thy mind to hate or despise, 
 nor in thy conversation to reflect, but with pity and human- 
 ity, upon even the real vices of thy fellow-creature, much 
 less to blacken his unspotted reputation. The day will 
 come, when thou shalt stand before the same judgment 
 seat with him. He is not thy creature, but God's. Leave 
 him to God. Is a fellow-creature guilty of a fault? So 
 art thou. It is no part of thy duty to inquire into his 
 faults, or to lay them open to others, unless to prevent 
 the mischief thou knowest he is preparing to do another. 
 If thou art not sure of a superior good to be gained by dis- 
 covering thy neighbour's faults, why shouldest thou take 
 upon thee the character of an informer? If thy neighbour 
 is really guilty, why shouldest thou be ambitious of the 
 office of an executioner, or delight in lashing offenders? 
 If thou hast been so wicked as basely to stab the reputa- 
 tion of thy innocent fellow-creature, I charge thee, as thou 
 lovest thy soul, that thou endeavour to heal up the wound 
 thou hast made. — Take care, that every single person, be 
 the number ever so great, whose ear thou hast abused, be 
 set right with respect to the character of the innocent. If 
 those, whose minds thou hast poisoned, have communi- 
 cated the venom to others, be sure to trace the wicked lie, 
 the spawn of thy own foul tongue, through all its doub- 
 lings, and destroy it, that it may spread its deadly influ- 
 ence no farther. "Take shame to thyself, and do j ustice to 
 
334 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 innocence. Thou hadst better suffer shame now, than 
 hereafter before God, angels, and men. 
 
 It is plainly contrary to the benevolent affection we 
 ought to have for our fellow-creature, to put him to any 
 pain or distress of body, as by beating, wounding, or 
 maiming, unless in self-defence, when unjustly attaeked ; 
 in lawful war ; or in case of his having deserved corporal 
 correction, and if we are authorised by a just law to in- 
 flict, or cause it to be inflicted upon him. 
 
 If it be contrary to the affection we ought to have for 
 our neighbour, to put him to bodily pain needlessly, or 
 unjustly, it is much more so, to deprive him of life, un- 
 less he has forfeited it according to law. 
 
 This injury is so much the more atrocious, as it is 
 irreparable. And it seems to me very much to be doubt- 
 ed, whether human authority ought in reason to be ex- 
 tended to the pardon of the murder of the innocent. 
 Scripture is express, " that he who sheds man's blood, 
 by man shall his blood be shed." 
 
 There seems to be in this crime somewhat peculiarly 
 offensive to Heaven, in that the Divine Providence does 
 so often, by most striking and wonderful interpositions, 
 bring the authors of it to light in a manner different from 
 what happens in other cases. For, of the numbers, who 
 lose their lives by violence, it is remarkable, that there are 
 few instances of the murderer's escaping. That in so 
 great and wicked a city as London, for example, there 
 should not every year be many people missing, being made 
 away with secretly, and the authors of their death never 
 found, is very remarkable. We find that often the sagac- 
 ity of dogs, and other animals, and even inanimate things, 
 have been the occasion of bringing this foul crime to light. 
 But the most common means of the discovery of bloody 
 deeds has been conscience, which acting the part of a 
 torturer, has forced the tongue, through extremity of an- 
 guish, to disclose the secret, which no other but itself 
 could bring to light. 
 
 It being by pride and passion, that men are incited to 
 break loose upon one another in acts of violence, it is plain 
 that the best method of preventing our falling into them 
 is, by subduing those fatal passions, which transport us 
 beyond the power and use of reason. And if nothing 
 
OF VIRTUE. 335 
 
 tends more to enflame every passion, than the use of strong 
 liquors, how cautious ought we to be of indulging the 
 maddening draught, which may drive us upon extrava- 
 gances, we could not in our cooler hours believe ourselves 
 capable of? Cruelty, even to the brute creation, is alto- 
 gether unj ustifiable, much more to our fellow-creatures. 
 Nor can any thinking person believe it possible, that a 
 mind disposed to barbarity, or insensible of the miseries 
 of our fellow- beings, can be at all fit for a future state, in 
 which goodness is to prevail. 
 
 A wise man will dread the beginning of quarrels. For 
 no one knows where a quarrel, once begun, may end. 
 None of us knows how much of the evil spirit is either in 
 himself or in his adversary. And he, who begins, is in 
 conscience answerable for all the consequences. Nor 
 was there ever a falling out without folly, at least on one 
 side, if not on both. Were one sure the worst that was to 
 happen would be the ruffling of his own or his neighbour's 
 temper, or the discomposing of their spirits, even that can- 
 not be without guilt. And is an empire of consequence 
 enough to make any thinking man offend God, and endan- 
 ger his or his neighbour's soul ? Tremble, reader, at the 
 thought of being suddenly snatched away, (as nothing is 
 more common than sudden death) and sent into the world 
 of spirits, hot from a contest with a fellow-ci "ature, and 
 fellow-christian. 
 
 Hurting our neighbour's health by tempting him to be 
 guilty of intemperance, is as really contrary to that affec- 
 tion we ought to have for him, as wounding, or poisoning 
 him. It is no more an alleviation of the guilt of seducing 
 him into debauchery, that it may not cut him off in less 
 than several years, (which is likewise more than can be 
 certainly affirmed) than it is less murder to poison in the 
 Italian manner, than with a dose of arsenic. But to lead 
 a fellow- creature into a course of debauchery is, as above 
 observed, poisoning both soul and body at once. 
 
 To grieve, afflict, or terrify a fellow-creature needlessly, 
 or unjustly, is injuring him as to his soul. And the an- 
 guish of the mind being more severely felt than bodily pain 
 the inflicting the former upon an innocent person is a 
 greater act of cruelty. It is therefore shocking to think 
 how one half of mankind sport with the anguish of the 
 
336 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 other. How little they make the case of their fellow- crea- 
 tures their own, or consider what they must suffer from 
 their wicked aspersions, misrepresentations, and oppres- 
 sive and injurious treatment ; which bring a pain propor- 
 tioned to the sensibility of the sufferer. And every one 
 knows, that the delicacy of some minds renders them as 
 different from others, as the temper of the lamb is meeker 
 than that of the tiger. 
 
 But the most direct injury against the spiritual part of 
 our fellow-creature is, leading him into vice; whether that 
 be done by means of solicitation ; by artfully imposing on 
 his judgment ; by powerful compulsion ; or by prevailing 
 example. 
 
 Some tempers are so impotently ductile, that they can 
 refuse nothing to repeated solicitation. Whoever takes 
 the advantage of such persons, is guilty of the lowest base- 
 ness. Yet nothing is more common, than for the de- 
 bauched part of our sex to show their heroism by a poor 
 triumph over weak, easy, thoughtless woman ! nothing- 
 more frequent, than to hear them boast of the ruin of that 
 virtue, of which it ought to be their pride to be the defen- 
 ders. " Poor fool ! she loved me, and therefore could 
 refuse me nothing." Base coward ! Dost thou boast thy 
 conquest over one, who, by thy own confession, was dis- 
 abled for resistance, disabled by her affection for thy worth- 
 less self? Does affection deserve such a return ? Is supe- 
 rior understanding, or rather deeper craft, to be used against 
 thoughtless simplicity ; and its shameful success to be 
 boasted of? Dost thou pride thyself, that thou hast had art 
 enough to decoy the harmless lamb to thy hand, that thou 
 mightest shed its blood. 
 
 To call good evil, and evil good, is in scripture stigma- 
 tized with a curse. And to put out the bodily eyes is not 
 so great an injury, as to mislead, or extinguish the under- 
 standing, and impose upon the judgment in matters of right 
 and wrong. Whoever is guilty of this inhuman and dia- 
 bolical wickedness, may in reason expect to have the soul 
 he has been the ruin of, required hereafter at his hands. 
 
 I am very suspicious, that many persons in eminent 
 stations have very little notion of their being highly crim- 
 inal in the sight of Gud, in setting a bad example before 
 the rest of mankind. No person, who thinks at all, can 
 
OF VIRTUE. 33? 
 
 doubt, whether it is justifiable to advise, or force others to 
 be guilty of vice. But if there is a way incomparably 
 more effectual and alluring, by which people are more pow- 
 erfully drawn into wickedness ; surely that is more mis- 
 chievous and hurtful, and ought most carefully to be 
 avoided. 
 
 Of all tyranny, none is so inhuman, as where men use 
 their power over others, to force them into wickedness. 
 The bloody persecutor, who uses threats and punishments, 
 prisons, racks, and fires, to compel the unhappy sufferer 
 to make shipwreck of faith, and give up truth and a good 
 conscience ; the corrupt minister, or candidate, who bul- 
 lies the unhappy dependant into the perjured vote ; these, 
 and such like, are in the way toward being qualified for be- 
 coming furies and fiends in the lower regions. For who 
 is so fit for the place of a tormentor, to stand among evil 
 spirits, and plunge the emerging souls deeper in hell- 
 flames, than he, who, on earth, made it his infernal em- 
 ployment, to thrust his fellow-creatures into those ways, 
 which lead down to the chambers oi destruction ? 
 
 Reader, if thou hast ever been the cause of a fellow- 
 creature's guilt ; if thou hast by force or art, betrayed a 
 wretched soul into vice, and acted the part of an agent of 
 Satan ; I charge thee On thy soul, put not off thy repent- 
 ance for an hour. Prevent, if possible, the final ruin thy 
 cursed arts tend to bring upon a human creature. En- 
 deavour to open the eyes, which thou hast closed ; to 
 enlighten the understanding thou hast blinded ; and to 
 lead again into the right way, the feet thou hast taught to 
 wander from it. If thou wilt go to destruction, why 
 shouldest thou drag others with thee ? If thy ambition 
 prompts thee to ruin thy own soul, spare that of thy poor 
 fellow-creature, who has no concern with thy schemes. 
 Must thy brother have a place in the infernal regions, to 
 get thee a place at .court ? Take back the damning bribe ; 
 prevent the perjured vote : think how 1 thou wilt bear the 
 eternal howlings of a spirit, by thy temptations sunk to 
 irrecoverable perdition. 
 
 Besides the general duty of benevolence to all who par- 
 take of the same common nature which is indispensably 
 necessary in the nature of things toward the Very being 
 of society, in the present state, and for fitting us for en- 
 
 3U 
 
338 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 tering into a more extensive society hereafter ; besides 
 the general benevolence we owe to all our fellow- creatures 
 it is evident, that we owe particular duties to particular 
 persons, according to the relations and connexions we 
 have with them. This propriety is founded in the nature 
 of things,* and is self-evident. It is as plain, that rever- 
 ence to superiors, for example, is proper, as that all the 
 angles of a plain triangle are equal to two right ones. It 
 is as evident, that the contempt of one really superior to us, 
 vroulcl be wrong, as that it would be wrong to say that 
 twice two are equal to fifty. 
 
 The first, and most important of all relative social du- 
 ties, is that which we owe to our country. That we ought 
 to study the interest of our country, is plain from consid- 
 ering, that the love of our families, and even self-love, 
 cannot be pursued, or established, on any rational footing, 
 but what will extend to that of our country (for it is im- 
 possible for all families and individuals to be happy in a 
 ruined country) and from considering, that, if no person 
 loved his country, but every individual was indifferent 
 about its interest, no country could subsist ; but the 
 world must quickly come to an end. 
 
 The virtue of patriotism is most indispensable in per- 
 sons in high stations, whose rank gives them an opportu- 
 nity of being of important service to the public interest. 
 These ought to consider themselves as general protectors 
 and fathers, to whose care the rest of mankind are by Di- 
 vine Providence committed ; and ought to tremble at the 
 thought of betraying so awful a trust. And the interest 
 of a country consists briefly in its being properly secured 
 against enemies ; in its being governed by good laws, duly 
 executed ; in its being secured in its liberties, civil and 
 religious, the boundaries of which last cannot be too am- 
 ple, though the former may easily be extended to licen- 
 tiousness, as is at present most flagrantly the case in £?!g- 
 land ; in its lacing kept under such a police, and such 
 regulations, as may tend to promote health, virtue, public 
 and private, and real religion ; in a due encouragement of 
 commerce, agriculture, manufactures, learning- and arts. 
 Whatever a nation can be the better for the encouragement 
 of, or the worse if discouraged, is the province of gover- 
 
 • See the first Section of this lliird book. 
 
OF VIRTUE. 339 
 
 nors to be perfect masters of, and to see effectual means 
 used for carrying rnto execution every salutary scheme. 
 With respect to the health of a people, for example, the 
 dutv of governors is not only to take ail possible care to 
 prevent the importation of infections from foreign parts, 
 but that the people have it not in their power, by the use 
 of unwholesome provisions of any kind, to hurt their eon- 
 stitutions, to the enfeebling and enervating of the race, as 
 is most atrociously and extensively the case at present in 
 England, by means of too low-priced spirituous liquors. 
 Again, it is unquestionably the duty of governors to see 
 to it, that there be no encouragement given to idleness, 
 or debauchery ; but that, on the contrary, all vices hurt- 
 ful to society be liable to every kind of discouragement. 
 That there be something found for every creature to do, 
 who has any measure of health or strength, that all excuse 
 for idleness may be removed, and the crime of doing noth- 
 ing be severely punishable. That lewdness and prostitu- 
 tion be at least driven from appearing in public without 
 shame or restraint, to the corrupting of the youth of a na- 
 tion. That marriage, the main support of states, be in the 
 most effectual manner encouraged, and celibacy, after ma- 
 ture age (one of the worst offences against our country) 
 subjected to every inconvenience and burden. That all 
 possible encouragement be given to every person who en- 
 riches or adorns his country by any valuable discovery, 
 or noble production, in arts, or sciences, and particularly 
 to those, whose literary labours tend to the advancement 
 of public and private virtue, and religion. Whatever tends 
 to the increase of luxury and extravagance, ought to be 
 laid under severe restraints, and heavy taxes ; as in general 
 all taxes ought to fall on the luxury and superfluity of life, 
 while industry and frugality escape free. 
 
 To understand thoroughly all these particulars, and to 
 endeavour to promote and improve them, is the proper 
 calling of persons of rank and weight in a nation. And 
 whoever makes no other advantage of a high station, than 
 to plunder his country to gratify his avarice, to raise him- 
 self and his creatures to affluence, or to indulge sensual- 
 ity, is unworthy of the honourable rank he holds; is a 
 treacherous betrayer of his sacred trust ; and instead of 
 honour deserves the contempt of all men of virtue and 
 
340 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 public spirit. For the true dignity of high life consists 
 in a superior elevation of mind; more extensive improve- 
 ments in knowledge; a greater contempt of whatever is 
 unworth) ; a more enlarged benevolence to mankind ; a 
 more uncorrupted integrity: and a more sublime way of 
 thinking, speaking, and acting, than is to be seen in other 
 men. Whoever is not in these respects superior to the 
 rest of mankind, may be richer, but can with no propriety 
 of speech be said to be greater, than others. For it is not 
 the dress, the station, or the fortune, but the mind, that 
 is the man. Therefore a little mind makes a mean man ; 
 a great mind a great man. 
 
 Though it is chiefly by the great, that the interest of a 
 nation is to be consulted and supported, it is certain, that 
 every person has it in his power to serve his country less 
 or more. Whoever plants a tree, incloses a field, builds 
 a house, is the cause of a child's being brought into the 
 world, and educated for becoming a valuable member of 
 society ; whoever, in short, fills a useful place in life, serves 
 his country more than five hundred of those idle recluses, 
 and holy drones, with which popish countries swarm. 
 Especially, men of abilities, in the most private stations, 
 are capable of serving their country, if not by action yet 
 by suggesting useful hints to those, whose stations 'give 
 them an opportunity of action ; and of improving, by their 
 conversation and writings, the minds and manners of their 
 countrymen. 
 
 The true love of our country Avill show itself in our pre- 
 ferring the public to our own private interest, wherever 
 they come in competition. In a conscientious obedience 
 to the laws, though to our own particular disadvantage. In 
 a proper reverence to our governors, especially the supreme ; 
 even in cases where we do not see enough (as how should 
 persons in private stations?) to be able to explain to our- 
 selves, or others, the wisdom of all their measures. 
 
 It is with a thorough concern, I cannot help remarking 
 here, that the very contrary of all this seems to be the rule, 
 by which the people of England conduct themselves in 
 the present age. Is it not notorious, that the virtue of 
 public spirit is become little else than a subject of ridicule? 
 That venality has poisoned all ranks, from the bribed voter 
 ill a country borough, upwards to the candidate for a plac^ 
 
OF VIRTUE. 341 
 
 in the great assembly of the nation ; The enormous ex- 
 penses bestowed, and horrible perjury commuted, in car- 
 rying elections ; with the numerous controverted election 
 which are from time to time the subject of examination 
 before the house ; and the variety of regulations found ne- 
 cessary to be made for restraining bribery and corruption 
 (though the most effectual regulation, I mean, of voting 
 in all cases b}' ballot, which the wise states of antiquity 
 found necessary, has not been tried) all this shows too 
 flagrantly, to what a fatal extent this ruinous and destruc- 
 tive mischief reaches. Nor is there any hope of an effect- 
 ual cure for the evil, while such a pernicious maxim in 
 politics as the following is held, I had almost said, estab- 
 lished : That it is lawful to bribe for the good of the nation, 
 (as they very improperly speak) in order to be on even 
 terms with the enemies of the nation. The Jacobite, or 
 Tory party (say our politicians) will get themselves elected 
 into parliament by bribery; Why must not the gentlemen 
 of revolution-principles endeavour to defeat them by the 
 same means ? To expose this fatal doctrine, which is some- 
 times defended by very well-meaning men, let it be con- 
 sidered, first, that Jacobitism, or Toryism, in the south- 
 ern part of the nation, is in fact little more than another 
 word for the party who are out, and would be in. There 
 are few men of the least sense, and knowledge of the world, 
 on this side the Highlands of Scotland, who do in sober 
 earnest wish to see a papist on the British throne. Slavery, 
 civil and religious, will not go down with those who have 
 long enjoyed the sweets of liberty. And if Jacobitism 
 and Toryism be little more than a bugbear ; and the virtue 
 of a people, the only sure foundation of government and 
 national happiness, is to be corrupted and ruined by a con- 
 tention between two sets of men, either of which might 
 be as likely to pursue the interest of the nation as the other, 
 it is plain that both sides are guilty ; the pretended Whigs, 
 who are in, and the pretended Tories, who are out; it 
 being equally contrary to virtue, and to the laws of the 
 land, to bribe for one side as for another. But supposing- 
 the case to be exactly as first put, and that all, who pre- 
 tend to be disaffected, were really so in their hearts ; and 
 that their inclination, and their power, to subvert the con- 
 stitution were much greater than they are ; it is evident. 
 
342 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 that to do a positive evil, that an uncertain good may come, 
 is directly contrary both to reason and religion. For the 
 real friends of liberty to oppose the enemies of our coun- 
 try, by bribery and corruption, is directly iniquitous and 
 impious. For, to proceed in that manner is to confound 
 the immutable nature of right and wrong, to throw down 
 the sacred barriers, established by Divine authority for 
 guarding the awful laws of virtue from violation, which 
 are to be held in the utmost reverence, and on no account 
 to be broke through, if not only a kingdom should suffer 
 a revolution ; but if the solar system, or whole visible uni- 
 verse, were to go to wreck. For one act of perjury, or 
 other gross deviation from virtue, is more opposite to the 
 Divine Nature, and economy of the world, than the extinc- 
 tion of a thousand suns, with the destruction of all their 
 planets. But besides ail this, what can be more absurd, 
 than to talk of supporting a state by vice, the very means 
 which have proved the ruin of all the states that ever have 
 sunk ; and without which no state could be brought to ruin? 
 Alas, does it become such poor short-sighted creatures as 
 we are, to project schemes for ourselves, to violate the 
 eternal laws of virtue, in order, forsooth to put it in the pow- 
 er of Divine Providence to do what it could not without 
 our assistance ? Can any politician think that promoting 
 bribery or perjury are likely to gain us the Divine Protec- 
 tion? or that the kingdom can stand independent of the 
 Divine Protection? or that it can stand without virtue? 
 These are deplorable expedients. Like opiates in an acute 
 distemper they lull things into peace for a short time, while 
 the} slowly, but surely, wear out the strength and vitals 
 
 of the constitution. O virtue ! O my country! 
 
 Is it not also notorious, that the bulk of our laws, 
 through the criminal negligence, or timidity, of those, in 
 whose hands the executive power is lodged, and through 
 the licentiousness of the people, who seems to think it 
 the privilege of free-born Englishmen to break their own 
 laws, are, instead of a necessary restraint, become a mere 
 bugbear ? Above all things, the law-makers are some- 
 times lawbreakers, is a shocking accusation to be laid 
 against persons in eminent stations. That the same per- 
 sons in their legislative capacity should concur to the 
 making of regulations for the suppression of the destrue* 
 
 
OF VIRTUE. 343 
 
 tive practices of smuggling, gaming, unduly influencing 
 elections and the like, and in their private capacity should 
 be the promoters of those ruinous vices; is doing what 
 they can to turn government into a farce, and reduce a 
 nation to a state of anarchy. 
 
 Is it not monstrous, that by means of the madness and 
 insolence of party, such a degree of arrogant and seditious 
 virulence is worked up in the spirits of the people, that the 
 lowest of the mob thinks himself wise enough to take to 
 task the governors of the state, and assumes the liberty, 
 over his cups, to rail at the legislators of his country ; by 
 which means, the best constitutioned kingdom upon earth 
 seems hastening to a state of confusion; while the people's 
 reverence for lawful authority, whereby obedience sub- 
 sists, is destroyed, the measures of government are embar- 
 rassed; and our governors discouraged from attempting 
 to alter, or new-model any thing, that may be amiss ; since 
 nothing can be done without clamour and disturbance, 
 and laws, when enacted, are, through the perverseness of 
 the people, of very little efficacy. 
 
 These are not the effects of the love of our country. 
 Nor the infamous practice of smuggling, and other mean 
 arts, by which the laws for raising a revenue for defraying 
 the necessary expenses of government, are evaded. Yet 
 it is notorious, that the avowed principle of numbers of 
 persons in trade, is, That all is well got, that is got by cheat- 
 ing the king, as they absurdly talk. For defrauding the pub- 
 lic revenue, is in effect defrauding the people, who pay it, 
 and making it necessary for the government to lay additional 
 taxes, and to clog and incumber trade and industry, to 
 make up the deficiencies occasioned by the depredations 
 of a set of lawless people, the plague and ruin of fair tra- 
 ders. It is amazing, that rational creatures can contrive 
 so effectually to blind their reason, and stupify their con- 
 science, as to bring themselves to argue, that though it is 
 confessedly unjustifiable and wicked in a son to disobey 
 his parent, yet there is no harm in disobeying that author- 
 ity, which is higher than the parental, I mean, that of the 
 law of the land : that, though it is wrong to cheat or lie, 
 there is no harm in taking a false oath at the custom-house, 
 by which the guilt of prejury is incurred; the revenue, 
 
344 of virtue: 
 
 or more properly the nation, robbed ; and the fair trader 
 injured. 
 
 People may deceive themselves as they please : But 
 there is hardly any worse species of vice, than disobedi- 
 ence and insolence to supreme lawful authority. Nor 
 will any person be fit for a future state of peace, regularity, 
 and perfect obedience to the universal Governor, (v» ithout 
 which there can be no happiness) who has in this state 
 habituated himself to lawless opposition and contempt of 
 government. 
 
 To raise an opposition or rebellion in a country against 
 the supreme authority, except upon most powerful causes 
 and motives, is a crime of as horrid and complicated a kind, 
 as any to which human wickedness is capable of proceed- 
 ing. For the consequences of a general disturbance in a 
 state, are the perpetration of all kinds of iniquity. And 
 where so dreadful a consequence is foreseen, it is evident, 
 nothing less than the prevention of a total subversion of 
 rights and privileges, civil and religious, of which the last 
 is much the most important, is a sufficient plea for disturb- 
 ing the general peace. 
 
 This was confessedly the case at the revolution in 
 1688. But those men, who delight in misrepresenting a 
 government, and making it odious and vile in the eyes 
 of the people, and do all they can to thwart and embarrass 
 its measures, merely because themselves have no share 
 in the emoluments of place and power, are the pests of 
 society. 
 
 One of the greatest curses of a nation, and of liberty 
 in general, is that of our unhappy divisions and parties in 
 religion and politics. As for the first, it is a subject of 
 too serious and important a nature to be made a mere 
 badge of faction, or a bone of contention. The design of 
 religion is to improve and dignify our natures, to correct 
 our errors in judgment and to regulate our lives. And 
 whoever applies it as a tool of state, as an artifice for aggran- 
 dizing himself or his friends, and a cloak to conceal his 
 secular views, is guilty of prostituting the most sacred 
 thing in the world to the vilest uses. As for political par- 
 ties, itis notorious, that those who assume to themselves the 
 most splendid titles of being on the patriot side, or coun- 
 try-interest, and against the court, as their cant is, gener- 
 
OF VIRTUE. 345 
 
 ally make a clamour for pretended liberty, and the good of 
 their country, only to have their mouths stopped with a 
 place or a pension ; and that, on the other hand, those who 
 stand up in defence of all the measures of those in power, 
 without distinction, only do so with a view to get, or to 
 keep some emolument. As it is inconceivable that either 
 one or the other party should be constantly in the right, 
 or invariably ill the wrong, you may conclude, thai, who- 
 eve r inclines universally for or against either side, with- 
 out ever altering his opinion, is either a man of very mean 
 abilities, or has some indirect scheme in view. The trim- 
 mer, who gives his vote sometimes with one side, some- 
 times with the other, according to the view he has of the 
 consequences, is the only man of integrity. And 1 can- 
 not help advising my readers to look upon all parties, 
 and all who make either religion or politicks a part v -affair, 
 in the same light, and to keep clear of all sides alike ; 
 making it their business io consult the real good of their 
 country, and the real welfare of their souls, without any 
 eye to the sordid gains oi corruption, or any desire to fight 
 the battles of either party. 
 
 To conclude, our duty to our country comprehends all 
 the relative duties; and we are to sacrifice private interest, 
 family, and life itself to it, when called upon : and are to 
 obey its laws in all cases, where they do not clash with 
 the only superior authority in the universe, I mean the 
 Divine. 
 
 Next under the authority of national government is the 
 parental. The propriety and necessity of submission to 
 parents appears from considering, that it is evidently 
 necessary, that some person, or persons, should undertake 
 the care of children in the helpless time of life ; and that 
 none are so proper as the parents. In consequence of this, 
 it is necessary that children, before they come to the use 
 ol reason, be governed by authority, and there is none so 
 natural as that of parents ; it is therefore their part to return 
 the reciprocal duties of love, gratitude, reverence, and 
 obedience to those who have taken care of them, when no 
 one eise would undertake that office. Anel it being once 
 made the appointed course and order of things, the law of 
 filial duty is not to be broke through by the children on 
 account of a failure in the parents in discharging their 
 
 2 X 
 
MG OK VIRTUE. 
 
 duty ; _ nor, contrary wise, are parents to give up the care 
 of their children, though they should turn out untowardly. 
 Obedience to parents extends to all things that are con- 
 sistent with the laws of our country, and of God, both 
 which authorities are superior to that of parents. 
 
 The duty of parents to their children is briefly to take 
 care that proper provision be made for their bodilv inter- 
 est, by food, clothing, and education ; and more especially 
 for that of their minds, by forming them, from the earliest 
 years, to virtue and religion. 
 
 The duty of spiritual pastors to their people, is to do 
 whatever is in their power for the good of the souls com- 
 muted to their charge, by preaching, catechising, coun- 
 selling, or writing. However improper it mav be thought 
 for a layman to enlarge upon this relative dutv, it cannot 
 be improper to refer to one, from whom directions on this 
 head will come with unexceptionable authority ; I mean 
 the apostle Paul in his Epistles to Timothy. The duty 
 of people to their pastors, is to show them a great deal 
 more reverence and gratitude than is commonly done in 
 England. 
 
 The duty of instructors of youth is briefly to fill the 
 place of parents in forming those consigned "to their care 
 by the parents, to usefulness in life, and happiness here- 
 after. The duty of young persons to their governors and 
 teachers is obedience, and diligence in endeavouring to 
 improve themselves while under their care; and gratitude 
 and love to those, by whose faithful diligence they had 
 the opportunity of becoming wise and good men. And 
 the duty of gratitude to parents and teachers on this 
 account will be binding upon those who have been the 
 objects of their care, not only for life, but to eternity. 
 
 The duty of masters to servants, is to pay them accord- 
 ing to engagement ; to treat them as fellow- creatures, 
 though in an inferior station ; and to take care, that they 
 have opportunities of knowing their duty and means of 
 happiness. That of servants to masters is faithfulness, 
 diligence, and obedience in all lawful cases. 
 
 The duty of husbands to wives, is the tenderest love, 
 and warmest desire of their happiness in life, and to eter- 
 nity. ^ That of wives to husbands, besides reciprocal love, 
 takes in obedience in all lawful things. This arises from 
 
OF VIRTUE. 347 
 
 the consideration of the priority of creation, and superior 
 dignity of the male sex, to which Nature has given the 
 greater strength of mind and body, and therefore fitted 
 them for authority. But as, on one hand, it is not the part 
 of a good wife to contest the authority of her husband; so 
 neither is it of a good husband to stand up for the privi- 
 lege of his sex, while he shows little of the tenderness 
 which is due to the weaker. This is, in short, a string 
 never to be touched ; for it always introduces discord, and 
 interrupts the matrimonial harmony. 
 
 Love is the fulfilling of the whole duty mutually owing 
 by collateral relations, as brothers, sisters, and the like. 
 And such persons may easily know whether they do their 
 duty to one another, by considering how people behave to 
 those they really love. 
 
 In friendship, of which I have treated in the first book, 
 the duties are mutual love, fidelity, secrecy, and a desire of 
 promoting one another's happiness both spiritual and tem- 
 poral. Virtue is the only foundation of friendship. The 
 commerce of the wicked is rather to be called a combina- 
 tion or conspiracy against mankind, than friendship. 
 
 The duty of the rich to the poor, is feeding the hungry, 
 clothing the naked, visiting the sick, and in general sup- 
 plving the wants of the necessitous. Those to whom the 
 Divine Providence has been distinguishingly bountiful, are 
 to consider themselves as stewards of the good gifts of 
 heaven, which they are not to lavish away upon their own 
 extravagant lusts, but to distribute to their distressed 
 brethren. Nor ought they to think of this as an act of gen- 
 erosity, or almost of supererogation, as many seem, by 
 their ostentatious way of giving charity, to do. It is not 
 what they may do, or let alone. It is not to be carried to 
 what length they please, and no farther. They are ex- 
 pected to give all they can give, and then to think they 
 have done only what they ought. Since to do less, if we 
 will take our Saviour's own word for it, is a neglect which 
 will exclude from future bliss. There is indeed great 
 prudence to be used, that a judicious choice of objects 
 may be made, and that the charity given may not prove 
 a prejudice, instead of an advantage. If what is given 
 serves to support in idleness and debauchery, it had much 
 better be withheld. Care is also to be taken, that our 
 
348 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 churity be not given for fashion, ostentation, or anv other 
 view , but obedience to God, and benevolence to our fel- 
 low-creatures. In as far as any other consideration has 
 influence, in so far the real excellence of such good works 
 is lessened in the sight of Him, who searches the heart. 
 
 The duty of the poor, is gratitude to their benefactors; 
 and industry, in endeavouring as much as they can to 
 lighten the burden of their own support to those who con- 
 tribute to it. 
 
 Propriety and rectitude require, that the learned and 
 wise use their endeavours to instruct and advise the igno- 
 rant and unthinking. And in general, that every person 
 employ his peculiar talent or advantage for the most ex- 
 tensive usefulness. It is with this view that such remark- 
 able differences are made in the gifts of mind and fortune, 
 which different persons share. These are parts of their 
 respective trials; and they will be judged according to 
 the use they have made of them. 
 ^ Our duty to benefactors is evidently love and gratitude. 
 Even to enemies we owe, according to the Christian law, 
 of which afterwards, forgiveness and intercession with 
 Heaven for them ; which also we are obliged to for all our 
 fellow-creatures. 
 
 The rectitude or propriety of these several obligations 
 being self-evident, it would "be only wasting time to take 
 the pains to establish it by arguments. 
 
 The infinitely wise Governor of the universe has pfcu 
 ced us in this state, and engaged us in such a variety of 
 connexions with, and relations to one another, on purpose 
 to habituate lis to a sense of duty, and love of obedience 
 and regularity. The more duties we have to do in our 
 present state of discipline, the more occasion we have for 
 watchfulness and dilioence, and a due exertion of every 
 noble power of the mind. And the more practice we 
 have of exertiqg our powers, the stronger they must grow ; 
 and the more we practice obedience, the more tractable 
 and obedient we must naturally become ; and to be obe- 
 dient to rhe Supreme Governor of the world, is the very 
 perfection of every created nature. Again, the various 
 connexions among mankind, and the different duties re- 
 sulting from then}, naturally tend to work in us a settled 
 and extensive benevolence for our fellow- beings, aad tq 
 
OF VIRTUE. S49 
 
 habituate us to think and act with tenderness, forbearance, 
 and affection toward them. And k is evident thai this sub- 
 lime and godlike disposition cannot be too much cultiva- 
 ted. We can never be in a state, in which it will no< be 
 for our advantage, and for the advantage of all the other 
 beings with whom we may be connected, that we be dis- 
 posed to extensive and unbounded benevolence for one 
 another. It is obvious, that a happy society, in which 
 hatred and ill-will should universally prevail, is an incon- 
 ceivable and contradictory idea. Whatever may be the 
 nature of the states we may be hereafter designed for, it is 
 evident we shall be the fitter for them, for having cultiva- 
 ted in our minds an extensive universal love of all other 
 beings. But if we suppose, what seems agreeable to 
 Scripture views, as well as to reason, that those who shall 
 be found worthy of a future life, are to be raised to sta- 
 tions, not of indolence and inactivity, but of extensive 
 usefulness in the creation, such as we suppose to be filled 
 at present by angels, I mean of guardians and gover i fs 
 over beings of lower ranks, during their state of trial and 
 discipline; if this be a reasonable supposition, it is plain, 
 that the sublime virtue of benevolence cannot be carried 
 too far. And this sets forth the Divine Wisdom in 
 placing us in a state in which we have such opportuni- 
 ties of being habituated to a disposition so useful and ne- 
 cessary for all orders of rational beings throughout all pe- 
 riods of their existence. 
 
 It will be the reader's wisdom here carefully to exam- 
 ine his conduct, that he may know whether he acts the 
 part of a valuable and useful member of society. If he 
 has wrought into his soul a kind, a generous, and exten- 
 sive benevolence toward all his fellow-creatures, whether 
 in high or low stations, whether rich or poor, whether for- 
 eigners or countrymen, whether of his own religion or 
 any other, learned or unlearned, virtuous orvicious, friends 
 or enemies ; if he finds it recommendation enough to his 
 regard or affection that it is a fellow -creature who wants 
 his assistance, a being produced by the same Almighty 
 hand which created himself; if he earnestly wishes, and 
 is at all times ready to promote the good of his fellow- 
 creatures by all means in his power, by his riches, his ad- 
 vice, his interest, his labour, at any time, seasonable or 
 
350 OP VIRTUE. 
 
 unseasonable, in a way agreeable to his own particular tem- 
 per and inclination, or in a manner that may be less suit- 
 abic to it ; if he finds himself ready with the open arms of 
 forgiveness to receive his enemy, the moment he appears 
 disposed to repentance and reconciliation ; if he finds that 
 it would be a pleasure to him to do good to those who have 
 injured him, though his goodness should never be known ; 
 if he finds that he is in no part of his private devotions 
 more zealous than when he prays from his heart to Him 
 who searches all hearts, that his "enemy mav be pardoned, 
 reformed, and made as happy hereafter as himself j if he 
 finds that one disappointment or abuse of his goodness, or 
 ten such discouragements, do not cool his ardour for the 
 good of mankind ; that he does not immediately fall out of 
 conceit with a public-spirited design, because of its diffi- 
 culties or uncertainty of success, but that he can stand the 
 raillery of those narrow souls, who cannot rise to his pitch 
 of disinterested benevolence ; and that, though he goes on 
 resolutely, and without wearying in well-doing, he does 
 not do it from pride or self-sulficiency, but from real well- 
 meant goodness of heart and design ; "if he does not search 
 for excuses, but considers himself as obliged to be ahvavs 
 endeavouring to gain some kind and beneficial end, with- 
 out regard to its being more or less directly in his way, or 
 more or less promising of success, if it is "the best he can 
 do at the time, and if no one else will do it better, or en- 
 gage in it all ; and that after all he considers himself as an 
 unprofitable servant, as having done still only his indis- 
 pensable duty ; if the reader finds this to be" the turn of 
 his mind, he may conclude that he is not far from that 
 perfection of benevolence, which the Divine rectitude and 
 Jaw require, and which is necessary to fit every human 
 mind for being a member of* an universal society hereafter. 
 If, on the other hand, he finds, that he is wholly wrapt up 
 in himself; that he thinks with no relish of the happiness 
 of any one else ; that his utmost benevolence extends no 
 wider than the circle of his own family, friends, or panv ; 
 that all he wants is to enrich himself and his relations ; 
 that he cannot look with any personal tenderness or con- 
 siderations upon a Frenchman or Spaniard, a Jew or a 
 Papist, or even a churchman or dissenter, if he differs 
 from them in profession ; if, reader, thou findest this to 
 
OF VIRTUE. 351 
 
 be the turn of thy mind ; if, in a word, thou dost not find 
 it to be thy meat and thy drink to do thy fellow-creature 
 good, if thou dost not love thy neighbour with the same 
 affection as thyself, be assured thou art not at present of 
 the disposition of mind, which the Universal Governor 
 would have all his rational creatures brought to ; and 
 may est judge what chance thou hast for His favour, whose 
 favour is life and happiness ; whose love to all his crea- 
 tures tends to draw and unite them to himself, and would 
 have them all love one another, that by universal love they 
 may be united into one society, under one infinite Lord 
 and universal Father. 
 
 SECTION VIII. 
 Of our Obligations with Respect to our Creator. 
 
 WE come now to the third and noblest part of the duty 
 of rational beings, which is also their highest honour, I 
 mean, That which they owe to the Creator, Preserver, and 
 Governor of themselves, and the Universe. The first part, 
 or foundation of which is, The belief of his existence. 
 
 The abstract proof of the existence of God requires noth- 
 ing to be granted, but only, That something now exists ; 
 which concession forces the mind to confess the necessity 
 of some First Cause, existing naturally, necessarily, and 
 independently upon any other ; Himself the cause of all 
 things ; Himself the fountain of being, and plenitude of 
 perfection. 
 
 This proof leaves no room for caviling : but effectually 
 cuts off the subtle disputer from every possible evasion or 
 subterfuge. It is not however so easy for those who have 
 been accustomed to abstract reasoning, to see the conclu- 
 sive force of it. For the bulk of mankind, the fittest argu- 
 ments for the being of God are taken from the stupendous 
 works of Nature. And what object is there in the whole 
 compass of nature, animate or inanimate, great or small, 
 rare or common, which does not point to the almighty 
 Author of all things * Not only those which strike us with 
 astonishment, and fill our minds with their greatness ; not 
 only the view of a rolling ocean, a blazing sun, or the con- 
 cave of heaven sparkling wilh its innumerable starry fires; 
 
352 OF VIRTUK. 
 
 but even the Sight of a flower, a pile of grass, or a rep- 
 tile of the dust, every particle of matter around us; the 
 body, into which his breath has infused our life ; the soiil, 
 b\ which we think and know ; whatever we fix our eye or 
 
 thought upon, holds forth the ever-present Deity. In what 
 state or place must we be, to be insensible of Him, by 
 whom our very being is preserved ? Whither miibt we 
 withdraw ourselves, to be out of the reach of his Divine 
 communications, who minutely fills every point of bound- 
 less space? Is it possible to obliterate from our minds the 
 thought of him in whom we live, and move, and have our 
 being ? 
 
 The first and fundamenta 1 duty of all rational beings to 
 God, is, as I have said, To believe his existence. Now, 
 though there is nothing praise-worth* in believing the most 
 important truth upon insufficient grounds ; and though, 
 on the contrary, credulity is a weakness unworthy of a 
 being endowed with a capacity of examining and finding 
 out truth : yet there may be a great wickedness in unbelief; 
 For a person may, from obstinacy and perverseness, reject 
 important truth, or through levity, folly, or an attachment 
 to vice, may avoid the proper and natural means of convic- 
 tion. So that the effect, which the rational and clear per- 
 suasion of important truth might have had upon his dis- 
 position and practice, may be lost. And it is greatly to 
 be suspected, that multitudes are guilty of this last crime, 
 with respect to the awful doctrine of the existence of God. 
 If they be asked, whether they believe that there is a God, 
 they willtakeitamiss tobe suspected of the least inclination 
 to Atheism. But it is evident, from their lives and conver- 
 sations, that if they believe the existence of God at all, it 
 is in such a manner as is next to no belief. They think 
 not of the matter. There may, or may not, be a God 
 for any thing they know or care. 
 
 But to believe this important doctrine in a manner be- 
 coming a rational creature, is to bear in mind a constant 
 and habitual impression of an infinitely perfect nature, he 
 Author and Fountain of existence, the wise and righteous 
 Governor of the universe, who is every where present, 
 beholding ail the actions and intentions of his creatures, to 
 whom ail rational beings are accountable, aid upon ivhose 
 favour or disapprobation their fate to all eternity wholly 
 
OF VIRTUE. 353 
 
 depends. To think of the Supreme Being in any other way 
 than this, is not believing His existence in a rational and 
 consistent manner. 
 
 And did men really admit the rational belief of a God; 
 did they impress their minds with a fixed and constant 
 attention to the awful thought of their being under the con- 
 tinual inspection of their judge, we should not see them 
 proceed in the manner they do. For I ask, How the buik 
 of mankind could behave worse than they do, if they were 
 sure there was no God? We see them ready to catch at 
 everv unwarrantable gratification of passion or appetite ; to 
 put every fraudulent or wicked scheme in execution, from 
 which they are not restrained either by human laws, or by 
 fear of losing the esteem and confidence of their fellow- 
 creatures, with the advantages connected with it. What 
 eould they do more, if there was no God"? Is there, tak- 
 ing mankind upon an average, one of an hundred who 
 hesitates at any vicious thought, word or action, from the 
 single consideration of its being perhaps displeasing to 
 God? Is there one of an hundred who habitually regulates 
 his thoughts, words, and actions, by the standard of the 
 Divine Will, and would rather lose the favour and appro- 
 bation of all the rrlen on earth, and all the angels of heaven, 
 than his Maker's alone ? How seldom do we meet with an 
 instance of a person, who will not truckle and temporize, 
 commute and compound with conscience, or even stifle 
 its remonstrances to gain the favour of the great? Whereas, 
 if men acted upon the principle of a rational belief of a 
 God, they would rather make a point of giving up all 
 human favour, to make sure of keeping strictly to their 
 duty ; they would take care always to be on the safe side, 
 to be scrupulously exact, rather than too free, in their 
 lives and conversations ; they would labour, if possible, 
 to do more than the exact duty of their stations ; and to 
 avoid even the least appearance of evil ; as they who would 
 make their court to a prince, do not grudge any extraor- 
 dinary service, attendance, or expence for him ; are cau- 
 tious of so much as seeming to look toward what may be 
 disagreeable to his humour or inclination, or in the least 
 favouring, or seeming to favour, those whom he does not 
 approve. Did men in any rational and consistent manner 
 believe the existence of a God, or think of him as the 
 
 2 Y 
 
554 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 Governor and Judge of the world, under whose immediate 
 inspection we stand at all moments, we should see their 
 conduct corrected and regulated by that constant awe and 
 fear, which becomes dependent, accountable beings, whose 
 minds are duly impressed with a sense of their present c©n- 
 dition and future expectations. Their belief would be prac- 
 tical as well as speculative. It would affect their hearts, as 
 well as impress their understandings. 
 
 How some men contrive to satisfy their own minds upon 
 the subject of their duty to God, is inconceivable. One 
 would imagine it impossible for a being, at all capable of 
 thought, to bring himself to believe, that though he owes 
 his existence, his body, his soul, his reasoning faculty, 
 speech and all its powers, corporeal and mental, with what- 
 ever he enjoys now, or hopes for hereafter, to an infinitely 
 perfect and amiable Being, who has made him capable of 
 apprehending his perfections and his absolute power over 
 him ; one would imagine it impossible, I say, for a being 
 endowed with a reasoning faculty to believe all this, and 
 yet think he owes no duty at all, no gratitude, love, or ser- 
 vice, no positive adoration or praise to his Creator, Gov- 
 ernor and Judge. Yet is there, even in this enlightened 
 age, and this land of knowledge, a person among an hund- 
 red who makes conscience of regularly and habitually per- 
 forming, in a rational and devout manner, the positive 
 duties of meditation upon the Divine perfections, in order 
 to raise his mind to an imitation of them; of addressing 
 God by prayer for the supply of all his wants ; or of prais- 
 ing him for the bounties received ? on the contrary, 
 is there not too much reason to conclude, that by far 
 the greatest part of mankind have not God in all their 
 thoughts ; or if they have, the thought of him produces 
 no visible effect ? They attend the public worship indeed 
 from a sense of decency. But it is plain, from the gen- 
 eral levity of behaviour, that their hearts are not in it. 
 And as for worshipping God daily in their houses, with 
 their families, or by themselves in ther closets, they see 
 no necessity for it, and conclude, that whoever lives soberly 
 and is good-natured, though he habitually neglects the 
 whole third part of his duty, is likely to meet with the di- 
 vine approbation, and to be happy at last. 
 
 It is proved above, that the Author of all things must 
 
©F VIRTUE. 355 
 
 be infinite in his essence, and in all possible perfections, as 
 wisdom, power, goodness, and rectitude. If so, it is evi- 
 dent, not only that he is the proper object of the admira- 
 tion, love, gratitude, and every other noble affection, of 
 the minds of such low creatures as mankind, who are 
 probably the meanest of all rational beings ; but that it is 
 the glory of the highest archangel in heaven to adore infin- 
 ite Perfection ; nay, that the whole of the reverence, love, 
 and praise of any conceivable number of created beings, 
 paid by them through all eternity, must fall infinitely short 
 of what is justly his due ; because the whole of the trib- 
 ute of honour and sendee, which all created beings can 
 pay, will be finite ; whereas the Divine Perfections are in- 
 finite : Now every finite is infinitely deficient, when com- 
 pared with what is infinite. 
 
 To be more particular; the consideration of the Di- 
 vine Immensity, or Omnipresence, ought to strike every 
 thinking mind with the most profound awe and venera- 
 tion, which ought to dwell upon it constantly and habitu- 
 ally, of its being at all times surrounded with the Divinity 
 which pervades all matter, and is the Spirit within every 
 spirit, seeing, or rather intimately feeling, every motion of 
 every mind in the universe. Whoever has just and hab- 
 itual impressions of the Divine Omnipresence, will no 
 more presume to do any thing amiss or even to think 
 a bad thought, than a considerate person will dare to be- 
 have rudely in the royal presence. A thinking mind con- 
 siders itself as at all times, by day and by night, in public 
 and in private, abroad and at home, in the immediate and 
 intimate presence of the great King of the World, whose 
 boundless palace is the whole universe. It will therefore 
 be continually and habitually on its guard ; and, as one 
 who appears before an illustrious character, whose favour 
 he greatly values, will be above all things fearful of mis- 
 behaving ; so will the considerate mind dread the danger 
 of losing the approbation of that ever-present Judge, upon 
 whom his fate depends, infinitely more than pain, or pov- 
 erty, or shame, or death, and will cheerfully expose him- 
 self to any or all of them, rather than act an unbecoming 
 part before that Eye, which is not to be deceived. He, 
 who thinks how vice, or even frailty, must appear before 
 that Being, whose very nature is rectitude in perfection, 
 
350* OF VIRTUE. 
 
 and who knows not the least shadow of error, or deviation ; 
 can he think of voluntarily departing from the eternal rule 
 oi right, or allowing himself in any practice, which must 
 offend Infinite Purity ? 
 
 The consideration of the eternity or perpetual existence 
 hereafter, of the Divinity, together with that of the neces- 
 s :y immutability of his nature, suggests to the pious and 
 well-disposed mind, the comfortable prospect, that after 
 all the changes and revolutions which may happen to it, 
 to the kingdoms, and empires of this world, and to the 
 world itself; after all the visible objects, which now are, 
 have performed their courses, and are vanished, or renew- 
 ed; after a period of duration long enough to obliterate 
 from all human memory the idea of a sun, and stars, and 
 earth ; still he, who is now Governor of the Universe, 
 will continue to fill the Supreme Throne, and to rule with 
 boundless and uncontroled sway over his infinite domin- 
 ions; and consequently, that whratver is so wise as to 
 strive above all things to srain his favour, may depend up- 
 on being always secure of the enjoyment of the happiness 
 assigned him by the general Judge, and that no change in 
 the affairs even of the whole universe, will ever remove 
 him from that station which has been appointed him. For 
 the Universal Governor will raise no one to happiness 
 hereafter, but such as he finds qualified for it. Nor will 
 the time ever come, when it will not be in his power to 
 keep those beings happy, which he has once made so ; 
 for his dominion is an everlasting dominion, and of his 
 kingdom there will never be an end. Nor will the time 
 ever come, when he will change his purpose or scheme of 
 government ; or, like a weak, earthly prince, degrade his fa- 
 vourites, or reverse his laws, or indulge uncertain caprice. 
 
 This shows the Supreme Being to be a very proper ob- 
 ject of the trust of all his creatures. Had I the favour of 
 all the crowned heads in the world, it is evident, that in so 
 short a time as a century hence, it must be of no manner o£ 
 value to me. Death will, in all probability, before that 
 short period be elapsed, remove every one of them, and 
 myself too, into a state, in which no favour will be of any 
 avail, but that of the King of Kings, upon whom they must 
 be as much dependent as I. But to trust to Him who is 
 eternal in his nature, and unchangeable in his purpose, and 
 
OF VIRTUE. 357 
 
 who has it in his power to make and keep his favourites 
 eternally happy, is building upon a sure foundation. 
 
 Here it is to be remembered, that it is only a course of 
 obedience that we have any pretence to trust in God. 
 All confidence in him, that is not founded in well-doing, 
 is vain and presumptuous, and will in the end be disap- 
 pointed. As the king on the throne has power to raise 
 any person, whom he may judge worthy of honour, at the 
 same time that it is vain and presumptuous to think of trust- 
 ing to him in any other way, than such as may be likely to 
 gain his favour; so, though the Supreme King of the 
 Universe has power to raise any of his creatures to incon- 
 ceivable happiness, it is not to be expected that he will be- 
 stow his favour upon any, but such as shall be found worthy 
 of it. And his infinite wisdom will effectually prevent his 
 being mistaken in his judgment of characters ; and rend- 
 ers it impossibe that he should bestow his approbation 
 amiss. So that there is no ground of confidence for any, 
 but those who make it their sincere and diligent endeavour 
 to gain the Divine favour in the way which he has ap- 
 pointed. 
 
 It is impossible to survey, with a discerning eye, the 
 world which we inhabit, without reading the illustrious 
 characters of power, wisdom and goodness, which the 
 Divine hand has inscribed upon it ; each of which attri- 
 butes suggests to us a set of duties, and therefore deserves 
 our particular consideration. 
 
 To create, or bring into existence, one particle of mat- 
 ter, which before was nothing, who can say what power is 
 requisite ? The difference between nothing and a real ex- 
 istence is strictly and properly infinite. Which seems to 
 imply an infinite difficulty to be surmounted, before o :e 
 particle of matter can be produced. And no power, in- 
 ferior to infinite, is equal to an infinite difficulty. Be that 
 as it will, it is unquestionable, that to produce great works, 
 requires proportionable power. And if the works of na- 
 ture are not great, there is no greatness conceivable. The 
 calling forth a world into being, had it been from its cre- 
 ation to remain for ever at rest, had been an effect worthy 
 of Divine power. But to give a system so huge and un- 
 wieldy, any degree of motion, much more to give a mo- 
 tion irfconceivablv swift, to masses of matter inconceivably 
 
358 OT VIRTUE. 
 
 bulky ; to accommodate velocity to what is the most un- 
 fit for being moved with velocity ; to whirl a whole earth, 
 a globe of twenty-five thousand miles round, with all its 
 mountains and oceans, at the rate of near sixty thousand 
 miles an hour ; to carry on such an amazing motion for 
 many thousands of years; to keep six such bodies in contin- 
 ual motion, in different planes, and with different velocities, 
 round a common centre, at the same time that ten others 
 are revolving round them, and going along with them ; 
 what amazing power is requisite to produce such effects ! 
 How do we admire the effects produced by a combina- 
 tion of mechanic powers (which also act by Divine 
 Power, or Laws of Nature) in raising weights, and over- 
 coming the vis inertia of matter ? What should we think 
 of a machine, constructed by human hands, by which St. 
 Paul's church or a little hill, should be transported half a 
 mite from its place, with ever so slow a motion ? But the 
 greatest mountain is no more in comparison with the whole 
 earth, than a grain of sand to a mountain. Yet the whole 
 cumbrous mass of earth has been whirled round the sun, 
 for these five thousand years and upwards, with a rapidity, 
 frightful to think of, and for any thing we know, with un- 
 diminished force. And the comet in J 680-81, must, 
 according to the Newtonian principles, have moved in its 
 perihelion, or nearest approach to the sun, at the rate of 
 above a million of miles in an hour; which was a flight 
 near twenty times more rapid than that of the earth in its 
 annual course ! Now the swiftest speed of a horse, that 
 ever has been known, was at the rate of one mile in one 
 minute, which continued, would give sixty miles in an 
 hour, instead of more than a million, the comet's motion. 
 The swiftest horse, at full speed, may move twenty feet in 
 the time that one can pronounce one, or sixty feet, while 
 one can say one, two, three. But to form some concep- 
 tion of the motion of the Newtonian comet, let the reader 
 suppose himself placed upon such an eminence as will 
 v:\\x him a prospect of fifty miles on each hand ; the rapid- 
 ity of that tremendous body in the swiftest part of its 
 course, was such that in the time of pronouncing one syl- 
 lable, or in the twinkling of an eye, it would fly across that 
 space of one hundred miles, while the swiftest horse would 
 have proceeded twenty feet. Yet those enormous bodies 
 
OF VIRTUE. 359 
 
 are by the parallax they give, supposed to be nearly of the 
 magnitude of our globe of earth and ocean, and some of 
 them perhaps larger. 
 
 Now their is nothing more evident, than that in pro- 
 portion to the quantity of matter to be moved, and the 
 velocity with which it is to be moved, such must be the 
 moving force. Let the reader, therefore, if he has any 
 talent in calculation, try to estimate the force required to 
 give such a furious rapidity to bodies of such stupendous 
 magnitude ; if he has any imagination, let him fill it with 
 the sublime idea of Omnipotence ; and if he has either 
 reason or religion, let him prostrate his soul, and adore 
 such tremendous and irresistible power. 
 
 Nor is less command of matter required to produce the 
 astonishing appearances in the minute, than in the great 
 world ; to carry on the various secretions, circulations, 
 and transmutations in vegetation, and the production, 
 growth, and life of animals ; especially when the degree of 
 minuteness is such,as it must be in an animalcule, of which 
 millions would only equal the bulk of a grain of sand. 
 What power is required to wing the rapid light from its 
 fountain, the sun, to us in seven or eight minutes, with 
 such swiftness, that in the instant of pronouncing the word 
 light, sixty thousand miles are passed through ! 
 
 To a being possessed of rightful power over us, the 
 proper duty is evidentally fear, or awe ; and the conse- 
 quences of that is obedience. If we consider the Supreme 
 Being as possessed of infinite or boundless power over 
 all his creatures, we must see the indispensable necessity 
 of the most profound submission to him, both in our dis- 
 positions and practices. If we consider him as our Cre- 
 ator, we must be convinced that he has an absolute right to 
 us and to all our services. If we think of him as irresist- 
 ible, rebellion against him is a degree of madness beyond 
 all computation. For what lasting and inconceivably dread- 
 ful punishments may not such power inflict upon those per- 
 verse and impenitent beings, who become the objects of 
 his vengeance ? And what chance can the worms of the 
 earth have to deliver themselves out of the hands of the 
 Almighty ? 
 
 There is no inconsistency between the fear we owe to 
 God, and the duty of love. On the contrary, love ever 
 
560 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 implies a fear to offend the person beloved. As on one 
 hand, nothing is so perfectly amiable as infinite perfection ; 
 so neither is there any so proper object of fear, as he who 
 is infinitely great and awful. And there is a wide differ- 
 ence between the slavish fear, which a criminal has for 
 his judge, or that which a miserable subject has for a 
 tyrant, and that of a son for an affectionate father. Of this 
 last kind is the reverence with which we ought to think of 
 our Creator. Only we must take the utmost care not to 
 entertain any notion of God, as of one capable of an\ v eak- 
 ness resembling that of earthly parents. For it is certain, 
 that the Judge of the world, whose rectitude and justice 
 are absolutely perfect and inviolable, will not, cannot, be 
 mislead, by fondness for his own creatures, to make the 
 obdurately wicked happy: For, though he loves his crea- 
 tures, he loves justice more, and will not sacrifice his own 
 eternal and immutable attribute for the sake of any num- 
 ber of worthless rebellious beings whatever. 
 
 As to the Divine Wisdom appearing in the works of 
 creation, we are peculiarly at a loss to conceive properly of 
 it. For we come into a world ready finished, and fit to be 
 inhabited ; and therefore have no conception of the im- 
 mense stretch of thought, the amazing depth of inven- 
 tion (if we may so speak) that was necessary to plan an 
 universe. Let any man imagine the state of things before 
 there was any created being, if ever such a time was ; 
 when there was no plan, no model, or pattern to proceed 
 upon ; when the very idea of an universe, as w r ell as the 
 particular plan and execution of it, was to be drawn, so to 
 speak, out of the Divine Imagination. Let the reader 
 suppose himself to have been first produced, and to have 
 had it revealed to him by his Creator, that an universe 
 was to be created. An universe ! What idea could he 
 have formed of an universe ? Had he been consulted upon 
 the plan of it, which part would he have begun at ? Before 
 light existed, could he have conceived the idea of light? 
 Ik 'ore there was either sun, stars, or earth, could he 
 have formed any conception of a sun, stars, or earth ? 
 Could he have contrived light for the eye, or the eye for 
 light ? Could he have suited a world to its inhabitants, or 
 inhabitants to a world ? Could he have fitted bodies to 
 minds, or minds to bodies ? 
 
OF VIRTUE. 361 
 
 If the reader should not clearly enough see the difficulty 
 of inventing and planning an universe from nothing, nor 
 the wondrous foresight and comprehensive wisdom, that 
 •was necessary for fitting an almost infinite number of things 
 to one another, in such a manner, that every particular 
 should answer its particular end, and fill its particular 
 place at the same time that it should contribute to pro- 
 mote various other designs; if the depth of Wisdom, 
 which has produced all this, does not sufficiently appear 
 to the reader, let him try to form a plan of a new world, 
 quite .different from all that he knows of in the present 
 universe, in which none of our elements, nor light, nor 
 animal life, nor any of the five senses, nor respiration, nor 
 vegetation shall have any place- And when he has used 
 •his utmost efforts, and put his invention upon the utmost 
 stretch, and finds that he cannot form a shadow of one 
 single idea, of which the original is not drawn from na- 
 ture ; then let him confess his own weakness, and adore 
 that boundless Wisdom, which has produced, out of its 
 own infinite fertility of invention, enough to emplo}', and 
 to confound the utmost human sagacity. 
 
 Have not the most acute penetration, and indefatigable 
 industry of the wise and learned of all ages, been employ- 
 ed (and how could they more worthily) in searching out 
 the wonderful works of the Almighty Maker of the uni- 
 verse ? and have they yet found out one single article to 
 the bottom ? Can all the philosophers of modern times, 
 who have added to the observations of the ancients, the 
 discoveries made by their own industry and sagacity ; can 
 the)- give a satisfying account of the machinery of the 
 body of a fly, or a worm ? Can they tell what makes two 
 particles of matter cohere ? Can they tell what the sub- 
 stance of a particle of matter is ? Is the science of physi- 
 ology, delightful and noble as it is, and worthy of the 
 study of angels, is it carried any farther than a uet of obser- 
 vations, wonderful indeed and striking, but as to real cau- 
 ses, and internal natures, altogether in the dark ? How do 
 we admire, and justly, the exalted genius of our seemingly 
 inspired philosopher, for going a pitch beyond the sagacity 
 of all mankind in discovering the laws, by which the vast 
 machine of the world is governed? Yet he modestly owns 
 the cause of attraction and gravitation to lie too deep for 
 
 2 Z 
 
J62 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 his penetration. How do we stand astonished at the acute - 
 hesa of a mind, which could pursue calculations to a de- 
 gree of subtilty beyond the reach of by far the greatest 
 part of mankind to follow him in, even after he has shown 
 the way ? What then ought we think of that Wisdom, 
 which in its meanest productions baffles the deepest pene- 
 tration of a capacity, whose acutemss baffles the general 
 understanding of mankind ? 
 
 From the consideration of the wisdom we trace in the 
 natural world, it is manifest, past all doubt, that the moral 
 system (for the sake of which that of nature was brought 
 into existence) is under the same conduct, and will here- 
 after appear to be a scheme altogether worthy of God. 
 For either both, or neither, must be the contrivance of Di- 
 vine Wisdom. We cannot conceive of God as partly, 
 or by halves, but wholly, the Creator and Governor of all 
 beings, natural and moral. And if so, we may be assured, 
 that, as in the system of nature, final causes are fitted to 
 produce their effects, and every part of the machine of the 
 world is properly adjusted to its place and purpose ; so in 
 the moral, every rational being will be determined to the 
 state and place he is found fit for ; the good to happiness, 
 and the wicked to punishment ; the highly elevated and 
 purified mind to a high and eminent station, and the cor- 
 rupt and sordid to shame and misery ; the soul, which 
 has perfected its faculties, and refined its virtues, by imi- 
 tation of the Divine Perfections, to the conversation of 
 angels and the beatific vision of God, and that which has 
 by vice debauched and sunk itself below the brutes, to 
 the place of demons and fallen spirits. And all this may 
 probably proceed as much according to the original con- 
 stitution of things, as a cause produces its effect in the 
 natural world ; as fire produces the dissipation of the parts 
 of combustible substances; as nourishment tends to the 
 support of riimal life ; and as matter tends to decay. So 
 that the only thing which hinders a wicked embodied 
 mind from being now in torments, may be, its being still 
 embodied, and not yet let out into the world of spirits, 
 where a new and dreadful scene will of course immedi- 
 ately open upon it, as soon as it comes to be divested of 
 the earthly vehicle, which now conceals those invisible 
 horrors, and protects it from its future tormentors. And 
 
OF VIRTUE. 363 
 
 in the same manner, the virtuous and exalted mind would 
 be now in a state of happiness, if it were not prevented 
 from the commerce of blessed spirits, and the view of the 
 invisible world, by the impenetrable veil of flesh which 
 surrounds it. But this supposition does not at all affect 
 the doctrine of positive rewards and punishments, nor of 
 separate places appointed for receiving the good, and the 
 wicked, after the final judgment. 
 
 If we find the mere material system of nature to be 
 wrought by a degree of wisdom, altogether beyond our 
 comprehension, it would be madness to suppose that we 
 shall ever have sagacity enough to baffle the Divine Scheme 
 in the moral government of the world ; that we shall be 
 able to contrive any way of escaping from the punishment 
 we may deserve. No. His counsel will stand ; and he 
 will do all his pleasure It will not be in our power to 
 deceive his penetration, to get out of hifi reach, or to de- 
 fend ourselves against his justice. 
 
 To frame some idea of the Divine Goodness in the cre- 
 ation of the world, it will be necessary to go back in im- 
 agination to the ages which preceded all creation, if such 
 there were, or, how ever, to those, which were prior to 
 the production of our world. Let us then view the awful 
 Majesty of heaven, surrounded with ineffable glory, and 
 enthroned in absolute perfection, beyond conception bless- 
 ed in the consciousness of unbounded plenitude. What 
 motive could influence him, who already enjoyed complete 
 perfection and happiness, to call unsubstantial nothing into 
 existence ? What could be the views of infinite Wisdom 
 in speaking a world into being? No prospect of any addi- 
 tion to his own perfection or happiness: for that which 
 was already infinite, what addition could it receive? Could 
 the adorable Creator propose to be more than infinitely 
 perfect and happy ? it is evident, his sole view must have 
 betn to the happiness of the creatures he was to produce. 
 His own was ever, and ever must be, unbounded, undi- 
 minished, and unchanged. The addition of happiness 
 therefore, which was to be produced, was to be bestowed 
 upon those who were not yet created. Does then Divine 
 Goodness extend to that which has no existence ? Does 
 the universal Parent think of what is not? We, poor, 
 narrow souls 1 think it a mighty stretch of benevolence, if 
 
304, OF VIRTUE. 
 
 We can bring ourselves to regard with some measure _ 
 affection those of our fellow-creatures, who stand most 
 nearly connected with us; in loving whom, we do little 
 more than love ourselves, or love our friends and relations 
 for our own sakes. If there be a mind yet more generous, 
 it may take in its country, or the human species, A ben- 
 evolence still more extensive may perhaps enlarge itself so 
 wide, as to comprehend within its generous embrace the 
 various orders of being which form the universal scale; 
 descending from the naming seraph to the humble reptile. 
 Nor indeed can any mind sincerely love the Almighty Ma- 
 ker, and hate, or despise any of the works of the same 
 hand, which formed itself. But the Divine Benevolence 
 is as far beyond all this, as infinitude is larger than any 
 limited space. How peevish, and apt to take offence at 
 every trifling injury, are narrow -hearted mortals ! Yet what 
 are the insults, our feMow- worms- can offer us, when com- 
 pared with the atrociousness of an offence committed by 
 the dust of the earth against the infinite Majesty of the 
 universe ? Though the Omniscient Creator from eternity 
 foresaw, that the creatures he was to form, would prove 
 rebellious and disobedient ; that they would violate all his 
 wise and sacred laws, and insult his sovereign honour, as 
 Governor of the world ; has he grudged to give them exist- 
 ence ; to bestow upon them a temporary happiness; to make 
 his sun shine, and his rain descend on all promiscuously; 
 and put it in the power of all to attain perfection, happi- 
 ness and glory ? What neglect of every duty and obliga- 
 tion ; how many acts of fraud, oppression, and cruelty ; 
 how many horrid execrations, and infernal blasphemies, 
 does every day record against the daring race of men around 
 the world? Yet seldom does the Divine vengeance break 
 loose upon the impious offenders. Our wicked species, 
 if there were no other lawless order of creatures in the uni- 
 verse, are ever offending. And yet the thunder seldom 
 Strikes the guilty dead. Earthquakes and inundations arc- 
 rarely let loose. A few cities purged by fire, and a world 
 cleansed by a deluge once in six thousand years, serve just 
 to put unthinking mortals in remembrance that there is a 
 power above them. So that every moment of the dura- 
 tion of _ the wor!d is an universal witness declaring to all 
 the nations of the earth, in a language distinctly intelfigi- 
 
OF VIRTUE. 365 
 
 ble to all, the goodness of the Maker and Governor of the 
 universe. At the same time that the prince of angels re- 
 ceives from the immediate communications of the Divine 
 Goodness, beatitude past utterance, the humble peasant 
 rejoices in his bounty, with which the fields are enriched, 
 and the fair face of nature is adorned. Even the lonely 
 savage in the wilderness, the sordid reptile in the dust, and 
 the scaly nations, which people the unfathomable deep, all 
 taste of the bounty, and are supported by the unlimited 
 goodness of the Universal Parent, who opens his unwear- 
 ied hand liberally, and satisfies every living soul. 
 
 If human understanding apprehends any thing accord- 
 ing to truth and right, the benevolent character is the proper 
 object of the love of every rational mind, as the contrary- 
 is the natural object of aversion. If every human, or other 
 finite mind, is more or less amiable, according as it has 
 more or less of this excellent disposition ; it is evident, 
 that Infinite Goodness is infinitely amiable. Who is he, 
 that pretends to think and reason, and has no pleasure in 
 contemplating the Divine Goodness? Who can reflect upon 
 such goodness, and not admire it ? Who can admire and 
 not endeavour to imitate it ? Who can imitate it, and 
 not be an universal blessing ? Who can be an universal 
 blessing, and not be happy ? 
 
 If the Divine Goodness be evidently disinterested, it 
 being impossible that the smallest happiness should, from 
 any enjoyed by the creatures, be added to that of the Cre- 
 ator, which is necessarily infinite ; it is plain, what makes 
 real and perfect goodness of disposition in any mind, 
 viz. A propensity to contribute to the happiness of others, 
 without any view to self-interest. In so far as a view to 
 ones' own happiness is the motive to his exerting him- 
 self for the good of his fellow- creatures, in so far it has 
 less of the truly worthy and commendable in it. For self- 
 love, being merely instinctive, has nothing praise- worthy. 
 And to promote the happiness of others for the sake of 
 adding to one's own, is what the most selfish and sordid 
 character is. capable of. To be truly benevolent, is to 
 imitate the Deity ; to do good for the sake of doing good; 
 to be bountiful from the disposition of the mind, from 
 universal love and kindness, from rational considerations 
 
566 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 of the intrinsic excellence of that godlike disposition; not 
 tronvmere weak and effeminate softness of nature. 
 
 It is strange, that ever it should have been questioned 
 whether it is reasonable for dependent creatures to address 
 themselves to their Infinite Creator for the supplv of their 
 wants. Yet books have been written to show the unrea- 
 sonableness of prayer. "The Supreme Being," says an 
 objector, « knows whether I am worthy to receive favours 
 at his hand, and what I most need, before 1 apply to him 
 " If I am worthy, he will bestow, whether I ask or not : If 
 not, he will not be prevailed on by any solicitation to 
 bestow upon an unworthy object. If I ask what is unfit 
 lor me, he is too wise and good to grant it; and if I ask 
 what is fit, I gain nothing: for he would have bestowed it 
 upon me of his own goodness, without my asking." 
 
 There cannot be a more egregious fallacy thanW, on 
 which this objection is founded. For it is evident, that, it- 
 it be rational to think of ourselves as beings dependent 
 upon the Supreme, it is rational for us to express our de- 
 pendence ; if it be reasonable for us to express our depen- 
 dence on our Creator, it is unjustifiable in us to neglect 
 it ; so that I can in no propriety of speech be said to be a 
 worthy object of the Divine favour, till I actually address 
 myself to him. Again, it is evident, that no degree of 
 homage, or submission, ought to be wanting from depen- 
 dent creatures to their Creator. But the service of both 
 body and mind is a greater degree of homage, than that 
 of the mind alone. So that till I yield the bodily homage, 
 as well as that of the mind, mv service is deficient, which 
 renders me an unworthy object of the Divine favour. 
 
 It is likewise remarkable, that many of the more rational 
 and pious writers on this subject, have laboured to repre- 
 sent the whole rationale of the duty of prayer as consist- 
 ing in the advantage which is thereby to accrue to the wor- 
 shipper by improvement in piety "and goodness. It is 
 true, that the moral effects likely to be produced by the 
 constant observance of this most important duty, are of 
 great and inestimable consequence, which renders it a 
 most useful instrument for those noble purposes. Did 
 men habitually observe the practice of addressing them- 
 selves to their Creator, with an awful sense of his" infinite 
 greatness and authority over them ; such a fixed impres- 
 
OF VIRTUE. 367 
 
 sion must in time be thereby made upon their minds, as 
 would prove a restraint from vice, at all times, and in all 
 cases, equally powerful. Did people make a point of 
 applying constantly and regularly to the Giver of entry 
 good gift, they could hardly miss entertaining in their 
 minds an habitual sense of their absolute dependence upon 
 him ; of gratitude for his bounties received ; and of study- 
 ing obedience, in order to his future favour. What man 
 could be so hardened as to go on daily lamenting and con- 
 fessing his offences, and daily repeating them ? Who could 
 presumptuously be guilty of a crime, which he knew he 
 must the same day confess to his all-seeing Judge, and 
 implore the pardon of it? He, who kept up his constant 
 intercourse with his Creator, must find himself very pow- 
 erfully influenced by it, and improved in every pious and 
 worthy disposition. But besides all this, it is evidently 
 in itself a reasonable service ; and is to be considered not 
 only as a noble and valuable means of moral improvement, 
 but as a positive act of virtue ; it being as proper virtue 
 to render to God the honour and worship due to him, as to 
 give to men their just rights. And to withhold from him 
 what he has the most unquestionable title to, being as 
 much an injustice (with the atrocious addition of its being 
 committed against the greatest and best of beings) as to 
 withhold from a fellow-creature his just property. There 
 is also plainly a connexion in nature and reason, between 
 asking and receiving, and between neglecting to ask and 
 not receiving. This natural connexion makes it reason- 
 able for dependent creatures to expect to obtain their 
 reasonable requests ; and to conclude, that what they do not 
 think it worth while to ask they shall not receive. If 
 there were not such a connexion and foundation in reason 
 for this duty, it had never been commanded by the all- 
 wise Lawgiver of the universe ; nor come to be univer- 
 sally practised by the wisest and best of mankind, in all 
 ages and nations. Nor is there any greater difficulty in con- 
 ceiving the possibility of a pre-established scheme in the 
 Divine economy, according to which the blessings of 
 Heaven, whether of a spiritual or temporal nature, should 
 be granted to those who should ask, and be found fit to 
 receive them, than in anv other instance of Povidence, or 
 
368 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 than in the future happiness of the good part of mankind 
 and not of the wicked. 
 
 If the Supreme Being be One, he is the proper object 
 ot the adoration of all reasonable beings, because, having 
 all things m Irs absolute disposal, without possibility of 
 being thwarted or controled by any one, if we can gain 
 his good-will, we cannot want that of any other. If He 
 be kind and good in the most disinterested manner, and 
 to the highest degree, even extending his bounty to the 
 wicked and rebellious, and preserving them in existence, 
 who make no use of their existence but to offend Him • 
 it is reasonable to hope, that He will lend a propitious ear 
 to the humble requests of the virtuous and pious part of 
 his creatures. If he has all things in his power, and can 
 bestow without measure, gifts both spiritual and tempo- 
 ral, without diminishing his inexhaustible riches, to ap- 
 ply to him is going where we are sure we shall not be 
 disappointed through want of ability to supplv us. If he 
 is every where present, we may be sure of "being heard 
 wherever we make our addresses to him. If he is within our 
 very minds, we cannot raise a thought toward him, but he 
 must perceive it. If he is infinitely wise, he knows ex- 
 actly what is fit for us, and will grant such of our petitions 
 as may be proper to be bestowed upon us, and withhold 
 whatever may prove hurtful, though we have asked it. 
 If it be reasonable to suppose, that he expects all his think- 
 ing creatures to apply to him, we may do it with this com- 
 fortable consideration, to encourage us; that in address- 
 ing him, we are doing what is agreeable to his nature and 
 will, and cannot offend him but by our manner of perform- 
 ing it. Were I to have an audience of a prince, it would 
 give me great encouragement to know that he was gra- 
 ciously disposed toward me, that I should not offend him 
 by begging his favour and protection ; but that, on the 
 Contrary, he expected I should petition him, and would 
 even take it amiss if I did not; that he had it fully in his 
 pow er, as well as in his inclination, to grant me the great- 
 est favour I should have occasion to ask him; and that it 
 was his peculiar delight to oblige and make his subject 
 happy. There are lt\v princes, of whom most of these 
 things may be said? and none, of whom all may be affirm- 
 ed. And yet they find, to their no small trouble and 
 
OF VIRTUE. 369 
 
 incumbrance, that for the few inconsiderable, perishing 
 favours they have in their power, there are petitioners 
 almost innumerable. Whilst the infinitely Good Giver 
 of all things, whose disposition, and whose power to 
 bestow happiness inconceivable, are equally boundless, is 
 neglected and defrauded of that homage and devotion, to 
 which all his creatures ought to be drawn by a sense of 
 their own absolute dependance upon him; of his ability 
 and readiness to bestow j of his authority, who has com- 
 manded them to make their requests to him; and b\ the 
 spontaneous dictates of their own minds, directing them 
 to the performance of a duty so easy, so reasonable, and so 
 promising of the most important advantages. 
 
 Though the principal part of prayer is petition, or ad- 
 dressing Heaven for the supply of our various wants for 
 life and futurity, there are other branches, as confession 
 of our infirmities and faults ; thanksgiving; for the various 
 instances we have received of the Divine Goodness ; and 
 intercession for our fellow-creatures. The subject of our 
 petitions for ourselves ought to be necessaries of this life, 
 for which the rich, as well as the poor, depend daily on the 
 Divine Bounty, and the Divine Assistance toward our be- 
 ing fitted for happiness hereafter. The first, if we judge 
 wisely, we shall ask with great submission, and in mod- 
 eration, as being of less consequence, and too apt to have 
 bad effects upon our moral characters, when liberally be- 
 stowed. The latter, being of infinite consequence to us, 
 we may request with more earnestness and importunity. 
 
 If we give the least attention to our own characters, we 
 must find our thoughts often trifling and wicked, our words 
 foolish and mischievous, and our actions criminal before 
 God. If we have any consideration, we cannot but think 
 ourselves deplorably deficient in the performance of our 
 duty with regard to ourselves, our fellow-creatures, and 
 our Creator. If we are in reason obliged to think often 
 of the fatal errors of our lives, to view and review them 
 attentively, with all their heavy aggravations, and to mourn 
 and lament them in our own minds ; if all this be highiy 
 proper and reasonable, it is more peculiarly reasonable to 
 acknowledge our offences before Him, whom we have 
 offended ; to implore his pardon, who alone can forgive 
 and deprecate his vengeance, which we have so justly de- 
 
 3 A 
 
3 70 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 served. We ourselves, when offended by a feilow-creature, 
 expect that he should not only be convinced in his own 
 mind of his misbehaviour, and speak of it with concern 
 to others ; but likewise, that he come and make a direct 
 acknowledgment, and ask our pardon. Nor is there any- 
 thing unreasonable in all this. How much more, when 
 we have offended Him who is infinitely above us, and from 
 whom we have every thing to fear, if we do not, by sin- 
 cere repentance, and thorough reformation, avert the deserv- 
 ed punishment. Especially, if w r e consider that the per- 
 formance of this duty tends naturally to lead us to real 
 repentance and reformation. 
 
 As we ought in our prayers to confess our faults and 
 errors, and that not in general terms, but with particular 
 reflection, in our own minds, upon the principal and 
 grossest of them, which every true penitent has ever upon 
 his heart, and before his eyes ; so ought we in all reason to 
 return our sincere thanks to the universal Benefactor, ex- 
 pressly for every particular signal instance of his favour, 
 whether those, in which mankind in general share with us, 
 or those in which we have been distinguished from others. 
 
 If we have upon our minds a due and habitual sense of 
 our offences, we shall of ourselves be willing to make con- 
 fession of them. If we have any gratitude in our nature 
 we shall not fail to express our acknowledgments for our 
 favours received. And if we have any real benevolence 
 for our fellow-creatures, we shall be naturally led to think, 
 it our duty to present to the common Father of All, our 
 good wishes for them; that they may be favoured with 
 every blessing which may tend to promote universal hap- 
 piness, spiritual and temporal. 
 
 If it be at all rational to worship God by prayer, it is 
 obviously so to join together at proper times in that sub- 
 lime exercise. The advantages of public assemblies for 
 religious purposes, are the impressing more powerfully 
 upon the minds of the worshippers, the sublimity and- 
 importance of the duty they are employed in, and the pow- 
 erful effects of universal example. It is pretty evident, 
 that the public worship on Sundays is what cjhiefly keeps 
 up the little appearance of religion that is still left among 
 us. I think there is no good reason against keeping up 
 in public worship as much pomp and magnificence as may 
 
OF VIRTUE. 371 
 
 be consistent with propriety, and so as to avoid ostenta- 
 tion and superstition. We are, in our present state, very 
 mechanical, and need all proper helps for drawing our in- 
 clinations along with our duty, for engaging our attention, 
 and making such impressions upon us, as may be lasting 
 and effectual. Public worship ought to be so conducted, 
 as to be most likely to prepare us for a more numerous 
 society, in which more sublime exercises of devotion than 
 any we 'are now capable of conceiving of, may be a consid- 
 erable part of our employment and happiness. 
 
 Did our leading people think rightly, they would see 
 the advantages of giving their attendance themselves at 
 places of public worship, and using their influence and 
 authority to draw others to follow the same laudable ex- 
 ample. Deplorable are the excuses and apologies made 
 by them for their too general and infamous neglect of the 
 unquestionable dutv of attending the public worship of 
 God. Nor would it be easy to determine, whether their 
 practice shows more want of sense or of goodness. One 
 mighty pretence made by them is, That as to public in- 
 structions, truly they hold themselves to be as good judges 
 of moral and divine subjects as the clergy ; and therefore 
 they think it lost time to give their attention to any thing 
 which mav be delivered from the pulpit. Now, it seems 
 at least no't very probable, that people, who spend most of 
 their time (Sundays notexcepted) at the card-table, should 
 as thoroughly understand the extensive sciences of morals 
 and theology, as the public teachers of religion, who have 
 spent many years whollv in those studies. Those very 
 persons, when thev chance to be overtaken with sickness, 
 are very ready to call in physicians, and do not pretend to 
 understand, as well as they" who have made physic their 
 study, the nature and cure of diseases. But where it 
 strictly true, that the. polite people of our age are so wise, 
 that they are not like to hear anything new, nor any known 
 truth set in a new light by any preacher ; still is it not an 
 advantage to have a set of good thoughts, which lay dor- 
 mant in the mind, excited and called up to the attention 
 of the understanding, by an elegant and judicious dis- 
 course ? Were there likewise nothing in this, what public- 
 spirited person would not even go out of his way tor the 
 sake of setting a good example before the young and lg- 
 
372 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 norant who want instruction, if he does not. But when 
 al) is said, here is no pretence for neglecting the public 
 worship of God, which is one principal end of religious 
 asbi mblies. So that those, who habitually throw contempt 
 upon this part of duty, are evidently guilty of a breach of 
 common decency and natural religion, and are altogether 
 without excuse. 
 
 If public worship, in which the inhabitants of a whole 
 quarter join together, be reasonable, it seems as much so, 
 that families should set apart stated times daily for that 
 purpose. We are social beings, and oiujlit to be social 
 in all things that are commendable. And if heads of fam- 
 ilies are in reason obliged to take care that their children 
 and dependants have opportunity of consulting the inter- 
 est of a future life, and of being led by example, or mo- 
 ved by authority, to the observance of their duty ; it is 
 obvious, that in this important one of worshipping God, 
 persons in stations of authority and example, ought by 
 no means to be wanting, lest the failures, (through their 
 bad example) of those over whom they have had charge, 
 be hereafter justly imputed to their negligence. 
 
 The usual excuses for the neglect of family-religion 
 made even by many who do not deny its usefulness and 
 propriety, are, want of time ; and a certain foolish reluct- 
 ancy at performing the duty of addressing their Creator 
 in presence of others. As to the former, there is no well- 
 regulated house, in which the family cannot be called to- 
 gether for half an hour before the business, or the pleasure 
 of the day comes on, to address their Creator for his bles- 
 sing and favour through the day ; and the same at night, 
 to join in thanking him for the mercies of the day. That 
 tinw must be employed in some way different from what 
 ha be i yet heard of, which is applied better than to the 
 sen <.c. of God. If we can find time for eating, drinking, 
 dressing, merchandizing, or cards ; to pretend to want 
 time for worshipping God is monstrous ! 
 
 As for the other objection against keeping up the wor- 
 ship of God in families, it is almost too frivolous to deserve 
 any answer at all. Surely nothing is easier, than to choose 
 out a few proper passages from Scripture, or with the help 
 of the common-prayer of the church, and other books of 
 devotion almost innumerable, to compile a set of devo- 
 
 
OF VIRTUE. 373 
 
 lions suited to the use of a family, and for the master of 
 the house, kneeling or standing, with his children and do- 
 mestics about him, to pronounce them with proper devo- 
 tion, the rest joining mentally, or with a low voice, in 
 every petition. 
 
 If any master of a family chooses to compose a set of 
 devotions for his own use, 'i will only mention one direc- 
 tion, which might render them more useful, than they 
 could otherwise be: It is, that in them, the moral virtues, 
 or duties of temperance, benevolence, and piety, might be 
 so worked into the petitions, that, in praying for the Di- 
 vine Grace and Assistance to perform their duty, they 
 should be led to reflect upon it, and put in mind to ex- 
 amine themselves whether they make conscience of per- 
 forming it. Bv this means the daily devoiions in the fam- 
 ily might partlv answer the end of homilies or instructions. 
 
 Who does not see, that the natural consequences of 
 such an economy, constantly kept up in houses, are likely 
 to be the promoting of fidelity in domestics, obedience 
 in children, and drawing down the Divine blessing upon 
 families ; and, on the contrary, th it a society, in which no 
 regard is shown to the Supreme Being, is not likely to be 
 blest with the Divine favour or protection ? 
 
 That all devotions in which others are joined with the 
 person, who utters them^ even in a private family, are bet- 
 ter pre-composed than spoken extempore, seems to me 
 verv clear. There are extremely few, even among men 
 of the best abilities, who are capable of uttering fluently, 
 and without hesitation, tautology, or some kind of impro- 
 priety, an unstudied speech of any length. And that a 
 speech made in public to God himself, should be ill-di- 
 gested, must be owned to be very gross. For it is evi- 
 dent, that in such a case, the speaker, instead of leading 
 along with him the devotion of his hearers, must confound 
 and distract it. And it seems enough in any reason, that 
 the speaker have the manner, and delivery to attend to, 
 without his being obliged at the same time to study the 
 m atter. 
 
 The supplication of a single person by himself, is, in 
 my opinion, more properly presented in his own thoughts 
 or" words, than in those of any other ; though the reading 
 
374 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 of books of devotion are useful helps to those whose 
 thoughts want to be helped out. 
 
 What can be more rational, more sublime, or more dc- 
 lighttul, that for a dependent creature to raise his thoughts 
 to his Creator ! to fill his mind with a sense of the present 
 Divinity ! to pour forth his soul before Him who made 
 it *? What so great an honour can an humble mortal enjoy, 
 as to be allowed to speak to God? What exercise can the 
 rational soul engage in, so worthy the exertion of its no- 
 blest powers and faculties, as addressing the Majesty of 
 Heaven ? How can it, in this present state, approach so 
 near to the Author of its being, or rise to an enjoyment 
 so much resembling the beatic vision, as by this sub- 
 lime converse with the Omnipresent Deity ? To swell the 
 thought with the infinite greatness of the Object of wor- 
 ship ; to consider one's self as addressing that tremendous 
 Power, whose word produced the universe; to think that 
 one is going to prostrate his soul before Him who formed 
 it, who is to be its judge, and has the power of disposing 
 of it for eternity ! — What can be conceived so wonderfully 
 awful and striking? But to reflect, that the glorious object 
 of worship, though infinitely exalted above the adoration 
 of angels and archangels, is yet ready to hear, and bestow 
 happiness upon the meanest of his rational creatures ; to 
 think that the humble petition of the sincere penitent will 
 not be rejected ; that the poor and needy are no more be- 
 neath his notice, or out of the reach of his goodness, than 
 the rich and the mighty ; what can be more comfortable \ 
 If God is the awful Judge of mankind, he is also the 
 merciful Father of mankind. If his eye is too pure to 
 behold presumptuous vice without abhorrence, and too 
 piercing to be deceived by the most artful hypocrisy ; it 
 is also open to look with pit}- upon the prostrate mourner, 
 and his goodness ready to forgive the humble penitent what 
 he cannot forgive himself. 
 
 Be no longer, unthinking mortal, so much thy own 
 enemy as to exclude thyself from the highest honour thy 
 nature is capable of. Aspire to the sublime happiness of 
 conversing with thy Maker. Enlarge thy narrow mind 
 to take in the thought of Him for whom thou art made. 
 Call forth all that is within thee to magnify and praise Him. 
 Humble thyself to the dust, in the contemplation of his 
 
OF VIRTUE. 375 
 
 unequalled Majesty. Open the inmost recesses of thy 
 soul to Him who gave it being. Expose to Him, vyho 
 knows thy frame, thy weaknesses, and thy faults. Think 
 not to conceal or palliate them before that Eye which is 
 not to be deceived. Hast thou offended? Make no delay 
 to confess before thy Creator and thy Judge, what he al- 
 ready knows. Though he already knows thy folly, he 
 expects thy own confession of it, and that thou deprecate 
 his vengeance. Though he may already have thoughts of 
 mercv for thee, it is only on condition that thou humbly 
 emplore it, and by repentance and amendment show thy- 
 self worthy of it. Art thou weak and helpless ? If thou 
 knowest thyself, thou feelest it. Address thyself then to 
 Him who is almighty, that his power may support thee. 
 Art thou ignorant and short-sighted"? If thou dost not 
 think thyself so, thou art blind indeed. Apply then to 
 Him, whose knowledge is infinite, that thou mayest be 
 wise in his wisdom. Art thou in want of all things? If 
 thou thinkest otherwise, thou art wretched indeed. Have 
 recourse then to him who is the Lord of all things, and is 
 possessed of inexhaustible riches. If thou hast a just 
 sense of thy own state, if thou hast proper conceptions of 
 thy Creator and Judge, or if thou hast a soul capable of 
 any thought worthy the dignity of a reasonable immortal 
 nature, thou wilt make it thy greatest delight to worship 
 and adore Him, whom to serve is the glory of the bright- 
 est seraph in the celestial regions. 
 
 A numerous assembly of people, celebrating with grate- 
 ful hearts the praises of their Almighty Creator and Boun- 
 tiful Benefactor, may be for any thing we can conceive, 
 one of the best emblems of some part of the future em- 
 plovment and happiness of immortal spirits, which the 
 present state can exhibit. It were well, if we could by 
 the mere force of cool reason, so elevate our conceptions 
 of the Divinity, as worthily to magnify him in our public 
 assemblies. But so long as we continue the mechanical 
 beings we are, we must be willing to use all possible helps 
 for working ourselves up to what our imperfect faculties ol 
 themselves are not, generally speaking, equal to, or how- 
 ever, are not at all times in a condition for. Whoever un- 
 derstands human nature, knows of what consequence asso- 
 ciations are. And it is wholly owing to the infirmities of 
 
376 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 our nature and present state, that a due regard to decenci' 
 and solemnity in public worship is of such importance to. 
 wards our moral improvement. Considering these things 
 it is with concern I must observe upon the manner of per-' 
 forming the solemn office of praising God in our public as- 
 semblies that it very much wants reformation. I know of 
 no application of music to this sublime use, that is not 
 sadly deficient, except what is composed in the manner of 
 anthems. For as in every piece of sacred poesy there 
 are various and very different tastes, and strains, it is evi- 
 dent, that to apply the same returning set of notes to all 
 alike is inconsistent, and not expressive of the sense and 
 spirit of the piece. The eighteenth Psalm, for example, 
 is one of the noblest hymns in Hoh Scripture. From the 
 beginning to the fourth verse, the royal author expresses 
 his, or the Messiah's joy and gratitude for his deliverance 
 from his enemies. It is evident, that the music, which is to 
 accompany this part of the piece, ought to be bold, cheerful, 
 and triumphant : else it will disguise and misrepresent the 
 thoughts, instead of expressing them. The fourth and 
 Mth verses express the Psalmist's, or Messiah's, dreadful 
 distress, by the cruelty of wicked men, or evil spirits. It 
 is plain, that the triumphant strains of music, which suited 
 the former part, are not at all proper to express this; but 
 that on the contrary, it requires a set of the most dreary 
 and hornd sounds which music can utter. The sixth verse 
 represents the Sacred Writer's, or Messiah's, complaint 
 in his great distress. To express this suitably, neither of 
 the former pieces of melodv is proper ; but a set of mel- 
 ancholy and plaintive notes. The seventh, and some of the 
 following verses, give an account of the Divine appear- 
 ance m answer to the foregoing prayer, attended with 
 earthquakes, tempests, lightnings, and all the terrors of 
 Omnipotence. Every one of which images ought to fcw 
 represented by a strain of music, properly adapted to the 
 sense, in taste and expression. But chatmt this whole 
 piece, as is done at cathedral churches, or to sing it, as at 
 parish churches, and meetings, to the same set of 'notes, 
 returning through excry succeeding verse, is not perform- 
 ing the piece so well as if the preacher were to read it to 
 the people. For a person of a good elocution, would ut- 
 ter it m such a manner, as at least should not disguise or 
 
OF VIRTUE. 377 
 
 misrepresent the sense, as is the effect of applying to it un- 
 suitable, or bad music, which is worse than none. But, 
 to those, who find proper sentiments excited in their 
 minds by the more imperfect ways of performing the Di- 
 vine praises, I have nothing to say, to lessen the satisfaction 
 they have. I only would show what is the most effectual 
 and perfect way of applying music to religious purposes. 
 And, after all, a proper disposition of mind is the principal 
 thing, without which no bodily service can be acceptable 
 to Infinite Purity. 
 
 To conclude — it is evident, that our duty to our Creator 
 is, as above observed, the most important, and noblest part 
 of what we ought to study and practise, in order to attain 
 the true Diarnitv of Human Nature. For that Infinite Be- 
 ing, by whom, and for whom we are, though in his essence 
 invisible, in his nature incomprehensible, in his perfections 
 inconceivable, does yet present himself to all otir percep- 
 tions, bodily and mental. Every object we behold, every 
 sound we hear, every bodily substance we touch, every 
 subject of thought, must be either himself, or the work of 
 his power. Our senses, whenever we exert them, are em- 
 ployed upon some creature of Omnipotence ; and when 
 the mind abstracts itself from all the bodily operations, 
 even then it apprehends, it sees, it feels, the sustaining, 
 informing, and invigorating power within it. It finds it- 
 self surrounded with the immensity of Divinity, and that 
 itself and all things are established on that universal basis 
 of existence ; that all things are full of Deity ; and that his 
 presence is the Mind within the mind. 
 
 How amazing then the stupidity of numbers of the hu- 
 man species ! An order of beings formed with a capacity 
 for apprehending the Creator and Governor of the uni- 
 verse ; for contemplating the most delightful and most 
 striking of all subjects ; for having their minds enlarged 
 and ennobled by being habituated to the grand ideas of 
 immensity, of wisdom, goodness, power, and glory un- 
 bounded and unlimited ! Yet how do numbers of them 
 pass through life, without ever endeavouring to form any 
 just notions of that Being, on whom they depend for their 
 very existence ; without ever thinking of any duty they 
 may owe him, or any consequence of gaining or losing his 
 favour ! What stupendous glories, what wondrous per- 
 
 "3 B 
 
378 OT VIRTUE. 
 
 lections, what sublime contemplations, are lost to the gross- 
 and insensible minds of many of our species! How is the 
 only Being, who possesses existence in himself, over- 
 looked by those whom he himself has brought into being ? 
 How does He, by whom all things exist, seem to such in- 
 considerate minds not to exist ! How do the glories of his 
 works, which were intended to point him out, conceal from 
 such unthinking minds the glorious Maker ! How do such 
 ungrateful men basely take up with the gifts, without 
 thinking on the All-bounteous Giver ! How much are 
 those men of gross and earthly dispositions their own en- 
 emies ! How do they strive to feed their heaven-born minds 
 with the unsatisfying and nauseous objects of sense ; de- 
 priving them of that sublime entertainment, for which they 
 were intended, and which is ever offering itself to them, 
 the contemplation and enjoyment of Divinity, the posses- 
 sion of infinite perfection ! Open thy narrow mind un- 
 thinking mortal. Enlarge thy confined desires. Raise 
 thy groveling ambition. Quit the trifling objects which 
 now possess and which will in the end disappoint thee. 
 Trample under thy feet the wretched amusements of 
 riches, honours, and pleasures ; and aspire to what is 
 worthy the dignity of thy nature, and thy Divine Original. 
 It is thy Maker himself that is ready to take possession of 
 thy mind. It is the Divinity himself, that would pour 
 into thy soul delights ineffable, that would dwell in thee, 
 and join thee to himself in an eternal union, which will 
 raise thee to bliss and glory above thy most extensive 
 wishes, beyond thy most elevated conceptions. 
 
 SECTION IX. 
 
 Miscellaneous Thoughts, and Directions, chiefly Moral, 
 
 IF the reader should find, among the following apho- 
 risms, some thoughts to much the same purpose with 
 others, in other parts of this work; it is hoped, he will ex- 
 cuse such a repetition in consideration of the variety of 
 matter, and the usefulness of the subjects, which will 
 bear being inculcated in the most copious manner. 
 
 It is not the part of a wise man to be eager after any 
 thing, but improvement in goodness. All things else 
 may be dispensed with. 
 
OF VIRTUE. 379 
 
 To learn to talk well, learn first to hear. 
 
 Resist vice at the beginning, and you will conquer it in 
 
 the end. 
 
 A clear conscience is better than a clear estate. 
 
 Never think a thought, speak a word, or do a deed, but 
 what you may l>e sale in setting about with the following 
 preface. " 6 God my Maker and Judge, I do not for- 
 get, that thou art witness to what I am about." 
 
 Has not fashion a considerable share in the charities of 
 the age? Let every one, who gives, carefully consider 
 from what motives he acts. 
 
 If you have a well-disposed mind, you will go into no 
 company more agreeable, or more useful, than your own. 
 All is not well with those to whom solitude is disagree, 
 able. 
 
 It is no shame to learn. The shame is to be ignorant. 
 
 Forgive every body rather than yourself. 
 
 If you have health, a competency, and a good con- 
 science, what would you have besides? Something to 
 disturb your happiness ? 
 
 To expect, young man, that your life should be one 
 continued series of pleasure, is to expect to meet with 
 what no mortal, from Adam down to the present times, 
 has yet met with ; and what by the nature of things would 
 be more strange, than the throwing the same number with 
 a die ten millions of times successively. 
 
 When you hear in company, or read in a pamphlet, 
 somewhat smart and lively, and quite new to you, urged 
 against any opinion, or maxim allowed by men of the 
 freest sentiments, and most improved understandings ; do 
 not let yourself be immediately perverted by it. But 
 suppose, that, though it may be new to you, it may have 
 been often started and answered ; and though you cannot 
 at once confute it, others can. And make it your business, 
 if the point be of consequence, to find out those, who can. 
 Nothing is more weak, than to be staggered in your opin- 
 ion by every trifle that may fall in your way. 
 
 Accustom yourself to think the greatest part of your 
 life already past ; contract your views and schemes, and set 
 light by a vain and transitory state, and all its vain enjoy- 
 ments. 
 
 To feel old age coming on, will so little mortify a wise 
 
380 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 man, that he can think of it with pleasure ; as the decay 
 of nature shows him that the happy change of state, for 
 which, he has been all his life preparing himself, is draw- 
 ing nearer. And surely it must be desirable, to find him- 
 seif draw nearer to the end and the reward of his labours. 
 The case of an old man, who has no comfortable prospect 
 for futurity, and finds the fatal hour approaching which is 
 to deprive him of all his happiness ; is too deplorable for 
 any w ords to represent. 
 
 It is easy to live well among good people. But show me 
 the man, who can preserve his temper, his wisdom, and 
 his virtue, in spite of strong temptations and universal ex- 
 ample. 
 
 It is hardly credible what acquisitions in knowledge one 
 may make, by carefully husbanding and properly apply- 
 ing every spare moment. 
 
 Are you content to be for ever undone, if you should 
 happen not to live till the time you have set for repent- 
 ance? If so, put it off a little longer, and take your 
 chance. 
 
 It is a shame, if any person poorer than you is more 
 contented than you. 
 
 Strive to excel in what is truly noble. Mediocrity is 
 contemptible. 
 
 Judge of books, as of men. There is none wholly 
 faultless, orperftct. That production may be said to be 
 a valuable one, by the perusal of which a judicious reader 
 may be the wiser and better ; and is not to be despised 
 for a few deficiencies, or inconsistencies. 
 
 Do not think of lying for the truth, or working the works 
 of the devil for God's sake. 
 
 Honesty sometimes fails : But it is because diligence 
 or abilities are wanting. Otherwise it is naturally by far 
 an overmatch for cunning. 
 
 A bad reputation will lie a stumbling-block in your 
 way to rising in life, and will disable you from doing good 
 to others. 
 
 If ever you was dangerously ill, what fault or folly lay 
 heaviest upon your mind "? Take care to root it out, with- 
 out delay, and without mercy. 
 
 An unjust acquisition is like a barbed arrow, that must 
 
 
OF VIRTUE. 381 
 
 be drawn backward vJth horrible anguish ; else it will be 
 your destruction. 
 
 To excel greatly in music, drawing, dancing, the pedan- 
 tic parts of learning, play, and other accomplishments, 
 rather ornamental than useful, is beneath a gentleman, i nd 
 shows, that to acquire such perfection in trifles, he must 
 have employed himself in a way unworthy the dignity of 
 his station. The peculiar accomplishments, in which a 
 man of rank ought to shine, are knowledge of the world, 
 acquired by history, travel, conversation, and business ; 
 of the constitution," interest, and the laws of his country; 
 and of morals and religion ; without excluding such a com- 
 petent understanding of other subjects, as may be con- 
 sistent with a perfect mastery of the accomplishments 
 which make the gentleman's proper calling. 
 
 The meanest spirit may bear a slight affliction. And 
 in bearing a great calamity, there is great glory, and a 
 great reward. 
 
 A wise man will improve by studying his own past fol- 
 lies. For every slip will discover some weakness still 
 uncorrected, which occasioned his misbehaviour; and will 
 set him upon effectually redressing every failure. 
 
 There is somewhat arch in the Roman Catholics putting 
 their carnivals before lent. Mirth is generally the pre- 
 lude of repentance. 
 
 To be drawn into a fault, shows human frailty. To be 
 habitually guilty of /oily, shows a corrupt mind. To love 
 vice in others is the spirit of a devil, rather than a man ; 
 being the pure, disinterested love of vice ? for its own sake. 
 Yet there are such characters ! 
 
 Remember, your bottle-companions will not bear you 
 company at your death ; nor lighten your sentence at the 
 dreadful day of judgment. Let the vicious therefore go 
 alone at present; since their company may heighten, but 
 will not abate your punishment. 
 
 Proofs of genuine repentance are, abstaining from all 
 temptations to the same vice, thorough reformation, and 
 all possible reparation. 
 
 Take care of those vices which resemble virtues. 
 
 To abuse the poor for his poverty, is to insult God's 
 providence. 
 
 Seek virtue rather than riches. You may be sure to 
 
382 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 acquire the first, but cannot promise for the latter No 
 one can rob you of the first without vour consent • vou 
 may be deprived of the latter a hundred ways. The first 
 will gam you the esteem of all good and wise men • the 
 fetter wji] ge t you flatterers enough ; but not one real friend, 
 llie first will abide by you forever; the latter will leave 
 you at death, to shift as you can for eternity. 
 
 Moral truths are as certain as mathematical. It is as 
 pertain that good is not evil, nor evil good, as that a part 
 is less than the whole, or that a circle is not a triangle 
 
 What matter what you know, if you do not know your- 
 self ? J 
 
 It is pity that most people overdo either the active or 
 contemplative part of life. To be continually immersed 
 m business, is the way to become forgetful of every thine 
 truly noble and liberal. To be wholly engaged in study 
 is to lose a great part of the usefulness of a social nature 
 How much better would it be, if people would temper 
 action with contemplation, and use action as a relief to 
 study ? 
 
 You may easily know, whether you are in earnest about 
 reforming, and living virtuously." If you be, you will 
 tly from every temptation to vice, and carefullv pursue 
 even help to virtue. As you may know whether Vou love 
 money by observing, whether you carefully pursue the 
 means for getting, and cautiously avoid occasions of ex- 
 pense or loss. 
 
 Never force nature. When study becomes a burden 
 give it over for that time. You will not improve by it 
 it it goes against the grain. 
 
 Preserve, if you can, the esteem of the wise and good. 
 But more especially your own. Consider how deplorable 
 a condition of mind you will be in, when your conscience 
 tells you, you are a villain. 
 
 It is not eating a great quantity of food that nourishes 
 most : Nor devouring of books that gives solid knowledge. 
 It is what you digest, that feeds both body and mind. Have 
 your learning m your head, and not in vour library. 
 
 You had better find out one of your own weaknesses, 
 than ten of your neighbours'. 
 
 There is only one single object you ought to pursue, at 
 all adventures; that is virtue : All other things are to be 
 
OF VIRTUE. 383 
 
 sought conditionally. What sort of man must he be, who 
 resolves to be rich or great at any rate ? 
 
 If you give only with a view to the gratitude of those you 
 oblige, you deserve to meet with ingratitude. If you give 
 from truly disinterested motives, you will not be discour- 
 aged or tired out by the worst returns. 
 
 Rather be the bubble, than the biter. 
 
 Do your duty, if the world should laugh. Obedience to 
 the Almighty Governor of the universe, is what one would 
 hardly think should draw ridicule upon a man. But, how- 
 ever, if men will be so absurd as to laugh at you for what is 
 your greatest wisdom ; wait patiently the final issue, and 
 then it will be seen who acted the ridiculous part. 
 
 If it should be hard to do your duty, it is evidently not 
 impossible. To mention none of the christian heroes, 
 there is not a virtue which the heathens have not shown 
 to be practicable. Do not pretend that a christian cannot 
 be chaste, when you know that a young Scipio bravely 
 resisted a most powerful temptation of that kind, in yield- 
 ing to which he would have acted only according to the 
 custom of those times. Do not pretend that it is impos- 
 sible for a christian to forgive injuries, when you know, 
 that Phocian, going to suffer death unjustly, charged it 
 upon his son, with his last breath that he should show no 
 resentment against his father's persecutors. Do not excuse 
 yourself in giving up the truth, through fear of offending 
 those on whom you depend, when you know that Attll'ius 
 Regulus gave himself up to tortures, and death, rather 
 than falsify his word even to his enemies. Let it not be. 
 said that a christian, with his clear views of an over-rul- 
 ing Providence, shall be overcome with affliction, or im- 
 piously murmur against the great Disposer of all things, 
 when we find an Epictetus, sunk in misery and slavery, 
 vindicating the Divine disposal of himself, and subduing 
 his mind to the dispensations of Providence. Do not ex- 
 cuse yourself from a little expense, trouble, or hazard of 
 ill-will, for the general good, when you know that a Le- 
 onidasy a Calpurnius Fiamma, the Decii, and hundreds 
 more, voluntarily devoted themselves to destruction, to 
 save their country. If you pretend to be a christian, that 
 is, to profess the most pure and most sublime principles 
 
384 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 in the world, do not infamously fall short of the perfection 
 of unenlightened heathens. 
 
 If a temptation solicits, think whether you would yield 
 to it, if you knew you should die next day. 
 
 Be assured, whatever you may think now, when you 
 come to a death- bed, you will think you have given your- 
 self up too much to pleasures, and other worldly pursuits, 
 and be sorry that you had so large a share of them. 
 
 A good man has nothing to fear; A bad man every 
 thing. 
 
 It is not easy to keep the mean between temporizing 
 too much, and giving a proper testimony for decency and 
 virtue, when one sees them outraged. 
 
 Do not regard any person's opinion of you, against 
 your own knowledge. 
 
 Observe whether vice does not deform the most amia- 
 ble persons. 
 
 Custom will have the same effect, with respect to death 
 as to other frightful things ; it will take off its terror. 
 
 To understand a subject well, read a set of the best 
 authors upon it ; make an abstract of it ; and talk it over 
 with the judicious. 
 
 There are no little sins. 
 
 It is in any man's power to be contented ; of very few 
 to be rich. The first will infallibly make you happy ; 
 which is more than you can depend on from the latter. 
 
 He who begins soon to be good, is like to be very good 
 at last. 
 
 Take care not to go to the brink of vice, lest you fall 
 down the precipice. 
 
 If you have, or have not, a chance for happiness in the 
 next life, it cannot signify much how you pass the pre- 
 sent. Would you pity a person, who was obliged to 
 travel in bad weather, and put up with mean accommoda- 
 tions, as he was going to take possession of a fine estate ? 
 Or would you envy one, who had a pleasant day to go to 
 execution? 
 
 If you have the esteem of the wise and good, do not 
 trouble yourself about the rest. And if you have not 
 even that, let the approbation of a well informed conscience 
 make you easy in the mean while. Time will come, 
 when you mav command the other: I mean when vou 
 
OF VIRTUE. 385 
 
 have had the public approbation of an infallible Judge 
 before angeis and men. 
 
 A good man gets good out of evil. A wicked man 
 turns good to evil. 
 
 Fashion ought to have no weight in matters of any 
 greater consequence than the cut of a coat or a cap. Num- 
 bers do not alter right and wrong. If it should be the 
 fashion of this world to act foolishly and wickedly, depend 
 on it, the fashion of the next will be, for virtue to be 
 rewarded and vice to be punished. 
 
 If you can find a place, where you may be hid from 
 God, and your conscience, do there what you will. 
 
 Obedience is rhe great lesson to be taught children. It 
 is what the All- wise Teacher would bring mankind to. 
 
 If you act only with a view to praise, you deserve 
 none. 
 
 Listen to conscience, and it will tell you, whether you 
 really do as you would be done by. 
 
 Virtue in theory only is not virtue. 
 
 That bad habits are not quite unconquerable, is evident 
 from Demosthenes, Cicero, and many others. But that 
 they are very troublesome to deal with, and grow always 
 stronger and stronger, universal experience proves too 
 sufficiently. 
 
 Do not deceive yourself: The true preparation for 
 death, is not living at random to threescore, and then retir- 
 ing from the world, and giving up a few of the last years 
 of life to prayer and repentance: But cultivating in your 
 mind, from the beginning, the substantial virtues, which 
 are the true ornaments of a worthy character, and which 
 naturally fit it for endless happiness. 
 
 He only is truly virtuous, who would be so, if he had 
 no prospect of gaining more happiness by virtue than vice: 
 though at the same time, it is reasonable, and commend- 
 able, to have a due respect to the recompence of reward, as 
 things are at present constituted. 
 
 The lot of mankind, upon an average, is wonderfully 
 equal. The distribution of happiness is not so irregular, 
 as appears at first view. There cannot indeed be any 
 great inequality in the distribution of what is so inconsider- 
 able as the temporal happiness enjoyed by mankind. 
 
 3 C 
 
586 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 The contented, retired, and virtuous man has the best 
 share. 
 
 Who could imagine it possible to forget death, which 
 every object puts one in mind of, and every moment brings 
 nearer ? 
 
 What a strange condition a man must be in, whose 
 judgment and practice are at variance. If a man does 
 not perfectly agree with his wife, they can sometimes 
 avoid one another's company, and so be easy. But can 
 one run away from himself? 
 
 Of all virtues, patience is oftenest wanted. How 
 unhappy must he be, who is wholly unfurnished with 
 what is wanted every moment? 
 
 He who endeavours to drown thought, and stifle co^ 
 science, or who goes on in expensive living, without lo 
 ing into his affairs, is about as wise, as he who should shut 
 his eyes, and then run towards the precipice, as if his not 
 seeing the danger would annihilate it. 
 
 That the ways of virtue are preferable to those of vice, 
 is evident, in that we do not find people in old age, sick- 
 ness, or on a death-bed, repenting, that they have lived too 
 virtuously ; but the contrary. This is a general confession 
 from mankind, and at a time when they certainly are sin- 
 cere. And they would give the same testimony to vir- 
 tue at other times, if they could disengage themselves 
 from the prejudices and passions, which blind them. 
 
 A good man, when he comes to die, has nothing to do, 
 but to die. 
 
 Perhaps no created nature could be happy, without 
 having experienced the contrast of unhappiness. 
 
 As no character is more venerable, than that of a wise 
 old man ; so none is more contemptible than that of an 
 old fool. 
 
 It makes wretched work when the married pair come to 
 disputing about privileges and superiority. 
 
 There is nothing more foolish than for those to fall out, 
 who must live together, as husband and wife, and such 
 near relations. But there is no falling out without folly 
 on one side, or the other, or both. 
 
 The folly of some people in conversation, is beneath 
 criticism. The only way of answering them, is to go out 
 of bearing. 
 
OF VIRTUE. 387 
 
 Consider with yourself, whether the wise and good 
 would value you more or less, than they do now, if they 
 knew your whole character. 
 
 It is well when old people know that they are old. 
 Many, on the contrary, still affect to stt themselves oft' as 
 unimpaired inabilities both bodily and mental, long enough 
 after they had outlived themselves. 
 
 It is necessary often to find fault. And the only way to 
 do it, so as to be regarded, is to keep up your own digni- 
 ty. A master who blusters and swears at his servant, is 
 despised ; while he, who reproves with mildness and gra- 
 vity, is likely to be reverenced and obeyed. 
 
 What embitters the common accidents of life to most 
 people is, their entertaining a foolish notion, that calami- 
 ties are unnatural, and that we have a right to the plea- 
 sures of life. Whereas the true state of the case is, that 
 affliction is what we greatly need, and richly deserve, and 
 that the pleasures of life are the mere gift of God, which 
 therefore he may withhold, or bestow, as he sees fit. 
 
 The use of reading is, to settle your judgment ; not to 
 confound it by a variety of opinions, nor to enslave it by 
 authority. 
 
 If you will not listen to calm reason, take care lest you 
 be made to feel the rod of severe affliction. If God loves 
 you he will drive you from your follies, if you will be 
 drawn from them. 
 
 If you are ever so sure that you ought to resent an in- 
 jury, at least put off your resentment till you cool. You 
 will gain every end better by that means, and can lose 
 nothing by going cautiously and deliberately to work ; 
 whereas you may do yourself, or your neighbour, great 
 mischief, by proceeding rashly and hastily. 
 
 If you find you cannot hold your own with the world, 
 without making shipwreck of conscience and integrity ; 
 retire in time with a stock of honesty, rather than continue 
 in business to retire at last with a stock of wealth, 
 which will not yield you happiness when your integrity is 
 gone. 
 
 The giver is the creditor ; the receiver the debtor. Had 
 you not better be die former than the latter ? 
 
 Married people ought to consider, that the keeping up 
 of mutual Jove and peace is of more consequence than any 
 
388 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 point, which either the one or the other can want to gain, 
 where life or fortune are not engaged. Let the husband 
 consider, that it suits his superior wisdom to yield to the 
 weaker in ordinary cases. Let the wife remember she 
 solemnly promised to obey. 
 
 The devil is feared and hated. 
 
 The consciousness of having acted from principle, and 
 without the praise or privity of any person whatever, is a 
 pleasure superior to all that applause can yield. 
 
 Why do you desire riches and grandeur? Because you 
 think they will bring happiness with them. The very 
 thing you want is now in your power. You have only to 
 study contentment. 
 
 Don't be frighted if misfortune stalks into your humble 
 habitation. She sometimes takes the liberty of walking 
 into the presence chamber of kings. 
 
 Be open with prudence. Be artful with innocence : 
 Wise as the serpent, harmless as the dove. If either of 
 these two qualities must predominate, by all means let it 
 be the latter. 
 
 It is a shameful wickedness, common in trade, to con- 
 ceal the faults, or artfully heighten the good qualities of 
 what one wants to sell, or to disparage any article one has 
 a mind to buy, in order to have it the cheaper. That tra- 
 der, who cannot lay his hand upon his heart, and say, God, 
 who knows all things, knows 1 use my neighbour as I 
 would wish to be used, is no other, in plain English, than 
 a downright knave. 
 
 To love a woman merely for her beauty, is loving a 
 corpse for the sake of its being covered with a fair skin. 
 If the lovely body has a bad soul in it, it becomes then an 
 object of aversion, not of affection. 
 
 Never think yourself out of danger of a disorder of 
 body by sickness, or of the mind by passion. 
 
 Those who have not courage to resist fashion, would ill 
 resist tortures. 
 
 j Nothing can materially hurt you, but what hurts your 
 virtue. 
 
 When we hear of one dead suddenly, we are surprised. 
 Whereas the greater wonder is that "a machine of sueh 
 frail materials, and exquisite workmanship, as the human 
 body is should hold in motion for an hour together. 
 
OF VIRTUE. 389 
 
 Let a man consider what the general turn of his thoughts 
 is. It is that which characterises the man. He who 
 thinks oftenest, and dwells longest on worldly things, is 
 an earthly man. He whose mind is habitually employed in 
 divine contemplation, is a heavenly man. 
 
 Absolute resignation to the Divine disposal, teaches 
 neither, to desire to live nor to die. 
 
 In proportion to the grief and shame which a bad action 
 would have caused you, such will be your joy and triumph 
 on reflecting that you have bravely resisted the temptation. 
 
 Are not the great, happiest when most free of the incum- 
 brances of greatness ? Is there any happiness in greatness ? 
 
 Forgive others who have fallen, and be on your guard 
 lest you yourself fall. The angels in heaven, and the 
 first of our species in innocence have fallen. 
 
 The hand of time heals all diseases. Human nature 
 cannot long continue in violent anger, grief, or distress of 
 any kind. Spare yourself immoderate uneasiness. The 
 time will come, when. all these things which now engage 
 you so much, will be, as if they never had been ; except 
 your own character for virtue or vice. 
 
 If you live such a life, that you may be able, upon 
 rational grounds, to be patient at the last hour, when y out- 
 near friends lose all patience, you will show yourself a 
 true hero. 
 
 Don't be uneasy if you cannot master all science. You 
 may easily know enough to be good and happy. 
 
 He who suffers lust to steal away his youth, ambition 
 his manhood, and avarice his old age, may lament too 
 late, the shortness of the useful part of his life. 
 
 If you have a family, it is no more allowable, that you 
 squander, away yoursubstance, than for a steward to embez- 
 zle the state of which he is manager. You are appointed 
 steward to your children ; and if you neglect to provide 
 for them, be it at your peril. 
 
 A truly great mind, from mere reverence for itself, 
 would not descend to think a base thought, if it was never 
 to be known to God or man. 
 
 This book is not likely to be read by any, whose station 
 in life is not such, that thousands and millions of mankind 
 would think worthy of envy. It will then be very strange, 
 i f it should be read by any discontented person. 
 
390 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 lie that has no shame, has no grace. 
 
 Before you think of retiring from the world, be sure 
 that you are fit for retirement. In order to which, it is 
 necessary that you have a mind so composed by prudence, 
 reason, and religion, that it may bear being looked into! 
 a turn to rural life ; and a love for study. 
 
 He who is free from any immediate distress, and cannot 
 be happy now, it is in vain for him to think he ever shall, 
 unless he changes the temper of his mind, which is what 
 hinders his happiness at present. 
 
 Do not grieve for him who is departed out of a trouble- 
 some and dangerous state into a better. If a relation, or 
 nn acquaintance, is gone into the other world, wholly 
 unprepared for it, his case is truly lamentable. 
 
 The advantage our passions have over us, is owing to 
 ourselves. We may easily gain such a knowledge oi our 
 own weakness, as to feel them rising before thev be got to 
 the height : And it is our own fault if we do not restrain 
 them in time. 
 
 The most violent shaking will no shake the limpid water 
 in a glass muddy : But a little disturbance will defile that 
 m the well, or river. If it were not for the impurity of the 
 mind itself, the shock of temptation would have no effect. 
 
 VV hoever knows his own weaknesses, and has the sense 
 to endeavour to get rid of them, will find himself as fully 
 employed, m his own mind, as a physician in an hospital. 
 
 It may not be in your power to excel manv people in 
 riches, honours, or abilities : But vou may excel thou- 
 sands m what is incomparablv more valuable, I mean sub- 
 stantml goodness of heart and life. Hither turn your 
 ambitiom Here is an object worthy of it. 
 
 Nothing is of any value to vou that you make a bad 
 use of. 
 
 You cannot, you say, find time to examine yourself, 
 whether you are prepared for death. It is no matter, you 
 must find time to die. 
 
 It is no matter what you spend your life in, if you 
 neglect the very business of life. 
 
 You may acquire great knowledge, and be the worse 
 for it at last; 
 
 Don't think of giving a shilling, while vou owe a pound. 
 bhall hypocrisy get footing among christians ? And 
 
 
OF VIRTUE. 391 
 
 shall a heathen have the character of having rather desir- 
 ed to be virtuous than'to be thought so? 
 
 I know no sight more nauseous than that of a fond hus- 
 band and wife, who have not the sense to behave properly 
 to one another before company : Nor any conversation 
 more shocking than that of a snarling couple, who are 
 continually girding at. one another. 
 
 Consider how uncommon it is to live to old age : and 
 take care to hold yourself in constant readiness for death. 
 
 The unthinking bulk of mankind are ever amusing 
 themselves with some pursuit foreign to themselves. A 
 wise man is ever looking inward. 
 
 It is no wonder if he who reads, converses and medi- 
 tates, improves in knowledge. By the first, a man con- 
 verses with the dead ; by the second, with the living ; and 
 by the third, with himself. So that he appropriates to 
 himself all the knowledge which can be got from those 
 who have lived, and from those now alive. 
 
 Let no man refuse a pardon to others, but he who does 
 not need it for himself. 
 
 A very ignorant man may have a very learned library. 
 A very learned man may be a very contemptible creature. 
 
 If it were safe to put off repentance and reformation to 
 the very last day of life, how do you know this is not it ? 
 
 Endeavour to do all the good in your power. Be as 
 active with prudence, as if you was sure of success. 
 When you meet a disappointment, let it not abate your 
 diligence, nor put you out of humour. And when you 
 have done all, remember you have only done your duty. 
 
 The Dutch will not suffer the smallest breach in their 
 dykes for fear of an inundation. Do not you suffer the 
 smallest passage for vice into your heart, lest you find 
 your virtue quite overflowed. 
 
 Do not be unhappy if you have not married a professed 
 beauty. They generally admire themselves so much they 
 have no love left for their husbands. Besides, it might 
 not perhaps have been very agreeable to you, to see every 
 fellow, as you went into public places, look at your wife, 
 as if he could devour her with his eyes. 
 
 Take no counsel with flesh and blood, if you aspire at 
 what is truly p-reat. 
 
 A foolish youth makes a crazy old age. 
 
SJ92 OF VIRTUE. 
 
 Take care of natural biasses, as self-love, pleasure, 
 &c. Be sure, you will always incline enough toward the 
 biass side. Therefore, you need have no guard upon 
 yourseif that way. 
 
 The angels are said in Scripture to desire to look into 
 the Christian scheme, as if to learn somewhat. Do not 
 vou then think it beneath you to learn, while vou are so 
 much inferior to them. The most knowing are the most 
 desirous of knowledge. The most virtuous the most 
 desirous oi improvement in virtue. On the contrary, the 
 ignorant think themselves wise enough ; the vicious are 
 in their own opinion good enough. 
 
 In bestirring yourself for the public advantage, remem- 
 ber, that if you should not accomplish all that you pro- 
 pose, you will however have employed yourself to good 
 purpose, and will not fail of your reward, if you should 
 of success. 
 
 Let no man complain of the shortness of life, but he 
 who can say he has never mispent one hour. 
 
 Make sure first, «and principally, of that knowledge, 
 which is necessary for you as a man, and a member of 
 society. Next, of what is necessary in your particular 
 way of life. Afterwards, improve yourself in all useful and 
 ornamental knowledge, as far as your capacity, leisure, 
 and fortune will allow. 
 
 If you would not have affliction visit you twice, listen 
 at once to what it teaches. 
 
 Never cast your eye upon a good man, without resolv- 
 ing to imitate him. Whenever you see an instance of vice 
 or folly in another, let it be a warning to you to avoid them. 
 
 Where is yesterday now ? With the years before the 
 flood. But if you have employed it well, it stands record- 
 ed above to your eternal honour and advantage. If you 
 Have mispent or neglected it, it will appear against you at 
 the last day. 
 
 Wouid you have one general universal remedy for all 
 diseases, study religion. The only rational ground for 
 consolation in the van jus distresses of life, is the consider- 
 ation, that religion proposes a positive reward for bearing 
 with dignity, and improving by affliction, and that afflic- 
 tions are in truth our « : igs and proofs of the 
 Divine favour. 
 
OF 4 VIRTUE. 393 
 
 If you unhappily fall into some fatal miscarriage, which 
 wounds your conscience, and makes your life a burden, 
 confess it, with all its circumstances, to some judicious 
 and tender-hearted person, in whose fidelity you can con* 
 fide, and whose advice may be of service to you. If it 
 be of such a peculiar nature, that you do not think it pru- 
 dent, to confess yourself guilty of such a thing, send a 
 full account of it, written in a disguised hand, desiring 
 an answer in writing. When you have the opinion of a 
 judicious person upon the heinousness of your crime> 
 which you may find you have either, through self-love 
 thought too slightly of, or through an excessive tenderness 
 of conscience, blamed yourself too much for, impress 
 your mind properly with a sense of your fault : humble 
 yourself deeply before God ; and resolve bravely no more 
 to be guilty of such folly. When you have done so, and 
 find you can keep to your resolutions, it is not necessary 
 that you continue to afflbt yourself without end for what 
 is irrecoverably past. The principal part of repentance 
 is reformation. 
 
 I know no way of laying out a few shillings to more 
 advantage, either for profit or pleasure, than upon an enter- 
 taining and instructing book. But this expence is greatly 
 overdone by some, and ill laid out by others. 
 
 While you are unhappy because your tailor has not cut 
 your coat to your mind, many an honest man would be 
 glad to have one that would only keep out the cold, and 
 cannot. While you are in a passion with your cook, be- 
 cause he has spoiled you one dish among six, many a 
 poor family, who are fellow-creatures, and your fellow 
 Christians, are at a loss for bread to supply the wants of 
 nature. Think of this, and give over with shame your 
 foolish and impious complaints against that goodness of 
 Providence, which has placed you in circumstances so 
 much above persons of equal merit with yourself. 
 
 It is the unhappiness of human life, that in every man's 
 conduct there has alwavs been some miscarriage, or some 
 misfortune in his circumstances, which has prevented his 
 carrying his improvements in knowledge and virtue the 
 length which might have been wished or imagined. To 
 make the most of life, such a number of concurrences are ne- 
 cessary, that it is no wonder rhey seldom all fall to the share 
 
 3 D 
 
394, OF VIRTUE. 
 
 of any one person. Health, long life, fortune ; great and 
 various natural abilities, and a good disposition ; an ex- 
 tensive education, begun early ; indefatigable diligence to 
 carry on improvements; a set of acquaintance capable of 
 assisting in the pursuit of knowledge, and of encouraging 
 in virtue ; and happening to live in an age favourable to 
 freedom of inquiry. If we consider the improvements 
 some towering geniuses have made in knowledge, and the 
 lengths gone in exemplary virtue by many who have la- 
 boured under innumerable disadvantages, we cannot help 
 lamenting, that they were not favoured by Providence with 
 the others, nor imagining what immense heights they must 
 in some circumstances, have reached. The most remark- 
 able concurrence of all kinds of advantages that ever was ; 
 and the most stupendous effects in consequence of it, will 
 probably, as long as this world lasts, be the admiration and 
 delight of all who are judges of the sublime labours of the 
 greatest of philosophers, and best of men, the glory of our 
 country, and of Human Nature. Yet even in him (though 
 a sort of superior being, when compared with the rest of 
 the species,) it is possible to imagine some circumstances 
 different, and to the advantage. To what heights then 
 ma)- our nature rise in future states, when every possible 
 advantage shall concur ! 
 
 Do not pretend to neglect or trifle with your duty, un- 
 less you have found out unquestionable and demonstrative 
 proof, that the general sense of mankind in all ages and na- 
 tions, that virtue is the perfection of Human Nature, and 
 the sure way to happiness, and vice the contrary, is a gross 
 absurdity and falshood ; that the Bible is a forgery ; and 
 that the belief of a judgment to come is a dream. If you 
 be not as sure of all this, as that twice two are four, if there 
 be the smallest possibility that it may be otherwise, it is 
 the very desperation of madness to run the least hazard of 
 the destruction of your soul by living; a wicked life. 
 
 Death-bed repentance, and death-bed charity, are much 
 of a kind. Men give up their vices and their money 
 when they can keep them no longer. 
 
 . Can any person seriously think that he was formed ca- 
 pable of reason, virtue, and religion, only to eat, drink, 
 divert himself, and die ? 
 
 Accustom yourself to the strict observance of your duty 
 
OF VIRTUE. 395 
 
 in all respects, and it will in time be as troublesome to 
 omit, or to violate it, as it is to many people to practise it. 
 
 Study to grow every day wiser and better : For every 
 day brings you nearer to death. 
 
 It is strange to hear unthinking people descant upon the 
 actions of men of universally acknowledged abilities, and 
 to see them take it for granted, that they have acted a part 
 entirely inconsistent with their known characters ; which 
 people very rarely do, and which it is therefore very un- 
 reasonable to suppose. If you were told of a miser's 
 having done a generous thing, would you not be apt either 
 to doubt the fact, or to conclude, that it must have appear- 
 ed to him a likely way of getting somewhat ? If you were 
 told of a very passionate man's bearing an insult with ex- 
 emplary patience, would you not be surprised? Why then 
 should you rashly give into the belief, that a person, whose 
 good understanding you are apprized of, has played the 
 fool"? on one, whose integrity is known to you, has acted 
 a treacherous part ? Hearthe accused before you condemn. 
 
 Value learning as much as you please. But remem- 
 ber, a judicious thinker is incomparably superior to a great 
 reader. 
 
 What can be more monstrous than the common excu- 
 ses for unfaithfulness to the marriage -bed? People give 
 their vows to one another in the most solemn manner; 
 and then their first work is to think how to break them. 
 They marry for better for worse ; for richer or poorer, 
 younger or older ; handsomer or plainer. And then, when 
 they come to repent of their rash choice, they pretend to 
 excuse the breach of solemn vows by the pretext of de- 
 fects they find in one another ; of which it is wholly their 
 own fault if they were not sufficiently apprized before their 
 coming together. 
 
 To defeat calumny, 1. Despise it. To seem disturbed 
 about it, is the way to make it be believed. And scab- 
 bing your defamer will not prove you innocent. 2. Live 
 an exemplary life, and then your general good character 
 will overpower it. 3. Speak tenderly of every body, even 
 of your defamers, and you will make the whole world cry, 
 Shame on them who can find in their hearts to injure one 
 so inoffensive. 
 
 You say, your misfortunes are hard to bear. Your 
 
396 of virtue; 
 
 vices are likewise hard to be forgiven, It is terrible to 
 think of your suffering pain, sickness, poverty, or the 
 loss of dear friends or relations ? It is more terrible to 
 think of your having offended the infinitely great and 
 good Creator, Preserver, and Judge of the world, jour 
 kind and bountiful Father and best Friend. Is pain a great 
 evil ? Vice is a greater. It is rebellion against the Supreme 
 Authority of the universe. Is the loss of a beloved wife 
 like tearing limb from limb * So is falshood, cruelty, or 
 ingratitude, like unhinging the universe, and bringing 
 chaos back again : For they tend to universal disorder, 
 and the destruction of the creation of God. Do you shud- 
 der at the thought of poverty or disease ? Think with what 
 eye Infinite Purity must behold wickedness ? with what 
 abhorrence absolute Perfection must see the ruin produced 
 in his works by irregularity and vice. Do you desire to 
 escape misery ? Fly from sin. Do you wish to avoid 
 punishment? Above all things avoid wickedness, the cause 
 of it. 
 

 THE 
 
 DIGNITY 
 
 OF 
 
 HUMAN NATURE 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 X HAT it is in itself agreeable to rectitude, necessary 
 to the Dignity of Human Nature, and the Requisite con- 
 currence of moral agents with the general scheme of the 
 Governor of the universe, that we study above all things 
 to perform our whole duty, viz. Taking proper care of 
 our bodies and of our minds, loving our fellow creatures 
 as ourselves, and loving and serving our Creator ; that 
 this is our indispensable duty, and that the habitual neg- 
 lect, or violation of it, upon whatever pretence, will ex- 
 pose us to the Divine displeasure, as the conscientious 
 observance of it is most likely to gain us his favour, and 
 consequently final happiness ; all this appears clear to hu- 
 man reason, separate from any consideration of the truth 
 of revelation, and deducible from universally acknowl- 
 edged principles. — And if it may be supposed in the low- 
 est degree probable, that the kind and merciful Parent of 
 his creatures, who would have all men to be saved, and, 
 in a consistency with eternal and immutable rectitude, to 
 come to that happiness, of which their nature was formed 
 capable ; if it mav be conceived irt the lowest degree prob- 
 able, that God should from the beginning have ordered 
 
398 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 things so, that one method, among others, for promoting 
 universal goodness and happiness, should be, the appear- 
 ance of an express message, or revelation from himself, 
 with a set of clearer and more striking instructions, than 
 had been any other way communicated to mankind ; if 
 this be conceivable without any direct absurdity, then it 
 is likewise evident from the principles of natural religion 
 or reason, that it is the indispensable duty of all those- of 
 our species, to whom any such supposed Divine message 
 or revelation, may be offered, to bestow the utmost dili- 
 gence in examining its pretensions, and, if found sufficient, 
 to admit them with candor and sincerity of mind, and to 
 receive the revelation itself with that veneration and sub- 
 mission, which it becomes dependent creatures to express 
 to Him who sent it. 
 
 That there is nothing directly* absurd, or contradictory to 
 reason, in the supposition of the possibility of a revelation 
 given from God, for the reformation and improvement of 
 mankind, is evident from its having been the opinion 
 and the hope of the wisest and best of mankind, in all ages 
 and various nations. Socrates, Plato, Confucius, and 
 others, the bright and burning lights of antiquity, have 
 given their authority to the opinion of the probability of 
 a revelation from God. They have declared, that they 
 thought it an affair of great consequence to re- kindle the 
 light of reason, almost extinguished by vice and folly ; recal 
 a bewildered race of beings into the way of virtue, to teach 
 mankind, with certainty and authority, how they ought to 
 behave toward their Creator, so as to obtain his favour, 
 and the pardon of their offences. They who were the 
 best qualified of all uninspired men of those ancient times 
 for instructing mankind, were ready to own themselves 
 insufficient for the task of reforming the world. And 
 it is notorious, that their worthy labours were in no respect 
 adequate to the universal, or general amendment of man- 
 ners, even in the countries in which they lived and taught. 
 For that themselves greatly wanted instruction, appears 
 plait ly from what they have writ upon some of the most 
 important points of morals, as the immortality of the soul ; 
 the nature, degree, and continuance of the rewards and 
 puvlshments of the future state, ana '.he means of obtain- 
 ing *he pardon of sin. And that their lessons should have 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 399 
 
 any considerable or powerful influence upon the people in 
 general, was not to be expected, as they could at best but 
 give them as their opinions ; reasonable indeed, and clear 
 in the main, to any understanding, which should take the 
 trouble to examine ; but backed with no authoritative 
 sanction, or Divine attestation, to command attention and 
 obedience. 
 
 It is evident, that, as there can be, on one hand, no merit 
 in believing what is true, even religious truth, without 
 examination ; (for nothing is virtuous, or praise- worthy, 
 that is irrational ; and it is irrational to receive for truth 
 what one has no solid reason to think is true) so on the 
 other, to reject truth, especially religious truth, on any 
 indirect or disingenuous account, or for any reason, besides 
 some unsurmountable inconsistency in the doctrine, or de- 
 ficiency in the evidence, is perverse and wicked. The faith, 
 therefore, that is acceptable to God, who isalike the Author 
 of both reason and revelation, is that rational reception 
 of religious truth, which arises from candid and diligent 
 examination, and a due submission to Divine Authority. 
 And the unbelief, which is condemned in Scripture, is 
 that rejection of the revealed will of God, which is owing 
 to prejudice, negligence, pride, or a fatal attachment to 
 vice. 
 
 The guilt of wilfully rejecting or opposing Divine 
 truth must be more or less atrocious, according as the 
 advantges for inquiry, and satisfaction upon the subject, 
 are greater, or less. The inhabitants of the dark and bar- 
 barous parts of the world, and even of the countries, which 
 are over-run by Popish stuperstition will therefore be 
 found more excusable for their deficiencies both in faith 
 and practice, than we of this enlightened age, and nation, 
 who enjoy every imaginable advantage for free enquiry, 
 and labour under no kind of bias either toward credulity 
 or the contrary, but what we choose to subject ourselyesto. 
 
 Besides our being indispensably obliged, in point of 
 duty, to take the utmost care, that a genuine revelation 
 from God do not meet with neglect, much less disin- 
 genuous opposition, from us ; it is also to be considered, 
 what conduct wisdom prescribes in such a case. Were 
 there no guilt in treating revelation with contempt, or 
 opposing, yet no^man of prudence would wilfully deprive 
 
400 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 himself of any probable advantage for information and 
 improvement, from whatever quarter it might come. Nor 
 ■will any wise man think lightly of a scheme intended, as 
 Divine revelation is, for the important ends of republish- 
 ings with a set of authoritative sanctions, the religion of 
 nature, and fixing beyond all dispute the duty of mankind, 
 and the means for attaining their greatest happiness; and 
 for communicating to them various important truths not 
 known before, nor discoverable by human reason. That 
 revelation has effectually done these things, will appear by 
 the general view of it, that will be exhibited in the second 
 section. 
 
 A direct, explicit law, given by Divine authority, is 
 the very thing which such a short-sighted, and imperfect 
 order of beings as mankind, were perculiarly in want of. 
 Nor is any method so fit for governing a set of creatures 
 generally unqualified for reasoning out, with a proper clear- 
 ness and certainty, the means of attaining happiness, as a 
 distinct system of rules of conduct guarded by proper 
 sanctions. Is not all human government constituted on 
 that foundation ? When a new state or colony is to be set- 
 tled, do the founders trust to the reason of a "mixed multi- 
 tude for the observance of equity, the security of property, 
 and happiness of the whole ? And was it not' a more effec- 
 tual way to lead mankind to the love of God, and one 
 another, to give them an express law to that purpose, 
 than to leave it to their own reasonings, to find out their 
 Creator, and to one another, and whether they might trifle 
 With it, or resolve faithfully to perform it ? Therefore man- 
 kind have probably, in no age been wholly left to their 
 own reason : but a standing positive institution has all 
 along been kept up in one part of the world, or other ; and 
 would in all probability have been more universally, as 
 Well as more conspicuously established ; but for the wick- 
 edness of mankind, which rendered them unworthy of 
 partaking universally of this blessing, and occasioned its 
 being imparted to them in a more obscure and limited 
 manner. 
 
 We arc at present in a state of discipline ; and every 
 tiling is intended as a part of our trial, and means of im- 
 provement. Revelation may be considered in the same 
 light. A message from heaven is brought to our cars. 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 401 
 
 attended with such evidence, as may be sufficient to con- 
 vince the unprejudiced mind of its being genuine ; but at 
 the same time not so ascertained, but that pretences tor 
 cavilling at, and opposing it, may, by disingenuous men, 
 be found. If this gives an opportunity lor the exercise of 
 honest inquiry, and exhibits in the fairest light the di : er- 
 ent characters of the sincere, but cautious, and inquisitive 
 lover of truth ; of the indolent, unthinking, and credulous, 
 who believes with the multitude ; and of the perverse and 
 disingenuous, who rejects whatever is not suitable to his 
 wa\ s of thinking or living ; if revelation does these things, 
 is it notto be reckoned one of the noblest trials of the present 
 state ? And is it not promulgated in the very manner it 
 ought to have been ? , 
 
 Standing oracles were probably some of the first methods 
 which the Divine Wisdom made use of to communicate 
 particular express information to mankind. There was 
 an appointed place, to which worshippers resorted, and 
 consulting, received answers, and directions. Spiritual 
 beings were employed in revealing the Divine Will to 
 mankind. And. in visions and dreams, communications 
 were given to men of characters eminent for virtue and 
 piety. A race of prophets, or persons under Divine In- 
 fluence, succeeding to one another, so as there should be 
 no long period without one or more such inspired men, 
 kept up an impression of the superintendency of God, and 
 of the necessity of obedience to Him. But we know of 
 no method so proper for communicating to mankind in 
 general, a set of useful informations ; so as to be of lasting, 
 constant, and extensive advantage to them, as their being 
 committed to writing, by which means they are easily ac- 
 cessible to all, to be consulted at all times and in all places. 
 
 The revelation, therefore, with which we are blessed, 
 has been, by the Divine Providence directed to be penned 
 by Moses, the Prophets, and Apostles; and has been won- 
 derfully preserved for many ages, free, for any thing we 
 know, or have reason to suspect, from material corrup- 
 tions and alterations ; and in it we have all informations ne- 
 cessary for our conduct here, and happiness hereafter. 
 
 Whoever chooses to enlarge the sphere of his inquiry 
 as wide as possible, may examine the several schemes of 
 religion, which have pretended to a Divine Original, and 
 
 3 E 
 
402 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 by comparing- them together, he will soon find which bears 
 the characters of being truly from heaven. 
 
 As to us, who live in these happy realms of knowledge 
 and freedom of inquiry, the religion contained in the 
 scripture of the Old and New Testaments offers itself 
 more immediately, and challenges our chief and most at- 
 tentive examination ; it is therefore evident, that it lies im- 
 mediately upon us to inquire into its pretensions ; and that 
 we may more safely neglect all the others ; none of which 
 the Divine Providence has given us so fair an opportunity 
 of examining, or made so clearly our duty to inquire into. 
 But to inquire into religion in an impartial manner, a man 
 must begin with shaking off all prejudice, from education 
 and general opinion, and must suppose himself a mere un- 
 principled Indian, not biassed to any species of religion 
 in the world. He must likewise resolve to go through the 
 whole of what he is to examine ; not contenting himself 
 with a partial and imperfect view of things, which is the 
 way to acquire imperfect and mistaken notions. He must 
 also go directly to the fountain, if he would know the true 
 virtues of the water of life ; that is, he must, to know the 
 religion of the scriptures, go directly to the scriptures, 
 and study them more than all the systems or bodies of 
 divinity in the world. 
 
 There is no greater hindrance to the candid examina- 
 tion and ready reception of so pure and strict a scheme of 
 religion as the christian, than a fatal attachment to vice. 
 This was the original obstacle, which retarded its estab- 
 lishment in the world, at its first appearance ; has prevent- 
 ed its progress ever since ; has disguised and deformed its 
 native beauty ; has almost wholly defeated its genuine in- 
 tention, in one church ; and raised enemies against it, even 
 in this land of light, in an age immediately succeeding to 
 the times, in which it stood the examination of the ablest 
 inquirers, and came out established upon a more rational 
 foundation, than ever it stood upon, from the apostolic 
 age downwards." It will therefore be necessary, above all 
 things, for the inquirer into the truth of Christianity, to 
 purge his mind from every corrupt affection, that may 
 prompt him to wish to find it suspicious or false ; to take 
 no counsel with flesh and blood; bet to labour to work 
 himself up to that pitch of heavenly-mindedness, which it 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 403 
 
 requires ; that so he may not only be wholly unprejudiced 
 against it, but may be supposed to listen to reason in its 
 favour, and may find within himself a witness to its truth. 
 
 SECTIOM I. 
 
 Previous Objections against a Revelation in general, and 
 that of Scripture in particular, considered. 
 
 A revelation had not been given to mankind, had there 
 been no need of it, in such a sense as that it must prove 
 wholly useless. But the question is, whether it is not an 
 absurdity to talk of a genuine revelation's being needless, 
 or useless. Can any thing be said to be needless, or use- 
 less that is calculated to improve mankind? Ifasctof 
 moral instructions from one person will be of any service 
 to me, can it be said, that more of the same kind will be 
 useless ? if I had already digested all the knowledge, that 
 is to be got in books, and by conversation with the wise 
 and learned of my own species, would the conversation of 
 a superior being be needless and useless to me ? Nav, if 
 the archangel Gabriel had in his power to receive some 
 new informations by revelation from God, would he neg- 
 lect them, as needless and useless, because his knowledge 
 is already immensely extensive ? Those objectors to reve- 
 lation, who talk of its being unnecessary, do not seem to 
 have clear ideas to their words. For if they had, they 
 never would think of limiting the Divine goodness to his 
 creatures, or of alleging, that their advantages for happi- 
 ness were too great. Nor would one think that revela- 
 tion should ever have been looked on as superfluous, by 
 any person who knew the world ; but on the contrary, that 
 all such would readilv acknowledge, that if it were possi- 
 ble to have yet another additional revelation, or advantage 
 for virtue, mankind would not then be at all too good. 
 Nor can any one help seeing the real eventual advantage 
 of revelation, who knows any thing of the difference be- 
 tween the condition, as to knowledge and virtue, of those 
 ages and nations, which have, and those which have not 
 enjoyed the light of it. And here it is to be remembered 
 that in all probability it is a very small part of our knowl- 
 edge that is the genuine acquisition of mere human reason, 
 wholly unassisted. The very use of letters seems to have 
 
404 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 pretensions to a greater author than Cadmus, or than Mo. 
 ses. And probably the whole of the religious knowledge 
 wt possess, is originally owing to revelation. 
 
 The deplorable darkness and ignorance, in which those 
 of our species are found involved, who have lived de- 
 tached from the rest of mankind, and have never enjoyed, 
 or have wholly lost, all traces of revealed knowledge (if 
 that be really the case of any people, which is to be doubt- 
 ed, is a proof of the advantage of revelation. And it is 
 only from what we find to be the case of those newly disco- 
 vered nations, who have undoubtedly few supernatural ad- 
 van' ages, that we can fairly judge, what the state of man- 
 kind in general would have been, if the species had been 
 left wholly to themselves. For, as to this hide of ihe globe, 
 it is to be questioned, if there ever was any people upon it, 
 who could be said to be in a perfect state of nature, as 
 will afterwards appear. 
 
 The despisers of revealed religion, on account of the 
 all- sufficiency of human reason, are desired to consider 
 tht following proofs of its boasted sufficiency in matters 
 of both belief and practice. 
 
 The only account we have of the antediluvian manners, 
 is that given by Moses, viz. That all flesh corrupted their 
 ways to such a degree, as to render it necessary to purify 
 the earth by a general deluge. Of the patriarchal times, 
 the only accounts we have are likewise from the same ven- 
 erable writer ; which show the people of those ages, ex- 
 cept a few families, to have been wholly given to poly- 
 theism and idolatry. The destruction of the five cities by 
 lire from heaven, for the most abominable and unnatural 
 crimes, shows the state of corruption to which the people 
 oi those times were sunk. -The accounts we have from 
 Herodotus and Diodorus Siculus, of the religion of the 
 Egyptians, the fathers of wisdom and learning, are the 
 disgrace of human reason-. Their worshipping the most 
 contemptible and hateful animals, as crocodiles, storks, 
 c ts, vnonkevs, and calves ; to kill which sacred animals, 
 was death by their law, and which they carefully embalm- 
 ed, and solemnly deposited in tombs ; and their adoration 
 even of plants, as leeks and onions ; these are strange in- 
 stances of the sufficiency of reason forjudging in religions 
 matters! They also (according to the same author) allow- 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 405 
 
 ed of theft; and made marriages between brothers* and 
 
 sisters a part of religion. \\ hat were all tht poj n 'reli- 
 gions of the Pagans in general, but a heap of absurdiiu s ? 
 What can be said of their il; it k s ; w hose characters were 
 too shocking, for men and women of such manner;-; to be 
 suffered to live among us? And lest there should be any 
 want of such hopeful objects of worship, they multiplied 
 them to such a number, that Varro reckons up a link ar- 
 mv of them, and Lucian represents the heavens as in dan- 
 ger of being broke down with the weight of such a- multi- 
 tude. The horrid practice of appeasing them with human 
 blood, and even with that of the children of the zealous 
 votaries themselves, with the abominable imeuri'ic; as- 
 cribed to them, and practised by their blind worshippers 
 in honour of them, show what notions of the object, and 
 nature of worship, human reason, left to itself, is apt to 
 run into. Those, who had bettei notions of the superior 
 powers, represent them as cither quarrelling and figlnii g 
 [Homer makes his goddesses treat one another with the 
 language of Billingsgate) or as a set of idle luxurious vo- 
 luptuaries, spending their whole time in cpiafring of nectar, 
 wholly regardless of human affairs* In some ancient na- 
 tions, every young woman was obliged to prostitute herself 
 in the temple of Venus, as a religious oeremoro . Thucy- 
 dides says, that both Greeks and Barbarians thought 
 berv and plunder glorious. The whole ancient Ik: i 
 was indeed little else. And it was chiefly by violence and 
 brutal fury, that the Macedonian, Roman, and other states 
 acquired such an extent of dominion. From Homer, and 
 other writers, down to the Roman historians, we see how 
 the manners of ancient times allowed to treat captives in 
 war*. Princes and princesses were dragged in triumph af- 
 ter the chariot of the conqueror ; and they, and the inferior 
 .people, by thousands, butchered in cold blood, or condemn- 
 ed to slavery : The beautiful part of the female captives 
 shared among the heroes, and condemned to prostitution, 
 and infamy. The laws of Lycurgiis were founded in war 
 and savage heroism, and allowed stealing, unless the person 
 was caught in the fact. Adultery was also in certain cases 
 established by law. Kxposino; of children was, among the 
 Romans accoreling to Luctantius, a daily practice. Glad- 
 iators butchering one another by thousands, was the reign- 
 
406 OF REVEALED RELIGION, 
 
 i.i diversion among those lords of the world for ages. 
 And it was common, when one had got the other down, 
 for the conqueror to look at the people for their orders, 
 whether to spare or kill him, which they often gave for the 
 latter; and even the ladies, if we may belie ve their own 
 writers, would often give the signal to dispatch a poor, 
 conquered, helpless victim, that they might feast their sav, 
 age and unwomanly hearts with scenes of cruelty and blood. 
 The authors of the Grecian wisdom were almost all ad- 
 dieted to one vice or other, some more, some less scanda- 
 lous. Their snarling, and impudence, got them the ap- 
 pellation of Cynics ; and disputes about words run through 
 all their writings. Too many of both Greek and Roman 
 philosophers, or wise men, flattered the vices of princes. 
 Socrates himself, the father of wisdom, and opposer of 
 polytheism, encouraged to consult the oracles* and to of- 
 fer sacrifice to idols. Plato's morals were so obscure, 
 that it required a life time to understand them. Cicero 
 excuses and countenances lewdness in some parts of his 
 writings. And those of Seneca are not without their poi- 
 son. What were the manners of the polite court of Au- 
 gustus (to say nothing of the sea of blood, through which 
 he swam to the imperial throne) is pretty evident from the 
 abominable and unnatural fiithiness scattered through the 
 writings of the wits of that elegant age. Which of the 
 ancient sages did not too far temporize, and conform to 
 the national superstition, contrary to their better knowl- 
 edge, and even make the worst species of dissimulation 
 a part of the duty of a good citizen ; the consequence of 
 which was the effectual rivetting of error, and prevention 
 of reasonable inquiry and reformation. It is certain, that 
 whole nations have placed virtue on directly opposite sides; 
 and that the wise ancients differed in their notion of what 
 the chief good of man consisted in, to such a degree, that., 
 one author reckons up several hundred different opinions 
 on the subject. This shows that the understanding, or 
 moral sense, though sufficient, when illuminated by Divine 
 revelation, to judge of truth, is not, for all that, capable of 
 striking out of itself sufficient light, safely to guide itself, 
 especially overwhelmed and oppressed as it is by vice and 
 prejudice. The most sublime of the Heathen philoso- 
 phers never put the immortality of the soul (the founda- 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 407 
 
 tion of all religion) out of doubt. On the contrary, they 
 represent it as at best only a very desirable scheme. Of 
 a general resurrection of the body, an universal public 
 judgment, and final happiness of the whole Human Na- 
 ture, soul and body, in a state of everlasting glory, it does 
 not appear that they had any clear notions ; or that they 
 carried their views beyond the Elysian state. None of 
 them could satisfy a thinking mind about the proper means 
 for propitiating the Deity, or whether guiit was like to be 
 pardoned at all : nor could any of them prescribe an ac- 
 ceptable method of addressing the object of worship. On 
 the contrary, Plato represents the wise S crates as at a full 
 stop, and advising not to worship at all, till such time as 
 it should please God to inform mankind, by an express 
 revelation, how they might address him acceptably. Nor 
 did any of them sufficiently inculcate humility, the foun- 
 dation of all virtues. On the contrary, the very schemes 
 of some of the sects were rather founded in pride and ob- 
 stinacy. Nor did any of them go so far as to show that 
 forgiving injuries, loving enemies, and setting the affec- 
 tions upon the future heavenly state, were absolutely ne- 
 cessary. The utmost that any of them did, was to recom- 
 mend the more sublime virtues to the practice of such 
 persons as could reach them. So much for the Heathen 
 doctrines and morals. 
 
 Mahomet is known to have abandoned himself to lust 
 all his life long. His impostures were so gross, that when 
 he first broached them, his best friends were ashamed of 
 both him and them. His religion sets upon the foot of 
 direct violence and force of arms, and makes sensual grati- 
 fications, to the most excessive degree of beastliness, the 
 final reward of a strict attachment to it. The Koran, so 
 far as it is an original, is a heap of absurd doctrines, and. 
 trifling or bad laws. The few miracles which Mahomet 
 pretends to have performed, are either things within the 
 reach of human power, or are hideous and incredible ab- 
 surdities, or are wholly unattested. 
 
 The papists, who pretend to be christians ; but have 
 in fact forged a religion of their own ; have they done any 
 honour to the opinion of the all-sufficiency of reason in 
 matters of religion ? Let every one of their peculiar doc- 
 trines be examined, and let it be considered what advan- 
 
408 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 tage il is of to mank indi for regulating their belief* and 
 pnciice. Their invocation of saints, who ought to be 
 omnipresent, to hear their prayers ; which, according to 
 
 their own account oi the matter they are not. Their pur* 
 gatory, out oi which the priest can pray a soul at any time 
 for money, which must defeat the very design of a purga- 
 tory. Their penances, pilgrimages, fines, absolutions, 
 and inctulgencies ; whose direct tendency is to lead the 
 deluded votaries oi that cursed superstition into a total 
 neglect of the obligations of virtue, defeating the very end 
 of religion. The infallibility of their popes, while one 
 tMonders out bulls and decrees directly contrary to those 
 of another. And, last and worst (for it is endless to enu- 
 merate the absurdities of popery) that most hideous and 
 monstrous of all productions of the human brain, tran- 
 substantiation, which at once confounds all sense, over- 
 turns all reasoning;, and renders all truth precarious and 
 uncertain. These are the triumphs of reason ; these the 
 productions of human invention, when applied to making 
 ol religions. 
 
 Upon the whole, from this brief and imperfect represen- 
 tation of the state of those parts of the world which have 
 enjoyed but a very little of the light of genuine Divine 
 revelation, (for it is to be doubted, whether any was ever 
 wholly without it) and of those which have wickedly ex- 
 tinguished, or foolishly forsaken it, from this very brief 
 representation, I say, human reason, unassisted from above, 
 shows itself so far from sufficient for leading mankind in 
 general into a completely right belief and practice, that in 
 almost every point, beyond mere simple right and wrong, 
 it misleads into error, or falls short of truth. As the na- 
 ked eye, though very fit for directing our way on earth, 
 yet misrepresents, through its weakness, every celestial 
 object ; shows the sun no bigger than a chariot wheel, the 
 moon fiat like a plate of silver, and the planets like lucid 
 points. The same eye stregthened by a telescope sees 
 the sun, and moon, and planets, large and globular, as 
 they reallv are. Revelation is that to reason, which a 
 telescope is to the eye ; an advantage and improvement.- 
 As he, who would see the wonders of the heavens, arms 
 his eye with a telescope, so does the judicious inquirer 
 into religious truth, apply to revelation for those informa- 
 
©F REVEALED RELIGION. 409 
 
 tions, which reason alone would never have givenvthough 
 it judges of, and approves them, when given. And as 
 the astronomer does not think of putting out his eve, in 
 order to see better with a telescope ; so neither docs the 
 judicious advocate for revelation desire to oppose it to 
 reason, but to examine it by reason and to improve his 
 reason by it. 
 
 The abominable priestcraft, and horrid persecution 
 and blood-shed, which have been the disgrace of a reli- 
 gion, whose distinguishing characteristic is benevo- 
 lence, is no confutation of what I have been advancing in. 
 support of the natural tendency and actual good effects 
 upon a great number of mankind, of pure religion ; and 
 only shows that even a Divine appointment may be per- 
 verted to the purpose of establishing the kingdom of Satan. 
 At any rate, the abuse of revelation, is no better objection 
 against revelation, than that of reason (of which every 
 hour presents us various instances) is against reason; 
 which nobody ever thought of urging, as an argument that 
 it was not of Divine original. 
 
 The disputes among the many different sects of chris- 
 tians, which have rendered it very difficult for those, who 
 search for the doctrines of revealed religion, any where, 
 but in the Bible itself, to settle their judgment upon 
 many points; those disputes are no just objection against 
 revelation, any more than against every branch of human 
 science whatever ; upon every one of which, not excepting 
 even the pure mathematics, controversies have been raised. 
 A revelation, upon which it should be impossible for 
 designing, subtle men to raise disputes, is hardly conceiva- 
 ble ; or, however, is altogether inconsistent with the idea 
 of a contrivance intended for the improvement of a set of 
 free moral agents; who must be expected to treat rtveia- 
 tion, as well as every other kind of information, according 
 to their respective capacities, and tempers of mind. 
 
 If it has been alleged, that for God to have recourse to 
 a direct message, or revelation, for reforming or improving 
 mankind, or supplying the deficiencies of reason, looks like 
 a defect in the make of the creature ; and that reason ought 
 alone to have been made originally equal to the purpose of 
 enabling mankind to secure their final happiness; the an- 
 swer is easy, to wit, That ii human reason were supposed 
 
 3 F 
 
410 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 more equal to the purpose for which it was given than it 
 is t a revelation might still be of great advantage. And 
 thai to suppose an express contrivance for mending the 
 moral world necessary, or useful, is no more unphiloso- 
 phical, or to speak properly, more unworthy of God, than 
 one for the same purpose, in the natural world. And this 
 latter is by our great philosopher allowed to be probable. 
 
 Supposing it reasonable to believe that the Divine pow- 
 er, either immediately, or by means of the intervention or 
 instrumentality of inferior agents and causes, dees con- 
 tinually actuate the natural world, and conduct the moral; 
 is not this a continued interposition? Why then should 
 the thought of an extraordinary interposition on an extraor- 
 dinary occasion, in order to a great and important end, 
 be so difficult to conceive ? At any rate, what must those 
 gentlemen, who are so startled at the notion of an extraor- 
 dinary step taken by the infinitely wise and absolutely 
 free Governor of the world; what must they say of the 
 creation of the universe? Did the universe come into exist- 
 ence by settled laws of nature ? Is there any law of nature 
 by which nothing becomes something ? And does that law 
 take place at such and such precise times, and no other? 
 Let the opposcrs of extraordinary interpositions make 
 the most of that difficulty, they must acknowledge some- 
 what extraordinary, as they choose to call it, to take place- 
 now and then in the universe on occasion of the creation 
 of a world. And it does not appear to me, that the restora- 
 tion, or (as it may be called) making a-new a world, is of 
 much less consequence, or less worthy of a particular in- 
 terposition, than the first creation of it. 
 
 But after all, what is it those . gentlemen puzzle them- 
 selves with ? Are they sure, that in order, the giving a 
 positive revelation to mankind, and the restoration of a 
 world by means of such an institution as the christian, 
 there is any thing to be done out of, or contrary to the 
 common course of things? Can they be positive, that there 
 never was, or will be, any scheme, analogous to this, con- 
 tri\< d for any other order of beings in the universe? To 
 affirm this, would be about as judicious as the opinion of 
 the vulgar, that thunder is an immediate expression of the 
 Divine displeasure, and that comtts are sent on purpose 
 to give notice of impending judgments. Whereas a lit- 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 411 
 
 tic knowledge of nature shows, that, whatever moral instruc- 
 tions those phenomena are in general fitted to communi- 
 cate at all times to mankind, the cause of them is part of 
 the mere constitution of nature. And who can say, that 
 superior beings may not have such extensive views of the 
 august plan of the Divine government, as to see the whole 
 scheme of revealed religion in the same light ? 
 
 Nor are there wanting various particulars, in the Divine 
 government of the moral world, analogous, in a lower 
 sphere, to the grand scheme of revelation. How much 
 are we in the present state dependant on others for various 
 advantages spiritual and temporal? What gift of God do 
 we receive without the interposition of some agent? How 
 are parents, teachers, spiritual pastors, and guardian an- 
 gels, made the channels of the Divine goodness to us? Is 
 there not in this something similar to our receiving the 
 inestimable advantages of the perfect knowledge of our 
 duty, the pardon of our sins, andall the blessings which reli- 
 gion bestows, through the channel of a Mediator between 
 God and us ? Our Saviour's taking upon himself certain 
 sufferings, by which we are to gain great advantages, is by 
 no means foreign to the common course of the world, in 
 which we see very great hazards run, and actual inconve- 
 niences suffered by friends and relations for one another. 
 He and his apostles allow of this analogy. 
 
 In the common course of things, thoughtlessness and 
 folly, which though not innocent, are yet pitiable, are the 
 causes of very terrible misfortunes ; and are therefore in 
 many cases provided for by the goodness of the wise Gov- 
 ernor of the world, so that they do not always prove irre- 
 trievable. A thoughtless person by intemperance, runs 
 himself into a quarrel, in which he is wounded. With- 
 out help, he must perish. And it is not to be expected 
 that he should be miraculously recovered. Is it not the 
 Divine goodness, which has furnished the materials neces- 
 sary for his cure, made provision in the formation of the 
 human body for the accidents it might be liable to, so 
 that every hurt should not prove fatal to it ; and engaged us 
 to be kind and helpful to one another ; so that we should 
 be sure of comfort from one or other in our distress ? In 
 the same manner, and by the same goodness, exerted in 
 a higher degree, revelation teaches us, a remedy is pro- 
 
41 2 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 vided for the recovery to the Divine mercy (in a consist- 
 ency with the wisdom and rectitude of his moral govern- 
 ment) of a fallen, offending order of being's. In the case 
 of the unfortunate person here exemplified, his being con- 
 vince d of his folly ; his being heartily concerned for it; 
 and his resolving never more to be guilty of the like, is 
 Bdt sufficient for his recovery ; any more than repentance 
 and reformation alone could be supposed sufficient to put 
 offenders on a footing with innocent beings. 
 
 Natural ends are produced by natural means : so are 
 moral. Natural means are many of them slow, and seem- 
 ingly unpromising, if experience did not show their fitness. 
 It may therefore be concluded, and hoped, that the design 
 of giving a revelation to mankind, however unpromising 
 of extensive success, will eventually, and upon the whole, 
 be gained, in such a measure as it may not be wholly de- 
 feated. Natural means come short, in some particular 
 instances, of their direct and apparent ends ; as in abor- 
 tions of all kinds in the animal and vegetable world. In 
 the same manner it is to be feared, that all the moral means 
 used by Divine goodness, for the reformation of mankind, 
 and revelation among the rest, will, through their pcr- 
 verseness, come greatly short of the direct end, the hap- 
 piness of the species ; though it shall not be in the power 
 oi all created beings to prevent the secondary and more 
 indirect intention of the Divine moral institutions. 
 
 Some opposers of revelation have run themselves into 
 a great many difficulties, by forming to themselves a set 
 of groundless and arbitrary notions of what a revelation 
 from God ought absolutely to be, which not taking place 
 according to their theory, they have concluded against i he 
 credibility of revelation ; than which nothing can be im- 
 agined more rash and unreasonable, to say the least. They 
 have for example, laid it down for an infallible position, that 
 a truly Divine revelation must contain all possible kinds 
 and dc grees of knowledge. But finding that the modern 
 astronomy, and other sciences, have no place in scripture, 
 orthat the expressions in those ancient books do not always 
 suit the true philosophy, they conclude that scripture is 
 no: given by inspiration. But when it is considered, that 
 the design of revelation was not to make men philosophers, 
 it may very well be supposed, that the spirit which con. 
 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 413 
 
 ducted it did not see it necessary to inspire the sacred pen- 
 men with any knowledge not directly necessary for improv- 
 ing men's hearts and lives. Finding some inconsiderable 
 variations in the historical accounts, as "of our Saviour's 
 resurrection and other particulars, they conclude, that the 
 narration is not authentic : for that inspiration must have 
 prevented any such variation in the accounts of the differ- 
 ent writers. But it is to be remembered, that the mea- 
 sure of inspiration must be supposed to have been limited; 
 that every single article and syllable was not necessary to 
 be expressly inspired; that where the human faculties of 
 the writers were in the main sufficient, it was not to be sup- 
 posed inspiration should interpose ; and that revelation was 
 designed to be perfect (as all things which we have to do 
 at present) only to a certain degree. 
 
 The want of universality is an objection of the same 
 kind. But if the consideration of the true religion's not 
 being communicated alike to all mankind, proves any 
 thing against it, the same objection lies against reason. 
 For it is given to men in such different measures, as almost 
 to render it doubtful whether they ought not to be pro- 
 nounced of different species. Nor is there any injustice 
 in the different distribution of gifts and advantages ; if we 
 take in the due allowance made for those differences in 
 the final judgment. If a Hottentot, be hereafter judged 
 as a Hottentot, he ought as much to own the justice of 
 his sentence, as a Newton, when judged as a philosopher. 
 
 Could we have formed any just novion what the measure 
 of human reason, what the reach of human sagacity ought 
 to have been ? Whether it ought to shine forth in its great- 
 est brightness at first, or to come to its maturity by slow 
 degrees ; whether it ought in its exertion to be wholly inde- 
 pendent on the body, or if it should be liable to be dis- 
 ordered with the disorder of the corporeal frame ; whether 
 it ought to be always equal, or weak in youth and in ex- 
 treme old age. Who would have thought the seemingly 
 precarious faculty of invention, a proper method for im- 
 proving arts and sciences ! Who would have thought that 
 writing and printing could ever have been made the means 
 of carrying human knowledge to the height we know they 
 have done ? If we find that Divine wisdom can, by the 
 most unpromising causes, produce the greatest effects, 
 
4,14, OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 and *hat hardly any thing is constituted in such a manner 
 as human wisdom would beforehand have judged proper, 
 why should we wonder if we cannot reconcile the scheme 
 of Divine revelation to our arbitrary and fantastical views ; 
 which for any thing we know, may be immensely differ- 
 ent from those of the Author of revelation ? 
 
 With all our incapacity of judging beforehand what 
 revelation ought to have been, it does not follow, that we 
 may not be sufficiently qualified to judge of its evidence 
 and excellence now it is delivered. And that is enough 
 to determine us to what is right and safe for us, I mean, 
 to pay it all due regard. For, in all cases, it is our wis- 
 dom to act upon the best probability we can obtain. 
 
 A supernatural scheme contrived by Divine wisdom, 
 an express revelation from God, may well be expected to 
 contain difficulties too great for human reason to investi- 
 gate. The ordinary economy of nature and providence, 
 is founded in, and conducted by a sagacity too deep lor 
 our penetration, much more the extraordinary parts, if 
 such there are, of the Divine government. In the works 
 of nature, it is easy for men to puzzle themselves and 
 others with difficulties unsurmauntable, as well as to find 
 objections innumerable; to say, Why was such a crea- 
 tnrc or thing made so '? Why was such another not made 
 in such a particular manner "? The ways of Providence 
 are also too intricate and complex for our shallow under- 
 standings to trace out. The wisdom, which guides the 
 moral, as well as that which framed the natural system, is 
 Divine ; and therefore too exquisite for our gross appre- 
 hensions. Even in human government, it is not to be 
 expected, that every particular law or regulation should 
 give satisfaction to every subjtct, or should be perfectly 
 seen through by individuals at a distance from the seat of 
 government : which is often the cause, especially in free 
 countries, of most unreasonable and ridiculous complaints 
 against what is highly wise and conducive to the general 
 advantage. But in inquiring into nature, providence, and 
 Ltion, one rule will effectually lead us to a proper de- 
 termination, to wit, to judge by what we know, not by what 
 we are ignorant of. If in the works and ways of God, in 
 nature, providence, and revelation, where, comprehended 
 by us, we find a profusion of wisdom and goodness exhibit- 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 415 
 
 ed in the most perspicuous and striking manner ; is any 
 thing more reasonable than to conclude, that if we saw 
 through the whole, we should perceive the same proprie- 
 ty in those parts which are intricate, as we now do in the 
 clearest ? And it has been the peculiar fate of revelation, 
 much more than either of the other two, to be opposed 
 on account of such difficulties in it, as arise from our weak- 
 ness. Especially, it has very rarely happened, that the 
 existence of God, and the doctrine of his being the Crea- 
 tor of the world, has been questioned merely on account 
 of any difficulties in tracing out the wisdom of any part of 
 the constitution of nature. And yet it would be as rational 
 to argue, that there is no God, because the brutes have in 
 some inferior respects the advantage of the lord of this lower 
 world, as to question the truth of revealed religion, after 
 examining its innumerable evidences, presumptive and 
 positive, merely because we may think it strange, that the 
 Saviour of the world shoud die the death of a criminal. 
 
 Here it is proper to enter an express caveat against what- 
 ever may pretend to the sacred character of a point of faith 
 or religion, and on that pretence elude or baffle reason. 
 There can nothing be imagined to be intended for the use 
 and improvement of reasonable minds, which directly and 
 explicitly contradicts reason. If reason and revelation be 
 both the gifts of God, it is not to be expected that they 
 should oppose one another ; but that they should tally, 
 as both coming from the same wise and good Author. 
 Whatever therefore is an express absurdity, or contra- 
 diction, we may be well assured can be no genuine doc- 
 trine of revealed religion, but a blundering invention of 
 weak or designing men. It is one thing for a point of re- 
 vealed religion to be, as to its ?nodu$, above our reach, and 
 quite another matter, for a doctrine to be clearly contra- 
 dictory to human understanding. That the direct con- 
 nexion in the nature of things betwixt the death of Christ 
 and the salvation of mankind, should be utterly inexpli- 
 cable by human reason, is no more than what might have 
 been expected, and, if unquestionably a doctrine of reveal- 
 ed religion, is to be received without hesitation upon the 
 credit of the other parts which we understand more perfect- 
 ly. But, that on a priest's muttering a few words over a 
 wafer, it should immediately become a whole Christ, while 
 
416 OF REVEALED RELIGION". 
 
 at the same time it is certain, that if a little arsenic had 
 been put into the composition of it, it would have effectu- 
 ally poisoned the soundest believer ; and while we know 
 that there can be but one whole Christ, though the Papists 
 pretend to make a thousand Christs in a day ; this is not 
 to be considered as a difficult or mysterious point, but as 
 a clear express contradiction both to sense and reason. 
 
 It is also proper here to mention, that whatever doctrine 
 of religion (supposing it to be really genuine) is btyond 
 the reach of human understanding, cannot be imagined ne- 
 cessary to be received, any farther than understood. For be- 
 lief cannot be carried the least degree beyond conception. 
 And it is to be remembered, that a doctrine may be con- 
 tained in scripture, and yet not a necessan point of faith. 
 For example : It is said in scripture, that the angels de- 
 sired to look into the scheme of the redemption of man- 
 kind. But nobody has ever thought, of making an article 
 of faith necessary to salvation, That we are to believe, that 
 the angels are interested in the scheme of our redemption. 
 Unless scripture itself expressly declares a doctrine neces- 
 sary to be received, we cannot, without rashness, pretend 
 to pronounce it absolutely necessary to be believed in any 
 precise or determinate sense whatever. 
 
 It has been objected against the scheme of revelation 
 which is received among us, That great part of the precepts 
 contained in it are such as appear at first view agreeable to 
 sound reason ; whereas it might have been expected (say 
 those objectors, or rather cavillers) that every article in it 
 should be quite new and unheard of. At the same time 
 the same gentlemen think proper likewise to object, That 
 many of the scripture-expressions are very different from 
 those used bv other ancient authors. So that it is, it seems, 
 an objection against scripture, That it is what it might 
 have been expected to be ; and that it is not what it might 
 have been expected to be. 
 
 To the former of these cavils it may be briefly answered, 
 That the general agreement between reason and revela- 
 tion, shows both to be of Divine original ; while revela- 
 tion's being an improvement and addition to reason,* 
 shows its usefulness and expediency. The latter difficulty 
 
 • See page 408. 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 417 
 
 will vanish on considering that many of the scripture ex- 
 pressions are visibly accommodated to humanapprehension, 
 while others on the same subjects are raised to a sublimity 
 suitable to the nature of the thing ; by which means the 
 narrowest mind receives an information suitable to its 
 reach, whilst the most elevated conception is enlarged by 
 views of the noblest and most sublime nature. Thus, to 
 mention only one instance at present, the meanest reader 
 of Scripture, is struck with fear of One, whose eye is quick 
 and piercing, to search the hearts, and try the reins of the 
 children of men, and whose hand is powerful, and his 
 out- stretched arm mighty, to seize and punish offenders. 
 At the same time the profound philosopher is in the same 
 writings informed, that God is a spirit filling heaven and 
 earth, and not contained within the limits of the heaven 
 of heavens, but inhabiting immensity and eternity, in 
 whom all live and move, and have their beings ; necessarily 
 invisible, and alogether unlike to any of his creatures ; hav- 
 ing neither eyes, nor hands, nor passions like those of men ; 
 but whose ways are infinitely above our ways and his 
 thoughts above our thoughts. Thus the Scripture language 
 is such, as that of a revelation intended for the improve- 
 ment of men of all different degrees of capacity, ought to 
 be. It is, in short, fit for the use of a whole species. 
 
 That the Old Testament particularly, which is the only- 
 book extant in that language, should be so well preserved 
 and understood as it is, so long after the Hebrew has ceased 
 to be a living language : that we should at this time be 
 able to make out a regular history, and a set of consistent 
 thoughts and views, from writings of such antiquity, is 
 much more to be wondered, than that there should be 
 found in them difficulties, seeming contradictions, and 
 thoughts or expressions different from those found in pro- 
 ductions of a later date. But above all things, that the 
 thoughts and expressions in Scripture should so far exceed 
 in sublimity all other compositions, seems unaccountable 
 upon every other scheme, but their being of Divine origi- 
 nal. Of the truth of this assertion, let the following in- 
 stance, among innumerable others, serve as a proof. 
 
 The loftiest passage, in the most sublime of all human 
 productions, is the beginning of the eighth book of 
 Homer's Iliad. There the greatest of all human imagina- 
 
 3G 
 
418 OF UEVE\LLD RELIGION". 
 
 tions labours to describe, not a hero, but a God ; not an 
 inferior, but the Supreme God; not to show his superior- 
 ity to mortals, but to the heavenly powers ; and not to 
 one, but to them all united. The following is a verbal 
 translation of it. 
 
 "The saffron coloured morning was spread over the 
 whole earth; and Jupiter, rejoicing in his thunder, held 
 an assembly of the gods upon the highest top of the many- 
 headed Olympus. He himself made a speech to them, 
 and all the gods together listened. 
 
 "Hear me, all ye gods, and all ye goddesses, that I may 
 say what my scul in my breast commands. Let not there- 
 fore any female deity, or any male, endeavour to break 
 though my world; but all consent together, that I may 
 most quickly perform these works. Whomsoever, there- 
 fore, of the gods I shall understand to have gone by him- 
 self, and of his own accord to give assistance either to the 
 Trojans or the Greeks, he shall return to Olympus shame- 
 full v wounded ; or I will throw him, seized by me, into 
 dark hell, very fir off, whether the most deepabyss is under 
 the earth ; whether there are iron gates, and a brazen 
 threshold, us far within hell, as heaven is distant from the 
 earth. He will then know, by how much I am the most 
 powerful of all the gods. 
 
 " But come, try, O ye gods, that ye may all see. Hang 
 down the golden chain from heaven, hang upon it all ye 
 gods, and all ye goddesses; but ye shall not be able to 
 draw from heaven to the ground Jupiter the great coun- 
 sellor, though ye strive ever so much. But when I after- 
 wards shall be willing to draw, I shall lift both the earth 
 itself, and the sea itself. Then I shall bind the chain round 
 the top of Olympus, and they shall all hang aloft. For 
 so much am I above gods and above men." 
 
 With this most masterly passage of the greatest master 
 of the sublime, of all antiquity, the writer, who probably 
 had the greatest natural and acquired advantages of any 
 mortal for perfecting a genius ; let the following verbal 
 translation of a passage from writings penned by one 
 brought up a shepherd, and in a country were learning was 
 not thought of, be compared ; that the difference may 
 appear. In this comparison, I know of no unfair advan- 
 tage given the inspired writer. For bo:h fragments are 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 419 
 
 literally translated ; and if the critics are right the Hebrew 
 original is verse, as well as the Greek. 
 
 " O Lord, my God, thou art very great ! Thou art cloth- 
 ed with honour and nmjestv! Who coverest thyself with 
 light as with a garment : who stretchest out the heavens 
 like a canopy. Who layeth the beams of his chambers 
 in the waters : who makcth the clouds his chariots : who 
 walketh upon the wings of the wind. Who maketh his 
 angels spirits ; his ministers a flame of fire. Who laid 
 the foundation of the earth, that it should not be moved 
 for ever. Thou coveredst it with the deep, as with a 
 garment : the waters stood above the mountains. At thy 
 rebuke they fled ; at the voice of thy thunder they hasted 
 away. They go up by the mountains ; they go down by 
 the rallies unto the place thou hast founded for them. 
 Thou hast set a bound, that they may not pass over ; that 
 they turn not again to cover the earth. 
 
 " O Lord, how manifold are thy works ? In wisdom 
 hast thou made them all. The earth is full of thy riches. 
 So is the great and wide sea, wherein are creatures, innu- 
 merable, both small and great. There go the ships. There 
 is that leviathan, which thou hast made to play therein. 
 These all wait upon thee, that thou mayest give them 
 their food in due season. That thou givest them they 
 gather. Thou openest thy hand : they are filled with good. 
 Thou hidest thy face : they are troubled. They die, and 
 return to their dust. Thou sendest forth thy spirit ; they 
 are created ; and thou renevwst the face of the earth. The 
 glory of the Lord shall endure forever. The Lord shall 
 rejoice in his works. He looketh on the earth, and it tremb- 
 leth. He toucheth the hills ; and they smoke. I will 
 sing unto the Lord as long as i live. I will sing praise unto 
 my God, while I have my being." 
 
 I appeal to every reader, whether the former of these 
 two fragments is not, when compared with the latter, a 
 school-boy's theme, a capucinade, or a Grub-street ballad, 
 rather than a production fit to be named with any part of 
 the inspired writings. Nor is it only in one instance, that 
 the superiority of the Scripture stile to all human compo- 
 sitions appear. But taking the whole body of sacred poesy, 
 and the whole of profane, and considering the character 
 of the Jehovah of the former, and the Jupiter of the latter, 
 
420 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 every one must see the difference to be out of all reach of 
 comparison. .And, what is wonderfully remarkable, Scrip* 
 ture poesy, though penned bv a number of different hands, 
 as, Moses, David, Isaiah, Jeremiah, and the rest, in very 
 distant ages, gives a distinct and uniform idea of the Su- 
 preme Being, no where deviating into any thing mean, or 
 unworthy of him ; and still even where he is spoke of in 
 a manner suited to the general apprehension of mankind, 
 his dignity and majesu duly kept up. Whereas, there is 
 not one of the ancient Heathen poets, who gives a con- 
 sistent idea of the Supreme God, or keeps up his charac- 
 ter throughout, Homer, in the same poem, describes his 
 Jupiter with a great deal of majesty, and in another repre- 
 sents him as deceived by his wife Juno, and overcome with 
 lust and sleep, while the inferior deities are playing what 
 tricks they please, contrary to his intention. In short, 
 the Supreme God is by Homer described as a bully ; by 
 Virgil, as a tyrant ; by Ovid, as a beastly voluptuary ; 
 and by Lucretius, as a lazy drone. So that, if the cavils 
 of the opposers of Revelation, with respect to the style 
 of Scripture, were of so much more consequence than 
 they are ; it would still be the easiest, and indeed the only 
 rational way of accounting for the amazing superiority of 
 those writings to the greatest human productions, in spite 
 of the disadvantages, of want of learning, andthelike, which 
 the sacred penmen laboured under ; to ascribe the senti- 
 ments in them to Divine Inspiration. 
 
 Other objections, as, that the genuineness of some of 
 the books of the Bible has been disputed ; those of vari- 
 ous readings; of seeming contradictions; of doubtful 
 interpretations; of obscurity in the Scripture Chronology, 
 and the like ; all these difficulties are sufficiently cleared 
 up by the learned apologists for Revealed Religion. Nor 
 does it suit the purpose of this work to obviate all objec- 
 tions. Nor is it indeed necessary for the candid inquirer 
 into the truth of Divine Revelation, to attend to the vari- 
 ous difficulties started by laborious cavillers. It is of very 
 sm ill consequence, what circumstantial difficulties may 
 be raised about a scheme, whose grand lines and principal 
 figures show its Author to be Divine ; as will, it is pre- 
 sumed, appear to every ingenuous mind, on a careful peru- 
 sal of the following general view of the whole body of 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 421 
 
 Revelation. Some other objections are occasionally obvi- 
 ated in other parts of this fourth Book ; and for a full 
 view of the controversy between the opposers and defend- 
 ers of Revealed Religion, the reader may consult the au- 
 thors on that subject, recommended page one hundred and 
 sixty. In whose writings he will find full answers to the 
 most trivial objections; and will observe, that the cavils 
 started from time to time, by the Deistical writers, have 
 all been fully considered, and completely answered over 
 and over ; so that nothing new has been, for many years 
 past, or is likely ever to be, advanced on the subject. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 A compendious View of the Scheme of Divine Revelation. 
 
 HOLY Scripture comprehends (though penned by a 
 number of different authors, who lived in ages ven dis- 
 tant from one another) a consistent and uniform scheme 
 of all things that are necessary to be known and attended 
 to by mankind. Nor is there any original writing beside", 
 that does this. It presents us with a view of this w or d 
 before its change from a chaos into an habitable state. It 
 gives us a rational account of the procedure of the Almigh- 
 ty Author in forming and reducing it into a condition fit for 
 being the seat of living inhabitants, and a theatre for action. 
 It gives an account of the origination of mankind ; repre- 
 senting the first of the species as brought into behi; n 
 purpose for discipline and obedience. It gives a genei 1 
 account of the various dispensations and transactions of 
 God with regard to the rational inhabitants of this world ; 
 keeping in view throughout, and no where losing sight of, 
 the great and important end of their creation, the training 
 them up to goodness and virtue, in order to happiness. 
 Every where inculcating that one grand lesson, which if 
 mankind could but be brought to learn, it were no great 
 matter what they were ignorant of, and without which all 
 other knowledge is of no real value ; to wit, That obc^:- 
 e icetothe Supreme Governor of the Universe is the cer- 
 tain, and the only means of happiness ; and that vice and 
 irregularity are both naturally and judicially the causes of 
 miserv and destruction. It shows innumerable instances 
 
422 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 of the Divine displeasure against wickedness ; and in order 
 to give a foil display of the fatal consequences of vice, it 
 
 gives some account, either historically or prophetically, of 
 the general state of this world in its various } criods from 
 the time of its being made habitable from a chaos, to its 
 reduction again to a chaos by fire, at the consummation of all 
 things. Comprehending most of the great events which have 
 happened, or arc yet to happen, to most of the great em- 
 pires and kingdoms, and exhibiting in brief, most of what 
 is to pass on the theatre of the world. Seiting forth to 
 the view of mankind, for their instruction, a variety of 
 examples of real characters the most remarkable for vir- 
 tue, or wickedness, with most signal and striking instances 
 of the Divine approbation of, or displeasure against them. 
 It is only in scripture, that a rational account of this 
 world is given. For in scripture, it is represented as 
 God's world. The inhabitants of it are every where spo- 
 ken of, as no other way of consequence, than in the view 
 of their being his creatures, formed for Religion, and an 
 immortal state of happiness after this life, and at present 
 under the laws and rules of discipline, to train them up for 
 the great end of their being. Even in the mere historical 
 parts, there is always an eye to the true state of things. 
 Instead of informing us, that one prince conquered another^ 
 the scripture account is, that it pleased God to deliver the 
 one into the hand of the other. Instead of ascribing the 
 revolutions of kingdoms and empires to the counsels of 
 the wise or the valour of the mighty, the scripture account 
 of them is, that they were the effect of 'die Divine disposal, 
 brought about by Him, " in whose hand are the hearts of 
 kings, who turns them which way he pleases ; and who 
 puts one down, and sets another up ; who does in the ar- 
 mies oi heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth, 
 whatever seems good to Him, and whose hand none can 
 stay, or say, — \\ hat dost thou?" The view given in 
 scripture oi our world, and its inhabitants, and their af- 
 fairs, is that which must appear to an eye observing from 
 above, not from the earth, tor scripture alone gives ac- 
 count of the original causes of things, the true springs of 
 events, and declares the end from the beginning : which 
 shows it to be given by one who saw through all futurity, 
 and by the same, who has been from the beginning at the 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 423 
 
 head of the affairs of the world, who governs the world, and 
 therefore knew how to give an account (so far as to his 
 wisdom seemed fit to discover) of the whole current and 
 course of events from the creation to the consummation. 
 We have no where, but in scripture, a display of the 
 wonders of Divine mercv for a fallen guiltv race of beings. 
 We have no rational account any where else of a method 
 for restoring a world ruined by vice. In scripture we 
 have this great desideratum : Holy scripture shines forth 
 conspicuous by its own native heavenly splendor ; enlight- 
 ening the darkness, and clearing the doubts, which, from 
 the beginning of the world, hung upon the minds of the 
 wisest and best of men, with respect to the important 
 points, of the most acceptable manner of worshipping God; 
 of the possibility of gaining the Divine favour and the par- 
 don of sin ; of a future state of retribution ; and of the 
 proper immortality, or perpetual existence of the soul : 
 giving more clear, rational and sublime notions of God; 
 teaching a more perfect method of worshipping and serv- 
 ing Him ; and prescribing to mankind a distinct and ex- 
 plicit rule of life, guarded with the most awful sanctions, 
 and attended with the most unquestionable evidences, in- 
 ternal and external, of Divine authority. Bringing to 
 light various important and interesting truths, which no 
 human sagacity could have found out; and establishing 
 and confirming others, which, though pretended to have 
 been discoverable by reason, yet greatly needed superior 
 confirmation. Not only enlightening those countries, on 
 which its direct beams have shone with their full splendor; 
 but breaking through the clouds of heathenism, and super- 
 stition, darting some of its Divine rays to the most distant 
 parts of the world and affording a glimmering light to the 
 most barbarous nations, without which they had been bu- 
 ried in total darkness and ignorance as to moral and reli- 
 gious knowledge. Drawing aside the veil of time, and 
 opening a prospect into eternity, and the world of spirits. 
 Exhibiting a scheme of things incomparably more sublime 
 than is any where else to be found ; in which various or- 
 ders of being, angels, archangels, thrones, dominions, prin- 
 cipalities, and powers, rise in their several degrees, and 
 tower above another towards the perfection of the Divine 
 Nature ; in comparison of which, however, they arc all a?> 
 
424 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 nothing. Holy scripture, in a word, takes in whatever of 
 gnat or good, can be conceived by a rational mind in the 
 present state ; whatever can be of use for raising, refining, 
 and spiritualising human nature ; for making this world a 
 paradise, and mankind angels ; for qualifying them for that 
 eternal bliss and glory, which was the end of their being. 
 And it is highly probable, that while the world stands, 
 learned and inquisitive men will be from time to time dis- 
 covering new wonders of Divine wisdom in that inexhaust- 
 ible treasure. The continual improvement of knowledge 
 of all kinds, and the farther and farther completion of pro- 
 phecy, give reason to expect this. They, who know what 
 amazing lights have been struck out by Mede, Locke, and 
 a few others who have pursued their plan, will readily 
 agree, that, as a century or two past have shown us the 
 Bible in a light, in which it was probably never seen before, 
 since the apostolic age ; so a century or two to come may 
 (if mankind do not give over the study of scripture) exhibit 
 it in a light at present inconceivable. 
 
 That it may in a satisfactory manner appear, how import- 
 ant the subjects, how wide the extent, and how nobie the 
 discoveries of Scripture are ; it may be proper to trace the 
 outlines of the vast and various prospect it exhibits, I 
 mean, to range in order the principal subjects of Revela- 
 tion, as they lie in the holy books. This I will endeavour 
 to draw out of the Bible itself, in such a manner as one 
 wholly a stranger to our systems and controversies, and 
 who had studied Scripture only, might be supposed to do it. 
 
 Holy Scripture begins with informing us, that God was 
 the Author and Greator of the Universe ; which truth is 
 also consistent with human reason ; and the direct conse- 
 quence to be drawn from it is, That all creatures and 
 things are his, and that all thinking beings ought to dedi- 
 cate themselves to his service, to whom they owe their ex- 
 istence, and whatever they have, or hope for. As the Al- 
 mighty Creator is a pure spirit, wholly separate from mat- 
 ter, or corporeal organs of any kind, it is evident, that 
 what he produces, he does by an immediate act of voli- 
 tion. His power reaching to the performance of all pos- 
 sible things, nothing can resist his will. So that his wil- 
 ling, or desiring a thing to be, is producing it. His say 
 ing, or thinking, Let there be liglit, is creating light. 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 42$ 
 
 Scripture informs us, that the human species begun in 
 two persons, one of each sex, created by God, and by him- 
 self put directly in the mature state of life ; whereas all 
 the particulars of the species, who have been since pro- 
 duced, have been created indeed by God, but introduced, 
 into human life by the instrumentality of parents. We 
 learn from scripture, that the first of our species were 
 
 brought into being, not onlv in a state of innocence or capa- 
 
 ..." \ ' 
 
 citv for virtue, but likewise naturally immortal, being blest 
 
 with constitutions so formed, that they would of themselves 
 
 have continued uninjured by time, till it should have been 
 
 thought proper to remove the species to a new and more 
 
 spiritual state. 
 
 The appointment of one day in seven, as a day of rest ; 
 the sanctifying a seventh part of our time to religious pur- 
 poses, was an ordinance worthy of God ; and the account 
 we have in scripture of its having been appointed so early, 
 by Divine authority, and as law for the whole world, ex- 
 plains how we come to find the observance of a seventh day 
 as sacred, by universal custom, mentioned in such ancient 
 writers as Homer, Hesiod, and Callimachus. Nor can any 
 appointment be imagined more fit for keeping up an ap- 
 pearance of religion among mankind, than this. Stated 
 solemnities, returning periodically, have, by the wisdom 
 of all lawgivers, been thought the best expedients, for 
 keeping up the lasting remembrance of remarkable events. 
 And it is evident, that no event better deserved to be kept 
 in remembrance than that of the completing of the work 
 of creation ; till such time as the work of redemption, 
 the second and best creation of man, was completed in the 
 resurrection of the Saviour of the world. Upon which 
 the first christians sanctified the first day of the week, and, 
 according to the best authority now to be had, the seventh 
 likewise ; though neither with the strictness required by 
 the Mosaic constitution ; but with that decent liberty, with 
 which Christianity makes its votaries free. 
 
 The design of creating the human species, was to put 
 them in the way toward such a happiness as should be fit 
 and suitable to the nature of free moral agents. This ren- 
 dered it necessary to place them in a state of discipline ; 
 the onlv possible method for learning virtue; and weaccord- 
 
 3 H 
 
4-2G OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 ingly find a lesson of obedience* prescribed them imme- 
 diately on their coming into existence. A law, to all ap- 
 pearance, very easy to keep. Only to abstain wholly from 
 one particular indulgence, being at liberty, within the 
 bounds of moderation, with respect to others. In the 
 state of things at that time, it would not have been easy 
 to prescribe a particular trial, which should not turn upon 
 the government of passion or appetite. Being the only 
 two on the face of the earth, they could not be guilty of 
 a breach of duty to fellow-creatures. And with the fre- 
 quent intercourse, scripture gives us reason to think, they 
 had with angels, and celestial beings, they could hardly 
 bring themselves to any positive violation of their duty to 
 God ; and were under no temptation to neglect it. That 
 they should fall into this fatal transgression of the first law 
 given for trial of their obedience, was to be expected from 
 beings newly created, and wholly unexperienced and un- 
 principled. Thus we see, that young children have no 
 fixed principles sufficient to prevent their yielding to 
 temptation : for virtue is an attachment to rectitude, and 
 abhorrence of all moral evil, arising from reason, experi- 
 ence, and habit. But though this, and other deviations 
 from obedience, were to be expected from the first of man- 
 kind, it does not follow, that such deviations were wholly 
 innocent. Pitiable undoubtedly their case was, and the 
 rather, in that they were misled by temptation from a 
 wicked being more experienced than themselves. Accord- 
 ingly their case, and that of the rest of the species, has 
 found such pity, and such interpositions have been made 
 in their favour, as we have reason, from scripture, to 
 suppose other offending orders of beings, particularly the 
 fjllen angels, have not been favoured with. For it is ex- 
 pressly said, that nothing equivalent to the christian scheme 
 restoration and salvation has been planned out in favour 
 of them ; but that they are left to the consequences of 
 their disobedience. 
 
 The natural tendency of the least deviation from moral 
 rectitude is so dreadfully and extensively fatal, as to render 
 it highly necessary that the righteous Governor of the 
 World should inflict some signal and permanent mark of 
 
 * This point is not here staged as the author now thinks it ongfit. See the 
 note, page 253. 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 427 
 
 his displeasure on the occasion of the first transgression of 
 the first of the species. As a wise father, who has found his 
 child once guilty of a breach of truth, or any other foul 
 crime, seems at first to disbelieve it, and then punishes 
 him with the loss of his favour for a very long time after, 
 and otherwise ; in such a manner as may be likely to make 
 a lasting impression on his mind, and deter him from a re- 
 petition of his fault. Scripture informs us, accordingly , that 
 immediately upon the first offence, the transgressors, and 
 in them the whole species, were sunk, from their natural 
 immortality, and condemned to a state obnoxious to death. 
 Whether eating the forbidden fruit was not the natural 
 as well as judicial cause of disease and death, it is needless 
 to dispute : but what is said of the tree of life in the book 
 of Genesis, and afterwards in the Apocalypse, as if it were 
 a natural antidote, or cure for mortality, and the means of 
 preserving life, is very remarkable. 
 
 Death, the consequence of the first transgression, and 
 which has been merited by innumerable succeeding of- 
 fences, was pronounced upon mankind, on purpose to 
 be to all ages a standing memorial of the Divine displea- 
 sure against disobedience. With the same view also, 
 scripture informs us, the various natural evils, of the bar- 
 renness of the earth, inclement seasons, and the other grie- 
 vances, under which nature at present groans, were inflict- 
 ed ; that men might no where turn their eyes or their 
 thoughts, where they should not meet a caveat against vice 
 and irregularity. 
 
 Here I cannot help observing, by the by, in how ridic- 
 ulous a light the scripture account of the fatal and import- 
 ant consequences of the first transgression shows the 
 usual superficial apologies made by wretched^ mortals in 
 excuse of their vices and follies. One crime is the effect 
 of thoughtlessness. They did not, forsooth, consider how 
 bad such an action was. Another is a natural action. 
 Drunkenness is only an immoderate indulgence of a natu- 
 ral appetite ; and so on. Have such excuses as these been 
 thought sufficient in the case before us? The eating of the 
 forbidden fruit was only indulging a natural appetite 
 directly contrary to the Divine command. And it is very 
 likely, that our 'first parents did not duly attend to all the 
 probable consequences of their transgression. But nei- 
 
428 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 th< r of these apologies, nor the inexperience of the offen- 
 ders, nor iheir being overcome by temptation, were suf- 
 ficient to avert the Divine displeasure, the marks of which, 
 we and our world bear to this hour. Disobedience to a 
 known law given by our Creator and Governor, is always 
 to be iooked upon with horror. And no false apology 
 ought to be thought of: for we may assure ourselves, none 
 will be admitted before our All-se"cing Judge, who is not 
 to be deceived. 
 
 The next remarkable object of our consideration, in this 
 general survey of scripture, is a dark prophecv of a eon- 
 quest to be gained, by one miraculously descended of our 
 species, over the grand enemy and first seducer of man- 
 kind ; which also implies some comfortable hopes of a res- 
 toration of the human race to the Divine favour. 
 
 The next dispensation of heaven, which we read of in 
 scripture, is that most awful and remarkable judgment 
 of the universal deluge, by which the human race were, 
 for the universal corruption of their manners, at once 
 swept off the face of the earth, and die world cleansed from 
 the impurity of its inhabitants. Nothing can be conceiv- 
 ed more proper for making a powerful and lasting im- 
 pression on mankind, or convincing them of the Divine 
 abhorrence of vice and disobedience, than to be informed 
 that it occasioned the cutting off, or unmaking, the whole 
 species, except eight persons, whom their singular virtue 
 preserved amidst the general wreck of nature! 
 
 It is remarkable, that after the flood, we find the period 
 of man's life considerably reduced below the standard of 
 it in the Antediluvian age. This is no more than was to 
 be expected* considering what use the ancients had made 
 of the great length of life they enjoyed. The abridging 
 the term of human life is also* a standing memorial of the 
 Divine displeasure against vice. It naturally tends, by- 
 bringing death nearer the view of even the youngest, to 
 lessen men's attachment to the present state, and lead them 
 to think of one better and more lasting. By this means 
 also, the opportunities of offending being lessened, the 
 guilt and punishment of wretched mortals conies to be very 
 considerably diminished. 
 
 The laws given to Xoah upon his coming out of the 
 ark, seems to be intended for mankind in general, as he 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 429 
 
 was the common father of all who have lived since his 
 time. And we know of no general repeal of them. The 
 liberty of killing animals for food is derived wholly from 
 hence; a right which we could not otherwise pretend to. 
 Nor can the opposers of the Divine authority ol scripture, 
 show any pretence for killing a living creature for food, 
 or any shadow of the title which the- human species have 
 to the life of any creature whatever, but this grant from the 
 Author of life, and Maker of all creatures, w ho alone has a 
 right to dispose of the lives of his creatures. 
 
 The command for putting to dea 1 h every murderer 
 without exception, which law is no where repealed, seems 
 effectually to cut off all power of pardoning <hat atrocious 
 crime. And many crowned heads have according!} made it 
 a rule never to extend their mercy to offenders of that sort. 
 
 As to the prohibition of blood, its obligation en us has 
 been disputed. But, as the blood is the seat of almost 
 every disease, and is a gross, unwholesome, and nauseous 
 substance, consisting of earth, salt, and phlegm, the best 
 wav is evidentlv to abstain from it, and so make sure of 
 avoiding a breach of a prohibition. And indeed, in all 
 doubtful cases, prudence w ill always direct to keep on the 
 safe side. At the same time, the excessive scrupulousness 
 of the Jexvs about the least particle of blood is absurd. 
 The prohibition is only against eating an animal with the 
 blood in it. And the intention was probably two-fold. One 
 forthe advantage of health; tt e other religious; that, in shed- 
 ding the blood of the animal, a libation or offering might 
 thereby be paid to the Lord of life, and Giver of ali gifts. 
 
 The account we have in scripture of the building of the 
 tower of Babel, the confusion of tongues, and scattering 
 the people abroad into different countries, is most naturally 
 solved by supposing their desig-n to have been, to set up 
 an universal empire, whose established religion should be 
 idolatry and polytheism. This being quite contrary to the 
 Divine intention in blessing mankind with a revelation 
 from himself, it was not fit, that it should be suffered to 
 take place, at a time when there was no nation in the w orlci 
 in which the worship of the true God prevailed. The 
 disappointment of such a design is therefore a Divine dis- 
 pensation fit to be recorded in scripture. 
 
 The destruction of the cities of the Plain, for their- 
 
450 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 abominable and unnatural vices, is a Divine judgment very 
 fit to be related in the records of the dispensations of God 
 to mankind. For such exemplary vengeance on the inhab- 
 itants of whole towns, upon kingdoms and empires, and 
 upon the whole world together, as, we have authentic ac- 
 counts of in scripture, shows, that numbers, instead of al- 
 leviating, do in fact aggravate the guilt of offenders, and 
 draw down a swifter and surer destruction. When we 
 read in scripture of kingdoms broken in pieces, of cities 
 destroyed by fire from Heaven, of nations partly driven 
 from their own country, and scattered abroad over the 
 face of the earth, and partly given up to be massacred by 
 a bloody enemy ; and cf the whole inhabitants of the 
 world swept at once into a watry grave ; all for vices fash- 
 ionable in those times, and patronized by the great ; when 
 we read such accounts of the effects of following fashion 
 and imitating great examples, we must have very little 
 thought, if we can bring ourselves to imagine, that, there 
 is any safety in giving up conscience to fashion, or that 
 such an excuse will at all alleviate our guilt, or punish- 
 ment. While we are in tlie full pursuit and enjoyment of 
 folly and vice, we rejoice in going along with the multitude 
 not considering, how much we shall wish hereafter, that 
 we had been singular and unfashionable, like the illustri- 
 ous heroes of ancient times, jXoah, Lot, and Abraham, who 
 had the courage to stand the empty raillery of their con- 
 temporaries; singular in their virtue, and singular in the 
 reward of it. Those, who now encourage us in vice and 
 folly, will not hereafter assist us in suffering their appoint* 
 ed consequences, And the appearance of God, angels, 
 and just men, on the side of virtue at last, will make anoth- 
 er sort of show for keeping its votaries in countenance, 
 than that of the fine folks does now for the support of the 
 opposite practice. 
 
 The most remarkable instance that ever was given of 
 the Divine approbation, and distinguishing favour for sin- 
 gular goodness, is in the case of Abraham. This venera- 
 ble patriarch, according to the scripture account, was a 
 faithful worshipper of the true God, while die whole world 
 was stink in idolatry and superstition. He is on that ac- 
 count honoured with the glorious titles of Father of the 
 Faithful, and Friend of God ; appointed head ol the fam- 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 431 
 
 ilv, from whence the Messiah was to spring ; and his pos- 
 terity chosen of God for a peculiar people, the keepers of 
 the Divine oracles, and the only witnesses for the true God, 
 against an idolatrous world. He himself is called from 
 his own countrv, and directed by Divine authority to re- 
 move to a distant land ; he is tried and improved by diffi- 
 culties ; for hardships are often marks of the Divine favour, 
 rather than the contrary. That the honours shown him in 
 consequence of his singular piety might be conspicuous 
 to the whole world, they do not drop with him ; but are 
 continued to his posterity, who have been, and are likely 
 to be, the most remarkable people on earth, and distin- 
 guished from all others, as long as the world lasts. 
 ' It is very remarkable, that there is hardly a great cha- 
 racter in scripture, in which we have not an express account 
 of some blemish. A very strong presumption, that the 
 narration is taken from truth ; not fancy. Of this illustri- 
 ous pattern of heroic and singular virtue, some instances 
 of shameful timidity, and diffidence in the Divine provi- 
 dence, are related. Of Moses some marks of peevishness 
 are by himself confessed. The character of the divine 
 psalmist is shaded with some gross faults. Solomon, the 
 wisest of men, is recorded to have been guilty of the great- 
 est folly. Several of the prophets are censured for their 
 misbehaviour. The weakness and timidity of the apostles 
 in general, in forsaking their Master in his extremity, are 
 faithfully represented by themselves, and even the aggra- 
 vated crime of denying him with oaths (to say nothing of 
 Judas' treachery) not concealed. This is not the strain 
 of a romance. The inventors of a plausible story would 
 not have purposely disparaged the characters of their he- 
 roes in such a manner, to gain no rational end whatever. 
 
 One useful and noble instruction from this remarkable 
 mixture in the characters of the scripture- worthies, is, That 
 human nature, in its present state, is at best greatly defec- 
 tive, and liable to fatal errors, which at the same time, if 
 not persisted in, but reformed, do not hinder a character 
 from being predominately good, or disqualify a person 
 from the Divine mercy ; which, it is to be hoped, has been 
 the case of many in all ages, nations, and religions, though 
 none perfect. Which Leaches us the proper course we 
 ought to take, when we discover in ourselves any wicked 
 
432 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 tendency, or have fallen into any gross error ; to wit, Not 
 to give ourselves up to despair; but to resolve bravely to 
 reform it, and recover our virtue. 
 
 We are told in scripture, that the descendants of Abra- 
 ham were, by a peculiar providence, carried into Egypt. 
 The design of this was, probably, to communicate to that 
 people, the parents of learning in those early times, some 
 knowledge of the God of Abraham which might remain 
 after they were gone from thence, and from them might 
 spread to the other nations around. The signal miracles 
 wrought by Moses ; the ten immediate judgments inflict- 
 ed upon the people of Egypt; the deliverance of the Is- 
 raelites from their bondage, with a high hand, in open de- 
 fiance of the Egyptian power, under the conduct of a 
 shepherd ; and the destruction of the whole Egyptian drmy 
 in their endeavour to stop their flight ; these conspicuous 
 interpositions ought to have convinced that people, that 
 the God whom the Israelites worshipped, was superior to 
 their baffled idol and brute deities. But bigotry and the 
 force of education, are hardly to be conquered by any 
 means whatever. 
 
 We have an account in scripture of Moses" 1 conducting 
 the Israelites through the vast desart of Arabia, for forty 
 years together, with a continued series oi miraculous in- 
 terpositions, (their march itself one of the greatest mira- 
 cles) in order to their establishment in the country appoint- 
 ed them. The design of their not being sooner put in 
 possession of the promised country, was, as we are inform- 
 ed by Aloses himseif, to break and punish their perverse 
 and rebellious temper, for which reason also, only two 
 of those, who came out of Egypt, reached the promised 
 countrv : all the rest dying: in the wilderness. Nor did 
 even Moses himself attain the happiness of enjoying the 
 promised land; which he also foresaw he should not, 
 and therefore could have no selfish views for himself, in 
 putting himself at the head of this unruly people, to wan- 
 der ^U his life, and at last perish in a howling wilderness; 
 when he might have lived in ease and luxury in the Egyp- 
 tian court. And that he had no scheme for aggrantiiz rig 
 his family is evident from his leaving them in the station 
 of common Leyites. 
 
 The people of Israel, arriving at the promised country, 
 
OF REVEALED RFXIGIONT. 433 
 
 proceed by Divine command, to extirpate the whole peo- 
 ple, who then inhabited it, and to take possession of it 
 for themselves and their posterity. And there is no doubt, 
 but any other people may, at any time, do the same, upon 
 the same authority. For, He, who made the earth, may 
 give the kingdoms of it to whom he will. And it is fit, that 
 they who are not worthy to inherit a good land, should 
 be driven out of it. Which was the case with the people, 
 who inhabited the land of Canaan, upon the arrival of the 
 Israelites there. For at that time, we are told, the meas- 
 ure of their iniquity was full. The Israelites therefore 
 were authorised utterly to destroy them, for their enor- 
 mous wickedness ; and to take possession of their coun- 
 try, not on account of their own goodness ; but, as ex- 
 pressly and frequently declared, in remembrance of Abra- 
 ham, the pious founder of the nation. If the ancient Pa?an 
 inhabitants of Canaan were driven out before the Israel- 
 ites, as a proof of God's displeasure against tlteir idolatry, 
 and other crimes, nothing could be a more proper warn- 
 ing to the people of Israel to avoid falling into the same 
 vices, which they saw bring utter extirpation upon ti.e 
 natives of the country. Nor could any surer proof be 
 given the nations around, of the superiority of the God 
 of the Israelites, to the idols they worshipped, than his 
 giving victory to his votaries (a seemingly fugitive, unarm- 
 ed, mixed multitude of men, women, and children) over 
 powerful and warlike nations, under regular discipline, 
 and in their own country. 
 
 Here is again, another pregnant instance of the differ- 
 ent consequences of virtue, and of vice. Several great 
 and powerful kingdoms overturned for national wickedness, 
 
 It is evident from the strain of scripture, that the peo- 
 ple of Israel were set up as an example to all nations, of 
 God's goodness to the obedient, and severity to disobe- 
 dience. It was from the beginning, before their entrance 
 upon the promised land, foretold them by Moses, that, if 
 they continued attached to the worship of the true God, 
 and" obedient to his laws, they should be great and happy 
 above all nations ; the peculiar care of Heaven, and the 
 repository of the true religion : But if they revolted from 
 their God, and degenerated into idolatry and vice, they 
 were, as a punishment, to be driven out of their couiury, 
 
 3 I 
 
134 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 and scattered into all nations under heaven. Which pun- 
 ishment was also to turn to the general advantage of man- 
 kind, as the more pious among them would naturally carry 
 the knowledge of the true God into all the countries where 
 they were scattered ; which happened accordingly. 
 
 In order to the settlement of this remarkable people in 
 the land appointed them, as a theocracy, or government 
 immediately under God, a body of civil laws is given them 
 directly from heaven by the hand of Moses ; a visible su- 
 pernatural glory, called, the Shekinah, abiding constantly 
 among them, as an emblem of the Divine Presence, and 
 an oracle to have recourse to in all difficulties. A civil 
 polity established for them, calculated in the best manner 
 possible for preventing avarice, ambition, corruption, ex- 
 orbitant riches, oppression, or sedition among themselves, 
 and attacks from the surrounding nations upon them, or 
 temptations to draw them into a desire of conquest : in 
 which last particulars, the Jewish constitution exceeded 
 the Spartan, the most perfect of all human schemes of 
 government, and the best calculated to secure universal 
 happiness. 
 
 In a theocracy, or Divine government, it was to be 
 expected, that religion should be the foundation of the 
 civil constitution. And had that people been able to bear 
 a purely spiritual scheme of religion, there is no doubt, 
 but such a one had been given them. As it is, we plainly 
 trace their laws up to their Divine original. In the decaloo-ue, 
 the foundation of their whole legislation, we find the very 
 first law sets forth the Divine scheme in separating them 
 from the other nations of the world, viz. To keep up, in 
 one country at least, the knowledge and worship of the 
 true God, against the universal idolatry and superstition, 
 which prevailed in the rest of the world. The foundation 
 of all their laws, civil and religious, is therefore laid in the 
 first commandment; in which they are expressly forbid to 
 hold any other deity, but that of the Supreme. As their 
 whole law is summed up in the two great precepts of lov- 
 ing God, and loving their fellow-creatures. 
 
 In this compend of the original law given to the Jews, 
 it is extremely remarkable, that these two grand precepts 
 are directly obligatory upon the mind. Which proves 
 either, that this body of laws was given by Him who knows 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 435 
 
 the inward motions of the mind, as well as the outward 
 actions, and can punish the irregularities of the one, as 
 well as the other, or that the author of it, supposing it a 
 mere human invention, was a man of no manner of thought 
 or consideration. For what mere human lawgiver, who was 
 in his senses, could think of making a prohibition, which 
 he never could punish, nor so much as know, whether his 
 laws were kept or violated ? But the whole character of 
 Moses, the wisdom of the laws he framed for the peo- 
 ple of Israel, his plan of government, preferable to the 
 best human schemes and which aecoidingly continued 
 longer than any of them ever did, without the addition, or 
 repeal of one law ; these show this most ancient and ven- 
 erable legislator to have been above any such gross absurdi- 
 ty, as would have appeared in making laws obligatory on the 
 mind, which is naturally free, and whose motions are cog- 
 nizable by no judge, but the Searcher of hearts ; and all 
 this without any authority above human. And, that inten- 
 tions, as well as actions, were accordingly commonly pun- 
 ished in that people, is plain from their history. But to pro- 
 ceed. 
 
 In the second commandment, the worship even of the 
 true God, by images or representations, is prohibited, as 
 leading naturally to unworthy ideas of a pure, uncorpo- 
 real, infinitely perfect mind; and as symbolizing with the 
 idolatry of the nations round. In the third, the due rever- 
 ence for the name, and consequently the attributes, and 
 honours of the Divine Majesty, is secured by a most awful 
 threatening against those, who should be guilty of any 
 irreverent manner of treating the tremendous name of God. 
 And the fourth sets apart one day in seven, as sacred to 
 God and religion. 
 
 The remaining six laws secure the observance of duty 
 with respect to the life, chastity, property, and reputation 
 of others ; which set of laws are very properly founded in 
 due reverence to parents, from whom all relative and 
 social obligations take their rise. And in the tenth com- 
 mandment, there is again another instance suitable to the 
 Divine authority, which enacted those laws ; this precept 
 being obligatory on the mind only, and having no regard 
 to any outward action. 
 
 The people of Israel, as observed above, were of a tern- 
 
436 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 per too gross and earthly to be capable of religion, like 
 t i Christian, wholly spiritual. Those early ages of the 
 ■world were not sufficiently improved, to be, in general, 
 fit for any thing above mere sense ; or however, where 
 more likelv to be affected by what was fit to act upon the 
 senses, than what might-be addressed to the understand- 
 ing. A body of religious ceremonies was therefore in.. 
 corporated with, and made a part of their polity, or con- 
 stitution. But even in them, the ultimate design of sepa- 
 rating that people from all others, is ever}' where visible, 
 and almost every particular holds it forth. For the reli- 
 gious cert monies mav in general be considered as tending 
 to give typical rt presentations of the Christian scheme, 
 which was the finishing of all the Divine dispensations ; 
 under which head may be comprehended the various sacri- 
 fices and obligations, and to keep the people continually 
 in mind of their being in a state of guilt before God ; 
 for which purpose the ceremonial purifications were pro- 
 perly adapted ; to prevent their deviating into idolatry, by 
 giving them a religion, which might employ them, and in 
 some respect suit their gross apprehensions; accordingly, 
 the ceremonies of the law are in scripture called imperfect 
 statutes, and carnal ordinances; to prove a yoke andpunish- 
 ment for their frequent tendency to idolatry, and image- 
 worship; the ceremonial law is therefore called in scrip- 
 ture an intolerable yoke; and to convey many noble mor- 
 als under sensible signs; of which one considerable one 
 may be, That by the frequent infliction of death on the 
 victims offered, they might never be suffered to forget, 
 that death is the wages of sin. 
 
 We have in scripture the history of that most extraordi- 
 nary people, partly related, and partly predicted, during a 
 period of above three thousand years, making a continued 
 series of miraculous interpositions (for their present state is 
 as much so, as any of the past) in which the various unex- 
 ampled vicissitudes they have undergone, and which thcy 
 are yet to pass through, are evidently owing to direct inter- 
 positions of Divine Providence, and are all along the im- 
 mediate consequence of their behaviour to their God. 
 
 Thus, to mention a few remarkable instances, if they 
 murmur against Moses in the wilderness, and worship 
 idols of their own making, their carcasses fall there, and 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 437 
 
 none of them is allowed to enter the promised land, which 
 is given to their children. If they avaricious!) , and con- 
 trary to command, keep the spoils of the heathenish ene- 
 mv, they are vanquished in the next engagement. If they 
 be obedient to God, and attack their enemies in full con- 
 fidence of the Divine strength, they conquer. If one king 
 sets up the worship of idols, the Divine vengeance pun- 
 ishes him and his people. If another destroys the high 
 places, where those infamous rives were celebrated, ali goes 
 well in his time. If a succession of inspired prophets is 
 raised among them, to keep them in mind of their allegi- 
 ance to God, and the) put them to death, one after another, 
 for their unacceptable freedom, in reproving; the prevailing 
 vices of both king and people, and deviate, from time to 
 time, through the infection of the neighbouring countries, 
 into idolatry and vice, they are carried away captive to 
 Babylon. If they repent of their fatal degeneracy, and 
 remember their God, whom they have forsaken, he turns 
 their captivity, and brings about their restoration to their 
 own land once more. And lastly, if they fill up the mea- 
 sure of their iniquity by imbruing their wicked hands in 
 the blood of their Messiah, they are totally rooted out of 
 the land, which was given to their fathers ; their temple is 
 demolished ; their country given to the Gentiles, and them- 
 selves so scattered abroad in all nations, that greater num- 
 bers of them may be found almost in any country than 
 their own ; and to this dispersion which has already con- 
 tinued for upwards of seventeen hundred years, is added, 
 according to the prediction of Moses, such uncommon 
 distress, as is not to be equalled in the history of any other 
 nation. 
 
 The early and total dispersion of the ten tribes, without 
 any return hitherto (though it is expected, according to 
 ancient prophecy, in the last ages of the world) ought to 
 have been considered bv them as an awful warning of what 
 the remaining part of that people might expect to be their 
 own fate, if they proved disobedient. And from the his- 
 tory of the whole twelve tribes, one of the noblest and 
 most important morals may be drawn, viz. That a nation, 
 may expectto prosper, or sink, according as it is favoured 
 by Divine providence, or $he contrary ; and that therefore, 
 virtue is the only sure foundation of national happiness. 
 
438 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 But after all their irregularities and degeneracies from 
 their Gud, and his obedience and worship, they are all, 
 (the posterity of the ten tribes, as well as the two) accord- 
 ing to ancient prophecy, to be finally replaced in their 
 own country, in greater happiness and glory than ever. 
 All which peculiar honours, important dispensations, and 
 singular interpositions for this people, the posterity of 
 Abraham, are intended as a standing proof, during a period 
 of near four thousand years already, and how much longer 
 God knows, of what value in the sight of God, the sin 
 gular piety of that venerable patriarch was, for whom it 
 seems as if he could not (so to speak) do favours enough 
 even to the -latest posterity of him who had greatly stood 
 up alone for the worship of the true God against a whole 
 world sunk in idolatry. 
 
 Prophecy makes a very considerable part of revelation. 
 In the predictions of scripture, there is found some account 
 of the future fate of many of the empires and cities which 
 have made the" greatest figure in the world. From whence 
 we learn, that the author of prophecy is the God of the 
 Gentiles as well as of the Jews. That neither his presence, 
 nor his power, is limited to the affairs of any one nation 
 whatever. 
 
 No branch of scripture prophecy is so interesting to us 
 as those which hold forth the coming of the Messiah and 
 his kingdom, which shine more and more clearly from 
 the first obscure one given immediately after the fall, 
 u That the Seed of the woman should bruise the Serpent's 
 head;" down through a period of four thousand years, 
 to those plain ones given by Zacharias, the priest, Swieon, 
 Anna, and John the baptist, his immediate fore-runner ; 
 and thus the important designs of God, with regard to 
 mankind, opened by degrees, every great prophecy car- 
 rying on the view to the last glorious ages ; till at length 
 our saviour himself comes as a light into the world, and 
 carries his sublime informations and heavenly precepts 
 immensely beyond what had been done by all the prophets, 
 law-givers, and philosophers, opening a prospect into eter- 
 nity, and bringing life and immortality to light. Of pro- 
 phecy more hereafter. 
 
 The history of our Saviour's birth, life, miracles, doc- 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 439 
 
 trine, predictions, death, resurrection, and ascension, makes 
 a very considerable part of scripture. 
 
 The christian scheme itself may be considered as the 
 publication of an act of grace to a rebellious world, and 
 of the terms upon which God will mercifully receive man- 
 kind into favour. The sublime, the interesting, and com- 
 fortable views it exhibits, are these : 
 
 God, the original of all being, the father of mankind, 
 who brought the species into existence with a view wholly 
 to their happiness, willing to forgive his offending, guilty 
 creatures upon any terms consistent with the honour of 
 his government ; but at the same time displeased with 
 vice and irregularity, and not to be reconciled to offend- 
 ers, but upon proper conditions. Or in other words, the 
 christian religion represents almighty God in the twofold 
 character of the wise and righteous governor of the moral 
 world, and of the tender and merciful father of his crea- 
 tures. 
 
 The christian scheme represents the human species, 
 who were originally, as all orders of rational beings, ob- 
 liged to a perfect obedience to the Divine authority, and, 
 in consequence of that, insured of a happy immortality, 
 universally degenerate, and become obnoxious to punish- 
 ment by disobedience. Which renders some expedient 
 necessary for saving them from destruction, consistently 
 with the dignity of the Divine government. 
 
 The third character concerned in the christian scheme, 
 is the Messiah, the Son of God, who is in it exhibited 
 as leaving his celestial state, and assuming the human 
 nature, to give up voluntarily his life for the sins of man- 
 kind, in order to their being restored to a capacity of par- 
 don upon repentance and reformation. 
 
 In the blameless life of this glorious person, while on 
 earth, a perfect example is set before mankind, of obedi- 
 ence to the Divine laws ; and in his sufferings, of patience 
 and resignation to the will of God. 
 
 In his doctrines, the perfections of God are more clearly 
 manifested to mankind, than by any, or all the other 
 teachers that ever appeared, the evil of vice, the excel- 
 lency of virtue, and their respective connexions with hap- 
 piness and misery, more fully set forth. The dignity of 
 the human nature more gloriously manifested in the im- 
 
440 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 portance of the scheme for the restoration of man, and 
 the high elevation to which Christianity teaches to aspire. 
 The proper and acceptable* method of worshipping God, 
 dec! .red. '1 he certainty of obtaining pardon upon repent- 
 ance and reformation. The future resurrection of the body, 
 and the everlasting and increasing happiness of the whole 
 man, ascertained beyond doubt. 
 
 In his laws, the whole duty of man is more fully and 
 pc rfectly declared, and with an authority to which no other 
 lawgiver could pretend ; which authority he confirms by 
 unquestionable miracles and predictions fully accomplish- 
 ed ; by conferring on his followers the power of working 
 miracles ; and especially by rising from the dead, accord- 
 ing to his own prediction. The substance of the precep- 
 tive part of Christianity is contained in the following para- 
 graph. 
 
 On account of the death and intercession of the Messiah, 
 that perfect and blameless obedience, which is naturally 
 the indispensable duty of man, and all rational creatures, 
 the defect of which made an expiation and intercession 
 necessary, is gracioush dispensed with; and instead of it, 
 through repentance for all our offences, which implies the 
 reformation of them, as far as human frailty will admit, 
 and a candid reception and steady belief of the Christian 
 religion, arid sincere endeavours to obey its laws, and to 
 attain the perfection of its graces and virtues, accepted, 
 and made the condition of pardon and everlasting happi- 
 ness : Which are, love, reverence, gratitude, and obedi- 
 ence to God. Love, gratitude, and obedience to Christ; 
 through whom, as the appointed intercessor, we are by rev- 
 elation taught to address the Almighty father of all, and 
 whose death we are to commemorate according to his ap- 
 pointment. Thankfulness to the Holy Spirit, the Comfor- 
 ter and Inspirer. Benevolence to men. Temperance with 
 respect to their own passions and appetites. Humility, 
 meekness, chastity, purity of heart, integrity in thought and 
 word ; mercy, charity, and the performance of all the social 
 and relative duties of life; forgiving of injuries, loving 
 enemies, prudence without cunning ; zeal without rancour; 
 steadiness without obstinacy ; contempt of riches, honours, 
 pleasures, and all worldly things ; courage to stand up for 
 the truth in spite of the applause or threatenings of m 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 441 
 
 attention above all things to the concerns of futurity : vi- 
 gilance against temptations from within, and from the al- 
 lurements of the world, and perseverance to the end in as- 
 piring after the inestimable prize of a glorious and happy 
 immortality. 
 
 Christianity proposes the noblest motives to obedience 
 that can be conceived, and the fittest for influencing such 
 an order of beings as mankind. The most sordid and stu- 
 pid is likely to be alarmed by the threatenings of a punish- 
 ment inconceivably terrible, and of immense duration. 
 The natural consequence of which fear is, its beingdeterrcd 
 from vice, and forced to think of reforming. From whence 
 the next step is into sobriety, or negative goodness : which 
 leads naturally to the practice of direct virtue ; and, as 
 practice produces habit, the issue to be expected is, a habit 
 of virtue ; an attachment to goodness ; farther and farther 
 degrees of improvement ; and in the end such a perfection 
 in the government of passion and appetite, in benevolence 
 to mankind, and piety to God, as will, upon the Christian 
 plan, qualify for future happiness. 
 
 Thus the denunciation of future punishment for vice, 
 which Christianity sets forth, is evidently a wise and proper 
 means for promoting virtue : especially, if we add the en- 
 couragement of certainty of pardon upon repentance and 
 reformation, which important point we owe wholly to rev- 
 elation. And if we also take in the views of the supernat- 
 ural assistance which Christianity encourages well-disposed 
 persons to expect in their conflict with temptation antj 
 vice ; and those high honours, and that sublime happiness, 
 which revealed religion sets before mankind, as the con- 
 sequence of a victorious perseverance in virtue. The fit- 
 ness of such motives for powerfully influencing such an 
 order of beings as the human species, is a proof, that the 
 religion which proposes them is of Him who formed the 
 human species ; who endowed mankind with reason, with 
 hope, and fear, and made the mind susceptible of habit, 
 and stamped upon it the idea of immortality. For none 
 but He, who formed the mind, and perfectly knew its 
 springs, could address it in a way so proper for influencing 
 it, and for bringing it, in a consistency with its nature and 
 present state, to the steady love and practice of virtue. 
 
 We have likewise in scripture an account of the cstab 
 
 3K 
 
442 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 lishment of the christian religion, and the firm adherence 
 of its first professors in spite of persecution. Addresses 
 from the first propagators of Christianity to their proselytes, 
 explaining more fully the doctrines of religion, solving 
 their difficulties, encouraging them to constancy, and giv- 
 ing them useful directions for the conduct of life. And 
 predictions of the future state of the church, its degeneracy 
 into Popery, and the consummation of all things. 
 
 Here the amazing scheme, being completed, comes to 
 a period. The Divine dispensations with regard to man- 
 kind, in their present state, having been finished in the es- 
 tablishment of the christian religion in the world, nothing 
 more is to be expected, but the completion of the predic- 
 tions yet unfulfilled, of which the chief are, the restoration 
 of the Israelites and Jews to their own country, with the 
 conversion of the world in general to the christian religion, 
 which makes way for the last glorious ages ; for the reno- 
 vation and consummation of all things ; for the general 
 judgment of the whole human race, according to the char- 
 acters they have sustained in life, the condemnation and 
 Utter destruction of such of the species as shall be found 
 to have rendered themselves unworthy and incapable of the 
 Divine mercy, and the establishment of the pious and vir- 
 tuous in an everlasting state of glory and happiness, in or- 
 der to their improving and rising higher and higher to all 
 eternity. 
 
 Can any man, who only runs through this brief and im- 
 perfect sketch of the whole body of revelation, bring him- 
 self to believe that such a scheme could have been begun 
 with the beginning of the world, carried on through a suc- 
 cession of four thousand years by the instrumentality of a 
 number of different persons, who had no opportunity of 
 concerting measures together; exhibiting to the vie\y pf 
 mankind all that is great, important, and useful to be known 
 ami practised, all the Divine dispensations with respect to 
 a species of rational moral agents, the scope and purpose 
 of the whole, being wise, good, worthy of God, and suitable 
 to the wants of men, uniform in its purpose throughout, 
 teaching one grand and useful leston from the beginning 
 to the end, agreeing with itself, with the constitution and 
 course of nature, the strain of history, and the natural rea- 
 son of man, in which there appears a perfect agreement be- 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 443 
 
 tvvixt types and antitypes, doctrines and precepts, predic* 
 tions and completions, laws and sanctions, pretensions and 
 truth ; and the whole leading directly to the highest im- 
 provement and perfection of Human Nature ; can any man 
 bring himself to believe such an universal, all-comprehen- 
 sive scheme to be really no more than human contrivance? 
 But of this more hereafter- 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Considerations on some particulars in Revealed Religion. 
 
 The reader may remember, that I put off the subject of 
 Providence, though commonly reckoned a doctrine of 
 Natural Religion, till I should be upon Revelation, be- 
 cause it is from thence that it receives its principal con- 
 firmation and establishment. 
 
 The opinion, that the world, and all things animate and 
 inanimate, are by the infinite Author of all, supported in 
 their existence, and conducted in all the changes of state, 
 which they undergo, is as ancient as the belief of the Di- 
 vine existence. 
 
 As to the natural or material world, it is certain, from 
 reason and experience, that the inactivity of matter is in- 
 separable from its nature. All the laws of nature, as de- 
 duced from experience, and observation, are founded up- 
 on this axiom, That matter does necessarily continue in 
 that state in which it is at present, whether of rest or of 
 direct motion, till it be put out of that state by some liv- 
 ing agent. To imagine matter capable of itself, of chang- 
 ing its state of rest into that of motion, or of motion into 
 rest, would be supposing it something else than matter ; 
 for it is essential to the idea of matter, that it resists all im- 
 pressions made upon it. Unresisting matter is a self-con- 
 tradictory idea, as much as noisy silence, vicious virtue, 
 or the like. There is not one appearance, oreifect, in the 
 natural world, that could have been brought about by un- 
 resisting matter. Upon the inertia of matter, the whole 
 cours of nature depends. To say, that matter, however 
 modified, is capable of being made to have any tendency 
 to change its place or state, would be ascribing to it a 
 power of choosing and refusing. For before it can of it- 
 
444 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 self change its state of rest for motion, or of motion for 
 rest, it must choose for itself. If a particle of matter is 
 to move itself, which way shall it move? If you deter- 
 mine eastward, westward, southward, or northward; the 
 question immediately arises, why should it move eastward 
 rather than westward, or southward rather than northward ? 
 To ascribe thought or choice, or activity of any kind, t© 
 matter, however modified, is ascribing to it what contra- 
 diets its very nature and essence. For its nature and es- 
 sence is to continue for ever inactive. So that, wherever 
 we see a portion of matter in motion, it is certain, that it 
 is moved by the action of some living agent. Farther, if 
 we found in the natural world no motions carried on, but 
 what proceeded in direct lines, it might be conceivable, 
 that the matter of the universe had received such an im- 
 pulse at the beginning, as had continued its motions till 
 now. For, matter, put once in motion, must, if left to it- 
 self, move on in a direct course to eternity. But whoever 
 has considered the natural world, will reflect, that there 
 are a great many different motions continually going on in 
 the universe, some of which are directly contrary to others. 
 That the forces, with which bodies tend to one another, 
 and with which some solid substances cohere, are im- 
 mensely great, while the ease, with which the lightest 
 bodies pass through the space, in which those forces pre- 
 vail, makes it inconceivable, that any thing material is the 
 cause of those strong tendencies. This therefore obliges 
 us to have recourse to something immaterial, as the cause 
 of the endlessly various, complicated, and contrary ten- 
 dencies, which we see prevail in nature. In the solar sys- 
 tem, supposing, as some have fancied, a set of subtle par- 
 ticles continually flowing inward, toward the sun, to pro- 
 duce the effect of gravitation, there must be another influx 
 of the same sort of particles from all parts toward each of 
 the planets, for they too are endowed (to use the common 
 expression) with the power of attracting toward themselves 
 whatever is within the sphere of their attraction. It is ev- 
 ident, that the course of the particles, which cause gravita- 
 tion toward the sun, must be in part directly contrary to 
 that which causes the gravitation of the satellites of a plan- 
 et toward it. And the streams of particles flowing inward 
 toward each of the satellites of a planet, must be" in part 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 445 
 
 directly contrary to the course of those- which flow toward 
 the planet itself. The planet also continually changing 
 place, no possible influx of particles towards it can produce 
 the effect required, because, that direction of such influx, 
 Avhich would be favourable in one situation, must of course 
 be quite contrary in another. And upon the planet itself, 
 if there are any animals or vegetables, any material substan- 
 ces, in which there is either secretion, motion of fluids, cor- 
 ruption, decay, or renovation, the contrariety of the course 
 of the particles, by which such internal motions are carried 
 on, must be such as to produce absolute confusion ; for we 
 must at last conceive throughout all created space, an infi- 
 nite number of streams of small particles flowing in all di- 
 rections, which could, by the very supposition, produce 
 no regular motion in the material svstem. Besides, we 
 know, that the forces of attraction and gravitation are not as 
 the surfaces of bodies attracting one another; but as the 
 number of particles contained in them, which requires a 
 power that shall freely pervade the most solid bodies, not 
 merely effect their surfaces. We likewise know, that elas- 
 tic matter tends every way, or endeavours to diffuse itself 
 wider and wider, and to repel its own particles, and every 
 surrounding body. This power, or tendency (to use the 
 common improper term) is by no means consistent with 
 any theory of streams of particles flowing any one way ; 
 but is easily explicable by that of an Infinite Mind within 
 all matter. 
 
 There is, in short, no solution of the various and oppo- 
 site tendencies of the parts of the material system, that is 
 not palpably absurd, besides having recourse to an Infi- 
 nite mind, in which the visible world has its being, and by 
 which it not only was at first put into motion, like a clock 
 woundup and seta-going; but is continually, from mo- 
 ment to moment, actuated according to certain fixed rules 
 or methods, which are what we call the Laws of Nature. 
 
 If therefore we find it necessarv, on account of the ne- 
 cessary inactivity of matter, which has nothing in its na- 
 ture equal to the complicated motions, which we see in 
 the system of the world, to conclude, that the Infinite au- 
 thor of nature does continually, either mediately or imme- 
 diately, exert his indefatigable power in conducting and 
 actuating the inanimate machine ; we cannot suppose less, 
 
446 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 than that he bestows as much of his attention and super, 
 imendency upon the moral system, as upon the natural; 
 for the hitter, having been produced for the sake of the 
 former, shows the former to be of superior value. 
 
 The superintendency of a world infinite in extent, and 
 containing an infinite number of particulars, would evi- 
 dently be no more than what Infinite power and Omni- 
 presence would be fully equal to. So that the thought 
 of any shadow of difficulty in governing the universe, 
 ought never to enter into our minds. 
 
 To suppose great part of the scheme of Providence 
 carried on by the ministration of angels, or other created 
 beings, comes to the same, as ascribing all to the imme- 
 diate agency of the Supreme. For every created being 
 in the universe, the highest serapli, as well as the mean- 
 est reptile, derives all his powers from the Supreme, and 
 depends from moment to moment, upon the Universal 
 Author of existence, for his being, and the exertion of 
 all his powers. 
 
 The promiscuous distribution of happiness and misery 
 in this life, or what we commonly call good or bad for- 
 tune, is no sort of objection to the doctrine of a Provi- 
 dence. The continual and certain consequences of virtue 
 and vice respectively, the immediate interposition of hea- 
 ven, on every occasion, would have been wholly incon- 
 sistent with a state of discipline. And yet there is a gen- 
 eral scheme as visibly carried on in the moral world, as 
 in the natural ; though many particulars in both lie out 
 of the reach of our weak faculties. 
 
 To say, that it is disparaging the Divine wisdom to al- 
 lege the necessity or propriety of a continual exertion of 
 power in the natural world, which ought rather to be sup- 
 posed to have been so constituted at first as to proceed of 
 it elf, without the continued application of the Almighty- 
 hand ;' this objection duly considered, has no manner of 
 weight. For, if the material world was to exist at all, it 
 was necessary it should be what by the very nature of 
 matter it must be ; that is, inanimate and inactive. And 
 if so, it must be actuated, or be motionless, or at least, 
 it must have no complex motions. — The truth is, a self- 
 moving complicated material machine, is a contradiction 
 in terms ; and therefore what could not possibly exist. 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 447 
 
 If we consider that the Infinite mind inhabits all crea- 
 ted and uncreated space, we shall think it as proper in Him 
 to actuate continually the immense machine of the Uni- 
 verse ; to every atom of which he is immediately present, 
 as for a human mind to actuate the body it inhabits. And 
 no one in his senses ever thought it would have been bet- 
 ter, that the body should have been made to perform its 
 functions like a clock once wound up, than that it should 
 be continually, from moment to moment, at the command 
 of the mind, to actuate it at pleasure. 
 
 In the same manner, with respect to the moral world, 
 it is not lessening the wisdom or power of the universal 
 moral Governor, to suppose interpositions necessary. 
 There are various considerations which show the ooYitrary. 
 
 In general, that of the present frail and pitiable state 
 of Human Nature; the circumstance of an evil being's 
 having got an ascendency over mankind ; of the first in- 
 troduction of viee being through temptation, which may 
 be our peculiar misfortune; of our being perhaps one of 
 the lowest orders of moral agents ; these circumstances 
 may render it proper, that we at least should have some 
 extraordinary assistance given us, that there should be 
 some peculiar interpositions in our favour. Now, to sup- 
 pose a positive providential economy and superintendencv 
 carried on, is supposing the easiest possible scheme for 
 gaining such ends as might be wanted for the advantage of 
 our species. 
 
 Communities seem to require a providence, to reward 
 or punish their behaviour in their rational and public cha- 
 racter, as on occasion of the observance or breach of laws 
 of nations, or alliances. The rewards and punishments 
 of the future state will be personal. Good men, being guilty 
 of faults, ought to suffer in this world, though they come 
 to final happiness in the next ; that evil may not wholly 
 escape : which seems to infer the propriety of a provi- 
 dence, The wonderftil discovery of the perpetrators of 
 horrid crimes, particularly murder, is a strong presump- 
 tion of the truth of this doctrine. 
 
 But revelation puts this matter wholly out of doubt; as 
 it every where goes upon the supposition of a continual 
 Divine superintendency over the natural and moral world. 
 
 For it represents this world as God's world, created, 
 
448 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 preserved, continually conducted, and hereafter to be 
 judged by him. It exhibits a scheme of Divine conduct 
 of the affairs of the world in general, and of one nation 
 in particular,* which is altogether inconsistent, without 
 taking in the idea of a Providence. Prophccv, and mir^ 
 acles, of which elsewhere, necessarily suppose Divine 
 interposition. And holy scripture in a variety of places 
 expressly affirms the doctrine of Providence. " For it in- 
 forms us, 
 
 " That God preserveth, and upholdeth all things by the 
 word of his power; and that they continue to 'this day 
 according to his ordinance. That he has appointed seed 
 time and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter ; and 
 that they shall not cease, while the earth remaineth. That 
 with him is the foundation of life. That he preserves man 
 and beast, and gives food to all flesh. That in his hand 
 is the soul of every living thing, and the breath of every 
 creature. That in him we Jive, and move, and have our 
 being, who holds our souls in life, and will be our guide even 
 to death. That he preserves us, while we sleep, and when 
 we wake ; when we go out, and when we come in, even 
 from the womb, making us to dwell in safety. That he is 
 the universal King, and Judge of all, and dees according to 
 his will in the armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants 
 of the earth. That angels, archangels, principalities and 
 powers, thrones and dominions, are subject to him, and 
 that they rejoice to do his commandments, hearkening to 
 his word. That he gives fruitful seasons on earth, and 
 crowns the year with his goodness ; and again, at his pleas- 
 ure shuts up heaven, that there be no rain, and that the 
 land yield not her increase ; turning a fruitful land into bar- 
 renness, for the wickedness of them that dwell therein. 
 That the Most High rules in the kingdom of men, and 
 gives to whomsoever he wiil. That he puts down one, 
 ai.d sets another up. That by him kings reign, and prin- 
 ces bear rule. That unless he keep the city, the wateh- 
 nxn watch in vain. That he encreascs the nations; and 
 again destroys them ; that he enlarges and straitens them 
 at his pleasure. That whenever he speaks concerning a 
 nation, to build and to plant, or to pluck up and destroy 
 it, his counsel shall stand, and he will do all his pleasure-. 
 
 Sec pn^e 432. 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 449 
 
 That from him comes every good and perfect gift ; and at 
 the same time, there is no (penal) evil in the world, which 
 he has not sent. That he kills, and makes alive; that he 
 wounds, and heals ; brings down to the grave, and bring9 
 up again, at pleasure. That the preparations of the heart 
 and the answer of the tongue, are from God, who gives 
 wisdom to the wise, and knowledge to those who know 
 understanding ; and when it seems good to him, hides the 
 thing from the wise and prudent, which he reveals to babes. 
 That he makes poor, and makes rich ; brings low and lifts 
 up. That riches and honours come from him. That 
 the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong ; 
 nor bread to the wise, nor favour to men of skill; but it 
 is the hand of God, that has wrought all these things. That 
 though the horse be prepared against the day of battle, 
 safety is from God. That he makes wars to cease, and 
 sends the sword among the nations, at his pleasure. That 
 the wrath of man shall be made to work out his praise, 
 and the remainder shall be restrained. That when the lot 
 is cast, the disposing of it is of God. That he works all 
 things according to the counsel of his own will, and is 
 accountable to no one." 
 
 The truth of the doctrine of Providence is. therefore 
 established upon reason and revelation. 
 
 To proceed to another subject : The account we have 
 in scripture of our species in general suffering by the first 
 offence of our grand parents, may seem at first view some- 
 what difficult to understand ; as if it were a hardship that 
 we should be in any respect loosers by what we are innocent 
 of. That we should be in danger of being condemned to 
 any future or final punishment upon any account, but our 
 own personal voluntary guilt, is contrary to the whole tenor 
 of scripture, and would indeed render revelation, as well as 
 reason, wholly useless fo." directing us to the means of 
 working out our own salvation, ana avoiding destruction. 
 That perfect Justice should determine cne person to final 
 destruction for what was done by another, many ages 
 before his birth, at once overturns all our notions of right 
 and wrong. And if we cannot Judge of right and wrong, 
 we cannot be expected, nor should ever have been com- 
 manded, to forsake the error of our ways, and do that what 
 is lawful and right. So that this opinion grossly misrep- 
 
 3 L 
 
450 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 resents the character of the Judge of the world, and sub- 
 verts religion, natural and revealed, from the foundation. 
 But that the natural, as well as judicial effects of the first 
 violation of Divine authority, followed by innumerable 
 succeeding transgression, might be the sinking of the spe- 
 cies some degrees lower ; the subjecting them, and the 
 world they inhabit, to visible marks of Divine displeas- 
 ure ; and their being, upon the whole, of course, in a 
 situation less promising for universal virtue and happi- 
 ness ; may be reasonable enough to suppose, and may be 
 found to have been intended for valuable moral purposes. 
 For, as the case of our species is, that they have contin- 
 ued disobedient ever since the first offence, it is but rea- 
 sonable, that they be exposed to sufferings and afflictions. 
 And as the natural tendency of affliction is reformation, 
 and every instance of our world's being in a ruined state, 
 and under a curse, ought to furnish a memorial of the great 
 evil of vice ; on these considerations, the present state of 
 the world is evidently an effect of the Divine goodness, as 
 well as severity. If man is sunk below the station, in 
 which the species were first placed, he has no room for 
 complaint : for he might have been placed there at his cre- 
 ation. If our condition seems less promising for virtue 
 and happiness, than that in which the first of the species 
 were at their creation placed ; it is on the other hand to be 
 remembered, that revelation shows, very great things have 
 been done for us, more than sufficient to make up for what 
 seems disadvantages we may labour under. And thus 
 all ground of complaint is effectually precluded. 
 
 The scripture account of the destruction of mankind 
 by a general deluge, is a subject which deserves to be- 
 briefly considered. 
 
 Though it is not to be positively affirmed, that this, or 
 the other, was the true cause of a particular supernatural 
 phenomenon, or the method in which it was brought about; 
 we may yet conclude in general, that it is more suitable 
 to the ways of God, to bring about all effects, as well 
 natural, as those we call supernatural, or miraculous, by 
 certain adequate means, and, as far as possible, consist- 
 entlv with the stated laws and course of nature. That a 
 mighty wind should, according to the Scripture account, 
 separate the Jicd Sea for the passage of the people of It- 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 45 1 
 
 racl, was as proper a miracle wrought in their favour, as 
 if the immediate word or will of God had done it. And 
 if the general deluge was brought on by some pre-estab- 
 lished natural means, it was no less a Divine judgment 
 upon a race of creatures, whose wickedness was forseen, 
 than if it had been caused by the immediate exertion of 
 Omnipotence. What constitutes a particular wonderful 
 event, a proper miracle, in a theological sense, is, its be- 
 ing expressly appealed to by some person, as a confirma- 
 tion of a new pretended doctrine or mission from heaven. 
 The general deluge was accordingly foretold, and the peo- 
 ple of those ancient times forewarned of it by Noah, but 
 in vain. Should a person, pretending to a Divine mission, 
 foretel an earthquake some months or years before, and 
 an earthquake should happen exactly at the threatened 
 time, all reasonable men would yield that measure of as- 
 sent to his assertions and pretensions, which might be 
 thought justly due to the authority of one single miracle, 
 taken in conjunction with the other circumstances of his 
 own character, and that of his doctrine. Yet earthquakes 
 are effects of natural causes. And if any person thinks 
 it disparages the miracle of the flood to say, that it was 
 brought about by the instrumentality of an intervening 
 cause, the objection is the same, taking it for an imme- 
 diate effect of Divine Power. For the end being the de- 
 struction of a race of degenerate mortals, it may as well 
 be said, Why were not all struck dead in a moment by a 
 word from the mouth of God, without the instrumental- 
 ity of the suffocating element of water ? as, Why was the 
 flood brought on by the means of any intervening cause? 
 No one doubts, whether the old world was destroyed by 
 God, as an exemplary punishment for their wickedness. 
 Why should any one think it less a Divine judgment, 
 for its being brought about in a consistency with the reg- 
 ular and uniform procedure of nature, than if it had been 
 an effect quite detached from, and unconnected with the 
 universal scheme ; which is not so beautiful, so masterly, 
 nor so worthy of an universal Governor. 
 
 Since the decision of the question of the cause of the 
 tides, which puzzled all antiquity, and has been shown 
 by our incomparable philosopher to be the effect of the 
 mutual gravitation of the earth and moon ; it is very 
 
452 Or REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 easily conceivable that a nearer approach of the mooa 
 toward our earth, by a third part of her whole distance, 
 would cause an enormously high tide. If therefore 
 we suppose the moon, or any other celestial body, to ap- 
 proach very near to the earth, the effect must be such a 
 tide, as would rise higher than the highest lands, and, 
 rolling round the globe, would wash down all terrestrial 
 creatures into the deep where they must perish. As we 
 know that comets, from time to time, come from all parts 
 of the heavens, and enter into the planetary regions ; it is 
 no unnatural supposition, to imagine that a comet, pass- 
 ing near the earth at the time of the deluge, might have 
 been the appointed instrument of the Divine vengeance, 
 by producing, by means of attraction, a disruption of the 
 outward shell of this earth, under which it is probable a 
 great collection of waters was lodged ; which being by 
 attraction raised into an excessive tide, must occasion the 
 immersion and destruction of all land animals. And which 
 might in great part be afterwards absorbed into vast empty 
 caverns in the earth, which might by the same means be 
 opened for its reception, and thus the present dry land 
 left. The scripture account, of the " breaking up of the 
 fountains of the great deep," seems to countenance this 
 notion ; which whoever would examine thoroughly,, may 
 read JPhistorCs Theory of the Earth. That it is made 
 very probable in that work, that a comet did pass near the 
 annual path of the earth, about the time of the general 
 deluge, is acknowledged by the most judicious astrono- 
 mers. That, upon every theory, the account of the flood 
 is attended with difficulties, must likewise be confessed. 
 But 1 think it a satisfaction, that upon the supposition of 
 its being brought about by a comet, the possibility of it 
 is fairly made out, and even a sort of analogy to the com- 
 mon course of nature, in the tides, which at times rise 
 to such heights as to produce partial deluges. 
 
 However the flood was brought about, there are too 
 many visible and unquestionable marks of a general dis- 
 ruption of the outside of this our planet, in the hideous 
 mountains, mishapen rocks, hollow vales, and other ruin- 
 ous appearances, with quantities of sea-shells, bones of 
 animals, and large trees, found at a great depth in the 
 earth ; there are, I say, too many marks of a general con- 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 453 
 
 cussion and ruin over the whole face of the earth to leave 
 any room to doubt that it has undergone some very great 
 and universal change ; which we have all the reason in 
 the world to conclude, was no other than that of the gen- 
 eral deluge, which, as it is described in scripture, seems 
 fit to have produced exactly the effects we observe. 
 
 It is true, that telescopes discover, on the face of the 
 moon, and the planet Venus, irregularities and roughnes- 
 ses, which make an appearance somewhat like to those 
 which we may suppose might be observed from the moon 
 upon the face of our earth. But we cannot be certain, 
 that those inequalities have not been part of the original 
 make of those bodies; unless we could examine them, 
 as we can those of our own planet. So that what we ob- 
 serve of this sort upon those bodies, does in no degree affect 
 what has been said with respect to the probability that a 
 general deluge was the cause of the visibly ruinous state 
 of our earth; for we cannot be sure, that the inequalities 
 on the face of the Moon and Venus are of the same ruin- 
 ous kind with those of our world. The Moon, especially 
 differs from our planet in two essential particulars. For 
 it is certain beyond all doubt, that she has neither sea, at 
 least on the face which is always towards us, nor atmos- 
 phere of air. So that we cannot reason on any minute 
 circumstances from one to the other ; but may judge of 
 what we find in our own world, the state of which seems 
 perfectly to answer to what might have been expected to 
 be produced by such a deluge as Moses describes. 
 
 One particular, with regard to the flood, is too remark- 
 able to be omitted. We have in the book of Genesis an 
 exact account of the measures of the ark in cubits. In 
 the time of Moses, it is not to be supposed, that the world 
 was so well known, or natural history carried such a length, 
 that the variety of different species of terrestrial animals 
 should be guessed at to any nearness. So that it was to 
 be expected, the measures of the ark should be taken 
 either too small or too large, if the calculation of the room 
 necessary for the lodging seven of every clean species, and 
 two of ever)- one of the others, had been taken according 
 to mere human knowledge, or conjecture. Instead of 
 which, it is found by calculations made in our times, when 
 it is, by means of our extensive commerce over the world, 
 
454 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 known how many different speciesof terrestrial animals there 
 are in all different climes and countries; that the measures 
 we have of the ark would have afforded just sufficient 
 room lor all the creatures to be stowed in it, and one year's 
 provision. No human sagacity could, in those early times, 
 in which there was so little intercourse among theinhabi- 
 tants of different countries, have guessed at the true 
 number of different species of land animals in all the vari- 
 ous climates of the world, every one of which almost has 
 its peculiar set. It is therefore evident, that the size and 
 capacity of the ark was ordered by Divine appointment. 
 For a human architect would undoubtedly have given its 
 measures too large or too small. 
 
 There being somewhat seemingly difficult in the scrip- 
 tureacGount of those degenerate beings, the fallen angels, it 
 may be proper to throw together a lew thoughts on that head. 
 Whether the angelic species were, at the time of their 
 fail, in a first, stage of trial, such as that in which we are at 
 present, or whether they had gone through their first state 
 of discipline, and deviated afterwards, as it seems incon- 
 sistent with the nature of finite moral agents to suppose 
 them in any state out of ail danger, or possibility of devia- 
 tion ; whatever particular state, I say, they were at that time 
 in the possibility of their degenerating into disobedience 
 may be accounted for in a way comprehensible by us ; 
 though we cannot be sure, that we have the true and full 
 account of that whole matter. The most probable ac- 
 count of the transgression and degeneracy of those once 
 illustrious beings, may be, That they disallowed of the 
 just pretentions of the Messiah to be the general Governor 
 of their whole order; as the perverse Jens afterwards 
 rejected him, when he came in the flesh. To suppose that 
 the angels, now fallen, were capable of resolutely and de- 
 liberately opposing themselves to Omnipotence, or raising 
 rebellion against God, as God, is absurd. But it is no 
 way inconceivable, that they might at first question the 
 Messiah's pretentions to authority over them; which might, 
 for any thing we know, be disputable, as his mission ap- 
 peared to some even of the sincere, thought not sufficiently 
 considerate, Jews. In consequence of this we can easily 
 enough conceive the possibility of their being misled, by 
 pride, by example, and persuasion of Satan, the leader of 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 455 
 
 the adverse party, who probably himself had aspired to a 
 superiority over his fellow beings, and eould not brook a 
 rival. As to the difficulty of supposing a set of beings of 
 such superior wisdom as we commonly suppose they 
 possessed, capable of error; scripture itself expressly af- 
 firms, that the angels are chargeable with folly. Besides, 
 we pronounce rashly, when we pretend to assert, that the 
 angels were at the time of their fall greatly superior to the 
 most knowing of our species. We find indeed those who 
 kept their integrity, spoke of in scripture as raised to very 
 high degrees of elevation. But nothing can from thence 
 be argued with respect to those who fell many ages before, 
 when perhaps they might not be risen to any such degree 
 of perfection as the good part of that species now enjoy, 
 which my be the reward of their virtue and fidelity. Be- 
 sides, supposing those beings to have fallen from a state of 
 happiness to which they were raised in consequence of 
 their having with success passed through one state of trial 
 or discipline, we know not whether one stage of discipline 
 was all that was allotted them. We know not but they 
 were to pass through two, or more, as one properly speak- 
 ing seems appointed for us, though, as observed before, 
 no state of freedom can be wholly secure from all possi- 
 bility of deviation, but only more and more so, according 
 to the increasing experience, longer habitude, and greater 
 wisdom of moral agents. We know not, but the angelic 
 species were raised to the happiness, from which they fell, 
 in consequence of their going through a more advantageous 
 and easy first stage of probation, than what is ftppointed 
 us ; and that, to balance that advantage, the happiness they 
 were raised to was more precarious than that which is 
 destined for those of our species, who shall acquit them- 
 selves with honour of a more difficult one. This seems 
 no more than equitable, and natural, that the consequence 
 of an easier state of trial passed through with success 
 should be a lower degree, and more precarious kind, of 
 happiness; and of a more difficult one, a higher and more 
 certain kind of happiness. And besides, it is very proba- 
 bly the nature of all moral agents to value most, and be 
 most afraid of losing, what has cost them the greatest 
 pains to attain, and what only a few have attained. How- 
 ever it be, there is plainly no absurdity in the scripture 
 
456 OF REVEALED RELIGION - . 
 
 account of the fall of a certain number of beings, of a rank 
 prior in existence, ;nd superior in dignity to ours; nor of 
 their being driven, by a total despair of recovery to the 
 Divine favour, to a confirmed habit of perseverance in vice, 
 and opposition to all good : which, increasing, must in- 
 crease their punishment, and multiply the>r damnation. 
 That those desperate beings, who know themselves to be 
 sealed to destruction, should, as far as permitted, exercise 
 an implacable envy and hatred against our species, of whom 
 they foresee the same part will rise to that happiness, from 
 which they are irrecoverably fallen, is not to be wondered 
 at. Nero, a Duke (TAlva, a bloody father inquisitor*; 
 are not these daemons"? If we have such diabolical beings 
 in our own species, who have had so short a time to im- 
 prove in wickedness, and are still under a dispensation of 
 heavenly grace; why should we wonder at any accounts 
 we have in scripture of the confirmed wickedness of spirits 
 abandoned to despair, and who have had many thousands 
 of years to improve and harden themselves in vice ? 
 
 Some have made a difficulty of the incarnation of 
 Christ ; as if there were in that doctrine somewhat pecu- 
 liar! v hard to admit, or next to absurd. But in such gases, 
 where nothing is required to be granted, but what is anal- 
 ogous to the course of nature ; it does not seem reasonable 
 to hesitate at any supposed difficulty, which, if removed, 
 would leave another confessedly as hard to surmount. 
 How a spiritual being, of any rank whatever, comes to be 
 immured in a material vehicle, is to us wholly inconceiv- 
 able. The incarnation of a human soul is a mystery ut- 
 terly inexplicable by human sagacity. Nor is it at all 
 more incomprehensible, how an angel or archangel, should 
 animate a body, than how a human mind should. The 
 difficulty does not arise from the rank, or dignity, of the 
 spiritual being, but from the nature of spirits in general ; 
 whose power 'of animating and actuating a material vehicle, 
 and the nexus, which forms the union between two natures 
 so different, are to us wholly inconceivable,. 
 
 And as to the objection, 'of its being improbable, that a 
 being of such dignity, as that of the Messiah, should con- 
 descend to assume, for a time, the lowest station of ration, 
 al nature ; it will presently vanish, on considering the im. 
 
 page 257. 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 457 
 
 portance of the purpose, for which he did so. For if, in 
 consequence of this amazing condescension, there should, 
 in a consistence with the divine rectitude, and established 
 order of the moral world, and the freedom of the creature, 
 many thousands, perhaps millions, of our species, be raised 
 hereafter by degrees to such greatness and goodness, that 
 the present station of the archangel Gabriel will be regard- 
 ed by them as an inferior one (which will certainly one 
 day be the case) who can think any apparatus, to gain 
 such an end, too costly, or operose ? Whoever duly con- 
 siders the stupendous excellence of a nature, which, how- 
 ever mean and low at present, is yet formed capable of an 
 endless progression in every noble quality ; will not think 
 any contrivance ill bestowed, or any condescension too 
 low, to gain the moral improvement of such a species. Add 
 that condescension on a proper occasion, and for some im- 
 portant end, is suitable to a superior nature ; and peculiar- 
 ly agreeable to every great mind. And let the considera- 
 tion of the high exaltations of the Messiah, in consequence 
 of his gracious interposition for the recovery of a ruined 
 species, be taken in. Add likewise the Divine pleasure 
 of exerting a benevolence so extensive, that an eternity 
 will be employed by a race of beings, delivered b} it from 
 utter destruction, in celebrating its praises, and expressing 
 that gratitude, which every succeeding period of their hap- 
 py existence will heighten, every new enjoyment wiii in- 
 flame with ever growing raptures. 
 
 To pretend to dispute whether it was possible for man- 
 kind to be restored by any other means than those which, 
 Infinite Wisdom has chosen, is both presumptuous and 
 useless. It is our wisdom to consider what we have to do, 
 as the moral constitution of things is ; not to amuse our- 
 selves with vain speculations upon what could do us no 
 service to know, and what it is impossible we should by 
 our own sagacity ever discover. In general, it is evident, 
 that the repentance and reformation of offenders was not 
 of itself, without some additional apparatus, sufficient, con- 
 sistently with the Divine scheme, to restore a guilty order 
 of beings to a capacity of being received to pardon. For 
 Divine wisdom never uses a more operose method of pro- 
 ceeding, when one less so will answer the end. 
 
 Whether wc shall at all, in the present state, be able to 
 
 3 M 
 
458 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 determine wherein the principal propriety or necessity of 
 the death of Christ consisted, an(T how it came to be effica- 
 cious for our restoration to the Divine favour, is greatly to 
 be questioned ; as scripture has only declared to us the 
 fact, that it is chiefly by his laying down his life for man- 
 kind, which was the great end of his coming into the world, 
 that we are to be received to pardcn and mercy ; but has 
 given us no precise account of the modus of the operation 
 of his death for that purpose, nor how the ends of the Di- 
 vine government were answered by it. In general, may 
 it be said, that the consideration of so important a scheme 
 found necessary for restoring an offending order of beings, 
 is likely to strike all rational minds, who may ever come to 
 the knowledge of it, with a very awful sense of the fatal 
 evil of vice, which made it necessary. And as they must 
 see the difficulty of finding such a mediator for themselves, 
 in case of their offending, they may thereby be the more 
 effectually deterred from disobedience. It may impress 
 them with high notions of the Divine purity, and aversion 
 to evil, which made the restoration of offenders a work so 
 difficult and expensive. And. we know not how wide each 
 particular in the moral scheme of the Divine government 
 may extend. We are told in scripture, that the angels 
 desire to look into the mystery of our salvation : that some 
 of them have actually fallen from their obedience is doubt- 
 ed by none who admit revelation : That there is any state 
 of finite virtue and happiness so secure, as that it is impos- 
 sible to fall from it ; or that created beings can, consist- 
 ently with freedom, be raised to any such state as to defy 
 weakness and error, and to be above all advantage from 
 instruction by precept or example, is By no means to be 
 affirmed. And if there be no reason to doubt, but in all 
 states free agents are fallible (though more and more se- 
 cure of continuing in their obedience, as more perfect) 
 since according to scripture even the angels are chargeable 
 with folly ; it may then be put as a conjecture, whether 
 the scheme of the restoration of mankind may not have 
 immensely extensive and valuable effects upon various or- 
 ders of moral agents throughout the universe for preserv- 
 ing them in their obedience. This effect the considera- 
 tion of it ought to have especially, above all, on us, who 
 are most nearly interested in it ; and we ought not to hope 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 459 
 
 to escape, if we neglect so great salvation ; and ought 
 therefore, if we name the name of Christ, to resolve to de- 
 part from iniquity. It is also to be expected, that the con- 
 sideration of what our everlasting happiness cost, should 
 immensely enhance the value of it to those of our species 
 who shall hereafter be found fit fork; especially with the 
 additional consideration of the hideous ruin we shall have 
 escaped, which is such as to render it necessary for the 
 Son of God to leave for a season his eternal glory, to de- 
 scend to our lower world, and give himself to death, to de- 
 liver as many of us as would from it. That our Saviour 
 died a witness to the truth of his own mission and doctrine, 
 as well as a sacrifice for the sins of mankind, is certain. 
 But it is evident, that his death was very different both in 
 intention and consequences, from those of the martyrs. 
 That his death was also a glorious instance of obedience, 
 and a noble example for our imitation, and that of all ra- 
 tional agents, is also to be taken in, and heightens the 
 grandeur of the scheme. A consequence from the obedi- 
 ence and death of Christ, mentioned in scripture, and hint- 
 ed above, is his being "highly exalted, and receiving a 
 name above every name in heaven and earth, to the glory 
 of God the Father." Of which likewise we can see the 
 propriety and justice. And scripture also countenances 
 the opinion, that the high exaltation of such a number of 
 mankind, as shall be found capable of it, is given him as 
 a reward for his sufferings. 
 
 However, none of these considerations, nor all of them 
 together, come up to the point in question, viz. What 
 connexion in the nature of things there is between the 
 death of Christ and the salvation of mankind. This will 
 probably be a desideratum as long as the present state lasts. 
 
 To expect that we should be informed of the Divine 
 economy with the same distinctness as of our own duty, 
 would be a piece of arrogance above ordinary. It is by 
 experience we are instructed in temporals, as well cs spir- 
 ituals; and we proceed according to it, and are successful 
 in the affairs of life, while we know little or nothing of 
 the means by which the Divine wisdom acts in the natu- 
 ral world, and ought in all reason to expect to know still 
 less of his scheme in a supernatural interposition ; as the 
 plan of our redemption may be called. Did we know, 
 
460 OF RFVEALED RELIGION'. 
 
 which probably if is not proper we should, more of the. 
 foundations and connexions of the various parts of that 
 sublime scheme, we should then know nothing useful to 
 us but our duty. That we know now ; and with such 
 clearness, as will render us wholly inexcusable, if we be 
 not found in the full and faithful performance of it. 
 
 The doctrine of the future resurrection of the body 
 may, as properly as any one, be said to be peculiar to rev- 
 elation. For there is no reason to think, that even the 
 more civilized heathen nations had generally any notion of 
 it. On the contrary we find the enlightened Athenians, 
 in the apostolic times, startled at it, as altogether new to 
 them. But, to use the words of the great apostle of the 
 Gentiles to his hearers, " Why should it be thought a 
 thing incredible that God should raise the dead ?" To 
 give life and being at first to what was once nothing, is 
 certainly at least as difficult as to restore a bodily vehicle 
 from a state of corruption, and to re-unite to it the mind, 
 which had still preserved its existence during the state of 
 separation. And the same Omnipotence, which was equal 
 to the former, may be fairly concluded equal to the latter. 
 The precise modus, in which this re-union of the material 
 and spiritual parts of the human nature at the resurrection 
 will be executed, is to us, as well as innumerable other 
 effects of the divine power, wholly unknown. The fol- 
 lowing hypothesis, or conjectures, (the author of which 
 I cannot recollect) has been thought ingenious. That 
 there may be originally disposed, id the structure of the 
 human frame, a system of stamina, in miniature, of the 
 future ceriel or cetherial resurrection-body, so enveloped 
 or wrapt up, as to continue incorruptible, till the consum- 
 mation of all things ; at which time, by a pre-established 
 law of Nature, it may unfold itself in a manner analogous 
 to conception or vegetation, and the soul being re-united 
 to it, the perfect man may again appear, renewed in his 
 nature and state, and yet in general the same compound 
 being he is at present, consisting of soul and body, or, 
 perhaps more properly, of body, soul, and spirit. The 
 apostle Paul's comparison of the death and burial of the 
 body to the sowing of a grain of wheat; and the resur- 
 rection of the future bod} to the springing up of the stalk, 
 which we know to be nothing else than the unfolding of 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 4G1 
 
 the minute stamina originally disposed in the grain sown, 
 eives countenance to this conjecture, and probably fur- 
 nished the first hint of it. It is not my purpose to estab- 
 lish anv one hypothesis whatever. The only end answered 
 bv mentioning a conjecture for solving this difficulty, if 
 it be a difficulty, is to show the doctrine of a future res- 
 urrection to be' conceivable, without any absurdity. It 
 must even be owned, that the scheme of a restoration, or 
 renovation, of the whole human nature is incomparably 
 more beautiful and regular, and consequently more likely 
 to be the true one, than that received by the heathen 
 world, which supposed the total loss or destruction of one 
 essential part of ihe nature, I mean the body, and made 
 the future man a quite different being, an unbodied spirit, 
 instead of an embodied one. Whereas the Christian scheme 
 represents the dissolution and separation of the body for 
 a time as the effect and punishment of vice, and rs resto- 
 ration as the effect of the kind interposition of our glori- 
 ous Deliverer ; bv which means the whole existence of 
 the human species (I mean, that part of them which shall 
 be found fit for life and immortalin ) appears uniform, and 
 of a piece ; and after the conclusion of the separate state, 
 o-oes on as before, only with the advantage of being incom- 
 parably more perfect," though still the same in kind. 
 
 The views held forth in Scripture of the future restor- 
 ation, glorv, and happiness of the peculiar people of God \ 
 of the "universal establishment of the most pure and per- 
 fect of religions; of the millemum, or paradise restored, 
 with the general prevalency of virtue and goodness; by 
 which means a very great "proportion of those, who shall 
 live in that period, will come to happiness ; all these views 
 are sublime, worthy of the Divine revelation which exhib- 
 its them, and suitable to the greatness of the moral econ- 
 omy. But as the future parts of prophecy are, and ought 
 to be, difficult to understand in all their minute particulars, 
 as is 'evident from the diversity of opinions given by the 
 commentators on those parts of holy writ ; while they gen- 
 erally agree, that the above-mentioned particulars are in 
 scripture held forth as to be hereafter accomplished ; as 
 as this, i say, is the case, it may not be necessary that I 
 attempt to fix any one particular scheme of the comple- 
 tion of those parts of prophecy. 
 
462 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 The doctrine of a future general judgment of the whole 
 human race by the same Divine Person, who, by the 
 power of the Father, made the world, and who redeemed 
 it, is held forth in scripture in a manner suitable to the pomp 
 with which so awful a scene may be expected to be trans- 
 acted. That the whole Divine economy, with respect to 
 this, world, should conclude with a general inquiry into, 
 and public declaration of, the character, and so much of 
 the past conduct, as may be necessary, of every individ- 
 ual of the species ; and that, in consequence of the dif- 
 ferent behaviour of each, during the state of discipline 
 and probation, their future existence should be happy or 
 miserable ; that every individual should be disposed of 
 according to what he has made himself fit for; all this the 
 perfect rectitude of the Divine nature indispensably re- 
 quires. And without this conclusion of the whole econ- 
 omy, the moral government of the world must be imper- 
 fect ; or rather, without it, the very idea of moral gov- 
 ernment is absurd. That the decision of the future state 
 of men will turn chiefly upon their general prevailing cha- 
 racters ; the habits they have acquired ; the dispositions 
 they have cultivated ; their attachment to virtue and obe- 
 dience, or to irregularity and vice, seems probable both 
 from Scripture and reason. So that, as on one hand a few 
 errors, if not persisted in, but repented of and reformed, 
 being consistent with a prevailing good character, may be 
 overlooked ; so, on the oiher, a thousand acts of charity 
 or virtue of any kind, if done from indirect views, or by 
 persons of hypocritical or. bad hearts, will gain no favour 
 from the eenerai Judge. Of what consequence is it then 
 that we be sure of our own integrity ! And how dreadful 
 ma) the effects prove of going out of the present state of 
 discipline, with one vicious habit uncorrected, or with a 
 temper of mind defective in respect of one virtue ! 
 
 Whether all the more secret errors of persons of good 
 characters, of which they have sincerely repented, which 
 they have for years lamented with floods of undissembled 
 tears, and which they have thoroughly reformed, will be 
 displayed to the full view of men and angds, seems a 
 questionable, point : For it does not to reason appear ab- 
 solutely necessary : It being easily enough conceivable, 
 that the character of a person mav be determinable by 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 463 
 
 Divine Wisdom, and capable of being set forth to the 
 general view in a manner sufficiently satisfactory, without 
 so minute an examination. x\nd if so it may be conclu- 
 ded, that the sincere penitent will be put to no needless 
 pain. And if there is a pain more cruel than another, it 
 is for a generous mind to be exposed to public shame. 
 Besides what reason may suggest on this head, the numer- 
 ous' expressions of Scripture, of " blotting out the sins 
 of penitents from the books of remembrance; of hiding, 
 covering, and forgetting them," and the like, seem to 
 favour the opinion, that the character and conduct of pen- 
 itents will be only so far displayed, as to show them to be 
 fit objects of the Divine mercy. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 Considerations on the Credibility of Scripture. 
 
 IT is not only to the studious and learned, that the 
 proofs of Revelation lie level. All men, who will apply 
 their faculties with the same diligence and attention which 
 they every day bestow upon the common affairs and even 
 the amusements of life, may be rationally convinced, that 
 they are under Divine Government, and must feel, that 
 they are accountable creatures ; upon which fundamental 
 principlesthe whole scheme of Revelation being construct- 
 ed, they may easily bring themselves to see the force of 
 the evidence arising from miracles and the completion of 
 prophecy, particularly those relating to the Jewish people ; 
 which, in conjunction with the character of Moses and the 
 Prophets of Christ and his Apostles ; a due attention to 
 the nature and tendency of the doctrines and precepts con- 
 tained in scripture ; and the consideration of the establish- 
 ment of Christianity, so wholly unaccountable upon any- 
 other footing, than its being from God ; may give full 
 and well grounded satisfaction to any considerate person, 
 that all the objections of the opposers of Revealed Reli- 
 gion can never amount to such a degree of weight in the 
 whole, as to over- balance the positive proof for it, or 
 yield a sufficient proof that the whole is a forgery. 
 
 At the same time it must be observed, that to be quali- 
 fied for examining in a proper manner all the various ar- 
 
464 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 gumcnts in favour of Revelation, requires a very extensive 
 knowledge in various ways, as in philological and critieal 
 learning, history, and philosophy, natural and moral. 
 Whieh shows in a very strange light the presumption of 
 many men of supernatural and narrow improvements, who 
 pretend to oppose religion, and rashiy enter into a dispute 
 for whieh they are so ill furnished. 
 
 For it is die unfair and fallacious proceeding of many 
 disingenuous opposers of revealed religion, to detach some 
 single branch of proof, or some doubtful argument, and 
 by caviiing at that, endeavour to overturn the whole evi- 
 dence for revelation. But whoever will consider the sub- 
 ject with candour, will see, that it is of such an extensive 
 nature, comprehends so many different views, and is estab- 
 lished upon such a variety of arguments, drawn from dif- 
 ferent parts of knowledge, that the true state, and full re- 
 sult, of the evidence, upon the whole, cannot, by the nature 
 of the thing, be reduced to one point ; and consequently 
 that taking any one narrow view of it, and judging from 
 that, is the way to deceive ourselves and others. It is in- 
 deed as if a man were rashly to pronounce that the earth is 
 of no regular figure whatever, merely from observing the 
 irregularity of the Alps, and other ranges of mountains, 
 which fill the eye ol the traveller, while the whole globe is 
 too large, and too near, for the human sight to compre- 
 hend its general figure. Yet the very first principles of 
 geography show, that the protuberance of the highest moun- 
 tain of the world, being but three miles perpendicular,, is 
 no greater irregularity upon a globe, eight thousand miles 
 in diameter, than the little roughnesses upon an orange arc 
 derogations from the general roundness of its figure ; as 
 a mite, or other very small insect, might be supposed to 
 imagine them. 
 
 To consider any complex subject in a partial manner, 
 exclusive of any material part, and without taking in the 
 whole cf it, is not considering it as it is ; and subjects will 
 not be understood otherwise than as they are. Men of 
 narrow minds may run themselves, and designing men 
 others, into endless labyrinths, and inextricable errors : but 
 Truth stands upon its own eternal and immoveable basis : 
 and Wisdom will in the end be justified of her children. 
 
 The whole evidence of Revelation is not prophecy alone, 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 453 
 
 nor miracles alone, nor the sublimity of its doctrines alone, 
 nor the purity of its precepts alone, nor the character of Mo- 
 set and the Prophetic Christ, and his Apostles alone, nor 
 the internal character of simplicity in the writings of scrip- 
 ture alone; nor any one of the other branches of proof alone; 
 but the joint coincidence and accumulated effect of them 
 all concentred. Now, he who can bring himself to believe 
 seriously, that such a number of amazing coincidences, 
 such a variety of evidence, presumptive and positive, cir- 
 cumstantial and essential, collateral and direct, internal and 
 external, should by the Divine Providence be suffered to 
 concur, to the effectual and remediless deception of the 
 most inquisitive, judicious, and ingenuous part of man- 
 kind, must have strange notions of the Divine economy in 
 the moral world. And he, who, in spite of the super-abun- 
 dant and accumulated evidence for the truth of Revelation, 
 will suffer himself to be misled into opposition against it, 
 mereh on the account of some single circumstantial dif- 
 ficulty, must have no head for judging complicated evi- 
 dence; which yet every man has occasion to weigh, and to 
 act upon almost every day of his life. And he, who, from in- 
 direct views of any kind, labours to mislead mankind into 
 opposition against what would be infinitely to their advantage 
 to receive, is the common enemy of truth, and of mankind. 
 
 If the sacred history of scripture has not the internal 
 marks of truth, there is no reason to give credit to any his- 
 tory in the world. And to question the veracity of ancient 
 history in the gross, would be (to mention no other absurd 
 consequences) doubt'ng whether there were any men of 
 integrity in the world, till these four or five centuries last 
 past. The remarkable coincidence betwixt sacred and 
 profane history shows the genuineness of the former; and 
 its delivering grave and credible accounts of things, while 
 many of the ancient writers amuse us with fables evidently- 
 drawn from imperfect accounts of the sacred story, plainly 
 discover scripture to have been the original from which 
 the other is an imperfect copy. Of the foundation and 
 measure of certainty attainable by testimony, I have treated 
 elsewhere.* 
 
 The fragments of ancient Phoenecian historians pre- 
 served by Ensebius ; with what we have of Zeno, the 
 
 • Sec pag;e 226. 
 3 N 
 
1 
 
 466 OF REVEALED RELTGION. 
 
 Egyptian writers, whose opinions and accounts of things 
 are preserved by Diogenes, Laertius, Diodorus Siculus, 
 and others; the fragments we have ascribed to Linus, 
 Orpheas, Epicharmus ; the remains of Sanchoniathon, 
 Berosus, Menetho, Philo Bybilus, Eurysus the Pytha- 
 gorean, Hipparchus, Amelias the Platonist, Hitrclitus, 
 Timceus, Chalsidicus, (who writes of Moses J Homer, 
 Hesiod, Callimachus, Aristohanes, Plato, Cicero, Ovid, 
 all these in what they say of the creation, agree in the 
 main with Moses'' account of it. Homer, Hesiod, Calli- 
 machus, Aristobulus, Thcophilus of ' Antioch, Encian, Dion 
 Casmts x Suetonius, Josephus, Philo, Tibullus, mention, 
 or allude to, the universal custom of resting every seventh 
 day. The Egyptian writers, Plato, Strabo, Ovid, Virgil, 
 and others, mention the state of innocence, and the Fall. 
 Philo Byblius, from Sanchoniathon and Plutarch, show, 
 that several particulars of that Fall were received by the 
 most ancient heathens. Ferdinand Mendesius testifies, 
 that many particulars relating to Adam, Eve, the forbid- 
 den tree, and the serpent, are to be found among the natives 
 of Peru, and the Philippine islands. And the name of 
 Adam is known among the Indian Brachmans, which word 
 has been by some thought to have been a corruption oiAbra- 
 hamans ; and it has been thought probable that the religion 
 of Zoroastres and the Magi is derived from that patriarch. 
 The trurh of Moses'' account of the flood is attested by 
 Berosus, Diodorus, Varro, Pliny, Plutarch, Lucian, Molo y 
 Nicoliius, Damascenes, and others ; some of whom men- 
 tion the name of Noah, the ark, and the dove. Josephus 
 Acosta, and Antonio Herrera affirm, that at Cuba, Mecho- 
 ana, Nicaragua, mid other parts of America, the memory 
 of the flood, and the ark, are preserved, and were found, 
 with several other doctrines, of mere revelation, upon the 
 first discoveries of those places bv the Europeans. But 
 to proceed, Berosus Manetho, Hesiod, Nicolaus, Damas- 
 cenus, and others, mention the age of the first men to have 
 been almost a thousand years. Plutarch Maximus, I'yrius, 
 Catullus, and others, speak of an intercourse between God 
 and men in ancient times. — Porphyry, Jambliciis, and 
 others, speak of angels. The history of the tower of Babel, 
 under the poetical disguise of the giants to. scale heaven, 
 is found in Homer, Virgil, Horace, Ovid t Lucan, and the 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 46T 
 
 Sybilline Oracle quoted by Josephus . Diodorus Siculus, 
 Strabo, Tacitus, Pliny, and Solinus, mention the des> ruc- 
 tion of Sodom and Gomorrah. The history of Abraham 
 and other patriarchs, agreeable to the writings of Moses, 
 is found in Philo Bi/hlius, from Sanchoniathon, and in 
 Berosus, Hecataus, Damoccnus, Artapanus, Eupolemus, 
 Demetrius, and Justin from Trogus Pompeius, who also 
 gives Joseph's history agreeable to scripture. By several 
 of these the principal acts of Moses are related. Of whom 
 mention is also made bv Manetho, Lysimachus Chtfremon, 
 Diodorus Siculus, Longmus, Strabo, Pliny, and Tacitus. 
 Diodorus speaks of the drying up of the Red Sea. Herodo- 
 tus, Diodorus, Strabo, Philo Byblius, Aristophanes, Tacitus, 
 Horace, and Juvenal, mention the ceremony of circumcis- 
 ion. Eusebius tells us, that a book was written by Eupo- 
 lemus on Elijah's Miracles. The History of Jonah is in 
 Lycophron and JEneas Gazmis. Julian the Apostate owns 
 that there were inspired men among the Jews. Menander 
 mentions the great drought in the time of Elijah. The 
 histories of David and Solomon are given in a pretty full 
 manner in the remains of the Phoenician x\nnals, and Da- 
 mascene' History, in Eupolemus, and Dins' Phoenician 
 History, who speaks of riddles, or hard questions, sent 
 betwixt Solomon and Hiram ; of which also Menander the 
 Ephesian Historian, Alexander, Polyhistor, and others, 
 give an account. Hazael, king of Syria, is mentioned by 
 Justin. Menander the Historian mentions Salmanasor, 
 who carried the Israelites, or ten tribes, into that captivity, 
 from which thev are not yet returned. The name and 
 expeditions of Sennacherib, king of Assyria, are found in 
 Berosus' Cha.ldaic's and Herodotus' History, which last 
 relates the destruction of his vast army (2 Kings XVII) 
 with a mixture of fable. Suetonius, Tacitus, Pliny the 
 younger, and Numenius testify, that there was such a per- 
 son as Jesus Christ. His miracles are owned by Celsus, 
 Julian the Apostate, and the Jewish writers, who oppose 
 Christianity. Porphyry, though an enemy to the Chris- 
 tian Religion, says, " after Christ was worshipped, no one 
 received any benefit from the gods." Suetonius, Tacitus, 
 Pliny, Julian the Apostate, and the Jewish writers men- 
 tion his being put to death. And Tacitus affirms, that 
 many were put to de'ath for their adherence to his religion, 
 
4,68 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 A very particular and favourable account of the character 
 and behaviour oi the first Christians is given b\ Pliny, in 
 a tetter to the Emperor Trajan, still extant. Phlegon, in 
 his Annals, mentions the miracles of St. Peter. And 
 Si. Paul is celebrated in a fragment of Long in us among 
 eminent orators. The History of our Saviour's life, death, 
 resurrection, and ascension, was declared by the Apostles 
 in the lace of his enemies, and in the very country, where 
 he lived, died and rose again. — They wrote their accounts 
 in Greek, which was universally understood, and related 
 the things, as they passed a very few years before, and 
 which must have been fresh in every body's memory. 
 The name of Jesus, must have been entered into the pub- 
 lic tables, or registers, at his birth. To which accordingly 
 Justin Martyr and Tertullian appeal. And the account 
 ol his death and resurrection must, according to the cus- 
 tom, when any thing remarkable happened in any of the 
 provinces of the empire, have bten sent to the court of 
 Rome. The memory of the slaughter of the innocents is 
 preserved by Augustus' remark on Herod's cruelty. The 
 miraculous darkness at our Saviour's crucifixion (which 
 was undoubtedly supernatural ; it being impossible that 
 the sun should be eclipsed by the moon, which was then in 
 opposition) is affirmed by Tertullian to have been upon re- 
 cord in his time in the public registers. Our Saviour is 
 Several times mentioned by Josephus ; though not in such a 
 manner as so extraordinary a character deserved. But 
 nothing is more common than such expected neglects 
 in historians. Besides, it is probable that Josephus might 
 be under some constraint in touching upon the subject of 
 Christ and his R< ligion ; as he makes honourable mention 
 of John Baptist, and of James the brother of Jesus \ to 
 whose murder he ascribes the destruction of Jerusalem. 
 Such public passages as the dumbness inflicted on Zach- 
 arius, while the people were waiting without the temple ; 
 of the wise men from the east ; of the murder of the inno- 
 cents ; of our Saviour's driving some hundreds, probably, 
 of people out the outer court of the temple, immediately 
 after his triumph, which must have alarmed the whole 
 city ;. ihe prodigies at his death ; the dreadful end of Judas 
 Iscariot ; the names of the Roman Emperor, and Gover- 
 nor, oi Herod, of the High Priest, of JVicodemus, of Joseph 
 
OF REVEALED RFLTGION. 4(59 
 
 of ' Arimathaa, of Gamaliel, Dionysius the Areopagite, Ser- 
 gius Paulus, Simon Magus. Felix, king- Agrippa, Ter- 
 tullus, Gallio, and many other persons of the highest rank 
 mentioned with great freedom, shows, that the historians 
 were under no apprehension of being detecieci ; and, at the 
 same time, establish the genuineness of the New Testa- 
 ment History by chronological and geographical evidences. 
 Nor would any set of impost ers have overloaded their 
 scheme with such a number of circumstances no way- 
 necessary to it, for fear of committing some blunder, which 
 might have detected them. The miraculous power of in- 
 flicting death upon offenders, as in the case cf Ananias and 
 Sapphira, and blindness in that of Elymas, was not a thing 
 to be boasted of, if it had not been trtlt ; because of the 
 danger of being called to account by the civil magistrate. 
 And that the New Testament History is not a forgery oi lat- 
 ter times, is much better established, than that the iEneid, 
 the Metamorphosis, and Horace's, works, were writ in the 
 Augustan age. For none of them was authenticated by 
 whole churches, nor are they cited by multitudes of authors 
 cotemporary wiih them, as the apostolical writings are by 
 Barnabas, Clemens, Romanus, Ignatius, Polycarp, and 
 the rest, and acknowledged to be the genuine works of the 
 authors, whose names they bear, by enemies, as Tripo, 
 Julian the Apostate, and others of the earliest ages, and 
 authenticated by succeeding writers through every follow- 
 ing period. The numerous ancient apologists for Christi- 
 anity, in their addresses to the Emperors, confirm the par- 
 ticulars of the New Testament History by their appeals to 
 records then extant, and persons then living. And his- 
 tory shows, that those appeals were so convincing as to 
 gain the Christians, from time to time, favour and mercy 
 from the Emperors. 
 
 That the Mosaic history of the Patriarchs, and their 
 posterity the Jews and Israelites, is genuine, is in a man- 
 ner visible at this day from the present circumstances of 
 that part of them, who are distinguished from all other 
 people, I mean the Jews, or the posterity of the two tribes ; 
 for those of the ten are, according to the predictions of 
 prophecy, at present undistinguished, though hereafter 
 to be restored with their brethren the Jews to their own 
 land. There is no such minute and circumstantial proof, 
 
470 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 that the Italians arc the descendants of the ancient Romans, 
 or :hc French of the Gauls. 
 
 Jt is to be observed, that the miraculous and super- 
 natural parts of the sacred story depend on the verv same 
 authority as the common, and accordingly related in the 
 same manner; and me whole hangs so together, and rests 
 on the same foundation, that they must either be both 
 true, or both False. But no one ever imagined the latter 
 to be the c. - 
 
 The simplicity of the Scripture accounts of the most 
 striking and amazing events any where related, their being 
 described in the same artless and unaffected manner as 
 the common occurrences of history, is at least a very 
 strong presumption, that the relators had no design of any 
 kind, but to give a true representation of facts. Had Mo- 
 ses, the most ancient of historians, had any design to im- 
 pose upon mankind ; could he, in his account of the cre- 
 ation, the flood, the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah 
 by lire, from heaven, of the escape of the Israelitish peo- 
 ple from Egyptian tyranny, and their passage through 
 the wilderness under his own conduct (a retreat more 
 remarkable than that of the ten thousand under Xenophon, 
 which makes such a figure in history, could the relator 
 of these amazing events have avoided expatiating and flour- 
 ishing upon such astonishing scenes, had they been mere 
 invention f Would the fabulous writer of a set of adven- 
 tures, of which himself was the fictitious hero, have spoke 
 of himself with the mock sty which appears in the Mosaic 
 history ? Would he have represented himself as capable 
 of timidity, diffidence, or passion ? Would he have im- 
 mortalized his own weaknesses ? Had the inventor of the 
 scripture account of Abraham, and his posterity, intended 
 his fictitious history as an encomium upon that people, 
 as Virgil did his A\ncid on his countrymen, would he 
 have iv presented thtm as perverse, disobedient people, so 
 often under the displeasure of their God ; condemned to 
 wander forty years, and perish at last to the number of 
 many thousands, in the wilderness, to the seeming dispar- 
 agement of the wisdom of their leader ; ever deviating into 
 the worship of idols, contrary to what might have been 
 expected from the numerous miracles wrought in their 
 favour by the true God, a circumstance very improper 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 471 
 
 to be dwelt on, as being likely to bring the truth of those 
 miracles into question with superficial readers ? 
 
 Would the inventors of the New Testament History, 
 supposing it a fiction, have given an account of such a 
 scries of miracles in the cool and unaffected manner they 
 do, had they not been genuine ? Could they have avoid- 
 ed some flights of fancy in describing such wonders, as 
 the feeding of thousands with almost nothing ; the curing 
 of diseases, calming of tempests, driving evil spirits irom 
 their holds and calling the dead out of their graves, with 
 a word? Could they have given an account of the bar- 
 barities inflicted on the most innocent and amiable of all 
 characters, without working up their narration to the pitch 
 of a tragedy ? 
 
 Must not a man be out of his wits before he could think 
 of writing a set of grave directions about the conduct of 
 miraculous and super-natural gifts, as of speaking foreign 
 languages which the speakers had never learned ; for tell- 
 ing future events, and the like ; must not a man be dis- 
 tracted, who in our times, when no such miraculous gifts 
 subsist, should write of them as common and unques- 
 tionable ? This the Apostle Paul, one of the most judi- 
 cious writers of antiquity, sacred or profane, does in si 
 variety of places ; mentioning them incidentally and with- 
 out going out of his way to prove the existence of them, 
 and even depreciating them in comparison with moral 
 virtues. What is to be concluded from hence, but that 
 those miraculous gifts were at that time as notorious, and 
 common, as perhaps the knowledge of mathematics, or 
 any other science, is now among us ? 
 
 Miracles being a very important part of the evidence 
 for Revelation, it is proper to consider a little that subject. 
 And first, one would wonder, that ever it should have oc- 
 curred to any person, that the proof from miracles is a 
 weak or suspicious one, supposing the miracles to be really 
 such, and nothing inconsistent in the doctrine they are 
 brought in proof of. For nothing seems more reasonable 
 to expect, than that, if the Author of Nature should 
 choose to be likewise Author of Revelation, he should 
 show his concern in the establishment or promulgation of 
 such Revelation, by exering that power over nature, 
 which we know he is possessed of, and for which we be- 
 
472 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 licvc and adore him, as the Author of Nature. Can any 
 thing be more reasonable to expect than that He, who first 
 breathed into man the breath of life, should, in order to 
 assure mankind, that a particular message comes from 
 Him, give power to those he employs in carrying such 
 message, to restore life to the dead; or than that He, who 
 made the elements of the natural world, should authenti- 
 cate bis revealed laws by giving to those, whom he em- 
 ploys in promulgating them, a power over nature, a com- 
 maud of the elements of air and water; so that winds may 
 cease to rage, and waves to roll at their word ? There is 
 indeed all the reason in the world to believe, that those 
 very objectors against the propriety of miracles, as a proof 
 of a Revelation coming from God, would have found fault 
 with Christianity, had there been no account of miracles 
 in scripture, as deficient in one very strong and convinc- 
 ing evidence of a Divine original. 
 
 The proper definition of such a miracle as may be 
 supposed to be worked by Divine Authority for proof 
 of a Revelation from God, is, An immediate and ex- 
 traordinary effect of power supeiior to all human; ex- 
 hibited in presence of a competent number of credible 
 witnesses, in such a manner as to be subject to their 
 deliberate examination expressly declared to be intend- 
 ed for establishing a doctrine in itself reasonable, and 
 useful for the improvement of mankind in virtue. 
 
 First, a proper miracle, in the theological sense, must 
 be an immediate and extraordinary effect of power, exhi- 
 bited expressly for the purpose. For the application of 
 any of the constant and regular powers or properties of 
 natural bodies, in however artful, or to common people 
 inconceivable, a manner, is no miracle; else all the arts, 
 especially chemistry, might be said to be systems of mir- 
 acles. The pretended miracle of the liquefaction of the 
 blood of Saint Januctrius, with which the priests in Popish 
 countries yearly delude the ignorant people, is no more 
 than the natural effect of a certain liquor dropped upon a 
 mass of a particular gummy, or resinous substance, 
 which dissolves in a manner as little miraculous, as that of 
 a lump of sugar, upon which water is dropped. But to 
 proceed. The miraculous work performed must be the 
 effect of a power superior to all human. It is not neces- 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 473 
 
 sary that it be superior to angelic power. Because our 
 best notions of the Divine economy lend us to believe that 
 spirituai beings are the instruments of God for the advan- 
 tage of mankind. So that while we believe this, to ques- 
 tion a miracle performed by a good angel, would be insult- 
 ing Heaven itself. And we may reasonably conclude 
 from the tendency of the doctrin- or laws to be establish- 
 ed, whether the miracle is wrought by a good or evil being, 
 according to our Saviour's reasoning, Matth. xii. 25* 
 A miracle performed in confirmation of a doctrine tending 
 to promote and establish virtue in the world, and to defeat 
 the designs which evil beings may have against mankind, 
 may reasonably be concluded to be wrought by the power, 
 not of a fiend, but a good spirit, and contrariwise. For 
 it is reasonable to expect a being to exert his power for 
 the advancement of what is agreeable to his own character, 
 and not for the contrary purpose. 
 
 Some miracles may be conceived not to be clearly, and 
 indiiputably, above all human power ; and yet to be gen- 
 tame mincles. • Some of the works of Moses were such, 
 that the Egyptian artists could imitate them in some man- 
 ner, delusive indeed, and defective; but which rendered 
 it at least disputable whe her they were wholly above human 
 pover, or not. Nor is it necessary, that every Divine 
 mission be so authenticated as to put its genuineness be- 
 yond all possible question. It is enough, if, upon the 
 whole, there be a considerable overbalance of credibility. 
 For, after all, direct Revelations of all kinds, are ever to 
 be considered as exuberances of Divine Goodness; as 
 advantages beyond what rational agents, in most cases, have 
 any ground to expect : and are therefore by no means to 
 be thought deficient, if they want this or that evidence, and 
 be not attended with all the circumstances of conviction 
 which our fantastical imaginations could invent. The least 
 and lowest degree of supernatural assistance is more than 
 we had any reason to expect^ or pretence to demand. 
 And had we never been blest with any clear and exten- 
 sive Revelation, we should have been altogether without 
 excuse in acting a wicked part, and stifling the light of 
 natural conscience. 
 
 Others of the scripture miracles, and those by far the 
 most considerable part, are such as to be clearly and un- 
 
 3 O 
 
-A74 OF RFVEALHD RELIGION'. 
 
 questionably above all human power. Of this sort arc the 
 dividing of the Red Sea, the curinginveterate diseases with 
 a word, and raising the dead. 
 
 A miracle ought (in order to its being received by those 
 who were not eye-witnesses) to have been wrought in the 
 presence of such a number of credible witnesses, as to ren- 
 der it unlikely that there should have been any delusion. 
 Though it may be possible, that the senses of one or two 
 persons may be deceived, it is, not to be supposed, that 
 those of any number should. And the greater the num- 
 ber of the witnesses is (supposing them credible) the prob- 
 ability of their being all at the same time under a delusion 
 becomes the less, till it comes to be wholly incredible and 
 inconceivable. And then their testimony becomes un- 
 questionable. This necessary condition effectually ex- 
 cludes such pretended miracles as those of Mahomet's 
 vision, which passed wholly without witness. For our 
 S viour's reasoning is undeniably just; if a man bear 
 record of himself, his record is not true ; that is, the mere 
 assertion of a person, who, for any thing that appears, may 
 be interested to deceive, is not a sufficient ground of cred- 
 it. On this account also that most monstrous insult 
 upon all the senses and faculties of mankind, Transub- 
 stantiation, is effectually cut off from all pretensions to the 
 character of a miracle. For the wafer is so far from having 
 been ever turned into a whole Christ before any credible 
 witness or witnesses, that every person, before whom it has 
 been attempted or pretended to be done, has had, or might 
 have had, the assurances of both sense and understanding, 
 that it remained still as much wafer as ever. 
 
 The witnesses of a ^miracle must be credible. Thev 
 must be under no visible temptation to deceive ; and they 
 must be persons of such understanding as to be equal to 
 the examination of the pretended miracle. The pretended 
 miracles of the Papists may on ven just grounds be sus- 
 pected ; as we know w hat immense profits that worldly 
 church gets by deluding the people. The workers of the 
 scripture-miracles were under no temptation to bribe wit- 
 nesses, but quite to the contrary. For they all lost, and 
 none of them gained any thing secular by their works. 
 Moses forsook the court of Pharaoh, to wander mam- years 
 in the wilderness and die there. The prophets suffered 
 
OF REVEALED UELICxION. 475 
 
 persecution and death for their plainness in reproving the 
 fashionable vices of their times. The blessed Saviour of 
 the world, and his apostles, and the first proselytes to chris- 
 tianitv, exposed themselves to every kind of affliction and 
 distress, and to violent and infamous deaths. So that they 
 cannot, with any shadow of reason, be suspected of having 
 bribed witnesses to testify to their miracles ; nor indeed 
 had they any secular advantage to offer in order to gain 
 proselytes. 
 
 The witnesses of a supposed miracle must, in order to 
 its credibility, be supposed persons of such understanding, 
 as to be equal to the examination of the fact. Now the 
 scripture miracles were performed before such numbers, 
 that, according to the common course of human capacities, 
 they must have been seen and examined by many persons, 
 not only of sufficient understanding for inquiring into a 
 simple fact, but of more shrewdness and sagacity than or- 
 dinary. Nor was there any superior capacity necessary to 
 determine whether the Red Sea was really miraculously 
 divided, when the thousands of Israel passed through it 
 in full march, and saw the waters as a wall on their right 
 hand, and on their left. Nor was there any occasion for 
 great sagacity to convince those who saw some hundreds 
 of diseased people healed with a word, that real miracles 
 were wrought. Nor was there any subtlety of discern- 
 ment necessary to convince the disciples of Christ, v ho 
 had conversed with him for several years, who heard him 
 speak as never man spoke, that he who after his death ap- 
 peared to several hundreds together, and often conversed 
 intimately with the eleven, for six weeks, was the same 
 person, their well known Lord and Master, whom they 
 saw crucified on mount Calvarij. 
 
 It is said in the above definition of a proper miracle, 
 that, in order to credibility, it is necessary, that the effect 
 be such as to be subject to the full examination of the 
 spectators. There are very few of the scripture-miracles 
 that were not of too substantial and permanent a nature, to 
 be in any manner imitated by the prcestigitf, or tricks of 
 impostors. A sudden appearance, for a short time, of 
 any strange and unaccountable kind, might be questioned. 
 But a body diseased for many years, cured with a word, a 
 withered limb restored in a moment, a distracted brain 
 
476 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 instantly redressed, a daemon authoritatively dispossessed, a 
 man four days buried, recalled to life ; these are i fleets of 
 power too substantial to be mistaken ; and too lasting to 
 be suspected of having passed through a superficial exam- 
 ination. 
 
 Lastly, it is said in the above definition of a proper and 
 credible miracle, that it must be declared by the worker 
 of it to be wrought expressly in confirmation of some 
 particular doctrine, which doctrine must be such as to 
 commend itself to the unprejudiced reason of mankind, 
 and to bear the marks of a revelation worthy of God, and 
 useful for men. A miracle, or wonderful effect, connect- 
 ed with no particular doctrine, is tO be called a natural 
 or artificial phenomenon, or a prodigy ; not a miracle in a 
 theoligicaJ sense, which last alone is what we are at pres- 
 ent concerned with. 
 
 No miracle whatever, nor any number of miracles, 
 would be sufficient to prove t\\ ice two to be five. Because 
 we are more clearly and undoubtedly certain of the pro- 
 portions of numbers, than of any thing supernatural. And 
 all miracles are supernatural. Ai el it would be absurd to 
 imagine that the infinitely wise Author of reason should 
 expect us to question the certain information of our rea- 
 son upon evidence less certain. 
 
 Again, if miracles are pretended to be wrought in 
 prool of a doctrine which leads to any vicious or impious 
 practice, as we may, by a proper examination, and due 
 use of our faculties be more certain, that such a doctrine 
 cannot be from God, than we can be, that a pretended 
 miracle, in support of it, is from him; it is plain we arc 
 to reject both the doctrine and pretended miracle, as in- 
 sufficient against the clear and unquestionable dictates 
 of reason. But if mir. cles, answering in every part the 
 above definition, are wrought before credible witnesses, 
 in t xpress attestation of a doctrine, though not discover- 
 able by reason, yet not contradictory to it, and tending to 
 the advancement of virtue and happiness, we ought in 
 any reason to conclude such miracles, when properly at- 
 tested, to have been performed by the power of God, or 
 of some being authorised by him ; and may judge our- 
 selves safe in receiving them as such ; because we cannot 
 suppose that God would leave his creatures in a state ob- 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 477 
 
 noxious to remediless delusion ; nay, we cannot but thi ;k 
 it criminal to neglect, or oppose, miracles in such a 
 manner attested, or the doctrine intended 10 be established 
 b) them. 
 
 It has been objected apaiist the account, we have in 
 scripture, of innumerable 'miracles performed b) Moses, 
 and the prophets, Christy and his apostles ; that it is not 
 likelv, they should be true, because we have none such 
 in our times. That, as we have no experience of miracles, 
 we have no reason to believe that ever there were any 
 performed. 
 
 Supposing it were strictly true, that we have no experi- 
 ence, or ocular conviction, of the possibility of miracles, 
 which is by no means to be taken for granted ; those who 
 urge this objection, would do well to consider, before they 
 embark their unbelief upon it, how far it will earn them, 
 If, because we see no miracles now, we may salely argue 
 that there never were any, it will be as good sense to say, 
 because we now see an earth, a sun, moon, and stars ; 
 there never was a time, when they were not ; there never 
 was a time when the Divine wisdom governed his natural, 
 or moral system otherwise than he does nOvy ; there are no 
 different states of things, nor any different exigencies in 
 consequence of those differences ; it is absurd to conceive 
 of any change in any one particular, or in the general (Econ- 
 omy of the universe. 
 
 The account we have in the New Testament, of the 
 darnoniacs miraculously cured by our Saviour, has, par- 
 ticularly, been thought to pinch so hard, that some have, 
 in order to get rid of the difficulty, attempted, (in mv hum- 
 ble opinion, altogether unwarrantably) to explain away the 
 whole doctrine of possession by spirits. How comes it, 
 say the objectors, that we read of such numbers ofpersons 
 in Christ's thne possessed with daemons; while we have 
 no instances of any such in our days ? To this, some gen- 
 tlemen, whose abilities I should be proud to equal, and of 
 whose sincere belief of Christianity I have no more doubt 
 than of my own, have given an answer, which I cannot 
 help thinking extremely hurtful to the cause. " The Doe- 
 moniacs," say those gentlemen, " were no more than mad 
 people, who were not then, nor are now, possessed with 
 spirits, any more than other diseased persons. Their being 
 
ITS OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 spoken of as possessed, was no other than a common way 
 of ex pressing their disease or distress ; and the dispossess- 
 ing m, was only the cure ; which was still miraculous 1 ' 
 But, if any man can reconcile this notion with the accounts 
 we have from the Evangelists, lie must have a key, which, 
 I own, I am not master of. That a set of grave historians, 
 sacred historians, should fill up their narration with ac- 
 counts of what was said by such a number of madmen ; 
 that those madmen should universally speak to better pur- 
 pose, than the bulk of those who were in their senses ; that 
 they should at once, the first moment they cast their eS es 
 on our Saviour, know him to be the Christ, while some 
 even of his own disciples hardly knew what to think of him ; 
 that our Saviour himself should enumerate his casting out 
 evil spirits, besides curing diseases, as a miracle erifirteTy 
 separate, and of its own kind, and mention his conquest 
 over Satan and his wicked spirits, as a mark of his being 
 the true Messiah ; that he should allow his disciples to 
 continue in a mistake with respect to a point of such con- 
 sequence ; that lie should advise them to rejoice more in 
 the thought of their names being written in heaven, than 
 in their having received power over spirits, without telling 
 them at the same time, that they were altogether in a mis- 
 take about their having received any such power ; that 
 we should be grave!} told that the madness (not the spirits) 
 which uossessed the men in tombs, intrcated our Saviour 
 to senel it into the herd of swine ; that the madness (not 
 the spirit) should so often intreat and adjure him not to 
 send it to the place of torment before the time, that is, 
 probably, before the last judgment, or perhaps an earlier 
 period spoken of in the Apocalypse, that all these solemn 
 accounts should be given in such a history, and nothing to 
 show them to be figurative, nor, as far as I can see, any 
 possibility of understanding them otherwise than literally ; 
 seems wholly unaccountable. Nor can I help thinking 
 that the solution is incomparably harder to grapple with 
 than the difficulty. I deny not, that there are passages in 
 the gospels, where a disease is in one place spoken of as 
 an infliction of an evil spirit, and in another as a mere dis- 
 ease. But this dots not at all affect the point in dispute ; 
 because the question is not, whether the f'cemoniacs spoken 
 of in the gospels were not persons labouring under a bod- 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 479 
 
 ily complaint besides the possession by evil spirits; but, 
 whether the people said to be possessed, were at all pos- 
 sessed, or not. If a person, whose brain was distempered, 
 was likewise possessed with an evil spirit, he might with 
 sufficient propriety be spoke of in one place as a lunatic, 
 and in another as a dasmoninc. 
 
 I should humbly judge it a much more easy and natural 
 way of getting over this difficulty, to proceed upon our 
 Saviour's answer to his disciples concerning the man born 
 blind. " Neither did this man sin," says he, (in any ex- 
 traordinary manner) nor his parents ; but that the works 
 of God might be made manifest in him." If the whole 
 human species are offenders, and at all times deserving of 
 punishment, where is the difficulty of conceiving, that it 
 might be suitable to the Divine scheme of government, 
 that at the time of our Saviour's appearance, or any other 
 period, a greater variety of punishments might be suffered 
 to fail upon a guilty race of beings, and afterwards, through 
 the Divine mercy, their sufferings might be abated. Par- 
 ticularly, is there not even a propriety in God's giving to 
 Satan, and his angels, the ancient and inveterate opposers 
 of the Messiah, and his kingdom, a short triumph over 
 mankind, in order to render the Messiah's victory over 
 him more conspicuous and more glorious. This I say on 
 the supposition, that possession by evil spirits was alto- 
 gether peculiar to those ancient times ; and that there is 
 at present absolutely no such thing in any country in the 
 world. But, before any person can positively affirm, that 
 there is no such thing in our times as possession by spirits, 
 he must be sure of his knowing perfectly the natures and 
 po vers of spirits, and be able to show the absolute impos- 
 sibility of a spirit's having communication with em- 
 bodied minds ; and must be capable of showing, that all 
 the symptoms and appearances in diseases, in madness, 
 and in dreams, are utterly inconsistent with the notion of 
 spirits having any concern with our species. Now to es- 
 tablish this negative will be so far from being easy to do, 
 that, on the contrary, universal opinion, as well as prob- 
 ability, and the whole current of revelation, are on the 
 opposite side. Who can say that it is absurd to im. 
 such a state of the human frame, especially of trie brain, 
 as mav give spiritual agents an opportunity of making 
 
480 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 impressions upon the mind? Who can say, that sleep 
 tnay noi lav the mind open to the impressions of foreign 
 beings; and that waking again may not, by some laws 
 of Nature unknown to us, exclude their communications? 
 Who can say, that part (I do not say all) of the symp- 
 toms m phrenetic, epileptic, lunatic, and melancholic 
 cases, especially in the more violent paroxysms, may 
 not be owing to the agency of spirits'? Were this to 
 be allowed, it would not at all vacate the use of medi- 
 cines or dieting. For if the access of spirits to our minds 
 depends upon die slate of our bodies, which it is no way 
 absurd to suppose, it is evident, an alteration in the state 
 of the bod\ ma) prevent their access to our minds, and 
 deprive them ol all power over us ; and in that light med- 
 icines and regimen may be effectual even against spirits, 
 so far as they nvy be concerned, by being so against the 
 natural disorder of the frame occasioned merely by the 
 disease. So that there may, for any thing we know to 
 the contrary, be dreams, in which foreign agents mav be 
 concerned, and there may be others occasioned by mere 
 fumes of indigestion, as the poet speaks. There may 
 be epileptics and maniacs, who are so from mere obstruc- 
 tions and disorders in the brain and nerves ; and there 
 may at this day be others attacked by those maladies, 
 whose distress may be heightened by wicked spirits. 
 The amazing strength of even women and youths, in 
 some of their violent fits, seems to countenance a suspi- 
 cion, tnut something acts in them, separate from their own 
 natural force, and which is hardly to be accounted for 
 from any extraordinary flow of animal spirits. And why 
 in scripture we should have so many accounts of revela- 
 tions communicated in dreams : from whence probably 
 the heathens, ever since Homer, have had the same no- 
 tion ; seems unaccountable upon any other footing, than 
 that of supposing some natural mechanical connexion 
 between a particular state of the bodily frame, and com- 
 munication from separate spirits. The behaviour of the 
 prophet in the Old Testament, who calls for an instrument 
 of music, when he waits for an inspiration, does likewise 
 countenance the same notion; as if the natural effect of 
 melody was to open the way to the mind in a mechanical 
 manner, in order to the more foil admission of the super- 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 481 
 
 natural communications. To conclude what I would say 
 on the difficulty of the dasmoniacs in the gospel- history, 
 I do not pretend to decide which is the true solution. All 
 1 contend for is, That to explain away the reality of the 
 presence o£ spirits, is, in my opinion, unwarrantable and 
 d ulcerous, and removing a less difficulty to put a greater 
 in its place. 
 
 To return to the general objection I was upon before 
 this digression, which was, That we have no reason to 
 believe there ever were any miracles, because we have no 
 experience of any in our times ; I have to say farther, 
 that the objection is not founded upon truth ; at least not 
 upon an unquestionable truth* For many persons of good 
 judgment have declared it to be their opinion, that among 
 the innumerable fictitious accounts of supernatural appear- 
 ances and prodigies, some, even in these later ages, are 
 in such a manner authenticated, that to deny them a man 
 must deny every information he can receive by any means 
 whatever, besides his own immediate senses, which does 
 not seem highly rational. Besides, are not the comple- 
 tions of a multitude of prophecies, which we have at this 
 dav extant before our eyes, as the predicted lasting ruin- 
 ous state of Babylon and Tyre, the total subjection to 
 the latest ages, of the once illustrious kingdom of Egypt, 
 the remaining marks of the general deluge ; the unequal- 
 led and unaccountable condition of the Jews for so long a 
 period of time ; the establishment and continuance to the 
 end of the world of the christian religion, — are not these 
 standing miracles conspicuous in our time ? But of this 
 more elsewhere. Upon the whole, it is evident, that if 
 the objection was found d on truth, it could not be valid, 
 because different periods may require different measures 
 of government ; and to say that there could never have 
 been any miracles, because there are none now (were it 
 true that there are no effects of miraculous interposition 
 remaining in oar times) would be as absurd as to say, 
 that the axis of the earth must point exactly the same way 
 it did two thousand years ago ; whereas the observations 
 of ancient astronomers have put the doctrine of its con- 
 tinual change of direction, and the procession of the equi- 
 noxes, out of all possible doubt. But if the objection is 
 
 not founded upon truth, it must of course fallto the grounds 
 
 3 P 
 
482 OF REVEALED RELIGION, 
 
 Prophecy is a miraculous history, or account of events 
 before they happen. This being unquestionably above 
 the reach of human capacity, it is a proper and convinc- 
 ing evidence, that the revelation in which it is given is not 
 a human production. To pretend to determine the foun- 
 da ion, or the modus, of the prescience of the actions of 
 free agents, may be wholly out of our reach in the present 
 state. But we can form some conception of its being pos- 
 sible, in some such manner as the following, though it 
 may not perhaps be safe to affirm, that the following is a 
 true account of it. 
 
 Do we not commonly see instances of very sound 
 judgments passed by wise men on the future conduct of 
 others ? May we not suppose, that angels, or other beings 
 of superior reach, may be capable, from their more exact 
 knowledge of human nature, to pass a much more certain 
 judgment of the future behaviour of our species ? And 
 is there any thing less to be expected, than that He who 
 made us, who perfectly knows our frame, who immedi-. 
 ately perceives the most secret motions of our mind, and 
 likewise foresees with the utmost exactness, and without 
 a possibility of being deceived, the whole proceeding and 
 concurrent circumstances in which any of his creatures 
 can at any future time be engaged (as it is evident, that 
 all things are the effect of his directing providence, except 
 the actions of free creatures, to whom he has given lib- 
 erty and power of action within a certain sphere) is any 
 thing less to be expected, I say, than that our infinitely 
 wise Creator should form a judgment, suitable to his wis- 
 dom, of the future conduct of his creatures ? And to im- 
 agine that this judgment should at all effect the future be- 
 haviour of the creature, seems as groundless as to conclude 
 that one created being's judging of the future conduct of 
 another should actually influence and over-rule his con- 
 duct. The judgment is, by the supposition, formed 
 upon the character of the person judged of, not the cha- 
 racter influenced by the judgment. There are some pas- 
 sages of Scripture, which s< em to lead us to this manner 
 of conception of this difficult point. 
 
 When David (\ Sam. xxii. 12.) pursued by the invet- 
 < rate hatred of king Saul, consulted the oracle, whether, 
 if he staid in the city of Keilah, the people of that city 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 485 
 
 would give him up to his enemy ; the answer he received 
 was, That they would. It is plain in this case, that the 
 Divine prescience of the conduct of that people, in the event 
 of David's trusting himself into their hands, did not arise 
 from God's^having decreed that they should give up David: 
 for if it had been decreed, it must have come to pass. 
 Nor was their treachery foreknown because it was future : 
 For it was not future, having been disappointed, and never 
 coming to be executed. Nor could it be eventually pre- 
 determined, that in case of David's staying in the city, the 
 people should give him up into the hands of his en^my. 
 For the event shows, that it was not the Divine scheme 
 that he should fall into the snare, but that he should escape 
 it. There seems nothing therefore left to conclude, but 
 that the Divine prescience of the conduct of the people of 
 Keilah was founded in a thorough and perfect insight into 
 the treacherous character of that people, and perhaps the 
 knowledge of actual designs formed by them to betray 
 David into the hands of the king. 
 
 Again, when God foretells ( Gen, xviii. 19.) that Abra- 
 ham would " command his household after him, and they 
 would keep the way of the Lord;" he plainly shows upon 
 what that prescience was grounded, in saying, " I know 
 him, that he will command," &c. That is, I so fully know 
 his zeal and affection for the true God, that I foresee he 
 will set up and support my worship in his family, and en- 
 join it to his posterity, in opposition to the idolatry and poly- 
 theism which prevails among the heathen around. « 
 
 In the same manner, in the New Testament, though 
 the apostle Paid foretells, that there should not be a life 
 lost of those who sailed with him, notwithstanding the 
 severity of the tempest ; we find afterwards, that the pre- 
 diction depended upon the sailors staying in the ship. So 
 that probably what was foreseen was, that the ship and 
 crew might be saved by the skill of the sailors ; and that, 
 if they deserted it, it must perish. 
 
 These, and other passages, which might be quoted, 
 seem to favour the preceding attempt to solve part of the 
 difficulty of the Divine prescience of the actions of free 
 creatures- But it must still be confessed, that the sub- 
 ject is involved in such intricacies as we shall not in all 
 probability be able to clear up in the present state. How- 
 
484 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 ever it be, we arc nor immediately concerned with any 
 thing but what may affect our doing our duty : And that 
 neither prescience, nor any thing else, does any way 
 abridge our freedom in performing that, and so securing 
 our final happiness, we need not use any reasoning to be 
 convinced. We have no other assurance that we exist, 
 than feeling: And we have the same for our freedom. 
 Every man feels, that in all his actions, whether virtuous, 
 vicious or indifferent, he is naturally free. And what we 
 feel we cannot bring ourselves serious to doubt if we 
 would, though we may cavil at any thing. 
 
 That many parts of Scripture prophecy, not yet accom- 
 plished, ..re obscure, and of doubtful signification ; so that 
 the most learned interpreters are divided in their senti- 
 ments about what may be intended by them, must be ac- 
 knowledged. And that this is no more than might have 
 been expected, will appear by considering, that had many 
 future events been too clearly predicted, the obstinacy of 
 men might have rendered miracles necessary upon every 
 occasion to bring about the completion of them. 
 
 With all the pretended obscurity of prophecy, there are 
 still enough 01 unquestionable and conspicuous comple- 
 tions to show that the predictions of scripture were given, 
 not by chance, nor by bold conjecture, nor by partial infor- 
 mations from evil spirits, as some have thought was the 
 caseof some of the responses of the heathen oracles, but by 
 One who saw through futurity down to the most distant 
 periods, from the time of their being given out ; by Him, 
 Mho holds the reins qf government ifl his °wn hand. The 
 feu- following examples may serve as a proof of this. 
 
 Moses, in his account of the deluge, {Gen. viii. 21, 22.) 
 assures mankind, in the name of God, that there should 
 never be another universal flood ; but that the four sea- 
 sons of the year, and the revolutions of day and night, 
 should go on without interruption to the end of the world. 
 This is one of those predictions which could not have 
 been written since the event, as has been pretended, in 
 derogation of some others: the period taken in by it not 
 being yet concluded. And considering the extraordinary 
 wisdom so conspicuous in the character of Moses, it does 
 not seem conceivable, that he, who expected to have the 
 opinion of future ages as an inspired person, should with- 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 485 
 
 out Divine Authority, have ventured his whole character 
 upon such an affirmation as this, which he could have let 
 alone, lest the event should have detected him for an im- 
 postor. For how could he know, without inspiration, 
 what change in nature might happen, which might totally 
 change the course of days, nights, and seasons'? How 
 could we know that their might not happen some su< h rev- 
 olution in his own times, to the utter ruin of his character 
 as a prophet! Hon- could he know that another deluge 
 might not come according to the order of Nature ; and as 
 he had published the account of the preservation of" Noah 
 and his family in the ark, was it not natural to expect, that 
 upon the least appearance of such another judgment, peo- 
 ple would set about making arks for their own safety^ 
 which would have proved the total degrading of his char- 
 acter as a prophet and a lawgiver ? The event hitherto has 
 answered the prediction, and, in all probability, future 
 ages will fully prove it to have been e iven from God. 
 
 The same wise lawgiver of the Jexvs founded a very 
 important part of that constitution in a manner extremely 
 injudicious and improvident, if we suppose him not to 
 have acted upon Divine authority. WKat I refer to, is 
 his confining the priesthooel, which he deel res to be ever- 
 lasting to the single family of Aaron. Had he not done 
 this upon Divine authority, he must have run an obvious 
 hazard of the downfall of the religious polity he was setting 
 up by the possible failure of male issue in Aaron's family, 
 who had only two sons, Eleazar and Ithamar. This part 
 of the Mosaic constitution may therefore be considereel as 
 a prediction, that in a course of several thousand years, 
 there shoulel not be wanting male issue proceeding from 
 one singie family, at that time consisting only of two per- 
 sons. Hael this prediction failed ; had these two persons, 
 or their posterity, been cut off by natural death, or by an 
 enemy, the whole Jewish economy must have sunk for 
 w r ant of a priesthood, and all the prophecies had been falsi- 
 fied, or had never been given. 
 
 In the book of Jeremiah, chap. i. and following, it is 
 foretold, that Babylon, the greatest city and seat of the 
 greatest empire at that time in the world, should not only 
 be destroyed, but that it should never again be inhabited. 
 Which last particular no man of prudence or judgment 
 
486 Q? REVEA LED RELIGION. 
 
 would have ventured his credit as a prophet upon, when 
 he could have avoided giving any such prediction, unless 
 he had been, by Divine inspiration, assured of what hi af- 
 firmed. For nothing could well be imagined more im- 
 probable, than that the seat of the empire of the \\ orld 
 should be destroyed ; and still more unlikely was it, that 
 it should never be re- built. But the event shows the truth 
 of the prophecy. And this prediction is likewise one of 
 those of which it cannot be pretended that it was written 
 since the event. 
 
 In Ezek. xxx. 13, it is expressly foretold, that there 
 should be " no more a prince of the land of Egypt." No 
 man of judgment would have ventured, without authority, 
 his credit upon such an asservation, as he could have been 
 wholly silent on the head. For who could know, with- 
 out inspiration, that there should never more a prince, a 
 native of Egypt, sit on the throne of that kingdom ? The 
 event however has verified the prediction. For soon after 
 the time when it was given, Egypt was made a province 
 of the Persian empire, and has been governed ever since 
 by foreigners, having been, since the fall of the Persian 
 monarchy, subject successively to the Macedonians, the 
 Saracens, the Mamalukes, and the Turks, who possess it 
 at present. This is one of those prophecies against which 
 it cannot be objected, that it is possible it may have been 
 written since the event. 
 
 In the xxvith chap, of Ezekiel it is foretold, that the 
 great and powerful city of Tyre, at that time the general 
 re sort of traders, and mart of the world, should be utterly 
 desolate, so as to be a place for the spreading of nets, and 
 should never more be rebuilt. This prediction, at the time 
 it was given so utterly improbable, has been literally fulfil- 
 led, as may be seen in MaundreW s Voyage. And Dr. 
 Pococke, late bishop of Ossory, says, in his travels in the 
 east, that as he sailed by the place where it formerly stood, 
 he saw the ruins of it covered with fishing nets. 
 
 The scriptures of both Old and New Testament are full 
 of predictions of the dispersion of the Jews for a long pe- 
 riod of time, as a punishment for their vices, and of their 
 being at last restored to their own land in great triumph 
 and happiness. So early as the days of Moses, whose asra 
 prophane history confirms to have been about the time 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 487 
 
 we place it, viz. about three thousand years ago, we have 
 predictions of the ruin which was to come upon that people 
 in case of their disobedience (and which did come accord- 
 ingly) so clear and explicit, that no writer of our time, 
 with the help of history, and particularly Josephus* ac- 
 count of the destruction of Jerusalem, ana with the advan- 
 tage of knowing the present unhappy condition of that 
 people almost in all the countries of the world but our own, 
 could in an imitation of the prophetic style described their 
 case more exactly. In the xxviiith chapter of Deuterono- 
 my, Moses threatens their disobedience with judgments 
 and plagues of every kind ; particularly that they should 
 " become an astonishment, a proverb, and a by-word in 
 all countries;" that " an enemy should come upon them 
 as swiftly as eagles," probably alluding to their conquest 
 by the Romans ; that they should, in the severity of the 
 siege, be reduced " to eat their very children;" that they 
 should be scattered through all countries of the world;" 
 and that they should be forced " to serve other gods," as 
 they accordingly are, in the countries where the inquisition 
 is established, obliged to worship the host, which num- 
 bers of them comply with, though a gross violation of the 
 second commandment, to avoid falling into the hands of 
 that merciless court ; and that among the nations where 
 they should be scattered they should " have no ease nor 
 rest," but a trembling heart," and " failing of eyes," 
 and " sorrow," and " continual fear for their lives," with 
 many other threatenings to the same purpose. 
 
 It is also foretold by the following prophets, as well as 
 by Moses, that notwithstanding this unexampled disper- 
 sion of the Jews into all nations, they should be still pre- 
 served a distinct people; that God " will not destroy them 
 utterly," but that " when they shall call to mind among 
 all the nations whither God has driven them, and shall re- 
 turn to the Lord, he will turn their captivity, and gather 
 them from all the nations — from the fartherest parts of the 
 earth — even in the latter days." That "though he 
 makes a full end of all other nations," (by revolutions and 
 mixtures of one people with another, which renders it im- 
 possible to distinguish their genuine descendants) " yet 
 he will not make a full end of them ;" but " a remnant of 
 them" shall be kept unmixed with any other people, and 
 
488 0F REVEALED RELIGION". 
 
 M shall return out of all countries whither God has driven 
 them ;" that he will " set up an ensign for the nations, 
 and will assemble the outcasts of Israel," and "gather 
 together the dispersed of Judah," (die posterity of the ten 
 tribes, at present, according to scripture. prophecy, undis- 
 tinguished, as well as of the two) ' l from the four corners 
 of the earth ;" which shows that the return here spoken 
 of, is not that from the Babylonish captivity ; as is also 
 evident from its being fixed to the " latter days," and 
 from its being also spoken of by the prophet Hosea, who 
 lived after the return from the seventy years captivity of 
 Babylon and by Ezekiel who lived in the captivity itself. 
 
 And in the New Testament it is clearly foretold by 
 Christ, that Jerusalem should be destroyed with such de- 
 struction, " as had not been since the beginning of the 
 world, nor ever should be." And it is remarkable that he 
 again expressly mentions the "eagles ;"inall probability to 
 pointout the lio mans, (who bore eagles on their standards) 
 for the executioners of the Divine vengeance on that ptr- 
 verse people. Josephus" 1 history of that tragical complication 
 ol events, corresponds exactly to our Saviour's prediction 
 of it. He also foretells that the Jews should be carried 
 " captive into all nations, and that Jerusalem should be 
 trodden down of the Gentiles, till the times of the Gentiles 
 should be fulfilled." In the epistles there are various pre- 
 dictions to the same purpose. And we accordingly see 
 that people to this day preserved distinct from all others 
 in the world, without king, without country, without go- 
 vernment to enforce the observance of their ceremonial 
 law, which yet they keep up with great strictness, wherever 
 they can. 
 
 That through all the changes, which have happened in 
 all the other kingdoms of the earth, from the date of the 
 first of these predictions to the present time (a period of 
 more than three thousand years) that people should have- 
 had exactly the fortune that was foretold them by Moses ; 
 and that they should now in so wonderful and unexampled 
 a manner be preserved unmixed with, and easily distin- 
 guishable from, the people of all the countries where they 
 are scattered ; and this in spite of the cruel usage they have 
 had in most countries, which might have been expected 
 to have driven them long ago to give up their religion, 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 489 
 
 and mix with the people among whom they lived ; and 
 that there should nothing in this long course of years 
 have happened, to render it impossible, but that on the 
 contrarv, it should be probable, that the remaining pre- 
 diction of their return to their own land, will be accom- 
 plished, as well as the rest; this gives, upon the whole, 
 such a view, as is not to be equalled by any thing else in 
 the world ; the most amazing of all phaenomena ! and 
 shows that prophecy is .given by authority from the same 
 by whom the government of the world is carried on ; since 
 none but he, or whom he authorises, could thus declare 
 the end from the beginning. 
 
 No one can imagine the following predictions to be ap- 
 plicable to any other than the Messiah, Gen. iii. 15, the 
 first prediction is given of him, viz. That " the seed of 
 the woman should bruise the head of the serpent." None 
 but Christ could properly be called V the seed of the wo- 
 man." For he alone was born of a woman without con- 
 currence of man. Nor did any one but he effectually 
 bruise the head of the serpent, or destroy the power of 
 Satan. Again, he is several different times afterwards 
 promised to Abraham, as he in whom " all the families of 
 the earth should be blessed." Now, there never was any sin- 
 gle person, besides Christ, who was a blessing to the " whole 
 world." Gen. xlix. it is foretold that the sceptre should 
 not depart trom Judah, till Shiloh should come," and that 
 " to him should be the gathering of the people." It is 
 known, that the Jew s became subject to the Romans about 
 the time of the appearance of Christ. And the gathering 
 of the people to him is very conspicuous in the general 
 diffusion of hisreligion over most parts of the world. The 
 words of Moses, Deut. xviii. 15, are applicable to none but 
 Christ only. " The Lord shall raise up unto thee a 
 prophet, from the midst of thee, like unto me." But no 
 prophet, priest, or king, ever rose among that people like 
 to Moses, but Christ only. For from Moses to Christ, no 
 lawgiver arose among the Jews; their state being fixed by 
 God himself, to continue unchanged till the appearance of 
 the Messiah. 
 
 The predictions of Isaiah xi. 1, 3, 6, &c. are still clearer, 
 " Unto us a child is born ; unto us a son is given ; and 
 the government shall be upon his shoulders. His name 
 
 3Q 
 
490 OF REVEALED RELIGION 
 
 shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the 
 everlasting Father, the Prince of peace," (Which titles 
 are somewhat different hi the Septuagint translation, bnt 
 such as are applicable to none but Christ only.) " Of the 
 increase of his government and peace there shall be no end, 
 upon the throne of David, and his kingdom, to order and 
 establish it with judgment, and justice from henceforth even 
 forever." And in the xliii. chap. " Behold my servant — 
 mine elect, in whom my soul delighteth. I have put my 
 spirit upon him — he shall set judgment in the earth ; and 
 the isles shall wait for his law." 
 
 Nor are those of Jeremiah less plainly applicable to 
 Christ, and to him only. Chap, xxiii and xxxiii. " I 
 will raise unto David a righteous Branch, and a King shall 
 reign and prosper, and shall execute judgment and jus- 
 tice in the earth. And this is his name whereby he shall 
 be called, The Lord our righteousness." 
 
 And in Ezekiel xxxiv, &c. " I will set up one shep- 
 herd over them," (a shepherd of a people always signifies 
 a prince or ruler) " and he shall feed them, even my ser- 
 vant David ;" plainly not David the son of Jesse ; he hav- 
 ing been dead long before JEzekiePs time. " And I will 
 make with them a covenant of peace," &c. One king 
 " shall be king over them all ; neither shall they defile 
 themselves any more with their idols." 
 
 It is predicted by Hagfgtn, that "the Desire of all nations 
 should come;" the Shiloh, translated by the Seventy, 
 " the accomplishment of promises." How much the 
 coming of the Messiah was the desire of all nations is 
 shown above, and how properly Christ may be called the 
 accomplishment of promises, is known to :..ll, who know 
 his religion. 
 
 Not less express, than magnifrcent, is the prediction 
 of Daniel, chap. vii. " I saw in the night visions, and 
 behold one, like the Son of Man, came with the clouds 
 of heaven, and came to the Ancient of Days, and they 
 brought him near before him. And there was given him 
 dominion, and glory, and a kingdom, that all people, 
 nations, and languages should serve him. Flis dominion 
 is an everlasting dominion; and his kingdom that which 
 shall not be destroyed." Of the title, " Son of man," 
 which is found twice or thrice in the Old Testament, it 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 491 
 
 may be cursorily remarked, that our Saviour seems to 
 have been particularly pleased with it ; as that name is 
 given him in the ancient scriptures ; as it expresses his 
 sicred office of the deliverer of mankind, and suits the 
 glorious humiliation he voluntarily condescended to, in 
 assuming the human nature, and passing a life on eardi 
 for the important purpose of restoring a ruined world. 
 
 In the prophecies of Isaiah, JEzekiel, and Malachi, he 
 is spoken of as he that was to be .the " light of the Gen- 
 tiles, their desire, their ruler ; and that through him the 
 " name of God should be great among the Heathen." 
 Nor is there any one to whom these characters can be ap- 
 plied, but Christ only. 
 
 The important circumstance of his giving his life for 
 the world is clearly held forth by the prophets Daniel and 
 Isaiah, the former of which speaks of him as to appear 
 " seven weeks," that is forty-nine years, taking, (accord- 
 ing to the prophetical style, a day for a year) " from the 
 going forth of the commandment to restore and build 
 Jerusalem ," and that he should be " cut off; but not for 
 himself. ; " And the latter says of him; " Surely he hath 
 borne our griefs — he was wounded for our transgressions ; 
 he was bruised for our iniquities. He is brought as a 
 lamb to the slaughter ; and as a sheep before her shearers 
 is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth. For the trans- 
 gressions of my people was he stricken. And he made 
 his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death." 
 — Which words are suspected to be transposed, and that 
 his death ought to have been put with the wicked, and 
 his grave with the rich ; as he was crucified between two 
 thieves, and buried by Joseph of Arimathcea, who 
 was rich. " He was numbered with the transgressors, 
 and bare the sin of many., and made intercession for sin- 
 ners." 
 
 It is foretold by Isaiah, chap, xxxv, that the Messiah 
 should perform many great and beneficial miracles ; that 
 " the eyes of the blind should be opened ; and the ears 
 of the deaf unstopped ; that the lame man should leap as 
 an hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing." Many min- 
 ute circumstances are foretold of him, sucli as his being 
 of the tribe of Judah and seed of David; that he should 
 be born at Bethlehem, (Mic. v. 2.) that he should ride 
 
492 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 in humble triumph into the city of Jerusalem, (Zach. ix. 
 9 ) hat he should be sold for thirty pieces of silver, (ibid 
 xi. \2) that he should be scourged, buffetted, and spit 
 upon, (Isa. 1.6.) that his hands and feet should be ] ierced; 
 (Psal. xxiv. 16.) that he ^-hould be numbered among mal. 
 efaetors, flsa. liii. 12.) that he should have gall and vin- 
 egar offered him to drink, Psal Ixix. 21.) that they who 
 saw him crucified, should mock at his trusting in God, 
 (Psal. xxii. 8.) that the soldiers should cast lots lor his 
 garments, (ibid. 18.) that he should be buried by a rich 
 man, (Isa. uii. 9.) and that he should not see corrup- 
 tion, (Psal. xvi. 10.) The completion of all which pre- 
 dictions in Christ is visible in his history in the New- 
 Testament. 
 
 To what character besides that of Christy are all these 
 predictions applicable? And are they not ail strictly appli- 
 cable to Christ, and clearly fulfilled in him ? Should now 
 a set of satirical, or, enigmatical writings be proposed to 
 be explained; who would hesitate whether the true sense, 
 and proper application of them was discovered, when a 
 sense was found, which tallied exactly in every particular; 
 who would imagine those writings to have been composed 
 by chance, which showed so much regularity and con- 
 nexion, and which suited so well the proposed explica- 
 tion of them ? 
 
 The predictions which Christ himself delivered concern- 
 ing events that were to happen after his time, were con- 
 firmations no less authentic of the Divine Authority of his 
 doctrine, than the completion in him, of the prophecies 
 given of old. Besides those he gave of his own death, 
 with the particular circumstances of it ; of the behaviour 
 of his disciples on that occasion; of the descent of the 
 Holy Ghost, aid the miraculous powers to be communi- 
 ca&d to his disciples ; besides those, he gave some, which 
 cannot be pretended to have been forged after the events, 
 as has been alleged of some of the scripture prophecies. 
 His predictions of the destruction of Jerusalem, and dis- 
 persions for a very long period, of the Jews into all nations, 
 but so as they should be preserved distinct from all other 
 people in order to their restoration ; of the general preva- 
 lence of his religion over the world, and its continuance 
 to all ages; and of the mischiefs, consequent upon the per- 
 
OF REVEALED RF.LTGIQN. 495 
 
 version of it ; these are events, which at that time were to 
 the highest degree improbable. It was altogether need- 
 less tor him to risk his credit upon the completion of these 
 predictions; nor is it to be supposed, a person of his wis- 
 dom would have needlessly hazarded the confutation of 
 his whole scheme in such a manner, if he had not been cer- 
 tain that what he foretold would be fully accomplished, 
 and that though heaven and earth were to pass awa\ , his 
 word should stand, as the event hitherto has sufficiently 
 shown. 
 
 That a power of so extraordinary a kind, and which 
 should produce such important effects, especially upon the 
 religious state of the world, as Popery has done, should 
 be predicted in scripture, was reasonably to be expected. 
 Accordingly by Daniel, who flourished near three thou- 
 sand years ago, it is foretold, chap. vii. 19, that there 
 should be a tyrannical po^ver, which should " wear out 
 the saints of the Most High," and that they should" be 
 given into his hands until a time, and times, and the 
 dividing of times," that is a year and two years, and half 
 a year, which give one thousand two hundred and sixty 
 days, which in prophetic style signifies so many years. 
 This period is also mention* d in five different predictions 
 in the New Testament. This power is spoken of, verse 
 23, as a kingdom "different from all before it." And so 
 indeed it is ; being a religious tyranny, or secular king- 
 dom founded on a pretence of religion. It is represented 
 as a monster with " teeth of iron;" and " claws of brass ;" 
 and very properly; for it is the character of that merciless 
 religion to destroy all who oppose it, and to endeavour 
 (by driving those who are so unhappy as to fall under it's 
 tyranny to make shipwreck of conscience) to damn ail 
 whom it destroys. It is spoken of as " devouring, stamp- 
 ing in pieces," and laying waste the whole world, as 
 " changing times and laws," and "speaking great words 
 against the Most High." All which suit the blood-thirsty 
 cruelty, the unequalled arrogance, and blasphemous im- 
 piety of the bishops and church of Rome to the greatest 
 exactness. It is there said, that he should not " rep-ard 
 the desire of women :" which plainly points out the pro- 
 hibition of marriage; that he should "honour gods-pro- 
 tectors," that is, tutelar saints, and "a god, whom his 
 
494 - OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 fathers knew not," a wafer-god, of which god some thou- 
 sand., are made in one day by the priests, and eaten, and 
 (Jigested by the people. <)<-<_• also 1 77;;?. iv. 
 
 in the Apocalypse, chap, xi, xii, &c. it is copiously des- 
 cribed, where it is represented under the appearance of a 
 monster, or " wild beast," whose " seven heads" signify, 
 as afterwards explained, the seven hills upon which Rome 
 was buiit, and "ten horns" the ten kingdoms, into which 
 the Roman empire was divided, whose "blasphemous 
 names" are notorious, as of God's vicegerent, Our lord 
 god die pope, Vice-god, and the like, who "wars with the 
 s-tints, and overcomes them ; who " receives power over the 
 nations," and is " worshipped" by them. The same isalso 
 afterwards represented under the character of the " great 
 harlot," or idolatress, with whom the " kings of the earth 
 have committed fornication," that is the idolatry of wor- 
 shipping the images of saints, and kneeling to the Host. 
 She is afterwards represented as "drunk with the blood" 
 of the martyrs of Jesus. The kings of the earth are after- 
 wards mentioned as "giving their power to the monster," 
 as ir is notorious that most of the kings in Europe acknowl- 
 edged the pope for their lord god, and held their crowns 
 of him, as some of them do still. The same power is 
 likewise held forth under the figure of a great city, the 
 seat of wealth, luxury, pleasure, riches, and commerce, 
 one article of which commerce, peculiar to Rome papal, 
 • is her trade in the souls of men." 
 
 And by the apostle Paul this fatal delusion is called 
 The man of sin, or the very abstract and quintessence of 
 iniquity, a character fit only for the popish religion, as it 
 alone of all religions contains an assemblage of all that is 
 most exquisitely wicked, beyond what could have been 
 thought within the reach of human invention unassisted by 
 d emons. Of whk.h the infernal court of inquistion is a 
 pregnant proof; where cruelty, the disposition the most 
 opposite to all good, is carried to that diabolical excess, that 
 few hearts are hard enough to bear the mere description of it 
 it in a book . The propriety of giving die appellation of The 
 man of sin, to the Romish imposture, appears from con- 
 sidering, that it has had the peculiar cursed art not only to 
 turn the mildest of all religions into a scene of the most hor- 
 rible barbarity: but to make the most pure and heavenly 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION". 4(75 
 
 svstem of doctrines and laws, which ever were, or iviH 
 be, given to men, an authority for establishing for points 
 of faith the most hideous absurdities, and contradictions 
 to common sense ; and for licensing every abominable 
 wickedness that has ever been thought of or practised. 
 Insomuch, that the fixed rates of absolution, for the most 
 horrid and unnatural vices, stand appointed by their popes, 
 and published in different editions. By which means, the 
 great design of Christianity, which was to teach men, to 
 deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, 
 righteously, and godly, is defeateel among the deluded pro- 
 selytes to that infamous religion. For instead of this, po- 
 pery teaches, that any man, who pays handsomely, may 
 have an indulgence for any number of years to live m all 
 manner of abominable impiety, profaneness, and impurity. 
 Is not this The man of sin ? 
 
 Whoever would see how exactly the scripture predic- 
 tions are suited to represent this diabolical delusion, has 
 only to read the histories of popery, and accounts of the 
 inquisition. There he will find what hideous ravages has 
 been made by it in different countries. Witness their in- 
 famous croisades ; the massacres of the JValdenses and 
 Alhigenses, of whom almost a million were reckoned to be 
 slain. In thirty years from the founding of the order of 
 the Jesuits, above eight hundred thousand protestants were 
 put to death by the hand of the executioner onlv. The 
 bloody butchering duke of Aha used to make it his boast 
 of having cutoffinafew years thirty thousand protestants 
 in the Netherlands. The destruction of helpless victims 
 sacrificed to that infernal fury, the inquisition, in one period 
 of thirty years, is reckoned at one hundred and fiftv thou- 
 sand. Is not this dreadful and wide- wasting mischief, this 
 terror of human nature, this hell on earth, properly repre- 
 sented as a monster, or wild beast, with iron teeth to de- 
 vour and destroy, as drunk with blood, and aspiring to an 
 authority above all that is called God, or is worshipped, 
 that is, above all other power and government, challenging 
 the privilege of the grand tyrant and destroyer? 
 
 These are only a few among many instances of the un- 
 equalled horrors of this fatal delusion, and of the exactness 
 of the scripture predictions, which can be applied to noth- 
 ing else, that ever was heard of upon earth. And ifin thr 
 
496 OF REVFALF.D RFLlGlON. 
 
 days of the authors of the above predictions, there was 
 nothing known among mankind, which might give the hint 
 oi Mich a power as that of antichrist, or popery ; and if no 
 account ol this power in our times, when it isso well known 
 can in prophetic style more clearly describe it, than we 
 find it represented -in die predictions of scripture, let the 
 opposers of prophecy account for this wonderful agreement 
 between the prediction and the completion, as they best 
 can. 
 
 These are a few, among almost innumerable predictions 
 of future events, of which holy scripture is full. And, as 
 these show themselves clearly to be genuine revelations 
 from God ; the others contained in the same writings may 
 in reason be supposed to be of the same original, though 
 the times when they were given, and the exactness of their 
 respective completions, should be more subject to cavil, 
 than these here quoted. And the opposers of the revela- 
 tion, in which these predictions are contained, are in rea- 
 son obliged to give some plausible account, how they 
 came there, it not by Divine inspiration. 
 
 Let Christianity have been introduced into the world 
 when it woulel, it is impossible to give any rational or sat- 
 isfying account of its prevalence and establishment, but 
 its being a Divine institution. For supposing it forged 
 in any age before or since the received date of about seven- 
 teen hunelred years ago, it will be equally impossible to 
 conceive how it should come to pass upon mankind, if it 
 was a fiction. The christian reiigion has been established 
 upon the ruins of the national religion of every country, 
 in which it has been received. It had therefore the united 
 forces of regal power, sacerdotal craft, and the popular su- 
 perstition to bear down, before it could get footing in the 
 World. Its character is directly opposite to the sordid 
 views and secular interests of mankind, and acceptable to 
 none but virtuous and elevated minds, which in all ages 
 and nations have ever been comparatively a very small num- 
 ber of the species, and not fit, nor disposed to struggle 
 with, much less likely to get the better of, the majorin , so 
 as to cram a set of falsehoods down their throats. 
 
 Ail the false schemes of religion, which ever prevailed 
 
 in the world, have come to be established either by the 
 
 Hide's being led to embrace them by craft, or driven 
 
OF REVE\LED RELIGION. 497 
 
 to it by force. That Christianity was established by craft, 
 is on all accounts incredible, and particularly from consid- 
 ering its character, which is altogether separate from 
 worldly views, or any kind of motives, which might in- 
 cline men to deceive ; and especially from its setting up 
 upon the foot of the most strict integrity, of commanding 
 all its votaries to avoid even the least appearance of evil, 
 and bv no means to think of doing evil for the sakt of any 
 possible good consequence. Such precepts as these 
 would by no means have suited a scheme calculated for 
 deceiving mankind. On the contrary, we always find the 
 great doctrine preached up by impostors is, zeal for the 
 cause, rather than for the truth. This appears dreadfully 
 conspicuous in the bloody catalogue of sufferers, who have 
 fallen a sacrifice to the Mahometan and popish delusions. 
 The opposers of Christianity are obliged, if they will show 
 themselves reasoners, to give some rational account of the 
 establishment of it, upon the supposition of its being false. 
 They are in reason obliged to show how a religion requir- 
 ing the most strict purity of heart and severity of manners, 
 the mortifying of inordinate lusts and inclinations, the 
 avoiding every appearance of evil, and encountering all 
 manner of difficulties, and even death itself, if required, in 
 testimony for truth ; they ought to show how such a re- 
 ligion could have been established in the world by such 
 seemingly unpromising and inadequate means, as those by 
 which Christianity actually was propagated ; and that all 
 this might, in a way unaccountable by human reason, and 
 suitable to the usual course of thinsrs, have come about in 
 spite of universal opposition from all those in whose hands 
 the secular power was then lodged ; and in spite of that 
 most unconquerable of all prejudices, which mankind 
 have for the religion they were brought up in. The op- 
 posers of Christianity ought to show that there have been 
 instances similar to this ; and that a few artless, illiterate 
 fishermen might reasonably be supposed equal to a design 
 of outwitting all mankind, imposing a set of gross false- 
 hoods upon them, and confounding their understandings 
 with fictitious miracles, which they voluntarily, no one 
 knows why, swallowed down without examination; and 
 the consequence of which was the overturning all the na- 
 tional religions of a great part of the world, in spite of the 
 
 3 R 
 
498 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 power of princes, the zeal of the priests, and the bigotry of 
 the people. If they cannot find some rational and probable 
 nay for accounting for this strange and unexampled phe- 
 nomenon, upon the supposition of Christianity's being a 
 fiction ; if they cannot show, that fraud was used (for no 
 one ever alleged force) they must yield the point, and ac- 
 quiesce in the account given in the New Testament, to 
 wit, That it made its way in the world by the power of 
 its own irresistible evidence. 
 
 The author of our religion must either have been, truly 
 and indeed, what he declares himself; the Son of God, 
 and Saviour of the world, and his religion a Divine appoint- 
 ment ; or he must have been an impostor, or an enthusi- 
 ast, or madman, and his religion either a secular scheme, 
 an involuntary delusion, or a pious fraud. 
 
 That Jesus Christ was no impostor will plainly appear, if 
 we consider first what a monstrous pitch of desperate and 
 abandoned wickedness was necessary to carry a person the 
 lengths he went, if he was not really what he pretended. The 
 whole body of history cannot p'roduce such another in- 
 stance of daring impiety. For no impostor ever arrogated 
 such high honours and characters as he does ; which to 
 think of as mere fiction and groundless pretence, is start- 
 ling to human nature. To suppose a man in his senses 
 to go on, constantly and invariablv for several years, giv- 
 ing out, that he was the beloved Son of God ; that he 
 came down from heaven, whither he was again to return ; 
 that he had enjoyed glory with God before the world was ; 
 that he had power to forgive sin ; that he was to judge 
 the world; to hear him address the Deity as he does, John 
 xviiith, appealing to him for tht truth of his pretensions, 
 and keeping in the same strain to the last moment of his 
 ufe ; to suppose any man in his senses capable of all this 
 i rightful impiety, is imagining somewhat altogether unex- 
 ampled, especially if we take along wjth it, that we have 
 from this most impious of all impostors the best system of 
 laws that ever was given to the sons of men, the peculiar 
 excellence of which is their excluding all impiety, fraud, 
 and secular views, teaching to avoid even the least appear- 
 ance of evil, and to give up all for truth and conscience. 
 
 Again, what shadow or surmise, of indirect dealing, 
 What suspicion of any thing immoral, or unjustifiable, 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 499 
 
 appears against his character ? What fault were his ene- 
 mies able to lay to his charge, when challenged by him, 
 except that he had exposed their wickedness and hypoc- 
 risy ? Even when Judas, who knew his whole conduct, 
 desired to betray him, was he able to find any thing against 
 him? Had hisbehaviourbeenatall suspiciousorobnoxious 
 is there any reason to question whether Judas had it not in 
 his power to have detected and informed against him ? And 
 is it to be supposed, that his inveterate wickedness would 
 suffer any pretence for accusing his master, and justify irtg 
 his own malice against him, to pass unimproved to the 
 utmost ? 
 
 Besides, if the author of our religion was an impostor, 
 what was his scheme in deceiving mankind ? Not any 
 ■secular advantage. For it is notorious, that poverty, con- 
 tempt, persecution, and death, were his portion, accord- 
 ing to his own prediction ; that his followers had no bet- 
 ter treatment for the first three centuries ; that the empe- 
 ror Constant ine's giving secular advantages to the Chris- 
 tians was the first blow struck to the original disinterested 
 purity of that religion ; and that from the time the world 
 was thrust into the church, religion began to decline ; which 
 shows, that secular views were inconsistent with its true 
 design and genius. 
 
 If it was set up with a view to worldly grandeur, how 
 comes it every where to inculcate the contempt of riches, 
 honours, and pleasures, and the pursuit of things, spirit- 
 ual and heavenly ? What steps were taken by Christ, or 
 his followers, to aggrandize themselves? Was not, on the 
 contrary, their practise suitable to their doctrine ? Is not 
 the whole of their character a perfect pattern of self-de- 
 nial and abstinence ? Who has ever convicted them of 
 any one instance of worldly craft or design ? It is certain 
 from all accounts, sacred and profane, that at the time of 
 Christ's appearance in the world, there was a general ex- 
 pectation of the Messiah ; and that the idea formed by 
 the gross apprehensions of the people, of the character he 
 was to appear in, was that of a great prince. What could 
 therefore be more natural for an impostor, than to take 
 the advantage of this prejudice, so favourable to a worldly 
 scheme ? Instead of which we find him, (and his apostles 
 after they came once to understand the scheme he was up- 
 
500 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 on) setting up on a quite different footing, the most un- 
 popular plan, that could have been thought of; disclaim- 
 ing ail worldly views, and declaring that their profession 
 It u directly to poverty and suffering. It is indeed evident, 
 that considering the universal prejudice of the Jews with 
 respect 10 the character in which the Saviour of the world 
 was to appear, it must have been impossible -for a person 
 of that nation to frame an idea of a suffering Messiah 
 but by inspiration, or from understanding the ancient pre- 
 dictions concerning him in a manner quite different from 
 what was useful among them. 
 
 Farther ; what probability is there, that he who had saga- 
 city enough to contrive a scheme, v» hich did in effect pre- 
 vail against all opposition, should yet be so imprudent, as 
 to hazard the disappointment of his whole design by over- 
 loading it with so many incumbrances? Why should he 
 pretend to be the Son of God, il it had not been true? How, 
 indeed, could a mere human brain invent such a thought? 
 How work out of itself the imaginations of his having 
 enjoyed pre-existent glory with God, of his coming into 
 the world to give his life for the life of the world ; and of 
 his being the appointed future Judge of the human race ; 
 There is something in this, which lies wholly out of the 
 way of mere humanity. And accordingly, those who 
 heard him, at least the unprejudiced, owned, that "he 
 spoke as never man spoke." But farther; Why should be 
 forewarn his followers of the discouraging consequences of 
 their adherence to his religion, if he had been capable of 
 deceiving? Why should he disappoint the inclinations and 
 prejudices of the people, who wanted a worldly Messiah, 
 if he himself aimed at worldly grandeur? Why should he 
 prevent many from following him, who were disposed to 
 dp it, by undeceiving them, and informing them that his 
 kingdom was not of this world? Why should he exert a 
 supernatural power to withdraw himself from among them, 
 when they were going to rais< him to regal authority ; if 
 secular power was what he aspired after? 
 
 And, supposing Christianity an invention of later date, 
 why should the Saviour of the world be represented in the 
 supposed fictitious history, as suffering a shameful death? 
 "Would it not have been more likely to take with mankind, 
 for the inventors of the scheme to have represented the 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 501 
 
 author of the religion thev wanted to persuade mankind to 
 the belief of, as a victorious prince, who had got the bet- 
 ter of all opposition, than as out" who appeared on earth in 
 the most lowly station; despised and abused, while he 
 lived, and at last put to an infamous death between two 
 thieves. 
 
 Let it now be considered (if indeed it be worth while to 
 consider what is so grossly absurd) what possibility chert! 
 is of Christ's having been an enthusiast, or phrenetic. In 
 order to judge properly of this, let it be computed, what 
 degree of enthusiasm was necessary to bring a person to 
 persuade himself, that he was the Saviour of the world, 
 the Messiah, the Anointed of God, the Son of God, who 
 had existed before the creation of this world, and w;s again 
 to ascend to his former o-lorv with God, after furnishing: 
 the great work, for which he came into the world; what 
 degree of enthusiasm or madness must that man have been 
 worked up to, who could believe all this of himself, while 
 he was really no more than another mortal ? How misera- 
 ble must his phrenzy have been ? How confounded and 
 broke all his faculties ? 
 
 Next, let it be attended to, what suitableness there is 
 between such a degree of distraction as this, and the whole 
 character and conduct of the author of our religion. What 
 single instance does he give of even common frailty, or of 
 such imprudence as is observed at times in the conduct 
 of the wisest men; in the conduct even of inspired men? 
 While prophets, and apostles are in scripture represented 
 as falling into the common weaknesses of human nature, 
 (an argument of the truth of sacred history) his behaviour 
 stands wholly clear of every instance of infirmity or frailty. 
 Where are the ragings and bello wings of enthusiasm ? 
 What signs did he give of a distempered, or overheated 
 imagination? Is not his whole conduct a perfect pattern 
 of calmness, prudence and caution? Does he not baffle the 
 malicious and ensnaring questions of his crafty enemies 
 by a wisdom, which puts them all to silence? Are not his 
 answers so guarded as to defeat their studied questions? 
 Are the artful, the malicious, and the learned, more than 
 children, or fools, before him ? Is this the character of an 
 enthusiast? Does madness thus weigh its answers? Has 
 the brain-sick visionary any such guard over himself, as 
 
O 02 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 to moid the snare tha* is laid for him? Not only to avoid 
 the snare himself, but likewise to put to confusion and 
 silence his adversaries? 
 
 Let it also be considered, whether it is possible that 
 such a system of doctrines and laws should be the pro- 
 duction of an enthusiastic or distempered brain. A sys- 
 tem, wtiiph has afforded the wisest of our species matter 
 for study, examination, and admiration, ever since it has 
 been published to the world. A set of doctrines more sub- 
 lime than all that ever were taught mankind before. Dis- 
 coveries, which neither sacred, nor profane antiquity had 
 before exhibited to mankind. Solutions of the very dif- 
 ficulties, which had put the wisdom of the ancients to a 
 stand. Doctrines, beyond the natural reach of human 
 reason, and yet, when discovered, commending them. -a Ives 
 to reason, and bearing the internal marks of their Divine 
 original. Precepts, whose purity puts the ancient legis- 
 lators to shame. Laws, tending to improve human nature 
 to its utmost perfection. A rule of life superior to all 
 others, in its being absolutely perfect and complete, want- 
 ing nothing proper for the regulation of every passion ad 
 appetite, for the directing >o the complete performance of 
 every social and relative duty, and fixing the only accept- 
 able way of worshipping the One Supreme. A scheme, 
 of which it is with reason said in scripture, that the angels 
 desire to look imo it. Are these the productions of a 
 visionary? these the reveries of a hot-brain'd enthusiast? 
 It is plain that his enemies neither thought him such, nor 
 thought it possible to persuade the generality of the peo- 
 ple, who conversed with him, to think so of him. For, 
 if the) could have made him pass for an enthusiastic or 
 phrenetic person, they certainly would have chose that as 
 the easiest way of ridding themselves of him, and putting 
 a stop to his scheme. 
 
 If it can be proved, that the religion of Jesus is by no 
 means a fraud of any kind, it will unquestionably follow, 
 that it is not a pious fraud. But that Christianity is no 
 fraud of any kind is plain, not only from the excellency 
 of its doctrines and precepts, the character of its author 
 and first propagators, and its express prohibition of evcry 
 appearance of deceit on whatever pretence, but from the 
 concurrence and coincidence of innumerable collateral 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION*. 50S 
 
 evidences, which by their very nature were not within 
 the reach of human contrivance. The whole body of 
 revelation is to be considered as one uniform scheme, 
 reaching from the beginning to the end of the world ; in 
 which the salvation of mankind by the Messiah is the 
 principal part, or point of view, to which all the others 
 lead, and with which they are connected, in such a man- 
 ner, that the whole must stand or fall together. So that 
 if the Christian religion be a delusion, it is evidently too 
 great and extensive to be a delusion of human invention. 
 That it is no contrivance of evil spirits, is plain from its 
 direct tendency to promote virtue and goodness, and to 
 banish all kinds of impiety and vice out of the world. It 
 must therefore be a scheme of some being, or beings, su- 
 perior to humanity. Which is owning it to be a Divine 
 appointment: For we have no conception of a fraud con- 
 trived by any good being of the angelic rank. 
 
 That it should be prophesied at the beginning of the 
 world, and recorded by Moses a thousand years before the 
 appearance of Christ, " that the Seed of the woman should 
 bruise the serpent's head," and that Christ should be the 
 seed of a woman, miraculously conceived without the 
 concurrence of a male ; could this have come about by- 
 human contrivance ? When it is repeatedly foretold by 
 the prophets, that Christ should come of the posterity of 
 Abraham, of Isaac, of Jacob, of David; that he should 
 be born at Bethlehem ; that he should appear about the 
 time of the u departure of the sceptre from Judah," that 
 he should be " cut off, but not for himself ; be pierced, 
 be put to death with the wicked, and buried by the rich ; 
 that he should be sold for thirty pieces of silver ;" and all 
 the circumstances of his death particularly pointed out ; 
 that all these, and many other predictions fulfilled in Christ, 
 and answering to none else but him, should be found in 
 the scriptures preserved by the Jews, the violent opposers 
 of Christ and his religion ; let the inventors of Christian- 
 ity (supposing it an invention) have been ever so cunning 
 they never could have modelled the whole scheme from the 
 very beginning, so as it should answer their purpose ; they 
 could never have brought things about in such a manner 
 as to make them suit in such a number of particulars, as 
 
504 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 will appear by running over the various evidences for our 
 
 ion. 
 
 And it is notorious, that not only the weak, and illiterate, 
 but some of the wise and learned, embraced Christianity at 
 the time when it might with ease and certainty have been 
 discovered to be an imposture, if it realty was so ; that 
 those who at first were pr< judiced against it were afterwards 
 converted to the belief ol it : that numbers of those \\ ho 
 certcinly knew whether Jesus Christ was really risen from 
 the dead or not, gave up their In es in attestation, not of an 
 opinion, but of a simple fact, concerning the truth or false- 
 hood of which they could not have the least doubt : that 
 the first propagators of Christianity were not to be put to 
 silence by all the opposition they met with from all the 
 powers of the world : that though they expected nothing 
 but persecution, imprisonment, scourging andall kinds of 
 abuse, in every place they went to, without any one earthly 
 comfort to make up for their sufferings, without the least 
 shadow of any temporal advantage ; they went on still inde- 
 fatigable and unconquerable in publishing the resurrection 
 ol Jesus. Is it conceivable, that Human Nature must not 
 have been tired out with going on day after day, and year 
 after year, for a whole iife-time, propagating a known 
 falsehood, by which they were to get nothing but misery 
 in this world, and damnation hereafter ? 
 
 Deplorable is the objection started here by the opposers 
 of Christianity ; That our Saviour's disciples did not see 
 him rise ; As if it were of any consequence to the certain- 
 tv of his bein«: reallv alive a<^ain, that no one saw him 
 come out of his tomb. That he was certainly dead is 
 unquestionable ; he having been publickly crucified, and 
 stabbed in the side with a spear as he hung on the cross. 
 And that he was certainly alive again, was as unquestion- 
 able to those who conversed with him for six weeks to- 
 gether, after his passion, as if they had been witnesses of 
 his rising. And that he did not show himself to the peo- 
 ple (who deserved no such favour) but only to chosen wit- 
 nesses, is an objection as wretched as the former ; the only 
 question, being, Whether the witnesses who declare that 
 Christ was alive after his crucifixion, are credible or not. 
 But to proceed : 
 
 That a person of the conspicuous and extraordinary 
 
 
t)F REVEALED RELIGION. 50$ 
 
 Abilities of St. Paul, should be drawn into such a course 
 of extravagance as to travel thousands of miles, propagat- 
 ing every where, an idle fiction of his having had a vision 
 of Christ, and being commissioned by him to preach his 
 religion over the world : That a man of his learning; and 
 judgment should publicly declare to the world his full per- 
 suasion of the truth of a doctrine decried by almost all the 
 worldly-wise of those times : That he should own himself 
 to have been formerly in the wrong in opposing Christian- 
 ity : That he should take public shame to himself before 
 all mankind, and commit his recantation to writing, to stand 
 on record as long as the wond lasted. What a degree of 
 madness or fascination, must that have been, which would 
 have been equal to all these effects ? But what sort of mad- 
 ness or fascination must that have been, which could come 
 to such a height, and not have wholly incapacitated the apos- 
 tle for every thing consistent with common sense and dis- 
 cretion ? Yet we find the works of this illustrious propaga- 
 tor of Christianity, considered only in a critical light, are, to 
 say the least, equal to those of the greatest geniuses, and 
 best reasoners of antiquity ; and himself by heathen writers 
 celebrated as a person of superior abilities. And that nei- 
 ther our Saviour nor his apostles were in their own times 
 taken for enthusiasts or phrenetics, is plain from The treat- 
 ment they met with : For persecution was never, that I know 
 of, thought a proper way of proceeding against such unhap- 
 py persons as had lost the use of their reason. That either 
 the great apostle of the Gentiles, the other propagators of 
 Christianity, or its glorious Author himself, were persons 
 deficient in the use of their faculties, will appear too ludi- 
 crous to require a grave answer, if it be only remembered, 
 that it is the very character of madness to start from one rev- 
 erie to another, and to be incapable of all regularity or stea- 
 diness of design. For a number of persons to be possessed 
 with the same species of madness, that they should act in 
 concert, and carry on a complicated and stupendous scheme 
 for a long course of years ; that they should do what all the 
 learned and wise never could do ; that they should out -wit 
 the whole world, or rather, that they should reform and im- 
 prove the world ; to allege the probability of all this, would 
 be insulting the common sense of mankind. 
 
 Nor has the supposition of the apostles' being wilful im- 
 
 3 S 
 
506 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 postors any more hold of reason or probability, than that 
 of their being enthusiasts or lunatics. For it is evident, 
 as already observed, that the religion they have established 
 in the world is no scheme for imposing upon mankind, nor 
 at all calculated to deceive. Christianity, as it stands in 
 the apostolic writings, is manifestly a scheme for opening 
 the eyes of mankind, not for blinding their understandings; 
 for improving, not confounding human reason ; for remov- 
 ing, not riveting prejudice. And it is given with all that 
 unadorned and artless simplicity which distinguishes truth 
 from imposture. Nor can the least surmise or suspicion 
 of any indirect design be fastened upon them. No scheme 
 for aggrandizing themselves. Their ambitious views van- 
 ished at the death of their Master. And from the time of 
 his ascension, we see their whole conduct and behaviour 
 wholly disengaged from, and superior to all worldly de- 
 signs. We see them disclaiming riches, honours and plea- 
 sure, and teaching their followers to aspire only after future 
 glory, honour and immortality, and to trample under their 
 feet the vain amusements of the present short and perish- 
 ing life. The accounts they have left of their own errors 
 and weaknesses, suit very ill with a scheme to impose on 
 mankind. The dispute, which we know arose between 
 them, must have discovered the plot, if there had been one. 
 For it is evident, that they did not spare one another, and 
 that they have not at all softened things in the accounts 
 they have left on record of the differences which arose be- 
 tween them. Their accusation of their countrymen, and 
 their defying, in the most public manner, their most in- 
 veterate enemies to lay any thing justly to their charge, 
 what are the genuine marks of integrity and simplicity of 
 intention,, if these are not ? 
 
 There is indeed no argument for the truth of Christianity 
 more irresistible than the character and conduct of its first 
 propagators, and especially of its glorious author. No 
 human sagacity could, from mere invention, have put to- 
 gether a fictitious account of the behaviour of a person, in 
 soman)' strange and uncommon particulars, as the evangel- 
 ists have told us of our Saviour, without either swelling up 
 the imaginary character into that of the hero of a romance, 
 or drawing it defaced with faults and blemishes. That 
 human invention is by no means equal to any such task, 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 507 
 
 is evident from the success of the' attempts which have 
 been made by the greatest masters of description to draw 
 perfect characters, especially where any thing supernatural 
 was to have a place. And that such a character, as that 
 of our Saviour, should be drawn so uniform and consist- 
 ent, at the same time that it is so wholly new and peculiar, 
 that in all the histories, and all the epic poems in the world, 
 there is no pattern from whence the least hint could be 
 taken to form it by ; that this character, in which the 
 greatness is of so extraordinary and stupendous a kind* 
 that whatever is great in those of warriors, or heroes, or 
 kings, is despised and neglected by him, and infinitely be- 
 neath him; that such a character should be the invention 
 of a few illiterate men, and 'hat it should by them be ex- 
 hibited, not by studied encomiums, but by a bare unadorn- 
 ed narration of facts, but such facts as are no where else to 
 be equalled ; he who can believe that all this could be the 
 effect of mere human invention, without superior interpo- 
 sition, must be capable of believing any thing. So that I 
 may defy all the opposers of revelation to answer this ques- 
 tion. How we came to have such a character as that of 
 Christ, drawn as it is, and drawn by such authors, if it was 
 not taken from a real original, and if that original was not 
 something above human ? 
 
 I do not think it would be a hard matter to write a vo- 
 lume upon this subject, without treading much in the foot- 
 steps of those who have writ upon, the life of Christ. But 
 without considering at present what has, or has not, been 
 said by others, I shall only desire the reader to peruse 
 carefully the evangelical history ; (with what helps may be 
 necessary) attending, as he goes through the account of 
 the words and actions of our Saviour, to the disposition, and 
 genius of spirit, which shines; throughout the whole. Let 
 him consider the tender compassion and love for a race of 
 perverse, self-destroyed creatures, which must have prompt- 
 ed this glorious Being to condescend thus low to instruct 
 and save them from vice and its dreadful consequences. 
 At the same time, let the wisdom he showed in doing so be 
 considered ; since nothing conceivable is of greater import- 
 ance, or more worthy of a Being of the highest dignity, 
 than the recovery of a species, otherwise lost and undone, 
 to virtue and endless happiness. Let the prudence and 
 
508 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 judgment of the Divine instructor be attentively consider- 
 ed. How eiis\ had it been for him, in whom art hid all 
 the treasures of wisdom, tohave given forth his instructions 
 in such a manner as to have overpowered all human under- 
 standing ? How hard do we see it is for men of superior 
 learning to adapt their lessons to the capacities of the young 
 and ignorant ? How irksome to most men, the employment 
 of teaching? How few teachers are there who can avoid 
 showing some affectation of their superiority in knowl- 
 edge? Who could have expected, that ever he, who was 
 the instrument of God in making this world, whose Divine 
 penetration saw by intuition through all the depths of sci- 
 ence, which a Ktrwton could only collect by laborious in- 
 quiry, by accurate calculation, and distant analogy, that one 
 c pable of instructing the most enlightened archangel, 
 should condescend to initiate in first principles a multitude 
 of ignorant, illiterate mortals. " Blessed are the humble, 
 the meek, the merciful.'" Here is no affectation of mystic 
 learning ; no pompous ostentation of profound science, no 
 nice distinction of speculative points. And yet, when all 
 is duly considered, it was no more derogation from the dig- 
 nity of a teacher, capable of instructing angels, to condes- 
 cend to live to those, who may hereafter come to be com- 
 panions of angels, the first principles of virtue, which is the 
 oniy rue wisdom, than for a philosopher to teach his son 
 the first rudiments of learning. Then how wisely does he 
 suit his instructions both to the capacities and dispositions 
 of his hearers ! Parableand allegory have ever been thought 
 the most entertaining manner of communicating instruc- 
 tion. The severity of the precept is lost in the entertain- 
 ment of the fable. The sensible image reflects a light up- 
 on the moral thought, and the abstract thought gives an 
 importance to the sensible representation. By apt simili- 
 tude, therefore, and allegories drawn from the surrounding 
 objects, did this great teacher recommend to his hearers the 
 Vjkoat solemn truths and important precepts. The honest 
 and teachable mind w as thus allured tosearch after Divine 
 knowledge ; while the proud and obstinate scorned the 
 trouble of inquiring into the easy meaning of the figures 
 qsed by him. Thus did his instructions become what all 
 addresses to free and reasoning beings ought, a part of trial 
 and discipline. So that they who were well disposed 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 509 
 
 might receive improvement and advantage, and the hard- 
 hearted might hear and not understand. 
 
 With what graceful ease, and yet solemn composure, 
 does he accommodate himself to the conversation of all 
 sorts of persons! Among the wise and learned,, how does 
 he shine in communicating clear and important truth, con- 
 futing their artificial sophisms, and silencing their malicious 
 cavils ! among the illiterate, how does he condescend to 
 the meanness of their understandings, and adapt his instruc- 
 tions to their apprehension, and usual train of thinking, 
 raising his reflections from the present objects, and im- 
 proving upon the most common occasions! even women 
 and children are taken notice of by this wisest of teachers: 
 and with reason. For no well disposed human mind is of 
 litrle consequence : whatever it is at present, it is in the 
 wav to be hereafter greai and giorious. The character, in 
 short, which the Saviour of the world assumed, seems to 
 have been equally sublime and amiable. 
 
 How does his wisdom, and 'he dignity of his character, 
 appear in his discouraging ail idle curiosity, which enga- 
 ges the mind unprofitable, and takes offits attention from 
 the awful business for which we were sent into the world ; at 
 the same time that he fails not to answer any useful question 
 that is put to him ; and ever turns the attention to some- 
 thing great, and worthy of a Divine instructor to dwell 
 upon ! 
 
 How different his manner of communicating instruction 
 from the dictates of the artful impostor or wild enthusiast! 
 Instead of threatening with fire and sword the opposers of 
 Divine truth, he kindly forewarns them of the natural and 
 judicial effects of their impious obstinacy and malice. In- 
 stead of thundering out spiritual anathemas or excommu- 
 nications against those who would not take his religion on 
 trust ; instead of depriving them of the temporal advan- 
 tages, to which every peaceable subject has an unques- 
 tionable right ; instead of employing the secular arm to 
 decide in matters of conscience, where civil power has no 
 right to interpose ; instead of setting the world in a flame 
 about mere speculative opinions, and doubtful doctrines, 
 this Divine Teacher applies himself to mankind, as one 
 who understood mankind. He addresses himself to their 
 reason. He calls upon them to exert their understanding. 
 
510 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 He does not insist upon their believing him on his own as- 
 sertion, ihough he might have done so, on a much better 
 pretence, than thepurest church, the most numerous coun- 
 cil, or the infallible Bishop of Rome himself. He claims no 
 implicit aythority over their faith; but appeals to the works 
 which thv y saw him perform, and to the prophecies of their 
 own scrip l ures, which they saw fulfilled in him. The doc- 
 trines, he dwells upon, and labours to inculcate, are the 
 great and important points of morality, the duties of love to 
 God, and benevolence to man ; the heavenly virtues of sin- 
 cerity, self-denial, contempt of a vain world, humility, 
 meekness, and the other excellent graces, which make the 
 only true ornament of the human mind, which have a natu- 
 ral tendency to qualify it for the society of all well-disposed 
 beings in the universe. Is not this the very doctrine, are 
 not these the very precepts, which one would expect the 
 messenger of God to mankind to teach and inculcate ? The 
 perverse, or vicious opposer of religion may cavil aslongas 
 he will; but I think myseif safe in venturing the cause I 
 defend upon the sense of every well-disposed mind ; to 
 which I dare appeal, Whether it does not feel the Divine 
 authority of this heavenly Teacher, in the excellence of 
 his doctrines and precepts ? But to proceed : 
 
 How patiently does he bear frith the mean and groveling 
 ideas hiss disciples had at first of the character in which the 
 Messiah ought to appear! How kindly does he overlook 
 their weakness, infixing all their desires on worldly gran- 
 deur ! What pity does he show for the unhappy uninstruct- 
 ed part of the people, the publicans and sinners ! How 
 does he show himself ready to pardon, though by no means 
 to justify, the offences, which proceed from the unthink- 
 ing indulgence of passion and appetite, while he denoun- 
 ces woes upon the hardened and hypocritical sinner ! 
 Wonderful! that he, who himself knew no fault, should 
 thus bear with the faults of wretched mortals ; while they, 
 though all guiity before God, find it so hard to bear with 
 one another. 
 
 With what open generosity does he bestow the highest 
 encomium that can be deserved by mortal man, on one 
 who had just before treated him and his pretensions in a 
 very slighting manner. I mean Nathaniel, who, upon 
 Philip's informing him, that the miracles performed by 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 511 
 
 Jesus of Nazareth, gave ground to conclude, that he was 
 the Christ, of whose appearance there was then a general 
 expectation. " What," says that weak and narrow-minded 
 man, " do you expect the Messiah to come from so con- 
 temptible a place as " Nazareth '?" Yet when, at the desire 
 of Philip, he is prevailed upon to go and see him ; as soon 
 as he appears, with what unreserved openness does He, 
 who knew all that was in man, overlook his prejudice, and 
 celebrate him as a pattern of truth and sincerity of heart! 
 How different from this is the conduct of peevish mortals ! 
 Does one hear the least surmise of a reflection supposed to 
 have been cast upon him by another ! How hard does he 
 find it to forgive the mortal injury; how few can ever bring 
 themselves heartily to love those who have taken the small- 
 est liberty of this kind ! 
 
 Excepting two of Christ's miracles, one of which it is 
 needless to mention at present, its effect being of no mate- 
 rial consequence at all, but as an emblem of the future 
 destruction of the Jews, and the other was a just punish- 
 ment on the sufferers ; the direct tendency of all of them 
 was kind and beneficial, and suitable to the character of the 
 Saviour of the World, who came to deliver mankind from 
 vice and misery. What blessings might not be expected 
 from one, whose appearance in the world was signalized 
 not by vain triumphs, and honorary gifts ; but who ex- 
 pressed his goodness to mankind in giving food to the 
 hungry, sight to the blind, health to the diseased, the use 
 of reason to the distracted and possessed, pardon to the 
 wounded conscience, heavenly knowledge to the unenlight- 
 ened mind, and the prospect of endless happiness to the 
 anxious and doubtful? 
 
 When his perverse enemies, with a degree of impiety 
 never equalled before or since, accused the best of charac- 
 ters of the worst of crimes ; alleging that he, who came, 
 to destroy the kingdom of Satan, was guilty of a collusion 
 with Satan ; thus effectually defeating the highest and 
 most powerful means of conviction and reformation, that 
 could be offered to free and rational agents ; how does he 
 receive their impious accusations ? Not with a deadly 
 stroke from that hand, which could wield all the thunder 
 ofneaven; but with a calm remonstrance on the absurdity 
 
512 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 of" their accusation, the greatness of their crime, and the 
 fearful vengeance they were drawing; upon themselves. 
 
 What sup< riur sagacity does he show in defeating the 
 artful and ensnaring questions put to him by the crafty 
 and the learned ! How does he answer not only to men's 
 words; but to duir thoughts, and designs ! Let the con- 
 versation between him and Nicodemus be an example 
 among many. Of which the following short account will 
 serve to illustrate this observation, which is highly neces- 
 sary to be attended to, in order to enter into the beauty 
 and propriety of many of our Saviour's discourses and 
 answers. 
 
 This Teacher and Ruler of the Jews having secretly 
 some opinion of our Saviour as a Prophet, and desiring 
 to have some particular conversation with him, goes to 
 him in the night, to avoid giving umbrage to his fcliow- 
 doctors; being unwilling to be suspected of any inclina- 
 tion to dissent from the established and fashionable opin- 
 ions. He besrins with acknowledging; the realitv and the 
 greatness of the miraculous works performed by him. To 
 which compliment our Saviour returns an answer, which 
 seems very abrupt ; but is exactly suited to the character 
 and design of Nicodemus. The sense of it is as follows : 
 
 "I understand what you mean by coming to me thus 
 privately. But that you may at once be able to judge of 
 the doctrine, which I teach, to see how unsuitable it is to 
 all manner of worldly views, and may not be deceived into 
 an opinion of your being of a character and temper fit to 
 be a disciple of mine ; I tell you at once, That, as the bulk 
 of mankind are, it is necessary for one who would enter 
 upon the profession of the pure and spiritual religion, 
 which 1 am come into the world to teach mankind, to be 
 as much changed in his disposition and practice, as if he 
 was to be new born." 
 
 Nicodemus, not expecting our Saviour to answer to his 
 thoughts, puts a very absurd construction upon his words. 
 Our Saviour condescends to explain the metaphor he had 
 used, and to inform Nicodemus, that he meant it in a spi- 
 ritual and emblematical, not a literal sense. He then goes 
 on to the following purpose : 
 
 " If you mean to enter upon the spiritual religion, which 
 I teach, you must, not be surprised, that I lay the founda- 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 513' 
 
 tion of my doctrine, not in a set of new ceremonies and 
 outward observances, but in a total change of heart and 
 life. For you must resolve upon giving up your present 
 secular schemes, and becoming indifferent to all worldly 
 pursuits, when they come in competition with real internal 
 goodness." 
 
 He afterwards gives Nicodemus some account of his mis- 
 sion, and design in coming into the world : and concludes 
 with condemning the obstinacy and carnality of the people 
 and of Nicodemus himself among the rest, and shows, that 
 his and their prejudices in favour of their errors, and attach- 
 ment to their vices, were the cause of their opposition to 
 his pure and spiritual doctrine. Nicodemus being only a 
 little more inquisitive, and having a little more candour in his 
 disposition, than the rest of the Jewish doctors ; but not 
 enough to carry through all difficulties and trials, is treated 
 thus plainly and roughly by him, who exactly knew what 
 was in every man, and not finding the religion of Jesus to 
 his mind, leaves him and returns to his former profession, 
 without having any good effect wrought upon him by the 
 conversation, that we know of, except that he seems, by 
 one instance in the sequel of the history, to be more inclin- 
 able to favour him than the rest of his fraternity. A char- 
 acter, this of Nicodemus, fatally common among Christians. 
 To be in the way toward the kingdom of God, and yet t 
 through a defect of some one necessary virtue, or a fatal 
 attachment to some one favourite vice, to come short of it 
 at last. 
 
 To return, How ready is he to find an excuse for the 
 unpardonable stupidity of his disciples, in suffering them- 
 selves the last time they were to enjoy his company before 
 his death, to be overcome with sleep, while they saw the 
 anguish their Master was in, which, in a Being of his 
 power and intrepidity, might justly have alarmed them with 
 the expectation of somewhat to the highest degree terrible 
 and shocking ! And irood reason there is to conclude, that 
 the approach of death was not all that produced in him 
 those dreadful emotions of horror and amazement. Does 
 he not suffer the traitor himself to follow him for several 
 years to partake of his counsels, to hear his Divine doc- 
 trine ? Does he not forewarn him of the wickedness he 
 had in his neart, and give him all advantage for relenting ? 
 
 3 T 
 
514 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 'Even when he advances to betray his Lord with a treach- 
 erous embrace, does he strike him dead with a word ? 
 Though they all make their escape, and leave him in his 
 extremity, does he punish or even reproach them, after 
 his resurrection, for their unfaithfulness to him, for whom 
 they ought to have laid down their lives, who came to lay 
 down his life for them ? 
 
 Let the noble and heroic behaviour of the Prince of 
 Peaoe, toward his wicked and implacable enemies, be 
 coibidered. How does he show himself above their ut- 
 most malice ! Does he not go on still in his calm dignity, 
 and equal goodness, in spite of their utmost fury, till he 
 has finished his ministry, and the time comes for him to 
 return to the state of happiness and glory he had left ? When 
 their hour and the power of darkness prevails, with what 
 meekness does he give himself up into their cruel hands I 
 When they come to apprehend him, and struck with the 
 majesty which surrounded him, fly back and fall before him 
 to the ground, he exerts no vindictive power against them, 
 though he could with a word have struck them so as they 
 should have risen no more, and could have called legions 
 of angels, who would have thought it their honour to have 
 been commanded to interpose for his deliverance. But 
 though he wrought a miracle to avoid regal power,he works 
 none to escape an infamous death. 
 
 Behold the innocent arraigned before the guilty ! The 
 most amiable of characters treated worse than the most 
 odious deservers at any human hands. The future Judge 
 of Mankind brought before a human tribunal. He who 
 did no sin, and in whose mouth was found no guile, sen- 
 tenced to die, and a robber and murderer pardoned. They, 
 for whom the Saviour of the World came from heaven to 
 give his precious life, long to imbrue their hands in the 
 very blood, which was to be shed for them. O the dia- 
 bolical fury of hypocrisy detected! Crucify him; crucify 
 him ! cry the bloody Priests, and the blinded people echo 
 back the maddening voice. But will the Lord of life suf- 
 fer himself to be spoiled of life by a set of miserable worms, 
 whom he can crush to nothing in a moment ? No. He lays 
 it down of himself; no man takes, or can take it from him. 
 He came to lay down his life for the life of the world. 
 And if daring mortals will be so impious as to stretch 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. ' 51$ 
 
 forth unhallowed hands against him, the decree of heaven 
 will nevertheless be fulfilled, and they, who will heap dam- 
 nation upon themselves, shall be left to the destruction 
 they have sought. Yet hold your butchering hands, 
 unthinking wretches. Or if his sacred blood must stream 
 to wash a sinful world from guilt ; let the High Priest with 
 reverence offer him on the altar, the true, the last, the only 
 effectual sacrifice for sin. So shall you, and your nation, 
 escape the destruction which hangs over you. — They har- 
 den their rocky hearts against all sense of pity. They 
 urge their own destruction. Let not then the eye of day 
 behold so black a deed. Let heaven hide its face from 
 such a sight. They pierce those hands whose salutary 
 touch gave health and strength, and those feet which went 
 about doing good. They stretch him on the cross. They 
 stop their ears against the groans of suffering innocence. 
 But the inanimate earth feels, and shakes with horror at 
 the impiety of her inhabitants. The rocks burst in pieces, 
 and nature is in agonies* The sleep of death is broken 
 by the convulsion. The graves open their throats, and 
 cast up the ghastly dead. An unseen hand rends the 
 veil of the temple, and exposes the holy place, into which 
 it was forbidden to enter. His agonies now grow stronger. 
 His pangs redouble. The choirs of angels mourn the 
 sufferings of their Prince. Hell is moved, and the dae- 
 mons enjoy a short triumph. Darkness covers the face 
 of nature, and chaos seems ready to swallow alL He calls 
 on his God and Father, the witness of his innocence, and 
 approver of his obedience. He prays for those by whose 
 murdering hands he dies. He raises his voice aloud. 
 His strength is yet entire. But having finished the work, 
 and the prophecies being accomplished, by his own origi- 
 nal power over his own life, he resigns his soul into the hands 
 of the Supreme Father of All, and, bowing his head, ex- 
 pires. He dies ; and yet his murderers live. His death 
 raises a guilty world to life. Tremendous mystery ! Not to 
 beexplained, tilithe veil of time be rentasunder, and eternity 
 exposes to view the amazing scene of Divine Government, 
 too vast for mortal comprehension. Glory to God in the 
 highest J . On earth peace, and good- will towards meni 
 
CONCLUSION. 
 
 A 
 
 T last I have in great weakness, brought this long labour 
 to a period. On reviewing the whole, I find it very neces- 
 sary to beg the candid Reader's indulgence in favour of 
 many deficiencies ; though I hope he has not found in the 
 Work, any one sentiment, by which he may have run the 
 hazard of his being deceived or misled to his hurt. Who- 
 ever duly considers the disadvantage a writer labours 
 under,, who lives a life of constant care and labour, with- 
 out ever knowing what it is to have a vacant mind, and 
 whose hours of study are only those few, which remain 
 after eight or ten of almost every day in the week indis- 
 pensably engaged in the laborious employment of teach- 
 ing, and the other cares attending the charge of youth ; 
 whoever considers this, and is, at the same time, at all a 
 judge of the difficulty of composition ; will, it is hoped, be 
 inclinable to make allowances for any deficiencies, which 
 may at all be pardonable. It may indeed be answered 
 to this, That a person, whose way of life (exclusive of 
 other disadvantage:) necessarily deprives him of that lei- 
 sure and vacancy of mind which are of such consequence 
 to a writer, had better quit that province to those, whose 
 stations allow them more leisure and freedom from care. 
 Perhaps this assertion may be in some measure just. And 
 yet the gentlemen, who undertake the education of youth, 
 do not in general scruple to bestow sometime in labouring 
 for the public. The pious and learned Dr. Doddridge, lately 
 deceased, is a remarkable instance; who so husbanded the 
 hours he chiefly borrowed from the refreshments of nature 
 as to be able to publish six or eight times the bulk of this 
 book. For my own part, had my circumstances in life 
 been equal to the expence of printing this work, which 
 never had been undertaken, if it had not been with a direct 
 view to the advantage of the youth educated by me, who, 
 I hope, will find it useful as an introduction to life, to study, 
 and to moral and religious knowledge ; had my circum- 
 stances, I say, been equal to the expence of printing this 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 5iy 
 
 book, and giving it them gratis ; I should not have trou- 
 bled the public with it ; nor do I intend ever more to un- 
 dertake any work of such a size. 
 
 And now, before I lay aside my pen, I beg leave ear- 
 nestly to request the reader, and especially, above all oth rs, 
 those for whose sake this work was undertaken, to attend 
 carefully to the few following serious remonstrances. If 
 the Reader has persued the whole work, without recei- 
 ving am benefit or improvement from it he may profit by 
 what still remains, by seriously examining himself in the 
 following manner. 
 
 " Hast thou considered, O my soul, what thou art, and 
 for what created? Dost thou habitually think of thyself 
 as an intelligence capable of immortality, and brought in- 
 to being on purpose for endless and inconceivable happi- 
 ness ? Does the thought of an hereafter engage thy su- 
 preme attention ? Is eternity for ever in thy view ? Dost 
 thou faithfully labour, wish, and pray, for the necessary 
 abilities and dispositions for acting up to the dignity of 
 thy nature, and the end of thy creation ? Or dost thou 
 trifle with what is to thee of infinite importance ? Thou 
 wouidest not surely suffer thyself to be deceived out of 
 thy happiness! Thou wouidest not put out the eye of thy 
 reason, and rush headlong upon destruction? Try thy 
 prudence and sincerity, then, by comparing the diligence 
 thou usest, and the care thou bestowest, upon the things 
 thou knowest thyself to be sincerely attached to, with what 
 thou thinkest sufficient for securing an eternity of happi- 
 iess. Dost thou rise early and sit up late, to get a wretch- 
 ed pittance of the perishing wealth of this world ? And 
 dost thou wholly forget that thou hast an eternity to pro- 
 vide for ? Is money thy first thought in the morning, and 
 thy last at night, and the subject of every hour between? 
 And canst thou find no vacant moment for a thought 
 about thy great interest? Art thou ever ready, and upon 
 the catch, to seize the empty bubbles of life, as they float 
 along the stream of time ? And dost thou let slip the only 
 opportunity for making provision for futurity ; the oppor- 
 tunity, which if it once escapes thee, thou knowest, a whole 
 eternity will never more bring back ? Dost thou suspect 
 every person, and watch over every circumstance, that 
 may any way affect thy worldly affairs ? And dost thou 
 
518 OF REVEALED RELIGION. * 
 
 take up with any security, or with absolute uncertainty, 
 to found thy prospect of future happiness upon ? Thou 
 doat not count it prudence to say to thyself, riches will 
 flow in of themselves ; I shall of course rise to a station 
 of honour. — And dost thou think it wise to say, God is 
 merciful; he will not punish my neglect of him, or my 
 rebellion against him : though both scripture and reason 
 show it to be impossible, that vice should in the end be 
 happy ? Or dost thou pretend to have found out a new 
 way to happiness ! Dost thou propose to outwit Infinite 
 wisdom ? Thou canst not sureiy think of being happy, 
 without being virtuous ? Thou canst not dream of a ra- 
 tional creature's coming to happiness under the govern- 
 ment of a Being of infinite purity, while his whole nature 
 is. depraved and polluted by vice ? Does any wise prince 
 pardon a rebellious subject, while he continues in a state 
 of rebellion ? Dost thou expect that the infinitely wise 
 Governor of the Universe should, for love of thee, new- 
 model his august ceconomy, reverse his unchangeable laws, 
 and take an enemy to all good into his bosom ? Dost thou 
 even imagine it possible, that He, whose nature is unchange- 
 ably good, should ever change so, as to become the friend 
 of vice ? Hast thou aiv, conception of the possibility of 
 happiness being the consequence of vice? Canst thou 
 conceive, that heaven would be heaven to a being whose 
 faculties were overturned, whose moral sense was pervert- 
 ed ; to whose mind goodness had no beauty ; to whose 
 understanding truth and virtue were no adequate objects; 
 who coukl receive no joy from the contemplation of moral 
 excellence ? Who would prefer a sensual gratification to 
 the beatific vision of God ? And dost thou found thy hopes 
 of future happiness upon a direct impossibility ? Dost thou 
 abjure thyself of obtaining what it is clearly impossible 
 thou ever shouldest obtain, and what if thou dost not ob- 
 tain, thou art utterly undone ? But thou sayest, that this 
 is not thy dreadful case. That thou proceedest upon a 
 more prudent scheme, in a matter, upon which thy all de- 
 pends. 
 
 " Dost thou, then make it thy supreme care to perform 
 thy whole duty, without neglecting the least article of it, 
 however disagreeable to thy temper, or turn of mind ; and 
 to avoid every vice, every temptation to every vice, every 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 319 
 
 appearance of every vice, however grateful to thy depraved 
 disposition? Dost thou constantly watch over thyself; 
 dost thou suspect every other person, lest his example or 
 influence, mislead thee ? Do thou often, and regularly, 
 meditate on thy ways, and examine thy heart and thy life *< 
 Dost thou perfectly know thy own weakness ? Hast thou 
 all thy infirmities engraven on thy remembrance ? Are thy 
 sins ever before thee ? Dost thou dread vice more than 
 poverty, pain, or death? Dost thou carefully restrain every 
 passion and appetite within due bounds ? Art thou afraid 
 of the fatal allurements of riches, honours, and pleasures? 
 Dost thou indulge them sparingly? Dost thou enjoy the 
 gratifications of sense with fear and trembling? Art thou 
 ever suspicious of thy frail nature, on this dangerous side? 
 Dost thou carefully steer clear of the rocks, on which mul- 
 titudes have struck, and made shipwreck of their souls ? 
 Or dost thou, in insolent confidence of thy own fancied 
 strength of mind, dally with temptation, and play upon 
 the brink of vice and destruction ? Dost thou habitually 
 labour to make sure of keeping within bounds ? Dost thou 
 often deny thyself, rather than run the smallest hazard of 
 offending ? Dost thou live such a life of temperance, that 
 thou couldest at any time enjoy the satisfaction of a peace- 
 ful mind, and a good conscience, though at once deprived 
 of all the gaieties and amusements of affluence ? Or dost 
 thou give thyself up wholly to ease and indolence ; to lux- 
 ury and intemperance ; to pleasure and folly ? Dost thou 
 take thy swing, without restraint or measure, of every law- 
 less enjoyment ; as if the present state were never to come 
 to an end ; as if thou hadst been created only for pleasure 
 and idleness ; as if thou thoughtest of a future state, not 
 of a spiritual existence ; of perpetual improvement in wis- 
 dom and goodness ; and of sublime employment and ac- 
 tion ; but of a Mahometan paradise, as an endless scene of 
 luxury and sensuality ? If thou art in good earnest resolv- 
 ed to conquer thy unruly passions, to restrain thy sensual 
 appetites, and to regulate the motions of thy mind accord- 
 ing to the dictates of reason and conscience, and the m ore 
 sure directions of Divine revelation, thou wilt study thyself, 
 more than all the sciences ; thou wilt often retire within thy- 
 self ; thou wilt be ever finding in thy own mind something 
 to regulate and redress; thou wilt not fly from thyself; thou 
 
520 O? REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 wilt not be continually racking thy invention to find out 
 somewhat to drown thought and reflection ; thou wilt beg of 
 thy friends to hold up to thee the mirror of faithful remon- 
 strance ; thou wilt not court the slavish flatterer to pour 
 through thy ears the luscious poison, which stupifies the 
 mind, and renders it insensible of its own faults, and blind 
 to its own follies. Thou wilt labour to work into the very 
 essence of thy soul, the virtues, which are indispensably 
 necessarv for bringing and keeping it under due regula- 
 tion. Consideration, humility, self-knowledge, self-rever- 
 ence ! These will be the great lessons, which it will em- 
 ploy thy life to learn. And thou wilt wish for the life of 
 a patriarch to study them fully and to reduce them to prac- 
 tice. 
 
 "Again, dost thou, O my soul, harbour any thought of 
 malice, envy or revenge against thy fellow. creature ? Dost 
 thou stand so little in awe of Him who made thy fellow- 
 creature and thee, who will at last judge both him and 
 thee, and to whom alone vengeance belongs ; dost thou 
 fear him so little, as to think of breaking loose upon his 
 creature in his presence ? Hast thou considered, that, if 
 thy Maker do not show mercy upon thee, thou hadst bet- 
 ter never have been born ? And dost thou hope for mercy 
 from infinite Purity, who (th\ self an offender) canst think 
 of refusing mercy to thy brother ? Dost thou imagine, that 
 in a future state of perfect benevolence, there will be any 
 place found forthe sordid mind, whose affections are shrunk 
 and contracted to the narrow circle of self and family ? Dost 
 thou think there will be any happiness for thee in a state of 
 perfect harmony and love, unless thou work into thy very 
 soul the god -like virtue of unbounded benevolence ? Thou 
 canst not think a disposition to cruelty, to deceit, to anger, 
 hatred, or revenge ; thou canst not think a mind given to 
 lowcraft, to narrow ill-will, or to sordid selfishness, can be 
 found fit for a state of happiness founded on universal 
 love and kindness ? Thou canst not imagine that He, 
 whose very nature is love, will give happiness to one, whose 
 mind is deformed with angry and malevolent passions. 
 Thou canst not expect, that he will by giving admit- 
 tance to one ill-disposed mind, render the happiness of in- 
 numerable glorified Beings precarious. Nor canst thou 
 "ven conceive the possibility of a mind's being capable of 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 521 
 
 happiness which has not in itself so much as the founda- 
 tion, or first principle, on which happiness depends; a tem- 
 per qualified for enjoying happiness. If therefore thou hast 
 any thought of being hereafter a member of that universal 
 blessed society of chosen spirits, of the excellent ones of 
 the earth, of souls formed to love, and peace, and harmony ; 
 thou wilt set thyself in earnest to enrich thy mind with the 
 heavenly graces of meekness, patience, forbearance, and be- 
 nevolence; and in the exercise of these virtues thou wilt 
 find joys inconceivable to the sordid sons of earth ; thou 
 wilt endeavour to be to thy fellow-creatures, even in this 
 world, a guardian angel, and a god. 
 
 " Dost thou, O my soul, consider thyself as the crea- 
 ture of Omnipotence, formed to fill a place, and contri- 
 bute thy share toward carrying on a scheme fortht happi- 
 ness of multitudes "? Dost thou think, there is no duty- 
 owing by thee in consequence of the honour, and the favour, 
 done thee, in calling thee forth from thy original nothing, 
 and giving thee an opportunity to act an illustrious part, 
 and rise in the creation ? Canst thou think of thyself as ca- 
 pable of knowing, fearing, loving, and adoring the Supreme 
 excellence, and yet as no way obliged to any of these du- 
 ties ? Does not, on the contrary, the very capacity infer 
 the necessity of performing them '? Canst thou go on from 
 day to day, and from year to year, without ever raising a 
 thought to thy Creator"? Hast thou no ambition to enno- 
 ble thy mind with the contemplation of infinite excellence ? 
 Hast thou no desire to imitate in thy low sphere the All- 
 perfect pattern ? Dost thou think ever to go to God, if thou 
 dost not love God ? The very Heathen will tell thee, such 
 a hope is absurd ! Dost thou think thy Creator will raise 
 thee to the enjoyment of himself against thy own inclination, 
 and in spite of thy impiety ? Should he now transport thee 
 to the third heavens, dost thou imagine thou wouldst find 
 any enjoyment there, with a mind sunk in sordid sensual- 
 ity, deformed by vicious passions, and wholly insensible of 
 the sublime enjoyments of a state altogether spiritual. As 
 ever thou wouldst come to bliss hereafter, and avoid utter 
 destruction, do not deceive thyself in a matter of infinite 
 co! i sequence, and where a mistake will be irrecoverable. 
 Thou knowest, that as the tree falls, so it will lie ; that as 
 death leaves thee, so judgment will find thee ; that there, 
 
 3 T- T 
 
522 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 will be no miracle wrought in thy favour, to make thee fit 
 for future happiness ; but that thou wilt of course be dis- 
 posed of according to what thou shalt be found fit for ; that 
 thy future state will be what thou thyself hast made it. 
 That therefore to think of passing thy life in vice and folly, 
 and to hope to be wafted to future happiness upon the 
 wings of a few lazy and ineffectual wishes and prayers 
 in old age, or on a death bed, is to expect to be reward- 
 ed, not according to thy works, but to thy presumptuous 
 hopes. Which is inconsistent both with reason and 
 scripture. It is to think to attain the greatest of all prizes, 
 without any trouble. Yet thou knowest that even the 
 trifles of this world are not attained by wishing ; but by 
 industry. It is to imagine, that the infinitely wise Gover- 
 nor of tne world will be put off in a manner which no earthly 
 superior would regard otherwise than as the highest inso- 
 lence. Set thyself therefore, if thou hast any thought, in 
 good earnest to disengage thy attention from the vision- 
 ary delusions, and sordid gratifications, of the present 
 state ; and to fix thy affections on the only object that is 
 worthy of them, or will prove adequate to them. Acquaint 
 thyself with his perfections. Solace thyself with his love. 
 Prostrate every power and every faculty before him, in 
 humble adoration, and self-annihilation. Trust to him (in 
 well-doing) for the supply of every want, for the life that 
 now is, and for eternity. Sacrifice every favourite passion, 
 and every craving appetite, every prospect in life, with 
 family, and friends, and life itself, to his obedience. Never 
 think thou hast done enough, or canst do too much, to 
 gain his approbation. For if thou dost not secure that, it 
 will be of no consequence to thee, if all the princes and 
 potentates on earth frown upon thee. 
 
 " Hast thou considered, Omy soul, the stupendous scene 
 which Revelation opens before thee? Hast thou attended, 
 to the view there given of the dignity of thy nature? It is 
 to restore thee, and thy unhappy offending fellow-creatures, 
 to pardon, to virtue, and to happiness, that Heaven came 
 down to tabernacle with men ; that the Lord of angels and 
 archangels humbled himself to die by the hands, which 
 himself, by the power of the Father, created. It was to 
 raise thee, and such as thee, mean and wretched as thou 
 art at present, to greatness and glory, inconceivable not 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 523 
 
 only to thyself, but to the brightest seraph in heaven ; it 
 was for this, that he, whom the celestial hosts obey, hum- 
 bled himself to a station, and underwent sufferings, which 
 thou wouldest think thyself (guilty as thou art) hardly 
 treated in being exposed to. And canst thou, O my soul, 
 allow thyself to think of vice as slight, or venial, which to 
 prevent, and whose fatal effects to cure, thou knowest 
 what an apparatus has by Infinite Wisdom been thought 
 necessary? Canst thou think of any thing as desirable, 
 besides virtue; which alone will, through the Divine 
 mercy, secure universal happiness? Canst thou think of 
 any thing as terrible but vice, which, if suffered to pre- 
 vail, would unhinge the creation ? Wilt thou not attend 
 to the only lesson, thou art placed in this state of disci- 
 pline to learn,— Obedience ? Wilt thou shut thine eyes, 
 and stop thine ears, against every object around thee? 
 For every object teaches that important lesson : Wilt thou 
 pervert thy own understanding, and blind thy own con- 
 science ? For the excellency of virtue, and the ruinous ten- 
 dency of vice, are written upon every faculty of the mind 
 in characters indelible : Wilt thou, to crown all, to seal 
 thy own destruction, and heap on thyself damnation, wilt 
 thou neglect or oppose the immediate call of Heaven it- 
 self, warning thee to flee from the wrath to come, and to 
 work out wiih fear and trembling thy own salvation? Thou 
 canst not think thyself sure of happiness, without taking 
 the least thought about it ; Thou canst not imagine it 
 absolutely impossible that thou shouldest come to destruc- 
 tion : If that were the case, to what purpose was conscience 
 placed in the human breast ? To what end were the awful 
 warnings of sickness and pain, of judgments from heaven 
 on guilty nations, and death, the bitter draught to be drunk 
 by every individual of the species ; for what end were 
 those warnings sent, if future happiness were the unavoid- 
 able and appointed fate of all mankind promiscuously, the 
 vicious as well as the virtuous, the impious as well as the 
 devout ? As to revelation, it is the awful voice of God him- 
 self. Hear how kind, and yet how solemn its remon- 
 stances 
 
 "Hear, O Heavens! give ear, O Earth! To thee, O 
 Man, I call ! My voice is to the Sons of men. The Judge 
 of all the earth will do right. He will by no means clear 
 
524 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 the (impertinently) wicked. He is a consuming fire to 
 the workers of iniquity. He is of purer eves than to be- 
 hold iniquity, or look upon evil. The wicked shall not 
 stand in his sight. All that forget God shall be turned 
 into hell. The soul that sins, it shall die. Without holi- 
 ness no man shall see the Lord. For every idle word men 
 shall be brought into judgment. If any man bridles not 
 his tongue, that man's religion is vain. Let every one 
 who names the name of Christ depart from iniquity. 
 Let him cleanse himself from all filthiness of flesh and 
 spirit, and perfect holiness in the fear of God. Let him 
 keep himself unspotted from the world; for if any man 
 love the world, and the things of the world, the love of 
 the Father is not in him. Let him avoid every appear, 
 ance of evil. Let him lay aside every weight, and the sin 
 that does most easily beset him, and run the race set before 
 him. Let him pluck out right eyes, and cut off "right hands ; 
 that is, root out vicious inclinations, though'as dear to 
 him, and as hard to part with. Let him resolve faithfully 
 to practise whatsoever thjngs are true, honest, pure, lovely, 
 and of good report. Let him study the virtues of humil- 
 ity, meekness, patience, forbearance, resignation, forti- 
 tude. Let him den)- ungodliness and worldly lust, and 
 resolve to jive soberly, righteously, and godly' Let him 
 have respect to ail the Divine commandments ; for who- 
 ever (habitually) offends in one point, is guilty against the 
 whole law ; as he thereby insults the authority which fra- 
 med the whole. If any man will be a disciple of Christ, 
 let him deny himself, and take up his cross (if he be calied 
 to it) and follow him. For he who does not hate (that is, 
 overlook) father and mother, and wife and children, and 
 houses and lands, for his sake, is not worthy of him. And 
 whoever, in the worst of times, denies 'Christ, and his 
 religion, before men, him will Christ deny before his Fa- 
 ther and his holy angels. For the discipas of Christ must 
 not i. ..r them who can only kill the body, but after that 
 candojio more. He has forewarned them whom they 
 shall fear; even Him, who, after he has killed the body, 
 can likewise destroy the soul in hell. Let the Christian 
 strive to enter in at the strait gate; For strait is the gate, 
 and narrow the way, which leads to life, and few there be 
 ^hat find it ; and wide is the gate, and broad the way which 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION. 525 
 
 leads to destruction, and many there be who go in thereat. 
 Let him give diligence to make his calling and election 
 sure. Let him keep his loins girded, and his lamp burn- 
 ing, like those who wait for the coming of their lord. 
 Let him stand fast in the faith without wavering. Let 
 him take the whole armour of God, since he must wrestle 
 not only with flesh and blood, but with principalities and 
 powers. Let him add to his faith virtue, and knowledge, 
 and temperance, and patience, and godliness, and benevo- 
 lence. Let him be careful that all those virtues be in him ; 
 and that they abound and increase. Let him resolve to 
 go on to perfection, forgetting past attainments, and reach- 
 ing forward to the things which are before, or those de- 
 grees of virtue which he has not yet attained ; let him en- 
 deavour to walk as Christ walked ; (not form his charac- 
 ter according to the example of men of the world) let him 
 be a follower of God; (not a fashion) let him endeavour 
 to be perfect, even as his heavenly Father is perfect. Let 
 him not be contented with ordinary degrees of goodness ; 
 but take care that his righteousness exceed that of scribes 
 and pharisees, and formal professors. And let him re- 
 solve, in spite of all opposition, to persevere to the end, fight- 
 ing the good fight of faith, and working out his own sal- 
 vation. For the Son of man shall come in his glory, and 
 all his holy angels with him ; and he shall sit on the throne 
 of his glory. And before him shall be gathered all nations. 
 And he shall separate the good from the wicked. And 
 he shall say to the good on his right hand, come, ye bless- 
 ed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you 
 from the foundation of the w r orld. And on the wicked 
 on his left, he shall pass the dreadful and irreversible sen- 
 tence, depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for 
 the devil and his angels. 
 
 " Here is what ought to the highest degree to alarm 
 thee, O my soul, if thou hast not given thyself up to a 
 spirit of stupidity and insensibilitv. Consider, in time, 
 ere it be too late, what thou hast to do. Here is life and 
 death, the blessing and the curse, fairly set before thee for 
 thy choice. If thou deceivest thyself, thou alone will be 
 the loser ; and thy loss will be irretrievable. For it is the 
 loss, not of fading wealth, or momentary pleasure, but of 
 endless hnppjness and inconceivable glory. It is the loss 
 
526 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 of thyself. And what wilt thou find to make thee up for 
 the loss of thyself? Put then the case the most that can 
 be to the advantage of the choice of virtue ; still thou wilt 
 find virtue to be thy true wisdom, and thy only interest; 
 and the choice of vice to be the very madness of folly. 
 Suppose, on one hand, thou wert sure thou couldest, by 
 various wicked arts, attain the full enjoyment of every 
 earthly delight ; that thou wert certain of gaining the em- 
 pire of the world, and of revelling in wealth and wanton- 
 ness, like the leviathan in the deep, for a whole century of 
 years : If for this thou wert to sell thy everlasting happi- 
 ness ; if for this thou wert to expose thyself to utter de- 
 struction, where would be the gain ? Rather, would not 
 the loss be infinite, and the folly of choosing it infinite ? 
 Suppose, on the other hand, that virtue and religion abso- 
 lutely required thy submitting to poverty, affliction, and 
 persecution for life, and to the fiery trial of martyrdom at 
 last ; to consider, whether thou oughtest in prudence to 
 choose the light afflictions of the present state, which are 
 but for a moment, and are to be followed with an exceed- 
 ing and eternal weight of glory ; or to throw thyself into 
 the hideous ruin and perdition, which awaits the wicked 
 hereafter ; to conside r or hesitate which of these ought to 
 be chosen, would it not be a folly infinitely greater than his, 
 who should hesitate whether he ought to throw himself 
 out of a window when the house is on fire, or to take to 
 the boat when the ship was sinking *? Suppose, that the fu- 
 ture issue of virtue and vice respectively were in some 
 measure doubtful, instead of being certain : Suppose it 
 were possible, that vice might, by some inconceivable 
 means, come to escape, and that there were any appearance 
 of common sense in imagining that it might so happen, 
 that virtue might miss of its reward hereafter ; who would 
 hesitate a moment, whether he ought to choose what he 
 knows he cannot long enjoy at any rate, and to reject what, 
 if he attains it, will hold to eternity ; whether he ought to 
 avoid afflictions, which he is certain must, in a very few 
 years at most, be over ; or to make sure of avoiding a pun- 
 ishment, which, if it come upon him, will be lasting, and 
 severe beyond all imagination. Upon any principle, the 
 choice of a vicious course is apparently to the highest de- 
 gree foolish and desperate. But taking things according 
 
OF REVEALED RELIGION". 527 
 
 to their true state, that is, choosing vice, which is the dis- 
 ease of the mind, the bane of peace and happiness even in 
 this life, and rejecting virtue, which, except in the rare 
 and unusual case of persecution, is its own reward, even 
 in the present state ; acting in direct opposition to the con- 
 viction of conscience, to the remonstrances of the wise and 
 good of all ages, and to the voice of nature, and of Divine 
 revelation itself! — All for the sake of what is vanity and 
 vexation when attained, and uncertain beforehand whether 
 at all attainable ; but certainly not to be enjoyed long, if 
 attained ! To give up a happiness, certain, lasting, and 
 immense — not for the actual enjoyment, but for the bare 
 expectation of a perishingadvantage ! — to sell one's soul — 
 not for the possession of a vanity, but for the uncertain 
 prospect of a vanity ! — to give up heaven and brave dam- 
 nation — not for a reality, but for a dream I — for the hopes 
 of a dream. What words, what tongue of men or angels 
 can express the desperation of this madness ! Yet this is 
 the wisdom of reasoning men. This is the prudence of 
 the children of this world." 
 
 Let the reader make it his constant practice in this man- 
 ner to examine himself, with a care proportioned to the 
 importance of the worth of an immortal soul. And would 
 to God that the whole human species could have been 
 brought to the wisdom of valueing themselves according to 
 their worth. And that it were possible, in a consistency 
 with the freedom of moral agents, that no one individual 
 of the human, or any other rank of intelligences, should 
 utterly perish ; but that every rational mind that has been 
 blest with existence, might at last attain the end of its ex- 
 istence, the beatific enjoyment of its Creator. 
 
 THE END. 
 

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