Tappan Presbyterian Association
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LIBRARY
Presented by HON. D. BETHUNE DUFFIELD.
From Library of Rev. Geo Duffield, D.D.
DEO REIPUBLICE ET AMICIS
ESTO SEMPER FIDELIS
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Section
מין.
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95301
1 4
THE
WORKS
Of the late REVEREND
Mr ROBERT RICCALTOUN,
Miniſter of the Goſpel at Hobkirk.
IN THREE VOLUM É S."
NEVER BEFORE PRINTED.
VOLUME I.
CONTAINING
Effays on HUMAN NATURE,
AND
Effays on feveral of the Doctrines of R E-
VELATION.
EDINBURGH:
Printed by A. MURRAY & J. COCHRAN.
For the AUTHOR'S SON.
L
Sold, at Edinburgh, by J. DICKSON, and other bookfel-
crs; and at London by E. & C. DILLY, and A. BELL.
MDCCL X X I.
t
1
3
}
Tappan Pres, Asso i'n,
iii
11-27 1723 NTENT S.
Effays on HUMAN NATURE.
Eff.I. Of Happiness and Perfection in
general, abfolute and limited,
Pag.
Eff. II. Of the Human Conftitution, and
Capacity arifing upon the pro-
per improvement of it,
Eff. III. Of Human Knowledge, its na-
ture, extent, and uſe,
Effays on feveral of the Doctrines
of REVELATION.
1. Propriety,
31
132
163
2. The Knowledge of God,
168
3. Faith,
170
4. Views of God,
172
ledge,
5. The Original and Progreſs of Know-
6. Nofce teipfum,
7. The Bible way of teaching compared
with the Philofophical,
174
178
190
8. The
}
iv CONTENT S.
8. The character of the Deity as Crea-
tor, and the state of the creature
arifing from it
Pag,
196
9. Certain truths current in the world,
which could never have entered
but by Revelation, and the Crea-
tor's teftimony,
10. The Original State of Mankind,
203
209
11. The Character of Jefus Chrift,
238
12. The original ſtate of Mankind
the entrance of fin,
after
255
13. Abraham,
291
14. Imputation of Sin and Righteouſneſs, 305
15. Abraham's Covenant,
319
16. Sacrifices and Priesthood,
337
17. The import of the word God,
359
18. The Propitiatory, or Mercy-Seat,
370
19. Reconciliation,
373
20. Regeneration, and Eternal Life,
390
21. The Spirit, and Inſpiration,
22. Heaven; or, The world of Spirits,
23. The way to Eternal Life,
405
429
440
RATU M.
ERRA
p. 46. lin. 13. for fhould read may not
ESSAYS
ON
HUMAN NATURE.
ESSAY I.
Of Happiness and Perfection in general, ab-
folute and limited.
APPINESS and PERFECTION are
words of great fignificancy:
They are in every body's mouth,
H
but underſtood by very few.
Every man has fome pretenfions to the lat-
ter, and profeffes to be in purfuit of the
former; and certainly is fo: but fuch dif-
ferent roads are taken, and theſe fo wildly
inconfiftent, that one may with great cer-
tainty conclude, that moſt part know not
what they are doing.
The world, both philofophers and vul-
gar, ſeem to have been always agreed in
the thing, however they differed in the
expreffion, that happineſs is ſomething
VOL. I.
A
near
2
Eff. I.
Of HAPPINESS
*
near the fame with being pleaſed: and to
be perfectly pleafed, is, indeed, to be quite
happy and accordingly, what contributes
to pleaſure of any kind, is univerfally call-
ed good; and what gives pain, or even a-
bates the degree of pleafure, goes under
the name of evil.
;;
But as it may happen, that men as well
as children may be pleafed with trifles
nay, may be ſo far miſtaken as to fancy
evil to be good, and good evil; the enjoy-
ment can continue no longer after the
miftake is difcovered. It is likewife a-
greed, that pleaſure muſt have fome folid
and durable foundation, commenfurate at
leaſt to the capacity and duration of the
being who is to find his happineſs in it.
A failure in either of thefe, muft produce
great abatements even in the preſent en-
joyment, and in the end unavoidable mi-
ſery and diſtreſs.
Thefe are good generals; but when we
come to look into the meaning of them,
and apply them to practice, what a bound-
lefs wildernefs are we left to wander in!
What is good and what evil in the extent
of the univerſe, or even ſo far as man is
or may be concerned, how hard is it to
fay?
and PERFECTION.
3
fay? and yet how neceffary to be tho-
roughly known? But even this is but a
preliminary. The feveral objects which
are the materials of pleaſure and pain, maſt
be carefully weighed; and their feveral
degrees of moment, one way or other, ex-
actly adjuſted. The frame and conftitu-
tion of man muſt be narrowly examined,
his capacity, and powers thence arifing, the
relations he ſtands in to the various objects
without him, the purpoſes thefe objects are
fitted to anſwer, and how they are to be pro-
cured, and improved, for raifing and main-
taining the higheſt pleaſure, muft all be
thoroughly underſtood.
Is this a taſk for man? What ſtrength
of underſtanding, what accuracy of judge-
ment, what application and induſtry muft
be required to fucceed but tolerably in it?
Enough to diſcourage any fober man from
fo much as attempting it; and the more
fo, that the moſt exalted geniufes have been
employed about it near fix thouſand years,
and, after all their reſearches, have left the
world in greater uncertainty than, we have
reafon to believe, they were at firſt fetting
out.
But there is one fingle confideration
which
A 2
4
Eff. I.
Of HAPPINESS
Man is
which greatly overbalances all difcourage-
ments; the neceffity of the thing.
obviouſly fo made, as not only to be fuf-
ceptible of pain and mifery, but to have
his feelings very quick. and ſtrong: his
wants are fo many, and his appetites and
cravings fo keen, that life itſelf becomes a
burden to him if they are not gratified.
They who believe that God is good, can
never perfuade themſelves, that any con-
ftitution of his was framed on purpoſe to
make a numerous order of creatures ne-
ceffarily miferable. They muſt fuppofe,
that fome how or other relief is provided,
and fuch relief as lies on a level with every
capacity, if men are not wanting to them-
felves; which they evidently are, if they
do not carefully look after and improve all
the helps and affiftances laid to their hands.
It requires fcarce any attention to fatisfy
one's felf thoroughly, that it is impoffible
for any one man to have the full enjoyment
of all the objects or materials of pleaſure,
ſcattered as they are through the univerſe;
nay even of thofe which lie next to our
hands, it is but a ſmall pittance that can fall
one's fhare. Hence, it may be prefu-
med, philofophers and wife men came all
to any
to
and PERFECTION.
5
3
to agree in the neceffity of fome one thing,
which every man might at all times have
free acceſs to, and which fingly fhould be
able to afford him perfect pleafurę; and
thereby compenfate the want, and even
the loſs, of every other thing. A moſt ne-
ceſſary expedient, could they have put the
world in poffeffion of it. But how unhap-
py they were in their gueffes what this
chief good, as they called it, ſhould be, ap-
pears abundantly, without further exami-
nation, from the endleſs variety of their o-
pinions concerning it: of which a learned
Roman is faid to have reckoned no fewer
than two hundred and eighty-eight differ-
ent ones; and I believe no wife man will
much regret the lofs of the particulars.
The two moft famed fects of the old
philofophers ran into quite oppofite ex-
tremes. The one, reaſoning juſtly from
the abſtract nature of happineſs, conclu-
ded, that it muſt lie in fomething which
every man muſt have fuch a perfect poffef-
fion of, that it ſhould not be in the power
of any being whatſoever to deprive him
of it; and thence were tempted, very un-
naturally, to fet off their wife or happy
man as a fort of independent felf-fufficient
being,
6
Eff. I.
Of HAPPINESS
1
being. The worth of what they called
virtue, and the ſelf-enjoyment ariſing from
the reflection upon his own excellency and
worth, made him, in their opinion, a match
even for the gods, and far above every
earthly power.
The other very juftly concluded, that
thefe fort of flouriſhes were altogether chi-
merical, and fuch as the human conſtitu-
tion could by no means admit of; and ob-
ferving man to come into and go out of
the world much in the fame manner as o-
ther animals do, they took their meaſures
almoſt as much too low, as the others did
too high; and concluded, that his plea-
fures muſt be much of the fame kind,
bounded at leaſt with the proſpects and
enjoyments of a prefent life; and moſt of
them went no further than thoſe ſenſual
gratifications which the mere brute part
of the creation poffefs in greater perfec-
tion.
Thoſe who attempted to ſteer a middle
courſe, having no certain foundations to
build on, found themfelves involved in
inextricable difficulties, and ran into fuch
confufion as obliged them in effect to quit
the purſuit, and to refolve all private hap-
pinefs
and PERFECTION.
7
K
pinefs into the good of the public or
community of which they were mem-
bers. Neceffity forced every man to hold
himſelf content with his own fhare: and
the whole bufinefs of the beſt fort of
moraliſts has been, to find out expedients
and colours for making men eafy in that
fituation.
The moſt part, if not all of their mif-
takes, may be justly imputed to their ne-
glecting, or not being fufficiently inftruct-
ed, to diſtinguiſh between abfolute, inde-
pendent, and every way perfect happineſs,
and that which is limited, dependent, and
reaching only to a certain degree; fuch as
the conftitution and capacity of inferior
beings will admit of; and the feveral mea-
fures and degrees of the latter, as they
approach nearer to or are further removed
from abfolute perfection. To the firſt,
there is more neceffary than the moſt ex-
alted apprehenfions of the fublimeſt philo-
fophers were ever able to reach. And un-
der the laſt, it is evident there muſt be as
many different degrees, as there are diffe-
rent orders of limited and dependent be-
ings.
To
8
Eff. I.
Of HAPPINESS
To take the meaſures of abfolutely per-
fect happineſs at the loweft, it is evident
there muſt be abfolutely perfect poffeffion
and enjoyment of complete and abfolutely
perfect good; that the matter, the poffef-
fion, and the enjoyment, muſt all be per-
fect, and abfolutely fo, to make out a hap-
pineſs of this kind: the leaft remiffion or
abatement in any of thefe, muft produce a
proportional diminution of happineſs, and
bring it down fo much below perfection.
It ſcarcely needs any reflection to aſſure
one, that the matter of this kind of hap-
pineſs, or what raiſes and maintains the
conſtant flow of pleaſure, fatisfaction, and
delight, wherein the very nature of happi-
nefs lies, muſt be abfolutely perfect in e-
very view; and therefore muſt be fuch, as
not only doth not admit, but moſt effec-
tually excludes, every degree and every
tendency toward evil, of what kind foever;
fuch as fhall furnish out, and actually
maintain, in the higheſt degree, and with
infallible certainty, complete finiſhed plea-
fure, fatisfaction, delight, and continue
for ever to do ſo; and, at the ſame time,
fupport the happy being in the poffeffion
and
and PERFECTION.
9
and perfect exerciſe of all poffible powers,
equal, and always the fame, without de-
creaſe, intermiffion, or end; as nothing
can be more evident, than that a failure,
the leaft failure, in any of theſe, would
make a flaw in the enjoyment.
That there must be at the fame time an
abfolutely perfect poffeffion of this fame
perfect good, is as evident; and that can-
not fubfift without the abfolute property
of it, independent of, and altogether a-
bove the reach of, every other being: or, to
ufe the Stoics phrafe, The happy being
muſt have it in himſelf; not in that pre-
carious and loofe manner they imagined
their wife man poffeffed of virtue, but that
it fhall be as effential to, and infeparable
from him, as his own being.
In one
word, himſelf muſt be the fund of his own
happineſs, and in the all-fufficient fulneſs
of his own being, and the unbounded extent
of his powers, it muſt lie. -
But, after all, the whole of that pleaſure
which confitutes happineſs, lies in the en-
joyment. However perfect the object is,
yet, if every thing that is pleafing and agree-
able about it is not taken in, and improved
Vol. I.
B
10
#
ΙΟ
Eff. I.
Of HAPPINESS
<
to the beſt advantage, fo much of happi-
neſs muſt be loft: and from what was juſt
now obferved, it will be readily allowed
there muſt be perfect being. The word is
very common, but very general, and ap-
plied to every thing that is, or rather that
we have any knowledge of. Every body
thinks he knows the meaning of it; but
when put upon explaining his concep-
tions, the moſt learned will find himſelf
quite at a lofs; and that indeed he neither
hath, nor can have, any proper concep-
tions of its true import and meaning.
The truth is, all our conceptions are form-
ed upon thofe fuperficial views we have
of the appearances of things; that is, their
fenfible qualities, by which we come to all
the knowledge we have of their exiſtence.
But what this fame exiſtence or being is,
whether the fame, or fomething different,
from what we call fubftance, and which is
equally unknown to us, I apprehend we
have no poffible way, in our preſent ſtate
at leaſt, of attaining any information. It
appears evidently above the level of our ca-
pacities; and perhaps it is the prerogative
of the perfect being alone, who is the fole
proprietor of it, to underſtand its nature.
There
and PERFECTION.
ΙΙ
There is another, and which is reckoned
a more full and diftinct conception, of
what ſhould qualify any being for enjoy-
ment, and which goes under the name of
life. Some of its confequences and effects
are well and familiarly known by us; but
when we come to look into the origin and
cauſe of theſe, which is properly what we
call life, we will find it juſt as much a fe-
cret to us as the other; known only, as it
is fit it ſhould be, to him who has life in
himſelf. But weak and low as our notions
of life are, it is from theſe that the higheſt
conceptions of perfection we are capable of,
are formed. We have no other
We have no other way of
conceiving of things fo much beyond our
reach, than by applying to them what we
know of fimilar, or any how analogous, ef-
fects, and the powers we are thereby led
to fuppofe neceffary for their production,
and removing, fo far as we are able, every
imperfection.
It is thus that, even under all the difad-
vantages of our prefent condition, we are
naturally led to conceive of life, and the
powers of it, as including every thing
neceffary to make out a capacity for every
enjoyment. In its loweft degree, it ap-
B 2
pears
12
Eff. I.
Of HAPPINESS
pears to carry in it the power of perceiving
the objects that fall within its obſervation;
of which there muſt be an endleſs variety, ac-
cording to the different meaſures of ftrength
and weakneſs: nor can the perfection of
it be imagined, without the moſt thorough
comprehenfive and inftantaneous know-
ledge, and that in the moſt direct and in-
tuitive manner, without any of thoſe
round-about ways which we find our-
felves obliged to take, even with ſuch things
as lie next to our hands.
From the fame views of life we readily
conclude, there muft, in the perfection of
it, be found a perfect taſte, reliſh, or what
fhall we call that pleaſurable perception, of
the beauty, worth, and every excellency
of the object; which muft, in the fame
native and neceffary manner, produce a
fuitable delight, complacency, and, reſt-
ing in the enjoyment, admitting no further
inclination, nor any poffibility of fatiety.
The notion of life likewife neceffarily
implies in it certain active powers, in op-
pofition to thefe maffes of dead matter,
which cannot fo much as move themſelves,
much leſs any other thing, until they are
fet agoing by fomething elfe; and, even
then,
and PERFECTION.
13
upon.
then, are directed entirely as they are acted
When life then is conceived at the
higheſt, that is, when in our way, all im-
perfection is removed, it leads us into the
conception of a perfectly free, independent,
and therefore unlimited, power; which ob-
viouſly either fuppofes, or contains in it,
every perfection and excellency; and which
cannot ſubſiſt without fecuring perfect and
complete happineſs, founded in, and ari-
fing from, the moſt perfect ſelf-enjoy-
ment.
This, it is evident, is a fort of happineſs
not made for man, nor any being what-
foever which is either limited and de-
pendent, or has the materials for main-
taining life and happineſs to ſeek from
without itſelf; which, on the moſt curſory
reflection, will be found to be the cafe of
every creature whatſoever; and there-
fore, when we fpeak of perfection in any
of theſe inferior fort of beings, it muſt be
underſtood in a quite different fenfe. In
him who poffeffes being, and has life
with all its powers as his abfolute pro-
perty, it is abfolute and boundleſs,
without any limitation or confinement.
In all others, it is evidently relative, re-
ſpecting
14
Eff. I.
Of HAPPINESS
ſpecting either fuch beings whoſe frame
or conftitution is inferior to theirs, or
fuch of the fame fpecies as fall fhort
of what their conftitution might have ad-
mitted. And thus all of them, even the
moſt perfect of their kind, are fo limited
and confined, that they can by no means
go beyond the bounds nature has fet
them.
There are three very different ranks
and orders of beings which fall under our
obfervation ; man, brutes, and vege-
tables. Thefe all have life attributed
to them, but in very different fenfes, and
of quite different kinds. The laſt eſpe-
cially is of fo very low a nature, as that it
can have no pretenfions to the name, but
on a very remote analogy, founded on the
refemblance it bears to the lowest vital
functions in animals; preferving their be-
ing, and promoting their growth, by ta-
king in proper nouriſhment, and propa-
gating by their ſeveral ſeeds.
Among animals, as the very loweſt of
them are by their fabrick and make ſenſibly
diſtinguiſhed from the moſt perfect of the
vegetable kind, fo there is fomething pe-
culiar to every fpecies which diſtinguiſhes
it
and PERFECTION.
15
it from the reſt. The inhabitants of
the air, earth, and water, thoſe above and
under the earth, are each of them formed
for their own way of living, and incapable
of another: nay, among thofe of the fame
element, there is a furprifing diverfity; and
what is life to one, is death to another.
Though many of theſe have excellencies
and perfections in their kind, acuteneſs of
ſenſe, ſtrength and agility, &c. much a-
bove what man can pretend to; yet what
would make the perfecteſt brute quite hap-
py, the higheſt enjoyments they are ca-
pable of, would make but very indifferent
entertainment for a man. And as we have
more than probable reaſon to believe, that
there are numberlefs orders of beings a-
bove as well as below us, fome of them
perhaps lodged in more perfect bodies,
and others quite difengaged from matter;
could we bring them under our obſerva-
tion, we would, no doubt, find the fame
difproportionate enjoyments fubfifting a-
mong them.
This difference in the frame and make
of the feveral orders of inferior beings, is
what we call their nature or conftitution;
and which is palpably difcernible in mate-
rial
2
16
Eff. I.
Of HAPPINESS
rial beings; where the different contexture
of parts, and the manner in which they
are put together, point out to us how they
are to be accounted for, and how they are
fitted for receiving the impreffions, and
anfwering the purpoſes, they appear de-
figned for. The fame holds pretty fully
in fuch beings as, though themſelves of a
fuperior nature, ftand connected with or-
ganiſed material bodies, more or lefs per-
fect, and exert their operations in and by
them. When we attempt to afcend high-
er, our ideas and proper conceptions quite
fail us; and yet we cannot help imagi-
ning there must be fomething analogous
to, and fome way refembling, this, which
we likewife call their nature or conftitu-
tion, though we know not how to make
a diftinct account of it.
And hence arifes what we call the capa-
city of any fort of being, the higheſt ap-
proach toward perfection their conftitution
will admit; or, which is the fame thing,
their fitneſs to take in and improve proper
objects for the fupport of their being, and
the enjoyments of life, according to the
different meaſures and degrees of thoſe vi-
tal powers which belong to that fort of
beings,
and PERFECTION.
17
beings, and beyond which they cannot
reach. And hence, as the moſt perfect
vegetable, with all the care and culture that
can be beſtowed on it, will never become
an animal, nor a mere brute a man, we
judge accordingly of their different capa-
cities; but yet, by proper care and tend-
ing, one individual may be brought
greatly to excel his fellows left in the wild.
ftate of nature; and fome kinds of animals
more than others.
Of all beings known to us, the human
conſtitution admits of the higheſt improve-
ment. There feems to be much great-
er difference between man and man, than
there is betwixt the moſt perfect brute and
Hence a
the moſt deſpicable infect.
ftrange variety, or rather different degrees,
of capacity, and thence of pleafures and
enjoyments. What quite pleaſes one clafs,
appears childish and trifling, airy and
notional, or perhaps quite unnatural, to
another.
Hence the great difficulty and fallacy in
judging what is natural, and what other-
wife. Compare` a child, or even an un-
taught man, with a great genius, culti-
vate and improved to the beſt advantage;
VOL. I.
C
how
1
18
Eff. I.
Of HAPPINESS
how immenfe the odds! and how like dif-
ferent fpecies! And yet we cannot fay
the one is more natural or unnatural than
the other; but that the one is purely na-
tural, and the other acquired; not as plants
and animals acquire their bulk and ftature,
but by a fort of culture peculiar to the hu-
man conftitution.
To fix then the true ftandard of any in-
ferior being's capacity, efpecially that of
man, in which we are moſt concerned, it
muſt be perverfely wrong, under a pretext
of following nature, to fix on any of the
lower degrees of improvement: we muft
take it at the higheft, that is, as high as
the conftitution will admit of; and there-
fore there will most frequently be found a
very great odds between what pleaſes and
what ſhould pleaſe, or what they call con-
tentment and happineſs. The former may
be found in the very loweſt meaſures of
improvement, and perhaps even in wild
nature; and when it refts there, is fo far
from being a virtue, that it is really the
moſt pernicious vice, as it effectually marrs
one's happineſs, by hindering his advance-
ment toward fuch degrees of perfection
as
and PERFECTION.
19
as ſhould have made one qualified for the
enjoyments of it.
To find out the original, and affign the
caufe, of this neceffary imperfection, fo
obfervable in the moſt perfect beings
which fall under our obfervation, exceed-
ingly perplexed the old philofophers, and
led them into abfurdities, not worth any
one's while to recount in the light where-
in we now ſtand. Nor may this be con-
ſtructed into a difparagement of their great
abilities; as I am well fatisfied, the acu-
teſt of our natural theologifts would have
acquitted themfelves not one jot better,
had it been their unhappineſs to lie under
their diſadvantages. Thofe who are com-
monly reckoned the moft abfurd, were
perhaps the moſt rational of all, and un-
doubtedly the honefteft; making thereby
a fair acknowledgement of the vanity of
all the attempts that had been made to ac-
count for thefe fort of appearances, and
the impoffibility of doing it on any data
they had to reafon upon.
The modern pretenders to reafon, who
refolve all into what they call nature, are
nothing fo excufable. Had they been fo
honeft as to have told us what it was they
C 2
meant
20
ÉM. I.
Of HAPPINESS
meant by that name, fome judgement might
have been made concerning it: but then
it would have appeared either pure amuſe-
ment, without any meaning, or that very
conftitution we are inquiring about; which
it would be very abfurd to make the cauſe
of itſelf; unleſs they mean, as fome of
the old philofophers did, that the matter
of the univerſe being eternal, and though
under the management of a plaſtic mind,
a fpirit pervading the whole, and difpo-
fing it to the beft advantage; yet the na-
ture and effence of every thing being e-
ternal and unalterable, he was obliged to
take it as he found it, and make the beſt
of fuch materials: whence they conceived
all the weakneſſes and imperfections in the
univerſe to take their rife, and to conti-
nue without any remedy.
How much more ´eafy and rational is
it, in all refpects, for one formed as
we are, from the vifible appearances
of boundleſs wifdom and power in the
ftructure of the univerfe, and all the
parts of it, and the good affurances we
have of the interpofal of the fame power
on proper occafions, inverting and con-
trolling the eſtabliſhed courſe of nature,
to
and PERFECTION.
21
to believe the tradition which has been in
the world ever fince there were any men to
receive it, that the whole owes its exift-
ence, as well as difpofition, to the immenſe
power and boundleſs wifdom of the firſt
and original being, now acknowledged by
every body who has any pretenfions to
thought or reflection.
It muſt be indeed acknowledged, that
creation out of nothing, or giving being
to what before was not, is as much above
all our natural ideas and conceptions, as it
is beyond the compafs of any power known
to us. Nor is it at all likely, that ever it
would have entered the mind of man, had
it not been diſcovered to them, and the
memory of it continued in the fame man-
ner that other facts are. And, by the e-
vent, it appears, that even then it would have
been totally loft, as in effect it once was
to the far greateſt part of the world, had
it not been from time to time fupported,
and mens minds raiſed to a capacity of
believing it, by an analogous power put
forth as occafion required in the govern-
ment of the world. But when mens minds
are thus prepared, many things caft up
which would have been overlooked; and
almoſt
22
Eff. I.
Of HAPPINESS.
almoſt every thing one meets with, has a
native tendency to eſtabliſh this
fundamental truth.
great and
The natural and neceffary confequence
of this muſt be, an abſolute and entire de-
pendence of all inferior beings on their
great author and creator. It is certainly
no affected way of ſpeaking, but the very
truth of the thing, that every creature is
originally nothing; and a very little at-
tention will fatisfy any one, that the very
beſt of them ſtand but a very few removes
from it; infinitely nearer at leaſt than they
are to perfect being. Whatever meaſures
or degrees of being or powers they have,
is only by the free gift of their maker;
and it is impoffible for them ever to acquire
a property in theſe, otherwiſe than by his
gracious indulgence. When they have
acted up to the higheſt their conftitution
will admit of, they have no pretenfions to
merit; nay not fo much as requiting their
creator for what they have received. It
can never rife higher than bare innocence;
and the leaſt failure muſt be criminal.
As the being of all created things is at
beſt but borrowed, fo it muſt be abfolute-
ly precarious, and the continuance of it
depend
and PERFECTION.
23
depend entirely on him who firſt beſtowed
it. No one moment of their duration has
any neceffary connection with another; as
they were raiſed at first, they muſt be con-
tinually fupported, by almighty power;
which, perhaps, is that very myfterious
thing, fo commonly talked of, but fo lit-
tle underſtood, under the names of being,
life, ſubſtance, &c. And the withdrawing
of this muſt needs leave them in their ori-
ginal ſtate of nothing. Hence, to talk of
the natural immortality of this fort of be-
ings, is really to talk contradictions; un-
lefs they could have life in themfelves, and
become proprietors of their own being and
powers. This would eſtabliſh an indepen-
dency inconfiftent with the very notion of a
creature, and put it in that very ſtate the
Stoics abfurdly imagined their wife man.
They may be indeed affured of their eter-
nal duration another way; but that muſt
be juſt as much the free gift of God as
their first creation was.
The exiſtence then, and duration, of the
moft perfect creatures, being thus in the
hand of God, the exercife of all their
powers, and all the actions arifing from
them, muſt be likewife owing to him; and
to
24
Eff. I.
Of HAPPINESS
to him belongs the honour of all the good
that ever was or will be in the world. But
it muſt be remembered, that they are only
thofe forts of actions which are founded in
the conftitution as he has eſtabliſhed it,
we thus ſpeak of. But if any of them will
abuſe the powers he has intruſted with.
them, not he, but they, muſt anſwer for
the confequences.
From all this it must follow, that as
none of theſe dependent beings have any
thing of their own to value themſelves
upon, much lefs to boaſt of, they can ne-
ver be the object of happineſs to themſelves,
but muſt ſeek it from without; fo that
of all vices ſelf-enjoyment muſt be the moſt
monftrous and unnatural. This is evi-
dently the prerogative of an abfolutely and
independently perfect being; and can no
more be communicated, than that perfec-
tion which alone can fupport it. The hap-
pinefs, as well as being, of every creature, is
in his hand; and by the fame conſtitution ac-
cording to which he has founded the feveral
capacities of his creatures, he has bounti-
fully provided, and fo laid to their hands
their proper fund of enjoyment, that they
can never want an adequate happineſs, if
they
1
and PERFECTION.
25
they live up to the powers which one way
or other he has furniſhed them with.
It is here, then, we are to look for the
true ſtandard of created excellency, viz.
in the extent of their capacity; what ob-
jects their conſtitution admits the enjoy-
ment of; in what manner, and to what
purpoſes, they are taken in; and how they
are improved. And this leads us to take
fome general view of the objects or mate-
rials of creature-happineſs, both in them-
felves, and their proper worth; but efpe-
cially in the relation they bear to the feve-
ral orders of creatures, whofe happineſs
they are defigned to minifter to.
In the firſt view, it is but a forry ac-
count we can make of the feveral objects of
enjoyment; as there are few fall under our
obfervation, and it is but a very fuperfi-
cial knowledge we have of thofe which do.
And yet, as we may be very certain, that
fpirits, or beings poffeffed of active powers,
greatly excel dead inactive matter; and
the great creator, the father of all fpirits,
infinitely exccls all created ones; we may
hence very justly conclude, that thoſe forts of
conftitutions which admit of no pleaſure
but what arifes from the application of
VOL. I.
matter,
D
J
26
Eff. I.
Of HAPPINESS
1
+
matter, are greatly inferior to fuch as are
fitted for the rational pleatures of fociety;
as thofe likewife who are capable of reliſh-
ing nothing above the creature, muft, of
courfe, fall as much fhort of thoſe which
are made to take in the beauty and glory
of the fovereign being, and to find their
pleaſure in the intercourfes of friendſhip
and communion with him, in whom all
fulneſs dwells. There is no doubt a very
great odds among created objects, and the
enjoyment of them; which may make as
many fubdivifions in thofe lower ranks of
beings which live only on the creature;
but we do not chufe to ftand upon them
here.
It is in the feveral relations that the ob-
jects without bear to the creatures whoſe
happineſs and enjoyment they are fubfer-
vient to, that they are moſt properly to be
confidered, as being the moft natural and
intereſting view, where all things appear
evidently made for one another. Whate-
ver they may contribute toward this pur-
pofe, fome more, fome lefs, they all go
under the general defignation of good, and
their contraries evil; and thus naturally
ſtand in certain ranks and claffes.
The
and PERFECTION.
27
K
The firſt, and moſt obvious, are fuch as
contribute to fupport life, and maintain
the borrowed precarious being in a proper
plight for the buſineſs and enjoyments pe-
culiar to the conftitution. This is fami-
liarly known under the animal lif, by the
name of food and nourishment. And with
this ſtand connected fuch things as though
not strictly neceffary for fubfiftence, yet
contribute to the eafe and comforts of life;
fuch, viz. as ward off, or relieve from, pain
and uneaſineſs in body or mind, or what-
ever may mar enjoyment in any degree.
That there must be fomething analogous
to this in the life of fpirits, will eafily be al-
lowed; though the little intercourſe men
have with that fort of beings, except fuch
as ftand connected with animal bodies,
makes moſt men incapable of fo much as
guefling wherein it lies, or what is the
proper fupport and nouriſhment of unem-
bodied fpirits; though we may be fure, int
the general, it must be fomething that
keeps them in the friendſhip and favour of
God; by whofe power they fubfift, and in
whom their whole fund of pleaſure lics.
Next come to be confidered fuch things
as contribute toward the improvement of
D
2
the
28
EM. I.
Of HAPPINESS
1
W
the creature, and raiſing it as high toward
perfection as its particular conftitution will
admit of; and thereby enlarging its capa-
city, fo as it may, with eaſe and pleaſure,
take in the beſt and moſt valuable enjoy-
ments that fall to its fhare. The improve-
ments we hinted at before, which men,
and feveral other animals, are capable of,
and of which we have new inftances before
us every day, abundantly explain the im-
portance of this clafs.
But what has in a manner ingroffed the
title of good, and are by moft men looked
upon as the only fund of happineſs, are
fuch as, by the proper application of them,
adminifter immediate pleaſure, whether it
is of the fenfible or fpiritual kind. And
as pleaſures are juſt of as many different
kinds, as there are different conftitutions,
fpiritual, animal, or mixed and compound-
ed of both, they come to be naturally dif-
tinguiſhed by the feveral fenfes and inlets
of pleaſure in the animal life, and the fe-
veral powers of fpirits,-if there are indeed
any different powers in the fimplicity of
the pure ſpiritual life, or if they are not
rather imagined fuch from the imperfect
models from which we form our conceptions.
of
52%
and PERFECTION.
29
of them; that is, every man, from his own
mind, involved in, and often overpowered
by, the animal fenfations.
Hence the feveral objects, and the im-
portance of them to happineſs, may be
very juſtly determined by the feveral pur-
poſes they anſwer, and what they contri-
bute towards its fubfiftence, improvement,
and actual pleaſure. The firft, without
the laſt, is fo little fatisfying, that many
have chofen to throw away their lives
when diſappointed of the pleaſure they had
in view. Nor is pleaſure fimply of any
account, unleſs it is fuch as becomes the
being which enjoys it. In many caſes it
rather finks, debafes, and deſtroys, than
contributes any thing to true and folid
happineſs. The firſt is the foundation and
ground-work on which the whole fabrick
is built; the ſecond fits and qualifies for
proper enjoyments; and the third furnith-
es out the proper materials, and applies
them to anſwer their ſeveral purpoſes.
By this, then, we may judge what are
the proper objects of happinefs; fuch, viz.
as fuit the conftitution; not one part of it
feparately, which, in compound beings
like ours, may often hurt the more noble;
but
30
Eff. I.
Of HAPPINESS
but the whole taken together, and impro-
ved to the higheſt pitch of perfection it
will admit. What fuits any lower degrees
only, it is evident cannot be the proper
happineſs of that creature.
And hence it will follow, that nothing
can be the proper object of enjoyment,
except what is every way commenſurate
to the capacity and duration of that being
whoſe happineſs is made to conſiſt in it, ſo
as at the fame time to fatisfy all the wants,
cravings, and deſires, the higheſt improve-
ment the conſtitution admits of, and to
continue at leaſt as long as that ſhall ſtand.
If any defires or wants are left unſatisfied,
it embitters all other enjoyments; and if
the object of enjoyment is loft, the mifery
is infupportable.
It appears likewife, that no object, how-
ever otherwiſe qualified, can furniſh out
fuch folid fatisfaction as is required to
conftitute any thing near happineſs, with-
out an entire property in it, and fuch pof-
feffion of it, as one can have free accefs at
all times to the enjoyment of: And as
there is but one object in the univerſe of
beings that can admit multitudes partners,
without diminiſhing either the intereft or
enjoyment
and PERFECTION.
31
*
}
enjoyment of every individual, the happi-
nefs of thoſe forts of beings muſt be very
low and precarious, who, either from the
neceffity of their conftitution, or a very
ill-judged choice, are led to pitch upon a-
ny thing below the favour and friendſhip
of the all-fufficient being. Every creature
we know of, unleſs it is the light of the
heavens, is capable of being ingroffed by
a few; or at leaſt muſt be divided, and
fo parcelled out, as that one fhall want
juſt as much as another poffeffes: and as
they are but ſmall parcels of fublunary
goods that can fall to any one's fhare, the
attainment will fcarce balance the labour
of the purfuit; and the uneafineſs arifing
from his wants, will more than outweigh
what he poffeffes; and thus, by marring
the enjoyment, deftroy his happineſs.
ESSAY II.
Of the Human Conftitution and Capacity, a-
rifing upon the proper improvement of it.
T
O make any thing near a juſt eſtimate
of human happineſs, one muſt be,
in
32
Ef. II.
Of the HUMAN
in the firſt place, furniſhed with the pro-
per knowledge of his capacity and power,
what fort of objects he can take in, and
what advantage he can make by them; or,
which is nearly the fame, what meaſures
of perfection he is limited and confined to
by his frame and conftitution: and there-
fore the firſt ſtep one has to take, who pro-
pofes to do any thing to the purpoſe in
theſe inquiries, muft be, to acquaint him-
felf with the human conftitution, and the
feveral degrees of improvement it may ad-
mit of. That is the firſt part, and the ve-
ry foundation of that knowledge of one's
felf, which has been allowed by the wifeft
maſters the proper bufinefs of mankind;
and without which, it is impoffible to
make any thing of the moſt uſeful know-
ledge, but error and confufion.
There are only two direct ways of at-
taining this neceffary piece of knowledge;
an immediate intuitive perception of every
thing belonging to the conftitution itfelf;
or, where that cannot be had, fuch a nar-
row examination of thoſe qualities and
powers which fall under our obfervation,
as may lead us up to the beſt views we can
attain, of the fprings from which they
flow.
CONSTITUTION, &c.
33
F
flow. The firſt of theſe is ſo much above
our prefent abilities, or at leaft goes fo
ſhort a way, and the other fo laborious,
and requiring fo much accurate obferva-
tion and attention, that few are able to
make
any thing of either. Whence the
bulk of mankind are driven, either to
quit the purfuit, or betake themſelves to a
third; which is commonly reckoned by
philofophers an indirect way, that of au-
thority and teſtimony: and perhaps even
thoſe who value themſelves moft on their
impartial inquiries, are more influenced
by it than they are willing to cwn, or
perhaps themſelves believe. A wife man
will make uſe of all the helps he can call
in; and as the moſt extenſive genius can-
not pretend to take in every particular with
infallible exactneſs, one much below him
may poffibly difcover, and even rectify,
ſome of his miſtakes, without any affront
to his fuperior underſtanding.
There is one thing, I cannot help obfer-
ving, has contributed very much to dif-
courage ordinary people from this uſeful
ſtudy: It is that myfterious air of learning,
and profound fcience, which fpeculative
and fcholaftic writers fcatter over their
perform-
VOL. I.
E
34
EAT. II.
Of the HUMAN
performances on thefe fubjects, as if they
fcorned to fay the moſt common and fa-
miliar things in a way that any but phi-
lofophers fhould underſtand. Certain it
is, that there is not any one thing in the
fubject itſelf, but what falls as directly
under the obfervation of a man of the
plaineſt underſtanding, as of the profound-
eſt philofopher, abating perhaps fome re-
finements, which no man living can ever
comprehend. We propoſe, therefore, as
much as poffible, to avoid every thing that
lies out of the common road; and endeavour
to point out what every man may, by a
little reflection on himſelf, bring to the
only teft of truth, obfervation and expe-
rience; and from thefe attempt to gather
up fuch an account of the human conftitu-
tion, as may fatisfy any plain man where
he is to look for his happineſs.
Man is evidently a compounded being,
made up of a great variety of parts; and
thefe of very different natures, and fuited
to produce very different effects, and ac-
cordingly to anfwer very different purpo-
fes. All theſe have been long reduced to
two general heads; known, or rather
talked of, under the names of body and
foul,
CONSTITUTION, &C.
35
foul, or matter and Spirit. Theſe united,
as they are, in the nearest and cloſeſt
manner, fo as to act on and by one ano-
ther, produce what we call the human
conſtitution; by which man is diſtinguiſh-
ed from all other ranks and orders of be-
ings, both fuch as are above and fuch as are
below him: and in the knowledge of theſe
component parts, and of their mutual de-
pendence on, and fubordination to, one ano-
ther, in their uſes, actings, and operations,
confifts that knowledge of ourſelves we
have in view.
Our obfervations naturally begin at the
outſide of the man, his body, and the
feveral parts of it, united, as they are, in
fuch a manner, that even his outward
form has been thought to carry in it the
marks of his fuperiority over other ani-
mals. However that may be, it is cer-
tainly wrong to talk contemptibly of it, as
it is fuited to anſwer the purpoſes of that
life which he is defigned for, and wherein
his true dignity lies.
But what we can perceive on this fuper-
ficial view, however adorned and fet off,
is no more but the cafe or outward cover
of the man. Thoſe who look farther, dif-
E 2
cover
36
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
cover under them a curious variety of
parts, different in their make and texture,
but all wonderfully adjufted to anſwer
their feveral purpoſes; and fo united into
one machine, that each of them contri-
butes to the fupport and prefervation of the
whole, without the leaft interfering, or
marring the peculiar operations of any of
them.
Theſe are all of them found reduced in-
to three very diftinct fyſtems, for anſwer-
ing fo many diftinct purpoſes in life; the
firſt adjuſted in all points for taking in and
diſtributing proper fupplies, for fupport-
ing and maintaining the feveral parts of
the animal machine in their proper degree
of bulk, ftrength, or whatever other pur-
poſes they have to anfwer, each of them in
their proper place; the fecond, confiſt-
ing of the ſurpriſingly curious, and even
amazing, apparatus of the feveral fenfes,
for giving the proper and neceffary notices
of the things about us, and by which the
feveral impreffions made by external ob-
jects are received and conveyed; and the
third, a combination as curious, of in-
ftruments and organs, by which the man
exerts his active powers.
•
It
CONSTITUTION, &C.
37
*
It is an obvious obfervation, but of great
importance on many accounts, that the o-
perations of the firſt of theſe ſyſtems, that,
viz. which regards the animal œconomy,
is not at all under the man's direction; the
fecond, but very little; whereas the third
is almoſt wholly, if not altogether: and
therefore he is very juſtly reckoned wholly
accountable for thefe laft; and no further
for the other two, than he has, or may
have, a hand in vitiating or improving the
organs or powers concerned in conducting
them.
The ſtructure of the general ſyſtem,
where we find theſe three ſo cloſely united,
ſo as none of them can ſubſiſt or act ſepa-
rately or independently on the other, and
particularly the notices of external things,
for the moſt part neceffarily conveyed by
the fenfes, and their organs, compared
with the apparatus of the executive powers,
very naturally lead us to fome ruling prin-
ciple within, for receiving the one, and
managing the other; and that with fuch
ſtrength of reaſon, that one may venture
to fay, the thing has never been ſeriouſly
queftioned by any one perfon in the
world.
But
38
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
But long before the moſt diligent obfer-
ver can get at this fame inward ruler, the
bodily machinery runs into fuch fubtile
and feemingly intricate mazes, as elude
the eye, with all the affiſtances it can pro-
cure; and thereby leaves room for a varie-
ty of conjectures; from which have ari-
fen thoſe perplexed, and many of them
unintelligible, difputes, concerning mat-
-
ter and ſpirit, their nature, properties,
and powers.
It is not eaſy, nor indeed poffible, for
fuch low beings as we are, to fay, with
any appearance of certainty, how far,
what all are agreed to call matter, may be
refined and fubtilized, what curious fy-
ſtems it may be formed into, and what it
may be made capable of, when under the
management of boundleſs power. Our ir-
remediable ignorance of the nature of what
we call being and life, the internal eſſence
and very ſubſtance of matter, makes us
utterly incapable of forming any certain
judgement concerning it, or the precife
difference between it and what we call
Spirit; neither have we any way of form-
ing any notion of it, but by the proper-
ties and powers of thofe forts of beings
which
CONSTITUTION, &C.
39
which fall under our obfervation.
And
among theſe we are neceffarily led to con-
clude, that fome are altogether inert and
inactive, incapable of putting either them-
felves, or any thing elfe, into motion, any
further than they are impelled and driven
on by fomething elfe. Others, again, we
are in the fame manner led to conceive of,
as poffeffed of fome principle of activity,
which, though we cannot give a diſtinct
account of, yet we give it the name of
power too; a thing very eaſy to apprehend,
as it lies in nature; but when run up into
its latent caufes, which lie quite out of
reach, altogether unintelligible. The firft
of theſe we call matter, and the other Spi-
rit.
all
This has been the prevailing notion in
ages, and the characteriſtic made ufe
of to this day, among the men who are
not accuſtomed to philofophical reafonings,
as they have been practifed in theſe latter
ages. Whatever either really was, or was
imagined to be, the fpring and principle
of motion of any kind, life, action, vege-
tation, or any alteration whatfoever, ei-
ther in earthly or celeftial bodies, was a-
fcribed to what they called Spirit. Hence
arofe
40
Of the HUMAN
Ef. II.
arofe the notion fo univerfally entertained,
not only of a ſpirit pervading the whole,
and managing the whole machinery of the
univerſe; but of certain inferior ones, whoſe
province it was to take care of every part.
All the writings, both of their philofo-
phers and poets, are full of inſtances. Nor
did it ever enter into their heads, that thoſe
inviſible ſprings of life and motion were of
a nature ſo oppoſite to what they knew to
be purely paffive, as not to occupy space,
nor to have any amplitude or expanſion be-
longing to their effence. So far from it,
that in all languages, we find the appella-
tion of ſpirit given, as it is to this day, to
many things which are ſenſibly material;
the wind, the breath of animals, and o-
thers, which though not fo fenfibly fo, yet
are univerfally allowed to be matter in the
ftricteft fenfe.
The great refinements of the moderns,
and accurate diſtinguiſhing between pro-
per fpirit and the moſt ſubtilized matter,
have not perhaps more advanced human
knowledge, than the metaphyſical quirks
and fubtilties it has been attended with,
have embarraffed mens minds, and by
putting them to form abſtract conceptions,
of,
CONSTITUTION, &c.
41
or, as they will have them called, ideas, of
pure ſpirit, above the utmoſt ſtretch of hu-
man powers, the true, eafy, and diſtin-
guiſhing notion of a fpirit, is not attend-
ed to; and while they reach at what they
can never attain, they lofe what might
have fully anſwered their purpoſe. As it
is impoffible, even by the moft hypermeta-
phyfical abftraction, to feparate the idea
of any being whatſoever from fome rela-
tion to ſpace, and confequently fome kind
of extenſion or amplitude; fo long as theſe
are made the effential properties of dead
inactive matter, and appropriated to it on-
ly, men may amufe, but will never be
able to fatisfy, either themſelves or others,
of the being of any thing elſe. The man
who can be content to be thought igno-
rant of what no man can poffibly know,
the very effence, or even the inward frame
and conſtitution of things, may well fatis-
fy himſelf with that obvious difference;
which, as it lies open to all, in fo many
familiar inftances, can be eafily apprehend-
ed, and fully anfwers all the purpofes of
the human life, in its higheſt improvement,
and utmoſt extent: Every body, the plain-
eft labourer, is thoroughly fatisfied of the
difference
VOL. I.
F
42
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
difference there is between thoſe forts of
beings which are endued with life and
activity, and fenfelefs inactive matter;
and will readily own, there is as great an
odds in their worth and excellency. And
what can the acuteft philofopher do more,
after all his troublefome fpeculations and
conclufions?
There are only two forts of active powers
known to us, viz. thoſe which produce
thought and motion; if indeed theſe are
two different powers, or rather if the laſt is
not more properly the effect of the other,
as there are more than probable reaſons
to perfuade us it is. We know that par-
cels of grofs matter may, even by fuch
low meaſures of fkill and contrivance as
man can attain, be fo put together, as
fhall form a machine, which fhall not need
the maker's hand fo much as to put it in
motion, far leſs to continue it. Neither
does any body doubt, that the bodies of
plants and animals eſpecially are fuch,
though formed with a contrivance as much
fuperior to man's, as their maker is wifer
and more ſkilful than he; to ſay nothing
of the truly ftupendous mechanifin of the
heavens, by which all in this our world,
and,
CONSTITUTION, &c.
43
and, we have good reaſon to believe, e-
very where elſe through the univerfe, is
managed. But had it not been for the
thought and contrivance of the great arti-
ficer, none of thefe, neither the great nor
fmaller machines, could have fubfifted;
and the whole matter of them fhould have
continued in the fame condition in which
we find many of them, when their conftitu-
tion is diffolved, and mouldered down into
as inactive matter as any in the univerſe.
As it is certainly very hard, or rather ut-
terly impoffible, for man to diſtinguiſh
where thought and motion are united, and
where motion fubfiſts alone, with any de-
gree of certainty, there is the utmoſt dan-
ger of miſtaking, if that can be called
danger which concerns our happineſs fo
little. Until experience and obſervation
convince us of the contrary, we are apt to
imagine fomething of life like our own,
where-ever we difcern motion, without
perceiving the impulfes and impreffions
which occafion it. This made many of
the ancients, who were no more fools than
we, to imagine, that the fun and moon,
with the other heavenly bodies, were ani-
mated beings; and to find, in every foun-
F 2
tain,
44
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
I
tain, ftream, and fhady grove, fome
ſpirit poffeffed of certain unknown powers,
which filled them with a fuperftitious kind
of veneration toward the moſt infenfible
objects.
Whether the brute part of the animal
world is poffeffed of any properly active
principle, fuch as we call Spirit, and the
power of thinking; or if all the motions and
effects which to us feem only producible
by ſuch a cauſe, are really owing only to
the proper organization of fuitable kinds
of matter, fo formed as to produce them
all by the different impreffions made upon
them by the objects they are encompaſſed
with,-feems impoffible to determine with
any thing like certainty in our prefent
ftate nor would it ever have been worth
any one's while to have made the inquiry,
had it not been for the confequences that
have been tacked to the decifion on either
fide, very nearly affecting the fubject we
have under confideration. If brutes are
concluded to be poffeffed of an active prin-
ciple, or proper fpirit; whatever argument
concludes for the immortality of one, muſt
hold of both; or rather, as it is univer-
fally concluded, that the fouls of brutes
ረ
periſh
CONSTITUTION, ¿T.
45
periſh with their bodies, it is pretended a
juſt conclufion, that the fouls of men
fhould do fo likewife. On the other hand,
if brute animals are mere machines, and
all thoſe things we call their actions, fo fi-
milar to the human ones, are no more but
the effects of mere matter, one part impel-
ling another, there can be no reafon af-
figned, why a finer organization may not
account for all thoſe we call actions in
men; whence it will be inferred, with great
appearance of reafon, that the whole bufi-
nefs of the moral, as well as material world,
is carried on in the fame neceſſary courſe;
that it is impoffible any thing can be o-
therwiſe than it comes out to be. Which
would put an end at once to the whole of
our inquiry after happineſs: The whole
of what is called improvement and perfec-
tion muſt be vain and whimſical; and,
upon the whole, every man must take his
fate what he is to be and do.
But however fuperficial men may pleaſe
themſelves with theſe, which it is likely e-
nough they will reckon very ſmart turns,
there will no manner of hurt be done by
them, whichfoever fide of the queſtion
one chufes to take, unleſs they are allowed
to
46
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
to affume fome yet more groundleſs pofi-
tion. It will indeed, I think, be acknow-
ledged by every fair reafoner, that the firſt
fuppofition, viz. that brutes have a true
and proper fpirit in them, will effectually
deſtroy the main argument for the natural
immortality of the human foul, taken from
the ſpirituality or immaterial nature of its
conftitution; unleſs any one will venture
the abfurdity of allowing the fouls of
brutes the fame privilege. But it will by
no means follow, that the great proprietor
of being ſhould indulge one order of ſpi-
rits with the gift of immortality, while o-
thers, not only of an inferior, but even of
the fame, nay, and of a fuperior kind, are
left to periſh. And, on the other hand,
though all the appearance of action in
brutes fhould be refolved into mere mate-
rial mechaniſm, it will follow indeed, that
all the fimilar effects in man may be ac-
counted for in the fame manner; but, at
the fame time, if men will put themſelves
into proper circumftances for obſerving it,
it will be found, that there are fuch vifi-
ble and undeniable evidences of proper ac-
tivity in what we call the human mind, and
fo much above what there are any veftiges
of
CONSTITUTION, &C.
47
of in brutes, that there is no manner of
foundation for the pretended conclufions.
I faid, if men will put themſelves into
proper circumſtances for obfervation; be-
cauſe, it is very poffible, fome may live in
fuch a manner, that there ſhall not be
found any thing about them which can
reaſonably infer any fuperiority above their
fellow-animals of the brutal tribe; and
both, perhaps, as mechanically as the cab-
bages grow in their gardens.
As there is, without queftion, a very
great fimilarity between what we call the
external actions, and even the internal
frame and bodily conftitution, in both, the
fame kind of organs producing the fame
fenfible effects; fo there is not any one of
theſe which may not, with great appear-
ance of reafon, be refolved into that pecu-
liar kind of mechanifm which we call the
animal frame or fabrick, common to both
men and beafts. And as this makes one
great part of the human conftitution, we
cannot propofe to make out any tolerable
view of it, without confidering theſe ſome-
what particularly.
To begin then where nature feems to
do, with that part of the general fyftem
which
48
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
which ferves to take in and diftribute the
proper nouriſhment to the feveral parts of
the body: We find every organ exactly fi-
milar, unleſs, perhaps, in the fineneſs or
coarſeneſs, ſtrength or weakneſs, or o-
ther fuch, adapted as they are to the feve-
ral forts of food on which they appear de-
figned to fubfift: and no body doubts that
the human body is maintained in its
ſtrength and vigour, and carried on to its
proper bulk and ftature, preciſely in the
fame manner that thoſe of other animals
are; which the active principle in man
has no more power either to hinder or for-
ward, than if there was none at all there
unleſs by with-holding the proper nou-
rifhment, or employing in thought and
reflection fome of thofe parts which fhould
have been aſſiſting in digeſting, or other-
wiſe diſtributing the aliment: yet it never
was pretended, that the effects of this fy-
ftem were any other than purely mechani-
cal.
Our obfervations, it is true, can go but
a fhort way in the other two particular fy-
ſtems; extending only to fome few of the
more grofs and external parts, while the
fprings, or whatever it is that immediately
plays
CONSTITUTION, &c.
49
plays the bodily machinery, are quite a
fecret to us. But fo far as we do obferve,
the feveral organs, and component parts,
bating the above-mentioned circumflantial
differences, are pretty near alike in all
perfect animals, at leaſt of the fame kind;
which gives more than a prefumption, that
what lies inward, the more fubtile, and,
as we are apt to deem them fpirituous parts,
are fo likewife.
And here it is allowed by every body,
that even man, with all the advantages he
has about him, in the firft impreffions and
impulfes which are made on the external
organs of fenfe, is altogether paffive; and
that indeed the whole is no more, through
all the variety of the ſeveral ſenſations, as
we call them, than one parcel or fyftem of
matter moving another. It is evidently fo
in thoſe paintings which light, ftriking up-
on the eye, makes of thofe objects which lie
within its compafs. The vibrations and
little bounces of the air againſt the ear,
varied into an almoft infinite variety of
founds; the little particles ftriking on the
fine fibres or ramifications of the appro-
priated nerves in tafte and fmell, however
fmall and fubtile, are ftill confeffedly ma-
VOL. I.
terial;
G
50
Eſ. II.
Of the HUMAN
name.
terial; much more thoſe coarſer feelings,
excited by groffer matter in the collection
of fenfations which go under that general
And however the pleaſures and
pains occafioned by external objects may
be, as they certainly are in rational beings,
mixed with the actings of a higher princi-
ple; yet the rife and original of them is
no more than one part of matter impelling
and moving another, according to their
feveral natures and conftitutions, in as
neceſſary and mechanical a way as a clock
ftrikes, or one ball drives another.
If we look further into the effects which
the feveral impulfes thus made on the fe-
veral appropriated parts of the animal fy-
ſtem, if not regulated by fome active
mind, naturally produce there, and the
manner in which the executive ſyſtem is
influenced and fet agoing by them, ac-
cording to their different impreffions, we
will find very ſtrong prefumptions, if not
full evidence, that the whole is carried on
by a certain fubtile, and therefore to us
inexplicable, mechaniſm in man himſelf,
as well as other animals. Certain it is,
that the inſtruments and organs of both
fyſtems, not only take their rife together,
→
but
CONSTITUTION, &c.
5 I
but are fo very cloſely connected in the ge-
neral fyftem, that one cannot be any how
moved without affecting the other. And
could we carry our views further, into the
more fubtile and fine parts, it is hardly
to be doubted, the connection would be
found yet nearer and more immediate.
It is further to be obferved, and will
not be refuſed by any one who has at
all confidered the rife and fprings of human
actions, that what we call the paffions and
affections, are the immediate movers in all
thofe, without exception, which are perform-
ed by the body; and that they have more
influence on the mind itſelf, than any one
can imagine who has not carefully obfer-
ved it. Whether theſe are different names
only, or exprefs things really different; when
they are not under the command of the ac-
tive ruling principle, they certainly com-
mand the whole man: and cannot fo pro-
perly be faid to determine, as to make or
create what we call the will; and accor-
dingly employ every power and organ.
It is not for nothing that theſe bear the
name of paffions and affections, as they
are produced by the feveral impreflions
and impulfes on the material parts of the
conflitution,
G 2
700
52
Eff. II,
Of the HUMAN
conſtitution, at leaſt as naturally and ne-
ceffarily as could be done by the moſt e-
ftabliſhed laws of motion and mechanifm.
This is moft difcernible in children and
wild men; even more than in the tame
fort of beaſts; where, by human ſkill, the
paffions are brought under fome fuch re-
ſtraint as they are among civilized men,
But in all wild animals whatſoever, the
ſenſation makes its correſpondent affection
or paffion with as much certainty and u-
niformity, as the impreffion produces the
ſenſation itſelf. And if it is further con-
fidered, how, even in the moſt civilized
part of mankind, on fudden ſurpriſes, paf-
fions are raiſed, which the greateſt ſtrength
of mind cannot refrain, that hurry the beſt
reafoner into a courſe of action which oc-
cafions the quickeſt and moſt laſting re-
morſe, it cannot be doubted, that they
are more owing to the ftrength of the ani-
mal mechaniſm than to any other caufe
whatſoever.
If we add further, what, on a very ſmall
degree of reflection, every one muft feel in
himſelf, that every affection and paffion is
always attended with certain peculiar move-
ments of the fluid and more fubtile parts
of
CONSTITUTION, &c.
53
of the fyftem, appropriated to each of them,
and producing very fenfible alterations in
the body itſelf, we may difcover much of
the true cauſe of the ftrength and impetu-
ofity of our paffions; and find reaſon to
conclude, that what we call their attend-
ant is really their caufe. This is much
more obfervable in fome of them than in o-
thers; but there are none, even the loweſt
degrees of affection, the moſt refined of
them, which will not, on due inquiry,
be found to owe a great part of their
frength, and their very being, to fome
particular movements of the animal fyſtem.
Anger and fear are among the moſt re-
markable, and which mutually deftroy one
another. On many occafions, it is evi-
dent, they are no more under the direction
of the mind, than the animal digeftion,
or the circulation of the fluids in his body
are. Shame and felf-approbation have
as fenfible feelings, though of another
kind, always attending them. Nay, love
and hatred, the radical and leading affec-
tions, down to the loweſt inclinations and
averfions, have fo evidently their roots
deeply ſpread in the animal mechaniſm,
that the heart, about the feat of which
thefe
54
-Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
theſe paffionate feelings are moſt difcern-
ible, is in all languages put for their very
feat; and to love or hate with all one's
heart, to be heartily angry or pleafed, &c.
is the ſtrongeſt and moſt ufual expreffion
of the highest degree of them.
And from this may be gathered a fur-
ther illuftration of what we were obſer-
ving, of the paffions and affections being
the immediate fprings of human actions.
Whatever it is that is meant by the heart
in theſe cafes, that is univerfally allowed
to be fo; and whenever it comes to be un-
derſtood, will be found to be no other
than that very modification of the animal
fyftem we were ſpeaking of; that is, the
machinery, fo fet and wound up, as it
were, to the pitch proper for producing
fuch a ſeries of actions. Whether this is
done by external impreffions, or the in-
ward agency of the active mind, makes no
odds in the prefent cafe; but until the fy-
ſtem is thus formed, the mind, with the
utmoſt efforts of the rational powers, may
indeed produce faint velleities, or ineffectual
wiſhes; but until the heart is engaged,
į. e. the animal mechaniſm right ſet for
the
CONSTITUTION, &c.
55
the purpoſe, no permanent courſe of ac-
tion does, or can follow.
I will not ſtand to obferve particularly
how this muſt be the meaning of that fo
very common expreffion. It is fufficient to
evince it, that all the conftructions that were,
or indeed can be, made of its meaning, ne-
ceffarily run into this: The heart is the
principal part of the machine, at leaſt by
which the whole is maintained in its pro-
per plight for action. Hence it may be
constructed to fignify, the moſt inward,
the moſt effective part, and thence the
whole man without any reſerve; which
cannot be without the immediate powers,
whether principal, or only inftrumental,
which muſt produce the effect in view.
The fame dependence of human actions
on the difpofition of the animal mecha-
niſm, appears with yet further evidence,
by the effects of intoxicating liquors and
drugs, of the bodily conſtitution in idiots
and madmen, of difeafes producing deli-
riums and dofings, &c. It is evident,
theſe can operate no otherwife than me-
chanically; and yet it is as evident, how
thoroughly they command the executive
powers
56
EAT. II.
Of the HUMAN
powers in the unhappy perfons who are
under their influence.
The great influence which cuſtom and
habit has on the conduct of life, leads
ftrongly to the fame conclufion; how men
fall into them many times infenfibly, and
without any defign, by repeated acts, as
occafion offers; how eafily they go on in
the fame courſe; how uneafy when re-
ftrained; carried often fo far, as to bring
a fenfible diftrefs on the body; and how
hard to be overcome and eradicated, even
where one is thoroughly perfuaded of their
pernicious tendency, and, upon the whole,
impoffible, until contrary habits are indu-
ced by a contrary courfe of action. Whence
can all this proceed, and much more to the
fame purpoſe, but from this, that the ſecret
fprings of the machine are formed into
fuch a courſe, as to go fo eafily and na-
turally there, that they cannot, without
a fort of violence, be determined another
way? The inftincts of animals, as they
are called, by their invariable courſe,
plainly lead to the fame caufe: Which will
likewife account for fuch as, approaching
fo near fome of the moft noble human
powers, has induced many to imagine,
they
CONSTITUTION, &C.
57
they were poffeffed, not only of fome in-
ferior degrees of activity, but even judge-
ment and reaſon: A conceit not a jot bet-
ter founded, than what we ufe to laugh
at in children, who imagine every thing
feels juft as they do.
Could we reach the mystery of that ve-
ry common, and yet most aftonishing
thing, called fleep, fo natural and neceffa-
ry to every animal, we might be able to
fay fomething further on this fubject; how
all the powers of the mind, as well as bo-
dy, languiſh, until recruited with that
reſt, which nature, or, to fay more juſtly,
the great author of it, has prepared; how
all the labouring powers gradually languiſh
away into an abfolute reſt, except fuch as
muſt be kept conftantly going for prefer-
ving the conftitution; the unconnected i-
mages which moftly prefent themſelves in
dreams, occafioned, as would feem, by
fome half-felt impulfes, or the impreffions
made by former ones; the lively vigour
healthy perfons feel after a found fleep.
What fhall we ſay? Is the immaterial fpi-
rit wearied ont? or can it not act without
the material machinery of the body? In
either cafe, it is evident, mechanifin muft
VOL.I.
bear
H
58
EMIL
Of the HUMAN
bear a very great fway in our conftitu-
tion.
But whether the animal foul, the prin-
ciple of what we call life and action, in
brutes, be the mere refult of this mecha-
niſm, or fomething poffeffed of a ſuitable
degree of activity; it may not be refuſed,
that man is poſſeſſed of it; and whatever
he is morc, he certainly is a perfect ani-
mal; which yet he cannot be without the
effential parts. Nor may it be imagined,
that the want of it is fupplied by a more
noble principle, the rational ſpirit, in man.
For however plaufible this may appear on
a curfory view; yet, as it is affumed with-
out any foundation; ſo that rational mind
being a principle of quite another nature,
can never anſwer the purpoſes of the o-
ther, nor produce the effects peculiar to it,
which every one does or may feel eve-
ry day, by any other way than acting up-
on and by it, fo as a man may become
perfect maſter of his own actions. As this
appears to have been the conftant and fix-
ed principle of the men of the firft ages,
and the belief of the firft Chriftians, evi-
dently fuppofed by the Apoſtle Paul in all
his writings, and exprefsly mentioned in
fome
CONSTITUTION, &C.
59
ſome of them; ſo it is notoriouſly known to
have been exprefsly acknowledged by all,
or at leaſt the moſt eminent of, the Gen-
tile philofophers; and by which they en-
deavoured to account for thoſe palpable
contradictions fo obvious in the human
conftitution.
But at the fame time that man is allow-
ed the poffeffion of every thing neceffary
for the management of the animal mecha-
niſm in his conftitution, if he had not
more, it muſt be granted, that if he is not
among the loweſt fpecies, yet being, as he
naturally is, the worst provided againſt
the accidents of life, he muſt be the moſt
miſerable of them all. For, to fay nothing
of the advantages many of the brutal tribe
have, by their fuperior ftrength of body,
acuteneſs of ſenſe, agility, and fuch other
qualities, hardly any of them are known
to want a fort of conftitutional fagacity,
which we call inftinct; by which they are
unerringly determined, both to their pro-
per food and way of living, and all the
ends of life; fuch as they appear to have
been defigned for by the author of their con-
ftitution: whereas man, born as he is, muſt
be in the moſt deplorably helplefs circum-
ftances,
H 2
60
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
ftances, and incapable of chufing for him-
felf; without any means of knowing what
is good or bad for him, until he acquires
it by experience and obfervation; and a
hundred to one if he did not deſtroy him-
felf by his heedlefsnefs, ere he had obfer-
ved enough to warn him againſt the moſt
obvious evils. Thefe, and fuch other
confiderations, furniſh a ſtrong prefump-
tion, that there must be fomething in his
conftitution to compenfate the manifold
difadvantages he labours under, and ba-
lance the numerous dangers he is cxpofed
to.
But there is no occafion for having re-
courſe to prefumptions and probabilities,
when every man has in himſelf a full proof,
and fuch as comes neareſt intuitive evi-
dence, that man is poffeffed of an activity
in the moſt proper fenfe, fuch as no me-
chanifm whatſoever can approach to, and
effectually diftinguiſhes him from the
moft perfect and moft improved mere ani-
mal. This
This goes under the name of the
human mind or Spirit; and is likewiſe called
the human foul, in contradiftinction to the
animal, as it either is, or ought to be, the
fpring of human actions; and is indeed the
only
CONSTITUTION, &C.
61
only thing that can diſtinguiſh them from
thoſe of brutes. It is true, indeed, this
fame fpiritual or active part of the human
frame, cannot be brought under the no-
tice of any of our fenfes: but this is no
more a prejudice againſt the reality of its
being, than the fubtilty of the far greateſt
part of the matter of the univerfe is. Nei-
ther can the moſt penetrating philoſopher,
or improved genius, ever reach a direct view
of its fubftance or effence: but in this re-
ſpect likewiſe it is no more inconceivable
than the groffeft matter. The moſt that can
be made, even of fuch things as fall moſt
fully under our obfervation, is fome cir-
cumſtances with which we find them con-
ſtantly attended; whence we gather up
fuch of them as are the moſt confiderable,
and call them eſſential properties. And fure
we may fay very poſitively, that there is
no being whatſoever we have fuch oppor-
tunities of being thoroughly acquainted
with, if we will but attend to thofe opera-
tions and actings of the mind, which are,
beyond comparifon, more intimately near
us, than fuch as are only under our eye.
We are, or may be, confcious of every
movement or tendency toward action, its
ftrength
1
62
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
ftrength and weaknefs, of every property and
every power belonging to it, in a more
certain manner, than we can pretend to
know any other being whatſoever, not ex-
cepting our own bodies.
That confcioufnefs the mind of man
neceffarily has of its own being, its ac-
tions and powers, with whatever impref-
fions or impulfes are made on every part
of the body, is the firſt view that natural-
ly cafts up to us, when we turn our ob-
fervations this way. Whether this is any
peculiar action of the mind, or rather the
natural concomitant of all its actions; as
it makes the proprietor inexcufable if he
does not make the proper advantage of it,
fo it leads us even fingly into ſuch concep-
tions of its nature, as fets it quite above
every the moft fubtile mechanical power,
and even the moſt perfect animals; and
gives fuch a tincture of thought and re-
flection, even to fuch fenfations as the
mind is purely paffive in, as makes the
effects of the animal machinery frequently
pafs for thought and reafon, and charges
the mind with what it has no further con-
cern with, than barely being aware that
they are adoing; and by this means makes
it
CONSTITUTION, &c.
63
it very hard to diſtinguiſh between the ef-
fects of the active and merely paffive parts
of our conftitution; and perhaps quite
impoffible to do it with any exactnefs and
certainty, fo as to fay precifely, where the
mechaniſm ends, and proper fpiritual acti-
vity begins. Both however become very
evident in their further removes.
To begin with that which is the loweſt
degree of activity, fimple perception, or ap-
prehenfion of the objects about us, or ra-
ther of the impreffions they make on the
animal fyftem, which is the only way
they can be perceived by creatures of our
conftitution; not as if we were to ima-
gine this ever fubfifts alone, without fome
reflection or judgement given concerning
it, unleſs perhaps in very early infancy;
but becauſe no judgement can be given on
any thing until it is perceived, nor any
diftinct well founded one, until it is per-
ceived clearly and diftinctly: They are very
juſtly conceived as different actings and o-
perations as they are called; and as there
are as many different perceptions as the
material organs can be differently affected
by the objects about us, fo, when the or-
gans of ſenſe are any how difqualified or
difproportioned
64
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
difproportioned to the objects about us,
however near they may be, there can be no
perception at all. The fame thing hap-
pens where the impreffions are too weak
and faint, which begets only a confufed
apprehenfion of fomething which they can-
not diftinctly perceive. Thus it happens
in all thoſe cafes where the objects are ei-
ther too minute and fubtile, or at too great
a diftance, &c.
All theſe perceptions would vaniſh with
the object, except perhaps fo far as it in-
fluenced the animal mechanifin, fo as it
fhould take the fame turn whenever the
fame, or a fimilar object, was perceived;
but during the intervals they would be of
no uſe, and the prefent perceptions would
ingrofs the whole of our attention, were it
not for that power which is called the memory,
where the ſeveral perceptions are regiſter-
ed, and, as it were, kept in record. How
this is done, and what part of it belongs
to the mind, what to the body, men have
attempted to guefs; but as they know no-
thing of that part of the bodily machine
concerned in it, they are not worth mind-
ing; nor would it be of any uſe to us if
we did, any more than to know how the
grofs
CONSTITUTION, &C.
65
grofs aliment is converted into proper nou-
rifhment. In both cafes, the thing is done
without, juft as well as if we had, an in-
tuitive knowledge of every movement. Ex-
perience and obfervation may lead us to all
that lies in our power; and any thing fur-
ther would trouble inftead of fatisfying.
Theſe perceptions thus recorded in the
memory, are what learned men call ideas,
and the old philofophers fpecies; both much
of the fame import, and taken from thoſe
paintings which light makes on the eye by
external objects, and thence improperly
applied to the impreffions which are made
by them on the other organs, and by which
they are diftinguished from one another.
Much has been written about the nature,
origin, and feat of them, to very little
purpofe; and, I am afraid, will be found
to have more perplexed and embarraffed,
than promoted true and uſeful know-
ledge. The whole myſtery of them may,
eafily, and without any trouble, be re-
folved into this fimple natural view of the
thing, that men can know nothing about
any thing without them, but what they
have fome how or other perceived, and re-
member to have done; nor any further
VOL. I.
I
than
66
ESIL
Of the HUMAN
than their conceptions were, and are re-
membered to be, clear, adequate, and
diftinct. Hence theſe perceptions, of
whatever kind they are, muſt be the ma-
terials of all knowledge. Neither is it
more poffible to make new ideas, than it
is to remember what one never had any
perception of; or to amend them, but
by trying to make our perception more
perfect. Were every queftion kept to this
fimple point, it might be hoped an end
might be put to that chicane and intricacy
which has over run all ſcience; though,
it is true, it would bring philoſophy
and ſcience almoft quite down to common
ſenſe, and ſet the profeffors of it more up-
on a level with the vulgar. But to re-
turn :
We obferved before, that the moſt fim-
ple perceptions never ftand alone in the
human mind, being, befides that con-
ſciouſneſs which attends every action, al-
ways accompanied with fome reflection or
judgement upon it, which cannot be done
without comparing them with fomething
or other. The firſt and moſt natural is,
their relation to, and the effect they have,
on the conftitution, eſpecially as they are
attended
1
CONSTITUTION, &C.
67
attended with pleaſure or pain, and may
be extended to all the confequences of thefe;
and, if they are confiderable enough, are
regiſtered in the memory, with their pro-
per marks and characters of good or evil;
and the like confequences are concluded
to attend them, whenever they are applied
in the fame manner.
But the mind does not ftop here, but
goes on to compare both the fenfation,
and what has occafioned it, with all other
things it remembers to have perceived. I
fay, with all other things: for it is not the
ideas and fpecies, or whatever one pleaſes
to call that remembrance they have of
what they have formerly perceived, but
the things themſelves, as they have appear-
ed, or now do, to them, by their fenfible
qualities, or by whatever other obfervations
have been made of their latent powers,
that the mind thus compares, and gives
judgement upon. It is indeed but by the
appearances of things we judge: but by
thefe we judge of the things themfelves,
and form thoſe conceptions of their na-
ture and powers, that is, of the effects or
confequences they produce, either as they
ſtand in nature, or are applied by art, and
I 2
the
68
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
$2
the whole of their relations one to another,
in which all our knowledge of them lies,
and by which we are informed how to uſe
them ſo as to make our advantage of them
in every particular cafe.
As there are many things either too fub-
tile or remote to fall directly under our ob-
fervation, which yet we may be
very near-
ly concerned in, and their effects very ob-
vious; in like manner, there are many
things fo fituated, that we cannot compare
them immediately and directly, fo as to
form any correct and immediate judge-
ment concerning them. This gives oc-
cafion to another inſtance of the mind's
activity, called reafoning, the diſtinguiſh-
ing character of the human ſpecies; where-
by the ſeveral circumftances are adjuſted
by fimilar ones in other caſes; ſo that
by comparing one thing with another,
fuch as are unknown with fuch as we
diftinctly perceive, we come at laft to
form fome fuitable conceptions of what o-
therwife could never have fallen under our
obfervation. It is evident, however, that
at the fame time that this is one of the
higheſt inftances of the mind's activity and
excellence, it is no lefs an inftance of the
imperfection of our conftitution; as we
Bould
CONSTITUTION, &C.
69
fhould have had no occafion for it, could
we have brought every thing we want to
know directly under our obfervation.
Upon thefe is founded a further inſtance
of the mind's activity and penetration, in
claffing the numerous huddle of objects,
as they were perceived at different times
and occafions, as they appear to agree and
differ in their properties, powers, or qua-
lities, of whatſoever kind, either in their
outward ſhape or known effects; and af-
figning every tribe its proper characteriſtic
and mark, by which all the individuals
belonging to that rank or clafs may be dif-
tinguiſhed from thoſe of another. Hence
general names, and what they call abstract
ideas; concerning the nature and forma-
tion of which, ftrange things have been
faid, and a fort of powers attributed to
the mind, of doing what none of mankind
could do, or fo much as conceive poffible
to be done; whereas, we are fure, the
thing itſelf can be done as readily by the
meanest peafant as by the profoundeſt phi-
lofopher.
In all theſe, and fuch other inftances,
wherein the raind works only on material
objects, and the feelings raiſed by the mi-
niftry
70
EM. II.
Of the HUMAN
niſtry of the fenfes, there is only a diſplay
of ſome lower kind of powers, and foun-
dation laid for more noble as well as more
profitable employment. We obferved be-
fore, that there was fomething of con-
ſciouſneſs attending every impreſſion made
by outward objects, where yet the mind
was as paffive as the body itſelf. This is
much more evident in the workings of the
mind on the perceptions of theſe, and the
feveral objects which occafioned them; and
affords a direct and intuitive knowledge of
the whole of the procedure to every man
who has patience and attention enough to
obferve it. There the mind becomes her
own object; and, by the intuitive con-
ſciouſneſs ſhe has of her actings and ope-
rations, fhe comes to know, or rather feel,
her own being, and thoſe perfections and
powers fhe is poffeffed of.
Theſe are the objects which commonly
go under the name of ideas from reflection,
to diſtinguiſh them from thoſe which cer-
tainly take their rife from the fenſes;
which, without all queſtion, they are as
different from, as the mind is from the
body. And fo far, indeed, they may go
under the fame name, as the remembrance
may,
CONSTITUTION, &c.
71
may, and ſhould, be more diſtinct of what
paffes in the mind. But when it is confi-
dered, that the perceptions the mind has
of her own operations and actings, are not
raiſed by the mediation of any, either ex-
ternal or internal, bodily organs, but the
things themſelves are directly and imme-
diately the object, it is evident there can be
no fuch thing as ideas or repreſentations of
them; and indeed thefe actings being always
at command to call up when one pleaſes,
there can be no occafion for any thing to
fupply their place: it muſt therefore be very
wrong and inaccurate, to jumble them, by a
common name, into the fame claſs with
things of fo different a nature. It is true, in-
deed, that the mind, however pure and per-
fect a ſpirit it may be fuppofed, yet in all its
operations acts not only in but by the bo-
dy: its pureſt actings are always attended
with certain corporeal motions, which pro-
duce feelings equally fenfible as internal
ones are; and which will be regiſtered and
recorded in the memory along with the
mental actings they are connected with.
But here they are only attendants; while
in the other they are the principal, or ra-
ther ſtand alone; until, from thefe, and
the
72
Ef. II.
Of the HUMAN
the mind's improvement and management
of them, we form the complex notion of
thinking in general, with all its different
modifications, perceiving, judging, reafon-
ing, willing, &c.
This leads us to confider another power
of the mind, the native iffue of that im-
provement we juſt now mentioned, of her
perceptions of external objects. By compa-
ring one thing with another, and all toge-
ther with herſelf, the impreffions made on
the feveral fenfes are tried and adjuſted, the.
meaſures of pleaſure or pain balanced, and
hence judgement is given concerning the
true worth and value of the objects with-
out us; by which new motions are raiſed
in the animal fyftem, new paffions and af-
fections excited, many times directly con-
trary to thoſe occafioned by the firſt im-
preffions; and by which the active mind
affumes the command of the whole man,
and attempts at leaſt to make the man ma-
fter of his own actions; unleſs he chufes
rather to continue a flave to blind paffion
and affection, and thus to live at random,
driven, like his fellow-brutes, by every
impreffion that happens to be made on the
material fyftem.
That
CONSTITUTION, &c.
73
That there is fuch a power in man to
control the native iffues of external im-
preffions, to fufpend and regulate the
blind courfe of the paffions, and even to
raiſe and manage contrary ones, ſo as to
command the whole animal fyſtem, muft
be allowed by all who are not willing to
have man degraded into fomething even
below the moſt part of animals; and great-
ly more miferable than any of them;
both as he is much worfe provided, having
hardly any of thoſe ſalutary inſtincts which
we find inlaid in the very conftitution of
moſt of them; and efpecially, that they
are not at all expoſed to thoſe keen remor-
fes, and the bitter anguifh, we find fo fre-
quently following human actions.
Thefe fame remorfes are certain indica-
tions that the man is confcious of a power
inherent in him, which, if duly exerted,
might, and would, have prevented thofe
actions which give him fo much diſtreſs.
And to this alone can any appeal be made
in theſe forts of queſtions. The powers of
the mind can never be perceived but by
the mind itſelf; nor will any man ever
charge himſelf with what he could by no
means prevent, any more than he can be
juftly
VOL. I.
K
74
Eff. II
Of the HUMAN
juftly charged by another. And however
a man may be certainly determined by a
certain fet of motives, rooted affections,
and inveterate habits, he can never, with
any tolerable propriety, be faid to be ne-
ceffarily fo; while he has it in his power,
by applying the proper means, to overba-
lance, and even reprobate, thefe motives;
to extirpate theſe affections and habits, and
plant in their place fuch as fhall lead to a
courfe of action directly oppofite.
Without fuch a power as this, all the
reſt we have mentioned muſt be entirely
fuperfluous; as, on the contrary, the whole
courſe of the mind's agency naturally leads
to this fingle point; which, if it is not at-
tained, the whole labour of the mind, all
the perceptions, compariſons, reafonings,
and judgements, that induſtrious and pain-
ful claffing of things that affect us, and
careful regiſtration of them, muſt be fome-
thing worſe than loft. But, indeed, loft
they cannot be for juſt as naturally as the
mind, by theſe previous fteps, prepares the
proper objects, the pleaſure that attends
them engages the heart, excites the proper
affections and paffions, and commands the
whole executive powers; fo that in time the
man
}
CONSTITUTION, &c.
75
&
man comes to purfue this new courfe with
as much pleaſure and delight, under the
influence of thefe new views and motives,
as ever he did the higheſt gratifications of
fenfe. But of this we fhall have occafion
to ſpeak more fully afterward: what we
have advanced here, is mainly defigned to
give a general view of the two great con-
ſtituent parts of man, the animal ſyſtem,
and the active ruling mind.
<
Whether the fpirit which is in man
could have fubfifted, and acted, feparately
from all matter, we have no light to ena-
ble us to determine peremptorily, whate-
ver reaſon we may have to believe that it
may do both, without fuch grofs bodies as
ours are: but during the continuance of
this preſent ſtate, we are well affured, that
however it is the principal part, yet it is
but a part of the man; and both body and
foul are equally neceffary to make
up what
we call the human conftitution.
We are as much at a lofs to give a
ny account of the nature of this union,
how it is made at firft, and by what means
it is maintained and kept up, any further
than that it is neceffary the animal ſyſtem
be complete in its internal frame, eſpe-
cially
K 2
*
76
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
X
>
cially the more fubtile and fluid parts, and
that proper food and fuftenance is neceffa-
ry to keep it fo. One may be tempt-
ed to think, that matter receives here the
higheſt refinement it is capable of, for fit-
ting it for the human foul, the loweſt or-
der of fpirits, to unite with and act by.
Nor will this appear fo whimſical to fuch
as allow different kinds and degrees of pu-
rity and perfection among fpirits, as there
certainly are in matter; though all the
degrees, both of the one and the other,
may agree in ſome certain properties and
- powers.
But however the union is made, and
perhaps it will be wifeft, as it is certainly
fafeft, to reſt it on the inexplicable wifdom
and power of the great creator, the fact is
moſt undoubtedly certain, and fuch as e-
very man carries the witneſs of in himſelf,
in that mutual dependence which they are
found to have on one another, both in their
being, and in the exerciſe of all their powers.
When we propofe to confider the mutual
dependence of the foul and body, with re-
ſpect to their being, we muſt not be un-
derſtood to mean the matter of the body,
very fubftance of the fpirit. The
or the
matter
CONSTITUTION, &C.
77
matter which compofes the animal fyftem,
no body doubts, was in being before there
was any union with the active mind; and
when that is diffolved, there is not one a-
tom of it annihilated. And however the
fubftance of every foul may be ſuppoſed
immediately created, though even that is
what there is nothing can give us fufficient
affurance of, it is yet more unlikely that it
ſhould be deſtroyed by the feparation: but
however the fubftance continues after fe-
paration, yet both muft undergo fuch chan-
ges, as that they fhall no more poſſeſs the
properties and powers which fubfifted du-
ring the union. The animal ſyſtem, we know,
is entirely diffolved, and its curious mecha-
niſm abfolutely deſtroyed; and though we
cannot fay what alteration is made in the ſpi-
rit, yet, even allowing that it carries along
with it the moſt refined and fubtile parts
of that matter it uſed to act by, it is ftill
but a part of man, feparate from its fel-
low; and therefore fubfifting and acting in
a manner very different from its former
manner during its union with the body; a
ſtate evidently violent and unnatural.
The mutual dependence of the mind and
animal fyftem, in their actings and opera-
tions,
78
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
tions, during the continuance of their u-
nion, as the knowledge of it is of more ufe
to us, fo of it we have much more certain-
ty. As the body without the ſpirit would
be but a dead lump of matter, or, at beſt,
when fitted up into a fyftem, a mere
brute; fo, on the other hand, as the mind
thinks, and exerts all its powers, not only
in, but by, the body; were it not for the
notices it receives by its organs, we have
great reaſon to believe it would have no-
thing at all to think on; and as it has no
direct intuition of its own fubftance, nor
can know any more of its nature than can
be gathered from its operations and act-
ings, it muſt continue in a ſtate of ſtupid
inactivity, without fo much as being con-
fcious of its own exiſtence,
A
Certain it is, that man, in his firſt infancy,
appears evidently a mere animal, and many
degrees below most of them; minding no-
thing but what the animal inſtinct, a re-
fult of his conſtitution, puts him upon.
Nor is there the leaſt appearance of thought
or reflection, or any other evidence of a
reaſonable ſpirit within, until the organs
are ſtrong enough to receive and convey
the feelings of external impreffions. On
thefe
CONSTITUTION, &C.
79
theſe the mind begins to work, and in
the fame manner is continually fupplied
with materials. It is not until very late,
that one can entertain fo much as any ap-
prehenfions of fuch a being as a fpirit, and
yet later ere they can form any tolerable
conceptions of its nature: and when it is
confidered, that we have no original impref-
fions, nor any thing to form them upon,
but what we can gather from the actings
of our own minds, the model being fo
imperfect, a taint of material imagery
runs through our moſt refined notions,
which no abftraction whatfoever can di-
veſt them of, unleſs we could form an i-
dea of thinking without any object to
think on.
But however that is, the fenfible evi-
dence we have of the mind's moſt perfect
actings depending on the body, and the
right conftitution of the animal fyftem,
puts the matter quite beyond doubt. We
gave fome hints before, of the influence
which the feveral difpofitions of that fy-
ſtem have upon the paffions and affections,
and thereby upon the external actions, and
conduct of life. Thofe who will be at
pains to obſerve it, will readily find it ex-
tending
拳
​80
EA. II.
Of the HUMAN
tending further, not only to the memory,
but to the judgement itſelf, and all the ra-
tional powers; and thereby affecting the
mind, in the exercife, at leaſt, of her high-
eft endowments. The feveral tempers,
difpofitions, and habitual inclinations of
mankind, will all be found owing to the
fame caufe; nor can they poffibly be al-
tered, without altering the difpofition and
movements of that part of the fyftem
which occafions them.
But nothing puts the mind's dependence
on the body in a more confpicuous and
glaring point of light, than the cafe of
thoſe who, from their birth, or very ear-
ly infancy, have been deftitute of any of
the organs of fenfe. Both reafon and ex-
perience join to affure us, that no means
whatſoever can enable the mind to form
any conception of the objects which would
have been eaſily perceived by their mini-
ftry. What then fhould be the cafe of a
man, if fuch a man can be fuppofed, who
never had any feeling, either external or
internal? or wherein would he differ from
a mere vegetable?
The influence of the mind on the body,
though as hard to be accounted for, is e-
very
CONSTITUTION, &c.
81
very way as real and obvious. For howe-
ver fome parts of the animal ſyſtem per-
form their proper offices, without
any in-
terpofal at all of the mind, or fo much as
any conſciouſneſs that fuch things are a-
doing; yet every one knows he can move
or reſtrain his tongue, or his hands, for in-
ftance, and employ them as readily at
pleaſure, as he can think of any thing:
nay, even the moſt ſpiritual actions of the
mind, and fuch as are moſt remote from
any thing material, yet affect the body in
a very fenfible manner, mar digeſtion,
exhauſt the ſpirits, and produce a weari-
neſs and indiſpoſition in the whole fabrick,
even greater than the moſt toilfome labour,
and in time wear it out more effectually.
We have another inſtance of this fame
dependence, though lefs obvious, yet ra-
ther ſtronger than that just now mention-
ed. It is taken from the influence which
the affections of the mind have upon the
body. I fay, the affections and paffions of
the mind; not as if that was their pro-
per feat, or that they ever can properly be
called by theſe names while they continue
.there, and until the latent powers which
command the executive fyftem are put in
VOL. I.
*
L
motion :
$2
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
motion: but however in multitudes of in-
ſtances theſe ſecret ſprings are touched by
the mechaniſm of material inpreffions and
impulfes, it is not always fo; and we
find the very fame ſymptoms produced,
where no fuch impreffion could have been
made, but by the intervention of fome
conclufion the mind had formed. Thus
certain words and actions, which pafs un-
regarded by the man who underſtands not
the meaning of them, fhall raiſe another
who does, to the higheſt degree of furious
rage, more effectually than the ſmarteſt
blows would have done without them. Nor
are there any of the more refined affec-
tions, which confeffedly take their rife
from the mind, that are not conftantly
attended with their proper correfponding
motions in the animal fyftem,
+
There is another inftance we have had
frequent occafion to hint at, wherein the
power of the mind over the animal fy-
ftem appears in its full ſtrength, viz. form-
ing and altering at pleafure what we call
habits and cuftoms, on which the whole of
what is ſtyled the manners of men, and every
part of their conduct, almoft entirely de-
pend. This will eafily appear to be much
above
CONSTITUTION, &c.
83
way,
above its having the command of fome
particular actions. Custom or habit car-
ries in it, not only a certain eaſe and
facility in acting, fo that the thing
done without any pain or reluctancy, but
fuch a pronenefs toward fome particular
that the man, as it were, naturally,
and without thinking, falls into it. This
is very apparent in common habits, fuch
as concern indifferent things; and, with
fome few exceptions, the whole bufi-
nefs of education, good manners, civility,
and politenefs, nay, almoft of all callings
and profeffions, ftand on the fame bottom.
Whence the old true proverb, That cuftom
is a fecond nature. Nothing is more com-
mon among men, than to alledge, they
cannot bring their mind to this or the o-
ther thing, while yet they fee, and readi-
ly acknowledge, it would be much better
for them if they did. But the true caufe
will, in this cafe, be found to lie, not in
the mind, but in fome contrary habit;
the whole animal fyftem is fet another
way, fo that the heart is engaged in it;
nor is every man mafter of fufficient
ſtrength of mind to reform, and turn it
into another channel: and yet till that is
done;
L 2
84
Eff.II.
Of the HUMAN
done, though it may be overpowered in
fome particular inſtances, yet it will readi-
ly return to its uſual courfe.
This whole affair will be better under-
flood, by comparing the mind and animal
fyftem in another view, viz. in the point
of fuperiority. And this again may be con-
fidered with reſpect to their excellency and
natural worth; their authority and juſt
power; and the actual power and in-
fluence they have over the human confti-
tution in the conduct of life.
The flighteſt reflection that can be made
on what has been obferved, concerning the
nature and actings of both, will leave no
room to ſtate a competition, in point of
excellency and dignity, even when our
notions of the one are taken at the loweſt,
and the other at the higheft, unlefs they
are abfurdly jumbled and confounded in-
to one.
There can be as little difpute on the
point of authority and juft power; as the
grounds on which it is, or can be, found-
ed, meet together in the mind; a fuperio-
rity of nature, fitnefs to command, and,
what is equivalent to the moſt folemn in-
veftiture, the good order and government,
nay, the
very being and happineſs of the
whole,
4
CONSTITUTION, &c.
85
{
whole, depend on the due fubordination
of the animal life to the direction of the
mind.
We need not ſpend words on the natu-
ral fuperiority of the active ſpirit in man,
as it follows neceffarily on that natural dig-
nity and worth we were juſt now ſpeaking
of; founded, as it is, in the activity of
its nature, and the power it is poſſeſſed of,
not only of continuing, but beginning,
both thought and motion, and varying
and modifying theſe at pleaſure. And if
we carry our thoughts but a little further,
to take in that thought and deſign with
which its whole procedure is conducted,
the corrections and improvement it makes
on the intelligence received by the fenfes,
and the purpoſes it either does, or would,
if it was not oppofed, apply them to, for
regulating the whole conduct of life to the
beſt advantage, we fhall hardly make any
doubt of its fitnefs to command, and e-
ven that the good of the whole depends
entirely on the abfolute fubmiffion of all
the inferior powers to its decifions.
क
Theſe, it is evident, carry in them fome-
thing above the ſtrongeſt prefumptions;
and plainly enough declare the intention
of
86
Eff. II
Of the HUMAN
of the great author of our conftitution.
But if we will ftill have further evidence,
we need only turn our thoughts to another
kind of dependence, viz. that which every
man has on things without, whence he
mufi be furniſhed with all the materials of
enjoyment, and where his whole fund of
happineſs lies; and upon an impartial fur-
vey it will appear, that the mind is in-
deed, and muſt be, inveſted with all right-
ful power and authority; but in the point
of actual power and influence, the compe-
tition is fo ftrong, as not only to bring it
to a queſtion, which fhall rule, but perhaps,
in moſt inſtances, the lower fyftem carries
it; the animal commands, and the man
ferves.
Man, with all the advantages his com-
pofition gives him over other animals, is yet
the remoteſt that can well be imagined from
a felf-fufficient being. As he came into ex-
iftence without any concurrence, or even
confcioufnefs of his own, in a manner he
knows not how, and by the contrivance
and operation of certain powers he can
give no account of; fo, when he enters
upon his exiflence, he has nothing about
him to fupport it ſo much as a ſingle mo-
ment,
CONSTITUTION, &c.
87
ment, until it is borrowed from abroad: ſọ
that, confidered in himſelf, the beſt account
that can be made of him is mere emptineſs,
a creature made up of wants; yet fo made,
as that all theſe wants may be relieved, the
emptinefs filled, and by this means the man.
grow up from the loweſt and moſt deſpicable
beginnings, to fuch a degree of perfection,
that there is not an order of creatures fo
high that he needs to look on it with envy,
and at the fame time none fo low, as that he
can juſtly look
upon it with contempt: and
thus his loweſt ſtate of want and indigence,
becomes not only the occafion, but the pro-
per means, of his perfection and glory; and
is the only root on which they can be graft-
ed, fo as to arrive at any pitch of matu-
rity. It is that very thing we call his ca-
pacity, which is larger or narrower, juft
in proportion to the feeling he has of his
wants, and the largeneſs of thoſe appetites
and cravings of proper fupply.
At the fame time it is to be obferved,
to the glory of the great author and con-
triver of the univerfal fyftem, that as,
throughout the whole, one part exactly
anſwers another; fo, in relation to man,
there is abundant provifion made of every
thing
88
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
thing neceſſary for his relief, and ſupply-
ing every part of his emptinefs, to the ut-
moſt extent of the moſt enlarged capacity;
and thefe laid, one way or other, fo with-
in his reach, that he may apply as much
as he has occafion for; and which he will
be found, on juft inquiry, to be exactly
made for.
The numberlefs wants of mankind are
all naturally reducible to two general
heads, founded in the two conſtituent parts
fo often mentioned, the mind, and the body,
or rather the animal frame: and as theſe
are fo different in their nature, they muſt
have each of them their proper fupply
from their correfponding objects, of very
different kinds; and therefore they are e-
qually the concern of the whole man, where
both are fo clofely united. Each of theſe may
be properly ſubdivided into fuch as are ne-
ceffary for their fubfiftence, their improve-
ment, and for providing a proper fund of
pleaſure and enjoyment;. by which the
perfection and happineſs of the whole man
may be carried on together.
What is neceſſary for the fupport of ſpi-
rits, how they improve, and wherein their
proper enjoyments lie, we are but ill able
to
CONSTITUTION, ¿'.
89
to judge, fo long as we are fuch ſtrangers
to their nature. We may be very fure in-
deed, that all muſt be done quite in ano-
ther manner, and by another fort of
means, than fuch as are fubfervient to the
animal life; and if we may judge by the
analogy there is between the two, it muſt
be fomething of the fame nature, fome
fpiritual thing; and whatever notion we
frame of it, it will be found to lead up to
the great father of ſpirits, the author and
ſupporter of our beings. But until the hu-
man fpirit is, by due culture, improved
to fuch a degree of perfection and capaci-
ty, as ſhall be in fome meaſure propor-
tioned to objects ſo much above its natu-
ral pitch, theſe will be looked on as unin-
telligible fpeculations; or, if there is any
reality in them, fo remote, that few will
think it worth while to mind them.
What concerns the animal life, as it lies
much more obvious, fo, on many accounts,
it engages our attention more readily;
and not without reafon, as theſe things
are not only abfolutely neceffary to the
fupport of the conftitution, but likewife
the only poffible means of improvement,
as it is from thence materials are taken in,
VOL. I.
M
and
go
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
and the foundation laid, for the moft fub-
lime and ſpiritual exerciſes to which the
mind itſelf can ever be raiſed. But, in the
mean time, how to obtain the moſt agree-
able nouriſhment for fupporting and im-
proving the animal ſyſtem, and what are
called the comforts of life, how to ward off
pain, and to purchaſe as much pleaſure as
theſe forts of objects can fupply, make up
the main bufinefs of life.
As man is a compound of fleſh and ſpi-
rit, united in the neareſt and cloſeſt man-
ner, there arifes from this union another
fort of wants, and enjoyments of a mixed
kind; fuch as a fpirit difengaged from
matter could have no reliſh of, and which
yet no mere animal can poffibly come up
to. Of this fort are all the veſtiges of de-
fign and contrivance, in the beauty, or-
der, and harmony, of the works of nature,
and eſpecially the whole fabrick and fur-
niture of the moral world, mens conduc
and behaviour toward one another, with
all the actions and paffions of fpirits
dwelling in flefh; from which the far
greateſt part of the pleafures and pains of
a prefent ftate take their rife: And thefe
are the pleaſures, and of this kind the bu-
finefs,
CONSTITUTION, &C.
91
finefs, that are, by the bulk of mankind,
reckoned the moſt refined and ſpiritual
man can riſe up to; who, if they can ac-
quit themſelves tolerably in the affairs of
fociety, conclude they have fulfilled all
the duties of human life.
And here there is one thing deſerves our
particular notice, that as there are multi-
tudes, even of thofe things which man is
very capable of taking in, and improving,
for his fuftenance and pleaſure, which
yet may eſcape his obfervation; fo long
as they do fo, the want of them gives
him no manner of trouble, however ill
provided he may be otherwife even with
the bare neceffaries of life; as we have
daily inftances, not only in infants, and
the wild nations, but in all thofe who have
not yet learned to extend their wants of
body or mind to fuch boundleſs heights
as they are carried in polite and learned
focieties. But take the moſt contented fa-
vage, or common peafant, you will need
do no more to ſpoil his contentment, than
let him fee what he wants; or, which is
much the fame thing, increaſe his know-
ledge. Certain uneafy feelings imme-
diately arife, which either are, or imme-
diately
M 2
92
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
diately produce, appetites, cravings, and
fuch importunate defires, as give the man
no reſt until they are fatisfied.
The ſtate of mankind, and the advan-
çes he makes, from his early infancy,
throughout the feveral ſtages of life, if care-
fully obferved, would fet the whole of
what we have been pointing at in a very
obvious light. The child cannot fubfift a
moment without air to breathe in, and
but a very little while without
proper food
and fuftenance: when the calls of nature,
thoſe feelings which go under the names of
hunger and thirst, are anſwered, all is eaſy
and quiet, unleſs fome impreffion happens,
to be made on the under fyftem which oc-
cafions pain. It is not until the organs of
fenfe grow up to fome meaſure of ftrength,
that he diſcovers any tafte of pleaſure, or
fondnefs, for fuch things as afford it; but
whenever thefe are obferved, they are
fought after with great eagerness.
Thus, for a long time, pleaſure and pain
are taken in only by the outward fenſes;
nor has the young thoughtless creature the
leaſt notion of any other: and all this while
the fpirit is no more than a fervant to the
animal; and, in multitudes of men, con-
tinues
CONSTITUTION, &C.
93
tinues in that fubjection, perhaps, through
the courſe of a long life, without ever en-
gaging in any other, even thofe of the
mixed kind, any further than they can be
made fubfervient to fome fenfual gratifica-
tion: and the whole bufinefs of the active
principle is, to refine upon them, and, by
varying and interchanging, to keep up the
reliſh of life, as much as can be done by
fuch low and inadequate objects. Nor
can there be fo much as a competition, un-
til the mind is fufficiently inftructed to ex-
erciſe its proper authority, and can form fuch
a judgement of things, as fhall make fome
kind of balance againſt ſenſe and feeling;
and thus claim the command of the man,
and the direction of his conduct
There are two cafes, to which I believe all
the rest may be reduced, wherein this com-
petition can happen. The firſt, when there
are two or more objects of different value,
though both of the ſenſual kind, and the
loweſt, as very commonly happens, proves
moſt grateful to the animal fyftem. The
other, when the mind fets up for itſelf,
and promotes the purfuit of its own pro-
per gratification, at the expence of fome
fenfual pleaſure. And even among the
proper
94
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
proper pleaſures of the mind, fome are
more nearly allied to thoſe of the animal;
others, and thefe the moſt noble, are more
oppoſite to them. It is eafy to fee, in ei-
ther cafe, what immenfe advantage the a-
nimal powers have over the rational: The
heart is engaged; habits formed, and deep-
ly rooted; the whole mechaniſm of the
fyftem is formed upon the fenfual way;
and the mind, with all its activity, cannot
command fo much as a free thought, un-
til the whole is turned a contrary way, and
the affections and paffions engaged on the
oppofite fide.
As theſe fame affections and paffions are
of fo great moment in the human confti-
tution, it will be neceffary to take fome
more particular notice of them. We ob-
ferved already concerning the rife and
fpring of them, that they are no more
than certain internal feelings, raiſed and
carried on by fome particular and appro-
priated movements in the more fubtile
and refined parts of the animal fyſtem,
tending, fome with more, .fome with lefs.
violence, but all of them tending to im-
mediate action. Nor does it make any odds
whether theſe movements are excited and
maintained
CONSTITUTION, &c.
95
maintained by the mechanifin of the ex-
ternal organs, or by the inward agency of
thought and reflection; only the laſt are
ufually more calm and fedate; though,
even in fome of thefe, the mechanic powers
break loofe from under the direction of the
mind, and make no fmall confufion. A
fhort view of the ſeveral kinds of them, and
of the manner in which they are or may be
managed, fo as to preferve due order in the
general fyftem, or ſtate of the human con-
ſtitution, will anſwer our prefent purpoſe.
As theſe two names, affections and paf-
fions, are commonly ufed promifcuouſly
in our language, I know not whether it
might not be deemed a fuperfluous affecta-
tion of accuracy, to diftinguish them; fo
as to appropriate the firſt to denote the o-
riginal movements excited directly by the
objects, which either immediately produce,
or give the profpect of pleaſure or pain, to
the improvement or detriment of the con-
ftitution; and thence reckoned good or e-
vil, tending to happineſs or mifery: and
by the paffions to denote thoſe occafional
movements made by the interpofal of other
things during the purfuit, which appear
either to hinder or forward the main de-
fign.
96
Eff. ÌI.
Of the HUMAN
fign. It is evident, however, that the firſt
are primary and direct; the other only fe-
condary, and bearing ſome relation to the
primary ones; without which there would
be no place found for them.
Of the first fort it is evident there can
be no more than two; as there are only two
forts of objects that can make any impref-
fion on us, viz. fuch as appear good or e-
vil, advantageous or hurtful; or, to fay all
in one word, fuch as pleaſe or diſpleaſe:
for if there are any perfectly indifferent,
they make no impreffion at all, but paſs by
without being at all regarded, or produ-
cing any affection whatſoever. Thefe, in
their perfect ſtate, are well known under the
names of love and hatred; but both admit
of many degrees, and a multitude of dif-
ferent circumftances; whence arife as ma-
ny different movements. Some of them
have particular names; others, though
really diferent, have none, but are reckon-
ed in with fuch as have. But all of them,
no matter what the objects are, further
than as they pleaſe or diſpleaſe, from the
loweft inclinations and averfions to the
higheſt pitch of delight and abhorrence,
will be found to run into one or other
of theſe radical ones.
The
CONSTITUTION, &c.
97
The fecondary affections, we took notice
of, are moſt properly paffions, arifing moſt
commonly on unexpected and unforeſeen
oppofition in the courfe of the primary
ones; and anſwer very great purpoſes in
their proper place. The principal of thefe is
anger, in all the degrees of it, which is a vio-
lent effort of nature to remove the oppofi-
tion; and accordingly puts the whole fyftem
on the utmoſt ſtretch for that purpoſe,
and were it not balanced by fear, raiſed
by the appearance of danger, chilling the
fpirits, and weakening the powers of the
fyſtem, the world would be but one ſcene
of confufion. Anger diſappointed fettles
into refentment; which is no more than
that original paffion, balanced with fear,
and hid until an opportunity offers for re-
venge. Much of the fame kind is ill-will,
envy, &c. When a perfon ſteps between one
and the enjoyment in profpect, or when
it is apprehended he will do fo, anger be-
gets jealoufy, emulation, &c. and the fe-
veral degrees of theſe, according to the de-
gree of eagerness or coolnefs in the pur-
fuit.
There is another clafs of thofe common-
ly reckoned among the fecondary affec-
tions,
VOL. I.
N
98
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
tions, viz. the movements occafioned by the
mind's reflection on the iffue and event of
her purfuits; and all of them attended
with their diſtinct feelings in the animal
ſyſtem. A probable or certain profpect of
fuccefs, creates that ſtate we call hope,
naturally attended with longings, expecta-
tions, &c. On the contrary, a' probabili-
ty, or even a poffibility, of a diſappoint-
ment, begets fear; not that fear we formerly
fpoke of, but fuch a concern as puts one
upon all proper precautions for preventing
the danger. If the diſappointment is cer-
tain, or apprehended to be fo, it produces
defpair, and fuperfedes all further endea-
vours. Succefs in the purfuit and the
poffeffion of the defired good, begets joy,
delight, complacency, &c.; until the en-
joyment cloys, and ends in fatiety, cold-
nefs, and many times averfion and hatred.
If before fatiety the enjoyment is loft, then
hope diſappointed brings forrow, grief,
anxiety, and perplexity. There are no
doubt many other circumftances and cor-
reſponding movements, and many degrees
of theſe, which have no names: nor is it
material whether one knows them or not.
The main thing we have to attend to, is
the
CONSTITUTION, &C.
99
the ſtrength of the impreffion they make,
and the influence they have on the animal
mechaniſm, determining the courſe of he
man's actions and behaviour.
There is another divifion of the affec-
tions very much inſiſted on by the maſters
of morality, taken from the relation they
bear to, and the influence they may have
on, fociety, viz. into the private and public,
or the ſelfiſh and benevolent kind; very well
calculated, indeed, for anfwering certain
purpoſes they have in view; but, at the
fame time, they do not appear to have any
the leaſt foundation in nature. Not that
the public or benevolent affections are not
as much founded in the human conſtitu-
tion as the private and moſt ſelfiſh ones;
but, for this very reaſon, there is not, nor
can be, any natural foundation for making
a diftinction. It is true, indeed, what
concerns one's private and peculiar pleaſure
and happineſs, prefents itſelf firſt and moſt
directly to the affections; yet where-ever
the intereſts of the public appear more de-
firable, and there are many ways of ma-
king them appear fo, the man purſues
them preciſely on the fame plan of plea-
fure, and is acting juſt as ſelfiſhly as he
N 2
did
100
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
did when he minded nothing but gratify-
ing his taſte, or filling his belly. The ob-
ject of his pleaſure is changed; and that is
no more than happens every day but
until he finds his pleafure in the thing,
whatever it be, it neither is, nor can be,
the object of his purſuit; and, on the o-
ther hand, whatever it be, or whence fo-
ever it comes recommended, whether from
the animal feelings, or the dictates of the
rational mind, if the impreffion can be
made ſtrong enough to pleaſe, ſo far as it
does fo, the heart, that is, the whole man,
will certainly be engaged.
It is, however, in thefe natural inclina-
tions, and the ſtrong connection that fub-
fifts between the feveral affections and
paffions, with their proper objects, that the
great ftrength of the animal life lies. And
for this reaſon eſpecially, the maſters of
the Stoic morality, finding them ſo trou-
bleſome, and defpairing of bringing them
into a proper fubjection to their ruling
principle, propoſed eradicating them alto-
gether, and ſubſtituting in their room
thofe rules of wiſdom dictated by the fu-
perior mind; which they conceived werę
the
CONSTITUTION, &c.
ΙΟΙ
the only maxims whereby an intelligent be-
ing ought to be directed.
Nothing can be imagined more extrava-
gant than this piece of philofophical knight-
errantry, as it is commonly underſtood: for
befides that thefe affections are as natural,
and as much a part of the human conftitu-
tion, as the moſt calm and deliberate judge-
ments of the moſt exalted mind, they are,
in their own place, every way as neceffary.
The wifeſt and beſt-concerted determina-
tions muſt prove abortive, unleſs the heart
is engaged; and were it poffible a ſenſe of
duty could effect that thing, yet a man with-
out affections could have no taſte nor reliſh
of any thing, and confequently no hap-
pineſs, even in the moſt exquifite enjoy-
ments.
But though they cannot be extirpated,
yet regulated they muft be; and perhaps
this was all that was meant by their hy-
perbolical expreffions: and indeed thefe
natural movements, when authoriſed and
directed by the mind, may, with great-
er juftice, be called actions than paſſions;
the informations given by the fenfes being
only the loweſt, groffeft, and moft worth-
lefs objects in view; and thefe, very com-
monly,
102
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
What is
monly, much mifreprefented.
pleaſing and delightful to ſenſe, may be very
hurtful, and even deſtructive, to the man;
and fuch objects as appear the moſt horrid
and frightful, may, upon the whole, be
infinitely more eligible. It is the mind's
province to examine, compare, and judge.
Where theſe determinations are not re-
garded, as perhaps moft frequently they
are not, the conftitution muſt be endan-
gered, if not deſtroyed; and the man con-
figned to an infupportable remorſe, and
often a too late repentance: fo that indeed
felf-denial, and mortification of the ani-
mal life, are the moſt natural duties, and
abfolutely neceſſary to raiſe one the leaſt
degree above the beaſts of the field.
But how theſe fame unruly and tumul-
tuous affections and paffions may be redu-
ced to their proper order, and kept in it, is
the great queftion. It will be very evi-
dent to thoſe who will be at pains to
confider it, both from the nature of the
thing, and the general experience of man-
kind, that there are only two ways of at-
tempting this with any fuccefs, viz. balan-
cing the paffions, by playing one againſt the
other, or by bribing them off with proper
equivalents;
CONSTITUTION, &c.
103
equivalents; and to one or other of theſe
may be reduced all the attempts that ever
have been made to any purpoſe for regu-
lating the conduct of human life. In the
firſt view, the main, and, in effect, the
only ballaft of the paffions, are fear and
hope. The fear of confequences chills the
ſpirits, and reſtrains the immoderate hurry
of the animal movements; and thereby
makes the purſuit more flow, and leaves
more room for calm deliberation; while,
in a fimilar manner, hope guards againſt
the bad effects of grief and diſappoint-
ment, and keeps the man from ſinking in-
to fullen defpair. The other is every way
as much founded in nature, and we
have daily inſtances of it, in the changes
men are every day making of the objects
of their purfuit, and exchanges of what is
called the ruling paffion; or, to fay the thing
more properly, of the objects which ingrofs
their affection, and deaden them to every
thing elſe.
And now that I have mentioned thefe
fame ruling paffions, it muſt be obferved
how much they contribute to the eafe and
quiet of mankind: For, if all men had
the fame object of purfuit, there muſt
have
104
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
have been a continual interfering of inte-
reft, and ſcarce a poffibility left of getting
out of a continued ftate of war, every man
againſt every man; but now that men are
diſtinguiſhed into certain claffes, determi-
ned by their ſtations, circumftances, and
taftes, and fixed by the conftant character
of their favourite affection, they may be
friends with all the world befides.
So long as the affection continues fixed
on one object, the man's character is like-
wife fixed; and, from the knowledge of
his views, one may ſay very poſitively how
he will act in any particular cafe: but
yet the paſſions, every one, even the moſt
violent, may be either balanced or bribed
off by more agreeable objects; and by this
the whole conduct of the man altered. But
it is not every fuch exchange that gives
the mind any advantage. Where the ob-
jects either of one's hopes or fears, or the
pleaſures which induce him to the ex-
change, are of the fame kind, the animal
life may continue ſtill in its full ſtrength,
as indeed happens in moſt of theſe exchan-
ges.
Unleſs, then, the ruling mind have
fomething to offer which can outweigh all
the
1
105
CONSTITUTION, &C.
the pleaſures which blindly ingrofs the af-
fections, they will continue their courſe,
in ſpite of all reaſon and argument, what-
ever wiſhes or remorfes may rife on fome
occafions: Video meliora, proboque; deteriora
Jequor; fo that, in the event, the man will
be juſt where he was. Moſt men imagine
they have done the buſineſs, if they can
fix their heart on fomething above ſenſua-
lity, and enter upon the pleaſures of the
middle kind; and if they happen to fix on
any of thoſe things which give the deno-
mination of public ſpirit or benevolence, they
are ready to imagine themſelves patriots,
heroic fpirits, and all the fine things that
have been faid to flatter men into fo-
ciablenefs and good neighbourhood.
But to take the true dimenfions of hu-
man perfection, we muft carry our views
above the pleaſures of fociety as well as of
fenſe;
and in order thereto, take in yet an-
other and higher dependence every man
has on the objects of the unfeen fpiritual
world; and there eſpecially upon the author
of our exiſtence, the preferver of our lives,
and the great proprietor of all thoſe things
we thoughtlessly call ours, and pretend to the
abfolute difpofal of. Nothing can be more
VOL. I.
evident,
O
A
106
Eff. If.
Of the HUMAN
evident, than that if there is fuch a being,
it is fomething above common folly to
propoſe any thing like happineſs, ſo long
as we are in any doubt about his favour and
friendſhip; or fo much as to furmife, that
any enjoyment that can be found among
his creatures may be brought into the
loweſt competition with what is to be
found in him. Until then the mind is fur-
niſhed with fatisfying views of God, and
the joys and pleaſures of the unfeen world;
the great, the only expedient, for redu-
ducing every affection and paffion, muſt
be wanting. An object this, which none
can deprive another of, and the whole u-
niverſe may ſhare in, without diminiſhing
the enjoyment of one individual; in fhort,
the only chief good, vainly fought after by
the philofophers, among his creatures.
When the mind, then, duly inſtructed
and informed, furveys, according to its
natural office, the whole compaſs of ob-
jects on which it has any dependence;
confiders what is good, and what evil; what
is to be purfued, and what to be avoided;
by what means, and in what order, they are
attainable, and how to be enjoyed, and im-
proved to the beſt advantage; the man ei-
ther
1
CONSTITUTION, &C.
107
ther is, or may be, as confcious of the de-
cifion, and, we muſt fay, with much
greater certainty, than he can be of any of
thoſe feelings received from external im-
preſſions of any kind. This is really the
inward ſenſe of the man, and is the onlý
piece of our knowledge which is abfolutely
exempted from thofe fceptical fubtilties
which may be employed to intangle every
other part: for let us be as ignorant as can
be imagined of every thing without us,
and indeed thoſe who know moft are very ig-
norant, yet when one has carried his doubts
as far as they will
go, he can never que-
ftion the truth and reality of his inward
feelings; and fenfible he muſt be, on what
occafions, and in what degrees, he is plea-
fed and difpleafed, fo long as he is con-
ſcious of his own being.
And as there is nothing a man can be
fo certain of, ſo there is not any thing
more natural, and which is, or can be,
a more direct and immediate refult of the
conftitution, and more out of the man's
power to direct or manage at pleaſure,
hardly excepting the firſt and moſt origi-
nal calls of the animal œconomy, and eve-
ry way as effential and involuntary as the
O 2
feeling
*
108
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
feeling of pain or pleaſure. It is true, the
mind may be diverted from confidering
and judging; but fo may the eyes and
ears, nay, the very natural appetites of
hunger and thirft; but without doing
violence to the conftitution, one can no
more avoid the conviction of his mind,
than he can avoid feeing light in broad
funſhine, or feeling hunger and thirſt,
when nature calls for proper fupplies.
We might add what has been oftener
than once hinted, and is a neceffary con-
fequence of what has been faid on this
fubject, that until the mind examines, and
gives judgement, the man is fo far from
being maſter of his own actions, that he
is properly no agent at all, but is acted up-
on, toſſed hither and thither, by the animal
powers, as mechanically, one may fay,
as a tennice-ball has its motions directed
by the stroke of the racket. And until ·
thefe convictions are fo ftrong, as to form
all the powers of the fyftem upon them,
he continues a flave; with this addition of
mifery, that he finds the bitterneſs and
anguiſh of his bondage; which, however,
though a very bitter fenfation, yet is a
hopeful fymptom, as it gives fome ground
to
CONSTITUTION, &C.
109
to expect, he will watch carefully every
opportunity that may favour his efcape.
But however natural and neceffary it is,
that the mind ſhould command all the infe-
rior powers; yet when one confiders the
pre-
fent ftate of mankind with ever fo little at-
tention, they muſt ſee how great the ſtrug-
gle muft be, and how impoffible, to form
the whole fyftem into a regular fubmiffion,
by one or two, or even a multitude, of
faint attempts. This will
This will appear very e-
vident, if we will but attend to the very
common cafe of contracted habits in the
moſt indifferent things; fuppofe certain
aukward and unnatural geftures of body:
how hard is it to break them off? and how
infenfibly does the man fall back into his
former way, when he is ever fo little off
his guard? How much more, when ha-
bits, or inveterate customs, are rooted in
one effential part of the conftitution long
before the mind is in any capacity of ma-
king the leaſt oppofition; but, on the
contrary, is difpofed to encourage and
confirm them: eſpecially when, beſides
all this, they are fo much encouraged
and fupported by the way of the
world about us, that even the mind
itſelf, until better informed, is tempt-
ed
7
110
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
ed to give them its fanction, and to
conclude them natural and reafonable?
What ſtrength of mind, what care and
watchfulneſs, are neceffary, and, above all,
what diligence, in the application of eve-
ry mean that may contribute, either to
ſtrengthen the mind, or to give weight to
its dictates?
:
This ftruggle is moſt difcernible, where
the inward fenfe we fpeak of, and the
convictions of the mind, are ftrong e-
nough to balance the impulfes of the ani-
mal foul. Where theſe are weaker, in the
fame proportion as they are fo, the ſtrug-
gle ceaſes but remorfes are frequent,
in fimilar degrees of ftrength or weakneſs,
until they are quite extinguiſhed, being
overpowered by the vigorous exertions of
the animal or mixed life. When, on the o-
ther hand, the man is fo happy, as, by
proper exerciſes of the rational powers,
and calling in the proper affiftances, to
have his mind and fentiments raiſed to
fuch a degree of ftrength, as can eafily o-
vercome all oppoſition, the ſtruggle abates
in the fame proportion, until he arrives
at that degree of perfection, which enters
one upon the calm enjoyment of life, and
the
CONSTITUTION, &c.
III
the happineſs which fuits his conſtitution
in all the parts of it.
This inward fenfe of the mind, the im-
preffions its dictates make upon the united
ſyſtem, and their prevailing influence there,
producing a fuitable feries of actions in
the conduct of life, though the fame power
originally, yet as it comes to be applied to
different fubjects, or taken in different
views, goes under different names. When
converfant about the regularity, beauty,
and order, of material things, whether the
productions of nature or art, diction and
ftyle, gefture and air, drefs and ornament,
and, in general, all the fubjects of imagi-
nation, it is called tafte, and fometimes
fancy; when applied to the conduct of life,
and as it forms the man upon the maxims
proper on every occafion and incident, it
is very properly called fentiment, as well
expreffing its true diftinguiſhing nature, viz.
the inward fenfe and feeling of the man.
When theſe things are enforced by the au-
thority of the great creator and fovereign,
in whatever way this may be fuppoſed to be
known, it commonly bears the name of con-
Science, and carries the higheſt influence; and
from the evidence and conviction that at-
tends
112
Ef. II.
Of the HUMAN
tends it, it is called one's light; by which,
accordingly, both one's own conduct, and
that of others, is juftified or condemned.
According then as mens affections and
paffions fall under the influence of the ani-
mal impulfe, or the direction of the active
mind, their actions are formed upon them,
and the conduct of life determined into a
certain courſe, which is called their man-
ner; that is, in plain Engliſh, the cuſtoms
they follow at firft but fingle actions,
aukwardly performed, but which, by fre-
quent repetition, become eafy, agreeable,
and fuch as one readily falls into, even
without thought or reflection, hence call-
ed habits; which is only another name for
inveterate cuſtoms: for in that light it ap-
pears the firſt authors of human language
confidered them; and, by what has been
faid, every body who underſtands them
will do fo ftill.
Into this, then, the whole buſineſs of mo
ral virtue, as it is called, must be refolved,
namely, That the courſe of mens actions,
i. e. their manners, cuftoms, habits, or
whatever they may be called, be conduct-
ed into a thorough conformity unto the
dictates of the mind;. and the fentiments
of
CONSTITUTION, &c.
113
of the heart formed, not on bare appear-
ances, but on true judgement of the real
worth and excellency of the feveral objects
upon which the man's happineſs or miſery
depends. And, for the fame reaſon, and
with the fame propriety of ſpeech, the
contrary courfe might be called moral vice,
had not cuſtom confecrated certain words
and phraſes, which thoſe who know not
the meaning of them; ignorantly take up,
and fuperftitiouſly amufe themſelves and
others with, to the perverting of truth,
and diverting their minds from mat-
ters of infinitely greater moment.
We only obferve, how juftly this regu-
lar conduct of human life was peculiarly
honoured by the men of the firſt ages with
the name of wiſdom, and continued to pof-
fefs that diftinguishing name, until the
knowledge of the objects without which
it could not fubfift, being loft, the whole
of it was reduced to the uncertainty of con-
jecture and opinion; and the moft the wi-
ſeft could pretend to, was to be a lover of
wifdom. Hence philofophy became a fort
of profeffion, which, hard to fay whether
from heedlefsnefs or defign, has continued.
to ufurp the honours due only to true wif-
VOL. I.
dom,
P
114
Ef. II.
1
Of the HUMAN
dom, even where that, in the higheft
meaſures of it, was revived and acknow-
ledged.
It is likewife to be obſerved, that all the
foundations of moral goodneſs affigned
by later maſters, naturally run into this
inward fenfe of the mind; and however
ſeemingly remote, and even oppoſite, they
may appear, yet all that have any foli-
dity in them, refolve into this, and there
amicably unite. Thus we fee, that moral
goodness is founded in the nature of things;
in truth; in the beauty, order, and har-
mony of the univerfe; that it is juſt and
right, beautiful and pleaſant, honourable
and gainful, &c.: but all this we fee, not
directly and immediately, but by the in-
tervention of proper fentiment; the percep
tion and judgement of the mind forming
the whole human fyftem upon theſe views,
which could never have made the leaſt im-
preffion without it. Nay, in this, even the
two oppofite fyftems of felf-love and public
affection, ſo earneſtly contended for, ami-
cably unite, and mutually fupport and
affift each other. While vice, on the
other hand, is the native iffue of darkneſs,
ignorance, and error; it is folly, madneſs,
deformity; and, in the event, as de-
ftructive
CONSTITUTION, &C.
115
ftructive and ruinous, as, in the whole
of its courſe, it is unnatural and brutiſh.
It would ſeem likewife, that this muſt
be the fame with what has of late made
ſo much noiſe in the world, under the
name of the internal and moral ſenſe; as it
certainly muſt be, if theſe words have any
meaning at all: but then they who affect
ſuch terms muſt be egregiouſly miſtaken
in their notions, when they talk of this in-
ternal and moral fenfe as fomething, not
only diſtinct from, but prior unto, all
judgement and reaſoning; yea naturally
implanted in man as a part of his confti-
tution, and a more infallible guide than any
obfervations fallible man can make: where-
as nothing can be more evident, than that
in the ſtate in which all mankind are born,
there neither is, nor can be, any fuch
thing as either tate or fentiment, until
they are fome how or other formed by
experience and obſervation.
I ſaid ſome how or other; becauſe there
are many ways of forming the taſte, fenti-
ment, and even confcience itſelf, beſides a
true knowledge of things, and a deliberate
judgement concerning them. Both reaſon
and experience affure us, that not only chil-
dren, but the bulk of mankind, may be
brought
P 2
116
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
brought to love or hate, purſue or a-
void, almoſt any thing, with the greateſt
force of bigotry; that the impreflions of
fenfe firſt, and then the example and way
of the world, are with moſt the only ſtand-
ard: and when the bulk, even of thofe
who value themſelves on their taſte and
fentiment, can affign no better ground, the
whole may be faid to reft upon mere ca-
price and fancy. And, therefore,
1
Since there may be fuch things as falfe
taſte, wrong fentiments, and erring con-
fciences, as well as thofe which are true.
and juft; and as the firft will produce as
quick and vigorous effects of approbation
and diflike; nay, for very obvious reaſons,
much ſtronger and more violent than the
laft; it muſt be abfurdly wrong, to reſolve
the morality, as it is called, or the right
and wrong, the good and evil, of human
actions, ultimately into any inward taſte
or fentiment; which, if it has not a ftand-.
ard in truth, and the nature of things, or
is not founded there, must be the moſt
flippery, fleeting, fanciful thing, that can
be imagined.
If any one wants to be refolved how the
mind of man comes by fuch a fway in the
human conftitution, as in this manner to
form
CONSTITUTION, &c. 117
*
form the whole complex fyftem upon its
dictates; this, no doubt, is originally
owing to the wife conftitution of its great
author, who has made this the diſtinguiſh-
ing characteriſtic of this tribe of his crea-
tures. But this being fuppofed, one needs
no more to fatisfy himſelf how it is, or
may be, effected, than to reflect a little on
what has been faid concerning the rife and
ſpring of all human actions, viz. the affec-
tions and paffions; how theſe are raiſed and
maintained, and thereby the whole uni-
ted fyftem put into that tendency to ac-
tion which we call the will, by certain
impulfes and movements on the moſt in-
ward and fubtile parts of it, which natu-
rally iffue in the proper effects, and fuch
a peculiar courſe of action. No body has
any difficulty about conceiving how this
may be done by material impulfes on the
organs of ſenſe, which all lead to, and
land in theſe. When it is then remember-
ed, how the mind retains, recalls, and
improves, theſe fame original perceptions,
and how intimately fhe is connected with
the material fyftem in all her operations and
actings, we will eafily apprehend how the
fame kind of movements must be produ-
zed. For as that active principle has at
command
118
Ef. H.
Of the HUMAN
command all the perceptions fhe has in re-
membrance; and, by comparing and con-
fidering thefe, can form out of them ima-
ges and repreſentations of what the feveral
different compofitions might produce: fo fhe
can employ thefe at pleafure for producing
motions of the fame kind, and directed
precifely in the fame manner, as the out-
ward impreffions made by the objects
themſelves would have done. And thence
it is, that theſe fort of impreffions made
by the mind's repreſentation of proper ob-
jects, of whatſoever kind they are, very
properly bears the name of motives; calm-
er indeed at firſt, and not near fo impe-
tuous, as thoſe excited by ſenſible impreſ
fions; but by being often repeated, as the
mind can repeat them at pleafure, they
come to produce the effect with as much
certainty, and in time engage the heart,
and form the executive fyftem into a courfe
of action, which nothing but giving way
to contrary impreffions can break off. All
which we may daily find in ourſelves, and
obferve in others, fully exemplified in the
changes that are made in mens tafte and
fentiments, or what they call the fate of
their.
"
CONSTITUTION, &c. 119
1
their mind, throughout the feveral ſtages
and different circumſtances of life.
From what was just now faid concern-
ing theſe movements, which either are the
fame thing with what we call the will, or
immediately and directly produce it when
arrived at a certain pitch; and in which
the concurrence of the whole man lies,
whether the mind engages the material ſy-
ftem, or the animal powers overcome and
fubdue the mind; a queftion has been
moved concerning the force or effect of
thefe motives which fet them agoing, and
the certainty one may have of fuccefs in
the application of them. This has been
carried ſo far, that ſome ſeem to fay, the
event in this cafe is either altogether, or
very near, as certain, as the determination
of the motion of one parcel of matter is by
the impulſe of another. What feems to be
the natural confequence of this, is, that
man can be no free agent, or rather no
agent at all, every action of his being cer-
tainly, i. e. neceffarily, determined into a
certain courſe, which it is impoffible for him
to avoid. Others will needs have the man
poffeffed of a certain power, by which he
can, if he will, act contrary to the ſtrong-
eft
120
Ef. II:
Of the HUMAN
eft and moſt effectual motives and excite-
ments. Whence have ariſen thoſe intricate,
and most of them unintelligible difputes,
concerning liberty and neceffity, the free-
dom, indifferency, and felf-determining
power of the will, and other fuch meta-
phyfical wranglings, of which there is no
profpect of ever feeing an end.
Were we able to look into the mecha-
niſm of the animal fyftem, and could give
an exact account of all the feveral move-
ments it is capable of; could we exactly
compare and balance the feveral powers
and forces of outward impreffions among
themſelves, and all of them with the in-
ward ones made by the mind, with their
feveral connections and dependencies; there
might be fome hopes of determining the
queftion with fome certainty from that
quarter. But as there can be no expecta-
tions thence, we must content ourſelves
with fuch light as plain facts, atteſted by
obfervation and experience, can afford;
and which may abundantly anſwer all thế
purpoſes, even of a perfect intuitive know-
ledge.
We will not ſtop to make remarks upon
the feveral kinds of motives; which are, or
may
CONSTITUTION, &c.
121
#
1
may be, juſt as numerous as the things we
have any connection with or dependence on;
which we have already taken fome notice
of; how fome directly affect the body, others
the mind, while there are fome likewife
that affect the whole fyftem. The weight
and moment of them all depends entirely
on the meaſure of pleafure or pain they
are capable of giving. The following facts
may fatisfy a modeft inquirer. And, in
the firſt place, we are ſure,
That no motive whatfoever has
any in-
fluence until it is perceived; nor any further
than the force of it is perceived; that is, un-
til it has made its impreffion. The thing
may be known in theory; but the differ-
ence is as great, as perceiving a fword at a
diſtance, and feeling it pierce one's body.
Hence, the ftrength or force of a motivę,
that is, its power to produce the defigned
effect, cannot be known, until the effect of
it is felt within; and that can never be
done, until the movements are at leaſt be-
gun, and the affections in fome degree
formed.
It is certain alfo, that no motive, or fet
of motives, operate equally on all men; nor
even on the fame man at different times,
VOL. I.
and
3
122
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
and in different fituations of mind, as we
commonly exprefs it, but only as the general
ſyſtem happens to be difpofed at the time.
For the fame reafon, it frequently hap-
pens, that the loweſt motives have their
full effect, when the higheſt and moſt no-
ble make no impreffion at all; fenfe is
for the moſt part too ftrong for reaſon;
prefent objects, though not able to bear a
compariſon in other refpects, are generally
preferred to fuch as are at a diſtance, either
in time or place.
It is notwithſtanding true, that everý
motive will fucceed, of whatfoever kind it
is, unleſs the force of it is deſtroyed, and
its operation marred, by contrary ones.
And, on the other fide, the operation of
any motive, however far advanced, may
be deftroyed by a contrary impreffion,
provided it is ftrong enough to excite a
contrary motive of equal or fuperior force.
From all which, and fuch other obferva-
tions, it will appear, that human liberty,
the true freedom of man, does not, can-
not, lie in his being exempted from
the influence of every motive; which
indced is a cafe that cannot poffibly hap-
pen. The firft perception ingroffes the
whole
CONSTITUTION, &c.
123
whole man; and certainly will keep pof-
feffion until driven out by another. And
however one may be indifferent to fome
things which do not affect him either way,
it is impoffible he can be fo upon the
whole; and by the prevailing impreffion,
whether from the mind or fenfes, he will
be determined. Perhaps a way of ſpeak-
ing which has prevailed much among
fcholaftic men, afcribing the will to the
mind as peculiarly its province, may have
mifled fome into the other conceit; which
will very quickly be deftroyed, by a re-
flection which every thing we meet with
will confirm, that the mind not only dwells
in the body, but acts by its powers.
Again, let the effects of the feveral mo-
tives be as certain and neceffary, as any,
or all, the laws of mechanifm can make
them; fo long as they are under the manage-
ment of an agent, who can balance the o-
verbearing powers of one with thofe of a
different kind, and even deftroy their ope-
ration altogether, by rejecting them, and
fubftituting others in their room, the free-
dom of the agent fuffers nothing at all;
and he is to all intents and purpofes an-
fiverable for every one of their effects, un-
Q2
lefs,
t
124
Eff. 11.
Of the HUMAN
lefs, after having ufed all means in his
power for fubduing the rebel affection, it
proves too ftrong for him, This, I be-
lieve, is a caſe that never happened with
inan; but, however, it points out to us the
proper inquiry for determining the que-
ftion, viz. How far the human powers,
and particularly the fovereignty of the
mind over the animal fyftem, extends?
And here, indeed, it will be found, that
in moft men it reaches but a fhort way:
not from any defect in the mind itſelf, or
of any of its natural powers; but for want
of due culture and improvement, and the
proper means and exercifes requifite to
raiſe it to that degree of ſtrength and acti-
vity, which is neceſſary for the effectual
diſcharge of the offices belonging to the
place it holds in the human conſtitution.
We obferved elſewhere, that, of all be-
ings within the compafs of our obſerva-
tion, the human conftitution is moſt capa-
ble of improvement; and what an im-
menſe odds there is between an infant, or
even a wild man, and a great genius cul-
tivated to the higheſt perfection. What
the Stoics afferted of their wife man, That
he only is free, and all the reft flaves, will
he
CONSTITUTION, &C.
125
be found to hold very certainly, however
it has been looked on as a paradox. In
all the lower degrees, fo long as the mind
is intangled and overpowered by the ani-
mal feelings, until it has the perfect com-
mand of the fyftem, and the whole man
is engaged, not only in the purſuit, but al-
fo the enjoyment of fuch pleaſures as per-
fect wiſdom will juſtify, there muſt be
ſomething amifs in the conſtitution; fome
rebellion fomented in the inferior powers;
fomething, in a word, the man cannot ap-
prove of; and therefore fome conſtraint,
bondage, or at leaſt fome defect of that
freedom and liberty which is neceffary to
conſtitute a perfect and a happy man.
Upon the whole, then, we may be able
to form fomething of a juft notion of the
human conftitution; and thence form a
true judgement of what is natural and un-
natural; words which have been fhame-
fully abuſed, to palliate, not only the fillieft
pleaſures, but fome of the moſt enormous
villanies. It may be juſtly enough reckon-
ed trifling to obſerve, that the conftitution
of
any thing is not any one part, however
effential, taken feparately; when it is fo c-
vident, that it takes in all the parts united;
and
126
ÉA. II:
Of the HUMAN
and united in that very order and fubor-
dination of one part to another, which
conſtitutes this peculiar order of beings,
and diftinguiſhes it from all the reft. But
is it not as trifling to fay, that any plea-
fure, or piece of human conduct, is natural,
becauſe it is agreeable to fomething that
belongs to the conſtitution, when it is ut-
terly inconſiſtent with the happineſs of the
whole, and directly oppofite to the natural
dictates and tendency of the moſt noble
part, and ſuch as the conſtitution requires
ſhould have the leading? However natu-
ral, therefore, it is, that mankind ſhould
be firft under the influence of animal im-
preffions, which will be found all of them
harmleſs, until the mind is or may be im-
proved into fuch meaſures of ftrength, as
to regulate and control them; it becomes
the moſt unnatural thing that can be well
imagined, for one to continue in a paffive
fubjection to them; as it would be, on
the other hand, for any to indulge them-
felves in what they take to be the proper
buſineſs of ſpirits, to the entire neglect of
the other effential part of their frame, and
without which they cannot be men, but
fome different kind of beings.
The
CONSTITUTION, &c.
127
The fame will hold throughout all the
degrees of advancement toward perfection;
as indeed they are beyond a poffibility of
being numbered with any exactneſs. The
moſt remarkable of them are marked out,
either by the objects which engage the af-
fections, or by the different kinds and de-
grees of the affections and paffions them-
felves. Thence are taken the characteristics
of the feveral claffes of mankind, accor-
ding as the feveral forts of animal plea-
fures, or thofe of the mental and fpiritual
kind, viz. fenfuality, luxury, ambition,
and covetoufnefs, on the one hand; or,
knowledge and learning, religion and de-
votion, on the other, happen, in the ſeveral
.degrees of each, to take the leading of the
man, and to influence his actions. To
reft in any of the lower meaſures, fhort
of that perfection which the conftitu-
tion admits of, and is fitted to rife up
to, muſt be in the fame degree unnatu-
ral: however juftly it may be called natų-
ral in another fenfe, as it denotes the courſe
and way which men moſt readily fall in-
to,, by the prevailing of the animal part
at their firſt fetting out in the world.
Hence likewife one may be enabled to
account for the many glaring incon-
fiftencies,
128
Éf.II.
Of the HUMAN
fiftencies, and even palpable contrarieties,
which are to be found, not only in differ-
ent men, but even in the ſame man in dif-
ferent circumſtances, as the animal or the
mind takes the direction; and likewife for
what is greatly more unaccountable, that
vanity and felf-approbation which are fo
very common among the lower claffes of
mankind, the native fpawn of ignorance
and inattention. The great variety of
contrary impreſſions from fo many diffe-
rent objects, muſt render man the moſt fic-
kle inconfiftent being, and at the fame
time the most miferable, haraffed and
torn afunder, as he is, by fuch a mul-
titude of different appetites and paffions.
Every change promifes relief, and feeds
his vanity, while he knows no better, with
the profpect of reft and fatisfaction at laſt;
and thus he goes on, until either death
cut him fhort in the unfiniſhed purfuit,
or, which is but a rare cafe, experience
and diſappointment drive him into juft
and proper fentiments, and fettle him in
the calm purfuit and enjoyment of the a-
dequate object of his happineſs; where
his reſtleffneſs and vanity receive a final
and full cure at the fame time.
And here it is, in the juftnefs of fenti-
ment,
✡
CONSTITUTION, &c.
129
ment, and in the perfect conqueſt of all the
powers of the animal life into a thorough
fubjection to the rational mind, that we
are to look for the true ſtandard of human
perfection, viz. fuch as the human confti-
tution will admit of, (which perhaps was
the meaning of thofe philofophers who
made the nature of the foul to confift in
harmony), when the whole complex ſyſtem
is perfectly united in a due fubordination
of all its parts, according to their feveral
degrees of dignity and uſefulneſs, and
formed into a regular and uniform courſe
of action; and the proper intereſts of eve-
ry part fecured in the general good of the
whole, and the enjoyment of its proper
life. This, it is evident, can never be
done, until fuch time as the ruling power
is fufficiently inftructed to give a fatisfying
decifion of the only important queftion that
lies before mankind, viz. What is that good in
the enjoyment of which man's true happinefs
lies? and how is it to be attained? and till
it give this deciſion with fuch evidence and
authority as fhall engage the heart, form
the fentiment, and thereby the whole
courſe of the affections upon it, ſo as every
other thing fhall be regulated and kept in
VOL. I.
R
its
130
Eff. II.
Of the HUMAN
its proper degree of fubordination by
it.
By this, then, we may be likewiſe ena-
bled to judge, what muſt be the proper
culture of fuch a being as man is; and
how he muſt be raiſed, if ever he is, to
his proper degree of perfection. There
are innumerable pretenders foliciting, all
of them promifing pleaſure and happineſs;
and the moſt worthleſs of them, as com-
monly happens, are the moſt importunate;
and, taking the advantage of our igno-
rance and prepoffeffion, make the moſt vi-
gorous attacks upon the heart, and com-
monly the moſt fuccefsful. On theſe, even
the leaſt and loweſt of them, the taſte and
ſentiment may be very ſtrongly formed.
Nothing less than a thorough acquaint-
ance with the whole fund of enjoyment,
or what one may call the materials of plea-
fure and happineſs, at leaſt the beſt and moſt
valuable of them, can enable the mind
to adjuſt the feveral pretenfions, to rectify
miſtakes and wrong fentiments, and to give
the preference where it is due. The only
way, then, to improve the mind, muſt be,
to increaſe its knowledge, by bringing un-
der its obfervation whatever may merit its
regard?
1
CONSTITUTION, &c.
131
regard. Every new object we have any
connection with, makes us fenfible of new
wants we were not at all fenfible of, enlarges
the capacity, and gives a taſte of pleaſure,
which we neither had nor could have before
we were acquainted with it. Every ſtep of
advancement, by opening and enlarging
the mind, prepares for another; and thus
keeping it continually on the progreſs,
prevents its fettling into, any ſuch habit
as ufually produces an obftinate bigotry;
which indeed would effectually put an end.
to all further improvement.
To trace then the rifing mind, from its
very low beginnings in the firſt fenfations,
when the poor creature is hardly conſcious
of its own being, through the great varie-
ty of external and internal impreffions and.
motives, from objects without, and the
workings of the active mind within; the
multitude of different movements, affec-
tions, and paffions, occafioned and produ-
ced by theſe, and the continual ftruggles
between the rational and animal powers;
to mark out the feveral fteps of improve-
ment and progrefs toward perfection; the
ftate of mind or fentiments peculiar to
each; how they are formed and altered,
R 2
until
132
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. EM.III.
1
until they arrive at the proper ſtate for ta-
king in and improving the higheſt enjoy-
ment: this is the proper employment of
man; and which will be found to com→
prehend all that is worth knowing.
ESSAY III.
Of Human Knowledge, its nature, extent,
and ufe.
K Nowledge
Nowledge is to the mind what light
is to the eye; and it is equally im-
poffible and needleſs to attempt a definition
of either. Thoſe who have experienced
'it, need none; and thofe who have not,"
cannot, by the moſt elaborate account that
can be given of it, ever be brought to any
conception of what it really is. It is in-
deed the inward light of the mind; and,
at the fame time that it makes every thing
vifible fo far as it reaches, infinuates itſelf
with a fecret, but moſt diſcernible, confci-
ouſneſs, enabling the man to order the
whole buſineſs of life with eaſe and plea-
fure,
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.
133
k
1
fure, which otherwife would all lie invol-
ved in darkneſs, confufion, and diforder.
When we ſpeak of human knowledge,
we muſt be underſtood to mean, not only
the meaſure and degree, but that particu-
lar kind of it, attained and managed in
fuch a manner, and by fuch means, as are
fuited to the conftitution and make of a
being fo circumftanced; and defigned by
the great creator to anſwer fuch purpoſes;
and by which he is diftinguiſhed from all
other beings, both above and below him.
No body looks for vegetation in a ſtone,
nor local motion in a plant or tree; from
the moſt perfect mere animal, we do not
expect thought or reflection: every jot as
unreaſonable it is, to imagine man fhould
underſtand, and act, in the fame manner that
fpirits exempt from matter do; or, if there
are any fuch, that act in bodies of a more
fubtile contexture, or organs different from
ours. Every created being is confined to
certain bounds, which it cannot paſs over
without ceafing to be what it is, and en-
tering into another order; and to thefe all
the exerciſes, even of its moſt noble powers,
muſt be limited.
And yet no being whatſoever, and man
leaft
}
1
134
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. Eff. III.
५
leaft of all, has any reafon to complain,
unleſs he is difpleafed that he was not
made an angel: and had he been fo,
on the fame grounds he would have the
fame reaſon to complain, that he was not
made a god. His prefent frame, capacity,
and powers, are all fuited to his fituation,
and the place he holds in the univerſe, with
the purpoſes he is deſigned to anfwer there.
Were his body more fubtile, his fenfes
more acute, or even his mind more de-
tached from his body, and independent
on its influence, one may be very fure he
would lofe greatly more than he could
gain, and become fo much leſs able to
bear his preſent place of refidence. As he
is, he is fitted to anfwer all the purpoſes
of life, and is completely provided, in the
due ufe of the powers he has, for attaining
fuch meaſures of knowledge, and thereby
rifing up to a ſtate of fuch dignity, as ſhall
fet the higheſt order of created beings very
much below his envy
But as the whole of his fuccefs depends
on the right improvement of the powers
he is endowed with, it muſt be of great
moment to be well acquainted with the na-
ture and extent of thefe powers, that he
may
neither
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.
135
neither ſpend his ftrength in fruitleſs
ſtretches after what is beyond his reach,
nor ftop fhort of his allotted perfection,
by indulging an indolent defpondency;
both equally unnatural, and prejudicial to
the conſtitution. This we cannot pretend
to make any judgement of, without con-
fidering fomewhat the objects we have to
deal with; the feveral ways by which we
do, or may, become acquainted with
them; and how far they may, in fuch
views as man can attain of them, be im-
proved for anſwering the higheſt and moſt
valuable purpoſes in life.
The objects of human knowledge are
really paſt numbering, if they may not
be called infinite; as they include every
thing that can by any means be brought
under our obſervation, till we afcend even
to the immenſity of the original being; fo
that to give any tolerable account of them,
may, to an uncultivated mind, feem quite
impracticable: and this perhaps is the rea-
fon, why the bulk of mankind never fo
much as attempt to reduce the objects of
their thoughts into any tolerable order,
but take them at random, as they happen
to caft up, or as their prefent occaſions re-
quire. By this means, the mind, intangled
as
136 Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. Eff.III.
as it is in inextricable confufion, becomes
utterly incapable of any regular improve-
ment, and lofes all the advantage that might
be made of what lies fo fairly before it.
This fort of confufion is the more inex-
cufable, that things are not thrown before
us in a confufed huddle or random heap,
but difpofed by their all-wife former into
the exacteſt and moſt beautiful order, dif-
tributed into certain ranks and claffes; fo
that however innumerable, and beyond
human comprehenfion, the individuals
may be, yet one may with great eaſe, and
without any uncommon meaſures, either
of fagacity or application, attain fuch dif
tinct views, as may anſwer all the purpoſes
of human life.
We have already had occafion to obferve,
how the whole univerfe of beings may be
reduced under two great diviſions, viz. fuch
as are purely paffive, and cannot ſo much
as move, much lefs act, in the loweft de-
gree, but as they are moved or impelled,
nor in any other manner than that im-
pulfe directs them; and fuch as are ca-
pable of beginning, continuing, varying,
and directing both thought and motion
at pleaſure, ſo far as their powers go. The
firft
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.
137
firſt we call matter, the other ſpirit; which
are commonly, and not without fome
foundation, conceived and fpoke of as
two diftinct worlds, the material and Spiri-
tual. Between theſe, and compounded
of both, as they are united in man, we
obferved the rife of another, diftinct
from both, and of a conſtitution entirely
different from either of them taken fepa-
rately, which is well known under the
names of the rational or moral world, and
ought by no means to be confounded with
either of the other two.
The external material world, as it is the
proper object of that fort of knowledge
which is taken in by the external fenfes,
is moft early obferved; and the animal
part of the man is fo framed, that as it
cannot fubfift a moment but by the affift-
ance of fome portions of it; fo, where the
fenfes are entire, it is impoffible that it can
long eſcape his notice: though at the fame
time it will readily be allowed, that many
parts of it lie too remote, and much of
that which lies neareft us, is too minute and
fubtile, for human obfervation: but thofe
which are obferved do in a manner ingrofs.
the whole attention of mankind.
VOL. I.
S
The
138 Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. Eff. III.
The whole univerſe of matter is again di-
vided obviouſly into two parts; the heavens
and the earth; very unequal indeed in
themſelves, but not ſo much ſo to us, who
being confined to this earth as our habita-
tion, have almoſt all our buſineſs here,
What can be of real ufe to us in the remo-
teſt part of the heavens, lies obvious e-
nough to obfervation; and accordingly
has been improved, and probably may be
yet more, for anfwering divers valuable
purpoſes but as man was never defigned
to be either a maker or governor of worlds,
he can fuffer no lofs by having the ſecret
mechaniſm of the heavens hid from him.
Nor is it any wonder it ſhould, when the
animal mechaniſm of his own conftitution
is fo much fo. It is earth, fire, air, and
water, that man has moſt to do with,
which lie all at hand; and this per-
haps was the true reafon why the men
who called themfelves philofophers, in for-
mer times, made thefe the elements of all
material bodies. The general divifion
into animals, vegetables, and dead mat-
ter, is as obvious. The feveral kinds of
animals, inhabitants of earth, air, and
water; the different tribes of plants and
trees;
1
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.
139
{
trees; the ſeveral ſpecies of earths, ftones,
minerals, &c. with their feveral uſes, make
the ſubject of the moſt uſeful, as well as
entertaining, ſtudy, viz. that of natural
hiſtory.
The world of fpirits will be acknowled-
ged, by all who believe there are any ſpi-
rits, to be as much above the moſt refined,
and curiouſly organized matter, as active
power, a power
a power to excite and modify
thought and motion, and to conduct both
with counſel and defign, is preferable to
the fineſt machinery; nay, as the great
creator and former of all things is prefer-
able to his own work. Thoſe neareſt us,
and which every man has the beſt, and
indeed the only immediate acquaintance
with, are our own minds, the ſpirit which
every man has within him: and however,
by that vail of fleſh which every man car-
ries about him, he is cut off from all di-
rect and immediate communion with all
the other orders of fpirits, and cloſely
connected with the material world; yet is
he not confined there, but has a way left
him by which he may attain the know-
ledge and acquaintance even of the Father
of fpirits; and thereby acquire a capacity
and
S 3
140
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. Eff.III.
and fitnefs for another way of living,
without that dependence on ſenſe and bo-
dily feeling, which we have in our preſent
ſtate, for the moſt ſpiritual parts of our
knowledge and enjoyments.
The mixed world we mentioned, made
up of the actions and paffions of fpirits
dwelling in fleſh, is the great, and in ef-
fect the only, medium, by which one can
be enabled to attain this excellent ſtate of
life. It is indeed a kind of low image,
that is, an image fuited to our preſent low
condition, of the ſtate of the ſpiritual world;
and as it may be, and in fact frequently
is, entirely detached from it, or, which
is the fame thing, from him who is the
fubftance of it, the great author and pro-
prietor of all things, it is properly a world
of man's making and managing, and made
up
of an almoſt infinite variety of parts.
For though all men are originally of the
fame make and conftitution; yet as, among
the whole multitude of them, there are
hardly found two whofe features, fhape,
and complexion, are exactly alike; fo the
difference of tempers, genius, way of li-
ving, ſtations, and worldly circumſtances,
of affections, paffions, powers of body or
mind,
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.
141
mind, manners, cuſtoms, and habits, &c.
is yet more various. The feveral inven-
tions of men, manual crafts, arts, fcien-
ces, forming and managing focieties, great
and ſmall, afford matter of endleſs ſpecu-
lation; and the more neceffary, that there
is hardly any one thing, however enormous,
or however trifling, which may not be im-
proved to lead forward the mind to the
higheſt and moſt valuable knowledge, and
thereby to that perfection and happineſs
which it is fo much its intereft to purſue.
Among all thofe numerous particulars
which compofe thefe diftinct worlds, there
is not any one falls under man's obferva-
tion, which does not at the fame time put
him upon a variety of inquiries about it:
How far it reſembles, or differs from, fuch
other things as he is acquainted with; how
it ftands related to them in place, or with re-
ſpect to proximity or diftance; if it is de-
pendent on any of them, or entirely detached
from them; what properties or powers it is
poffeffed of; whether peculiar to itſelf, or in
common with others; fuch as cannot be fe-
parated without deſtroying its conſtitution.,
or ſo looſe and adventitious, that their ab-
fence or preſence makes no alteration there;
what
142
OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. ET. III.
Of
what effects are produced by its different
applications to other things, and eſpecial-
ly to one's felf, whether for ſuſtenance,
improvement, or actual pleaſure; and how
it comes by fuch properties and powers:
in a word, whatever one can want infor-
mation of, or about which a queſtion can
be put, or any doubt moved, are all of
them proper objects of knowledge. All
theſe, and the particular inquiries that
may be made concerning them, will be
better underſtood by confidering the feve
ral-ways and means by which they are
brought under our obſervation and per-
ception. Whatever lies beyond, goes for
nothing, and can no more anſwer any
purpoſe to us, than what has no being at
all.
We may, I think, take it for granted,
from what we had occafion to obferve on
the human conſtitution, that the mind is
fo far from being originally provided with
any fund of knowledge, either ideas, as
they are called, or principles, that it can-
not fo much as be confcious of its own
being, until the impreffions made on the
appropriated parts of the animal fyftem ex-
cite the correfpondent perceptions: and
there
4
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.
143
there we
*
uft fix the rife and foundation
of all real knowledge, through all the ſteps
and degrees of it, up to the higheſt and
moſt ſublime that can be attained by man.
And whatever cannot, by proper and imme-
diate connections, be traced back to this
fource, and unleſs the impreffion and per-
ception can be produced on which it was
founded, we may boldly pronounce that it is
fantaſtic and delufive: as, on the other
hand, whofoever will make a juſt eſtimate
of human knowledge, muft begin where
nature does, and carefully mark out every
ſtep that is taken in the progrefs, without
ever lofing fight of the very low beginnings
whence the higheſt flights muſt be taken.
As this, then, muſt be allowed a funda-
mental pofition, That man can know no¬
thing but what has fome how or other been
brought under his obfervation, nor any fur
ther, nor in any other manner,
other manner, than it has
been brought under it; fo, on the other hand,
by whatſoever means we can be enabled
to perceive any kind of being, or any par-
ticulars about it, ſo far our knowledge may
go. But as there are very different ways
of doing this, according to the different
nature and conftitution of the objects we
deal
144
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. Eff.III.
deal with; and all the views and means
muſt be ſuch as fuit our conftitution, and
are within the reach of thoſe powers and
organs the author of them has given us;
the meaſures and degrees of our knowledge
muſt be very different, and fome things
muft lie quite beyond our reach.
The first objects that fall under obferva-
tion are fuch as are neceffary for the fup-
port of the animal fyftem; and it is fome
time before the child regards any thing
elſe: ſuch as affect the eye with their glit-
tering appearance are commonly the next;
fuch as give pleafure, either by relieving
fome little felt uneafinefs, or otherwife di-
verting, make great impreffions; and ſuch
likewiſe as give fenfible pain. Theſe have
quickly their native effect, make the cor-
refpondent movements, and thereby en-
gage the whole attention, and make the
whole bufinefs of the little creature. As he
comes to be acquainted with more objects,
eſpecially the actions and ways of men, he
more fully exerts his natural talent of imi-
tation, and attempts to make out a fort
of images of every thing he fees, until by
degrees the mind and body ripen together
into a capacity for the common and pecu-
liar
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.
145
1
liar buſineſs and enjoyments of the human
life. Theſe are children, one will fay,
and their whole conduct is engaged in
childiſh things; what is that to philofophers
and wife men? It is true; but in them,
and perhaps in them only, is human nature
to be feen unſophiſticated and undiſguiſed;
and the greateſt and wifeft man, however
his acquaintance with things must be great-
er, and thereby the circle, both of his plea-
fures and buſineſs, enlarged; yet if he acts
naturally, he proceeds exactly on the fame
plan, the fame natural principles, and the
fame method of procedure.
This uniformity of procedure is found-
ed on fomething in the human conftitu-
tion, which deferves to be carefully no-
ted, and kept continually in view, viz.
That all the natural functions of the uni-
ted human ſyſtem are strictly neceffary,
fuch as the man has no more power, ei-
ther to hinder or forward, than he has o-
ver his own conftitution. He may contri-
bute much either to cheriſh or to deſtroy it,
and thereby may render the exercife of its
feveral functions more vigorous or lan-
guifhing; but fo long as the conflitution
ſtands, it will affect and be affected, re-
VOL. I.
ceive
T
146 Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. Eff. III.
>
ceive and make impreffions and impulfes,
in the fame natural and neceffary manner,
that we fee what we call the feveral in-
ftincts of birds and beafts lead each kind
into the fame uniform invariablecourſe; that
is, according to their feveral conſtitutions,
and the influence of the general mechaniſm
of the heavens.
That all the animal functions in man are
thus even and uniform, common experience,
as well as the reafon of the thing, makes al-
together undeniable. The feveral external
fenfcs receive each of them their appro-
priated impreffions; the eye can no more be
reftrained from feeing, nor the ear from
hearing, on the application of their proper
objects than the ftomach, and appropriated
parts, can be controlled in digefting and dif-
tributing the proper aliment. It is the
fame in all the other impreffions on the fe-
veral parts of the body rightly diſpoſed;
cach of them will make its proper movement;
and all of them will have their correfpondent
feelings and perceptions, which the ſtrongeſt
and moſt active mind cannot help being
confcious of, unlefs, perhaps, in fome few
cafes, where the organs and immediate in-
truments or means of perception are in-
tenfely
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.
*
147
tenfely engaged in other employments;
and according to the meaſure and degree
of the feeling and perception, the man
muft mind them; that is, judge of them,
and remember them, whether he will or
not. Not as if a man minded and regiſter-
ed in his memory every perception alike;
but according to the force of the impref-
fion, and the meaſure of pleaſure or pain,
they will every one of them command their
proper room and regard there.
And hence, I imagine, we may be ena-
bled to make fome tolerably conſiſtent ac-
count of that common, yet very myfte-
rious, thing, which goes under the name
of belief, or believing; well known to every
body, but which has been found, by the
very different accounts of it, to be under-
flood but by very few. All are agreed,
and experience determines the agreement
to be juſt, that it is no more in one's power
to believe or not, in any queftion before
him, than it is to fecl, or not to feel, the
impulfes of external objects, and the im-
preffions made by them on the animal fy-
ftem: and fo it must be, for this good rea-
fon, that belief is nothing elfe but that
ftate of mind, or more properly of the
T 7 2
whole
148 Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. Eff. III.
}
whole united fyftem, which is the natural
refult of all the impreffions, perceptions,
and confequential movements, internal and
external, laid together. As the original
impreffions are not only different, but of-
ten contrary to one another, where mat-
ters are regularly and orderly carried, theſe
muſt all be compared and adjuſted by the
ruling mind, and a new impreffion raade
on the inward fenfe, bringing the whole
ſyſtem to agree in one, even, uniform move-
ment; which is the true occafion of that
inward pleaſure and fatisfaction which
men feel on the clear difcovery of truth, on
being fettled in a firm belief of it; eſpecial-
ly after having been confufed and diftract-
ed by contrary impreffions and feelings.
I faid, belief was more properly expreff-
ed by the ſtate of the whole united ſyſtem,
than by that of the mind, to obviate what,
I apprehend, is a mistake, which has
brought along with it fome very bad con-
fequences, viz. that believing is an act of
the pure intellect; which feems naturally
to infer, that the animal fyftem has no
fhare in it. This is fo far from being true,
that, whatever may be the ſtate of the hu-
man foul when feparated from the body,
•
fo
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.
149
fo long as the union continues, there nei-
ther is, nor can be, any fingle action of a-
ny kind, exerted by the moſt abſtracted
and ſpeculative mind, without either the
influence or concurrence of all the effential
parts of the ſyſtem. It is true, a man may
opine, and in his calm moments, that is,
when he is free from paffionate feelings, may
perfuade himſelf there is reafon on one
fide, and perhaps that he really believes
the thing; but until the impreffions are
ftrong enough to engage the heart, and to
raife and maintain fuch movements in the
animal fyftem, as overpower all contrary
ones, and reconcile the whole man to all
the known confequences of it, he never
will believe.
And hence one may adjust the meaning
of theſe common expreffions of rational and
unreaſonable faith or belief; and when it
can be faid to be either the one or the o-
ther; which are not fo to be underſtood as if
reaſon, or, if one pleaſes, the mind, on the
appearance of good reaſon, could at all
times command belief at pleaſure, or yet
that a man could ever believe any thing
while reafon appears againſt it; but it ve-
ry frequently happens that man acts with-
out
150 Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. EM.III.
I
out any regard to belief at all; very fre-
quently with a fort of half belief, and often
in a direct oppofition to belief. In all theſe
cafes, and, perhaps, thefe will take in the
whole of moft mens actions, the mind is
in a manner wholly paffive, and forced to
give way to the tumultuous or irregular
movements of the animal fyftem. But
there are a number of cafes, wherein the
mind, not being thoroughly informed, is
either feduced by appearances, or bribed in-
to the party by prefent pleaſure; in which
cafe commonly what is wanting in juſt
reafon to found a firm belief, is abundant-
ly ſupplied by ſtiffneſs and obftinacy; and
as the paffions are there thoroughly enga-
ged, and have got the command of the
whole fyſtem, reafon is entirely loft on
them, and can make no impreffion, until
the violent paffionate movements are fome
how abated, or turned into another chan-
nel. Nor can belief ever be called ratio-
nal, until the whole man, and every
movement of the fyftem, is formed on
the truth of things, and every power
regulated by the juft decifions and confe-
quential impreffions of the well-informed
mind. But until the mind is thoroughly
informed,
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.
151
informed, or, which is the fame thing,
has perceived and balanced every impref-
fion from objects without, in which the
man, or the queftion in view, has any con-
cern, and has frength enough to make a
new impreffion and fuitable movements
and feelings in the general fyftem, he will
either float in a wavering uncertainty, or
the ruling paffion or movements which
have the afcendant, will create belief fuch
as it is; and yet fo ftubborn, as hardly to
leave room for the leaft feelings of remorfe,
or any contrary movement.
From all this it will appear, that what
we call belief, and, in one view of it, faith,
ftands much on the fame bottom with o-
ther habits or cufloms commonly acknow-
ledged to be fuch. But then there will
likewiſe be found a very great odds. Both
are founded in certain conftant and conti-
nued movements in the fyftem; but belief
conſiſts in ſuch as are purely and properly
natural, and arifing fo directly from the con-
ftitution, that the nearer that approaches
its true and regular pitch, fo much ſtrong-
er and irefiſtible thefe impreffions and
movements are, which create that kind at
leaft of it which is regular and genuine, and
which
152
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. Eff. III.
which only deferves the name; whereas all
other habits are acquired by repeated acts;
and fo far as they are inconſiſtent with
thofe movements and feelings which con-
ſtitute right belief, will be deſtroyed and
rooted out by the perfection of the confti-
tution, and cannot fubfiſt any longer than
they are fupported by ignorance, error,
and folly. Cuſtom is, indeed, with great
juſtice, called a fecond nature; but ftill it is
no more; and to confound it with what is
the direct and immediate refult of the con-
ſtitution, is ſo to confound all things, that
one ſhall not be able to fay one thing is
more natural or unnatural, truer or falfer,
than another.
By this likewife we may be able to judge
what that evidence is which is the ground
of all right belief, and whence it is that
it ſhould appear fo differently to different
perfons. As the impreffions made by the
fame objects are more ftrong or faint, the
perception of them muſt be ſo likewiſe ;
and therefore juft fo far as any thing can
be brought under one's obfervation, no
matter by what means, fo much evidence
there will be. And as the means of per-
ception, or by which any thing is brought
under
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.
153
事
​under obfervation, are various and diverfe,
and all do not affect the conftitution with
the ſame ſtrength and vigour, thence arife
different kinds and degrees of evidence;
and confequently of belief, perfuafion, or
afſurance, in the fame proportion.
Man is fo made, that no material thing
can be brought under his obfervation, nor
can he have any perception of matter, but
by the mediation of his bodily organs,
which go under the name of fenfes; and
juſt as many ways as matter, or any part
or parcels of it, can be applied to theſe, fo
many different means or mediums of per-
ception will he have. They are common-
ly reduced to five, or rather four of them
only have particular names, while all the
reft, which are vaftly numerous, and ma-
of them as different from one another
as theſe, are left under the general name
of feelings or fenfations, diſtinguiſhed on-
ly by their effects on the body, as pleafu-
rable or painful, and as they affect the
feveral parts of it external or internal;
whence they take their particular deno-
minations. Hence, even on this curfory
view, it will appear, that it is not the ob-
jects themſelves, much leſs the ſubſtance
VOL. I.
ny
U
or
154
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. Eff.III.
or inward effence of them, that we per-
ceive, at leaſt in the firſt inſtance; but the
impreffions they make, or rather the feel-
ings occafioned by the feveral motions of
the animal fyſtem; by which the mind is
at once excited, and furniſhed with the
means of making and obtaining further
knowledge of them, and thereby making
further advances in all neceffary and ufe-
ful knowledge.
It requires ſcarce any attention at all to
fatisfy one, that all the feelings which
go under that general nafne in the feveral
parts of the body, are no more than the na-
tural and neceſſary confequences and effects
of the different applications that are made
to them of the different parts of matter about
us; and all the knowledge we can thereby
have of them is no more than this, How
they affect fuch a conftitution as ours?
It is true, we take occafion from theſe
feelings to mark the feveral parcels or fy-
ſtems of matter which occafion them; and
to diſtinguiſh them one from another, by
what we call their qualities, hot or cold,
hard or foft, &c. and fuch and fuch taftes
or fmells; while it is abundantly evident,
we can mean no more than that they ap-
pear
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.
155
pear fo to us, and make fuch impreffions
on the animal fyftem; while at the fame
time they would appear quite otherwife
to beings of a different conftitution, as of
neceffity they muſt affect them in quite an-
other manner,
The perceptions we have of objects by
hearing or feeing, are yet more remote, as
the impreſſions are not made directly and
immediately on the appropriate organs,
but by the intervention of other parts of
matter, air and light; without which, all
the informations we receive by theſe fen-
ſes, and by which the greateſt part of our
knowledge is conveyed, would be entirely
loft; and, along with it, all the pleaſure
arifing from the beautiful colours, figures,
or arangement and poſition of material ob-
jects, and the wonderful variety of founds;
by which, not only objects are diſtinguiſh-
ed, and notice given of their nearnefs or
diſtance, but the greateft pleafures and
moſt valuable interefts of life are carried
'on.
By this natural view of the origin of
human knowledge, it will appear likewife,
that no object can be apprehended by one
fimple perception; but the feveral proper-
ties,
U 2
A
156 Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. Eff. III.
ties, or what we call powers and qualities,
perceived as they are by different means
and organs, muſt be firſt apprehended fe-
parately; and it requires judgement, as
well as obfervation and experience, to lay
them together with any exactnefs: and
as it frequently happens, that fome one or
other of them may be neglected or over-
looked, thence arifes at beft, imperfection,
and frequently confufion, in our know-
ledge, even of fuch things as lie neareſt
our hands; nor is there any thing in the
nature of thoſe qualities we have perceived
to lead us into the knowledge of any o-
ther qualities, until an opportunity offers
of their making fuch impreffions on us, or
on fomething which we have under our
eye, as obliges us to obferve them.
It is from this fuperficial way of jud-
ging by appearances, that a great number
of things, which might be of great uſe to
us, lie by neglected, and in a manner en-
tirely overlooked, fo foon as the fhort-li-
yed admiration raiſed by the first impref-
fions, is over. The colours, ſhape, bulk,
of almoſt any thing, will touch, perhaps
very fenfibly, while the object is new; but
will quickly be juftled out by impreffions
which
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.
157
which more vigorously affect us, and
which thereby appear to be of greater im-
portance to us; and according to the
ftrength and continuance of them, put the
man on further inquiries; how they ap-
pear in all the different views he is capa-
ble of taking them in; how they feel to
all the ſeveral fenfes, or parts of the body,
where the experiment can be made; how
they affect us in the feveral points of near-
nefs or diſtance; and what are the con-
fequences of the different
ways of apply-
ing them to other objects, either as they
ftand in nature, or may be applied by hu-
man fkill; their continuance and duration;
and how they may be preſerved and de-
ſtroyed; their powers increaſed or abated;
and thus, upon the whole, improved to
the beſt advantage. On theſe, and fuch
inquiries, is founded, not only the whole
practice of agriculture, and the manual
crafts, but all that is valuable in any
branch of knowledge whatfoever, the pro-
foundeſt ſcience, and deepeſt myſteries of
philofophy not excepted.
It is in theſe forts of reviews, and order-
ing and forting the feveral impreffions and
perceptions, that man remembers, that the
natural
}
158 Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. Eff. III.
natural power of imaging is exerted, which
is at once the great mean of promoting and
carrying on human knowledge, and gives
the true diſtinguiſhing characteriſtic of it;
that is, the knowledge of fuch beings as
have not, cannot have, any accefs to direct
immediate perceptions of the internal ef-
fence, fubftance, or conftitution of any
one thing in nature, even of fuch as are
neareſt at hand, and they are the moſt in-
timately acquainted with, their own minds
and ſpirits, and the matter about them.
There needs no laborious reafoning to
inſtruct the truth and certainty of this af-
fertion; there is a much nearer way, and
the only one which can carry conviction
in it, viz. that every one make the trial for
himſelf, in that which he fancies himſelf
beſt acquainted with. He will readily find
feveral diſtinct and fenfibly different per-
ceptions of the different ways he is affect-
ed by it, either feparately, or as it is con-
joined and united with fomething elſe;
and by carefully comparing, and laying
theſe together, he forms an image of, he
knows not what, invefted with properties
and powers, fuch as he has from time to
time perceived; and perhaps may be led on
to
A
159
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.
}
to image to himſelf the manner how theſe
effects may be produced. But ſtill it is
but an image, unleſs the thing itſelf can
be brought directly under his obſervation;
which, at leaft in our prefent ftate, we are
fure can never be done.
I faid, the man forms for himſelf an i-
mage or reprefentation of he knows not
what; not as if he was in any uncertainty,
whether the thing he means to image or re-
preſent to himſelf, has any real exiſtence;
the certain and infallible perception he has
of its appearances and impreffions, and what
he feels with the moſt intimate conſciouſneſs
following upon them, leave him no manner
of room to entertain any doubt about that:
but what the thing is in itſelf abfolutely
confidered, and how it would appear to a
being who could by one intuitive view fee
into its inward conftitution, the man can-
not fay. He knows, or may know, how it
affects himſelf in every circumftance; and
further he has no manner of concern with
it.
This is evidently the cafe in all our i-
deas, as they are called, of fubflances, or
particular beings, and of the feveral collec-
tions and combinations of them, as they
are
160
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. EIII;
are connected in their natural ſtate, or are
fo by human art and ſkill. They are all of
them no other than the images of things
we thus frame every man for himfelf; and
are as different as the feveral perceptions
of them, and the different ways of laying
them together, are in different perfons.
But this power of imaging ftops not here;
but by comparing, compounding, divi-
ding, increaſing, diminiſhing, and thus
endleſsly varying the original images, new
ones are framed, which never had, or per-
haps never will have, any exiſtence; and by
the affiftance of thefe, a fort of images are
formed, of ſuch things, as either by their
fubtilty, or remoteneſs, lie entirely out of
the reach of human obfervation. Of this fort
are all the invifible caufes of the feveral
alterations we obferve on the face of the
earth, throughout the different feafons of
the year; the whole buſineſs of vegetation,
production of animals great and finall, me-
tals,minerals,&c. Nay this power of imaging
has been often, and perhaps yet is, very un-
duly extended to the caufes and principles
of thought and motion, fuch beings as are
truly and properly fpiritual, yea even to
the Father of fpirits, the original being
himself;
Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.
161
himſelf; and is the true ſpring of all the
idolatry and image-worship that ever has
appeared in the world.
On the right management of this facul-
ty of imaging, the whole buſineſs of what
we call defign and contrivance in the ma-
nagement and conduct of life has its en-
tire dependence; and by the neglect of it
are occafioned, not only the reveries of
madmen, and the many fooliſh and im-
practicable projects by which multitudes.
have been ruined, but likewife all the mif-
carriages of common life, while the crea-
tures of fancy appear fo like realities, that
they impofe upon the unexperienced and
unwary with fuch powerful and pleafing
delufions, that it is the hardeſt thing in
the world to undeceive them, until it be
too late; that is, until dear-bought expe-
rience convince them they are impofed upon
by the creatures of their own fancy, and i-
mages which had no being but what
themſelves had given them through mif-
take and delufion.
And yet it is to this fame power of ma-
king images of things we never faw, that
the far greateſt part, even of our real and
moſt uſeful knowledge, owes its birth.
VOL.I.
X
Confined
162 Of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. Eff. III.
Confined as every man is to this earth, and
moſt men to a very narrow corner of it
there are but very few things that can fall
under any one's direct and immediate obfer-
vation, and this defect can only be ſupplied
by information and inftruction, whereby
all the obſervations that have been made
through the ſeveral ages of the world may
be communicated, fo as any one may make
his advantage of them; one of the peculiar
excellencies of mankind, and perhaps the
higheſt he has above other animals; the
higheſt, we may well fay, that any creature
of his make and conſtitution can boaſt
of.
ES-
ESSAYS
On feveral of the DOCTRINES of
REVELATION.
P
1. Propriety.
Ropriety of fentiment, and propriety
of action, are ſo nearly related, that
the one cannot be underſtood with-
out the other.
What action is, needs no defining. The
fame cannot be faid of fentiment. The
word is common, but not fo commonly
underſtood; neither can it be, without juſt
views of the human frame and conſtitu-
tion.
To attain this, it will not be enough to
fay, that this or the other affection, paf-
fion, or instinct, are found in all mankind,
unleſs it can be inftructed that they really
are fo; nor even then, unleſs it can be
fhown, how they naturally and neceffarily
arife out of the whole human conftitution
taken together.
X 2
This
164
Eff. 1.
PROPRIETY.
This is evident from a very obvious truth,
That man is a compounded being, and com-
pounded of very different parts; each of
them defigned to anfwer particular purpofes.
In their union, and fubordination one to
another, the human conftitution confifts.
And when the fentiments and actions are
exactly conformed to this eſtabliſhed order,
then, and then only, can they be faid to be
either natural or proper; and when any part
or particular fyftem breaks out of this order,
and attempts to act fingly, or beyond its
proper fphere, the fentiment formed upon
it, and the action produced by it, muſt be
improper and unnatural.
There are two very different ſenſes in
which any fentiment, or courfe of action,
may, with propriety, be faid to be natu-
ral; either when it refults fo directly from
the human conftitution, or is fo every way
agreeable to the order eſtabliſhed there,
that it can by no means be eradicated,
but is always found equally ſtrong in eve-
ry man, whatever alteration may be made
in his circumſtances or ſituation. And fuch
is the deſire of happineſs.
When the nature of happineſs comes to
be diftinctly underftood, it will be found
to
PROPRIETY.
165
to be, I do not fay pleaſure, but being per-
fectly pleaſed. And as mens taftes and fen-
timents vary, fo do their pleaſures. And
hence ariſe their different purfuits, while
their ultimate intentions are the fame.
Thefe fort of cravings and defires are
what they call instincts; like thoſe of mere
animals, all invariable.
It is not barely our life, nor even, ftrict-
ly ſpeaking, ourſelves, that by this inſtinct
we are influenced to love; but the com-
forts and enjoyments of life: and this may
be ſo ſtrong, that we may properly enough
be faid to love them better than ourſelves.
There is another courſe which may be
callęd natural, and which takes in every
thing, good or bad, which can by any
means get ſtrength enough to form the
heart upon them; and fome of theſe may
ariſe, ſo naturally, and without any pains
or labour of ours, that it may be doubted
whether they do not belong to the firſt.
That which bids faireſt, after the ani-
mal ſenſations and appetites, is Sympathy;
which, like all other paffions and affec-
tions, depends not on our will or plea-
fure. But as that, as well as all the reft,
depends entirely on the fentiments or in-
ward
166
Eff. 1.
PROPRIETY.
ward feelings of the heart; and as theſe
are very different in different men, and
formed upon the more or leſs perfect difpo-
fitions of the human ſyſtem, they can never
be reckoned among invariable inſtincts.
Where the fentiment is formed upon the
right difpofition of the complex human
fyſtem, it produces that agreeable temper
which is called humanity; and where it is
perfect, produces perfect fympathy. But
this is feldom or never found in the pre-
fent ſtate of mankind. We enter warmly
into the joys and forrows of thoſe we love;
to ſtrangers our fympathy is more cool;
and fuperftitious zeal entirely deftroys it:
and there are numberlefs well-known ca-
fes, where the fentiments may be wrought
up to fuch a pitch of brutal infenfibility
and favagenefs, as that the moſt excrucia-
ting tortures of our fellow-creatures give
the most exquifite pleafure. Upon the
whole, fympathy in all its forms will be
found to keep pace with our love to our
neighbour; and is either a certain modi-
fication of it, or a neceffary effect produced
by it.
No man can love or hate what or when
he will, or fo much as regulate the degree
of
}
PROPRIETY.
167
of either. He must love what pleaſes him,
and hate the contrary. And according to
the degrees of pleaſure or pain, fuch muft
his love or averfion be; and the degrees
are innumerable, but the fame neceffary
paffions in every degree.
But men as well as children may be
pleaſed with trifles. With thefe life be-
gins and however one object may drive
out another, it is but an exchange of tri-
fles, unleſs one could fix upon what is per-
fectly good; i. e. fuch as is fitted to give
perfect pleaſure: and thence it has been
the buſineſs of the wiſeſt men to find out
what they called the chief good, fuch as
could make one happy in the want, and
even in the lofs, of every thing elſe; i. e.
fuch as perfectly fuits the human confti-
tution, ſo as to raiſe and maintain perfect
pleaſure.
Of the two grand fects of ancient philo-
fophers, the Stoics took it too high, and
the Epicureans as much too low. The de-
fect of the firſt lay in not diſtinguiſhing
between abfolute and limited perfection
and happineſs; that is, fuch as the confti-
tution and circumſtances of the being who
wanted to be happy will admit of.
Being
168
Eff. 1.
PROPRIETY.
I
Being, or life, is but the fubftratum,
the fubject on which pleaſure or enjoy-
ment is grafted; and is not fimply good
or defirable for itſelf, but for the plea-
fure or enjoyment which may attend it.
But on the perfection of life the capacity
of enjoyment depends; and hence, fo long
as there is life there is hope.
I
2. The Knowledge of God.
Tis a true obfervation, that all that we
can be taught of God, fo long as the
evidence ftands only on metaphyfical rea-
foning, makes but a faint impreffion; and
that to fix and continue it, there is a ne-
ceffity for fuch an hiſtorical account of his
works and ways, as may exemplify to us
the powers and perfections which we are
taught to attribute to him. It is thus we
form the characters of men whom we have
never feen; and thus God himfelf hatlı
taught us to form our conceptions of him.
But when we form our characters of
•
men, we have an idea of a being well
known to us, and diftinguished from o-
thers by a particular name. There are
men
The KNOWLEDGE of GOD.
169
men who profefs to have as clear and dif-
tinct an idea of a fpirit as of any part of
matter. If any have fuch a talent, fure
every one has not. All that we know of
that fort of beings, muſt take its riſe from
what we feel in ourſelves, and the perfec-
tions and powers we are confcious of. We
feel that we think, in all the different
forms of it; and, to a certain degree, we can
do what we will. But what this fame ſpi-
rit or mind is which perceives, judges,
wills, and exerts thefe degrees of power,
we can conceive no farther, than that it is
not fuch a being as grofs fenfible matter;
and all our accounts of its effence, or of the
being which acts and poffeffes theſe known
properties, confift in negatives, immaterial,
invifible, &c.
Did we know what being and life are,
we might poffibly form fome fatisfying
conception, though nothing that could de-
ferve the name of an idea; and here we
are taught to fix our laſt reſource, by the
name that God hath chofen for himſelf,
and which diſtinguiſhes him from every
other being, JEHOVAH, which is beſt ren-
dered by, He that is,—the poffeffor and
proprietor of being; and, confequently,
VOL. I.
Y
of
170 The KNOWLEDGE of GOD.
Eff. 2.
of all meaſures and degrees of perfection.
The nearer we can raife our conceptions
to this, which always implies life, and all
its powers, the nearer will we approach to
right conceptions of that incomprehenſible
being, who hath condeſcended to give an
authentic hiſtory of his works and ways,
by which he hath difcovered himſelf to
us in his true character, and the perfections
which belong to him.
However we may be forced to appre-
hend the divine perfections ſeparately, or
in different views, they are all one in the
divine effence. Perfect being is perfect
power; and perfect power cannot be con-
ceived without abfolute perfection ſubſiſt-
ing in the moſt perfect manner.
F
3. Faith.
Aith, as it ſtands deſcribed and re-
commended in the Bible, is a firm
and affured confidence in God, founded
in the belief of the teftimony he has given
us in the hiſtory of the Bible; where we
have his true character, inſtructed by ſen-
fible documents, his works and ways with
men;
FAITH.
171
men; particularly in the provifion he has
made, and the comprehenfive promiſe and
grant he hath given, of eternal life.
This is rendered credible by the perfec-
of the pro-
tion, the faithfulneſs, and power, of the
mifer; but eſpecially by the pledge he has
given of his wonderful grace and love to
man in Jefus Chrift, who is the foundation
and furety of the promiſe.
This fecurity is recommended, as a good
ground of confidence, by the Spirit and
power of God, and all the fullness of life
being lodged in his hand; and as they ap-
pear to have been lodged there for this very
purpoſe, that he might convey the promiſed
bleffing, fpirit and life to us, this finiſhes
the affurance.
Hence it is obvious, that faith, or truſt
and confidence in God, muft begin at
Jefus Chrift, the fure, and the only fure,
foundation on which it can ftand. And
where faith in Chrift is, there naturally
and neceffarily our faith and hope in God
follow upon it.
Y 2
4. Views
172
Eff. 4.
VIEWS of God.
A
4. Views of God.
Mong all the difficulties we meet with
in the matters of religion, the great
one, and which lays a foundation for all
the reft, is forming proper apprehenſions of
the inviſible being. The character of God
we may, with fome fatisfaction, form, in
the fame manner in which we form the
characters of men, viz. by the reports we
hear of them; but thefe have little effect, un-
lefs verified to our obfervation by facts, that
is, by fuch works and ways as uniformly in- .
ſtruct the character. Thus we may form pro-
per conceptions of what are called divine at-
tributes, wiſdom, power, goodneſs, &c.;
and even ſomething of the immenſity of
his being and omniprefence: but after
all, theſe are but modes of being; and
though they make a general character, un-
lefs we have a determinate fubſtance or
perſon to connect them with, we are at a
lofs where to apply it. This has been the
foundation of all the miſapprehenfions of
the Deity; while men were driven either
to fancy him like themſelves, or to run into
confufion
1
VIEWS of GOD.
173
confufion inextricable, not knowing where
to find him, and worſhipping an unknown
God. This was in fome meaſure reme-
died to the ancient patriarchs by perſonal
appearances; but with this diſadvantage,
that theſe appearances gave a handle, ei-
ther to conceive of him as a man, however
diſtinguiſhed by extraordinary powers, or
made it hard to diſtinguiſh him from an or-
dinary angel; the creator from the creature.
This was in great meaſure remedied to
the old Ifraelites by the tabernacle and
temple, and the glory which appeared
there by which he was effectually diſtin-
guiſhed from every creature; and they
knew certainly where to find and apply to
him on every occafion.
:
But theſe were only ſhadows of heaven-
ly things and all difficulties are remo-
ved in Jefus Chrift alone. Though we can
form no proper conceptions of that God
whom no man hath feen, nor can fee; yet
we can eaſily conceive of his uniting him-
ſelf to man, as he has done in him: fo that
where-ever Jefus is, there we may be fure to
find God. And thus Chrift is at once the tem-
ple, and the prieſt interceffor, by whom, and
by whoſe miniſtry, we may at all times
approach
{
174
Eff. 5.
The ORIGINAL and
approach God in as diftinct a manner,
as if we faw him with our eyes, or he
were fenfibly prefent. For he that hath
feen the Son, hath ſeen the Father; and no
man can come unto God, or fo much as
know him to any purpoſe, but by him.
5. The Original and Progrefs of Knowledge.
Know not how it has been taken for
granted, that in the firſt ages of the
world men were no better than modern fava-
ges; and indeed great pains have been taken
to ſhow how they were gradually civilized
and poliſhed into the excellent beings they
are now found. That favages have been, and
ftill are, will admit of no difpute. But
from the beginning, we have good reaſon
to believe, that men were not fo. The poets
took the matter right; and they were the
greateſt and moſt learned men. All agree,
that in the beginning there was what is
called the Golden age: and there they image
fuch a ſtate of mankind as could never
have entered into a reaſonable man's head,
if a foundation had not been given by
fome old tradition handed down to them;
as
PROGRESS of KNOWLEDGE.
175
as the ſtate they deſcribe is almoſt as un-
natural as the fuppofition of men and other
animals riſing out of the mud of the Nile.
Mofes has given us the rife of this
tradition, and his account of the true
origin and original ſtate of mankind is
fo natural, that many, nay moſt learn-
ed men, have taken it for granted, that
natural reafon could have diſcovered it;
but contrary to all the reaſon and ex-
perience in the world. An experiment in-
deed could never be made, becauſe the
knowledge, or the tradition of the crea-
tion, and of God, who made all, has been
in the world fince ever there were men in
it, and ſubſiſted long by tradition before
there was any philofopher to reafon upon it.
It hath never been queftioned, that
all the wifdom of the firft ages confift-
ed in certain facts, handed down in the
natural channel of tradition, from one
age to another, which the conceited Greeks
called the barbaric philofophy; and which
their fucceffors, the moderns, have reject-
ed as no philofophy at all, becauſe it
ſtands not on rational arguments and de-
monſtrations, but only upon the authority
of thoſe who maintained the tradition,
which
176
Eff. 5.
The ORIGINAL and
which is rejected with diſdain, as unwor-
'thy of a philofopher.
It is a problem worth difcuffing, What
ſtate the world would be in if there were no
knowledge left in it but what ftands on
reafon and demonftration? As the know-
ledge of every fact which does not fall un-
der our own obfervation muſt be rejected,
and reaſon can diſcover none, there would
be very little left for the wifeft of men to
found their reafoning and demonſtration
upon, and the world would foon be funk
into the abyss of ignorance and barbarity.
How fuch a fooliſh poſition ever came
to get footing among men pretending to
reaſon, can be no way accounted for, but
by the enormous pride of thoſe who
called themſelves philofophers, and who, as
they pretended to diſcover the cauſes of
every event, deſpiſed the way of informa-
tion and tradition, to which the meaneſt
of the vulgar had as eafy accefs as the
moſt learned; which yet every one muſt ſee
is as natural, and greatly more fo, than what
they pretend to. And what makes this yet
more ſtrange is, that the far greateſt part e-
ven of their knowledge ſtood on facts, which
they
I
PROGRESS of KNOWLEDGE.
177
they neither did, nor could know any
thing of, but by tradition and information.
The Greeks originally had no know-
ledge among them but what they received
from the traditions they gathered up a-
mong other nations. It was many ages
downward ere they attempted to reafon
on theſe points. Travelling was their
courſe of education; and they who picked
up the beſt or moft authentic traditional
facts were called wife men. And by the ob-
fcure accounts we have of thefe traditions,
it appears, that there was more religion in
them, and of courfe more perfect morality,
than ever the philofophers could make out.
But difdaining to receive facts which they
could not account for, they tried to reafon
upon them, and reafoned themfelves and
their followers into the profoundeſt igno-
rance of God, and of what they had either
to hope or fear from him. And one who
is reckoned the wifeft among them, is
extolled to this day among philofophers,
for bringing down philoſophy from heaven
to earth; that is, for rejecting religion, and
the worſhip of God, and fetting up what
is called morality in its room.
Thus the primitive facts, and in them
VOL. I.
Ꮓ
all
$
178
EM. 6.
NOSCE TEIPSUM.
all that was worth knowing, was loſt; and
fo entirely, that the utmoſt efforts the great-
eſt geniuſes could make, inſtead of enlight-
ening, contributed only more to confound
and perplex the world, until the original
facts were again revived by the propaga-
tion of the gospel.
In the beginning of Christianity, this
was done in the plaineſt and ſimpleſt man-
ner, the gofpel confifting only in a few plain
facts, and their native confequences, which
needed neither learning nor genius, until
they fell into the hands of philofophers.
Then indeed, by their refining upon them,
they were ferved in the fame manner as
the original ones were by their predecef-
fors; and every fact, and every confe-
quence, must now be tried at the bar of
what philofophers call reaſon,
TH
6. Nofce teipfum,
HE knowledge of one's felf has been
in all ages the moſt neceffary, as
being of all others the moſt uſeful; in fo
inuch that it may be faid with a good de-
gree of affurance, that all the folly, mif-
carriages, and difafters of every kind, have
been
NOSCE TEIPSUM.
179
!
been owing, either to the want or imper-
fcction of it.
Many attempts have been made, ſome
on one part, fome on another, of what is
called human nature, or the frame and con-
flitution of mankind: and in the iffue, fome
have exalted it to fuch a meaſure of innate
dignity and worth, as fhould feem to come
little fhort of perfection, excepting only
the limitation they are forced to find in
point of power; while others, on this ne-
ceffary limitation, and the narrowneſs of
human powers in every view, have ſunk
man into a very abject and pitiable condi-
tion. Inftances enough are to be found
on both fides, and confequences charged
and retorted of a very intereſting nature:
And it will be hard to fay, though both
are dangerous, which of the two are moft
fo.
That enormous meafure of felf-esteem
naturally arifing from the flattering ſcheme,
is apt to betray the mind into a contempt,
and confequently an utter neglect, of the
abfolutely neceffary means of attaining
juft notions of fuch things as men are
moſt concerned to know. By this means,
they are betrayed into the moſt dangerous
miftakes,
Z 2
180
Eff. 6.
NOSCE TEIPSUM.
+
miſtakes, and a moft ruinous courfe of
folly. On the other hand, the moſt dan-
gerous confequence of taking our meaſures
too low, will be, the weakening that laud-
able ambition of excelling in every per-
fection; while, in the mean time, it leaves
the mind open to entertain all the inftruc-
tion and affiſtance that may offer them-
felves. So that one would think this laft
the much fafer, though the leaft fhowy
and agreeable view.
It might be expected, that a fubject, which
every one carries the original of in himſelf,
fhould neither be a very intricate, nor dif-
ficult ſtudy; that there fhould be no more
neceffary than to look into one's felf, to fee
how things ftand at home, and compare
them with what is to be obſerved in others.
But neither the one nor the other caft up
fo readily as one might reaſonably imagine.
We are generally fo much intereſted in
what lies without us, that we have neither
leifure nor inclination to look within: and
the ways of men, though all acting from
the fame original principle, are fo various,
that all the obfervation we can make of
them, and the experience we can acquire,
are found to go but a very fhort way.
We enter into this world we know not
how,
NOSCE TEIPSUM.
181
how, in fuch a low, indigent, and abfolutely
dependent ſtate, as is enough to hide pride
for ever from our eyes. All our attain-
ments and improvements come from with-
out, and are one way or other acquired;
fo that all we can call our own is a capa-
city of improvement, and of growing up
toward the higheſt meaſure of perfection
our frame will admit of. And when we
have acquired all that can be attained in a
natural way, little more can be ſaid, than
that we are made wiſer than the beaſts of
the field.
Our animal powers are plainly fhort of
many of theirs and though we find fome-
thing in ourſelves by which we can per-
ceive, think, and reafon, with a confciouf-
nefs of what we are about, which can only
be the work of what we have learned to call
a fpirit; yet we can hardly ftir a ſtep without
feeling the narrow extent of thefe intellec-
tual powers. Though we feel ourſelves
compounded of what we call matter and
Spirit, we know not, we cannot know, what
either of them is, how they are united,
and how they act upon one another in
fuch a perfect concert as we find they do.
This is another very humbling confidera-
tion;
182
Eff. 6.
NOSCE TEIPSUM.
tion; and which, one would think, fhould
effectually mortify the pride of human un-
derſtanding; efpecially when we look a-
bout us, and find ourſelves incapable of
arriving at the thorough knowledge of any
one thing, but only that fuch things there
are, and that fome of their moſt obvious
properties or powers are perceived by us.
When we come to what is the proper
ufe of reafon and underſtanding, which is,
to confider what is our proper buſineſs in
this world,-what man can carry it any
farther, (until he learns it from thoſe who
were in the world before him), than the
fatisfying his conftitutional cravings and
appetites; or acquiring what may be cal-
led an artificial way of living, by imitating
his elders; or being inſtructed by them in
what they call the miſtreſs-ſcience, the doc-
trine of morals; which indeed is, or may
be, very well calculated for a preſent world,
if they have only as much difcerning as to
know what is good and profitable for men?
But there is a very different kind of be-
ings, which fome how or other have been
obtruded upon all the world, to account
for the rife and original of which, when
ferioufly
NOSCE TEIPSUM.
183
ferioufly fet about, will be found a very
difficult talk.
That there are certain inviſible powers,
immenſely above the human, will readily
occur to any who has but an ordinary
degree of reflection. A reflection too will
as naturally occur, that we are at their
mercy; which cannot but produce a fort
of fuperftitious fear of we know not what,
and which we are very naturally led to
lodge in thoſe things which we obferve to
have the greateſt influence, the fun, moon,
and ftars, clouds, wind, &c. And if ever
there was a time when the powers of the
material heavens were underſtood, and
proper obſervations made on their natural
effects, mens worſhip and adoration was
like enough to reft there; and there it ap-
pears to have refted, until that valuable
piece of knowledge was loft, and men came
to worſhip, as a great part of the world do
even to this day, they know not what.
And hence very naturally ariſes the fairest
diſcovery that can be made of the weak-
nefs of the human intellectual powers.
There are but two ways of bringing it to
the trial; either by what they have done,
or by what they can, or may be rendered
capable
184
Eff. 6.
NOSCE TEIPSUM.
{
capable of doing. The laft has been re-
prefented as impoffible to bring to any
abfolute certainty; nor indeed is it need-
ful, fince the other, as we find it, gives,
if not demonſtration, yet very fatisfactory
evidence. It will readily be acknowledged
by impartial judges a very wrong way, to
take our meaſures from thoſe people who
have the Bible in their hands. It is only
in infants or untaught men that we are to
look for pure nature. All tradition muſt
be excluded. But we need not infift on
this precaution. If we take the world as
we find it, how many nations are there of
perfect favages, who yet have lived in fo-
ciety many thoufands of years? Sure their
natural powers must be very low, when in
all that time they could not find out how
to make their beft of what they had among
their hands.
But if we fhould allow that theſe are
hardly men; which yet is by no means
the cafe; for it is found that their capaci-
ties, when properly applied, are nothing
fhort of our own but fuppofing it to be
fo, how many nations have been, and
how many are there at this day, nothing
inferior to the moſt knowing and civilized,
fo
NOSCE TEIPSUM.
185
fo far as relates to a prefent life, and this
fenfible world, who yet, in all fpiritual and
religious refpects, are as ignorant and bru-
tiſh as the verieft favages? What conclu-
fion can carry more evidence than this,
that had mankind been left to themſelves,
they had never entertained a thought be-
yond the prefent ftate of things as they
appear to our fenfes? All beſides muſt have
been involved in impenetrable darkneſs.
But it will be objected, That all, even
the moſt barbarous and favage nations,
have fome notion of fuch a being as we
call God, and of fome ſtate of exiſtence be-
yond the grave; that there is a fubſtantial
difference between good and evil, right
and wrong, which we call virtue and vice;
and have accordingly a confcience accu-
fing or excufing. As to the laſt, it may
very well be; nor can it be otherwife when
they are capable of obferving what is
good and profitable to men. But as their
notions of this laſt have been, and muſt
be, very different, according to the differ-
ence of their fituations, the ſtandard
of virtue and vice must be very differ-
ent; and patriotifin, or national intereft,
VOL. I.
A a
generally
1
186
Eff. 6.
NOSCE TEIPSUM.
generally has fwallowed up all other vir-
tues.
As to their notions of the exiſtence of a
God, and of the worſhip and regard due to
the being they cailed fo, and their notions
of a future ftate, it cannot be doubted that
they have always been in the world; and
lo ftrongly rooted there, that the utmoſt
pitch of ignorance and barbarity have ne-
ver been able quite to eradicate them. But
then the queſtion will be, How they came
there? That human reafon and under-
ftanding never produced them, there is this
ftrong préfumption; that the worſhip, or
more properly the means of placating, or
preferving the favour of their deities, viz.
facrifices, is the greateſt abfurdity in the eye
of reaſon that can well be imagined, and
was exploded as fuch by the wifeſt philo-
fophers. And thence it will be obvious to
conclude, that the principle on which they
depended, viz. the knowledge of a fupreme
governor of the world, came likewife from
fome other quarter.
It is true indeed, beyond contradiction,
that man, with refpect to the whole both of
his principles and practice, is entirely form-
ed upon imitation and example, and really is
what
NOSCE TEIPSUM.
187
what cuftom and ufe have made him. And
this accounts well enough for that obfti-
nate tenacioufnefs which is fo generally
found among men, of even the moſt ab-
furd and glaringly unreaſonable opinions
and practices fo common among mankind;
and would account likewife for thefe rites,
fuppofing them once to have got general
footing. But then the queſtion will recur,
How they came there, and by what means
they obtained fuch a general concurrence,
and fuch authority as all the reafon and
philofophy in the world could not coun-
terbalance?
The only folution that can be given, is,
That they were believed to have been ap-
pointed by the deity whom they were to
worſhip. In fact, this was the cafe: But
how that perfuafion came to be fo general?
is another queſtion. Of whatever uſe the
belief of a fuperintending deity might be
to politicians and legiflators, this way of
worſhip could anfwer none. It fuppofes
the belief of fuch powers, and could never
take place without fome foundation in
truth.
This puts us again upon a further in-
quiry, How this belief came? I faid fome-
thing
A a 2
188
Ef. 6.
NOSCE TEIPSUM.
thing of a very natural riſe of ſome blind
belief of fupernatural or invifible powers.
But that could go no farther than it was
diſcovered and enforced by fenfible effects.
What lies beyond the reach of human per-
ception,' can never fall under human obfer-
vation; and men muſt have been well ad-
vanced in the art of reafoning, before they
could gather, from the eſtabliſhed order of
the univerfe, that it had an intelligent
caufe. But even when this point was gain-
ed, the difficulty remained, Where to lodge
this caufe? whether in the frame of nature,
or in fome fuperior being, who had the pro-
perty and difpofal of all? The laft lies fo very
remote from human obfervation, that we
find in fact the wifeft and moſt rational
reſted in the notion of fomething they call-
ed a Spirit pervading and influencing the
whole world, as our fouls do our whole frame.
But, then, whether this world, thus
furniſhed, ever had a beginning, i. e. was
made, or, as we call it, created; or fubfift-
ed as it is from eternity, remains to be de-
termined. Men muſt have been greatly
enlightened before fuch an inquiry entered
into their heads: and when it did, the far-
theft they could go was, to fuppofe that the
materials
NOSCE TEIPSUM.
189
materials were lying in what they called a
chaos, and that God and nature brought them
into this order. But that all was once no-
thing, could never be imagined; becauſe
they knew no power adequate to fuch an
effect as that of making any thing, much
lefs fuch an immenfe univerfe, out of no-
thing; eſpecially when there was no ap-
pearance of its having had a beginning, or
coming to an end.
And there mens knowledge ftopt fhort,
and their religion could go no farther; and
confequently wanted the only foundation on
which religion can ftand, as nothing befides
this can give the fupreme being that fove-
reign authority, without which the higheſt
deity can be no proper object of fupreme
worſhip and adoration. For unleſs all are his
abfolute property, he can have Lo right to
diſpoſe of them. Nor is it conceivable,
how abfolute property can be acquired but
by creation.
As to what they had either to hope or to
fear from this their imaginary deity, they
muſt have been, and all the Heathen actually
were, abfolutely at a lofs. But creation, once
admitted, a pretty confiftent and comprehen-
five fyftem of religion might have been form-
ed.
190
Eff. 7.
The BIBLE TEACHING,
ed. Yet until it was certainly proved, that
all things were the works of one intelligent
and fuperlatively wife being, no inferen-
ces could be made about his character.
And even then it muſt have remained a
moot point at beft, whether death did not
make a full end of the man? The ob-
vious prefumptions lie on the affirmative
fide; and all the arguments for a future
ſtate can never be made to rife fo high as
a fair probability; as might eafily be
fhewn. Nothing but a plain declaration
of the creator's mind can infure the mo-
mentous point.
1
7. The Bible way of teaching compared with
the Philofophical.
Hat reafon could never give any
What
account of, Mofes, even abſtract-
ing from the prophets and apoſtles, has
fet in the cleareft light; and that by
a method infinitely more proper for an-
fwering the end. For fhould we be even
fo enormouſly liberal, as to allow the phi-
lofophical arguments all the ftrength they
pretend to, they can be of no manner of
ufe
and the PHILOSOPHICAL.
191
ufe to the generality of mankind, unleſs
they were to take the philofopher's word
for the truth of his conclufions; which is
a fort of implicit faith no man has a right
to demand of his fellow-creatures: and even
the philofopher himſelf will find, that his
own belief laſts no longer than the force of
his demonftrations keeps warm upon his
mind; and even then the evidence is too fub-
tile to make an impreffion ſtrong enough to
exclude all the grounds of doubt on the o-
ther fide. Something groffer, and better
fuited to our perceptive powers, will be
found needful to eſtabliſh a firm perfuafion
of what lies beyond our fenfes and com-
mon obfervation.
Mofes has laid to our hands a fet of
palpable facts, which fully anſwer the pur-
pofe. If his firſt affertion, that God crea-
ted the heavens and the earth, ftartles our
underſtandings at firſt, and carries us quite
beyond the ſphere of human obſervation,
and, confequently, of human reafon; he
reconciles us to it, firft by dwelling upon
it, and making it familiar to us, by a de-
tail of the fix days creation, and particu-
larly the creation of man; and afterwards
inſtructs it by fuch fenfible facts as have
incomparably
192
Eff. 7.
The BIBLE TEACHING,
incomparably more weight than all the
metaphyfical demonftrations, though ten
times more and ftronger than they are,
can ever be made to have, by all the im-
provements they are capable of receiving.
The particular detail of the fix days
creation, and the manner in which the or-
der was eſtabliſhed, at once brings to our
obfervation a fort of power we were utter
ftrangers to; and is found to be the very
truth of, what philofophers have tortured
themſelves with gueffing at, the true fy-
ſtem, and the moving powers in this fy-
ſtem, we find ourſelves involved in.
The manner in which the order of the
univerſe was eſtabliſhed, has nothing in it
that ſhocks human reafon, unleſs it is the
aſtoniſhing eaſe with which it was effected,
viz. by a mere command or volition that
things fhould be ſo and fo. But when we find
that every thing is really fo as it was then
commanded or willed to be, this naturally
leads us to the conception of a power in-
finitely above what the moſt complete man
could ever have imagined; and, at the
fame time, a power which may eaſily be
fuppofed adequate to the creation of the
matter
and the PHILOSOPHICAL.
193
matter itſelf, which was with ſo much eaſe
digeſted into this beautiful fabrick.
The creation of man, the authority af-
fumed over him in his primæval ſtate, and
the confequences of it, even by the fhort
hints which are recorded, bring us yet.
nearer, and make creating power more
familiar to us; all which, we have good
reafon to think, were fully explained to,
and underſtood by, thoſe who were per-
fonally concerned in thofe tranfactions.
Eſpecially the fixing the permanent ſtate
of mankind by a judicial fentence, could
be done by none but the creator and abfo-
lute proprietor both of man, and of the
earth, on which he lived.
But mankind in the firft ages were the
fame foolish perverfe creatures they are
ftill: Though they had the ſtrongeſt docu-
ments in their firft father's cafe, that it
was impoffible for them, or indeed any
creature, to fubfift
any other way than by
the mere grace of their creator, and in an
abſolute refignation to his authority and
will; yet in a tract of time they came fool-
iſhly to neglect and forfake him; which gave
occafion to a fenfible demonſtration, that he
was indeed the creator and abfolute pro-
VOL. I.
B b
prietor
194
Eff. 7.
The BIBLE TEACHING,
}
prietor of them, and of the earth, which
they had imagined their own, by reducing
it to its primitive ſtate, (which could not be
done but by ſuſpending all the ſupporting
powers in nature), and by beginning a new
origination of mankind.
From the uſe of facrifices during this pe-
riod, which could never have entered into a-
ny one's head without a divine inſtitution, it
appears, that there was a revelation then fub-
fifting, nearly the fame with the Chriftian,
and a life beyond the grave brought to light.
This was fenfibly inſtructed, by the tranf-
lation of Enoch; and by what Noah prac-
tifed immediately after the flood, with the
promiſes given, or rather renewed, to him
on that occafion; eſpecially the fetting a-
fide the blood, as an atonement for their
lives and fouls, with the reafons then gi-
ven for it.
To fay nothing of the feparation of Abra-
ham and his feed, where he fhewed himſelf
abfolute fovereign, or of the deftruction of
Sodom by his immediate hand; the methods
he took with Pharaoh in Egypt to make that
proud monarch know JEHOVAH, where
all the powers of nature were controlled to
anfwer his purpoſe, effectually inſtruct, that
he
and the PHILOSOPHICAL.
195
he was indeed the creator, and confequently
the abfolute proprietor of heaven and earth.
To which might be added, the afloniſhing
manner in which the Ifraelites were brought
into the poffeffion of the land of Canaan,
the appearances he made in their favour,
and his conduct toward them all along to
the captivity. In their hiſtory we have
not only the fulleſt documents of a parti-
cular providence; but, in numerous in-
ftances, the exertion of a power fo fimilar
to that of creation, as leaves no room to
doubt of it.
And hence we find the prophets, in his
name, always making God and the crea-
tor fynonymous terms; and the God of If-
rael proving himſelf the only true God, by
his being creator; and his being creator, by
declaring not only what was paſt, but like-
wife what was to come; which we may
fay, with affurance, could not be done,
unleſs he had the direction of all in his
own hands.
It is from theſe plain facts that the di-
vine character is adjuſted in the facred
writings, and his perfections deduced and
inftructed, in the fimpleſt and eaſieſt man-
Bb 2
ner,
196 The character of the CREATOR, Eff. 8.
ner, perfectly level to the very meaneſt ca-
pacities,
8. The character of the Deity as Creator, and
the state of the creature arifing from it.
T
Hough the inviſible God can by no
means be perceived by men, until
he manifefts himſelf by fuch works and
ways as can fall under our obfervation,
nor any farther than he thus manifefts
himfelf; yet fo far as we can be fure that
fuch works are really his, we may thence
gather as much of his real character as is
difcovered in them, in the fame manner
as we form the characters of men by their
works and ways. And when he is once
known to be the creator of all, and that
the ftupendous frame of this univerfe was
raifed by him out of nothing; that is,
without any matter to work upon, or in-
ſtruments to work by; we have the high-
eft demonſtration of almighty power that
can poffibly be imagined. But this muſt
have appeared impoffible to every created
mind; as it did to the wifeft of the an-
cient philofophers, and muſt have done fo
to
and the ſtate of the CREATURE. 197
to all their fucceffors, had not their minds
been opened and enlightened, as they now
are, by analogous facts recorded in the
moſt authentic and beft-vouched hiſtory
that ever was written. For though it may
be pretended, that the creation of a finite
world will not be a proper evidence of in-
finite power; yet it is a ſtrong prefump-
tion, that there is nothing impoffible with
God: and befides, as there is nothing in
being but what he brought into exiſtence,
there can be nothing to limit his powers,
but his own perfect wiſdom and under-
ftanding; by which he must know per-
fectly what is fit and proper to be done.
I fay, his perfect wifdom and under-
ftanding, which must bear an exact pro-
portion to his power. Every defect is an
imperfection; and every imperfection im-
plies a limitation; and confequently a de-
fect of power: fo that, in truth, whatever
fome minute philofophers have furmiſed
to the contrary, perfect power carries in it
abfolute perfection of every kind. Nor
can it be otherwife: For there is nothing
knowable but himſelf, and the things which
he hath made. None who believes the
creator to be an intelligent being, can
fufpect
198 The character of the CREATOR, Eff. 8.
fufpect his want of a perfect knowledge of
himſelf, and his own perfections and powers:
and fure he must have the moſt perfect and
thorough knowledge of what himſelf hath
made.
In this comprehenfive knowledge is
founded what we call wisdom; which in-
deed is no more but the knowledge of what
is fit and proper to be done; or, what are
the beſt and moſt excellent defigns, and
the fittest and moft proper means for effect-
ing them. There have been a ſet of men,
who, in the pride of what they call philo-
fophy, have boldly taken upon them to
chalk out the meafures of divine wifdom,
and to define pofitively what the creator may
or may not do; and if their meaſures are
not preciſely obferved, to give names to his
conduct not fit to be repeated. The fum
of all comes to this: That were the creator
no wiſer, and knew no better, than they,
he would think and act as they imagine he
fhould. And pitiable indeed would the
world be under fuch direction.
But we are not left to the imaginations
of men in forming our conceptions of di-
vine wiſdom. We have it fairly fet before
us in the frame of this fenfible univerſe;
and,
and the ſtate of the CREATURE.
199
and, by the work, may judge of him who
wrought it. But how little can we make
of it? Some of the grofs outlines which
fall under our obfervation, the wonderful
mechaniſm of vegetable and animal bodies,
and much more the ftupendous mecha-
nifm of the heavens, under the influence
of which all is managed and directed, have
ftrangely raiſed the pride of philoſophy :
but how unjustly do they value themfelves
on their pretended knowledge; while the
fecret fprings, by which all is directed, arc
as much hid from them as from the meaneſt
of the vulgar? Theſe remain ftill, and are
like to remain for ever, the ſubject of a-
ſtoniſhment and admiration of that incon-
ceivable wiſdom which erected the ftupen-
dous machine, and eſtabliſhed every part
in fuch exactnefs of order, that nothing.
but ignorance, and its common attendant
vanity, can find the leaft flaw or weaknefs
in it. The man who certainly knows what
purpoſes the creator defigned to anſwer by
the order he has cftabliſhed, which men
learned to call by the unmeaning word
nature, and the course of nature, may, and
he only can, pretend to judge of the works
of God.
Perfect
200 The character of the CREATOR, Eff. 8.
Perfect wiſdom, and perfect power, thus
effentially united in the creator, prefent us
with a perfect character; fuch as an indif-
ferent fpectator of any judgement, if there
were any fuch, muſt eſteem, revere, and
love. And in theſe all worſhip lies. Exter-
nal worſhip is only the outward fign and
expreffion of them. This perfection of
character is the fame with what is com-
monly called goodness; a term ill under-
ftood, and much mistaken, in forming our
conceptions of the all-perfect being. As it
is from the model every man carries in his
own mind, that all our notions of divine
perfections are formed, and as our bias is
fo irreſiſtibly ſtrong to the preſervation of
life, and the enjoyments of it; thence we
take our meaſures of good and evil; and
imagine nothing can be good but what is
good to us, or rather contributes to what
we reckon good for us. But real goodneſs
is quite another thing: it is a perfect, con-
ſtant, and unchangeable love to what a
perfect infallible underſtanding knows to
be really good, and an equal abhorrence
of all that is evil. What is good or what
is evil to God, none but himſelf can fay;
or rather we muſt conceive of his perfec-
tion
}
and the ſtate of the CREATURE.
201
tion as abfolutely above bei g affected by
any thing without himſelf, as he muſt be
incapable either of any addition to or dimi-
nation of his pleafure and happineſs. It
is only among creatures that good and e-
vil in this view can be found. What
promotes the real happineſs of the crea-
ture muſt be good, and what marrs it muſt
be evil, in the creator's eye: and of this
his perfect wiſdom alone can judge. Hence
perfect goodneſs muſt be the most terrible
attribute to an ill being; as he who is pof-
feffed of it, muft as certainly deſtroy the
evil, as cheriſh the good.
It is hardly neceffary to obferve, that
the creator of all muft certainly be the ab-
folute proprietor of every being; and con-
fequently poffeffed of an abfolute right to
difpofe of them, and employ them to what
purpoſes he pleaſes; that is, as his perfect
wifdom fees meet and fit. No creature
can be poffeffed of any property in this
view, not fo much as their own life or
being, any farther than as a truſt commit-
ted to them of pure fovereign grace; and
he has a perfect right to call them to an
account for the improvement. Hence the
fundamental law of nature, No creature
VOL. I.
Cc
can
*
202 The character of the CREATOR, Eff. 8.
can fubfift but by the mere grace and good
pleaſure of the creator: none of them
have, or can ever acquire, any right to
plead upon, unleſs he is pleafed to give it
by a free fovereign act of grace.
And being thus the abfolute fovereign,
nothing can be more abfurd than to con-
fine his adminiftration to the meaſures of
moral government; that is, to the mea-
fures of human wisdom: the higheſt pre-
fumption a creature can be guilty of, un-
leſs he had condefcended to declare, that
he would follow fome fuch meaſures. What
changes he fees fit to make in his world, at
what time, and in what manner, are que-
ftions the higheſt order of creatures can
fay nothing upon. But we are fure he may
do what he pleafes with his own: and none
has a right to afk his reafons; which in-
deed cannot be comprehended by any un-
derſtanding leſs perfect than his own.
Theſe are fuch plain truths, that it can
hardly be imagined, any one fhould enter-
tain the leaft doubt of them who believes
the creation. But there are many things
we have no doubt of, and of the greateſt
moment too, which yet are fo little minded,
as not at all to influence us either in our
fpeculations
and the ſtate of the CREATURE. 203
ſpeculations or actions. We find ourſelves
fome how in poſſeſſion of what we call be-
ing and life, with certain perfections and
powers, which we look upon as pro-
perly our own, and accordingly value our-
felves upon them, and are very fond of the
gratifications we find they bring in to us;
while yet we certainly know, that the next
moment may, and in a little time death
certainly will, put an end to them all. And
whether that does not make a final end of
our being, who could have faid if the cre-
ator had not told us? So abfolutely is eve-
ry creature in his hand, that it is aftonifh-
ing how fuch an abfurd notion, as the na-
tural immortality of any of them, fhould
ever have entered the head of a reaſonable
man; a privilege no being can have, with-
out being independent on the creator.
9. Certain Truths current in the world, which
could never have entered but by Revela-
tion, and the Creator's teftimony.
UR modern philofophers, and natu-
OF
Josh to
ral theologians, deceive themſelves
and their followers. Finding certain facts
generally
Cc 2
1
{
{
!
}
204
Eff. 9.
Certain TRUTHS current
generally current in the world, they flatter
themſelves into a belief that they are natu-
rally implanted in the human mind: and
though all the experience in the world is a-
gainſt it, they infiſt, that they are juſt as
natural to man, and as much a part of his
conftitution, as inftincts are to birds and
beafts. Eut they are far from being fo
probably accounted for; and will be found
to reach no farther than the correfponding
animal inſtincts in man; except what is
common to both, a capacity or being form-
ed by imitation and cuſtom,
But the fubject of both can extend no
farther than can be brought under obfer-
vation by our perceptive powers. And
one of them, viz. hearing, extends to all
that has been obferved by others, Hence
information comes to be as natural a mean
of knowledge as any of our ſenſes; and
without it our knowledge muſt be confined
to very narrow bounds. Human know-
ledge can never reach farther than human
obſervation; and whatever exceeds the
bounds of that, are to him as if they were
not; unleſs he receives information about
them from fome fuperior being who has
obferved them. And if fuch facts as
none
knowable only by REVELATION. 205
¿
none but the creator and fovereign of the
univerſe could poſſibly reveal, are found to
be received and firmly believed among men,
the record and teftimony of ſuch facts,
where-ever it is found original, without be-
ing interlarded with fabulous circumftan-
ces, muſt be a divine revelation.
Creation out of nothing, no mortal e-
ver faw, or could fee; nor could they have
any notion of a power in any degree ana-
logous to it, until the creator himſelf was
pleaſed to exhibit it in his after works.
No man can know what is paſt, unleſs
he himſelf was a witnefs, without fome
record or tradition of it; much lefs what
is to come. Yet the books of Mofes, the
Prophets, and the writings of the Apoftles,
are full of ſuch facts, and fuch predictions
of things to come, as could never have en-
tered the head of man or angel to imagine
poffible, without them,
The original ftate of mankind, as de-
fcribed by the Heathen poets, under what
they call the Golden Age, fo contrary to
what human nature now is, and ever has
been fince the beginning of the world,
could never have entered the moſt lively i-
magination, had it not been for Mofes's
account
}
1
206
Certain TRUTHS current Eff. 9.
account of Paradife; and much leſs fuch a
a renovation of it as Virgil defcribes,
plainly copied from the Prophets. But of
all things, what could have put it into any
one's head, that earth and feas, and the
heavens themſelves, fhould at laſt be de-
ftroyed by fire, as Ovid defcribes it from
the current tradition among the Heathen?
Whether death makes a full and final end
of man, as is generally allowed it does of
other animals, who could fay, without an
expreſs revelation of the divine purpoſe?
Nothing but an overweening partiality to
ourfelves could ever have eſtabliſhed the
negative; as will eaſily appear from the beſt
reaſons philoſophy can provide us in to this
day. The only thing that can make an after
ſtate confiftent, is the refurrection of the
body: A thing almoſt as hard to conceive,
as creation out of nothing.
Whether a wife and perfectly good crea-
tor would pardon a finner, or exterminate
the evil being out of his world, who can
fay? and yet the divine placability, and
forgiveneſs of fin, have been the general be-
lief of the world from the very beginning:
and the way how pardon is to be obtain-
ed, and the Deity placated, and rendered
propitious,
knowable only by REVELATION. 207
propitious, by facrifice, has been as gene-
ral throughout all ages: The moſt abfurd
imagination in the eye of reafon; yet all
the efforts of the wifeft and moſt revered
philofophers, could never extirpate the no-
tion of its being a divine inſtitution.
The polytheism that was fo univerfally
received, could never have had its rife
from reaſoning; as the perfect poffeffion
of being and life, with all the powers and
perfections of it, cannot poffibly fubfiſt
but in one. Something may be faid for
the Heathen, after they had loft the know-
ledge of the creator, and fubftituted the
heavens, and their fenfible powers, in his
room. But whence could the notion of a
Trinity in this Unity arife? Why three,
rather than three hundred? and yet the tra-
dition is very ancient. Plato did not coin
it, as appears by his blundering unintelli-
gible account of it: and yet his account
is not more blundering than thoſe of our
philofophical divines, who have attempted
it, with the advantage of another fort of
light than he had, from obfcure traditions
only.
That God fhould have a Son, what mor-
tal could fay? and yet the tradition is as
old
{
208
Eff. 9.
Certain TRUTHS current
old as Nebuchadnezzar's days: and certain-
ly much older; for it appears then to have
been commonly received. That this Son
of God fhould be born of a woman, is yet
farther from any foundation in reafoning;
and yet the books of the Heathen are full
of it; which could never have had its rife
any where but in the original tradition.
We need fay nothing of the
many differ-
ent methods of purification and cleanſing,
by waſhing, fprinkling of blood, &c. as
they could never have been thought of a-
ny uſe for purging from moral defilement.
The fabulous appearances of their gods,
and their converfations with men; the no-
tion they had of inſpiration, as the rife and
ſpring of all great atchievements, by what
they call Spirits, their oracles, &c. are e-
vidently copied. And perhaps the devil
might take advantage of man's ignorance,
and by apeing the operations of the true
God, make himſelf be miſtaken for him,
and worshipped in his fteàd; as feems to
have been the cafe with the Heathens before
and at the time of the coming of the Son
of God into the world.
Thefe and fuch other fentiments and
practices religioufly received and adhered
to;
knowable only by REVELATION. 209
to; however abfurd and ridiculous they
may feem, and really were, as practiſed a-
mong them, who held them only, as one
may, fay by rote, without knowing the
true intent and meaning of them; yet,
when run up to their true original, and
taken as they ſtand in the Bible, reafon has
nothing to fay againſt any of them; and
fo much for them, that numbers have
been deluded into an imagination, that
they could have found out many funda-
mental ones without any farther affiſtance.
But as the caſe is demonftrably otherwiſe
in all or moſt of them, the conclufion will
come out ſtrong, that none could be the
author of theſe writings but the creator,
proprietor, and fovereign, of the world.
firft
10. The Original State of Mankind.
Know not how it has come to be in a
manner taken for granted, that the
ages of the world were abfolutely bar-
barous, and men for many ages no better
than fuch favages, or worfe, as we meet
with in the remote parts of the world;
until by length of time, they were civili-
D d
VOL. I.
zed
210
Eff. 10.
The ORIGINAL STATE
zed by very flow degrees. The firſt, and
moſt, civilized countries, were Greece and
Rome, whoſe anceſtors were certainly
fuch; whence all the reft of the world
paffed with them for barbarians. And
yet it was not, could not be diffembled,
that from theſe fame barbarians they had
all their knowledge; that is, all the facts
which ferved their philofophers to diſpute,
and form gueſſes about. Certain it is,
their predeceffors were of another opinion;
for from them they had thoſe charming de-
fcriptions of the golden age, which degene-
rated by degrees into braſs and iron, as they
came to be ſcattered abroad on the face of
the earth, and loft the knowledge of the
original facts, on which all religion and
morality, that is, all the right meaſures
of human knowledge, were founded; and
thus degenerated into a courſe of error
and folly. The plain original of that tra-
dition, Mofes gives us in his defcription
of paradife, and the ſtate of our firſt på
rents there, incomparably beyond what
the moft luxurious, and at the fame time.
the moſt correct fancy could imagine.
The particulars are in every body's hands
who will deign to look at them. It is
plain,
t
of MANKIND.
211
plain, that garden was a complete a-
bridgement of the univerfe, and a collec-
tion of every thing that was valuable
there; and ranged too, by perfect wiſdom,
into the most agreeable and inftruc-
tive order. For thence, without queſtion,
man was to gather, or find exemplified, all
the works of his creator, which perfect.
wifdom faw neceffary in that ſtation. But
how far it extended, is impoffible for us
to gueſs by thofe fhort hints Mofes has
given us. He taught him language, and
converfed with him in it; he fhewed him
the things he wanted to know, and direct-
ed him to give them names, on which all
language is founded; and as it is natural
to think they difplayed their ſeveral na-
tures before him, he had fuch an oppor-
tunity as never another had, of taking in
the whole compafs of what we call natural
hiftory. And thofe who underſtand the
Hebrew language, and the import of the
names he gave, will be furprifed at his fa-
gacity. We have no account of his gi-
ving names to the plants and trees of the
garden, nor to the heavenly bodies, which
were obvious to his fenfes ; but all thele
things were before him, and needed not
D d 2
to
1
212
The ORIGINAL STATE Eſ. 10.
were.
to be brought, as the beafts and birds
But here a queftion naturally a-
rifes, How came the firft man by all this
reafon and underſtanding, fo as to be
qualified for fuch a tafk? By his fenfes
indeed, as his body was at firft formed, he
might perceive all the material objects a-
bout him; as no doubt the mere brute
part of the creation do: and many of
them we find endued with far ftronger,
and therefore we may fay more perfect, or-
gans of fenfe, feeing and hearing particu-
larly. But reafon and underſtanding are
quite of another nature: they are not per-
ceptive powers, but regulate and improve
our fenfible perceptions to purpoſes great-
ly above what any other animal is capable
of. They have feelings fuch as we have;
they have likewiſe fomething of memory,
by which they are capable of acquiring
experience to a great degree; and many
of them have a natural fagacity, to which
we give the unmeaning name of inftinct;
and all we can fay of it is, that it was gi-
ven them by their creator in a manner we
know no more of, than we do of creation
itſelf.
We muſt have faid the fame of man,
with
of MANKIND.
1
213
Two
with all his boafted powers and faculties,
only founding the difference in the de-
grees
of fineness or coarſeneſs of their dif-
ferent conftitutions, had it not been for
the hints Mofes has left us: which, were
they well underſtood as he has laid them,
might carry the knowledge of ourſelves
farther than is commonly done.
things he tells us, befides the folemnity uſed
at his creation, viz. That man was made in
the image of his creator; and, That God
breathed into his noftrils the breath of life.
Now there are two things well known in
an image of any perfon or thing; a like-
nefs, and deſigned reprefentation, of the o-
riginal; and where there is no acceſs to
the original, as in the prefent caſe, it is
from the image that we form our appre-
henfions. In fact it is fo: all our notions
of the divine perfections, underſtanding,
wifdom, power, goodneſs, &c. are all ta-
ken from the fhadows of them in our-
felves. It were well if it was remembered
that the moſt perfect man is but an i-
mage, and needs more adjuſting than the
wifeft philofopher is capable of making
out. And, after all, the divine under-
flanding, wifdom, juftice, goodnefs, &c.
are
i
214
Eff. 10.
The ORIGINAL STATE
are really as different from what we call
by theſe names, as almighty creating
power is above that faint fcantling which
we enjoy. However the terms by which
the divine perfections, and the exertion of
them, are expreſſed in language, muſt be
taken from ours, or we muſt be quite fi-
lent; yet the analogy is fo remote, that
it would be very bad reafoning to draw
inferences from the fimilarity.
A variety of gueffes have been made a-
bout this fimilarity and likeneſs. Some
have imagined it lay in the dominion that
was given him over the creatures: but by
the account Mofes gives us, that was a
dignity granted to the man after he was
completely made. Others, with more pro-
bability, place it in what they call his mo-
ral perfections; and think they have the
apoſtle's authority to make it confiſt in
knowledge, righteouſneſs, and holineſs:
but theſe are rather the refult of his con-
ſtitution and perfect frame.
Mofes has told us, that his body was
created out of the duft, and the creator
breathed the breath of life into his no-
ftrils: which feems to teach us, that we
are not to look for this image, either in
body
of MANKIND.
215
}
body or foul feparately, as they are com-
monly diftinguifhed; but in the whole
man, as he was created perfect. And ac-
cordingly we find the terms made ufe of
by the creator in his addreffes to man,
are promifcuouſly taken from both the
intellectual and bodily parts of man.
The manner in which the great poffeffor
of being fubfifts, in the perfect enjoyment
of all the powers of life, muſt be an abſo-
lute fecret to us, who know fa little of
our own; nor is it likely that any the
moſt perfect creature, the poffeffor only
of a borrowed and dependent being, can
form any tolerable notion of it. And
therefore to pretend to reafon, from the
ſtate of ſuch imperfect beings, muft be
at once unfair and fooliſh. And yet as
a trinity, in the moſt perfect and un-
divided unity, is plainly enough afferted,
and every where fuppofed, in the record he
hath condefcended to make of himſelf,
under the titles of Father, Son, and Spi-
rit, it might be expected there fhould be
fome faint fhadow of it in his image.
Thoſe who have but glanced at the me-
chaniſm of the human fabrick, muſt have
diſcovered there three fyftems, very diffe-
rent,
216
The ORIGINAL STATE Eff. 10.
rent, and defigned to anſwer quite diffe-
rent purpoſes; and yet all confifting of
the ſame ſubſtance perfectly united, ſub-
fifting and acting in and by one another; the
firſt for taking in and diftributing proper
food for fubfiftence, the fecond for bringing
the objects we are concerned in under our
obſervation, and the third for exerting the
animal powers into action.
But thoſe who look further, and take
the whole man together, will find a more
perfect trinity inlaid in his very frame.
The foundation, and as it were the root
and ſpring, of all, is laid in his life and be-
ing, with the powers belonging to it; the
fecond confifts in perceptive powers, by
which the bodily fenfes are employed, and
informations taken in to carry our pit-
tance of knowledge as far as it will go;
the third confifts of active powers, for ac-
compliſhing what the informations we
take in, difcover to be proper and necef-
fary. To the firſt of theſe the firſt animal
ſyſtem we mentioned is analogous, to the
fecond the ſecond, and to the third the
third. Whether this may contribute any
thing toward removing the difficulty of a
trinity in unity, and which is indeed the
only
of MANKIND.
217
only one that we know nothing like,
and cannot conceive how it can be, may
be confidered by fuch as have ability and
leifure.
But the queſtion ftill remains, How
man, a being made out of the duft of the
earth, came by all theſe amazing qualities?
The ſhort anſwer is, By the amazing wif-
dom and power of his creator. But how
creating power operates, who could have
been fo mad as to inquire, had not Mofes
told us, that after the body was made, the
creator breathed into his noftrils the breath
of life, and man became a living foul; or
more properly, a living frame; as the fame
word in that language is oftener ufed to
denote the body, than the fpiritual part?
However, the words are certainly defigned
to teach us fomething about the human
conſtitution. The word which our tranfla-
tors render life is plural in the original; plain-
ly enough pointing us to the communica-
tion of another life different from the animal;
and perhaps to a third kind, as much above
the rational, by the indwelling and infu-
ence of the Divine Spirit. And the origi-
nal will bear to be tranflated, "he breathed
"into him, [or infpired him with] the fpirit
VOL. I.
E e
66
of
218
Eff.10.
The ORIGINAL STATE
"of lives; and by that, Adam became a li-
66
66
66
66
ving man." This provides us with a word
which feems to exprefs fo much, as we
find it ufed, Job xxxii. 8. "The infpi-
ration of the Almighty giveth under-
ftanding," and " holy men of God
ſpake as they were moved by the Holy
"Ghoft." A fenfible effect of this we have
in the apoſtles on the day of Pentecoſt,
Which leads us as far into the myſtery of
the thing, as we are capable of forming
any apprehenfions of: for how the Holy
Spirit works, we can know nothing but by
the effects produced by it.
This much however we may learn from
it, that the creator can by his ſpirit raiſe
whom he will, even the moft ignorant,
to what meaſures of knowledge and un-
derſtanding, and the perfections which de-
pend on them, he pleafeth; approaching more
or lefs toward perfection: for even the A-
poſtle Paul tells us, he knew but in part;
perfect knowledge being referved to an af-
ter ftate, when he propoſed to know even
as he was known. And we need not
fcruple to fay, that every man who lives.
in the world, is more or lefs infpired, be-
caufe that is the only way by which life
can be conveyed and maintained. Jefus
Chriſt,
of MANKIND.
219
མཁ་ཉཿསྟ ཀ ཡན་
Chrift, the Son of God, who has the dif-
penfing of this fpirit, is faid to be the true
light which enlighteneth every man that
cometh into the world; though, at the
fame time, it muſt be remembered, that
there is another fpirit which worketh
powerfully in the children of difobedience,
and by their very different works they are
known.
What meaſure of this fpirit the firſt
man had in his paradiſiacal ſtate, is hard
to fay from the fhort hints we have of his
hiſtory in that ftation; which, though
fhort upon the whole, yet feems to have
continued longer than is commonly allow-
ed: but this we may fay with afſurance,
that he had as much as the duty of his
ſtation required; for it is to be obſerved,
that the good and righteous creator never
lays any commands upon his creatures,
until he has put them in fuch circum-
ſtances, that every duty arifes naturally
out of them. Our firſt father found him-
felf at his firſt entrance on being, with e-
very thing that could contribute to the
moſt perfect enjoyment of life, and all the
neceffary powers to make the beſt of them:
he found himſelf at the head of the new
creation,
E e 2
220
The ORIGINAL STATE Eff.10.
2
creation, where there was no mate for
him to be found, until his creator bounti-
fully provided him with one: and, which
is infinitely more, he found himſelf ho-
noured with his creator's friendſhip, and
familiar converfation, and inftructions.
What meaſures of gratitude and love could
anfwer fuch benefactions; when, even
under all the corruptions his poſterity are
funk into, they cannot help loving thofe
that love them, and being fenfibly affected
with the benefits they receive? Thus was
the law written in his heart; and he was,
in ftrict propriety, a law to himſelf.
Hence we may take a hint toward the
decifion of that vexatious queftion, concern-
ing human liberty. No body makes the leaft
doubt, that every man is at perfect liberty
fo far as his powers go. Nor will it be
denied, that he is fo made as neceffarily to
be determined by the most prevalent mo-
tive. So far, then, as he has power to
weigh and balance the feveral motives for
or againſt any action, ſo far he is perfect-
ly free; and where fuch powers are want-
ing or defective, fo far he is, and muſt be,
a flave to the prevailing power; which in
fact is the cafe with mankind now in
numberlefs
of MANKIND.
221
numberleſs inſtances, where ignorance or
inattention gives fuch advantage to the
flattering affections and paffions, as to
make the moſt trifling gratification out-
weigh a crown of glory, and eternal happi-
nefs.
This was not, could not be, the cafe of
the firſt man. His powers extended as far
as his duty did, until the fatal trial came;
where one cannot properly fay his wifdom
failed, (for the Apoſtle affures us he was not
deceived); but his paffion was ſo ſtrong, as
to make him run into the danger with his
eyes open, and perfectly free in all other
refpects.
And this leads to another confideration,
which is not commonly fo much minded
as its obviouſneſs requires: That notwith-
ſtanding all the perfection and happineſs
of the paradifiacal ſtate, it was never de-
figned to be the permanent ftate of mankind,
but to introduce that which was to be fo ;
as fully appears by the event; unleſs we can
imagine the creator fo little acquainted
with his own works, as to find his purpoſes
baffled at firſt ſetting out; and as fome have
very unwarily repreſented him, neceffitated
by this accident to have recourſe to a new
remedial
222 The ORIGINAL STATE Eff.10.
4
remedial law, which fhould fupply the de-
fects, and thereby fet afide the old one,
which perfect wifdom had at firſt ſeen fit
to eſtabliſh: that is, in plain Engliſh, he was
forced either to make himſelf a liar, or to
deſtroy his favourite creature. The laws of
the creator are not like thofe of weak fhort-
fighted man, which must be altered and
amended as unforeſeen events caft up to
him. As the views of perfect underſtand-
ing can have no bounds, known unto God
are all his works from the beginning; and
heaven and earth may fooner paſs away,
than the leaſt jot or tittle of the divine law,
any conftitution or order of the all-wife
creator, until the whole is finiſhed. What-
ever plans therefore the wiſdom of man
has formed for him, which fuppofe any
the leaft alteration, or, as fome call it, dif-
penfing with any part of his law, muſt be
falfe and erroneous, and a preſumptuous
reflection on divine wifdom, whofe plan is
fo perfect, that every ſtep makes way for
another, until the whole defign is comple-
ted; many of which, in the detached light
wherein we view them, feem to have a
quite contrary tendency.
Nothing can be more fooliſh than to put
cafes
of MANKIND.
223
cafes which never did nor could happen; un-
leſs it be the making grave inferences from
them. Such certainly is the inquiry, What
fhould have been the cafe of our first pa-
rents and their pofterity had they perfifted
in their primitive integrity? Man had no
promiſe of any other life than what he was
then in poffeffion of, nor even of the con-
tinuance of that any farther than was im-
plied in the threatening, which affured
him he fhould die whenever he ſhould eat
of that fruit: but that gave no aſſurance
that the creator never would refume the
life he had given, if he ſaw it fit. So that
in every view we can take of their cafe, it
muſt be at leaft a very improper way of
ſpeaking, that they were to work for life
by the covenant they were then under;
which can have no foundation but on
the precarious fuppofition, that when
their ſtate of probation, as it is called,
was finiſhed, they fhould have been tranf-
planted into a higher ftate of dignity and
happinefs, fomething like that which man-
kind have now a grant of in Jefus Chrift.
Whereas, in fact, we find, that the con-
tinuance of even the life they had,
was not put upon doing of any kind, but
upon
224
The ORIGINAL STATE Eff.io.
upon the forbearing to eat of the fruit of
a certain tree; and that was the only event
in which they had any reaſon to fear the
death which was threatened.
Of a piece with this, and another part
of the fame plan, is the conftruction put
upon the threatening, viz. That the death
which was thus peremptorily threatened, ex-
tended not only to the death of the body,
or the extinction of the fpiritual life in the
foul, but to eternal death; the very fame
puniſhment which we find threatened a-
gainſt thofe who will not believe the go-
fpel of Jefus Chriſt.
It is furpriſing how any one could mifs
of what is the very obvious confequence of
this, viz. that it muſt have been utterly
impoffible for any of mankind to be ſaved;
as impoffible as it was for the God of truth
to lie, or any conflitution or law of his to
be fet afide until it had its full effect. This
has forced the afferters into fuch a maze
as requires infinitely more metaphyſical ſkill
to comprehend their meaning, than falls to
every man's fhare. And fuch will always
be the fate of thofe who will be wife above
what is written. I would not be thought
to extenuate the demerit of fin, which is
in
1
of MANKIND.
225
in its very nature the death of the man :
but the queſtion is not, What puniſhment fin
deferves? but, What puniſhment the creator
had decreed upon the commiſſion of fin; an
event which he certainly forefaw would
happen, and that too in a fhort time, very
preciſely known to himſelf?
The account we have in the record is
plain and fimple, obvious to every one's
underſtanding; and the obvious meaning
of the threatening appears to be, that man
fhould lofe, or that an end fhould be put to all
that life which he then enjoyed; but it does
not fay how the creator meant to diſpoſe of
him afterward; whether to leave him there,
or to raiſe him up again to another life, and
another way of living. This his denun-
ciation, peremptory as it was, left entire-
ly in his own hand. And in fact we are
affured by the record, that he had then,
and had from everlaſting, provided another
head for mankind, for raifing them up, and
conveying to them eternal life in his bleffed
Son, that divine perfon afterwards known
in the world by the name of Jeſus Chriſt;
of whom Adam in Paradife was only a
figure, or a fort of fenfible image and
repreſentation, for helping us with greater
eaſe to form fome proper apprehenfions
VOL. I.
F f
of
226
The ORIGINAL STATE Eff. 10.
of him, as the Apoſtle Paul affures us.
Did we know what life is, and could we
talk intelligibly upon it, we would fee how
exactly the threatening is fulfilled. But
though we know not what life is, yet there
are two kinds of being, viz. the animal, and
the vegetable, where we can perceive how life
is fupported; namely, by their connection
with the material ſyſtem, and the influences
of the heavens. Whenever the fap is no
more raiſed in vegetables, and the animal can
no longer breathe, though not an atom of
their ſubſtance is annihilated, yet they are
dead, there is an end put to that ſtate
which we call life. I know not how we
have got ourſelves fo bigotted in the no-
tion that ſpirits cannot die. For though
it may be true, that they cannot die, as
bodies do, by a diffolution of parts; yet
if their life lies in their connection with a fpi-
ritual ſyſtem, (and it muſt either do ſo, or they
muſt be ſelf-exiftent and independent be-
ings); whenever that connection is broken,
there muſt be an end put to their life, and
they made incapable of that way of living
for which that connection qualified them.
We need not amufe ourſelves with look-
ing for any other ſpiritual ſyſtem, but the
fullness
of MANKIND.
227
fullneſs and all-fufficiency of the creator.
And if the ſpiritual life is maintained by
the divine ſpirit, as the animal life is by the
material; whenever that fpirit is with-
drawn from man, there is an end of his life
and vital powers: his connection with the ſpi-
ritual ſyſtem is broken; and the man is, to
all intents and purpoſes, as dead to the fpiri-
tual world, as if one of us were totally di-
veſted of his rational powers, and funk down
to a mere animal ftate. The animal would
be alive; but we would all fay the man
is dead.
Here we have reafon to expect a
terrible cry, raiſed by our philofophical
divines and patrons of moral government:
What a horrible view, will they fay, does this
give us of the fovereign of the univerfe?
Where is the juſtice, to fay nothing of
goodneſs, to require fuch duties of the
creature as he has no power to perform?
What if I ſhould aſk, where hath God re-
quired any fuch duties, either of Adam or his
children? for I do not think it a good anfwer
to ſay, We had fuch powers in Adam. We
muſt certainly take the divine law precifely
as God hath laid it in the record:
and there I find no duties required of A-
dam's mere children, that is, fuch as
Ff2
have
228 The ORIGINAL STATE E. 10.
!
?
have no other life but what they derive
from him, but only to deny themſelves, to
take up their crofs, and to follow Chriſt:
and that is no more, than to acknowledge
themſelves to be, what they really are,
dead to God, and very foon to be dead to
the world; and fly to the relief their gra-
cious creator has prepared in his bleffed
Son; where they are affured of finding an
infinitely better life, than ever Adam
could have any notion of, and of being more
clofely united to the fountain of life; in
the virtue of which, all God's command-
ments are ſo far from being grievous, that
they are all pleaſantneſs and peace. For
the love of God fhed abroad in the heart,
writes every one of them there, deep and
ftrong, in the one great law of love.
As this was by far the principal part of
man's paradifiacal life, when he loft the fpi-
ritual life, the threatening was literally ful-
filled, in the very day, nay, the very mo-
ment, he finned; when in the very nature
of the thing, by turning away from God to
the creature, he forfook the fountain of
life, and the only way in which a fpirit
can live. But they carry the Hebrew
phrafe too far, who make it import any
more
of MANKIND.
229
more than the certainty of the event, with-
out ſpecifying the time when it fhould
be inflicted. Thus it was appointed for
all men once to die; and thence it be-
comes every one's duty to acquiefce in this
order, as we find it conftructed and en-
forced by the great judge, who himſelf
was the lawgiver, and certainly beſt un-
derſtood his own deed.
But why ſhould the beneficent creator be
fo cruel, as to give his favourite creature
fuch a tranfient glance of happineſs, as only
ſerved to condemn him and his pofterity to
endleſs regret for the lofs of it? why put
the fortunes of all mankind in one man's
hand, and puniſh them for a crime they
neither were, nor could be confcious of,
far lefs acceffory to? With thefe, and
a number of other fuch queſtions, men
who would be counted very wife, have
puzzled themſelves and others. It is really
amazing how fuch puny things as the wifeſt
and moſt learned of mankind certainly are,
ſhould ever have arrived at ſuch a pitch of
infolence, as to put queftions to their
creator; a greater abfurdity, furely, than if
the clay ſhould ſay to the potter, Why haft
thou made me thus?
Certain
230 The ORIGINAL STATE Eff. 10.
Certain it is, that the prefent ſtate,
whatever it be, is that which the creator
has allotted to this order of his creatures.
And had none of them ever been in any
higher or better, who could have had any
reafon to complain? It is true, many men
of great piety and learning have declared
it inconfiftent with the divine perfections,
and of courſe impoffible, that fuch a crea-
ture could have come out of his hands.
But when they are put upon anſwering a
very natural queſtion in this view, How then
came he there? no wonder they are greatly
embarraſſed: and embarraſſed they muſt
be, when they are forced to reply, That
God could not hinder our firſt parents from
falling, without breaking in upon that liber-
ty which they fay was abfolutely neceſſary
in a ſtate of probation: for what hurt
could it have done their liberty, to have
given them as much wiſdom as to have
counterbalanced the temptation?
But this fame ſtate of probation it were
much to be wifhed were better explain-
ed than is ufually done. The notion
commonly annexed to it, that the creator
treated his creatures as kings do their fub-
jects when they are put upon their good
behaviour,
1
of MANKIND.
231
per-
behaviour, is certainly wrong. The om-
niſcient creator knew moft certainly what
would be the event, and needed not put
it to the trial: and we are very fure per-
fect wiſdom does nothing in vain. But
probation in another view was very pro-
per; viz. that the creature might know itſelf;
and how impoffible it is, even for the moſt
perfect creature, to fubfift in the moſt
fect enjoyment of life, in any other way
than by mere grace, and the free unmerit-
ed exertion of divine power for fupporting
it in that condition. Greater advantages
cannot be imagined than our firſt parents
enjoyed; nor eafier terms propofed, than, in
the midſt of an infinite variety of fruits, to
forbear the eating of one: For fure, if
they could not do that, they could do no-
thing at all.
And hence arifes another leffon, of equal
importance and ufe; that fuch a treaſure
as life could never be ſafely truſted in the
hand of any mere man; A truth neceffary
to be adverted to, as it is in effect the only
mean which can effectually recommend the
unſpeakable goodneſs, and indulgent care of
the creator, in lodging life in a hand where it
could
232
The ORIGINAL STATE Eff.10.
could not poffibly be forfeited, the hand
of his own only begotten Son.
And this opens to us a reafon for intro-
ducing the permanent ftate of mankind
in this manner; namely, as was before
hinted, to provide us in a figure or image,
by which we might be enabled to form
fome proper conceptions of him, who
ftands at the head of mankind in relation
to the fpiritual and eternal world, as the
firſt man did in relation to this preſent
periſhing one. Adam was intruſted with
all that life which was ever to be conveyed
to his natural defcendents; and through
him it will be derived to the lateft pofterity,
in the courſe of what we call natural gene-
ration.
To him the terms of life were given;
and by his failure in the obfervance of
them, the fate of all his pofterity was un-
alterably determined, by the judgement
which was paffed upon his fall: A ſtate
in which it is glaringly impoffible for any
of Adam's race, falling into the original er-
ror, to flatter themſelves with the hope of e-
ternal life by any other means, than the
free grace of the creator, who can, and who
alone can, raiſe the dead, and beſtow what
meaſures
of MANKIND.
233
meaſures of perfection and happineſs he
pleafes.
We may yet add another confideration
of no fmall moment. Had man never
known of any higher and happier ftate
than the preſent, he would naturally have
refted here, as the ſtation the creator had
allotted him; whereas the account given us
of the paradiſiacal ſtate, while it cauſeth us
to regret the loſs we have ſuſtained, has a na-
tive tendency to open the heart for relief.
And we have there fuch a fair figure of the
heavenly paradiſe, that many have ſtum-
bled into a very wrong notion, that we
have nothing more to expect from Chrift,
but a reſtoration of what we loft by Adam.
Mofes's account of the feduction on
which the tranfgreffion was founded, has
occafioned a great profufion of looſe wit,
which might all have been fpared, had
the narrative, and the circumſtances in
which it was written, been conſidered with
any degree of attention.
Eve's character is marked with a great
deal of honeft unfufpecting fimplicity.
The temptation, every body must own,
was conducted with the utmoſt fretch
of fubtilty. The ferpent's fubtilty we
VOL. I.
G g
find
234
Eff. 10.
The ORIGINAL STATE
find marked by a greater than Mofes. This
Eve might know; and finding the ſerpent
bufy about the fruit, its fpeaking and reafon-
ing gave great colour to the temptation, and
made it much eaſier to believe the effects it
might have upon her huſband and her. But
to thofe for whom Mofes wrote, it was ſtrong
evidence that a higher and more fubtile be-
ing was concerned. The only fault that can
be found in the narrative is its concifenefs;
but it is more than likely the whole was
then fo familiarly known by tradition, that
there was no need of being more particular.
And for after ages, we have it fufficiently
explained by the epithet of the old fer-
pent affixed to the tempter.
1
I only obferve further, that however
currently the title of the grand apoftafy is
by most men affixed to the fall of our firſt
parents, it is never applied fo in the whole
courfe of the record, but always denotes
mens falling off from that ſtate the creator
graciously entered them into, when they
were driven out of the earthly paradiſe.
But the immediate confequences of that
firſt tranfgreffion, the horrour and anguiſh
which must have feized our firft parents
when the hurry of the temptation was over,
cannot
of MANKIND.
235
cannot poffibly be imagined by any being, e-
ven the moſt rational, who has not had the
experience of the pleaſure and delight which
they found in the intercourſes of friendſhip
with their creator. An honeſt mind, wheedled
into an act of rebellion against a moft gra-
cious fovereign, to whofe friendſhip he owed
the enjoyment of the moſt perfect earthly
happineſs, and who had a numerous beloved
family depending upon him, and expofed
to beggary, and all the mifery confequent
upon it; the remorfe and anguifh of fuch
a perfon may give fome faint image of their
diftrefs; but as much fainter than that of
our firſt progenitors, as there is no fove-
reign like the creator for worth, nor any
who
can fhow fuch friendſhip, and confer fuch
favours as he had done. What then muſt
they have felt, now that all was loft, and,
fo far as they could judge, irretrievably
loft.
I fay irretrievably loft; for in this light
it muſt have appeared to them. Nay more,
had all the creatures been called upon to give
their verdict, they muſt have been of the fame
mind. The law was exprefs, without any li-
mitation or falvo. If juſticefhould be mellow-
ed into mercy, ſtill the truth of God, who
Gg 2.
cannot
236
Eff.10.
The ORIGINAL STATE
cannot lie, bound the criminals to fuffer
what he had pofitively faid fhould be the
puniſhment of their tranfgreffion.
No room was left for transferring guilt, or
for any vicarious puniſhment; and yet lefs,
if poffible, for fulfilling the law by a fubfti-
tute or furety: for indeed the law which
brought them under death, was of fuch a
nature, that it could never be fulfilled at all
when once it was broken: it was not upon:
perfect obedience to the whole will of God,
but upon that particular command, to for-
bear the forbidden fruit, that their life or
death was made to depend. So that, upon the
whole, there was no hope for the offenders but
one, which no creature could entertain, viz.
that the creator, in his free fovereign grace,
fhould raiſe them from the dead; that is
create them anew, and enter them into a
new life, and a new way of living fuitable
to the nature and defign of it; as we find
hath been done in Jefus Chrift the mediator.
Accordingly their cafe, as reprefented by
Mofes, appears a difmal reverfe of their for-
mer ftate. The voice of their creator,
which was wont to fill them with pleaſure
and joy unſpeakable, now filled them with
terror; and all the poor relief they had,
Was
of MANKIND.
237
was to keep themſelves out of his fight.
And had not he, in his wonderful conde-
fcenfion, fought them, they had been for
ever cut off from him who is the fountain
of life, and dead to all intents and purpoſes,
but thoſe of the poor animal life; reduced to
live, as the beaſts of the field do, merely on
this outward fenfible world. And that is all
that any of their pofterity are capable of,
until they be created anew in Chrift Jefus.
However we,
their thoughtleſs pofterity,
who know no better, may pleaſe ourſelves
with thefe low gratifications, it muſt have
been impoffible for them to have fubfifted
in the circumſtances wherein they found
themſelves: and accordingly their merciful
creator did not leave them long to languiſh
in fuch uncertainty. They were immediate-
ly called into judgement. What was to be
in all time coming the ſtate of mankind, was
then unalterably fixed by the great fove-
reign; and in the fentence pronounced up-
on the ferpent, a door of hope was opened
to the criminals, and the memorial of the
promiſed feed of the woman kept up, in the
antipathy which then commenced between
the inftrument of feduction and the ordi-
nary defcendents of the tranfgreffors. And
38
238. }
Eff. II.
The CHARACTER Of
}
as the ſentence of death is literally ful-
filled in all the defcendents of Adam, that
alone carries along with it a ſtrong confir-
mation of the bruifing the ferpent's head, or,
as we find the Apoſtle John explains it, de-
ftroying the works of the devil, viz. fin, and
death; and confeqently of the bringing in
of a new and unperiſhable life. And hence
the notions of the divine placability, of im-
mortality, and of life after the body is diffol-
ved to duſt, have obtained in all ages and
nations of the world; which never could have
entered the heart of man any other way.
11. The Character of Jefus Christ.
T is common with our hiftory-writers,
IT
to give characters of the principal per-
fons concerned in the tranfactions they re-
late. But unleſs theſe are true pictures
drawn from the life, of the conduct and
behaviour of the man in every cafe, they
are only the opinions of the writer, and
are very little regarded by wife readers.
To get then at the true character of Jeſus,
it will not be fufficient to know what this
or the other man faid or thought of him,
but
1
"
JESUS CHRIST.
239
but what the whole tenor of his life ſhows
him to have been. We have his hiſtory
given us in the moſt authentic manner e-
ver any was; and with many advantages
no other ever had; which it is not our
prefent buſineſs to confider, but to take
it as it lies before us in a record made by
the peculiar direction and influence of the
fpirit of truth.
The hiftory of his life is not like that of
other men, from his birth to his death.
but extends a great way backward before
he made his appearance in the world, and
forward after he left it; which indeed are
the principal parts, as his appearance in
this world was fo mean and unfightly, that
thoſe who judged only by this world's
meaſures, could perceive no form nor
comeliness in him wherefore he fhould be
defired. He was long before defcribed in
prophecy as a man of forrows and ac-
quainted with griefs; and at laſt condemned
and crucified as one of the bafeft malefac-
tors; and had it not been for what followed,
he had been at leaft reckoned, as the learned
Jews faid he was, a deceiver of the people.
However it
may ſeem at firſt fight, the moſt
advantageous fituation for taking a complete
view
240
Eff. 11.
The CHARACTER of
view of Jefus, will be found at his croſs: and
the more attentively we confider that kind
of death, and the circumſtances which at-
tended his death in particular, the more
clearly will the tranfcendent beauty and ex-
cellence of his character fhine forth to our
obfervation.
Mean while the firſt and moſt obvious
queftion which naturally occurs, is, How
he came there? and what were the crimes
for which he was condemned to fuch a
barbaroufly cruel death? Upon the ftrict-
eft inquiry it will be found, that he
lived with fuch perfect innocence, that he
was not afraid to challenge his moſt inve-
terate enemies to convict him, of ever ha-
ving faid or done any thing amiſs, during
the whole courfe of his life: and that is
more than can be faid of any other man,
from the beginning of the world to this
day. They charged him indeed with
many things which they called fins and
blafphemies, but which were indeed the
brighteſt parts of his character. The fum
of their charge was, That he charitably
healed the fick and difeafed on their fab-
bath-day; and faid, which was a great
truth, that he was that Son of God who
fhould come into the world; and whom
thofe
勉
​JESUS CHRIST.
241
thoſe very men who charged him with
blafphemy on that account, pretended, at
that very time, to be daily expecting and
looking for: that is, they charged him
with blafphemy for faying thoſe very
things which their Meffiah, whenever he
came, muſt have faid.
But however amiable a part perfect in-
nocence makes of a character, it is hardly
poffible it can be maintained, without the
exercife of benevolence and beneficence
throughout the whole courfe of life. Or,
in other words, perfect innocence cannot
fubfift without perfect love to God and
man; nor that without the natural fruits,
exerciſes, and actings of it on every pro-
per occafion. And there it was, that this
Jefus fhewed himſelf to the greateſt advan-
tage. He paffed indeed the firſt, and
greateſt part of his life, in a very low and
retired ſtation; without any extraordinary
fhow, excepting only his converfation
with the doctors and learned men in the
temple when he was only twelve years of
age, which filled every one that heard
him with aſtoniſhment.
But from the time appointed for his
manifeſtation, and entering on his proper
Hh
bufinefs,
VOL. I.
242
Eff. 11.
The CHARACTER of
buſineſs, which only commenced at his
baptifm, his whole life was ſpent in going
about doing good; healing all manner
of diſeaſes, giving eyes to the blind, ears
to the deaf, limbs to the maimed, and,
which is infinitely more, life to the dead,
on ſeveral occafions. Never did any apply to
him, however defperate the cafe was, who
went away without their errand; and in
many cafes, he freely difpenfed his favours
to fuch as neither aſked, nor fo much as
thought of applying to him.
66
But however kind he was to the bodies
of men, it was with their fouls his main
bufinefs lay. He proclaimed the goſpel of
the kingdom, thofe good news to a pe-
riſhing world, which angels begun at his
birth, when they thus faid: Glory to
"God in the higheft, and on earth peace,
good-will towards men." And this he
did with fuch power, that not only ſtorms
and tempeſts, but the devils themſelves,
were forced to give ready obedience unto
his word of command.
66
The number of miracles performed by
him was very great; and the loweſt conclu-
fion that can be drawn from theſe aſtoniſhing
inftances
JESUS CHRIST.
243
inftances of divine power, is that of Nico-
demus, viz. That he muſt be a teacher ſent
from God. And accordingly, to theſe
we find himſelf often appealing. This
conclufion, fimple and natural as it ap-
pears, is very comprehenfive. Whatever he
ſpoke in that capacity, had all the autho-
rity of a divine oracle, and demanded
fubmiffion, as the words of the living
God.
This carries his character very high.
He faid he was the Chrift, the Son of the
living God, the King of Ifrael, and the
Saviour of the world; not ſuch a faviour
as they who had gone before him, by
whom God had wrought wonderful tem-
poral deliverances; but the author of e-
ternal falvation to all fuch as obey him,
and the judge of the world, by whoſe fi-
nal fentence the eternal ftate of all man-
kind fhall be determined.
He carries his pretenfions yet higher, even
to fuch an oneness with the only true God
his Father, that whofoever fees him fees
the Father: nay more, that whatever the
Father does, he does alfo, even to raiſing
the dead, and quickening whom he will.
And his difciples, who knew his mind
Hh 2
perfectly,
1
244
Eff. 11.
The CHARACTER of
perfectly, affure us, that he was fo far
from beginning to exiſt when he was born
into this world, that he was not only be-
fore Abraham, as himſelf faid, but even
before the world; and that all things
were made, not only by him, but made
for him; and, in one word, that he was
that very perfon of whom Mofes and the
prophets wrote; and accordingly he di-
rected his hearers to fearch the ſcriptures;
For, faid he, thofe are they which teſtify of
me.
Great pains have been taken, and much
wit, and what they call learning, has been
employed, to bring down the meaning of
many deſcriptive prophecies of the Mef-
fiah, and to apply them to perfons and
things which have no relation to him.
But after all their learned labours, enough
remains to anſwer the purpoſe. They are
indeed very
very various, and fo conceived, that
until they were fulfilled in the perfon of Je-
fus, it was the hardeſt thing in the world
to reconcile them to each other. Sometimes
he is deſcribed as a child born, a fervant in
low and abject circumftances, and in
the end brought to a difgraceful and un-
timely end; at other times, again, in all the
very
pomp
JESUS CHRIST.
245
pomp and majefty of a triumphant con-
queror, at the head of an univerfal mo-
narchy, and of whofe kingdom there fhall
be no end. The carnal Jews, who had no
notion of any ſpiritual bondage, falvation,
or kingdom, graſped greedily at this laſt
part
of his character, and overlooked the other;
and yet, had he not been thus meek and
lowly, deſpiſed and rejected of men, and
in the end died as he did, he could not
have been the perfon of whom Mofes and
the prophets wrote.
This carries the character of Jefus to a
ftupendous height. Creating power is the
higheſt that can be conceived; and indeed
the higheſt and moſt diſtinguiſhing cha-
racter of true, proper, incommunicable
Deity, that himſelf affumes and inſiſts
on throughout the record; and the
higheſt pitch of religious acknowledge-
ment the moſt enlightened faint ever
made; fo high, that thoſe who would fink
him either to a mere creature, or to an in-
ferior degree of Deity, have no refourſe
left, but that very precarious one, that the
fupreme God could make a creature who
might be able to create worlds. But Jefus
himfelf
246
Eff. 11.
The CHARACTER of
himſelf has ſaid, (and he never ſaid any
thing but what was perfectly true), that
whatever the Father doth, he doth alfo.
And we find, further, the effential name
JEHOVAH attributed to him; and it is at-
tributed to him in more places of the Old
Teftament than commentators have obfer-
ved. When therefore he is expreſsly ſty-
ed, The Lord, and King of Ifrael, what au-
thority have we to make him a fubftitute.
in any other way than that to which he
has condefcended to humble himfelf? And
is not this more abfurd and unintelligible
than what they would avoid by it, viz. a
trinity, diſtinguiſhed by the names of Fa-
ther, Son, and Spirit, of the fame divine
fubftance or effence, fubfifting and acting
in and by one another?
Thus we are taught, that the eternal
Word, for whatever is before the begin-
ning of time muſt be eternal, the fame who
is called the Son, was made fleſh; and by
affuming the human nature into perfonal
union with his divinity, made the neareſt
approach the creator could make to the
creature, and in effect united himself to it.
So that we have, in ſtrict truth, the fame
affurance, that this divine perfon is the
creator, as that the being called God is;
and
JESUS CHRIST.
247
and the fame evidences of divine power
and wiſdom, with all other perfections;
and the fame means too of aſcertaining
our belief, and helping our conceptions,
by the analogous powers he exerted in the
mighty works which he did; many of
which approach ſo near to creating power,
that they at leaſt imply fuch a command of
all the powers of nature, as none but the
creator could poffibly exert.
And this leads to the aftoniſhing event;
how fuch an excellent being came thus to
condefcend to bear the form of a fervant, and
thus to be defpifed and rejected of men?
None will be fo fooliſh as to imagine the Dei-
ty was changed into Humanity, or the Hu-
manity into Deity: but it is eaſy to conceive,
that the inviſible Deity might, if he fo plea-
fed, hide his glory under this mean appear-
ance, as we are told Jehovah, unquestionably
the true God, frequently did in the early
ages of the world. But, at the fame time,
there muſt be fome proportionable end to
anfwer by it. And it is here that the dif-
tinguishing character of Jefus Chrift dif-
plays itſelf in the ſtrongeſt colours. And,
to fay it all in one word, it was love to
mankind, and to give the moſt convincing
evidence
248
Eff. 11.
The CHARACTER of
evidence of the truth of what the Apoſtle
John tells us, that God is love. To con-
vince mankind of this, labouring as they
are under the mifreprefentations of an e-
vil confcience, and thereby to reconcile
them to God as the proper object of love,
is the whole defign of the gofpel, the re-
cord God has made concerning his Son.
But this is not to be effected without what
is properly called the Spiritual difcerning or
perception; nor can that fubfift without
fpiritual life, of which it is the leading
power; nor yet can that life ſubſiſt but by
reftoring to man that fpirit which Adam
loft by his falling from God; by which
all communication with the fountain of
life was ſtopped, and man became a mere
animal: rational indeed, and that fets him
above the brutes; but reafon cannot move
without fomething to work upon, and
therefore can extend no further than his
perceptive powers go, which reach no fur-
ther than a prefent world. Whence the
Apoſtle calls all thoſe who have not the
fpirit, fenfual, as they have no other guide
but their fenfes, until they come to be bet-
ter informed, as blind men are of light,
and its properties and effects.
Many
<
JESUS CHRIST.
249
Many have thought, that the creator
might have raiſed mankind to this new
life by a mere act of grace,
without any
more ado. And in effect he has done fo.
But by the primeval law, the life we have
from Adam muſt be deſtroyed; and, that
fin might be fully condemned, men muſt
believe and agree to the condemnatory fen-
tence, that the wages of fin is death, and
that fleſh and blood cannot inherit the king-
dom of heaven. But, above all, man muſt
have a strong foundation laid for the be-
lief of fuch a very unlikely thing, as that
a righteous and holy God, who, from the
perfection of his very goodneſs, muſt per-
fectly hate and abhor fin, and deſtroy it out
of his world, that fuch a God fhould not
only pardon and forgive the finner, but
raiſe him up to a ſtate of fuch dignity,
perfection, and happineſs, as Adam's pa-
radifiacal life was but a very faint image
and figure of; and, finally, that this hap-
life fhould be fecured againſt any new
РУ
forfeiture, which it muſt have been conti-
nually expofed to through the weaknefs
and folly of man, had it been lodged in
his hands without any better fecurity.
As this is, in the ftricteft fenfe, and
without
VOL. I.
I i
250
Eff. 11.
y
The CHARACTER of
without any metaphor, a new creation, by
which men are introduced into a new
world, and a new way of living, they are
accordingly provided in a new head, fuch
as Adam his figure was in the firſt crea-
tion. To him the grant of life-eternal
was made; and by uniting the man Jefus
with the eternal Word, all the fullnefs of
life was actually lodged in his hand; and
fō lodged, that none can have any ſhare
in it, or enter the fpiritual and eternal
world, but by deriving it from him, and
partaking of his fpirit, in what is pro-
perly called regeneration, or the new birth.
To him the terms of life were given: and
they were fevere ones; that he fhould be
obedient even unto the death; that he fhould
take upon himſelf the burden which ſin had
brought upon mankind, overcome every
temptation, and, by making himſelf a fa-
crifice for, and condemning fin in the fleſh,
fhould open a way for deftroying fin and
death; and thus cffectually bruiſe the fer-
pent's head, and deflroy the works of the
devil. Thefe terms he completely fulfilled;
and thus made out a perfect right to the pro-
mifed life. So that the grant comes free,
as the freeſt gift to mankind; only with
this natural and neceffary confequence,
that
JESUS CHRIST.
251
that they deny themſelves, take up their
crofs, and follow him; that is, in other
words, that they acquiefce in the original
conftitution, and give up to death and de-
ftruction the life they had from Adam, re-
nounce all pretenfions to hold by the firſt
creation-grant, reft in the gift of grace in
Chriſt, and hold all by his right; as him-
felf has ftated it, As the Father hath gi-
ven to me, fo do I give the kingdom to
you.
Thus, then, the complex character of
Jefus Chrift unfolds to us all the very dif-
ferent, and feemingly inconfiftent, accounts
that are given of him: God condeſcend-
ing to dwell with men upon earth in the
man Jefus; and the man exalted into the
perfection, the glory and dignity of God,
with all the fullnefs of life, and its moft
perfect powers dwelling in him; all wif-
dom and underſtanding, almighty power,
and the perfection of goodnefs, exerted in
and by the wonderful man, chofen and a-
nointed for thefe high purpoſes; the truc
prieſt interceffor ftanding between the crea-
tor and his creatures, and the great and
only mean of communication between God
and man.
[ Ꭵ 2
From
f
252
The CHARACTER of Eff. 1 1
From the whole of his hiſtory laid toge-
ther, arifes the moſt amiable of all charac
ters; a perfect image of the inviſible God,
without any defect or abatement. His
perfect difintereſted love was tried and ap-
proved by all the tefts which love can be
put to; when, inſtead of the joy that was
lying before him, and his natural right
and due, he humbled himſelf into the ve-
ry loweſt of what is called the mifery of
mankind, abfolute poverty and contempt,
the utmoſt contradiction of finners, and
malice of the great and mighty; he endu-
red the croſs, defpifing the fhame. And
this is recommended by every circumflance
which can be imagined to endear the ten-
dereft and most affectionate love: and all
the recompence he had to afk of his hea-
venly Father for all the forrows and fuffer-
ings he had undergone throughout his faith-
ful fervice was, to be glorified with that
glory he had with him before the founda-
tion of the world.
That glory he began to enter upon at
his refurrection from the dead; by which
he appeared to be, what never another
man was, the abfolute proprietor of his
own life; who had power to lay it
down,
་
JESUS CHRIST.
253
down, and power to take it up again.
Thus he aboliſhed and triumphed over
death, deſtroyed the works of the devil,
fet life and immortality in the faireſt light,
and laid, for all his followers, a ſtrong foun-
dation of faith and hope of being made
like him in his refurrection and glory.
He continued on earth a confiderable
time after, but no longer than he judged
it neceffary to confirm his difciples in the
full affurance of his refurrection: he then
aſcended into heaven in their fight, en-
tered into his glory, and foon after gave
full proof of it by fuch an exertion of
power and authority, as none but God
could give; fulfilling the promiſe he had
made them before his death, that he
would fend them another comforter, who
fhould lead them into all truth; and ful-
filling it in a manner that one would think
muſt have convinced the moft obftinately
prejudiced unbeliever. And thus we have
him prefented to our faith in a ſtate of
dignity infinitely above what the moſt
pompous deſcriptions of the prophets ex-
preffed, every way worthy to be truſted
with the moſt affured confidence, for ma-
king good every part of his general cha-
racter,
254
The CHARACTER of, &c. Eff. 11.
}
萝
​racter, as furety of the new and better co-
venant to convey the promiſed bleffings,
and to fave to the uttermoft all that come
unto God by him.
But yet there is another part of his cha-
racter which it concerns us much to keep
continually in view; that as all
that as all power in
heaven and in earth is given into his hand,
and the whole weight of government laid
upon his fhoulders, fo all judgement is com-
mitted to him; particularly that final one,
at the day which God hath appointed,
when we muſt all appear before his judge-
ment-feat, and have our eternal ftate of
happineſs or mifery fixed by his unaltera-
ble fentence. And fure it concerns
much how we treat him now, when he
comes, as he does in the word of the go-
fpel, with all the attractions of redeeming
love, to fave us from our fins, and the
fnare of the devil, and the dreadful bond-
in which we are all of us fo deeply in-
age
volved, that nothing but the mighty power
concerns us
of God in his hand can relieve us.
The
The ſtate of MANKIND, &c. 255
12. The original ftate of Mankind after the en-
trance of fin.
TH
we
HE original ſtate of mankind, is a
point of which thoſe whom we call
ancient writers have nothing to fay. The
eldeft of them are the Greeks, who knew
nothing but the traditions they had of the
barbarous condition of their anceſtors;
from which they very foolishly concluded,
that all the rest of the world were fuch.
Mofes is incomparably more ancient than
the eldeſt of them, and had advantages,
fuch as none of them had, or could have.
I will fay nothing now of the authenticity
of his hiſtory, but take the account he has
given as he has laid it.
When our guilty firft parents concluded,
that their hitherto munificent creator was
now become their irreconcileable enemy,
from whom they had nothing to expect
but death and deftruction, the only ex-
pedient that occurred to them was, to
keep themſelves as much as poffible out
of his fight; and had he left them to
themfelves, they and their pofterity muſt
have
256
The ſtate of MANKIND Eff. 12.
have funk into a ftate of greater and
more wretched favageneſs than any of
them have ever yet been found in. But
he left them not long to languifh in fuch
difmal anxiety. The great fovereign and
judge of the earth fought them out, call-
ed them into judgement, and, by his wife
and righteous fentence, fixed what was to
be, and has been ever fince, the perma-
nent and unalterable ſtate of mankind. By
which it appears, that the paradifiacal ſtate,
with all the perfection and happineſs which
attended it, was never defigned by perfect
wiſdom, otherwiſe than as a proper intro-
duction to another. It is here, therefore,
that we are to look for that divine conftitu-
tion or law given to mankind; the declara-
tion of his eternal counfels and purpoſes,
what meaſures he was to follow, what
fhould be their duty in all time coming,
and what ſhould be the event and iffue of
all; by which only mankind can know what
they have either to hope or to fear from
the hand of their creator.
Man is evidently fo made, as to be
frongly connected with, and dependent
on, the material fyftem, for the fupport
and maintenance of this fhadow of life
which
after the entrance of SIN.
257
which he poffeffes in a prefent world. I
call this a fhadow of life, becauſe it ap-
pears plainly, that he is capable of a way
of living incomparably preferable to it; a
life, by which he is as ftrongly connected
with, and dependent on, the ſpiritual and
eternal fyftem. Hence, to take any thing
like a juft view of the flate of mankind,
his fituation with refpect to both theſe
ſyſtems must be attended to.
With refpect to the material fyftem, and
his condition in the prefent world, he was
evidently a great lofer by his tranfgreffion.
The original law bound him under death;
and accordingly fentence is pronounced,
that he fhall return unto the duft, from
which he was taken; and thus all hopes
of the continuance of all or any of thoſe
pleaſures and gratifications we are fo fond
of, are utterly extinguiſhed. And it becomes
the vaineſt thing that can be well imagined,
to fet our hearts upon any of them; and the
moſt egregious folly, to value ourſelves on
fuch fhort and precarious enjoyments or
poffeffions, as a prefent perifhing and pre-
carious life can admit of.
Nor was this all: The now unhappy man
was deprived at once of all the pleaſures and
comforts
VOL. I.
K k
258
The ſtate of MANKIND Eff. 12.
comforts of life which he had formerly en-
joyed in paradife, and was driven out to
till the earth, from which he was taken.
And this, by the way, fuggefts to us a
truth; I am afraid, too little minded: Man
was not made in paradife; nor was that
the natural ſtatc of man, even in the height
of his innocence and perfection, but a gift
fuperadded of free fovereign grace: God
planted and furniſhed the garden, and put
him into it, without any merit or co-ope-
ration of his.
But neither was the earth, which he was
fent to till, left in its original condition.
Many fine things have been faid of the fu-
perlative fruitfulneſs of the antedeluvian
foil; but how any came by the know-
ledge of it, is hard to fay. This, we are
fure, they learned not from Mofes; for he
gives it as the exprefs words of the fen-
fentence, Curfed is the ground for thy
"fake: thorns alfo and thiftles fhall it bring
"forth:" the great occafion of that toil
and labour which Lamech complained of,
becauſe of the ground which God had
curfed, and which he promiſes himſelf
relief from by his fon Noah. Accor-
dingly we find a promiſe made after the
66
*
deluge
after the entrance of SIN.
259
deluge to this fame Noah, that he would
no more curfe the ground for man's fake.
And thus every thing was made to help
forward the execution of the fentence, the
labour and forrow which was to attend
the human life, and to make him earn his
bread by the ſweat of his brows; which
has been the cafe of the generality ever
fince, however fome have fallen upon me-
thods to exempt themfelves from it; but
whether to their real advantage, is at beſt
very doubtful.
As the woman had the firft hand in the
tranfgreffion, fhe had her fhare allotted to
ber of the punishment; the forrows of con-
ception and child-bearing, which her daugh-
ters feel to this day. Befides, there was a
fort of fubjection on her part, and domi-
nion over her given to the hufband, fuch
as the perfect love which ſubſiſted in their
innocent ſtate could not admit of. But, af-
ter all, that the fentence of death was not
immediately put in execution, was a gracious
indulgence they had no reaſon to expect.
But however great man's lofs was in
his connections with the material fyftem,
and a prefent world, we have no reafon
to fay fo with regard to the ſpiritual. So
far from it, that by the conftitution of
Kk 2
grace,
260 The ſtate of MANKIND Eff. 12.
grace, (I cannot call it new, for it was
eſtabliſhed from eternity in the unchange-
able divine purpofe, and only then firſt
revealed to mankind); by this divine
conftitution, his connection with the fpiri-
tual world was incomparably clofer, and
eſtabliſhed on another fort of firm founda-
tion, than what he had in paradiſe; and his
profpects enlarged in proportion to ano-
ther kind of happinefs; and the enjoyment
thereof fecured againſt all events to end-
lefs eternity.
The account which Mofes gives of this
new revelation is very concife, but abun-
dantly fufficient for thoſe for whoſe uſe the
record was made. The Ifraelites had it
fufficiently explained in the bleffing of their
father Abraham, and the law given in the
wilderneſs, where they had nothing to do
for forty years but to hear and learn the
mind of God; and after ages, by the later
prophets, and the writings of the difciples
and apoſtles of Jefus: and yet, if the
account Mofes hath left us, of what was
ſpoken, and what was done, by the crea-
tor on that occafion, is rightly underſtood,
we will fee it was the fame revelation which
was publiſhed to the world by Jefus Chrift
and his apoſtles.
Of
{
A
after the entrance of SIN.
261
Of what the creator faid on this occa-
fion, Mofes has recorded no more than is
contained in the ſentence on the ferpent, viz.
That the woman fhould have a feed that
fhould bruiſe his head. Though the curfe
is pronounced in terms which apply lite-
rally to the inſtrument of feduction, yet
no perſon who confiders circumſtances can
doubt, that the bruifing the ferpent's head
ftrongly expreffes what the Apostle John
makes the Son of God's errand into this
world, to deſtroy the works of the devil. The
works of the devil are fin and death; and
when theſe are deſtroyed, nothing remains
but pure life; and thus deftroying the
works of the devil is of the fame import
with that faying of our Lord, that having
life in himſelf, he came to give eternal life
unto all that would come and receive it at
his hand.
That Adam took it thus, feems pretty
plain, from the name he gave his wife up-
on that occafion. She was to be the mo-
ther of all living before fhe got her name;
but now that fhe was to be the mother of
that feed who had all life in himſelf, and
from whom it was to be conveyed to thoſe
who were dead in trefpaffes and fins, fhe
was conſtituted the mother of all life, as the
original
1
262 The ſtate of MANKIND Eff. 12.
original word imports; as it is by him,
and him only, who raiſes the dead, that
the man, who certainly muſt die, can live
for ever.
But when we further confider what God
is faid to have done, we cannot help think-
ing, that all this was more fully explained
to our firſt parents. His driving them out
of paradife put an end to their firſt crea-
tion - life, and brought them into ſuch
circumſtances, that live they could not.
but by a new grant; and that, we are well
affured, could not be given but under a
new head, and that by free fovereign grace,
and a power equivalent to creating, raifing
them from the dead.
We are further told, he made them coats
or garments of fkins to cover their naked-
nefs. They were naked in paradiſe, and
were not afhamed fo long as they were in-
nocent; but fo foon as fin entered, fhame
came along with it: A fair intimation that
their nakedneſs lay in their fouls. It is
natural to put the queſtion, What ſkins
were theſe? Suppofing, what yet is denied
by moft, that they fed on flefh, could fo
many be killed for Adam and Eve? But
if we fuppofe, what indeed muſt be admit-
M
ted,
after the entrance of SIN. 263
1
ted, that God revealed to them his grant of
eternal life, and the conduct required on
their part; which is what our tranflators
call making a covenant; of which folemnity
a facrifice was an abfolutely neceſſary part,
as is clear from the cafe of Noah, Abra-
ham, and the Ifraelites, not to mention
the more private and particular ones; then
covering their nakednefs with the fkins of
the facrifice, was a fair emblem and re-
preſentation of that covering for fin which
God had provided for them, and all who
would be prevailed with to renounce their
fig-leaf coverings, and put on the Lord
Jefus. It was on this great foundation
that the conſtitution of grace, and the
grant of eternal life, were then eſtabliſhed,
and ever fince have ftood. Nor is it con-
ceivable how the butchering of beaſts,
fhedding their blood, and formally burn-
ing their fleſh in a fire prepared for the
purpoſe, could ever have been ſet up as a
piece of divine worſhip, on any lower au-
thority than that of God; nor even on
that, without explaining the deſign of it.
Mofes tells us further, that God placed
at the eaſt of the garden, cherubims, to
keep the way of the tree of life. The
cherubims,
+
264
The ftate of MANKIND Eff. 12.
cherubims, we know, were, of all others,
the moſt facred piece of furniture in the
tabernacle and temple; and no body
doubts of their being emblems of fome-
thing very facred. They were, without
difpute, defigned a fenfible repreſentation
of that exhibition of the divine glory which
Ezekiel faw in vifion, and which he knew
to be the cherubims. In them, or between
them, was the throne of God, the throne
of grace, the ſymbolical repreſentation of
his dwelling with men; and thence he
gave his oracles and reſponſes to thoſe who
confulted him. And thus they were a fen-
fible repreſentation of the whole frame of
the conftitution of grace. There was in-
deed no ſmall danger, that man, once ſe-
duced, might fall into the like error, and
imagine fome virtue in the material tree
of life. Very properly, therefore, and in
great mercy to him, he was expelled the
garden, and directed to another. object, the
true tree of life in the paradife of God.
On this obvious view, no body could
have doubted, that the cherubims fet up
on the eaſt of Eden were of the fame kind
with thoſe which the prophet Ezekiel faw,
and defigned to anſwer the fame purpoſe
1
with
after the entrance of SIN.
265
with the model of them in the tabernacle
and temple; which appears to have been
fo well known in Mofes's time, that the
workmen made them without any direc-
tion, except that they were to beat them
out of the fame piece of gold whereof the
propitiatory or mercy-feat was made. And
all would have been plain and cafy, had
not tranflators thought they met with a
flaming fword brandifhed or turning every
way, in the original of Mofes: and compa-
ring it with what was given as the reafon
of turning Adam and his wife out of pa-
radiſe, they imagined this was a guard of
angels brandifhing a fort of flaming fword
to fcare them from returning.
I will fay nothing of this notion, but
that the original gives no countenance to
it. The Hebrew word is indeed often u-
fed by Mofes, and the other facred writers,
for any killing or deftroying weapon; and
a fword among others. But one needs only
turn to any of the common dictionaries of
that language, to be fatisfied, that this is not
the natural and original meaning of the
word; but drying, fcorching, confuming,
all which are the effects of fire and flame;
whence
1
VOL.I.
L 1
266
The ftate of MANKIND Eff. 12.
whence it is by an eafy analogy transferred
to denote every thing which has fuch effects.
And thus we ſhall have nothing left us but
a flaming fire, the ordinary ſymbol of the
divine glory, refting on the cherubims;
and fo like Ezekiel's fire, involving itſelf,
or blazing every way, that one can hardly
help believing they were the fame.
Upon the whole, it must be acknowled-
ged, that the ſtate of mankind complexly
taken, was fo far from being made worfe,
that it was greatly bettered by the fall of
our firſt progenitors. For, befides the unex-
ceptionable fecurity, and the unspeakable
fuperexcellency of the new profpects, there
is one circumitance which vaftly enhances
the pleaſure, and lays the foundation of
the warmest gratitude and love, deep and
ftrong as can poffibly be imagined; and that
is the relation eftablished between man and
God's own Son, the new head of man-
kind.
The grace of the firſt creation, and the
peculiar favour fhown to man above the
other animals, called for fuitable returns
of gratitude. The favour was moſt fove-
reignly free; for when all was nothing,
there could be nothing to raiſe one crea-
ture
after the entrance of SIN. 267
ture above another, but the abfolute will
and pleaſure of the creator. Nor could man's
love and gratitude be ever carried ſo high
as the favour deferved. But as he had ne-
ver known, much leſs felt, himſelf in a-
ny other condition; he might eafily have
been tempted, as fome have been, to look
upon all as his creation-dues, and accor-
dingly have valued himſelf upon them.
But when, after the humbling intimation,
Duft thou art, and unto duft thou fhalt
66
66
return," he found himſelf on the very
brink of eternal deſtruction; while his own
confcience tormented him with the remem-
brance of what he had loft; what a ſweet
furpriſe muſt the proſpect of pardon have
given him! and how could he ever be
thankful enough! Efpecially when he found
fuperadded to this, (and ftrongly fecured
to him, in the new head provided in the
promiſed feed), a grant of all the perfec-
tion, glory, and happinefs of eternal life.
Surely nothing could equal the raptures of
love and gratitude he muſt then have felt,
but the Apoſtle's expreffion, if even that can
come up to it," a joy unspeakable, and full of
glory." Where the heart is thus formed on
the fovereign, condefcending grace,and love,
1
L12
and
1
268
The ftate of MANKIND E. 12,
}
and kindneſs of God to man, no com-
mandments of his can be grievous: nay,
the harder they feel to fleſh and blood, the
more pleaſure it gives to obey chearfully,
without asking questions. The royal law
of love is written on the heart; and all the
commandments of God are no more but
the native exercifes and actings of it. So
that it is quite aftoniſhing how it should ever
have entered any one's head, that the doc-
trine of free fovereign grace fhould have any
malignant aſpect on the practice of holi-
nefs, when indeed it is the only fure
ground on which gratitude and love can
ſtand. And perfect love is perfect holiness.
Where love is wanting, all is darkneſs in
the foul, except the terrors of incenfed
majesty, and almighty power, which an
evil confcience, in the least awakened, will
fet in a moft dreadful light: and no mo-
tive is left to obedience, but that very bafe
and flaviſh one, the fear of puniſhment;
which is utterly inconfiftent with that
glorious liberty of the fons of God; which
is the privilege of thofe who are raiſed to
the high dignity of being heirs of God,
and co-heirs with Jefus Chrift, his only
begotten Son.
Thus
after the entrance of SiN.
269
Thus happy, thus ravishingly happy,
muſt the firſt pair of finners have been on
the very unexpected revelation of the con-
ftitution of grace, and the comfortable
profpect opened up in the promifed feed.
And thus happy might all their poſterity
have been in the fame profpect, had it not
been for that woful thing they call liberty,
which the world has been fo madly fond
on; and which yet is the great imperfec-
tion of human nature, and the inlet of all
the evils which have infefted human life,
and of that dreadful apoftafy which in-
volved the whole world in utter deſtruc-
tion. The foundation of it is laid in ig-
norance and folly; the want of that wif-
dom which ſhould keep one firm and ftea-
dy to his true intereft; and in that ten-
dency, fo deeply rooted in our conftitu-
tion, to purfue what to us appears to be
our intereft.
This is no arbitrary thing, nor is there
any
choice left to us here; we can no more
believe or disbelieve, love or hate, by bare-
ly willing it, than we can walk in the
clouds, or ride on the wings of the wind.
In fpite of ourfelves, and all we can do to
the contrary, we muſt believe what ap-
pears
270
The ſtate of MANKIND Eff. 12.
pears to us to be true, and doubt of what
does not. We muſt love what appears to
us lovely, and pleaſes; and muft hate, in
fome degrce, or at leaft be cold and indif-
ferent to what difpleaſes, or appears hate-
ful. So long, then, as the wonderful grace
of the creator, in the aftoniſhing profpect
of pardon and eternal life in the promiſed
feed, was known and believed, the heart
continued firmly knit in the pleaſant bands
of love and gratitude.
The evidence of this was clear and
ftrong to thoſe who received this unfpeak-
able confolation from the creator's own
mouth. But thofe who had no more but
the tradition, were not in the fame advan-
tageous ſituation. The tradition had in-
deed fuch advantages as made it worthy
to be received and believed; but might be
overlooked and neglected then, as well as,
the written tradition is now. The world,
with all its allurements and affrightments,
hath free accefs by the fleſh and external
fenfes fpiritual and eternal things, how-
ever infinitely more excellent, are unfeen,
and thence readily imagined to be remote;
fo that there is nothing to balance the
heart againſt preſent fenfe and feeling, but
A
faith,
after the entrance of SIN.
271
faith, the belief of the tradition; which,
in its very nature, gives evidence and ſub-
fiftence to fuch facts as are unfeen, and
fubfift only in hope; and as this is weak
or ftrong, fuch in proportion will be the
ftrength and weakneſs of the impreffion
made by the things believed on the heart
and affections; and fuch muft be the fen-
timents and inward feelings of the belie-
ver.
One way by which the original tradi-
tion, or, which is the fame thing, the di-
vine law, eſtabliſhing the meafures of
grace, and the duties arifing from them,
is violated or broken in upon, is, when
the fenfible pleafures of a prefent world
impoſe ſo far on the unguarded mind, as
to take poffeffion of the heart, as moſt wor-
thy of our purfuit; by which the heart is
fo cooled toward God and his grace, as in-
fenfibly to loſe all regard to what we have
either to hope or to fear from him. This
is the confequence of our natural igno-
rance
This is a ftate fo much below a reaſon-
able creature, that it is not conceiveable
how it can hold, unleſs we can fuppofe
the original tradition altogether loft, and
men
مة الحالية
The ftate of MANKIND Eff. 12.
272
6
f
nen left abfolute atheiſts; a cafe, which,
by all the information we have, never hap-
pened. Wofully corrupted it has been,
and religion degenerated into the moſt filly
fuperftition. But that, inftead of deſtroy-
ing, greatly increaſeth the occafions of re-
morfe; when the man, reflecting on his
own conduct, difcovers, by the light of
tradition, that he has offended God; and
finds reafon to fufpect, that this great be-
ing is become his enemy, from whom he
has nothing to expect but evil. Then God
appears no more a proper object of love;
but, on the contrary, of dread and terror;
and by this the feeds of enmity are deeply
rooted in the heart.
t
Numberlefs are the methods that have
been tried by men to placate the divine an-
ger, and, by recommending themſelves to
his favour, to quiet a guilty confcience: but
there is only one that can anfwer the purpoſe
effectually; namely, the revelation of the
grace of God in Chrift, and the firm be-
lief of the promiſe of pardon and life
through him, as perfect wifdom has laid
the plan, in the eternal conftitution of
grace. Where-ever, therefore, any plan
is fet up in oppofition to this, as many
}
have
after the entrance of SIN. 273
have been ſet up by the fanciful wiſdom
of men; in all theſe numberlefs cafes,
there is a plain apoftafy from the original
ſtate the creator defigned for fallen men.
The chief of them is that plan of moral go-
vernment, whereby man is left to ftand or
fall on his own bottom; on which all the
different methods of working for life, and
ferving God, as they call it, are grafted.
As all theſe, and indeed the whole plan
of moral government founded in our no-
tions of what we call justice, and ſo far lay-
ing a foundation of reſting on our own
merits in fome fhape or other, muſt be in
the fame degree deviations from what God
has declared to be the meaſure of his go-
vernment, viz. his fovereignly free grace
and mercy in Chrift; according to which,
the only way a finner can live to God, is
by the grace lodged in the Redeemer's
hand; therefore every attempt to recom-
mend one to the divine favour, or to live by
any other means, is the moſt direct and af-
frontive rebellion againſt our creator and
fovereign; and, in reality, a madly info-
lent attempt to enter upon the poffeffion
of life, whether God will or not.
Whatever was the firſt apoflafy of the
antedeluvian world, all fleth had in fact cor-
VOL. I.
M m
rupted
274
The ſtate of MANKIND Eff. 12.
rupted themſelves to fuch a degree, that we
find the creator declaring, that he repented of
having made fuch a creature. It is eafy to
fee, that fuch a being as God is, not only
the poffeffor, but abfolute proprietor of
perfect knowledge, underſtanding, and
wiſdom, could never do any thing which
he fhould wiſh had not been done; an ef-
fential property of repentance among men.
But when the creator was about to undo
what he had done, by deftroying mankind,
and the earth which they had defiled and
polluted, human language had no word to
exprefs the fentiment by, but repenting.
But where that corruption which ſpread fo
wide, took its firft rife, is not fo eafy to be
diſcovered. We may indeed fay, with good
affurance, that it could not happen until the
love of God was extinguiſhed in the heart of
man; nor could that be, fo long as the
knowledge of the true God continued there.
But whether this knowledge was loft by
his being ſwallowed up in the cares and
pleaſures of a prefent world, or by miſta-
king fomething which was but a creature,
for the true God, and thus transferring
the properties and powers of the creator to
an idol of their own imaginations, we can-
not
after the entrance of SIN.
275
not pofitively fay. This laft feems to have
fome countenance, from what God faid of
the imaginations of man's heart, that they
were all of them "only evil continually."
From what may be ſeen in the progreſs of
the preſent race of men, it ſeems moſt
likely, that they went hand-in-hand, and
forwarded and fupported one another.
Children, for a number of years after
their entrance into the world, ſubſiſt in a
ſtate of abfolute dependence on their pa-
rents, and thoſe under whoſe care they
are put; but are quite infenfible of it. They
have no notion of property; but think
themſelves injured if any thing they take
a fancy to, however hurtful, is detained
from them; yet are very fond of thofe
who are kind to them, and appear to love
them. To ſtrangers, however deferving,
they have an averfion; and a ſmall matter
increaſes it to hatred. And thus, fo long
as their wants are fupplied, they look no
further, nor mind any of the other nume-
rous dependencies they are under.
In time, by obfervation and inftruction,
they come to difcover their connection
with a prefent world; and that there is
fomething they have to hope or fear both
M m 2
from
276 The ſtate of MANKIND Eff.12.
Ꭼ.
from the men and things about them.
What pleaſes them in both, they continue
extremely fond of, Thofe who help them
forward, they love; and often with great
warmth: thofe who ftand in their way,
they have an averfion to, and are ready to
hate as violently. Hence their great bufi-
nefs is, to recommend themſelves, and en-
gage the efteem and friendfhip of all about
them.
And thus, I am afraid, the bulk
of mankind ſpend their days, feeking ho-
nour one of another. Any higher powers
they hardly think of, except when alarm-
ed with what threatens danger, or unleſs
they have been taught ſomething about in-
vifible powers; but even that feldom goes
farther, than fuperftitious fears of they
know not what, and wishing to be kept
out of their hands.
The men of the firft ages were better
taught, and lived too long, to reft in fuch
a childiſh ignorance, and way of living.
The tradition of a creator and fupreme
governor, to whom they were fubject, and
to whom they owed all their pleaſures,
was freſh, and, in a manner, recent, down
to Noah and the deluge. But who, and
what kind of being this creator might be,
was
after the entrance of SIN.
27
was not fo eaſily perceived. Swallowed up,
as men very naturally are, in the cares and
pleaſures of a prefent world; in the enjoy-
ment of theſe they as naturally place their
happineſs; and the greater improvement
is made by the fine arts, the fources of
pleaſure are proportionally increaſed, and
the more are the hearts of thofe who feel
that pleaſure, knit to the objects which raife
and fupport it. This cannot fail to dead-
en the heart to all other enjoyments; to
thoſe eſpecially of the fpiritual kind, and
that honour which cometh from God only.
It was not until Lamech's fons brought in
their improvements of theſe forts of plea-
fures, that mankind came to be corrupted
to fuch a height as brought upon them the
deluge.
In this ftate of mind, it followed of
courfe, that they fhould pay their adora-
tion and homage to that being on whom
all their pleaſures were fuppofed to depend;
and who had, or was imagined to have,
the beſtowing of them. No body who
knows the creator will doubt, that it would
have been eaſy for him to have fupported
man in being by the fame immediate power
which gave him exiftence, without any
means
278
Eff. 12.
The ſtate of MANKIND
or under-agents; but as man was incapa-
ble of perceiving fuch power, this great e-
vil might have followed, that he might be
in a manner naturally led to imagine him-
himſelf independent, and thus to caft off
all regard to any fuperior whatfoever. Man
was therefore very wifely fo connected with
the material fyftem, the influence of the
heavens, and the fruits of the earth, that
he could not mifs to feel very fenfibly his
dependence upon them. But hereby again
he was infenfibly betrayed into the imagi-
nation, that thefe mechanical under-agents,
the powers of the heavens, were the only
fuperiors on which he had any dependence.
Thefe, he knew, not only regulated the times
and the feafons, but likewife 'produced all
the materials which were the fund by which
the pleaſures and enjoyments of life were
maintained. Accordingly the heavens, or
fome one or other of their powers, were the
fole objects of the idolatry of the ancient
nations; until, by the lofs of that branch of
knowledge, they funk, in the latter times
of Heathenifm, into fuch profound igno-
rance of the nature of the gods whom they
ferved, that they really worshipped they
knew not what. It continued, however,
in fuch credit down to the Babyloniſh cap-
tivity,
'
after the entrance of SIN.
279
tivity, that the Jews themſelves, the beſt
inſtructed nation on the earth, were then
madly fond of it.
The great creator was not wanting, in
every period, to give fubftantial evidence,
that all theſe were no other than his in-
ftruments, by which he exerted his al-
mighty power. How long the exhibition
of the divine glory in the cherubims was
continued, one cannot fay: but as facri-
fices certainly were continued down to
Noah, it is very likely there were fome fa-
cred fymbols of the divine prefence, be-
fore which that folemn piece of worſhip
was performed. And it is not improbable,
that what is called the glory of God, like
the pillar of fire and cloud among the If-
raelites, might be abufed fo far as to be
worſhipped in place of God. We read no-
thing of the creator's converfations with
men after that with Cain; though it feems
almoſt certain that they did continue, by the
cafe of Noah, where God's converfation with
him concerning the flood is mentioned in the
record as a thing of courfe. Enoch's walk-
ing with God feems likewife to fuppofe it.
But however that was, it is certain Enoch
had the ſpirit of prophecy; and that he,
as
280
Eff. 12.
The ftate of MANKIND
3
as well as Noah, was employed to warn,
and, if poffible, to reclaim, à careleſs
thoughtleſs world; and when God took
him to himſelf, before he arrived near the
middle of the then age of men, it was a
fenfible evidence, that there was another
and better ftate than the prefent one, with
all the advantages that could be made of it.
But when nothing elfe would do, Jeho-
vah effectually ſhowed that he himself was
the creator and fovereign of the univerſe;
and that all thofe things which the folly of
mankind had ſet up againſt him, were no
other than his minifters, which he could
employ for what purpoſes he pleaſed: as
he then did employ them for the moft aw-
ful purpoſe, even the utter deftruction of
thoſe very men who were fo foolish as to
worfhip them. The powers of the heavens,
whofe ordinary bufinefs it was to keep eve-
ry thing in the place and order the creator
had put them in, appear to have been ei-
ther fufpended, or employed in fuch a
contrary way, that the waters returned
upon the earth, much in the fame manner
as before their firſt feparation: fo that we
need be at no lofs to find water enough,
not only to overflow, but to diffolve, the
earth into its original chaotic ſtate. And
the
after the entrance of SIN. 281
the reforming it again by the fame means,
exhibits a power perfectly fimilar to the
firft creation, fo that no room is left for
doubting, but that he who brought on
and removed the deluge, was moft cer-
tainly the creator, and abfolute proprietor,
of the univerfe.
This, it might have been thought,
fhould have ended the difpute for ever.
From this dreadful æra mankind took a
new beginning, and, in fome reſpect, a
new condition. Noah became as much the
common parent of mankind as Adam was.
By the account we have of his way of ma-
king his acknowledgements to God, and
God's way
with him on that great occa-
fion, we are led more fully into proper
views of what was the ſtate of mankind be-
fore, and what has been ſo ever fince that
time.
When Noah was directed to make the
ark, he was commanded to take of every
clean beaſt and fowl by fevens, and only
the male and female of the reft; and at
his coming out, we are told, that he took
of every clean beaft and fowl, and offered
them as whole burnt-offerings, on the al-
tar which he reared for that purpoſe. It
VOL. I.
N n
is
282
The ſtate of MANKIND Eff. 12.
is obvious from this account, that the dif
tinction between clean and unclean had
not its firſt riſe in what is called the cere-
monial law given by Mofes; ; nay, that
it had been eſtabliſhed from the time that
facrifices were ordained a piece of worſhip.
Men, it appears, were not left at liberty
to offer what they pleaſed, but what they
were directed of God, any more than they
might devife for themſelves the terms of
pardon and acceptance with him. This
perfuafion continued ſtrong down through
the darkeſt times of Heathenifm; where
every Deity was fuppofed to have choſen
fome particular kind of animal, and could
not be rightly propitiated by offering any
other.
We have the effect of this facrifice
ftrongly marked out to us. God fmelled
a fweet favour, fay our tranflators; a fa-
vour of reft, fay others, rather more pro-
perly. What could there be in the ſmoke
of burnt carcafes of beafts? And with
the fame propriety it may be aſked, What
was there to give reft or pleaſure to fuch
a being as God, fo as to make him fay
to himſelf, that he would no more deſtroy
the earth for the wickednefs of man? Surely
nothing
after the entrance of SIN.
283
nothing in the beaſts, or in the ſmell of their
burning: but there was enough in what
they repreſented, the facrifice of his belo-
ved Son, in whom he was always perfect-
ly well pleaſed; and in whom, and his
perfect obedience unto the death, all his
counfels and purpofes concerning man are
founded.
But however firm and unchangeable the
divine purpoſes are, they can have no ef-
fect on us until they are declared. And
thus God bleſſed Noah and his fons. The
bleffing of God is common in every one's
mouth, but the knowledge of the true im-
port of it is not fo common. As it is cer-
tain it cannot ftop in mere words, or good
wiſhes, as mens do, it therefore can be no
other than the exerting the divine power
for them, ſo far as the bleffing is intended
to go. The bleffing of Noah was having
God's covenant established with him: for thus
the phraſe is commonly rendered. But
when we come to confider the terms in
which it is expreffed, there is nothing like
what we underſtand by a covenant; nay,
fo far from it, that it is eſtabliſhed in the
fame terms with fowl, cattle, and every
beaſt of the field; which, furely, entered
into
Nn 2.
284
The ftate of MANKIND Eff. 12.
into no mutual agreement with him. And
after all, it comes out to be nothing elfe,
but declaring the purpoſe he had made in
himſelf, that all flefh fhould no more be
cut off by a flood.
But the bleffing on Noah and his fons
extends further. The order given the firſt
pair to increaſe and multiply is repeated;
and fomething very like the dominion they
had over the creatures is given to him and
his fons, as thefe are faid to be delivered
into his hand; and now, for the firſt time,
they are given unto them for food, as the
green herb and the fruits of the earth had
been formerly. And in all this, God
fhows himſelf the proprietor of all; that
man has no right to any thing, nor can
have any, but by his fovereign free gift.
:
But all this relates purely to a prefent
life, and their comfortable fubfiſtence in the
fleſh and it would be very ſtrange if this
formal bleffing extended no farther; as far-
ther it cannot, if what follows has no fur-
ther import than tranflators have com-
monly given; that is, only a reſtraint laid
on them from eating blood, and a prohi-
bition of murder, with an order to avenge
it; which perhaps has induced fome
learned men to pitch upon this as the fole
reafon
after the entrance of SIN.
285
reafon of the prohibition of blood, left
it ſhould inure them to cruelty, and fhed-
ding the blood of one another.
But on a ſerious confideration of the
terms in which blood is forbidden here,
and comparing it with the reafon given
for the prohibition in the Jewish law, the
whole will appear to have a much higher
intention, and to carry a repetition of the
original promife of the feed of the wo-
man bruiſing the ferpent's head, more ful-
ly expreffed. The reafon given in the
Jewish law why they ſhould not eat blood
is a good one, that God had fet it apart for
the altar, to make atonement for their lives
or fouls. And thus it was very proper to
fay, that he would require the life of man
at the hand of every beaſt: and in what
other fenfe it can be faid with any pro-
priety at all, is certainly very hard to con-
ceive.
And this gives the key to what follows,
as fomething infinitely higher than a pro-
hibition of murder, and a threatening
gainſt the murderer. However the inftitu-
tion of facrificing beafts, and the promiſe
of pardon annexed, was a fufficient inti-
mation for the finner to reft his hopes, and
even his affurance, upon; yet was it certain-
ly
286 The ftate of MANKIND
Eff. 12.
ly true, that the blood of bulls and of
goats
could by no means take away fin, and
therefore left the faith and hope of the
worshipper to reft folely on the promiſe.
But when God fent his only and beloved
Son to be the faviour of the world, and
to make himſelf a facrifice for fin; that is,
his life a ranfom for theirs; and thus,
through death, deftroying the devil, the
firſt and arch murderer, who brought.
death upon all mankind by fin, or, in the
Hebrew dialect, fhed the blood of their
lives; then the cafe was altered, and faith
and hope in the fulleſt affurance had a
firm and ftrong foundation to ftand on:
"For (as the Apoſtle reafons) he who fpa-
86 red not his own Son, but delivered him
for us all, how fhall he not with him
"alfo freely give us all things?'
66
up
Thus, it is evident, God requires the
blood of every man at the hand of the man,
i. e. the great or mighty perſon, his, or
every man's brother. And it follows moſt
properly, that he, (for whofo is not in the
text), that he who had fhed, and whoſe
trade it was to fhed, the blood of man, or to
bring him under the power of death, fhould
have his own blood fhed, or be deſtroyed
by man. And the reaſon given is ſtrong
in
after the entrance of SIN.
287
in this light: For, as God made man in
his own image, the attempting his de-
ftruction must be the moft enormous
crime a creature could commit, and defer-
ved the moſt exemplary puniſhment; viz.
that he, the murderer of man, ſhould be de-
ſtroyed by the man who was his perfect image,
or that feed of the woman who ſhould
bruiſe the old ferpent's head. Thus the
bleffing of Noah and his fons was per-
fected, by thus fecuring for them the per-
fecting bleffing. And, in confequence of
the favour of reft which arofe on this great
facrifice, the intimation of the divine pur-
pofe about the earth, and all the inhabi-
tants of it, man and beaſt, was given, that
he would no more curfe the ground for
man's fake, nor deftroy the earth, as he
had done, with a deluge.
But after all this, we have a ſtrange ac-
count of this great man who was fo pecu-
liarly favoured, and had the character of
a juſt man, and perfect in his generatión;
that though he had lived fix hundred
years
before the flood, and none can tell how
long after, for the thing very probably
happened near the end of his life; yet
then only he began to be a huſbandman,
planted a vineyard, and knew fo little of
the
•
{
1
288
The ſtate of MANKIND Eff. 12.
the nature of wine, that he drank to ex-
cefs; nay, was drunk to fuch a pitch, that he
had not fo much command of himſelf as
to cover his nakedneſs; and that, upon awa-
king, he immmediately falls a-bleffing fome
of his children, and curfing others for their
undutiful behaviour; and both by the ſpi-
rit of prophecy. Thus I believe all the tranſ-
lations repreſent it. But the original phraſe,
Gen.ix. 20. “Noah began to be an huſband-
66
man," need not be fo underſtood as if that
had been the first time he practifed huſban-
dry, but only that it was the buſineſs he fol-
lowed after the flood; and the word rendered
drunk, does not always fignify the ſtupifying
effect of wine, but whatever puts men into
fuch a ſtate as wine doth, locking up the fen-
ſes to external objects. And thus the hiſtory
feems to carry in it fomething very facred,
which made Ham's conduct not only undu-
tiful to his father, but highly profane in it-
felf. Every body knows, that it was the
cuſtom of the patriarchs to bleſs their chil-
dren before their death; and when there
were more than one, to convey the primi-
tive bleffing of the promiſed feed to that
one of whom he was to deſcend.
This, furely, muſt have been a matter of
too great moment to be left to the difpofal
of
after the entrance of SIN.
J
289
of any man whatſoever; and leaſt of all,
to the caprice of a man juſt awaked from
a fit of drunkennefs. It is evident that it
could not be done without particular di-
vine direction. Thus we find Abraham
inftructed, that in Ifaac his feed fhould be
called as the child of the promife. And by
what we find Ifaac did when about to convey
the bleffing to his fon, Gen. xxvii. 25. drink-
ing wine in fome particular manner feems to
have been a part of that folemnity. When
the Apoſtle Paul was wrapt up to the third
heavens, and had his very extraordinary
revelations, he could not fay whether he
was in or out of the body. If he was in a
divine ecſtaſy, which is moſt probable, he
could have had no more care of his body
than Noah had of his. And when the
whole of Noah's character, and the fpecial
divine favour and grace ſhown him by
God, are confidered, together with his pro-
phetic bleffing and curfing his children,
how much more reaſonable is it to think,
that he was in fuch an ecftafy, than op-
preffed with the fumes of the wine he had
drunk: A very improper preparation, one
ſhould think, for the fpirit of prophecy.
In confequence of the indignity offered
him by Ham, he might reaſonably enough
VOL. I.
begin
оо
290 Th ftate of MANKIND, &c. Eff. 12.
begin as he does, by curfing, or rather by
declaring the curfe to be refting where the
event afterwards made it appear. But even
this he doth not like one under the influence
of refentment: he paffes by Ham, the of-
fender, and all the elder children of Ham,
and lodges the curfe on Canaan; where,
we know, it has been punctually fulfilled.
The bleffing is as extraordinary as the curſe.
Though, by all that appears in the hiſtory,
Japhet, the eldeſt of Noah's fons, was e-
very way as dutiful as Shem the youngeſt,
yet upon this laft is the bleffing made to
reft; whether we take the words as our
tranflators have rendered them, "Bleffed
"be
be the Lord God of Shem;" or rather,
as there is neither verb nor tenfe in the o-
riginal, Bleffed is Shem of the Lord his
God," which agrees better with what
follows; for it was not to God, but to
Shem, and his brother Japhet, who was
joined with him in the bleffing, that Ca-
naan was doomed to be a fervant. But
the bleffing of God is not conveyed as e-
ftates are among us, either by feniority or
merit. It is free and fovereign, and free-
`ly given where the great proprietor plea-
fes. What fome learned men have talked
of the prerogatives of the eldeſt line, is ſo
(C
66
far
ABRAHA M.
291
far from having any foundation in the fa-
cred hiſtory, that feniority there appears,
in almoſt every inftance, to be fet afide,
and entirely difregarded.
IT
13. Abraham.
might have been expected, that the
dreadful deftruction of the old world,
the diſtinguiſhing favour fhown to Noah,
and the bleffing renewed, and entailed on
him and his defcendents, fhould have fe-
cured the attachment of the new world to
that God who had thus manifefted at once
his eternal power and Godhead, and the
ſovereignty of his mercy and grace. But
it foon appeared, that the creator and fo-
vereign of the world was not miſtaken
when he faid, "That the imaginations of
"man's heart were only evil continually."
How foon the apoftafy began, or how long
Noah's defcendents continued in their ad-
herence to the true God and his worship,
cannot be eaſily determined. It is very pro-
bable, that Noah's curfe would fit heavy
upon Ham and his children, and that they
would not longer continue to be devout a-
dorers of that God who had, as they might
think,
002
292
Eff. 13.
ABRAHAM.
think, fhown fuch partiality againſt the
younger brother, and doomed him to fer-
vitude. Among them, however, the defec-
tion feems to have begun; very probably
under Nimrod; who was fo diftinguiſhed
in his day, that his name went into a pro-
verb, and gave rife to the fabulous hiſtory
of the old Affyrian monarchy; which yet
did not take its rife until within a few
centuries of the date which they make the
end of it.
As the worship of the heavens was un-
doubtedly the firſt and moſt natural idola-
try, the builders of the tower of Babel
feem to have had more in view than barely
to prevent their being fcattered abroad on
the face of the earth; though even that was
bad enough, and little, if any thing, fhort
of a direct rebellion againſt their creator,
who had ordered them to be fruitful, and
multiply, and replenish the earth. It can
never be fuppofed they were fo foolish as
to imagine they could build a tower on a
plain, which fhould overtop all the moun-
tains that furrounded it, much leſs fhould
reach to the heavens, as our tranflators
have made them fay. They propofed, indeed,
that the top or ſummit of it ſhould be to
the
ABRAHA M.
293
the heavens; which cannot be conceived
to have any other meaning than that it
fhould ferve as a temple or altar to the
heavens.
This one complex object, by which all
the operations of what they call nature
are maintained and carried on, came in
time to be divided into a multitude of i-
maginary gods, as the different powers,
cffects, and operations, of that wonderful
machine, happened to be pitched upon by
different worthippers. And by what we
find Joſhua ſaying to the Ifraelites, of the
gods which their fathers ferved beyond the
flood, it would feem that the apoftafy had
become very general, if not univerfal,
when it pleafed God to take a further
courſe for maintaining and fupporting
right religion in the world, by feparating
Abraham and his family to be witneffes
for him againſt the prevailing idolatry and
falfe worſhip.
Whether or not Abraham himfelf was
involved in that idolatry which we are
plainly enough told prevailed in his father
Terah's family, we have no evidence on ei-
ther fide. The Jewith pretended traditions
about him are ill-contrived fables. How-
ever, there is not the leaſt ground to ima-
gine
294
Eff. 13.
ABRAHA M.
gine that he merited the extraordinary fa-
vour which was fhown him, when he was
called to leave his father's houſe, and to
go to a land, which, as yet, he was an ut-
ter ftranger to; which command he never-
thelefs readily obeyed, and went out, not
knowing whither he went.
At what time the command was given to
Abraham to depart from his father's houfe,
whether before his father and his family
left Ur, or after he fettled in Haran, we
are not told; though the firſt is moſt like-
ly. For though the leaving Ur be men-
tioned as Terah's deed; yet, as we are told,
that it was with an intention of going in-
to the land of Canaan, it would ſeem to
have been in confequence of the order gi-
ven his fon Abraham. In either cafe it
might be very juftly faid, as we find it is
oftener than once, that God brought him
out of Ur of the Chaldees. It feems alfo
to have happened toward the end of Terah's
life; for Haran the ſon of Terah had not
only been married, but left children, who
appear likewiſe to have been married: and
though nothing is faid of Nahor coming a-
long with them, yet, by what we find af-
terward of his family being fettled at Ha-
ran,
ABRAHAM.
295
ran, where Terah died, it would feem that
he did.
But however that might be, which is
of little moment to us on either fide, the
command given to Abraham muſt have
been attended with undoubted evidence
that it came from God. We are not told,
as on fome other occafions, whether there
was any fenfible appearance of God to
him, or in what manner the command was
given. It is indeed hard, or rather impoffi-
ble, for us, in our preſent ſituation, to con-
ceive how thoſe divine appearances, viſions,
and dreams, in which God appeared, and
fpake to Abraham, and the other patri-
archs, could be certainly diſtinguiſhed, fo
as there might be no poffibility of an im-
pofition: but one muſt have very poor no-
tions of God, who can imagine it impoſ-
fible for him to do what we are unable to
conceive how it can be done. The prophet
gives us a hint from God himſelf, which
may ſatisfy any fober inquirer: "He that
"hath my word, let him ſpeak my word
boldly: what is the chaff to the wheat? Is
66 not my
word like a fire, and a hammer that
"breaks the rocks afunder?" As much as
86
to fay, The word of God diſtinguiſhes it-
felf
296
Eff. 13.
ABRAHAM.
felf by that fingular authority, majeſty,
and power, attending it, which it is im-
poffible for any to conceive unleſs they feel
it. But they who do, feel in their heart
a conviction of a kind very different from,
and as much fuperior to, what the moſt
perfect demonſtration can produce, as the
word of the great creator and fovereign of
the univerfe doth, in regard of evidence
and efficacy, furpaſs the reaſonings and
deductions of man.
Along with this command, there was
given what is commonly called God's
covenant with Abraham. But neither in
this, nor in any of the repetitions of it, is
there the leaft appearance of what men
commonly mean by a covenant; which
cannot fubfift but by a mutual agreement,
on certain terms and conditions to be per-
formed by each party. We fhall make no
remarks here upon the proper meaning of
the original word: it is fufficient to ob-
ferve, that in the whole of that divine
tranfaction with Abraham, which we ren-
der God's covenant, there is nothing found
but free gratuitous declarations of what
God had purpofed to do, and to give;
which were all of fuch a nature as A-
braham had not the leaft fhadow of any
right
ABRAHA M.
297
right or title to expect, viz. That he
would make a great nation of him; that
he would blefs him, and make his name
great; that he would blefs thofe who bleff-
ed him, and curfe thofe who curfed him;
that he would make him a bleffing; and
that all the families of the earth fhould be
bleffed in him.
Thefe words need no comment to thofe
who know what the divine bieffing imports.
This lies at the foundation of all, and ex-
tends to every thing that God has determi-
ned to do for completing the perfection and
happineſs of any of his creatures; compre-
hending at once the glory and felicity of
the world to come, and all that is neceffa-
ry to prepare and fit them for the perfect
enjoyment of it. Thus we find the import
of bleſſing explained by God himſelf, when
he faid to Abraham, "I am thy fhield,
"and exceeding great reward:" and yet
"further, when he promiſed, that he would
66
be a God to him, and his feed after him."
But however great and comprehenſive
this promife was, and indeed the divine
bleffing is the utmost any creature can
poffibly receive, or, we may fay, the crea-
tor can give; yet it was not peculiar to
Abraham, but extends to all that ever ſhall
believe
VOL. I.
РР
298
Eff. 13.
ABRAHA M.
#
believe in God as he did. What diftin-
guifhed the covenant, or grant made to
him, from that which is common to other
believers, was, that it contained particular
promifes, which may be called temporal, for
this reafon, that though they ultimately
referred to the ſpiritual and eternal world,
yet were they all to be literally accompliſh-
ed in this. Thefe temporal promifes may
be reduced to the three following heads,
viz. Perfonal bleffings on Abraham him-
felf. A numerous pofterity defcending
from him. And eſpecially, a peculiar feed,
in whom all the families of the earth were
to be bleffed.
We need not enlarge on what we call tem-
poral, perfonal bleffings; of theſe his hifto-
ry gives an ample detail. He was very rich
in cattle, in filver, and in gold he got a
great name by his victory over the four
kings, and was accordingly entertained and
reſpected by the moſt eminent perfons of
that age; and his name celebrated not
only in the facred, but in the moſt an-
cient and authentic Heathen hiftorians.
The very numerous tribes of Ishmael-
ites and Edomites, to fay nothing of his
fons by Keturah, together with the poſte-
rity of Jacob, the chofen line, abundantly
verify
ABRAHA M.
299
verify the fulfillment of the promiſe of a nu-
merous offspring. But what chiefly deferves
our notice, is, the promiſe of a peculiar feed,
in whom all the families of the earth ſhould
be bleſſed. It is unneceffary to prove here,
what the event has made fo plain, viz. that
this feed was that divine perfon who ap-
peared in the world under the name of
JESUS CHRIST. It is fufficient to obſerve,
that the original promife of the feed of the
woman, which had formerly lain in com-
mon among the children of Shem, then
came to be limited to Abraham, and his
defcendents; the higheſt privilege and dig-
nity that could be conferred on any of man-
kind: and that, in after times, we find the
fame promiſe further limited, firft to the fa-
mily of Jacob, and, laft of all, to that of
David, where it ftood until the fulfillment
of it.
As this great promife was the founda-
tion of all that faith and hope in God
which was ever found among the children
of Adam, and as the faith of this had no-
thing but the word and promife of God
to reft upon, it was neceffary that the
faithfulneſs and ability of the promiſer
fhould be well inſtructed; eſpecially when
fuch
Pp 2
300
Eff. 13.
ABRAHAM.
fuch a long tract of time, near two thouſand
years, was to intervene before the fulfill-
ment of it. Accordingly there were ſeve-
ral intermediate promifes given, all tend-
ing to this one great iffue. As thoſe made
to Abraham were the moſt remarkable,
and on which the greateſt ftrefs was laid
in after times, to them we fhall at prefent
confine ourſelves.
The temporal bleffings heaped on him
in fuch a remarkable manner, naturally
tended to confirm his faith and confidence
in that God, who had promifed at the fame
time to give him a numerous iffue. The
only thing that looks like a condition was,
God's command to go into Canaan. On
his obedience to this, indeed, all depended;
becauſe all the promiſes were to be fulfilled
there, and there only. But it is very evident,
that theſe promifes were given him, not as a
reward of his obedience, but to excite and
encourage him to obey the command;
and his obedience was the effect, and at
the fame time the evidence, of a very
ftrong faith, which (as the Apoſtle puts
the cafe) could make the bare promiſe of
God overbalance fo many difficulties and
difcouragements.
No
}
ABRAHA M.
301 -
No fooner was he entered into Canaan,
than he received an additional promiſe,
that God would give that land to his feed.
It is the ftyle of a fovereign proprietor,
who has a right to do what he will with
his own and the donation is abfolutely
free, without any
the leaſt reſtriction or
limitation whatfoever. The fame promife
was renewed to him fome years after, when
he returned from Egypt, and Lot and his
family were feparated from him; with a
further promiſe, of giving him a very nu-
merous feed.
But, many years after, we find him com-
plaining, that, notwithſtanding all theſe
promiſes, and the additional affurance
that God was his fhield or protector, and
exceeding great reward, yet he had no fon
of his own body, and that one born in his
houſe was likely to be his heir. On this
he receives a further affurance, that he
fhould have for his heir one who fhould
come forth of his own bowels; and that
of him there fhould defcend fuch a nume-
rous iffue, as fhould be like the ſtars of hea-
ven for multitude. And upon this follows
what has been conflructed a formal cove-
nant when, at the divine command, he
took
302
Eff. 13.
ABRAHAM,
A
took a heifer of three years old, a fhe
goat, and a ram, each likewiſe of three
years old; and, befides thefe, a turtle
dove and a young pigeon: and having
divided them, and laid one half oppofite
to the other, a fmoking furnace, and
a burning lamp, paffed between the pie-
ces: A rite which we find practiſed in
after times at making covenants or folemn
agreements among men.
But when we confider the hiſtory as it
lies before us, this folemnity appears de-
figned purely as a fign to Abraham, for
confirming his faith in the promiſe which
God had made him, of giving that land
for an inheritance: for we find Abraham
faying, "Lord God, whereby fhall I know
"that I fhall inherit it?" and it was in an-
fwer to this that the fign was given him. And
in regard it was yet a long time, more than
four hundred years, ere the promiſe fhould
be fulfilled, therefore God condefcends to in-
form him of the fate of his pofterity during
that long interval: all which was fo punc-
tually fulfilled, that we find the hiſtorian
obferving, that on that very day which God
had fet, the armies of Ifrael, the feed of
Abraham, who had been ſo long ſtrangers,
and
ABRAHA M.
303
and oppreffed in Egypt, marched out of it
to enter upon the promiſed poffeffion.
But all this while Sarah his wife was
barren; and fhe, in her impatience and
defpair of having any child, gave Hagar
her handmaid for a concubine to him. By
her he had Ifhmael: and there his faith
feems to have reſted, until God
gave him
farther aſſurances, that it was not in the fon
of Hagar, but in a fon whom Sarah his wife
ſhould bear to him, that the promiſes ſhould
be fulfilled. This, as matters ftood, was fo
improbable an event, Sarah, always bar-
ren, being now advanced far beyond the
age of child-bearing, that nothing but the
direct interpofal of the divine power could
render the thing even poffible. But this was
enough to Abraham: he believed "that he
was faithful who had promiſed, and that
"what he had promifed he was fully able to
66
66
perform." Nor was he diſappointed in his
hope: neither he, nor any who ever truſt-
ed God, were made aſhamed. Sarah brought
forth a fon, to whom all the promiſes made
to Abraham and his pofterity were confi-
ned; and particularly that grand one,
"that in his feed all the families of the
"earth fhould be bleffed."
Had
304
Eff. 13.
ABRAHAM.
Had Ifaac been born when Sarah was in
her full ftrength and vigour, the promiſe
would have been as really fulfilled; but
as that might have paffed for a common
thing, the hand of God would not have
been fo plainly feen, as it was when no-
thing but immediate divine interpofal could
have brought about the promiſed event.
In like manner, Abraham's feed, Jacob and
his fons in particular, might have conti-
nued in Canaan, and grown up into a great
nation there, even as Efau's pofterity did
in Mount Seir, and Lot's in the countries
which they poffeffed. In that cafe likewife
the promiſe of giving them the land of
Canaan would have been fulfilled. But it
would not then have appeared fo plainly
that God had given it to them, as it did,
when, after a long and hard bondage in
Egypt, he brought them out by imme-
diate and direct interpofals of divine power,
and put them in poffeffion of the promi-
fed land, at a time too when the inhabi-
tants were grown up into a more nume-
rous and incomparably greater and migh-
tier nation than they. Thus, all who
would give attention, had fenfible pled-
ges of his faithfulneſs and almighty power
for making good the great promiſe of that
feed
ABRAHAM.
305
feed in whom all the families of the earth
were to be bleſſed; and thereby fupporting
their faith and hope in God as their God,
and thoſe eternal bleſſings fecured to them
in that feed.
14. Imputation of Sin and Righteouſneſs.
G
how"
66
Reat things we find faid of Abraham's
faith, by the Apostle Paul' eſpecially;
being ſtrong in faith, he ftaggered
not at the promiſe of God through un-
belief," when all rational probabilities
were againſt him: "He confidered not his
own body already dead, neither the dead-
"nefs of Sarah's womb:" but even
66
66
66
66
a-
gainſt hope, he believed in hope, that he
"fhould be the father of many nations."
But there is one circumftance taken notice
of by the Apoſtle which has occafioned no
fmall controverfy in the Chriftian church:
"He believed God, and it was imputed to
"him for righteousness." Some have taken
fuch an averfion to the word, that they
cannot bear the mention of it; while o-
thers fhow fuch an extraordinary fondneſs
for the term, that no other form of words
VOL. I.
Qq
can
306
IMPUTATION of SIN Eff. 14.
can pleaſe them where this is left out.
There muſt certainly be fome miſtake at
bottom; efpecially as moft on both fides
appear perfectly agreed in the thing meant
by it; and the difputes, it would feem,
might be fairly compromifed, could the·
parties be brought to agree in the true and
preciſe meaning of the word.
As the word is fo frequently uſed, not
only by the Apoſtle, but likewiſe in the Old-
Teftament writings, to which he refers, there
can be no good reaſon given why it ſhould
not be uſed by Chriftian divines writing
or fpeaking on the fame fubject. For if
the authority of the facred writers is ad-
mitted, we muſt acknowledge, that the im-
puting fin, and the imputing righteouf-
nefs, are both proper expreffions. And as
there is not any difference about the firſt,
the agreed meaning of imputation, when
applied to fin, will, if I am not much mi-
ftaken, go a great way to fixing the fenfe
of the expreffion, when applied to righ-
teoufnefs.
Imputing of fin, then, will readily be
allowed to infer no more than inflicting
the puniſhment which fin deferves; on
whatever ground that judgement may be
fuppofed to ftand, or whether the perfon
be
and RIGHTEOUSNESS.
307
be really guilty or not. Thus we find Shi-
mei at once confeffing his fin to David,
and praying him not to impute it to him.
And thus we find David defcribing the
bleffednefs of the man whofe fin is par-
doned, that God imputeth not his fin to
him; while Saul moft unjustly imputed
fin to Ahimelech and the prieſts at Nob,
who were guilty of no crime. They ap-
pear therefore to be two very different que-
ſtions, Whether or not the perſon be a fin-
ner, or guilty of the crime? and, Whether
or not his fin fhall be imputed to him? or,
which is the fame thing, Whether his fin
ſhall be pardoned, or not?
If the imputation of righteouſneſs be
confidered in this light, the queſtion will
not be, Whether the perfon to whom it is
imputed be really a finner? for that is out of
difpute; nor can the judge of all the earth
reckon or judge him to be a righteous per-
fon: but the queſtion is, Whether he ſhall
be treated as a finner, or have the reward
affigned him by the mere grace of the fo-
vereign? And fo far, I believe, all fides
will agree. But there is fomething of an
ambiguity in the word righteousness, which,
I believe, runs through all languages; as
it denotes either doing what is right, or
having
Q & 2
308
IMPUTATION Of SIN Eff. 14.
腻
​66
having (however the perfon comes by it)
a right to the privileges of one who does
fo. And thefe, it is evident, are very dif-
ferent; for a pardoned criminal has, in all
reſpects, as good a right to the privileges of
a free fubject, as another who never offended.
But the Apoftle John has warned us not
to deceive ourſelves; for he only "is righ-
teous who doth righteouſneſs," or what
is right. And in fact theſe two always go
together. But as righteouſneſs, or doing
what is right, refers to fome rule or ſtand-
ard, the adjuſting of this hath run the par-
ties into very warm difputes. All are a-
greed, that the divine law is the undoubt-
ed rule of righteouſneſs; but of that law
as many different forms have been invent-
ed, as men had different views and pur-
pofcs to ferve.
As the law of God is, and certainly
muft be, abfolutely perfect, it cannot pof-
fibly be anſwered but by abfolute perfec-
tion. Thoſe who make this the rule of
righteoufnefs are greatly embarraffed. For
as "all have finned, and come fhort of the
66
glory of God," excepting only the Son of
God, who was fent to be the faviour of thè
world; him therefore they have been forced
to
and RIGHTEOUSNESS.
309
to transform from the furety of God's co-
venant, into a furety for elect ſinners, to
give for them, and in their ſtead, that per-
fect obedience which the law requires.
And this they fay is that righteouſneſs by
the imputation of which finners are juſti-
fied, and have the reward of eternal life
affigned them.
But the man who forms his fentiments on
the record which God has been graciouſly
pleaſed to leave in our hands, will find
himſelf greatly ſtraitened to reconcile this
plan to what we are there taught. I men-
tion only two points, though many more
might be infifted on. The first of them
is, that the law requires not only perfect,
but perfonal obedience; and cannot admit
of the obedience of a furety, however per-
fect, without altering, or, which is the fame
thing, diſpenſing with the rigour of the law
framed by the perfect wiſdom of the un-
changeable God. The other is, that it makes
the finner to be juſtified by the law in a ſtrict
and proper ſenſe, and leaves nothing to
the gift of grace, fo much extolled in the
gofpel, but admitting and providing a
furety; which it will be found very hard,
if not impoffible, to reconcile with the
doctrine
310
IMPUTATION of SIN Eff. 14.
doctrine and reaſoning of our Lord and
his apoſtles on this important fubject.
A very obvious diftinction of the divine
law, founded in the very different circum-
ſtances of perfect innocent creatures, and of
finners, fuch as all Adam's children certain-
ly are, might, if duly adverted to, fet the
whole in a confiftent light. What is right
for a finner to do, muſt be very different
from what an innocent creature either
fhould or could do. The law of perfec-
tion was made for our firſt parents in their
perfect ftate. They had no promife but
what was implied in the threatening, or pe-
nal ſanction; they were in poffeffion of all
the life they had to expect, and that they
held by the terms of law, "The man that
"doth them fhall live in them." But when
the man finned, and fentence was given a-
gainſt him in terms of law, binding him
under death; all the purpoſe the lawgiver
defigned by it, appears by the event to
have been anſwered; namely, to put man-
kind into fuch a ſtate, that they could
have no hope but in the free fovereign
mercy and grace of the creator and fove-
reign proprietor of the univerfe. And
from that day in which fin entered into the
*
world,
and RIGHTEOUSNESS.
311
world, there never was any law given
which could give life; nay, it became no
lefs than direct rebellion, and rejecting
the authority of the fovereign judge, fo
much as to attempt to live in that way.
What then is right for the finner to do?
Surely, in the firſt place, it muſt be right
to acquiefce in the fentence. And that can-
not be done any other way, than by gi-
ving up the forfeited life, to be deſtroyed,
whenever God thinks fit to execute the fen-
tence, and abfolutely renouncing all hope
of recovering it by any thing he himſelf
can do; the fame which our Lord expreffes
by "denying ourſelves, and taking up our
66 crofs." And funk we muſt have been into
abſolute irrecoverable deſpair, had there not
been publiſhed, along with the ſentence of
death, an intimation of a new grant of an
incomparably better life, and of another and
better way of living, in the promiſe of the
feed of the woman, and the eſtabliſhment
of what may be moſt properly called the
conflitution of grace; which is the rule and
meaſure, at once of the finner's duty, and
of the divine proceeding with him. The
original duties of the creature, fummed
up, by perfect wifdom, in the love of
God
312
Eff. 14.
IMPUTATION of SIN
God and of one another, can never admit
of any alteration. The law of creation binds
them on every creature. But how to re-
concile the heart of a finner to God and
to man, is a taſk which could never have
been accompliſhed, had not God mani-
feſted and recommended his love, as he
has done, by the grant he has made, not
only of pardon, but of eternal life, and
the fecurity and pledge he has given for
the performance in his bleffed Son, whom
he fent to be the faviour of the world,
with all the fullnefs of life in his hand.
In this ftate of things, it is certainly
right for the ſelf-condemned finner to be-
lieve the teftimony God hath given concern-
ing his Son; and that cannot be believed,
without believing, at the fame time, that he
has given him, and eternal life in him, to e-
very finner who will accept him, and receive
the gift of life from him, to be held under
him, and, as we may fay, in his right; that
is, by the free gift, founded on his perfect
obedience unto death and as this cannot
be done, without knowing and believing
the love of God, fo fully manifefted and
demonſtrated in him, the native confequence
of
and RIGHTEOUSNESS.
313
of this is, juſt what the Apoſtle fays, that
we love him becauſe he first loved us.
And thus the law and commandments
of God ftand ever fince Adam was driven
out of paradife. In the first place, that
we believe the record and teftimony God
has given concerning his Son, the fame
with believing in Jefus Chrift; and on
this foundation, love God and our neigh-
bour, under the influence of the fpirit
and life of Chrift, which he, we are well
affured, certainly gives to all who receive
and acknowledge him as God has attefted
his character. And as this is that doc-
trine of grace on which the life and hap-
pineſs of mankind depends, it is aſtoniſh-
ing how it could enter into any one's head,
that it either had, or could have, any
bad or prejudicial influence on holincfs of
life; when it is the only way in which the
heart of a finner can be reconciled to God,
and the only foundation on which the love
of God can ſtand: and furely it cannot be
refuſed, that perfect love is perfect holi-
nefs, and that there can be no holiness at
all without fome degree of it.
As the whole of this divine conftitu-
tion, or if any one is pleafed to call it the
VOL. I.
Rr
divine
314
IMPUTATION of SIN E. 14.
A
divine law, is founded in Jefus Chrift,
and his finiſhing the work which the Fa-
ther gave him to do on earth; and as it
is only his right, which, by his death,
and what is very properly called his teſta-
ment, is made over to all who receive
him, it is eafy to fee what the righteouf-
neſs of Chriſt is, and how it is fo imputed
to us, that it becomes a juft and righteous
thing with God to pardon and forgive
fin but, at the fame time it is obvious,
that the whole is managed and carried on,
not in a courfe of law, or legal juſtice, but
by a free, fovereign exertion of mercy and
grace, raifing up the finner, whom the ori-
ginal law had brought to death, unto a
new and everlafting life in Chrift Jefus.
But as this plan of the conftitution of
grace leaves man nothing to do in his
own falvation, but only to receive every
thing from the hand of God by his free
gift of grace, many methods have been
taken to mould it either into the form of
a new remedial law, or at leaſt a covenant
ftanding upon terms and conditions, fuch
as faith and repentance; to which fome add
fincere, inftead of perfect, obedience, and
perfeverance to the death. I will only fay,
happy
and RIGHTEOUSNESS.
315
happy it is for mankind that theſe wife
men were not admitted to ftand in God's
council when he concerted the plan on
which finners fhould be faved. When we
are fo well affured from the God of truth,
and the experience of all thoſe who ever
tried it in earneft, that of ourselves we can
do nothing, what ufe could have been made
of all the promiſes, ſtanding thus on condi-
tions which could never have been per-
formed? But there is one thing that muſt
not be paffed over, which the Apoſtle takes
notice of in Abraham's faith, viz. that he
believed God, and it was imputed, or rec-
koned, to him for righteousness. Whence
it has been alledged, that faith holds the
fame place in the new law, that perfect o-
bedience did in the original one; and there-
fore that faith is imputed for righteouf-
nefs, or fuftained as fuch, in virtue of the
new conſtitution or law of grace, which
the Apoſtle calls the law of faith.
Hardly can any thing be imagined
more contrary to the Apoitle's intention in
adducing this piece of Abraham's hiftory.
His profeffed defign was, to fhow, that A-
braham, with all the good things which
were about him, had nothing to boaſt of or
Rr 2
glory
316
IMPUTATION of SIN
glory in before God; for all the righteouf-
nefs he had was only imputed or reckon-
ed to him; and, upon the whole, amount-
ed only to this, that he believed God, and
the free gratuitous promife made to him.
It was this that gave him a right to the
promifed bleffing; and all that his belie-
ving could do, was no more than a diſpo-
fition to receive it as God gave it. That
was indeed the only right thing he could
do in his fituation; but all the worth and
merit of it amounted to no more than
this, that he did not treat the God of
truth as a liar, and one not fit to be truft-
ed, or as if the promiſed gift was not worth
having. The fame is the cafe with us, who
have the gift of Chriſt, and eternal life in
him, held forth in the goſpel, with the ful-
left affurances, that all are welcome to
take the benefit of it; and that cannot be
done but by believing the word and pro-
mife of God, and that is all that faith can
do. And yet, by this fame believing, we
find ourſelves poffeffed of as good a right
to eternal life, as if we had earned it by
the moſt laborious and coftly fervice. A
free gift gives as good a right as the deareſt
purchaſe.
The
and RIGHTEOUSNESS.
317
The Apoſtle leads us into a further view
of this fame imputation of righteouſneſs,
by the compariſon he ftates between the
two heads of mankind; Jefus Chriſt, and
Adam, who, he fays, was the figure or
defigned reprefentation of him. I do not
remember that our firft father's fin is ever
faid to be imputed to his poſterity; but
the thing is afferted in the ſtrongeſt terms,
That "by one man's tranfgreffion, many
66
were made finners," and fubjected to
that very puniſhment which was inflicted
on the tranfgreffor. Preciſely, in the fame
manner, we are told, that "by the obedience
"of one, many were made righteous;"
and they were made righteous by the gift
of grace coming to them, and upon them,
founded in the perfect obedience of Chrift,
and his fulfilling the terms of life, by which
the gift comes to them perfectly free, and
nothing is left to them but to receive what
God freely gives in his ever-bleffed Son.
It has been warmly difputed, whether
the righteouſneſs of Chrift is imputed to
the believer in itſelf, or only in its effects.
On an impartial view of the righteouſneſs
the Apoſtle ſpeaks of, one fhould think,
that if there ever was fuch a thing as lo-
gomachy
f
318
IMPUTATION of SIN Eff. 14.
gomachy among difputants, this muſt be
one. Surely no man ever imagined, that
God, who fees all things as they are,
fhould ever reckon, that the righteouſneſs
of Chriſt is really the righteouſneſs of the
believer; for that is the fame as to reckon
that the believer himſelf performed it. It
can be no otherwife his, than as the Apo-
ftle fays it is, viz. by free gift; and the
only way it can be conferred, is by
giving the finner the full benefit of it;
putting this righteouſneſs to his account,
and thus transferring Chrift's right to
him; that whatever he receives is the re-
ward, not of what he, but of what Chrift
has done. The promifes made to Abra-
ham, and the bleffings conveyed in them,
it is evident, were not the rewards or ef-
fects of Abraham's faith, or any righteouf-
nefs of his; but the grounds and founda-
tion on which his faith ftood. So far as
God had ſpoken and promiſed, fo far had
he a good right to believe. But it was not
his believing that gave him a right to ex-
pect the bleflings. And well would it be
for men, if they contented themſelves to
take things in that plain fimple light in
which perfect wifdom has left them to us,
without pretending to model them into the
form
and RIGHTEOUSNESS.
319
form of a human ſcience, or attempting an
anſwer to every how and why that igno-
rance or malice may caſt in our way.
15. Abraham's Covenant.
Braham's faith we find very highly
commended by the Apoſtle; and he
fays no more of it than he gives good rea-
fons for. Never was faith more feverely
tried; no, not even theirs who fuffered the
moſt cruel deaths, in the hope, or rather
the certain proſpect of eternal life. To ſay
nothing of his leaving his native country,
and all his connections there, (and in theſe
lie all the comforts of life); though that
was a great matter, the trying command
he received was, to go and facrifice his on-
ly fon, and that fon too in whom all the
promiſes, and what is called particularly
God's covenant given him, were to be ful-
filled. Nothing could fupport faith in
thefe circumſtances, but the firm perfuafion
that God was able to raife him from the
dead, and that he certainly would do it.
But however ſtrong his faith was in the
great effential points, as we may call the
promiſes
320 ABRAHAM'S COVENANT. Eff. 15.
promiſes of that covenant; yet it failed
him ſhamefully in leffer inftances: for
though God had affured him, that he was
his fhield or protector, yet on a mere fur-
mife that his life might be in danger, he
twice ventured to ward it off by a lie, or
at leaſt by a filly equivocation: A uſeful
piece of inſtruction to all that hear of it, that
the ſtrongeſt and moſt approved faith in
God will not be fufficient to fupport the
poffeffors of it, even in the moſt ordinary
cafes, when God is pleaſed to leave them
to themſelves; and a ſtrong experimental
confirmation of what our Lord fays to his
difciples, "Without me ye can do nothing."
Though all the promiſes made to Abraham
ftood on the fame bottom, the faithful-
nefs of the promifer; yet it is
very evident
from the tenor of the hiſtory, that what
God calls his covenant, and which he pro-
miſes to eſtabliſh with him, is ſomething
different from, and of a higher nature than
the promiſe of a numerous feed, and the
inheritance of the land of Canaan. The
grant is expreffed in the fame terms with
that made to Noah; and both moſt evi-
dently had a reference to the original pro-
mife,
ABRAHAM'S COVENANT.
321
mife, or declaration, if any one chufes to
call it fo, that the woman fhould have a
feed which ſhould bruife the ferpent's
head, and fhed the blood of him who had
fhed man's blood, who brought in and
propagated death among them, as he had
promiſed to Noah, and now renewed to
Abraham, under the notion of a feed in
whom all the families of the earth fhould
be bleſſed.
The terms in which this promiſe or
grant was expreffed, have evidently fome-
thing very fingular in them; the cutting
off or flaying BeRiTH; for fo the word
joined with BeRiTH and tranſlated, making
a covenant, evidently fignifies, and is ac-
knowledged fo to do by all who know any
thing of the language, and appears to be
the original of the feemingly odd phrafe
ufed in later languages for making mutual
covenants and agreements; and there was
fome good foundation for it, as in the hi-
ftory written in that language we find the
fame terms made ufe of in fuch covenants
or agreements. But the reafon commonly
given for that ſtrange phrafeology will
hardly be thought a good one by impar-
tial judges: for though it may be true
VOL. I.
S f
that
322
ABRAHAM'S COVENANT. Eff. 15.
I
that fome beaft or other was flain and facri-
ficed on theſe occafions, yet it was the fa-
crifice that was flain, and cut afunder, and
not the covenant or agreement: and e-
ven the flaying of the beaft was uſed for
no other purpoſe but to make a fanction,
and furniſh matter for the curfe the par-
ties took upon themſelves if they ſhould
break the agreement. But there is good
reaſon to think, that the original of the
phrafe was fomething more clofely con-
nected, at leaſt with the matter of what
is called the covenant.
Where things are called by the fame
name in ordinary language, though very
different in themſelves, yet they are very
readily confounded. And it is not eaſy to ſay
what confufion, and very dangerous mif-
takes, men have been led into, by modelling
God's covenant upon the tranſactions a-
mong men' which go by that name. No-
thing can be more evident,than that what we
call God's covenant with Noah, and Abra-
ham, and we may add David too, was no
more than a fovereignly free, and what we
call an abfolute promife, of that feed on
which the faith and hope of all the pa-
triarchs and their fucceflors were termina-
ted,
ABRAHAM'S COVENANT.
323
ted, for all the bleffings ever they had to
expect from the hand of God, and which
we find continued to be fo in after ages,
down to the very time of the Saviour's
coming into the world. This faith was
kept awake by the fucceeding prophets;
and the Meffiah, or fon of David, was a
common article of faith, not only among
the vulgar of the Jewiſh nation, but even
among the Samaritans, who were treated
as aliens by that haughty nation. So free
and abfolute was this great promiſe, and
all that depended upon it, that there was
nothing left to Abraham himſelf to do, but
to believe that God would do as he had faid,
and would not deceive thofe that truſted to
his faithfulneſs. And he is the pattern on
which all his genuine children are formed.
From this view of what we call God's
covenant, if I am not very much miſtaken,
we may get at the true meaning of the
word BeRiTH, and the propriety of that
ftrange-like expreffion of cutting off Be-
RITH, for making a covenant. There is a
well-known root in that language, 171, Ba-
RaR, which fignifies to purify, and has a
very extenfive application to perfons and
things, as wafhing, cleanfing, making
Sf 2
pure,
+
324
ABRAHAM'S COVENANT. Eff. 15.
pure, and confequently perfect in its kind.
The fame individual letters make a word
which in two different places our tranſla-
tors render by Soap; and all, both Jews
and Chriſtians, are forced to render, by
fomething made uſe of for cleanſing; only
the later Jews pointed them differently, and
read this BoRITH. But however that is,
BeRiTH, by all the rules of that language,
comes as naturally from BaRar as Bo-
RiTH, and as naturally fignifies fome-
thing that cleanſes or purifies; ſo that it is
hard to fay what has moved our lexico-
graphers to carry it away from this ob-
vious root, they knew not whither, and
forced them to coin one which is no
where to be found in the language; and
confequently can have no meaning at all,
but the arbitrary one taken from the ufe
of CaRat, BeRITH, for making a cove-
nant.
Chriftians, who have the New Tefta-
ment in their hands, know, that fin is ve-
ry juſtly reprefented as the grand defile-
ment and pollution; nay, that it was fo
from the time that facrifices for fin came
to be in ufe; that there was a cleanſing
virtue attributed to their fhed blood, and
the
ABRAHAM'S COVENANT.
325
the ſeveral luftrations, fprinklings, and
wafhings, which attended that part of
worſhip; and that all theſe were but ſha-
dowy repreſentations of the blood of Jeſus,
which cleanses from all fin. And if what
we juſt now obferved is true, viz. that
what we call God's covenant with Abra-
ham, was really the promiſe of that ſeed,
in whom all nations fhould be bleffed, and
that this bleſſedneſs lay in faving them
from their fins, and waſhing them in his
own blood, very properly it might be faid,
that he gave the BeRiTH, the great and
only mean of cleanfing, purifying, and
perfecting, the finner.
But as it was a long time after that be-
fore God's BeRITH, the great mean of
purification, fhould be actually exhibited
in the world; that it might not be forgot-
ten, and that the only way in which re-
miffion and cleanfing from fin was to be
had, might be kept in view, God was
graciouſly pleaſed to inſtitute a fenfible i-
mage or figure of it, in fhedding the
blood of fuch beaſts as he had appointed
for facrifices. Theſe were the typical or
figurative reprefentations of the true Be-
RITH, and therefore took the name that
belonged
326
ABRAHAM'S COVENANT. Eff. 15.
belonged to him: and they were really
the means of purification under the Mo-
faic law; for the Apoſtle tells us, that the
blood of bulls, and of goats, and the afh-
es of an heifer, fprinkling the unclean,
did fanctify to the purification of the
fleſh; that is, cleanſed the people from
that ceremonial or typical pollution, made
fuch by the law they were under, and
which difqualified them for accefs to
God, and communion with his people in
the temple-worſhip.
From this ſketch we may eaſily ſee how
the phraſe of cutting off a BeRiTH came
to be uſed for making a covenant between
man and man. So long as the original
import of the phraſe was underſtood, of-
fering, and ſhedding, and ſprinkling, the
blood, according to the divine appoint-
ment, was really entering into God's Be-
RITH. So God himſelf defcribes his faints,
thoſe who have entered into his covenant
by facrifice. And as that was the moſt ſo-
lemn act that could be performed by man,
it was the moſt proper mean that could be
deviſed of their mutual affurance of inte-
grity and good faith. But after the original
intention was loft, the phrafeology was ftill
continued ;
ABRAHAM'S COVENANT.
327
continued; and the rite degenerated into a
mere form, affording only matter for a
mutual imprecation or curfe, in cafe of
failure.
In this view, it is eafy to fee how pro-
perly God could fay, that he gave his Be-
RiTH between himſelf and Abraham, viz. the
great mediator between God and man; and
that he gave his Son, not only for a leader,
but a BeRiTH to the people; who are ac-
cordingly called to lay hold of him as God's
BeRiTH, and commended and encouraged
when they do fo; with many other phra-
fes and expreffions, which need a great
deal of pains to adjuft (if they can be ad-
jufted at all) to a covenant in the vulgar
ſenſe. Nor do I know any fingle objection
that can be made, unleſs it be, that the fame
phrafe is uſed for common covenants be-
tween man and man; which has been al-
ready accounted for. Or will any man
venture to fay, that God's covenant and
man's are ſo nearly of the fame kind, that
we may judge of the former by what we
know of the latter?
It may perhaps be faid, that God's co-
venant with the Ifraelitifh nation, when
he brought them out of Egypt, is expreff-
ed in the fame terms with Abraham's,
which
な
​328
ABRAHAM'S COVENANT. Eff. 15.
2
which yet was a true and proper cove-
nant. It is to be obferved, that God's
BeRiTH was given to them in the very
terms it was given to their father Abra-
ham, and as it ftood from the time that
man was driven out of paradiſe; and ac-
cordingly he declares himſelf to be their
God. This declaration has been dwindled
away to mean no more than that he was
their King; and on this has been built a
ſyſtem of what they call moral government,
founded on the plan of the kingdoms of
this world, where fubjects have rights as
well as the fovereign, and are in no fenfe
his property. But when the great fove-
reign and abfolute proprietor fays to any,
that he is, or will be, their God, it can mean
no lefs, than that he will give to them,
and do for them, all that he has warrant-
ed them to expect from him. I fay, what
he has warranted them to expect; for he
can never be a debtor to any of his crea-
tures, unleſs he hath firſt made himſelf ſo
by a promiſe. And he never made a pro-
mife of being a God to any of mankind,
but what was founded in Jefus Chrift,
whom he has given for a BeRiTH to
mankind,
*
ABRAHAM'S COVENANT.
329
mankind, and in whom all the promiſes
of pardon and eternal life are lodged.
It is further to be obferved, that their
entrance into, and poffeffion of Canaan,
the figure of the heavenly inheritance, was
not owing to any covenant or mutual a-
greement between God and them, but to
the fovereignly free promife and oath made
to their father Abraham. He had purpoſes
of moment in fettling them there, and ac-
cordingly gave them a law, which was the
tenor whereby they held the poffeffion, and
was evidently founded in the performance
of that promife. And this law appears
with great evidence to have been wholly
intended for preferving and keeping up the
memorial of his BeRiTH, when the apo-
ſtaſy became fo general as it did; or, as
the Apoſtle expreffes it," to be a fchool-
"maſter to lead to Chrift;" and by which
they were "fhut up to the faith which
"fhould afterward be revealed." And in-
deed all other avenues by which relief could
enter, were ſo effectually fhut up by this
law, that there was no way left open but
entering upon that method of purification
which God had appointed, by believing
VOL. I.
Tt
on
330
Eff. 15.
ABRAHAM'S COVENANT.
+
on him whom God fealed, and fent into
the world.
The Apoſtle Paul fets this whole affair
in the cleareft light, as in the whole te-
nor of his writings, fo particularly and
of fet purpoſe in his epiftle to the Ga-
latians; which they would do well to con-
fider, who have not fcrupled to ſay, that
the unchangeable God puts off the cha-
racter of creator, and confines himſelf to
that of a moral governor. There were in
thofe days a fet of men, who were not able
to refift the evident proofs Jefus had gi-
ven of his being indeed the Chrift, the
promiſed Meffiah; but at the fame time,
fo bigotted to the law of Mofes, of which
they had loft the true intention and mean-
ing, that they could not conceive how
men could be faved but by the obſervance
of that law; which yet was altogether in-
conſiſtent both with the fpirit of the law
itſelf, which could not give life, and with
God's way of faving finners in the way of
fovereign grace.
The Apofile, for their conviction, car-
ries them back to the cafe of Abraham,
whom they valued themſelves upon as
their father. In his epiftle to the Ro-
mans,
ABRAHAM'S COVENANT.
331
mans, he ſtates his cafe in relation to God,
and the promifes he had from him, and
fhews that they could not be founded on any
works of his, becauſe he had none until the
promifes were given. Nay, when by his
faith in God, and his wonderful grace, his
heart was formed into the natural returns
of gratitude and love, yet none of theſe
things were ever brought into the account.
And even circumcifion itſelf was no more
but a fign appointed of God, as a ſeal of
that righteouſneſs by faith which he had
while he was yet uncircumcifed.
In his epiftle to the Galatians, he pitches
on the fame faith of Abraham as the only
thing on his part which intereſted him in
the promiſed bleffings, and appeals to that
original, or rather early, publication of the
gofpel to him; which he makes to confift
in this, that all the nations of the earth
fhould be bleffed in his feed; and that
none might imagine. that any nation or
people defcending from him was to be
fuch a general bleffing, he obſerves, that
in the very terms of the promiſe the feed is
limited to one perfon, who is Chrift. And
all that lay hold on this gracious cove-
nant, by believing in Chrift, are bleffed
with
Tt 2
332
EM. 15.
ABRAHAM'S COVENANT.
with believing Abraham, or bleffed as he
was, in the way of believing the free pro-
mife or gift of Chriſt.
86
This we find is the very gofpel this A-
poftle preached, when he was fent by a
fpecial commiffion to the Heathen world:
"Be it known to you," ſaid he, “ men and
brethren, that through this man is pro-
"claimed unto you repentance, and re-
"miffion of fins; and in him, all that be-
"lieve, are juftified from all things, from
"which you could not be juſtified by the
"law of Mofes." And what do they be-
lieve who thus believe in Chrift? Surely
nothing but this, that God had fet him
forth to be a propitiation; and “ that
66 Chriſt gave himſelf for them, to purify
to himſelf a peculiar people, zealous of
good works; to wash them from their
"C
66
(6
4
"fins in his own blood, and preſent them
pure and perfect unto his heavenly Fa-
"ther."
But it might be alledged, and very pro-
bably it was, that there was an innovation
made by the addition of the law, the in-
ſtrument of moral government. This, the
Apoſtle obferves, could not be the cafe;
for the deed of conveyance, confirmed be-
fore
ABRAHAM'S COVENANT.
333
fore by God in Chriſt, could not be fet a-
fide by the law, which was four hundred
and thirty years after, and was added for
anfwering quite different ends and purpo-
fes. This he illuſtrates and proves by the
allowed principles of law and juſtice among
men; for where a man's teftament is con-
firmed by the death of the teſtator, no
man pretends to fet it aſide.
By the word the Apoſtle ufes here, and
which our tranflators render covenant, and
the margin teftament, we are led to an ob-
fervation which merits peculiar regard. In
the Old-Teftament language, there was
only one phraſe, viz. Carat BeRITH, which
was promifcuouſly uſed, either for God's
deed, by which he, as it became his fove-
reign grace, made a free gift of his Son, and
eternal life in him; or for mens covenants
and mutual agreements one with another.
But, happily for us, the New Teſtament lan-
guage clears up this feeming ambiguity.
That language has two words, with two di-
ftinct and appropriated meanings,and which
are never confounded in that language. uvn
is the deed of two or more agreeing on
certain terms and conditions, as the very
found of the word naturally intimates to
all who underſtand it. Διαθήκη is the deed
Συνθήκη
of
{
{
334
ABRAHAM'S COVENANT. Eff. 15.
of one fingle perfon making a conveyance
of his property to another in ſuch a man-
ner as he ſees proper. The moſt common
way is by teftament; but from the effect
of that deed to transfer property, it came
naturally to be uſed for any grant, or deed
of conveyance, which has the ſame effect.
The laft of thefe terms we find con-
ftantly uſed by the New-Teftament wri-
ters when they ſpeak of what we call God's
covenant. And by the Apoftic's way of
fpeaking, he ſeems to confider God's dia-
theke as a teſtament, conveying the inheri-
tance to fuch as he defigns for his heirs.
This is by no means weakly fupported, by
the uniform way of ſpeaking of the con-
veyance of eternal life, under the notion
of an inheritance, riches, a kingdom,
glory, honour, and immortality, conveyed
to believers, as children, and heirs, the
children and heirs of God, and joint heirs
with Chrift.
But here there occurs what has been
thought an infuperable difficulty, viz. that
God cannot die, and therefore cannot con-
vey by teftament; which, as the Apoſtle tells
us in another place, can be of no force ſo
long as the teftator lives. Our Apoftle gives
the
ABRAHAM'S COVENANT.
335
any
the key to this in a fhort hint. God's An
was confirmed by God in Chrift. Nor is it
of moment that Chrift died not for ma-
ny years after; for he was the flain lamb,
the true BeRiTH, the facrifice for putting
away fin, in which God refted, from the
foundation of the world.
But our Lord himſelf has perfectly clear-
ed the whole of this aftoniſhing tranfac-
tion, in the following words to his difciples,
which very probably the Apoſtle had in
Luke xxii. 29. 30. "I appoint
his
66
66
eye,
unto you a kingdom, as my Father hath
appointed unto me; that ye may eat and
"drink at my table in my
my kingdom." Here
are two difpofitions or appointments of the
famė fubject: The Father, the original
proprietor, makes a grant of the kingdom
to his beloved Son, the mediator between
God and man; through whom only the
conveyance could be made to finners: and
along with it the Son receives a command-
ment, to do and to fuffer every thing that
was neceffary for putting away fin, and
rendering it confiftent with all the divine
perfections to raiſe up the dead finner to
the poffeffion of eternal life. He, on his
part, finiſhed the work which the Father
gave
336
ABRAHAM'S COVENANT. Eff, 15.
1
gave him, to do, cleared the grant, acquired
a perfect right to the promiſed inheritance,
and had all the fullneſs of it lodged in his
hand. Thus the deed of conveyance was
confirmed by his death, and thereby made
abfolutely irreverſible, and nothing is left to
us but to enter upon poffeffion; which it is
evident can be no otherwife done but by be-
lieving the truth of the grant, and reſting
with becoming confidence on the faithful-
nefs of the teftator, who ever lives a power-
ful interceffor, and a captain of falvation
to bring the fons of God into glory. And
thus the whole terminates, as the Apoſtle
John has ſtated it, "in that teftimony which
"God has given concerning his Son; which
teftimony, whofoever believes, has the
"witnefs in himfelf; but he that believes it
not, makes God a liar."
"And this is
"the teftimony or record, that God hath
"made us a gift of eternal life, and this
"life is in his Son. He that hath the Son,"
and entereth, by faith, or believing the te-
ftimony, into God's BeRiTH, "hath life;
and he that hath not the Son, hath not
"life."
66
}
N
16. Sacrifices
SACRIFICES, &c.
337
16. Sacrifices and Priesthood.
A Mong all the odd whims fuperftition
ever brought into the worſhip of the
Deity, there is hardly any thing which at
firſt ſight appears ſo abfurd as that of ſa-
crifice; for how can it be fuppofed, that
the great creator and fovereign of the u-
niverſe ſhould be pleafed with fhedding
the blood of animals, and the fmell of
burnt fat; and fo pleafed, that, in confi-
deration thereof, he fhould pardon the of-
fences of man, turn away from his wrath,
and forbear the vengeance justly due to
them. Nor is the folly of fuch a perſua-
fion any
where more ſtrongly expoſed than
in the facred writings, particularly in the
51ft pfalm.
And yet it is certain, the practice univer-
fally prevailed, not only among the rude and
ignorant, but more eſpecially among the
moſt knowing and civilized nations; where
it made the principal part, and in a manner
the whole of their religious worship. Phi-
lofophers and wife men faw, and expoſed,
the abfurdity of it. But it kept its ground
notwithſtanding, in ſpite of all that reaſon
VOL, I.
could
U u
338
Eff. 16.
SACRIFICES and
could fay againſt it. And no wonder it
fhould; for it was powerfully fupported
by an univerfal tradition, that it was of
divine inftitution. This was carried yet.
farther, when the world loft fight of the
creator, and took up with the viſible
heavens, his agents, and ſplit the feveral
powers thereof into fo many deities. E-
very deity they thought had ordered cer-
tain beaſts to be offered, and certain rites.
to be obſerved in their worship; and that
fo ftrictly, that if any mistake was com-
mitted, the effect of the whole would be
loft.
1
And furely it affords a ftrong prefump-
tion in favour of the tradition, that a prac-
tice, which could never have entered into
any man's head, fhould become thus univer-
fal; and that from the earlieſt ages. For in all
the hiftories of the world, there is no hint of
its firſt inſtitution. Where-ever the hifto-
ry commenced, even in the darkeſt and
moft fabulous ages, facrifices were always
found among them. And no wonder; for
indeed the practice appears to be very near-
ly as ancient as the word itſelf. Cain and
Abel offered their facrifices very early; and
though we have no record of the first in-
ftitution,
PRIESTHOOD.
339
ſtitution, yet the divine acceptance of A-
bel's facrifice is a fufficient document of it.
Nor have we any reaſon to imagine, that
Adam had never offered even before that
time, though there is no record of it, nor
indeed of any others prefenting fuch offer-
ings until the deluge. But the diftinction
then fubfifting between clean and unclean
beaſts, is more than a prefumption that
the practice continued. Noah offered im-
mediately after the deluge, and God was
pleaſed with it. Abraham built altars where-
ever he came, and offered facrifice; Ifaac and
Jacob did the fame. And when their de-
fcendents were brought out of Egypt,
they had a law given them, wherein this
was made the moſt folemn part of their
worſhip, and very particular directions gi-
ven about it.
During the patriarchal times, it appears
that every man offered his own facrifice.
There is no mention of any prieſt in thoſe
ages, excepting only Melchizedeck, and he
appears to have been an extraordinary per-
fon, raiſed up for anfwering the particu-
lar purpoſe of reprefenting the true king
of righteouſneſs and peace, the great prieſt
over the houfe of God. Neither can I
find any good foundation for what fome
learned
U u 2
340
Eff. 16.
SACRIFICES and
learned men are very pofitive in, that the
priesthood was confined to the firft-born
of the family, and that none might offer
but they. Surely Abraham and Jacob
were neither of them the firſt-born. The
claim afterwards made upon the firft-born
of the Ifraelites ftood upon another bottom;
and the affuming the tribe of Levi, and
confining the priesthood to them, was evi-
dently an act of fovereign authority.
Whence the other nations took the hint
of fetting apart a certain order of men
for this part of their worship, is not fo
eafy to fay. It could hardly come from
the Mofaic law, and the practice of the
Ifraelites; efpecially if the men called by
the title commonly given to priests were
really fuch; and not, as David's fons were,
minifters of ſtate, who are a fort of me-
diators between king and people. But
however that was, fuch an order of men
were in every civilized nation; each dei-
ty had his own prieſt or priefs; and an
office of great honour and credit it was.
No man among the Heathen might offer
his own facrifice, nor confult the oracles
even in his moft weighty and fecret af-
fairs, any more than one among the If-
raelites; among whom it was fo ex-
prefsly
PRIESTHOOD.
341
prefsly forbidden, that the prieſts found
themſelves obliged to refift one of the
greateſt of their kings when he attempted
only to offer incenfe on the altar: and
their zeal was juſtified in a very fenfible
manner by God himfelf; the king was
ftruck with leprofy.
We have a number of inftances on re-
cord, which at once prove the divine in-
ſtitution of this feemingly irrational piece
of worſhip, and God's acceptance of it, by
fire from heaven confuming the facrifices;
of which we need not give particular in-
ftances, eſpecially as they were extraordi-
nary caſes, and defigned to anſwer parti-
cular purpoſes. The fureft way of adjuſt-
ing our notions of it must be, a careful
confideration of that fyftem of facrifica-
ture, given with fuch folemnity by the
miniſtry of Mofes, by fpecial divine ap-
pointment, and proved to have been fo by
the moſt irreſiſtible evidence. The parti-
culars are numerous, as directed to anſwer
all the particular cafes of offences, defile-
ments, and pollutions, that were pardona-
ble by that law: for fome crimes, particular-
ly idolatry, murder, and finning prefump-
tuouſly, inferred unavoidable death. It
will
342
Eff. 16.
SACRIFICES and
will be fufficient for our purpoſe to gather
up
the conftituent principles, and what we
may call the eſſentials of that part of wor-
fhip.
To do this to any purpoſe, we muſt pre-
mife, and carry along with us, what, I dare
fay, will be readily agreed to, that the
moſt high God, the creator and proprie-
tor of heaven and earth, is ſo perfectly
bleſſed and happy in himſelf, and fo un-
changeably fo, that his happineſs can nei-
ther admit of augmentation nor diminu-
tion. From which it neceffarily follows,
that whatever laws or ordinances he impo-
fes upon mankind, neither are, nor can be
defigned for any advantage to himſelf, but
purely for the benefit of his creatures, and
promoting their perfection and happineſs;
which, it is eaſy to ſee, muſt go together,
and keep pace with one another. And it
would be very eaſy to fhew, by an induc-
tion of particulars, that every ordinance
and command of his is calculated to give
us fuch views of God, and what we have
to hope or fear from him, as may form
our hearts and fentiments in a fuitablenefs
to theſe views, to direct the conduct of
our lives on the principles of true wiſdom,
the
PRIESTHOOD.
343
the way that leads to final and perfect hap-
pineſs, and to reſtrain from fuch courſes
as may mar or hinder our progrefs.
That this was the defign of the whole
ſyſtem of facrificature, fo minutely defcri-
bed to us, appears very plainly from this
fingle confideration, that the whole con-
fifted of fuch offerings, as common ſenſe
would tell every man, could be of no man-
ner of uſe to God, nor give him any plea-
fure, farther than as they ferved to diſ-
play and forward his kind and beneficent
purpoſes to man.
This will farther appear, from the pre-
paration that was made for this fervice, in
the ſtructure of the tabernacle firſt, and
afterwards of the temple, the only place
where facrifices might be offered, except in
extraordinary cafes. Thefe, on the moſt cur-
ſory view, appear to have been deſigned for
the place of God's refidence and abode a-
mong that people; nor could there well be a
fuller intimation, and we may fay affurance,
of his gracious intention of dwelling among
men, than giving fuch formal directions
as he did to Mofes, for preparing a tent for
him to abide in, with the pofitive promi-
fes
344
Eff. 16.
SACRIFICES and
fes he made of dwelling and taking up his
abode there.
But this was too momentous a point to
be left to human fkill and contrivance;
nor did perfect wiſdom think it fufficient
to give Mofes, faithful as he was, verbal
directions, but fhewed him a pattern which
he was to copy, without the leaſt devia-
tion: For fee," faid he, " that thou make
66
66
all things according to the pattern ſhew-
❝ed thee in the mount." And there was
great reafon for it. It was the pattern of
heavenly things; and a fenfible repreſentation
of theſe, none but God himſelf knew how to
adjuſt. One cannot paſs this without taking
notice of this intereſting inftance of the di-
vine condefcenfion. He perfectly knew
our frame; what abfolute ftrangers we
were to the ſpiritual world; that it was im-
poffible for us to form, not to fay any i-
dea, but not fo much as any proper con-
ceptions, of the ftate of things there, nor
indeed any conceptions at all, until they
were imaged by fuch fenfible things as we
are, or may be, acquainted with; and
which, if the images are properly chofen,
do by a very natural analogy lead us to
what
PRIESTHOOD.
345
what we could never have otherwife come
to the knowledge of.
What theſe heavenly things were, of which
the tabernacle and its furniture were de-
figned to be fenfible repreſentations, will be
no queſtion to any one who confiders the
relation which fubfifts between the creator
and his creatures; particularly fuch crea-
tures as all the children of Adam are, la-
den with fin and guilt, and bound by the
righteous ſentence of the fovereign under
death, which can imply no lefs than put-
ting a final period to the life they poffefs,
and are ſo very fond of. Whatever ſpecula-
tions men who are at their eaſe, and loth
to be diſturbed by melancholy proſpects,
may footh themſelves with, it is evidently
impoffible for any man, and I may add
for any creature, to fay what will be
the end of fuch criminals, until God,
in whofe hand they are, fhall declare
how he defigns finally to difpofe of
them; whether he will leave them to pe-
rifh by that death they muſt certainly
once undergo, or whether, by an exertion.
of fovereign grace, he will raiſe them up
to the poffeffion of a new and endleſs.
life.
VOL. I.
X X
The
346
Eff. 16.
SACRIFICES and
· The merciful creator did not leave his
poor helpleſs creatures in fuch a diſmal fi-
tuation as that of a finner muft have been
in this uncertainty. No fooner had the
poor creature fallen, than he kindly took it
up, and cheriſhed it with the revelation of
his eternal counfels, and the unchangeable
purpoſes of his grace, founded in that high-
eſt inſtance of it, the fending his own Son
to be the faviour of the world, not mere-
ly to beſtow pardon, but eternal life upon
all that would receive it at his hand.
This conftitution of grace, which we call
his covenant, containing an authentic ſtate
of matters between God and man, as it
ftands confirmed in Chrift, is undoubted-
ly the heavenly things which God defign-
ed to exhibit in the tabernacle and temple
fervice. And to fee how this reprefenta-
tion is adjuſted by the prophets and apo-
ftles, is a ftudy which cannot be thought
below the greateſt, the wifeft, and moſt
learned of mankind,
We need only obſerve how, in the ſtruc-
ture of the tabernacle and temple, and
particularly the moſt holy place, where
none might enter but the high-prieſt alone,
and that but once a-year, is reprefented the
true
PRIESTHOOD.
3.47
true fanctuary and. tabernacle, that heaven-
ly place, where the great high-prieſt of
the Chriſtian profeffion minifters in the
immediate preſence of God. The furniture
of the temple, and eſpecially of the moſt
holy place, requires our utmoſt attention.
There were the fymbols of God's prefence,
and a figure of the heavenly fanctuary,
and the ſtate of things there, imaged by
perfect wiſdom; his throne particularly,
and his prefence there, to which all their
religious fervices were directed. And it is
not to be doubted, that he exhibited him-
felf there preciſely as he had manifeſted
his glory to Mofes, in proclaiming his name
before him, "The Lord God, merciful and
gracious," &c. It was fo; for the ark
with its furniture bore the name of the
propitiatory, or mercy-feat, the image of
what the Apoſtle calls the throne of grace.
There were the cherubims, the fame for the
figure with thoſe which were exhibited on
the firſt revelation of the fyftem of grace at
Eden. They who make theſe laſt angels, and
thoſe in the temple figures of them, give but
a cold and unintereſting view of him who
inhabited them. For what is it to man,
that God dwells among the holy angels?
66
X x 2
It
•
348
Eff. 16.
SACRIFICES and
It is furely more for their comfort, that the
face of a man is found in theſe figures,
and united on the fame fide with that of
the lion. Before theſe figures, and him that
inhabited or dwelt in them, the blood was
ſprinkled on the great day of atonement,
under a cloud of incenfe.
And now that I have mentioned the
ſprinkling of blood, it will be proper to
take in what the Apoſtle obferves, Heb. ix.
22. that almoſt all things in that conftitu-
tion were purged by blood. And indeed
all things with which the finner had any
concern; the tabernacle, the altars, with
all the veffels of the miniſtry, and even
the book of the law itſelf, were ſprinkled
with blood; only the mercy-feat was not,
but the blood was fprinkled before it; for
that being the exhibition of God's part,
was perfectly pure and holy. The Apoſtle
concludes with a general affertion, that
"without fhedding of blood there was no
"remiffion;" which plainly imports, that
fhedding of blood was the way which God
had appointed for putting away fin; the
only way indeed by which it could be
done: but, at the fame time, a way in
which it moſt certainly ſhould be done.
From
PRIESTHOOD.
349
From this general view, it feems to ap-
pear, that the great creator and fovereign
of the world is not fet forth in this ſyſtem
as the avenger of fin, however juſtly he
might have been fo, nor as fuch an enemy
to mankind, as that no good can be ex-
pected from him till his wrath is affuaged,
and he pacified, and rendered propitious,
by fhedding the blood, and burning the
fleſh of poor harmleſs animals; but, on
the contrary, that he is exhibited there
precifely in the fame light as in Jefus
Chriſt, in whom he hath declared himſelf
perfectly well pleafed. And the great
point is not now, nor indeed ever was, to
reconcile God to man; that is done effec-
tually: but to reconcile finners to God;
which cannot be done but by knowing.
and believing the love of God to a periſh-
ing world, manifefted and fealed by the
moſt unquestionable token that could be
given of it, in fending his only begotten
Son into the world, that whofover be-
lieves in him ſhould not periſh.
Though the Heathen nations were great-
ly miſtaken in imagining, that their fa-
crifices could atone for their fins, turn a-
way the wrath of their angry gods, or
procure
350
Eff. 16.
SACRIFICES and
procure the bleffings they wanted; yet, by
confidering the Jewiſh ritual, and the par-
ticulars of the divine inftitution, even with-
out any farther view, there were many very
valuable purpoſes anſwered by it. One of
the moſt obvious is, a ftanding caution a-
gainſt that darling principle of the wife
men of this world, That there is no more
neceſſary to ſecure the pardon of fin, and
all the fruits of the divine favour, but re-
pentance and reformation. The whole in-
ſtitution proclaims, that without ſhedding
of blood there is no remiffion: the offend-
er who deſpiſed the eſtabliſhed order, or
even neglected the facrifice, and means of
cleanſing, appointed for his cafe, died with-
out mercy; he was to be cut off from his
people. It was only upon the appropriated
facrifice being prefented and offered ac-
cording to the eſtabliſhed order, that the
grant of
grace had its effect, that the of-
fender's fin fhould be forgiven him.
Had there been no more in this but a
bare divine appointment, it muſt have had
the fame effect; for as pardon, without all
queſtion, is what the fovereign may with-
hold at pleaſure, it muſt have been free to
him to grant it, on what terms, and in
what
PRIESTHOOD.
351
what manner he pleaſed. There was no
injury done the criminal, for he too was at
liberty; only he had nothing to hope but
from the promiſe annexed to the facrifice,
and that cut off all hopes in any other
way whatſoever.
Upon this principle, the finner who
brought the facrifice, muſt have proceed-
ed. And that implies at once the belief
of the free and gratuitous promiſe as it
ſtood connected with the facrifice, and an
abfolute renunciation of all other methods
whatever of attaining that favour. And
thus he acquiefced in God's way of con-
veying the bleffing; and in this very firſt
ſtep refted his faith and hope on the gra-
cious grant which God had made of par-
don and life.
Under the influence of this faith and
hope, he brought his facrifice to the prieſt
whom God had chofen and appointed for
that office, and confeffed his fins over the
head of the facrifice; by which it was un-
derſtood, as it was exprefsly declared in
the inftitution, that he laid his fin upon
the victim; and of courſe it was fubjected
to the puniſhment which he had deferved.
The prieſt, by his office, was obliged to
take
<
352
Eff. 16.
SACRIFICES and
take his facrifice off his hand, and along
with it his fin; not to be ſtained or polluted
by it, or loaded with the guilt, but to put
it away, by offering the facrifice accor-
ding to the eſtabliſhed order: but from
the time the facrifice was taken into the
prieft's hands, the finner was free; and if
there was any error committed in the of-
fering, that lay upon the prieſt, and not
upon him; only the finner ftood by, and
faw the blood of the innocent beaſt ſhed,
and its fleſh burnt upon the altar, an aw-
ful repreſentation of what he had deſerved
and muſt have ſuffered, had it not been
for the unmerited favour of a free and
gracious pardon.
It deferves our notice, that, from the
time the confeffion was made over the beaft
intended for facrifice, and the offender's
fin laid upon it, the victim took a new
name from what was done, and was called
fin; and under that defignation had its
blood, which we are often told is the life
of the animal, poured out, and itſelf burnt
upon the altar. By this we are taught a
very important leffon, That God never par-
dons a finner but where he condemns and
deftroys fin at the fame time. His perfect
goodneſs, as well as what we call his ju-
nice,
PRIESTHOOD.
353
1
ftice, makes it abfolutely neceffary, that
fin, that great, and in effect only, evil in
his fight, fhould be deftroyed out of his
world. He has kindly concerted a way
by which a ſeparation may be made be-
tween the finner and his fin; the finner
faved, and fin deftroyed. But if the fin-
ner will not ſubmit to this gracious provi-
fion, there is no remedy; he and his fin
muſt be deſtroyed together.
It cannot eſcape the notice of the moſt
curſory reader, that when the finner makes
his confeffion over the facrifice, he of
courſe acknowledges his having incurred
the penalty of the law, and that he has no
longer any right to his life, but in the
virtue of the facrifice, and the promiſe of
pardon annexed to it: and confequently,
renouncing any title he might have had
before the forfeiture, he lives ever after
purely in the ſtrength of the new grant
conveyed in the pardon.
I have not taken any notice of the fpe-
cial folemnity of theſe facrifices by which
the Ifraelitiſh nation were entered into
God's covenant, their daily facrifice, the
great day of atonement once every year, and
the particular facrifices of private perfons.
Whatever
VOL. I.
Y y
354
Eff. 16.
SACRIFICES and
Whatever difference there was in the fo-
lemnity, and particular circumſtances fuit-
ed to the ſeveral occafions, all of them a-
gree in anſwering the fame ends and pur-
pofes, to be fhadows, figures, and fenfible
repreſentations of fpiritual and heavenly
things, of the order and method which
the moſt high God, in whofe hands all
theſe things are, has eſtabliſhed for con-
veying pardon and eternal life to fin-
ners of mankind, and to be an exhibition
of himſelf in that light in which the A-
poſtle repreſents him; "God in Chriſt, re-
conciling the world to himſelf."
66
But, after all, it was impoffible the blood
of bulls or of goats could take away fin.
There was, the Apoſtle juftly obſerves, a
remembrance or recognition made of it
every year.
Theſe therefore could never
give perfect peace to the confcience of the
worſhippers, fenfible, that fin was growing
upon them every year, nay, and every
day; which made the application to the
inſtituted means of purification neceffary;
and the provifion, not only of annual, but
of daily facrifices, would not fuffer them
to forget it. Thus being weak, and una-
vailable, the worshipper's faith and hope
came
PRIESTHOOD.
355
came to be naturally led to that new and
better grant, which ſtands upon better pro-
mifes; where God is pleaſed to take the
whole burden upon himſelf, to write his
law in the heart, to be their God, and
to make them his people; and fo effectual-
ly to put away their fins and tranfgref-
fions, that they fhall be remembred no
more; the grant of eternal life which he
had fealed in the blood of his Son.
And this leads us to another and eſſen-
tial weakneſs in the Mofaic facrifices, that
the only promiſe annexed to the moſt ex-
act compliance was, that the fin ſhould be
forgiven; and that amounted to no more
than putting them in the fame ſtate in
which they were before the fin, thus for-
given, was committed; which reached no
farther than a prefent world, and gave no
fecurity at all against a new forfeiture.
Thus the worshipper was held in conti-
nual uncertainty even about a preſent life,
and had no profpect at all beyond the
grave, but in the promiſe of that feed in
whom all the families of the earth were to
be bleffed.
This promiſe, the goſpel publiſhed to A-
braham, was carried down through the
Y y 2
whole
356
SACRIFICES and
Eff. 16.
whole duration of the Jewish ftate, and
was received and reſted in precifely in the
fame manner as the gofpel of Chrift is
now, viz. by believing the promiſe, and ex-
pecting the bleffing through the intercef
fion and mediation of a greater priest, and
an infinitely more perfect facrifice. The
faith of theſe worſhippers was not confi-
ned within the narrow bounds of the Mo-
faic facrifices; but at the fame time that
they made their acknowledgements over
the beaſt that was to be offered, and had
their fins taken off, and left in the hands of
the prieſt who was to offer it, they had
their faith and hope fixed on the better
promiſe of eternal life, fecured in the
hands of the great prieſt over the houſe
of God, the true interceffor and mediator
between God and the finner.
And this leads to a farther obfervation:
When the Jewiſh prieſt took the fin of the
people upon himſelf, he became furety to
them that they fhould be no more bur-
dened with it; but, on the contrary,
ſhould be fecured in the promiſed bleffing.
And accordingly we find it was one eſſen-
tial part of his office, to bleſs the people in
the name of the Lord. This was done
with
PRIESTHOOD.
357
with the greateſt folemnity when the high
prieſt carried the appointed blood into the
holy place, and fprinkled it before the
mercy-feat.
This explains to us the title which the
Apoſtle gives our great high priest, when
comparing him with the Old-Teftament
prieſts. They were fureties of that cove-
nant under which they miniſtered, and
were bound to do every thing neceffary
for making good the promiſe contained in
it: but our Lord taking the fins of his
people upon himſelf, is furety of a better
covenant; better on account of the better
promiſes; not fimply of pardon, but eter-
nal life. And thus he ftands bound by
his office, not only to put away fin, but
effectually to convey the promiſed bleſſing.
This is quite another, and incomparably
greater thing, than what fome have refted
the import of it upon, viz. to be furety to
God for finners, and to make up the ho-
nour due to God and his law, by his per-
fect obedience. Accordingly, when our
great high priest had effectually put away
fin by the facrifice of himſelf, and enter-
ed into the true holy place, the very pre-
fence of God, with his own blood; he had
all
358
Eff. 16.
SACRIFICES and
all the bleffings ever God defigned for
mankind, eternal life, with all that be-
longs to it, all that is neceſſary for begin-
ning, carrying it on, and perfecting it in
glory, lodged in his hands.
Upon reflection even on this faint ſketch,
and yet more as it ſtands in the record, it
will appear, that our Lord's terms of dif-
cipleſhip, to deny ourselves, to take up our
cross, and to follow him, are really no more
than what every man who brought a fa-
crifice was bound to, and, if he was in
earneft, certainly did practife. He renoun-
ced all right or title to life, could have no
dependence on any thing he had done, or
could do, and betook himſelf to the free
grant of pardon, and the new right to life
there given him.
There has been great fault found with
a term commonly made ufe of in defcri-
bing the effect of Chrift's prieſthood and
facrifice, viz. his fatisfying the juftice of
God, or the demands of his law. It is
true, the word fatisfaction is no where to
be found in fcripture; and perhaps fome
accounts which have been given of it
are not altogether proper. But as there
can be no doubt made of his having punc-
tually
PRIESTHOOD.
359
tually diſcharged every part of the prieſtly
office, by taking upon himſelf the fins of
all that come to him in this character, and
thus being made fin for them, as the Old-
Teſtament facrifices were, and according-
ly binding himſelf to put them away,
which he actually did by his one facrifice;
and all this being done by the direction of
his heavenly Father, and in obedience to
the command he received from him; he
thus finiſhed the work which was given
him to do, and perfectly fulfilled the
terms on which the difpofition or grant of
eternal life was made to him in behalf of
a periſhing world. When theſe things are
confidered, the term, making full fatisfac-
tion, is by no means improper. But when
men are agreed in the matter, it ſeems
hardly becoming men of learning and can-
dour to fall out with one another about a
word.
19. The import of the word God.
TH
'HE often repeated promiſe of being
God to this or the other perfon or
people, naturally leads one to confider
what
360
Eff. 17.
The IMPORT of
The very
what it is to be God to one.
words carry in them an intimation of
what is commonly obferved, that it is a
relative term, and very different from an-
other, which we render Lord. It is agreed
by all, that JEHOVAH is an eſſential name;
and it will be eaſily allowed, that the Apoſtle
John's is the beſt tranſlation of it, “He
"who is, and was, and is to come;" the ef-
fential poffeffor and proprietor of being.
Our tranflators have been very juftly com-
plained of for rendering this by the rela-
tive term, Lord, after the later Jews, whoſe
fuperftition not permitting them to pro-
nounce this name, always fubftitute Adoni,
Lord, inftead of it. But certainly they
ought not to be followed by Chriſtians.
There would be the fame ground of
complaint for rendering the original name
Elahim, which is plural, by the fingular
word God, the origin and meaning of
which is not certainly known, had not the
writers of the New Teſtament uſed a word
of as uncertain derivation. And there are
but two ways I know of by which the
import of it can be afcertained; either to
have recourſe to the Old-Teſtament name,
or to gather up the particulars which are
found
the word GOD.
361
found to be comprehended in this fhort
expreffion of being a God to one. And if
theſe two are found to agree perfectly,
we may be well affured, that we have
fallen upon the true import and meaning
of it.
The original word ftands pointed ELO-
HIM. Thoſe who look upon pointing as a
modern invention of the apoftate Jews,
and with no good defign, and therefore
difregard it altogether, read ELAHIM,
and others ALEIM: the letters are the
fame, only affigning different powers.
The word evidently carries a plural
form; and that has occaſioned a variety of
fpeculations, many of them little to any
good purpoſe, and as ill founded. But
when it is confidered how propenfe the
people were to idolatry and polytheiſm,
the import of it cannot be the fame with
our word God: for that would have led
them to ſpeak juft as the Heathen did;
"The Gods do, or did, fo and fo." And
perhaps this very word carried off, and
brought into common ufe, without know-
ing what was defigned and intended by it,
might give countenancé, if not riſe, to that
unnatural notion of many gods.
VOL.I.
Z z
They
}
Eff. 17.
362
The IMPORT of
+
1
They who are beft acquainted with the
genius of the language, fhew a great in-
clination to derive it fome how from ala,
an oath; and fome, on no contemptible
grounds, fay pofitively, that a word of
preciſely the fame letters fignifies a fwearer,
or one that gives or takes an oath; and
which, they are pofitive, is the fingular of
Elahim or Aleim. But then this fuppofes a
plurality of Elahs or Ales. And indeed if
there be not, it is quite unaccountable, how
the creator of heaven and earth, the God
of Ifrael, came to affume a plural name.
Surely he who made the world, and taught
the firſt man the ufe of language, could
eafily have found a word which could not
be miſconſtructed or abuſed as this plural
name has been.
This obfervation is confiderably ſtrength-
ened by the other effential name, JEHO-
VAH, which is commonly joined with this,
and has no plural; which naturally leads
one to think, that in the one undivided
effence there are fubfifting more Ales than
one, who, for want of a proper word in
the modern languages, are called perfons,
very apt to mislead one into a notion of
three beings fubfifting feparately, which
would
the word GOD.
363
would be three Gods. Whereas, in the o-
riginal language, there is one JEHOVAH,
and three ELAHIM. I fay three; becauſe
throughout the record they are found to
be three; the Father, the Word, and the
Spirit; fhadowed and reprefented by the
three agents in the material world, viz. fire,
light, and air; and very often called by
their names:-" Our God is a confuming
"The Word made flesh;".
"The true Light that enlightens every
man that cometh into the world."
66
fire;"
But when all this is fuppofed, and even
made good, the doubt remains, How and
on what grounds theſe three take the name
of Elahim? And this will lead us to the fe-
cond way I mentioned of coming at the right
meaning of our word God; by conſidering
what God does, or binds himſelf by pro-
mife to do, when he undertakes to be God
or Elahim to any one, or what they have
to expect who have him to be their Ela-
bim.
There are three words or terms we find
very frequently made ufe of, and applied
to him, who is JEHOVAH ELAHIM; King,
Father, Lord; all relative, and the relation
intimated by them well known among
Z z 2
men.
364
Eff. 17.
The IMPORT of
2
2
men.
The great, and the only proper uſe
of them is, to help us to form our concep-
tions of him, who is in himſelf abſolutely
incomprehenfible; that is in the way of a-
nalogy; what a king is to his ſubjects, a
father to his children, and a lord or ma-
fter to his fervants or flaves, (for that is
the original word), that JEHOVAH ELA-
HIM is to thofe to whom he is Elahim.
But fure none will imagine, that he is
fuch a king, father, or lord, as men are
to one another. All analogical or tranf
lated terms need a great deal of adjuſting
to reduce them to propriety; and there-
fore none of them can give the true im-
port of the term which his perfect wiſdom
has feen fit to ufe. Could we conceive a
kingdom or family where all the fubjects
are children of him who is lord or king,
by uniting all the three, we might carry
our conceptions a good way, but ftill
greatly fhort of the truth.
There is another word commonly uſed a-
mong men, and the import of it rather better
understood; a Saviour, Redeemer, or Deliver-
er; which have nearly the fame meaning,
though perhaps fome circumftantial dif-
ference. Thoſe who have ever read the
Bible
the word Gov.
365
Bible with any attention, muſt have obfer-
ved, that this is often joined with Jehovah
in the fame manner as Elahim is; which
naturally leads one to think, that they are
either fynonymous terms, or ſo nearly al-
lied, that one cannot be without the o-
ther. Thus particularly he promiſed, and
thereby engaged himſelf, to be the Elahim
of Abraham and his feed, and as fuch to
give them the land of Canaan for a pof-
feffion. And in virtue of this promife,
he found himſelf bound to deliver them
from the bondage and tyranny of Pharaoh
and his Egyptians. Nor did he find him-
felf diſcharged of this obligation, until he
had put them in poſſeſſion of the promiſed
land. And on this foundation it is that
he affumes the title and rights of their
Lord and King, tempered with the amiable
and endearing title of Father.
It is, I believe, agreed among all Chri-
ftians, that the whole affair of old Ifrael,
and particularly their deliverance from E-
gypt, and being put into the poffeffion of
the promiſed land, was a type or figure, a
fenfible repreſentation, of deliverance from
an infinitely worſe bondage, under fin and
death, and him who hath the power of
death,
C
拿
​366
Eff. 17.
The IMPORT Of
death, that is, the devil, who leads the
poor thoughtleſs race of Adam captives at
his will. For this purpoſe the only Son
of God was fent to be the Saviour of the
world. And to have a fair view of this
divine name, we can have no better direc-
tory than the conftitution of grace, as it
was at firſt revealed to mankind imme-
diately after the fall, and carried on from
time to time by the miniftry of the Old-
Teftament prophets, until it was perfect-
ed in Jefus Chriſt.
There is one great point we are directed
to by the Ifraelitifh covenant, or the grant
of Canaan: That it was made to Abra-
ham, the chofen head and father of that
people, and confirmed by an oath; a won-
derful piece of condefcenfion! And this
we find always referred to as the reaſon of
God's gracious forbearance of that peo-
ple under their manifold provocations.
Through him, and in virtue of the pro-
mife made to him, all the favours he be-
ſtowed were conveyed. Our Lord gives
us the counter part, or what was reprefent-
ed by it, in theſe words, formerly quoted:
"I appoint unto you a kingdom, as my
"Father hath appointed unto me; that
ye
66 may
the word GOD.
367
'
may eat and drink at my table in my king-
"dom." This is a key to the whole teftimo-
ny of God, by which the frame of the con-
ftitution, or what we call the covenant,
of grace, is adjuſted; how the method of
grace takes its rife, and is carried on to
the full completion of it, in bringing fin-
ners, rebels, enemies, to be the fons of
God, and in bringing the fons of God in-
to glory. And could it be known when
and how this grant was made to Jefus
Chriſt, we ſhould, I believe, fee the true
meaning of this very fignificant name E-
labim.
That the plan of this divine conftitu-
tion was laid in the eternal counfels of
God, all Chriſtians muſt allow. They who
believe the doctrine of the Trinity, muſt
believe, that Father, Son, and Spirit, were
equally concerned in it. It muſt likewiſe
be acknowledged, that Jefus Chriſt, the
Son, or Word incarnate, was laid at the
foundation, and on him the whole was
built; confequently that he bore that charac-
ter from the date of theſe eternal counfels;
and of courſe that the grant of eternal life,
or the gift and difpofition of the kingdom,
was made to him in that fame character;
that
368
Eff. 17.
The IMPORT of
that is, in our low way of apprehending
the thing, the three Elahim made a grant to
one of themſelves, fuftaining that character.
And we are fure enough, that the grant
ſtood on certain terms; for the character
he bore was that of a prieſt, whoſe prin-
cipal buſineſs was, to put away fin by the
appointed facrifice; and in this cafe it was
by the facrifice of himſelf. His prieft-
hood therefore must be of the fame date
with the grant.
He was a prieft therefore of an order
peculiar to himſelf, a prieft after the or-
der of Melchifedeck; that is, fuch a prieſt
as was at the fame time a king; and, as
the Apoſtle explains it, king of righteouf-
nefs, and king of peace. And we are well
affured, that the whole was ratified and
confirmed by an oath, the oath of all the
Elahim; or, which is the fame thing, the
oath of Jehovah: "Jehovah hath ſworn,
"and will not repent, Thou art a prieſt
"for ever, or an eternal prieft." And thus
the Apoſtle illuſtrates the peculiar dignity
of his priesthood above the Levitical, that
he was made or conftituted prieſt with an
oath, Heb. vii. 21.
This brings us directly to the native
fenſe of this divine name; and at the
fame
the word God.
369
fame time fhews it to be wifely chofen,
and to carry in it what is of the utmoſt
importance to mankind; every thing they
want in order to their prefent and future
happineſs. Literally it is the fwearers:
and that neceffarily takes in what is fworn
to; the whole fyftem of grace, and all
that God has promifed to give to man-
The very
kind in and by his bleſſed Son. The
name carries in it the moît endearing view
one can poffibly imagine of any being,
and a fund inexhauftible of the ſtrongeſt
confolation.
It is in this view the Apoftle reprefents
God's oath to Abraham. "He fware by
66
himſelf, faying, Surely, bleffing, I will blefs
"thee." "that by two immutable things,
"wherein it was impoffible for God to lie,
66
we might have a ftrong confolation," &c.
It might readily be faid, What is God's
fwearing to blefs Abraham to us? Indeed
it would be nothing, were it not for the
matter of that bleſſing, the feed to whom
the promiſes are made, and for the hope
fet before us in him; by flying to which,
they who do fo, contract a new relation to
this father of the faithful or believers,
and thereby become heirs of the fame pro-
VOL. I.
iifes,
3 A
370
Eff. 18.
The PROPITIATORY,
mifes, and Jehovah ftands engaged to be
their Elahim as well as his.
18. The Propitiatory, or Mercy-feat.
Rom. iii. 25; Heb. ix. 5.
BY
Y comparing theſe two places toge-
ther, we will eaſily perceive, that the
Apoſtle means to tell us, that what the
mercy-feat was in the tabernacle and
temple, that Jefus Chrift is in the true and
heavenly temple. Jehovah Elahim dwelt
between, or inhabited, the cherubims of
glory, which fhadowed the mercy-feat;
for fo they did with their wings touching
one another. And thus our Lord tells us,
that he is in the Father, and the Father in
him; and that in Chriſt, as his reft, the Fa-
ther is well pleafed. His dwelling in the
cherubims was the fcnfible fign of his dwell-
ing among the Ifraelites, and being their E-
lahim. His dwelling in Chrift is incompa-
rably more ſo to us, when he hath given
his only begotten Son, and by him united
himſelf to this order of creatures. They
who receive him as he is given, can have
no doubt of God's dwelling with men
→
upon
+
or MERCY-SEAT.
371
upon earth, and that Jehovah is their Ela-
him.
But the title given by the Apoſtle, both
to the type and to the antitype, carries
fomething farther in it; not only the truth
of the thing, but the reaſon of it. Ιλαςήριον,
which is the original term in both the paſ-
ſages referred to, is more than . The
first is a propitiatory, the laft is propitiation,
the fruit or effect of it. This may perhaps
be the reaſon why, in Rom. iii. 25. (where
Ixashpov, inftead of a propitiatory, is rendered
a propitiation), our tranflators have inſerted
the fupplement to be, which would have
been needlefs had they kept by the native
import of the original word. A propitia-
tory is that which makes the propitiation;
for that is the fame thing as making one
propitious or gracious, who either had rea-
fon to be offended, or from whom there
was no reafon to expect fuch favours.
One needs no more but to read the hi-
ſtory of the old Ifraelites, to be affured,
that they had no reaſon to expect fuch ex-
traordinary favours as were fetured for
them in the promife made to Abraham.
And they muſt be ftrangers indeed to what
obviouſly appears to be the ftate of man-
kind, who do not find incomparably lefs
3 A 2
reafon
372
Eff. 18.
The PROPITIATORY,
*
reafon to expect fuch favours as the
grant made to Jefus Chrift in their be-
half; the grant, not only of the pardon
of fin, but of eternal life, with all the
perfection, glory, and happineſs, which
attend it. That the great creator and
fovereign of the univerſe ſhould be thus
propitious, and fhew fuch favours to fuch
creatures, requires fuch a foundation to
make it confiftent with perfect wifdom,
the higheſt reaſon, as none but he who is
poffeffed of it, could either find, or lay:
and firm and ftrong it must not only have
been, but appeared to men to be, which
had the whole weight of the firmeſt faith
and hope in God to bear.
The affurance which Jehovah gave to an-
cient Ifrael of being their Elahim, by fixing
his throne, a throne of grace, among them,
even on this curfory view, appears to have
been very great. But if we may ſuppoſe,
that they underſtood at the fame time
what was reprefented by the ark, with the
law in it, covered with the mercy-feat, and
cherubims of glory, which were but figures
for the time then prefent, and fhadows of
heavenly things, they muft have had the
fame views which we have now, of the
new
or MERCY-SEAT.
373
I
new head of mankind, defigned from e-
ternity the great prieſt-interceffor, the
furety of the everlaſting covenant or grant
of eternal life. In him, the promiſed feed,
they would find the great propitiatory,
the true foundation and mean of convey-
ance of all that favour and grace they re-
ceived, or hoped to receive, from the hand
of God; and muſt have ſeen, that the only
way in which they or we can believe that
God is, or will be, propitious, is faith, or
a believing dependence on his blood; by
the fhedding of which, he finiſhed the
work that was given him to do, fulfilled
the terms of the grant made to him, and
made over the fame kingdom by his te-
ftament to all who would receive it from
his hand, and hold it in his right.
T
19. Reconciliation.
HE direct and immediate, and, I
may ſay, the neceffary, fruit and ef-
fect of a propitiatory, is propitiation. And
when God has fet forth his ever-bleffed
Son a propitiatory, it gives a firm and fure
foundation for the ftrongeft confidence,
+
that,
A
374
Est. 19:
RECONCILIATION.
<<
66
(6
that (it is not, I think, proper to ſay, he
will be propitious, but that) he certainly
is propitious; that is, as he proclaimed his
name to Mofes, "Jehovah Elahim, gracious
and merciful, long-fuffering, flow to
wrath, and of great patience, forgiving
iniquity, tranfgreffion, and fin.” That
this is a juſt account of the divine nature,
and which we may call his very effence, ap-
pears abundantly from this fingle confidera-
tion, that, of his own proper motion, with-
out any external motive, he provided and
eſtabliſhed the great propitiatory. And as
that was eſtabliſhed from eternity in the
unchangeable counfels of the Elahim, from
the fame æra we muſt date his being propi-
tious. So that there never was a time when
he could be called an enemy to mankind;
though they had deferved to be treated as
enemies, becauſe they were really fo to
him; enemies in their minds through
wicked works.
God indeed is faid to be " angry with
"the wicked every day," and to have “ re-
"vealed his wrath from heaven againſt all
"ungodliness and unrighteoufnefs of men."
But a father may be angry, very angry,
with his children, and fhew his wrath by
puniſhing
RECONCILIATION.
375
puniſhing them feverely for their faults;
while yet he is fo far from being their e-
nemy, that this very anger, and the ſtrong-
eft expreffions he can give of it, not only
proceed from love, but are the ſtrongeſt
evidence of his concern for their wel-
fare. It would be enough to ſay, that
this is the very cafe with God; but there
is more in it. The faults of children
not only reflect difgrace on their parents,
but are otherwife often hurtful to their in-
terefts. But as creatures can bring no ad-
vantage to the creator by all the good they
can do; fo neither can their wickedness,
hurt him any farther than by marring
the effects of his love either in themſelves
or others. And therefore the only reaſon
of his anger and wrath, muft be, concern
for the good of his creatures, according
to his kind and gracious purpoſes ſet forth
in his bleffed Son, the great and only pro-
pitiatory, that fin may be deſtroyed, and
the finner faved.
It will be proper, however, to obſerve
here, that there is no foundation in all
this for that very loofe affertion, which
fome people, for very obvious reafons,
appear extremely fond of, viz. That
God never puniſhes an offender but with
a
1
376
E. 19.
RECONCILIATION.
a view to the advantage of the party fuf-
fering. Such is the effential goodness of
the great creator and fovereign of the u-
niverſe, that he cannot but hate, with the
moſt perfect hatred, (if that expreffion may
be allowed), all that kind of evil which
goes under the name of fin; the only evil
he hates, and which he therefore will ccr-
tainly deſtroy out of his world. He has
indeed appointed, in his perfect wisdom,
a way in which fin may be deſtroyed by
the facrifice of his bleffed Son, the great
propitiatory; and they who fincerely and
heartily acquiefce in it, may be as fure of
pardon and eternal life as God can make
them. But if any finner will, in any in-
ſtance, make the God of truth a liar, and
neglect his great falvation, he and his fin
muſt be deſtroyed together.
But however that may be, nothing can
be more evident from the whole of the di-
vine conduct, than that God is not, that he
never was, nor indeed can be, an enemy to
mankind: and therefore to talk of his being
reconciled, must be rather fomething worfe
than an improper way of ſpeaking, as it
has a native tendency to confirm a finner
in that very injurious notion of God,
which
RECONCILIATION.
377
which nothing but an evil conſcience could
ever have fuggefted, and is the occafion of
all thoſe doubts, fears, jealoufies, and evil
furmifings, wherein the ſtrength of that
aſtoniſhing fin of unbelief lies. There
likewife lie the roots of that heart-enmity
againſt God, which is the fpring of all fin.
For fo long as we confider him as an ene-
my, how is it poffible we can love him?
The Chriſtian duty of loving our enemies
has a foundation both to recommend and
enforce it, which can have no place here:
it is the knowledge and belief of the love
of God as manifeſted in Chriſt Jeſus; and
that is the only thing that can deſtroy our
natural enmity, and plant the love of God
in our hearts.
There are indeed feveral texts in our
tranflation of the Old Teftament which
ſeem to ſpeak of God's being reconciled to
finners. But by the moft curfory glance on
the original and context, they only feem
to do fo: for in thofe very cafes it plainly
appears, that God is fo far from being an
enemy, or acting as fuch, that the whole
defign of thoſe tranſactions is, to convince
felf-condemned finners of the grofs mif-
take, and thereby to reconcile their hearts
VOL. I.
3 B
to
378
Efl. 19.
RECONCILIATION.
to him, by deftroying the very roots of
their enmity againſt him.
66
66
66
This is the view which the writers of
the New Teflament uniformily give of the
buſineſs of reconciliation. The Apoſtle,
Rom. v. 10. ftates the cafe plainly: "If when
66 we were enemies, we were reconciled to
God by the death of his Son; much more,
"being reconciled, we fhall be faved by his
"life." And yet more plainly, becauſe more
fully, 2 Cor. v. 18. 19. 20. All things are of
God, who hath reconciled us to himſelf
" by Jefus Chrift," &c. Theſe words need
no commentary. So far is God from being
an enemy, that his declared purpoſe is, to re-
concile us to himſelf by Jefus Chrift. And
he hath taken the moſt kind and endearing
methods to effect it: Not contented with
fending his bleſſed Son into the world, the
moft undoubted token of his warmeft
friendſhip and tendereſt love, he hath ap-
pointed an order of men, whom the Apo-
ftle calls ambaſſadors for God, whoſe office it
is to beſeech and pray finners, in Chriit's
name and ſtead, to be reconciled to God.
This naturally leads us to a more parti-
cular confideration of the method the wif-
dom of God hath chofen for reconciling the
world
RECONCILIATION.
379
world to himſelf; very different indeed from
that which the philofophers and wiſe men
of the world have pitched upon. The wiſeſt
of the Heathen had nothing either to affift
or fupport their reafoning powers, but
fragments of old traditions, very imperfect,
and miferably mangled: and yet upon
theſe we ſhall find that all their fublimeft
notions of religion were originally founded;
and they muſt either have made what they
could of them, or have thrown up the
purſuit altogether. Accordingly one, who
was reckoned the wiſeſt of them, chofe the
laft; and attempting to put afunder what
the creator had infeparably joined, contri-
ved a ſyſtem of what is called morality, in-
ſtead of religion.
Our lateſt philofophers, who ought to have
known better, feem to value themfelves on
merely copying after this pattern; and
what their predeceffors were forced into
by their circumſtances, they have made their
choice. The knowledge of God was in the
days of the former very low. As they had no
convincing evidence that all things in the u-
niverſe were once nothing, they could have
no notion of the diftinguifhing character
of the true God, viz. the creator of heaven
3 B 2
and
380
Eff. 19.
RECONCILIATION.
1
and earth, but what came by a faint tra-
dition yet this is the firft and fundamen-
tal principle of all religion, that it is only
by the fovereign favour and grace of the
creator that any creature can fubfift. The
moft they could make of the character of
Deity, was that of an univerfal monarch;
and even this they were forced to limit by
fuch reſtrictions as are neceffary among
men for preventing the abufe of abfolute
power. A wife and righteous moral, go-
vernor was the beſt they could make of
what they called God; and the meaſures of
his government were, rewards and puniſh-
ments, in fuch proportion as the philofo-
pher thought right.
Our moderns are nothing near ſo excuſe-
able for though they, no more than
thofe, either know, or can fo much as i-
magine, any power adequate to fuch an
effect as the producing a real being out of
nothing; though they neither have, nor pof-
fibly can have, any fatisfying evidence, that
this univerſe was once nothing, or even in
any other ſtate than it has been in ever
fince there were men to obferve it; yet they
boldly take it for granted, that all theſe
things are the works of that being which
they call God; and on this bottom build a
fyftem
+
RECONCILIATION.
381
fyftem of what they call natural re-
ligion, and fuch a plan of moral go-
vernment as their Heathen predeceffors
groped out for themſelves before them.
And all their buſineſs is not fo much how
to reconcile themſelves to God, as how
to placate and reconcile a fovereign who
has the greateſt reaſon to treat them as e-
nemies. An arduous taſk this! But the
men are fo fully perfuaded of the all-fuffi-
ciency of their own rational powers, that
they ſcorn to have any recourfe to foreign
affiſtance, unleſs perhaps to men who
have wrought upon the fame plan before
them.
Were men indeed as innocent as when
the firſt of the kind came out of the crea-
tor's hands, the immenfity of perfection
that appears in the works which the being
we call God is fuppofed to be the author
of, could not fail to produce the higheſt
degree of eſteem, the profoundeſt awe and
reverence. And if they were perfuaded at
the fame time, that they owed their lives
and all their enjoyments and pleaſures of life
to him, there would likewife be fomething
of gratitude. This would of courſe produce
anfwerable meafures of love, were not the
operation
382
Eff. 19.
RECONCILIATION.
operation marred, partly by the terrors of
majeſty ſo infinitely above them, but eſpe-
cially by the uncertainty of what they have
to hope or fear from him, or how he
means finally to difpofe of them. Innocent
creatures can never arrive at fuch a pitch
of arrogance as to claim any thing as their
due; they find themfelves abfolutely in
the hand of their creator, and know not how
foon he may fee fit to put an end to their be-
ing. This reflection comes with redoubled
force on all mankind, who certainly know
they muſt die; and that looks fo like put-
ting an end to their being, that the very
thought chills the heart, cafts a damp up-
on all the comforts and joys of life, and
of courſe deadens gratitude, and leaves
the heart in a ſtate of cold indifference at
beft and fo long as they know of no o-
ther life, nor any other way of living, jea-
loufies and fears readily creep in, that, af-
ter all God has done for them, he may yet
be ſo much their enemy, as to deprive
them of all he has given.
Though this temper is bad enough, and
ſo immenſely ſhort of that ardency of love
which is ftrictly due to a benefactor of ſo
much worth and excellence, it were well
if
}
RECONCILIATION.
383
}
But
if the parties reſentment ſtopt there.
creatures made as we are, for a preſent
world, and with hearts and fentiments
formed upon the pleaſures and gratifica-
tions in the way of living here, will find
it very hard to be deprived of them all, as
death certainly will deprive us of all; and
will ſcarcely be able to avoid wiſhing, that
the firſt and beſt of beings were ſo much
better, or more indulgent, as to continue us
in the eternal poffeffion of what our hearts
are fo warmly attached to: and when we
are fure this cannot be, muft not the feeds
of enmity be deeply planted there, though
we dare not allow ourſelves to acknowledge
them?
But none of the defcendents of Adam are,
or can be, in a ſtate of mere innocence. E-
very creature of God was defigned to an-
fwer fome purpoſe or other. While they
do fo, they continue innocent; but no
longer; the leaſt failure is criminal in ſome
degree. Whatever other purpoſes man was
defigned to anſwer, it may not be doubted,
that he ſtood bound in the ftrongeſt man-
ner to acknowledge his creator, and all
his benefactions, with the natural ho-
mage
384
Eff. 19.
RECONCILIATION.
mage of adoration, the warmeft gratitude
and love, and of courfe a hearty acquief-
cence in every intimation of his will;
which cannot fubfift without a thorough
confidence in his wifdom and goodness.
Where this is refufed, or even neglected,
the man becomes criminal; and if he con-
tinues in that way, becomes a rebel to the
great ſovereign.
That all the children of Adam are fin-
ners, is a truth ſo obvious, and ſo univer-
fally acknowledged, that it would be idle
to ſpend words on it. For however earneſt
we may be in afferting our innocence in
particular inftances, none were ever yet
found fo mad as to ftand upon their abfo-
lute innocence; and if we once admit that
we are finners, it follows of courſe that we
are abfolutely at the creator's mercy. It is
without all difpute free to him either to
pardon or to puniſh. But, all things confi-
dered, it will be found infinitely more
probable, that he will puniſh. His very
goodneſs ferves to make it neceffary: For
how can a being, who perfectly hates, and
cannot look upon this evil, fuffer it in his
world? At any rate, we can never be fure he
will pardon, unleſs he fhall tell us fo; nor
how,
RECONCILIATION.
385
1
how, and on what terms he will do fo, but
by the intimation of his will. Thoſe who
know God's perfect goodneſs, and abhor-
ence of fin, will find all the reaſon in the
world against it. Sin, we are fure, muft
be condemned and deſtroyed; and how
that can be done without condemning and
deſtroying the finner, is beyond the reach
of created wiſdom to fay.
There lies the foundation of that enmi-
ty fo deeply inlaid in the heart of every
child of Adam, until they are reconciled to
God. It is not, I believe, in the power of
any creature, but certainly it is not in the
power of man, to love or hate at pleaſure,
and merely becauſe he chufes to do fo.
There muſt be fomething in the object
that determines us either way, and touch-
es the heart in a manner that is not always
eafy to be accounted for. We naturally, and,
I think, one may fay, neceffarily, love
what appears good, and in the fame man-
ner hate what appears evil. No body will
deny, that God is perfectly and abfolutely
good, and worthy of the higheſt meaſure
both of our esteem and love. But abfo-
lute goodneſs, however it may approve it-
felf to the judgement, never touches the
VOL.I.
heart,
3 C
386
Eff. 19.
RECONCILIATION.
heart, unleſs we find our own intereſt in
it. Until we believe that God is good
to us, and according to our notions of
goodnefs too, the higheſt approach to him
goes no further than a cold approbation.
But if we perceive, or imagine we per-
ceive, any thing in his character inconfift-
ent with what we find our pleaſure in, it
is impoffible we can be pleafed with him;
and fo much as is wanting of that, fo
much enmity muſt be found in the heart,
however carefully concealed. And fuch is
the ſtate of every heart where the love of a
prefent world is the ruling paffion. But
if one comes feriously to believe, that
however good he is in his general charac-
ter, he is an irreconcileable enemy to fin;
he will eafily believe what an evil con-
fcience fuggefts, that the finner has no-
thing to expect but everlaſting deſtruc-
ction from his prefence.
How hard it is to reconcile a finner to
God, we may eafily judge, by the meaſures
which infinite wifdom has taken to ac-
compliſh it, and the little fuccefs they
had with the generality of mankind. Se-
neca tells us of a love-charm prefcribed
by
RECONCILIATION.
387
by an old philofopher, If you want to be be-
loved, love. And it is the only means that e-
ver did, or ever will fucceed. It is the way
perfect wiſdom has taken to reconcile fin-
ners, enemies to God in their minds, and
root out thofe fears, jealoufies, and mif-
givings of heart, fuggefted by an evil con-
ſcience, and the love of a prefent world;
which are ſo ſtrong, that we may boldly
fay, nothing but the knowledge and belief
of the love of God as manifefted in Chrift,
can effectually balance the heart againſt
them, and recover it to God.
Much has been faid by men at eaſe of
the divine placability, and the mercy and
compaffion fo effential to his perfect nature.
But when all is faid on that fubject that can
be faid, our hope can rife no higher than a
bare poffibility; it may be, that the God
whom we have fo long and fo fhamefully
affronted, may be fo good as to pardon us.
But it may alſo be, that his wiſdom may fee.fit
to puniſh us; and the probability certainly
lies on that fide. But fuppofe we ſhould
carry it as high as the moſt fanguine hope
can go, and that we might be fure he will
pardon all that is paſt, what, would be the
effect of it? A bare pardon can only re-
3 C 2
ftore
388
Eff. 19.
RECONCILIATION.
ftore us to the cafe we were in before the
fin was committed; but gives no fecurity
againſt after 'finning, and the puniſhment
that it will deferve; which muft of courſe
be greater, as the provocation is higher.
Nay, and if we ſhould be even ſecured a-
gainſt that, the effect could only be, lea-
ving us in the quiet poffeffion of a prefent
life, and what we can make of a prefent
world and to that we know death will
very foon put a final end; and there is an
end of all our hopes, unleſs we have the
profpect of another life, after theſe bodies,
which make an effential part of the man,
are diffolved into inanimate duft.
Much has been faid of the natural im-
mortality of the foul: It is a ſpirit, and
fpirits cannot die, as animals do, by a
diffolution of the component parts. But
death and annihilation are two different
things: and, notwithſtanding the very
pofitive affertions of philofophers ancient
or modern, we are very fure the foul is
not the man, but a component part of
him; and however it may fubfift after ſe-
paration from the body, the man, the
child of Adam, is dead, and can never
live more, unleſs foul and body are again
united.
RECONCILIATION.
389
united. A feparate foul is a being of a
quite different kind; and how it fubfifts
and lives, what its buſineſs is, and wherein
the pleaſures and enjoyments of that life
lie, the wifeft philofopher may imagine,
but really can know no more of, than the
moſt ignorant peaſant.
Theſe fort of views, it is evident, are
by much too faint to balance the heart a-
gainſt the lofs of a preſent life, and all the
comforts we preſently poffefs, or might
hope to enjoy, if we could be ſure of the
continuance of it: fo that, upon the whole,
we ſhall have more reafon to be diſpleaſed
than delighted with the profpect; and of
courſe find nothing to endear to us the cha-
racter of the fovereign difpofer of all. But if
we could be fure of another, a better and
happier life to continue for ever, after death
has put an end to this fhadow of life we
derive from Adam, the cafe would be
greatly altered, and the divine character
appear in ſuch an amiable light, as would
at once captivate the heart into the warm-
eft fentiments of gratitude and love.
But this is an affurance that none but
God himſelf can give; and he has given it
in
390
REGENERATION, and Eff. 20.
in the moſt endearing manner in the record
he has made, and the teftimony he has gi-
ven concerning his Son: For this is the
record, that he has given us eternal life;
and, for greater fecurity, lodged it where it
muſt be perfectly ſafe, even in the hands of
his bleſſed Son; lodged it as certainly there,
as he has fent his Son to be the faviour of the
world; and not only allowed, but command-
ed, every man, without exception, to receive
him, and to trust in him, not only for par-
don, but eternal life, in a perfect conformity
to the ſtandard of perfection, Jefus the Son
of God, exalted as he is at the right hand
of the Majeſty on high. If we know this
Jefus, and truft him as he deſerves, we
muſt know and believe the love of God to
us, and love him who firſt loved us.
1
20. Regeneration, and Eternal Life.
"HE grace of God which brings fal-
TH
vation, and his love to man, have
appeared in fuch a ftrong and furpri-
fing light, in the gift he has made of
Jefus Chrift, with
Chrift, with not only
not only pardon,
but eternal life in him, that it is
quite
{
ETERNAL LIFE.
391
quite aftoniſhing how
how any finner that
hears the report of it, can be hardened to
fuch a degree of perverfenefs, as to ne-
glect ſo great a falvation. But experience
affures us it is a common cafe, and none
of us need go farther than ourſelves to
feel it. Our Lord lets us in to the my-
ftery of it. The love of God, wonderful
as it is, is not to be perceived but in
Chrift; who hath affured us," that no man
66
can come to him, unleſs his heavenly
"Father draw him;" or, in other words,
66
that no man can believe in him, unleſs it
"be given him of the Father." And the rea-
fon of this he likewife gives, viz. that none
of the children of Adam have life in them-
felves, but are dead in treſpaſſes and fins,
until they are quickened with that new life
which is lodged in his hands. There is
hardly any thing that the men of the world,
even the wifeft of them, are more loath to
believe: but what our Lord told Nicode-
mus, though it feemed an inconceiveable
thing to him, yet is moſt certainly true,
"That unleſs a man be born again, he
66
can by no means enter into the king-
"dom of heaven;" and that is the fame
with obtaining eternal life; which cannot
be
392
REGENERATION, and Eff. 20.
be but by entering the child of Adam in-
to the fpiritual and eternal world.
That there is a fpiritual and eternal
world, completely provided for the fubfift-
ence and entertainment of created fpirits,
its natural inhabitants, is as certain, as
that there is a God, and fuch beings as
created fpirits. But of that world we never
had known, nor yet can know any thing,
with tolerable certainty, but by report, and
the teſtimony of fuch as are acquainted
with it. We have no correſpondence
with any of the created inhabitants, and
can have no information but from him
who has given us hopes of being admit-
ted there. He has given information fo far
as we are capable of receiving it; but that
can be no further than human language has
words to exprefs, or than our world hath
images to convey, fome notion of theſe un-
feen things: for direct ideas we neither have,
nor can have, of any of thoſe things which
cannot be imaged. From what falls under
our obfervation in the fenfible and ratio-
nal world, all our defcriptive terms are,
and muſt be taken; and all the knowledge
we can receive of that unſeen world, muſt
fubfift in pure analogy, and the refem-
blance
ETERNAL LIFE.
393
blance which this of ours bears to it. And
in this view we are directed to confider it
as a defigned figure, or fenfible reprefen-
tation, of eternal and unfeen things.
We can fay nothing about life or being
farther than we can gather from what we en-
joy of them; but the things themſelves are
as much myſtery to us as creation out of
nothing. We may know how we came into
this world, and enter upon life; how we
are fupported and maintained in the pof-
feffion of it; and how we are fitted and
qualified, by the powers belonging to it, for
the buſineſs and enjoyments of life: and
that is all we have any concern with; the
giving and difpofal of life are entirely in the
hand of the creator.
po-
The life we now enjoy was originally
lodged in the hands of our firſt father,
and from him derived down to all his
fterity in the courfe of what we call ordi-
nary generation, the only method of en-
trance into this world. In this way all
the powers neceffary for living, for taking
in the proper food and nourishment for
fupporting life, and raifing the man to his
proper degree of ftature, and ftrength of
body or mind, are conveyed. But all de-
VOL.I.
pends
3 D
394
Eff. 20.
REGENERATION, and
pends on the connection eſtabliſhed be-
tween us, and the material fyftem in which
we ſubſiſt; the heat and light of the fun,
and the air we conftantly breathe in. When
this connection is broken, though there is
not any particle loft, life is at an end; the
man dies; and the curious bodily ma-
chinery is crumbled into its original duſt.
;
No body will imagine that ſpirits can
be fupported in life by the fame means
that our bodies are; but it would at once
be a very grofs and dangerous miflake,
to think that life is effential to them
or, which is the fame thing, that they
have life in themſelves. There is a fpiri-
tual ſyſtem as well as a material one, and
it is in dependence on, and connection
with, that ſyſtem, that ſpirits live. There,
we are told, is fpirit anſwering our mate-
rial air; and in the original languages there
is but one word for both. There alfo is
the light of life, and that ſpiritual warmth
and heat in which life confifts; all of them
as neceffary for fupporting the life of a
fpirit, as the material light and air are for
fupporting the natural life. Whenever this
connection is broken, the ſpirit muſt die;
that is, though the ſubſtance of it conti-
nues the fame, yet it muſt be incapable of
exerting
ETERNAL LIFE.
395
exerting the proper functions of the fpiri-
tual life; or, to fay the thing in the moſt
proper terms human language affords, it
cannot live upon God, and take in the
pleaſures and gratifications, the comforts
and joys, which are to be found in him,
who is the very life, and, we may fay, the
only ſubſtance of the fpiritual and eternal
world.
That this is the very ftate in which all
the children of Adam are naturally found,
none, I think, needs to be told. They who
doubt of it, need only try what they can
make of God, of the happineſs, pleaſure,
and joy, which are certainly to be found
in beholding the glory of God, and in
the ſenſe of his friendſhip and love; and
they will find themſelves abfolute ſtran-
gers to that way of living. Sin made
the feparation between the creator and
our firft father; and the infurmountable
diſtance has been continued and kept up
by the fame unhappy means. In his
great goodneſs he has provided a way for
deftroying fin, and faving the finner. The
fulneſs of life is lodged in Jefus Chrift,
who is the head of mankind in the fpiritual
and eternal world, even as the firſt Adam
was in this; and the fpiritual life must be
3 D 2
conveyed
396
Eff. 20.
REGENERATION, and
ral one.
conveyed from him in a manner fomething
analogous to the conveyance of this natu-
And thence arifes the name of
regeneration and the new birth, the way in
which the Apoftle faith mankind are fa-
ved: Tit. iii. 5. 6. "Not by works of righ-
"teoufnefs which we have done, but ac-
66
66
cording to his mercy he faved us, by the
waſhing of regeneration, and renewing
"of the Spirit; which God, in his love
"and kindneſs to man, fheds or pours
66
out abundantly through Jefus Chrift the
"Saviour."
How the conveyance of life is made, ei-
ther in the one birth or the other, is no
more poffible to be apprehended, than how
life was given to the firſt man. In the natu-
ral birth into this external world, however
the body may be formed by the mediation
of material mechanifm, it is, I believe, al-
lowed by every body, that there is an in-
terpofal of divine power equivalent at leaſt
to that by which being was firſt given to
all things. The fecond birth, by which
the children of Adam are born again, into
the fpiritual world, we find defcribed in
the fame terms: It is faid to be a new crea-
tion, the workmanship of God; and the ef-
fect of it is ſtyled a new creature.
'I
ETERNAL LIFE.
397
I know not why men fhould have been
fo loath to admit the native and proper
ſenſe of theſe terms, and fo anxious to
have them ranked in the clafs of ftrained
and high-founding metaphors, unleſs it
be, that they cannot reconcile proper
creation, or the interpofal of creating
power, with their darling plan of moral
government: and they are indeed in-
confiftent; for the Apoſtle exprefsly op-
pofes faving by works of righteouſneſs,
to faving by regeneration and the renew-
ing of the Spirit. And how can they be
faid to be born of God, and born of the
Spirit, as the only way by which finners can
be entered into the fpiritual and eternal
world, if there is not an exertion of the
fame power which entered them into the
material world, by the firſt, and what we
call the natural birth?
But the evidence does not ftand fingly
on the words and terms which perfect wif-
dom has chofen, though that ought to
carry full conviction; the very nature of
the thing requires fuch an interpofal of
divine power. The two worlds into which
the firſt and fecond birth enters men, are
effentially different, even as different as
God and the creature; confequently, the
way
398
Eff. 20.
REGENERATION, and
way of living, and of courſe the principle
we call life, which fits and qualifies the
creature for either ſtation and way of living,
muſt be equally different. The life conveyed
from the firſt man enters us into this pre-
fent world, and qualifies us for the way of
living here, viz. living upon the creature:
A life which the curfe of God refts upon,
and will certainly deſtroy; and a life
which is fo far from fitting us for living
as fpirits do, living on God as children do
on their father, that it is utterly inconfiftent
with it, infomuch that no man can enter
upon this new life, but by crucifying, mor-
tifying, and renouncing the former: "Fleſh
"and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of
"God." The love of a prefent life and of a
prefent world, the conſtituent principle of
the child of Adam; and the love of God,
the conſtituent principle of the new crea-
ture; are utterly inconfiftent, and deſtroy
one another.
That theſe are refpectively the conſti-
tuent principles of the two lives conveyed
to us by the first and fecond birth, the
experience of many thouſand years, even as
many as the world has ſtood, abundantly
proves. The Spirit of God conveyed
through Jefus Chrift produces the one, the
fpirit
ETERNAL LIFE.
399
fpirit of the world, indeed the ſpirit which
works in the children of difobedience, in-
Aluences the other. Nature can rife no
higher than to take in the report of the
life which the fpirit of Chrift gives, and
to balance it by the powers of reafon: and
tho' reafon will give its verdict on Chriſt's
fide; yet it has not ſufficient ſtrength to de-
ftroy the love of the world, and the appe-
tites and paffions raiſed and employed un-
der it. The ftrong man armed will keep
the houſe, until a ftronger than he comes,
takes away his armour, caſts out his ſtuff,
and fits it up for himſelf. And the power
that is neceffary for that purpoſe, or fo
much as to bring a child of Adam to be-
lieve in Chriſt, and of courfe to live by
him, muſt be the fame, as the Apoſtle tells
us, that raiſed up Chrift from the dead.
But, fay our wife men, there can be no
new creation, nor new birth here, but
only a metaphorical one; for there is no
new ſubſtance created, nor any new fa-
culties given, only the old ones are re-
fined, and directed to their proper ob-
jects. Should we fee one of thoſe animals
we are beſt acquainted with, taken from
the plough or the paſture, transformed into
a
400
Eff. 20.
REGENERATION, and
a man, and endued with a capacity for en-
tering into all the refinements of metaphy-
fical, and the moſt abftruſe parts of natu-
ral philoſophy, we would readily fay there
was a new creation: and yet, if Jefus
Chriſt and his apoſtles do not deceive us,
the natural or animal man, the mere child
of Adam, who is at his higheſt only a li-
ving foul, is really as incapable of living
as fpirits do, until he is transformed in
the ſpirit of his mind by the Spirit of life
conveyed by Jefus Chrift the creator.
By what falls under our fenfes in the ani-
mal or vegetable creation, we are able to
diflinguiſh one fpecies from another, and
to obferve whatever fupernatural changes
may be made in any of them. But fpirits
are not the objects of our bodily fenſes; we
know nothing of their fubftance, and but lit-
tle of their properties and powers; and from
the fuperficial knowledge we have of their
nature, are apt to imagine they are all of
one kind: though, for any thing we know,
they may be as different from one another,
according to the feveral purpoſes they are
defigned to anfwer, as the feveral kinds of
animals are. Human fouls are evidently
a very low, if not the lowest clafs of all,
defigned
ETERNAL LIFE.
401
defigned to act not only in conjunction'
with, but in abfolute dependence on, grofs
material bodies. The perceptive powers,
on which all our knowledge is founded,
extend no further than material objects,
and what we are conſcious of in ourſelves,
and a prefumption that other men are like
us. Our active powers are in the fame
manner very limited. The whole of the
fpiritual world lies fo far beyond our reach,
that we can make nothing of it, until he
who breathed or infpired the breath or
fpirit of life into the firft man, infpires or
conveys the ſpirit and life of Chrift, and
either gives new powers and faculties, or
enlarges and new-moulds the old ones, in
a fuitableneſs unto the place and ftation
they are advanced to in Chrift, ſo as to
enable them to perceive fpiritual objects,
to judge of their worth and excellency,
and to find their pleafure, happineſs, and
joy, in God, through the Lord Jefus
Chriſt.
Could we make out a defcription of this
fame fpiritual world into which the chil-
dren of Adam are entered by the new
birth, of the way of living there, the
VOL. I.
bufinefs
3 E
402
REGENERATION, and Eff. 20.
buſineſs and employments of the inhabi-
tants, their enjoyments and happineſs in
the all-fufficiency of Jehovah, it would
appear with convincing evidence, that
there is in every refpect as proper creation
in the new birth as in the old. But this is
as impoffible as it is to give a detail of the
fulneſs and all-fufficiency of that God who
is all in all there, yea, the very ſubſtance of
that world, and of the happineſs that thoſe
who are entered there muft find in him
who is love, and appears in that amiable
character to all the inhabitants; for they
are all his children through Jefus Chrift.
This the Apoftle John celebrates, as at
once the ſtrongeſt evidence, and the moſt
endearing commendation of the love of God,
1 John iii. 1. And well he might. It was
much that the great proprietor and fove-
reign of heaven and earth fhould conde-
fcend to pardon finners, rebels, enemies
it was more, that he fhould make them a
free gift of eternal life in his own bleffed
Son, and thereby juſtify them from all
things, from which it was impoffible for
them to be juſtified by any law that could
be given, or any meafures of moral govern-
ment; but the endearing manner in which
the
ETERNAL LIFE.
403
“Behold!
the gift is conveyed crowns all: "
66 what manner of love the Father hath
"bestowed on us, that we fhould be cal-
66
led the fons of God?" The higheſt ti-
tle, the neareſt and moſt endearing rela-
tion, and at the fame time the happieft;
for the Apoſtle's conclufion is out of dif
pute, "If children, then heirs; heirs of
"God, and joint heirs with Chrift."
66
Men may adopt ftrangers into their fa-
mily; they can give the rank, and a right
to the inheritance of the family: but they
cannot give them the ſpirit of children; they
muſt take them as they find them. But it
does not become him who is perfect in
underſtanding and wifdom to adopt at
random. When he confers the relation
and rights, he at the fame time gives them
the ſpirit of children, and forms them into
a meetnefs for the dignity of that ſtation,
and a capacity of enjoying the inheritance:
"For we know, when he the bleffed and
66
66
66
66
glorious Son of God fhall appear, we
fhall be like him; for we fhall fee him
as he is." To be made like the bleffed,
the glorious Son of God! who is "the
brightneſs or fhine of the Father's glory,
"and the exprefs image of his perfon," is
3 E 2
furely
4.04
REGENERATION, and Eff. 20.
furely to be made as like God as it is poffible
for a creature to be. And muft not theſe be
an order or fpecies of beings very different
from the natural children of Adam, who
bear only the image of that earthly man;
living fouls, or rather living bodies, and no
more; or, as the Apoſtle defcribes them,
fenfual, having not the Spirit."
66
Thus there is made, and thus only can
be made, an effectual provifion againſt a
difficulty which has very juſtly puzzled the
wifeft moral governors; when it is fit to
pardon, and when to puniſh, offenders and
criminals. It is not enough to ſay, as many
who reckon themſelves very wife take upon
them to fay, that the penitent ought to
be pardoned, and the impenitent puniſh-
ed. But what wiſdom can determine with
any certainty who are truly penitent? and
yet more, what fecurity can be had of fuch
a mutable and weak being as man, that he
ſhall not on ſome new temptation fall into
the fame crimes? An experiment was made
on the moſt perfect man that ever was;
and after his fhameful failure, who of his
pofterity could be fit to be trufted? There
was indeed one, and only one; but he had
the fulness of the Divine Spirit dwelling in
him;
}
ETERNAL LIFE.
405
him; and nothing can fecure the creature
but the fame Spirit.
$
T
21. The Spirit, and Infpiration.
HE Apoſtle has faid fo exprefsly,
"that if any man has not the Spi-
"rit of Chrift, he is none of his," that
none who know any thing of Chriſt dare
venture to deny it: nor indeed will any
doubt of it, but fuch as flatter themfelves
they can do well enough without him; or
at leaſt that they need no more but to
have the terms of life propofed to them, a
law which fhall give life, by the obfervance
of which they are to work out their own
falvation. But, unhappily for them, the A-
poſtle knew of no fuch law; for he tells us
very exprefsly, there was no fuch law exift-
ing in his time; and in his time the way of life
was finally adjufted and fettled. And hence it
appears certain, that if there is any law now
among men which pretends to convey life to
the obfervers of it, or gives them any hope
in that way, it can be none of God's ma-
king. He has left no poffible way to e-
ternal
406
Eff. 211
The SPIRIT,
ternal life, but the free fovereign gift he
has made of it in his Son; nor any other
way of conveying life, but by his Spirit.
The record we have in our hands of
God's ways with man is, from the begin-
ning to the end of it, fo full of the fame
Spirit, that there is no getting rid of the
term, without abfolutely rejecting the
whole record. But the word happens to
be uſed there, and yet more in common
language, in very different fenfes, which
has given occafion to very different con-
ftructions of words which feem to be in
themſelves very plain; and thence occafion
has been taken to explain away the mean-
ing of feveral propofitions, which one
fhould think could not be mistaken.
The term fpirit, in its firft and natïve
fenfe, denotes a fubftance, of a nature al-
together, and almoſt in every refpect, dif-
ferent from matter; and is applied pri-
mmarily to the first being, the Father of fpi-
rits, as the Apoſtle very emphatically calls
him who has life in himſelf, and is the
fountain of life to all created fpirits, thoſe
we call angels, and the fouls of men. Hence,
by a very natural transition, the fpirit of
man
{
3
and INSPIRATION.
407
1
man is uſed to denote the temper and dif
pofition by which all one's actions, and
the whole conduct of life, are regulated and
directed; the inward fentiment, the ſpring
and director of them all; and very often
is applied to the gofpel, in oppofition to
the letter of Mofes's law, as that which
gives it all its worth and value, and where-
in its life and power confifts.
Could we attain any fatisfying notion of
that kind of beings which merit the name
of fpirits, we would be at no lofs to fee
the reafon of the apparently different ap-
plications of that term to fubjects fo great-
ly different. Philofophers, and philofo-
phical divines, have laboured, with great
earneftneſs, to make out what they call
the idea of a ſpirit: and, to fay the thing
as it is, they might with as much proſpect
of fuccefs have attempted to make an i-
mage of it.
of it. Several have flattered them-
felves, that they had as diftinct, and ſome
fay even more diftinct, ideas of fpirit,
than we have of matter: but when they
come to explain themſelves, it amounts to
no more than that we have no idea of ei-
ther, but only of fome properties and
powers belonging to them, by which the
unknown
408
Eff. 21.
The SPIRIT,
unknown ſubſtances are diftinguiſhed from
one-another. How far thefe refinings are
confiftent with the common fenfe and ex-
perience of the world, I do not determine:
but this I muſt fay, that thefe fubtile me-
taphyfics have made no manner of ad-
dition to uſeful knowledge; but, on the
contrary, have opened up a fund of ſcep-
ticiſm, of which we have no way to relieve
ourfelves, but by returning to common
fenfe, and what lies within the compafs of
experience and obfervation.
Before any of thoſe cant terms which
learned foppery has introduced, were
known, the world was, and the bulk of
mankind, which never heard of them,
ftill are, poſſeſſed of a diſtinction be-
tween matter and fpirit, which anſwers
all the purpoſes of life every jot as well;
and fo much better, as, being founded on
plain obfervation, it is equally intelligi-
ble to the learned and unlearned. Thofe
parts of the univerfe which are perceived
to be dead and inactive, incapable of fo
much as moving themſelves, they call mat-
ter; and whatever poffeffeth, or appears
to poffefs, active powers, a capacity of
moving themſelves, or putting other things
in
and INSPIRATION.
409
in motion, or, in other words, a capacity
of producing thought or motion, is cal-
led Spirit. And I ſtrongly ſuſpect, all the
learned labours of philofophers put toge-
ther, will never, at leaſt in this world, be
able to carry it farther.
In this view, it will eafily appear how
the term Spirit is very properly uſed in
all the above cafes: And the precife appli-
cation of it (when it denotes a particular
kind of being, and when it is defigned to
expreſs the executive and active powers of
any agent) will not be found hard to be
adjuſted by an honeſt unbiaſſed mind. In
the prefent cafe, it will not be difficult to
diſcover when the principal agent is meant,
and when the under-agent, or inſtrument
by which the effect is produced, is to be
underſtood by that term. The fountain
and fulneſs of life lies in God: It is con-
veyed through Jefus Chrift, by whom all
things were and are created: The grant
lies in the gospel, the only way we come
either to the knowledge, or title to the poſ-
feffion, of it: but it is the Spirit, promif-
cuouſly called the Spirit of God and of
Chriſt, which makes the conveyance effec-
tual, or rather in which the life of our
fpirits lies.
VOL.I.
3 F
That
410
Eff. 21.
The SPIRIT,
That the fpiritual or Chriftian life lies
in the abiding and indwelling of this fame
promiſed Spirit, may not, nor can be refu-
fed by any who acknowledge the New-
Teftament writings. All true Chriftians
are born of this Spirit; and by being thus
born, our Lord fays they are fpirit. And
furely that which is born of the Spirit muft
be different from the Spirit of which it is
born; and therefore this Spirit muſt be an
agent as different from that divine ſtate
and temper of mind by which the new
creature is diſtinguiſhed from the old, as
the cauſe is from the effect.
It is the fame Spirit which was given to
dwell in the man Jefus, and by being gi-
ven without meaſure, diſtinguiſhed him
from, and exalted him infinitely above, all
the reſt of mankind; the fame Spirit which
he promiſed to ſend upon his diſciples when
he was about to leave them, and which
fhould fupply his abfence greatly more to
their advantage than his fenfible preſence;
that Spirit which fhould lead them into
all truth, bring all things to their remem-
brance, take his things, (and all that the
Father has, he ſays, is his), and fhew them
to
and INSPIRATION.
4II
to them, ſhould help all their infirmities,
and be an abfolute and complete Comforter
to them.
By the image that is given us of this
new birth in the firſt natural one, and the
analogy or reſemblance held forth to us in
that expreffion, we are naturally led to
conceive, that this Spirit of life anfwers.
the fame purpoſe in the pure ſpiritual life,
that the breath of life does in the imper-
fect animal one, viz. that by this there is
eſtabliſhed a connection with, and de-
pendence on, the ſpiritual ſyſtem, for fpiri-
tual ſubſiſtence and life, even as we are con-
nected with the material one by the air we
breathe in, and without which we can by
no means fubfift. And further, as this air
in which we breathe, is not fo properly
an effect, as the very ſubſtance of the ma-
terial fyftem; fo muft this Spirit be in the
fpiritual one; that is, in the very Spirit
of God in Jefus Chrift, we live, move,
and have our being; which cannot be at
all conceived or apprehended, but by a
Trinity in the Divine Unity, which we
have defigned and diftinguished by the
names of Father, the Word or Son, and E-
ternal Spirit, the fame divine fubftance in
3 F 2
all,
412
Eff. 21.
The SPIRIT,
all, diſtinguiſhed in a manner far above
human, and very probably above all crea-
ted apprehenfion, fubfifting and acting in
and by one another.
How this fame Spirit is conveyed and
communicated by Jefus Chriſt to his dif-
ciples and followers, we can no more ap-
prehend, than how he made the world,
and breathed the breath or ſpirit of life
into the firſt man. We can obferve what
is done, the effects and confequences of
this unspeakable gift; and that is enough
for us.
We are told by our Lord himſelf,
who perfectly underſtood the affair,
"that
66
as the living Father fent him, and he
"lives by the Father; fo all that have
"heard and learned of the Father, and
66
come to him, fhall live by him;" that
by this one Spirit they are united to him
in the neareſt and moſt intimate manner,
and are one. fpirit with him; that his life
is communicated to them fo really, and
without any figure, that in ſtrict propriety
of ſpeech, it is not they, but Chrift who
lives in them: he is their life, and with
him that life is hid with God; and be-
cauſe he lives, they fhall live alſo.
The native confequence of this convey-
ance
and INSPIRATION.
413
ance of the Spirit of life, and of the new
life thus communicated to them, is a new
way of living: for they who have the Spi-
rit and life of Chriſt, live in this Spirit, and
walk in this Spirit; that is, they follow Jefus,
they live and walk as he did; for if there
is the fame ſpirit, there muſt be the fame
mind, to ſee things in the fame light, and
accordingly to form the fame judgement
of them, and confequently to eſteem and
deſpiſe, to love and hate, juſt as he did.
This is the new heart and new fpirit, the
divine nature the Apoſtle fays they are made
partakers of the law of love is written
in their heart; and the Apoſtle John af-
fures us,
"that he that dwelleth in love,
"dwelleth in God, and God in him; for
"God is love."
66
The wife men of the world will fay, as
Nicodemus did, How can theſe things
"be?" It muſt be fo; for the Apoſtle has
told us,
"That the natural man," one who
is merely a child of Adam, "receiveth not
"the things of the Spirit of God; neither
66
can he know them, becauſe they are
"fpiritually difcerned." And indeed the
very nature of the thing declares it. The
way of the Spirit cannot be known but
by feeling the powerful effects of it. And
thefe
414
Eff. 21.
The SPIRIT,
5
thefe none can either feel or perceive, but
fuch as are alive; as they, and they only,
are who believe. They have the witneſs
in themſelves, but cannot fhow it to thofe
who want the fpiritual difcerning, any
more than one who has the moſt perfect
ufe of his eyes can fhow the light of the
fun to a blind man. In both cafes, it is
only by doing what the other cannot, that
they can make them believe there is any
fuch thing. In many inftances, the old
prophets fhowed the Spirit and power of
the true God; but never did the Spirit ap-
pear fo illuftriouſly as in his defcent upon
the diſciples after their maſter's afcenfion.
By what was then done upon them, we
fee what the Spirit can do, and need have
no doubt of his anfwering every purpoſe
he is promiſed for.
I hinted before the purpoſes on which
our Lord promiſed to his difciples to fend
the Holy Spirit the Comforter: the fum
of the whole is, That he fhould teach
´" them all things."
66
None will be fo foolifh as to imagine,
that the promiſe imported their being made
omnifcient, any more than the Spirit's be-
ing promiſed to "lead them unto all truth"
did. There are many things which it is
impoffible
and INSPIRATION.
415
;
impoffible for man, or any creature, to
know; many more which he has no oc-
cafion for the knowledge of; and many
which it might be hurtful to him to know
as indeed all ufelefs knowledge muſt be
hurtful, as it diverts the attention from
minding and improving what is moſt
neceffary. But this we may be very fure
of, that the gift of the Spirit carries in it
all that we need: and how the Spirit, or,
which in this cafe is the fame thing, how
the almighty power of the creator, effects
this, is none of our buſineſs to know, nor
could the knowledge of it anfwer any good
purpoſe to any of mankind.
But vain man will be wife and if we
will needs be diving into a fecret which
none but God is capable of underſtanding,
it would be proper to begin fomewhat
lower, and, we may fay, nearer home.
How came we to be provided with the per-
ceptive powers we find ourſelves in pof-
feffion of, and every particular fenfe fo
exactly fuited to its object? It will be ſaid,
all this was adjuſted by the perfect wif-
dom and underſtanding of the creator. But
it is evident this is no anfwer to the que-
tion, and that we are ſtill left entirely in
the
416
Eff. 21.
The SPIRIT,
1
the dark how the thing was effected by this
fame divine wiſdom and almighty power.
If we look further into ourfelves, the
ftate and furniture of our minds, and
what we call mental powers, which go by the
general name of reafon and underſtanding, it
will readily be allowed by all who acknow-
ledge a creator, that all this is his work.
But the profoundeſt philoſopher has never
been able to ſay how it is done, any fur-
ther than Mofes has told us, that he
breathed or inſpired into man the breath
or fpirit of life: and, I believe, it is from
this that infpiration is become a common
word in all or moft languages, and the
only term they have for expreffing the di-
vine communications of peculiar gifts to
men. It is, I believe, commonly reſtrict-
ed to the revelation of the divine mind and
will; but then we have no other word left
for the conveyance of life, and all the
powers of life. But, however we apply the
term, we can make no more of it, than
that there is fomething done by the crea-
tor which we call by that name, and
which produces real and fenfible effects;
and when it is thus underſtood, it will ap-
pear to be no fuch extraordinary thing as
it
and INSPIRATION.
417
nd that,
it is commonly thought to be;
indeed, every man who has a ſpirit in
him, is really more or leſs inſpired.
Thoſe writers who underſtood the affair
beſt, being themſelves infpired in what is
thought to be the higheſt fenfe, exprefs
it by God's giving another fpirit, and the
Spirit of God coming upon one, and con-
veying fuch peculiar gifts, or making fuch
improvements or alterations as he fees pro-
per: and they extend it far; to mechani-
cal ſkill, as in the caſe of Bezaliel and Aho-
liab; to wiſdom and underſtanding, as in
Solomon and others. He gave Saul another
fpirit; his ſpirit was taken from him, and
an evil ſpirit from the Lord troubled him.
The different meaſures of this gift are to
be ſeen in the ordinary and extraordinary
prophets under the old difpenfation; and
by the whole hiftory, it appears, that the
ſpirit of man is abfolutely in the creator's
hand, to give or take away what gifts and
endowments he pleaſes; that is, to give or
with-hold his Spirit.
But never was this matter fet in fo
clear a light as in the cafe of the tw lve
difciples of Jefus. That there might be
no room left for the flighteſt furm:fes, and
VOL. I.
3 G
that
418
Eff. 21.
The SPIRIT,
that all men might fee that the whole was an
effect of immediate divine power, he chofe
his difciples out of the loweſt and moſt
contemptible clafs which was to be found in
that nation, which was very far from be-
ing refpectable in the eye of the world:
the moſt noted of them were poor illite-
rate fiſhermen of Galilee. During the
time of their maſter's continuance with
them on earth, they had fuch a meaſure of
the Spirit as raifed them not only greatly
above what they formerly were, but even
above the wifeſt and moſt learned men of
that nation; and the mafters of Ifrael, with-
out doubt, knew more of God than all the
world befides. But, to the time of their
maſter's refurrection, and afcenfion to hea-
ven, they continued under fo much weak-
nefs and ignorance of the moſt neceffary
truths, that after all the pains he had ta-
ken in teaching and inftructing them,
they could not believe his refurrection, un-
til they were forced to it by fenfible evi-
dence.
But when the promiſe he had made
them came to be fulfilled on the day of
Pentecoft, then it appeared to what afto-
niſhing height, and how near perfection,
the
and INSPIRATION.
419
the Spirit could raiſe the loweſt of mankind.
The gift of tongues was the most obvious.
and ſtriking effect, becauſe it was utter-
ly inconceiveable how ignorant unlearned
men could in a moment acquire the un-
derſtanding of all languages then in being.
The power that was given them of heal-
ing diſeaſes without any fenfible means,
was not to be accounted for but by the
power of God being prefent with them.
But what was leaft obvious to fenfe, was
by far the greateſt miracle; the aftoniſhing
meaſures of knowledge and underſtanding
in the moſt fecret myfteries of the kingdom
of God; and, what is yet more, the forming
their hearts, their fentiments, affections,
and paffions, upon theſe views; ſo that the
world, with all its allurements and terrors,
was treated with the utmoſt contempt, and
could not make the leaft impreffion on
their refolution and behaviour. The A-
poſtle fays it ſtrongly; the world was cru-
cified, made a dead thing, to them, and
they were dead to the world.
This aftoniſhing fact, in all the circum-
ſtances and confequences of it, ftands fo
diſtinctly recorded, that we need not enter
upon particulars; and is fo fully atteſted,
3 G 2
that
420
Eff. 21.
The SPIRIT,
3
that we cannot avoid believing it, without
refolving to believe nothing. It may perhaps
be faid, This was an extraordinary cafe, for
anſwering an extraordinary occaſion; but
what is that to ordinary Chriftians in or-
dinary cafes? The meaſure of that infpi-
ration, or effuſion of the Spirit, was indeed
extraordinary, and attended with fenfible cir-
cumftances fuited to the occafion; but the
gift itſelf was by no means confined to the
apoflles in the truth and reality of it. So far
from it, that all who believed in Chrift had
the Holy Spirit given, even in a fenfible man-
ner, by the laying on of the hands of the
apoftles; infomuch that the Apoſtle fays
exprefsly," If any man have not the Spirit
66
of Chrift, he is none of his." This we
find taken for granted in all the apoftoli-
cal writings; infomuch that the gofpel
they preached is called the miniftration of
the Spirit; and unto this fame Spirit we
find all the fruits and effects of the gospel
attributed. And that we may not imagine
this was only a temporary difpenfation, the
whole ftands on the indifpenfable promiſe
of giving a new heart, and a new ſpirit,
and writing God's law there, the fubftance
of that covenant or grant of which Chriſt
is
7
and INSPIRATION.
421
is the mediator and furety. And ſo late as
the time when the Apoſtle John wrote his
epiftles, it was the common privilege of
Chriftians to have an unction or anointing
from the Holy One, by which they were
taught all things; and fo effential to Chri-
ftianity, that no man could fay Jefus was
the Lord, but by this Spirit.
By this we may be directed what to
think of the commonly-received maxim,
that ſince the finiſhing the New-Teſtament
writings, infpiration has ceafed; and all
pretenfions to it are branded with the odious
title of enthufiafm; a cant word, which has no
determined meaning as now uſed; and in
the language from which it is taken, was
deemed to be the fame with infpiration, or
being actuated by a Divine Spirit. If the
meaning of the maxim is only, that there
is no revelation of new truths, or terms of
acceptance with God, which are not con-
tained in thefe writings, it is certainly
true. But whether the impreffing theſe
truths on the minds and confciences of
men, and forming their hearts and fenti-
ments upon them, is not as real infpira-
tion, as the original revelation to thoſe
who
422
Eff. 21.
The SPIRIT,
who thus delivered them down to us, is
another queſtion, or rather ought not to
be queftioned or doubted: and indeed
there never was, nor ever will be, a real
Chriſtian, who is not as really inſpired with
the truths of the gofpel as the apoſtles
themſelves were, and by the fame Spirit
too, though in a different manner and de-
gree, which accordingly produces the fame
effects proportionally.
It may perhaps contribute fomething
towards our forming fome conception of
this truly myſterious affair, which, in it-
felf, is, and muſt be, abfolutely incom-
prehenfible, if we confider attentively the
feveral cafes recorded in the hiftory of the
gofpel, of perfons poffeffed by other fpi-
rits, evil ones, or devils. We are plainly
enough told, that theſe unhappy creatures,
though most of them had intervals, when
they might be faid to be themſelves, yet
were under the power of thefe fpirits, to
act in them and by them; that it was not
fo properly they who acted, as the ſpirit
that poffeffed them. One damfel we find
was poffeffed with a fpirit of divination;
and as many of thefe demoniacs were endued
with bodily ftrength and force greatly above
human,
and INSPIRATION.
423
human, in her we have a fpecimen of as
unnatural ſtrength of mind. Jeſus and his
diſciples fignalized themſelves by diflodging
thefe ufurping demons, and thereby fhow-
ing their fuperiority and abfolute autho-
rity over them; which leaves no room to
doubt, that his Spirit can poffefs the bodies,
and eſpecially the fpirits of mankind, in
as abfolute a manner, as to make them act,
and even think, as he pleaſes.
The belief of this was fo ftrong a-
mong all the Heathen nations, that on
it the whole bufinefs of oracles was
founded; which made fo much noife a-
mong the Greeks and Romans, that it
would have been deemed blafphemy to
deny, and great profaneneſs even to doubt
of the divine infpiration of the minifters
of the gods, as they were reckoned on
thefe occafions; and who, on this account,
had the name of enthuſiaſts, as being under
a divine enthufiafin or poffeffion. Nay,
the wifeft of them carried it yet further,
even into common life, and appear to have
been fully perfuaded, that no great or ex-
traordinary action was ever either under-
taken or accomplished, without fome de-
gree of this enthuſiaſm.
Our
424
Eff. 21.
The SPIRIT,
Our wifer moderns, being loath, as it
would feem, to be fo much indebted to
God, as deliverance from the ſpirit which
the Apoſtle fays works effectually in the
children of difobedience, and leads them
captive at his will, would make them,
have found a way of explaining all the ef-
fects of ſpirits, whether good or bad, on
mankind, by a fyftem merely mechanical.
Theſe effects, by tacking a new ſenſe to
the old word, they call by the difgraceful
term of enthufiafm; and for all who have
any regard to the influence of fpirits, good
or bad, they have coined two other terms
of difgrace, to which no mortal can af-
fix a meaning, viz. Fanatics, and Myftics.
Feftus dealt more honeftly with the A-
poſtle Paul: he thought him mad, and
told him fo; but in the gentleft manner
that fuch an imputation could be convey-
ed, "Paul, thou art befide thyfelf: much
learning doth make thee mad." In the
prefent ftate of human nature, no man
can be quite fecure againſt miſtakes,
even where the conflitution is beft and
foundeſt. But the fmalleſt diſorder in the
animal fyflem affects the intellectual and
rational powers; and when carried to a
66
certain
and INSPIRATION.
425
1
certain height, entirely perverts and over-
turns them. This we call madneſs. But
there are as many different degrees of it,
as there are of bodily diſorders which oc-
cafion it: and fomething there muſt be of
this kind where-ever men are very confi-
dent and warm, without proper evidence
and rational grounds. But however that
may be the cafe of fuch as are under the
influence of evil fpirits, which perhaps is
more common than any of us are aware
of; yet it neither does, nor can be the cafe,
of thoſe who are poffeffed by the Spirit of
God, and under the divine influence and
leading. Every ſtep in their way is laid out
by perfect wisdom, and of courſe ſupport-
ed by the trueft and moft perfect reaſon.
Every deviation from it is a piece of folly;
and the further they recede, the nearer
they approach to the height of madneſs.
And when Perfect Wiſdom condeſcends to
take the leading and guiding of fuch as
cannot guide themſelves, what name ſhall
we give to thoſe who will not follow?
But, fay the wife men of the world, if
men are thus poffeffed and actuated by the
Spirit, what becomes of human liberty?
and if that is gone, there can be no fuch
VOL. I.
3 H
thing
426
Eff. 21.
The SPIRIT,
thing as moral virtue; no human actions.
either juſtly rewardable or puniſhable,
and the whole fyftem of righteous moral
government is fubverted or deſtroyed.
I have no mind to enter into the intri-
cacies of the difputes that have been rai-
fed on the fubject of human liberty,
which, if ever that affair comes to be
well underſtood, I am fatisfied the diffe-
rence of the feveral contending parties
will be found to lie more in words and
terms than in the thing itſelf. All are a-
greed, that men, the freeft of them, are
neceffarily determined by what appears
the ſtrongeſt motive; that is, fuch as
makes the ſtrongeſt impreffion on the mind
of the agent, or, which is the fame thing,
excites the ſtrongeſt affections and paffions,
the immediate makers or determiners of
what is called the will, and perhaps that
very thing itſelf. Could any agent be ſup-
pofed fo perfect as never to be miſtaken or
miſled by falſe appearances, every motive
would have its juſt weight, neither more
nor lefs; and the whole conduct of fuch
an agent would be perfectly regular, and
fuch as it ought to be: and if that is not
moral virtue, I know not what is. By
what
and INSPIRATION.
427
what means the creature comes to be thus
enlightened or determined, can make no
alteration in the nature, of his actions.
When all is faid that can be faid for gi-
ving the creature the honour of being ma-
fter of his own actions, when it comes to
be traced to its rife and original, it will
appear, that it is "by the grace of God that
"6
we are what we are." Thoſe who are pof-
feffed and led by the Spirit of God, are no
more treated like ſtocks or ſtones, than the
wifeſt philofopher treats himself; only
with this advantage, that they are more
directly taught of God, and better fecured
againſt being impofed on by falſe appear-
ances, and of courſe more ſteadily and
strictly virtuous.
On this view, and that which the gofpel
of Chrift gives, it is of no moment whe-
ther human actions are rewardable or not.
That is an extrinſical circumftance, which
does not alter the nature of the actions as
they are in themſelves, and abſtracting
from the motives on which they proceed.
He muſt know very little of himſelf, I
may fay nothing, who imagines that he
can ever requite his creator for the be-
nefits he has received; and with what
3 H 2
face
428
Eff. 21.
The SPIRIT,
face then can he expect to be rewarded, e-
ven on the impoffible fuppofition of his
having done all that he ought to have
done? The plan of moral government is
no other than a plan of man's contriving,
under the influence of a fpirit which cer-
tainly is not of God, by this fure token,
that it lies directly contrary to his decla-
red mind. By the free gift he has made
of eternal life in his ever-bleffed Son, he
has given all the reward man is capable
of receiving; and they who do not treat
him as a liar, but believe his faithful
word, receive the earneſt of the Spirit,
the principle of this life: and thoſe who
will not have it by gift, unleſs they can
have the honour of deferving it, will in
the end find themſelves puniſhed as ſuch
infolence deferves; and that we are well
affured is everlaſting deftruction from the
prefence of the Lord, and the glory of his
power; the natural iffue of moral govern-
ment, and the meaſures of juſtice. But it
is the happineſs of thoſe who are led by
the Spirit to live, (as every creature ſhould
do), by the free fovereign grace of the
creator, that they are under no fuch law;
"Sin fhall not have dominion over them;
66 for
and INSPIRATION.
429
$6
% 6
for they are not under law, but under
grace."
22. Heaven; or, The World of Spirits.
W
Hen men attempt to fpeak upon
fubjects they do not underſtand,
it would be ſtrange if they did not ftum-
ble into abfurdities. There is nothing
more real than the exiſtence of fpirits, and
of courſe what may very properly be called
the world of Spirits, in contradiſtinction to
this material one which we inhabit. But as
we have no powers capable of perceiving
fpirits, and indeed can know nothing of
them but what we can obſerve about our-
felves, or thoſe we have acceſs to converfe
with, we can form no notion of them, nor
their way of fubfifting and acting, but by
an analogy with our world; an analogy fo
remote, and which needs fo much adjuſt-
ing, that it is the hardeſt thing in the
world to avoid miftakes, and even abfur-
dities of the groſſeſt kind; and would have
been abfolutely impoffible, had it not been
for the condefcenfion our creator has
shown in the information he has given us
of
430
Eff. 22.
HEAVEN; or,
A
of what he alone perfectly knows; and he
has given us as much as we need to know,
and, one may fay, as much as we are ca-
pable of in our preſent ſtate.
any
of
When we have purſued our ſearch into
the nature of thoſe beings we call Spirits,
our knowledge of them will be found to
confiſt almoſt wholly of negatives; that
they are not matter, nor capable of
thoſe properties that belong to matter.
This has been carried fo far, as becauſe
matter cannot fubfift but in fome place,
or without occupying a certain quantity
of what is called Space, fome very acute
philofophers have thought, that fpirits,
which cannot occupy space as bodies do,
could not be faid to be any where: and
much unintelligible reafoning has been
employed on each fide, to prove, or dif-
prove, what no mortal can poſſibly form
any diftinct conception of. The moſt we
can make of it is, to conclude, that fpirits
are fubfifting where they act, and produce
their effects.
That the human fpirit, which we call
the foul of man, ſubſiſts and acts in and by
the body, is hardly poffible for any one to
doubt. But how it fubfifts, and how it
acts
The world of SPIRITS.
431
acts there, the moſt learned philofopher
knows no more than the meaneft peaſant.
No wonder then that we know nothing of
fuch created fpirits as we neither have nor
can have any fenfible or perceptible corre-
ſpondence with. We have got two words
in our language to diftinguiſh the diffe-
rent abodes of good and bad ſpirits, viz.
Heaven and Hell. Both are defcribed in
the facred record, fo far as we are capable
of apprehending them. But a deſcription
where the terms are not understood, could
make us never a jot wifer; and therefore
the indulgent author has ſhadowed it out
under fuch images as we are beſt acquaint-
ed with; heaven, as a ſtate of perfect hap-
pinefs and pleaſure; and hell, as the ex-
tremity of miſery and torment: and when
we are affured of this, it is a matter of no
moment in what determinate place thofe
who are thus happy or miferable have
their refidence allotted them. The only
purpoſe an inquiry of this nature could
anſwer is, to avoid, if poffible, erroneous
or falfe conclufions, which may fill the
mind with fuch prejudices as may in ſome
cafes have a very pernicious tendency.
Heaven
432
Eff. 22.
HEAVEN; or,
Heaven and hell being directly oppofite
with reſpect to the inhabitants, it ſeems
reaſonable to conclude, that they fhould
likewiſe be oppofite with reſpect to ſitua-
tion. But as it is impoffible to know what
will be the ſtate of the eternal ſyſtem when
the preſent one fhall pafs away, and all
things, even heaven and earth, be made
new; our inquiries and decifions on the
prefent ſtate of the world of fpirits, even
though juſt, would anſwer no purpoſe be-
yond a prefent world, and the ſtate of
things as they now are; but may be of great
ufe to prevent miſtakes, and being impofed
on by falſe appearances, and the undue in-
fluence of this outward fenfible world; to
which our preſent conftitution is fo much
fitted, and on which we have fuch an im-
mediate dependence, that it is no wonder
numbers of mankind look no further.
But thoſe who know any thing of God
the creator, muſt know, that this material
ſyſtem is but an under-agent, or rather
the inftrument which he employs in ex-
erting his power for the fupport of his
creatures; and where-ever he directly and
immediately exerts that power to the fenfe
and
The world of SPIRITS.
433
and obfervation of the creature, there is
heaven, in the common fenfe of that term:
and if there is any particular place where
he does it more than another, that we
naturally imagine is his peculiar re-
fidence and dwelling-place. But when
he fills heaven and earth, what fhall we
pitch on for the place of his throne? as it
is, I believe, commonly enough imagined,
he fome where or other keeps his court
with all his angels, his minifters, and fer-
vants about him, like the kings of this
world, from whom this image appears to
have taken its rife.
When he is faid to fill heaven and earth,
it is evident enough, that heaven muſt be
the fame which Mofes in the hiftory of
the creation tells us God then called by that
name; that immenfe invifible fluid, &c. in
which this earth, and all other viſible bo-
dies, are contained. The original name in
that language fignifies both place and pla-
cers, an expanfion which places and keeps
in their proper place all things in that or-
der the wife architect ordained them, to
ſtand ſo long as this fyftem fhould conti-
nue. And if this is the heavens where
God is faid to dwell, and to have his
3 I
throne,
VOL.I.
434
Eff. 22.
HEAVEN; or,
throne, it would follow, that heaven is
not ſo very remote, as that there ſhould
need an immenſely long journey to arrive
at it; nay, that we are locally there al-
ready, where God dwells; but want the
neceffary organs and perceptive powers for
making the proper advantages of our fi-
tuation, and living as perfect fpirits do.
But this has been thought a depretia-
ting the Divine Majefty, who is faid to
dwell on high; and accordingly we find
thoſe who knew beft how to addrefs him,
always looked upward, and lifted up their
eyes toward heaven. The Apoſtle Paul ſpeaks
of the third heavens as the place where thè
Deity peculiarly refides in all the glory of his
majeſty and when Jefus was fet down on
the right hand of the Father, he is faid to
be exalted far above all the heavens.
From theſe, and fuch like expreffions,
many having imagined fomething like the
lower, fecond, and third ftories, in our
buildings, confider the grofs atmoſphere,
which is ftretched above this earth, as the
loweft, or firft heaven: the boundaries of
the ſecond are not eaſily adjuſted, but are
generally thought to reach to the fixed
ftars and fome unknown place beyond
thefe; they call the third. Whether it
was
The world of SPIRITS.
435
was on this view they were induced to
it, I cannot fay; but fome have been
very poſitive, that the refidence of the
Divine Majefty is without the bounds
of this material fyftem, and make it the
diſtinguiſhing property of that immenſe
being to act at any diſtance where he is
not prefent; the only falvo that could pre-
ferve this opinion from the imputation of
removing God out of the world, common-
ly called Atheiſm.
But however that may be, and what-
ever extramundane ſpace may be pitched
on for this purpofe, certain it is, that this
cannot be what the creator himfelf called
heaven. It is not conceivable how the
fame name ſhould be employed in the ſame
record to fignify another thing, which has
no relation to what he called fo, and there-
by taught us to call fo. They may feem
to come nearer the truth who make theſe
material heavens an image and ſenſible ex-
hibition of the ſpiritual, and this laft the
proper refidence of God, who is a fpirit,
and the father of fpirits. But neither doth
this mend the matter much; for thefe
fame ſpiritual heavens muſt either be in
the fame place with the material ones, or
3 I 2
beyond
436
Eff. 22.
HEAVEN; or,
1
1
beyond the utmoſt verge of them; that is,
no mortal knows where. And the more
narrowly circumftances are laid together,
and confidered, the greater will the ab-
furdity appear, of attempting to adjuſt
the immenfity of that being who poffeffes
all the fulness of being fo effentially, that
where-ever any thing exiſts, there he muſt
be,
This confideration, I believe, is what
has determined the moſt confiderate to al-
low the immenſity of the divine preſence,
as well as his being. But ftill they think
themſelves bound to diſtinguiſh between
that and his manifeftative or glorious pre-
fence: and there is fome reaſon for the dif
tinction; for we find himſelf often fpeak-
ing of hiding and of manifefting him-
felf and his glory: and, in fact, we find,
that the most part of mankind are ſo far
from beholding his glory, that they do not
at all perceive his prefence. But whether
this may not be more owing to their want
of proper faculties and perceptive powers,
than to diſtance of any kind, fhould be
carefully confidered. The fun fhines e-
qually through every part of the ſyſtem;
but blind men perceive no more of the
glory
The world of SPIRITS.
437
1
1
glory of his light, than if there was.
none.
But however this may be, we are fure
he is not far from every one of us; and
where-ever he is, there his glory certainly
is, whether it is perceived or not by the
creature. It may be of uſe to confider
what we often meet with in the books of
Mofes, the glory of the Lord appearing
in what our tranflators call a pillar of fire,
or light, and cloud, the fubftance of the
material heavens, exhibited in that fenfible
form; and which demonſtrated, that he was
the fame who inhabited and dwelt in them
as their proprietor and lord. We are told
likewiſe in the hiftory of the prophets, of
the heavens being opened, and their ſeeing
vifions of God. None fure will be fo fool-
iſh as to imagine, that this was like opening
the door of a houfe, or particular apart-
ment, that one may fee what is within.
The cafe of Stephen explains it: He faw
heaven opened, and Jeſus ſtanding at the
right hand of God. He was not as the
old prophets; or even as Paul when he was
wrapt up to the third heaven, but could
not fay whether it was in the body, or
out of the body: Stephen was flanding
before
438
Eff. 22.
HEAVEN; or,
before the Jewiſh council, and did no more
but look ftedfaftly up to heaven. Some-
thing of the fame kind happened to the
Apoſtle Paul at his converfion: Jefus ap-
peared to him in a light far exceeding the
light of the fun, which might very pro-
perly be called an opening of the heavens;
the light of his glory, who dwells in light
inacceffible, breaking through the more
grofs and dark parts of that fluid or ex-
panſion, which we are taught to call the
heavens. And it is likely enough, that
when John Baptift faw the heavens open-
ed, and the Spirit of God defcending on
Jefus at his baptifin, that it was fomething
of the fame kind.
1
This perhaps might be improved, to
lead us into a jufter and more confiftent
notion of the third heavens the Apoſtle
Paul ſpeaks of; viz. That they are not
like the ftories in Noah's ark, lower,
fecond, and higheft, in point of place;
but the different conftitution, if we
may call it fo, of the heavens, fuited to
the different conftitutions of the feveral
orders of creatures which have their refi-
dence and abode in that immenfe expan-
fion. There can be little doubt that this
grofs atmoſphere in which we live and
breathe,
The world of SPIRITS.
439
:
breathe, is the loweſt. We may eaſily con-
ceive the difference there is between this,
and that part of the fluid, which is free
from the grofs fteams and exhalations of
this earth, or fuch bodies as are of the
fame kind, where there is nothing but
light and air and as conceivable a differ-
ence there muſt be between even that, and
pure light, without any mixture of the groff-
er particles of air. We need not amuſe our-
felves with gueffing where this laſt is to be
found in the material fyftem. It may be
fufficient to ſay, that this is the only part
of the fyftem which he "who is light, and
66
in whom is no darknefs at all," chufes
to refide immediately in, and by which he
manages every part of it, produces every
thing that is produced, and all the chan-
ges and alterations which are made
throughout the fyftem, to the utmoſt ex-
tent of it. It might be thought extrava-
gant to imagine, that there are different
orders and ranks of fpirits above us: and
that as there are many different fpecies
of animals below us, every one of them
placed in their proper element and way
of living, fuited to their conftitution;
in the fame manner, thoſe beings which
are above us fhould have their pro-
per
440
Eff. 23.
The WAY to
per place and ſtation fuiting the purpo-
fes they are defigned for. But as the know-
ledge of theſe things, even if it could be
attained, could anfwer little or no purpoſe
to us in our preſent ſtate; it would be but
idle for us to amufe ourſelves with gueff-
ing about it, when we have more bufinefs
of moment upon our hands than our ſhort
lives can ſerve to accompliſh.
23. The Way to Eternal Life.
Matth. xix. 16.—21.
T was a true teftimony that was given
I
by the Apoſtle concerning Jefus Chrift,
on a fingular occafion, That he was a man
approved, or rather authoriſed and atteft-
ed, of God: and indeed he was fo in the
fulleft and ſtrongeſt manner that can be i-
magined. And when the whole evidence
was completed and laid together, he was
declared, manifefted, to be the Son of
God, with fuch power, that it is not con-
ceivable how it could be refifted by any ra-
tional being.
This character prefents him unto us, not
only as a teacher fent from God, and
whofe
}
گو
ETERNAL LIFE.
?
441
whofe every word was to be refpected as
a divine oracle, but as the perfect image
of the invifible Father, exhibiting at once.
the awful majefty of almighty power,
and the alluring fweetnefs of fovereign
grace, love, and kindnefs. His hiftory
therefore muſt merit our utmoſt attention:
for in every particular of his behaviour,
we are inſtructed in what we may expect
from God in parallel circumſtances; and
there are very few cafes we can be in, if
any at all, to which we may not find
fomething parallel in the record we have
in our hands.
Among the numerous incidents of this
kind, though there may perhaps be fome
that may be thought more encouraging,
there are none more inftructive than that
before us; for it carries an authentic re-
folution of the important queftion, How
one fhall come to inherit eternal life?
The young gentleman appears to have
been very much in earneft. We are told
he came running, as one afraid of miſſing
the opportunity of being inftructed by
fuch a teacher. He applies to him with
great refpect; and gives him a title, which,
on the views he had of him, proved to be
·VOL. I.
3 K
too
442
Eff. 23.
The WAY to
1
too high; Good Mafter. Had he known
and believed him to be what he really
was, the creator and fovereign of the u-
niverſe, he had received no rebuke: but
as he had no higher notion of him than
that of a prophet or teacher ſent of God,
he was very juſtly reproved for giving him
a title belonging only to God. Some have
been thoughtleſs enough to imagine,that our
Lord here refuſes that title, as too high for
him, and thus renounces all pretenfions to
proper Deity. But he does not. He only
puts a queſtion to the man, Why he gave
him a title which could belong to none
but God? And had he known the Son of
God fo well as to be able to anfwer, that
he meant to acknowledge him as fuch, the
queſtion had never been put.
But it is the Lord's anfwer to the que-
ftion we have mainly to confider; and it
merits fo much more confideration, that
it has been improved by the admirers of
moral government, as they call it, to o-
verturn and ſet aſide the whole ſyſtem of
fovereign grace, as the Apoftle Paul has
fully declared and confirmed it, and that
with fuch plainneſs, and ſtrength of ´evi-
dence, that nothing but rooted prejudice
}
can
ETERNAL LIFE.
443
1
can either evade or refift. We may be
well affured, that our Lord, and his a-
poſtle, whom he taught and fent forth
with authority to teach and inftruct the
Gentile world, did not, nor poffibly could,
contradict one another in any point; and
leaſt of all in a matter of fuch moment:
Nor is there indeed the leaft fhadow of
inconſiſtency between them.
The manner in which the queſtion was
put, very naturally led the infallible teach-
er to give the anſwer he did. Had he
fimply aſked, How he ſhould inherit eter-
nal life? it is more than probable he would
have told him as he did his difciples,
"That he himſelf was the way, the truth,
66
66
and the life; and that no man could
come unto the Father but by him." But
the poor man, full of the fpirit of the de-
generated difciples of Mofes, had no doubt
but that the inheritance muſt be earned
by doing; and all he wanted was, a di-
rection what good thing he ſhould do to
fecure the great point he had in view.
The wife Maſter knew the man perfect-
ly, and frames his anfwer upon the prin-
ciples of perfect truth, but fo as fhould
3 K 2
effectually
444
Eff. 23.
The WAY to
effectually reach conviction to him on his
own views. The general anſwer he gives
him is a fundamental truth, "If thou wilt
enter into life, keep the command-
66
66
ments." The commandments of God,
it cannot be doubted, take in all the du-
ties he requires, or the whole mind of God,
with reſpect to the method of conveying e-
ternal life to the dead finners of mankind;
for die they muft to this world, ere they
can live to God. Life of every kind is
the creator's gift; and the moſt excellent
life muſt be the most valuable gift. It
was free to him to give it or not as he
pleaſed; and with-holding it could be no
injury even to an innocent creature. It muſt
therefore have been free to him to convey
it in what manner he pleafed; and he has
choſen to do it by his Son Jefus Chriſt. It
is then only by believing the gift that we
can know any thing of it; and acquiefcing
in the way by which he conveys it, is the
only mean by which we can come to the
enjoyment of it and hence believing the
teſtimony God has given of his Son, or
faith in Jefus Chrift, is the firſt duty, on
which all other duties depend, and become
practicable by a finner.
1
This
ETERNAL LIFE.
445
Į
This fuggefts an obfervation of very
great moment, That there never was a law
given to mankind, until the foundations of
every duty were previouſly laid in an act
of pure fovereign grace, free gifts beſtowed,
or, which is equal in this cafe, promiſed
to be bestowed in due time. We need fay
nothing of the primeval law given the
firſt parents of mankind. They had newly
received being and life, with all that could
make fuch a life eafy and comfortable.
When he gave a peculiar law to the Ifrael-
itiſh nation, he had by his almighty power,
exerted in a moft ftriking and illuftrious
manner, delivered them from a long and
grievous bondage,and was ready to put them
in poffeffion of the land he had promiſed
unto their fathers. The law given to man-
kind in general was eſtabliſhed on a great-
er gift, and infinitely better promiſes; even
the gift of eternal life, fecured in the hands
of his ever-bleffed Son, whom he promi-
fed from the beginning, and in due time
fent to be the faviour of the world. When
this foundation is overlooked and neglect-
ed, not only are the obligations and pro-
per motives to obedience fet afide, but the
only folid principles and foundation on
which
446
Eff. 23.
The WAY to
which all the duties both of religion and
morality can ſtand, are fet afide at the
fame time.
This is more than implied in the direc-
tion our Lord gave in the paffage before
us, when he concludes with bidding him
come and follow him; which he makes at
leaft as neceſſary as what he had told him
of keeping the commandments; nay, ſo
neceffary, that whatever elfe he might do,
the commandments could not be kept at
all without this. Nor is this contradicted
by what he had faid of keeping the com-
mandments. He affirms indeed, that the
commandments must be kept by every
man who propofes to enter into life; and
they muſt be kept too as the all-wife law-
giver has laid them. But by the detail he
gives here, which is wholly confined to the
fecond table of the law, it is evident he
could not mean, that every man who ob-
ferved theſe commandments fhould enter
into life. There are two general heads
under which all the particular duties are
comprehended, viz. the love of God,
and of our neighbour. He mentions
only the laft, in which he knew the
gentleman was very defective, and on
which
ETERNAL LIFE.
447
which he defigned to convict him. He
knew the love of the world was lying very
deep in his heart,
heart, though he flattered
himſelf that he had kept all theſe com-
mandments from his youth.
accordingly to the trial,
ઃઃ
thou haft, and give to
He puts him
"Go fell what
the poor, and
66 thou fhalt have treaſure in heaven: and
CC come and follow me." The poor man
could not bear the thoughts of fuch an
exchange; and went away very forrow-
ful, becauſe he could not have the hea-
venly inheritance without parting with
the earthly; nor reconcile the love of God,
and the love of a prefent world, fo as
they might dwell together in the fame
heart; which our Lord and his apoftles
affure us is abfolutely impoffible. See
Matth. vi. 24.; James iv. 4.; 1 John v. 15.
There is another text, Rev. xxii. 14.
which has been abufed to the fame un-
happy purpoſe, "Bleſſed are they that do
"his commandments, that they may have
66
right to the tree of life;" where our
tranſlation leads us to imagine, that doing
the commandments, gives a right to the
tree of life; which, we are fure, is not to
be had but by a fovereign free gift. To
rectify
J
448
Eff. 23.
The WAY to
rectify this miſtake, we need only have re-
courſe to the original. The word Eurov,
which our tranflators have rendered a
right, does not fignify a legal right, or juſt
title, but only freedom and liberty to make
uſe of any thing as our own, however we
came by it.
But the capital argument for the plan
of moral government, as they call it, and
on which all the reft depend, or any
ftrength that can be pretended in them, is
taken from what the fcriptures have in-
culcated over and over, viz, that in the
final judgement God fhall render unto e-
very man according to his works, whether
they have been good or bad. This is a pro-
pofition which no man who profeſſes any
regard either to fcripture or reafon, or even
believes a judgement to come, can poffibly
make doubt of. But if men were at
any
pains to conſider what works are good, and
what are evil, in the fight of God; and
that by works are meant, not only our
outward actions, but our words, and even
our thoughts, all which fhall be brought
into judgement; they would eaſily per-
ceive what a bold adventure it muſt be
to appear in the prefence of the all-know-
ing
}
ETERNAL LIFE:
449
ing God on this footing. The Pfalmiſt
has determined it, "that no fleſh living
66
66
could be juſtified in his fight, if he ſhould
enter into judgement with them."
But let it be obſerved, that it is no leſs
an eſſential part of the divine law, that we
ſhould believe in the name of Jeſus Chriſt,
whom God has fent, than that we ſhould
perform any the plaineft duties of morali-
ty; nay, fo effential is it, that where this
faith is not working by love, none of the
commandments of God can be kept as the
great Lawgiver has laid them. When
men then are judged according to their
works, it is not, may not be imagined,
that the capital, the damning fin, ſhould
be overlooked. For this is the rule given
by the Judge himſelf, " He that believeth,
"and is baptized, fhall be faved; but he
"that believeth not, fhall be damned."
This he has told us is the work of
"God," according to which the fentence
will pafs,
"that we believe on him whom
" he hath fent," John vi. 29.; and no o-
ther works can come into confideration,
ſo as to be ſuſtained good, but fuch as
are produced by this faith; viz. the exer-
cifes and actings of that love to God and
VOL. I.
દ
3 L
66
man,
Я
450
Eff. 23.
The WAY to, &c.
4
man, which nothing but faith in Chrift
can produce in the heart of man in his
prefent unhappy circumſtances. Accor-
dingly we are fairly told, that in Chriſt
Jefus; that is, on the plan of the divine
government as it ftands under his admini-
ſtration, nothing can avail but faith, which
worketh by love; and as this faith is not
of ourſelves, but the free gift of God; it
lands in the fame thing with the new crea-
ture, the waſhing of regeneration, and re-
newing of the Spirit, which he ſheds forth
abundantly through Jefus Chrift the Sa-
viour. This fame Saviour being the judge,
they muſt certainly be fafe who have fhel-
tered themſelves under his care.
But as
for thofe his enemies, who would not have
him to reign over them, and fcorned to
be indebted to his grace, one may eafily
foreſee what they have to expect.
1
The End of the Firft Volume.
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