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TEs OTHE |

ANALOGY OF RELIGION.
NATURAL AND REVEALED,

TO THE

CONSTITUTION AND COURSE OF NATURE,

TO WHICH ARE ADDED,

TWO BRIEF DISSE RTATIONS,

BY
JOSEPH BUTLER, LL.D,
LATE LORD BISHOP OF DU RHAM,
eo ———
WITH
TRODUCTOR Y ESS

BY THE

REV. DANIEL WILSON, A

VICAR OF ISLINGTON,

AN IN AY,

.M.

THIRD EDITION.

GLASGOW:
PRINTED FOR WILLIAM COLLINS;
WILLIAM WHYTE & C0. AND wiry

AM OLIPH ANT, EDINBU RGH ;
WwW. F

« WAKEMAN : > AND wM. CURR Y, JUN. & CO. DU BLIN;
WHITTAKER, TREAC HER, & ARNOT; HAMILTON, ADAMS, & Co.
SIMPKIN AND MARSHAL L; BALDWIN & CRADOCK ;

AND HURST, cHANoR, & co. LonDON.

MDCCCXXIX.

NARCIsg CASTARED

» Pang

 
Printed by W. Collins & Co.

Glasgow.

 

INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.

Sistor BUTLER is one of those creative geniuses,
who give a character to their times. His great work,
“ The Analogy of Religion,” has fixed the admira-
tion of all competent judges for nearly a century,
and will continue to be studied so long as the lan-
guage in which he wrote endures. The mind of a
master pervades it. The Author chose a theme in-
finitely important, and he has treated it with a
skill, a force, a novelty and talent, which haye left
little for others to do after him. He opened the
mine and exhausted it himself, A discretion which
never oversteps the line of prudence, is in him united
with a penetration which nothing can escape. There

is in his writings a vastness of idea, a reach and

generalization of reasoning, a native simplicity and

orandeur of thought, which command and fill the
mind. At the same time, his illustrations are SO
striking and familiar as to instruct as well as per-
suade. ~~ Nothing is violent, 1othing far-fetched,
nothing pushed beyond its fair limits, nothing fan-
ciful or weak : a masculine power of argument runs
through the whole. All bespeaks that repose of

 
vi

mind, that tranquillity which springs from a superior
understanding, and an intimate acquaintance with
every part of his subject. He grasps firmly his topic,
and insensibly communicates to his reader the calm-
ness and conviction which he possesses himself. He
embraces with equal case the greatest and the smallest
points connected with his argument. He often
throws out, as he goes along, some general principle
which seems to cost him no labour, and yet which
opens a whole field of contemplation before the view
of the reader.

Butler was a philosopher in the true sense of the
term. He searches for wisdom wherever he can
discern its traces. He puts forth the keenest sa-
gacity in his pursuit of his great object, and never
turns aside till he reaches, and seizes it. Patient,
silent, unobtrusive investigation was his forte. His
powers of invention were as fruitful as his judgment
was sound. Probably no book in the compass of
theology is so full of the seeds of things, to use the
expression of a kindred genius, (Lord Bacon,) as
“ The Analogy.”

He was a man raised up for the age in which he
lived. The wits and infidels of the reign of our
Second Charles, (Butler was born in the year 1692,)
had deluged the land with the most unfair, and yet
plausible writings against Christianity. A certain
fearlessness as to religion seemed to prevail. There
was a general decay of piety and zeal. Many per-
sons treated Christianity as if it were an agreed point
amongst all people of discernment, that it had been
found out to be fictitious. The method taken by
these enemies of Christianity, was to magnify and

 

vil

urge objections more or less plausible, against par-
ticular doctrines or precepts, which were represented
as forming a part of it; and which, to a thoughtless
mind, were easily made to appear extravagant, in-
credible, and irrational. They professed to admit
the Being and Attributes of the Almighty ; but
they maintained that human reason was sufficient for
the discovery and establishment of this fundamental
truth, as well as for the development of those moral
precepts, by which the conduct of life should be
regulated ; and they boldly asserted, that so many
objections and difficulties might be urged against
Christianity, as to exclude it from being admitted
as Divine, by any thoughtful and enlightened person.
These assertions Butler undertook to refute. He
was a man formed for such a task. He knew
thoroughly what he was about. He had a mind to
weigh objections, and to trace, detect, and silence
cavils. Accordingly, he came forward in all the
self-possession, and dignity, and meekness of truth,
to meet the infidel on his own ground. He takes
the admission of the unbeliever, that God is the
Creator and Ruler of the natural world, as a prin-
ciple conceded. From this point he sets forward,
and pursues a course of argument so cautious, so
solid, so forcible; and yet so diversified, so original,
So convincing ; as to carry along with him, almost jn-
sensibly, those who have once put themselves under
his guidance. His insight into the constitution and
course of nature is almost intuitive; and the application
of his knowledge is so surprisingly skilful and forci-
ble, as to silence or to satisty every fair antagonist.
He traces out every objection with a deliberation

 
see

Vill

which nothing can disturb; and shows the fallacies
from whence they spring, with a precision and acute-
ness which overwhelm and charm the reader.
Accordingly, students of all descriptions have
long united in the praise of Butler. He is amongst
the few classic authors of the first rank in modern
literature. He takes his place with Bacon, and
Pascal, and Newton, those mighty geniuses who
opened new sources of information on the most im-
portant subjects, and commanded the love and grati-
tude of mankind. If his powers were not fully
equal to those of these most extraordinary men, they
were only second to them. He was in his own line,
nearly what they were in the inventions of science,
and the adaptation of mathematics to philosophy
founded on experiment. He was of like powers of
mind, of similar calm and penetrating sagacity, of the
same patience and perseverance mn pursuit, of kin-
dred acuteness and precision in argument, of like force
and power in his conclusions. His objects were as
great, his mind as simple, his perception of truth
as distinct, his comprehension of intellect nearly as
vast, his aim as elevatad, his success as surprising.
“ The Analogy” was the work of Butlers life.
As early as the year 1713, when he was a student
of Divinity at Tewkesbury, and only twenty-one
years of age, his powers of mind were already directed
to this and kindred subjects. The sagacity and
depth of thought displayed in his letters to Dr. S.
Clarke, in that year, attracted, though sent anony-
mously, the Doctor’s particular notice, and brought
on a friendly but most acute discussion, which has
been annexed to all the subsequent editions of

 

xX
Dr. Clarke’s « Demonstration of the Being and
Attributes of God.” From the year 1718, when he
was appointed preacher at the Roll’ Chapel, to the
year 1726, when he published his Fifteen Sermons,
the subject of « The Analogy” was apparently upper-
most in his mind. This volume contained in fact
the germ of his great work. At length, in the year
1736, when he had attained the age of forty-five,
“ The Analogy” appeared, as the result of his ma-
turest reflections during a series of theological studies
of between twenty and thirty years. In all his subse-
quent writings, after his elevation to the Episcopal
Bench in 1738, till his death in 1752, the like train
of thought is observable; and even in the last of
them, his charge to the clergy of the diocess of Dur-
ham in 1751, the one commanding subject which
had occupied his life is still pursued. Thus a long
course of forty years was devoted by this suprising
man, with a depth of knowledge and a strength of
mind which were exactly suited to so great a theme,
—to the illustration of the truth of Christianity from
the course and order of God’s natural Providence.
The consequence is, nothing has ever been ad-
vanced against his main argument. The infidel has
never ventured a reply.* It has long been in every

 

 

 

* An attempt was made fifteen years after his death, to fix the
charge of superstition on Bishop Butler. It was even insinuated
that he died in the communion of the Church of Rome. These
calumnies had no foundation. They were refuted at the time by
his friend Archbishop Secker, to the satisfaction of every one.
And when the accusation and the reply to it were recorded in
Butler's Life, in the Biographia Britannica, by Dr. Kippis, Bishop
Halifax took occasion to sift the matter again to the bottom, and
published the result in his edition of The Analogy,” in 1787.
This set the questipn completely at rest. The decided opposition

A3

 
X

one’s hands; and is one of the few works which go
into the elements of every well-directed plan of edu-
cation.

It has, however, been generally admitted, that his
argument, clear and convincing as it is to a prepared
mind, is not obvious in all its parts to the young
reader, whose experience of life being small, and his
habits of reflection feeble, has not always the furni-
ture necessary for comprehending at first the thoughts
and conclusions of such a mind. The difficulty is
increased by a style not always clear and accurate.
His language, indeed, interests and delights those
who are accustomed to his manner, and seems to
have flowed from him without art or contrivance.
The familiar expressions and illustrations which con-
tinually occur, are not without their charm. Even
the colloquial turn of some of the phrases sits well
upon the author. Still, as a whole, the style is too
close, too negligent, too obscure to be suitable for
the young. It is marked with that carelessness into
which many writers of the first-rate talents fall,
when, intent only on their great theme, they pour
out their thoughts in the words which first present
themselves. More than one attempt has therefore
been made to aid the inexperienced reader, by short

 

of Bishop Butler’s sentiments to the errors and corruption of the
Church of Rome, is indeed apparent in all his writings; and it is
now not worth while, in fact it would be obviously unjust, to
enter into the details of so wretched a misrepresentation. This
subject is very properly omitted altogether in the Oxford Uni.
versity edition of 1807; nor would it have been alluded to here,
if the charge against Bishop Butler, as well as its answer, had not
been revived since, in an article of a widely circulated work, La
Bicgraphie Universelle.

 

 

X1

analyses of Butler's argument. That prefixed by
Bishop Halifax to his edition of 1787, is the most
valuable, as it is the best known. In the following
sheets a more detailed review, or summary, of the
work, is attempted, with a similar design : with what

success must be left to the judgment of the public.
It it aids in forming some

idea of the general rea-
soning of the work, it will accomplish all that was

designed. It cannot indeed, for nothing can, give a
just impression of Butler, but Butler himself, It is
not intended to supersede the mighty master, whom
it only introduces.

But besides the obscurity which is found in “ The
Analogy” by the youthful student, it has been also
remarked, that Bishop Butler's statements of Chris-
tianity itself, from whatever cause, are somewhat
restricted. The impression is cold. The consola=-
tion and life of it are absent. Whether this arises
from the nature of his argument, and the class of
opponents whom he addressed, or from the turn of
the Bishop's mind to retired and contemplative,
rather than vivid and popular, descriptions of truth:
or from something of the languor so generally com-
plained of in the Divinity of the era when he wrote,
it is not easy to say. Certain it is that there seems
some ground for the complaint. The full and exu-
berant grace and consolation of Christianity in its
particular doctrines, and its application to the heart
and life, were not, indeed, the topics of our great
author; but the references which frequently occur to
the scheme and end of revelation, would undoubtedly
have admitted of some observations on these impor-
tant points, which may now be thought wanting.

 
X11

Shall we be forgiven, if we suggest, in the proper
place, what we intend by this remark more at length?
The eminent station which Butler holds, makes it
natural that we should offer, without fear, after an
interval of nearly a century, such reflections as hon-
estly occur to us. A classic may always be com-
mented upon.

In the following pages, therefore, it will be our
design :—

I. To state the general argument which Bishop
Butler pursues in the Analogy; and to review the
principal steps of his reasoning.

II. To point out the connection of the argument
of the Analogy, with the other main branches of the
Evidences of Christianity; to notice its use and im-
portance; and to offer some remarks on Butler's
particular view of Christianity itself, and on the
adaptation of his argument to practical religion in all
its extent. Each of these divisions will necessarily
draw us into seme length.

We begin with A STATEMENT OF THE GENERAL
ARGUMENT OF THE ANALOGY.

The chief design of this great work is to answer
objections raised against Religion, Natural and Re-
vealed, and to confirm the proof of it, by considering
the analogy or likeness which that system of religion
bears to the constitution and course of the world as
ruled by God’s ordinary Providence. It compares
the known state and progress of things in the natural
world, with what religion teaches as to the moral
world; the acknowledged dispensations of Provi-
dence, with the appointments of religion; that go-
vernment of God which we actually find ourselves

 

XI1il
under here, with that government of God which re-
ligion bids us to believe and expect hereafter. And
it shows that these two schemes are in many, very
many respects alike, that they are both vast and in-
comprehensible as to their whole compass and extent
but that still they may both be traced up to the ie
general laws, and resolved into the same principles
of divine conduct. It takes for granted that there
1s an Intelligent Governor of the world, a supreme
and perfect Author of nature ; and then argues from
that part of his works and dispensations which is
known and acknowledged, to that part which is
denied or objected to; from the world of nature to
the world of revelation; from the confessed order of
Providence to the disputed appointments of Grace :
from creation to Christianity. Its proper desion i
not to prove the truth of natural and revealed sellin
oe direct evidences of miracles and 2

e Author of the Analoov ake Too
He supposes all these HC Shee Tra
al } S$ to rem

prophecies.

ain, and

remain in all their force ; and he attempts to confirm
them in the minds of considerate men
3

: ] who ma
18 Tey 3 ~ & 5 AYO : : : 2 :
we een staggered by objections and difficulties,
» taking up the objector on his own admission of
the supreme rule of the Almioli :
g 4) 2 ule of the Almighty in the world, and
Sao ing him that his objections have no real weight,
because they micht he raic 'ains v
bys oy he A the works of
ary and confessed covernmaea :
es ¥ y ; government of
gdom of nature, just as plausibly as against
the government of the same God in the kinoedom of
religion. ‘This is his Ii : I
gion. 1s 18 his line of argument. He yrea-
sons from that part of the divine proceedings which

comes under our view in the daily business of life,

 
X1V
to that larger and more comprehensive part of hg
proceedings which is beyond our view, and Ww a
religion reveals. Thus he answers and silences obs
jections. God’s ordering of the affairs of men y
his Providence is a fact known and admitted, anc
present before our eyes. Now, if it can be shown
that God’s ordering the conduct of men by the laws
and motives of religion is analogous to this, hd
liable to no more nor other objections, then we ha e
a probable argument, in the first sieties, and inde.
pendently of its direct evidences, in favour of }
truth of Christianity. Thus objections are a
factorily silenced, if not removed. = ac wi
ledgment of a perfect Creator and Ruler o :
Universe, connected with the fact that he does Sw A
and such things, acts by such and such Joven Jaw ‘s
brings about such and such effouts, attac oss
and such consequences to men’s actions, dea s wit
them in such and such a manner in the daily a
hourly appointments of his Providence, he is dy
to proceed upon in answering what is a agains
the supposed rule of the same God in re >
If men, indeed, will indulge in vain and i o Spee
culations, and form imaginary models of a universe,
and lay down plans for ruling the — ia es
which they suppose better than it is at [ase . howe
can be no arguing with them. They profess ion
selves to be wiser than God. They take up y jo
airy notions which have no foundation in fre 2 ao
is to deny the natural government of Go , W i : v hs
conceded by the hypothesis. But if men wi foe
these presumptuous conjectures, and come to ho
—to the constitution of nature, as it is actually

 

against the course and constitution o

. 4%

made known to us by experience, and as confessedly
framed by an all-wise and gracious Governor, they
will find a surprising analogy between Nature and
Religion ; they will find the probability weigh down
strongly on the side of the truth of Christianity,
even prior to its direct proofs and evidences ; they
will find, that the system of Christianity is loaded
with no greater difficulties than the system of nature
is, and that it is no safer to spurn at the scheme of
religion, than to ridicule the constitution of the same
infinitely glorious God, in 1

lis temporal government
of mankind.

In short, our author shows, that the
dispensations of Providence, which

now, as inhabitants of this lower world
4 momentary interest to secure in it, are analogous
to, and, in fact, of a piece with, that further dispen-
sation which relates to us as designed for another
world, in which we have an eternal interest. The
natural and moral world are thus seen to be inti-
mately connected together, and to be parts of one
stupendous whole, where our ignorance betrays us
the instant we dare to speculate and imagine things
of ourselves, but where common sense and common
prudence lead us on securely, if we are modest, and
practical, and sincere. And the chief objections
which are urged against religion, are thus shown to
be false and frivolous ; because they might have been
equally urged before experience had taught us,

we are under
, and as having

f nature, which
e come from the

If, therefore, they are incon-
against the external and obvious,

are admitted on all hands to hav
ever-blessed God.
clusive when raised

and, as it were, tangible order of things around us,

 
Xvi

much more are they inconclusive, when raised against
the moral, and invisible, and mysterious order of
things which Christianity reveals. :
It is true, this whole argument from analogy is
only a probable one. It does not amount to demon-
stration. But then it is a probable argument of the
highest kind, and far stronger than those by which
men are every day guided in their most important
concerns. There are very few things indeed for
which we have, or can have, demonstrative evidence.
For such feeble creatures as we are, probability is
the guide of life. Every thing turns upon it. Fron
a single slight presumption may not be without its
weight; but presumptions, however slight in them-
selves, if frequently repeated, often amount to a moral
certainty. Thus, if we accidentally observe for one
day the ebb and flow of the tide, the observation
affords only some sort of presumption, and that per-
haps the lowest imaginable, that the same i
pen again to-morrow ; but the observation of this
event for so many days, and months, and ages to-
ether, as it has been observed by men in all places
aad countries, gives us a full assurance that it will
happen to-morrow. No man in his senses thinks
otherwise. Thus, also, no one doubts but that the
sun will rise to-morrow, and will be seen, if seen at
all, in the figure of a circle, and not in that of a square.
So again, we conclude that there is no kind of pea.
sumption that there will not be frost in Englanc
given day in January next; that it is probable t "
there will on some day of that month, and that there is
almost a moral certainty of it in some part or other
of the winter. In like manner, when we observe in

XvVil

human affairs generally, that any thing does regu-
larly come to pass, we infer that other things which
are like to it, or have an analogy with it, will also
come to pass. Human concerns are all carried on
by this natural process of reasoning. And yet we
have no demonstrative evidence in any such cases.
Thus we believe that a child, if it lives twenty years,
will grow up to the strength and stature of a man 3
that food will contribute to the preservation of its
life; and the want of food, for a certain number of
days, be its certain destruction. It is thus men go
on continually. They judge and act by what is
probable, and never dream of asking for further evi-
dence. The rule of their hopes and fears; of their
calculations of success in their pursuits ; of their ex-
pectations how others will act in such circumstances ;
and of their judgment that such actions proceed from
such principles; all these rest on the argument from
analogy : that is, on their having observed, before,
the like things with respect to themselves or others.
Especially, if any great scheme of things is laid be-
fore men claiming to be the plan of such and such a
person, and demanding certain efforts and duties, they
compare this scheme with the acknowledged produc-
tions of that person, and judge by analogy whether
it is his or not. They compare the part of this per-
son’s designs which is known and familiar to them,
with the new scheme at present unknown, in order
to form a probable opinion. ’ If; on consideration,
they can trace the same mind in both plans, the same
ends, the same sort of means, the same general laws,
the same benevolence and wisdom, the same vast-
ness of comprehension, the same apparent perplexity

 
 

 

 

 

XVviil

working the same good results, the same moral char-
acteristics and features, and, above all, a dependence
and connection between the two; they conclude that
they both proceed from the same author., And if
objections should be raised against the new and un-
known scheme, which, on calm inquiry, seem to lie
equally against the scheme already known and ac-
knowledged to come from the same hand, these ob-
jections have no weight with them, that is, they are
answered by the analogy or likeness which the one
constitution and scheme bears to the other. Per-
sons who doubt of the force of a probable argument
in religion, should consider in this way what evidence
that is upon which they act every day with regard
to their temporal interests. They act in the daily
course of life upon evidence much lower than what
is called probable. In questions of the greatest con-
sequence, a reasonable man marks the lowest proba-
bilities, such as amount to no more than showing
that one side of a question is as supposable and
credible as the other. And any one would be
thought mad who did not do so, in many cases.
Men not only guard against what they fully believe
will happen, but also against what they think it
possible may happen; they often engage in pursuits
when the probability is greatly against success; they
make such provision for themselves as it is suppos-
able they may have occasion for, though the plain
acknowledged probability is, that they never will have
such occasion.

Indeed it is a real imperfection in the moral char-
acter, not to be influenced in practice by any degree
of evidence, even the lowest, when it is discovered.

XIX
Men are under a formal and absolute obligation to
act in practical matters on the side of the least pre-
ponderating probability. As when we weigh two
things in a pair of true scales,

tion of the beam enable
heavier,

the smallest inclina-
s us to see which is the
and binds us to act on the fact that it is
so: so, in matters of practice, the smal
weight on one side more than another, enables us to
see what is our duty, and binds us to act accordingly.

If, then, the analogy of nature only showed us
that there was the lowest presumption of the truth
of religion notwithstanding difficulties, men would be

formally and absolutely bound to believe and obey it.
But if this analogy sl

lest degree of

hows that there is not merely a

low presumption, but the highest probability of its

e very objections to it rest on such
matters as are apparently inconclusive, when applied

truth, and that th

to that system of things in Providence which is ac-
knowledged to come from an All-wise and Almighty
reator; nay more, that these very objections may,
for any thing we know, be really benefits, yea, most
Important instances, upon the whole, of the Divine
goodness, the duty of obedience to it becomes still
more imperative. And when it is considered that,
besides this argument from analogy silencing our
scruples, the numerous direct evidences of Chris.
tianity remain what they were before, unanswered
and unanswerable, the obligation to receive the Chris-
tian doctrine becomes, in fact, the first and paramount
duty of a reasonable and accountable creature; and
the rashness and guilt of rejecting it become crimi-

 
 

 

 

XX

This, then, is the general design of Bishop But-
ler. He undertakes to show, that men cannot reject
Christianity on the footing of objections, without
acting against those rules of probability by which
they have been guided all their lives in all their most
important concerns, and by which they are guided
continually, and must be guided, however they may
act with regard to Christianity. Thus our author
leaves the unbeliever without excuse—condemned by
his own conduct on all like occasions—condemned
by the universal experience of mankind—and acting
in the most important of all subjects in an opposite
manner to what common sense and common prudence
compel him to do every day of his life, on the most
momentous, as well as the slightest occasions. Such
is the scope of this celebrated Treatise. If we have
dwelt longer than might seem necessary in explaining
it, let it be remembered, that it is the key to all that

follows.

After this sketch of the design of the Analogy,
let us now proceed TO GIVE AN IDEA, SO FAR AS WE
MAY BE ABLE, OF THE SEVERAL STEPS OF OUR
AUTHOR'S ARGUMENT. We say, sO far as we may
be able; for it is no easy task to compress and sim-
plify a series of close and profound reasoning. How-
ever, some assistance may be given. The reader’s
patience is requested. Such an author demands and
rewards the utmost attention, and cannot be under-
stood without it.

The whole Treatise is divided into two parts. In
the First, the Author shows, that the things princi-
pally objected against Natural Religion, are analogous

XX1

to what 1 1 i
18 experienced in the course of nature and
’ 3

therefore, inconclusi
re, inconclusive. In the Second, he shows

the sam “hristiani
dh i i 3 Catalan or Revealed Relicion
‘rst Part, he consi ontly
Thy Dost ders, as we shall presently
vibuonhid by by a separate review of each
» that natural religion t iy
; g eaches, 1. That i
A s. X. mankind
o live hereafter in a future state. 2. That ther
ever .
EL one shall be rewarded or punished. 3. That
rewards and punishments will be accordine
men’s good or evil behavi 3s
ne it : I behaviour here. 4. That our
P ot ife is a probation or trial. 5. That it is
Ss 5 . - - - » ‘ 2
2 e of moral discipline for a future life. 6. That
1¢ noti : essi { , :
: tion of necessity forms no valid obijectio
sin these truths; and, 7. That as this ) f
religion is 7 1 pons
Hi Ry but ey partially made known to us in
vorld, no obijecti i i i
’ jections against its w
ag s wisdom and ¢ood
ness ar i : ye
are of any real weight. These poi oy
AS g e points we shall
f In seven separate chapters
‘rom this view of ior
of natur lio
ar al al religion, we shall pro-
’ er in the Second Part of his work. to
weigh, 1. The importance of Christian;
a Lu portance o Christianity ; 2. The
: jections raised against it, on the ground of its be
o :
1g miraculous; and, 3. Our incapaci " judgi
Pana ur incapacity of judging
A s e expected in a revelation, and the
; 7
y that it would contain thines ap
g apparently

oben iat :
pen to objections. 4. We shall next have to con-

as a sch 1 fi 2

ining 5 The particular system itself of
the redem 1% f Do of a Mediator, and
wont oF oy d ; t ie world by him; and, 6. The
bi Hi 1ty in revelation, and the supposed
have to a % Jrock of I, After this, we shall

ice, 7. The objections against the par-

 
XXil
istianity ; ly, 8. The
ticular evidence for Christianity ; af Ja ys s The
d agains s
i enerally ag
ject hich may be made g a
RR "nat licion. These
re to relig
i ; 1e analogy of natu
wo fon 8 Is of i chapters. The following
] ads o
will be the he y= wins
few will accordingly contain seven Gores
revie : i
1 1e second.
first division of it, and eight in t on
The author begins his Treatise (Pa L 2D)
1 r
ith that which is the Pane of a ot 5 pos
ars whic
: r hopes and fe
and all our fears; all ou : os Bin
] -onsideration—a - :
A i icent Author o
{ -anted that there is an Intellige Au !
kg 1 1 will and character is just an
re, W mora : |
Nature, whose Ja od
rood in the very highest degree. Li or
: be .
NX ture formed the universe as it 1s, and a
| 0
se of it as he does, rather than in ay :
cour 2 yo
he er. Men, as rational creatures, oh >
manner. J Se
flect on the mysterious scheme of things I A
f hich they find themselves; and cannot bw ee
Oo ither re goIng
hence they came and whither they are g ng, my
ae i f the system in whic
i nd or issue o y
; will be the end : \ id
os placed. Now it will appear, in the 8
they are ¢ : : SE mas
1 from considering the analogy of n > oe
a |
he : is nothing improbable in what re igion 2 i
: o i rh eath.
a are to exist in another life after Sons
t we “9 i
ars d, a confused suspicion, that, |
There is, indeed, a c Di the
t shock of the unknown event, « ‘i . A ne
To ) 1 roof o
S ars will be destroyed. The sensib e P Moen
rers is removed.
ino possessed of these pow ers is ren : 2
I ‘bl to us. Nature shrinks from it. : .
is terrible to us. : a
HN come calmly to consider these appre
when we ¢ ge,
ions, we shall find them to be To chit
A For it is clearly a general law of na . :
i : 1 exi re in very differen
1 me creatures should exist here in very
the sa

 

XXiii,

degrees of life and perception. W
of this law in the surprising ch
flies, and in birds and insects
and entering into a new world
accommodations for them,
we ourselves existed formerly in the womb, and in
the years of infancy, are widely different from the
state of mature age, Nothing can be im
different. T herefore, that we are to ex
in a state as different
from our former one,
of nature,

2. There is a probability, in every case, that all
things will continue as we now find them, in all re-
Spects, except those in which we have some positive
reason to think they will be altered,
eral law. Nature goes on as it is,
only reason for believing that tl
will continue to-morrow, as it is to-day, and as it has
done, so far as experience and history can c
back. If then our living powers do not continue after
death, there must he some positive reason for this,
either 7n deat), itself or in the analogy of nature.

But there is no positive reason 7x death itself, for
we know not what jt 1s; we only know some of its
effects, such as the dissolution of flesh, skin, and
bones; and these effects in nowise appear to imply
the destruction of the living agent. Sleep, or a
swoon, shows us that the living powers may exist
when there is no present capacity of exercising them,

In fact we know not upon what the existence of our
living powers depends.
Nor does the analogy

e see instances
ange of worms into
bursting their shell,
furnished with new
The states also in which

agined more
ist hereafter
from our present, as this is
is only according to the analogy

This is a gen- "
ry .

This seems our
1e course of the world

arry us

of nature furmsh any posi-

 
XXIV

i destruction.
1 n to think that death is our
a i herewith to trace any
For we have no faculties w on
hing beyond, or through death, to see oe
pane of those powers. Men were possessed oP ase
os : r Tr & Cu
a s up to the period to which i he
po, it 1 refore, tha
Fo tracing them; it is probable, therefore,
Oo
retain them sha ; eh nite da
’ + oross bodies a
5 ur i no destruc-
herefore the destruction of them may be King
f ourselves. We see that men may lo et
ony , > ven the creates
. heir organs of sense, and e g oot
Hila b di nd yet remain the same living
f their bodies, an ! 0 58 Be
Our organized bodies are merely
Sm. f matt whi may be alienated,
antities of matter 8 :
laroe quantities : : rhe sion
d on are in a daily course of suce 2
: whilst we remain the same living per Bow
aes 1 p we hav
re i ling. As, therefore,
beings notwithstanc g : i i fi
1 Ir 7 st a ores
; imes over, lost a g
Iready, several t o ess posiof ans
b d ¥ perhaps the whole of it, Sera C a
vi "nature: so when we she
ished laws of nature;
~ommon establis no
Io great a part, or the whole, by oi me
ose as 0 on
established law of nature, death, w ym ie
pi 1 in the same? That the alienatio :
De ll be more at once
i 5 ad wi
been gradual in one case, ar ie mane
in the other, proves nothing to io Es. desl
1c r bodi
4. But, more particularly, oh ¢ Josry
: i erce a
struments of p
roans and ins f per Bo
ye 0 use of common optical instruments i \
oa o i ; nd in
ith our eyes in the same sense, a
wid ri ith glasses. These glasses,
e see with 3 5
o other, as w 50% Pas
2 hich are no part of our body, convey Mee iw
1 or 3
: ivi power, just as our bodily g
en h eyes only in this manner,
1 with our
And if we see

XXV

the like may be concluded as to all
card to the
destruction of a limb

we can walk by the help of an artificial leg, just as
we can make use of a pole to reach things beyond
the length of the natural arm. Woe may therefore
have no more relation to our external bodily organs,
than we a staff, or any other
instruments of per-
tion of these organs
f the living agent.
our powers of reflection do not,
even now, depend on our gross body in the same
manner as perception by the organs of sense does,
In our present condition, the organs of sense are in-
deed necessary for conveying in ideas to oyu reflect-
Ing powers, as carriages, and levers, and scaffolds are
in architecture; hut when these ide
in, and stored up in the mind
pleasure and pain by reflection,
assistance from our senses. Mortal diseases often
do not at all affect our intellectual powers, nor even
suspend them. We gee persons under those dis-
eases, the moment before death, discover apprehen-
sion, memory, reason, all entire—the utmost force
of affection, and the highest mental enjoyments and
sufferings : why then should a disease, when come to

a certain degree, be thought to destroy those powers,

which do not depend on the bodily senses, and which

were not affected by that disease quite up to that
degree ?

our other senses,

have to a microscope or
foreign matter, which we use as
ception or motion; and ‘he dissolu
by death may be no destruction o
5. But further:

as are once brought
> We are capable of
without any further

6. Nay, our future existence may probably be not
the begining, properly speaking, of any thing new,
B 17

 
XXV1
hut only the continuance, the going on of 0 present
life as intelligent agents. Deat 1 may ) iy: Sa
our birth, which is not a i ) he fini
we had before, nor a total change 0 t i $s oh
in which we existed when in the womb, 5 ons
i of both, with such and such great
A 1 our present relation to our bodily organs
wy he Se only natural hinderance 2 OVE euiniag
hereafter in a higher state of being on : Bont.
7." But even if death suspends our b ing pe oi :

which does not appear, yet a sleep or a 5 Bay
teach us that the suspension of pos

struction of it, Daw i § Bo a

‘hole, the ana
p > hy a as are ok. that we are il

saree .. so we shall go on to be such, notwith-
ny f leath which, it is likely, may
i gol he new scenes, and a new
ior turally as we came
. f life and action, just as na y ne
Se h ent. This will appear most probable,
ae epee otly leave off the delusive custom of
HE imagination in the on of ih
and would confine ourselves to wha

and understand.

Cuar. I11.—A future state being ome grad,
an unbounded prospect is opened to oe lop wom
fo s. The expectation of immorta , 8 85:3
Re of indifference, but a subject of the 2 a
io For the whole analogy of nature s 10
Spe is hing incredible in the supposition
ha Ger 1 pa ot and punish men hereafter for

Ww :
BEd oe And it is infinitely unreasonable

in men to act upon any other supposition.

XXvii

1. For in the present life,
and pain are the consequences of our actions, and
that we are endued with capacities of foreseeing
these consequences, and acting accordingly. This
is the constitution of the Author of Nature. By
prudence and care we may pass our days in tolerable
quiet; by rashness, passion, wilfulness, or even by
negligence, (which is very observable, ) we may make
ourselves as miserable as we please. This is the
general course of things. God’s method as the
Governor of the universe, is clearly to forew
of such and such things, and to
of foreseeing, that if we act so
such and such enjoyments and

2. It is then a simple m
under the dominion of G
under the dominion and r
because the annexing pleasure to some actions, and
pain to others, and the giving notice of this before-
hand, is the proper formal notion of
We are thus compelled to admit,
of Nature acts here as a Master or Governor : there
can, therefore, be nothing incredible in the general
doctrine of religion, that God wil] act thus hereafter

—that is, will reward and punish men for their
behaviour.

we see that pleasure

arn us
give us capacities
and so, we shall have
sufferings,

atter of fact, that we are
od here, just as we are
ule of civil magistrates ;

government,
that the Author

3. But as divine punishment is what men chiefly
object against, and are most unwilling to allow, it is
important to observe, not merely th
deal of misery in the world, but that there is a great
deal which men bring upon themselves, and which
they might have foreseen and avoided, Now, the
circumstances of these natural punishments are such

B 2

at there is a great

 
XXViil

as these :=—They are often the consequences of ac-
tions which procure many present advantages, ov
bring much present pleasure. Again, they are 0 wi!
much greater than the advantages or pleasures of
the actions which they follow. Lhey are ER
delayed a great while ; sometimes till long after ! 1e
actions occasioning them are forgot. They then
come, after such delay, not by degrees, but suddenly,
with violence and at once. They are often not
thought of during the actions themselves ; yet
they inevitably follow. Thus habits formed in youth
are utter ruin for life; though, for the most part,
this consequence is little thought of at the time.

1. We observe further, that the natural course
of things gives us opportunities, which, like the
seedtime, cannot be recalled if we once neglect them;
and that, in many cases, real repentance and refor-
mation are of no avail to remedy or prevent the
miseries naturally annexed to previous folly ; that
neglects from mere inconsiderateness and want of
attention, are often as fatal as from any active mis-
conduct; and that many natural punishments are
mortal, and seem inflicted either to remove the of-
fender out of the way of being further mischievous,
or as an example to others.

5. Now these things are not accidental, but are
matters of every day’s experience, proceeding from
ceneral laws by which God obviously is governing
r world ; and they are so analogous to what reli-
gion teaches us concerning the future pubishinient of
the wicked, that both may be expressed in the very
same words. ' ; 2st

6. Especially we see, that after men’s neglecting

 

XXIX

repeated warnings, and many checks, in a course of
vice—after these have been long scorned—and after
the worst consequences of their follies have been de-
layed for a great while; at length their punishment
breaks in upon them irresistibly, like an armed force:
repentance is too late to relieve their misery—the case
is desperate ; and poverty and sickness, remorse and
anguish, infamy and death, overwhelm them, as the
effects of their own behaviour, beyond the possibility
of remedy or escape.

-

7. Not that men are thus uniformly punished
here in proportion to their vices, but they often are:
very many such cases occur, and dreadful ones too
—cases quite sufficient to show what the laws of the
universe may admit, and to answer all objections
against future punishments, from the vain idea, that
the frailty of nature, and the force of temptations,
(as men sometimes speak, ) almost annihilate the guilt
of human vices.

8. Thus, on the whole, the particular final causes
of pleasure and pain distributed by Almighty God
here, prove that we are under his government, in the
same way as subjects are under the rule of civil
magistrates. And future rewards and punishments
are but an appointment, analogous and of the same
sort with what we thus actually experience in this
world, in the regular course of universal Providence.

Cuar. III.—But further: this natural govern-
ment of God, under which we now find ourselves, is
a moral or righteous government. It is not merely
a government by rewards and punishments, like that
which a master exercises over his servants, which in

 
XXX

human affairs is often exercised tyrannically and par-
tially, but one which renders to men according to
their actions, considered as morally good or evil.
This is the next step in removing objections against
natural religion.

Men have no ground whatever to assert that God
is simply and absolutely benevolent—this indeed
may be so upon the whole—but he clearly manifests
himself unto us as a righteous Governor. This
government, indeed, so far as it is seen here, and
taken alone, is not complete and perfect; but still a
righteous government is carried on here, quite suffi-
ciently to give us the apprehension that it shall be
completed in a future life. We see now the clear
beginnings, the rudiments of a moral government,
notwithstanding all the confusion and disorder of the
world. This is enough to answer all objections
against the future judgment, which religion teaches
us to expect.

1. For as God is our Governor, no rule of his
government appears to creatures endued with a moral
nature as we are, so natural, so unavoidable, consider-
ing his infinite perfections, as that of distributive
justice. The expectation then of this is not in itself
absurd or chimerical.

2. Next, as God has endued us with capacities
of foreseeing the good and bad consequences of our
behaviour, and rewards and punishes prudence and
imprudence respectively, this plainly implies some
sort of moral government. Tranquillity and satis-
faction follow a prudent management of our affairs;
and rashness and negligence bring after them many
sufferings. These are instances of a right consti-

XXX1

tution of things here; just as the correction of chil-
dren, when they run into danger, or hurt themselves,
1s a part of right education.

3. Again, the Author of Nature has so appointed
things, that vicious actions, as falsehood, injustice,
cruelty, &e. must be punished, and are punished, as
mischievous to society. He has put mankind under
a necessity of thus punishing them, just as he has
put them under a necessity of preserving their lives
by food. Thus men are, in some respects, unavoid-
ably under a moral government here ; they are pun-
ayer pig as being mischievous or beneficial

: 4. Again, we are so formed that virtue, as such,
gives us satisfaction, at least in some instances ; vice,
as such, and on its own account, in none. This ia
a proof not only of government, but of moral govern-

ment, begun and established—moral in the strictest
sense, though not in that perfection of degree which
religion teaches us to expect. The sense of well
and ill doing, the presages of conscience, the love
which men have to good characters, and the dislike
of bad ones; honour, shame, gratitude ; vexation and
remorse, arising from reflecting on an action done by
us, as being wrong; disturbance and fear, from a
sense of being blameworthy : and, on the other hand,
inward security and peace, complacency and joy of
heart, accompanying the exercise of friendship, com-
passion, benevolence ;—all this shows that we are
placed here in a condition, in which our moral nature
operates in favouring virtue and punishing vice.
Vice cannot at all be, and virtue cannot but be, fa-
voured on some occasions, and for its own sake, by

 
XXXi1

ourselves and others. The one cannot but be mis-
erable ; the other cannot but be happy in itself in
some degree. And though the wicked are at times
prosperous, in some respects and externally, and the
righteous afflicted, this cannot, and does not, drown
the voice of Providence, plainly declaring, in the
course of things, for virtue upon the whole. For it
is clear that these disorders are brought about by the
perversion of passions, which were implanted in us
for other, and those very good purposes.

5. Once more: there is, in the natural course of
things, a tendency in virtue and vice to produce their
good and bad effects in a greater degree than they
do in fact produce them. This is a very consider-
able thing. Good and bad men would be much more
rewarded and punished here as such, were not justice
eluded by various artifices, were not characters un-
known, were not many other hinderances presented
by accidental causes. But these hinderances may
be removed in a future state, and virtue enjoy its
proper and full reward. In the meantime, these
tendencies are declarations of God, in his natural
Providence, in favour of virtue. To judge better of
the tendency of virtue to produce happiness, let any
one consider what a nation would become, if all its
citizens were perfectly virtuous; and that for a suc-
cession of ages. Wars would be unknown ; passions
would be restrained ; crimes, factions, envy, jealousy,
injustice would be banished ; laws and punishments
would be unnecessary; all would contribute to the
public prosperity, and each would enjoy the fruits
of his own virtue. United wisdom would plan every
thing, and united strength execute it. Such a

 

XXX1il
kingdom would be like heaven upon earth. If any
think the tendency of virtue to produce these results
to be of little importance, I ask him what he would
think if vice had essentially these advantageous ten-
dencies.

6. The notion, then, of a moral righteous govern-
ment is suggested by the course of nature, and the
execution of it is, as we have seen, actually begun;
and there is ground to believe that virtue and vice
may be rewarded and punished hereafter in a higher
degree than they are here, because the tendencies to
the perfection of this moral scheme are natural, whilst
the hinderances are only accidental.

Cuapr. IV.—If this be so—if there be this moral
government, then it implies, in the next place, that
our present life is a state of probation; that our future
interest is appointed to depend on our behaviour, just
in the same manner as our temporal interest is ap-
pointed to depend on our behaviour. And this state
of probation implies, in both cases, difficulty in secur-
ing our happiness, and the danger of losing it.

1. For we are clearly at present in a state of trial
as to this world, under God’s natural government.
So far as men are tempted to any course of action,
which will probably occasion them greater inconve-
nience than satisfaction, they are in a state of trial as
to their temporal interests, and those interests are in
danger from themselves. Now, from the course of
things around us, we have innumerable temptations
to forfeit and neglect these temporal interests, and to
run ourselves into misery and ruin: thence arises the
difficulty of behaving so as to secure our tempcral in-

B3

 
XXX1V

terests, and the hazard of behaving so as to miscarry
in them. And outward temptations, concurring, as
they always do, with inward habits and passions, as
really put men in danger of voluntarily foregoing
their temporal interests, as their future ones, and as
really render self-denial necessary to secure one as
the other: so analogous are our states of trial in our
temporal and religious capacities.

2. Again, as to both states, we see that some men
scarcely look beyond the passing day, so much are
they taken up with present gratifications; that others
are carried away by passions against their better judg-
ment, and their feeble resolutions of acting better ;
and that some even avow pleasure to be their rule of
life, and go on in vice, foreseeing that it will be their
temporal ruin, and apprehending at times that it may
possibly be their future ruin also. Thus the dangers
in both states produce the same effects, as they pro-
ceed from the same causes ; that is, they are analogous
and alike.

3. Further, in both states our dangers are in-
creased by the ill behaviour of others, by wrong
education, bad example, corruption of religion, mis-
taken notions concerning happiness.

4. Again, in both, men by negligence and folly
bring themselves into new difficulties, no less than
by a course of vice; and by habits of indulgence be-
come less qualified to meet them. Tor instance,
wrong behaviour in youth increases the difficulty of
right behaviour in mature age; that is, puts us in a
more disadvantageous state of trial.

5. In both, also, we are in a condition which does
not seem the most advantageous for securing our true

 

XXXV

interests. There are natural appearances of our
being in a state of degradation. Yet we have no
ground of complaint; for as men may manage their
temporal affairs by prudence, so as to pass their days
in tolerable ease; so, with respect to religion, no
more is required than we must be greatly wanting to
ourselves if we neglect.

6. Once more, as thought, and self-denial, and
things far from agreeable, are absolutely necessary
for securing our temporal interests, all presumption
against the same being necessary for securing our
higher interests is removed.

7. Had we not experience as our guide, we might,
indeed, in speculation, urge it to be impossible that
any thing of hazard should be put upon us by an
Infinite Being, since every thing which is hazardous
in our conception, is now already certain in his fore-
knowledge. And indeed this may well be thought
a difficulty in speculation, and cannot but be so, till
we know the whole, or, however, much more of the
case. And if mankind, as inhabitants of this world,
really found themselves always in a settled state of
security, without any solicitude on their part, and
in no danger of falling into distresses and miseries,
by carelessness or passion, by bad example, or the
deceitful appearances of things,—then it would be
some presumption against religion, that it represents
us in a state of trial and danger as to our future hap-
piness. But now the whole course of nature shows
us, that we are in a state of extreme hazard as to our
temporal interests. And this constitution of things
is settled by Almighty God as our natural Governor.
It is as it is. This is quite clear. And this is suf-

 
XXXVi1

ficient to answer all objections against the Credit
of our being in a state of trial and difficulty, under
the moral government of the same God, as to our
future and eternal interests.

Cuar. V.—If we go on to ask, how we em

be placed in a probationary state of so much aie ty
and hazard, we have already said that we can gi e no
complete answer. Possibly it would be beyonc ou
faculties, not only to find out, but even to under-
stand the whole reason; and even if we had faculties,
whether it would be of service or prejudice to us i
be informed of it, it is impossible to say. ; a
another question may be naturally put, to i }
satisfactory reply may be given. If it be as ed,
What is our main duty here, as placed in this state
of trial and difficulty? analogy will help us to answer,
For moral discipline, as preparatory to a fan sme
of security and happiness. The beginning of li Fi
the present world, considered as an Sa b
mature age, appears plainly, at first sight, analogous
to this trial for a future one.

1. For our nature here corresponds to our exter-
nal condition, and what we call happiness is the re-
sult of this nature and this condition. Now, as there
are some determinate character and qualifications
necessary to men’s enjoyment of the present life; so
analogy leads us to conclude, that there must be Sie
determinate character and qualifications to render
men capable of the future life of the good hereafter.
The one is set over against the other. :

2. In the next place, we see that the constitu-
tion and faculties of men are such, that they are

 

XXXVii

capable of naturally becoming qualified for states of
life for which they were at first wholly unqualified.
The human faculties are made for gradual enlarge-
ment; habit gives us new faculties in any kind of
action, and produces secret, hut settled and fixed
alterations in our temper and character. As habits
of the body are produced by repeated acts, so habits
of the mind are produced by carrying into act inward
principles; such as obedience, submission to author-
ity, veracity, justice, charity, attention, industry, self-
government. Habit forms men to these virtues ;
Just as habit forms the archer to skill, the porter to
strength of arm, the racer to swiftness, the artizan
in every kind of manufacture, to adroitness and pre-
cision. Such is the constitution of our nature, By
accustoming ourselves to any course of action, we
get an aptness to go on in it: the inclinations which
made us averse to it grow weaker; the real difficul-
ties of it lessen; the reasons for it offer themselves
of course; and thus a new character may be formed,
not given us by nature, but which nature directs us
to acquire.

3. These capacities of improvement are most im-
portant. Man is left, considered in his relation to
this world only, an unformed, weak, unfinished crea-
ture, wholly unqualified for the mature state of life
to which he is designed. He needs the acquisitions
of knowledge, experience, and habits, in order at all
to attain the ends of his creation. And he is placed,
in childhood and youth, in a condition fitted for sup-
plying his deficiencies, Children, from their birth,
are daily learning something necessary for them in
the future scenes of their duty. The first years of

 
XXXViil

life are a course of education for the practice of adult
age. We are much assisted in it by example, in-
struction, and the care of others, but a great deal 1s

left to ourselves to do and diligence, care, the volun-
tary foregoing many things which we desire, and the

setting ourselves to many things to which we have

no inclination, are absolutely necessary to our doing

this. All this is clear. We see it every day. In

like manner, then, our being placed in a state of
moral discipline throughout this life, as a state of
education for another world, is a plain providential
order of things, exactly of the same kind, and com-
prehended under one and the same general law of
nature.

4. Nor would it be any objection against this view
of things, if we were not able to discern in what way
the present life could be a preparation for another;
for we actually do not discern how food and sleep
bring about the growth of the body; nor do chil-
dren at all think that their sports contribute to their
health, nor that restraint and discipline are so neces=
sary, as we know they are, to fit them for the busi-

ness of mature age.

5. But we are, in fact, able to discern how the

present life is fit to be a state of discipline for another.
If we consider that God’s government of us is a
moral one, and that consequently piety and virtue are
necessary qualifications for a future state, then we
may distinctly see that the present course of things
is adapted to improve us in virtue, and prepare us
for a future world, just as childhood is a natural state
of discipline, and a necessary preparation for mature
age. Now, how greatly we want moral improvement

 

XXXIX

Bvdiestiline 3

: y discipline is clear, from the or

peso) and the imperfect pe
his every one sees.

at wickedness of
ions of the best men,

6. But all do not see th .

ACCOR at mankind, n

virtue, P i finite creatures, need a f
from deviating Seaing goes to form, to keep hon
very anstivntion re ip Men, from
virtue ar oir nature, before its
ive ee bomel, re i dng, Fo he mr
they can : continue to be such

05 it en mnocently or not; athe
upon unlawful i enjoy 10 incline us to rls
tical principle of oo of obtaining them. The prac-
Dissenters od 28 is then the security acains

ger; and this principle is Ma a or

disci line «
an ¥ "
hoa Sit a exercise; and thus ouards i
ger arising from the ver 5 s against the
foctions. y nature of particular af-

Ie Ll

{. If such
arti i
particular affections and mor

finite
creatures as
as men, endued with

th : al unders i
ese several parts uprigh crstanding, had all
would still be in d pright or finitely perfect, th
Bi danger of falling, and w RL
xperience and habits to improv, nd would require
them in Improve them
a secure s » and plac
tro e state. As these habits rte
gers would lessen, and their secur; gthen,
curity increase

self, but i
» but mprove i
's the inward i
d constituti
on and char-

ger of goin
g wrong, and m
. : a .
Security of virtuous habits y need the additional

 
xl

i d
lv must this hol
8. But how much a na
] hose who have =
ith respect to t ih
el ? NUpright creatures may want 5 be > p Ho
\ ved creatures want to be renewe A vn
epra a . ; ; :
i" for the upright; but absolutely

1s ient a. rer
is exped cpa od—and discipline of the seve

sary for the d

Li i ose. Tempta-
be a state of discipline for this" puspn kedness, our
i «perience of the deceits of wicke , -

on, “e* A yorld —pain,
: : i the vice and disorder of ihe . eh
pol : i t. vexation—a2a ave
; isappointment, : :  h
ame 4 3% deration of temper, whic
dency to bring us to that mo A
4 SY ms to the violent bent to fol ow Ne ined
C . SC
ti which may be observed In uo I i
¢ marion, : Fv tical sens
inds. Such experience gives 2 frat ales in
a i res
2 ings. And possibly the security of c ee
RYE. fect ay, in part, $
ection may, 2
iochest state of per ow. PY
the highest st; | such a sense of things as this
from their having had suc ok action
r Son ho a ghite :
min as
i od within the —
Jabitually fix my world Wi
i y ssed through the present wort
Their diving pa hi ha state of discipline re-
tion which a. sta by.
hat moral atten ‘io ions of this sort
ver mav leave everlasting impressions © Se
A 5 wd Now, when the exercise 4 :
on their minas. 3 : cuted wl
6 ous principle is continued, often pod y cer
" mn an
vir e. as it must ben circumstances ot d Jp i
ons i 1S ona -
faion the habit of virtue 1s propon Ay L to
eH : ; is peculia
reaed Thisiehe presse Sosy 1se as some
c ¢ discipline, in the same sel ,
Yejaistate of Gish sine the attention,
sciences, by requiring and engaging LC EC
» t be sure, of such persons as Wi = ' So
wt, 10 ’ t to
h as will, set themselves to them, are
suc

the mind to habits of attention.

 

xli

10. Accordingly we find there are some persons
who follow an inward principle of piety, and to whom
the present world is an exercise of virtue peculiarly
adapted to improve it—adapted to improve it, in
some respects, even beyond what it would be by the
exercise of it in a perfectly virtuous society.

11. That the present world does not actually be-
come a state of moral discipline to the generality, is
no proof that it was not intended to be so: for out
of the immense number of seeds of vegetables, and
bodies of animals, which are adapted to improve to
such and such a point of natural maturity and per-

fection, we do not see that perhaps one in a thousand
does thus improve; yet no one will deny that those
seeds and bodies which do so attain to that point of
maturity, answer the end for which _they were de-

signed by nature, and thercfore that nature designed

them for that perfection. And such an amazing

waste In nature, with respect to these seeds and
bodies, by foreign causes, is to us as unaccountable
as, what is much more terrible, the present and fu-
ture ruin of so many moral agents by themselves,
that is, by vice.

12. Further, these observations on the active prin-
ciple of obedience to God, are applicable to passive
obedience to his will, or resignation, which is another
essential part of a right character. For though we
may have no need of patience in a future state, yet
we may have need of that temper which patience has

formed; and the proper discipline for patience and

resignation is affliction. This resignation, together

with the active principle of obedience, makes up the
temper which answers to God’s sovereignty, to his
rightful authority, as supreme over all.

 
xlii
13. It cannot be objected to all this, that the
trouble and danger of this discipline might a len
spared us by our being made at once the c 1arac ers
which we were to become ; for we see by experience,
that what we are to become is to depend on what we
will do; and that the general law of nature 1s, oy 2
save us trouble or danger, but to make us capable o
01g yueh it.
ER further, as a state of probation,
is a theatre of action for the manifestation of possonet
characters, as a means of their being Jes) hot
suitably to those characters, and of its hie no >
to the creation by way of example that they are
i of.
a. thus appears clearly, on the a oy
our present state of difficulty and trial is bose i o
be a school of discipline for acquiring the qualification:

{ re ste * safety and happiness.
necessary for a future state of safety PI

Cuap. VI.—Nor does the opinion of necessity
weaken the credibility of the general Ue of a
ligion thus confirmed by analogy. For i any poe
sons consider the notion of universal necessity 2 :
to be reconcilable with the acknowledged condition
of men as under God’s natural government now,
(and to such persons only does this whole ee
address itself,) they must also consider it to be re-
concilable with the scheme of religion. a

1. Tor necessity clearly does not exclude de hors
tion, choice, and the acting from certain pinay
to certain ends, as to the things of this present world ;
because all this is matter of undoubted Ypres

For, if the instance of a house be taken, the Iatalist,

 

xliii

as well as others, would agree that it was designed
and built by an architect; and they would only differ
upon the question, whether the architect built it in
the manner, which we call necessarily, or in the man-
ner which we call freely. The idea of necessity does
not, then, at all destroy the proof that there is an
intelligent Author and Governor of nature, any more
than that the house was built by an architect.

2. Nor does necessity destroy at all the scheme of
religion. For as to the things of this world, suppose
a Fatalist to bring up a child in the idea that he is
not a subject of blame or praise for his actions, be-
cause he cannot help doing what he does. The
child would be vain and conceited, and go on follow-
ing his will and passions till he became first the
plague of himself and family, and then insupportable
to society; and thus he would soon do something,
for which he would be delivered over into the hands
of justice. In this way the correction he would meet
with, and the misery consequent upon it, would soon
convince him, that either the scheme of necessity, in
which he was educated, was false, or that he reasoned
inconclusively upon it, and somehow or other misap-
plied it to practice and common life. In like man-
ner, what the Fatalist experiences of the conduct of
Providence at present, ought in all reason to convince
him, that either his scheme of necessity is false, or
that somehow or other it is misapplied, when brought
to practical duty and religion in common life. Un-
der the present natural government of the world, we
are obviously dealt with as if we were free ; and

therefore the analogy of nature answers all objections
to our being dealt with as free, with regard to another

 
 

xliv

world. Thus the notion of necessity, whether true
or not in speculation, is not applicable to practical
subjects. With respect to them it is as if it were
not true.

3. Again, we find, by constant experience, that
happiness and misery are not necessary here, in such
a sense as not to be the consequences of our beha-
viour, for they are the clear consequences of it; and
God exercises over us the same kind of government
in this world, as a father does over his children, and
a civil magistrate over his subjects. These are mat-
ters of fact, things of experience, which cannot be
affected by the opinion about necessity. In like
manner, God’s moral government over men, as taught
by religion, cannot be affected by that opinion.

4. Besides, natural religion has an external evi-
dence, a positive foundation in facts and data, which
the mere opinion of necessity cannot affect.

5. And if men should say, that, Necessity being
true, it is incredible that God should govern us upon
a supposition of freedom which is false: the plain
answer is, that there must be a fallacy somewhere in
this conclusion; for the whole analogy of nature
proves that God does govern us by rewards and
punishments as free agents. And the fallacy lies,
supposing necessity to be true, in taking it for granted
that necessary agents cannot be rewarded and pun-
ished for their behaviour.

6. Thus, the notion of necessity, supposing it can
be reconciled with the constitution of things, and
what we experience under God’s rule here, is equally
and entirely reconcilable with the scheme of reli-

gion also.

xlv

Cuap. VIL—Still objections may be insisted
upon against the wisdom, equity, and goodness of
the divine government implied in the notion of reli-
gion, to which analogy (which can only show that
such and such things are credible, considered as
matters of fact,) can give no direct answer. But if
analogy suggests, that the divine government is a
scheme or system, as distinguished from a number
of unconnected acts of justice and goodness, and a
scheme imperfectly comprehended, then this dives a
general, though indirect answer to all Shieations
against the justice and goodness of that government

I. Now, in this present world and the whole
natural government of it, there is obviously a scheme
or system carried on, whose parts correspond to each
other; so that there is no natural event so sinele and
unconnected as not to have respect to SOT othor
actions or events; just as any work of art, or is
particular civil constitution of ove is a
scheme, and has various correspondent He Nor
can we give the whole account of any one thin
whatever in nature—of all its causes, ends, and
cessary adjuncts, without which it could not have
been. I'hings seemingly the most insignificant
imaginable, are perpetually discovered to re neces-
sary conditions of other things of the greatest im-
portance. 8

2. The natural world, then, being such an in-
comprehensible scheme—so incomprehensible that a
man must really, in the literal sense, know nothing
at all, who is not sensible of his ignorance of it ; this
strongly shows the credibility that the moral world
may be so too. Indeed the natural and moral world

 
 

xvi

are so connected, as probably to make up toh,
but one scheme; and thus the first may be sar
on in subserviency to the second; as the Yo e
world is for the animal, and the animal for the ra-
ii In this way, every act of Divine jsties sa
soodness may look much beyond itself, and may have
Sore reference to a general moral system; you may
have such respect to all other acts, as 0 ma 2 uP
altogether a whole, connected and a bs 2 2 3s
arts, which is as properly one as the Hain) ;
is. And if so, then it is most clear that ve are os
at all competent judges of this vast scheme, i he
small parts of it which come within our view ro
present life, and that objections against any 0
parts are utterly unreasonable. Yet this pers
which is universally acknowledged on other ike %
casions, is, if not denied, yet universally fy I
on the subject of religion, where it is most shiliios
applicable. Even reasonable men do not ma 2
Jowance enough for it. And this Ie sy 2
all objections against religion ; because, if > gion i
a scheme incomprehensible to us, some unknown 2
lation, or some unknown impossibility, ny le
the very things objected to, just and good; nay, J
d good in the highest practicable degree.
gp scularly, we see in the natural
4. But, more particularly, A
world, that as no ends are accomplis ol w og
means, SO means very undesirable are foun 2 ig
about ends so desirable as to overbalance mu 1 the
previous disagreeableness—means which, before ee
perience, we should have thought to have a ny
tendency. Thus, in the moral world, things whic

xlvii

we call irregularities may not be so, but may be
means of accomplishing wise and good ends more
considerable than the apparent irregularities ; yea,
the only means by which those ends are capable of
being accomplished.

5. This, however, is no argument to show that

it is not infinitely obligatory on us, and beneficial to

abstain from what is evil. For thus, in the wise

and good constitution of the natural world, there are
disorders which bring their own cures : yea, some

diseases which are remedies. As many men would

undoubtedly have died had it not been for the out
or a fever; yet it would be thought madness “0 say
that sickness is a better state than health ; though
men have asserted the like absurdity to this, with
regard to the moral world and moral evil.

6. Again, the natural world is carried on by
general laws, and not by particular interpositions to
prevent or remedy irregularities, as the moral world
may also be; and in both there may be the wisest
reasons for this scheme, for any thing we know.
Perpetual interposition would, for instance, clearly
encourage indolence, and render the rule of life du-
bious, which is now ascertained by this very thing,
that the course of the world is carried on by general
laws. And if this be the case, then the not inter-
posing on every particular occasion, is so far from
being a ground of complaint, that it is an instance
of goodness. This is intelligible and sufficient; and
going farther seems beyond the utmost reach of our
faculties. It is to go on quite at random and in the

dark.

7. Thus our ignorance answers all objections

 
xviii

against the scheme of religion, as we have shown;

because it is not a total ignorance, as some have said,

of the whole subject, which would preclude equally

all proof and all objection, but a partial ignorance,

which allows us to understand that the end of the
scheme is moral, but does not allow us to compre-
hend what means are best to accomplish this end.
Therefore, our ignorance is an answer to objections
against Providence in permitting irregularities, as
seeming contradictory to this end. Analogy shows
that it is not at all incredible, that if we could know
the whole, we should find the things objected to
consistent with justice and goodness, yea, instances
of it. Thus we do not argue from our ignorance,
properly speaking, but from something which analogy
shows us concerning that ignorance. For analogy

positively shows us that our ignorance of the various
relations of things in nature, makes us incompetent
judges in cases similar to this of religion, in which

we pretend to judge.

8. Ilinally, we are thus led to consider’ this little
scene of human life in which we are so busy, as
having a reference to a much larger plan of things.
Whether we are related to the more distant parts of
the boundless universe, is altogether uncertain. But
it is evident that we are placed in the middle of a
nrogressive scheme, incomprehensible with respect
to what has been, what now is, and what shall be
hereafter. Thus all short-sighted objections against
God’s moral government are answered ; and it is ab-
surd—absurd to the degree of being ridiculous, if
the subject were not of so serious a kind, for men to
lay any stress on these objections, and think them-

xlix

selves i ici i
secure 1n a vicious life, or even in that im

moral thouchtless i i
g ness into which far :
part of men are fallen. Beem

IG COOL EPPS PE OPG OO POG Or PrG re
roa

PART IL

Cua — i i i
re P. I. The chief difficulties against natural
Son, implying a moral government, and a stat
of trial an discipline r ( $
: preparatory for a fi
Sp 3 uture world
g ved, we proceed to consi i
ved onsider Christianity
ad 0 objections raised against it. And we be
5 is) . gin
y § i the vast importance of Christianity itself
. ! 0 say that mankind do not want a rev Latin.
as extravagant as it would be to say, that the a
SO >
] ay at ease and happy in the StI
t te eir condition could not be made better. Th :
who consider the state 101 Pye
of religion in th
¥ : g e heathen
: on agro revelation, and the present state of it
vhere revelation is unknov i
yn, cannot in 1
hn y seriousness
ink revelation incredible, upon pretence of its bei
unnecessary. Rn
. But many admit Christianity to be true, but
; ject to he importance of it, on the oround that
0 act on the principles of > ,
of natural religion i
open oo gion is enough
3 Cy is only designed to enforce the om
ice y This i 4
o of ye This is to suppose that it is a matter
n ; erence whether we ‘obey God’s commands
not, of which there infini th
may be infinite re i
: asons w
which we are not acquainted. So
% a the high importance of Christianity will
ap " 5 if » consider, Ist, That it is a republication
ural religion, teaching it in i i
gion, aching 1t In its genuine purity,
17

 
1

iti A 1 autho-
iavesting it with the additional evidence an i
i son y : -acles and prophecy; affording
rity arising from miracics i Hp
proof of God’s general providence as o% int
egy : 5
the world, with a degree of force to which hy
{ srectl isi
nature is but mere feebleness, erecting :
\ i rie y of its
church, as a standing memorial to the world th
. * ¥ nt o S
duty to its Maker, giving men the written oe : of
, 1 relati e dark=
i S ht of revelation on t
God, which cast the lig ; oy
ss of nature, as to the most important ye 3
ness : : 37 fads:
ishing ar ar cation of youth 1
and establishing a regular edu y
principles and habits of piety. fates ise
+. If men object to this, that Christianity ha
ittle influence
been perverted, and has had but little good influe |
. > - NO verted
we answer, that the law of nature has been perver
J ¢ ’ < - : vor
and rendered ineffectual in the same manner
pi God. And it may be
ot this is allowed to be from God. And ye
» ho ie a
:1. that the good effects of Christiamty
EE I it upposed il effects, any effects
n small ; nor its su
oye i ) Iv speaking. Perhaps, too, the
at all of it, properly speaking.
ard themselves imputed to it have been ag-
yerversions s imputed a =
vated ; and if not, Christianity has often been only
: 1d the same evils would have been done,
a pretence; al Se a
er pretence owever
or the main, upon some other pretence. H .

1 ‘hristian For
: aoainst Christianity.
they are no arguments ag

i soni atural
one cannot proceed a step in reasoning upon an ¢
y § 5 . . . ot
] istianity, withou
101 than upon Christianity,
Ki > Po ; it rndigie that the dispensa-
laying it down as a Hrs le, 3 if
‘lng D their
tions of Providence are not to be judged of by j
1 ine neies: NO
,erversions, but by their genuine fonilensss ]
{ ) ‘hat they
from what they actually effect, but from whe oy
would effect, if mankind did their part.

Ee . : "
5. Thus Christianity 1s most impart oa t
It i »onsl as a
i ing 1 reat, only considere
guilt of neglecting it 1s great y

li

supernatural aid to decayed natural religion, and a
new promulgation of God’s general providence, as
righteous Governor of the world. Especially as this
neglect further involves in it the omitting to do what
is expressly enjoined us by God, for continuing the
benefits of it to the world, and transmitting them
down to future times. :
eo J. But, 2dly, Christianity contains besides, an
account of a dispensation of things not at all discover-
able by reason; a dispensation carrying on by the
Son of God and the Holy Spirit for the recovery of
man, whom the Scriptures every where take for
granted to be in a state of ruin. In consequence of
this, many obligations of duty, unknown before, are
revealed; and these obligations of duty to the Son
and Spirit, arise from the offices which belong to
these Divine Persons, and from the relations in which
they stand to us; and are infinitely important. For
these reasons, we are commanded to be baptized in
the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the
Holy Ghost. By natural religion we know the re-
lation in which God the Father stands to us; and
hence arises the bond of duty which we are under to
Him. In Scripture are revealed the relations in
which the Son and Spirit stand to us; and hence
arise the bonds of duty which we are under to them.
It being once admitted that God is the Governor of
the world upon the evidence of reason, and that
Christ is the mediator between God and man, and
the Holy Ghost our guide and sanctifier, upon the
evidence of revelation, it is no more a question
whether it be our duty to obey, and be baptized into
the name of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, than
c?

 
lia
whether it be our duty to obey, and be baptized into
‘of the Father. :
pi The essence of natural religion may be said to
consist in religious regards to God the Father; aed
the essence of revealed religion, in religious regards
to the Son and Holy Ghost, to whom reverence,
honour, love, trust, gratitude, fear, hope, are due,
from the several relations in which they stand to us-¢
Thus Christianity appears most important. It in-
forms us of something wholly new in the state of the
world and in the government of it; of some relations
in which we stand, which could not otherwise have
been known. And these relations being real, 2
neglect of behaving suitably to them will be follower
with the same kind of consequences under God’s
sovernment, as neglecting to behave suitably to any
other relations. If Christ, then, be our Mediator,
our Lord, and our Saviour, the consequences not
only of an obstinate, but of a careless disregard to
him in those high relations, may follow in a future
world, as surely in a way of judicial punishment, and
even of the natural consequences of vice, as those
kinds of consequences follow vice in this world.

8. Again, if the nature of man is corrupt, and
needs the assistance of God’s Holy Spirit to renew
it, it cannot be a slight matter to neglect the Gp
appointed of God for obtaining this assistance. a
analogy shows us, that we cannot expect benefits
without the use of the commanded means—every
thing in God’s government being conducted by
IIs conclusion from all this is, that Christi-
anity being supposed credible, it is unspeakable

liii
irreverence, and really the most presumptuous rash-
ness to treat it as a light matter, and unimportant.

10. Before we go on to the next topic, we may

stop here to point out the distinction between what
is positive and what is moral in religion. Moral
precepts are those of which we see the reason—
positive, of which we do not: moral arise out of the
_nature of the case—positive from external command.
But the mere manner in which the reason of the pre-
cept, and the nature of the case are made known to
us, makes no difference in our duty. Gratitude and
love are as much due to Christ as moral precepts,
as they are due to the Father; though the first are
derived from revelation making Christ known to us
as our Mediator; the second, from reason teaching
us that the Father is our Creator, and the Fountain
of all good.

11. From this distinction between positive and
moral precepts, we may observe, that we see the
ground of that preference which the Scripture gives
to moral precepts over positive, if the two are incom-
patible. ‘We are to prefer the moral, because we
see the reason of them, and because the positive are
only means to a moral end, and are of no value,
except as proceeding from a moral principle. Men
are prone to place their religion in positive rites, as
an equivalent for moral duty; and, therefore, the
Scriptures always lay the stress on morals, where
they are mentioned together with positive rites; and
our Lord expresses the general spirit of religion
when he says, ¢ I will have mercy, and not sacrifice.”

Still we are not to omit positive institutions; be-
cause, when admitted to come from God, they lay
us under a strict moral obligation to obey them.

 
liv

12. To these remarks should be added, that the
view we have thus given of Christianity teaches us,
not to determine beforehand from reason what the
scheme of it must be, but to search the Scriptures
for it ; for it is no presumption against an interpre-
tation of Scripture, that it contains a doctrine which
the light of nature cannot discover, or a precept to
which the law of nature does not oblige. ;

13. All these considerations serve to heighten
the importance of Christianity, as not consisting of
positive commands merely, but as revealing new
duties resting on new relations, and being in the
strictest sense moral.

Cuap. 1L.—The importance of Christianity hav-
ing been thus shown, let us next quire what pre-
sumptions or objections there appear to be against
revelation in general, or at least agaist miracles, as
if they required stronger evidence than other matters

t do.
* I presumptions must arise either from Chris-
tianity not being discoverable by reason and expe-
rience, or because it is unlike the course of nature
as it now is.

1. But there is no presumption against it, be-
cause not discoverable by reason; for suppose any
one to be acquainted with what is called the system
of natural philosophy and natural religion, he would
feel that he knew but a small part of them, and that
there must be innumerable things of which he was
wholly ignorant. The scheme of nature is vast be-
yond all possible imagination, and what we know of

it is but as a point in comparison of the whole.

 

lv

Therefore, that things lie beyond the reach of our
faculties in Christianity, is no sort of presumption
against it, because it is certain there are innumerable
things in nature which do so.

2. Nor is there any presumption against Christi-
anity, from the present course of nature ; for analogy
by no means leads us to suppose, that the whole
course of things unknown to us, and every thing in
it, is like to any thing in that course of things which
is known. ICven in the natural course of the world,
we see things extremely unlike one another. But
the truth is, the scheme of Christianity is not wholly
unlike the scheme of nature, as we shall show here-
after.

3. Nor is there any presumption from analogy
against some operations which we should call miracu-
lous, particularly none against a revelation at the be-
ginning of the world; for then there had been no
course of nature, and therefore the question of a re-
velation, at that time, is only a common question of
fact. Creation was wholly different from the present
course of nature; and whether this power stopped
after forming man, or went on and gave him a revela-
tion, is a question of simple fact.

4. Nor is there any presumption against miracles,
after the settlement of the course of nature. For
we have no single parallel case of a world like our own,
to deduce an argument from: and if we had a case,
an argument from the analogy of that single instance
would have little weight. We require the history
of many similar worlds from which to raise any thing
like a presumption.

5. Besides, we know there is often a presumption

 
wd

a mtr to

Rr me

Ivi

against the commonest facts before the proof of them,
which yet almost any proof overcomes. And we are
in such ignorance, that it is not improbable, that five
or six thousand years may have given scope for ade-
quate causes for miracles, even leaving out the con-
sideration of religion. But if we take in the con-
sideration of religion, we then see distinct reasons for
miracles, which give a real credibility to them. At
all events, miracles must not be compared to com-
mon natural circumstances and phenomena, but to
the extraordinary phenomena of nature — comets, the
powers of electricity, &ec. And let any one reflect
what would be the presumption, for instance, against
the powers of electricity, in the mind of one ac-
quainted only with the common powers of nature.

6. There is, therefore, no such presumption
against miracles as to render them in any wise in-
credible ; nay, there is a positive credibility for them,
where we discern reasons for them; and there is no
presumption at all from analogy, even in the lowest
degree, against them, as distinguished from other
extraordinary phenomena.

Cuar. IIL.—We come now to consider objec-

tions against the Christian revelation in particular,
as distinct from objections against miracles—objec-
tions drawn from things in it, appearing to men
« foolishness ;” from its containing matters of offence,
leading, as it is alleged, to enthusiasm, superstition,
and tyranny ; from its not being universal; and from
its evidence not being so convincing as it might have
been.

1. Now it is credible from analogy that we should

lvii

be incompetent judges of a revelation to a great de-
gree, and that it would contain many things appear-
ing to us liable to objection. There is no more
ground to expect that Christianity should appear
free from objections, than that the course of nature
should. And the fact is, that men fall into infinite
follies and mistakes, when they pretend to judge of
the ordinary constitution and course of nature, and
of what they should expect it to be. It is therefore
probable, that men would err much more when they
pretend to judge of the extraordinary constitution and
scheme of Christianity, and of what they should ex-
pect it to be. For if a man, in the things of this
present world, is not a competent judge of the ordi-
nary government of a prince; much less would he be
so of any extraordinary exigencies on which that
prince should suspend his known and ordinary laws.
Thus objections against Christianity are really frivo-
lous. If men fancy there lie great objections against
the scheme of Providence in the ordinary and old
laws of nature, much more may they fancy there lie
objections against the scheme of Christianity in the
extraordinary and new laws of religion. Both
schemes are from the same God. And the objec-
tions against Christianity go upon suppositions which,
when applied to the course of nature, experience
shows to be inconclusive. They mislead us to think
that the Author of nature would not act, as we find
by experience he actually does, or would act in such
and such a manner, as we experience, in like cases,
he does not.

9. For instance, we are no sort of judges before-
hand, by what laws, in what degree, or by what

c3

 
viii

means, it were to have been expected that God would
instruct us naturally in his ordinary Providence; how
far he would enable men to communicate it to others;
whether the evidence of it would be certain, highly
probable, or doubtful; whether it would be given with
equal clearness to all; whether at once or gradually.
In like manner, supposing God afforded us an addi-
tional instruction by a revelation, we must be equally
ignorant beforehand whether the evidence of it would
be certain, whether all would have the same degree
of evidence, whether it would be revealed at once or
gradually, &ec.

Now, if we are incompetent to judge beforehand
of revelation, it is mere folly to object afterwards
against its being left in one way rather than another.

3. The only fair question is, whether Christianity
be a real revelation, and whether the book contain-

ing it be of divine authority; and scarcely at all
whether it be a revelation, and a book of such and

such a sort. So that, what men object against the
Scriptures as being obscure, as written in an inaccu-
rate style, as having various readings, and being the
subject of dispute, has no sort of force, unless it can
be shown that the sacred authors had promised that
the book should be secure from these things. We
are no judges whether it were to have been expected
that these things should be found in it or not. In
human writings we should indeed be judges, but not
at all in divine.

4. However, if men will pretend still to judge of
the Scriptures, and of Christianity, by previous ex-
pectation, then the analogy of nature shows, that

probably they will imagine they have strong objec-

RB

lix

tions against them. For so, prior to experience,
they would think they had against the instruction
afforded in the ordinary course of nature. For in-
stance, it would have been thought incredible that
men should have been so much more capable of dis-
covering, even to a certainty, the general laws of
matter, and the magnitudes and revolutions of the
heavenly bodies, than the cure of diseases, and many
other things in which human life is so much more
nearly concerned.
by which men discover things of the greatest mo-
ment in an instant, when perhaps they are thinking
of something else, which they have in vain been
searching after for years, would be thought most
irregular and capricious. So likewise the imperfec-
tions attending the only method we have of com-
municating our thoughts to each other, language,
would be judged utterly incredible. It is inadequate,
ambiguous, liable to infinite abuse. Now no objec-
tions against the manner in which Christianity
teaches in the Scriptures, are of greater weight than
these, which analogy shows us to have really no
force «at all.

5. To apply these remarks to a particular instance.
The abuse of miraculous powers is made an objec-
tion against their being really miracles ; but we see,
in the natural course of things daily, that remarkable
gifts of memory, eloquence, knowledge, are not al-
ways conferred on persons who use them with pru-
dence and propriety.

6. Again, as in natural and civil knowledge, there
are common and obvious rules of conduct, and parts
requiring very exact thought: so, in Christianity the

The method of invention again,

 
Ix

necessary matters of faith and practice are a plain
and obvious thing; whilst many other parts demand
careful investigation. And as natural knowledge is
acquired by particular persons comparing and pursu-
ing obscure hints dropped us by nature, as it were,
accidentally, or which seem to come into our minds
by chance; so probably the entire scheme of Chris-
tianity in the Scriptures will only be gradually under-
stood, by particular persons, attending to intimations
scattered up and down in it, and which most persons
disregard. Nor is it incredible that a book so long
known should contain many truths not yet completely
discovered ; for nature has been open to the investi-
gation of man for many thousand years, and yet
great discoveries are continually made.

7. And if men object against Christianity, that
it is not universally known, we reply, that many most
valuable remedies for natural diseases were unknown
for ages, and are known now but to few ; that pro-
bably many are not known yet; that the application
of them, when known, is difficult ; that if used amiss,
they often create new diseases; that they are often
not effectual; and that the regimen required is often
so disagreeable that men will not submit to it, but
satisfy themselves with the excuse, that if they did
submit, it is not certain they should be cured. These
natural remedies are neither certain, perfect, nor
universal ; and the principles of arguing which would
lead us to conclude they must be so, would not only
be contrary to fact, but would also lead us to con-
clude that there would be no diseases at all. It is
therefore not at all incredible that the like things
should be found in the remedy for moral diseases,

Ixi

Christianity, if it proceeds from the same divine hand
as natural remedies do.

Cuar. IV.—The objections against Christianity
are thus merely what we might have expected. But
further, these objections receive a full answer from
the consideration that Christianity is a scheme im-
perfectly comprehended, in which a system of means
is established, and which is carried on by general
laws ; just as objections against natural religion were
shown to be thus silenced. For this shows that the
things objected to may, in each case, not only be
consistent with wisdom and goodness, but instances
of them.

1. Now Christianity is a scheme quite beyond
our comprehension. It is a mysterious economy,
still carrying on for the recovery of the world by a
divine person, the Messiah, who, after various pre-
paratory dispensations, became incarnate, and died as
a Sacrifice for sin. Parts likewise of this scheme
are the miraculous and ordinary mission of the Holy
Ghost, Christ’s invisible government over his church,
and his second advent to judgment. Now the Secrip-
tures assert this to be a mystery; indeed what is re-
vealed of it, leaves so much unrevealed, that one
cannot read a passage but what it runs up into some-
thing which shows us our ignorance about it; so
that to all purposes of objecting, we know as little
of it, as we know of the vast scheme of the natural
world, where every step shows us our ignorance,
short-sightedness, and incompetence to judge.

2. In the Christian scheme, again, as in the
course of nature, means which appear foolish, though

 
_-
ci

    

STR ————

ET

<

 

Ixii
they may possibly be the very best, are used to ac-
complish ends; and their appearing foolish is no pre-
sumption against them, in a scheme so greatly beyond
our comprehension.

3. Christianity is also probably carried on by
general laws. The course of nature is confessedly
so; and yet we know but little of these general laws.
We know not by what laws storms, famine, pesti-
lence, &c. destroy mankind; nor why men are born
in such places and times, and with such talents; nor
how it is that such and such trains of thought enter
the mind. We therefore call these things acciden-
tal; though all reasonable men believe there is no
such thing as accident. We see but a little way;
and it is only from seeing that the part of the course
of nature which is known to us, is governed by
general laws, that we conclude the whole to be so
governed, though the laws of innumerable things
are unknown to us. In like manner, that miracu-
lous powers should be exerted at such occasions, for
such reasons, before such persons, under such circum-
stances, &c. may have been also by general laws,
though unknown to us, as the laws of the things
above instanced in nature are unknown to us. And
there is no more reason to expect that every exi-
gency as it arises should be provided for by these
general laws, than that every exigency in nature
should.

4. In the next place, let us see the force of the
common objection raised against the whole scheme
of Christianity, as being what some are pleased to
call a round-about way, a perplexed contrivance for
the salvation of the world; as if God was reduced to

 

Ixiii

the necessity of using a long series of intricate means
to accomplish his ends. Now it is obvious, that, in
the course of nature, God uses various means which
we think tedious, to arrive at his ends. Indeed
there is something in this matter quite beyond our
comprehension ; but the mystery is as great in nature
as in Christianity. Perhaps many things which we
call means, may be ends. However, it is clear the
whole natural world is a progressive system, in which
the operation of means takes up a great length of
time. One state of things is a preparation for an-
other, and that state the means of attaining to another
succeeding one. Men are for precipitating things ;
but God in the natural world appears ever delibercro,
reaching his ends by slow steps. The change of
seasons, the ripening the fruits of the earth, the
growth of a flower, the gradual advances of vegetable
and animal bodies, and the progress of knowledge in
men with their growing faculties and powers, are in-
stances of this. Thus, in nature, God operates as
he does in Christianity, by making one thing sub-
servient to another, through a series of ssans which
extends backward and forward beyond our utmost
view. Objections, therefore, against the whole plan
of Christianity, as intricate, and round-about and
perplexed, have no sort of force.

CHapr. V.—This general objection having been
answered, let us next consider the particular one most
urged, namely, that against the mediation of Christ.

1. Now, in the first place, the visible government
of God in nature is carried on by the instrumentalit
and mediation of others, Every comfort of life

 
No

vd

Fe

 

Ixiv

to us in this way. God appoints men as instruments,
that is, mediators of good or evil to us. So that
there is no presumption from analogy against the
general notion of a Mediator.

2. In the next place, it is supposable and credible
that the punishments which God inflicts as a moral
Governor, may be appointed to follow wickedness in
the way of natural consequence ; in a like manner as
a man trifling upon a precipice, in the way of natural
consequence falls down, and, without help, perishes.

3. But it is most important to remark, that, in the
course of natural Providence, provision is made that
all the natural bad consequences of men’s actions
should not always actually follow. We might, in-
deed, presumptuously have thought that the world
would have been so constituted as that there should
not have been any such thing as misery or evil.
But in fact we find that God permits it; but that he
has provided at the same time relief, and in many
cases perfect remeies for it, even for that evil which
would have justly ended in our ruin. If, indeed,
all the consequences of bad conduct had always fol-
lowed, no one could have had a right to object; no
one can say whether such a more severe constitution
of things might not yet have been really good. But
that, instead of this, provision is made by nature to
remedy these consequences, may properly be called
mercy or compassion in the original constitution of
the world, as distinct from goodness in general. It
is agreeable, then, to the whole analogy of nature,
to hope that provision may have been made for re-
medying the natural consequences of vice in God’s
moral government, at least in some cases. There

 

 

Ixv

is a union of severity and indulgence in the course of
nature ; there may possibly also be a union of justice
and ia in the scheme of religion. ;

4. S : : : :

a ea rs pe

g espise all ideas of
future punishment. But as we actually experience
ill consequences from wickedness and folly here, so
the analogy of the cases teaches us to oC
worse evil consequences hereafter, from disorders
committed by moral agents, presumptuously intro-
ducing confusion and misery into the kingdom of
God, their Sovereign Creator. Nay, it is by no
means intuitively certain whether these consequences
could, in the nature of the thing, be prevented, that
1s, consistently with the eternal rule of richt. The
utmost we could hope for is, that there would pro-
bably be some way in God’s universal government
for preventing the penal consequences of vice.

5. Further, it is not probable that any thing we
could do of ourselves would prevent these ill conse-
quences. Ior sorrow and reformation will not of
themselves prevent the natural consequences of our
disorders here, and the assistance of others is often
indispensable to such prevention. The like, then
may be the case under God’s moral government. In
fact, it is contrary to all our notions of government
as well as to the course of nature, to suppose shat
doing well for the future, should always prevent or
remedy the consequences annexed to disobedience.
And though men in the present day boast of the
efficacy of repentance, yet the prevalence of propi-
tiatory sacrifices over the heathen world, shows that
the general sense of mankind is against the idea of
repentance being sufficient to expiate guilt.

 
]
ruta i

 

 

 

Ixvi

6. In this darkness or light of nature, call it
which you please, revelation comes in, teaches us
our state of guilt, confirms every fear as to the future
consequences of sin, declares that God’s government
will not pardon on mere repentance; but that still
his government is compassionate, and that He has
mercifully provided that there should be an interpo-
sition to prevent the utter ruin of man. God so
loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son,
that whosoever believeth in him should not perish :
gave his Son in the same way of goodness to the
world, as he affords to particular persons the friendly
assistance of their fellow-creatures; when, without it,
their temporal ruin would be the certain consequence
of their follies; in the same way of goodness, I say,
though in a transcendent and infinitely higher degree.
And the Son of God loved us and gave himself for
us, with a love which he compares to that of human
friendship; though, in this case, all comparisons must
fall infinitely short of the thing intended to be illus-
trated by them.

7. Now, if the constitution of things had been
such that the whole creation must have perished, but
for somewhat which God had appointed should take
place to prevent that ruin, this supposition would not
be inconsistent, in any degree, with perfect goodness
and compassion, whatever men may object.

8. Nor can men object to the Scriptures as repre-
senting mankind by this whole scheme as in a de-
graded state; for it is not Christianity which has put
us in this state; and all, even moralists, are com-
pelled to acknowledge the extreme wickedness and
misery which are in the world. And the crime of

 

Ixvii

our first parents bringing us into a more disadvantage-
ous condition, is particularly agreeable to all analogy.

9. The particular manner of Christ’s mediation is
by his becoming what the Scripture calls the Prophet
of mankind, to declare the Divine will; the King,
by founding and governing a church; and the High
Priest, by a propitiatory sacrifice; which sacrifice, be
it well noted, is not spoken of merely in allusion to
the Mosaic sacrifices, but as the original and great
sacrifice itself, to which the Mosaic were themselves
only allusions, and of which they were types. The
Scriptures declare in all sorts of ways an efficacy in
what Christ suffered for us beyond mere example or
instruction.

10. Further, as we know not by what means future
punishment would have been inflicted on men, nor all
the reasons why its infliction would have been need-
ful, if it had not been prevented by Christ’s sacrifice ;
it is most evident we are not judges, antecedently to
revelation, whether a Mediator was or was not ne=-
cessary to prevent that punishment; and upon the
supposition of a Mediator, we are not judges before-
hand of what it was fit to be assigned to him to do,
nor of the whole nature of his office. To object,
therefore, to any particular parts of this mediation,
because we do not see the expediency of them, is
absurd. And yet men commonly do this.

11. Again; if men object to the satisfaction of
Christ, that it represents God as indifferent whether
he punishes the innocent or guilty, we answer, that
they might equally object to the daily course of natu-
ral Providence, in which innocent people are con-

tinually forced to suffer for the faults of the guilty,

 
 

 

 

Ixviii

and do suffer for them in various ways; whereas
Christ’s sufferings were undertaken by him volun-
tarily. And though upon the whole, and finally,
every one shall receive according to his deserts, yet
during the progress, and in order to the completion,
of this moral scheme, punishments endured by the
innocent in some way instead of the guilty, that is,
vicarious punishments, may, for aught we know, be
fit and absolutely necessary.

12. Besides, there is an apparent tendency in this
method of our redemption by the sacrifice of Christ,
to vindicate the authority of God’s law, and deter
men from sin.

13. Let not, then, such poor creatures as we are,
object against an infinite scheme, that we do not see
the usefulness and necessity of all its parts. The
presumption of this kind of objections seems alinost
lost in the folly of them.

14. It heightens the absurdity of these objections,
that they are made against those parts of Christ’s
mediation which we are not actively concerned in.
Now the whole analogy of nature teaches us not to
expect the like information concerning the Divine
conduct, as concerning our duty.” The objections
are made, as we have seen, to God’s appointment of
a Mediator, and to the Mediator’s execution of this
office ; not to what is required of man in consequence
of this gracious dispensation, which is plain and ob-
vious, and which is all we need to know. Thus, in
the natural world, it is almost an infinitely small part
of natural Providence which men can understand, and
yet they are sufficiently instructed for the common
purposes of life,

 

 

Ixix

Cuap. VL.—A principal objection against Chris-
tianity, further, is that it is thought to rest on doubt-
ful evidence, and that its benefits are not universal ;
which, in other words, is as much as to say, that God
would not have bestowed upon us any favour at all,
unless in the degree which we imagine best, and that
he could not bestow a favour upon any, unless he
bestowed the same on all—an objection which the
whole analogy of nature contradicts.

1. For how doubtful is the evidence on which
men act in their most important concerns in this
world !—how difficult to balance nice probabilities, to
make due allowances for accidents and disappoint-
ments, to see on which side the reasons preponderate !
How often do strong objections lie against their
schemes, objections which cannot be removed or an-
swered, but yet which seem overbalanced by reasons
on the other side! And how much are men deceived
at last by the falsehood of others, by the false ap-
pearances of things, and the strong bias from within
themselves to favour the deceit! And as to revelation
not being universal, we see the Author of nature
perpetually bestowing those gifts of health, prudence,
knowledge, riches, upon some, which he does not on
others. Yet, notwithstanding these uncertainties and
varieties, God does exercise a natural government
over the world, and there is such a thing as a pru-
dent and imprudent course of conduct.

2. There have been different degrees of evidence
to Jews and Christians. The first Christians had a
higher evidence of miracles than we, and a stronger
presumption in favour of Christianity from the lives
of Christians: and we, or future ages, may have a

 
   

" —

RA

 

 

Ixx

higher evidence of the fulfilment of prophecy. And
the Heathens, Mahommedans, Papists, and Protes-
tants, have now different degrees of evidence of natu-
ral and revealed religion, from the faintest glimmer-
ing of probability, to the clear light of truth and
conviction : but all this most obviously resembles the
constant order of Providence as to our temporal affairs.
And we are to remember, that each one will be
judged at last by what he hath, and not by what he
hath not, so that there is no shadow of injustice in
this constitution of things, though what is the par-
ticular reason of it, we are altogether in the dark
about. We know but little even of our own cases;
scarcely any thing more than is just necessary for
practice.
what would satisfy our curiosity.
light to teach us our duty, and encourage us in the

We are in the greatest ignorance as to

We have only

discharge of it.

3. Besides, if revelation were universal, men’s dif-
ferent understandings, educations, tempers, bodily
constitutions, lengths of lives, external advantages,
would soon make their situation perhaps as widely
different as it is at present.

4. But we may observe more particularly, that
the evidence of religion not appearing certain, may
be the especial trial of some men’s characters and
state of mind. Men may be as much in a state of
probation with regard to the exercise of their under-
standing on the evidence of religion, as they are with
regard to their conduct. The same inward principle
which leads men to obey religion when convinced of
its truth, would lead them to examine it when they

were first presented with its evidences. Negligence

SR et EE

 

Ixxi

about such a serious matter as religion, is as criminal
before distinct conviction, as careless practice is after.
That religious evidence, then, is not forced upon
men, nor intuitively true, but left to be collected by
a heedful attention to premises, may as much consti-
tute religious probation as any thing else.

5. Again, even if Christianity should be supposed
to be extremely doubtful to some persons, yet it puts
them in a state of probation as to character. For
it Christianity be once supposed by them to be pos-
sible, this demands religious suspense, moral resolu-
tion, self-government, inquiry, abstinence from what
would be impediments, readiness to receive fresh
light, care of what use they make of their influence
and example upon others. For doubting is not a
positive argument against religion, but for it; a doubt
pre-supposes a lower degree of evidence, just as much
as belief’ does a higher. And in proportion to the
corruption of the heart, men acknowledge no evi-
dence, however real, if it be not overbearing.

6. The difficulties which are said to be found in
the evidence of Christianity, is no more a ground of
complaint, than difficulties from external temptation
as to the practice of it. Such speculative difficulties
may, to persons of a deep sense, and reflecting minds,
and who have small temptations to gross outward
sins, constitute the principal part of their trial. For
we see, in the things of this world, that the chief
trial of some men is not so much the doing what is
right when it is known, as the attention, suspense,
care, the beirg on their guard against false appear-
ances, the weighing of contrary reasons, and inform-
ing themselves of what is really prudent.

 
 

 

 

Ixxii

7. In these remarks, we have taken it for granted
that men are not neglecting the subject of religion
altogether, nor entertaining prejudices against it.
For if they never examine it in earnest, if they wish
it not to be true, if they attend more to objections
than to evidence, if they consider things with levity,
if they indulge in ridicule, and put human errors in
the place of Divine truth—all this will hinder men
from seeing evidence, just as a like turn of mind hin-
ders them from weighing evidence in their temporal
capacities. And possibly the evidence of Chris-
tianity was left, so as that those who are desirous of
evading moral obligation should not see it, whilst fair
and candid persons should.

8. I‘urther, the evidences of Christianity, as they
are, may be sufficiently understood by common men,
if they will only pay the same sort of attention to
religion which they pay to their temporal affairs.
But if men will handle objections which they have
picked up, and discuss them without the necessary
preparation of general knowledge, they must remain
in ignorance or doubt, just as men who neglect the
means of information in common life do.

9. But, perhaps, it will be said, that a prince
would take care to give directions to a servant which
would be impossible to be misunderstood or disputed.
To this we answer, that it is certain we cannot argue
thus as to God, because in point of fact he does not
afford us such information as to our temporal affairs,
as a matter of course, without care of our own. And
if a prince wished not merely to have certain acts

done, but also to prove the loyalty and obedience of

his servant, he might not always give his directions
in the plainest possible manner.

a.

i
i

 

Ix xiii
On the whole, the analogy of nature refutes all

objections against Christianity as resting upon doubt-
ful evidence, ‘and as not universal.

Cuar. VII.—The objections against the parti-
cular scheme of Christianity being removed, it re-
mains that we consider what the analogy of nature
suggests as to the positive evidence for it, and as to
the objections raised against that evidence.

Now, the evidence of Christianity embraces a long
series of things, reaching from the beginning of the
world to the present time, of great variety and com-
pass, and making up one argument, the conviction
arising from which is like what we call effect in
architecture, a result from a great number of things,
so and so disposed, and taken into one view ; and
this is the kind of proof on which we determine ques-
tions of difficulty, in our most important affairs in
this world.

Let us then, 1st, consider the direct proof of Chris-
tianity, from Miracles and Prophecy ; and then, 2d,
the general argument arising from this proof, to-
gether with many collateral things, as making up one
argument.

I. 1. The Scriptures of the Old and New Tes-
tament afford us the same evidence of the miracles
wrought in attestation of revelation, as it does of its
ordinary history; for these miracles are not foisted
into it, but form a part of it, and are related in the
same unadorned manner as the rest of the narrative,
and stand on the same footing of historical evidence.
And some parts of Scripture, containing the account
of miracles, are quoted as genuine from the very age

D 17

 
 

 

 

xxiv

in which they were said to have been written. And
the establishment of the Jewish and Christian reli-
gions are just what might have been expected, if such
miracles were wrought, and can be accounted for on
no other supposition. The Scripture history, then,
must be considered as genuine, unless something posi-
tive can be alleged to invalidate it. Mere guesses
can prove nothing against historical evidence.
Further, the Epistles of St. Paul, being addressed
to particular churches, carry in them a greater evi-
dence of being genuine, than if they had been merely
narratives addressed to the world at large. And the
first epistle to the Corinthians is quoted by Clemens
Romanus, a contemporary, in a letter to the same
church. And St. Paul mentions, in this epistle, the
miraculous gifts, as possessed by the very Christians
to whom he wrote; and he mentions them inciden-
tally, and in order to depreciate them, and to reprove
the abuse of them. He speaks of them in the
manner any one would speak of a thing familiar, and
known to the persons he is writing to. Against
this evidence, general doubts have no force: because
any fact of such a kind, and of such antiquity, may
have general doubts thrown out concerning it, from
the very nature of human affairs and human testi-
mony.
Again, Christianity presented itself to mankind
at first, and was received, on the footing of these
miracles, at the time when they were wrought ; which
is the case with no other religion. Mahommedan-
ism was propagated by the sword; and Popish and
Mahommedan miracles, said to be wrought after
parties were formed, and when power and political
interests supported them, are easily accounted for.

4
:
i

 

Ixxv

apn of such a doctrine as
: g such a total change of life
by such vast numbers, can only be accounted for
on the supposition of their belief in the Christi :
miracles, which they were fully competent to i
of as matters of fact. For, credulous as hoi
are, they are suspicious, and backward to believe and
act against their prejudices, passions, and temporal
et and education, prejudice, power, Et
aws, authority, were all then agai Sy,
Enthusiasm, indeed, may ae
and to zeal in support of them. But there fo iy
difference between opinions and facts; and ross >
though no proof of enthusiastic opinions, yet is x
lowed, in all cases, to be a proof of facts i ni Hare
1s no appearance of enthusiasm in the conduct of re
apostles and first Christians, but quite the tts.
And if great numbers of men of plain anderstandin
affirm, that they saw and heard such and such th; e
with their eyes and ears, such testimony is the str
est evidence we can have for any Yhsiter of =
The De gs charge of enthusiasm, in such a
: However, as religion is supposed to be peculiarly
liable to enthusiasm, let us observe that Re
romance, affectation, humour, party spirit i
little competitions, &ec. influence men in rh Ee
tots just as enthusiasm may do; and yet ey
testimony, in common matters, is believed nd acted
os ER The fact is, mankind have un-
amiga
egard to truth
in what they say, except when prejudiced, biassed,
D2

 
 

 

Ixxvi

or deceived. And, therefore, human testimony re-
mains a natural ground of assent, and this assent a
natural principle of action, notwithstanding all the
error and dishonesty which are in the world. People,
therefore, do not know what they say, when they
ysretend that enthusiasm destroys the evidence for
the truth of Christianity. It never can be sufficient
to overthrow direct historical testimony, indolently to
say, Men are so apt to deceive and be deceived in
religion, that we know not what to believe. All
analogy shows, that men do not thus act in their

temporal affairs.

Besides, the vast importance of Christianity, and
the strong obligations to veracity which it enjoins,
strengthen the presumption, that the Apostles could
hot either intend to deceive others, or be deceived
themselves. The proof from miracles, therefore,
remains untouched ; for there is no testimony what-
ever contradicting it, and strong historical testimony
in its favour.

2. As to the evidence from prophecy, a few re-
marks may be made. If some parts of it are ob-
secure, this does not lessen the proof of foresight
from the fulfilment of those parts which are clear.
Thus, in a writing, if part of it were in cyphers, and
other parts in words at length, and if, in the parts
rstood, many known facts were related ; no one
would imagine, that if he could make out the part in
cypher, he should find that the writer did not know
the plain facts which he had related.

Again, if, from the deficiency in civil history, we
cannot make out the minute fulfilment of every pro-
phecy, yet a very strong proof of foresight may arise

unde

  

 

 

  

Ixxvii

from a general completion of prophecy, as illustrated
by civil history; perhaps as much, proof as God in-
tended should be afforded by such prophecy.

I urther, if a long series of prophecy is naturally
applicable to such and such events, this is, of itself,
3 presumptive proof that it was intended of my
I'hus, in mythological and satirical writings, we con-
clude that we understand their concealed eaH nz
in proportion to the number of particulars clearly hoa
plicable in such and such a manner. o

; Add to this, that the Jews applied the prophecies
of Christ to the Messiah before his coming, in atadh
the same manner as Christians do now; od the pri-
mitive Christians, those of the state of the La
and of the world, in the last ages, in much the ie
way as we do now, and as the event seems to verify
This is important. >

Nor is it any argument against all this, if we sup-
pose the prophets to have applied some of those pro-
phecies, at the time, to other immediate events De
they were only amanuenses, not the original notion
of their predictions; that is, they ere] wrote
Hishets moved by the Holy Ghost. ’ i

nu ) ;
TI EIN ie

: e to satisfy our-
selves on every point. It is, indeed, very easy to
determine at once with a decisive air, and say, There
is nothing in it :—and this sults the presum io and
wilfulness of men. But the true proof a
and fairness is to say, There is certainly Te
% it; and it shall have influence upon us in propor
lon to its apparent reality ar i i

all analogy i to be Te A a) i
urse.

 
 

Si]
i —— nT
ep MR

om

AR

Ts FRR

_

 

Ixxviii

II. Let us now consider this direct evidence of
miracles and prophecy, in connection with those cir-
cumstantial and collateral proofs, which go to make
up one argument. For thus, in daily life, we judge
of things by evidence arising from various coinci-
dences, which confirm each other. And though
each of these things, separately, may have little
weight, yet when they are considered together, and
united in one view, they may have the greatest.
The proof of revelation is not some direct and express
things only, but a great variety of circumstantial
things also, in the result of which the proper force
of the evidence consists.

1. Now revelation may be considered as wholly
historical ; for prophecy is anticipated history, and
doctrines and precepts may be viewed as matters of
fact. The general design of this history, is to give
us an account of the world, in this one single view,
as God’s world; and by this it is essentially distin-
guished from all other books. After the history of
the creation, it gives an account of the world in this
view, during that state of apostacy and wickedness
which it represents mankind to lie in. It considers
the common affairs of men as a scene of distraction,
and only refers to them as they affect religion.

9. This narrative, comprehending a period of

nearly 6000 years, gives the utmost scope for objec-
tions against it; from eason, common history, or any
inconsistency in its parts. And undoubtedly it
must, and would have been confuted, if it had been
false, as all false religions have been over and over
again; and, therefore, that it has not been confuted,
nor pretended to have been confuted, during the

 

Hr Rit et ge
Sehr

Ixxix

lapse of so many ages, implies a positive argument
that it is true.

3. Further, the Scriptures contain a particular
history of the Jews, God’s peculiar people—the
promises of the Messiah, as a Saviour for Jews and
Gentiles—the narrative of the birth of this Messiah,
at the time foretold—and of the propagation of his
religion—and of his being rejected by the Jewish
people.

4. Let us now suppose a person to read the
Scriptures thoroughly, and remark these and other
historical facts contained in them, without knowing
whether it was a real revelation from Heaven or not.
Then let this person be told to look out into the
world, and observe if the state of things seem at all
to correspond with these facts. Let him be in-
formed how much of natural religion was owing to
this book, and how many nations received it as di-
vine, and under what circumstances. Then let him
consider of what importance religion is to mankind:
and he would see that this supposed revelation hav-
ing had this influence, and having been received in
the world as it was, is the most conspicuous event in
the history of mankind; and that a book thus re-
commended demands his attention as by a voice from
Heaven.

5. Let such a person be next informed, that the
history and chronology of this book is not contra-
dicted, but confirmed, by profane history—that the
narrative contains all the internal marks of truth and
simplicity—and that the New Testament in particu-
lar, is confirmed in all its chief facts by heathen
authors—and that this credibility of the common

 
 

 

 

Ixxx

history in Scripture, gives some credibility to its
miracles, as they are interwoven and make up one
narrative.

6. Let him next be told that there was such a
nation as the Jews, whose existence depended on the
law said, in this book, to have been given them by
Moses—that at the time when the prophecies had
led this people to expect the Messiah, one claiming
to be the Messiah appeared, and was rejected by
them, as foretold—that the religion was received by
the Gentiles on the authority of miracles, and that
the Jews remain as a separate people to this present
day, which seems to look forward to other prophecies
of their future conversion.

Let him, I say, first gather his knowledge en-
tirely from Scripture, and then compare it fact by
fact with the corresponding history of the world:
and the joint view must appear to him most surpris-
ing.

7. All these points make up an argument from
their united, not separated, force. Then add te
these, the appearances of the world, as answering
still to the prophetic history and numerous other
particulars, and the result of the whole must be al-
lowed to be of the greatest weight.

8. Then we should remember, that a mistake in
rejecting Christianity, is much more dangerous in
its consequences than one in favour of it; and that
in temporal affairs, we always consider which side is
most safe.

9. We should also bear in mind that the truth
of Christianity is proved, like that of any common
event, not only if any one of the points adduced

on EEA

Ry

#4

5

 

 

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
     

Ixxxi

clearly imply it, but if the whole taken together do,
though no one singly should. No one who is seri-
ous, can possibly think these things to be of little
weight, if he consider the importance of collateral
things, and less circumstances, in the evidence of
probability, as distinguished in nature from the evi-
dence of demonstration.

10. It should be just observed, that the nature of
this evidence gives a great advantage to persons who
choose to attack Christianity in a short, lively man-
ner in conversation; because an objection against
particular points is casily shown, whereas the united
force of the whole argument requires much time
and thought.

Cuap. VIII.—Lastly, some persons may object
to this whole argument, from the analogy of nature,
and say, It is a poor thing to solve difficulties in re-
velation, by asserting that there are like difficulties
in natural religion.

1. Now men’s wanting to have all difficulties
cleared in revelation, is the same, for any thing they
know, as requiring to comprehend the divine nature.
And it is no otherwise a poor thing to argue from
natural to revealed religion, than it is a poor thing
for a physician to have so little knowledge in the
cure of diseases; which is yet much better than hav-
ing no skill at all. Indeed, the epithet poor, may
be applied as properly to the whole of human life.

Further, it is unreasonable for men to urge ob-
jections against Christianity which are of equal
weight against natural religion, whilst they profess

D3

 
 

 

 

 

  
 
 
 
 
 

   

Ixxx1i

to admit the truth of natural religion. This is un-
fair dealing.

2. But again, religion is a practical thing, and if
men have the like reason to believe the truth of it,
as they have in what they. do in their temporal affairs,
then they are so much the more bound to act on it,
as the interest is infinitely greater. This is plainly
unanswerable. If they believe that taking care of
their temporal interest will be for their advantage,
then there is equal reason for believing, that obeying
Christianity, and taking care of their future interests,
will be for their advantage. It is according to the
conduct and character of the Author of nature, that
we should act upon such probable evidence. All
analogy clearly shows this. 4

3. The design of the Analogical argument is not
to vindicate the character of God, but to show the
obligations of men. Nor is it necessary to prove the
reasonableness of every thing enjoined us in Chris-
tianity ; the r .asonableness of the practice of our
duty is enough. And though analogy does not pre-
tend immediately to answer objections against the
wisdom and goodness of the doctrines and precepts
of Christianity, yet it does this indirectly, by showing
that the things objected against are not incredible.

4. It is readily acknowledged, that this treatise is
not what is called satisfactory—very far from it—
but then no natural institution of life would appear
so, if reduced into a system together with its proof.
The unsatisfactory evidence with which we put up
in common life, is not to be expressed. Yet men
do not throw away life on account of this doubtful-
ness. And religion presupposes, in all who would

 

as

sels

 

 

Ixxxiit

embrace it, some integrity and honesty, a willingness
to follow the probability of things; just as speaking
to a man supposes him to understand the language
in which you speak. The question then is, not
whether the evidence of Christianity be what is called
satisfactory, but whether it be sufficient to prove and
discipline that virtue and integrity of mind which it
presupposes, though it be not sufficient to remove
every objection, or gratify curiosity.

5. As to the little influence which this whole ar-
gument may actually have on men, which is made an
objection to it, the true question is, not how men will
actually behave, but how they ought to behave. It
is no objection to this argument, that it may fail of
convincing men. Religion, as a probation, has its
end on all to whom it has been proposed with suffi-
cient evidence, let them behave as they will concern-
ing it.

On the whole, the proof of Christianity is greatly
strengthened by these considerations from analogy ;
though it is easy to cavil at them, and to object that
they are not demonstrative, which it was never pre-
tended they were, nor could be. They are of the
nature of probable arguments; but then they are so
forcible and just, that it is impossible to answer them,
or evade them fairly.

CoxcLusioN.—In this treatise we have con-
sidered Christianity as a matter of fact merely, and
have argued with unbelievers on their own ground.
We have, therefore, neither argued from the liberty
of man, nor from the moral fitness of things; both of
which would have strengthened my argument, and

 
 
   

Ixxxiv

both of which we believe to be true. But we have
taken up things on the lowest ground, and given
every advantage we could to our adversary.

In the first part, a view has been given of natural
religion, and the chief difficulties concerning this
have been answered by the analogy of God’s govern-
ment of the universe. Thus, the objections against
a future life of moral and righteous retribution,
wherein God will reward or punish men according to
their behaviour here, and for which this world is a
state of discipline and preparation, have been silenced
or refuted; and the general notion of religion has
been shown to be throughout agreeable to the obvious
coprse of things in this present world.

For, indeed, natural religion carries in it much
evidence of truth, on barely being proposed to our
thoughts. To an unprejudiced mind, ten thousand
thousand instances of design, cannot but prove a De-
signer. And itis intuitively manifest, that creatures
ought to live under a dutiful sense of their Maker;
and that justice and charity must be his laws, to crea-
tures such as we are, whom he has formed social, and
placed in society. The neglect, therefore, of men
towards it, must arise from objections against all re-
ligion generally ; which objections have been met in
the first part of this work. Natural religion has
been there cleared of its difficulties, and its credi-
bility shown.

In the second part, the particular scheme of Chris-
tianity has been considered ; and the objections against
its importance, against the miracles on which its evi-
dence rests, and against its provision of a Mediator,
have been proved to be invalid. The difficulties

 

 

Ixxxv

raised concerning it, because it is not universal, and
because its evidence is not overbearing, have also
been removed. Some observations have, lastly, been
made on the objections to the special evidences of
Christianity ; as consisting of miracles, prophecies,
and a great many other collateral circumstances
united in one argument.
Thus we have endeavoured to strengthen the evi-
dences of Christianity to those who believe it to be
true; and to show its probability to those who do not
believe it. The treatise is especially addressed to
those who imagine, that the evidences of natural and
revealed religion, if true, would have been stronger
than they are, or irresistible; and who think, that
doubting about Christianity is in a manner the same
thing as being certain against it. If these persons
are not willing to weigh seriously the force of the
analogical arguments we have produced, but will still
go on to disregard and vilify Christianity, there is
no reason to think they would alter their behaviour
to ny fuse though there were a demonstration,
instead of what there is, a hig ili
moral certainty of its wruth. on

Such are the chief steps in the reasoning of
. . - ©
Bishop Butler, in this great work.

Having thus given a general draught of the main
argument, as well as of the particular reasoning of
the Analogy, we come to the second general division
of this Iissay, and offer, as was proposed, some ob-
servations on THE CONNECTION OF THIS ARGUMENT
WITH THE OTHER BRANCHES OF THE CHRISTIAN

 
Ixxxvi

EVIDENCE, AND ON ITS PECULIAR USE AND IMPOR-
TANCE; AND ALSO ON OUR AUTHOR’S VIEW OF
PRACTICAL CHRISTIANITY, AND ON THE ADAPTA-
TION OF HIS ARGUMENT TO THE CHRISTIAN RELI-
GION IN ALL ITS EXTENT.

1. We begin with the connection of the Analogical
argument with the other branches of the Christian
evidence, and on its peculiar use and importance.
For the argument from analogy does not stand alone.
It is rather the completion, and, as it were, the
crown of all the other evidences for the truth of
Christianity. It comes in to remove objections after
the usual proofs have been admitted. For the Ex-
TERNAL, the INTERNAL, and what I may call the
ANALoGICAL Evidences of Christianity, are three
distinct divisions of one great argument. THE EX-
TERNAL EVIDENCES are those which should be first
studied. Indeed they are the only ones that can
be considered in the first instance as essential; be-
cause they undertake to show the credentials of the
messenger who professes to come with a revelation
from heaven. Christianity claims a divine origin.
I have therefore a right, indeed I am bound, soberly
and impartially to inquire what proofs she brings of
this high claim. And when she refers me to the

Holy Scriptures as containing all her records, I have
a right to ask what evidence there is of the genuine-
ness and authenticity of these books, and what foot-

ing they place the religion upon, which they wish to
inculcate on mankind. The answer to all these
questions is found in what we call the External Evi-
dences of Christianity. These show the acknow-
ledged facts on which the religion rests. They

 

 

Ixxxvii

prove ‘that the books were written by the persons
whose names they bear, and do contain a true and
credible history. They prove that the revelation
itself was founded on unequivocal and numerous mira-
cles; that it was accompanied (as it is accompanied
still) with the distinct fulfilment of an amazing scheme
of prophecy, embracing all the chief events of the
world; and that it was propagated in the face of
opposition and difficulty with a triumphant success,
which nothing but the hand of God could have
effected. These evidences also show the positive
good effects produced by this heavenly doctrine, and
which are still being produced, in the melioration of
society, and the advancement of human happiness
and virtue in all the nations where it has been re-
ceived. "We have no right to go further than this
in the first place. The moment the messenger is
sufficiently proved to have divine credentials, we have
but one duty left, that of receiving and obeying his
message, that of reading and meditating on the re-
velation itself, in order to conform ourselves to it
with devout and cheerful submission. We have no
right at all to examine the nature of the discoveries
or doctrines, or precepts of Christianity, with the
view of determining whether they seem to us hecom-
ing the wisdom of God, and agreeable to the reason
of man. It is proved that the revelation is from
heaven. This is enough. The infinitely glorious
Creator and Sovereign of the universe has tull power
to do what he will with his own, and to lay down
laws for his creatures. We have no business, strictl
speaking, with the contents and tenor of these laws
except to understand them and obey them. ’

 
 

 

Ixxxviil

Great mischief has been done to the Christian
cause by taking another method. Men have allowed
themselves to be entangled with discussions on the
possibility and credibility of a revelation being given
to man, on the nature and tendency of the Christian
doctrine, on the reasonableness of its particular in-
junctions—questions every one of them out of place
in examining the evidence of a divine religion. Let
it fairly be made out to come from God, and it is
enough. More than this is injurious. We are
sure, indeed, that the contents of it must be most
worthy of its perfect Author; but we are no adequate
judges of what is worthy or what is not worthy of
an infinite Being. We have no right to call the
Almighty Creator to the bar of our feeble reason,
and suspend obedience to his commands on the de-
termination whether those commands are in our

r 3 : - -
opinion just and good or not. To receive a revela-

tion on the ground of its proper credentials, and then
to trace out with reverence the wisdom and goodness
of its contents, is one thing; but to sit in judgment
on those contents previously to an examination of its
credentials, and in order to decide whether we shall
receive the professed revelation or not, is quite an-
other. "We are competent to understand the simple
and commanding language of the Almighty, attesting
by miracles and prophecy, and the extraordinary pro-
pagation of the gospel and its visible good effects on
mankind, the truth of a supernatural revelation ; and
et are no competent judges whatever of the particular
things the Almighty may see fit to communicate in
that revelation. Evidences are level to a candid
and fair understanding ; divine doctrines may not be

 

 

Ixxxix

so. Evidences are addressed to man’s reason, and
warrant the modest exercise of it; doctrines are
addressed to faith, and demand not discussion, but
obedience.

The danger of acting in the way which I am now
venturing to condemn, is greater, because the door
being once opened to such reasoning, it is quite
certain that the minds of men will too often employ
it amiss. The infidel is the person just the least
capable to act aright in such a case. The pious
well-trained judgment of a sincere Christian, might
indeed form a better estimate of the internal char-
acter of a revelation from heaven: but the unsub-
dued mind of an unbeliever can only come to a wrong
decision upon it. He wants all the preparation ne-
cessary.

But although the External proofs of Christianity
are thus all that, in the first examination, is required,
yet the INTERNAL EVIDENCES may afterwards be
profitably, most profitably studied. Christianity
shrinks from no scrutiny. She courts the light.
When the outward credentials of the heavenly mes-
senger have once been investigated, and the message
been received on this its proper footing; then if it
be asked, whether the contents of the revelation
seem to confirm the proof of its divine original;
whether the sincere believer will find them adapted
to his wants ; whether the morals inculcated, the end
proposed, the means enjoined, are agreeable to man’s
best reason and the dictates of an enlightened under-
standing and conscience; whether the character of
Christ be worthy of his religion; whether the in-
fluence of grace, said to accompany Christianity, may

 
 

XC

be obtained by prayer; whether the lives and deaths
of Christians, as compared with those of professed In-
fidels, illustrate the excellency of their faith ; whether,
in short, the promises and blessings of Christianity
are verified in those who make a trial of them, by
submitting to the means appointed for their attain-
ment : when such questions are put with candour,
by those who have embraced Christianity, we answer
them by referring to the Internal evidences of Reve-
lation. These Internal evidences are now our appro-
priate study. They show us the adaptation of the
religion to the situation and wants of man; the purity
and sublimity of its doctrines and precepts; the char-
acter of its Founder; the sanctifying and consoling
effect of the influence which accompanies it; the holy
lives and happy deaths of its genuine followers; and
the trial which every one may make of its promises
and blessings, by fulfilling the terms on which they
are proposed. Each of these topics admits of large
illustration. The whole of the Internal evidences
form an argument in favour of Christianity, as com-
plete and satisfactory in its particular province, as
the whole of the External. Indeed they are, in
some respects, more persuasive, though they come
after them and are secondary to them. The Exter-
nal evidences enforce conviction, the Internal induce
to love. The External bring to light the potent
remedy, the Internal apply it to the sufferer, and
produce the actual cure. The first require an exer-
cise of the understanding on plain facts stated, the
second the submission of the affections to a benefit
conferred. By the one we know religion to be true,

by the other we feel it to be good. The External

 

XCl

evidences awaken attention to a new doctrine, the
Internal attract the heart to an incalculable blessing.

Accordingly, no class of persons is excluded from
that conviction of the truth of Christianity which
springs from a perception of its effects in themselves
and others. The external evidences indeed are
simple as they are majestic; but to the unpractised
and uneducated mind, they necessarily lose much of
their force. The great body of mankind must be
indebted to their instructors in a large measure, for
their faith in the historical evidences of religion ; but
they can feel it in its sacred fruits as keenly, and
perhaps even more keenly, than any other descrip-
tion of persons. They are incapable of following a
train of reasoning, or of judging of distant and re-
mote facts; but they are quite capable of perceiving
the blessedness of obeying Christianity, and of re-
lying on its promises. Thus a source of faith is
opened to them, abundant in proportion as they ad-
vance in piety and virtue. And though, as we have
already observed, the unbeliever has no right to sit
in judgment on the internal character of Christianity,
but should, and must, in all reason, be contented at
first with the proper external evidences that it really
comes from God; yet when he has once received
the Christian doctrine aright, and has begun to be
moulded into its form, and take its impression, he
will discover to his surprise new traces of a divine
hand daily in all its parts, he will feel that it is salu-
tary in all its doctrines and in all its precepts, in all
its bearings and all its tendencies, in all its disco-
veries and declarations, in all its effects and fruits.
Like the light of the sun, it will speak its author

 
xcil

and source. The confirmation which the faith of the
sincere believer thus receives is indescribable. He
has now entered the temple, of which he had before
surveyed, from without, the proportions and magnifi-
cence. He has now partaken of the feast, of which
he had before heard the tidings and listened to the
invitation. He has now experienced the skill and
tenderness of the Physician, of whose fame and powers
he had before been convinced only by testimony. He
has now shared the unspeakable gift which had before
been offered to him. He was well persuaded, on
first embracing Christianity on its due external au-
thority, that every thing taught by it would be found
most agreeable to the attributes and glory of its divine
Author. But he has now a conviction resulting from
the benefits conferred, of a kind higher in its degree,
and more consoling in its effects, than any external
proof could communicate, and which, though inca-
pable of being known, from the nature of the case,
previously to experience, yet, when once known,
sways and bears away the heart.

The two branches of evidence thus concurring to
one result—the Ixternal proving the truth of the
messenger, and the Internal confirming afterwards
that truth by an experience of the excellency and
suitableness of the message itself—the Christian be-
liever has a continually growing conviction of the
firm grounds of his faith.

He is now prepared for considering, to the best
advantage, the third branch of the evidences in favour
of Christianity—that arising from THE ANALOGY
BETWEEN THIS RELIGION, AND THE CONSTITUTION
AND COURSE OF NATURE, This brings us to the

 

xciii

immediate subject of Butlers treatise, of which we
have already given a review. We have no right,
indeed, (for the idea is too important not to be re-
peated,) to call for this species of proof, any more
than we have a right to call, in the first instance, for
an examination of the internal character of Chris-
tianity, or rather to call for it at all. All we have
any fair right to ask for, is the credentials of the
ambassador who professes to come to us in the name
of our absent, though ever-present, Sovereign and
Lord. It is perfectly true, that the analogy of
nature, as formed by the same hand, will have traces
of the same system and scheme as Christianity, just
as it is true, that a revelation from heaven will pos-
sess every internal mark of holiness and goodness
and truth; but we have no right to stop, and pretend
to follow out all these matters, before we receive the
Christian doctrine as divine. Christianity does not
submit to plead at such a bar. The capacity of
receiving advantage from these auxiliary evidences,
depends on our first admitting, on the plain grounds
of its miracles, and prophecies, and propagation, and
mighty effects, the truth of the revelation by which
these additional proofs are to be created and com-
municated, and without which they cannot be em-
ployed to any purpose.

Still, after we have sincerely embraced the gospel,
we may humbly inquire, whether the difficulties which

are raised against it by unbelievers, or which occur
to our own minds, may be relieved by an appeal to
the works of God in nature, and his order and govern-
ment therein. This is the argument from Analogy,
which rises still a step above the two preceding

 
XClV

branches of the subject, not as in itself necessary to
the first reception of Christianity, but as furnishing
the subsequent confirmation of it, and removing scru-
ples and objections arising from the ignorance and
presumption of man. It is, indeed, a glorious thing
thus to discern the harmony between Christianity,
the greatest of the Almighty’s works, and all the
other known productions of the same divine Archi-
tect. To see that the natural and moral govern-
ment of God are parts of one stupendous whole,
sums up, and finishes, and absolves the subject. No-
thing more can be said. All is, what we might be
sure it would be, complete and adequate. The force
of External evidences is to compel assent ; the effect

of the Internal to produce love; the chief efficacy of

the Analogical to silence objections. By the first,
a message is proved to come from heaven; by the se-
cond, the salutary effects of this message are felt and
understood ; by the third, it is shown to be, in itself,
most agreeable to all the known dispensations of the
divine Author. The first is the proper evidence
which such a case indispensably demands; the next
confirms, by actual experience, this satisfactory ground
of belief; the last excludes all contradictory asser-

tions, and creates a silence and repose of mind, when’

objections are urged by others, or arise in our own
thoughts. External evidences, by their simple ma-
jesty, address the reason of mankind, and overwhelm
objections and surmises ; Internal, by the influences
of truth on the heart, indispose men to listen to
those objections ; Analogical, by showing that such
objections lie equally against the constitution and
course of nature, deprive them of all their force,

XCv

and turn them into proofs of divine goodness and
power.

In thus assigning to the three branches of evidence

a particular position, we are far from insinuating that

they may not be considered in a different order. We

merely wish to claim for the external evidences the

rank to which they are entitled in fair arcument
and to protest against the additional and sation
evidences being improperly resorted to, in the first
instance, to the neglect of the palpable credentials
of the Christian message. To maintain this is a
matter of real moment. It places the various branches
of the inquiry in their true and natural light.
Still we object not to any part of them being sepa-
rately considered, according to the disposition, age
talents, information, and circumstances of men. The
Christian evidence in each division, and each sub-
division of it, is so clear and convincing to a fair and
sincere Inquirer, as to admit of a distinct discussion
and exhibition, if it be conducted with good faith.
But if men wish to seize what seems to them a feeble
part of the Internal or Analogical argument, and
press this out of its place, disregarding the plain and
direct proofs of Christianity from miracles, pro-
phecy, &ec. we then recall them to the consideration
of the real state of the argument. We tell them
they are no adequate judges of what a divine revela-
tion should contain. We appeal to the proper and
unanswerable proofs of a divine religion, in the ex-
traordinary manifestations of Almighty God in its
favour. And we bid them postpone the examina-
tion of the subsidiary evidences, till they have
weighed the primary ones, and received the religion

 
 

Xcvi
which they attest. Thus to a serious candid mind,
we are willing to open at once any part of the wide
subject of the evidences of Christianity ; whilst to a
captious and unreasonable inquirer, we propose the
strict rules of debate, and demand the orderly ex-
amination of the credentials of the religion.

If, however, after all, men will unreasonably de-
mand an exposition of the internal character of
Christianity in the first place, or will dwell on ob-
jections raised against its particular constitution, we
descend on the ground they have chosen, and with-
out relinquishing our right to assume a higher posi-
tion and to insist only on the direct proofs of it, we
meet them where they stand, and show them the in-
ward excellency of our religion from the Internal
evidences, or the weakness and inconclusiveness of
their objections from the Analogical. Thus Chris-
tianity stoops, so far as it can, to the fancies of men,
and argues with them on their own principles. This
is particularly the case with the evidence from ana-
logy.

It is indeed one of the most valuable branches of
the whole Christian argument, because objections are
the ground commonly taken by unbelievers. For
weak and inconclusive as these objections are, they
are sufficient, when listened to, to steel the heart
against the force of truth, and bar up the first en-
trance to the Christian doctrine. The young and
inexperienced are thus gradually seduced and har-
dened. It is not that men have found out that the

External evidences of Christianity are insufficient,
for they have never studied them-—it is not that
they have discovered the fallacy of the Internal evi-

 

Xcvil

dences, for they have never been in a situation to
judge of them. But they have heard bold thing
flippantly said against Christianity : things which
they were not sufficiently informed on the sohioct to
answer ; these have sunk into their and
acquired force by lapse of time; and thus their mili
became gradually tainted and poisoned.
sions, Impatient of the re
aided the delusion.
bitious of forsaking
the flattering tale.

Their pas-
1¢ restraints of Christianity,

Their pride of intellect, am-
the common track, listened to

I I

attracted them onwards. Ridicule, unanswerabl
ridicule, came in to their overthron. The oe '
novelty was not without its force. The had 4
inclination to the patient inquiry which Th a SA

ject as religion demands; whereas an objection was
seized at once. Thus, insensibly, the Fitter
of a pious education were effaced, and the unha
youth entered on the mazes of infidelity, and i
at last, to scoff at the very religion which he ”
reverenced, if he did not obey
; Here, then, the
of the greatest service. ©~ We insist not with such
youth, on an examination of the External evide :
of religion, to which we see he would not te
ad Wwe come at once to his objections. We i
bi he pea of the preceding treatise, that
may pect to find the same sort of charac.
ter in a revelation, proceeding from the Author of
nature, as is found in the constitution and order of
nature itself; that our ignorance, with respect to
tural things, is such, that we cannot wo on o tn
g a single

E 17

argument from Analogy may be

 
XCViil

step, except as facts and experiments lead us by the
hand ; and, that as this ignorance is the proper BsNOr
to presumptions and difficulties, derived fo Oat
opinion of things beforehand, so is this much more
the case in religion, where we find only the same
kind of difficulties which meet us perpetually in the
works of the same hand in the course of nature. So
that, in short, he that rejects Christianity, on ac-
count of these difficulties, may, for the very same
reason, deny the world to have been formed by =
intelligent Creator. Thus all objections ees t bo
Scriptures, drawn from what is similar or analogous
in the order of the world, which is acknowledged by
the objector himself to proceed from an A igs
Governor, are satisfactorily silenced ; and the mind,
freed from harassing and frivolous objections, Js at
liberty to weigh impartially the direct proof of hr
tianity, and then to seek the best confirmation of a
wavering faith, in its salutary effects in pies
guilt, tranquillizing conscience, subduing pride, Lig
gulating the affections and appetites, and changing
the whole character from that of a discontented, cap-
tious, selfish creature, to that of a patient, docile,

enevolent one. |
i the several branches of the Evidences of
Christianity are ultimately studied, though not jo
the order which the strict rules of the case would ii
down. The great object is gained if the unbeliever
is convinced ; but if, on the contrary, he refuses Bp
listen to our argument from analogy, or professes
himself dissatisfied with it, we are still at liberty to
remind him, that the only proofs which he can clain
in the first instance, are the direct and proper cre-

XCIX

dentials of miracles and prophecy,

and other exter-
nal evidences;

and that his paramount duty is to
submit to the revelation thus attested, and not yield
to objections and difficulties resting on mere concep-
tions and opinions,
But the use and importance of the argument from
analogy may be frequently observed in the case of
the sincere Christian. How often is the thought-
ful believer harassed by objections! The best men
are still weak and defective ; and notwithstanding the
clearest deductions of reason, and the avowed sub-
jection of the heart to the gospel, doubts, and em-
barrassments, and apprehensions, will haunt the
mind. ~~ There are few who have not felt this. The
imagination roves on forbidden topics—thoughts the
most unwelcome intrude—arguments fail to satisfy
—exploded objections recur. Especially if circum-
stances require a Christian to treat with infidels, and
examme and refute their arguments, the infirmity of
his faith will sometimes be an occasion of surprise
and distress to him. In such seasons, no source of
relief is more plenteous than that springi
clear and striking similarity between tl
raised against revelation,

ng from the
1e objections
and those which may be
raised against the government and order of God in
natural providence. When the External and Inter-
nal evidences of Christianity seem cold,
tive, and barren, the Analogical precisely meet his
feelings. The full and adequate repose which they
inspire, is a calm after a storm,
sensible from being unexpected.
other, the mind, at times,
with fears and speculations.

E2

and ineffec-

The relief is mor

10re
d3VIT
¥

For, somehow or
appears quite hedged in

The state of mise ry in

 
 

Cc

which the world lies=~the prevalence of moral evil
——the immense majority of the human race sunk
in pagan ignorance—the trials of good men—the
prosperity of the wicked—the slow progress of truth
and reason ; these, and a thousand like matters, per-
plex, too frequently, the benevolent and reflecting
mind of the Christian. He is quite astonished that
an all-wise and ail-gracious Creator should leave a
revelation with so little efficacy attending it. He
thinks that he can never obtain satisfaction upon
these questions. He has forgotten the arguments
which formerly silenced his scruples, and his faith is
ready to fail him. The analogical argument then
occurs to his distracted thoughts—he reads it as if
he had never read it before—it seems new, forcible,
conclusive—his proud reasonings sink—faith re-
sumes her sway—humility acknowledges the igno-
rance and littleness of man, before the incomprehen-
sible plans of the infinite God—his state of proba-
tion and discipline, forces itself upon his notice—
the traces of the same divine Governor, in the natu-
ral and moral world, are again seen and recognized
—and the satisfaction he thus regains is more than
can be expressed. In proportion as the difficulties
appeared insuperable, is the removal of them consol-
ing and vivifying. J :
There is this further to be noticed, as to the im-
portance of the argument from analogy, that it is
capable of indefinite ramification. The fruitfulness
of it is such, that each Christian, throughout the
whole course of life, may multiply his observation
without exhausting the inquiry. There is an in-
herent freshness and life in it, which makes it always
new and interesting.

C1

Indeed, we must observe, before we quit this
topic, that the variETY of the Christian argument
generally, is one striking confirmation of its truth.
The evidences for revelation may be truly said to be
diversified, and extensive beyond any thing that
could have been conceived, we do not say, on a like
subject, but on any subject whatever. If a man
were allowed to point out beforehand, the proofs of
a divine religion to be addressed to a reasonable and
accountable being, he could not name any different
in kind from those which we possess. For what
could a man demand, but either the conspicuous dis-
play of a clearly miraculous power in attestation of
it, or the incontrovertible fulfilment of prophecy—
or the triumphant and supernatural spread of the
doctrine itself—or the visible and mighty effects on
all who receive it? And where the revelation is
admitted and obeyed, what internal confirmation of
its truth could he desire, beyond the adaptation of
it to the state and wants of man—the purity and
sublimity of its doctrines and precepts—the un-
tainted benevolence of its Founder—the attendant
influence of grace—and the actual accomplishment
of its promises to all who apply duly for them? And
if objections be afterwards raised against this scheme,
what could he wish further, than to see them ex-
tinguished by considerations derived from the igno-
rance of man, and the incomprehensibility of God?
In this diversity of proof all the attributes of the
Almighty are pledged, as it were, to the sincere be-
liever. The miracles give him the pledge of the
sovereign power of God—the prophecies, of his
omniscience—the supernatural propagation of the

 
 

cii

gospel, of his supreme providence—the effects pro-
duced, of his fidelity— the adaptation to the state of
man, of his wisdom—the purity of the doctrine and
morals, of his holiness—the character of Christ, of
his condescension—the accompanying influence, of
his grace and goodness—the fulfilment of the pro-
mises, of his veracity. Thus the evidences of Chris-
tianity have an impression of the divine glory irra-
diating them.*

But it is not merely the diversity of these topics,
but the pissiMiLARITY of them from each other,
which gives them their incomparable weight. They
are not all of a kind. The impostor who could be
imagined to feign one branch of them, would be
incapacitated by that very attempt from feigning the
rest. They would each demand a separate scheme,
distinct powers, a new reach of intellect, different
combinations. The independence of these different
evidences upon each other, indescribably augments
their force. In fact, the annals of mankind never
exhibited such a religion as Christianity surrounded
with her credentials, nor any thing like it. The
systems of Heathenism and Mahommedanism reflect
a glory on revelation by the contrast which they ex-
hibit in these respects, as well as in every other.

And yet the simpLicITY of these different evi-
dences of our religion is as remarkable as their num-
ber and diversity. For they are level to every un-
derstanding. They address themselves to the fa-

 

* We are indebted for some thoughts in this part of the Essay,
to Mr. Davidson’s admirable Warburtonian Lectures—a work
of deep research, and full of fine reflections; especially on the
structure of prophecy.

ciii

culty of judgment with which we are endowed. The
reader of history, the student of nature, the scholar,
the contemplative philosopher, the uneducated in-
quirer, the candid mind of every class, may find ob-
vious and satisfactory proofs adapted to his habits
and capacities. If there is no bad faith, every one
that investigates this great question will find the
satisfaction he seeks for.

We only observe, further, that the proper force
and strength of these evidences, lie in the union
of all the parts of the argument. This Bishop
Butler has pointed out, chiefly in respect of the ana-
logical argument; but it is important to be applied
to the entire subject. One point may more forcibly
strike the conviction of one inquirer, and another
point of another; a separate argument may be weakly
stated by the Christian advocate; mistakes may be
made in deducing a particular historical proof, or al-
leging a particular fact. But the cause of Christi-
anity does not rest on any one division of the subject,
but on the whole. Each separate branch is, indeed,
firm enough to sustain the entire edifice ; but we are
not allowed to let it rest there. "We must remind
the sincere inquirer, that it is the combined effect of
the various topics which he is called on to observe.
And if this be done, we fear not to assert, that no
such inquirer shall fail of all the satisfaction which a
moral certainty can produce. The infidel attacks
Christianity generally on some single isolated point
of evidence; and if he can contrive to obscure the
brightness of this, triumphs as if he had proved the
religion to be fictitious. And not only so, but if he
can only raise a doubt about the truth of this single,

 
civ

and perhaps subordinate point, he turns this doubt
into what he calls a positive argument against Chris-
tianity. But this is unfair and disingenuous.
Christianity reposes on the entire structure of her
evidences—a structure which has never, as yet, been
fairly assailed, much less weakened or destroyed ; and
which rears its front in undiminished stability and
glory, mocking at its feeble and discomfited oppo-
nents.

Having thus given a view of the connection of
the Analogical argument, with the other branches of
the Christian evidence, and of its particular use and
importance, we now proceed, 2dly, Zo offer some
remarks on Butler's particular view of Christianity,
and on the adaptation of his argument to practical
religion in all its extent.

For the reader will have observed, that the great
argument of the Analogy is designed rather to silence
objections, than to expound or defend the minute
and interior topics of Christianity, on which the life
and influence of piety, as a practical principle, very
much depend. Indeed the end of all treatises on
the Evidences of religion, must be the establishment
of the truth of it generally, and not the particular
development of its parts. Such treatises meet the
unbeliever, as much as possible, on his own ground,
and attempt to gain his assent to the credentials of
the divine doctrine, leaving the details of that doc-
trine to the ordinary teachers of Christianity, or the
various practical works which treat professedly of
them. The general features, therefore, of the
Christian religion, are all that it falls within the pro-

cv

vince of the writer on Evidences to delineate fully;
taking care that his allusions to the inward grace and
power of it be calculated to lead the reader on to
adequate views of the whole. These features, Bishop
Butler has seized with a master’s eye. The moral
government of God by rewards and punishments, the
state of discipline which this world is for a future
one; the corruption of man, the guilt of sin, the
mediation of Christ, the propitiatory sacrifice of his
death, and his invisible government of his church:
the assistance and grace of the Holy Spirit; the se-
cond advent of our Lord to judgment ; the serious-
ness of mind which the subject of religion demands—
these commanding truths are the first elements and
characteristics of Christianity, and are nobly defended
and cleared from objections by our Author.

At the same time, it cannot, and need not he
concealed, that the occasional hints which fall from
him, on the particular grace of the Christian reli-
gion, and its operation on the heart, are far from
being so explicit. His references to the precise na-
ture of our justification before God—to the extent
of the fall and ruin of man by sin—to the work of
the Holy Spirit in regeneration and sanctification—
and to the consolatory, cheering, vivifying effects of
peace of conscience, and communion with God, and
hope of rest and joy in heaven, do not correspond
with the largeness of the case. T hey are partial
and defective. They might and should have em-
braced, incidentally at least, some intimations of the
peculiar structure and design of spiritual religion.
The powerful argument in hand should at times have
been carried out to its consequences. © The inex-

E 3

 
Rs

cv

perienced theological student would not then have
been in danger of drawing erroneous conclusions, on
some practical points of great importance.

It is therefore to guard the youthful reader from
error as to the nature of practical Christianity, that
the following reflections are offered, some of which
will only go to explain what may be misapprehended
in our Author’s language and argument; others will
attempt to suggest some additional thoughts on topics
which may appear deficient. Some notice will then
be taken of the easy adaptation of his argument to
the practice and experience of religion in all its extent.

1. Let us first suggest a hint on the nature and
importance of Natural Religion as stated by Bishop
Butler. Various mistakes have arisen, both as to
what is meant by this term, and as to its efficacy,
independently of Christianity. Nor have there been
wanting those who have denied altogether its exist-
ence, and its subserviency to the Christian doctrine.

By Natural Religion, Bishop Butler understands
religion generally, as distinguished from those mo-
difications of it which revelation superinduced. Na-
tural Religion is that service, and those religious
regards to Almighty God, which men owe to Him
as their Creator and Benefactor, and which arise out
of the relations in which they stand to Him, as the
rational and accountable beings whom he formed for
his glory, and governs by his law. These primitive
obligations of religion may plainly be distinguished
from Christianity, which is an additional dispensation,

revealing the divine and stupendous scheme of the
recovery of man from his state of ruin and guilt, by

the Son and Spirit of God. Indeed Natural Reli-

cvil

gion is, properly speaking, distinct from those anti-
cipations of the Christian redemption, which the early
revelations to our first parents, to the patriarchs and
to the Jewish people, comprised. The traditions, it
is true, of these carly revelations, mingled with the
faint traces of man’s moral nature which have sur-
vived the fall, constitute the religion of nature, as
now seen in the various heathen nations, where the
bright light of the last revelation, the Christian, has
not reached. But Butler usually restrains the mean-
ing of the term to the doctrine of a future state,
where every one shall be rewarded or punished ac-
cording to his deserts; and to those duties which
man owes to God, as his moral and righteous Crea-
tor and Governor.

This religion was originally impressed on the heart
of man, as “ created in righteousness and true holi-
ness,” and consists of those habits and acts of sub-

jection, obedience, reverence, love, adoration, gra-

titude, trust, prayer, communion, resignation, and
praise, which an upright, but finite and dependent
being owed to its Sovereign and its Benefactor, and
the reward consequent on which was to be cternal
lite. This divine impression on the heart was et-
faced by the fall ; and now these habits and affections
are only to be acquired by the light and grace of
Christianity. It is this revelation which has repaired
the ruins of the fall, brought in a remedy for the
apostacy and wickedness of mankind, restored the
enfeebled, and almost extinguished powers of natural
religion, added surprising discoveries of divine wis-
dom and mercy, in the sacrifice of the Son of God,
and the mission of the Holy Spirit, enjoined impor-

 
cviil
tant correspondent duties and obligations; and thus
modified the original scheme of religion by these
new characteristics.

It is therefore very fair for a Christian writer,
like our Bishop, to distinguish, in his course of rea-
soning, the two series of habits and feelings ; those
which constitute religion as springing from our rela-
tion to God, as our heavenly Creator and Lord, and
those which constitute religion as springing from
our relation to Christ, as our Mediator, and to the
Holy Spirit, as our Sanctifier, and to our heavenly
Father, as being the Father of mercies, and the God
of all consolation. It is thus the apostle Paul speaks
of the Gentiles, which “have not the law, being a law
unto themselves, which show the work of the law
written in their hearts.” It is thus the same apostle
expounds the chief truths to be learned from this law,
to be  God’s eternal power and Godhead, which
might be clearly seen by the things which were
made;” and charges the heathens with “not liking
to retain God in their knowledge,” and with ¢ be-
coming fools, while professing themselves to be wise;”
and, indeed, with committing, and glorying in those
vices, and crimes, and passions, which ““they knew
were, by the judgment of God, worthy of death.”
The same apostle’s argument at Athens, and his
discourse to the Lycaonians, proceed on this supposi-
tion, that there was such a thing as the light and
religion of nature, independently, not of revelation
in the first instance, but of the Christian, or last re-
velation by the gospel.

Accordingly, in the present age, as well as in all
preceding ones, the vestiges of natural conscience

CiX

may be traced, however corrupted. Some notion of
a Supreme Being, and of worship being due to him
—some glimmerings of the doctrine of a future state
—some idea of the efficacy of sacrifices—some ac-
knowledgment of the obligations of veracity and jus-
tice—some remains, in short, of a moral sense, are
discovered, in greater or less force, amidst the scat-
tered fragments of the pagan superstitions. There
is every where in man, the capacity of being restored
to all that Christianity designs and promises.

All this is clear and unembarrassed ground. The
disputed territory lies beyond. For when we come
to inquire, whether men, since the fall, ever discovered
these natural truths originally, or regained them
when lost, or acted upon them efficiently in their
conduct, we have a host of assailants to contend
with. And yet, surely, no doubt can be fairly said
to rest on these questions. All experience declares,
that natural religion, unless illuminated and guided
by the light of Christianity, is impotent and help-
less. All experience declares, that men, destitute
of Christianity, grow worse and worse. No example
has been ever produced, either of a pagan nation
acting up to the scattered notices of religion which
it possessed, or recovering the purity of it when once
lost by the lapse of time, or the progress of vice.
And the high probability is, (setting aside, for the
sake of argument, the testimony of Scripture,) that
the faint light which nature possesses, was an irra-
diation from the first revelation of God to man.

Butler is decidedly of opinion that this is the
case. He says, As there is no hint or intimation
in history, that this system (of natural religion) was

 
CX

first reasoned out ; so there is express historical, or
traditional evidence as ancient as history, that it was
taught first by revelation.” He seems, likewise, to
hold strongly, that such faint traces of this original
revelation as remain, aided by the fragments of man’s
moral nature, are so inefficient, from the want of es-

sential parts, from the absence of authority and sanc-

tion, and from the intermixture of gross errors and

idolatries, as rather to strengthen than curb, much

less subdue, the passions and vices of mankind.

Those relics of truth, therefore, being thus impotent
of themselves, and being unaccompanied by any as-
surances of pardon, or any promises of grace and
assistance, only demonstrate, in every age, and in
every quarter of the world, by the state in which
they leave men, the indispensable necessity and in-
finite importance of Christianity. 310

On the whole, there appears no objection to the
term Natural Religion in the sense explained.
Whether any better, and more distinctive expres-
sion could have been devised to convey the idea of
essential and primitive religion, as different from re-
vealed and superinduced religion, is scarcely worth
the inquiry. The use of the present term has pre-
vailed ; and it needs ouly to be employed aright, in
order to stand free from just exception. ids Sssge
Natural religion, in subserviency to Christianity,

is of great importance. It is everywhere faken 4
granted in Scripture, and confirmed and ron >
ened by the manner in which truth is addresse :
man. All the evidences of revealed religion appea
to our moral nature, and meet precisely the faculty
of judging which we still possess; and would have

cxi

no medium of proof—and, therefore, no authority
to convince—if this moral sense should be denied.
Moreover, it becomes yet more important, in pro-
portion as the light of Christianity, diffused around
it, illuminates, in some faint degree, its grosser dark-
ness, and dispels its baser corruptions and super-
stitions. In Christian countries, men who reject
Christianity insensibly repair the decayed and dila-
pidated temple of nature with the materials which it
supplies. And it is with natural religion, in this
form, that we have chiefly to treat in this country.
It then serves to show men, that their consciences
are bound, not only by the law of Christianity which

they spurn and reject, but by the law of nature, of

which they cannot divest themselves ; not only by the
infinite benefits and stupendous discoveries of the re-
velation of the gospel, to which they ought to bow,
but by the truths impressed originally on the nature
of man, and sanctioned and enlarged in the primitive
revelations of the Creator to him—revelations, of
which every glimmering ray of knowledge, every
feeble emotion of conscience, every remaining bar-
rier between virtue and vice, every impression of the
responsibility of man, every anticipation of future
judgment, every relic and trace of an immortal and
accountable spirit, are proofs and consequences. Thus
men are reminded, that they do not escape from moral
government by rejecting Christianity, but fall back
on a ruined and unaided principle, which leaves them
just as responsible to God, the Creator and Judge,
as before—only with the accumulated guilt of having
spurned the only way of pardon and grace which the
infinite mercy of God had provided for them.

LA A Slaw
GP

 

 
exii

The consideration of natural religion is also valu-
able, as it points out the grounds of those exhorta-
tions, warnings, reproofs, invitations, and commands,
which constitute so very large a proportion of the
whole Scriptures, and on which revealed religion
proceeds, and by which it works. The duty of man
remains unaltered, notwithstanding his sinfulness and
moral impotency; his capacity of receiving instruc-
tion, and being the subject of persuasion and alarm,
remains the same, though he has fallen from his
original rectitude; his guilt in rejecting the invita-
tions of mercy, and the remonstrances of conscience,
remain undiminished, though his power of complying
with them must be sought for from above. Turther,
the use of all the means of grace, as adapted to his
reasonable and moral nature—the exhibition and
application of all the terrors of the law, and of all
the grace of the gospel, as the proper object of his
affections, together with the earnestness and impor-

tunity with which these topics should be enforced—
all rest on the plain footing, that some remains of

feeling, and conscience, and light, rest with man, by
which it pleases God to work in the dispensation of
his Spirit.

Nor is the religion of nature less important, as
fixing, in some measure, the ends, and guiding the
course, of that which is revealed. All the chief
abuses of the scheme of grace in the gospel would
be guarded against, if not excluded, if natural reli-
gion were allowed its subordinate influence. Such
abuses spring from the desire, often laudable in its
apparent object, of carrying the doctrines of the
gospel to their full measure, and applying them to

exiil
the heart in their exuberant consolation. Hence
men come first to deny natural religion—then to
object to the practical exhortations of the gospel ;
next to assert, that the state of death in trespasses
and sins in which men lie, makes all precepts con-
tradictory, and all warnings fruitless; and, lastly, to
spurn the authority and obligation of the moral law
of God, and reject all the doctrines of Christian
morals and Christian obedience. Thus an opening
is made, insensibly, to the worst abuses of the Divine
mercy and grace—abuses which a more implicit re~
gard to the Scriptures, on the subject of the essen-
tial nature of religion, would have prevented. The
end of Christianity is to make us holy—to bring us
back to the purity from which we fell—to make natu-
ral religion practicable, possible, delightful ; to infuse
into it the humility which becomes a fallen condition
—the faith in an atonement which the sacrifice of
the cross demands—the gratitude and love which
the benefits of that cross require—the dependence
on the blessed Spirit which our feebleness makes
indispensable—the joy which the hope of heaven
warrants and bestows. Thus Christianity modifies,
indeed, the essential religion first taught in the ori-
ginal revelation to man, and impressed on his heart ;
but never contradicts it—never swerves from the
same end—never releases from its main obligations
—never violates its primary principles and dictates.
Man is only bound more strongly, by all the benefits
of Christianity, to the obedience which he was, by
nature, formed and designed to render to his God;
and the moment he views those benefits in a manner
to loosen, instead of confirming, the bonds of this

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CXIV

obedience, he may conclude he is mistaking the whole
end and object of the Christian revelation.

2. But this leads us to make an observation on
some of our great Author's expressions and senli-
ments, on the remains of Natural Religion, and on
the grounds of our justification and acceptance with
God, which seem open to exception. For whilst we
thus claim for natural religion what the Scriptures
clearly imply, or rather inculcate, and defend Butler
on this point, we must cautiously avoid the danger-
ous error of attributing to it a power, which, in the
fallen state of man, it does not and cannot possess,
and which may militate against what the same Scrip-
tures teach of the extent of man’s depravity, and the
necessity of divine grace, in order to his doing any
thing spiritually good. And, therefore, the lan-
guage which occurs in some parts of the Analogy,
on the nature and powers of man, may appear to be
too strong, too general, too unqualified. We speak
here with hesitation, because, considering the line of
argument pursued by this most able writer, and the
class of persons he addressed, it may be doubted
whether this remark is applicable in fairness or not.
Still we cannot but think, that he sometimes attri-
butes too much to the unaided nature of man, allows
too much to his moral sense and feeling, dwells
too largely on his tendencies to virtue and goodness,
and speaks too ambiguously on the ground of his
justification before God. Such expressions as the
following, considering the connexion in which they
stand, are open to abuse: ‘ Moral nature given
us by God”—¢ falling in with our natural appre-
hension and sense of things”—¢ There is nothing

CXV

in the human mind contradictory to virtue”—* The
moral law is interwoven in our nature”—¢ Men
may curb their passions, for temporal motives, in as
great a degree as piety commonly requires”’—* Na-
tural religion is the foundation and principal part of
Christianity ”—*¢ Men’s happiness and virtue are
left to themselves, are put in their own power” —
“ Religion requires nothing which men are not well
able to perform” —*¢ The relation in which we stand
to God the Father, is made known to us by reason.”
Such language continually occurring, together with
the terms, virtue, vice, honest man, satisfaction of
virtue, viciousness of the world,” &e. (instead of the
Scriptural terms, holiness, sin, renewed man, peace
of conscience, corruption and wickedness of the
world,”) may have the tendency to exalt too highly
the present fallen and corrupted powers of man, and
prevent that deep and thorough humiliation which
are necessary to a due appreciation and reception of
the grace of the gospel. They tend also to lessen
the guilt of man before God, and lower the standard
of that holiness which the Christian doctrine requires
and produces. Some most excellent observations
and statements are indeed made, in the course of
the work, on the mediation of Christ, and the influ-
ences of the Spirit, which go to correct the misap-
prehension to which I am referring; but these parts
of the work bear but a small proportion to the whole
treatise ; whereas the expressions in question occur
perpetually, and in every variety of form, and under
each division of the argument. They form the
staple, and enter into the contexture, and give the
colour, to the entire fabric. And thence arises the

AN I i LE SS ER

LR,

 

 
CxXVi

danger which we venture to point out. We do not
dwell here on the fact, that this licht of nature is in
Christian countries reflected from Christianity, and
is never found where Christianity is unknown. Nor
do we stop to suggest, that natural religion, in its
best and oldest times, confessed its weakness, and
sought for help and aid. We are content to take
things in their most favourable construction; and we
still profess our conviction, that all language is re-
prehensible, which, by fair inference, leads men to
think they can repent, and turn from sin to God,
without his special and effectual grace. And in this
view, we would caution the student against affixing
too strong a sense to the expressions which we have
cited.

In connexion with this remark, we must unequi-
vocally declare our apprehension, that the language
used by our Author, in speaking of the Almighty
finally rendering to every one according to his works,
and establishing the entire rights of distributive jus-
tice, is open to objection. Perhaps, if taken alone,
it might admit of a favourable interpretation; but,
when joined with the overstatements already noticed,
on the powers of man and the remains of natural
religion, it becomes decidedly dangerous. The great
doctrine of our justification before God, * not by
our own works and deservings, but only for the
merits of our Lord Jesus Christ,” is too funda-
mental, and too important, to be undermined, even
incidentally. We refer to such expressions as the
following : © The advantages of Christianity will be
bestowed upon every one, in proportion to the de-
grees of his virtue”—* Divine goodness may be a

CXvii

disposition to make the good, the faithful, the hon-
est man happy” —¢ We have scope and opportu-
nities here, for that good and bad behaviour which
God will reward and punish hereafter ”’—=¢ Religion
teaches us, that we are placed here, to qualify us,
by the practice of virtue, for another state which is
to follow it”—¢ Qur repentance is accepted to
eternal life.” These, and similar statements, occur
throughout the work. In the second part, where
the leading features of revealed religion are de-
lineated, they ought, by all means, to have been
accompanied with those modifications which the super-
induced scheme of the gospel, and the necessities of
man, and the glory of the cross of Christ, and the
ends of self-knowledge and humility require. We
say they should have been accompanied by such
modifications, because they are so accompanied in
the Holy Scriptures. The doctrine, that ¢ every
one shall receive the things done in the body,” that
‘ they that have done good shall rise to the resur-
rection of life, and they that have done evil to the
resurrection of damnation,” is most true, and most
important. But the doctrines which accompany and
modify this fundamental truth, should never be wholly
lost sight of, even in a treatise on Evidences, when
any reference is made to the subject. We are
taught in the New Testament, that these works
must spring from faith and love to our Saviour
Christ, and must be renounced in point of merit,
on account of the inherent evil which defiles the
very best of them, and must be accepted only
through that Sacrifice which is the real footing of a
sinner’s dealings with a holy God, and must be re-

 

 
cxviil

garded by those who perform them, with that deep
humility, and almost unconsciousness of having done
them, which is so strongly marked in the conduct
of the righteous, in our Lord’s account of the last
day. Now, these modifications are so essential,
that the language of our Author, however undesign-
edly, becomes really dangerous when stripped of
them. And man is so prone to pride, self-confidence,
reliance on his own merits, and presumptuous igno-
rance of his failings; and the apostle Paul insists
so warmly on the immense importance of the doctrine
of justification without works—that too much caution
cannot be used in the most incidental representations
given on such subjects.

It is the more necessary to guard against a false
reliance on our own works and deservings, because
a mistake here pervades and corrupts every other
part of religion. The good works of the pious
Christian, whose mind is duly imbued with a be-
coming sense of his fall and corruption, of his un-
utterable obligations to the great Propitiation, and
Lis entire dependence on the influences of the Holy
Spirit, are very different from the partial, external,
worldly, selfish, proud performances of the nominal
professor of Christianity. The morality of the no-
minal Christian rises very little higher than that of
the unbeliever: his rule is fashion; his limit, con-
venience; his aim, to do as little as possible in re-
ligion. He performs some actions, indeed, which
azree, as to their form and external appearance, with
the law of God; but, in truth, spring from habit,
ambition, the love of reputation, the regard to so-
ciety, the remonstrances of conscience. He soon

CcXix

fills up what he concludes to be intended by a pious
and virtuous life. He soon attains to his own de-
finition of a faithful honest man. He soon satis-
fies himself that his virtues surpass and overbalance
his vices, and that, as he is to be judged according
to his works, he has nothing to fear before the tri-
bunal of Christ. In the mean time, his heart is
alienated from God and true obedience to him: faith
and love never visited his breast; and his religion
consists with prejudice, perhaps hatred and axspe-
ration, against the real system of the gospel.

The truly devout Christian, on the contrary
aims at holiness, and not merely at what the wold
calls virtue; endeavours to subdue his passions, as
well as regulate his conduct; labours to serve God
and adorn Christianity, and do good to others,
the very utmost of his power; spends much time
and care in watching over his motives, and culti-
vating the inward principles of piety; devotes a
portion of the day to the reading of the Scriptures
to the public and private calls of devotion, to self.
examination, thanksgiving, and religious regards
towards the ever-blessed God, and his Saviour and
Redeemer, Christ. And after he has done all, he
accounts himself an unprofitable servant, renounces
all merit in his own works, attributes every vocd in
them to the divine grace, and places all his Tut in
the vicarious sacrifice of the Son of God. Ile is
the publican smiting on his breast, and sping,
“ God be merciful to me a sinner;” whilst all ther
men, however pure in the eyes of the world, are, in
fact, like the Pharisee, swollen with conceit hd
arrogance, dwelling fondly on their own performances,

 

 
CXX

looking, perhaps, with contempt on others, and
placing no real trust in the mercy of God. Thus,
even if all the separate expressions above adverted
to could be defended, yet would they still lead to a
wrong end, because unattended with these explana-
tions which the Scriptures carefully supply. We
are to be * judged according to our works,” and
shall be rewarded or punished ¢ according to the
deeds done in the bodys” but in a high and tran-
scendent sense in the case of the righteous, as their
works spring from faith, are the effects of grace, and
are accompanied with humility and self-renunciation.
3. These observations lead me to notice a general
defect, as it seems to me, in our Author’s represcnta-
tion of the stupendous recovery of man provided in
the Gospel. For if any doubt could be raised on
the inexpediency of the above language, all such
doubt would be removed, when we find, on further
examination, that our Bishop’s allusions to the whole
doctrine of redemption and salvation, as revealed in
the New Testament, are not sufficiently clear and
comprehensive to agree fully with the Scriptural
statements of our natural corruption, and of the opera-
tions of grace as adapted to it. Let us not be mis-
understood. Bishop Butler is far irom omitting
altogether the peculiar scheme of the gospel. He
states distinctly the insufficiency of repentance alone
to restore us to God’s favour. He speaks with ad-
mirable clearness on the Mediation and Sacrifice of
Christ. He quotes the passages in Scripture, which
teach the vicarious nature of Christ’s sufferings, and
insists on the benefit of those sufferings being some-
thing much beyond mere instruction or example.

CXXxi

On these subjects, at least on some parts of them,
no complaint can be alleged against his brief state-
ments ; they are luminous and adequate, for an ele-
mentary treatise. Still the general idea of the
scheme of the gospel as a dispensation of grace, which
would be gathered from the whole of his representa-
tions and suggestions, would be erroneous. He
calls Christianity * a moral system; he speaks of it
as teaching us chiefly “new duties, and new relations
in which we stand :”” he describes it as * an additional
order of Providence.” These expressions are cold
and inadequate. But we object most of all to the
following passage: * The doctrine of the gospel ap-
pears to be, not only that Christ taught the efficacy
of repentance, but rendered it of the efficacy which
it is, by what he did and suffered for us; that he
obtained for us the benefit of having our repentance
accepted unto eternal life: not only that he revealed
to sinners, that they were in a capacity of salvation,
and how they might obtain it; but moreover, that he
put them into this capacity of salvation, by what he
did and suffered for them ; put us into a capacity of
escaping future punishment, and obtaining future
happiness. And it is our wisdom thankfully to ac-
cept the benefit, by performing the conditions upon
which it is offered, on our part, without disputing
how it was procured on his.” (Part IL Chap. V.
§ vi.)—Surely this is plainly deficient. Surely the
salvation of Christ proceeds on a different footing,
and includes much more than this. Surely the
great Sacrifice of the cross not only obtained for the
sincere believer, that his ¢ repentance should be ac-
cepted to eternal life,” (a phrase unscriptural in its

F 17

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cxxil

very terms,) not only put him in a capacity of sal-
vation, not only proposed certain conditions to be
performed on his part—all which places the stress
of salvation upon ourselves, makes the reception and
application of it to depend on our own efforts, and
leaves to our Lord merely the office of removing
external hinderances, affording us some aid by his
Spirit, and supplying our deficiencies—but purchased
also salvation itself, in all the amplitude of that
mighty blessing; procured pardon, reconciliation,
justification, adoption, acceptance, the gift of the
Holy Spirit, and the promise of everlasting life.
Surely salvation brings men from darkness unto light,
reverses the sentence of condemnation, and makes
them ¢ the righteousness of God in Christ;” it
places them under a new covenant, and confers the
grace necessary for ¢ repentance towards God, and
faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ” it puts them
on the footing, not of the law, but of the gospel; not
of works, but of grace ; not of obtaining acceptance
for their repentance, but of receiving “the gift of
God, which is eternal life.” Let Butler’s summary
of the benefits of Christ’s death be compared with
such summaries as the Apostle gives «We have
redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness
of sins”’—¢ By grace are ye saved, through faith;
and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God: not
of works, lest any man should boast; for we are his
workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good
works, which God hath before ordained, that we
should walk in them.”
With this defective view of the fruits of our
Lord’s propitiation, is allied a correspondent defect

CXXlil
as to the nature and importance of faith, by whicl
the benefits of that propitiation are seedtvad Ho
plied. The tendency of some of Butler's sum iil
statements, however undesigned, and arisin iH
haps, in some measure, from his calmness in Be
the particular course of his argument, is ww I
reader to suppose that the effects of Christ’s redem ®
tion are enjoyed by all who profess the Christin
religion, and live a moral life; that is, by all o
have that general belief in the doctrine of ciate t 1
which springs from education and rational Ch >?
if they are free from gross sin, cultivate virtue we
set a good example to others, by a decent re ut ib
conduct. All these things are indeed or "
the acts and fruits of a true and lively faith, but th i
reach not those peculiar effects and propestior of o
which prove it to be spiritual and salutar F th
is ¢ the substance of things hoped for or th -
dence of things not seen.” It isa ne a,
holy exercise of the understanding and Bor
in receiving God’s testimony concerning Christ -
in reposing all the trust and confidence of he ol
on the merits of that Saviour for everlastin life
It is not merely a general, cold, historical oe > ,
certain truths; but a particular, affectionate, livi 9
practical belief of them, on the authority of Gos,
and an acting fully upon them, as infinitel a
and important. It is not simply a notion . ri 1
an established hereditary sentiment; but a oe
principle, springing from a personal sense of our oa
condition, and apprehending for ourselves the ble
ings of Christ, and relying upon them for everl
ing salvation. Faith is the eye which ok
F 2

 

 
CXXIV

Christ, as the brazen serpent which Moses raised ; it
is the foot which flies to Him, as the man-slayer fled
to the city of refuge, that he might escape the avenger
of blood; it is the hand which receives, as a needy
beggar, the inestimable gift of God, freely offered to
him ; it is the ear which hears, with eager solicitude,
the voice and invitation of mercy, that it may live; it
is the appetite which hungers and thirsts” after
Christ, and feeds on his flesh and drinks his blood,”
that it may have eternal life. Faith, like Noah,
prepares the ark, and enters it for rescue ; faith builds
on Christ the sure foundation; faith puts on Christ,
as the robe of righteousness, and the garment of sal-
vation. Accordingly, its effects correspond with its
divine origin, and the matchless benefits it receives.
It “works by love,” it overcomes the world,” it
¢ sees Him who is invisible,” it ¢ glories in tribula-
tion,” it purifies the heart,” it anticipates heaven,
it ¢ quenches the fiery darts of the wicked one,” it
produces uniform, spiritual, cheerful, willing obe-
dience. Let any one read what the Scriptures assert
of faith, what they ascribe to it, and the earnestness
with which they enforce its necessity, and he will
be convinced, that it is totally different from that
dead, speculative assent to the Christian scheme,
which is often confounded with it. Faith includes,
besides the general reception of Christianity, a par-
ticular conviction of our own sins, a particular appre-
hension of our own lost estate, a personal applica-
tion for ourselves of the offered blessings of the
gospel, and a distinct and spiritual reliance for our
own salvation, on the death and merits of our Saviour
Christ ;—and some reference should have been

CXXV

made to all this by our Author; at least, no expres-
sion, however brief, should have been inconsistent
with it.

4. All main defects in our views of practical Chris-
tianity hang together. 7%e same kind of inadequate
statements, therefore, seem to us to be chargeable on
our Author's remarks on the doctrine of the Holy
Ghost. Indeed we are not sure if serious omissions
are not to be found here—more serious than on most
of the preceding topics. Bishop Butler allows in-
deed distinctly, that the Holy Spirit is our Sanctifier,
and that the recovery of mankind is a scheme carried
on by the Son and Spirit of God. He speaks fre-
quently of the aid which the Spirit affords to good
men. He acknowledges that man is a depraved
creature, and wants not merely to be improved, but
to be renewed; and he quotes the striking text,
¢“ Except a man be born of the Spirit, he cannot
enter into the kingdom of God.” We would wish
to give the full benefit of these admissions in favour
of the Bishop, and against what we are about to state.
Nor do we doubt, that this remarkable man implored
the operations of the Spirit in his own case, expe-
rienced his consolations, and ascribed every thing to
his grace. Still we conceive his general language
in his Analogy, on this fundamental subject, does
not come up to the Scriptural standard. He does
not give even that prominence to it which he does
to the mediation of Christ. He speaks of the Spirit
as aiding, but scarcely at all as creating anew; he
describes his assistances, but hardly ever his mighty
operations in changing the whole heart; he talks of
his presence with good men, but seldom, if at all, of

a

AER a a a
ICHAT

 

 
.

CXXV1

his regeneration and conversion of the wicked ; he
allows co-operating, but not preventing grace—at
least, not clearly and distinctly, as the Scriptures
teach, and as the importance of the case requires;
he dwells on the help of the Spirit, in subduing our
passions, and qualifying us for heaven, but passes
over slightly the illuminating influences of the Spirit,
in opening the understanding, and his transforming
power, in ¢ taking away the heart of stone, and giv-
ing a heart of flesh.” We read little or nothing in
our Author of the Holy Spirit’s work in awakening
men, like those asleep; quickening them, as those
dead in sin; delivering them from the power of Satan,
as those enslaved; convincing them of sin, as those
ignorant and proud; creating in them a new and con-
trite heart, as those obdurate and perverse; and im-
planting in them the first seeds of repentance, faith,
love, and obedience, as those needing a new and
heavenly birth. All this is of the greatest impor-
tance, because, if the foundations of true obedience
are not laid in the Scriptural doctrine of an entire
renewal of the fallen heart, the subsequent building
must be slight and insecure. If men are not taught
the necessity of a new creation in Christ Jesus, in
consequence of the blindness of their understanding,
as well as the disorder of their affections, they must,
and will begin, and we find in fact they do begin,
their religion in a proud, self-dependent temper ; in
ignorance of their own wants, and of the mighty
change which must take place in them.

The illumination of the Spirit is especially im-
portant in this view. It is a doctrine humiliating,
indeed, to the proud reason of man, but essential to

cxXXxvil

any real knowledge of the gospel of Christ. Our
Lord places the gift of the Spirit at the very entrance
of the Christian life, and directs men to pray for it,
as the key and summary of all other blessings: “Ask
and ye shall receive; seek and ye shall find ; knock
and it shall be opened to you. If ye, being evil,
know how to give good gifts unto your children, how
much more shall your Father which is in heaven,
give his Holy Spirit to them that ask him?” It
might have pleased God, for any thing we know, to
have given us a revelation so framed as to be intelli-
gible to us in all its parts, without further aid ; or it
might have pleased him to have made the under-
standing of it, in all its parts, plainly above our
powers of mind, and capacities of comprehension. In
either case we should then have had no need of the
illumination of the Spirit; in the first, because the
revelation would have been wholly level to our natural
powers ; in the second, because it would have been
wholly out of the reach of them. But it has pleased
God to give us a revelation, containing much that is
plain, in its history, its facts, its external duties, its
sacraments, its morals ; and much that is mysterious
and incomprehensible, in its vast scheme, in the pur-
pose and will of its divine Author, in the attributes
and glory of the persons of the Godhead, in the
miraculous conception and incarnation of our Lord,

in the wonders of the cross, and the operations of
grace. And, at the same time, much also that is of

a mixed nature, being neither so plain as to be level
to our unaided understanding, nor so elevated as to
he wholly placed above their compass and capacity:
but requiring the special guidance and illumination

nn

J oS LR SR ia a ARLE A SR

 
CXXVIil

of the Holy Spirit, to be rightly apprehended and
employed ;—such is the ruined state of man, the
evil of sin, the nature of true conversion to God, of
faith, of love, of peace, of joy, of communion with
God, of new obedience ; all, in short, that regards
the application and use of truth. These things
cannot be understood by man in his natural state,
but must be learned by the teaching of the Holy
Spirit. And thus the plan of Christianity is, in
this view, a further test of men’s characters. They
must stoop at the very threshold, and sue for a hea-
venly light, and take other measures of sin, and
themselves, and God, and repentance, and faith, and
conversion, and obedience, than nature can give, or
they will fatally err. The ignorance and prejudices
of the ¢ evil heart of unbelief,” will infallibly betray
them. Either no sense will be put on the parts of
the Scripture relating to these subjects, or a forced,
low, insufficient sense, which evades, and explains
away, instead of implicitly receiving, the real mean-
ing. Not that we claim an illumination of the Spirit
which supersedes at all the use of the human faculties
in studying the Bible, or requires a new sense to be
put on ordinary language and construction, or com-
municates new truths, not already revealed in the
written word of God; or encourages or warrants en-
thusiasm and human fancies; or intrenches on the
miraculous powers conferred on the apostles; or alters
the rule of duty, and the obligations of man to obey
it; or acts in a way of force and compulsion incon-
sistent with our reasonable and accountable nature.
What we maintain is, the necessity of the secret and
imperceptible influence of the Holy Spirit upon the

CXXIX

understanding, sought by diligent prayer, and com-
municated gradually, in the use of rational means;
by which the mind is freed from prejudice and aver-
sion against truth, and is opened to receive the in-
structions of the written word of God, in their full
and natural signification and use.

But we pause. This is not the place to enter on
a discussion of the work of the Holy Ghost in man’s
sanctification. We have said enough, if we have
convinced the theological student that the impression
which Butler gives of this subject is far too slight
and superficial. + Let it be well remembered, that
God has given us a revelation of his will, with the
additional promise of his Spirit, to make it effectual
to its high purposes. ‘The light of heaven is not
more necessary to our discernment of natural objects
and beauties, than the light of the Spirit to our dis-
cernment of spiritual objects and fitnesses. + The
characteristic of the New Dispensation, is the pro-
mise of the Spirit. And with this persuasion, we
cannot dissemble our fears, that the language of
Bishop Butler may lead to dangerous mistakes.

5. But, in truth, all these deficiencies, if we are
right in our judgment about them, spring from an
inadequate view of the fallen state of man. We
know the controversies on this mysterious subject.
We allow that statements have too often been made,
which go to annihilate man’s moral nature, and his
capacity of restoration; which weaken his responsi-
bility, and unnerve the exhortations and invitations
which the Scriptures address to him; which extinguish
the faint light of natural conscience, and repress ef-
fort and watchfulness. But we cannot but know,

F3

 

 
CXXX

at the same time, that the errors on the side of ex-
tenuating and lessening the Scriptural account of
man’s spiritual state since the fall, are equally dan-
gerous, and more prevalent. We cannot therefore
conceal our conviction, that Butler's view of human
depravity does not fully meet the truth of the case,
as delineated in the inspired writings, and confirmed
by uniform experience. He speaks, we allow, oc-
casionally of men “ having corrupted their natures,”
having lost their ¢ original rectitude,” and as having
permitted their passions to become excessive by
repeated violations of their inward constitution.” He
avows that mankind is in * a state of degradation,
however difficult it may be to account for it; and that
the crime of our first parents was the occasion of our
being placed in a more disadvantageous condition.”
Yet, notwithstanding these expressions, the sincerity
and importance of which, so far as they go, we do
not for a moment call in question, he dwells, in the
course of his work, so copiously on man’s powers and
capacities—on his ¢ favouring virtue”’—on his hav-
ing within him ¢ the principle of amendment ”—on
¢ its being in his own power to take the path of
life ”—on *¢ virtue being agreeable to his nature” —
on “ vice never being chosen for its own sake ;” that
we cannot but consider the result as dangerous. If
these expressions were qualified, as they are in
Scripture, by other and explanatory statements, the
danger would be less; but standing as they do, they
convey the idea that man is not that inconsistent,
weak, corrupt, perverse, depraved, impotent creature
which the word of God teaches us he is. The
consequence of slight impressions of this great truth

CXXXI1

infallibly is, that men, not being duly instructed in
their real state before God, cannot feel that humility,
nor exercise that penitence, nor sue for that renewal,
which all depend on the primary fact of a total moral
ruin; and which form the adaptation between the
real grace of the gospel, and the actual wants of
man. Thus all the great ends of Christianity are
missed, and inferior benefits only are derived from it.
Neither conversion on the one hand, nor real obe-
dience to God on the other, can be attained ; and the
arch, deprived of its key-stone as it were, loses both
its beauty and its strength.

The Scriptural account of man is, that ¢¢ he is
born in sin and shapen in iniquity ’—that in him
dwelleth no good thing ”—that his heart is deceit-
ful above all things, and desperately wicked” —that
“the very imaginations of the thoughts of his heart
are only evil continually”’—that © he cannot, of
himself, think any thing that is good ”—that “ he is

dead in trespasses and sins ’—that “he is by nature a

child of wrath,”—lost, enslaved, miserable, ignorant,
corrupt ;—nhis heart at enmity with God”—his
passions and affections set on “ divers lusts and plea-
sures” —his whole moral nature ¢ alienated from the
life of God.” This strong language is not contra-
dictory to what the Scriptures, from which it is taken,
teach of man’s responsibility—nhis remaining sense
of right and wrong—his conscience—his fears of
judgment—nhis duty and his obligations; but it plainly
instructs us, that these relics and fragments of a for-
mer rectitude, are relics and fragments, and nothing
more ; and that as to any effective love of holiness—
as to any real return to God—as to any positive

 

 
CXXXil

efforts to recover or restore himself, he can do no-
thing, except as God  worketh in him to will and to
do of his good pleasure.” The edifice is decayed
throughout ; it must be taken down and re-erected
by the divine Architect. The leprosy has infected
every part; it must be levelled with the ground and
built anew. Let this fundamental doctrine be un-
derstood, and produce its due effects, and all will be
easy and intelligible in the Christian scheme of re-
demption; every thing will occupy its due place.
The apostacy and fall of man will prepare for salva-
tion by grace—for a free justification by the merits
of Christ—for an entire renovation by the blessed
Spirit—for a sincere and unreserved obedience.
And not only for obedience, but for love to God and
man——cheerful dedication to the service of Christ—
a temper of compassion and kindness towards others
—a disinterested, amiable, and active benevolence—
a zeal for the glory of God, and the good of men,
and a watchfulness over the first risings of sinful
passions and appetites. All this will be connected
with a ¢ peace of God which passeth understanding”
—¢ joy in the Holy Ghost” —*¢ patience in tribu-
lation ”—delight in prayer, meditation, and the con-
templation of God and heaven—a sense of happiness
and tranquillity in spiritual things—a moderation
as to all earthly concerns, and a victory over the ap-
plause and frown of the world.

6. For this is the next thing we shall presume to
mention, as defective in the allusions and statements
of our Author—~7%is standard of the effects of Chris-
tianily, in the holy, happy lives of real Christians,
is far too low. It could not indeed be otherwise.

CXXXI1il

The spiritual life is a whole. If the glory of the
Saviour, and the operations of his Spirit, and the
total ruin of man, as requiring both, are not first
understood, it is impossible that the blessed fruits of
all this, in the new life and happiness of the renova-
ted, pardoned, and sanctified heart, should be pro-
duced. There is, however, such a thing as ¢ the
love of Christ constraining a man to live no longer
to himself, but to Him that died for him and rose
again ;” there is such a thing as the inward experi-
ence of the grace of Christianity—there is such a
thing as a holy, happy, spiritual life, which differs as
much from a merely rational and moral one, as the
rational life differs from the animal, and the animal
from the vegetable. Not to have seized this idea,
is to have missed one peculiar feature of true Chris-
tianity.

7. In short, the whole of what we would advance
amounts to this—the standard of Christianity, as
applied to the heart and life of man, which the read-
ers of Butler woidd form from his general language,
is far below what we conceive to be the standard of
the Sacred Scriptures. In our view of the scriptural
standard, we may be wrong; but we think every
reader will perceive that the several points on which
we have offered remarks, hang together. If the
view we take of the extent of the fall be in the main
correct, then the view of justification, of the grace
of the gospel, of faith, of the work of the Holy
Ghost, of the peace and consolation of the Christian’s
heart, and of the zeal and spirituality of his obe-
dience, are probably correct also. They are links
of one chain. The connection is indispensable.

 

 
CXXXI1V

They rise or fall together.—All we entreat of the
reader, is an impartial examination of the entire
question. We beg only that it may not be deter-
mined by matters irrelevant—by fashion, prejudice,
the spirit of party, temporal and subordinate interests.
We beg only that the introduction of tenets which
we do not hold, or of consequences which we abhor,
may not be mixed up with the discussion. The
simple question is—Is the system which the language
we have been condemning seems to favour, or the
system which we have suggested in its stead, the
true system of the New Testament? Which comes
nearest to the Bible? Which has the apparent
sanction of the inspired oracles of God? Which
suits the expressions and sentiments of the sacred
writers in all their parts? Which takes in naturally
and without effort, not only the historical parts of
the Bible, not only the moral, not only the pro-
phetical, not only the devotional—for there is here
no dispute—but the doctrinal and experimental 7 It
is no sufficient proof of the truth of the system we
are opposing, that parts of it agree with the Serip-
tures; for it could not be otherwise. It would not
be a convincing proof of it, even if the whole of its
detached parts were to be found separately in that
perfect code. The question is, does it take in ALL
that Scripture teaches, on the several subjects; does
it adopt, in their obvious and unadulterated meaning,
ALL the language and statements of the Bible on
the fall of man, on justification, and on the other
points in controversy! And here we boldly and
fearlessly appeal to facts. Those who preach and
write in the temper and on the scheme which we are

CXXXV

opposing, do not use naturally and habitually the
language of St. Paul and the other apostles. This
language does not suit and fall in with their system,
does not express what they mean; and, therefore,
except when compelled by circumstances, their theo-
logical scheme avoids the scriptural phraseology, and
is formed in a different school. Our objection to
Bishop Butler’s language is, that it is not scriptural.
He substitutes weaker and more ambiguous expres-
sions. He lowers every thing. This one point goes
far to decide the question with any candid mind.
The system which admits with ease, and reposes
upon, the very language and sentiments of the in-
spired writers in all their instructions and exhorta-
tions, must, in all probability, be the nearest to the
truth. It is thus men judge in every similar case.
And it is to be remembered, that the higher and
more spiritual system of Christianity, takes in and
embraces the lower one; whilst this lower one rises
not to the other, and thus reaches not the extent
and end of the Divine Revelation.

Once more, we appeal to the hearts and con-
sciences, to the trials and conflicts, to the feelings
and wants, of the most devout and sincere Christians,
and we ask which view of truth comes nearest to
their cases, their necessities, their indigence ? Which
view of the state of man is best descriptive of their
own state? Which view of the method and scheme
of pardon most adequately supplies their importunate
need? Which view of the docirines of the Holy
Ghost affords the mighty aid which they are con-
scious they require? Which view of the grace of
Christianity corresponds most exactly with their ex-

 

 
CXXXV1

treme misery? Which view of the spiritual obe-
dience and love of the Christian life is most closely
allied to the object at which they aim? But we will
not press these questions. The confessions of the
very best and most holy men, are the liveliest com-
ment on the language of the divine writers. And
the misgivings and penitential acknowledgments, as
death and eternity approach, of many, who, during
life, espoused the lower interpretation, speak loudly
enough on this subject.

We rather go on to ask this question— Which
system of divinity produces in the largest measure
those fruits and effects, which are ascribed to the
gospel in the New Testament? Now it will be
conceded on all hands, that ¢ by their fruits we are
to know” the true teachers, and distinguish them
from the false. Does, then, the lowering doctrines
of modern times on the fall and ruin of man, and
the redemption and grace of Christ, and the kindred
topics, awaken the souls of sinners, reclaim the un-

godly, arouse the careless; revive religion where it

has decayed, and preserve it where it flourishes ?
Does it not, on the contrary, first leave those who
preach it cold and inactive, and then fall without effi-
cacy on the ears of the hearers? Does it not prove
insufficient for converting the heart, turning it from
the power of sin, and raising it to the love and obe-
dience of God? Does it not fail of comforting the
afflicted conscience, and inspiring a hope of heaven?
Does it not stop short of all the mighty ends which
primitive Christianity produced ? And is there not
a constant tendency in it to deteriorate and sink lower
and lower, till the grace of the gospel is almost

CXXXVil

excluded, and little remains beyond a tame morality
and an external form of religion? And does not the
decay of spiritual religion go on, till, by the mercy
of God, a revival of the great doctrines of salvation
by grace, in the plain language and spirit of the
Scriptures, takes place, and recalls man to the true
standard of faith and practice?

The fact plainly is as these inquiries are designed
to describe it. On the contrary, the simple preach-
ing of ¢ Christ crucified,” is still the ¢ power of
God and the wisdom of God.” Wherever the high
standard of really evangelical truth is raised, and
the Saviour is preached to a lost world, and the re-
generating and sanctifying operations of the Spirit
are avowed, and the full consolation and joy of faith
expounded, and the elevated rule of Christian morals
sustained ; there, under whatever incidental defects
or disadvantages, the effects of conversion, love, and
obedience are copiously produced ; man is indeed
turned from sin unto God, the breast of the rebel
is subdued and softened, his whole character is
changed, and the seal of God is impressed upon the
declaration of his own truth, by the displays of his
own efficient grace and mercy.

It strongly confirms the conclusion we thus come
to, to consider that the Universal Church of Christ
has held these great truths which are now so much
opposed. Look to the early Fathers of the Church,
and you find the doctrines of man’s total apostacy,
and his salvation by grace only, to be the life of all
their instructions. As those mighty truths were
corrupted by human philosophy, or overwhelmed by
superstition, the power of religion sunk ; her glory

 

 
CXXXVIil

in the conversion of men was lost, and she fell back
into a cold controversial spirit, which brought on the
ages of darkness and spiritual tyranny. = What, we
ask, was the doctrine of Cyprian in the third cen-
tury, of Ambrose in the fourth, and Augustine in
the fifth? What gave life to their exhortations, and
influence to their labours? Was it not the pure
evangelical light, which, notwithstanding many sub-
ordinate errors and much superstition, shone forth in
their laborious discourses and writings? Even to
the time of Bernard, the last of the Fathers, the
name and grace of Christ, in the full efficacy of his
mercy, pervaded the theology, and sanctified the
hearts of men. It was only as this healing doctrine
was utterly lost under the accumulation of supersti-
tion and idolatry, that the melancholy desertion and
apostacy of the visible Church in the West took
place. In the midst of this thick darkness, how-
ever, it was the same truth of grace which preserved,
among the Albigenses and Waldenses, the life and
influence of the gospel. And at the Reformation,
what was it which Luther, and Melancthon, and
Cranmer, and Zuingle, and Calvin, and Beza, and
Knox taught? Did they not revive the old scrip-
tural doctrines of original sin, justification by faith,
salvation by grace, regeneration and communion with
God by the Holy Spirit, and spiritual obedience, as
the fruit of all this in the temper and life? Some
of these truths, indeed, were held in a general and
loose manner by the church of Rome, but they were
enervated by distinctions and refinements, and over-
whelmed by superstitious usages and rites. The
reformers boldly appealed from the erroneous opinions

 

CXXX1X

of men, to the infallible word of God. They set
forth the ruin of the fall in all its extent; they in-
sisted on the preventing grace of the Spirit, as neces-
sary to all true repentance; they gloried only in the
cross of the Lord Jesus Christ, and in justification
by his merits; they called men off from works of
external mortification and unauthorized penance, to
the good deeds, and virtuous habits, and divine prin-
ciples taught by the sacred writers. And what was
the effect ? In most of the nations of Europe, thou-
sands and thousands were really converted to the
service and love of God. The reformed doctrines
spread with the rapidity of lightning, a pure form of
Christianity was established in many states, and the
Papacy was shaken to its base.

Let any one impartially read the Confessions and
Articles of the Reformed churches, and those of our
own church amongst the very first; and he will see
that the high standard of sentiment and practice
which we espouse, was universally maintained. ‘What
is the language of these noble documents ? Does it
resemble the enfeebled and dubious strain of modern
theology; or does it not rather take the plain and
strong ground of the ancient doctrine of the entire
apostacy of man, and the efficacious grace of God?
And in all the Protestant churches since the Re-
formation, mark the progress or decline of real piety
and holiness, and you will find them uniformly to
bear a relation to the pure doctrines of grace upheld
or denied. Where these doctrines have flourished,
the presence and mercy of God in the conversion
of men have attested the truth: where a decay has
taken place, and human morals, or a low system of

a A A RS Se 3

 

 
cxl

divinity, has usurped the place of the unadulterated
gospel, every thing has fallen in proportion—men
have remained dead and unmoved in their sins; the
form has extinguished the power of godliness; cold
and proud pretensions to orthodoxy have been united
with a worldly life; the clergy have deserted the
lofty function of being heralds of salvation and ex-
amples to their people, and have been lost in secu-
lar politics, in human attachments to an established
creed, and angry controversies with those who would
point out to them a more excellent way.” Thus
things have grown worse and worse, till God has
granted a revival by the secret guidance of his
Spirit. Then the old and forgotten tenets of human
guilt and impotency, and divine mercy and power,
have been raised up again as from the grave, the
old standard of truth again erected; public opi-
nion has been gradually changed; the former state
of decline admitted and deplored ; and the wonted
efficacy of Christian doctrine seen once more, in its
proper fruits of conversion, holiness, and love.

But we are indulging ourselves in reflections
which carry us too far from our immediate design.
The Analogy is a Treatise of Evidences, and could
only be expected to allude generally to these mo-
mentous topics. We would not assume the truth
of the evangelical system of which we speak. We
invite only to inquiry; we appeal boldly to every
kind of testimony which such a case admits; and
we leave the result with confidence to the judgment
of every unbiassed and enlightened theological stu-
dent. One reason of our venturing to dwell on
these topics is the well-fixed persuasion, that our

 

cxli

writers on Evidences have grievously mistaken their
own duty as advocates of Christianity, as well as
the interests of truth and religion generally, in not
presenting the fair and adequate account of the doc-
trines and morals of the gospel. We do not mean
that they should involve themselves in controversy,
nor even enter on the details of Christian doctrines
and morals. Let them keep to their own province,
the defence and establishment of Christianity gene-
rally; but let the references to the contents and
tenor of that religion be, so far as they go, just
and complete. Let the little they do say, be accu-
rate. Let what is given to their readers, convey an
idea of what the spirit and design of the whole
system is. Let the parts touched on, connect natu-
rally with all the rest which are not specifically
treated. This conduct becomes the magnitude and
importance of the subject. It prepares the reader
of evidences to submit to the yoke of Christ. It
exhibits religion attractive, efficacious, entire. It
meets the feelings and wants of the sincere and
humble inquirer. It shuts out a thousand misap-
prehensions and errors. It insures the blessing of
God in a larger measure, upon the triumphant evi-
dences of our faith. It is the most simple, upright,
straightforward course. *

Still we are far, very far from undervaluing the

labours of the Apologists and Defenders of Chris-

 

* We cannot here withhold our tribute of admiration from the
work of Mr. Sumner on the «Evidence of Christianity, as de-
rived from its reception, and from the nature of its doctrine.”
This masterly treatise forms an era in the history of writings in
defence of our faith.

 

 
cxlii

tianity. They have performed excellent service.
Their acuteness and skill, their penetrating obser-
vations, their indefatigable researches, the force of
their reasonings, and the depth of their knowledge,
have deserved highly of the sacred cause. * The Ex-
ternal evidences have naturally been most adequately
unfolded, because the interior virtues and properties
of the Christian scheme came less within their scope.
But we adhere, notwithstanding, to our conviction,
that all the summaries of the revealed doctrines,
which even the argument from external evidences
require, should be a part and parcel, as it were, of
the entire possession, should resemble the apostolic
examples, and be expressed as nearly as possible in
the apostolic language. We do not stop to say
how much more this should be the case in Treatises
on the Internal evidences. We rather go on to
observe, that, in the case immediately before us, the
argument from Analogy, a similar fidelity to the full
demands of the Christian scheme would have had
the very best effect. That we do not depreciate the
talents and labours of Bishop Butler, must have been
obvious to every reader of these pages. We have
even expressed the hope, the rational hope, spring-
ing from a judgment of charity, that in his own mind
he followed the true doctrine, and that he was far
from intending to produce those consequences to
which his language may lead. We have also fully
admitted his correct and powerful defence of the
scheme of Christianity to a certain extent. It is
this very thing which makes us the more regret, that
he had not carried his views on, and given a more
full and accurate idea, so far as his plan of argument

 

cxhii

allowed, of all the efficacy and consolation of the
gospel. His work is cold. He seems rather like
a man forced to be a Christian, than one rejoicing
in its blessings. It is impossible to calculate the
additional good which the Analogy would have ef-
fected, if its unnumbered readers had been instructed
more adequately by it in the spiritual death and ruin
of man in all his powers by the fall, in the inesti-
mable constitution of special grace established by the
gospel, in the gratuitous justification of the sincere
believer in the sacrifice of Christ, in the divine na-
ture and properties of true faith, in the mighty
operations of the Holy Ghost in illuminating and
sanctifying man, and in the consolation and univer-
sal obedience which are the fruits of faith. Proba-
bly there is no student in divinity, during the last
half century or more, who has not read, and read
with admiration and profit, this astonishing work.
How many of these have been confirmed in a de-
fective theology, strengthened in prejudices against
truth, and persuaded to adopt a low system of doc-
trine in the instruction of others, from the incidental
language, and hazardous expressions which occur in
it! But so it is. There are in human life few
things complete. What we meet with in one writer,
we miss in another. The union of rare and exquisite
talent with the highest tone of sacred feeling and
doctrine, was perhaps rarely ever witnessed as it was
in PascaL. And the good which his masterly work,
though posthumous, and the writing of a Roman
Catholic, has produced, has been correspondent both
in extent and in quality. The unexampled effects
of his ¢ Thoughts on Religion,” attest the solidity

AP ARCA a SR TR LRAT

 

 
exliv

of the main points to which we are now adverting.
Pascal surpasses all other writers on Evidences, be-
cause he conjoins the most lively and acute genius,
and the finest powers of reasoning, with the full ad-
mission of the great fundamental tenets of the Chris-
tianity which he defends. The single doctrine of
the entire corruption of man by the fall, sheds a
light on all his arguments, and meets the state and
feelings of every pious reader, whilst it tends to in-
struct those who are as yet unacquainted with this most
important truth. It is thus that Pascal’s great work,
though not free from many of the errors of his church,
remains unrivalled in its class. And the work of
Bishop Butler would have been little inferior to it,
if it had united, with its profound and just views of
the order of God in his natural government, and the
correspondence of his moral and relifious order in
revelation, the full view of human depravity and of
divine grace, which that revelation opened before
him. It is impossible not to see with what ease a
writer, who has proceeded so far, and conducted us so
securely to a certain point, would have gone on in
the course he was pursuing, till he had embraced the
vast compass of experimental and practical religion,
and had thus left behind him a monument, not only
of triumph over objections against the general scheme
of Christianity, but of victory over those prejudices,
and that tame acquiescence, which too often obscure
the real doctrine of our recovery, as we have ventured
to delineate it.

8. For this is the last topic on which we shall
presume to offer any remarks. We observe, there-
fore, that the very same arguments from the analogy

 

 

 

cxlv

of nature which silence the objections raised against
Christianity, as expounded by our Author in a very
mitigated sense, would have served to meet the objec-
tions raised against it, in its full Scriptural extent.

1. For instance, the doctrine of the fall of our
nature might have been defended in its genuine form,
quite as triumphantly as it now is. The following
is the conclusion of Butler's argument :=—¢ Who-
ever considers all these, and some other obvious
things, will think he has little reason to object against
the Scripture account, that mankind is in a state of
degradation ; against this being the fact, how diffi-
cult soever he may think it to account for, or even
to form a distinct conception of the occasion and cir-
cumstances of it. But that the crime of our first
parents was the occasion of our being placed in a
more disadvantageous condition, is a thing through-
out, and particularly analogous to what we see in the
daily course of natural Providence.” (Part II. Chap.
V. § 5.)—Surely, if the expressions used by the
inspired writers were substituted for the defective
ones of this passage, the argument would hold equally
good. Nay, it would have more force, from more
exactly corresponding with the facts of the case. For
men, alas ! are not merely in “a state of degrada-
tion,” but of “alienation from the life of God,
through the ignorance that is in them, because of the
blindness of their hearts;” mankind were not only
“ placed in a more disadvantageous condition by the
crime of our first parents,” but by one man sin en-
tered into the world, and death by sin; and so death
passed upon all men, for that all have sinned;” as
the inspired Apostle declares.

G 17

Te a Na iki —

 

 
cxlvi

11. Again, the argument of our Author, from our
confessed ignorance of what a revelation might be
expected to contain, and of what particular offices
and duties might be assigned to a Divine Mediator,
is just as valid when applied to the true view of the
mediatorial grace of Christ, as we conceive it to be
revealed in Scripture, (always supposing we are right
in that view,) as to the limited view to which he
actually applies it. The hope which the order of
Providence suggests of the moral consequences 0
sin being in some way remedied under God’s govern-
ment, remains as it does. The inefficacy of mere re-
pentance and reformation, as apparent from the course
of natural things, remains as it does. The interven-
tion of Christ as the great Mediator, by his one
vicarious propitiation and atonement, remains as it
does. If, then, the effects of this mighty sacrifice are
not merely the procuring our repentance to be _
cepted, and the putting us in a capacity of og
but the actual gift of pardon, justification, and a
title to eternal life, by faith only—the inference 1s as
firm, and the analogy as clear, as In the present case.
The reasoning is even more close, if the facts, as oe
contend they do—that is, the real state of “man, t s
positive benefits received by the sincere believer, an
the decisive testimony of Scripture on the subject—
s out.
Re Nor can we discern any gap in the argument,
concerning faith being the instrument of Fessiviyy
Jesus Christ as the greatest gift of God—if fai
be interpreted in that higher and transcendent Sente
in which we have put it. The reasoning stands
just as it does. Only at present 1t applies to a gen-

cxlvii

eral indiscriminate belief in the truths of revelation;
and, in the case as we would propose it, it would
embrace a particular, personal, holy, affectionate obe-
dience of the heart to the testimony of God, to his
Son, and to life in Him. If objections are invalid
or frivolous against the first, much more must they
be so against the second.

1v. In like manner, the admirable reasoning of
our Author, from the clear and particular analogy of
nature, that a moral government is going on in the
world, and will be completed in a future life—a go-
vernment in which every one shall be punished or
rewarded according to his works—loses no part of
its force, if the grace of God, and the fruits of faith
flowing from it, are included in the notion of the
deeds of the righteous to which the reward of end-
less life shall be assigned. All depends on the
primary question—What is the real doctrine of
Scripture on the point? Assuming this, which
we are obliged to do for the sake of argument, we
must say, we can see no different, or stronger ob-
Jections against a moral and righteous government
under the Christian dispensation being now carry-
ing on, if the true view of the character, and works,
and piety, and humility, and other attendant virtues
of the believer in Christ be taken into the account
of his general good deeds, than if the historical faith,
and feeble penitence, and. defective motives, and
partial morality of the external Christian be mainly
regarded. On the contrary, the argument gains in-
comparably in strength and exactness, if the Scrip-
tural hypothesis be adhered to.

G2

 

 

 
exlviii

v. Again, the full doctrine of the operations of
the Holy Ghost, in the sense we have given to it,
is just as reconcilable with all we see in the order of
nature, and just as free from any valid objections, as
that aid and assistance to good men is, to which our
Author chiefly restricts it. It is no more contrary
to any conceptions or expectations we might have
formed of Christianity, to find in it a provision for
restoring our corrupted nature, by an effective renewal,
than to aid it only by less supplies of light, and
strength, and consolation. The mystery of the
Spirit’s operations is the same in both cases—the
danger of enthusiastic pretensions the same—the
manner of recovering man by the revelation of a
Divine Sanctifier the same—the obligations we owe
to the Holy Spirit, in the relation he stands in to us,
the same. We mean the same in kind—open to ro
other objections; proceeding on the same sort of
scheme. Indeed Butler actually uses, at times, as
we have had occasion to state, the strongest language
that could be required, and quotes once the expres-
sion of our Saviour, * Except a man be born of the
Spirit, he cannot see the kingdom of heaven.” He
needed only to have pursued out these admissions,
and incorporated them into his digest of the Chris-
tian code, in order to have discharged the entire
measure of his duty of a theological instructor.

vi. The observations also, excellently acute as
they are, which Butler makes on the system of means
working to various high ends, and on the moral dis-
cipline and probation which the state of things in
this world constitutes to the Christian, would retain

cxlix

all their fitness, and would conclude as strongly, if
the spiritual nature of real obedience and love to
God, and of the peace and consolation inspired, as
we conceive, by the gospel, had been in his view, as
they do now. The force of habits, the progress
men make from one degree of character, and one ca-
pacity of excellence to another—the discipline aris-
ing from the wickedness of the world, and the trials
to which piety and virtue are exposed—the attain-
ment of states of mind, and measures of knowledge
and goodness by these means, which could scarcely
have been conceived of in the first stages of the pro-
gress—the preparation for future happiness and
security thus gradually made—the influence of our
present trials on our future condition, in a way of
natural consequence—these, and many other of our
Author’s finest remarks will stand, whichever system
of morals and consolation we adopt. They apply,
however, with double propriety, if we retain the
higher standard of love, obedience, self-denial, watch-
fulness, and peace. Their force is thus augmented.
The occasions for them are more striking; whilst
the difficulties remain for substance the same.

vit. The only plausible objection which we can
suppose to be offered to the view of the Christian
scheme, as a scheme of grace, is, that it presents the
Almighty as unequal in the distribution of his gifts.
For, undoubtedly, if the real corruption and disorder
of mankind by the fall be what we have stated—if the
remaining powers of natural religion be so feeble and
inefficient—if the operations of the Holy Ghost be
so mighty and distinguishing—if the blessings flow-

Gd PS RAR es

 

 

 
cl

ing from the mediation and sacrifice of Christ be so
exuberant—if, finally, the standard of Christian love
and holiness be so high—then it follows that man
does not, in fact, begin with God in the application
and reception of the blessings of Christ, but God
begins with man; then it follows, that salvation is
wholly of grace, and not of human effort and choice in
any degree: and thus we arrive at the necessary con-
fession, that there is, in the gospel, a special gift
and collation of effectual grace, previous to any sav-
ing effects being derived from the death of Christ.
And this confession we scruple not to make. There
is such a thing as the special and effectual grace of
God. We do ascribe to Almighty God all the will
and the power which we have to do any thing that is
good. We do acknowledge, that not only* the
means of salvation in the sacrifice of Christ are of
God; that not only the offers of salvation in the doc-
trine of the gospel are of God; but that also the
grace to accept these offers—the grace which illu-
minates, and persuades, and converts, and sanctifies,
and consoles—is of God. A mystery this, which
we attempt not to fathom; but the practical use of
which we may clearly discern. For, as this doctrine
is never so stated as to lessen the responsibility of
man, supersede the use of means, weaken the duty
of every one who hears the gospel to repent and
obey it; or excuse, in the slightest measure, the guilt
of impenitence and disobedience: so it manifestly
tends to deep humility of mind under a sense of our
helplessness and misery ; to entire renunciation of our
own presumptuous and unaided efforts, and to simple

 

 

cli
dependence on the influences of grace, to enable us
to comply with the calls of the gospel as addressed
to us. ‘That is, it puts us in the attitude of sup-
pliants. It makes our feelings correspond with our
real situation. It guards us against false refuges,
and directs us to the true one. And it teaches us
to ascribe the glory of all we do, where alone it is
becoming, to the gracious will and mercy of our com-
passionate God and Father.

And surely the objection raised against this in-
equality of the divine gifts, may be moderated at
least, and silenced, by the very same arguments which
our Author so solidly employs on similar subjects.
‘We obviously see, in the order of natural Providence,
this inequality ; that is, some men have advantages,
opportunities, instructions, means of attaining bene-
fits, endowments of mind and body, facilities in their
moral trial and probation, which others have not.
The diversity of cases is infinite. The general laws
by which they are produced, are to us unknown.
The speculative difficulties of comprehending the
scheme of things in which they are found, are insu-
perable. Still things are as they are; and all thoughts
of harshness and severity are excluded by recollect-
ing, that every one shall be judged at last by an in-
finitely gracious Creator, who will not require of any,
more than what was committed to his trust. ¢¢ Shall
not the Judge of all the earth do right ?” is the ques-
tion applicable to the more profound mystery involved
in the Scriptural account of our salvation, as well as
to the ordinary irregularities of the gifts of Provi-
dence, as defended by our Author. We cannot

 

 

 

 
clii

reasonably expect the same measure of information
concerning God’s proceedings, as concerning our
own duty. The reasons of the collation of grace are
with God; the duty of seeking that grace, on the
assured promise that we shall obtain it, is with us.
The inequalities in the divine gifts is a secret of the
Almighty; the improvement and right use of the
abundant measure of these gifts which we severally
possess, is the obvious province of man. If the
statement of the Christian scheme, which we are de-
fending, be scriptural, the argument from analogy
moderates and silences all objections which are made
against it, to every fair and considerate mind. We
say moderates and silences them ; for it does not un-
dertake to answer them. The case, for any thing
we know, admits not of a satisfactory explanation to
finite creatures like us, at least in the very small part
of it as yet revealed.

vii. Nay, further, if the profound and incom-
prehensible subject of the Divine prescience and
predestination should be considered as springing
from the topic which we have just been noticing, as
it undoubtedly does in one form or other, and as
the articles of the Reformed Churches explicitly
make it to do; the very same arguments which
Butler employs to guard against the fatal conse-
quences deduced from the doctrine of philosophical
necessity, are applicable to any dangerous conse-
quences which might be drawn from it. The Scrip-
tural doctrine of predestination (without determining,
too minutely, what that doctrine is, for which this is
not the place) no more excludes or weakens delibera-

 

 

 

 

cliii
tion on our part, choice, the use of means, the acting
from certain principles to certain ends, than the
opinion of necessity does. If the argument of ana-
logy, from the facts of God’s natural providence and
government, silences the difficulties or abuses, call
them which you please, which spring from the scheme
of necessity ; much more does it silence the difficulties
which are sometimes linked on the doctrine of pre-
destination—a doctrine, on all interpretations of it,
essentially milder and more intelligible than necessity,
and resting on totally different principles. If, for
example, “a child who should be educated by a
Necessarian to imagine that he was not a subject of
praise or blame, because he could not act otherwise
than he did, is refuted by matter of fact, by the in-
conveniences he brings on himself and occasions
others; and is thus taught by experience, that his
applying this scheme of necessity to practice and
common life, is reasoning inconclusively from his
principles, even supposing them to be true; how much
more ought the man who should deduce the like per-
nicious inferences from the doctrine of predestination,
to consider himself as refuted by matter of fact, and
be taught that he reasoned inconclusively in apply-
ing his principles to common life ! For the Divine
predestination, as revealed in the Scriptures, is not
a blind fate, or necessity ; but the prescience and fore-
ordination of events, according to the infinite wisdom,
goodness, mercy, and power of the Sovereign Lord,
and Father of all. The truth is, that, on either
scheme, the application of the rule of the divine will,
to our duties in life, is false, dangerous, and contrary
G3

 

 

 

 

 
cliv

to the whole analogy of God’s government over us,
as reasonable and accountable beings. On either
scheme, or notwithstanding either scheme, it remains,
as our Author well observes, a fixed and fundamental
truth, that * God will finally, and upon the whole,
in his eternal government, render his creatures happy
or miserable, by some means or other, as they behave
well or ill.”

1x. The practical difficulties which still remain,
and which must remain, on these and similar points,
are, lastly, capable of being entirely relieved or
silenced, by carrying on the admirable arguments of
the Bishop on the ignorance of man, and the incom-
prehensibility of the vast scheme of the divine govern-
ment to him, in his present state. Christianity is
obviously a plan only partially, very partially revealed.
We see but a small part of God’s ways in his na-
tural providence, and we see still less of them in his
supernatural and stupendous revelation of grace.
The very things which we think irregularities and
defects, may, for aught we know, be instances of
surprising goodness and wisdom. The relations of
each circumstance which now puzzles us, may stretch
beyond us infinitely, and be connected with events,
past, present, and future, in an endless series. The
difficulties which press upon religion, arise chiefly
from our presumption in wishing to understand and
reconcile God’s acts and will; not from our inability
to discern the path of our own duty. Our obliga-
tions are clearly set before us; it is the divine govern-
ment and purposes which are not clear to us. And
surely the deplorable and pitiable ignorance in which

 

 

 

clv

we find ourselves, as to the order of things in the
natural world, may reconcile us to the consequences
of the same ignorance, as to the order of things in
religion. * It is one chief act of faith, thus to bow
before the majesty of God; and it is one distinct test
of humility, to be willing so to do. They offend
equally against both these Christian graces, who,
on the one hand, deny or explain away the divine
prescience and fore-ordination, under the notion of
preserving man’s free agency and responsibility ; or
who, on the other, weaken or undermine man’s
reasonable and accountable nature, on the plea of
magnifying the grace of God. They offend equally
against faith and humility, who either wholly con-
ceal the mysteries of religion, with the view of pre-
venting the abuse of them, or who obtrude and over-
state them, on the pretence of discharging the calls
of gratitude, and abating the confidence of man.
The depth of human ignorance should be ever im-
pressed on our minds, when we advance a step,
either in maintaining or impugning any doctrines
which relate peculiarly to the ever-blessed God.
The rule of Scripture—its terms, its spirit; the
proportion in which different truths are stated, the
bearings and relations of them to each other; the
consequences deduced from them; the manner in
which they represent man; and the character and
attributes which they ascribe to Almighty God, should
all be scrupulously adhered to. Our ignorance en-
joins this implicit submission. And, in this temper,
the scheme of Christianity, as we conceive of it, is
open to no more difficulties than the scheme of it,

 

 

 

 
clvi

as stated by Bishop Butler. The argument from
analogy covers either. And the only question that
fairly remains, is, Which approaches the nearest to
Holy Scriptures? And on this question we cannot
think any doubt would long harass a candid mind, if
prejudice and prepossession were laid aside, and the
study of the human heart, and prayer for divine illu-
mination, were connected with the examination of the
Sacred Volume.

But it is time for us to draw to a close this too
much extended Essay. We are far from flattering
ourselves that we shall succeed in persuading our
readers, generally, of the truth of all we have ad-
vanced. In the first division of the Essay, indeed,
we can anticipate but one gpinion. The admiration
of the genius of Butler is a national sentiment ; and
if we have at all succeeded in expressing, in a shorter
compass, his main arguments, we shall not be thought
to have written unnecessarily, at least for the young.
On the connexion, also, of the argument from ana-
logy with the other branches of the Christian evi-
dence, we hope we have advanced nothing which
will be thought open to controversy. It is in the
latter part of the Essay, where we express our dif-
ference of opinion from our great Author, on the
scheme and bearing of Christianity, that we must
expect opponents. The case cannot be otherwise.
Indeed, fair and manly discussion in the temper
which Christianity inspires, is far from being un-
friendly to the interests of truth. A calm and un-
meaning acquiescence is much more so. Torpor
precedes death. We are exhorted to * contend ear-

nestly for the faith once delivered to the saints ;” and

this exhortation implies material differences of judg-
ment amongst professed Christians. Let me only
earnestly recommend that moderation and charity on
questions really doubtful, and that zeal and fervour
on points of fundamental import, which the whole
tendency of the work, which we have been endea-
vouring to illustrate, strongly enforces. We are
placed in this world in a mysterious and progressive
state of things. Darkness and ignorance hang over
much of our path. Charity is therefore our peculiar
duty in such circumstances. Even the truths most
directly practical and fundamental, touch on others
which are less clearly revealed. To attain uniformity
of “opinion on all subordinate points, is a hopeless
pursuit. The education of different men, their pre-
judices, their various talents and advantages—the
party spirit, the unfavourable habits, and the defec-
tive measures of religious attainments which are found
amongst them—the mere ambiguity of language, will
constantly occasion a diversity, a great diversity of
judgments. The only healing measures in the midst
of these disorders, is the spirit of love—Ilove which
rejoices to hope the best of others, which interprets
favourably doubtful matters, which seeks the real
welfare and happiness of all—love which bears and
forbears, which reconciles and softens, which unites
and binds together, which consoles and blesses, the
hearts where it reigns. It is by this divine prin-
ciple that we shall most dispose persons of various
sentiments to act in concert ‘with us. It is this
which neutralizes and disarms opposition. It is

 

 

 
clviii

this which tends both to lessen the amount of our
differences, and to take away almost all the evil of
those which remain. Persons who cannot alto-

gether think alike, may join in mutual love and-

good-will—may act as one in points out of con-
troversy—may grant cheerfully the freedom of judg-
ment which they themselves require—may aim at
narrowing, instead of extending and widening, the
grounds of separation; and may believe others to be
guided by a similar conviction with themselves. It
is surprising how rapidly controversies would die
away, if this course were pursued. The questions
on which real Christians substantially agree, are in-
finitely more important to them, and more clear in
themselves, than those on which they differ. Let
us then reserve our zeal and fervour for these uncon-
tested matters. They demand all our concern—all
our time—all our care. It is the magnifying of
other points, beyond all reason, and beyond Scrip-
ture, which has occasioned the divisions in the
church. Let it be one effect of the study of Bishop
Butler, to moderate our opinion of our own know-
ledge and attainments, and to direct our efforts and
zeal into their only safe channel. Humility is the
proper effect of reading such an Author. We shall
thus present the fairer face of Christianity to such
as doubt of its truth. The eloquence of a consistent,
benevolent temper and life is never without its effect.
If, indeed, Christianity is robbed of its characteristic
glories, and its doctrines and morals are gradually
reduced to the standard of a corrupt world, there is
nothing left to contend about. No charity can hope

clix

well of such a religion. But when the peculiar
truths of revelation are sincerely retained, and the
main doctrines and duties flowing from the sacrifice
of our Lord Jesus Christ and the influences of his
Spirit, are insisted on, then it is that the correspon-
dent temper and behaviour are naturally required,
and become so incomparably important. The most
formidable objection against religion, practically speak-
ing, is the defective conduct of those who profess it.
The light of a holy example shines around. The
infidel must be at times struck with the contrast
between the ohvious benevolence and friendliness,
the self-denial and activity of the true Christian, and
the selfishness, pride, and indolence of a worldly
person. The amiableness and usefulness of the one,
is in deep contrast with the repulsive and self-indul-
gent tone of the other. The effect of this contrast
is unavoidable. The infidel and sceptic know the
human passions too well not to estimate, in some
measure, what must be the force of the principles
which can overcome them. In this peaceful victory
of holiness and truth let us persevere. The acknow-
ledged excellence of our conduct will add incompar-
ably to the evidences which we gather from Butler
or other writers, when we are called on to state them
in argument. The spirit of love will dispose an ad-
versary to listen to a calm defence of our faith. All
arrogance—all airs of superiority—all harshness of
manner—all over-statements, will be banished from
our friendly and affectionate efforts, and the path of
truth be smoothed and rendered inviting. Indeed
all the stupendous doctrines of Christianity are de-~

 

 

 
clx

signed to form us to that temper of gratitude to God,
and of benevolence to man, from which the conduct
we are recommending immediately flows. And it is
one main recommendation of those doctrines, in their
simple and native vigour, as we have endeavoured to
state them, that they, and they only, produce the
uniform Christian temper. Without this seal and
confirmation of the truth, all our reasonings, how-
ever conclusive, will fail of convincing. With it,
the weakest and most defective statement of the
grounds of our faith, will often succeed. Religion

is not so much a matter of intellectual effort, as of

the obedience of the heart and affections. Chris-
tianity, in all its discoveries, and duties, and promises,
is so adapted to the state and wants of man, that it
can only be rejected when there is an inward aversion
to goodness. The form of argument which that
aversion may assume, has been sufficiently refuted a

thousand times. The last resources of it are cut off

by the process of Analogical reasoning so admirably
adopted by Butler. Let this alienation of mind be
overcome, and man falls prostrate in adoration at the
foot of the cross. The doctrines of the gospel suit
and meet his feelings and necessities. ~The evi-
dences of it are admitted to have their genuine force.
The fruits of holiness and consolation soon begin to
appear; and these fruits in the convert to the faith,
being in harmony with the same effects in the tem-

per and spirit of his instructor, attest the identity of

religion, and increase in both of them the happy as-

surance, that they have found the supreme good of

man—the real spring of truth and felicity—the un-

 

 

 

 

 

 

-clxi

doubted revelation of the divine will—the exuberant
source of pardon, peace, and holiness—the most
amazing discovery of the mercy and grace of God—
the correspondent parts of that vast scheme which is
impressed with the same features in the works of
nature and of grace, and which are the pledge and
guide to the eternal rest and joy of heaven.

D.'W,

IsLiNnGgTON, December, 1824.

 

 

 
 

 

CONTENTS.

ADVERTISEMENT,
INTRODUCTION,

PART L
OF NATURAL RELIGION.

CHAP. 1. Of a Future Life,

CHAP. II. Of the Government of God by Rewards and
Punishments; and particularly of the latter, . . 208

CHAP. IIL Of the Moral Government of God, : 223

CHAP. IV. Of a State of Probation, as implying Trial,
Difficulties, and Danger, . " . ‘ . :

253
CHAP. V. Of a State of Probation, as intended for Moral

Discipline and Improvement, . . . . . 263

CHAP. VI. Of the Opinion of Necessity, considered as
influencing Practice, . : : ' ‘ . . 292

CHAP. VII. Of the Government of God, considered asa
Scheme, or Constitution, imperfectly comprehended, 312

CONCLUSION, . . : . : : : . 326

 

 

 
CONTENTS.

PART II

OF REVEALED RELIGION.

CHAP. I. Of the Importance of Christianity,

CHAP. II. Of the supposed Presumption against a Reve-
lation, considered as Miraculous,

CHAP. IIL Of our incapacity of Judging what were to
be expected in a Revelation; and the credibility, from

Analogy, that it must contain things appearing liable
to Objections,

CHAP. IV. Of Christianity, considered as a Scheme, or
Constitution, imperfectly comprehended, .

CHAP. V. Of the particular System of Christianity; the

Appointment of a Mediator, and the Redemption of
the World by him,

. . .

CHAP. VI. Of the Want of Universality in Revelation ;
and of the supposed Deficiency in the Proof of it,

CHAP. VII. Of the particular Evidence for Christianity,
CHAP. VIII. Of the Objections which may be made
against arguing from the Analogy of Nature to Reli-

gion,

CONCLUSION,

TWO DISSERTATIONS.

Dissent. I. Of Personal Identity,
II. Of the Nature of Virtue,

Page
337

359

 

 

 

THE

ANALOGY OF RELIGION.

 

 

 
 

TO THE

RIGHT HONOURABLE

CHARLES, LORD TALBOT,

. BARON OF HENSOL,

LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR OF GREAT BRITAIN,

THE FOLLOWING

Treatise
1S, WITH ALL RESPECT,
INSCRIBED,
IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF THE HIGHEST OBLIGATIONS
TO THE LATE
LORD BISHOP OF DURHAM,
AND
TO HIMSELF,

BY HIS LORDSHIP'S MOST DUTIFUL,
MOST DEVOTED,

AND MOST HUMBLE SERVANT,

JOSEPH BUTLER.

 

 
A

 

i i ia

"rr

 

 

ADVERTISEMENT.

Ir the reader should meet here with any thing
which he had not before attended to, it will not be
in the observations upon the constitution and course
of nature, these being all obvious; but in the appli-
cation of them: in which, though there is nothing
but what appears to me of some real weight, and
therefore of great importance; yet he will observe
several things which will appear to him of very little,
if he can think things to be of little importance,
which are of any real weight at all, upon such a sub-
ject as religion.  lowever, the proper force of the
following treatise, lies in the whole general analogy
considered together. '

It is come, I know not how, to be taken for
granted, by many persons, that Christianity is not so
much as a subject of inquiry; but that it is now, at
length, discovered to be fictitious. And accordingly
they treat it, as if, in the present age, this were an
agreed point among all people of discernment; and
nothing remained, but to set it up as a principal sub-
ject of mirth and ridicule, as it were by way of re-
prisals, for its having so long interrupted the plea-
sures of the world. On the contrary, thus much, at
least, will be here found, not taken for granted, but

H 17

 

 
170

proved, that any reasonable man, who will thoroughly
consider the matter, may be as much assured as he
is of his own being, that it is not, however, so clear
a case, that there is nothing in it. There is, I
think, strong evidence of its truth ; but it is certain
no one can, upon principles of reason, be satisfied of
the contrary. And the practical consequence to be
drawn from this, is not attended to, by every one
who is concerned in it.

May, 1736.

INTRODUCTION.

PrOBABLE evidence is essentially distinguished from
demonstrative by this, that it admits of degrees; and
of all variety of them, from the highest moral cer-
tainty, to the very lowest presumption. We can-
not indeed say a thing is probably true upon one very
slight presumption for it ; because, as there may be
probabilities on both sides of a question, there may
be some against it : and though there be not, yet a
slight presumption does not beget that degree of con-
viction, which is implied in saying a thing is proba-
bly true. But that the slightest possible presump-
tion is of the nature of a probability, appears from
hence, that such low presumption often repeated,
will amount even to moral certainty. Thus a man’s
having observed the ebb and flow of the tide to-day,
affords some sort of presumption, though the lowest
imaginable, that it may happen again to-morrow.

But the observation of this event for so many days,
and months, and ages together, as it has been ob-
served by mankind, gives us a full assurance that it
will.

That which chiefly constitutes probability is ex-
pressed in the word likely, that is, like some truth®

 

# Verisimile.

H 2

 

 
172

or true event; like it, in itself, in its evidence, in
some more or fewer of its circumstances. For when
we determine a thing to be probably true, suppose
that an event has or will come to pass, it is from the
mind remarking in it a likeness to some other
event, which we have observed has come to pass.
And this observation forms, in numberless daily in-
stances, a presumption, opinion, or full conviction,
that such event has or will come to pass; according
as the observation is, that the like event has some-
times, most commonly, or always, so far as our ob-

servation reaches, come to pass at like distances of
time, or place, or upon like occasions. Hence
arises the belief, that a child, if it lives twenty years,
will grow up to the stature and strength of a man;
that food will contribute to the preservation of its
life, and the want of it for such a number of days be

its certain destruction. So, likewise, the rule and
measure of our hopes and fears concerning the suc-
cess of our pursuits; our expectations that others
will act so and so in such circumstances; and our
judgment that such actions proceed from such prin-
ciples ;—all these rely upon our having observed the
like to what we hope, fear, expect, judge; I say,
upon our having observed the like, either with re-
spect to others or ourselves. And thus, whereas
the prince, * who had always lived in a warm cli-
mate, naturally concluded in the way of analogy,
that there was no such thing as water becoming
hard, because he had always observed it to be fluid
and yielding: we, on the contrary, from analogy,

 

* The story is told by Mr, Locke, in the chapter of Probability.

 

 

 

173

conclude, that there is no presumption at all against
this; that it is supposable there may be frost in Eng-
land any given day in January next; probable, that
there will on some day of the month; and that there
is a moral certainty, that is, ground for an expecta-
tion, without any doubt of it, in some part or other
of the winter.

Probable evidence, in its very nature, affords but
an imperfect kind of information, and is to be con-
sidered as relative only to beings of limited capaci-
ties. For nothing which is the possible object of
knowledge, whether past, present, or future, can be
probable to an infinite Intelligence; since it cannot
but be discerned absolutely, as it is in itself, certainly
true, or certainly false. But, to us, probability is
the very guide of life.

From these things it follows, that in questions of
difficulty, or such as are thought so, where more
satisfactory evidence cannot be had, or is not seen,
if the result of examination be, that there appears,
upon the whole, any the lowest presumption on one
side, and none on the other, or a greater presump-=
tion on one side, though in the lowest degree greater,
this determines the question, even in matters of
speculation; and, in matters of practice, will lay us
under an absolute and formal obligation, in point of
prudence and of interest, to act upon that presump-
tion, or low probability, though it be so low as to
leave the mind in very great doubt which is the
truth. For surely a man is as really bound in pru-
dence to do what upon the whole appears, according
to the best of his judgment, to be for his hap-
piness, as what he certainly knows to be so. Nay,

 

 
174

further, in questions of great consequence, a rea-
sonable man will think it concerns him to remark
lower probabilities and presumptions than these;
such as amount to no more than showing one side of
a question to be as supposable and credible as the
other; nay, such as but amount to much less even than
this. For numberless instances might be mentioned
respecting the common pursuits of life, where a man
would be thought, in a literal sense, distracted, who
would not act, and with great application too, not
only upon an even chance, but upon much less, and
where the probability or chance was greatly against
his succeeding. ®

It is not my design to inquire further into the na-
ture, the foundation, and measure of probability; or
whence it proceeds, that likeness should beget that
presumption, opinion, and full conviction, which the
human mind is formed to receive from it, and which
it does necessarily produce in every one; or to guard

against the errors to which reasoning from analogy
is liable. This belongs to the subject of logic, and
is a part of that subject which has not yet been tho-
roughly considered. Indeed, I shall not take upon
me to say, how far the extent, compass, and force

of analogical reasoning, can be reduced to general
heads and rules, and the whole be formed into a
system. But though so little in this way has been
attempted by those who have treated of our intellec-
tual powers, and the exercise of them, this does not
hinder but that we may be, as we unquestionably
are, assured, that analogy is of weight, in various

 

~* See Chap. vi. Part IL

 

175

degrees, towards determining our judgment, and our
practice. Nor does it in any wise cease to be of
weight in those cases, because persons, either given
to dispute, or who require things to be stated with
greater exactness than our faculties appear to admit
of in practical matters, may find other cases, in which
it is not easy to say, whether it be, or be not, of any
weight; or instances of seeming analogies, which
are really of none. It is enough to the present pur-
pose to observe, that this general way of arguing is
evidently natural, just, and conclusive. For there
is no man can make a question but that the sun will
rise to-morrow, and be seen, where it is seen at all,
in the figure of a circle, and not in that of a square.
Hence, namely from analogical reasoning, Oni-
gen * has with singular sagacity observed, that ¢ he
who believes the Scripture to have proceeded from
him who is the Author of Nature, may well expect
to find the same sort of difficulties in it, as are found
in the constitution of Nature.” And in a like way
of reflection, it may be added, that he who denies
the Scripture to have been from God, upon account
of these difficulties, may, for the very same reason,
deny the world to have been formed by him. On the
other hand, if there be an analogy, or likeness, be-
tween that system of things and dispensation of Pro-
vidence, which revelation informs us of, and that
system of things and dispensation of Providence,
which experience, together with reason, informs us

 

 

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vr ’ ~ Ld a ~

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aravra Tos (nrovos Tov weg) ebTis Abyov, TabTe nei Fig Tes

yeadawy. Philocal. p. 23. Ed. Cant.

 

 
176

of, that is, the known course of nature; this is a
presumption, that they have both the same author
and cause; at least so far as to answer objections
against the former being from God, drawn from any
thing which is analogical or similar to what is in the
latter, which is acknowledged to be from him; for
an Author of nature is here supposed.

Forming our notions of the constitution and go-
vernment of the world upon reasoning, without
foundation for the principles which we assume, whe-
ther from the attributes of God or any thing else, is
building a world upon hypothesis, like Descartes.
Forming our notions upon reasoning from principles
which are certain, but applied to cases to which we
have no ground to apply them, (like those who ex-
plain the structure of the human body, and the na-
ture of diseases and medicines, from mere mathema-
tics, without sufficient data) is an error much akin
to the former: since what is assumed in order to
make the reasoning applicable, is hypothesis. But
it must be allowed just, to join abstract reasonings
with the observation of facts, and argue from such
facts as are known, to others that are like them:
from that part of the Divine government over in-
telligent creatures, which comes under our view, to
that larger and more general government over them,
which is beyond it; and, from what is present, to
collect what is likely, credible, or not incredible,
will be hereafter.

This method, then, of concluding and determin-
ing, being practical, and what, if we will act at all,
we cannot but act upon in the common pursuits of
life; being evidently conclusive, in various degrees,

 

 

 

177

proportionable to the degree and exactness of the
whole analogy or likeness; and having so great au-
thority for its introduction into the subject of reli-
gion, even revealed religion, my design is to apply to
that subject in general, both natural and revealed;
taking for proved that there is an intelligent Author
of Nature, and natural Governor of the world. For
as there is no presumption against this prior to the
proof of it, so it has been often proved with accumu-
lated evidence; from this argument of analogy and
final causes; from abstract reasonings; from the most
ancient tradition and testimony; and from the gene-
ral consent of mankind. Nor does it appear, so far
as I can find, to be denied by the generality of those
who profess themselves dissatisfied with the evidence
of religion.

As there are some who, instead of thus attending
to what is in fact the constitution of Nature, form
their notions of God’s government upon hypothesis;
so there are others who indulge themselves in vain
and idle speculations, how the world might possibly
have been framed otherwise than it is; and upon
supposition that things might, in imagining that
they should, have been disposed and carried on
after a better model, than what appears in the pre-
sent disposition and conduct of them.— Suppose,
now, a person of such a turn of mind to go on with
his reveries, till he had at length fixed upon some
particular plan of Nature, as appearing to him the
best,—one shall scarce be thought guilty of detrac-
tion against human understanding, if one should say,
even beforehand, that the plan which this speculative
person would fix upon, though he were the wisest

H 3

 

 
178

of the sons of men, probably would not be the very
best, even according to his own notions of best;
whether he thought that to be so, which afforded
occasions and motives for the exercise of the great-
est virtue, or which was productive of the greatest
happiness, or that these two were necessarily con-
nected, and ran up into one and the same plan.
However, it may not be amiss, once for all, to see
what would be the amount of these emendations and
imaginary improvements upon the system of Nature,
or how far they would mislead us. And it seems
there could be no stopping, till we cameeto some
such conclusions as these:— That all creatures should
at first be made as perfect and as happy, as they were
capable of ever being: that nothing, to be sure, of
hazard or danger should be put upon them to do,
(some indolent persons would perhaps think, nothing
at all): or certainly, that effectual care should be taken
that they should, whether necessarily or not, yet
eventually, and in fact, always do what was right and
most conducive to happiness, which would be thought
easy for infinite power to effect; either by not giving
them any principles which would endanger their go-
ing wrong, or by laying the right motive of action,
in every instance, before their minds continually in
so strong a manner, as would never fail of inducing
them to act conformably to it: and that the whole
method of government by punishments should be
rejected as absurd; as an awkward round-about me-
thod of carrying things on; nay, as contrary to a
principal purpose, for which it would be supposed
creatures were made, namely, happiness.

Now, without considering what is to be said in

179

particular to the several parts of this train of folly
and extravagance, what has been above intimated is
a full, direct, general answer to it, namely, that we
may see beforehand that we have not faculties for
this kind of speculation. For though it be admit-
ted, that, from the first principles of our nature, we
unavoidably judge or determine some ends to be ab-
solutely in themselves preferable to others, and that
the ends now mentioned, or, if they run up into one,
that this one is absolutely the best, and, consequently,
that we must conclude the ultimate end designed in
the constitution of Nature and conduct of Provi-
dence, is the most virtue and happiness possible; yet
we are far from being able to judge what particular
disposition of things would be most friendly and as-
sistant to virtue, or what means might be absolutely
necessary to produce the most happiness in a system
of such extent as our own world may be, taking in
all that is past and to come, though we should sup-
pose it detached from the whole of things. Indeed,
we are so far from being able to judge of this, that
we are not judges what may be the necessary means
of raising and conducting one person to the highest

erfection and happiness of his nature. Nay, even
in the little affairs of the present life, we find men of
different educations and ranks are not competent
judges of the conduct of each other. Cur whole
nature leads us to ascribe all moral perfection to God.
and to deny all imperfection of him. And this will
for ever be a practical proof of his moral character,
to such as will consider what a practical proof is, be-
cause it is the voice of God speaking in us. And
from hence we conclude, that virtue must be the

 

 
180

happiness, and vice the misery, of every creature ; and
that regularity, and order, and right, cannot but pre-
vail finally, in a universe under his government.
But we are in no sort judges what are the necessary
means of accomplishing this end.

Let us, then, instead of that idle and not very
innocent employment of forming imaginary models
of a world, and schemes of governing it, turn our
thoughts to what we experience to be the conduct
of Nature with respect to intelligent creatures; which
may be resolved into general laws or rules of ad-
ministration, in the same way as many of ‘the laws of
Nature respecting inanimate matter, may be collected
from experiments. And let us compare the known
constitution and course of things, with what is said
to be the moral system of nature, the acknowledged
dispensations of Providence, or that government
which we find ourselves under, with what religion
teaches us to believe and expect, and see whether
they are not analogous, and of a piece. And upon
such a comparison it will, I think, be found, that
they are very much so; that both may be traced up
to the same general laws, and resolved into the same
principles of Divine conduct.

The analogy here proposed to be considered, is of
pretty large extent, and consists of several parts; in
some more, in others less exact. In some few in-
stances, perhaps, it may amount to a real practical
proof, in others not so: yet in these it is a confirma-
tion of what is proved otherwise. It will undeniably
show, what too many want to have shown them, that
the system of religion, both natural and revealed,
considered only as a system, and prior to the proof

 

181

of it, is not a subject of ridicule, unless that of Na-
ture be so too. And it will afford an answer to al-
most all objections against the system both of natu-
ral and of revealed religion, though not perhaps an
answer in so great a degree, yet in a very consider-
able degree an answer, to the objections against the
evidence of it; for, objections against a proof, and
objections against what is said to be proved, the
reader will observe, are different things.

Now, the Divine government of the world, im-
plied in the notion of religion in general, and of
Christianity, contains in it,—That mankind is ap-
pointed to live in a future state ;* that there every
one shall be rewarded or punished;t rewarded or
punished respectively for all that behaviour here,
which we comprehend under the words, virtuous or
vicious, morally good or evil; that our present life
is a probation, a state of trial, § and of discipline ||
for that future one, notwithstanding the objections
which men may fancy they have, from notions of
necessity, against there being any such moral plan
as this at all ;9 and whatever objections may appear
to lie against the wisdom and goodness of it, as it
stands so imperfectly made known to us at present: **
that this world being in a state of apostacy and wick-
edness, and consequently of ruin, and the sense both
of their condition and duty being greatly corrupted
amongst men, this gave occasion for an additional
dispensation of Providence, of the utmost impor-
tance, 4 proved by miracles, 1 but containing in it
many things appearing to us strange, and not to

 

* Ch. i. + Ch. ii. 1 Ch. iii.
§ Ch. iv. {| Ch. v. q Ch. vi.
** Ch. vii. +4 Part II. Ch. i. 31 Ch. ii

 

 
182

have been expected ;* a dispensation of Providence,
which is a scheme or system of things, carried on
by the mediation of a divine person, the Messiah, in
order to the recovery of the world; yet not re-
vealed to all men, nor proved with the strongest pos
sible evidence to all those to whom it is revealed;
but only to such a part of mankind, and with such
particular evidence, as the wisdom of God thought
fit.§ The design, then, of the following Treatise
will be to show, that the several parts principally
objected against in this moral and Christian dispen-
sation, including its scheme, its publication, and the
proof which God has afforded us of its truth; that
the particular parts principally objected against in
this whole dispensation, are analogous to what is ex-
perienced in the constitution and course of Nature,
or Providence; that the chief objections themselves,
which are alleged against the former, are no other
than what may be alleged with like justness against
the latter, where they are found in fact to be incon-
clusive; and that this argument, from analogy, is in
general unanswerable, and undoubtedly of weight
on the side of religion, || notwithstanding the objec-
tions which may seem to lie against it, and the real
ground which there may be for difference of opinion,
as to the particular degree of weight which is to be
laid upon it. This is a general account of what
may be looked for in the following Treatise. And

I shall begin it with that which is the foundation of

all our hopes and of all our fears—all our hopes
and fears which are of any consideration—I mean

a Future Life.

 

# Ch iii. +Chiv. 3$Ch v. §Ch. viyvii [Ch viii

 

 

PART IL.

OF NATURAL RELIGION.

 

 
 

 

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PART IL

OF NATURAL RELIGION.

CHAP. L
Of a Future Life.

SrraNGE difficulties have been raised by some
concerning personal identity, or the sameness of liv-
ing agents, implied in the notion of our existing
now and hereafter, or in any two successive mo-
ments; which whoever thinks it worth while, may
see considered in the first Dissertation at the end of
this Treatise. But, without regard to any of them
here, let us consider what the analogy of Nature,
and the several changes which we have undergone,
and those which we know we may undergo without
being destroyed, suggest, as to the effect which
death may, or may not, have upon us; and whether
it be not from thence probable, that we may survive
this change, and exist in a future state of life and
perception.

I. From our being born into the present world

 

 

 
186

in the helpless imperfect state of infancy, and hav-
ing arrived from thence to mature age, we find it to
be a general law of nature in our own species, that
the same creatures, the same individuals, should
exist in degrees of life and perception, with capacities
of action, of enjoyment and suffering, in one period
of their being greatly different from those appointed
them in another period of it. And in other crea-
tures the same law holds. For the difference of
their capacities and states of life at their birth (to go
no higher) and in maturity; the change of worms
into flies, and the vast enlargement of their locomo-
tive powers by such change; and birds and insects
bursting the shell, their habitation, and by this means
entering into a new world, furnished with new ac-
commodations for them, and finding a new sphere of
action assigned them—these are instances of this
general law of nature. Thus all the various and
wonderful transformations of animals are to be taken
into consideration here. But the states of life in
which we ourselves existed formerly in the womb
and in our infancy, are almost as different from our
present in mature age, as it is possible to conceive
any two states or degrees of life can be. There-
fore, that we are to exist hereafter in a state as dif-
ferent (suppose) from our present, as this is from
our former, is but according to the analogy of na-
ture; according to a natural order or appointment of
the very same kind with what we have already ex-
perienced.

II. We know that we are endued with capacities
of action, of happiness, and misery ; for we are con-
scious of acting, of enjoying pleasure, and suffering

 

187

ain. Now, that we have these powers and capaci-
ties before death, is a presumption that we shall re-
tain them through and after death; indeed a proba-
bility of it abundantly sufficient to act upon, unless
there be some positive reason to think that death is
the destruction of those living powers: because there
is in every case a probability that all things will con-
tinue as we experience they are, in all respects, ex-
cept those in which we have some reason to think
they will be altered. This is that kind* of presumpr
tion or probability from analogy, expressed in the
very word continuance, which seems our only natural
reason for believing the course of the world will con-
tinue to-morrow, as it has done so far as our expe-
rience or knowledge of history can carry us back.
Nay it seems our only reason for believing, that any
one substance, now existing, will continue to exist a
moment longer; the Self-existent Substance only
excepted. Thus if men were assured that the un-
known event, death, was not the destruction of our
faculties of perception and of action, there would be
no apprehension, that any other power or event un-
connected with this of death, would destroy these
faculties just at the instant of each creature’s death;
and therefore no doubt but that they would remain
after it: which shows the high probability that our
living powers will continue after death, unless there
be some ground to think that death will be their de-
struction. For if it would be in a manner certain

 

# | say kind of presumption or probability ; for Ido not mean
to affirm that there is the same degree of conviction, that _our
living powers will continue after death, as there is, that our subs
stances will. X :

t+ Destruction of living powers, 1s 3 manner of expression un-

 
188

that we should survive death, provided it were cer-
tain that death would not be our destruction, it must
be highly probable that we shall survive it, if there
be no ground to think death will be our destruction.

Now, though I think it must be acknowledged,
that prior to the natural and moral proofs of a future
life commonly insisted upon, there would arise a
general confused suspicion, that in the great shock
and alteration which we shall undergo by death, we,
that is, our living powers, might be wholly destroyed;
yet, even prior to those proofs, there is really no par-
ticular distinct ground or reason for this apprehen-
sion at all, so far as I can find. If there be, it must
arise cither from the reason of the thing, or from the
analogy of Nature.

But we cannot argue from the reason of the thing,
that death is the destruction of living agents, be-
cause we know not at all what death is in itself’; but
only some of its effects, such as the dissolution of
flesh, skin, and bones. And these effects do in no-
wise appear to imply the destruction of a living agent.
And besides, as we are greatly in the dark, upon
what the exercise of our living powers depends, so
we are wholly ignorant what the powers themselves

 

avoidably ambiguous ; and may signify either the destruction of a
living being, so as that the same living being shall be incapable of
ever perceiving or acting again al all ; or the destruction of those
means and instruments by which it is capable of its present life, of
its present state of perception and of action. It is here used in the
former sense. When it is used in the latter, the epithet present
is added. The loss of a man’s eye is a destruction of living
powers in the latter sense. But we have no reason to think the
destruction of living powers in the former sense to be possible.
we have no more reason to think a being endued with living
powers ever loses them during its whole existence, than to be-
lieve that a stone ever acquires them.

 

 

189

depend upon; the powers themselves, as distin-
guished not only from their actual exercise, but also
from the present capacity of exercising them; and
as opposed to their destruction: for sleep, or how-
ever, a swoon, shows us not only that these powers
exist when they are not exercised, as the passive
power of motion does in inanimate matter; but shows

also that they exist, when there is no present capa-

city of exercising them; or that the capacities of
exercising them for the present, as well as the actual
exercise of them may be suspended, and yet the
powers themselves remain undestroyed. ~~ Since then
we know not at all upon what the existence of our
living powers depends, this shows further, there can
no probability be collected from the reason of the
thing, that death will be their destruction: because
their existence may depend upon somewhat in no de-
gree affected by death; upon somewhat quite out of
the reach of this king of terrors. So that there is
nothing more certain than that the reason of the thing
shows us no connection between death and the de-
struction of living agents. Nor can we find any
thing throughout the whole analogy of Nature, to
afford us even the slightest presumption, that ani-
mals ever lose their living powers; much less, if it
were possible, that they lose them by death; for we
have no faculties wherewith to trace any beyond or
through it, so as to see what becomes of them. This
event removes them from our view. It destroys the
sensible proof, which we had before their death, of
their being possessed of living powers, but does not
appear to afford the least reason to believe that they
are then, or by that event, deprived of them.

 
190

And our knowing that they were possessed of
these powers, up to the very period to which we have
faculties capable of tracing them, is itself a probabil-
ity of their retaining them beyond it. And this is
confirmed, and a sensible credibility is given to it,
by observing the very great and astonishing changes
which we have experienced ; so great, that our exis-
tence in another state of life, of perception and of
action, will be but according to a method of provi-
dential conduct, the like to which has been already
exercised, even with regard to ourselves; according
to a course of nature, the like to which we have al-
ready gone through.

However, as one cannot but be greatly sensible,
how difficult it is to silence imagination enough to
make the voice of reason even distinctly heard in this
case; as we are accustomed, from our youth up, to
indulge that forward delusive faculty, ever obtruding
beyond its sphere ; of some assistance, indeed, to ap-
prehension, but the author of all error: aswe plainly
lose ourselves in gross and crude conceptions of
things, taking for granted that we are acquainted
with what indeed we are wholly ignorant of ; it may
be proper to consider the imaginary presumptions,
that death will be our destruction, arising from these
kinds of early and lasting prejudices; and to show
how little they can really amount to, even though we
cannot wholly divest ourselves of them. And,

I. All presumption of death being the destruc-
tion of living beings, must go upon supposition that
they are compounded, and so discerptible. But,
since consciousness is a single and indivisible power,
it should seem that the subject in which it resides

191

must be so too. For, were the motion of any par-
ticle of matter absolutely one and indivisible, so as
that it should imply a contradiction to suppose part
of this motion to exist, and part not to exist, that
is, part of this matter to move, and part to be at
rest; then its power of motion would be indivisible;
and so also would the subject in which the power in-
heres, namely, the particle of matter: for, if this
could he divided into two, one part might be moved
and the other at rest, which is contrary to the sup-
position. In like manner, it has been argued,* and
for any thing appearing to the contrary, justly, that
since the perception, or consciousness, which we have
of our own existence, is indivisible, so as that it is a
contradiction to suppose one part of it should be here,
and the other there; the perceptive power, or the
power of consciousness, is indivisible too; and, con-
sequently, the subject in which it resides, that is,
the conscious being. Now, upon supposition that
living agent each man calls himself, is thus a single
being, which there is at least no more difficulty in
conceiving than in conceiving it to be a compound,
and of which there is the proof now mentioned ; it
follows that our organized bodies are no more our-
selves, or part of ourselves, than any other matter
around us. And it is as easy to conceive how matter,
which is no part of ourselves, may be appropriated
to us in the manner which our present bodies are,
as how we can receive impression from, and have
power over any matter. It is as easy to conceive,

 

pe Dr. Clarke’s Letter to Mr. Dodwell, and the Defences

 

 
192

that we may exist out of bodies, as in them; that
we might have animated bodies of any other organs
and senses wholly different from these now given us,
and that we may hereafter animate these same or new
badies variously modified and organized, as to con-
ceive how we can animate such bodies as our present.
And, lastly, the dissolution of all these several or-
ganized bodies, supposing ourselves to have succes-
sively animated them, would have no more conceiv-
able tendency to destroy the living beings, ourselves,
or deprive us of living faculties, the faculties of per-
ception and of action, than the dissolution of any
foreign matter, which we are capable of receiving
impressions from, and making use of for the common
occasions of life.

II. The simplicity and absolute oneness of a liv-
oO
thing, be properly proved by experimental observa-
tions. But as these fall in with the supposition of
its unity, so they plainly lead us to conclude cer-
tainly, that our gross organized bodies, with which

ing agent cannot, indeed, from the nature of the

we perceive the objects of sense, and with which we
act, are no part of ourselves, and therefore show us,
that we have no reason to believe their destruction
to be ours; even without determining whether our
living substance be material or immaterial. For we
see by experience that men may lose their limbs,
their organs of sense, and even the greatest part of
these bodies, and yet remain the same living agents :
And persons can trace up the existence of themselves
to a time when the bulk of their bodies was extremely
small, in comparison of what it is in mature age: and
we cannot but think that they might then have lost

 

193

a considerable part of that small body, and yet have
remained the same living agents, as they may now
lose great part of their present body, and remain so.
And it is certain, that the bodies of all animals are in
a constant flux, from that never-ceasing attrition
which there is in every part of them. Now, things
of this kind unavoidably teach us to distinguish be-
tween these living agents, ourselves, and large quan-
tities of matter, in which we are very nearly inter-
ested; since these may be alienated, and actually are
in a daily course of succession, and changing their
owners; whilst we are assured that each living agent
remains one and the same permanent being.” And
this general observation leads us on to the following
ones.

1. That we have no way of determining by ex-
perience, what is the certain bulk of the living being
each man calls himself; and yet, till it be determined
that it is larger in bulk than the solid elementary
particles of matter, which there is no ground to
think any natural power can dissolve, there is no sort
of reason to think death to be the dissolution of it,
of the living being, even although it should not be
absolutely indiscerptible.

2. From our being so nearly related to, and in-
terested in certain systems of matter, suppose our
flesh and bones, and afterwards ceasing to be at all

related to them, the living agents, ourselves, remain-
ing all this while undestroyed, notwithstanding such
alienation; and consequently these systems of mat-
ter not being ourselves; it follows, further, that we

 

# See Dissertation I.

I 17

 

 
194

have no ground to conclude any other, suppose m-
ternal systems of matter, to be the living agents our-
selves: because we can have no ground to conclude
this, but from our relation to, and interest in, such
other systems of matter; and therefore we can have
no reason to conclude, what befalls those systems of
matter at death, to be the destruction of the living
agents. We have already, several times over, lost
a great part, or perhaps the whole of our body, ac-
cording to certain common established laws of nature;
yet we remain the same living agents: when we shall
lose as great a part, or the whole, by another com-
mon, established law of nature, death, why may we
not also remain the same? That the alienation has
been gradual in one case, and in the other will be
more at once, does not prove any thing to the con-
trary. We have passed undestroyed through those
many and great revolutions of matter, so peculiarly
appropriated to us ourselves; why should we imagine
death will be so fatal tous? Nor can it be objected,
that what is thus alienated, or lost, is no part of our ori-
ginal solid body, but only adventitious matter; because
we may lose entire limbs, which must have contained
many solid parts and vessels of the original body: or
if this be not admitted, we have no proof that any of
these solid parts are dissolved or alienated by death;
though, by the way, we are very nearly related to
that extraneous or adventitious matter, whilst it
continues united to and distending the several parts
of our solid body. But, after all, the relation a per-
son bears to those parts of his body to which he is
the most nearly related, what does it appear to amount
to but this, that the living agent and those parts of

195

the body mutually affect each other? And the same
thing, the same thing in kind, though not in degree,
may be said of all foreign matter, which gives us
ideas, and which we have any power over. Irom
these observations the whole ground of the imagina-
tion is removed, that the dissolution of any om is
the destruction of a living agent, from the interest he
once had in such matter.

3. If we consider our body somewhat more dis-
tinctly, as made up of organs and instruments of per-
ception and of motion, it will bring us to the same

a : r]
conclusion. Thus, the common optical experiments

show, and even the observation how sight is assisted
by glasses shows, that we see with our eyes in the
same sense as we see with glasses. Nor is there any
reason to believe, that we see with them in any other
sense; any other, I mean, which would lead us to
think the eye itself a percipient. The like is to be
said of hearing: and our feeling distant solid matter
by means of somewhat in our hand, seems an instance
of the like kind, as to the subject we are considering.
All these are instances of foreign matter, or such as
is no part of our body, being instrumental in pre-
paring objects for, and conveying them to the per-
ceiving power, in a manner similar, or like to the
manner in which our organs of sense prepare and
convey them. Both are, in a like way, instruments
of our receiving such ideas from external objects, as
the Author of nature appointed those external ob-
jects to be the occasions of exciting in us. However,
glasses are evidently instances of this; namely, of
matter, which is no part of our body, preparing ob-
jects for, and conveying them towards the perceiving
12

 

 
power, in like manner as our bodily organs do. And
if we see with our eyes only, in the same manner as
we do with glasses, the like may justly be concluded,
from analogy, of all our other senses. It is not In-
tended, by any thing here said, to affirm, that the
whole apparatus of vision, or of perception by any
other of our senses, can be traced, through all its
steps, quite up to the living power of seeing, or per-
ceiving ; but that, so far as it can be traced by expe-
rimental observations, so far it appears, that our or-
gans of sense prepare and convey on objects, in order
to their being perceived, in like manner as foreign
matter does, without affording any shadow of appear-
ance, that they themselves perceive. And that we
have no reason to think our organs of sense perci-
pients, is confirmed by instances of persons losing
some of them, the living beings themselves, their
former occupiers, remaining unimpaired. It is con-
firmed also by the experience of dreams; by which
we find we are at present possessed of a latent, and
what would otherwise be an unimagined unknown
power of perceiving sensible objects, in as strong and
lively a manner without our external organs of sense,
as with them. :

So also with regard to our power of moving, or
directing motion by will and choice: upon the de-
struction of a limb, this active power remains, as it
evidently seems, unlessened ; so as that the living
being, who has suffered this loss, would be capable
of moving as before, if it had another limb to move
with. It can walk by the help of an artificial leg,
just as it can make use of a pole or a lever, to reach
towards itself, and to move things beyond the length

 

197

and the power of its natural arm: and this last it
does in the same manner as it reaches and moves,
* with its natural arm, things nearer and of less weight.
Nor is there so much as any appearance of our limbs
being endged with a power of moving or directing
themselves; though they are adapted, like the several
parts of a machine, to be the instruments of motion
to each other; and some parts of the same limb, to
be instruments of motion to other parts of it.
Thus, a man determines, that he will look at such
an object through a microscope; or, being lame,
suppose that he will walk to such a place with a
staff, a week hence. His eyes and his feet no
more determine in these cases, than the microscope
and the staff. Nor is there any ground to think
they any more put the determination in prac-
tice, or that his eyes are the seers or his feet the
movers, in any other sense than as the microscope
and the staff are. Upon the whole, then, our or-
gans of sense and our limbs are certainly instruments,
which the living persons, ourselves, make use of to
perceive and move with: there is not any probability,
that they are any more, nor, consequently, that we
have any other kind of relation to them, than what
we may have to any other foreign matter formed into
instruments of perception and motion, suppose into a
microscope or a staff (I say, any other kind of rela-
tion, for I am not speaking of the degree of it;) nor,
consequently, is there any probability, that the alien-
ation or dissolution of these instruments is the de-
struction of the perceiving and moving agent.
And thus, our finding, that the dissolution of
matter in which living beings were most nearly in-

 

 
198

terested, is not their dissolution ; and that the de-
struction of several of the organs and instruments of
perception, and of motion belonging to them, is not
their destruction; shows, demonstratively, that there
is no ground to think, that the dissolution of any
other matter, or destruction of any other organs and
instruments, will be the dissolution or destruction of
living agents, from the like kind of relation. And
we have no reason to think we stand in any other
kind of relation to any thing which we find dissolved
by death.

But it is said, these observations are equally ap-
plicable to brutes; and it is thought an insuperable
difficulty, that they should be immortal, and by con-
sequence, capable of everlasting happiness. Now,
this manner of expression 1s both invidious and weak ;
but the thing intended by it, is really no difficulty at
all, either in the way of natural or moral considera-
tion. For, 1st, Suppose the invidious thing, de-
signed in such a manner of expression, were really
implied, as it is not in the least, in the natural im-
mortality of brutes; namely, that they must arrive at
great attainments, and become rational and moral
agents; even this would be no difficulty, since we
know not what latent powers and capacities they may
be endued with. There was once, prior to experi-
ence, as great presumption against human creatures,
as there is against the brute creatures, arriving at
that degree of understanding which we have in ma-
ture age; for we can trace up our own existence to
the same original with theirs. And we find it to be
a general law of nature, that creatures endued with
capacities of virtue and religion, should be placed in

 

199

a condition of being, in which they are altogether
without the use of them for a considerable length of
their duration, as in infancy and childhood. And
great part of the human species go out of the present
world, before they come to the exercise of these ca-
pacities in any degree at all. But then, 2dly, The
natural immortality of brutes does not in the least
imply, that they are endued with any latent capacities
of a rational or moral nature. And the economy of
the universe might require, that there should be liv-
ing creatures without any capacities of this kind.
And all difficulties, as to the manner how they are to
be disposed of, are so apparently and wholly founded
on our ignorance, that it is wonderful they should
be insisted upon by any, but such as are weak enough
to think they are acquainted with the whole system
of things. There is then, absolutely, nothing at all
in this objection, which is so -rhetorically urged
against the greatest part of the natural proof or pre-
sumptions of the immortality of human minds: I say,
the greatest part; for it is less applicable to the fol-
lowing observation, which is more peculiar to man-
kind :— :

II That as it is evident our present powers and
capacities of reason, memory, and affection, do not
depend upon our gross body, in the manner in which
perception by our organs of sense does; so they do
not appear to depend upon it at all in any such manner,
as to give ground to think, that the dissolution of
this body will be the destruction of these our pre-
sent powers of reflection, as it will of our powers of
sensation ; or to give ground to conclude, even that
it will be so much as a suspension of the former.

 

 
Human creatures exist at present in two states of
life and perception, greatly different from each other;
each of which has its own peculiar laws, and its own
peculiar enjoyments and sufferings. When any of
our senses are affected, or appetites gratified with
the objects of them, we may be said to exist, or live,
in a state of sensation. When none of our senses
are affected, or appetites gratified, and yet we per-
ceive, and reason, and act, we may be said to exist,
or live, in a state of reflection. Now, it is by no
means certain, that any thing which is dissolved by
death is any way necessary to the living being, in
this its state of reflection, after ideas are gained.
For though, from our present constitution and con-
dition of being, our external organs of sense are ne-
cessary for conveying in ideas to our reflecting pow-
ers, as carriages, and levers, and scaffolds are in ar-
chitecture; yet, when these ideas are brought in, we
are capable of reflecting in the most intense degree,
and of enjoying the greatest pleasure, and feeling the
greatest pain, by means of that reflection, without
any assistance from our senses; and without any at
all, which we know of, from that body, which will be
dissolved by death.

It does not appear, then, that the relation of this
gross body to the reflecting being is, in any degree,
necessary to thinking; to our intellectual enjoyments
or sufferings: nor, consequently, that the dissolution,
or alienation, of the former by death, will be the de-
struction of those present powers, which render us
capable of this state of reflection. Further, there
are instances of mortal diseases, which do not at all
affect our present intellectual powers, and this af-

 

 

201

fords a presumption, that those diseases will not de-
stroy these present powers. Indeed, from the ob-
servations made above,* it appears, that there is no
presumption, from their mutually affecting each other,
that the dissolution of the body is the destruction of
the living agent. And by the same reasoning it
must appear, too, that there is no presumption, from
their mutually affecting each other, that the dissolu-
tion of the body is the destruction of our present re-
flecting powers; but instances of their not affecting
each other, afford a presumption to the contrary.
Instances of mortal diseases not impairing our pre-
sent reflecting powers, evidently turn our thoughts
even from imagining such diseases to be the destiue:
tion of them. Several things, indeed, greatly affect
all our living powers, and at length suspend the ex-
ercise of them ; as, for instance, drowsiness, increas-
ing till it end in sound sleep: and from hence we
might have imagined it would destroy them, till we
found, by experience, the weakness of this way of
judging. But, in the diseases now mentioned, there
is not so much as this shadow of probability, to lead
us to any such conclusion, as to the reflecting powers

which we have at present; for, in those diseases, per-

sons, the moment before death, appear to be in the

highest vigour of life. They discover apprehension,

memory, reason, all entire; with the utmost force of
affection; sense of a character, of shame and honour;

and the highest mental enjoyments and sufferings,

even to the last gasp; and these surely prove even

greater vigour of life than bodily strength does.

 

* Pages 193, 194, 195, 196.
18

 
Te AR AIH A RH Ts
ETAT

202

Now, what pretence is there for thinking, that a pro-
gressive disease, when arrived to such a degree, I
mean that degree which is mortal, will destroy those
powers, which were not impaired, which were not af-
fected by it, during its whole progress, quite up to
that degree? And if death, by diseases of this
kind, is not the destruction of our present reflecting
powers, it will scarce be thought that death by any
other means is.

It is obvious, that this general observation may
be carried on further: And there appears so little
connection between our bodily powers of sensation,
and our present powers of reflection, that there is no
reason to conclude that death, which destroys the
former, does so much as suspend the exercise of the
latter, or interrupt our continuing to exist in the
like state of reflection which we do now. For, sus-
pension of reason, memory, and the affections which
they excite, is no part of the idea of death, nor is
implied in our notion of it. And our daily experi-
encing these powers to be exercised, without any as-
sistance, that we know of, from those bodies which
will be dissolved by death ; and our finding often,
that the exercise of them is so lively to the last ;—
these things afford a sensible apprehension, that
death may not perhaps be so much as a discontinu-
ance of the exercise of these powers, nor of the en-
joyments and sufferings which it implies ;* so that

 

# There are three distinct questions, relating to a future life
here considered : Whether death be the destruction of living
agents. If not, whether it be the destruction of their present
powers of reflection, as it certainly is the destruction of their pre-
sent powers of sensation ? and, if not, Whether it be the suspen-

203

our posthumous life, whatever there may be in it ad-
ditional to our present, yet may not be entirely be-
ginning anew, but going on. Death may, in some
sort, and in some respects, answer to our birth, which
is not a suspension of the faculties which we had be-
fore it, or a total change of the state of life in which
we existed when in the womb, but a continuation of
both, with such and such great alterations.

Nay, for aught we know of ourselves, of our pre-
sent life, and of death, death may immediately, in the
natural course of things, put us into a higher and
more enlarged state of life, as our birth does;* a
state in which our capacities and sphere of percep-
tion, and of action, may be much greater than at
present. For, as our relation to our external organs
of sense renders us capable of existing in our pre-
sent state of sensation, so it may be the only natural
hinderance to our existing, immediately and of course,
in a higher state of reflection. The truth is, reason
does not at all show us in what state death naturally
leaves us. But were we sure that it would suspend
all our perceptive and active powers, yet the sus-
pension of a power, and the destruction of it, are ef-
fects so totally different in kind, as we experience

 

sion, or discontinuance of the exercise, of these present reflecting
powers ? Now, if there be no reason to believe the last, there
will be, if that were possible, less for the next, and less still for
the first. ?

y This, according to Strabo, was the opinion of the Brahmans :
vopuigesy pty yaa On Tay piv ivlide Biov, ds dv dxphy xvopivwy sivas
Toy % Sdvaroy yéveaiy eis Tov dyrws Piov, xai Toy edaipove Tois Qide-
copiicasi. Lib. XV. p. 1039. Ed. Amst. 1707. To which opinion,
perhaps, Antoninus may allude in these words, @s ov wsgipives,
wos {utguov ix Ts, yaoTeds Tis ywvaurss gov i5irln, oiTws ixdi-
iste Ji doa bv 5 70 uxdgior cov Tau iAUTEOY ToUTOU EXTEasiTaL

 
from sleep and a swoon, that we cannot in anywise
argue from one to the other; or conclude, even to the
lowest degree of probability, that the same kind of
force which is sufficient to suspend our faculties,
though it be increased ever so much, will be sufficient
to destroy them.

These observations together may be sufficient to
show, how little presumption there is that death is
the destruction of human creatures. However,
there is the shadow of an analogy, which may lead
us to imagine it is; the supposed likeness which is
observed between the decay. of vegetables and living
creatures. And this likeness is indeed sufficient to
afford the poets very apt allusions to the flowers of
the field, in their pictures of the frailty of our pre-
sent life. But, in reason, the analogy is so far
from holding, that there appears no ground even for
the comparison, as to the present question ; because
one of the two subjects compared is wholly void of
that, which is the principal and chief thing in the
other, the power of perception and of action; and
which is the only thing we are inquiring about the
continuance of. So that the destruction of a ve-
getable is an event not similar, or analogous, to the
destruction of a living agent.

But if, as was above intimated, leaving off the
delusive custom of substituting imagination in the
room of experience, we would confine ourselves to
what we do know and understand; if we would

argue only from that, and from that form our ex-
pectations, it would appear, at first sight, that as
no probability of living beings ever ceasing to be so,
can be concluded from the reason of the thing, so

205

none can be collected from the analogy of Nature;
because we cannot trace any living beings beyond
death. But as we are conscious that we are endued
with capacities of perception and of action, and are
living persons, what we are to go upon is, that we
shall continue so till we foresee some accident, or
event, which will endanger those capacities, or be
likely to destroy us; which death does in nowise
appear to be.

And thus, when we go out of this world, we may
pass into new scenes, and a new state of life and
action, just as naturally as we came into the present.
And this new state may naturally be a social one.
And the advantages of it, advantages of every kind,
may naturally be bestowed, according to some fixed
general laws of wisdom, upon every one in propor-
tion to the degrees of his virtue. And though the
advantages of that future natural state should not
be bestowed, as these of the present in some mea-
sure are, by the will of the society, but entirely by
his more immediate action, upon whom the whole
frame of nature depends, yet this distribution may
be just as natural, as their being distributed here
by the instrumentality of men. And, indeed,
though one were to allow any confused undeter-
mined sense, which people please to put upon the
word natural, it would be a shortness of thought
scarce credible to imagine, that no system or course
of things can be so, but only what we see at
present ;* especially whilst the probability of a fu-
ture life, or the natural immortality of the soul, is

 

® See Partii. ch. 2. and Partii. ch. 3.

 
edmitted upon the evidence of reason; because this
is really both admitting and denying at once, a state
of being different from the present to be natural.
But the only distinct meaning of that word is, stated,
Sized, or settled ; since what is natural as much re-
quires and presupposes an intelligent agent to ren-
der it so, that is, to effect it continually, or at stated
times, as what is supernatural or miraculous does
to effect it for once. And from hence it must fol-
low, that persons’ notions of what is natural will be
enlarged, in proportion to their greater knowledge
of the works of God, and the dispensations of his
Providence. Nor is there any absurdity in suppos-
ing, that there may be beings in the universe, whose
capacities, and knowledge, and views, may be so
extensive, as that the whole Christian dispensation
may to them appear natural ; that is, analagous or
conformable to God's dealings with other parts of
his creation; as natural as the visible known course
of things appears to us. For there seems scarce
any other possible sense to be put upon the word,
but that only in which it is here used: similar,
stated, or uniform.

This credibility of a future life, which has been
here insisted upon, how little soever it may satisfy
our curiosity, seems to answer all the purposes of
religion, in like manner as a demonstrative proof
would. Indeed, a proof, even a demonstrative one,
of a future life, would not be a proof of religion.
For, that we are to live hereafter, is just as recon-
cilable with the scheme of atheism, and as well to
be accounted for by it, as that we are now alive is;
and therefore nothing can be more absurd than to

207

argue from that scheme, that there can be no future
state. But as religion implies a future state, any
presumption against such a state is a presumption

against religion. And the foregoing observations

remove all presumptions of this sort, and prove, to
a very considerable degree of probability, one fun-
damental doctrine of religion; which, if believed
would greatly open and dispose the mind seriou
to attend to the general evidence of the whole. :

 
208

CHAP. IL

Of the Government of God by Rewards and Punish-
ments, and particularly of the latter.

TuAT which makes the question concerning a
future life to be of so great importance to us, is our
capacity of happiness and misery. And that which
makes the consideration of it to be of so great im-
portance to us, is the supposition of our happiness
and misery hereafter, depending upon our actions
here. Without this, indeed, curiosity could not
but sometimes bring a subject, in which we may be
so highly interested, to our thoughts; especially
upon the mortality of others, or the near prospect
of our own. Dut reasonable men would not take
any farther thought about hereafter, than what
should happen thus occasionally to rise in their minds,
if it were certain, that our future interest no way
depended upon our present behaviour: whereas,
on the contrary, if there be ground, either from
analogy or any thing else, to think it does: then
there is reason also for the most active thought and
solicitude, to secure that interest; to behave so as
that we may escape that misery, and obtain that
happiness in another life, which we not only suppose
ourselves capable of, but which we apprehend also
is put in our own power. And whether there be
ground for this last apprehension, certainly would
deserve to be most seriously considered, were there
no other proof of a future life and interest, than

grt omen

209

that presumptive one, which the foregoing observa-
tions amount to.

Now, in the present state, all which we enjoy,
and a great part of what we suffer, is put in our own
power. For pleasure and pain are the consequences
of our actions; and we are endued by the Author
of our nature with capacities of foreseeing these con-
sequences. We find by experience he does not so
much as preserve our lives, exclusively of our own
care and attention, to provide ourselves with, and
to make use of that sustenance, by which he has
appointed our lives shall be preserved; and without
which, he has appointed, they shall not be preserved
at all. And in general we foresee, that the exter-
nal things, which are the objects of our various pas-
sions, can neither be obtained nor enjoyed, without
exerting ourselves in such and such manners: but
by thus exerting ourselves, we obtain and enjoy
these objects, in which our natural good consists ;
or by this means God gives us the possession and
enjoyment of them. I know not that we have any
one kind or degree of enjoyment, but by the means
of our own actions. And by prudence and care,
we may, for the most part, pass our days in toler-
able ease and quiet: or, on the contrary, we may
by rashness, ungoverned passion, wilfulness, or even
by negligence, make ourselves as miserable as ever
we please. And many do please to make themselves
extremely miserable, that is, to do what they know
beforehand will render them so. They follow those
ways, the fruit of which they know, by instruction,
example, experience, will be disgrace, and poverty,
and sickness, and untimely death. This every one

 
210

observes to be the general course of things; though
it is to be allowed, we cannot find by experience, that
all our sufferings are owing to our own follies.
Why the Author of Nature does not give his
creatures promiscuously such and such perceptions,
without regard to their behaviour; why he does not
make them happy without the instrumentality of
their own actions, and prevent their bringing any
sufferings upon themselves, is another matter. Per-
haps there may be some impossibilities in the nature
of things which we are unacquainted with :* or less
happiness, it may be, would upon the whole be pro-
duced by such a method of conduct, than is by the
present : or, perhaps, Divine goodness, with which,
if I mistake not, we make very free in our specula-
tions, may not be a bare single disposition to produce
happiness; but a disposition to make the good, the
faithful, the honest man happy. Perhaps an infi-
nitely perfect Mind may be pleased, with seeing his
creatures behave suitably to the nature which he has
given them; to the relations which he has placed
them in to each other; and to that which they stand
in to himself: that relation to himself, which, dur-
ing their existence, is even necessary, and which is
the most important one of all. Perhaps, I say, an in-
finitely perfect Mind may be pleased with this moral
piety of moral agents, in and for itself, as well as
upon account of its being essentially conducive to
the happiness of his creation. Or the whole end,
for which God made, and thus governs the world,
may be utterly beyond the reach of our faculties:

 

® Part i. chap. 7.

 

 

 

211

there may be somewhat in it as impossible for us to
have any conception of, as for a blind man to have a
conception of colours. But, however this be, it is
certain matter of universal experience, that the ge-
neral method of Divine administration, is, forewarn-
ing us, or giving us capacities to foresee, with more
or less clearness, that if we act so and so, we shall
have such enjoyments, if so and so, such sufferings;
and giving us those enjoyments, and making us feel
those sufferings, in consequence of our actions.

¢« But all this is to be ascribed to the general
course of nature.” True. This is the very thing
which I am observing. It is to be ascribed to the ge-
neral course of nature; that is, not surely to the words
or ideas, course of nature, but to him who appointed
it, and put things into it: or to a course of opera-
tion, from its uniformity or constancy, called natu-
ral, * and which necessarily implies an operating
agent. I'or when men find themselves necessitated
to confess an Author of nature, or that God is the
natural Governor of the world, they must not deny
this again, because his government is uniform; they
must not deny that he does all things at all, because
he does them constantly; because the effects of his
acting are permanent, whether his acting be so or
not; though there is no reason to think it is not. In
short, every man, in every thing he does, naturally
acts upon the forethought and apprehension of avoid-
ing evil, or obtaining good: and if the natural course
of things be the appointment of God, and our natu-
ral faculties of knowledge and experience are given

 

% Pages 204, 205

 
ger Aix Loi

212

us by him, then the good and bad consequences which
follow our actions are his appointment, and our fore-
sight of those consequences is a warning given us by
him, how we are to act.

«Is the pleasure, then, naturally accompanying
every particular gratification of passion, intended to
put us upon gratifying ourselves in every such par-
ticular instance, and as a reward to us for so doing?”
No, certainly. Nor is it to be said, that our eyes
were naturally intended to give us the sight of each
particular object to which they do or can extend ;
objects which are destructive of them, or which, for
any other reason, it may become us to turn our eyes
from. Yet there is no doubt, but that our eyes were
intended for us to see with. So neither is there any
doubt, but that the foreseen pleasures and pains,
belonging to the passions, were intended, in general,
to induce mankind to act in such and such manners.

Now, from this general observation, obvious to
every one, that God has given us to understand he
has appointed satisfaction and delight to be the con-
sequence of our acting in one manner, and pain and
uneasiness of our acting in another, and of our not
acting at all; and that we find the consequences,
which we were beforehand informed of, uniformly to
follow; we may learn, that we are at present actually
under his government, in the strictest and most pro-

er sense; in such a sense, as that he rewards and
punishes us for our actions. An Author of Nature
being supposed, it is not so much a deduction of
reason as a matter of experience, that we are thus
under his government ; under his government, in the
same sense as we are under the government of civil

 

i A

213

magistrates. Because the annexing pleasure to some
actions, and pain to others, in our power to do or
forbear, and giving notice of this appointment be-
forehand to those whom it concerns, is the proper
formal notion of government. Whether the plea-
sure or pain which thus follows upon our behaviour,
be owing to the Author of Nature acting upon us
every moment which we feel it, or to his having at
once contrived and executed his own part in the plan
of the world, makes no alteration as to the matter
before us. For, if civil magistrates could make the
sanctions of their laws take place, without interpos-
ing at all, after they had passed them; without a
trial, and the formalities of an execution: if they were
able to make their laws execute themselves, or every
offender to execute them upon himself, we should be
just in the same sense under their government then,
as we are now; but in a much higher degree, and
more perfect manner. Vain is the ridicule with which
one sees some persons will divert themselves, upon
finding lesser pains considered as instances of divine
punishment. There is no possibility of answering
or evading the general thing here intended, without
denying all final causes. For, final causes being ad-
mitted, the pleasures and pains now mentioned must
be admitted too, as instances of them. And if they
are; if God annexes delight to some actions and un-
easiness to others, with an apparent design to induce
us to act so and so, then he not only dispenses hap-
piness and misery, but also rewards and punishes ac-
tions. If, for example, the pain which we feel upon
doing what tends to the destruction of our bodies,
suppose upon too near approaches to fire, or upon

 
 

214

wounding ourselves, be appointed by the Ale of
Nature to prevent our doing what thus ten s to he
destruction; this is altogether as much an instance 0
his punishing our actions, and consequently of our
being under his government, as declaring, by Nae
from heaven, that if we acted so, he would in ict
such pain upon us, and inflicting it whether it be
greater or less. :

Thus we find, that the true notion or conception

of the Author of Nature, is that of a master or go-
vernor, prior to the consideration of his moral attri-
butes. The fact of our case, which we find by ex-
perience, is, that he actually exercises dominion or
government over us at present, by rewarding and pun-
ishing us for our actions, in as strict and proper a
sense of these words, and even in the same sense as
children, servants, subjects, are rewarded and pun-
ished, by those who govern them.

And thus the whole analogy of nature, the whole
present course of things, most fully shows, that there
is nothing incredible in the general doctrine of reli-
gion, that God will reward and punish men for their
actions hereafter; nothing incredible, I mean, arising
out of the notion of rewarding and punishing, for the
whole course of nature is a present instance of his ex-
ercising that government over us, which implies in it
rewarding and punishing.

PEPE PEPE ETSI

Bur, as divine punishment is what men chiefly
object against, and are most unwilling to allow, it
may be proper to mention some CE
the natural course of punishments at present, whic

BE ,,

Fin

 

215

are analogous to what religion teaches us concerning
a future state of punishment: indeed, so analogous,
that as they add a farther credibility to it, so they
cannot but raise a most serious apprehension of it in
those who will attend to them.
It has been now observed, that such and such
miseries naturally follow such and such actions of
imprudence and wilfulness, as well as actions more
commonly and more distinctly considered as vicious;
and that these consequences, when they may be
foreseen, are properly natural punishments annexed
to such actions. For the general thing here insisted
upon is, not that we see a great deal of misery in the
world, but a great deal which men bring upon them-
selves by their own behaviour, which they might
have foreseen and avoided. Now, the circumstances
of these natural punishments, particularly deserving
our attention, are such as these: That oftentimes
they follow, or are inflicted in consequence of actions
which procure many present advantages, and are ac-
companied with much present pleasure; for instance,
sickness and untimely death is the consequence of
intemperance, though accompanied with the highest
mirth and jollity: That these punishments are often
much greater than the advantages or pleasures ob-
tained by the actions, of which they are the punish-
ments or consequences: That though we may ima-
gine a constitution of nature, in which these natural
punishments, which are in fact to follow, would
tollow immediately upon such actions being done, or «
very soon after; we find, on the contrary, in our
world, that they are often delayed a great while,
sometimes even till long after the actions occasioning

 
 

 

216

them are forgot; so that the constitution of i
is such, that delay of punishment is no sort nor ke
gree of presumption of final impunity : That, a oo
such delay, these natural punishments or Me
often come, not by degrees, but suddenly, wit Ye
lence, and at once—however, the chief rey en
does: That as certainty of such distant misery follow-
ing such actions is never afforded persons, pene
haps, during the actions, they bye seldom a i
full expectation of its following: and many 3
the case is only thus, that they see in general, or
may see, the credibility, that IofepeSuepsI
will bring after it diseases; civil crimes, civ pa
ments; when yet the real probability often is, 2
they shall escape: but things pnesaing i 2
their destined course, and the misery inevitably fol-

Jows at its appointed time, in very many of Pos
cases. Thus, also, though youth may be allege

as an excuse for rashness and folly, as being Sa
rally thoughtless, and not clearly foreseeing a
consequences of being untractable and pro gat 3
this does not hinder but that these consequences fol-

low, and are grievously felt, throughout the whole
course of mature life. Habits contracted, even in
that age, are often utter ruin: and men’s Sh i
the world, not only in the common sense of wor oy
success, but their real happiness and misery, Se S
in a great degree, and in various ways, a 1e
manner in which they pass their youth; which con-
Sequences they, for the most part, Hohe 90s
sider, and perhaps seldom can properly be saic

* See Part ii. chap. 6.

 

 

217

believe beforehand. It requires also to be mentioned,
that, in numberless cases, the natural course of things
affords us opportunities for procuring advantages to
ourselves at certain times, which we cannot procure
when we will ; nor ever recal the opportunities, if we
have neglected them. Indeed, the general course
of nature is an example of this. If, during the op-
portunity of youth, persons are indocile and self-
willed, they inevitably suffer in their future life, for
want of those acquirements which they neglected the
natural season of attaining. If the hushandman lets
his seed-time pass without sowing, the whole year is
lost to him beyond recovery. In like manner,
though after men have been guilty of folly and ex-
travagance, up to a certain degree, it is often in
their power, for instance, to retrieve their affairs, to
recover their health and character, at least in good
measure ; yet real reformation is, in many cases, of
no avail at all towards preventing the miseries, po-
verty, sickness, infamy, naturally annexed to folly
and extravagance, exceeding that degree. There is
a certain bound to imprudence and misbehaviour,
which being transgressed, there remains no place for
repentance in the natural course of things. It is,
further, very much to be remarked, that neglects
from inconsiderateness, want of attention,* not look-
ing about us to see what we have to do, are often
attended with consequences altogether as dreadful as
any active misbehaviour, from the most extravagant
passion. And, lastly, civil government being natu-
ral, the punishments of it are so too; and some of

 

* Partii. chap. 6.

k 17

 
218

these punishments are capital, as the effects of a dis-
solute course of pleasure are often mortal. So that
many natural punishments are final* to him who in-
curs them, if considered only in his temporal capa-
city; and seem inflicted by natural appointment,
either to remove the offender out of the way of being
further mischievous, or as an example, though fre-
quently a disregarded one, to those who are left be-
hind.

These things are not what we call accidental, or
to be met with only now and then; but they are
things of every day’s experience ; they proceed from
general laws, very general ones, by which God go-
verns the world, in the natural course of his provi-
dence. And they are so analogous to what religion
teaches us concerning the future punishment of the

 

* The general consideration of a future state of punishment
most evidently belongs to the subject of natural religion. But if
any of these reflections should be thought to relate more pecu-
liarly to this doctrine as taught in Scripture; the reader is de-
sired to observe, that Gentile writers, both moralists and poets,
speak of the future punishment of the wicked, both as to the
duration and degree of it, in a like manner of expression and of
description, as the Scripture does. So that all which can posi-
tively be asserted to be matter of mere revelation, with regard to
this doctrine, seems to be, that the great distinction between the
righteous and the wicked, shall be made at the end of this world ;
that each shall then receive according to his deserts. Reason did,
as it well might, conclude that it should, finally and upon the
whole, be well with the righteous, and ill with the wicked : but
it could not be determined, upon any principles of reason,
whether human creatures might not have been appointed to pass
through other states of life and being, before that distributive
justice should, finally and effectually, take place. Revelation
teaches us, that the next state of things after the present, is ap-
pointed for the execution of this justice; that it shall be no longer
delayed : but the mystery of God, the great mystery of his suffer-
ing vice and confusion to prevail, shall then be finished ; and he
will take to him his great power and will reign, by rendering to
every one according to his works.

 

 

219

wicked, so much of a piece with it, that both would
naturally be expressed in the very same words and
manner of description. In the book of Proverbs
for instance, Wisdom is introduced as frequentin :
the most public places of resort, and as rejected i
she offers herself as the natural appointed guide of
human life. « How long,” speaking to those who
are passing through it, ¢ how long, ye simple ones
will ye love folly, and the scorners delight in their
scorning, and fools hate knowledge 2 Turn ve
at my reproof. Behold I will pour out my Spirit
upon you, I will make known my words unto you.”
But upon being neglected, « Because I have called
and ye refused, I have stretched out my hand, ad
no man regarded ; but ye have set at nought all m
counsel, and would none of my reproof: I also will
laugh at your calamity, I will mock when your fear
cometh ; when your fear cometh as a desolation, and
your destruction cometh as a whirlwind ; er dis-
tress and anguish cometh upon you. Then shall
they call upon me, but I will not answer; they shall
seek me early, but they shall not find me.” This
passage, every one sees, is poetical, and some parts
of it are highly figurative; but their meaning is ob-
vious. And the thing intended is axpreveed more
literally in the following words: ¢ For that they
hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the
Lord; therefore shall they eat of the fruit of their
own way, and be filled with their own devices. For
the security of the simple shall slay them, and the
prosperity of fools shall destroy them.” And the
whole passage is so equally applicable to what we ex-
perience in the present world, concerning the conse-
K 2

 
220

quences of men’s actions, and to what religion teaches
us is to be expected in another, that it may be ques-
tioned which of the two was principally intended.

Indeed, when one has been recollecting the proper
proofs of a future state of rewards and punishments,
nothing, methinks, can give one so sensible an ap-
prehension of the latter, or representation of it to
the mind, as observing, that after the many disre-
garded checks, admonitions, and warnings, which
people meet with in the ways of vice, and folly, and
extravagance ; warnings from their very nature ; from
the examples of others; from the lesser inconve-
niences which they bring upon themselves; from the
instructions of wise and virtuous men: after these
have been long despised, scorned, ridiculed ; after the
chief bad consequences, temporal consequences, of
their follies, have been delayed for a great while; at
length they break in irresistibly, like an armed force;
repentance is too late to relieve, and can serve only
to aggravate their distress: the case is become des-
perate; and poverty and sickness, remorse and an-
guish, infamy and death, the effects of their own
doings, overwhelm them, beyond possibility of re-
medy or escape. This is an account of what is in
fact the general constitution of nature.

It is not in any sort meant, that according to what
appears at present of the natural course of things,
men are always uniformly punished in proportion to
their misbehaviour; but that there are very many
instances of misbehaviour punished in the several
ways now mentioned, and very dreadful instances too,
sufficient to show what the laws of the universe may
admit; and if thoroughly considered, sufficient fully

 

 

221

to answer all objections against the credibility of a
future state of punishments, from any imaginations
that the frailty of our nature and external temptations
almost annihilate the guilt of human vices: as well as
objections of another sort; from necessity; from sup-
positions that the will of an infinite Being cannot >
contradicted; or that he must be inca able of offenc
and provocation. * ’ he
Reflections of this kind are not without their ter-
rors to serious persons, the most free from enthusiasm
and of the greatest strength of mind; but it is fie
things be stated and considered as they really He
And there 1s, in the present age, a certain fearless-
ness with regard fo what may be hereafter under the
government of God, which nothing but an univer
sally acknowledged desonstiration. on the side of

Magn can justify, and which makes it quite neces-
sa c . Ld Led *
ry that man be reminded, and, if possible, made to

feel, tl i
, that there is no sort of ground for being thus
presumptuous,

ples.

even upon the most sceptical princi-
les. For, may it not be said of any person, upon
his being born into the world, he may behave SO as
to be of no service to it, but by being made an ex-
ample of the woeful effects of vice and folly: hat he
may, as any one may, if he will, incur an infamous
“Seon from the hands of civil justice; or in some
oe Soe of bovis in shorten his days; or
g up infamy and diseases worse than
death? So that it had been better for him eve
with regard to the present world, that he Medios
been born. And is there any pretence of reason for

* See Chap. iv and vi.

 
222

to think themselves secure, and talk as if they
f, that let them act as licentiously as
¢ nothing analogous to this,

people
had certain proo
they will, there can b

with regard to a future and more general Heres
under the providence and government of the same

God?

 

223

CHAP. IIL
Of the Moral Government of God,

As the manifold appearances of design, and of
final causes, in the constitution of the world, prove
it to be the work of an intelligent Mind, so the
particular final causes of pleasure and pain, distri-
buted amongst his creatures, prove that they are
under his government—what may be called, his na-
tural government of creatures endued with sense
and reason. This, however, implies somewhat more
than seems usually attended to, when we speak of
God’s natural government of the world. It implies
government of the very same kind with that which
a master exercises over his servants, or a civil ma-
gistrate over his subjects. These latter instances
of final causes as really prove an intelligent Go-
vernor of the world, in the sense now mentioned,
and before* distinctly treated of, as any other in-
stances of final causes prove an intelligent Maker
of it.

But this alone does not appear, at first sight, to
determine any thing certainly, concerning the moral
character of the Author of Nature, considered in
this relation of governor; does not ascertain his go-
vernment to de moral, or prove that he is the right-
eous Judge of the world. Moral government con-
sists, not barely in rewarding and punishing men

 

¢ Chap. 2.

 
224

for their actions, which the most tyrannical person
may do; but in rewarding the righteous, and -
ishing the wicked; in rendering to men accor ng
to their actions, considered as good or evil. : An
the perfection of moral government consists in do-
ing this, with regard to all intelligent creatures, a
an exact proportion to their personal merits or de-
BD men seem to think the only character of
the Author of Nature to be that of simple absolute
benevolence. This, considered as a principle of
action, and infinite in degree, is a disposition to
produce the greatest possible happiness, without
gard to persons’ behaviour, otherwise than as a
regard would produce higher degrees ay : ” 3
supposing this to be the only character 0 To : yes
racity and justice in him would be nothing u »
nevolence conducted by wisdom. Now, surely t is
ought not to be asserted, unless it can be proved;
for we should speak with cautious reverence upon
such a subject. And whether it can be loves
not, is not the thing here to be inquired into 5 "
whether, in the constitution and conduct of t bo
worid, a righteous government be not Giseorsibly
planned out; which necessarily implies a righteous
governor. There may possibly be in the creation,
A to whom the Author of Nature manifests
himself under this most amiable of all characters,
this of infinite absolute benevolence ; dor it is the
most amiable, supposing it not, as perhaps it is i
incompatible with justice: but he manifests himse
to us under the character of a righteous gover
He may, consistently with this, be simply and ab-

 

 

225

solutely benevolent, in the sense now explained ;
but he is, for he has given us a proof in the consti
tution and conduct of the world, that he is a gover-
nor over servants, as he rewards and punishes us
for our actions. And in the constitution and con-
duct of it, he may also have given, besides the rea-
son of the thing, and the natural presages of con-
science, clear and distinct intimations that his go-
vernment is righteous or moral—clear to such
think the nature of it deserving their attention; and
yet not to every careless person who casts a transient
reflection upon the subject. *

But it is particularly to be observed, that the
divine government, which we experience ourselves
under in the present state, taken alone, is allowed
not to be the perfection of moral government. And
yet this by no means hinders, but that there may
be somewhat, be it more or less, truly moral in it.
A righteous government may plainly appear to be
carried on to some degree ; enough to give us the
apprehension that it shall be completed, or carried
on to that degree of perfection which religion teaches
us it shall; but which cannot appear, till much more
of the divine administration be seen,

as

than can in the

 

* The objections against religion, from the evidence of it not
being universal, nor so strong as might possibly have been,
may be urged against natural religion, as well as against reveal-
ed. And therefore the consideration of them belongs to the
first part of this Treatise, as well as the second. But as these
objections are chiefly urged against revealed religion, I chose to
consider them in the second Part. And the answer to them
there, chap. vi. as urged against Christianity, being almost
equally applicable to them as urged against the Religion of
Nature, to avoid repetition, the reader is referred to that
chapter.

K 3

 
CL ——————————

4
4
8
:

226

present life. And the design of this chapter is t
inquire, how far this is the case; how far, over an
above the moral nature* which God has given us,
and our natural notion of him, as righteous gover-
nor of those his creatures to whom he has Zhven gs
nature ;+ I say how far, besides this, the prissh
and beginnings of a moral government over t wont
may be discerned, notwithstanding and amidst
the confusion and disorder of it.
Now, one might mention here, what has her
often urged with great force, that, in general, i
uneasiness, and more satisfaction, are. the HAE
consequences] of a virtuous than of a vicious Sores
of life, in the present state, as an nga. 0 a
moral government established in nature; an instance
of it, collected from experience proton ute
of fact. But it must be owned a thing of difficu y
to weigh and balance pleasures and Spe each
amongst themselves, and also against each other,
as to make an estimate with any exactness, of t :
overplus of happiness on the side of virtue. So
it is not impossible, that, amidst the infinite fre
ders of the world, there may be exceptions to the
happiness of virtue, even with regard to Hse per
sons, whose course of life, from their youth up, ps
been blameless; and more with regard to those Ww 3
have gone on for some time in the ways of vice, an
have afterwards reformed. Tor suppose an instance
of the latter case; a person with his passions in-
flamed, his natural faculty of self-government im-

 

* Dissertation 2. + Chap. 6.
3 ia Inquiry concerning Virtue, Part 2.

 

227

paired by habits of indulgence, and with all his
vices about him, like so many harpies,

craving for
their accustomed gratification,

—who can say, how
long it might be before such a person would find
more satisfaction in the reasonableness and present
good consequences of virtue, than difficulties and
self-denial in the restraints of it ?

Experience also
shows, that men can, to

a great degree, get over
their sense of shame, so as that, by professing themn-
selves to be without principle, and avowing even
direct villainy, they can support themselves against
the infamy of it. But as the ill actions of any one
will probably be more talked of, and oftener thrown
in his way, upon his reformation; so the infamy of
them will be much more felt, after the natural sense
of virtue and of honour is recovered.  Uneasiness
of this kind ought indeed to be put to the account
of former vices ; yet it will be said, they are in part
the consequences of reformation. Still I am far
from allowing it doubtful, whether virtue, upon the
whole, be happier than vice in the present world :
but if it were, yet the beginnings of a righteous
administration may, beyond all question, be found
in nature, if we will attentively inquire after them.
And,

I. In whatever manner the notion of God’s mo-
ral government over the world might be treated, if
it did not appear whether he were, in a proper sense,
our governor at all; yet when it is certain matter of
experience, that he does manifest himself to us un-
der the character of a governor, in the sense ex-
plained, * it must deserve to be considered, whether

* Chap. 2.

 
228

there be not reason to apprehend, that he may be

a righteous or moral governor. Since it appears to

be fact, that God does govern mankind by the me-

thod of rewards and punishments, according to some

settled rules of distribution, it is surely a question

to be asked, What presumption is there against his

finally rewarding and punishing them according to
this particular rule, namely, as they act reasonably
or unreasonably, virtuously or viciously ? since ren-
dering man happy or miserable by this rule, certain-
ly falls in, much more falls in, with our natural ap-
prehensions and sense of things, than doing so by
any other rule whatever; since rewarding and pun-
ishing actions by any other rule would appear much
harder to be accounted for by minds formed as he
has formed ours. Be the evidence of religion, then,
more or less clear, the expectation which it raises
in us, that the righteous shall, upon the whole, be
happy, and the wicked miserable, cannot, however,
possibly be considered as absurd or chimerical ; be-
cause it is no more than an expectation, that a me-
thod of government, already begun, shall be car-
ried on, the method of rewarding and punishing ac-
tions; and shall be carried on by a particular rule,
which unavoidably appears to us, at first sight, more
natural than any other, the rule which we call dis-
tributive justice. Nor,

IT. Ought it to be entirely passed over, that tran-
quillity, satisfaction, and external advantages, being
the natural consequences of prudent management of
ourselves and our affairs; and rashness, profligate
negligence, and wilful folly, bringing after them many
inconveniences and sufferings; these afford instances

 

of a right constitution of nature: as the correction
of children, for their own sakes, and by way of
example, when they run into danger or hurt them-
selves, is a part of right education. And thus, that
God governs the world by general fixed laws ; that
he has endued us with capacities of reflecting upon
this constitution of things, and foreseeing the good
and bad consequences of our behaviour, plainly im-
plies some sort of moral government: since from
such a constitution of things, it cannot but follow,
that prudence and imprudence, which are of the na-
ture of virtue and vice,* must be, as they are, re-
spectively rewarded and punished.

III. From the natural course of things, vicious
actions are, to a great degree, actually punished as
mischievous to society ; and besides punishment
actually inflicted upon this account, there is also the
fear and apprehension of it in those persons whose
crimes have rendered them obnoxious to it, in case
of a discovery ; this state of fear being itself often a
very considerable punishment. The natural fear
and apprehension of it too, which restrains from such
crimes, is a declaration of nature against them. JI
is necessary to the very being of society, that vices
destructive of it should be punished as being so; the
vices of falsehood, injustice, cruelty: which punish-
ment, therefore, is as natural as society, and so is

. an instance of a kind of moral government, naturally

established, and actually taking place. And, since
the certain natural course of things is the conduct of
providence, or the government of God, though carried

 

®
* See Dissertation II.

 
ER RR

230

on by the instrumentality of men, the observation
here made amounts to this, that mankind find them-
selves placed by him in such circumstances, as that
they are unavoidably accountable for their behaviour,
and are often punished, and sometimes rewarded,
under his government, in the view of their being
mischievous or eminently beneficial to society.
If it be objected, that good actions, and such as
are beneficial to society, are often punished, as in
the case of persecution, and in other cases, and that
il and mischievous actions are often rewarded ; it
may be answered distinctly, first, that this is in no
sort necessary, and consequently not natural, in the
sense in which it is necessary, and therefore natural,
that ill or mischievous actions should be punished ;
and, in the next place, that good actions are never
punished, considered as beneficial to society, nor ill
actions rewarded, under the view of their being hurt-
ful to it. So that it stands good, without any thing
on the side of vice to be set over against it, that the
Author of Nature has as truly directed that vicious
actions, considered as mischievous to society, should
be punished, and put mankind under a necessity of
thus punishing them, as he has directed and neces-
sitated us to preserve our lives by food. :

IV. In the natural course of things, virtue, as
such, is actually rewarded, and vice, as such, punished;
which seems to afford an instance, or example, not
only of government, but of moral government begun
and established; moral in the strictest sense, though
not in that perfection of degree which religion teaches
us to expect. In order to see this more clearly, we
fhust distinguish between actions themselves, and

 

231

that quality ascribed to them, which we call virtuous
or vicious. The gratification itself of every natural
passion must be attended with delight; and acquisi-
tions of fortune, however made, are acquisitions of the
means or materials of enjoyment. An action, then,
by which any natural passion is gratified, or fortune
acquired, procures delight or advantage, abstracted
from all consideration of the morality of such action.
Consequently, the pleasure or advantage in this case,
is gained by the action itself, not by the morality,
the virtuousness or viciousness of it, though it be,
perhaps, virtuous or vicious. Thus, to say such an
action or course of behaviour, procured such pleasure
or advantage, or brought on such inconvenience and
pain, is quite a different thing from saying that such
good or bad effect was owing to the virtue or vice of
such action or behaviour. In one case, an action,
abstracted from all moral consideration, produced its
effect ; in the other case, for it will appear that there
are such cases, the morality of the action, the action
under a moral consideration, that is, the virtuousness
or viciousness of it, produced the effect. Now, I
say, virtue, as such, naturally procures considerable
advantages to the virtuous; and vice, as such, natu-
rally occasions great inconvenience, and even misery,
to the vicious, in very many instances. The imme-
diate effects of virtue and vice upon the mind and
temper, are to be mentioned as instances of it. Vice,
as such, is naturally attended with some sort of un-
easiness, and not uncommonly with great disturbance
and apprehension. That inward feeling, which, re-
specting lesser matters and in familiar speech, we call
being vexed with one’s self, and in matters of im-

 
 

PR
a ——T ET

——

232

portance, and in more serious language, remorse, is
an uneasiness naturally arising from an action of a
man’s own, reflected upon by himself as wrong, un-
reasonable, faulty, that is, vicious in greater or less
degrees; and this manifestly is a different feeling
from that uneasiness which arises from a sense of
mere loss or harm. What is more common than to
hear a man lamenting an accident or event, and add-
ing—But, however, he has the satisfaction that he
cannot blame himself for it; or, on the contrary, that
he has the uneasiness of being sensible it was his
own doing? Thus also, the disturbance and fear
which often follow upon a man’s having done an in-
jury, arise from a sense of his being blame-worthy ;
otherwise there would, in many cases, be no ground
of disturbance, nor any reason to fear resentment or
shame. On the other hand, inward security and
peace, and a mind open to the several gratifications
of life, are the natural attendants of innocence and
virtue; to which must be added, the complacency,
satisfaction, and even joy of heart, which accompany
the exercise, the real exercise of gratitude, friend-
ship, benevolence.

And here, I think, ought to be mentioned, the
fears of future punishment, and peaceful hopes of a
better life, in those who fully believe or have any
serious apprehension of religion; because these hopes
and fears are present uneasiness and satisfaction to
the mind, and cannot be got rid of by great part of
the world, even by men who have thought most
thoroughly upon that subject of religion. And no
one can say how considerable this uneasiness and
satisfaction may be, or what, upon the whole, it may
amount to.

 

233

In the next place comes in the consideration, that
all honest and good men are disposed to befriend ho-
nest and good men, as such, and to discountenance
the vicious, as such, and do so in some degree, in-
deed, in a considerable degree; from which favour
and discouragement cannot but arise considerable
advantage and inconvenience. And though the
generality of the world have little regard to the mo-
rality of their own actions, and may be supposed to
have less to that of others, when they themselves
are not concerned; yet, let any one be known to be
a man of virtue, somehow or other he will be fa-
voured, and good offices will be done him from regard
to his character, without remote views, occasionally,
and in some low degree, I think, by the generality
of the world, as it happens to come in their way.
Public honours, too, and advantages, are the natural
consequences, are sometimes at least the conse-
quences in fact, of virtuous actions, of eminent jus-
tice, fidelity, charity, love to our country, considered
in the view of being virtuous. And sometimes even
death itself, often infamy and external inconveniences,
are the public consequences of vice, as vice. For
instance, the sense which mankind have of tyranny,
injustice, oppression, additional to the mere feeling
or fear of misery, has doubtless been instrumental in
bringing about revolutions, which make a figure even
in the history of the world. For it is plain, men
resent injuries as implying faultiness, and retaliate,
not merely under the notion of having received harm,
but of having received wrong; and they have this
resentment in behalf of others, as well as of them-
selves. So, likewise, even the generality are, in

 
CS REARS PR TR

234

some degree, grateful and disposed to return good
offices, not merely because such a one has been the
occasion of good to them, but under the view that
such good offices implied kind intention and good
desert in the doer. To all this may be added two
or three particular things, which many persons will
think frivolous: but to me nothing appears so, which
at all comes in towards determining a question of
such importance, as whether there be or be not a
moral institution of government, in the strictest sense
moral, visibly established and begun in nature. The
particular things are these: that, in domestic govern-
ment, which is doubtless natural, children, and others
also, are very generally punished for falsehood, and
injustice, and ill behaviour, as such, and rewarded
for the contrary; which are instances where veracity,
and justice, and right behaviour, as such, are natu-
rally enforced by rewards and punishments, whether
more or less considerable in degree: that though
civil government be supposed to take cognizance of
actions in no other view than as prejudicial to socie=
ty, without respect to the immorality of them, yet
as such actions are immoral, so the sense which men
have of the immorality of them very greatly contri-
butes, in different ways, to bring offenders to justice;
and that entire absence of all crime and guilt, in the
moral sense, when plainly appearing, will almost of
course procure, and circumstances of aggravated guilt
prevent, a remission of the penalties annexed to civil
crimes, in many cases, though by no means in all.
Upon the whole, then, besides the good and bad
effects of virtue and vice upon men’s own minds, the
course of the world does, in some measure, turn upon

235

the approbation and disapprobation of them, as such
in others. The sense of well and ill-doing, the rer
sages of conscience, the love of good characters and
dislike of bad ones, honor, shame, resentment, gra-
titude; all these, considered in themselves, and in
their effects, do afford manifest real instances of vir-
tue, as such, naturally favoured, and of vice, as such,
discountenanced, more or less, in the daily course of
aT
’ at God has given
us a moral nature,* may most justly be urged as a
proof of our being under his moral government; but
that he has placed us in a condition, which gives this
nature, as one may speak, scope to operate, and in
which it does unavoidably operate, that is, influence
mankind to act, so as thus to favour and reward vir-
tue, and discountenance and punish vice ; this is not
the same, but a further additional proof of his moral
government ; for it is an instance of it. The first is a
proof, that he will finally favour and support virtue
effectually; the second is an example of his favouring
and supporting it at present, in some degree.
It a more distinct inquiry be made, whence it
arises, that virtue as such, is often rewarded, and
vice, as such, is punished, and this rule never in-
verted ; it will be found to proceed, in part, imme-
diately from the moral nature itself which God has
given us; and also, in part, from his having given
us, together with this nature, so great a power over
each other’s happiness and misery. For, first, it is
certain, that peace and delight, in some degree and

 

# See Dissertation 11.

 
236

upon some occasions, is the necessary and present
effect of virtuous practice; an effect arising imme-
diately from that constitution of our nature. We
are so made, that well-doing, as such, gives us satis-
faction, at least, in some instances; ill-doing, as
such, in none. And, secondly, from our moral na-
ture, joined with God’s having put our happiness
and misery, in many respects, in each other’s power,
it cannot but be that vice, as such, some kinds and
instances of it at least, will be infamous, and men
will be disposed to punish it as in itself detestable ;
and the villain will by no means be able always to
avoid feeling that infamy, any more than he will be
able to escape this further punishment which man-
kind will be disposed to inflict upon him, under the
notion of his deserving it. But there can be nothing
on the side of vice to answer this; because there is
nothing in the human mind contradictory, as the
logicians speak, to virtue. For virtue consists in a
regard to what is right and reasonable, as being so;
in a regard to veracity, justice, charity, in them-
selves: and there is surely no such thing as a like
natural regard to falsehood, injustice, cruelty. If it
be thought, that there are instances of an approba-
tion of vice, as such, in itself, and for its own sake,
(though it does not appear to me that there is any
such thing at all ; but, supposing there be) it is evi-
dently monstrous; as much so as the most acknow-
ledged perversion of any passion whatever. Such
instances of perversion, then, being left out as merely
imaginary, or, however, unnatural ; it must follow,
from the frame of our nature, and from our condi-
tion, in the respects now described, that vice cannot

 

237

at all be, and virtue cannot but be, favoured, as such
by others, upon some occasions, and happy in itself
in some degree. For what is here insisted upon is
not the degree in which virtue and vice are om
distinguished, but only the thing itself, that they ao
so in some degree; though the whole good and bad
effect of virtue and vice, as such, is not inconsider-
able in degree. But that théy must be thus dis-
tinguished, in some degree, is in a manner re
sary; it is matter of fact of daily experience, even in
the greatest confusion of human affairs.

It is not pretended but that, in the natural course
of things, happiness and misery appear to be distri-
buted by other rules, than only the personal merit
and demerit of characters. They may sometimes
be distributed by way of mere discipline. There
may be the wisest and best reasons why the world
should be governed by general laws, from whence
such promiscuous distribution perhaps must follow;
and also why our happiness and misery should Ye
put in each other’s power, in the degree which they
are. And these things, as in general they contri-
bute to the rewarding virtue and punishing vice, as
such; so they often contribute also, not to the te
version of this, which is impossible, but to the ren-
dering persons prosperous though wicked, afflicted
though righteous; and, which is worse, to the re-
warding some actions, though vicious, and punishing
other actions, though virtuous. But all this can-
not drown the voice of nature in the conduct of Pro-
vidence, plainly declaring itself for virtue, by way of
distinction from vice, and preference to it. For
our being so constituted as that virtue and vice ot

np ed ER PR A a

So ney

ro oni a

Fray

OR

 
238

thus naturally favoured and discountenanced, re-
warded and punished respectively as such, is an in-
tuitive proof of the intent of nature that it should be
so; otherwise the constitution of our mind, from
which it thus immediately and directly proceeds,
would be absurd. But it cannot be said, because
virtuous actions are sometimes punished, and vicious
actions rewarded, that nature intended it. For,
though this great disorder is brought about, as all
actions are done, by means of some natural passion,
yet this may be, as it undoubtedly is, brought about
by the perversion of such passion, implanted in us

for other, and those very good purposes. And in-

239

a d
1¢ t a y n ’ TI y
9 C e » S

SP EERE

che >
rE a

a

e . e s

a SE Totem 2

deed these other and good purposes, even of every

passion, may be clearly seen.

ey

We have then a declaration, in some degree of
resent effect, from him who is supreme in nature,
which side he is of, or what part he takes; a de-
claration for virtue and against vice. So far, there-
fore, as a man is true to virtue, to veracity and jus-
tice, to equity and charity, and the right of the case,
in whatever he is concerned, so far he 1s on the side
administration, and co-operates with it;
to such a man, arises naturally a
f security, and impli-

of the divine
and from hence,
secret satisfaction and sense 0
cit hope of somewhat further. And,

V. This hope 1s confirmed by the necessary ten-
dencies of virtue, which, though not of present ef-
fect, yet are at present discernible in nature; and so
afford an instance of somewhat moral in the essen-
tial constitution of it.
things, a tendency in virtue and vice to produce the
good and bad effects now mentioned, in a greater

i

There is, in the nature of

Ho

ds

sever: Te:
Se al e Se of equal, and several of su
or strength to tl ’
g 1at of men: and i
sum of the whol : m ok
e streng 1
than that of mankind tet A Se
8 : reason gives us th
vantage and superior I a
ge ¢ uperiority over then
: n, and th
is the acknowled wy
£ edeoec rerni 1
ot g! 1 gov erning animal upon the
* : or is this superiority considered by any
accidental ; but as wl :
what reason has a tend i
een; as a tendency, in
of th i -
oh e thing, to obtain. And yet, per-
hp : ; 5 ties 27 be raised about the meaning
s well as the truth of th i of
e assertion, that vi
the like tendency. a
To obvi: i i
bi Wowk these difficulties, let us see more dis
¢ 1 <
he J how the case stands with regard to reason
which 5 1
ay is so readily acknowledged to have this a
3 ao » 2
ot goat tendency. Suppose, then, two or three
0 > 1
3 0 fhe best and most improved understanding
a desolate open plain, attacked by im oo
. y ten times the

I

i

 
 

240

number of beasts of prey; would their reason se-
cure them the victory in this unequal combat ?
Power, then, though joined with reason, and under
its direction, cannot be expected to prevail over op-
posite power, though merely brutal, unless the one
bears some proporition to the other. Again, Put
the imaginary case, that rational and irrational crea-
tures were of like external shape and manner; it is
certain, before there were opportunities for the first
to distinguish each other, to separate from their ad-
versaries, and to form an union among themselves,
they might be upon a level, or, in several respects,
upon great disadvantage, though, united, they might
be vastly superior; since union is of such efficacy,
that ten men, united, might be able to accomplish
what ten thousand of the same natural strength and
understanding, wholly ununited, could not. In this
case, then, brute force might more than maintain its
ground against reason, for want of union among the
rational creatures. Or suppose a number of men to
land upon an island inhabited only by wild beasts;
a number of men, who by the regulations of civil
government, the inventions of art, and the expe-
rience of some years, could they be preserved so
long, would be really sufficient to subdue the wild
beasts, and to preserve themselves in security from
them; yet a conjuncture of accidents might give such
advantage to the irrational animals, as that they
might at once overpower, and even extirpate, the
whole species of rational ones. Length of time,
then, proper scope and opportunities for reason to
exert itself, may be absolutely necessary to its pre-
vailing over brute force. Further still: there are

 

241

many instances of brutes succeeding in attempts
which they could not have undertaken, had not i
irrational nature rendered them incapable of foresee-
ing he or of such attempts, or the fury of pas-
sion hindered their i it ;

instances of reason ams ® ia fn Be

; : prudence preventing

men’s undertaking what, it hath appeared afterwards
they might have succeeded in by a lucky relies
And in certain conjunctures, ignorance and foll
weakness and discord, may have their advanta
So that rational animals have not necessarily re
periority over irrational ones; but, how improbable
soever it may be, it is evidently possible, that, in
some globes, the latter may be superior. And wee
the former wholly at variance and disunited, by false
self-interest and envy, by treachery and injustice,
and consequent rage and malice against each other
whilst the latter were firmly united among thetitales
by instinct, this might greatly contribute to the in-
troducing such an inverted order of things. For
every one would consider it as inverted; nas reason
has, in the nature of it, a tendency to prevail over
brute force, notwithstanding the possibility it may
not prevail, and the necessity which there is of i
concurrent circumstances to render it prevalent.

Now, I say, virtue in a society has a like tendency
ase Temp i power, whether
: : 1 as the means of security
from opposite power, or of obtaining other advan-
a ict x fae this tendency, by rendering pub-

: : ject and end to every member of the
society : by putting every one upon consideration
and diligence, recollection and self-government, both
L 17

EE

SalegiatE

Bi SE

ne ¥owh A
se nee EE RE a SL

 
242

in order to see what is the most effectual WA and
1 ain-
also in order to perform their proper part, fo dhs
ing and preserving it; by uniting a fo ye >
itself, and so increasing its strength, and, w :
: De $10
aiilsly to be mentioned, uniting it by means :
ty and justice. For as these last a :
: spirit,
i benevolence, or public
bonds of union, so a
undirected, unrestrained by them, is—nobody
what. ms at
And suppose the invisible world, and the ed
ble dispensations of Providence, to be 2 any oo
; oO"
analogous to what appears; or, that bot 1 GE
2 r by S 0 r £3 3
i ‘heme, the two pa
make up one uniform sc yoga i
the oe which we see, and that which is beyond

: ; 1, there
observation, are analogous to each other; then,

p
of virtue, to preva
under its direction;
1 verse,
reason in the uni Soh ire
But then, in order to the grévaies of x por
y it has a tende
i tually produce what it
that it may actually | sii
to produce, the like concurrences are necess ys
; ) must be
are to the prevalence of reason. 3 here St Ye
ower 0
ion between the natural p
some proportion : Te
ich i er the direc
ich 1 t which is not, un rec
which is, and tha la
5 y ength 0 3
"vi : th ust be sufficient leng
of virtue: there m ghof dines
for the complete success of virtue, as of con ho
3 1 rwis
not. from the nature of the thing, be othe Lay
: >
gradual : there must be, as one may spea au
An} 1d extensive e >
field of trial, a stage large and wionss eaeaey
proper occasions and opportunities for tf hone
joi ther. to exert themselves against la
to join toge ,

il in general over that which is not
© - -

as there is in reason, derived
to prevail over brute force.

 

243

force, and to reap the fruit of their united labours.
Now, indeed, it is to be hoped, that the disproportion
between the good and the bad, even here on earth,
is not so great, but that the former have natural
power sufficient to their prevailing to a considerable
degree, if circumstances would permit this power to
be united. For, much less, very much less power,
under the direction of virtue, would prevail over
much greater, not under the direction of it. How-
ever, good men over the face of the earth cannot
unite; as for other reasons, so because they cannot
be sufficiently ascertained of each other’s characters.
And the known course of human things, the scene
we are now passing through, particularly the short-
ness of life, denies to virtue its full scope in several
other respects. The natural tendency which we
have been considering, though real, is hindered from
being carried into effect in the present state, but
these hinderances may be removed in a future one.
Virtue, to borrow the Christian allusion, is militant
here, and various untoward accidents contribute to
its being often overborne: but it may combat with
greater advantage hereafter, and prevail completely,
and enjoy its consequent rewards in some future
states. Neglected as it is, perhaps unknown, per-
haps despised and oppressed here, there may be
scenes in eternity, lasting enough, and in every other
way adapted to afford it a sufficient sphere of action,
and a sufficient sphere for the natural consequences
of it to follow in fact. If the soul be naturally im-
mortal, and this state be a progress towards a future
one, as childhood is towards mature age, good men
may naturally unite, not only amongst themselves,
L2

 
but also with other orders of virtuous creatures in
that future state. For virtue, from the very nature
of it, is a principle and bond of union, in some de-
gree, amongst all who are endued with it, and known
to each other; so as that by it a good man cannot
but recommend himself to the favour and protection
of all virtuous beings, throughout the whole universe,
who can be acquainted with his character, and can
any way interpose in his behalf in any part of his
duration. And one might add, that suppose all this
advantageous tendency of virtue to become effect
amongst one or more orders of creatures, in any dis-
tant scenes and periods, and to be seen by any or-
ders of vicious creatures, throughout the universal
kingdom of God; this happy effect of virtue would
have a tendency, by way of example, and possibly in
other ways, to amend those of them who are capa-
ble of amendment, and being recovered to a just
sense of virtue. If our notions of the plan of
Providence were enlarged, in any sort proportion-
able to what late discoveries have enlarged our views
with respect to the material world, representations
of this kind would not appear absurd or extravagant.
However, they are not to be taken as intended for
a literal delineation of what is in fact the particular
scheme of the universe, which cannot be known with-
out revelation ; for suppositions are not to be looked
on as true, because not incredible, but they are men-
tioned to show, that our finding virtue to be hinder-
ed from procuring to itself such superiority and ad-

vantages, is no objection against its having, in the
essential nature of the thing, a tendency to procure
them. And the suppositions now mentioned do

 

245

plainly show this: for they show, that these hinder-
pees are so far from being necessary, that we our-
se is can easily conceive how they may be removed
a ye states, and full scope be granted to virtue
nd all these adv: i i
ga. dv ntageous tendencies of it are to
he x ered as declarations of God in its favour
us, however, is taki re :
i Bie > is ing a pretty large compass;
g is certain, that as the material world ap-
peasy to be, in a manner, boundless and immense
there must be some scheme of Providence vast I
proportion to it.
Bax la us return to the earth, our habitation, and
we sha sec this happy tendency of virtue, by ima-
gming an mstance, not so vast and remote: by sup
Nod . ? r
posing a kingdom, or society of men, upon it 3
3 1 1 J
ectly virtuous, for a succession of many ages: tc
which, if you pleas i er
Ba : you p ease, may be given a situation advan-
Sens for universal monarchy. In such a state
hiss would be no such thing as faction, but men of
bie i capacity would, of course, all along, have
c direction of affairs willingly yielded to them
and they would share it among themselves witha
Ci Each of these would have the part assigned
im to which his genius was peculiarly ad Ta
others, who had ed ens By
? S 1a( ‘not any distinguished genius, would
e safe, and think themselves very ha by bei
under the protecti d gui Bn
i protection an guidance of those who had
an ie determinations would really be the result of
! 8 thing wisdom of the community, and they would
5 fully be executed by the united strength of it
Some would in a higher way contribute, but all would
2 ne i contribute to the public prosperity, and
1t each would enjoy the fruits of his own virtue

 
246

And as injustice, whether by fraud or force, would
be unknown among themselves, so they would be
sufficiently secured from it in their neighbours. For
cunning and false self-interest, confederacies in in-
justice, ever slight, and accompanied with faction and
intestine treachery; these, on one hand, would be
found mere childish folly and weakness, when set in
opposition against wisdom, public spirit, union in-
violable, and fidelity on the other, allowing both a
sufficient length of years to try their force. Add the
general influence which such a kingdom would have
over the face of the earth, by way of example parti-
cularly, and the reverence which would be paid it.
It would plainly be superior to all others, and the
world must gradually come under its empire; not by
means of lawless violence, but partly by what must
be allowed to be just conquest, and partly by other
kingdoms submitting themselves voluntarily to it
throughout a course of ages, and claiming its pro-
tection, one after another, in successive exigencies.
The head of it would be an universal monarch, in
another sense than any mortal has yet been, and the
eastern style would be literally applicable to him, that
all people, nations, and languages, should serve him.
And though indeed our knowledge of human nature,
and the whole history of mankind, show the impos-
sibility, without some miraculous interposition, that
a number of men here on earth should unite in one
society of government, in the fear of God, and uni-
versal practice of virtue, and that such a government
should continue so united for a succession of ages;
yet, admitting or supposing this, the effect would be
as now drawn out. And thus, for instance, the won-

 

247
derful power and prosperity promised to the Jewish

nation in the Scripture, would be, in a.great mea-
sure, the consequence of what is predicted of them;
that the < people should be all righteous, and ihe
rit the land for ever;” were we to understand the lat-
ter phrase of a long continuance only, sufficient to
give things time to work. The predictions of this
kind, for there are many of them, cannot come to
pass in the present known course of nature; but sup-
pose them come to pass, and then the dominion and
pre-eminence promised, must naturally follow, to a
very considerable degree.

Consider, now, the general system of religion; that
the government of the world is uniform, and one
and moral ; that virtue and right shall finally Bove
the advantage, and prevail over fraud and lawless
force, over the deceits as well as the violence of
wickedness, under the conduct of one supreme Go-
vernor ; and from the observations above made it will
appear, that God has, by our reason, given us to
see a peculiar connection in the several parts of this
scheme, and a tendency towards the completion of
it, arising out of the very nature of virtue; which
tendency is to be considered as somewhat moral in
the essential constitution of things. If any one
should think all this to be of little importance, I de-
sire him to consider what he would think, if vice had
essentially, and in its nature, these advantageous toh
dencies, or if virtue had essentially the direct con-
trary ones.

But it may be objected, that notwithstanding all
these natural effects, and these natural tendencies of

virtue, yet things may be now going on throughout

 
248

the universe, and may go on hereafter, in the same
mixed way as here at present upon earth ; virtue
sometimes prosperous, sometimes depressed; vice
sometimes punished, sometimes successful. The an-
swer to which is, that it is not the purpose of this
chapter, nor of this treatise, properly to prove God’s
perfect moral government over the world, or the truth
of religion, but to observe what there is in the con-
stitution and course of nature to confirm the proper
proof of it, supposed to be known, and that the weight
of the foregoing observations to this purpose, may be
thus distinctly proved. Pleasure and pain are in-
deed, to a certain degree, say to a very high degree,
distributed amongst us, without any apparent regard
to the merit or demerit of characters. And were
there nothing else, concerning this matter, discerni-
ble in the constitution and course of nature, there
would be no ground, from the constitution and course
of nature, to hope or to fear, that men would be re-
warded or punished hereafter according to their de-
serts; which, however, it is to be remarked, implies,
that even then there would be no ground, from ap-
pearances, to think that vice, upon the whole, would
have the advantage, rather than that virtue would.
And thus the proof of a future state of retribution
would rest upon the usual known arguments for it;
which are, I think, plainly unanswerable, and would
be so, though there were no additional confirmation
of them from the things above insisted on. But
these things are a very strong confirmation of them.
For, ;
1st, They show that the Author of Nature is not
indifferent to virtue and vice. They amount to a de-

 

249

claration from him, determinate, and not to be evaded,
in favour of one, and against the other; such a de-
claration as there is nothing to be set over against,
or answer, on the part of vice. So that were a man,
laying aside the proper proof of religion, to deter-
mine, from the course of nature only, whether it
were most probable that the righteous or the wicked
would have the advantage in a future life, there can
be no doubt but that he would determine the pro-
bability to be, that the former would. The course
of nature, then, in the view of it now given, fur-
nishes us with a real practical view of the obligations
of religion.

2dly, When, conformably to what religion teaches
us, God shall reward and punish virtue and vice, as
such, so as that every one shall, upon the whole, have
his deserts, this distributive justice will not be a thing
different in Zind, but only in degree, from what we
experience in his present government. It will be
that in effect, toward which we now see a tendency.
It will be no more than the completion of that moral
government, the principles and beginning of which
have been shown, beyond all dispute, discernible in
the present constitution and course of nature. And
from hence it follows,

3dly, That as, under the natural government of
God, our experience of those kinds and degrees of
happiness and misery, which we do experience at pre-
sent, gives just ground to hope for and to fear higher
degrees and other kinds of both in a future state,
supposing a future state admitted; so, under his mo-
ral government, our experience that virtue and vice
are, in the manners above-mentioned, actually re-

L3

 
250

warded and punished at present, in a certain degree,
gives just ground to hope and to fear, that they may
be rewarded and punished in a higher degree here-
after. It is acknowledged, indeed, that this alone is
not sufficient ground to think, that they actually will
be rewarded and punished in a higher degree, rather
than in a lower: but then, :
Lastly, There is sufficient ground to think 0,
from the good and bad tendencies of virtue and vice.
For these tendencies are essential, and founded in
the nature of things: whereas, the hinderances to
their becoming effect are, in numberless cases, not
necessary, but artificial only. Now, it may be Be
more strongly argued, that these tendencies, as we
as the actual rewards and punishments of virtue and
vice, which arise directly out of the nature of things,
will remain hereafter, than that the accidental hin-
derances of them will. And if these hinderances do
not remain, those rewards and punishments cannot
but be carried on much further towards the perfec-
tion of moral government, that is, the tendencies of
virtue and vice will become effect; but when, or where,
or in what particular way, cannot be known at all, but
by revelation. : ; iia
Upon the whole, there is a kind of mora vest
ment implied in God’s natural government ;* virtue
and vice are naturally rewarded and punished as
beneficial and mischievous to society, t and rewarded
and punished directly as virtue and vice.} The no-
tion, then, of a moral scheme of government, is not
fictitious, but natural; for it is suggested to our

 

* Page 228. 1 Page 229. 1 Page 2380, &eo.

 

251

thoughts, by the constitution and course of nature ;
and the execution of this scheme is actually begun,
in the instances here mentioned. And these things
are to be considered as a declaration of the Author
of nature, for virtue, and against vice; they give a
credibility to the supposition of their being rewarded
and punished hereafter, and also ground to hope and
to fear, that they may be rewarded and punished in
higher degrees than they are here. And as all this
is confirmed, so the argument for religion, from the
constitution and course of nature, is carried on far-
ther, by observing, that there are natural tendencies,
and in innumerable cases, only artificial hinderances,
to this moral scheme being carried on much farther
towards perfection than it is at present.* The no-
tion, then, of a moral scheme of government, much
more perfect than what is seen, is not a fictitious,
but a natural notion; for it is suggested to our
thoughts by the essential tendencies of virtue and
vice. And these tendencies are to be considered as
intimations, as implicit promises and threatenings,
from the Author of nature, of much greater rewards
and punishments to follow virtue and vice, than do
at present. And, indeed, every natural tendency,
which is to continue, but which is hindered from
becoming effect by only accidental causes, affords a
presumption, that such tendency will, some time or
other, become effect: a presumption in degree pro-
portionable to the length of the duration through
which such tendency will continue. And from these
things together arises a real presumption, that the

 

* Page 238, &ec.

 
252

moral scheme of government established in nature,
shall be carried on much farther towards perfection
hereafter, and, I think, a presumption that it will
be absolutely completed. But, from these things,
joined with the moral nature which God has given
us, considered as given us by him, arises a practical
proof * that it will be completed ; a proof from fact,
and therefore a distinct one, from that which is de-
duced from the eternal and unalterable relations, the
fitness and unfitness of actions.

 

* See this proof drawn out briefly, Chap. 6.

CHAP. IV.

Of a State of Probation, as implying Trial, Diffi-
culties and Danger.

THE general doctrine of religion, that our present
life is a state of probation for a future one, compre-
hends under it several particular things, distinct
from each other. But the first and most common
meaning of it seems to be, that our future interest
is now depending, and depending upon ourselves;
that we have scope and opportunities here for that
good and bad behaviour, which God will reward and
punish hereafter; together with temptations to one,
as well as inducements of reason to the other. And
this is, in great measure, the same with saying,
that we are under the moral government of God,
and to give an account of our actions to him. For
the notion of a future account, and general righteous
judgment, implies some sort of temptations to what
is wrong, otherwise there would be no moral possi-
bility of doing wrong, nor ground for judgment or
discrimination. But there is this difference, that
the word probation is more distinctly and particularly
expressive of allurements to wrong, or difficulties in
adhering uniformly to what is right, and of the dan-
ger of miscarrying by such temptations, than the
words moral government. A state of probation,
then, as thus particularly implying in it trial, diffi-
culties, and danger, may require to be considered

distinctly by itself.

 
a EAE
lS NE AR INT wn ir

a

254

And as the moral government of God, which re-
ligion teaches us, implies, that we are in a state of
trial with regard to a future world ; so also his natu-
ral government over us implies, that we are in a state
of trial, in the like sense, with regard to the present
world. Natural government, by rewards and punish-
ments, as much implies natural trial, as moral
government does moral trial. The natural govern-
ment of God here meant,* consists in his annexing
pleasure to some actions, and pain to others, which
are in our power to do or forbear, and in giving us
notice of such appointment beforehand. This ne-
cessarily implies, that he has made our happiness
and misery, or our interest, to depend in part upon
ourselves. And so far as men have temptations
to any course of action, which will probably occa-
sion them greater temporal inconvenience and un-
easiness than satisfaction, so far their temporal in-
terest is in danger from themselves, or they are in a
state of trial with respect to it. Now, people often
blame others, and even themselves, for their miscon-
duct in their temporal concerns. And we find many
are greatly wanting to themselves, and miss of that
natural happiness which they might have obtained
in the present life; perhaps every one does in some
degree. But many run themselves into great in-
convenience, and into extreme distress and misery,
not through incapacity of knowing better, and doing
better for themselves, which would be nothing to
the present purpose, but through their own fault.
And these things necessarily imply temptation, and

 

% Chap. 2.

 

 

255

danger of miscarrying, in a greater or less degree,
with respect to our worldly interest or happiness.
Livery ome, too, without having religion in his
thoughts, speaks of the hazards which young people
run upon their setting out in the world; hazards
from other causes, than merely their ignorance and
unavoidable accidents. And some courses of vice,
at least, being contrary to men’s worldly interest or
good, temptations to these must at the same time
be temptations to forego our present and our future
interest. Thus, in our natural or temporal capacity,
we are in a state of trial, that is, of difficulty and
danger, analogous or like to our moral and religious
trial.

This will more distinctly appear to any one, who
thinks it worth while, more distinctly, to consider
what it is which constitutes our trial in both capa-
cities, and to observe how mankind behave under
it.

And that which constitutes this our trial, in both
these capacities, must be somewhat either in our
external circumstances, or in our nature. For, on
the one hand, persons may be betrayed into wrong
behaviour upon surprise, or overcome upon any
other very singular and extraordinary external oc-
casions, who would, otherwise, have preserved their
character of prudence and of virtue: in which cases,
every one, in speaking of the wrong behaviour of
these persons, would impute it to such particular
external circumstances. And, on the other hand,
men who have contracted habits of vice and folly of
any kind, or have some particular passions in excess,
will seek opportunities, and, as it were, go out of

 
256
their way, to gratify themselves in these respects,
at the expense of their wisdom and their virtue; led
to it, as every one would say, not by external temp-
tations, but by such habits and passions. And the
account of this last case is, that particular passions
are no more coincident with prudence, or that rea-
sonable self-love, the end of which is our worldly
interest, than they are with the principle of virtue
and religion, but often draw contrary ways to one
as well as to the other; and so much particular pas-
sions are as much temptations to act imprudently
with regard to our worldly interest, as to act
viciously. ~~ However, as when we say, men are
misled by external circumstances of temptation, it
cannot but be understood, that there is somewhat
within themselves to render those circumstances
temptations, or to render them susceptible of im-
pressions from them; so, when we say, they are
misled by passions, it is always supposed, that there
are occasions, circumstances, and objects, exciting
these passions, and affording means for gratifying
them. And, therefore, temptations from within,
and from without, coincide, and mutually imply each
other. Now, the several external objects of the
appetites, passions, and affections, being present to
the senses, or offering themselves to the mind, and
so exciting emotions suitable to their nature, not
only in cases where they can be gratified consistently
with innocence and prudence, but also in cases where
they cannot, and yet can be gratified imprudently

 

# See Sermons preached at the Rolls, 1726, 2d. Ed. 205, &c.
Pref. p. 25, &c. Serm. p. 21, &c.

 

257

and viciously; this as really puts them in danger of
voluntarily foregoing their present interest or good,
as their future, and as really renders self-denial ne-
cessary to secure one as the other; that is, we are
in a like state of trial with respect to both, by the
very same passions excited by the very same means.
Thus mankind having a temporal interest depending
upon themselves, and a prudent course of behaviour
being necessary to secure it, passions inordinately
excited, whether by means of example or by any
other external circumstance, towards such objects,
at such times, or in such degrees, as that they can-
not be gratified consistently with worldly prudence,
are temptations dangerous, and too often successful
temptations, to forego a greater temporal good for a
less; that is, to forego what is, upon the whole,
our temporal interest, for the sake of a present gra-
tification. This is a description of our state of trial
in our temporal capacity. Substitute now the word
future for temporal, and virtue for prudence, and
it will be just as proper a description of our state of
trial in our religious capacity; so analogous are they
to each other.

If, from consideration of this our like state of
trial in both capacities, we go on to observe farther,
how mankind behave under it, we shall find there
are some who have so little sense of it, that they
scarce look beyond the passing day; they are so
taken up with present gratifications, as to have, in
a manner, no feeling of consequences, no regard to
their future ease or fortune in this life, any more
than to their happiness in another. Some appear
to be blinded and deceived by inordinate passion in

 
258

their worldly concerns, as much as in religion.
Others are not deceived, but, as it were, forcibly
carried away by the like passions, against their bet-
ter judgment, and feeble resolutions too, of acting
* better. And there are men, and truly they are not
a few, who shamelessly avow, not their interest,
but their mere will and pleasure, to be their law of
life; and who, in open defiance of every thing that
is reasonable, will go on in a course of vicious ex-
travagance, foreseeing, with no remorse, and little
fear, that it will be their temporal ruin; and some
of them, under the apprehension of the consequen-
ces of wickedness in another state: And, to speak
in the most moderate way, human creatures are not
only continually liable to go wrong voluntarily, but
we see likewise that they often actually do so, with
respect to their temporal interests, as well as with
respect to religion.

Thus, our difficulties and dangers, or our trials
in our temporal and our religious capacity, as they
proceed from the same causes, and have the same
effect upon men’s behaviour, are evidently analogous,
and of the same kind.

It may be added, that as the difficulties and dan-
gers of miscarrying in our religious state of trial are
greatly increased, and, one is ready to think, in a
manner wholly made, by the ill behaviour of others ;
by a wrong education, wrong in a moral sense, some-
times positively vicious; by general bad example
by the dishonest artifices which are got into business
of all kinds; and, in very many parts of the world,
by religion being corrupted into superstitions which
indulge men in their vices; so, in like manner, the

 

 

259

difficulties of conducting ourselves prudently in re-
spect to our present interest, and our danger of be-
ing led aside from pursuing it, are greatly increased
by a foolish education, and, after we come to ma-
ture age, by the extravagance and carelessness of
others, whom we have intercourse with; and by
mistaken notions, very generally prevalent, and ta-
ken up from common opinion, concerning temporal
happiness, and wherein it consists. And persons,
by their own negligence and folly in their temporal
affairs, no less than by a course of vice, bring them-
selves into new difficulties, and, by habits of indul-
gence, become less qualified to go through them;
and one irregularity after another embarrasses things
to such a degree, that they know not whereabout
they are, and often makes the path of conduct so
intricate and perplexed, that it is difficult to trace it
out; difficult even to determine what is the prudent
or the moral part. Thus, for instance, wrong be-
haviour in one stage of life, youth; wrong, I mean,
considering ourselves only in our temporal capacity,
without taking in religion; this, in several ways, in-
creases the difficulties of right behaviour in mature
age; that is, puts us into a more disadvantageous
state of trial in our temporal capacity.

We are an inferior part of the creation of God:
there are natural appearances of our being in a state
of degradation;* and we certainly are in a condi-
tion which does not seem, by any means, the most
advantageous we could imagine or desire, either in
our natural or moral capacity, for securing either

 

# Part II. Chap. 5.

 
 

RR

260

our present or our future interest. However, this
condition, low, and careful, and uncertain as it is,
does not afford any just ground of complaint. For,
as men may manage their temporal affairs with pru-
dence, and so pass their days here on earth in toler-
able ease and satisfaction, by a moderate degree of
care; so, likewise, with regard to religion, there is
no more required than what they are well able to
do, and what they must be greatly wanting to them-
selves if they neglect. . And for persons to have
that put upon them which they are well able to go
through, and no more, we naturally consider as an
equitable thing, supposing it done by proper autho-
rity. Nor have we any more reason to complain of
it, with regard to the Author of nature, than of his
not having given us other advantages, belonging to
other orders of creatures.

But the thing here insisted upon is, that the
state of trial which religion teaches us we are in, is
rendered credible, by its being throughout wil
and of a piece with the general conduct of Provi-
dence towards us, in all other respects within the
compass of our knowledge. Indeed, if mankind,
considered in their natural capacity as inhabitants of
this world only, found themselves, from their birth
to their death, in a settled state of security and
happiness, without any solicitude or thought of
their own; or, if they were in no danger of being
brought into inconvenience and distress by careless-
ness, or the folly of passion, through bad exam-
ple, the treachery of others, or the deceitful ap-
pearances of things; were this our natural condi-

261

sumption against the truth of religion, that it re
presents our future and more general interest, as not
secure of course, but as depending upon our beha-
viour, and requiring recollection and self-govern-
ment to obtain it. For it might be alleged, « What
you say is our condition in one respect, is not in
any wise of a sort with what we find, by experi-
ence, our condition is in another. Qur whole pre-
sent interest is secured to our hands, without any
solicitude of ours, and why should not our future
interest, if we have any such, be so too? But
sincé, on the contrary, thought and consideration,
the voluntary denying ourselves many things which
we desire, and a course of behaviour far from being
always agreeable to us, are absolutely necessary to
our acting even a common decent and common pru-
dent part, so as to pass with any satisfaction through
the present world, and be received upon any tole-
rable good terms in it; since this is the case, all
presumption against self-denial and attention being
necessary to secure our higher interest is removed.
Had we not experience, it might, perhaps, speci-
ously be urged, that it is improbable any thing of
hazard and danger should be put upon us by an in-
finite Being, when every thing which is hazard and
danger in our manner of conception, and will end

in error, confusion, and misery, is now already cer-
tain in his foreknowledge. And, indeed, why any
thing of hazard and danger should be put upon such
frail creatures as we are, may well be thought a dif-
ficulty in speculation; and cannot but be so, till we
know the whole, or, however, much more of the

tion, then it might seem strange, and be some pre- } case. But still the constitution of nature is as it
y |

————

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262

is. Our happiness and misery are trusted to our
conduct, and made to depend upon it. Somewhat,
and, in many circumstances, a great deal too, is put
upon us, either to do or to suffer, as we choose.
And all the various miseries of life, which people
bring upon themselves by negligence and folly, and
might have avoided by proper care, are instances of
this; which miseries are, beforehand, just as contin-
gent and undetermined as their conduct, and left to
be determined by it.”

These observations are an answer to the objec-
tions against the credibility of a state of trial, as im-
plying temptations, and real danger of miscarrying
with regard to our general interest, under the moral
government of God; and they show, that, if we are
at all to be considered in such a capacity, and as
having such an interest, the general analogy of Pro-
vidence must lead us to apprehend ourselves in dan-
ger of miscarrying, in different degrees, as to this
interest, by our neglecting to act the proper part be-
longing to us in that capacity. For we have a pre-
sent interest, under the government of God which
we experience here upon earth. And this interest,
as it is not forced upon us, so neither is it offered to
our acceptance, but to our acquisition ; in such sort,
as that we are in danger of missing it, by means of
temptations to neglect or act contrary to its and
without attention and self-denial, must and do miss
of it. It is then perfectly credible, that this may
be our case with respect to that chief and final good
which religion proposes to us.

263

CHAP. V.

Of a State of Probation, as intended for Moral
Discipline and Improvement.

. :
; Bao 0 consideration of our being in a proba
on-state, of so much diffi :
culty and hazard
i: . y azard, natu-
y y og the question, how we came to be Sheol in
fei ; ut such a general inquiry as this would he
& 1 ] valved in insuperable difficulties. For
We I some of these difficulties would be lessened } ’
observing, that all wi i
g, all wickedness is vol is i
ad ! untary, as is im-
P nt very notion, and that many of the miseries
ite have apparent good eff one
: 0 ects, vet when w
+ pp: sy en we con-
for other circumstances belonging to both, and
whe i
hi must be the consequence of the former in yf life
com
i Ye it cannot but be acknowledged plain folly
esumption, to pretend to oi
0 g1ve an }
the whole reaso i 2 ra
asons of this matter: th
2 ¢ ; the whole reasons
3 on es allotted a condition, out of which s
uch wickedness and mi
1sery, so circumst
ne : : anced
» a in fact arise. Whether it be not beyond oe)
les, not only to find out, b y
ut even t
: it, o under-
hal the whole account of this; or, thouch +v
shou 3 ; DE
Yo he i capable of understanding i yet
er 1t would be of service tudice 20 dr 6
id b or prejudice to us
be informed of it, is impossible to say.

But as
of our
present condition can in nowise be show

religion teaches us we were place

: l in it, tl
a : C , that we
ght qualify ourselves, by the practice of virtue, for

 
 

 

ich 1 it. And this,
another state, which is to follow it a Andis
though but a partial answer, a very partia 38
? inquiry now mentioned, yet 1s a
deed, to the inquiry i Wp
satisfactory answer to another, whic "
e answered—
of the utmost importance to us to hav 2 Tl
; : . oe
the inquiry, What is our business her Ly
‘hy we are placed in a state
known end, then, why AE
iction, hazard, and difhculty, 1s,
so much affliction, So io at Al
provement in virtue and piety, as the oy es
arity and ha ;
i state of security a
fication for a future you ;
1 ife, considered as an edu
i of life, considere
Now, the beginning
; i sent world, appears
tion for mature age in the present w orld, Pp :
0 1 r trial for
Hels at first sight, analogous to this oa Kaw
s «“ : 2 : ;
sw being, in our
a future one; the former bei a, CF Sona
itv. what the latter is in our re gious cap y
A i to both of them, and
But some observations common : ym
i i hy, w 101 -
a more distinct consideration of wh n Bs
¢ ce oi the analogy be-
i extent and force logy
tinctly show the fitee of the supgy be:
t i them: and the credibility, which arises on
: : :
: . from the nature of the thing, tha
hence, as well as from Nditis ile
the present life was intended to be a ste
ine for a future one. 4
Phios E species of creatures is, we see, designed
4 v
Ln ife ‘hich the nature, the
for a particular way of life, to w 2 pi
iti ifications sach spec
cities, temper, and qualifications, of each 5] ,
ns DY as their external circumstances.
Sok : 1 'h state, or particu-
Both come into the notion of such state, or j jo
lar way of life, and are constituent parts : .
ar wa : a
I : a man’s capacities or character to the deg
diet x i ivable they may be changed, and
in which it is conceivable they may : 3) ga
he would be altogether incapable of a Hi oe
1 : inc: as 1
of life and human happiness ; as incapa : i
re placed
nature continuing unchanged, he were |

 

265

world where he had no sphere of action,
jects to answer his appetites,
of any sort.

nor any ob-
passions, and affections

One thing is set over against another,

as an ancient writer expresses it. Qur nature cor-

responds to our external condition. Without this
correspondence, there would be no possibility of any
such thing as human life and human happiness ;
which life and happiness are, therefore, a result from
our nature and condition jointly; meaning by human
life, not living in the literal sense, but the whole
complex notion commonly understood by those words.
So that, without determining what will be the em-
ployment and happiness, the particular life of good
men hereafter, there must be some determinate ca-
pacities, some necessary character and qualifications,
without which persons cannot but be utterly incap-
able of it; in like manner as there must be some,
without which men would be incapable of their pre-
sent state of life. Now,
II. The constitution of human creatures,
deed of all creatures which come under our
is such, as that they are capable of
ing qualified for states of life, for which they were
once wholly unqualified. In imagination, we ma
indeed conceive of creatures, as incapable of having
any of their faculties naturally enlarged, or as being.
unable naturally to acquire any new qualifications ;
but the faculties of every species known to us are
made for enlargement, for acquirements of experience

and habits,
dued with capacities,
and of knowledge or
storing up our ideas

and in-
notice,
naturally becom-

We find ourselves, in particular, en-

not only of perceiving ideas,

perceiving truth, but also of

and knowledge by memory.
M 17

 
 

We are capable, not only of set and ) Ls
different momentary impressions Hiv sid bh
of getting a new facility in any kin ot 2 > hii
of settled alterations in our temper or ¢ , Es
power of the two last is the power 0 " a Pa
ither the perception of ideas, nor knowledg :
Er are habits, though absolutely necessary 0
However, apprehension, rea-
cities of acquiring

any sort,
the forming of them.
son, memory, which are the oo I ts
knowledge, are greatly improve ys ee.
ther the word habit is applicable to al e np hm
ments, and, in particular, how fur he bor So
HI oo er Te 4 et perceptions
nature, 1 shall not inquire. aps
come into our minds readily and of cours > yr oe
of their having been i AE os whi of
the same sort, as readiness in any pe : 4
action, proceeding from being gi o ¥
And aptness to recollect practical o

i i it 1 cases.
vice in our conduct, is plainly habit in many

Tt ts of action.

There are habits of perception, and habit pf Schon.
An instance of the former, 1s our constan a .
involuntary readiness in correcting the Tr
i 1 : istances

i i des and dist: .
of our sight concerning magmtu

. oth
i ude the room of sens
; stitute judgment 1n
5 as en nt 3 And it seems as

tion, imperceptibly, to oursely es. I
if all other associations of ideas, not 1 y

- - . rl .

ted, might be called passive habits, as properly

gig i ges upon
as our readiness In understanding languages up

e

267

and the latter will be explained by the former. Un-
der the former are comprehended all bodily activities
or motions, whether graceful or unbecoming, which
are owing to use; under the latter, general habits
of life and conduct, such as those of obedience and
submission to authority, or to any particular person;
those of veracity, justice, and charity; those of at-
tention, industry, self-government, envy, revenge.
And habits of this latter kind seem produced by re-
peated acts, as well as the former. And in like
manner, as habits belonging to the body are produced
by external acts, so habits of the mind are produced
by the exertion of inward practical principles; that
is, by carrying them into act, or acting upon them,
the principles of obedience, of veracity, justice, and
charity. Nor can those habits be formed by any
external course of action, otherwise than as it pro-
ceeds from these principles; because it is only these
inward principles exerted, which are strictly acts of
obedience, of veracity, of justice, and of charity.
So, likewise, habits of attention, industry, self-go-
vernment, are, in the same manner, acquired by ex-
ercise; and habits of envy and revenge by indul-
gence, whether in outward act or in thought and in-
tention, that is, inward act; for such intention is an
act. Resolutions also to do well are properly acts.
And endeavouring to enforce upon our own minds
a practical sense of virtue, or to beget in others that
practical sense of it which a man really has himself,
1s a virtuous act. All these, therefore, may and
will contribute towards forming good habits. But,
going over the theory of virtue in one’s thoughts,
talking well, and drawing fine pictures of it, this is
M2

 
ep med

ERE DERN,

 

268

so far from necessarily or certainly conducing to form
a habit of it in him who thus employs himself, that
it may harden the mind in a contrary course, and
render it gradually more insensible, that is, form a
habit of insensibility to all moral considerations.
For, from our very faculty of habits, passive impres-
sions, by being repeated, grow weaker. Thoughts,
by often passing through the mind, are felt less sen-
sibly; being accustomed to danger, begets intrepid-
ity, that is, lessens fear; to distress, lessens the pas-
sion of pity; to instances of others’ mortality, lessens
the sensible apprehension of our own. And from
these two observations together, that practical habits
are formed and strengthened by repeated acts, and
that passive impressions grow weaker by being re-
peated upon us, it must follow, that active habits
may be gradually forming and strengthening, by a
course of acting upon such and such motives and ex-
citements, whilst these motives and excitements
themselves are, by proportionable degrees, growing
less sensible; that is, are continually less and less
sensibly felt, even as the active habits strengthen.
And experience confirms this; for active principles,
at the very time that they are less lively in percep-
tion than they were, are found to be some how
wrought more thoroughly into the temper and char-
acter, and become more effectual in influencing our
practice. The three things just mentioned may af-
ford instances of it. Perception of danger is a natu-
ral excitement of passive fear and active caution; and
by being inured to danger, habits of the latter are
gradually wrought, at the same time that the former
gradually lessens. Perception of distress in others

269

is a natural excitement, passively to pity, and actively
to relieve it; but let a man set himself to attend to,
inquire out, and relieve distressed persons, and he
cannot but grow less and less sensibly affected with
the various miseries of life, with which he must be-
come acquainted; when yet, at the same time, bene-
volence, considered not as a passion, but es rac-
tical principle of action, will strengthen ; and i
he passively compassionates the distressed less, bre
will acquire a greater aptitude actively to assist and
befriend them. So also, at the same time that the
daily instances of men dying around us give os
daily a less sensible passive feeling or apprelension
of our own mortality, such instances greatly contri-
bute to the strengthening a practical regard to it in
serious men ; that is, to forming a habit of acting
with a constant view to it. And this seems aunin
further to show, that passive impressions made o on
our minds by admonition, experience, nL
though they may have a remote efficacy, and a a
great one, towards forming active habits, yet can
have this efficacy no otherwise than by inducing us
i such a course of action; and that it is, not heli
afte i ,
a - a Sop or which forms those
real endeavours to stots " » wi fas
Feu : good impressions upon
ourselves, are a species of virtuous action. Nor do
we know how far it is possible, in the nature of
things, that effects should be wrought in us at once
equivalent to habits, that is, what is wrought by "
and exercise. However, the thing Judged upon is
not what may be possible, but what is in fact the a -
pointment of nature, which is, that active habits 4

 
en

18

TAN

 

270

to be formed by exercise. Their progress may be
so gradual as to be imperceptible of its steps; it may
be hard to explain the faculty by which we are cap-
able of habits, throughout its several parts, and to
trace it up to its original, so as to distinguish it from
all others in our mind; and it seems as if contrary
effects were to be ascribed to it. But the thing in
ceneral, that our nature is formed to yield, in some
cach manner as this, to use and exercise, 1s matter
of certain experience. ;
Thus, by accustoming ourselves to any course 0
action, we get an aptness to go on, a facility, readi-
ness, and often pleasure in it. The inclinations
which rendered us averse to it grow weaker; the
difficulties in it, not only the imaginary but the real
ones, lessen; the reasons for it offer themselves of
course to our thoughts upon all occasions; and the
Jeast glimpse of them is sufficient to make us go on
in a course of action to which we have been accus-
tomed. And practical principles appear to grow
stronger, absolutely in themselves, by exercise, i
well as relatively, with regard to contrary principles i
which by being accustomed to submit, do so habitu-
ally, and of course. And thus a new character, in
several respects, may be formed ; and many habitudes
of life, not given by nature, but which nature directs
uire.
= CL we may be assured, that we should
never have had these capacities of improving by ex-
perience, acquired knowledge and habits, had they
not been necessary, and intended to be made use of.
And, accordingly, we find them so necessary, and so
much intended, that without them we should be ut-

271

terly incapable of that which was the end for which
we were made, considered in our temporal capacity
only; the employments and satisfactions of our ma-
ture state of life.
Nature does in nowise qualify us wholly, much
less at once, for this mature state of life. Even
maturity of understanding and bodily strength are
not only arrived to gradually, but are also very much
owing to the continued exercise of our powers of
body and mind from infancy. But if we suppose a
person brought into the world with both these in
maturity, as far as this is conceivable, he would
plainly at first be as unqualified for the human life
of mature age, as an idiot. He would be in a man-
ner distracted with astonishment, and apprehension,
and curiosity, and suspense; nor can one guess how
long it would be before he would be familiarized to
himself, and the objects about him, enough even to
set himself to any thing. It may be questioned too,
whether the natural information of his sight and
hearing would be of any manner of use at all to him
in acting, before experience. And it seems that
men would be strangely headstrong and self-willed,
and disposed to exert themselves with an impetuosity
which would render society insupportable, and the
living in it impracticable, were it not for some ac-
quired moderation and self-government, some apti-
tude and readiness in restraining themselves, and
concealing their sense of things. Want of every
thing of this kind which is learned, would render a
man as incapable of society as want of language
would ; or as his natural ignorance of any of the par-
ticular employments of life, would render him in-

 
rT ERR

 

272

capable of providing himself with the common con-
veniences, or supplying the necessary wants of it.
In these respects, and probably in many more, of
which we have no particular notion, mankind is left
by nature an unformed, unfinished creature, utterly
deficient and unqualified, before the acquirement of
knowledge, experience, and habits, for that mature
state of life, which was the end of his creation, con-
sidering him as related only to this world.

But then, as nature has endued us with a power
of supplying those deficiencies, by acquired know-
ledge, experience, and habits; so, likewise, we are
placed in a condition, in infancy, childhood, and
youth, fitted for it; fitted for our acquiring those
qualifications of all sorts, which we stand in need of
in mature age. Hence children, from their very
birth, are daily growing acquainted with the objects
about them, with the scene in which they are placed,
and to have a future part; and learning somewhat or
other, necessary to the performance of it. The
subordinations, to which they are accustomed in
domestic life, teach them self-government in com-
mon behaviour abroad, and prepare them for sub-
jection and obedience to civil authority. What
passes before their eyes, and daily happens to them,
gives them experience, caution against treachery
and deceit, together with numberless little rules of
action and conduct, which we could not live without,
and which are learned so insensibly and so perfectly,
as to be mistaken perhaps for instinct ; though they
are the effect of long experience and exercise; as
much so as language, or knowledge in particular
business, or the qualifications and behaviour belong-

273

ing to the several ranks and professions. Thus
the beginning of our days is adapted to be, and ”
a state of education in the theory and practice of
mature life. We are much assisted in it by example
instruction, and the care of others; but a great deal
is left to ourselves to do. And of this, as part is
done easily and of course, so part requires diligence
and care, the voluntary foregoing many things which
we desire, and setting ourselves to what we should
have no inclination to, but for the necessity or ex-
pedience of it. For, that labour and industry which
the station of so many absolutely requires, they
would be greatly unqualified for in maturity, as those
in other stations would be for any other sorts of ap-
plication, if both were not accustomed to them in
their youth. And according as persons behave
themselves, in the general education which all go
through, and in the particular ones adapted to par-
ticular employments, their character is formed, and
made appear ; they recommend themselves more or
less; and are capable of, and placed in, different
stations in the society of mankind.

T he former part of life, then, is to be considered
as an important opportunity, which nature puts into
our hands, and which, when lost, is not to be re-
covered. And our being placed in a state of dis-
cipline throughout this life, for another world, is a
providential disposition of things, exactly of the
same kind as our being placed in a state of disci-
pline during childhood, for mature age. Our con-
dition in both respects is uniform and of a piece,
and comprehended under one and the same general
law of nature. t

M3

 
re semerssemmmened

Re SER YR iene RL

 

 

 

 

274

And if we are not able at all to discern, how or
in what way the present life could be our preparation
for another, this would be no objection against the

credibility of its being so. For we do not discern

how food and sleep contribute to the growth of fle
body, nor could have any thought that they wou :
before we had experience. Nor do children at a
think, on the one hand, that the sports and exer-
cises, to which they are so much addicted, contri-
bute to their health and growth; nor, on the other,
of the necessity which there is for their being re-
strained in them; nor are they capable of ple.
standing the use of many parts of discipline, big
nevertheless they must be made to go through, in
order to qualify them for the business of Dye
age. Were we not able, then, to discover n¥ at
respects the present life could form us for 2 ike
one, yet nothing would be more fost et »
that it might, in some respects or other, rom 4 e
general analogy of Providence. And this, 4
aught I see, might reasonably be said, even thoug]
we should not take in the consideration of Gods
moral government over the world. But,

IV. Take in this consideration, and consequent-
ly, that the character of virtue and piety 1s Sess
sary qualification for the future state, and then y e
may distinctly see how, and in what respects, the
present life may be a preparation for it; since we
want, and are capable of, improvement in that cha-
racter, by moral and religious habits ; and the pre-
sent life is fit to be a state of discipline for wr 2
provement ; in like manner, as we have alrea yo
served, how and in what respects, infancy, child-

 

 

275

hood and youth, are a necessary preparation, and
a natural state of discipline, for mature age.
Nothing which we at present see would lead us
to the thought of a solitary inactive state hereafter ;
but, if we judge at all from the analogy of nature,
we must suppose, according to the Scripture account
of it, that it will be a community. And there is
no shadow of any thing unreasonable in conceiving,
though there be no analogy for it, that this com-
munity will be, as the Scripture represents it, under
the more immediate, or, if such an expression may
be used, the more sensible government of God.
Nor is our ignorance, what will be the employments
of this happy community, nor our consequent igno-
rance, what particular scope or occasion there will
be for the exercise of veracity, justice, and charity,
amongst the members of it with regard to each other,
any proof that there will be no sphere of exercise
for those virtues. Much less, if that were possible,
is our ignorance any proof that there will be no oc-
casion for that frame of mind, or character, which
is formed by the daily practice of those particular
virtues here, and which is a result from it. This
at least must be owned in general, that as the go-
vernment established in the universe is moral, the
character of virtue and piety must, in some way or
other, be the condition of our happiness, or the qua-
lification for it.

Now, from what is above observed concerning
our natural power of habits, it is easy to see, that
we are capable of moral improvement by discipline.
And how greatly we want it, need not be proved to
any one who is acquainted with the great wicked

 
 

 

 

 

 

276
ness of mankind, or even with those imperfections
which the best are conscious of. But it is not per-
haps distinctly attended to by every one, that the
occasion which human creatures have for discipline,
to improve in them this character of virtue and pe
ety, is to be traced up higher than to excess in the
passions, by indulgence and habits of vice. Man-
kind, and perhaps all finite creatures, from the very
constitution of their nature, before habits of virtue,
are deficient, and in danger of deviating from what
is right, and therefore stand in need of virtuous ha-
bits, for a security against this danger. For, toge-
ther with the general principle of moral understand-
ing, we have in our inward frame various affections
towards particular external objects. ' These affec-
tions are naturally and of right, subject to the go-
vernment of the moral principle, as to the occasions
on which they may be gratified, as to the times, de-
grees, and manner, in which the objects of them
may be pursued; but then the principle of virtue
can neither excite them, nor prevent their being
excited. On the contrary, they are naturally felt,
when the objects of them are present to the mind,
not only before all consideration, whether they can
be obtained by lawful means, but after it is found
they cannot. For the natural objects of affection
continue so; the necessaries, conveniences, and
pleasures of life, remain naturally desirable, though
they cannot be obtained innocently, nay, though
they cannot possibly be obtained at all. And Ria
the objects of any affection whatever cannot be ob-
tained without unlawful means, but may be obtain-
ed by them, such affection, though its being excited,

277

and its continuing some time in the mind, be as
innocent as it is natural and necessary, yet cannot
but be conceived to have a tendency to incline per-
sons to venture upon such unlawful means, and
therefore must be conceived as putting them in some
danger of it. Now, what is the general securit

against this danger, against their actually deviating
from right? As the danger is, so also must the
security be from within, from the practical principle
of virtue.* And the strengthening or improving
this principle, considered as practical, or as a prin-
cipie of action, will lessen the danger or increase
the security against it. And this moral principle is
capable of improvement, by proper discipline and
exercise; by recollecting the practical impressions
which example and experience have made upon us;
and, instead of following humour and mere inclina-
tion, by continually attending to the equity and

 

* It may be thought, that a sense of interest would as effec-
tually restrain creatures from doing wrong. But if by a sense of
interest, is meant, a speculative conviction or belief that such
and such indulgence would occasion them greater uneasiness,
upon the whole, than satisfaction, it is contrary to present ex-
perience to say, that this sense of interest is sufficient to restrain
them from thus indulging themselves. And if by a sense of in-
terest, is meant, a practical regard to what is upon the whole
our happiness, this is not only coincident with the principle of
virtue or moral rectitude, but is a part of the idea itself. And, it
is evident, this reasonable self-love wants to be improved, as
really as any principle in our nature. For we daily see it over-
matched, not only by the more boisterous passions, but by cu-
riosity, shame, love of imitation, by any thing, even indolence ;
especially if the interest, the temporal interest, suppose, which
is the end of such seli-love, be at a distance. So greatly are
profligate men mistaken, when they affirm they are wholly
governed by interestedness and self-love ; and so little cause

is there for moralists to disclaim this principle. See pp. 255,
256.

 
 

278

right of the case, in whatever we are engaged, be
it in greater or less matters, and adeustoming our-
selves always to act upon it, as being itself the just
and natural motive of action; and as this moral
course of behaviour must necessarily, under divine
government, be our final interest. Thus the prin-
ciple of virtue, improved into a habit, of which im-
provement we are thus capable will plainly be, in
proportion to the strength of it, a security goats
the danger which finite creatures are in, JSrom the
very nature of propension, or particular tions
This way of putting the matter, supposes particu ar
affections to remain in a future state, which it is
scarce possible to avoid supposing. And if they
do, we clearly see, that acquired habits of virtue
and self-government may be necessary for the regu-
lation of them. However, though we were i
distinctly to take in this supposition, but spea
only in general, the thing really comes to the same.
For habits of virtue, thus acquired by discipline, are
improvement in virtue; and improvement in virtue
must be advancement in happiness, if the govern-
ment of the universe be moral. Hom
From these things we may observe, and it will
farther show this our natural and original need of
being improved by discipline, how it comes to pass,
that creatures, made upright, fall; and that those
who preserve their uprightness, by so doing, ee
themselves to a more secure state of virtue. bo
say that the former is accounted for by the nature
of liberty, is to say no more than that an event
actually happening is accounted for by a mets pe
sibility of its happening. But it seems distinctly

 

279

conceivable from the very nature of particular affec-
tions or propensions. For, suppose creatures in-
tended for such a particular state of life, for which
such propensions were necessary; suppose them en-
dued with such propensions, together with moral
understanding, as well including a practical sense of
virtue as a speculative perception of it; and that
all these several principles, both natural and moral,
forming an inward constitution of mind, were in the
most exact proportion possible; that is, in a propor-
tion the most exactly adapted to their intended state
of life; such creatures would be made upright, or
finitely perfect. Now, particular propensions, from
their very nature, must be felt, the objects of them
being present, though they cannot be gratified at all,
or not with the allowance of the moral principle. But
if they can be gratified without its allowance, or by
contradicting it, then they must be conceived to have
some tendency, in how low a degree soever, yet
some tendency, to induce persons to such forbidden
gratification. This tendency, in some one particular
propension, may be increased, by the greater fre-
quency of occasions naturally exciting it, than of occa-
sions exciting others. The least voluntary indulgence
in forbidden circumstances, though but in thought,
will increase this wrong tendency, and may increase
it further, till, peculiar conjunctures perhaps con-
spiring, it becomes effect ; and danger of deviating
from right, ends in actual deviation from it: a dan-
ger necessarily arising from the very nature of pro-
pension, and which, therefore, could not have been
prevented, though it might have been escaped, or
got innocently through. The case would be, as if

 
 

280

we were to suppose a strait path marked out for a
person, in which such a degree of attention would
keep him steady; but if he would not attend in this
degree, any one of a thousand objects catching his
eye, might lead him out of it. Now, it is impos-
sible to say, how much even the first full overt act
of irregularity might disorder the inward constitu-
tion, unsettle the adjustments, and alter the propor-
tions which formed it, and in which the uprightness
of its make consisted. But repetition of irregulari-
ties would produce habits: and thus the constitu-
tion would be spoiled, and creatures, made upright,
become corrupt and depraved in their settled charac-
ter, proportionably to their repeated irregularities in
occasional acts. But, on the contrary, these crea-
tures might have improved and raised themselves to
a higher and more secure state of virtue, by the
contrary behaviour, by steadily following the moral
principle, supposed to be one part of their nature,

and thus withstanding that unavoidable danger of

defection, which necessarily arose from propension,
the other part of it. For, by thus preserving their
integrity for some time, their danger would lessen,
since propensions, by being inured to submit, would
do it more easily and of course; and their security
against this lessening danger would increase, since
the moral principle would gain additional strength
by exercise; both which things are implied in the
notion of virtuous habits. Thus, then, vicious in-
dulgence is not only criminal in itself, but also de-
praves the inward constitution and character. And
virtuous self-government is not only right in itself,
but also improves the inward constitution or charac-

 

 

281

ter; and may improve it to such a degree, that
though we should suppose it impossible for particu-
lar affections to be absolutely coincident with the
moral principle, and consequently should allow, that
such creatures as have been above supposed would
for ever remain defectible ; yet their danger of actu-
ally deviating from right may be almost infinitely
lessened, and they fully fortified against what remains
of it; if that may be called danger, against which
there is an adequate effectual security. But still,
this their higher perfection may continue to consist
in habits of virtue formed in a state of discipline,
and this their more complete security remain to pro-
ceed from them. And thus it is plainly conceivable,
that creatures without blemish, as they came out of
the hands of God, may be in danger of going wrong,
and so may stand in need of the security of virtuous
habits additional to the moral principle wrought into
their natures by him That which is the ground
of their danger, or their want of security, may be
considered as a deficiency in them, to which virtuous
habits are the natural supply And as they are
naturally capable of being raised and improved by
discipline, it may be a thing fit and requisite, that
they should be placed in circumstances with an eye to
it; in circumstances peculiarly fitted to be, to them,
a state of discipline for their improvement in virtue.

But how much more strongly must this hold with
respect to those who have corrupted their natures,
are fallen from their original rectitude, and whose
passions are become excessive by repeated violations
of their inward constitution ? Upright creatures may
want to be improved ; depravec creatures want to be

 
 

 

 

282

renewed. Education and discipline, which may be
in all degrees and sorts of gentleness and severity, is
expedient for those, but must be absolutely neces-
sary for these. For these, discipline, of the severer
sort too, and in the higher degrees of it, must be
necessary, in order to wear out vicious habits; to
recover their primitive strength of self-government,
which indulgence must have weakened; to repair, as
well as to raise into a habit, the moral principle, in
order to their arriving at a secure state of virtuous

happiness.

Now, whoever will consider the thing may clearly
see, that the present world is peculiarly fit to be a
state of discipline for this purpose, to such as will set
themselves to amend and improve. For, the various
temptations with which we are surrounded; our ex-
perience of the deceits of wickedness; having been

in many instances led wrong ourselves; the great
viciousness of the world; the infinite disorders con-
sequent upon it; our being made acquainted with
pain and sorrow, either from our own feeling of it,
or from the sight of it in others; these things, though
some of them may indeed produce wrong effects
upon our minds, yet when duly reflected upon, have
all of them a direct tendency to bring us to a set-
tled moderation and reasonableness of temper; the
contrary both to thoughtless levity, and also to that
unrestrained self-will, and violent bent to follow pre-
sent inclination, which may be observed in undisci-
plined minds. Such experience, as the present state
affords, of the frailty of our nature, of the boundless
extravagance of ungoverned passion, of the power
which an infinite Being has over us, by the various

 

 

i sb aks

283

capacities of misery which he has given us; in short
that kind and degree of experience which the presen:
state affords us, that the constitution of fature is
such, as to admit the possibility, the danger, and the
actual event of creatures losing their innocence and
happiness, and becoming vicious and wretched; hath
a tendency to give us a practical sense of things very
different from a mere speculative knowledge, that we
are liable to vice, and capable of misery. And who
knows, whether the security of creatures in the high-
est and most settled state of perfection, may not, in
part, arise from their having had such a sense of
things as this, formed, and habitually fixed within
them, in some state of probation? And passing
through the present world with that moral attention
which is necessary to the acting a right part in it,
may leave everlasting impressions of this sort upon
our minds. But to be a little more distinct: allure-
ments to what is wrong; difficulties in the discharge
of our duty; our not being able to act a uniform right
part without some thought and care; and the oppor-
tunities which we have, or imagine we have, of avoid-
ing what we dislike, or obtaining what we desire, by
unlawful means, when we either cannot do it at all
or at least not so easily, by lawful ones; these dings,
that is, the snares and temptations of vice, are whe
render the present world peculiarly fit to be a state
of discipline to those who will preserve their integrity :
because they render being upon our guard, resolu-
tion, and the denial of our passions, necessary in
order to that end. And the exercise of such parti-
cular recollection, intention of mind, and self-govern-
ment, in the practice of virtue, has, from the make

 
 

Ee

wR I REA FR

284

of our nature, a peculiar tendency to form habits of
virtue, as implying not only a real, but also a more
continued, and a more intense exercise of the virtu-
ous principle; or a more constant and a stronger ef-
fort of virtue exerted into act. Thus, suppose a
person to know himself to be in particular danger,
for some time, of doing any thing wrong, which yet
he fully resolves not to do; continued recollection,
and keeping upon his guard, in order to make good
his resolution, is a continued exerting of that act of
virtue in a high degree, which need have been, and
perhaps would have been, only instantaneous and
weak, had the temptation been so. It is indeed
ridiculous to assert, that self-denial is essential to
virtue and piety; but it would have been nearer the
truth, though not strictly the truth itself, to have
said, that it is essential to discipline and improvement,
For, though actions materially virtuous, which have
no sort of difficulty, but are perfectly agreeable to
our particular inclinations, may possibly be done only
from these particular inclinations, and so may not be
any exercise of the principle of virtue, that is, not
be virtuous actions at all; yet, on the contrary, they
may be an exercise of that principle, and, when they
are, they have a tendency to form and fix the habit
of virtue. But when the exercise of the virtuous
principle is more continued, oftener repeated, and
more intense, as it must be in circumstances of dan-
ger, temptation, and difficulty, of any kind and in
any degree, this tendency is increased proportionally,
and a more confirmed habit is the consequence.
This undoubtedly holds to a certain length, but
how far it may hold, I know not. Neither our in-

285

tellectual powers, nor our bodily strength, can be im-
proved beyond such a degree; and both may be over-
wrought. Possibly there may be somewhat analo-
gous to this, with respect to the moral character:
which is scarce worth considering. And I sieniioh
it only, lest it should come into some persons’
thoughts, not as an exception to the foregoing ob-
servations, which perhaps it is, but as a confutation
of them, which it is not. And there may be seve-
ral other exceptions. Observations of this kind
cannot be supposed to hold minutely, and in every
case. It is enough that they hold in general. And
these plainly hold so far, as that from them may be
seen distinctly, which is all that is intended by them
that the present world is peculiarly fit to be a sale
of discipline for our umprovement in virtue and
piety ; in the same sense as some sciences, by re-
quiring and engaging the attention, not to be sure
of such persons as will not, but of such as will, set
themselves to them, are fit to form the mind to habits
of attention.
: Indeed, the present state is so far from proving,
In event, a discipline of virtue to the generality x
men, that on the contrary, they seem to make it a
discipline of vice. And the viciousness of the world
1s, in different ways, the great temptation which ren-
ders it a state of virtuous discipline, in the degree it
is to good men. The whole end, and the whole oc-
casion, of mankind being placed in such a state as
the present, is not pretended to be accounted for.
That which appears amidst the general corruption
is, that there are some persons, who, having within
them the principle of amendment and recovery, at-

 
 

 

 

286

tend to and follow the notices of virtue and religion,
be they more clear or more obscure, which are afforded
them; and that the present world is, not only an ex-
ercise of virtue in these persons, but an exercise of it
in ways and degrees peculiarly apt to improve it; apt
to improve it, in some respects, even beyond what
would be, by the exercise of it required in a perfectly
virtuous society, or in a society of equally imperfect
virtue with themselves. But that the present world
does not actually become a state of moral discipline to
many, even to the generality, that is, that they do not
improve or grow better in it, cannot be urged as a
proof that it was not intended for moral discipline,
by any who at all observe the analogy of nature.
For, of the numerous seeds of vegetables and bodies
of animals, which are adapted and put in the way, to
improve to such a point or state of natural maturity
and perfection, we do not see perhaps that one in a
million actually does. Far the greatest part of them
decay before they are improved to it, and appear to
be absolutely destroyed. Yet no one, who does not
deny all final causes, will deny, that those seeds and
bodies which do attain to that point of maturity and
perfection, answer the end for which they were really
designed by nature; and therefore that nature de-
signed them for such perfection. And I cannot forbear
adding, though it is not to the present purpose, that
the appearance of such an amazing waste in nature,
with respect to these seeds and bodies, by foreign
causes, is to us as unaccountable, as, what is much
more terrible, the present and future ruin of $0 many
moral agents by themselves, that is, by vice.
Against this whole notion of moral discipline it

 

 

 

287

may be objected, in another way, that so far as a
course of behaviour, materially virtuous, proceeds
from hope and fear, so far it is only a discipline and
strengthening of self-love. But doing what God
commands, because he commands it, is obedience,
though it proceeds from hope or fear. And a course
of such obedience will form habits of jt: and a con-
stant regard to veracity, justice, and charity, may
form distinct habits of these particular virtues, and
will certainly form habits of self-government, and of
denying our inclinations, whenever veracity, justice,
or charity requires it. Nor is there any foundation
for this great nicety, with which some affect to dis-
tinguish in this case, in order to depreciate all reli-
gion proceeding from hope or fear. For veracity,
justice and charity, regard to God’s authority, and
to our own chief interest, are not only all three coin-
cident, but each of them is, in itself, a just and na-
tural motive or principle of action. And he who
begins a good life from any one of them, and perse-
veres in it, as he is already in some degree, so he
cannot fail of becoming more and more of that cha-
racter, which is correspondent to the constitution of
nature as moral, and to the relation which God
stands in to us as moral governor of it; nor conse-
quently, can he fail of obtaining that happiness,
which this constitution and relation necessarily sup-
pose connected with that character.

These several observations, concerning the active
principle of virtue and obedience to God’s commands,
are applicable to passive submission or resignation to
his will; which is another essential part of a right
character, connected with the former, and very much

 
 

 

288

in our power to form ourselves to. It may be ima-
gined, that nothing but afflictions can give occasion
for or require this virtue; that it can have no respect
to, nor be any way necessary to qualify for a State
of perfect happiness; but it is not experience which
can make us think thus. Prosperity itself, whilst
any thing supposed desirable is not ours, begets ex-
travagant and unbounded thoughts. Imagination is
altogether as much a source of discontent as any thing
in our external condition. It is indeed true that
there can be no scope for patience, when sorrow shall
be no more; but there may be need of a temper of
mind, which shall have been formed by patience.
For though self-love, considered merely as an active
principle leading us to pursue our chief interest, can-
not but be uniformly coincident with the principle of
obedience to God’s commands, our interest being
rightly understood ; because this obedience, and the
pursuit of our own chief interest, must be in every
case one and the same thing; yet it may be ques-
tioned, whether self-love, considered merely as the
desire of our own interest or happiness, can, from its
nature, be thus absolutely and uniformly coincident
with the will of God, any more than particular affec-
tions can ;* coincident in such sort, as not to be lia-
ble to be excited upon occasions and in degrees,
impossible to be gratified consistently with the con-
stitution of things, or the divine appointments. So
that habits of resignation may, upon this account, be
requisite for all creatures; habits, I say, which sig-
nify what is formed by use. However, in general,

 

* Page 260.

289

it is obvious, that both self-love and particular af-
fections in human creatures, considered only as pas-
sive feelings, distort and rend the mind, and there-
fore stand in need of discipline. Now, denial of
those particular affections, in a course of active vir-
tue and obedience to God’s will, has a tendency to
moderate them, and seems also to have a tendency
to habituate the mind to be easy and satisfied with
that degree of happiness which is allotted us, that is,
to moderate self-love. But the proper discipline for
resignation is affliction. For a right behaviour un-
der that trial, recollecting ourselves so as to consider
it in the view in which religion teaches us to consider
it, as from the hand of God; receiving it as what he
appoints, or thinks proper to permit, in his world,

and under his government, this will habituate the

mind to a dutiful submission; and such submission,

together with the active principle of obedience, make

up the temper and character in us which answers to

his sovereignty, and which absolutely belongs to the

condition of our being, as dependent creatures. Nor

can it be said, that this is only breaking the mind to

a submission to mere power; for mere power may be

accidental, and precarious, and usurped ; but it is

forming within ourselves the temper of resignation

to his rightful authority, who is, by nature, supreme
over all.

Upon the whole, such a character, and such qua-
lifications, are necessary for a mature state of life in
the present world, as nature alone does in nowise be-
stow, but has put it upon us in great part to acquire,
m our progress from one stage of life to another,
from childhood to mature age; put it upon us to ac-

N 17

 
 

 

" i RAI

290

quire them, by giving us capacities of doing it, and
by placing us, in the beginning of life, in a condition
fit for it. And this is a general analogy to our con-
dition in the present world, as in a state of moral dis-
cipline for another. It is in vain, then, to object
against the credibility of the present life being in-
tended for this purpose, that all the trouble and the
danger unavoidably accompanying such discipline
might have been saved us, by our being made at
once the creatures and the characters which we were
to be. For we experience, that what we were to be,
was to be the effect of what we would do ; and that
the general conduct of nature is, not to save us
trouble or danger, but to make us capable of going
through them, and to put it upon us to do so. Ac-
quirements of our own experience and habits, are the
natural supply to our deficiencies, and security against
our dangers; since it is plainly natural to set ourselves
to acquire the qualifications, as the external things
which we stand in need of. In particular, it is as
plainly a general law of nature, that we should, with
regard to our temporal interest, form and cultivate
practical principles within us, by attention, use, and
discipline, as any thing whatever is a natural law;
chiefly in the beginning of life, but also throughout
the whole course of it. And the alternative is left
to our choice, either to improve ourselves, and bet-
ter our condition, or, in default of such improvement,
to remain deficient and wretched. It is, therefore,
perfectly credible, from the analogy of nature, that
the same may be our case, with respect to the hap-
piness of a future state, and the qualifications neces-
sary for it.

 

291

; There is a third thing, whi i
38 3s [resent world Sr A 7d
1s a the tion fe fp
sons’ FR She mn % Jen
be sure, to an all-knowi bei 3 fis ae
pd ng being, but to his creation,
pan on Fa perhaps, be only a conse-
other senses. iy oe : o% poh Fag
: 3 y s not 1mpossib
To s Son and making manifest i is % fe
bi Ni ; pe real character is, may have respect
a : bi i and manners which we are
for the Author of ji Jey REE Wi
: S not appear to
ii Mo meas, of their being co , hoy
Apa a and of its being known to the
Bik ; i; y of example, that they are thus dis-
ns ig to enver upon any conjectural ac-
festation of ATE on ih fog Shs ai
joan contributes very muc
a: iii n a wh “
general course of nature respecting mankind
ion at present. I
in both these senses,
he preceding chapter,
nt; since by persons’
ters cannot but be ma-
well, improved.

to the carrying o

shall only add, that probation

as well as in that treated of or
1s implied in mora] governme
behaviour under it, their charac

nifested, and, if they behave

 
 

292

CHAP. VL

Of the Opinion of Necessity, considered as influ-
encing Practice.

TuarovcHOUT the foregoing Treatise it appears,
that the condition of mankind, considered as inhabi-
tants of this world only, and under the government
of God which we experience, is greatly analogous
to our condition, as designed for another world, or
under that farther government which religion Hache
us. If, therefore, any assert, asa fatalist pat, Bist
the opinion of universal necessity is reconcileab is
the former, there immediately arises a question in the
way of analogy; whether he must not also own it to
be reconcileable with the latter, that is, with the >
tem of religion itself, and the proof of it. ] e
reader, then, will observe, that the question now be-
fore us is not absolute, whether the opinion of fate be
reconcileable with religion; but hypothetical, oe

upon supposition of its being reconcileable wit : .
constitution of nature, it be not reconcileable ms
religion also ? or, what pretence a fatalist—not ot at
persons, but a fatalist—has to conclude, from j&
opinion, that there can be no such thing as religion !
And as the puzzle and obscurity, which must un-
avoidably arise from arguing upon so absurd a suppo-
sition as that of universal necessity, will, I fear, eas-
ily be seen, it will, I hope, as easily be excused. :
But, since it has been all along taken for gra y
as a thing proved, that there is an intelligent Author

 

 

293

of Nature, or natural Governor of the world; and
since an objection may be made against the proof of
this, from the opinion of universal necessity, as it
may be supposed that such necessity will itself ac-
count for the origin and preservation of all things, it
is requisite that this objection be distinctly answered;
or that it be shown, that a fatality, supposed consis-
tent with what we certainly experience, does not de-
stroy the proof of an intelligent Author and Gover-
nor of Nature, before we proceed to consider, whe-
ther it destroys the proof of a moral governor of it,
or of our being in a state of religion.
Now, when it is said by a fatalist, that the whole
constitution of nature, and the actions of men, that
every thing, and every mode and circumstance of
every thing, is necessary, and could not possibly
have been otherwise, it is to be observed, that this
necessity does not exclude deliberation, choice, pre-
ference, and acting from certain principles, and to
certain ends; because all this is matter of undoubted
experience, acknowledged by all, and what every man
may, every moment, be conscious of. And from
hence it follows, that necessity, alone and of itself,
is in no sort an account of the constitution of nature,
and how things came 0 be and to continue as they
are; but only an account of this circumstance relat-
ing to their origin and continuance, that they could
not have been otherwise than they are and have been.
The assertion, that every thing is by necessity of na-
ture, is not an answer to the question, Whether the
world came into being as it is, by an intelligent
Agent forming it thus, or not, but to quite another
question, Whether it came into being as it is, in that

 
am CHEN RR

CET

EME ST

 

294

way and manner which we call necessarily, or in that
way and manner which we call freely. For, suppose
farther, that one, who was a fatalist, and one, who
kept to his natural sense of things, and believed him-
self a free agent, were disputing together, and vindi-
cating their respective opinions, and they should hap-
pen to instance in a house, they would agree that it was
built by an architect. Their difference concerning ne-
cessity and freedom, would occasion no difference of
judgment concerning this, but only concerning another
matter, whether the architect built it necessarily or
freely. Suppose, then, they should proceed to inquire
concerning the constitution of nature: in a lax way of
speaking, one of them might say, it was by necessity,
and the otherby freedom; but if they had any meaning
to their words, as the latter must mean a free agent,
so the former must at length be reduced to mean an
agent, whether he would say one or more, acting by
necessity; for abstract notions can do nothing. In-
deed, we ascribe to God a necessary existence, un-
caused by any agent. For we find within ourselves
the idea of infinity, that is, immensity, and eternity,
impossible, even in imagination, to be removed out
of being. We seem to discern, intuitively, that
there must, and cannot but be, somewhat, external
to ourselves, answering this idea, or the archetype of
it. And from hence (for this abstract, as much as
any other, implies a concrete) we conclude, that there
is, and cannot but be, an infinite and immense eter-
nal Being existing, prior to all design contributing
to his existence, and exclusive of it. And from the
scantiness of language, a manner of speaking has been
introduced, that necessity is the foundation, the rea-

 

Beaman.

295

son, the account of the existence of God. But it is
not alleged, nor cannot be at all intended, that every
thing exists as it does by this kind of necessity, a
necessity antecedent in nature to design; it cannot,
I say, be meant, that every thing exists as it does,
by this kind of necessity, upon several accounts; and
particularly, because it is admitted that design, in the
actions of men, contributes to many alterations in na-
ture. For, if any deny this, I shall not pretend to
reason with them.

From these things it follows, Ist, That when a
fatalist asserts that every thing is by necessity, he
must mean, by an agent acting necessarily : he must,
I say, mean this; for I am very sensible he would
not choose to mean it: And, 2dly, That the neces-
sity, by which such an agent is supposed to act, does
not exclude intelligence and design. So that, were
the system of fatality admitted, it would just as much
account for the formation of the world, as for the
structure of a house, and no more. Necessity as
much requires and supposes a necessary agent, as
freedom requires and supposes a free agent to be the
former of the world. And the appearances of design
and of final causes in the constitution of nature, as
really prove this acting agent to be an intelligent de-
signer, or to act from choice, upon the scheme of ne-
cessity, supposed possible, as upon that of freedom.

It appearing thus, that the notion of necessity does
not destroy the proof, that there is an intelligent
Author of nature and natural Governor of the
world, the present question, which the analogy be-
fore-mentioned * suggests, and which, I think, it

 

 

—

* Page 292.

 
 

 

296

will answer, is this: Whether the opinion of ne.
cessity, supposed consistent with possibility, with the
constitution of the world, and the natural govern-
ment which we experienced exercised over it, de-
stroys all reasonable ground of belief, that we are
in a state of religion; or whether that opinion be
reconcileable with religion, with the system and the
proof of it.

Suppose, then, a fatalist to educate any one, from
his youth up, in his own principles; that the child
should reason upon them, and conclude, that since
he cannot possibly behave otherwise than he does.
he is not a subject of blame or commendation, nor
can deserve to be rewarded or punished; imagine
him to eradicate the very perceptions of blame and
commendation out of his mind by means of this sys-
tem; to form his temper, and character, and beha-
viour to it; and from it to judge of the treatment he
was to expect, say, from reasonable men, upon his
coming abroad into the world ; as the fatalist judges
from this system, what he is to expect from the Au-
thor of nature, and with regard to a future state ;
I cannot forbear stopping here to ask, whether any
one of common sense would think fit, that a child
should be put upon these speculations, and be left
to apply them to practice? And a man has little
pretence to reason, who is not sensible that we are
all children in speculations of this kind. However,
the child would doubtless be highly delighted to find
himself freed from the restraints of fear and shame,
with which his playfellows were fettered and embar-
rassed ; and highly conceited in his superior know-
ledge, so far beyond his years. But conceit and
vanity would be the least bad part of the influence

 

 

 

 

297

which these principles must have, when thus reason-
ed and acted upon, during the course of his educa-
tion. He must either be allowed to go on, and be
the plague of all about him, and himself too, even
to his own destruction, or else correction must he
continually made use of, to supply the want of those
natural perceptions of blame and commendation
which we have supposed to be removed, and to give
him a practical impression of what he had reasoned
himself out of the belief of, that he was, in fact,
an accountable child, and to be punished for doing
what he was forbid. It is therefore in reality Hig
possible, but that the correction which he must meet

with, in the course of his education, must convince

him, that if the scheme he was instructed in were
not false, yet that he reasoned inconclusively upon
it, and, somehow or other, misapplied it to practice

and common life; as what the fatalist experiences of
the conduct of Providence at present ought, in all
reason, to convince him, that his scheme is misap-
plied, when applied to the subject of religion.* But
supposing the child’s temper could remain still
formed to the system, and his expectation of the
treatment he was to have in the world be regulated
: It, 50 as to expect that no reasonable than would
ame or punish him for i
because he could not help A : : So “
au e ¢ g 1t; upon this sup-
position, it is manifest he would, upon his coming
abroad into the world, be insupportable to societ
and the treatment which he would receive from it
would render it so to him; and he could not fail of
doing somewhat very soon, for which he would be

* Page 289.
N3

 
 

 

 

 

208

delivered over into the hands of civil justice. And

thus, in the end, he would be convinced of the ob-

ligations he was under to his wise instructor. Or

suppose this scheme of fatality, in any other way,

applied to practice, such practical application of it

will be found equally absurd, equally fallacious, in

a practical sense: For instance, that if a man be des-

tined to live such a time, he shall live to it, though

he take no care of his own preservation; or if he be

destined to die before that time, no care can prevent it;

therefore all care about preserving one’s life is to be
neglected : which is the fallacy instanced in by the
ancients. But now, on the contrary, none of these
practical absurdities can be drawn, from reasoning
upon the supposition, that we are free; but all such
reasoning, with regard to the common affairs of life,
is justified by experience. And, therefore, though
it were admitted that this opinion of necessity were
speculatively true, yet, with regard to practice, it is
as if it were false, so far as our experience reaches ;
that is, to the whole of our present life. I'or, the
constitution of the present world, and the condition
in which we are actually placed, is as if we were free.
And it may perhaps justly be concluded, that since
the whole process of action, through every step of
it, suspense, deliberation, inclining one way, deter-
mining, and at last doing as we determine, is as if
we were free, therefore we are so. But the thing
here insisted upon is, that under the present natural
government of the world, we find we are treated and
dealt with as if we were free, prior to all considera-
tion whether we are or not. Were this opinion, there-
fore, of necessity, admitted to be ever so true, yet
such is in fact our condition and the natural course

 

FR

299

of things, that, whenever we apply it te life and
practice, this application always misleads us, and
cannot but mislead us, in a most dreadful manner,
with regard to our present interest. And how can
people think themselves so very secure then, that
the same application of the same opinion may not
mislead them also, in some analogous manner, with
respect to a future, a more general, and more im-
portant interest ? For, religion being a practical sub-
ject, and the analogy of nature showing us, that we
have not faculties to apply this opinion, were it a
true one, to practical subjects; whenever we do ap-
ply it to the subject of religion, and thence conclude,
that we are free from its obligations, it is plain this
conclusion cannot be depended upon. There will
still remain just reason to think, whatever appear-
ances are, that we deceive ourselves; in somewhat
of a like manner as when people fancy they can
draw contradictory conclusions from the idea of in-
finity.

From these things together, the attentive reader
will see, it follows, that if, upon supposition of free-
dom, the evidence of religion be conclusive, it re-
mains $0, upon supposition of necessity; because the
notion of necessity is not applicable to practical sub-
jects; that is, with respect to them, is as if it were
not true. Nor does this contain any reflection upon
reason, but only upon what is unreasonable. For
to pretend to act upon reason, in opposition to pthc
tical principles which the Author of our nature gave
us to act upon, and to pretend to apply our reason
to subjects, with regard to which our own short
views, and even our experience, will show us it cane

 
 

 

 

300

not be depended upon,—and such, at best, the sub-
ject of necessity must be,—this is vanity, conceit,
and unreasonableness.

But this is not all. For we find within ourselves
a will, and are conscious of a character. Now, if
this, in us, be reconcilcable with fate, it is reconcile-
able with it in the Author of nature. And, besides,
natural government and final causes imply a charac-
ter and a will in the Governor and Designer ;* a will
concerning the creatures whom he governs. The
Author of nature, then, being certainly of some
character or other, notwithstanding necessity, it is
evident this necessity is as reconcileable with the
particular character of benevolence, veracity, and
justice in him, which attributes are the foundation
of religion, as with any other character; since we
find this necessity no more hinders men from being
benevolent than cruel; true, than faithless; just,
than unjust; or, if the fatalist pleases, what we call
unjust. For it is said, indeed, that what, upon sup-
position of freedom, would be just punishment, upon
supposition of necessity, becomes manifestly unjust ;
because it is punishment inflicted for doing that
which persons could not avoid doing. As if the
necessity, which is supposed to destroy the injustice
of murder, for instance, would not also destroy the
injustice of punishing it. However, as little to the
purpose as this objection is in itself, it is very much

 

* By will and character is meant that, which, in speaking of
men, we should express, not only by these words, but also by
the words temper, taste, dispositions, practical principles ; that whole
frame of mind, from whence we act in one manner rather than an-
other.

301

to the purpose to observe from it, how the notions
of justice and Injustice remain, even whilst we en-
deavour-to suppose them removed ; how they force
themselves upon the mind, even whilst we are mak-
ing suppositions destructive of them: for there is not,
perhaps, a man in the world, but would be ready to
make this objection at first thought.

But though it is most evident, that universal ne-
cessity, if it be reconcileable with any thing, is re-
concileable with that character in the Author of na-
ture, which is the foundation of religion; « yet,
does it not plainly destroy the proof, that he is of
that character, and consequently the proof of reli-
gion?” By no means. For we find that happiness
and misery are not our fate in any such sense as not
to be the consequences of our behaviour, but that
they are the consequences of it.* We find God
exercises the same kind of government over us, with
that which a father exercises over his children, and
a civil magistrate over his subjects. Now, whatever
becomes of abstract questions concerning liberty and
necessity, it evidently appears to us, that veracity
and justice must be the natural rule and measure of
exercising this authority, or government, to a Being,
who can have no competitions, or interfering of inter-
ests, with his creatures and his subjects.

But as the doctrine of liberty, though we expe-
rience its truth, may be perplexed with difficulties
which run up into the most abstruse of all specula-
tions, and as the opinion of necessity seems to be the
very basis upon which infidelity grounds itself, it

 

* Chap. II.

 
 

 

 

302

may be of some use to offer a more particular proof
of the obligations of religion, which may distinctly
be shown not to be destroyed by this opinion.

The proof, from final causes, of an intelligent
Author of nature, is not affected by the opinion of
necessity ; supposing necessity a thing possible in it-
self, and reconcileable with the constitution of things. *
And it is a matter of fact, independent on this or
any other speculation, that he governs the world by
the method of rewards and punishments;+ and also
that he hath given us a moral faculty, by which we
distinguish between actions, and approve some as
virtuous and of good desert, and disapprove others
as vicious and of ill desert.f Now, this moral dis-
cernment implies, in the notion of it, a rule of action,
and a rule of a very peculiar kind; for it carries in
it authority and a right of direction; authority in
such a sense, as that we cannot depart from it with-
out being self-condemned.§ And that the dictates
of this moral faculty, which are by nature a rule to
us, are moreover the laws of God, laws in a sense
including sanctions, may be thus proved. Con-
sciousness of a rule or guide of action, in creatures
who are capable of considering it as given them by
their Maker, not only raises immediately a sense of
duty, but also a sense of security in following it, and
of danger in deviating from it. A direction of the
Author of nature, given to creatures capable of look-
ing upon it as such, is plainly a command from him:
and a command from him necessarily includes in it,

 

* Page 292, &c. + Chap. IIL
{ Dissertation II. § Sermon II. at the Rolls.

303

at least, an implicit promise in case of obedience, or
threatening in case of disobedience. But then the
sense or perception of good and ill desert,* which is
contained in the moral discernment, renders the sanc-
tion explicit, and makes it appear, as one may say,
expressed. For, since his method of government is
to reward and punish actions, his having annexed to
some actions an inseparable sense of good desert, and
to others of ill, this surely amounts to declaring upon
whom his punishments shall be inflicted, and his re-
wards be bestowed. For he must have given us this
discernment and sense of things, as a presentiment
of what is to be hereafter; that is, by way of infor-
mation before-hand, what we are finally to expect in
this world. There is, then, most evident ground to
think, that the government of God, upon the whole,
will be found to correspond to the nature which he
has given us, and that, in the upshot and issue of
things, happiness and misery shall, in fact and event,
be made to follow virtue and vice respectively ; as he
has already, in so peculiar a manner, associated the
ideas of them in our minds. And from hence might
easily be deduced the obligations of religious wor-
ship, were it only to be considered as a means of
preserving upon our minds a sense of this moral go-
vernment of God, and securing our obedience to it;
which yet is an extremely imperfect view of that most
important duty.

Now, I say, no objection from necessity can lie
against this general proof of religion : none against
the proposition reasoned upon, that we have such a

 

# Dissertation II.

 
 

 

 

 

304

moral faculty and discernment; because this is a
mere matter of fact, a thing of experience, that hu-
man kind is thus constituted : none against the con-
clusion; because it is immediate, and wholly from
this fact. For the conclusion that God will finally
reward the righteous and punish the wicked, is not
here drawn, from its appearing to us fit* that Ae
should, but from its appearing, that he has told us /e
will. And this he hath certainly told us, in the
promise and threatening, which, it hath been ob-
served, the notion of a command implies, and the
sense of good and ill desert, which he has given us,
more distinctly expresses. And this reasoning from
fact is confirmed, and, in some degree, even verified,
by other facts; by the natural tendencies of virtue
and of vice;t and by this, that God, in the natural
course of his providence, punishes vicious actions,
as ‘mischievous to society, and also vicious actions,
as such, in the strictest sense. So that the gene-

 

* However I am far from intending to deny, that the will of
God is determined by what is fit, by the right and reason of the
case ; though one chooses to decline matters of such abstract
speculation, and to speak with caution when one does speak of
them. But if it be intelligible to say, that it is fit and reasonable
Jor every one to consult his own happiness, then fitness of action, or
the right and reason of the case, is an intelligible manner of speak-
ing. And it seems as inconceivable, to suppose God to approve
one course of action, or one end, preferably to another, which yet
his acting at all from design implies that he does, without sup-
posing somewhat prior in that end, to be the ground of the pre-
ference ; as to suppose him to discern an abstract proposition to
be true, without supposing somewhat prior to it to be the ground
of the discernment. It doth not, therefore, appear, that moral
right is any more relative to perception than abstract truth is; or
that it is any more improper to speak of the fitness and rightness
of actions and ends, as founded in the nature of things, than to
speak of abstract truth as thus founded.

t+ Page 238. 1 Page 230, &c.

 

305

ral proof of religion is unanswerably real, even upon
the wild supposition which we are arguing upon.

It must likewise be observed farther, that natural
religion hath, besides this, an external evidence,
which the doctrine of necessity, if it could be true,
would not affect. For, suppose a person, by the
observations and reasoning above, or by any other,
convinced of the truth of religion ; that there is a
God, who made the world, who is the moral Gover-
nor and Judge of mankind, and will, upon the whole,
deal with every one according to his works; I say,
suppose a person convinced of this by reason, but
to know nothing at all of antiquity, or the present
state of mankind, it would be natural for such a one
to be inquisitive, what was the history of this system
of doctrine; at what time, and in what manner, it
came first into the world; and whether it were be-
lieved by any considerable part of it. And were he
upon inquiry to find, that a particular person, in a
late age, first of all proposed it as a deduction of
reason, and that mankind were before wholly igno-
rant of it; then, though its evidence from reason
would remain, there would be no additional proba-
bility of its truth, from the account of its discovery.
But, instead of this being the fact of the case, on
the contrary, he would find what could not but af-
ford him a very strong confirmation of its truth :
First, That somewhat of this system, with more or
fewer additions and alterations, hath been professed
in all ages and countries of which we have any cer-
tain information relating to this matter. Secondly,
That it is certain historical fact, so far as we can
trace things up, that this whole system of belief,

 
 

 

 

 

 

306

that there is one God, the Creator and moral Go-
vernor of the world, and that mankind is in a state
of religion, was received in the first ages. And,
thirdly, That as there is no hint or intimation in
history, that this system was first reasoned out; so
there is express historical or traditional evidence, as
ancient as history, that it was taught first by reve-
lation. Now, these things must be allowed to be
of great weight. The first of them, general con-
sent, shows this system to be conformable to the
common sense of mankind. The second, namely,
that religion was believed in the first ages of the
world, especially as it does not appear that there
were then any superstitious or false additions to it,
cannot but be a farther confirmation of its truth.
For it is a proof of this alternative; either that it
came into the world by revelation, or that it is natu-
ral, obvious, and forces itself upon the mind. The
former of these is the conclusion of learned men.
And whoever will consider, how unapt for specula-
tion rude and uncultivated minds are, will, perhaps
from hence alone, be strongly inclined to believe it
the truth. And as it is shown in the second part*®
of this Treatise, that there is nothing of such pe-
culiar presumption against a revelation in the be-
ginning of the world, as there is supposed to be
against subsequent ones; a sceptic could not, I
think, give any account, which would appear more
probable even to himself, of the early pretences to
revelation, than by supposing some real original one,
from whence they were copied. And the third

 

* Chap. 2.

 

307

thing above-mentioned, that there is express histo-
rical or traditional evidence, as ancient as history
of the system of religion being taught mankind by
revelation; this must be admitted as some degree of
real proof, that it was so taught. For why should
not the most ancient tradition be admitted as some
additional proof of a fact, against which there is no
presumption ? And this proof is mentioned here,
because it has its weight to show, that religion came
into the world by revelation, prior to all considera-
tion, of the proper authority of any book supposed
to contain it; and even prior to all consideration,
whether the revelation itself be uncorruptly handed
down and related, or mixed and darkened with fables.
Thus the historical account which we have, of the
origin of religion, taking in all circumstances, is a
real confirmation of its truth, no way affected by the
opinion of necessity. And the external evidence,
even of natural religion, is by no means inconsider-
able.

But it is carefully to be observed, and ought to
be recollected after all proofs of virtue and religion,
which are only general, that as speculative reason
may be neglected, prejudiced, and deceived, so
also may our moral understanding be impaired
and perverted, and the dictates of it not impar-
tially attended to. This, indeed, proves nothing
ugainst the reality of our speculative or practical
faculties of perception ; against their being intended
by nature to inform us in the theory of things, and
instruct us how we are to behave, and what we are
to expect, in consequence of our behaviour. Yet
our liableness, in the degree we are liable, to preju-

 
 

 

 

 

 

308

dice and perversion, is a most serious admonition to
us to be upon our guard, with respect to what is of
such consequence, as our determinations concerning
virtue and religion; and particularly, not to take
custom, and fashion, and slight notions of honour,
or imaginations of present ease, use, and conveni-
ence to mankind, for the only moral rule.*

The foregoing observations, drawn from the na-
ture of the thing, and the history of religion,
amount, when taken together, to a real practical
proof of it, not to be confuted; such a proof as,
considering the infinite importance of the thing, I
apprehend, would be admitted fully sufficient, in
reason, to influence the actions of men, who act
upon thought and reflection; if it were admitted
that there is no proof of the contrary. But it may
be said, ¢ There are many probabilities, which can-
not indeed be confuted; that is, shown to be no
probabilities, and yet may be overbalanced by greater
probabilities on the other side; much more by de-
monstration. And there is no occasion to object
against particular arguments alleged for an opinion,
when the opinion itself may be clearly shown to be
false, without meddling with such arguments at all,
but leaving them just as they are.+ Now, the
method of government by rewards and punishments,
and especially rewarding and punishing good and ill
desert, as such, respectively, must go upon suppo-
sition, that we are free, and not necessary agents.
And it is incredible, that the Author of nature
should govern us upon a supposition as true, which

 

* Dissertation 2. + Page 171, 180.

 

309

he knows to be false; and therefore absurd to think
he will reward or punish us for our actions here-
after; especially that he will do it under the notion,
that they are of good or ill desert.” Here, then,
the matter is brought to a point. And the answer
to all this is full, and not to be evaded: that the
whole constitution and course of things, the whole
analogy of providence shows, beyond possibility of
doubt, that the conclusion from this reasoning is
false, wherever the fallacy lies. The doctrine of
freedom, indeed, clearly shows where—in supposing
ourselves necessary, when in truth we are free
agents. But, upon the supposition of necessity,
the fallacy lies in taking for granted, that it is in-
credible necessary agents should be rewarded and
punished. But, that, somehow or other, the con-
clusion now mentioned is false, is most certain.
For it is fact, that God does govern even brute
creatures by the method of rewards and punish-
ments, in the natural course of things. And men
are rewarded and punished for their actions, punish-
ed for actions mischievous to society as being so,
punished for vicious actions as such, by the natural
instrumentality of each other, under the present
conduct of Providence. Nay, even the affection
of gratitude, and the passion of resentment, and
the rewards and punishments following from them,
which in general are to be considered as natural,
that is, from the Author of nature: these rewards
and punishments, being naturally* annexed to ac-
tions considered as implying good intention and good

 

# Sermon 8th, at the Rolls.

 
 

 

 

310

desert, ill intention and ill desert; these natural re-
wards and punishments, I say, are as much a con-
tradiction to the conclusion above, and show its
falsehood, as a more exact and complete rewarding
and punishing of good and ill desert, as such. So
that, if it be incredible that necessary agents should
be thus rewarded and punished, then men are not
necessary, but free; since it is matter of fact that
they are thus rewarded and punished." But if, on
the contrary, which is the supposition we have been
arguing upon, it be insisted, that men are necessary
agents, then there is nothing incredible in the far-
ther supposition of necessary agents being thus re-
warded and punished; since we ourselves are thus
dealt with.

From the whole, therefore, it must follow, that
a necessity supposed possible, and reconcileable with
the constitution of things, does in no sort prove,
that the Author of nature will not, nor destroy the
proof that he will, finally, and upon the whole, in
his eternal government, render his creatures happy
or miserable, by some means or other, as they be-
have well or ill. Or, to express this conclusion in
words conformable to the title of the chapter, the
analogy of nature shows us, that the opinion of ne-
cessity, considered as practical, is false. And if
necessity, upon the supposition above-mentioned,
doth not destroy the proof of natural religion, it
evidently makes no alteration in the proof of re-
vealed.

From these things, likewise, we may learn in
what sense to understand that general assertion,
that the opinion of necessity is essentially destruc-

 

311

tive of all religion. First, In a practical sense;

that by this notion atheistical men pretend to satisfy
and encourage themselves in vice, and justify to
others their disregard to all religion. And, secondly
In the strictest sense; that it is a contradiction to
the whole constitution of nature, and to what we
may every moment experience in ourselves, and so
overturns every thing. But by no means is this
assertion to be understood, as if necessity, suppos-
ing it could possibly be reconciled with the consti-
tution of things, and with what we experience, were
not also reconcileable with religion; for upon this
supposition it demonstrably is so.

 
 

 

 

laa ae Vn AL

CHAP. VIL

Of the Government of God, considered as a Scheme,
or Constitution, imperfectly comprehended.

THOUGH it be, as it cannot but be, acknowledged,
that the analogy of nature gives a strong credibility
to the general doctrine of religion, and to the several
particular things contained in it, considered as so
many matters of fact; and likewise that it shows this
credibility not to be destroyed by any notions of ne-
cessity ; yet still, objections may be insisted upon
against the wisdom, equity, and goodness of the
divine government, implied in the notion of religion,
and against the method by which this government is
conducted, to which objections analogy can be no
direct answer. For the credibility, or the certain
truth, of a matter of fact, does not immediately prove
any thing concerning the wisdom or goodness of it;
and analqggy can do no more, immediately or directly,
than show such and such things to be true or cre-
dible, considered only as matters of fact. But still,
if, upon supposition of a moral constitution of nature

and a moral government over it, analogy suggests
and makes it credible, that this government must be
a scheme, system or constitution of government, as
distinguished from a number of single unconnected
acts of distributive justice and goodness; and like-
wise that it must be a scheme, so imperfectly com-
prehended, and of such a sort in other respects, as
to afford a direct general answer to all objections

313

against the justice and goodness of it; then anal

is, remotely, of great service in answering those “

juan on I Toggesting the answer, and show-
e one.

Now, this, upon inquiry, will be found to be the
case. For, first, Upon supposition that God exer-
cases a moral government over the world, the a
logy of his natural government suggests oe ke
it credible, that his moral POR gs
scheme quite beyond our comprehension; and on
affords a general answer to all objections , ainst i
justice and goodness of it. And, second! > A :
distinct observation of some particular i s mote
tained in God’s scheme of natural a] Se
like things being supposed, by analogy, to be oo” .
tained in his moral government, will fhe show h >
little weight is to be laid upon these objections. oy

I. Upon supposition that God exercises a moral
government over the world, the analogy of his natu-
ral government suggests and makes it credible, that
his moral government must be a scheme vite b
yond our comprehension : and this affords 3 a
answer to all objections against the justice oe
ness of it. ; It is most obvious, analogy ee it
highly credible, that upon suppositi .
nil) pposition of a moral

must be a scheme,—for the world
fa the whole natural government of it, appears to
8 Mp be a scheme, system, or constitution,

8 parts correspond to each other, and to a whole

Site] 75 Say work of art, or as any particular do

constitution and government. In this
great scheme of the natural world, individuals have
various peculiar relations to other individuals of their

0 17

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

314

own species. And whole species are, we find, vari-
ously related to other species, upon this earth. Nor
do we know how much farther these kinds of rela-
tions may extend. And as there is not any action, or
natural event, which we are acquainted with, so single
and unconnected as not to have a respect to some other
actions and events; so, possibly, each of them when
it has not an immediate, may yet have a remote
natural relation to other actions and events, much
beyond the compass of this present world. There
seems, indeed, nothing from whence we can so much
as make a conjecture, whether all creatures, actions,
and events, throughout the whole of nature, have re-
lations to each other. But, as it is obvious that all
events have future unknown consequences, so, if we
trace any, as far as we can go, into what is con-
nected with it, we shall find, that if such event were
not connected with somewhat farther in nature un-
known to us, somewhat both past and present, such
event could not possibly have been at all. Nor can
we give the whole account of any one thing what-
ever; of all its causes, ends, and necessary adjuncts;
those adjuncts, I mean, without which it could not
have been. By this most astonishing connection,
these reciprocal correspondencies and mutual rela-
tions, every thing which we see in the course of na-
ture, is actually brought about. And things, seem-
ingly the most insignificant imaginable, are perpe-
tually observed to be necessary conditions to other
things of the greatest importance; so that any one
thing whatever may, for aught we know to the con-
trary, be a necessary condition to any other. The
natural world, then, and natural government of it,

315

being such an incomprehensible scheme ; SO incom-
prehensible, that a man must really, in the literal
sense, know nothing at all, who is not sensible of
his ignorance in it: this immediately suggests, and
strongly shows the credibility, that the moral world
and government of it may be so too. Indeed, the na-
tural and moral constitution and government of the
world are so connected, as to make up together but
one scheme: and it is highly probable, that the first
is formed and carried on merely in subserviency to
the latter, as the vegetable world is for the anj-
mal, and organized bodies for minds. But the
thing intended here is, without inquiring how far
the administration of the natural world is subordinate
to that of the moral, only to observe the credibility
that one should be analogous or similar to the ollie
that, therefore, every act of divine justice and good-
ness may be supposed to look much beyond itself
and its immediate object ; may have some reference
to other parts of God’s moral administration, and to
a general moral plan; and that every circumstance of
this his moral government may be adjusted before-
hand with a view to the whole of it. Thus, for ex-
ample : the determined length of time, and the de-
grees and ways in which virtue is to remain in a state
of warfare and discipline, and in which wickedness
is permitted to have its progress; the times appointed
for the execution of justice; the appointed instru-
ments of it; the kinds of rewards and punishments
and the manners of their distribution ; all particule
Instances of divine justice and goodness, and every
circumstance of them, may have such respects to
each other, as to make up altogether a whole, con-
02

 
 

 

 

SPREE

AEE et i AR

316

nected and related in all its parts; a scheme, or sys-
tem, which is as properly one as the natural world
is, and of the like kind. And supposing this to be
the case, it is most evident that we are not compe-
tent judges of this scheme, from the small parts of
it which come within our view in the present life;
and therefore no objections against any of these parts
can be insisted upon by reasonable men.

This our ignorance, and the consequence here
drawn from it, are universally acknowledged upon
other occasions; and, though scarce denied, yet are
universally forgot, when persons come to argue
against religion. And it is not perhaps easy, even
for the most reasonable men, always to bear in mind
the degree of our ignorance, and make due allowances
for it. Upon these accounts, it may not be useless
to go on a little farther, in order to show more dis-
tinctly, how just an answer our ignorance is, to ob-
jections against the scheme of Providence. Suppose,
then, a person boldly to assert, that the things com-
plained of, the origin and continuance of evil, might
easily have been prevented by repeated interposi-
tions;* interpositions so guarded and circumstanced,
as would preclude all mischief arising from them: or,
if this were impracticable, that a scheme of govern-
ment is itself an imperfection; since more good might
have been produced without any scheme, system, or
constitution at all, by continued single unrelated acts
of distributive justice and goodness; because these
would have occasioned no irregularities. And far-
ther than this, it is presumed, the objections will

 

* See pages 320, 321.

 

317

not be carried. Yet the answer is obvious ; that
were these assertions true, still the dbservitions
above, concerning our ignorance in the scheme of
divine government, and the consequence drawn from
it, would hold in great measure, enough to vindicate
religion against all objections from the disorders of
the present state. Were these assertions true, yet
the government of the world might be just and good
notwithstanding : for, at the most, they would infer
nothing more, than that it might have been better.
But, indeed, they are mere arbitrary assertions; no
man being sufficiently acquainted with the possibilities
of things, to bring any proof of them to the lowest
degree of probability. For, however possible what
is asserted may seem, yet many instances may be
alleged, in things much less out of our reach, of
suppositions absolutely impossible, and reducible to
the most palpable self-contradictions, which not every
one by any means would perceive to be such, nor
perhaps any one at first sight suspect. From these
things it is easy to see distinctly, how our ignorance,
as it is the common, is really a satisfactory answer to
meme St Ge Juin id goin ot
i ; ’ plating any one pro-
vidential dispensation, which had no relation to any
others, should object, that he discerned in it a disre-
gard to justice, or a deficiency of goodness, nothing
would be less an answer to such objection, than our
ignorance in other parts of Providence, or in the
possibilities of things, no way related to what he was
contemplating. But when we know not but the
parts objected against may be relative to other parts
unknown to us, and when we are unacquainted with

 
 

 

 

318

what is, in the nature of the thing, practicable in the
case before us, then our ignorance is a satisfactory
answer; because some unknown relation, or some un-
known impossibility, may render what is objected
against just and good; nay, good in the highest
practicable degree.

II. And how little weight is to be laid upon such
objections will further appear, by a more distinct ob-
servation of some particular things contained in the
natural government of God, the like to which may
be supposed, from analogy, to be contained in his
moral government.

1st, As, in the scheme of the natural world, no
ends appear to be accomplished without means ; so we
find that means very undesirable often conduce to
bring about ends, in such a measure desirable, as
greatly to overbalance the disagreeableness of the
means. And in cases where such means are condu-
cive to such ends, it is not reason, but experience,
which shows us that they are thus conducive. Ex-
perience also shows many means to be conducive and
necessary to accomplish ends, which means, before
experience, we should have thought would have had
even a contrary tendency. Now, from these obser-
vations relating to the natural scheme of the world,
the moral being supposed analogous to it, arises a
great credibility, that the putting our misery in each
others power to the degree it is, and making men
liable to vice, to the degree we are; and in general,
that those things which are objected against the moral

scheme of Providence, may be, upon the whole,
friendly and assistant to virtue, and productive of an
over-balance of happiness; that is, the things ob-

319

jected against, may be means by which an overbai-
ance of good, will, in the end, be found produced.
And, from the same observations, it appears to be no
presumption against this, that we do not, if indeed
we do not, see those means to have any such ten-
dency, or that they seem to us to have a contrar
one. Thus, those things which we call irregulari-
ties, may not be so at all; because they may be
means of accomplishing wise and good ends more con-
siderable. And it may be added, as above, that
they may also be the only means by which these wise
and good ends are capable of being accomplished.
After these observations it may be proper to add,
in order to obviate an absurd and wicked conclusion
from any of them, that though the constitution of
our nature, from whence we are capable of vice and
misery, may, as it undoubtedly does, contribute to
the perfection and happiness of the world ; and though
the actual permission of evil may be beneficial to it,
(that is, it would have been more mischievous, not
that a wicked person had himself abstained from his
own wickedness, but that any one had forcibly pre-
vented it, than that it was permitted) ; yet, notwith-
standing, it might have been much better for the
world if this very evil had never been done. Nay,
it is most clearly conceivable, that the very commis-
sion of wickedness may be beneficial to the world,
and yet that it would be infinitely more beneficial for
men to refrain from it. For thus, in the wise and
good constitution of the natural world, there are dis-
orders which bring their own cures ; diseases, which
are themselves remedies. Many a man would have
died, had it not been for the gout or a fever; yet it

 
 

 

 

 

320

would be thought madness to assert, that sickness is
a better or more perfect state than health; though
the like, with regard to the moral world, has been
asserted. But,
2d, The natural government of the world is car-
ried on by general laws. For this there may be wise
and good reasons: the wisest and best, for aught we
know to the contrary. And that there are such rea-
sons, is suggested to our thoughts by the analogy of
nature ; by our being made to experience good ends
to be accomplished, as indeed all the good which we
enjoy is accomplished, by this means, that the laws by
which the world is governed, are general. For we
have scarce any kind of enjoyments, but what we
are, in some way or other, instrumental in procuring
ourselves, by acting in a manner which we foresee
likely to procure them: now this foresight could not
be at all, were not the government of the world car-
ried on by general laws. And though, for aught we
know to the contrary, every single case may be, at
length, found to have been provided for even by
these; yet, to prevent all irregularities, or remedy
them as they arise, by the wisest and best general
laws, may be impossible in the nature of things, as
we see it is absolutely impossible in civil government.
But then we are ready to think, that the constitution
of nature remaining as it is, and the course of things
being permitted to go on, in other respects, as it
does, there might be interpositions to prevent irre-
gularities, though they could not have been pre-
vented or remedied by any general laws. And there
would indeed be reason to wish—which, by the way,
is very different from a right to claim—that all irre-

 

321

gularities were prevented or remedied by present
mterpositions, if these interpositions would have no
other effect than this. But it is plain they would
have some visible and immediate bad effects; for in-
stance, they would encourage idleness and negligence

= i Sid render doubtful the sired vde of
1te, which is ascertained by this very thine

course of the world is dp on i a
And farther, it is certain they would hits distant oi
fects, and very great omes too, by means of the
wonderful connexions before-mentioned.* So that
we cannot so much as guess what would be the whole
result of the interpositions desired. It may be said,
any bad result might be prevented by farther inter-
positions, whenever there was occasion for them ; but
this again is talking quite at random, and in the
dark.+ Upon the whole, then, we see wise reasons
why the course of the world should be carried on b

general laws, and good ends accomplished by this
means ; and for aught we know, there may be the
wisest reasons for it, and the best ends accomplished
by it. "We have no ground to believe, that all irre-
gularities could be remedied as they arise, or could
have been precluded by general laws. We find that
Interpositions would produce evil, and prevent good;

and for aught we know, they would produce greater
evil than they would prevent, and prevent greater
good than they would produce. And if this be the

case, then the not interposing is so far from being a

ground of complaint, that it is an instance of good-

ness. This is intelligible and sufficient ; and Foltz

a—

* Page 313, &c. 1 Page 316, 317.

03

 
 

 

 

322

farther seems beyond the utmost reach of our facul-
ties.

But it may be said, ¢ that after all, these sup-
posed impossibilities and relations are what we are
unacquainted with; and we must judge of religion,
as of other things, by what we do know, and look
upon the rest as nothing; or, however, that the an-
swers here given to what is objected against religion,
may equally be made use of to invalidate the proof
of it, since their stress lies so very much upon our
ignorance.” But,

First, Though total ignorance, in any matter,
does indeed equally destroy, or rather preclude, all
proof concerning it, and objections against it, yet
partial ignorance does not. For we may in any de-
gree be convinced, that a person is of such a charac-
ter, and consequently will pursue such ends, though
we are greatly ignorant what is the proper way of
acting, in order the most effectually to obtain those
ends; and in this case, objections against his man-
ner of acting, as seemingly not conducive to obtain
them, might be answered by our ignorance, though
the proof that such ends were intended, might not
at all be invalidated by it. Thus the proof of re-
ligion is a proof of the moral character of God, and,
consequently, that his government is moral, and that
every one, upon the whole, shall receive according to
his deserts; a proof that this is the designed end of
his government. But we are not competent judges
what is the proper way of acting, in order the most
effectually to accomplish this end.* Therefore our

 

% Page 178, 179.

 

323

ignorance is an answer to objections against the
conduct of Providence, in permitting irregularities,
as seeming contradictory to this end. Now, since it
is so obvious that our ignorance may be a satisfactory
answer to objections against a thing, and yet not af-
fect the proof of it; till it can be shown, it is fri-
volous to assert, that our ignorance invalidates the
proof of religion, as it does the objections against
it.

Secondly, Suppose unknown impossibilities, and
unknown relations, might justly be urged to invali-
date the proof of religion, as well as to answer ob-
Jections against it, and that, in consequence of this,
the proof of it were doubtful; yet still, let the as-
sertion be despised, or let it be ridiculed, it is unde-
niably true, that moral obligations would remain cer-
tain, though it were not certain what would, upon
the whole, be the consequences of observing or vio-
lating them. For these obligations arise immediately
and necessarily from the judgment of our own mind,
unless perverted, which we cannot violate without
being self-condemned. And they would be certain,
too, from considerations of interest. For, though it
were doubtful what will be the future consequences of
virtue and vice, yet it is however credible that thev
may have those consequences which religion teaches
us they will; and this credibility is a certain* obliga-
tion in point of prudence, to abstain from all wick-
edness, and to live in the conscientious practice of
all that is good. But,

Thirdly, The answers above given to the objec-

a —

* Page 173, and Part II. chap. vi.

 
 

 

 

 

 

324

tions against religion, cannot equally be made use of
to invalidate the proof of it. For, upon the sup-
position that God exercises a moral government over
the world, analogy does most strongly lead us to
conclude, that this moral government must be a
scheme, or constitution, beyond our comprehension.
And a thousand particular analogies show us, that
parts of such a scheme, from their relation to other
parts, may conduce to accomplish ends, which we
should have thought they had no tendency at all to
accomplish ; nay, ends, which, before experience, we
should have thought such parts were contradictory
to, and had a tendency to prevent. And, therefore,
all these analogies show, that the way of arguing
made use of in objecting against religion, is delusive;
because they show it is not at all incredible, that,
could we comprehend the whole, we should find the
permission of the disorders objected against, to he
consistent with justice and goodness, and even to
be instances of them. Now this is not applicable to
the proof of religion, as it is to the objections against
it;* and therefore cannot invalidate that proof, as it
does these objections.

Lastly, From the observations now made, it is
easy to see, that the answers above given to the ob-
jections against Providence, though, in a general
way of speaking, they may be said to be taken from
our ignorance, yet are by no means taken merely
from that, but from somewhat which analogy shows
us concerning it. or analogy shows us positively,
that our ignorance in the possibilities of things, and

 

* Sermon at the Rolls, p. 312, 2d Edit.

325

the various relations in nature, renders us in
tent judges, and leads us to false con
cases similar to this,
and to object.

compe-
clusions, in
in which we pretend to judge
So that the things above insisted
upon, are not mere suppositions of unknown impos-
sibilities and relations; but they are suggested to
our thoughts, and even forced upon the ser Sarton
of serious men, and rendered credible too, by the
analogy of nature. And, therefore, to take these
things into the account, is to judge
and what we do know; and it is ho
take no notice of them.

by experience,
judging so, to

 
 

 

CONCLUSION.

THE observations of the last chapter lead us to
consider this little scene of human life, in which we
are so busily engaged, as having a reference, of some
sort or other, to a much larger plan of things. Whe-
ther we are any way related to the more distant
parts of the boundless universe into which we are
brought, is altogether uncertain. But it is evident,
that the course of things, which comes within our
view, is connected with somewhat past, present, and
future, beyond it.* So that we are placed, as one
may speak, in the middle of a scheme, not a fixed,
but a progressive one, every way incomprehensible ;
incomprehensible in a manner, equally with respect
to what has been, what now is, and what shall be
hereafter. And this sheme cannot but contain in
it somewhat as wonderful, and as much beyond our
thought and conception, + as any thing in that of re-
ligion. For, will any man in his senses say, that it
is less difficult to conceive how the world came to be,
and to continue as it is, without, than with, an intelli-
gent Author and Governor of it? or, admitting an
intelligent Governor of it, that there is some other
rule of government more natural, and of easier con-
ception, than that which we call moral? Indeed,
without an intelligent Author and Governor of na-
ture, no account at all can be given, how this uni-
verse, or the part of it particularly in which we

 

* Page 314. t See Part ii. Chap. 2.

327

are concerned, came to be, and the course of jt
to be carried on as it is; nor any of its general end
and design, without a moral Governor of it. That
there is an intelligent Author of nature, and na-
tural Governor of the world, is a principle gone
upon in the foregoing treatise, as proved, and ge-
nerally known and confessed to be proved. And
the very notion of an intelligent Author of nature,
proved by particular final causes, implies a will and
a character.* Now, as our whole nature, the na-
ture which he has given us, leads us to conclude
his will and character to be moral, just, and good ;
S0 we can scarce in imagination conceive what it
can be otherwise. However, in consequence of this
his will and character, whatever it be, he formed the
universe as it is, and carries on the course of it as
he does, rather than in any other manner; and has
assigned to us, and to all living creatures, a part
and a lot in it. Irrational creatures act this their
part, and enjoy and undergo the pleasures and the
pains allotted them, without any reflection. But
one would think it impossible, that creatures endued
with reason could avoid reflecting sometimes upon
all this reflecting, if not from whence we came,
yet at least, whither we are going, and what the
mysterious scheme in the midst of which we find
ourselves, will at length come out and produce; a
scheme in which it is certain we are highly inter-
ested, and in which we may be interested even be-
yond conception. For many things prove it palpa-
bly absurd to conclude, that we shall cease to be at

& Page 300.

 
 

 

 

 

328

death. Particular analogies do most sensibly show
us, that there is nothing to be thought strange in
our being to exist in another state of life. And
that we are now living beings, affords a strong
probability that we shall continue so; unless there
be some positive ground, and there is none from
reason or analogy, to think death will destroy us.
Were a persuasion of this kind ever so well
grounded, there would surely be little reason to
take pleasure in it. But, indeed, it can have no
other ground than some such imagination, as that
of our gross bodies being ourselves; which is con-
trary to experience. Experience, too, most clearly
shows us the folly of concluding, from the body
and the living agent affecting each other mutu-
ally, that the dissolution of the former is the de-
struction of the latter. And there are remarkable
instances of their not affecting each other, which
lead us to a contrary conclusion. The supposition,
then, which in all reason we are to go upon, is, that
our living nature will continue after death. And it
is infinitely unreasonable, to form an institution of
life, or to act upon any other supposition. Now,
all expectation of immortality, whether more or less
certain, opens an unbounded prospect to our hopes
and our fears; since we see the constitution of na-
ture is such as to admit of misery, as well as to be

productive of happiness, and experience ourselves
to partake of both in some degree; and since we
cannot but know what higher degrees of both we
are capable of. And there is no presumption
against believing farther, that our future interest
depends upon our present behaviour; for we see

329

our present interest doth; and that the happiness
and misery, which are naturally annexed to our ac-
tions, very frequently do not follow till long after
the actions are done to which they are respectively
annexed. So that, were speculation to leave us
uncertain, whether it were likely that the Author
of Nature, in giving happiness and misery to his
creatures, hath regard to their actions or not; yet,
since we find by experience that he hath such re-
gard, the whole sense of things which he has given
us, plainly leads us at once, and without any elabo-
rate inquiries, to think that it may, indeed must, be
to good actions chiefly that he hath annexed happi-
ness, and to bad actions misery; or that he will,
upon the whole, reward those who do well, and
punish those who do evil. To confirm this from
the constitution of the world, it has been observed,
that some sort of moral government is necessarily
implied in that natural government of God which
we experience ourselves under; that good and bad
actions, at present, are naturally rewarded and pun-
ished, not only as beneficial and mischievous to so-
ciety, but also as virtuous and vicious; and that
there is, in the very nature of the thing, a tenden-
cy to their being rewarded and punished in a much
higher degree than they are at present. And
though this higher degree of distributive justice,
which nature thus points out and leads towards, is
prevented for a time from taking place, it is by ob-
stacles which the state of this world unhappily
throws in its way, and which, therefore, are in their
nature temporary. Now, as these things, in the
natural conduct of Providence, are observable on

 
 

330

the side of virtue, so there is nothing to be set
against them on the side of vice. A moral scheme
of government, then, is visibly established, and in
some degree carried into execution; and this, to-
gether with the essential tendencies of virtue and
vice duly considered, naturally raise in us an appre-
hension, that it will be carried on farther towards
perfection in a future state, and that every one shall
there receive according to his deserts. And if this
be so, then our future and general interest, under
the moral government of God, is appointed to de-
pend upon our behaviour, notwithstanding the dif-
ficulty which this may occasion of securing it, and
the danger of losing it; just in the same manner as
our temporal interest, under his natural govern-
ment, is appointed to depend upon our behaviour,
notwithstanding the like difficulty and danger. For,
from our original constitution, and that of the
world which we inhabit, we are naturally trusted
with ourselves, with our own conduct, and our own
interest. And from the same constitution of nature,
especially joined with that course of things which is
owing to men, we have temptations to be unfaithful
in this trust, to forfeit this interest, to neglect it,
and run ourselves into misery and ruin. From these
temptations arise the difficulties of behaving so as
to secure our temporal interest, and the hazard of
behaving so as to miscarry in it. There is, there-
fore, nothing incredible in supposing, there may
be the like difficulty and hazard with regard to that
chief and final good which religion lays before us.
Indeed, the whole account how it came to pass that
we were placed in such a condition as this, must be

 

 

331

beyond our comprehension. But it is in part ac-
counted for by what religion teaches us, that the
character of virtue and piety must be a necessary
qualification for a future state of security and happi-
ness, under the moral government of God; in like
manner, as some certain qualifications or other are
necessary for every particular condition of life, under
his natural government; and that the present state
was intended to be a school of discipline, for improv-
ing in ourselves that character. Now, this inten-
tion of nature is rendered highly credible by observ-
ing, that we are plainly made for improvement of all
kinds ; that it is a general appointment of Provi-
dence, that we cultivate practical principles, and
form within ourselves habits of action, in order to
become fit for what we were wholly unfit for before ;
that, in particular, childhood and youth is naturally
appointed to be a state of discipline for mature age:
and that the present world is peculiarly fitted for a
state of moral discipline. And, whereas objections
are urged against the whole notion of moral govern-
ment and a probation-state, from the opinion of ne-
cessity, it has been shown, that God has given us
the evidence, as it were of experience, that all ob-
jections against religion on this head are vain and
delusive. He has also, in his natural government,
suggested an answer to all our short-sighted objec-
tions against the equity and goodness of his moral
government, and, in general, he has exemplified to
us the latter by the former.

These things, which, it is to be remembered, are
matters of fact, ought in all common sense, to awaken
mankind, to induce them to consider, in earnest, their

 
ani

ete

 

i i

 

 

332

condition, and what they have to do. It is absurd—
absurd to the degree of being ridiculous, if the sub-
ject were not of so serious a kind, for men to think
themselves secure in a vicious life, or even in that
immoral thoughtlessness which far the greatest part
of them are fallen into. And the credibility of re-
ligion, arising from experience and facts here consi-
dered, is fully sufficient, in reason, to engage them
to live in the general practice of all virtue and piety:
under the serious apprehension, though it should be
mixed with some doubt,* of a righteous administra-
tion established in nature, and a future judgment in
consequence of it; especially when we consider, how
very questionable it is whether any thing at all can
be gained by vice; how unquestionably little, as
well as precarious, the pleasures and profits of it are
at the best; and how soon they must be parted with
at the longest. For, in the deliberations of reason,
concerning what we are to pursue and what to avoid,
as temptations to any thing from mere passion are
supposed out of the case; so inducements to vice,
from cool expectations of pleasure and interest, so
small, and uncertain, and short, are really so insig-
nificant, as, in the view of reason, to be almost no-
thing in themselves, and, in comparison with the im-
portance of religion, they quite disappear and are
lost. Mere passion, indeed, may be alleged, though
not as a reason, yet as an excuse for a vicious course
of life. And how sorry an excuse it is will be ma-
nifest by observing, that we are placed in a condi-
tion in which we are unavoidably inured to govern

 

* Part II. Chap. 6. + Page 226.

333

our passions, by being necessitated to govern them;
and to lay ourselves under the same kind of restraints,
and as great ones too, from temporal regards, as vir-
tue and piety, in the ordinary course of things, re-
quire. The plea of ungovernable passion, then, on
the side of vice, is the poorest of all things; for it is
no reason, and but a poor excuse. But the proper
motives to religion, are the proper proofs of it, from
our moral nature, from the presages of conscience,
and our natural apprehension of God, under the cha-
racter of a righteous Governor and J udge; a nature,
and conscience, and apprehension given us by him ;

and from the confirmation of the dictates of reason,

by life and immortality brought to light by the gos-
pel ; and the wrath of God revealed Jrom heaven.
agaenst all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men.

 
OF REVEALED RELIGION.

 

 

 

 

 
I

 

 

 

THE

ANALOGY OF RELIGION.

PART II.

OF REVEALED RELIGION.

CHAP. I.
Of the Importance of Christianity.

SOME persons, upon pretence of the sufficiency of
the light of nature, avowedly reject all revelation, as,
in its very notion, incredible, and what must be fic-
titious. And, indeed, it is certain, no revelation
would have been given, had the light of nature been
sufficient in such a sense, as to render one not want-
ing and useless. But no man in seriousness and
simplicity of mind, can possibly think it so, who con-
siders the state of religion in the heathen world be-
fore revelation, and its present state in those places
which have borrowed no light from it; particularly
the doubtfulness of some of the greatest men con-
cerning things of the utmost importance, as well as
the natural inattention and ignorance of mankind in
general. It is impossible to say who would have
been able to have reasoned out that whole system,
P 17

 
A APA PI SE ey -.

 

 

338

which we call natural religion, in its genuine simpli-
city, clear of superstition; but there is certainly no
ground to affirm that the generality could: if they
could, there is no sort of probability that they would.
Admitting there were, they would highly want a
standing admonition, to remind them of it, and in-
culcate it upon them. And farther still, were they
as much disposed to attend to religion as the better
sort of men are, yet, even upon this supposition,
there would be various occasions for supernatural
instruction and assistance, and the greatest advan-
tages might be afforded by them. So that to say,
revelation is a thing superfluous, what there is no
need of, and what can be of no service, is, I think,
to talk quite wildly and at random. Nor would it
be more extravagant to affirm, that mankind is so
entirely at ease in the present state, and life so com-
pletely happy, that it is a contradiction to suppose
our condition capable of being in any respect better.
There are other persons, not to be ranked with
these, who seem to be getting into a way of neglect-
ing, and, as it were, overlooking revelation, as of
small importance, provided natural religion be kept
to. With little regard, either to the evidence of
the former, or to the objections against it, and even
upon supposition of its truth, «The only design of
it,” say they, ¢“must be to establish a belief of the
moral system of nature, and to enforce the practice
of natural piety and virtue. The belief and prac-
tice of these things were, perhaps, much promoted
by the first publication of Christianity ; but whether
they are believed and practised, upon the evidence
and motives of nature or of revelation, is no great

339

matter.”* This way of considering revelation
though it is not the same with the former, yet ry
ders nearly upon it, and very much, at length, runs
up nto it, and requires to be particularly considered
with regard to the persons who seem to be dling
into this way. The consideration of it will like:
wise, farther show the extravagance of the Boras
opinion, and the truth of the observations in answer
to 1t, just mentioned. And an inquiry into the Im-
portance of Christianity, cannot be an improper in-
troduction to a treatise concerning the credibility of
it.

Now, if God has given a revelation to mankind
and commanded those things which are conmdrden
in Christianity, it is evident, at first sight, that it
cannot mn anywise be an indifferent matter, whether
we obey or disobey those commands, unless we are
certainly assured, that we know all the reasons for
them, and that all those reasons are now ceased with
regard to mankind in general, or to ourselves in ar-
ticular. And it is absolutely impossible we ne be
assured of this; for our ignorance of these reasons
proves nothing in the case, since the whole analooy
of nature shows, what is indeed in itself evident,

there may be infinite reasons for things, with which
We are not acquainted.

 

ig anos multos propterea nolli
z I us Sd SY ae bona vita sua. Bene vivere opus est, ait.
Rul wr = » Wigs est Christus ? Ut bene vivam? Jam
oT ud i ! necessarius est Christus? Nullum homi-
Se * urtum, nullam rapinam facio, res alienas non

Pisco, nullo adulterio contaminor. Nam inveniatur in vita

mea aliquid quod reprehend i : :
tianum,—dug. in Peal, xxi, © L "eprehenderit faciat Chris-

fieri Christianos, quia

P2

 
 

 

340

But the importance of Christianity will more dis-
tinctly appear, by considering it more distinctly :
1st, As a republication, and external institution, of
natural or essential religion, adapted to the present
circumstances of mankind, and intended to promote
natural piety and virtue; and, 2dly, As containing
an account of a dispensation of things, not discover-
able by reason, in consequence of which several dis-
tinct precepts are enjoined us. For, though natural
religion is the foundation and principal part of Chris-
tianity, it is not in any sense the whole of it.

I. Christianity is a republication of natural reli-
gion. It instructs mankind in the moral system of
the world : that it is the work of an infinitely perfect
Being, and under his government; that virtue is his
law; and that he will finally judge mankind in righ-
teousness, and render to all according to their works,
in a future state. And, which is very material, it
teaches natural religion in its genuine simplicity, free
from those superstitions with which it was totally
corrupted, and under which it was in a manner lost.

Revelation is, further, an authoritative publication
of natural religion, and so affords the evidence of
testimony for the truth of it. Indeed the miracles
and prophecies recorded in Scripture, were intended
to prove a particular dispensation of Providence—
the redemption of the world by the Messiah; but
this does not hinder but that they may also prove
God’s general providence over the world, as our
moral Governor and Judge. And they evidently
do prove it; because this character of the Author of

nature is necessarily connected with, and implied in
that particular revealed dispensation of things: it is

341

likewise continually taught expressly, and insisted
upon by those persons who wrought the miracles and
delivered the prophecies. So that, indeed, natural
religion seems as much proved by the Scripture re-
velation, as it would have been, had the design of
revelation been nothing else than to prove it.

But it may possibly be disputed, how far miracles
can prove natural religion; and notable objections
may be urged against this proof of it, considered as a
matter of speculation: but, considered as a practical
thing, there can be none. F or, suppose a person to
teach natural religion to a nation, who had lived in
total ignorance or forgetfulness of it, and to declare
he was commissioned by God so to do; suppose him
in proof of his commission, to foretell things Sitiive,
which no human foresight could have cuessed oy
to divide the sea with a word ; feed avout, sultitndes
with bread from heaven ; cure all ssttir of diseases:
and raise the dead even himself, to life : would ot
this give additional credibility to his teaching, a cre-
dibility beyond what that of a common an would
have, and be an authoritative publication of the law
of nature, that is, a new proof of it? It would be
: practical one, of the strongest kind, perhaps, which

uman creatures are capable of havi iv
The law of Moses, "on LI } of ry
: pel of Christ,
are authoritative publications of the religion of nature:
they afford a proof of God’s general providence, as
moral Governor of the world, as well as of his en
ticular dispensations of providence towards sinful
creatures, revealed in the law and the gospel. As
they are the only evidence of the latter, so they are
an additional evidence of the former. "

 
rR ———

"- I PE ET

 

 

 

342

To show this farther, let us suppose a man of the
greatest and most improved capacity, who had never
heard of revelation, convinced upon the whole, not-
withstanding the disorders of the world, that it was
under the direction and moral government of an infi-
nitely perfect Being, but ready to question, whether
he were not got beyond the reach of his faculties;
suppose him brought, by this suspicion, into great
danger of being carried away by the universal bad
example of almost every one around him, who ap-
peared to have no sense, no practical sense at least,
of these things; and this, perhaps, would be as ad-
vantageous a situation, with regard to religion, as
nature alone ever placed any man in. What a con-
firmation now must it be to such a person, all at once
to find, that this moral system of things was revealed
to mankind, in the name of that infinite Being,
whom he had, from principles of reason, believed in;
and that the publishers of the revelation proved their
commission from him by making it appear, that he
had intrusted them with a power of suspending and
changing the general laws of nature. ita

Nor must it, by any means, be omitted, for it is
a thing of the utmost importance, that life and im-
mortality are eminently brought to light by the gos-
pel. The great doctrines of a future state, the dan-
ger of a course of wickedness, and the efficacy of re-
pentance, are not only confirmed in the gospel, but
are taught, especially the last is, with a degree of
light, to which that of nature is but darkness.

Farther: As Christianity served these ends and
purposes, when it was first published, by the miracu-
lous publication itself; so it was intended to serve

343

the same purposes, in future ages, by means of the
settlement of a visible church; of a society, distin-
guished from common ones, and from the rest of the
world, by peculiar religious institutions; by an insti-
tuted method of instruction, and an instituted form
of external religion. Miraculous powers were given
to the first preachers of Christianity, in order to their
introducing it into the world: a visible church was
established, in order to continue it, and carry it on
successively throughout all ages. Had Moses and
the Prophets, Christ and his Apostles, only taught,
and by miracles proved, religion to their contempo-
raries, the benefits of their instructions would have
reached but to a small part of mankind. Christian-
ity must have been, in a great degree, sunk and for-
got in a very few ages. To prevent this, appears to
have been one reason why a visible church was insti-
tuted ; to be, like a city upon a hill, a standing me-
morial to the world, of the duty which we owe our
Maker; to call men continually, both by example
and instruction, to attend to it, and, by the form of
religion ever before their eyes, remind them of the
reality ; to be the repository of the oracles of God;
to hold up the light of revelation in aid to that of
nature, and propagate it throughout all generations
to the end of the world—the light of revelation, con-
sidered here in no other view, than as designed to
enforce natural religion. And, in proportion as
Christianity is professed and taught in the world,
religion, natural or essential religion, is thus dis-
tinctly and advantageously laid before mankind, and
brought again and again to their thoughts, as a mat-
ter of infinite importance. A visible church has

 
 

 

344

also a farther tendency to promote natural religion,
as being an instituted method of education, originally
intended to be of more peculiar advantage to those
who would conform to it. For one end of the in-
stitution was, that, by admonition and reproof, as
well as instruction; by a general regular discipline,
and public exercises of religion, the body of Christ,
as the Scripture speaks, should be edified ; that is,
trained up in piety and virtue, for a higher and bet-
ter state. This settlement, then, appearing thus
beneficial ; tending, in the nature of the thing, to
answer, and, in some degree actually answering,
those ends; it is to be remembered, that the very
notion of it implies positive institutions: for the visi-
bility of the church consists in them. Take away
every thing of this kind, and you lose the very no-
tion itself. So that, if the things now mentioned
are advantages, the reason and importance of positive
institutions in general is most obvious; since, with-
out them, these advantages could not be secured to
the world. And it is mere idle wantonness, to in-
sist upon knowing the reasons why such particular
ones were fixed upon, rather than others.

The benefit arising from this supernatural assist-
ance, which Christianity affords to natural religion,
is what some persons are very slow in apprehending:
and yet it is a thing distinct in itself, and a very plain
obvious one. For will any, in good earnest, really
say, that the bulk of mankind in the heathen world
were in as advantageous a situation, with regard to
natural religion, as they are now amongst us? that it
was laid before them, and enforced upon them, in a
manner as distinct, and as much tending to influence
their practice ?

345

The objections against all this, from the perver-
sion of Christianity, and from the supposition of its
having had but little good influence, however in-
nocently they may be proposed, yet cannot be in-
sisted upon as conclusive, upon any principles but
such as lead to downright atheism ; because the ma-
nifestation of the law of nature by reason, which, up-
on all principles of theism, must have been from God,
has been perverted and rendered ineffectual in the
same manner. It may indeed, I think, truly be said,
that the good effects of Christianity have not been
small ; nor its supposed ill effects, any effects at all
of it, properly speaking. Perhaps, too, the things
themselves done have been aggravated; and if not,
Christianity hath been often only a pretence; and
the same evils, in the main, would have been done
upon some other pretence. However, great and
shocking as the corruptions and abuses of it have
really been, they cannot be insisted upon as argu-
ments against it, upon principles of theism. For
one cannot proceed one step in reasoning upon natu-
ral religion, any more than upon Christianity, with-
out laying it down as a first principle, that the dis-
pensations of Providence are not to be judged of by
their perversions, but by their genuine tendencies;
not by what they do actually seem to effect, but by
what they would effect if mankind did their part ;
that part which is justly put and left upon them. It
is altogether as much the language of one, as of the
other: ¢ He that is unjust, let him be unjust still ;
and he that is holy, let him be holy still.” Rev. xxii.
11. The light of reason does not, any more than
that of revelation, force men to submit to its autho-

r3

 
 

 

 

346
rity: both admonish them of what they ought to do

and avoid, together with the consequences of each ;
and after this leave them at full liberty to act just as
they please, till the appointed time of judgment.
Every moment’s experience shows that this is God’s
general rule of government.

To return, then; Christianity being a promulga-
tion of the law of nature; being, moreover, an au-
thoritative promulgation of it, with new light, and
other circumstances of peculiar advantage, adapted to
the wants of mankind; these things fully show its
importance. And it is to be observed farther, that
as the nature of the case requires, so all Christians
are commanded to contribute, by their profession of
Christianity, to preserve it in the world, and render
it such a promulgation and enforcement of religion.
For itis the very scheme of the gospel, that each
Christian should, in his degree, contribute towards
continuing and carrying it on; all by uniting in the
public profession, and external practice of Christi-
anity ; some by instructing, by having the oversight,
and taking care of this religious community—the
church of God. Now this farther shows the im-
portance of Christianity, and, which is what I chiefly
intend, its importance in a practical sense, or the high
obligations we are under, to take it into our most se-
rious consideration; and the danger there must ne-
cessarily be, not only in treating it despitefully, which
I am not now speaking of, but in disregarding and
neglecting it. For this is neglecting to do what is
expressly enjoined us, for continuing those benefits
to the world, and transmitting them down to future

times. And all this holds, even though the only

347

thing to be considered in Christianity were, its sub-
serviency to natural religion. But,

II. Christianity is to be considered in a further
view, as containing an account of a dispensation of
things, not at all discoverable by reason, in conse-
quence of which several distinct precepts are enjoined
us. Christianity is not only an external institution
of natural religion, and a new promulgation of God’s
general providence, as righteous Governor and J udge
of the world; but it contains also a revelation of a
particular dispensation of providence, carrying on by
his Son and Spirit, for the recovery and salvation of
mankind, who are represented in Scripture, to be in
a state of ruin. And, in consequence of this reve-
lation being made, we are commanded 70 be baptized,
not only in the name of the Father, but also of the
Son, and of the Holy Ghost ; and other obligations
of duty, unknown before, to the Son and the Holy
Ghost, are revealed. Now, the importance of these
duties may be judged of, by observing that they
arise, not from positive command merely, but also
from the offices which appear, from Scripture, to be-
long to those divine persons in the gospel dispensa-
tion, or from the relations which, we are there in-
formed, they stand in to us. By reason is revealed
the relation which God the Father stands in to us.
Hence arises the obligation of duty which we are
under to him. In Scripture are revealed the rela-
tions which the Son and Holy Spirit stand in to us.
Hence arise the obligations of duty which we are
under to them. The truth of the case, as one may
speak, in each of these three respects, being admit-
ted, that God is the Governor of the world, upon

 
 

 

 

 

 

348

the evidence of reason; that Christ is the Mediator
between God and man; and the Holy Ghost our
Guide and Sanctifier, upon the evidence of revela-
tion: the truth of the case, I say, in each of these
respects, being admitted, it is no more a question,
why it should be commanded that we be baptized in
the name of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, than
that we be baptized in the name of the Father.
This matter seems to require to be more fully
stated. *

Let it be remembered, then, that religion comes
under the twofold consideration of internal and ex-
ternal ; for the latter is as real a part of religion, of
true religion, as the former. Now, when religion
is considered under the first notion, as an inward
principle, to be exerted in such and such inward
acts of the mind and heart, the essence of natural
religion may be said to consist in religious regards
to God the Father Almighty ; and the essence of
revealed religion, as distinguished from natural, to
consist in religious regards to the Son and to the
Holy Ghost. And the obligation we are under, of
paying these religious regards to each of these Di-
vine persons respectively, arises from the respective
relations which they each stand in to us. How
these relations are made known, whether by reason
or revelation, makes no alteration in the case; be-
cause the duties arise out of the relations themselves,
not out of the manner in which we are informed of

them. The Son and Spirit have each his proper

 

* See ‘The Nature, Obligation, and Efficacy, of the Christ-
ian Sacraments,” &c. and Colliber of Revealed Religion, as there
quoted.

349

office in that great dispensation of Providence, the
redemption of the world: the one our Mediator,
the other our Sanctifier. Does not, then, the
duty of religious regards to both these divine per-
sons, as immediately arise to the view of reason,
out of the very nature of these offices and relations,
as the inward good-will and kind intention, which
we owe to our fellow-creatures, arise out of the
common relations between us and them? But it
will be asked, ¢ What are the inward religious re-
gards, appearing thus obviously due to the Son and
Holy Spirit, as arising, not merely from command
in Scripture, but from the very nature of the re-
vealed relations which they stand in to us?’ I
answer, the religious regards of reverence, honour,
love, trust, gratitude, fear, hope. In what exter-
nal manner this inward worship is to be expressed,
is a matter of pure revealed command; as, perhaps,
the external manner in which God the Father is to
be worshipped, may be more so than we are ready
to think; but the worship, the internal worship it-
self, to the Son and Holy Ghost, is no farther
matter of pure revealed command, than as the rela-
tions they stand in to us, are matter of pure revela-
tion; for the relations being known, the obligations
to such internal worship are obligations of reason,
arising out of those relations themselves. In short,
the history of the gospel as immediately shows us
the reason of these obligations, as it shows us the
meaning of the words, Son and Holy Ghost.

If this account of the Christian religion be just,
those persons who can speak lightly of it, as of lit-
tle consequence, provided natural religion be kept

 
A

pra ——

OLSEN OAT

 

 

 

i

ry RT Tye

350

to, plainly forget, that Christianity, even what is
peculiarly so called, as distinguished from natural
religion, has yet somewhat very important, even

of a moral nature. For the office of our Lord

being made known, and the relation he stands in to
us, the obligation of religious regards to him is
plainly moral, as much as charity to mankind is;
since this obligation arises, before external com-
mand, immediately out of that his office and rela-
tion itself. These persons appear to forget, that
revelation is to be considered as informing us of
somewhat new in the state of mankind, and in the
government of the world; as acquainting us with
some relations we stand in, which could not other-
wise have been known. And these relations being
real, (though before revelation we could be under
no obligations from them, yet upon their being re-
vealed,) there is no reason to think, but that ne-
glect of behaving suitably to them, will be attended
with the same kind of consequences under God's
government, as neglecting to behave suitably to any
other relations made known to us by reason. And
ignorance, whether unavoidable or voluntary, so far
as we can possibly see, will, just as much, and just
as little, excuse in one case as in the other: the
ignorance being supposed equally unavoidable, or
equally voluntary, in both cases.

If, therefore, Christ be indeed the Mediator be-
tween God and man; that is, if Christianity be
true; if he be indeed our Lord, our Saviour, and
our God, no one can say what may follow, not only
the obstinate, but the careless disregard to him in
those high relations. Nay, no one can say what

351

may follow such disregard, even in the way of na-
tural consequence.* For, as the natural conse-
quences of vice in this life, are doubtless to be con-
sidered as judicial punishments inflicted by God; so
likewise, for aught we know, the judicial punish-
ments of the future life may be, in a like way, or a
like sense, the natural consequence of vice; of
men’s violating or disregarding the relations which
God has placed them in here, and made known to
them.

Again, If mankind are corrupted and depraved
in their moral character, and so are unfit for that
state which Christ is gone to prepare for his disci-
ples; and, if the assistance of God’s Spirit be ne-
cessary to renew their nature, in the degree requi-
site to their being qualified for that state; all which
is implied in the express, though ficurative, decla-
ration, Except a man be born of the Spirit, he can-
not enter into the kingdom of God : supposing this,
is it possible any serious person can think it a slight
matter, whether or not he makes use of the Whe
expressly commanded by God, for obtaining this
divine assistance ; especially since the whole analogy
of nature shows, that we are not to expect any be-
nefits, without making use of the appointed means
for obtaining or enjoying them. Now, reason
shows us nothing of the particular immediate means
of obtaining either temporal or spiritual benefits.
This, therefore, we must learn, either from experi-
ence or revelation. And experience, the present
case does not admit of.

 

* Page 205, 206, &e. t Chap. 5.

 
EN AN OE ER

 

 

 

 

 

Fe

ARR so RSC u

352

The conclusion from all this evidently is, that
Christianity being supposed either true or credible,
it is unspeakable irreverence, and really the most
presumptuous rashness, to treat it as a light matter.
It can never justly be esteemed of little conse-
quence, till it be positively supposed false. Nor
do I know a higher and more important obligation
which we are under, than that of examining most
seriously into the evidence of it, supposing its cre-
dibility ; and of embracing it, upon supposition of
its truth.

The two following deductions may be proper to
be added, in order to illustrate the foregoing obser-
vations, and to prevent their being mistaken.

1. Hence we may clearly see, where lies the dis-
tinction between what is positive and what is moral
in religion. Moral precepts are precepts, the rea-
sons of which we see; positive precepts are pre-
cepts, the reasons of which we do not see.* Mo-
ral duties arise out of the nature of the case itself,
prior to external command. Positive duties do not
arise out of the nature of the case, but from exter-
nal command ; nor would they be duties at all, were
it not for such command received from him, whose
creatures and subjects we are. But the manner in
which the nature of the case, or the fact of the re-

 

* This is the distinction between moral and positive precepts,
considered respectively as such. But yet, since the latter have
somewhat of a moral nature, we may see the reason of them
considered in this view. Moral and positive precepts are in
some respects alike, in other respects different. So far as they
are alike, we discern the reasons of both; so far as they are dif-
ferent, we discern the reasons of the former, but not of the latter.
See p. 342, &c. and p. 353.

353

lation, is made known, this doth not denominace
any duty, either positive or moral. That we be
baptized in the name of the Father, is as much a
positive duty as that we be baptized in the name of
the Son; because both arise equally from revealed
command ; though the relation which we stand in
to God the Father, is made known to us by rea-
son ; the relation we stand in to Christ, by revela-
tion only. On the other hand, the dispensation of
the gospel admitted, gratitude as immediately be-
comes due to Christ, from his being the voluntary
minister of this dispensation, as it is due to God the
Father, from his being the fountain of all good ;
though the first is made known to us by revelation
only, the second by reason. Hence also we may
see, and, for distinctness sake, it may be worth
mentioning, that positive institutions come under a
twofold consideration: They are either-institutions
founded on natural religion, as baptism in the name
of the Father; though this has also a particular re-
ference to the gospel dispensation, for it is in the
name of God, as the Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ ; or they are external institutions founded on
revealed religion, as baptism in the name of the Son,
and of the Holy Ghost.

2. From the distinction between what is moral
and what is positive in religion, appears the ground
of that peculiar preference, which the Scripture
teaches us to be due to the former.

The reason of positive institutions in general is
very obvious, though we should not see the reason
why such particular ones are pitched upon, rather
than others. Whoever, therefore, instead of ca-

 
————

 

A A TA FE EM AEE

 

 

 

: A Ue
RAT a Ae AT AR em

en

5 =

354

villing at words, will attend to the thing itself, may
clearly see, that positive institutions in general, as
distinguished from this or that particular one, have
the nature of moral commands; since the reasons of
them appear. Thus, for instance, the external
worship of God is a moral duty, though no particu-
lar mode of it be so. Care then is to be taken,
when a comparison is made between positive and
moral duties, that they be compared no farther than
as they are different; no farther than as the former
are positive, or arise out of mere external command,
the reasons of which we are not acquainted with ;
and as the latter are moral, or arise out of the ap-
parent reason of the case, without such external
command. Unless this caution be observed, we
shall run into endless confusion.

Now, this being premised, suppose two standing
precepts enjoined by the same authority; that in
certain conjunctures, it is impossible to obey both;
that the former is moral, that is, a precept of which
we see the reasons, and that they hold in the par-
ticular case before us; but that the latter is positive,
that is, a precept of which we do not see the reasons :
it is indisputable that our obligations are to obey the
former, because there is an apparent reason for this
preference, and none against it. Farther, positive
institutions, I suppose all those which Christianity
enjoins, are means to a moral end; and the end
must be acknowledged more excellent than the
means. Nor is observance of these institutions any
religious obedience at all, or of any value, otherwise
than as it proceeds from a moral principle. This
seems to be the strict logical way of stating and de-

355

termining this matter; but will, perhaps, be found
less applicable to practice than may be thought at
first sight.

And, therefore, in a more practical, though more
lax way of consideration, and taking the words
moral law and positive institutions, in the popular
sense; I add, that the whole moral law, is as much
matter of revealed command, as positive institutions
are; for the Scripture enjoins every mortal virtue.
In this respect, then, they are both upon a level.
But the moral law is, moreover, written upon our
hearts; interwoven into our very nature. And this
is a plain intimation of the Author of it, which is to
be preferred, when they interfere.

But there is not altogether so much necessity for
the determination of this question, as some persons
seem to think. Nor are we left to reason alone to
determine it. For, first, Though mankind have,
in all ages, been greatly prone to place their religion
in peculiar positive rites, by way of equivalent for
obedience to moral precepts; yet, without making
any comparison at all between them, and conse-
quently without determining which is to have the
preference, the nature of the thing abundantly shows
all notions of that kind to be utterly subversive of
true religion ; as they are, moreover, contrary to
the whole general tenor of Scripture, and likewise
to the most express particular declarations of it, that
nothing can render us accepted of God, without
moral virtue. Secondly, Upon the occasion of men-
tioning together positive and moral duties, the Scrip-
ture always puts the stress of religion upon the latter,
and never upon the former; which, though no sort

 
EE AS EE SR RR

 

 

 

SEE REE a

356

of allowance to neglect the former, when they do not
interfere with the latter, yet is a plain intimation,
that when they do, the latter are to be preferred.
And, farther, as mankind are for placing the stress
of their religion any where, rather than upon virtue,
lest both the reason of the thing, and the general
spirit of Christianity, appearing in the intimation now
mentioned, should be ineffectual against this preva-
lent folly; our Lord himself, from whose command
alone the obligation of positive institution arises, has
taken occasion to make the comparison between them
and moral precepts, when the Pharisees censured him
for eating with publicans and sinners ; and also when
they censured his disciples for plucking the ears of
corn on the Sabbath-day. Upon this comparison he
has determined expressly, and in form, which shall
have the preference when they interfere. And by
delivering his authoritative determination in a pro-
verbial manner of expression, he has made it gene-
ral, I will have mercy, and not sacrifice.* The
propriety of the word proverbial is not the thing in-
sisted upon, though, I think, the manner of speak-
ing is to be called so. But that the manner of speak-
ing very remarkably renders the determination ge-
neral, is surely indisputable. For, had it, in the
latter case, been said only, that God preferred mercy
to the rigid observance of the Sabbath, even then,
by parity of reason, most justly might we have ar-
gued, that he preferred mercy, likewise, to the ob-
servance of other ritual institutions, and, in general,
moral duties to positive ones. And thus the deter-

 

* Matt, ix. 13. xii. 7.

357

mination would have been general, though its being
so were inferred, and not expressed. But as the
passage really stands in the gospel, it is much
stronger; for the sense, and the very literal words
of our Lord’s answer, are as applicable to any other
instance of a comparison between positive and moral
duties, as to this upon which they were spoken. And
if, in case of competition, merey is to be preferred to
positive Institutions, it will scarce be thought, that
justice is to give place to them. It is remarkable,
too, that, as the words are a quotation from the Old
Testament, they are introduced, on both the fore-
mentioned occasions, with a declaration, that the Pha-
risces did not understand the meaning of them.
This, I say, is very remarkable; for, since it is scarce
possible for the most ignorant person not to under-
stand the literal sense of the passage in the Prophet, *
and since understanding the literal sense would not
have prevented their condemning the guiltless,t it can
hardly be doubted, that the thing which our Lord
really intended in that declaration was, that the Pha-
risees had not learned from it, as they might, wherein
the general spirit of religion consists ; that it consists
in moral piety and virtue, as distinguished from forms
and ritual observances, However, it is certain we
may learn this from his divine application of the pas-
sage in the gospel.

But, as it is one of the peculiar weaknesses of
human nature, when, upon a comparison of two
things, one is found to be of greater importance than
the other, to consider this other as of scarce any im-

 

* Hosea vi. + Matt. xii. 7.

 
358

portance at all; it is highly necessary that we remind
ourselves, how great presumption it is to make light
of any institutions of divine appointment ; that our
obligations to obey all God’s commands whatever,
are absolute and indispensable ; and that commands

CHAP. 1L

 

 

 

HE
ea a

i

a

Of the supposed Presumption against a Revelation,
considered as miraculous.

 

 

o

aE
RT Si ag

a
Ra aa a

4
8
LE
Fs

Hi

gl

RE

aT

merely positive, admitted to be from him, lay us un-
der a moral obligation to obey them; an obligation
moral in the strictest and most proper sense.

To these things I cannot forbear adding, that the
account now given of Christianity, most strongly
shows and enforces upon us the obligation of search-
ing the Scriptures, in order to see what the scheme
of revelation really is, instead of determining before-
hand, from reason, what the scheme of it must be.*
Indeed, if in revelation there be found any passages,
the seeming meaning of which is contrary to natural
religion, we may most certainly conclude such seen1-
ing meaning not to be the real one. But it is not
any degree of a presumption against an Interpreta-
tion of Scripture, that such interpretation contains a
doctrine which the light of nature cannot discover, t
or a precept, which the law of nature does not

oblige to.

 

* Chap. 3. + Pages 360, 361.

Having shown the importance of the Christian
revelation, and the obligations which we are under
seriously to attend to it, upon supposition of its
truth or its credibility ; the next thing in order is, to
consider the supposed presumptions against revela-
tion in general; which shall be the subject of this
chapter; and the objections against the Christian in
particular, which shall be the subject of some follow-
ing ones. For it seems the most natural method
to remove these prejudices against Christianity, be-
fore we proceed to the consideration of the positive
evidence for it, and the objections against that evi-
dence.+

It is, I think, commonly supposed, that there is
some peculiar presumption, from the analogy of na-
ture, against the Christian scheme of things, at least
against miracles; so as that stronger evidence is ne-
cessary to prove the truth and reality of them, than
would be sufficient to convince us of other events or
matters of fact. Indeed, the consideration of this
supposed presumption cannot but be thought very
insignificant by many persons; yet as it belongs to
the subject of this treatise, so it may tend to open
the mind, and remove some prejudices, however

 

* Chap. 3, 4, 5, 6 + Chap. 7.

 
 

 

 

 

360

needless the consideration of it be, upon its own ac-
count.

I. I find no appearance of a presumption, from
the analogy of nature, against the general scheme of
Christianity, that God created and invisibly governs
the world by Jesus Christ, and by him also will
hereafter judge it in righteousness, that is, render to
every one according to his works; and that good men
are under the secret influence of his Spirit. Whether
these things are, or are not, to be called miraculous,
is, perhaps, only a question about words; or, how-
ever, is of no moment in the case. If the analogy
of nature raises any presumption against this general
scheme of Christianity, it must be, either because it
is not discoverable by reason or experience, or else
because it is unlike that course of nature, which is.

But analogy raises no presumption against the truth
of this scheme, upon either of these accounts.

1st, There is no presumption, from analogy,
against the truth of it, upon account of its not being
discoverable by reason or experience. For, suppose
one who never heard of revelation, of the most im-
proved understanding, and acquainted with our whole
system of natural philosophy and natural religion,
such a one could not but be sensible, that it was but
a very small part of the natural and moral system of
the universe, which he was acquainted with. He
could not but be sensible, that there must be innu-
merable things in the dispensations of Providence
past, in the invisible government over the world at
present carrying on, and in what is to come, of which
he was wholly ignorant,* and which could not be

 

* Pages 313, 314.

361

discovered without revelation. Whether the scheme
of nature be, in the strictest sense, infinite or not. jt
is evidently vast, even beyond all possible ima ir
tion. And, doubtless, that part of it which 4 en
to our view, is but as a point in comparison of p
whole plan of Providence, reaching throughout eter-
nity, past and future; in comparison of what is even
now going on in the remote parts of the boundless
universe : nay, in comparison of the whole scheme of
this world. And, therefore, that things lie beyond
the natural reach of our faculties, is no sort of : re-
sumption against the truth and reality of them ; Jie
cause it is certain, there are innumerable ings in
the constitution and government of the tiers
which are thus beyond the natural reach of our fen
ties. 2d, Analogy raises no presumption against
any of the things contained in this general doctrine
of Scripture now mentioned, upon account of their
being unlike the known course of nature. For there
1s no presumption at all, from analogy, that the whole
course of things, or divine government, naturally un-
known to us, and every thing in it, is like to an
thing in that which is known; and therefore no —
culiar presumption against any thing in the former
upon account of its being unlike to any thing in die
latter. And in the constitution and natural govern-
ment of the world, as well as in the moral covernment
of it, we see things, in a great degree, like one
another; and therefore ought not to wonder at such
unlikeness between things visible and invisible
However, the scheme of Christianity is by no won
entirely unlike the scheme of nature; as will appear
in the following part of this treatise. 2

Q 17

 
 

 

 

 

 

362

The notion of a miracle, considered as a proof of
a divine mission, has been stated with great uae.
ness by divines; and is, I think, sey under-
stood by every one. There are also invisible me.
cles: the incarnation of Christ, for jee w 2 b
being secret, cannot be alleged as a proof o os a
mission; but require themselves to be prove y
visible miracles. Revelation itself, too, is miracu-
lous, and miracles are the proof of it; and i
posed presumption against these shall prasently ye
considered. All which I have been observing ere
is, that, whether we choose to call every it
the dispensations of Providence, not discovera :
without revelation, nor like the known oe o
things, miraculous ; and whether the gaol fe
tian dispensation now mentioned, is to be ca 8! $0,
or not; the foregoing observations seem os to
show, that there is no presumption against it, from
the analogy of nature. Ee:
II. There is no presumption, from analogy, Bains
some operations, which we should now call en
lous; particularly, none against a revelation, a ih
beginning of the world ; nothing of oh presi Bo
against it, as is supposed to be impliec or expr :
in the word miraculous. For a miracle, in its v >
notion, is relative to a course of nature ; and imp ies
somewhat different from it, considered as being p
Now, either there was no course of nature $e
time which we are speaking of; or, if there Ww 2
we are not acquainted what the course of pus »
upon the first peopling of worlds. Ans ome! oe
the question, whether mankind had a reve jun) :
to them at that time, is to be considered, not as

363

question concerning a miracle, but as a common
question of fact. And we have the like reason, be
it more or less, to admit the report of tradition, con-
cerning this question, and concerning common mat-
ters of fact of the same antiquity ; for instance, what
part of the earth was first peopled.

Or thus: When mankind was first placed in this
state, there was a power exerted, totally different
from the present course of nature. Now, whether
this power, thus wholly different from the present
course of nature, for we cannot properly apply to it
the word miraculous ; whether "this power stopped
immediately after it had made man, or went on, and
exerted itself farther in giving him a revelation, is a
question of the same kind, as whether an ordinary
power exerted itself in such a particular degree and
manner, or not.

Or suppose the power exerted in the formation of
the world, be considered as miraculous, or rather, be
called by that name, the case will not be different ;
since it must be acknowledged, that such a power
was exerted. For, supposing it acknowledged that
our Saviour spent some years in a course of working
miracles ; there is no more presumption, worth men-
tioning, against his having exerted this miraculous
power, in a certain degree greater, than in a certain
degree less; in one or two more instances, than in
one or two fewer; in this, than in another manner.

It is evident, then, that there can be no peculia
presumption, from the analogy of nature, against
supposing a revelation, when man was first placed
upon the earth.

Add, that there does not appear the least intima-
Q2

YS a Be

a

 
 

 

 

 

364

tion in history or tradition, that religion was first
reasoned out; but the whole of history and tradition
makes for the other side, that it came into the world
by revelation. Indeed, the state of religion in the
first ages, of which we have any account, So to
suppose and imply, that this was the original 2 it
amongst mankind. And these reflections, toget wer,
without taking in the peculiar authority of Scripture,
amount to real and a very material degree of evi-
dence, that there was a revelation at the beginning
of the world. Now this, as it is a confirmation of
natural religion, and therefore mentioned in the for-
mer part of this treatise; ™ so, likewise, it has a ten-
dency to remove any prejudices against a subsequent
revelation. :
III. But still it may be objected, that there is
some peculiar presumption, from analog , against
miracles ; particularly against revelation, after the
settlement and during the continuance of a course of
nature. :
Now, with regard to this supposed presumption,
it is to be observed in general, that before we can
have ground for raising what can, with any propriety,
be called an argument from analogy, for or against
revelation considered as somewhat miraculous, we
must be acquainted with a similar or parallel case.
But the history of some other world, seemingly in
like circumstances with our own, is no more than a
parallel case; and therefore nothing short of this can
be so. Yet, could we come at a presumptive proof,
for or against a revelation, from being informed

 

 

* Page 304, &c.

365

whether such world had one, or not; such a proof,
being drawn from one single instance only, must be
infinitely precarious. More particularly : First of
all, There is a very strong presumption against com-
mon speculative truths, and against the most ordi-
nary facts, before the proof of them; which yet is
overcome by almost any proof. There is a presump-
tion of millions to one, against the story of Cesar, or
of any other man. For suppose a number of common
facts so and so circumstanced, of which one had no
kind of proof, should happen to come into one’s
thoughts ; every one would, without any possible
doubt, conclude them to be false. And the like
may be said of a single common fact. And from
hence it appears, that the question of importance, as
to the matter before us, is, concerning the degree of
the peculiar presumption supposed against miracles ;
not whether there be any peculiar presumption at all
against them. For, if there be the presumption of
millions to one, against the most common facts, what
can a small presumption, additional to this, amount
to, though it be peculiar? It cannot be estimated,
and is as nothing. The only material question is,
whether there be any such presumption against mira-
cles, as to render them in any sort incredible ?
Secondly, if we leave out the consideration of religion,
we are in such total darkness, upon what causes, oc-
casions, reasons, or circumstances, the present course
of nature depends, that there does not appear any
improbability for or against supposing, that five or
six thousand years may have given scope for causes,
occasions, reasons or circumstances, from whence
miraculous interpositions may have arisen. And

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

Tc

ep
oes

RSET RE ET

i

366

from this, joined with the foregoing observation, it
will follow, that there must be a presumption, be-
yond all comparison greater, against the particular
common facts just now instanced in, than against
miracles in general ; before any evidence of either.
But, thirdly, Take in the consideration of religion,
or the moral system of the world, and then we see
distinct particular reasons for miracles; to afford
mankind instruction additional to that of nature, and
to attest the truth of it. And this gives a real cre-
dibility to the supposition, that it might be part of
the original plan of things, that there should be
miraculous interpositions. Then, lastly, Miracles
must not be compared to common natural events; or,
to events which, though uncommon, are similar to
what we daily experience ; but to the extraordinary
phenomena of nature. And then the comparison will
be between the presumption against miracles, and
the presumption against such uncommon appear-
ances, suppose, as comets, and against their being
any such powers in nature as magnetism and clec-
tricity. so contrary to the properties of other bodies
not endued with these powers. And before any
one can determine, whether there be any peculiar
presumption against miracles, more than against
other extraordinary things, he must consider, what,
upon first hearing, would be the presumption against
the last-mentioned appearances and powers, to a per-
son acquainted only with the daily, monthly, and
annual course of nature respecting this earth, and
with those common powers of matter which we every
day see.

Upon all this I conclude, That there certainly 1s

367

no such presumption against miracles, as to rend
them in anywise incredible; that, on the oa :
our being able to discern reasons for them a
positive credibility to the history of them a ,
where those reasons hold ; and that it is Hs
ran Eo there is any peculiar presumption at all,
gy even in the lowest deoree, against mi-

racles, as distinguished from other ont " ho
nomena; though it i i WE

; though it is not worth while to perplex th

reader with inquiries into the abstract a fe i
dence, in order to determine a question, hh,
s

without such inquiri
1quiries, we see* i > .
S
tance. of no 1mpor-

* Page 337, &c.

 
 

aii
fis
i
Bo
a

HO

368

CHAP. IIL

Of our incapacity of judging, what were to be ex-
pected in a revelation ; and the credibility, from
analogy, that it must coniain things appearing

liable to objections.

Besipes the objections against the evidence for
Christianity, many are alleged against the scheme
of it; against the whole manner in which it is put
and left with the world, as well as against several
particular relations in Scripture: objections drawn
from the deficiencies of revelation; from things in
it appearing to men foolishness :* from its contain-
ing matters of offence, which have led, and it must
have been foreseen would lead, into strange enthu-
siasm and superstition, and be made to serve the
purposes of tyranny and wickedness; from its not
being universal ; and, which is a thing of the same
kind, from its evidence not being so convincing and
satisfactory as it might have been; for this last is
sometimes turned into a positive argument against
its truth.t It would be tedious, indeed impossible,
to enumerate the several particulars comprehended
under the objections here referred to, they being so
various according to the different fancies of men.
There are persons who think it a strong objection
against the authority of Scripture, that it is not
composed by rules of art, agreed upon by critics,

 

* 1 Cor. i. 28. 4 Chap. 6.

369

for polite and correct writing. And the scorn i
inexpressible, with which some of the prophetic i
of Scripture are treated; partly through the DS
ness of interpreters, but very much also on wat t
of the hieroglyphical and figurative language :
which they are left us. Some of hr rnc "
things of this sort shall be particularly A
the following Chapters. But my design at ian
is to observe, in general, with respect to thie whol
way of arguing, that, upon supposition of a ol
tion, it is highly credible beforehand, we should be
incompetent judges of it, to a great degree; od
that it would contain many things ape riag th
liable to great objections, in case io judge of it oth
wise than by the analogy of nature. And, th ee
fore, though objections against the i
Christianity are most seriously to be considered, vet
objections against Christianity itself are, in a 2
measure, frivolous ; almost all Shjeitions ain it
excepting those which are alleged andlurt tlie a
ticular proofs of its coming fiom God. I ex ?
myself with caution, lest I should be ke
vilify reason, which is indeed the only facut ve
have wherewith to judge concerning any shin Sn
revelation itself; or be wisunderstacd to a that
4 supposed revelation cannot be proved false from
internal characters. For, it may contain clear im-
moralities or contradictions; and either of these
would prove it false. Nor will I take upon me to
affirm, that nothing else can possibly render an
supposed revelation incredible. Yet still the Tes
vation above is, I think, true beyond doubt dat
objections against Christianity, as sttngaiched fons

Q3

 
370 371

would have been expected ; and such as, men fancy,
there lie great objections against. This renders it
beforehand highly credible, that they may find the
revealed dispensation likewise, if they judge of it as
they do of the constitution of nature, very different
from expectations formed beforehand; and liable, in
appearance, to great objections; objections against

objections against its evidence, are frivolous. To
make out this, is the genera! design of the present
Chapter. And, with regard to the whole of 5
cannot but particularly wish, that the proofs might
be attended to, rather than the assertions cavilled at,
upon account of any unacceptable consequences,
whether real or supposed, which may be drawn from

them. Tor, after all, that which is true, must he the scheme itself, and against the degrees and man-
admitted; though it should show us the shortness 0 ners of the miraculous interpositions by which it was
our faculties, and that we are in nowise judges of attested and carried on. Thus, suppose a prince
many things, of which we are apt to think ourselves to govern his dominions in the wisest manner pos-
C ov? . 4 . .
very competent ones. Nor will this be any objec- sible, by common known laws; and that upon some
tion with reasonable men; at least, upon second exigencies he should suspend these laws, and govern,
thought, it will not be any objection with such, in several instances, in a different manner: If one
Oo . » . raf: p— pr 1 oot oY 3 ~—
against the justness of the following observations of his subjects were not a competent judge before
As God coverns the world, and instructs his crea- hand, by what common rules the government should
4 5 : : 5 . .
tures, according to certain laws or rules, in the or would be carried on, it could not be expected,
known course of nature, known by reason together that the same person would be a competent judge,
with experience; so the Scripture informs us of a in what exigencies, or in what manner, or to what
scheme of divine Providence, additional to this. It degree, those laws commonly observed would be sus-
relates, that God has, by revelation, instructed men pended or deviated from.
C De . . . . . Sin .
in things concerning his government, which they of the wisdom of the ordinary administration, there
could not otherwise have known, and reminded them is no reason to think he would be a judge of the
of things which they might otherwise know; and at- wisdom of the extraordinary. If he thought he
n : > . . . - -
testa hie truth of the whole by miracles. Now, had objections against the former, doubtless, it is
if the natural and the revealed dispensation of things highly supposable, he might think also, that he had
are both from God, if they coincide with each i AR wl 0 Joe. : And dus as we fall
: drovidenc to infinite follies and mistakes, whenever we pre-
: s ne scheme of Providence, into infini > p
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tend, otherwise than from experience and analogy,
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of the other. Since, upon experience, the acknow- it is evidently supposable beforehand, that we should
ledred constitution and course of nature is found to fall into as great, in pretending to judge, in like
3

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372

more ground to expect that this latter should appear
to us clear of objections, than that the former
d. ;
A observations relating to the whole of Chris-
tianity, are applicable to inspiration in particular.
As we are in no sort judges beforehand, by what
laws or rules, in what degree, or by what means, it
were to have been expected that God would natu-
rally instruct us; so, upon supposition of his afford-
ing us light and instruction by revelation, additional
to what he has afforded us by reason and experience,
we are in no sort judges, by what methods, and in
what proportion, it were to be expected, that this
supernatural light and instruction would be afforded
us. We know not beforehand, what degree or kind
of natural information, it were to be expected God
would afford men, each by his own reason and ex-
perience ; nor how far he would enable, and effectu-
ally dispose them to communicate it, whatever it
should be, to each other; nor whether the evidence
of it would be certain, highly probable, or doubtful
nor whether it would be given with equal clearness
and conviction to all. Nor could we guess, upon
any good ground, I mean, whether natural know-
ledge, or even the faculty itself by which we are ca-
pable of attaining it, reason, would be given us at
once, or gradually. In like manner, we are wholly
ignorant what degree of new knowledge, it were to
be expected, God would give mankind by revelation,
upon supposition of his affording one ; or how far,
or in what way, he would interposc miraculously, to
qualify them, to whom he should originally make the
revelation, for communicating the knowledge given

373

by it; and to secure their doing it to the age in
which they should live; and to secure its being
transmitted to posterity. We are equally ignorant,
whether the evidence of it would be certain, or highly
probable, or doubtful ;* or whether all who should
have any degree of instruction from it, and any de-
‘sree of evidence of its truth, would have the same: or
whether the scheme would be revealed at once, or un-
folded gradually. Nay, we are not in any sort able to
judge, whether it were to have been expected, that
the revelation should have been committed to writ-
ing; or left to be handed down, and consequently
corrupted by verbal tradition, and at length sunk
under it, if mankind so pleased, and during such
time as they are permitted, in the degree they evi-
dently are, to act as they will.

But it may be said, ¢ that a revelation in some of
the above-mentioned circumstances, one, for instance,
which was not committed to writing, and thus se-
cured against danger of corruption, would not have
answered its purpose.” I ask, what purpose ? It
would not have answered all the purposes which it
has now answered, and in the same degree; but it
would have answered others, or the same in different
degrees. And which of these were the purposes of
God, and best fell in with his general government,
we could not at all have determined beforehand.

Now, since it has been shown, that we have no
principles of reason upon which to judge before-
hand, how it were to be expected revelation should
have been left, or what was most suitable to the

 

* See Chap. 6.

 
 

374

divine plan of government, in any of the fore-men-
tioned respects; it must be quite frivolous to object
afterwards as to any of them, against its beirg left
in one way rather than another; for this wouid be to
object against things, upon account of their being
different from expectations, which have been shown
to be without reason. And thus we see, that the
only question concerning the truth of Christianity
is, whether it be a real revelation; not whether it
be attended with every circumstance which we should
have looked for: and concerning the authority of
Scripture, whether it be what it claims to be; not
whether it be a book of such sort, and so promulged,
as weak men are apt to fancy a book containing a
divine revelation should. And therefore, neither
obscurity, nor seeming inaccuracy of style, nor vari-
ous readings, nor early disputes about the authors
of particular parts, nor any other things of the like
kind, though they had been much morc considerable
in degree than they are, could overthrow the autho-
rity of the Scripture; unless the Prophets, Apostles,
or our Lord, had promised, that the book, contain-
ing the divine revelation, should be secure from
those things. Nor indeed can any objections over-
throw such a kind of revelation as the Christian
claims to be, since there are no objections against
the morality of it,* but such as can show, that there
is no proof of miracles wrought originally in attesta-
tion of it; no appearance of any thing miraculous in
its obtaining in the world; nor any of prophecy,
that is, of events foretold, which human sagacity

 

* Page 380, &c.

375

could not foresee. If it can be shown, that the
proof alleged for all these, is absolutely none at all,
then is revelation overturned. But were it allowed,
that the proof of any one, or all of them, is lower
than is allowed; yet, whilst any proof of them re-
mains, revelation will stand upon much the same foot-
ing it does at present, as to all the purposes of life
and practice, and ought to have the like influence
upon our behaviour.

Irom the foregoing observations, too, it will fol-
low, and those who will thoroughly examine into re-
velation will find it worth remarking, that there are
several ways of arguing, which, though just with re-
gard to other writings, are not applicable to Serip-
ture; at least not to the prophetic parts of it. We
cannot argue, for instance, that this cannot be the
sense or intent of such a passage of Scripture, for if
it had, it would have been expressed more plainly,
or have been represented under a more apt figure or
hieroglyphic; yet we may justly argue thus, with
respect to common books. And the reason of this
difference is very evident; that in Scripture we are
not competent judges, as we are in common books,
how plainly it were to have been expected, what is
the true sense should have been expressed, or under
how apt an image figured. The only question is,
what appearance there is that this is the sense? and
scarce at all, how much more determinately or accu-
rately it might have been expressed or figured ?

“ But is it not self-evident, that internal impro-
babilities of all kinds, weaken external probable
proof 7” Doubtless. But to what practical pur-
pose can this be alleged here, when it has been

 
376
proved before,* that real internal improbabilities,
which rise even to moral certainty, are overcome by
the most ordinary testimony? and when it now has
been made appear, that we scarce know what are im-
probabilities, as to the matter we are here consider-
ing? as will farther appear from what follows.

For though, from the observations above made,
it is manifest, that we are not in any sort competent
judges, what supernatural instruction were to have
been expected; and though it is self-evident, that
the objections of an incompetent judgment, must be
frivolous; yet it may be proper to go one step far-
ther, and observe, that if men will be regardless of
these things, and pretend to judge of the Scriptures
by preconceived expectations, the analogy of nature
shows beforehand, not only that it is highly credible
they may, but also probable that they will, imagine
they have strong objections against it, however really
unexceptionable: for so, prior to experience, they
would think they had, against the circumstances, and
degrees, and the whole manner of that instruction,
which is afforded by the ordinary course of nature.
Were the instruction which God affords to brute
creatures by instincts and mere propensions, and to
mankind by these together with reason, matter of
probable proof, and not of certain observation, it
would be rejected as incredible, in many instances of
it, only upon account of the means by which this in-

struction is given, the seeming disproportions, the
limitations, necessary conditions, and circumstances,
of it. For instance: would it not have been thought
highly improbable, that men should have been =o

 

®* Page 364, &c.

377

much more capable of discovering, even to certainty,
the general laws of matter, and the magnitudes,
paths, and revolutions of the heavenly bodies; than
the occasions and cures of distempers, and many other
things, in which human life seems so much more
nearly concerned, than in astronomy? How capri-
cious and irregular a way of information, would it
be said, is that of invention, by means of which na-
ture instructs us in matters of science, and in many
things upon which the affairs of the world greatly
depend; that a man should, by this faculty, be made
acquainted with a thing in an instant, when, perhaps,
he is thinking of somewhat else, which he has in
vain been searching after, it may be, for years. So
likewise the imperfections attending the only method,
by which nature enables and directs us to communi-
cate our thoughts to each other, are innumerable.
Language is in its very nature, inadequate, ambigu-
ous, liable to infinite abuse, .even from negligence;
and so liable to it from design, that every man can
deceive and betray by it. And, to mention but one
instance more, that brutes without reason, should
act, in many respects, with a sagacity and foresight
vastly greater than what men have in those respects,
would be thought impossible. ~ Yet it is certain they
do act with such superior foresight: whether it be
their own, indeed, is another question. From these
things it is highly credible beforehand, that upon
supposition God should afford men some additional
instruction by revelation, it would be with circum-
stances in manners, degrees, and respects which we
should be apt to fancy we had great objections against
the credibility of. Nor are the objections against,

 
 

 

 

 

378

the Scripture, nor against Christianity in general,
at all more or greater than the analogy of nature
would beforehand,—not perhaps give ground to
expect; for this analogy may not be sufficient, in
some cases, to ground an expectation upon ;—but no
more nor greater, than analogy would show it, be-
forehand, to be supposable and credible, that there
might seem to lie against revelation.

By applying these general observations to a par-
ticular objection, it will be more distinctly seen, how
they are applicable to others of the like kind; and
indeed to almost all objections against Christianity,
as distinguished from objections against its evidence.
It appears from Scripture, that as it was not unusual,
in the apostolic age, for persons, upon their conver-
sion to Christianity, to be endued with miraculous
gifts; so, some of those persons exercised these gifts

in a strangely irregular and disorderly manner: and

this is made an objection against their being really
miraculous. Now the foregoing observations quite
remove this objection, how considerable soever it may
appear at first sight. For, consider a person en-
dued with any of these gifts, for instance, that of
tongues; it is to be supposed that he had the same
power over this miraculous gift as he would have had
over it, had it been the effect of habit, of study, and
use, as it ordinarily is; or the same power over it,
as he had over any other natural endowment. Con-
sequently, he would use it in the same manner he
did any other; either regularly and upon proper oc-
casions only, or irregularly and upon improper ones;
according to his sense of decency, and his character
of prudence. Where, then, is the objection? Why,

379

if this miraculous power was indeed given to the
world to propagate Christianity, and attest the truth of
it, we might, it seems, have expected, that other sort
of persons should have been chosen to be invested
with it; or that these should at the same time, have
been endued with prudence; or, that they should
have been continually restrained, and directed in the
exercise of it: that is, that God should have miracu-
lously interposed, if at all, in a different manner or
higher degree. But, from the observations made
above, it is undeniably evident, that we are not judges
in what degrees and nianners it were to have been
expected he should miraculously interpose ; upon
supposition of his doing it in some degree and man-
ner. Nor, in the natural course of Providence, are
superior gifts of memory, eloquence, knowledge, and
other talents of great influence, conferred only on
persons of prudence and decency, or such as are dis-
posed to make the properest use of them. Nor is
the instruction and admonition naturally afforded us
for the conduct of life, particularly in our education,
commonly given in a manner the most suited to re-
commend it; but often with circumstances apt to
prejudice us against such instruction.

One might go on to add, that there is a great re-
semblance between the light of nature and of revela-
tion, in several other respects. Practical Christian-
ity, or that faith and behaviour which renders a man
a Christian, is a plain and obvious thing; like the com-
mon rules of conduct, with respect to our ordinary
temporal affairs. The more distinct and particular
knowledge of those things, the study of which the
apostle calls ¢ going on unto perfection,” and of

 
 

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380

the prophetic parts of revelation, like many parts of
natural and even civil knowledge, may require very
exact thought and careful consideration. The hin-
drances, too, of natural and of supernatural light and
knowledge, have been of the same kind. And as it
is owned, the whole scheme of Scripture 1s not yet
understood, so, if it ever comes to be understood be-
fore the © restitution of all things,” and without
miraculous interpositions, it must be in the same way
as natural knowledge is come at; by the continu-
ance and progress of learning and of liberty, and by
particular persons attending to, comparing, and pur-
suing, intimations scattered up and down it, which
are overlooked and disregarded by the generality of
the world. For this is the way in which all im-
provements are made; by thoughtful men tracing on
obscure hints, as it were, dropped us by nature acci-
dentally, or which seem to come into our minds by
chance. Nor is it at all incredible, that a book
which has been so long in the possession of mankind,
should contain many truths as yet undiscovered.
For, all the same phenomena, and the same faculties
of investigation, from which such great discoveries
in natural knowledge have been made in the present
and last age, were equally in the possession of man-
kind several thousand years before. And possibly
it might be intended, that events, as they come to
pass, should open and ascertain the meaning of seve-
ral parts of Scripture.

It may be ieond, that this analogy fails in a
material respect; for that natural knowledge is of
little or no consequence. But I have been speak-
ing of the general instruction, which nature does or

381

does not afford us. And, besides, some parts of .
natural knowledge, in the more common restrained
sense of the words, are of the greatest consequence
to the ease and convenience of life. But suppose
the analogy did, as it does not, fail in this respect,
yet it might be abundantly supplied from the whole
constitution and course of nature; which shows that
God does not dispense his gifts according to our no-
tions of the advantage and consequence they would
be of to us. And this in general, with his method
of dispensing knowledge in particular, would together
make out an analogy full to the point before us.

But it may be objected still farther, and more
generally—¢ The Scripture represents the world as
in a state of ruin, and Christianity as an expedient
to recover it, to help in these respects where nature
fails; in particular, to supply the deficiencies of na-
tural light. Is it credible, then, that so many ages
should have been let pass, before a matter of such a
sort, of so great and so general importance, was made
known to mankind; and then that it should be made
known to so small a part of them? Is it conceiv-
able, that this supply should be so very deficient,
should have the like obscurity and doubtfulness, be
liable to the like perversions; in short, lie open to all
the like objections, as the light of nature itself ?”*
Without determining how far this in fact is so, 1 -
answer, it is by no means incredible that it might be
so, if the light of nature and of revelation be from
the same hand. Men are naturally liable to dis-
eases; for which God, in his good providence, has
provided natural remedies.} But remedies existing

* Chap. 6 + Chap. 5.

 
 

 

 

4
i
i
8
1

 

 

382

in nature have been unknown to mankind for many
ages; are known but to few now; probably many
valuable ones are not known yet. Great has been,
and is, the obscurity and difficulty, in the nature and
application of them. Circumstances seem often to
make them very improper, where they are absolutely
necessary. It 1s after long labour and study, and
many unsuccessful endeavours, that they are brought
to be as useful as they are; after high contempt and
absolute rejection of the most useful we have; and
after disputes and doubts, which have seemed to be
endless. The best remedies, too, when unskilfully,
much more if dishonestly, applied, may produce new
diseases; and, with the rightest application, the
success of them is often doubtful. In many cases,
they are not at all effectual ; where they are, it is
often very slowly: and the application of them, and
the necessary regimen accompanying it, 15% not un-
commonly, so disagreeable, that some will not sub-
mit to them; and satisfy themselves with the excuse,
that if they would, it is not certain whether it would
be successful. And many persons, who labour un-
der diseases, for which there are known natural re-
medies, are not so happy as to be always, if ever,
in the way of them. In a word, the remedies which
nature has provided for diseases, are neither certain,
perfect, nor universal. And indeed the same prin-
ciples of arguing, which would lead us to conclude,
that they must be so, would lead us likewise to con-
clude, that there could be no occasion for them;
that is, that there could be no diseases at all. : And,
therefore, our experience that there are diseases,

shows, that it is credible beforehand, upon suppost-

383

tion nature has provided remedies for them, that
these remedies may be, as by experience we find
they are, not certain, nor perfect, nor universal ;
because it shows, that the principles upon which we
should expect the contrary are fallacious.

And now, what is the Just consequence from all
these things? Not that reason is no judge of what
is offered to us as being of divine revelation. For,
this would be to infer, that we are unable to judge
of any thing, because we are unable to judge of all
things. Reason can, and it ought to judge, not
only of the meaning, but also of the morality and
the evidence, of revelation. First, It is the pro-
vince of reason to judge of the morality of the Scrip-
ture; that is, not whether it contains things differ-
ent from what we should have expected from a wise,
just, and good Being; for objections from hence
have been now obviated; but whether it contains
things plainly contradictory to wisdom, justice, or
goodness ; to what the light of nature teaches us of
God. And I know nothing of this sort objected
against Scripture, excepting such objections as are
formed upon suppositions, which would equally con-
clude, that the constitution of nature is contradic-
tory to wisdom, justice, or goodness; which most
certainly it is not. Indeed, there are some particu-
lar precepts in Scripture, given to particular persons,
requiring actions which would be immoral and vicious,

were it not for such precepts. But it is easy to see,

that all these are of such a kind as that the precept
changes the whole nature of the case and of the
action; and both constitutes and shows that not to
be unjust or immoral, which, prior to the precept,

Fi

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BIH gh se ht A

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384

must have appeared and really have bees so hh
may well be, since none of these precepts are : :
trary to immutable morality. If it were See }
1 it o
to cultivate the principles, and os from the Tn
i i uelty ; the comman
treachery, ingratitude, cr woul
not iy the nature of the case, or of the action, in
any of these instances. But it is gis ite a
1 1 ex
ic squire only the doing an
recepts, which requi oe
WA ; for instance, taking away foe Pre yo
i ¢ have no right to ei
life of any. For men :
or property, but what arises solely from the gem
of Go: when this grant is revoked, a= 0
: in el y evo-
i ither; and when this r
have any right at all in e nd Myson
ion 1 m, as surely it is possible 1t may
cation is made known, as 1 Xi
be. it must cease to be unjust to deprive them of
th And though a course of external acts,
either. n g 2
which without command would be jm, m
make an immoral habit, yet a few Tae on
T a
mands have no such natural tendency. 1 though
roper to say thus much of the few Scripture pre-
oe p which require not vicious actions, but he
: . . ; ,
a would have been vicious had it not been 9
1 weakly
: : -ause they are sometimes
such precepts; becau ‘ ap
i -al, and great weight is laid uj
urged as immoral, g opm oe
t to me there
ject lrawn from them. Bu :
A in th p but what arises
1 recepts,
difficulty at all in these p 3 a7
fre ir bel Fences: that is, from their being
from their being oftences;
liable to be perverted, as indeed they oe y fe
designing men, to serve the rt hor Turpeem
® ] reak enthusiastic.
Jead the weak anc :
and, perhaps, to mis :
ah from this head, are ns Sonar
] / notio
i relat but against the whole
against revelation, % Re
religion, as a trial; and against the g

385

tution of nature. Secondly, Reason is able to judge,
and must, of the evidence of revelation, and of the
objections urged against that evidence; which shall
be the subject of a following Chapter. *

But the consequence of the foregoing observa-
tions is, that the question upon which the truth of
Christianity depends, is scarce at all, what objec-
tions there are against its scheme, since there are

none against the morality of it; but what objections

there are against its evidence : or, what proof there
remains of it, after due allowances made for the ob-
jections against that proof: because it has been
shown, that the objections against Christianity, as
distinguished from objections against its evidence,
are frivolous. For surely very little weight, if any
at all, is to be laid upon a way of arguing and ob-
jecting, which, when applied to the general consti-
tution of nature, experience shows not to be conclu-
sive: and such, I think, is the whole way of ob-
jecting treated of throughout this chapter. It is
resolvable into principles, and goes upon suppositions,
which mislead us to think, that the Author of nature
would not act, as we experience he does; or would

act, in such and such cases, as we experience he
does not in like cases.

But the unreasonableness
of this way of objecting will appear yet more evi-
dently from hence, that the chief things thus ob-
jected against, are justified, as shall be farther
shown,+ by distinct, particular, and full analogies,
in the constitution and course of nature.

But it is to be remembered, that as frivolous as

 

* Chap. 7. + Chap. 4, latter part; and 5, 6.

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386

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osed revelation is ug gon

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might have be

litical views.

he for ainst revelation
objections of the

suppose
are, yet, when a supj

387

CHAP. 1v.

OF Christianity, considered as a Scheme or Consti-
tution, imperfectly comprehended.

It hath been now shown, * that the analogy of
nature renders it highly credible beforehand, that,
supposing a revelation to be made, it must contain
many things very different from what we should have
expected, and such as appear open to great objec-
tions; and that this observation, in good measure,
takes off the force of those objections, or rather
precludes them. But it may be alleged, that this
is a very partial answer to such objections, or a very
unsatisfactory way of obviating them: because it
doth not show at all, that the things objected against
can be wise, Just, and good; much less, that it is
credible they are so. It will therefore be proper to
show this distinctly, by applying to these objections
against the wisdom, Justice, and goodness of Chris-
tianity, the answer above | given to the like objections
against the constitution of nature; before we con-
sider the particular analogies in the latter, to the
particular things objected against in the former.
Now, that which affords a sufficient answer to oh-
Jections against the wisdom, justice, and goodness of
the constitution of nature, is its being a constitution,
a system, or scheme, imperfectly comprehended; a

——

 

 

* In the foregoing Chapter.
t Part. i. Chap. 7. to which this all along refers.

R 2

 
 

 

 

388

scheme, in which means are made use of to accom-

plish ends; and which is carried on by general laws.
For, from these things it has been proved, not only
to be possible, but also to be credible, that those
things which are objected against, may be consistent
with wisdom, justice, and goodness; nay, may be
and even that the constitution

instances of them:
may be perfect in the

and government of nature
highest possible degree. If Christianity, then, be
kind, it is evident, the

a scheme, and of the like
admit of the like

like objections against it must
answer. And,

1. Christianity is a scheme quite beyond our
comprehension. "The moral government of God is
exercised, by gradually conducting things so in the
course of his providence, that every one, at length,
and upon the whole, shall receive according to his
deserts ; and neither fraud nor violence, but truth
and right, shall finally prevail. Christianity 1s a
particular scheme under this general plan of provi-
dence, and a part of it, conducive to its completion,
with regard to mankind: consisting itself also of
various parts, and a mysterious economy, which has
been carrying on from the time the world came Into
its present wretched state, and is still carrying on,
for its recovery, by a divine person, the Messiah;
« who is to gather together in one, the children of
God that are scattered abroad,” and establish ¢ an
everlasting kingdom, wherein dwelleth righteous-
ness.” And in order to it, after various manifesta-
tions of things, relating to this great and general
scheme of Providence, through a succession of many

ages ;—(* for the Spirit of Christ, which was in

389

the proph i
: P phets, testified beforehand his suffer
and the glory that should Ea
Yi ew ould follow: unto whom it was
,» that not unto th
emselves, b
re ne ; s but unto us
y did minister the things which ar
unto us by them whi 4 EG
om which have preached the gos
- things the angels desire to look i iy
a $ ook 1mto:”)—
he ous dispensations, looking forward and >
r $s . ; e
po d y i this final salvation, <in the Flees f
1 v -. . Te ; S
i w en infinite Wisdom thoucht fit He
eing in the form of God Wo :
en na od, made himself of no re
pt » and took upon him the form of a servant
: was ms 1 i Co
yy ak in the likeness of men; and bei :
in fashion as a ns
aa po he humbled himself, and
a :
Jos Salen oad ) even the death of the
od also h 1 1
I nate ath highly exalted him,
oF : a name which is above every nam
; . ” C el
wrt t le name of Jesus every knee should boy
iH i : 3 s v,
Wi : in heaven, and things in earth, and thi
wder the earth . TR ans
1e earth; and that every tongue sl i
fess, that Jesus Christ is Lord 08 Sing ome
‘ :
God the Father.” Parts lil oe a he Soup
| ! . ¢ ikewise o i y
Wi the miraculous mission of the H He
: » Ho
1s ordinary assis i F hey
g sistances y |
i Sh y es given to good men; the in-
me g nment which Christ at present exercis
r his c h; the i : =
ed ho that which he himself refers to in
7 «66
vi v a s, ¢ In my Father's house are many m
A : 1 an-
i £° to prepare a place for you;” and his
eturn to “jude in ri :
my ST j ow fe world in righteousness,”
re-establish the ki :
e kinodom of God
or the Father ij 3 pe
judgeth no man; but h
mitted all judg } Maa on
ment unto the S
g o the Son: th
Pi 5 : : that all men
onour the Son, even as they honour the

0

 
 

 

and in earth” ¢ And he must reign, till he hath
ut all enemies under his feet. Then cometh the
end, when he shall have delivered up the kingdom
to God, even the Father; when he shall have
at down all rule, and all authority, and power.
And when all things shall be subdued unto him,
then shall the Son also himself be subject unto him,
that put all things under him, that God may be all
in all.” Now little, surely, need be said to show,
that this system, or scheme of things, is but im-
perfectly comprehended by us. The Scripture ex-
pressly asserts it to be so. And indeed one cannot
read a passage relating to this ¢ great mystery of
godliness,” but what immediately runs up into
something which shows us our ignorance in it, as
every thing in nature shows us our ignorance in the
constitution of nature. And whoever will seriously
consider that part of the Christian scheme which is
revealed in Scripture, will find so much more unre-
vealed, as will convince him, that, to all the pur-
poses of judging and objecting, we know as little of
it, as of the constitution of nature. Our ignorance,
therefore, is as much an answer to our objections
against the perfection of one, as against the perfec-
tion of the other.*

II. It is obvious, too, that in the Christian dis-
pensation, as much as in the natural scheme of
things, means are made use of to accomplish ends.
And the observation of this furnishes us with the
same answer, to objections against the perfection
of Christianity, as to objections of the like kind,

————

* Page 307, &c.

391

against the constitution of nature. It shows the
srodililien, that the things objected against, how
Joolish* soever they appear to men, may be the ve
best means of accomplishing the very best oe
And their appearing foolishness is no presumptio ,
against this, in a scheme so greatly be we :
comprehension. + Ty ss
HL The credibility, that the Christian dispen-
sation may have been, all along, carried on b Po
neral laws, no less than the course of Si
require to be more distinctly made out. Consider
then, upon what ground it is we say, that the de
common course of nature is carried on according t
general fore-ordained laws. We know tdead, .
veral of the general laws of matter; i a oe
part of the natural behaviour of living agents 5 Py
ducible to general laws. But we WH a
ner, nothing, by what laws storms sl tem “ .
earthquakes, famine, pestilence, become the : " -
ments of destruction to mankind. And the I ce
by which persons born into the world at such a a
and place, are of such capacities, geniuses, tem oo
the laws, by which thoughts come into ee wi n
a multitude of cases; and by which Sirti
things happen, of the greatest influence upon the
affairs and state of the world; these laws are so
wholly unknown to us, that we call the events wich
come to pass by them, accidental; though all rea-
Wi men know certainly, that there cannot, in
ay be any such thing as chance; and conclude,
at the things which have this appearance, are the

—

* :
1 Cor. i. + Page 312. 1 Pages 313, 314.

 
 

 

 

392

result of general laws, and may be reduced into
them. It is then but an exceeding little way, and
in but a very few respects, that we can trace up the
natural course of things before us, to general laws.
And it is only from analogy, that we conclude the
whole of it to be capable of being reduced into
them; only from our seeing, that part is so. Itis
from our finding, that the course of nature, in some
respects and so far, goes on by general laws, that
we conclude this of the rest. And if that be a just
ground for such a conclusion, it is a just ground
also, if not to conclude, yet to apprehend, to ren-
der it supposable and credible, which is sufficient for
answering objections, that God’s miraculous inter-
positions may have been, all along, in like manner,
by general laws of wisdom. Thus, that miraculous
powers should be exerted at such times, upon such
occasions, in such degrees and manners, and with
regard to such persons, rather than others; that the
affairs of the world being permitted to go on In their
natural course so far, should just at such a point,
have a new direction given them by miraculous in-
terpositions; that these interpositions should be ex-
actly in such degrees and respects only; all this may
have been by general laws. These laws are un-
known, indeed, to us; but no more unknown than
the laws from whence it is, that some die as soon
as they are born, and others live to extreme old age,
that one man is so superior to another in under-
standing ; with innumerable more things, which, as
was before observed, we cannot reduce to any laws
or rules at all; though it is taken for granted, they

are as much reducible to general ones as gravitation.

393

Now, if the revealed dispensations of Provide
id ei interpositions, be by general oy
% Yollos oe Hi government in the Leite
ure, made known by reason and experience;
there 1s ho more reason to expect, that every hy
gence, as it arises, should be provided for b “th
general laws of miraculous interpositions di re
every exigence in nature should, by de . ho
laws of nature: yet there might be wise % 70 d
reasons, that miraculous interpositions should be .
fe Jaws; and that these laws should a J
. m upon, or deviated from, by other mira-
U
a fe Lp a
guls in nature, is owing to its

being a sc 1
g a scheme but in part made known, and of

su 1 ) S| -

course re S
se of nature should be such a scheme, than why
Christianity should. h

a And that the former is such
: ne, renders it credible, that the latter, upon
supposition of its truth, may be so too. And > it
is manifest, that Christianity is a scheme svesten
but in part, and a scheme in which means are Hy
use of to accomplish ends, like to that of il
$0 the credibility, that it may have been all Tr
carried on by general laws, no less than the ie
of nature, has been distinctly proved. And fr “
all this it is beforehand credible that there hy
think probable that there would, be the like 0 an
ance of deficiencies and irregularities in Chron.
in in nature ; that is, that Christianity would
e liable to the like objections, as the frame of na-
R 3

 
 

 

 

394

ture. And these objections are answered by these
observations concerning Christianity ; as the like
objections against the frame of nature, are answer-
ed by the like observations concerning the frame of
nature.

rs PP PE OPPS ELSES

THE objections against Christianity, considered
as a matter of fact,* having, in general, been obvi-
ated in the preceding chapter; and the same consi-
dered as made against the wisdom and goodness of
it, having been obviated in this; the next thing,
according to the method proposed, is to show, that
the principal objections, in particular, against Chris-
tianity, may be answered by particular and full ana-
logies in nature. And as one of them is made
against the whole scheme of it together, as just
now described, I choose to consider it here, rather
than in a distinct chapter by itself. The thing ob-
jected against this scheme of the gospel, is, That
it scems to suppose, God was reduced to the neces-
sity of a long series of intricate means, in order to
accomplish his ends, the recovery and salvation of
the world; in like sort as men, for want of under-
standing, or power, not being able to come at their
ends directly, are forced to go round-about ways,
and make use of many perplexed contrivances to ar-
rive at them.” Now, every thing which we see
shows the folly of this, considered as an objection
against the truth of Christianity. For, according
to our manner of conception, God makes use of va-

 

% Page 312.

395

riety of means, what we often think tedious ones
in the natural course of providence, for the OT
plishment of all his ends. Indeed, it is certain
there is somewhat in this matter quite beyond oi
comprehension; but the mystery is as great in na-
ture as in Christianity. We know what we our-
selves aim at as final ends; and what courses we
take, merely as means conducing to those ends.
But we are greatly ignorant how far things are con-
sidered by the Author of nature, under the single
notion of means and ends; so as that it may be said
this is merely an end, and that merely means, in his
regard. And whether there be not some peculiar
absurdity in our very manner of conception, con-
cerning this matter, somewhat contradictory, aris-
ing from our extremely imperfect views of things, it
is impossible to say. However, thus much os ma-
nifest, that the whole natural world and government
of it, is a scheme, or system; not a fixed, but a
progressive one: a scheme, in which the operation
of various means takes up a great length of time,
before the ends they tend to can be attained. The
change of seasons, the ripening of the fruits of the
earth, the very history of a flower, is an instance
of this; and so is human life. Thus vegetable bo-
So inet i though possibly formed
3 p by degrees to a mature state.
And thus rational agents who animate these latter
bodies, are naturally directed to form, each his own
manners and character, by the gradual gaining of
knowledge and experience, and by a long course of
action. Qur existence is not only successive, as it
must be of necessity, but one state of our life and

 

 
 

396

being is appointed by God to be a preparation for
another; and that, to be the means of attaining to
another succeeding one: Infancy to childhood ;
childhood to youth ; youth to mature age. Men
are impatient, and for precipitating things; but the
Author of nature appears deliberate throughout his
operations ; accomplishing his natural ends by slow
successive steps. And there is a plan of things be-
forehand laid out, which, from the nature of it, re-
quires various systems of means, as well as length
of time, in order to the carrying on its several parts
into execution. Thus, in the daily course of na-
tural providence, God operates in the very same
manner, as in the dispensation of Christianity,
making one thing subservient to another; this to
somewhat farther; and so on, through a progressive
series of means, which extend, both backward and
forward, beyond our utmost view. Of this manner
of operation, every thing we see in the course of
nature, is as much an instance, as any part of the
Christian dispensation.

397

CHAP. V.

of the particular System of Christianity ; the ap-
powmtment of a Mediator, and the R pti
the World by him. "apn

. :
| There is not, I think, any thing relating to
Christianity which has been more objected sgitist
than the mediation of Christ, in some or aber of
its parts. Yet, upon thorough consideration, there
seems nothing less justly Liable to it. For, :

: I. The whole analogy of nature removes all ima-
gined presumption against the general notion of «a
Mediator between God and man.” Tor we find
i iva Hpi are brought into the worid, aol

weir life in infancy is preserved, b i >
tality of others; . ho ys Bummin
way or other, is bestowed by the like ie So
that the visible government which God annie
over the world, is by the instrumentality and madine
tion of others. And how far his invisible GH
ment be, or be not so, it is impossible to detoriing
: vi by reason. And the supposition, that part of

Ss so, appears, to s: ast, :
dible % i na sb 4 te She ng
dbl, 10 sort of ob-
jection, from the light of nature, against the general
notion of a mediator between God and it, con-
sidered as a doctrine of Christianity, or as 0 ap-
pointment in this dispensation; since, we find by ~
perience, that God does appoint mediators, to be die
Instruments of good and evil to us, the instruments

li Bh ic A lb De

 
 

 

398

of his justice and his mercy. And the objection
here referred to is urged, not against mediation in
that high, eminent, and peculiar sense, in which
Christ is our mediator; but absolutely against the
whole notion itself of a mediator at all.

II. As we must suppose that the world is under
the proper moral government of God, or in a state
of religion, before we can enter into consideration of
the revealed doctrine concerning the redemption of
it by Christ; so that supposition is here to be dis-
tinctly taken notice of. Now, the divine moral go-
vernment which religion teaches us, implies, that the
consequence of vice shall be misery, in some future
state, by the righteous judgment of God. That
such consequent punishment shall take effect by his
appointment, is necessarily implied. But as it is
not in any sort to be supposed that we are made ac-
quainted with all the ends or reasons for which it is
fit future punishments should be inflicted, or why
God has appointed such and such consequent misery
should follow vice; and as we are altogether in the
dark, how or in what manner it shall follow, by what
immediate occasions, or by the instrumentality of
what means; there is no absurdity in supposing, it
may follow in a way analogous to that, in which
many miseries follow such and such courses of ac-
tion at present; poverty, sickness, infamy, untimely
death by diseases, death from the hands of civil jus-
tice. There is no absurdity in supposing future
punishment may follow wickedness of course, as we

speak, or in the way of natural consequence, from
God's original constitution of the world; from the
nature he has given us, and from the condition in

399

which he places us; or, in a like manner, as a per-
son rashly trifling upon a precipice, in the way of
natural consequence, falls down; in the way of na-
tural consequence, breaks his limbs, suppose; in
the way of natural consequence of this, without help
perishes. i
Some good men may, perhaps, be offended with
hearing it spoken of as a supposable thing, that the
future punishments of wickedness may be in the way
of natural consequence; as if this were taking the
execution of justice out of the hands of God and
giving it to nature. But they should remember, that
when things come to pass according to the course of
nature, this does not hinder them from being his do-
ing, who is the God of nature; and that the Scrip-
ture ascribes those punishments to divine justice
which are known to be natural; and which must he
called so, when distinguished from such as are mira-
culous, But, after all, this supposition, or rather
this way of speaking, is here made use of only by
way of illustration of the subject before us. For,
since it must be admitted, that the future punish-
ment of wickedness is not a matter of arbitrary ap-
pointment, but of reason, equity, and justice; it
comes, for aught I see, to the same thing, whether
it is supposed to be inflicted in a way analogous to
that in which the temporal punishments of ao and
folly are inflicted, or in any other way. And though
there were a difference, it is allowable in the pravent
case, to make this supposition, plainly not an in-
credible one, That future punishment may follow
wickedness in the way of natural consequence, or ac-

cording to some general laws of government already
established in the universe.

 
 

 

400

111. Upon this supposition, or even without it,
we may observe somewhat, much to the present pur-
pose, in the constitution of nature, or appointments
of Providence: the provision which is made, that all
the bad natural consequences of men’s actions should
not always actually follow; or, that such bad conse-
quences, as, according to the settled course of things,
would inevitably have followed, if not prevented,
should, in certain degrees, be prevented. We are

apt, presumptuously, to imagine, that the world

might have been so constituted, as that there would
not have been any such thing as misery or evil. On
the contrary, we find the Author of nature permits
it. But then, he has provided reliefs, and, in many
cases, perfect remedies for it, after some pains and
difficulties; reliefs and remedies even for that evil,
which is the fruit of our own misconduct; and which,
in the eourse of nature, would have continued, and
ended in our destruction, but for such remedies.
And this is an instance both of severity and of in-
dulgence, in the constitution of nature. Thus, all
the bad consequences, now mentioned, of a man
trifling upon a precipice, might be prevented. And,
though all were not, yet some of them might, by
proper interposition, if not rejected; by another com-
ing to the rash man’s relief, with his own laying
hold on that relief, in such sort as the case required.
Persons may do a great deal themselves towards pre-
venting the bad consequences of their follies; and
more may be done by themselves, together with the
assistance of others, their fellow-creatures; which
assistance nature requires and prompts us to. "This
is the general constitution of the world. Now, sup-

401

pose it had been so constituted, that after such ac-
tions were done, as were foreseen naturally to draw
after them misery to the doer, it should have been
no more in human power to have prevented that na-
tural consequent misery, in any instance, than it is
in all no one can say, whether such a more severe
constitution of things might not yet have been really
good. But that, on the contrary, provision is made
by nature, that we may and do, to so great degree

prevent the bad natural effects of our follies this
may be called mercy, or compassion, in the oriciual
constitution of the world; compassion as tistine
guished from goodness in general. And, the whole
known constitution and course of things affording us
instances of such compassion, it would be according
to the analogy of nature to hope, that, however ru-
inous the natural consequences of vice might be

from the general laws of God’s government i the
universe, yet provision might be made, possibly
might have been originally made, for preventing
those ruinous consequences from inevitably follow-
ing; at least from following universally, and in all
cases.

Many, I am sensible, will wonder at finding this
made a question, or spoken of as in any degree
doubtful. The generality of mankind are es far
from having that awful sense of things, which the
present state of vice and misery, and darkness, seems
to make but reasonable, that they have scarce any
apprehension, or thought at all, about this matter,
any way ; and some serious persons may have spoken
unadvisedly concerning it. But let us observe,
what we experience to be, and what, from the very

 

 

 
 

402

constitution of nature, cannot but be, the conse-
quences of irregular and disorderly behaviour; even
of such rashness, wilfulness, neglects, as we scarce
call vicious. Now, it is natural to apprehend, that
the bad consequences of irregularity will be greater,
in proportion as the irregularity is so. And there
is no comparison between these irregularities, and
the greater instances of vice, or a dissolute profligate
disregard to all religion; if there be any thing at all
in religion. For, consider what it is for creatures,
moral agents, presumptuously to introduce that con-
fusion and misery into the kingdom of God, which
mankind have, in fact, introduced ; to blaspheme the
sovereign Lord of all; to contemn his authority ; to
be injurious to the degree they are, to their fellow
creatures, the creatures of God. Add, that the ef-
fects of vice, in the present world, are often extreme
misery, irretrievable ruin, and even death: and,
upon putting all this together, it will appear, that as
no one can say, in what degree fatal the unprevented
consequences of vice may be, according to the gen-
eral rule of Divine government; so it is by no means
intuitively certain, how far these consequences could
possibly, in the nature of the thing, be prevented,
consistently with the eternal rule of right, or with
what is, in fact, the moral constitution of nature.
However, there would be large ground to hope, that
the universal government was not so severely strict,
but that there was room for pardon, or for having
those penal consequences prevented. Yet,
IV. There seems no probability, that any thing
we could do, would alone, and of itself, prevent
them; prevent their following, or being inflicted.

403

But one would think, at least, it were impossible
that the contrary should be thought rs For
we are not acquainted with the whole of the case.
We are not informed of all the reasons, which ren-
der it fit that future punishments should be inflicted ;
and, therefore, cannot know, whether any thin wo
could do would make such an alteration, as to i
it fit that they should be remitted. We do “i
know, what the whole natural, or appointed conse-
quences of vice are, nor in what way they would
follow, if not prevented; and, therefore, can in no
sort say, whether we could do any thing, whic
would be sufficient to prevent them. Our ir:
being thus manifest, let us recollect the analogy of
nature, or providence. For though this may Ci
a slight ground to raise a positive opinion upon, in
this matter, yet it is sufficient to answer a ROC ar-
bitrary assertion, without any kind of evidence urged
by way of objection against a doctrine, the rok of
which is not reason, but revelation. Consider, then
people ruin their fortunes by GALINA they
bring diseases upon themselves by Stearn 3 they a
the penalties of civil laws, and surely civil govern-
ment is natural; will sorrow for these follies past
and behaving well for the future, alone and of elt
prevent the natural consequences of them? On the
contrary, men’s natural abilities of helping them-
selves are often impaired; or, if not, yet they are
forced to be beholden to the assistance of others
upon several accounts, and in different ways: oe
tance which they would have had no occasion for
had it not been for their misconduct ; but which in
the - disadvantageous condition they have redaned

 

 

 
404

themselves to, is absolutely necessary to their re-
covery, and retrieving their affairs. Now, since this
is our case, considering ourselves merely as inhabi-
tants of this world, and as having a temporal interest
here, under the natural government of God, which,
however, has a great deal moral in it; why is it not
supposable, that this may be our case also, in our
more important capacity, as under his perfect moral
government, and having a more general and future
interest depending 2 If we have misbehaved in this
higher capacity, and rendered ourselves obnoxious to
the future punishment which God has annexed to
vice; it is plainly credible, that behaving well for
the time to come, may be—not useless, God forbid
—but wholly insufficient, alone and of itself, to
prevent that punishment ; or to put us in the condi-
tion which we should have been in, had we pre-
served our innocence.

And, though we ought to reason with all reve-
rence, whenever we reason concerning the Divine
conduct, yet it may be added, that it is clearly con-
trary to all our notions of government, as well as
to what is, in fact, the general constitution of na-
ture, to suppose that doing well for the future,
should, in all cases, prevent all the judicial bad con-
sequences of having done evil, or all the punish-
ment annexed to disobedience. And we have ma-
nifestly nothing from whence to determine, in what
degree, and in what cases, reformation would pre-

405

forfeited, is now insisted upon, in opposition to
Christianity 5 yet, by the general prevalence of pro-
Si wa
oR are ge ; emg sufficient to expiate
contrary to the general sense of
Upon the whole, then, had the laws, the general
ro God gen, bo pei
future I, for a k Sa
trary, or have any reason a0 think yee ably
have followed, notwithstanding i thing a
have done to prevent it. Now, y maa
; Yoh on dtr this light of nature, call
u please, revelation comes in; confirms
every doubting fear which could enter into the heart
of man concerning the future unprevented conse-
quence of wickedness ; supposes the world to be in
a state of ruin, (a supposition which seems the very
ground of the Christian dispensation d whicl i
not proveable by reason, yet it is i CE
of » yet 1t 1s In nowise contrary
to it); teaches us, too, that the rules of divine so-
vernment are such, as not to admit of pardon fn
mediately and directly upon repentance, or by the
sole efficacy of it; but then teaches at the en
time, what nature might justly have hoped dt the
moral government of the universe was hot SO roid
but that there was room for an interposition to or

t}

 

ae . ak x 4
RE TR BE

So st Cd

Ey

= ER a ve :

Lene EE

: ee
an

1e fat: "vi i
atal consequences of vice; which, therefore, by
us means, does admit of pardon. Revelation
t Fs » : |
eaches us, that the unknown laws of God’s more
reners ;
: oy go ernment, no less than the particular laws
y which we experienc /erns

p ce he governs us at present,

vent this punishment, even supposing that it would
in some. And, though the efficacy of repentance
itself alone, to prevent what mankind had rendered
themselves obnoxious to, and recover what they had

 

 

Eo

 
 

 

400

1 ie more
are CO og .
eneral notion of goodness ; WA interposi-
n
ful provided, that there should be Bh Tn
; n 5 prevent the destruction of hoe. a > el
10 av .
ever that destruction erento) Ne his only
! 1e
ed the world, that
« God so loved t . th,” not, to
Son, that whosoever believe >
begotten ’ . t in a practical sense,
be sure, in a speculative, bu 5 A nt ips
e ’ . . : -
¢«¢ that whosoever believeth in him should. dness
Ve is Son in the same way of goodne
rish;” gave his, Son fn the jeul ersons the
| 1d. as he affords particular p
to the woria, ¢ hele fellow-creatures, when,
. ate ce O .
iendly assistan A 1e certain
Ro it, their temporal ruin would be tl of
wl ’ . . . ame Wwe
sequence of their follies; mn the il 1 0
n . k \ a -
co RS 1 say, though m a Le en : God
goo > . And the Son o
finitely higher degree. ‘ * for us,” with a love
«loved us, and gave himself for us, Fotond
ov yor an friend-
hich he himself compares to that of hum Joa
whic . 11 comparison
: 3 * n a CO I
1: h. in this case, Tus
Ship; though, » ing intended to be 1llus-
fall infinitely short of the mp tas.
trated by them. He interposed 1n oe
a g 1at exc-
as necessary and effectual to DS Abed or
Ss Wi | ny p-
: tion of justice upon sinners, which Go todinper
cuti . cecute
sted should otherwise have been 508 See a
ointe 5 -
¥ in such a manner, as to prove Airc
them; orl tually following, which, according
. Tr ‘tua o EE
Jhment from ac Pg / must have
1s the general laws of divine gov ernment, is
o the .
; dowel the sins of the world, had it no
0

such interposition.

 

: &e. Soi ide : the most cur
* Page 390, 1 suppose, be imagined, even By d, in any
tt ht it is, in any sort, amroned O ie benefit of the
TY Taid in this Chapter, that none can have
thing sal

407

If any thing here said should appear, upon first
thought, inconsistent with Divine goodness, a se-
cond, I am persuaded, will entirely remove that ap-
pearance. I° or, were we to Suppose the constitu-
tion of things to be such, as that the whole crea-
tion must have perished, had it not been for some-
what which God had appointed should be, in order
to prevent that ruin; even this supposition would

not be inconsistent, in any degree, with the most

absolutely perfect goodness. But still it may be

thought, that this whole manner of treating the
subject before us, supposes mankind to be naturally
in a very strange state. And truly so it does. But
it is not Christianity which has put us into this
state. Whoever will consider the manifold mise-
ries, and the extreme wickedness of the world ;

that the best have great wrongnesses within them-
selves, which they complain of, and endeavour to

 

 

general redemption, but such as have the advantage of being
made acquainted with it in the present life. But, it may be
needful to mention, that several questions, which have been
brought into the subject before us, and determined, are not in
the least entered into here; questions which have been, I fear,
rashly determined, and, perhaps, with equal rashness, contrary
ways. For instance : Whether God could have saved the world
by other means than the death of Christ, consistently with the
general laws of his government ? And, had not Christ come in-
to the world, what would have been the future condition of the
better sort of men ; those just persons over the face of the
earth, for whom Manasses, in his prayer, asserts repentance
Was mot appointed ? The meaning of the first of these ques-
tions is greatly ambiguous ; and neither of them can properly be
answered, without going upon that infinitely absurd supposition,
that we know the whole of the case. And, perhaps, the very
inquiry, What would have Jollowed, if God had not dome as he
has? may have in it some very great impropriety; and ought
not to be carried on any farther, th

an is necessary to help our
Partial and inadequate conception of things.

 

ll eS Bi ho AA

Cl ot 1

 
 

 

408

amend; but that the generality grow more profli-
gate and corrupt with age; that heathen moralists
thought the present state to be a state of punish-
ment; and, what might be added, that the earth
our habitation, has the appearance of being a ruin;
whoever, 1 say, will consider all these, and some
other obvious things, will think he has little reason
to object against the Scripture account, that man-
kind is in a state of degradation ; against this be-
ing the fact: how difficult soever he may think it
to account for, or even to form a distinct concep-
tion of, the occasions and circumstances of it. But

that the crime of our first parents was the occasion
a more disadvantageous con-

of our being placed in
dition, is a thing throughout, and particularly ana-

logous to what we see, in the daily course of natu-
ral providence; as the recovery of the world, by the
interposition of Christ, has been shown to be so in
general.

VI. The particular manner in which Christ in-
terposed in the redemption of the world, omhis office
as Mediator, in the largest sense, between God and
man, is thus represented to us in the Scripture:
« He is the light of the world” the revealer of the
will of God in the most eminent sense: he is a pro-
pitiatory sacrifice ;* the ¢ Lamb of Gods” and as
he voluntarily offered himself up, he is, throughout
the epistle to the Hebrews, styled our High-priest.
And, which seems of peculiar weight, he is de-
scribed beforehand, in the Old Testament, under

 

* Rom. iii. 25. and v. 11. 1 Cor. Vv. 7. Ephes. v. 2.

1 John ii. 2. Matth. xxvi. 28.

409

victim. * ; it i
en find whereas it is objected, that all this
y by way of allusion to the sacrifices of th
e

Mosaic I:
aw, the apostle, on the contrary, affirms
2

that ¢ the law
was a shadow .
come, and not the ver of good things to

mag .
that the priests that offor ey ih ne
serve g AW
ta le, and shadow of heavenly
lig about to make San, of Ook lion
saitn 13
the A, a iho mice. dll things according to
the Levitical we to thee in the mount 3” that is
Wg dl piensa was a shadow of the posi
ides in like manner as the tabernacle
in the mount : ey according to that showed him
tabernacle in th ie priesthood of Christ, and the
former of whi 4 Hom; Were the originals: of the
ch, the Lev :
ad of the I evitical priesthood was a type;
Apa i tabernacle made by Moc:
Tt 2 Hina ge,
the great and final en go Foxe allusions to
blood of Christ; and not tl :

6 For see,”

fe made by the
Wi tha this was an allusion
ag; 1 Nor Nii a thing be more express and
gia ) f 1an $e following passage: ¢ It is
bi ws via t 1e blood of bulls and of goats
ig NT i w herefore, when he cometh
odheyred » he saith, Sacrifice and offerine.”
hy 5 jh ills and of goats, «thou wouldst not but

ody hast thou prepared me—Lo, 1 come fo to

thy wi 3
iy will, O God.—By which will we are sanctified

 

* Isa. lili. Dan. ix. 24. Psal. ex. 4

5 17

 

 
 

 

 

410
through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ

ce for all.” And to add one passage mae of
on . J 4 ok
the like kind: ¢ Christ was once offered 2 i
1m
the sins of many; and unto them that look 2 :
shall he appear the second time, without sm;™ t at is,
: .C
: i i is first coming,
] aring sin, as he did at his g,
without bearing sin, i
i or it; Ww aving our
i ine for it; without having
by being an offering : | :
of uities again laid upon him, without being any
: pr
2 a sin-offering: ¢ Unto them that look for
b i 1 in
him shall he appear the second time, without S 2
to salvation.” Nor do the inspired writers at
un . Tho
confine themselves to this manner of pe c
isfacti “hii are an
cerning the satisfaction of Christ, but dec 2
> . ry C b
efficacy in what he did and suffered for us, ac
instructi cample
tional to, and beyond mere instruction, example,
< 4
i jarie ssion :
and government, 1m great variety of expre 3
> ‘eo for that nation,” the Jews;
« That Jesus should die for tha : plow
3 D> x a T
¢¢ and not for that nation only, but that a sos p : y
by the efficacy of his death, he should gathe
; i : : were
edn in one the children of God that
= ffered for sins, the
tered abroad:” that ¢ he suftere , |
sast:? that « he gave his life, him-
just for the unjust:” tha g Sol
If a ransom :”* that ¢ we are bought, bough :
self a rz : ght 8 :
yrice "+ that «he redeemed us with his pioey
: 3 7, bei ade
ea us from the curse of the law, being m
e for us:”1 that «he is our advocate, inter-
a curs : :
itiation:’ ade per
cessor, and propitiation:”§ that “he was m $e pe
fect (or consummate) through sufferings; oy v g
y > salva-
thus made perfect, he became the author o ¢

 

* Matt. xx. 28. Mark x. 45. 1 Tim, iL 0
+ 2 Pet. ii. 1. Rev. xiv. 4. 1 Cor. o .
+ 1 Pet. i. 19. Rev. v. 9. Gal. iii. 13.

§ Heb, vil. 25. 1 John ii. 1, 2.

411

tion :”* that ¢« God was in Christ, reconciling the
world to himself, by the death of his Son by the
cross; not imputing their trespasses unto them :”+
and, lastly, that « through death he destroyed him
that had the power of death.”t Christ, then,
having thus ¢ humbled himself, and become obe-
dient to death, even the death of the cross, God
also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name
which is above every name; hath given all things
into his hands; hath committed all judgment unto

him; that all men should honour the Son, even as
they honour the Father.”§ For, « worthy is the
Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches,
and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory,
and blessing! And every creature which is in
heaven, and on the earth, heard I saying, Blessing,
and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him
that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb,
for ever and ever !”

These passages of Scripture seem to comprehend
and express the chief parts of Christ’s office, as
mediator between God and man, so far, I mean, as
the nature of this his office is revealed; and it is
usually treated of by divines under three heads.

First, He was, by way of eminence, the Pro-
phet: < that Prophet that should come into the
world,” to declare the divine will. He published
anew the law of nature which men had corrupted ;

 

* Heb. ii. 10. v. 9.
t 2 Cor. v. 19. Rom. v. 10. Eph. ii. 16.

1 Heb. ii. 14. See also a remarkable passage in the book of
Job, xxxiii. 24.

§ Phil. ii. 8, 9. John iii. 35, and v. 22, 23.
Ss 2

 
 

 

 

412

and the very knowledge of which, to some degree,
was lost among them. He taught mankind, taught
us authoritatively, to live soberly, righteously,
and godly, in this present world,” in expectation of
the future judgment of God. He confirmed the
truth of this moral system of nature, and gave us
additional evidence of it, the evidence of testimo-
ny.* He distinctly revealed the manner in which
God would be worshipped, the efficacy of repent-
ance, and the rewards and punishments of a future
life. Thus he was a prophet, in a sense in which
no other ever was. To which is to be added, that
he set us a perfect « example, that we should follow
his steps.”

Secondly, He has a kingdom, which is not of
this world.” He founded a church, to be to man-
kind a standing memorial of religion, and invitation
to it; which he promised to be with always, even
to the end. Ile exercises an invisible government
over it, himself, and by his Spirit; over that part
of it which is militant here on earth, a government
of discipline, for the perfecting of the saints, for
the edifying his body ; till we all come in the unity
of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of
God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the
stature of the fulness of Christ.” Of this church,
all persons scattered over the world, who live in
obedience to his laws, are members. For these he
is ¢ gone to prepare a place, and will come again
to receive them unto himself, that where he is,
there they may be also; and reign with him for

 

* Page 340, &ec.

413

Sorin ever;” and likewise ¢ to take vengeance
” em that know not God, and obey not his gos-
Against these parts of Christ's office, I find
objections but what are fully obviated in the b
ning of this chapter. =
Lastly, Christ offered himself a propitiato
crifice, and made atonement for the pe of de
world ; which is mentioned last, in regard to wh :
is objected against it. Sacrifices of expiation w =
commanded the Jews, and obtained amongst
other nations, from tradition, whose ori
bably was revelation. And they were il ;
repeated, both occasionally, and at the retu 8 A
stated times ; and made up great part of the :
nal religion of mankind. ¢ But now once in i

end of the world Christ appeared, to put away sin

by the sacrifice of himself.” And this sacrific

in the highest degree, and with the most ie
influence, of that efficacy for obtaining pardon i:
sin, which the heathens may be re to h .
thought their sacrifices to have been, and which i
Jewish sacrifices really were in some degree p
with regard to some persons. il

: How, and in what particular way, it had this ef-
ficacy, there are not wanting persons who have er
deavoured to explain; but I cannot find that ee
Scripture has explained it. We seem to be v 2
much in the dark, concerning the manner in which
the ancients understood atonement to be made det
i pardon to be obtained by sacrifices. And i ry
Scripture has, as surely it has, left this matter ;
the satisfaction of Christ mysterious, left relat

 
 

 

 

 

 

414

in it unrevealed, all conjectures about it must be, if
not evidently absurd, yet at least uncertain. Nor
has any one reason to complain for want of fart er
information, unless he can show his claim to it. :

Some have endeavoured to explain the efficacy of
what Christ has done and suffered for us, beyond
what the Scripture has authorized ; others, proba-
bly, because they could not explain it, have been
for taking it away, and confining his office as Re-
deemer of the world, to his instruction, example,
and government of the church; whereas, the doc-
trine of the gospel appears to be, not only that he
taught the efficacy of repentance, but rendered it of
the efficacy which it is, by what he did and suffered
for us: that he obtained for us the benefit of hav-
ing our repentance accepted unto eternal life: not
only that he revealed to sinners, that they were in
a capacity of salvation, and how they might obtain
it; but, moreover, that he put them into this capa-
city of salvation, by what he did and suffered for
them; put us into a capacity of escaping future pun-
ishment, and obtaining future happiness. And it is
our wisdom thankfully to accept the benefit, by per-
forming the conditions upon which it is offered on
our part, without disputing how it was procured on
his. For,

VII. Since we neither know by what means pun-
ishment in a future state would have followed wicked-
ness in this; nor in what manner it would have been
inflicted, had it not been prevented ; nor all the rea-
sons why its infliction would have been needful ; or
the particular nature of that state of happiness wl je
Christ is gone to prepare for his disciples; and since

415

we are ignorant how far any thing we could do, would,
alone and of itself, have been effectual to prevent
that punishment to which we were obnoxious, and
recover that happiness which we had forfeited ; it is
most evident we are not judges, antecedently to re-
velation, whether a mediator was or was not neces-
sary to obtain those ends; to prevent that future
punishment, and bring mankind to the final happi-
ness of their nature. And for the very same rea-
sons, upon supposition of the necessity of a media-
tor, we are no more judges, antecedently to revela-
tion, of the whole nature of his office, or the several
parts of which it consists: of what was fit and re-
quisite to be assigned him, in order to accomplish
the ends of divine Providence in the appointment.
And from hence it follows, that to object against the
expediency or usefulness of particular things revealed
to have been done or suffered by him, because we
do not see how they were conducive to those ends,
is highly absurd. Yet nothing is more common to
be met with than this absurdity. But if it be ac-
knowledged beforehand, that we are not judges in
the case, it is evident that no objection can, with any
shadow of reason, be urged against any particular
part of Christ’s mediatorial office revealed in Serip-
ture, till it can be shown positively, not to be requi-
site, or conducive, to the ends proposed to be accom-
plished ; or that it is in itself unreasonable.

And there is one objection made against the satis-
faction of Christy which looks to be of this positive
kind: that the doctrine of his being appointed to
suffer for the sins of the world, represents God as be-
ing indifferent whether he punished the innocent or

 
 

 

aa
- CEES a

mp

SukeiREEl

416

the guilty. Now, from the foregoing observations,
we may see the extreme slightness of all such ob-
jections and (though it is most certain all who make
them do not see the consequence) that they conclude
altogether as much against God’s whole original con-
stitution of nature, and whole daily course of divine
Providence, in the government of the world, that is,
against the whole scheme of theism and the whole
notion of religion, as against Christianity. For the
world is a constitution, or system, whose parts have
a mutual reference to each other; and there is a
scheme of things gradually carrying on, called the
course of nature, to the carrying on of which God
has appointed us, in various ways to contribute.
And when, in the daily course of natural providence,
it is appointed that innocent people should suffer for
the faults of the guilty, this is liable to the very
same objection as the instance we are now consider-
ing. The infinitely greater importance of that ap-
pointment of Christianity which is objected against,
does not hinder but it may be, as it plainly is, an ap-
pointment of the very same kind with what the world
affords us daily examples of. Nay, if there were any
force at all in the objection, it would be stronger, in
one respect, against natural providence, than against
Christianity ; because under the former, we are in
many cases commanded, and even necessitated, whe-
ther we will or not, to suffer for the faults of others;
whereas the sufferings of Christ were voluntary.
The world’s being under the righteous government
of God, does, indeed, imply, that finally, and upon
the whole, every one shall receive according to his
personal deserts: and the general doctrine of the

417

whole Scripture is, that this shall be the completion
of the divine government. But, during the pro-
gress, and, for aught we know, even in order to the
completion of this moral scheme, vicarious punish-
ments may be fit, and absolutely necessary. Men,
by their follies, run themselves into extreme distress;
into difficulties which would be absolutely fatal to
them, were it not for the interposition and assistance
of others. God commands by the law of nature that
we afford them this assistance, in many cases where
we cannot do it without very great pains, and labour,
and sufferings to ourselves. And we see in what
variety of ways one person’s sufferings contribute to
the relief of another; and how, or by what particular
means, this comes to pass, or follows, from the con-
stitution and laws of nature, which come under our
notice: and being familiarized to it, men are not
shocked with it. So that the reason of their insist-
ing upon objections of the foregoing kind, against
the satisfaction of Christ, is either that they do not
consider God’s settled and uniform appointments as
his appointments at all, or else they forget that vica-
rious punishment is a providential appointment of
every day’s experience: and then, from their being
unacquainted with the more general laws of nature,
or divine government over the world, and not seeing
how the sufferings of Christ could contribute to the
redemption of it, unless by arbitrary and tyrannical
will, they conclude his sufferings could not contri-
bute to it any other way. And yet, what has been
often alleged in justification of this doctrine, even
from the apparent natural tendency of this method
of our redemption—its tendency to vindicate the
$3

 

 
 

 

 

 

418

authority of God’s laws, and deter his Seas fon

sin; this has never yet been answered, @ 5 :
think, plainly unanswerable : though I = Sa i 2

thinking it an account of the whole 0 the » .
But without taking this into considerations it a es
dantly appears, from the observations above 2 le,
that this objection is not an objection against :
tianity, but against the whole general constitution g

nature. And if it were to be considered as an ob-
jection against Christianity, or, considering it ns i
is, an objection against the constitution of nature, }
amounts to no more in conclusion than this, That a
divine appointment cannot be necessary, or expartiont,
because the objector does not discern it to be 501
though he must own that the nature of the ost is
such, as renders him incapable of judging whether 5
be so or not; or of seeing it to be necessary, though
it were so.

It is, indeed, a matter of great patience to reason-
able men, to find people arguing in this a
objecting against the credibility of oe pert eniss
things revealed in Scripture, that they do ps
the necessity or expediency of them. For, t ne
it is highly right, and the most pious exercise of our
understanding, to inquire with due reverence into
the ends and reasons of God's dispensations ; yet,
when those reasons are concealed, to argue from
our ignorance, that such dispensations cannot ju
from God, is infinitely absurd. The presumption 0
this kind of objections seems almost lost in the folly
of them. And the folly of them is yet greater,
when they are urged, as usually they are, Stas
things in Christianity analogous, or like to those

419

natural dispensations of Providence, which are mat-
ter of experience. Let reason be kept to; and, if
any part of the Scripture account of the redemption
of the world by Christ, can be shown to be really
contrary to it, let the Scripture, in the name of
God, be given up: but let not such poor creatures
as we go on objecting against an infinite scheme,
that we do not see the necessity or usefulness of all
its parts, and call this reasoning; and, which still
farther heightens the absurdity in the present case,
parts which we are not actively concerned in. For,
it may be worth mentioning,
Lastly, That not only the reason of the thing,
but the whole analogy of nature, should teach us,
not to expect to have the like information concern-
ing the divine conduct, as concerning our own duty.
God instructs us by experience, (for it is not rea-
son, but experience, which instructs us,) what good
or bad consequences will follow from our acting in
such and such manners; and by this he directs us
how we are to behave ourselves. But, though we
are sufficiently instructed for the common purposes
of life, yet it is but an almost infinitely small part of
natural providence which we are at all let into.
The case is the same with regard to revelation.
The doctrine of a Mediator between God and man,
against which it is objected, that the expediency of
some things in it is not understood, relates only to
what was done on God’s part in the appointment,
and on the Mediator’s in the execution of it. For
what is required of us, in consequence of this gra-
cious dispensation, is another subject, in which none

 
 

 

420

can complain for want of information. The consti-
tution of the world, and God’s natural government
over it, is all mystery, as much as the Christian
dispensation. Yet, under the first, he has given men
all things pertaining to life ; and under the other,
all things pertaining unto godliness. And, it may
be added, that there is nothing hard to be account-
ed for, in any of the common precepts of Christi-
anity ; though, if there were, surely a Divine com-
mand is abundantly sufficient to lay us under the
strongest obligations to obedience. But the fact 1s,
that the reasons of all the Christian precepts are
evident. Positive institutions are manifestly neces-
sary to keep up and propagate religion amongst
mankind. And our duty to Christ, the internal
and external worship of him, this part of the reli-
gion of the gospel manifestly arises out of what he
has done and suffered, his authority and dominion,
and the relation which he is revealed to stand in
to us.*®

 

*# Page 275, &c.

CHAP. VL

Of the Want of Universality in Revelation ; and
of the supposed Deficiency in the Proof of it.

It has been thought by some persons, that if
the evidence of revelation appears doubtful, this it-
self turns into a positive argument against it; be-
cause it cannot be supposed, that, if it were true,
it would be left to subsist upon doubtful evidence.
And the objection against revelation, from its not
being universal, is often insisted upon, as of great
weight.

Now, the weakness of these opinions may be
shown, by observing the suppositions on which they
are founded, which are really such as these :—that
it cannot be thought God would have bestowed any
favour at all upon us, unless in the degree which
we think he might, and which, we imagine, would
be most to our particular advantage; and also, that
it cannot be thought he would bestow a favour upon
any, unless he bestowed the same upon all: suppo-
sitions which we find contradicted, not by a few in-
stances in God’s natural government of the world,
but by the general analogy of nature together.

Persons who speak of the evidence of religion as
doubtful, and of this supposed doubtfulness as a
positive argument against it, should be put upon
considering, what that evidence indeed is, which
they act upon with regard to their temporal inter-
ests. For, it is not only extremely difficult, but,

 
 

 

 

422

mm many cases, absolutely impossible, to balance
pleasure and pain, satisfaction and uneasiness, so as
to be able to say on which side the overplus is.
There are the like difficulties and impossibilities, in
making the due allowances for a change of temper
and taste, for satiety, disgust, ill health; any of
which render men incapable of enjoying, after they
have obtained, what they most eagerly desired.
Numberless, too, are the accidents, besides that one
of untimely death, which may even probably disap-
point the best concerted schemes; and strong ob-
jections are often seen to lie against them, not to
be removed or answered, but which seem overbal-
anced by reason on the other side; so as that the
certain difficulties and dangers of the pursuit are,
by every one, thought justly disregarded, upon ac-
count of the appearing greater advantages in case of
success, though there be but little probability of it.
Lastly, Every one observes our liableness, if we be
not upon our guard, to be deceived by the false-
hood of men, and the false appearances of things;
and this danger must be greatly increased, if there
be a strong bias within, suppose from indulged pas-
sion, to favour the deceit. Hence arises that great
uncertainty and doubtfulness of proof, wherein our
temporal interest really consists ; what are the most
probable means of attaining it; and whether those
means will eventually be successful. And number-
Jess instances there are, in the daily course of life,
in which all men think it reasonable to engage in
pursuits, though the probability is greatly against
succeeding ; and to make such provision for them-
selves, as it is supposable they may have occasion

423

for, though the plain acknowledged probability is,
that they never shall. Then those who think the
objection against revelation, from its light not being
universal, to be of weight, should observe, that the
Author of nature, in numberless instances, bestows
that upon some, which he does not upon others,
who seem equally to stand in need of it. Indeed,
he appears to bestow all his gifts, with the most pro-
miscuous variety, among creatures of the same spe-
cies: health and strength, capacities of prudence
and of knowledge, means of improvement, riches,
and all external advantages. And as there are not
any two men found of exactly like shape and fea-
tures, so, it is probable, there are not any two of
an exactly like constitution, temper, and situation,
with regard to the goods and evils of life. Yet,
notwithstanding these uncertainties and varieties,
God does exercise a natural government over the

world; and there is such a thing as a prudent and
imprudent institution of life, with regard to our

health and our affairs, under that his natural govern-
ment.

As neither the Jewish nor Christian revelation
have been universal, and as they have been afforded to
a greater or less part of the world, at different times,
so, likewise at different times, both revelations have
had different degrees of evidence. The Jews who
lived during the succession of prophets, that is, from
Moses till after the Captivity, had higher evidence
of the truth of their religion, than those had who
lived in the interval between the last-mentioned pe-
riod and the coming of Christ. And the first Chris-
tians had higher evidence of the miracles wrought in

 
 

 

 

ASR

a RE ca Te

424

attestation of Christianity than what we have now.
They had also a strong presumptive proof of the truth
of it, perhaps of much greater force in way of argu-
ment, than many think, of which we have very little
remaining; I mean, the presumptive proof of its truth,
from the influence which it had upon the lives of the
generality of its professors. And we, or future ages,
may possibly have a proof of it, which they could not
have, from the conformity between the prophetic his-
tory, and the state of the world, and of Christianity.
And farther: if we were to suppose the evidence which
some have of religion, to amount to little more than
seeing that it may be true, but that they remain in
great doubts and uncertainties about both its evidence
and its nature, and great perplexities concerning the
rule of life; others to have a full conviction of the
truth of religion, with a distinct knowledge of their
duty; and others severally to have all the interme-
diate degrees of religious light and evidence, which
lie between these two.—If we put the case, that for
the present it was intended revelation should be no
more than a small light, in the midst of a world
greatly overspread, notwithstanding it, with igno-
rance and darkness; that certain glimmerings of this
light should extend, and be directed, to remote dis-
tances, in such a manner as that those who really
partook of it should not discern from whence it ori-
ginally came; that some, in a nearer situation to it,
should have its light obscured, and, in different ways
and degrees, intercepted ; and that others should be
placed within its clearer influence, and be much more
enlivened, cheered, and directed by it; but yet, that
even to these it should be no more than “a light

425

shining in a dark place:” all this would be perfectly
uniform, and of a piece with the conduct of Provi-
dence, in the distribution of its other blessings. If
the fact of the case really were, that some have re-
ceived no light at all from the Scripture ; as many
ages and countries in the heathen world: that others
though they have, by means of it, had essential or
natural religion enforced upon their consciences, yet
have never had the genuine Scripture revelation,
with its real evidence, proposed to their considera-
tion; and the ancient Persians and modern Maho-
metans may possibly be instances of people in a si-
tuation somewhat like to this: that others, though
they have had the Scripture laid before them as of
divine revelation, yet have had it with the system
and evidence of Christianity so interpolated, the
system so corrupted, the evidence so blended with
false miracles, as to leave the mind in the utmost
doubtfulness and uncertainty about the whole;
which may be the state of some thoughtful men in
most of those nations who call themselves Christian :
and, lastly, that others have had Christianity offered
to them in its genuine simplicity, and with its proper
evidence, as persons in countries and churches of civil
and of Christian liberty ; but, however, that even
these persons are left in great ignorance in many
respects, and have by no means light afforded them
enough to satisfy their curiosity, but only to regu-
late their life, to teach them their duty, and ot
courage them in the careful discharge of it: I say,
if we were to suppose this somewhat of a gene-
ral true account of the degrees of moral ey
gious light and evidence, which were intended to

 
pme———

 

 

 

 

IE ARE ERT ie a

426

be afforded mankind, and of what has actually been
and is their situation in their moral and religious ca-
pacity, there would be nothing in all this ignorance,
doubtfulness, and uncertainty, in all these varieties
and supposed disadvantages of some in comparison of
others, respecting religion, but may be paralleled by
manifest analogies in the natural dispensations of
Providence at present, and considering ourselves
merely in our temporal capacity.

Nor is there any thing shocking in all this, or
which would seem to bear hard upon the moral ad-
ministration in nature, if we would really keep in
mind, that every one shall be dealt equitably with;
instead of forgetting this, or explaining it away, af-
ter it is acknowledged in words. All shadow of in-
justice, and indeed all harsh appearances, in this va-
rious economy of Providence, would be lost, if we
would keep in mind, that every merciful allowance
shall be made, and no more be required of any one,
than what might have been equitably expected of
him, from the circumstances in which he was placed;
and not what might have been expected, had he been
placed in other circumstances; that is, in Scripture
language, that every man shall be accepted accord-
ing to what he hath, not according to what he hath
not.” This however, doth not by any means im-
ply, that all persons’ condition here is equally advan-
tageous with respect to futurity. And Providence
designing to place some in greater darkness with re-
spect to religious knowledge, is no more a reason
why they should not endeavour to get out of that
darkness, and others to bring them out of it, than
why ignorant and slow people, in matters of other

427

knowledge, should not endeavour to learn, or should
not be instructed.

: It is not unreasonable to suppose, that the same
wise and good principle, whatever it was, which dis-
posed the Author of nature to make different kinds
and orders of creatures, disposed him also to place
creatures of like kinds in different situations; and
that the same principle which disposed him to make
creatures of different moral capacities, disposed him
also to place creatures of like moral capacities in dif-
ferent religious situations: and even the same crea-
tures, in different periods of their being. And the ac-
count or reason of this, is also most probably the ac-
count, why the constitution of things is such, as that
creatures of moral natures or capacities, for a consider-
able part of that duration in which they are living
agents, are not at all subjects of morality and religion;
but grow up to be so, and grow up to be so more
and more, gradually from childhood to mature age.

What, in particular, is the account or Wy of
these things, we must be greatly in the dark, were
it only that we know so very little even of our own
case. Our present state may possibly be the con-
sequence of somewhat past, which we are wholly ig-
norant of; as it has a reference to somewhat %
come, of which we know scarce any more than is
necessary for practice. A system or constitution,
in its notion, implies variety : and so complicated an
one as this world, very great variety. So that were
revelation universal, yet from men’s different capa-
cities of understanding, from the different lengths
of their lives, their different educations, and other
external circumstances, and from their difference of

 

 
 

 

 

428

temper and bodily constitution; their religious situa-
tions would be widely different, and the disadvantage
of some in comparison of others, perhaps, altogether
as much as at present. And the true account,
whatever it be, why mankind, or such a part of man-
kind, are placed in this condition of ignorance, must
be supposed also the true account of our farther ig-
norance, in not knowing the reasons why, or whence
it is, that they are placed in this condition. But
the following practical reflections may deserve the
serious consideration of those persons, who think the
circumstances of mankind, or their own, in the fore-
mentioned respects, a ground of complaint.

First, The evidence of religion not appearing ob-
vious, may constitute one particular part of some
men’s trial in the religious sense: as it gives scope
for a virtuous exercise, or vicious neglect, of their
understanding, in examining or not examining into
that evidence. There seems no possible reason to be
given, why we may not be in a state of moral pro-
bation, with regard to the exercise of our under-
standing upon the subject of religion, as we are
with regard to our behaviour in common affairs.
The former is as much a thing within our power and
choice as the latter. And I suppose it is to be laid
down for certain, that the same character, the same
inward principle, which, after a man is convinced of
the truth of religion, renders him obedient to the
precepts of it, would, were he not thus convinced,
set him about an examination of it, upon its system
and evidence being offered to his thoughts; and that
in the latter state, his examination would be with an
impartiality, seriousness. and solicitude, proportion-

429

able to what his obedience is in the former. And as
inattention, negligence, want of all serious coats,
about a matter of such a nature and such importance,
when offered to men’s consideration, is, before a dr
tinct conviction of its truth, as real immoral depra-
vity and dissoluteness, as neglect of religious prac-
tice after such conviction; so active solicitude about
it, and fair impartial consideration of its evidence
before such conviction, is as really an exercise of a
morally right temper, as is religious practice Stier.
I'hus, that religion is not intuitively true, but a mat-
ter of deduction and inference; that a conviction of
its truth is not forced upon every one, but left to be
by some, collected with heedful attention to eel
ses : this as much constitutes religious probation, as
much affords sphere, scope, opportunity, for ht
and wrong behaviour, as any thing whatever dos
And their manner of treating this subject wich
laid before them, shows what is in die herat, and
1s an exertion of it.
] Sony, It appears to be a thing as evident,
ough it is not so much i
consdention of religion Hin : Gv one
gion, dence of it should
seem to any persons doubtful, in the highest sup-
posable degree, even this doubtful evidence will
however, put them into a general state of ———
in the moral and religious sense. For, suppose a SD
to be really in doubt, whether such a person had not
done him the greatest favour; or, whether his whole
temporal interest did not depend upon that person;
no one, who had any sense of gratitude and of pre
dence, could possibly consider himself in the same
Situation, with regard to such person, as if he had

 

 
 

 

430

it i i ay, that
no such doubt. In truth, it 1s as just tos oi 2
: : say -
certainty and doubt are the same, as to 2 : ow
tuations now mentioned would leave a Visen
. . oy
tirely at liberty, in point of gratitude o I Vite :
as he would be, were he certain he ha en dy
wa ep -
favour from such person, or that He » : y dope e
e
i And thus, though
ed upon him. Oo
io oh is afforded to some men,
relicion which is a : Shona be
little more than that they are given to se fs "
tem of Christianity, or religion 1n Juin . oxie
i i in all reas
supposable and credible, this ought 2 Vn.
. -. - 1
beoet a serious practical apprehension tha y
or + will afford matter of exercise,
true. And even this will affor i
reich y d deliberation, for mora
for relicious suspense an 2 a
. : ause
i f-covernment ; bec
solution and self-g an
hension that religion may be in does as y
igati ull conviction
men under obligations, as a f i
iv asion an
a jects reserve attentively
farther the important subject; to Pm ey
upon their minds a general implicit _ al ghey
ivi rernment, an
divine moral gove :
may be under i
101 ural or
icl ion, whether na
licitude about religion, omit.
3 hension ought to turn mens €y :
Sots oye % ich may be had, from
ry degree of new light which may os
oi 1 refrain,
toy side it comes, and jus She io Sh
; - - wr
1 i ralities, an
i e. from all immo
in the mean time, : Hoi
the conscientious practice of every on Sn
o
Especially are they bound to keep at the gre Sen
tance from all dissolute profaneness; for pias
ids 3 ea
ery nature of the case forbids; and ‘ “ Woe
I ich their
oe reverence a matter upon whic oo
N i d the fate of natur
whole interest and being, an Se
pends This behaviour, and an active €

431

maintain within themselves this temper, is the busi-
ness, the duty, and the wisdom of those persons,
who complain of the doubtfulness of religion; is
what they are under the most proper obligations to :
And such behaviour is an exertion of, and has a ten-
dency to improve in them, that character, which the
practice of all the several duties of religion, from a
full conviction of its truth, is an exertion of, and has
a tendency to improve in others; others, I say, to
whom God has afforded such conviction. Nay, con-
sidering the infinite importance of religion, revealed
as well as natural, I think it may be said in general,
that whoever will weigh the matter thoroughly, may
see there is not near so much difference, as is com-
monly imagined, between what ought in reason to
be the rule of life, to those persons who are fully
convinced of its truth, and to those who have only
a serious doubting apprehension that it may be true.
Their hopes, and fears, and obligations, will be in
various degrees; but, as the subject-matter of their
hopes and fears is the same, so the subject-matter
of their obligations, what they are bound to do and
to refrain from, is not so very unlike.

It is to be observed farther, that, from a charac-
ter of understanding, or a situation of influence in
the world, some persons have it in their power to do
infinitely more harm or good, by setting an example
of profaneness and avowed disregard to all religion ;
or, on the contrary, of a serious, though perhaps
doubting, apprehension of its truth, and of a rever-
end regard to it under this doubtfulness, than they
can do by acting well or ill in all the common inter-

courses amongst mankind; and consequently they

Ba

RR Ta

a».
wk

Cnr pe ay

A i i ae il

 
432

are most highly accountable for a ain va,
they may easily foresee, is of such pol an 3 :
in which there is most plainly a right an a > 8 ;
even admitting the a of religion to be as
( is pretended.
a k of these observations, and that “hie
renders them just and true, 1s, that Sap
sarily implies some degree of evidence f= 5 of
which we doubt. For no person would be in
concerning the truth of a number of facts so an 0
circumstanced, which should accidentally oe hes
his thoughts, and of which he had no oh ence 2
all. And though in the case of an even c - :
where consequently we were mn doubt, we s i d P
common language say, that we had no evi Ieee of
all for either side; yet that situation of things, w i
renders it an even chance and no more, ay Wi >
event will happen, renders this case equiv fens on
others, where there is such evidence 0) ot Shes
of a question,™ as leaves the mind in doubt Sho
ing the truth. Indeed, in all these Wi =
is no more evidence on the one side than on :
other; but there is (what is equivalent to) Dud
more for either, than for the truth of a num 2
facts which come into one’s thoughts at ran Eo
And thus, in all these cases, doubt as much py
poses evidence, lower degrees of evidence, oo : ¥
presupposes higher, and certainty higher st Sy
one, who will a little attend to the nature ow
dence, will easily carry this observation oo
that between no evidence at all, and that degree

 

# Introduction.

 

433

it which affords ground of doubt, there are as many
intermediate degrees, as there are between that de-
gree which is the ground of doubt, and demonstra-
tion. And, though we have not faculties to dis-
tinguish these degrees of evidence, with any sort of
exactness, yet, in proportion as they are discerned,
they ought to influence our practice. For it is as
real an imperfection in the moral character, not to
be influenced in practice by a lower degree of evi-
dence when discerned, as it is in the understanding,
not to discern it. And as, in all subjects which
men consider, they discern the lower as well as
higher degrees of evidence, proportionably to their
capacity of understanding; so, in practical subjects,

they are influenced in practice, by the lower as well

as higher degrees of it, proportionably to their fair-

ness and honesty. And as, in proportion to defects
in the understanding, men are unapt to see lower
degrees of evidence, are in danger of overlooking
evidence when it is not glaring, and are easily im-

posed upon in such cases; so, in proportion to the
corruption of the heart, they seem capable of satis-
fying themselves with having no regard in practice
to evidence acknowledged real, if it be not over-

bearing. From these things it must follow, that

doubting concerning religion implies such a degree
of evidence for it, as, joined with the consideration
of its importance, unquestionably lays men under
the obligations before-mentioned, to have a dutiful
regard to it in all their behaviour.

Thirdly, The difficulties in which the evidence
of religion is involved, which some complain of, is
no more a just ground of complaint, than the ex-

T 17

 
 

434

ternal circumstances of temptation, which on
placed in; or than difficulties in the practice of ¥,
after a full conviction of its truth. Tony
render our state a more improving state of « ik
line,* than it would be otherwise ; as they ghe or
casion for a more attentive exercise of the Sth
principle, which confirms and grin it i »
than an easier or less attentive eSoreise of 1t i
Now, speculative difficulties are, in this en Mi
the very same nature with these external te P
tions. For the evidence of religion not Ppeating
obvious, is, to some persons, a temptation ’ 5
it, without any consideration at all; pad fini
requires such an attentive exorcise of ons
principle, seriously to consider that evi ae,
there would be no occasion for, but for such tovp-
tation. And the supposed doubtfulness of i $9
dence, after it has been in some sort ol erec ;
affords opportunity to an untair mind, i gr on
away, and deceitfully hiding from itself, het ev
dence which it might see: and also for ne en-
couraging themselves in vice, from He in
nity, though they do clearly see thus much at leas
that these hopes are uncertain : in like Gi
the common temptation to many Instances of 0 0
which end in temporal infamy and ruin, is the
ground for hope of not being detected, and of oy
ing with impunity; that is, the doubtfulness 0 ie
proof beforehand, that such foolish behaviour wi
thus end in infamy and ruin. On the Sap,
supposed doubtfulness in the evidence of religion

 

 

# Part i. chap. 5.

435

calls for a more careful and attentiv
virtuous principle, in fairly yieldin
to the proper influence of any real evidence, though
doubtful; and in practising conscientiously all vir-
tue, though under some uncertainty, whether the
government in the universe may not possibly be
such, as that vice may escape with impunity. And,
in general, temptation, meaning

¢ by this word the
lesser allurements to wrong, and difficulties in the
discharge of our d

uty, as well as the greater ones;
temptation, I say, as such, and of every kind and
degree, as it calls forth some virtuous efforts, addi-
tional to what would otherwise h
cannot but be an additional discipline and improve-
ment of virtue, as well as probation of it, in the
other senses of that word, *
account is to be given, why the evidence of religion
should be left in such a manner, as to require, in
some, an attentive, solicitous, perhaps painful, ex-
ercise of their understanding about it; as why
others should be placed in such circumstances, as
that the practice of its common duties, after a full
conviction of the truth of it, should re
tion, solicitude, and pains;
fulness should be permitt
temptation to some;

e exercise of the
g themselves up

ave been wanting,

So that the very same

quire atten-
or why appearing doubt-
ed to afford matter of

as why external difficulties and
allurements should be permitted to afford matter of

temptation to others. The same account also is to
be given, why some should be exercised with temp-
tations of both these kinds, as why others should he
exercised with the latter in such very high degrees,

* Part i. chap. 4. and page 291.
T2

 
 

 

436

as some have been, particularly as the primitive
Christians were. An

Nor does there appear any absurdity in suppos-
ing, that the speculative difficulties in which 2
evidence of religion is involved, may make even the

inci iS sons’ trial. For, as the
principal part of some persons Jue Ey ’ a
chief temptations of the generality of the wor ; a :
the ordinary motives to injustice or Sn
pleasure; or to live in the neglect of religion, from
that frame of mind, which renders many persons al-
most without feeling as to any thing distant, or
which is not the object of their senses; so there are
other persons without this shallowness of semper,
persons of a deeper sense as to what is invisible an
future, who not only see, but have a general prac-
tical feeling, that what is to come will be present,
and that things are not less real, for their not holy
the objects of sense; and who, from their natura
constitution of body and of temper, and from their
external condition, may have small temptations to
behave ill, small difficulty in behaving well, in the
common course of life. Now, when these latter
persons have a distinct, full conviction of the truth
of religion, without any possible doubts or ies
ties, the practice of it is to them unavoidab e, il
less they will do a constant violence to fel: > B
minds; and religion is scarce any more a discipline
to them, than it is to creatures in a state of pertec-
tion. Yet these persons may possibly stand in
need of moral discipline and exercise in a higher
degree than they would have by such an easy prac-
tice of religion. Or it may be requisite, for rea-
sons unknown to us, that they should give some

437

further manifestation* what is their moral charac-
ter, to the creation of God, than such a practice of
it would be. Thus, in the great variety of religious
situations in which men are placed, what constitutes,
what chiefly and peculiarly constitutes the probation,
in all senses, of some persons, may be the difficul-
ties in which the evidence of religion is involved;
and their principal and distinguished trial may be,
how they will behave under and with respect to
these difficulties. Circumstances in men’s situation
in their temporal capacity, analogous in good mea-
sure to this, respecting religion, are to be ob-
served. We find, some persons are placed in such
a situation in the world, as that their chief diffi-
culty, with regard to conduct, is not the doing what
is prudent when it is known; for this, in number-
less cases, is as easy as the contrary: but to some,
the principal exercise is, recollection, and being
upon their guard against deceits, the deceits, sup-

pose, of those about them; against false appearances

ry . -
of reason and prudence. To persons in some situ-

ations, the principal exercise, with respect to con-
duct, is attention, in order to inform themselves

what is proper, what is really the reasonable and
prudent part to act.

But as I have hitherto gone upon supposition,
that men’s dissatisfaction with the evidence of reli-
gion, is not owing to their neglects or prejudices;
it must be added, on the other hand, in all common
reason, and as what the truth of the case plainly re-
quires should be added, that such dissatisfaction pos-

 

¢ Page 291.

 
 

438

sibly may be owing to those, possibly may be men’s
own fault. For,

If there are any persons who never set them-
selves heartily, and in earnest, to be informed in
religion; if there are any, who secretly wish it may
not prove true, and are less attentive to evidence
than to difficulties, and more to objections, than to
what is said in answer to them; these persons will
scarce be thought in a likely way of seeing the evi-
dence of religion, though it were most certainly
true, and capable of being ever so fully proved.
If any accustom themselves to consider this subject
usually in the way of mirth and sport; if they at-
tend to forms and representations, and inadequate
manners of expression, instead of the real things
intended by them, (for signs often can be no more
than inadequately expressive of the things signi-
fied); or, if they substitute human errors in the
room of divine truth; why may not all, or any of
these things, hinder some men from seeing that evi-
dence, which really is seen by others; as a like
turn of mind, with respect to matters of common
speculation and practice, does, we find by experi-
ence, hinder them from attaining that knowledge
and right understanding, in matters of common spe-
culation and practice, which more fair and attentive
minds attain to? And the effect will be the same,
whether their neglect of seriously considering the
evidence of religion, and their indirect behaviour
with regard to it, proceed from mere carelessness,
or from the grosser vices; or whether it be owing
to this, that forms, and figurative manners of ex-
pression, as well as errors, administer occasions of

439

ridicule, when the things intended, and the truth
itself, would not. Men may indulge a ludicrous
turn so far, as to lose all sense of conduct and pru-
dence in worldly affairs, and even, as it seems, to
impair their faculty of reason. And in general, le-
vity, carelessness, passion, and prejudice, do hinder
us from being rightly informed with respect to com-
mon things; and they may, in like manner, and
perhaps in some farther providential manner, with
respect to moral and religious subjects; may hinder
evidence from being laid before us, and from being
scen when it is. The Secripture* does declare,
“that every one shall not understand.” And it
makes no difference by what providential conduct
this comes to pass; whether the evidence of Chris-
tianity was, originally and with design, put and left
so, as that those who are desirous of evading moral
obligations, should not see it, and that honest-mind-
ed persons should; or whether it comes to pass by
any other means.

Farther: the general proof of natural religion and
of Christianity, does, I think, lie level to common
men: even those, the greatest part of whose time,
from childhood to old age, is taken up with provid-

 

* Dan. xii. 10. See also Isaiah xxix. 13, 14. Matt. vi. 23,
and xi. 25. and xiii. 11, 12. John iii. 19. and v. 44. 1 Cor.
ii. 14. and 2 Cor. iv. 4. 2 Tim. iii. 13. and that affectionate,
as well as authoritative admonition, so very many times incul-
cated, ‘‘ He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.” Grotius saw
so strongly the thing intended in these and other passages of
Scripture of the like sense, as to say, that the. proof given us of
Christianity was less than it might have been, for this very pur-
pose : Ut ita sermo Evangelii tanquam lapis esset Lydius ad quem
ingenia sanabilia explorarentur. De Ver. R. C. lib. 2. towards
the end.

 
 

440

ing, for themselves and their families, the common
conveniences, perhaps necessaries, of life; those, I
mean, of this rank, who ever think at all of asking
after proof, or attending to it. Common men, were
they as much in earnest about religion as about their
temporal affairs, are capable of being convinced upon
real evidence, that there is a God who governs the
world; and they feel themselves to be of a moral
nature, and accountable creatures. And as Chris-
tianity entirely falls in with this their natural sense
of things, so they are capable, not only of being
persuaded, but of being made to see, that there
is evidence of miracles wrought in attestation of it,
and many appearing completions of prophecy. But
though this proof is real and conclusive, yet it is
liable to objections, and may be run up into diffi-
culties; which, however, persons who are capable,
not only of talking of, but of really sceing, are
capable also of seeing through; that is, not of clear-
ing up and answering them, so as to satisfy their

curiosity, for of such knowledge we are not capable

with respect to any one thing in nature; but capable
of seeing that the proof is not lost in these difficul-
ties, or destroyed by these objections. But then a
thorough examination into religion, with regard to
these objections, which cannot be the business of
every man, is a matter of pretty large compass, and,
from the nature of it, requires some knowledge,
as well as time and attention, to see how the evi-
dence comes out, upon balancing one thing with
another, and What, upon the whole, is the amount
of it. Now, if persons who have picked up these
objections from others, and take for granted they

441

are of weight, upon the word of those from whom
they received them, or, by often retailing of them,
come to see, or fancy they see, them to be of weight,
will not prepare themselves for such an examination,
with a competent degree of knowledge; or will not
give that time and attention to the subject, which,
from the nature of it, is necessary for attaining such
information: in this case, they must remain in doubt-
fulness, ignorance, or error; in the same way as
they must with regard to common sciences, and
matters of common life, if they neglect the neces-
sary means of being informed in them.

But still, perhaps, it will be objected, that if a
prince or common master were to send directions to
a servant, he would take care that they should al-
ways bear the certain marks who they came from,
and that their sense should be always plain; so as
that there should be no possible doubt, if he could
help it, concerning the authority or meaning of them.
Now, the proper answer to all this kind of objections
is, that, wherever the fallacy lies, it is even certain
we cannot argue thus with respect to him who is the
governor of the world; and particularly, that he
does not afford us such information, with respect to
our temporal affairs and interests, as experience
abundantly shows. However, there is a full answer
to this objection, from the very nature of religion.
For the reason why a prince would give his direc-
tions in this plain manner, is that he absolutely
desires such an external action should be done, with-
out concerning himself with the motive or principle
upon which it is done; that is, he regards only the
external event, or the thing being done, and not

T3

 
 

442

at all, properly speaking, the doing of it, or the
action. Whereas, the whole of morality and reli-
gion consisting merely in action itself, there is no
sort of parallel between the cases. But if the prince
be supposed to regard only the action; that is, only
to desire to exercise, or in any sense prove, the un-

derstanding or loyalty of a servant, he would not
always give his orders in such a plain manner. It
may be proper to add, that the will of God, respect-
ing morality and religion, may be considered, either
as absolute, or as only conditional. If it be abso-
lute, it can only be thus, that we should act virtu-
ously in such given circumstances; not that we should
be brought to act so, by his changing of our cir-
cumstances. And if God’s will be thus absolute,
then it is in our power, in the highest and strictest
sense, to do or to contradict his will; which is a
most weighty consideration. Or his will may be
considered only as conditional,—that if we act so and
so, we shall be rewarded ; if otherwise, punished: of
which conditional will of the Author of nature, the
whole constitution of it affords most certain instances.

Upon the whole: that we are in a state of reli-
gion necessarily implies, that we are in a state of
probation : and the credibility of our being at all in
such a state being admitted, there seems no peculiar
difficulty in supposing our probation to be, just as
it is, in those respects which are above objected
against. There seems no pretence, from the reason
of the thing, to say, that the trial cannot equitably
be any thing, but whether persons will act suitably
to certain information, or such as admits no room
for doubt; so as that there can be no danger of mis-

443

carriage, but either from their not attending to what
they certainly know, or from overbearing passion
hurrying them on to act contrary to it.  Ior, since
ignorance and doubt afford scope for probation in all
senses, as really as intuitive conviction or certainty ;
and since the two former are to be put to the same
account, as difficulties in practice ; men’s moral pro-
bation may also be, whether they will take due care
to inform themselves by impartial consideration, and
afterwards whether they will act as the case requires,
upon the evidence which they have, however doubt-
ful. And this, we find by experience, is frequently
our probation,* in our temporal capacity. For the
information which we want, with regard to our
worldly interests, is by no means always given us of
course, without any care of our own. And we are
greatly liable to self-deceit from inward secret pre-
judices ; and also to the deceit of others. So that
to be able to judge what is the prudent part, often
requires much and difficult consideration. Then,
after we have judged the very best we can, the evi-
dence upon which we must act, if we will live and
act at all, is perpetually doubtful to a very high
degree. And the constitution and course of the
world in fact is such, as that want of impartial con-
sideration what we have to do, and venturing upon
extravagant courses, because it is doubtful what will
be the consequences, are often naturally, that is,
providentially, altogether as fatal, as misconduct
occasioned by heedless inattention to what we cer-

 

* Pages 216, 433, 436, 438.

 
 

 

 

 

 

444

tainly know, or disregarding it from overbearing
passion.

Several of the observations here made may well
seem strange, perhaps unintelligible to many good
men. But if the persons for whose sake they are
made, think so; persons who object as above, and
throw off all regard to religion under pretence of
want of evidence; I desire them to consider again,
whether their thinking so, be owing to any thing
unintelligible in these observations, or to their own
not having such a sense of religion, and serious so-
licitude about it, as even their state of scepticism
does in all reason require? It ought to be forced
upon the reflection of these persons, that our nature
and condition necessarily require us, in the daily
course of life, to act upon evidence much lower than
what is commonly called probable; to guard not only
against what we fullv believe will, but also against
what we think it supposable may, happen; and to
engage in pursuits when the probability is greatly
against success, if it be credible that possibly we
may succeed in them.

CHAP. VII.

Of the particular Evidence for Christianity.

Tue presumptions against revelation, and objec-
tions against the general scheme of Christianity, and
particular things relating to it, being removed, there
remains to be considered, what positive evidence we
have for the truth of it: chiefly in order to see, what
the analogy of nature suggests with regard to that
evidence, and the objections against it; or to see
what is, and is allowed to be, the plain natural rule
of judgment and of action in our temporal concerns,
in cases where we have the same kind of evidence,
and the same kind of objections against it, that we
have in the case before us.

Now, in the evidence of C hristianity, there seems
to be several things of great weight, not reducible to
the head, cither of miracles, or the completion of
prophecy, in the common acceptation of the words.
But these two are its direct and fundamental proofs;
and those other things, however considerable they
are, yet ought never to be urged apart from its di-
rect proofs; but always to be joined with them.
Thus the evidence of Christianity will be a long
series of things, reaching, as it seems, from the be-
ginning of the world to the present time, of great
variety and compass, taking in both the direct, and
also the collateral proofs, and making up, all of them
together, one argument ; the conviction arising from

which kind of proof may be compared to what they

 

 
 

446

i of art;
call the effect in architecture or oe works 5 bt
) r er of things so a
Se i Zia view. 1 al therefore,
1 n into on .
disposed, and take Nps
make some observations relating to Sik .
Hi i ? vw: and con-
and the appearing completions of prophecy; : va
in answer to the objec-
sider what analogy sagen SN
i inst this evidence. 5
tions brought agai : ny,
I shall endeavour to give some account of he gen
. iat oe
ral arcument now mentioned, consisting oy 10 n
Liralt 3 idered as making
i ral evidence, consi
direct and collateral 3
wt: this being the kind of proof, up
up one argument : th g SO
on which we determine most Ji 4 : a
acts > ave happ ’
i 1 facts, alleged to
concerning commor oe Reh,
1 ik n:; especia que
or seeming hoy to happen; esj y
3 3 ft.
relating to conduc : :
First I shall make some observations ur
: J ? - - - - = ro-
direct proof of Christianity from miracles i P
jections it.
hecy and upon the objections alleged against :
- - .
! I. Now, the following observations, relating to
. s . ee
1 ] " mirac roucht in attesta
the historical evidence of miracles wroug as
tion of Christianity, appear to be of great weig b
1. The Old Testament affords us the Se hs
1 " Mos the
torical evidence of the miracles of Moses oa o
ivil histor Moses
prophets as of the common civil et 0 :
2 3 Cr 5
: ; airs of the
< Israel; or, as of the a
and the kings of ; Pen
Jewish nation. And the Gospels and the Ac :
Y - - . . 1 . es
ford us the same historical evidence of the mirac ,
rat-
of Christ and the Apostles, as of the Ean 2
“his, 1 d not have
: in them. This, indeed, cou
ters related in t 01 a
been affirmed by any reasonable man, if the =
: - a - a Xa.
of these books, like many other historians, had ap
j . . § ex ng
eared to make an entertaining manner of yn 3
: i orsed miracles mn
their aim; though they had intersper

447

their works, at proper distances, and upon proper
occasions. - These might have animated a dull rela-
tion, amused the reader, and engaged his attention.
And the same account would naturally have been

given of them, as of the speeches and descriptions

of such authors; the same account, in a manner, as

1s to be given, why the poets make use of wonders
and prodigies. But the facts, both miraculous and
natural, in Scripture, are related in plain unadorned
narratives : and both of them appear, in all respects,
to stand upon the same footing of historical evidence.
Farther: some parts of Scripture, containing an ac-
count of miracles tully sufficient to prove the truth
of Christianity, are quoted as genuine, from the age
in which they are said to be written, down to the
present: and no other parts of them, material in the
present question, are omitted to be quoted in such
manner, as to afford any sort of proof of their not
being genuine. And, as common history, when
called in question in any instance, may often be
greatly confirmed by contemporary or subsequent
events more known and acknowledged ; and as the
common Scripture history, like many others, is thus
confirmed ; so likewise is the miraculous history of
it, not only in particular instances,

but in general.
For,

the establishment of the Jewish and Christian

religions, which were events contemporary with the
miracles related to be wrought in attestation of both,
or subsequent to them, these events are just what
we should have expected, upon supposition such mi-
racles were really wrought to attest the truth of those
religions. These miracles are a satisfactory account
of those events, of which no other satisfactory ac-

 
 

448

count can be given, nor any account at all, but what
is imaginary merely and invented. It is to be ad-
ded, that the most obvious, the most easy and direct
account of this history, how it came to be written,
and to be received in the world as a true history, is,
that it really is so; nor can any other account of it
be easy and direct. Now, though an account, not
at all obvious, but very far-fetched and indirect, may
indeed be, and often is, the true account of a mat-
ter; yet, it cannot be admitted on the authority of
its being asserted. Mere guess, supposition, and
possibility, when oppesed to historical evidence, prove
nothing, but that historical evidence is not demon-
strative.

Now, the just consequence from all this, I think,
is, that the Scripture history, in general, is to be ad-
mitted as an authentic genuine history, till somewhat
positive be alleged sufficient to invalidate it. Dut
no man will deny the consequence to be, that it can-
not be rejected, or thrown by as of no authority,
till it can be proved to be of none; even though the
evidence now mentioned for its authority were doubt-
ful. This evidence may be confronted by historical
evidence on the other side, if there be any; or gen-
eral incredibility in the things related, or inconsis-
tence in the general turn of the history, would prove
it to be of no authority. But since, upon the face
of the matter, upon a first and general view, the ap-
pearance Is, that it is an authentic history, it cannot
be determined to be fictitious without some proof that
it is so. And the following observations, in support
of these, and coincident with them, will greatly con-
&rm the historical evidence for the truth of Chris-
tianity.

449
2. The Epistles of St. Paul, from the nature of

epistolary writing, and moreover, from several of
them being written, not to particular persons, but to
churches, carry in them evidences of their being
genuine, beyond what can be, in a mere historical
narrative, left to the world at large. This evidence,
joined with that which they have in common with
the rest of the New Testament, seems not to leave
SO much as any particular pretence for denying their
genuineness, considered as an ordinary matter of
fact, or of criticism. I say, particular pretence for
denying it; because any single fact of such a kind
and such antiquity, may have general doubts raised
concerning it, from the very nature of human af-
fairs and human testimony. There is also to be
mentioned, a distinct and particular evidence of the

genuineness of the epistle chiefly referred to here,

the first to the Corinthians: from the manner in

which it is quoted by Clemens Romanus, in an epis-

tle of his own to that Church.* Now, these epis-

tles afford a proof of Christianity, detached from all

others, which is, I think, a thing of weight; and al-

so a proof of a nature and kind peculiar to itself.

For,

In them the author declares, that he received the
gospel in general, and the institution of the commu-
nion in particular, not from the rest of the apostles,
or jointly together with them, but alone, from Christ
himself; whom he declares, likewise, conformably to
the history in the Acts, that he saw after his ascen-
sion. So that the testimony of St. Paul is to be

 

* Clem. Rom. Ep. I. ch. 47.
+ Gal. i. 1 Cor. xi. 23, %c. 1 Cor xv. 8.

 
 

450

considered as detached from that of the rest of the
apostles. :
And he declares farther, that he was endued with
a power of working miracles, as what was publicly
known to this very people; speaks of frequent and
great variety of miraculous gifts, as then subsisting
in those very churches to which he was writing;
which he was reproving for several irregularities, and
where he had personal opposers: he mentions these
gifts incidentally, in the most easy manner, and with-
out effort ; by way of reproof to those who had them,
for their indecent use of them; and by way of depre-
ciating them, in comparison of moral virtues. In
short, he speaks to these churches, of these miracu-
lous powers, in the manner any one would speak to
another of a thing, which was as familiar, and as
much known in common to them both, as any thing
in the world.* And this, as hath been observed by
several persons, is surely a very considerable thing.
3. It is an acknowledged historical fact, that Chris-
tianity offered itself to the world, and demanded to
be received, upon the allegation, that is, as unbe-
lievers would speak, upon the pretence of miracles,
publicly wrought to attest the truth of it in such an
age; and that it was actually received by great numbers
in that vety age, and upon the professed belief of the
reality of these miracles. And Christianity, includ-
ing the dispensation of the Old Testament, seems
distinguished by this from all other religions. I
mean that this does not appear to be the case with

 

* Rom. xv. 19. 1 Cor. xii. 8, 9, 10—28, &e. and chap. xiii.
1, 2, 8. and the whole xivth chap. 2 Cor. xii. 12, 13. Gal
iil, 2, 5.

451

regard to any other. For surely it will not be sup-
posed to lie upon any person, to prove, by positive
historical evidence, that it was not. It does in no
sort appear that Mahometanism was first received in
the world upon the footing of supposed miracles, * that
is, public ones: for, as revelation is itself miraculous,
all pretence to it must necessarily imply some pre-
tence of miracles. And it is a known fact, that it
was immediately, at the very first, propagated by
other means. And as particular institutions, whe-
ther in paganism or popery, said to be confirmed by
miracles, after those institutions had obtained, are not
to the purpose; so, were there what might be called
historical proof, that any of them were introduced by
a supposed divine command, believed to be attested
by miracles, these would not be in any wise parallel.
For single things of this sort are easy to be account-
ed for, after parties are formed, and have power in
their hands; and the leaders of them are in venera-
tion with the multitude; and political interests are
blended with religious claims, and religious distinc-
tions. But before any thing of this kind, for a few
persons, and those of the lowest rank, all at once, to
bring over such great numbers to a new religion, and
get it to be received upon the particular evidence of
miracles ; this is quite another thing. And I think
it will be allowed by any fair adversary, that the fact
now mentioned, taking in all the circumstances of it,
is peculiar to the Christian religion. However, the
fact itself is allowed, that Christianity obtained, that
is, was professed to be received in the world, upon

 

* See the Koran, chap. xiii. and chap, xvii.

 
 

———

pe

—— -

he

452

the belief of miracles, immediately in the age in which
it is said those miracles were wrought: or that this is
what its first converts would have alleged, as the
reason for their embracing it. Now, certainly it is
not to be supposed, that such numbers of men, in the
most distant parts of the world, should forsake the
religion of their country, in which they had been
educated ; separate themselves from their friends,
particularly in their festival shows and solemnities, to
which the common people are so greatly addicted, and
which were of a nature to engage them much more
than any thing of that sort amongst us; and embrace
a religion, which could not but expose them to many
inconveniences, and indeed must have been a giving up
the world in a great degree, even from the very first,
and before the empire engaged in form against them:
it cannot be supposed, that such numbers should make
so great, and, to say the least, so inconvenient a
change in their whole institution of life, unless they
were really convinced of the truth of those miracles,
upon the knowledge or belief of which they pro-
fessed to make it. And it will, I suppose, readily
be acknowledged, that the generality of the first con-
verts to Christianity must have believed them; that
as, by becoming Christians, they declared to the
world they were satisfied of the truth of those mira-
cles, so this declaration was to be credited. And
this their testimony is the same kind of evidence for
those miracles, as if they had put it in writing, and
these writings had come down to us. And it is real

evidence, because it is of facts, which they had
capacity and full opportunity to inform themselves
of. It is also distinct from the direct or express

453

historical evidence, though it is of the same kind;
and it would be allowed to be distinct in all cases.
For, were a fact expressly related by one or more
ancient historians, and disputed in after ages; that
this fact is acknowledged to have been believed, by
great numbers of the age in which the historian
says it was done, would be allowed an additional
proof of such fact, quite distinct from the express
testimony of the historian. The credulity of man-
kind is acknowledged, and the suspicions of mankind
ought to be acknowledged too; and their backward-
ness even to believe, and greater still to practise,
what makes against their interest. And it must
particularly be remembered, that education, and pre-
judice, and authority, were against Christianity, in
the age I am speaking of. So that the immediate
conversion of such numbers, is a real presumption of
somewhat more than human in this matter: I say
presumption, for it is not alleged as a proof, alone
and by itself. Nor need any one of the things men-
tioned in this Chapter be considered as a proof by
itself; and yet all of them together may be one of
the strongest.

Upon the whole: As there is large historical evi-
dence, both direct and circumstantial, of miracles
wrought in attestation of Christianity, collected by
those who have writ upon the subject, it lies upon
unbelievers to.show, why this evidence is not to be
credited. This way of speaking is, I think, just,
and what persons who write in defence of religion
naturally fall into. Yet in a matter of such un-
speakable importance, the proper question is, not
whom it lies upon, according to the rules of argu-

 
 

oN

ee
pe

454

ment, to maintain or confute objections; but whether
there really are any, against this evidence, sufficient
in reason, to destroy the credit of it? However,
unbelievers seem to take upon them the part of
showing that there are.

They allege, that numberless enthusiastic people,
in different ages and countries, expose themselves to
the same difficulties which the primitive Christians
did; and are ready to give up their lives, for the
most idle follies imaginable. But it is not very
clear, to what purpose this objection 1s brought. >
every one, surely, in every case, must distinguish
between opinions and facts. And though testimony
is no proof of enthusiastic opinions, or of any opi-
nions at all; yet it is allowed, in all other eal
be a proof of facts. And a person laying down his
life in attestation of facts, or of opinions, is the strong-
est proof of his believing them. And if the apos-
tles and their contemporaries did believe the facts, in
attestation of which they exposed themselves to suf-
ferings and death, this their belief, or rather mow.
ledge, must be a proof of those facts; for they were
such as came under the observation of their senses.
And though it is not of equal weight, yet it is 4
weight, that the martyrs of the next age, 5 -
standing they were not eye-witnesses of those Sts
as were the apostles and their contemporaries, had,
however, full opportunity to inform themselves, We
ther they were true or not, and give equal proof o
their believing them to be true.

But enthusiasm, it is said, greatly weakens the
evidence of testimony, even for facts, in matters
lating to religion; some seem to think, it totally an

455

absolutely destroys the evidence of testimony upon
this subject. And, indeed, the powers of enthu-
siasm, and of diseases, too, which operate in a like
manner, are very wonderful, in particular instances.
But if great numbers of men, not appearing in any
peculiar degree weak, nor under any peculiar sus-
picion of negligence, affirm that they saw and heard
such things plainly with their eyes and their ears,
and are admitted to be in earnest ; such testimony is
evidence of the strongest kind we can have, for any
matter of fact. Yet, possibly it may be overcome,
strong as it is, by incredibility in the things thus
attested, or by contrary testimony. And in an in-
stance where one thought it was so overcome, it
might be just to consider, how far such evidence
could be accounted for by enthusiasm: for it seems
as if no other imaginable account were to be given
of it. But till such incredibility be shown, or con-
trary testimony produced, it cannot surely be ex-
pected, that so far-fetched, so indirect and wonder-
ful an account of such testimony, as that of enthu-
siasm must be; an account so strange, that the
generality of mankind can scarce be made to under-
stand what is meant by it; it cannot, I say, be ex-
pected, that such account will be admitted of such
evidence, when there is this direct, easy, and obvious
account of it, that people really saw and heard a
thing not incredible, which they affirm sincerely,
and with full assurance, they did see and hear.
Granting, then, that enthusiasm is not (strictly
speaking) an absurd, but a possible account of such
testimony, it is manifest that the very mention of it
goes upon the previous supposition, that the things

 
 

456

i not be
so attested are incredible; and therefore ho he
considered, till they are shown se be i famlen

i idered, after the contrary has
need it be considered, . y >
roved. And I think it has been proved, to i
: - . . n, . «3 reve a-
De daetiors that there is no incredibility 2
1 1S
tion, in general, or in such a one as the Chr
i patios However, as religion is none pe
, bl i it may just be observed,
i i thusiasm, it may jus
culiarly liable to en : Rahs gus
judices almost without number,
that prejudices a Sih
a romance, affectation, humour, a do 2
i y prise, the party-spirit, cus-
» attention or to surprise, spi :
JRgee iti countable likings an
i titions, unaccou g
tom, little compe : 3 »
oliki ; these influence men strongly in comm
Hbingonis d as these prejudices are often scarce
es : S &
matters. nd as th 5 A
known or reflected upon by the persons ens :
: ‘onsi-
who are influenced by them, they in to ur Oa
' i (di jusiasm.
i ; of a like kind to en
dered as influences o ) a
Yet human testimony in common matters is nat
| jus ieved notwithstanding.
rally and justly believec : ing es
Tt is intimated farther, in a more refined ! got
bservation, that though it should be proved,
| : Christians, could not, in some
rst Christians, could >
the apostles and firs 3
res Te be deceived themselves, and, in other x
3 ; 2 ol
s ee cannot be thought to have intended to 3 '
) . . a
pee upon the world, yet, it will not follow, t ;
bt sti is to be believed, though
their general testimony is Rog
: m
> m to us; because they
truly handed down ow
i at is, in other respects, be dece
in part, that is, in o : ae
be and in part also designedly impose oy
: 1 i redible,
‘hich, it is added, is a thing very c
others; which, it is a , : iy
from that mixture of real enthusiasm, and rea io
very, to be met with in the same characters. a :
- » n
I must confess, I think the matter of fact contal

457

in this observation upon mankind, is not to he de-
nied; and that somewhat very much a-kin to it, is
often supposed in Scripture, as a very common case,
and most severely reproved. But it were to have
been expected, that persons capable of applying
this observation, as applied in the objection, might

also frequently have met with the like mixed

char-
acter, in inst

ances where religion was quite out of
the case. The thing plainly is, that mankind are
naturally endued with reason, or a capacity of dis-
tinguishing between truth and falsehood; and as
naturally they are endued with veracity, or a re-
gard to truth in what they say: but from many
occasions, they are liable to be prejudiced, and
biassed, and deceived themselves, and capable of in-
tending to deceive others, in every different degree ;
insomuch that, as we are all liable to be deceived
by prejudice, so likewise it seems to be not an un-
common thing, for persons who, from their regard
to truth, would not invent a lie entirely without any
foundation at all, to propagate it with heightening
circumstances, after jt 1s once invented, and set
a-going. And others, though they would not pro-
pagate a lie, yet, which is a lower degree of false-
hood, will let it pass without contradiction, But,
notwithstanding all this,

human testimony remains
still a natural ground of assent; and this assent, a
natural principle of action.

It is objected farther, that however it
pened, the fact is, that mankind have,

ages, been strangely deluded with pretences to mir-

has hap-

in different

acles and wonders, But it is by no means to he

admitted, that they have been oftener, or are at all
U 17

 
 

458

more liable to be deceived by these pretences, than
by others.

Tt is added, that there is a very considerable de-
gree of historical evidence for miracles, which are
on all hands, acknowledged to be fabulous. But
suppose that there were even the like historical evi-
dence for these, to what there is for those alleged
in proof of Christianity, which yet is in nowise al-
lowed, but suppose this; the consequence would
not be, that the evidence of the latter is not to be
admitted. Nor is there a man in the world who,
in common cases, would conclude thus. For what
would such a conclusion really amount to but this,
that evidence confuted by contrary evidence, or any
way overbalanced, destroys the credibility of other
evidence, neither confuted, nor overbalanced? To
argue, that because there is, if there were, like evi-
dence from testimony, for miracles acknowledged
false, as for those in attestation of Christianity,
therefore the evidence in the latter case is not to be
credited ; this is the same as to argue, that if two
men of equally good reputation had given evidence
in different cases no way connected, and one of them
had been convicted of perjury, this confuted the tes-
timony of the other.

Upon the whole, then, the general observation
that human creatures are so liable to be deceived,
from enthusiasm in religion, and principles equiva-
lent to enthusiasm in common matters, and in both
from negligence; and that they are so capable of
dishonestly endeavouring to deceive others; this
does indeed weaken the evidence of testimony in all
cases, but does not destroy it in any. And these

459

things will appear to different men to weaken the
evidence of testimony in different de
grees proportionable to the observ
made, or the notions tl

grees; in de-
ations they have
) 1ey have any way taken up,
concerning the weakness, and negligence, and dis-

honesty of mankind : i
y mankind; or concerning the powers of

enthusiasm, and prejudices equivalent to it. But it
seems to me, that people do not know what they say,
who affirm these things to destroy the evidence from
testimony, which we have of the truth of Christianity.
Nothing can destroy the evidence of testimony in any
case, but a proof or probability, that persons are
not competent judges of the facts to which they give
testimony ; or that they are actually under some in-
direct influence in giving it, in such particular case.
Ill this be made out, the natural laws of human
actions require that testimony be admitted.
never be sufficient to overthrow direct his
dence, indolently to say, that there are so many prin-
ciples, from whence men are liable to be deceived
themselves and disposed to deceive others, especially
in matters of religion, that one knows not what to
Halles Bon it Is surprising persons can help re-
. a : 7p ow Af Be
toe 8 4 ; 8 a of speaking supposes,
satis at there is nothing in the evi-
dence, of which they speak thus; or that they can
avoid observing, if they do make this reflection, that
1t 1s, on such a subject, a very material one. *
And over against all these objections, is to be set
the importance of Christianity, as what must have
engaged the attention of its first converts,

It can
torical evi-

SO as to

* See the foregoing Chapter.

U2

 
 

460

have rendered them less liable to be deceived from
carelessness, than they would in common matters;
and likewise the strong obligations to veracity, which
their religion laid them under: so that the first and
most obvious presumption is, that they could not be
deceived themselves, nor would deceive others. And
this presumption, in this degree, is peculiar to the
testimony we have been considering.

In argument, assertions are nothing in them-
selves, and have an air of positiveness, which some-
times is not very easy: yet they are necessary, and
necessary to be repeated, in order to connect a dis-
course, and distinctly to lay before the view of the
reader, what is proposed to be proved, and what is
left as proved. Now, the conclusion from the fore-
going observations is, I think, beyond all doubt this:
that unbelievers must be forced to admit the exter-
nal evidence for Christianity, that is, the proof of
miracles wrought to attest it, to be of real weight
and very considerable ; though they cannot allow it
to be sufficient, to convince them of the reality of
those miracles. And as they must, in all reason,
admit this, so it seems to me, that upon considera-
tion they would, in fact, admit it; those of them, I
mean, who know any thing at all of the matter: in
like manner as persons, in many cases, own, they
see strong evidence from testimony, for the truth of
things, which yet they cannot be convinced are true;
cases, suppose, where there is contrary testimony,
or things which they think, whether with or without
reason, to be credible. Dut there is no testimony
contrary to that which we have been considering ;
and it has been fully proved, that there is no incre-

461
dibility in Cl
of it.

, II. As to the evidence for Christianity from pro-
phecy, I shall only make some few general observa-
tions, which are suggested b
that 1 : ;
sy by the acknow ledged natural rules of judging
in common matters concerning evidence of a like
kind to this from prophecy.

1. The obscuri i 101 ]
eas ! ty or unintelligibleness of one part
prophecy, does not in any degree, invalidate the
proof’ of foresight, arising from t
pletion of those other parts whi
For the case is evide

wistianity in general, or in any part

y the analogy of nature:

he appearing com-
ch are understood.
ntly the same, as if those parts
which are not understood, were lost, or not writt

at all, or written in an unknown tongue. Whe.
ther this observation be commonly attended to or
not, it is so evident, that one can scarce bring one’s
self to set down an instance in common matters "
exemplify it. However, suppose a writing, peed

m cypher, and partly in plain words at Yoriath "
that in the part one understood, there appeared Fn
tion of several known facts; it would never come into
any man’s thoughts to imagine, that if he understood
the whole, perhaps he might find, that those facts
were not in reality known by the writer.

Indeed
both in this example, and the tl

ung intended to b
. . > e
exemplified by it, our not understanding the whole
(the whole, suppose, of a sentence or

a paragraph)
- - 5
might sometimes occasion a doubt, whe

ther one un-

derstood the li i
| e literal meaning of such a part; but this
comes under another consideration.

I or the sam =

or opportunities of

 
 

462

inquiry, or from not having turned his studies this
way, even so much as to judge, whether particular

prophecies have been throughout completely fulfilled ;
yet he may see, in general, that they have been
fulfilled to such a degree, as, upon very good
ground, to be convinced of foresight more than
human in such prophecies, and of such events being
intended by them. For the same reason also, though
by means of the deficiencies in civil history, and the
different accounts of historians, the most learned
should not be able to make out to satisfaction, that
such parts of the prophetic history have been mi-
nutely and throughout fulfilled ; yet, a very strong
proof of foresight may arise, from that general com-
pletion of them which is made out: as much proof
of foresight, perhaps, as the Giver of prophecy in-
tended should ever be afforded by such parts of
rophecy.

P y A long series of prophecy being applicable to
such and such events, is itself a proof, that it was
intended of them; as the rules by which we natu-
rally judge and determine, in common cases parallel
to this, will show. This observation I make in an-
swer to the common objection against the application
of the prophecies, that considering each of them dis-
tinctly by itself, it does not at all appear, that they
were intended of those particular events to which
they are applied by Christians ; and therefore it is
to be supposed, that, if they meant any thing, they
were intended of other events unknown to us, and
not of these at all.

Now, there are two kinds of writing, which bear
a great resemblance to prophecy, with respect to the

463

matter before us; the mythological and the satirical,
where the satire is, to a certain degree, concealed.
And a man might be assured, that he understood
what an author intended by a fable or parable, related
without any application or moral, merely from seeing
it to be easily capable of such application, and that
such a moral might naturally be deduced from it.
And he might be fully assured, that such persons
and events were intended in a satirical writing, mere-
ly from its being applicable to them. And, agree-
ably to the last observation, he might be in a good
measure satisfied of it, though he were not enough
informed in affairs or in the story of such persons,
to understand half the satire. For, his satisfaction,
that he understood the meaning, the intended mean-
ing, of these writings, would be greater or less, in
proportion as he saw the general turn of them to be
capable of such application, and in proportion to the
number of particular things capable of it. And thus,
if a long series of prophecy is applicable to the pre-
sent state of the church, and to the political situa-
tions of the kingdoms of the world, some thousand
years after these prophecies were delivered, and a
long series of prophecy delivered before the coming
of Christ is applicable to him; these things are in
themselves a proof, that the prophetic history was
intended of him, and of those events; in propor-
tion as the general turn of it is capable of such
application, and to the number and variety of parti-
cular prophecies capable of it. And, though in all
just way of consideration, the appearing completion
of prophecies is to be allowed to be thus explanatory
of, and to determine their meaning; yet it is to be

 
 

464

remembered farther, that the ancient Jews applied
the prophecies to a Messiah before his coming, in
much the same manner as Christians do now; and
that the primitive Christians interpreted the prophe-
cies respecting the state of the church and of the
world, in the last ages, in the sense which the event
seems to confirm and verify. And from these things
it may be made to appear,

3. That the showing, even to a high probability, if
that could be, that the prophets thought of some
other events, in such and such predictions, and not
those at all which Christians allege to be completions
of those predictions; or that such and such prophe-
cies are capable of being applied to other events than
those to which Christians apply them —that this
would not confute or destroy the force of the argu-
ment from prophecy, even with regard to those very
instances. For, observe how this matter really is.
If one knew such a person to be the sole author of
such a book, and was certainly assured, or satisfied
to any degree, that one knew the whole of what he
intended in it, one should be assured or satisfied to
such a degree, that one knew the whole meaning of
that book ; for the meaning of a book is nothing but
the meaning of the author. But if one knew a per-
son to have compiled a book out of memoirs, which
he received from another, of vastly superior know-
ledge in the subject of it, especially if it were a book
full of great intricacies and difficulties, it would in
nowise follow, that one knew the whole meaning of
the book, from knowing the whole meaning of the
compiler; for the original memoirs, that is, the au-
thor of them, might have, and there would be no

465
degree of presumption, in many cases, against sup-
posing him to have, some farther meaning than the
compiler saw. To say, then, that the Scriptures
and the things contained in them can have no other
or farther meaning, than those persons thought or
had, who first recited or wrote them, is evidently
saying, that those persons were the original, proper,
and sole authors of those books, that is, that they
are not inspired ; which is absurd, whilst the autho-
rity of these books is under examination, that is,
till you have determined they are of no divine au-
thority at all. Till this be determined, it must in all
reason be supposed, not indeed that they have, for
this is taking for granted that they are inspired, but
that they may have some farther meaning than what
the compilers saw or understood. And, upon this
supposition, it is supposable also, that this farther
meaning may be fulfilled. Now, events correspond-
ing to prophecies, interpreted in a different meaning
from that in which the prophets are supposed to have
understood them; this affords, in a manner, the
same proof that this different sense was originally
intended, as it would have afforded, if the prophets
had not understood their predictions in the sense it
is supposed they did; because there is no presump-
tion of their sense of them being the whole sense of
them. And it has been already shown, that the
apparent completions of prophecy must be allowed
to be explanatory of its meaning. So that the ques-
tion is, whether a series of prophecy has been ful-
filled, in a natural or proper, that is, in any real,
sense of the words of it. For such completion is
equally a proof of foresight more than human, whe-
U3

 
 

466

ther the prophets are, on are not, supposed to have
understood it in a different sense. I say, supposed;
for though I think it clear, that the prophets did
not understand the full meaning of their predictions,
it is another question, how far they thought they
did, and in what sense they understood them.
Hence may be seen, to how little purpose those
persons busy themselves, who endeavour to prove
that the prophetic history is applicable to events of
the age in which it was written, or of ages before it.
Indeed, to have proved this before there was any
appearance of a further completion of it, might have
answered some purpose ; for it might have prevented
the expectation of any such farther completion.
Thus, could Porphyry have shown, that some prin-
cipal parts of the book of Daniel, for instance, the
seventh verse of the seventh chapter, which the
Christians interpreted of the latter ages, was appli-
cable to events which happened before or about the
age of Antiochus Epiphanes; this might have pre-
vented them from expecting any farther completion
of it. And unless there was then, as I think there

must have been, external evidence concerning that

book, more than is come down to us, such a dis-
covery might have been a stumbling-block in the
way of Christianity itself; considering the authority
which our Saviour has given to the book of Daniel,
and how much the general scheme of Christianity
presupposes the truth of it. But even this dis-
covery, had there been any such,* would be of very

 

* It appears, that Porphyry did nothing worth mentioning in
this way. For Jerome on the place says: Duas posteriores bestias—
in uno Macedonum regno ponit. And as to the ten kings: Decem

467

little weight with reasonable men now ; if this pas-
sage, thus applicable to events before the age of
Porphyry, appears to be applicable also to events
which succeeded the dissolution of the Roman em-
pire. I mention this, not at all as intending to in-
sinuate, that the division of this empire into ten
parts, for it was plainly divided into about that num-
ber, were, alone, and by itself, of any moment in
verifying the prophetic history; but only as an ex-
ample of the thing I am speaking of. And thus,
upon the whole, the matter of inquiry evidently
must be, as above put, Whether the prophecies are
applicable to Christ, and to the present state of the
world and of the church; applicable in such a degree,
as to imply foresight : not whether they are capable
of any other application ; though I know no pretence
for saying, the general turn of them is capable of
any other.

These observations are, I think, just, and the
evidence referred to in them, real; though there
may be people who will not accept of such imperfect
information from Scripture. Some too have not
integrity and regard enough to truth, to attend to
evidence, which keeps the mind in doubt, perhaps
perplexity, and which is much of a different sort
from what they expected. And it plainly requires
a degree of modesty and fairness, beyond what every
one has, for a man to say, not to the world, but to
himself, that there is a real appearance of somewhat

 

reges enumerat, qui, fuerunt seevissimi; ipsosque reges mon unius
ponit regni, verbi gratia, Macedonie, Syrie, Asie, et Egypti; sed
de diversis regnis unum efficit regum ordinem. And in this way of
interpretation, any thing may be made of any thing,

 
 

468

of great weight in this matter, though he 1s not
able thoroughly to satisfy himself about it; but it
shall have its influence upon him, in proportion to
its appearing reality and weight. It is much more
easy, and more falls in with the negligence, presump-
tion, and wilfulness of the generality, to determine
at once, with a decisive air, there is nothing in it.
The prejudices arising from that absolute contempt
and scorn, with which this evidence is treated in the
world, I do not mention. For what indeed can be
said to persons, who are weak enough in their un-
derstandings to think this any presumption against
it; or, if they do not, are yet weak enough in their
temper to be influenced by such prejudices, upon
such a subject. :

I shall now, secondly, Endeavour to give some
account of the general argument for the truth of
Christianity, consisting both of the direct and cir-
cumstantial evidence, considered as making up one
argument. Indeed, to state and examine this argu-
ment fully, would be a work much beyond the com-
pass of this whole treatise; nor is so much as a pro-
per abridgment of it to be expected here. Yet the
present subject requires to have some brief account
of it given. For it is the kind of evidence upon
which most questions of difficulty, in common prac-
tice, are determined; evidence arising from various
coincidences, which support and confirm each other,
and in this manner prove, with more or less certainty,
the point under consideration. And I choose to do it
also, first, Because it seems to be of the greatest im-
portance, and not duly attended to by every one, that
the proof of revelation is, not some direct and express

469

things only, but a great variety of circumstantial
things also; and that though each of these direct and
circumstantial things is indeed to be considered sepa-
rately, yet they are afterwards to be joined together;
for that the proper force of the evidence consists in the
result of those several things, considered in their re-
spects to each other, and united into one view; and,
in the next place, Because it seems to me, that the
matters of facts here set down, which are acknow-
ledged by unbelievers, must be acknowledged by them
also to contain together a degree of evidence of great
weight, if they could be brought to lay these several
things before themselves distinctly, and then with
attention consider them together; instead of that
cursory thought of them, to which we are familiar-
ized. For being familiarized to the cursory thought
of things, as really hinders the weight of them from
being seen, as from having its due influence upon
practice.

The thing asserted, and the truth of which is to
be inquired into, is this: that over and above our
reason and affections, which God has given us for
the information of our judgment and the conduct of
our lives, he has also, by external revelation, given
us an account of himself and his moral government
over the world, implying a future state of rewards
and punishments; that is, hath revealed the system
of natural religion; for natural religion may be ex-
ternally* revealed by God, as the ignorant may be
taught it by mankind, their fellow-creatures—that
God, I say, has given us the evidence of revelation,
as well as the evidence of reason, to ascertain this

* Page 338, &ec.

 
 

 

¥ un

470

moral system; together with an account of a parti-
cular dispensation of Providence, which reason could
no way have discovered, and a particular institution
of religion founded on it, for the recovery of man-
kind out of their present wretched condition, and
raising them to the perfection and final happiness of
their nature.

This revelation, whether real or supposed, may be
considered as wholly historical. For prophecy is
nothing but the history of events before they come
to pass: doctrines also are matters of fact: and pre-
cepts come under the same notion. And the general
design of Scripture, which contains in it this reve-
lation, thus considered as historical, may be said to
be, to give us an account of the world, in this one
single view, as God’s world; by which it appears es-
sentially distinguished from all other books, so far as
I have found, except such as are copied from it. It
begins with an account of God’s creation of the
world, in order to ascertain and distinguish from all
others, who is the object of our worship, by what he
has done; in order to ascertain who he is, concerning
whose providence, commands, promises, and threat-
enings, this sacred book all along treats; the Maker
and Proprietor of the world, he whose creatures we
are, the God of nature: in order likewise to distin-
guish him from the idols of the nations, which are
either imaginary beings, that is, no beings at all;
or else part of that creation, the historical relation of
which is here given. And St. John, not improbably
with an eye to this Mosaic account of the creation,
begins his gospel with an account of our Saviour’s
pre-existence, and that ¢all things were made by

471
him, and without him was not any thing made that
was made ;” agreeably to the doctrine of St. Paul,
that « God created all things by Jesus Christ.”
This being premised, the Scripture, taken together,
seems to profess to contain a kind of an abridgment
of the history of the world, in the view just now
mentioned ; that is, a general account of the condi-
tion of religion and its professors, during the conti-
nuance of that apostacy from God, and state of wick-
edness, which it every where supposes the world to
lie in. And this account of the state of religion
carries with it some brief account of the political state
of things, as religion is affected by it. Revelation,
indeed, considers the common affairs of this world,
and what is going on in it, as a mere scene of dis-
traction, and cannot be supposed to concern itself
with foretelling at what time Rome, or Babylon, or
Greece, or any particular place, should be the most
conspicuous seat of that tyranny and dissoluteness,
which all places equally aspire to be; cannot, I say,
be supposed to give any account of this wild scene
for its own sake. But it seems to contain some very
general account of the chief governments of the world,
as the general state of religion has been, is, or shall
be, affected by them, from the first transgression, and
during the whole interval of the world’s continuing
in its present state, to a certain future period, spoken
of both in the Old and New Testament, very dis-
tinetly, and in great variety of expression: ¢ The
times of the restitution of all things:” when « the
mystery of God shall be finished, as he hath declared
to his servants the prophets;” when ¢ the God of
heaven shall set up a kingdom which shall never be

 
472

destroyed; and the kingdom shall not be left to other
people,” as it is represented to be during this apos
tacy, but «judgment shall be given to the saints,”*
and < they shall reign” <¢and the kingdom and
dominion, and the greatness of the kingdom under
the whole heaven, shall be given to the people of the
saints of the Most High.”1

Upon this general view of the Scripture, I would
remark, how great a length of time the whole rela-
tion takes up, near six thousand years of which are
past: and how great a variety of things it treats of’;
the natural and moral system or history of the world,
including the time when it was formed, all contained
in the very first book, and evidently written in a rude
and unlearned age; and in subsequent books, the
various common and prophetic history, and the par-
ticular dispensation of Christianity. Now, all this
together gives the largest scope for criticism; and
for confutation of what is capable of being confuted,
either from reason, or from common history, or from
any inconsistence in its several parts. And itis a
thing which deserves, I think, to be mentioned, that

whereas some imagine, the supposed doubtfulness of

the evidence for revelation implies a positive argu-
ment that it is not true; it appears, on the contrary, to
imply a positive argument that it is true. For, could
any common relation, of such antiquity, extent, and
variety, (for in these things the stress of what I am
now observing lies) be proposed to the examination
of the world ; that it could not, in any age of know-
ledge and liberty, be confuted, or shown to have no-

 

® Dan. vii. 22. + Rev. 1 Dan. vii.

473

thing in it, to the satisfaction of reasonable men ;
this would be thought a strong presumptive proof of
its truth. And indeed, it must be a proof of it, just
in proportion to the probability, that if it were false,
it might be shown to be so; and this, I think, is
scarce pretended to be shown, but upon principles
and in ways of arguing which have been clearly ob-
viated.* Nor does it at all appear, that any set of
men who believe natural religion, are of the opinion,
that Christianity has been thus confuted. But to
proceed :

Together with the moral system of the world, the
Old Testament contains a chronological account of
the beginning of it, and from thence, an unbroken
genealogy of mankind for many ages before common
history begins; and carried on as much farther, as to
make up a continued thread of history, of the length
of between three and four thousand years. It con-
tains an account of God’s making a covenant with a
particular nation, that they should be his people,
and he would be their God, in a peculiar sense ;
of his often interposing miraculously in their affairs ;
giving them the promise, and, long after, the pos-
session, of a particular country; assuring them of the
greatest national prosperity in it, if they would wor-
ship him, in opposition to the idols which the rest of
the world worshipped, and obey his commands, and
threatening them with unexampled punishments, if
they disobeyed him, and fell into the general idola-
try ; insomuch, that this one nation should continue
to be the observation and the wonder of all the world.

 

* Chap. 2, 3, &c.

 
 

474

It declares particularly, that God would scatter
them among all people, from one end of the earth
unto the other;” but that «when they should return
unto the Lord their God, he would have compassion
upon them, and gather them, from all the nations
whether he had scattered them; that «Israel should
be saved in the Lord, with an everlasting salvation,
and not be ashamed or confounded, world without
end.” And as some of those promises are condi-
tional, others are as absolute as any thing can be ex-
pressed, that the time should come, when ¢the peo-
ple should be all righteous, and inherit the land for

ever;” that «though God would make a full end of

all nations whither he had scattered them, yet would
he not make a full end of them:” that ¢«he would
bring again the captivity of his people Israel, and
plant them upon their land, and they should be no

more pulled out of their land :” that ¢ the seed of

Israel should not cease from being a nation for
ever.”* It foretels, that God would raise them up
a particular person, in whom all his promises should
finally be fulfilled ; the Messiah, who should be, in
a high and eminent sense, their anointed Prince and
Saviour. This was foretold in such a manner, as
raised a general expectation of such a person in the
nation, as appears from the New Testament, and is
an acknowledged fact; an expectation of his coming
at such a particular time, before any one appeared,
claiming to be that person, and when there was no

ground for such an expectation but from the pro-

 

* Deut. xxviii. 64. Ch. xxx. 2, 3. Isa. xlv. 17. Ch. Ix. 31.
Jer. xxx. 11. Ch. xlvi. 28. Amos ix. 15. Jer. xxxi. 36.

d
phecies; which expectation, therefore, must in all
reason be presumed to be explanatory of those pro-
phecies, if there were any doubt about their mean-
ing. It seems moreover to foretel, that this person
should be rejected by that nation, to whom he had
been so long promised, and though he was so much
desired by them.* And it expressly foretels, that
he should be the Saviour of the Gentiles; and even
that the completion of the scheme contained in this
book, and then begun and in its progress, should be
somewhat so great, that, in comparison with it, the
restoration of the Jews alone would be but of small
account: ¢ It is a light thing that thou shouldst be
my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and to re-
store the preserved of Israel: I will also give thee
for a light to the Gentiles, that thou mayest be for
salvation unto the end of the earth.” And, « In
the last days, the mountain of the Lord’s house
shall be established in the top of the mountains, and
shall be exalted above the hills; and all nations shall
flow into it—for out of Zion shall go forth the law,
and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. And he
shall judge among the nations—and the Lord alone
shall be exalted in that day, and the idols he shall
utterly abolish.”+ The Scripture farther contains
an account, that at the time the Messiah was ex-
pected, a person rose up, in this nation, claiming to

 

* Isa, vill. 14,13. Ch. xix. 5: Ch. Hi. Mall 10, 11.and
Ch. iii.

+ Isa. xix. 6. Ch. 3. Ch. xi. Ch.W.7. Mal i 11.—To
which must be added, the other prophecies of the like kind,
several in the New Testament, and very many in the Old, which
describe what shall be the completion of the revealed plan of
Providence.

 
 

476

be that Messiah, to be the person whom all the pro-
phecies referred to, and in whom they should centre;
that he spent some years in a continued course of
miraculous works, and endued his immediate dis-
ciples and followers with a power of doing the same,
as a proof of the truth of that religion which he
commissioned them to publish; that, invested with
this authority and power, they made numerous con-
verts in the remotest countries, and settled and estah-
lished his religion in the world ; to the end of which,
the Scripture professes to give a prophetic account of
the state of this religion amongst mankind.

Let us now suppose a person utterly ignorant of
history, to have all this related to him, out of the
Scripture. Or, suppose such a one, having the
Scripture put into his hands, to remark these things
in it, not knowing but that the whole, even its civil
history, as well as the other parts of it, might be,
from beginning to end, an entire invention; and to
ask, What truth was in it, and whether the revela-
tion here related was real, or a fiction? And, in-
stead of a direct answer, suppose him, all at once, to
be told the following confessed facts; and then to
unite them into one view.

Let him first be told, in how great a degree the
profession and establishment of natural religion, the
belief that there is one God to be worshipped, that
virtue is his law, and that mankind shall be rewarded
and punished hereafter, as they obey and disobey it
here; in how very great a degree, I say, the profes-
sion and establishment of this moral system in the
world, is owing to the revelation, whether real or
supposed, contained in this book ; the establishment

477

of this moral system, even in those countries which
do not acknowledge the proper authority of the Scrip-
ture. Let him be told also what number of na-
tions do acknowledge its proper authority. Let him
then take in the consideration, of what importance
religion is to mankind. And upon these things, he
might, IT think, truly observe, that this supposed re-
velation obtaining and being reccived in the world,
with all the circumstances and effects of it, considered
together as one event, is the most conspicuous and
important event in the story of mankind: that a
book of this nature, and thus promulged and re-
commended to our consideration, demands, as if by
a voice from heaven, to have its claims most seriously
examined into; and that, before such examination,
to treat it with any kind of scoffing and ridicule is
an offence against natural piety. jut it is to be
remembered, that how much scever the establish-
ment of natural religion in the world is owing to the
Scripture revelation, this does not destroy the proof
of religion from reason ; any more than the proof of
Liuclid’s Elements is destroyed, by a man’s knowing
or thinking, that he should never have seen the truth
of the several propositions contained in it, nor had
those propositions come into his thoughts, but for
that mathematician.

Let such a person as we are speaking of, be, in
the next place, informed of the acknowledged anti-
quity of the first parts of this book; and that its
chronology, its account of the time when the earth,

and the several parts of it, were first peopled with

 

* Page 424.

 
 

478

human creatures, is no way contradicted, but is ol
ly confirmed, by the natural and civil history of ihe
world, collected from common historians, from t 1e
state of the earth, and from the late invention of
arts and sciences. And, as the Scripture contains
an unbroken thread of common and civil history,
from the creation to the captivity, for between three
and four thousand years: let the person we Se
speaking of be told, in the next place, that this
general history, as it is not contradicted, ut is i
firmed by profane history, as much as there Sou
be reason to expect, upon supposition of 1s tru i
so there is nothing in the whole history itself to give
any reasonable ground of suspicion of its not hes
in the general, a faithful and literally true genea >
gy of men, and series of things. I speak here on y
of the common Scripture history, or of the course of
ordinary events related in it, as distinguished foe
miracles, and from the prophetic history. Ine

the Scripture narrations of this kind, Si
events arise out of foregoing ones, as in all other
histories. There appears nothing related as om
in any age, nor conformable to the bh of Si
age; nothing in the account of a succeeding ag ,
which one would say could not be true, or was im-
probable, from the account of things in the pracas
ing one. There is nothing in the characters a
would raise a thought of their being feigned; but a

the internal marks imaginable of their being real.
It is to be added also, that mere genealogies, bare
narratives of the number of years which persons os
led by such and such names lived, do not carry t 1e
face of fiction; perhaps do carry some presumption

479

of veracity: and all unadorned narratives, which have
nothing to surprise, may be thought to carry some-
what of the like presumption too. And the domes-
tic and the political history is plainly credible. There
may be incidents in Scripture, which, taken alone in
the naked way they are told, may appear strange,
especially to persons of other manners, temper, edu-
ation; but there are also incidents of undoubted
truth, in many of most persons’ lives, which, in the
same circumstances, would appear to the full as
strange. There may be mistakes of transcribers,
there may be other real or seeming mistakes, not
casy to be particularly accounted for; but there are
certainly no more things of this kind in the Scrip-
ture, than what were to have been expected in books
of such antiquity ; and nothing, in any wise, suffi-
cient to discredit the general narrative. Now, that

a history, claiming to commence from the creation,
and extending in one continued series, through so
great a length of time, and variety of events, should
have such appearances of reality and truth in its
whole contexture, is surely a very remarkable cir-

cumstance in its favour. And as all this is appli-
cable to the common history of the New Testament,
so there is a farther credibility, and a very high one,
given to it by profane authors ; many of these writ-
ing of the same times, and confirming the truth of
customs and events, which are incidentally, as well
as more purposely mentioned in it. And this credi-
bility of the common Scripture history gives some
credibility to its miraculous history : especially as
this is interwoven with the common, so as that they

imply each other, and both together make up one
relation.

 
 

 

480

Let it then be more particularly observed to this
person, that it is an acknowledged matter of fact,
which is indeed implied in the foregoing observation,
that there was such a nation as the Jews, of the
greatest antiquity, whose government and Jen
polity was founded on the law, here related fe he
given them by Moses as from heaven : that Bur
religion, though with rites additional, yet sali,
contrary to it, was their established religion, w eh
cannot be said of the Gentile world ; and that thelr
very being, as a nation, depended upon their ac-
knowledgment of one God, the God of fhe uni-
verse. Lor suppose, in their pho in Byler,
they had gone over to the religion of their confer.
ors, there would have remained no bond of Den,
to keep them a distinct people. And whilst they
were under their own kings in their own country, a
total apostacy from God would have been the fi
lution of their whole government. They, in such
a sense, nationally acknowledged and worshipped the
Maker of heaven and earth, when the rest of the
world were sunk in idolatry, as rendered them, in
fact, the peculiar people of God. And this, so re-
markable an establishment and preservation of natu-

ral religion amongst them, seems to add some pect
liar eredibility to the historical evidence for the mi-
racles of Moses and the prophets; because these
miracles are a full sat’sfactory account of this event,
which plainly wants to be accounted for, and cannot
wise. :

oe this person, supposed wholly ignorant of 49

tory, be acquainted farther, that one claiming to be

the Messiah, of Jewish extraction, rose up at the

481

time when this nation, from the prophecies above-
mentioned, expected the Messiah: that he was re-
jected, as it seemed to have been foretold he should,
by the body of the people, under the direction of
their rulers: that in the course of a very few years
he was believed on, and acknowledged as the pro-
mised Messiah, by great numbers among the Gen-
tiles, agreeable to the prophecies of Scripture, yet
not upon the evidence of prophecy, but of miracles, *
of which miracles we also have strong historical evi-
dence; (by which I mean here no more than must
be acknowledged by unbelievers; for let pious frauds
and follies be admitted to weaken, it is absurd to say
they destroy, our evidence of miracles wrought in
proof of Christianity ;+) that this religion approv-
ing itself to the reason of mankind, and carrying its
own evidence with it, so far as reason is a judge of
its system, and being no way contrary to reason in
those parts of it which require to be believed upon
the mere authority of its Author; that this religion,
I say, gradually spread and supported itself, for some
hundred years, not only without any assistance from
temporal power, but under constant discouragements,
and often the bitterest persecutions from it, and then
became the religion of the world: that in the mean
time, the Jewish nation and government were de-
stroyed in a very remarkable manaer, and the peo-
ple carried away captive and dispersed through the
most distant countries; in which state of dispersion
they have remained fifteen hundred years: and that
they remain a numerous people, united amongst

 

* Page 450, &c. + Page 459, &ec.

17

 
 

482

themselves, and distinguished from the rest of the
world, as they were in the days of Moses, by the
profession of his law; and every where looked upon
in a manner, which one scarce knows how distinctly
to express, but in the words of the prophetic account
of it, given so many ages before it came to pass:
« Thou shalt become an astonishment, a proverb
and a by-word, among all nations whither the Lord
shall lead thee.”

The appearance of a standing miracle, in the
Jews remaining a distinct people in their disper-
sion, and the confirmation which this event appears
to give to the truth of revelation, may be thought
to be answered by their religion forbidding them
intermarriages with those of any other, and pre-
scribing them a great many peculiarities in their
food, by which they are debarred from the means of
incorporating with the people in whose countries
they live. This is not, 1 think, a satisfactory ac-
count of that which it pretends to account for.
But what does it pretend to account for? The
correspondence between this event and the prophe-
cies; or the coincidence of both, with a long dis-
pensation of Providence of a peculiar nature,
towards that people formerly ? No. It is only the
event itself which is offered to be thus accounted
for; which single event taken alone, abstracted from
all such correspondence and coincidence, perhaps
would not have appeared miraculous; but that cor-
respondence and coincidence may be so, though the
event itself be supposed not. Thus, the concur-

 

# Deut. xxviii. 37.

483

rence of our Saviour being born at Bethlehem
with a long foregoing series of prophecy, and otter
coincidences, is doubtless miraculous—the series of
prophecy, and other coincidences, and the event be-
ing admitted : though the event itself, his birth at
that place, appears to have been brought about in a
natural way; of which, however, no one can be
certain.

And as several of these events seem, in some
degree expressly, to have verified the prophetic his-
tory already ; so likewise, they may be considered
farther, as having a peculiar aspect towards the full
completion of it; as affording some presumption
that the whole of it shall one time or other be ful-
filled. Thus, that the Jews have been so wonder-
fully preserved in their long and wide dispersion;
which is indeed the direct fulfilling of some pro-
phecies, but is now mentioned only as looking for-
ward to somewhat yet to come; that natural riglon
come forth from Judea, and spread in the degree
it has done over the world, before lost in alatr ;
which, together with some other things, have on
tinguished that very place, in like manner as the
people of it are distinguished: that this great
change of religion over the earth was brought about
under the profession and acknowledgment, that Je-
sus was the promised Messiah: things of this kind
naturally turn the thoughts of serious men towards
the full completion of the prophetic history, con-
cerning the final restoration of that people; con-
cerning the establishment of the everlasting king-
dom among them, the kingdom of the Messiah;
and the future state of the world, under this *

X2

 
i
|
|
{a
|
|
Ht

 

484

cred government. Such circumstances and events
compared with these prophecies, though no comple-
tions of them, yet would not, I think, be spoken
of as nothing in the argument, by a person upon
his first being informed of them. They fall in
with the prophetic history of things still future,
give it some additional credibility, have the appear-
ance of being somewhat in order to the full comple-
tion of it.

Indeed, it requires a good degree of knowledge,
and great calmness and consideration, to be able to
judge thoroughly of the evidence for the truth of
Christianity, from that part of the prophetic his-
tory which relates to the situation of the kingdoms
of the world, and to the state of the church, from
the establishment of Christianity to the present
time. But it appears, from a general view of it, to
be very material. And those persons who have
thoroughly examined it, and some of them were
men of the coolest tempers, greatest capacities, and
least liable to imputations of prejudice, insist upon
it as determinately conclusive.

Suppose now a person quite ignorant of history,
first to recollect the passages above-mentioned out
of Scripture without knowing but what the whole
was a late fiction, then to be informed of the corre-
spondent facts now mentioned, and to unite them
all into one view: that the profession and establish-
ment of natural religion in the world, is greatly
owing, in different ways, to this book, and the sup-

osed revelation which it contains; that it is ac-
knowledged to be of the earliest antiquity ; that its
chronology and common history are entirely credi-

485

ble; that this ancient nation, the Jews, of whom it
chiefly treats, appear to have been, in fact, the peo-
ple of God, in a distinguished sense; that, as
there was a national expectation amongst them
raised from the prophecies, of a Messiah to Re
at such a time, so one at this time appeared claim-
ing to be that Messiah; that he was rejected by
this nation, but received by the Gentiles, not upon
the evidence of prophecy, but of miracles; that the
religion he taught supported itself under the great-
est difficulties, gained ground, and at length became
the religion of the world; that in the mean time
the Jewish polity was utterly destroyed, and the re
tion dispersed over the face of the earth; that, not-
withstanding this, they have remained a distinct and
numerous people for so many centuries, even to this
day ; which not only appears to be the express com-
pletion of several prophecies concerning them, but
also renders it, as one may speak, a visible and easy
possibility, that the promises made to them as a na-
tion, may yet be fulfilled. And to these acknow-
ledged truths, let the person we have been suppos-
ing add, as I think he ought, whether every one
will allow it or not, the obvious appearances which
there are of the state of the world, in other respects
besides what relates to the Jews, and of the Chris-
tian church, having so long answered, and still an-
swering to the prophetic history. Suppose, I say
these facts set over against the things Betorarhore
tioned out of the Scripture, and seriously compared
with them; the joint view of both together, must
I think, appear of very great weight to a coniide,
rate reasonable person; of much greater, indeed,

 
 

486

upon having them first laid before him, than is
easy for us, who are so familiarized to them, to con-
ceive, without some particular attention for that

purpose.

All these things, and the several particulars con-
tained under them, require to be distinctly and most
thoroughly examined into; that the weight of each
may be judged of, upon such examination, and such
conclusion drawn as results from their united force.
But this has not been attempted here. I have gone
no farther than to show, that the general imperfect
view of them now given, the confessed historical
evidence for miracles, and the many obvious appear-
ing completions of prophecy, together with the col-
lateral things* here mentioned, and there are seve-
ral others of the like sort; that all this together,
which, being fact, must be acknowledged by unbe-
lievers, amounts to real evidence of somewhat more
than human in this matter; evidence much more
important than careless men, who have been accus-
tomed only to transient and partial views of it, can
imagine ; and indeed abundantly sufficient to act
upon. And these things, I apprehend, must be
acknowledged by unbelievers. For, though they
may say, that the historical evidence of miracles,
wrought in attestation of Christianity, 1s not suffi-
cient to convince them that such miracles were
really wrought, they cannot deny that there is such
historical evidence, it being a known matter of fact

 

* All the particular things mentioned in this Chapter, not re-
ducible to the head of certain miracles, or determinate comple-
tions of prophecy. See pages 445, 446.

487

that there is. They may say, the conformity be-
tween the prophecies and events is by accident ; but
there are many instances in which such esniormit
itself cannot be denied. They may say, with
gard to such kind of collateral things as those
above-mentioned, that any odd accidental events
without meaning, will have a meaning found
them by fanciful people; and that such as are fan-
ciful in any one certain way, will make out a thou-
sand coincidences, which seem to favour their pecu-
liar follies. Men, I say, may talk thus; but no
one who is serious; can possibly think these things
to be nothing, if he considers the importance oe
collateral things, and even of lesser circumstances
in the evidence of probability, as distinguished "
nature, from the evidence of deonsieation, : In
many cases, indeed, it seems to require the truest
judgment, to determine with exactness the weight
of circumstantial evidence ; but it is very often alto-
gether as convincing as that which is the most ex-
press and direct.
: This general view of the evidence for Christian-
ity, considered as making one argument, may also
serve to recommend to serious persons, to set down
every thing which they think may be of any real
weight at all in proof of it, and particularly the ma-
ny seeming completions of prophecy; and they will
find, that, judging by the natural rules by which
we judge of probable evidence in common matters,
they amount to a much higher degree of proof, up-
on such a joint review, than could be supposed up-
on considering them separately, at different times
how strong soever the proof might before appear ro

 
 

488

them, upon such separate views of it. For proba-
ble proofs, by being added, not only increase the
evidence, but multiply it. Nor should I dissuade
any one from setting down what he thought made
for the contrary side. But then it is to be remem-
bered, not in order to influence his judgment, but
his practice, that a mistake on one side may be, in
its consequences, much more dangerous than a mis-
take on the other. And what course is most safe,
and what most dangerous, is a consideration thought
very material, when we deliberate, not concerning
events, but concerning conduct in our temporal af-
fairs. To be influenced by this consideration in
our jugdment, to believe or disbelieve upon it, is
indeed as much prejudice as any thing whatever.
And, like other prejudices, it operates contrary ways
in different men. For some are inclined to believe
what they hope; and others what they fear. And
it is manifest unreasonableness, to apply to men’s
passions, in order to gain their assent. But in de-
liberations concerning conduct, there is nothing
which reason more requires to be taken into the ac-
count, than the importance of it. For, suppose it
doubtful what would be the consequence of acting
in this, or in a contrary manner; still, that taking
one side could be attended with little or no bad con-
sequences, and taking the other might be attended
with the greatest, must appear to unprejudiced rea-
son, of the highest moment towards determining
how we are to act. But the truth of our religion,
like the truth of common matters, is to be judged
of by all the evidence taken together. And unless
the whole series of things which may be alleged in

489

this argument, and every particular thing in it,
can reasonably be supposed to have been by acci-
dent, (for here the stress of the argument for Chris-
tianity lies,) then is the truth of it proved; in like
manner, as if in any common case, numerous events
acknowledged, were to be alleged in proof of any
other event disputed; the truth of the disputed event
would be proved, not only if any one of the ac-
knowledged ones did of itself clearly imply it, but
though no one of them singly did so, if the whole
of the acknowledged events taken together, could
not in reason be supposed to have happened, unless
the disputed one were true.

It is obvious, how much advantage the nature of
this evidence gives to those persons who attack
Christianity, especially in conversation. For it is
easy to show, in a short and lively manner, that
such and such things are liable to objection, that this
and another’ thing is of little weight in itself; but
impossible to show, in like manner, the united force
of the whole argument in one view.

However, lastly, as it has been made appear,
that there is no presumption against a revelation as
miraculous ; that the general scheme of Christianity,
and the principal parts of it, are conformable to the
experienced constitution of things, and the whole
perfectly credible; so the account now given of the
positive evidence for it, shows that this evidence is
such as, from the nature of it, cannot be destroyed,

though it should be lessened.

 
 

CHAP. VIIL

Of the Objections which may be made against argu-
ing from the Analogy of Nature to Religion.

IF every one would consider, with such attention
as they are bound, even in point of morality, to
consider, what they judge and give characters of,
the occasion of this chapter would be, in some good
measure at least, superseded. But since this is not
to be expected; for some, we find, do not concern
themselves to understand even what they write
against : smee this treatise, in common with most
others, lies open to objections, which may appear
very material to thoughtful men at first sight; and,
besides, that seems peculiarly liable to the objec-
tions of such as can judge without thinking, and of
such as can censure without judging; it may not be
amiss to set down the chief of these objections which
occur to me, and consider them to their hands.
And they are such as these: —

¢« That it is a poor thing to solve difficulties in
revelation, by saying that there are the same in na-
tural religion; when what is wanting is to clear both
of them, of these their common, as well as other
their respective difficulties: but that it is a strange
way indeed of convincing men of the obligations of
religion, to show them, that they have as little rea-
son for their worldly pursuits; and a strange way of
vindicating the justice and goodness of the Author
of nature, and of removing the objections against

491

both, to which the system of religion lies open, to
show, that the like objections lie against natural
providence; a way of answering objections against
religion, without so much as pretending to make out,
that the system of it, or the particular things in it
objected against, are reasonable—especially, per-
haps, some may be inattentive enough to add, must
this be thought strange, when it is confessed, that
analogy is no ahswer to such objections ; that when
this sort of reasoning is carried to the utmost length
it can be imagined capable of, it will yet leave the
mind in a very uhsatisfied state; and that it must
be unaccountable ignorance of mankind, to imagine
they will be prevailed with to forego their present
interests and pleasures, from regard to religion, upon
doubtful evidence.”

Now, as plausible as this way of talking may ap-
pear, that appearance will be found in a great mea-
sure owing to half views, which show but part of
an object, yet show that indistinctly ; and to unde-
terminate language. By these means weak men
are often deceived by others, and ludicrous men by
themselves. And even those who are serious and
considerate, cannot always readily disentangle, and
at once clearly see through the perplexities in which
subjects themselves are involved; and which are
heightened by the deficiencies and the abuse of
words. To this latter sort of persons, the following
reply to each part of this objection severally, may
be of some assistance; as it may also tend a little
to stop and silence others.

First, The thing wanted, that is, what men re-
quire, is te have all difficulties cleared. And this

 
 

492

is, or at least, for any thing we know to the con-

trary, it may be, the same, as requiring to compre-

hend the Divine nature, and the whole plan of Pro-

vidence from everlasting to everlasting. But it hath

always been allowed to argue, from what is acknow-

ledged to what is disputed. And it is in no other
sense a poor thing, to argue from natural religion
to revealed, in the manner found fault with, than it
is to argue in numberless other ways of probable de-
duction and inference, in matters of conduct, which
we are continually reduced to the necessity of doing.
Indeed the epithet poor may be applied, I fear, as
properly to great part, or the whole, of human life,
as it is to the things mentioned in the objection.
Is it not a poor thing for a physician to have so little
knowledge in the cure of diseases, as even the most
eminent have? to act upon conjecture and guess,
where the life of man is concerned? Undoubtedly
it is: but not in comparison of having no skill at all
in that useful art, and being obliged to act wholly
in the dark.

Further: since it is as unreasonable, as it is com-
mon, to urge objections against revelation, which
are of equal weight against natural religion; and
those who do this, if they are not confuted them-
selves, deal unfairly with others, in making it seem
that they are arguing only against revelation, or
particular doctrines of it, when in reality they are

arguing against moral Providence; it is a thing of

consequence to show, that such objections are as
much levelled against natural religion, as against
revealed. And objections, which are equally appli-

cable to both, are, properly speaking, answered,

493

a ER eg
. And without taking
in the consideration, how distinctly this is admitted
it is plainly very material to observe, that as de
things objected against in natural religion, are of
the same kind with what is certain Piatec of expe-
rience in the course of providence, and in the infor-
mation which God affords us concerning our temporal
interest under his government; so the objections
against the system of Christianity and the evidence
of it, are of the very same kind with those which
are made against thre system and evidence of natural
religion. However, the reader upon review may
see, that most of the analogies insisted upon even
in the latter part of this treatise, do not = ioorot]
require to have more taken for granted than is in id
former; that there is an Author of nature. or na-
tural Governor of the world: and Cluisthrsity is dd
Cy Jot from its analogy to natural religion, but

efly, from its analogy to the experienced consti-
tution of nature.

Secondly, Religion is a practical thing, and con-
sists in such a determinate course of life: as beine
what, there is reason to think, is corvarded by
the Author of nature, and will, upon the whole, be
our happiness under his government. Now, if oh
can be convinced, that they have the like reason to
believe this, as to believe, that taking care of their
temporal affairs will be to their advantage: such
conviction cannot but be an argument 0. om for
the practice of religion. And if there be really any
reason for believing one of these, and endeavouring
to preserve life, and secure ourselves the ni

 
 

 

 

494

and conveniences of it; then there is reason also fr
believing the other, and endeavouring to secure t ie
interest it proposes to us. And if te jitetss
which religion proposes to us, be infinitely os -
er than our whole temporal interest, then there
must be proportionably greater reason for Salsetont
ing to secure one than the other: since, by t e Sap
position, the probability of our securing one, is op
to the probability of our securing the har Ss
seems plainly unanswerable; and has a ten Saye
influence fair minds, who consider what our con WH
tion really is, or upon what evidence we are natur y
appointed to act; and who are disposed to 5
in the terms upon which we live, and atten to i
follow that practical instruction, whatever it be,
‘hich is afforded us.
eo chief and proper force of the argument
referred to in the objection, lies in another plas
For it is said, that the proof of religion is involve
in such inextricable difficulties, as to render it doubt-
ful ; and that it cannot be supposed, that, if it vets
true, it would be left upon doubtful evidence. : oe,
then, over and above the force of cach He of
difficulty or objection, these difficulties and 4 jec-
tions taken together, are turned into a positive ar-
gument against the truth of religion ; which argu-
ment would stand thus.—If religion were true, it
would not be left doubtful, and open to atin to
the degree in which it is: therefore, that 3 t os
left, not only renders the evidence of it weak, Gi
lessens its force in proportion to the weight of such
obsections ; but also shows it to be false, or is ? ge-
neral presumption of its being so. Now the obser

495

vation, that from the natural constitution and course
of things, we must in our temporal concerns, almost
continually, and in matters of great consequence,
act upon evidence of a like kind and degree to the
evidence of religion, is an answer to this argument;
because it shows, that it is according to the conduct
and character of the Author of nature, to appoint
we should act upon evidence like to that, which this
argument presumes he cannot be supposed to appoint
we should act upon: it is an instance, a general one
made up of numerous particular ones, of somewhat
in his dealing with us, similar to what is said to be
incredible. And as the force of this answer lies
merely in the parallel which there is between the
evidence for religion and for our temporal conduct,
the answer is equally just and conclusive ; whether
the parallel be made out, by showing the evidence
of the former to be higher, or the evidence of the
latter to be lower.

Thirdly, The design of this treatise is not to
vindicate the character of God, but to show the ob-
ligations of men: it is not to Justify his providence,
but to show what belongs to us to do. These are
two subjects, and ought not to be confounded. And
though they may at length run up into each other,
yet observations may immediately tend to make out
the latter, which do not appear, by any immediate
connexion, to the purpose of the former; which is
less our concern than many seem to think. For,
1st, It is not necessary we should Justify the dispen-
sations of Providence against objections, any farther
than to show, that the things objected against may,
for aught we know, be consistent with justice and

 
 

496

goodness. Suppose, then, that there are things in
the system of this world, and plan of Providence
relating to it, which taken alone would be unjust;
yet it has been shown unanswerably, that if we could
take in the reference which these things may have,
to other things present, past and to come; to the
whole scheme, which the things objected against are
parts of; these very things might, for aught we
know, be found to be, not only consistent with jus-
tice, but instances of it. Indeed it has been shown,
by the analogy of what we see, not only possible
that this may be the case, but credible that it is.
And thus objections, drawn from such things, are
answered, and Providence is vindicated, as far as re-
ligion makes its vindication necessary. Hence it
appears, 2dly, That objections against the divine
justice and goodness are not endeavoured to be re-
moved, by showing that the like objections, allowed
to be really conclusive, lie against natural providence;
but those objections being supposed, and shown not
to be conclusive, the things objected against, con-
sidered as matters of fact, are farther shown to be
credible, from their conformity to the constitution of
nature; for instance, that God will reward and pun-
ish men for their actions hereafter, from the obser-
vation, that he does reward and punish them for
their actions here. And this, I apprehend, 1s of
weight. And I add, 3dly, It would be of weight,
even though those objections were not answered.
For, there being the proof of religion above set
down, and religion implying several facts; for in-
stance again, the fact last mentioned, that God will
reward and punish men for their actions hereafter;

497

the observation that his present method of govern-
ment is by rewards and punishments, shows that fu-
ture fact not to be incredible: whatever objections
men may think they have against it, as unjust or
unmerciful, according to their notions of justice and
mercy ; or as improbable from their belief of neces-
sity. I say, as improbable, for it is evident no ob-
jection against it, as unjust, can be urged from ne-
cessity ; since this notion as much destroys injustice
as it does justice. Then, 4¢4ly, Though dhrti
against the reasonableness of the system of religion
cannot indeed be answered without Gh ECP A rte
consideration of its reasonableness, yet ice tions
against the credibility or truth of it, may : Because
the system of it is reducible into what is properly
matter of fact; and the truth, the probable truth
of facts, may be shown without consideration of thelr
reasonableness. Nor is it necessary, though in some
cases and respects, it is highly useful and proper,
yet it 1s not necessary, to give a proof of the rea-
sonableness of every precept enjoined us, and of
every particular dispensation of Providence which
comes into the system of religion. Indeed, the
more thoroughly a person of a right disposition is
convinced of the perfection of the Divine nature
and conduct, the farther he will advance towards
that perfection of religion which St. John* speaks
of. But the general obligations of religion are ful-
ly made out, by proving the reasonableness of the
practice of it. And, that the practice of religion
1s reasonable, may be shown, though no more coli

 

* 1 John iv. 18.

 
 

 

498

—

be proved than that the system of it may be 50, for
aught we know to the contrary; and even without
entering into the distinct consideration of this. And
from hence, 5thly, It is easy to see, that though the
analogy of nature is not an immediate answer to ob-

jections against the wisdom, the justice, or goodness,
of any doctrine or precept of religion, yet it may be,
as it is, an immediate and direct answer to what is
really intended by such objections; which is to show,
that the things objected against are incredible.
Fourthly, It is mostly readily acknowledged, that
the foregoing treatise is by no means satisfactory;
very far indeed from it: but so would any natural
institution of life appear, if reduced into a system,
together with its evidence. Leaving religion out of
the case, men are divided in their opinions, whether
our pleasures overbalance our pains; and whether it
be, or be not, eligible to live in this world. And
were all such controversies settled, which perhaps,
in speculation, would be found involved in great dif-
ficulties ; and were it determined, upon the evidence
of reason, as nature has determined it to our hands,
that life is to be preserved ; yet, still, the rules which
God has been pleased to afford us, for escaping the
miseries of it, and obtaining its satisfactions, the
rules, for instance, of preserving health, and reco-
vering it when lost, are not only fallible and preca-
rious, but very far from being exact. Nor are we
informed by nature, in future contingencies and ac-
cidents, so as to render it at all certain, what is the
best method of managing our affairs. What will be
the success of our temporal pursuits, in the common
sense of the word success, is highly doubtful. And

499

what will be the success of them, in the proper sense
of the word; that is, what happiness or enjoyment
we shall obtain by them, is doubtful in a much higher
degree. Indeed, the unsatisfactory nature of the
evidence, with which we are obliged to take up, in
the daily course of life, is scarce to be expressed.
Yet men do not throw away life, or disregard the in-
terest of it, upon account of this doubtfulness. The
evidence of religion then being admitted real, those
who object against it, as not satisfactory, that is, as
not being what they wish it, plainly forget the very
condition of our being: for satisfaction, in this sense,
does not belong to such a creature as man. And,
which is more material, they forget also the very na-
ture of religion. For, religion presupposes, in all
those who will embrace it, a certain degree of in-
tegrity and honesty; which it was intended to try
whether men have or not, and to exercise, in such
as have it, in order to its improvement. Religion
presupposes this as much, and in the same sense, as
speaking to a man presupposes he understands the
language in which you speak ; or as warning a man
of any danger, presupposes that he hath such a re-
gard to himself as that he will endeavour to avoid
it. And therefore, the question is not at all, Whe-
ther the evidence of religion be satisfactory : but,
Whether it be, in reason, sufficient to prove and
discipline that virtue which it presupposes? Now
the evidence of it is fully sufficient for all those pur-
poses of probation; how far soever it is from being
satisfactory, as to the purposes of curiosity, or any
other: and indeed it answers the purposes of the
former in several respects, which it would not do, if

 
 

500

it were as overbearing as is required. One might
add farther, that whether the motives, or the evi-
dence of any course of action, ‘be Sif
meaning here by that word, what satisfies a man, t 2
such a course of action will in event be for his good ;
this need never be, and I think, strictly speaking,
never is, the practical question in common Dt
But the practical question, in all cases, 1s, Whet =
the evidence for a course of action be such, as ta k-
ing in all circumstances, makes the Cnlry wilin os
which is the guide and judge of conduct, determine
that course of action to be prudent? Indeed, satis-
faction that it will be for our interest or happiness,
abundantly determines an action to be prudent : but
evidence, almost infinitely lower than this, dotor-
mines actions to be so too, even in the conduct of
: day. :
Fifi, As to the objection concerning the influ-
ence which this argument, or any part of it, may o
may not be expected to have upon men, 1 ore,
as above, that religion being intended for a trial anc
exercise of the morality of every person’s Aprastor,
who is a subject of it; and there being, as A have
shown, such evidence for it, as is sufficient in i
son, to influence men to embrace it; to object, fs
it is not to be imagined mankind will be a
by such evidence, is nothing to the Pens 0 . ie
foregoing treatise. For the purpose 0 I is 8%
inquire, What sort of creatures mankind : el : :
What the light and knowledge, which is aifrod
them, requires they should be? to show how, in rea

 

#* See Dissertation II.

501

son, they ought to behave; not how, in fact, they
will behave. This depends upon themselves, and is
their own concern; the personal concern of each man
in particular. And how little regard the generality
have to it, experience, indeed, does too fully show.
But religion, considered as a probation, has had its
ends upon all persons, to whom it has been proposed,
with evidence sufficient in reason to influence their
practice ; for by this means they have been put into
a state of probation, let them behave as they will in
it. And thus, not only revelation, but reason also,
teaches us, that by the evidence of religion being
laid before men, the designs of providence are carry-
ing on, not only with regard to those who will, but
likewise with regard to those who will not, be
influenced by it. However, lastly, the objection
here referred to, allows the things insisted upon in
this treatise to be of some weight ; and if so, it may
be heped it will have some influence. And if there
be a probability that it will have any at all, there is
the same reason in kind, though not in degree, to
lay it before men, as there would be, if it were likely
to have a greater influence.

And farther, I desire it may be considered, with
respect to the whole of the foregoing objections, that
in this treatise I have argued upon the principles of
others, * not my own; and have omitted what I think
true, and of the utmost importance, because by others
thought unintelligible, or not true. Thus I have

* By arguing upon the principles of others, the reader will ob-
serve is meant, not proving any thing from those principles, but
notwithstanding them. Thus religion is proved, not from the
opinion of necessity, which is absurd, but notwithstanding, or even
though, that opinivn were admitted to be true.

 
 

502

argued upon the principles of the Puls J
i itted a thing of the ut-
do not believe; and have om A
most importance, which I do believe—the a
ness and unfitness of actions, prior to all will w Be
ever: which I apprehend as certainly to WET
the Divine conduct, as i truth 2) this
i ine the Divine judg .
hood necessarily determine oe
inci liberty, and that of m
Indeed, the principle of | >
fitness, so force themselves upon i GE Sane
i ients 11 as moderns, have fo
ralists, the ancients as we i)
i i And probably it may ap
their language upon it. 9
ear in Ly though I have endeavoured to ool
Te and, in order to avoid it, have Se J een
dlizel to express myself in a manner he wi 7
0
'h as do not observe the reason
ear strange to such as :
pe but the general argument here psoas does
nciples.
d upon, these princip
at all suppose, or procee lu :
Now, in two abstract principles of liberty ™ Be.
ral fitness being omitted, religion can hood g 9
in no other view than merely as a question # a
and in this view it is here considered. It 3 a? om
that Christianity, and the proof of it, are : ot A
torical. And even natural religion is prop :
matter of fact. For, that there is a righteous 30
vernor of the world, is so; and i go
1 y of natural religion.
tains the general system : ed
. t truths, and in particu
then, several abstrac 1 a He
inci ually taken into cons
two principles, are us tak a
i it + whereas it is here treate
in the proof of it; w JTS iehe oF ory
To explain this: tha
as a matter of fact. : i
angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones, is 5
mind,
: hat they appear so to our
abstract truth; but t ! %
is only a matter of fact. And this last must have

503

been admitted, if any thing was, by those ancient
sceptics, who would not have admitted the former ;
but pretended to doubt, Whether there were any
such thing as truth; or, Whether we could cer-
tainly depend upon our faculties of understanding for
the knowledge of it in any case. So likewise, that
there is, in the nature of things, an original stan-
dard of right and wrong in actions, independent
upon all will, but which unalterably determines the
will of God, to exercise that moral government over
the world which religion teaches, that is, finally and
upon the whole to reward and punish men respec-
tively as they act right or wrong ; this assertion con-
tains an abstract truth, as well as matter of f
But suppose, in the present state, ev
out exception, was rewarded

act.
ery man, with-
and punished, in exact

proportion as he followed or transgressed that sense
of right and wrong, which God has implanted in the
nature of every man; this would not be at all an ab-

stract truth, but only a matter of fact. And though
this fact were acknowledged by every one, yet the

very same difficulties might be raised, as a

re now,
concerning tl

1e abstract questions of liberty and mo-
ral fitness: and we should have a proof, even the
certain one of experience,

that the government of
the world was perfectly moral, without taking in the

consideration of those questions: and this proof
would remain, in what way soever they were deter-
mined. And thus, God having given mankind a
moral faculty, the object of which is actions,
which naturally approves some actions as right and
of good desert, and condemns others a

s wrong and
of ill desert; that he will, finally and upon the

and

 
 

504

whole, reward the former, and punish the latter, is
not an assertion of an abstract truth, but of what is
as mere a fact, as his doing so at present would be.
This future fact I have not indeed proved with the
force with which it might be proved, from the prin-
ciples of liberty and moral fitness; but without them,
have given a really conclusive practical proof of it,
which is greatly strengthened by the general ana-
logy of nature; a proof easily cavilled at, easily
shown not to be demonstrative, for it is not offered
as such; but impossible, I think, to be evaded or
answered. And thus the obligations of religion are
made out, exclusively of the questions concerning
liberty and moral fitness; which have been perplexed
with difficulties and abstruse reasonings, as every
thing may.

Hence, therefore, may be observed distinctly,

what is the force of this treatise. It will be, to such
as are convinced of religion, upon the proof arising
out of the two last-mentioned principles, an addi-
tional proof and a confirmation of it: to such as do
not admit those principles, an original proof of it,*
and a confirmation of that proof. Those who be-
lieve, will here find the scheme of Christianity
cleared of objections, and the evidence of it in a pecu-
liar manner strengthened: those who do not believe,
will at least be shown the absurdity of all attempts to
prove Christianity false ; the plain undoubted credi-
bility of it; and, I hope, a good deal more.

And thus, though some perhaps may seriously
think, that analogy, as here urged, has too great

 

*# Pages 302, 303, &c.

505

stress laid upon it; and ridicule, unanswerable ridi-
cule, may be applied, to show the argument from it
in a disadvantageous light; yet there can be no
question but that it is a real one. For religion,
both natural and revealed, implying in it numerous
facts; analogy, being a confirmation of all facts to
which it can be applied, as it is the only proof of
most, cannot but be admitted by every one to be a
material thing, and truly of weight on the side of
religion, both natural and revealed ; and it ought to
be particularly regarded by such as profess to follow

nature, and to be less satisfied with abstract reason-
ings.

 
 

be ha

a Aaenanien’.
SE | te Sukie io

506

CONCLUSION.

WHATEVER account may be given of the strange
inattention and disregard, in some ages oo oan
tries, to a matter of such importance as 3 gn i
would, before experience, be incredible, that t re
should be the like disregard in those, who fs a
the moral system of the world laid before t ho, i
it is by Christianity, and often inculeate wr
them; because this moral system carries in it "ga
degree of evidence for its truth, upon its ony
barely proposed to our thoughts. There is no n
of abstruse reasonings and distinctions to Smt
an unprejudiced understanding, that there is %
who made and governs the world, and will judge 3
in righteousness; though they may be Wi 0

answer abstruse difficulties, when once such ire
raised; when the very meaning of S15 a 5
which express most intelligibly the general opti
of religion, is pretended to be uncertain, ”

clear truth of the thing itself is obscured by t 4 i
tricacies of speculation. But to an es
mind, ten thousand thousand instances of dove
cannot but prove a Designer. And it is Jo

manifest, that creatures ought to live under a i"

ful sense of their Maker; and that Janes 0

charity must be his laws, to creatures whom a?

made social, and placed in society. Indeed, the

truth of revealed religion, peculiarly so bt
not self-evident, but requires external proof, in order
to its being received. Yet inattention, among us,

507

to revealed religion, will be found to imply the same
dissolute immoral temper of mind, as inattention to
natural religion; because, when both are laid before
us, in the manner they are in Christian countries of
liberty, our obligations to inquire into both, and to
embrace both upon supposition of their truth, are
obligations of the same nature. For, revelation
claims to be the voice of God ; and our obligation to
attend to his voice, is surely moral in all cases.
And as it is insisted, that its evidence is conclusive,
upon thorough consideration of it; so it offers itself
to us with manifest obvious appearances of having
something more than human in it, and therefore in
all reason requires, to have its claims most seriously
examined into. It is to be added, that though
light and knowledge, in what manner soever afforded
us, is equally from God; yet a miraculous revela-
tion has a peculiar tendency, from the first principles
of our nature, to awaken mankind, and inspire them
with reverence and awe: and this is a peculiar obli-
gation, to attend to what claims to be so with such
appearances of truth. It is therefore most certain,
that our obligations to inquire seriously into the
evidence of Christianity, and, upon supposition of
its truth, to embrace it, are of the utmost impor-
tance, and moral in the highest and most proper
sense. Let us then suppose, that the evidence of
religion in general, and of Christianity, has been
seriously inquired into, by all reasonable men among
us. Yet we find many professedly to reject both,
upon speculative principles of infidelity. And all
of them do not content themselves with a bare ne-
glect of religion, and enjoying their imaginary free-
Y?2

 
 

508

dom from its restraints. Some go much heya
this. They deride God’s moral governmen Se
the world: they renounce his PUA Sa 5
ty his justice: they ridicule and hy ah
and blaspheme the Author of it; anc W e i open
sions to manifest a scorn and contempt 0 i atl
This amounts to an active setting themselv os ine
religion; to what may be =
inciple of irreligion; which they ite pian
Dein and, whether they intend this Ba >
not, render habitual, as a good man fons % bo
trary principle. And others, who are no ge
able with all this profligateness, yet are in a
opposition to religion, as if discovered ig be Zhe
less. Now admitting, which is the suppositi >
hat these persons act upon what they
i, on of roel and otherwise they are
think principles 4 nd 2 BH a es
be argued with; 1t 1s rea idly
es Fh should imagine they clearly the Tone
evidence of it, considered in i al nl "
at all; nor do they pretend this. : They pels >
deed from having a just notion of its eAdence; ms
they would not say its evidence was BER
thought the system of it, with all He hear 2 iy
were credible, like other matters of science ! A
tory. So that their manner of treating it my >
ceed, either from such kind of dijeusions i : =
religion, as have been answered or obviate ig the
. "this ise; or else from objections
former part of this treatise; Soa
and difficulties, supposed more pecu iar to oy >
anity. Thus, they entertain prejudices mt he
whole notion of a revelation and miraculous I ‘h n >
tions, They find things in Scripture, whe

 

think probable, that many things in it must

209

incidental passages or in the gencral scheme of it,
which appear to them unreasonable. They take
for granted, that if Christianity were true, the light
of it must have been more general, and the evidence

of it more satisfactory, or rather overbearing ; that
it must and would have been, in some way, other-
wise put and left, than it is. Now, this is not
imagining they see the evidence itself to be nothing,
or inconsiderable; but quite another thing. Tt is
being fortified against the evidence, in some degree
acknowledged, by thinking they see the system of
Christianity or somewhat which appears to them ne-
eessarily connected with it, to be incredible or false:
fortified against that evidence, which might otl
wise make great impression upon them. Or, lastly,
if any of these persons are, upon the whole, in doubt
concerning the truth of Christianity; their bel
seems owing to their taking for granted, through
strange inattention, that such doubting is in a man-

ner the same thing, as being certain against it.

To these persons, and to this state of
concerning religion, the foregoing treatise is adapted.
For, all the general objections against tl

system of nature having been obviated, it is shown.
that there is not an

1er-

1aviour

opinion
1 moral

y peculiar presumption at all
against Christianity, either considered as not dis-

coverable by reason, or as unlike to what is so dis-

covered; nor any worth mentioning

g, against it as
miraculous, if any at all; none certainly, which can
render it in the least incredible. It is shown, that
upon supposition of a divine revelation, the analogy

of nature renders it beforehand highly credible, [

appear

 
 

Ee - gh A
an is

510

liable to great objections; and that we must be in-
competent judges of it, to a great degree. This
observation is, I think, unquestionably true, and of
the very utmost importance: but it is urged, as 1
hope it will be understood, with great caution of not
vilifying the faculty of reason, which is ¢ the candle
of the Lord within us;” though it can afford no
light, where it does not shine; nor judge, where it
has no principles to judge upon. The objections
here spoken of, being first answered in the view of
objections against Christianity as a matter of fact,
are in the next place considered as urged, more im-
mediately, against the wisdom, justice, and good-
ness of the Christian dispensation. And it is fully
made out, that they admit of exactly the like answer,
in every respect, to what the like objections against
the constitution of nature admit of: that, as partial
views give the appearance of wrong to things, which,
upon farther consideration and knowledge of their
relations to other things, are found just and good;
so it is perfectly credible, that the things objected
against the wisdom and goodness of the Christian
dispensation, may be rendered instances of wisdom
and goodness by their reference to other things be-
yond our view ; because Christianity is a scheme 2s
much above our comprehension, as that of nature;
and, like that, a scheme in which means are made
use of to accomplish ends, and which, as is most
credible, may be carried on by general laws. And
it ought to be attended to, that this is not an answer
taken merely or chiefly from our ignorance; but from
somewhat positive, which our observation shows us.
For, to like objections, the like answer is experi=

511

enced to be just, in numberless parallel cases. The
objections against the Christian dispensation, and the
method by which it is carried on, having been thus ob-
viated, in general and together; the chief of them are
considered distinctly, and the particular things object-
ed to are shown credible, by their perfect analogy, each
apart, to the constitution of nature. Thus, if man
be fallen from his primitive state, and to be restored
and infinite wisdom and power engages in accomplish
ing our recovery; it were to have been expected, it
is said, that this should have been effected at once,
and not by such a long series of means, and such a
various economy of persons and things; one dispen-
sation preparatory to another, this to a farther one,
and so on through an indefinite number of ages, be-
fore the end of the scheme proposed can be com-
pletely accomplished; a scheme conducted by infi-
nite wisdom, and executed by almighty power.
But now, on the contrary, our finding that every
thing in the constitution and course of nature is
thus carried on, shows such expectations concerning
revelation to be highly unreasonable; and is a sa-
tisfactory answer to them, when urged as objections
against the credibility, that the great scheme of
Providence in the redemption of the world may be
of this kind, and to be accomplished in this man-
ner. As to the particular method of our redemp-
tion, the appointment of a Mediator between God
and man; this has been shown to be most obviously
analogous to the general conduct of nature, that is,
the God of nature, in appointing others to be the
instruments of his mercy, as we experience in the
daily course of Providence. The condition of this

 
    

  
 
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
     
     
     
    
   
    
    
     
  
  
    

 

512

world, which the doctrine of our redemption by

Christ presupposes, so much falls in with natural

appearances, that heathen moralists inferred it from

those appearances; inferred, that human nature was

fallen from its original rectitude, and, in conse-

quence of this, degraded from its primitive happi-

ness. Or, however this opinion came into the
world, these appearances must have kept up the tra-
dition, and confirmed the belief of it. And as it
was the general opinion, under the light of nature,
that repentance and reformation, alone and by it-
self, was not sufficient to do away sin, and procure
a full remission of the penalties annexed to it; and
as the reason of the thing does not at all lead to any
such conclusion; so every day’s experience shows
us, that reformation is not, in any sort, sufficient
to prevent the present disadvantages and miseries,
which, in the natural course of things, God has an-
nexed to folly and extravagance. Yet there may
be ground to think, that the punishments, which,
by the general laws of divine government, are an-
nexed to vice, may be prevented; that provision
may have been even originally made, that they
should be prevented by some means or other, though
they could not by reformation alone. For we have
daily instances of such mercy, in the general con-
duct of nature; compassion provided for misery,*
medicines for diseases, friends against enemies.
There is provision made, in the original constitu-
tion of the world, that much of the natural bad
consequences of our follies, which persons them-

 

# Sermon 6th, at the Rolls.

 

913

selves alone cannot prevent, may be prevented by
the assistance of others; assistance, which nature
enables, and disposes, and appoints them to afford.
By a method of goodness analogous to this, when
the world lay in wickedness, and consequently, in
ruin, * God so loved the world, that he gave Lis
only begotten Son,” to save it; and, ¢he being
made perfect by suffering, became the author of
eternal salvation to all them that obey him.”*  Iu-
deed, neither reason nor analogy would lead us to
think, in particular, that the interposition of Christ,
in the manner in which he did interpose, would be
of that efficacy for recovery of the world, which the
Scripture teaches us it was: but neither would rea-
son nor analogy lead us to think, that other parti-
cular means would be of the efficacy, which experi-

ence shows they are, in numberless instances. And

therefore, as the case before us does not admit of

experience ; so, that neither reason nor analogy can
show, how, or in what particular way, the interpo-
sition of Christ, as revealed in Scripture, is of that
efficacy which it is there represented to be; this is
no kind or degree of presumption against its being
really of that efficacy. Farther: the objections
against Christianity, from the light of it not being
universal, nor its evidence so strong as might pos-
sibly be given us, have been answered by the ge-
neral analogy of nature. That God has made such
variety of creatures, is indeed an answer to the for-
mer; but that he dispenses his gifts in such vari-
ety, both of degrees and kinds, amongst creatures

 

* John iii. 16.

Y 3

Heb. v. 0.

Sri ApEn

Fa,

 

BA FLERE

Sr

 

    
 

514

of the same species, and even to the same indivi-
duals at different times, is a more obvious and full
answer to it. And it is so far from being the me-
thod of Providence, in other cases, to afford us
such overbearing evidence, as some require in proof
of Christianity, that, on the contrary, the evidence
upon which we are naturally appointed to act, in
common matters, throughout a very great part of
life, is doubtful in a high degree. And, admitting
the fact, that God has afforded to some, no more
than doubtful evidence of religion, the same account
may be given of it, as of difficulties and temptations
with regard to practice. But as it is not impossi-
ble,* surely, that this alleged doubtfulness may be
men’s own fault, it deserves their most serious con-
sideration, whether it be not so. However, it is
certain, that doubting implies a degree of evidence
for that of which we doubt; and that this degree of
evidence as really lays us under obligations, as de-
monstrative evidence.

The whole, then, of religion is throughout cre-
dible; mor is there, I think, any thing relating to
the revealed dispensation of things more different
from the experienced constitution and course of na-
ture, than some parts of the constitution of nature
are from other parts of it. And if so, the only

question which remains, is, What positive evidence
can be alleged for the truth of Christianity ? This
too, in general, has been considered, and the ob-

jections against it estimated. Deduct, therefore,
what is to be deducted from that evidence, upon ac-

 

r—

* Page 439, &c.

515

count of any weight which may be thought to re-
main in these objections, after what the analogy of
nature has suggested in answer to them; anderen
consider, what are the practical consequences from
all this, upon the most sceptical principles one can
argue upon, (for I am writing to persons who en-
tertain these principles;) and, upon such considera-
tion, it will be obvious, that immorality, as little
excuse as it admits of in itself, is greatly aggravat-
ed, in persons who have been made acquainted with
Christianity, whether they believe it or not; be-
cause the moral system of nature, or natural reli-
gion, which Christianity lays before us, approves
itself, almost intuitively, to a reasonable mind, upon
seeing it proposed. In the next place, with regard
to Christianity, it will be observed, that there is a
middle, between a full satisfaction of the truth of
it, and a satisfaction of the contrary. The middle
state of mind between these two, consists in a seri-
ous apprehension, that it may be true, joined with
doubt, whether it be so. And this, upon the best
judgment I am able to make, is as far towards spe-
culative infidelity, as any sceptic can at all be sup-
posed to go, who has had true Christianity, with
the proper evidence of it, laid before him, and has
in any tolerable measure considered them. For I
would not be mistaken to comprehend all who have
ever heard of it; because it seems evident, that in
many countries called Christian, neither Christian-
ity, nor its evidence, are fairly laid before men.
And in places where both are, there appear to be
some who have very little attended to either, and
who reject Christianity with a scorn proportionate to

 
their inattention; and yet are by no means without
understanding in other matters. Now, it has been
shown, that a serious apprehension that Christian-
ity may be true, lays persons under the strictest
obligations of a serious regard to it, throughout the
whole of their life; a regard, not the same exactly,
“but in many respects nearly the same, with what a
full conviction of its truth would lay them under.
Lastly, Tt will appear, that blasphemy and profane-
ness, 1 mean with regard to Christianity, are abso-
lutely without excuse. For there is no temptation
to it, but from the wantonness of vanity or mirth;
and these, considering the infinite importance of the
subject, are no such temptations as to afford any ex-
cuse for it. If this be a just account of things, and
yet men can go on to vilify or disregard Christianity,
which is to talk and act as if they had a demonstra-
tion of its falsehood; there is no reason to think
they would alter their behaviour to any purpose,
though there were a demonstration of its truth.

TWO DISSERTATIONS:

OF PERSONAL IDENTITY,
AND

OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE.

DISSERT. L
OF PERSONAL IDENTITY.

WHETHER we are to live in a future state, as it is
the most important question which can possibly be
asked, so it is the most intelligible one which can be
expressed in language. Yet strange perplexities
have been raised about the meaning of that identity,
or sameness of person, which is implied in the no-
tion of our living now and hereafter, or in any two
successive moments. And the solution of these
difficulties hath been stranger than the difficulties
themselves. For, personal identity has been ex-
plained so by some, as to render the inquiry con-
cerning a future life of no consequence at all to us,
the persons who are making it. And though few
men can be misled by such subtleties, yet it may be
proper a little to consider them.

Now, when it is asked wherein personal identity
consists, the answer should be the same as if it were
asked, wherein consists similitude or equality; that
all attempts to define, would but perplex it. Yet

 
 

518

there is no difficulty at all in ascertaining the idea.
For as, upon two triangles being compared or viewed
together, there arises to the mind the idea of simi-
litude; or upon twice two and four, the idea of
equality; so likewise, upon comparing the conscious-
ness of one’s self, or one’s own existence in any two
moments, there as immediately arises to the mind the
idea of personal identity. And as the two former
comparisons not only give us the ideas of similitude
and equality, but also show us, that two triangles
are ‘alike, and twice two and four are equal ; so the
latter comparison not only gives us the idea of per-
sonal identity, but also shows us the identity of our-
selves in those two moments; the present suppose,
and that immediately past; or the present, and that
a month, a year, or twenty years past. Or, in other
words, by reflecting upon that, which is myself now,
and that which was myself twenty years ago, I dis-
cern they are not two, but one and the same self.

But though consciousness of what is past does
thus ascertain our personal identity to ourselves, yet,
to say that it makes personal identity, or is neces-
sary to our being the same persons, is to say, that
a person has not existed a single moment, nor done
one action, but what he can remember; indeed none
but what he reflects upon. And one should really
think it self-evident, that consciousness of personal
identity presupposes, and therefore cannot consti-
tute personal identity, any more than knowledge, in
any other case, can constitute truth, which it pre-
supposes.

This wonderful mistake may possibly have arisen
from hence, that to be endued with consciousness, 1s

519

Hon from the idea of a person, or intelligent
eing. For this might be expressed inaccurately
thus—that consciousness makes personality ; and
from hence it might be concluded to make personal
identity. But though present consciousness of what
we at present do and feel, is necessary to our being
the persons we now are; yet present donee,
of past actions, or feelings, is not necessary to our
being the same persons who performed those actions
or had those feelings. :
The inquiry, what makes vegetables the same in
the common acceptation of the word, does not ap-
pear to have any relation to this of personal identity;
because the word same, when applied to them and to
person, is not only applied to different subjects, but
it is also used in different senses. For when a man
swears to the same tree, as having stood fifty years
in the same place, he means only the same as to all
the purposes of property and uses of common life
and not that the tree has been all that time the in
in the strict philosophical sense of the word. For
he does not know, whether any one particle of the
present tree be the same with any one particle of the
tree which stood in the same place fifty years ago.
And if they have net one common particle of ts
ter, they cannot be the same tree in the proper phi-
losophic sense of the word same; it being evidently
a contradiction in terms, to say they are, when no
part of their substance, and no one of their proper-
ties, is the same: no part of their substance by the
supposition ; no one of their properties, because it
is allowed, that the same property cannot be trans-
ferred from one substance to another. And there-

 
520

fore, when we say the identity, or sameness, of a
plant consists in a continuation of the same life,
communicated under the same organization, to a
number of particles of matter, whether the same or
not, the word same, when applied to life and to or-
ganization, cannot possibly be understood to signify,
what it signifies in this very sentence, when applied
to matter. In a loose and popular sense, then, the
life, and the organization, and the plant, are justly
said to be the same, notwithstanding the perpetual
change of the parts. But in a strict and philoso-
phical manner of speech, 1.0 man, no being, no mode
of being, no any-thing, can be the same with that,
with which it hath indeed nothing the same. Now,
sameness is used in this latter sense when applied to
persons. The identity of these, therefore, cannot
cubsist with diversity of substance.

The thing here considered, and demonstratively,
as I think, determined, is proposed by Mr. Locke
in these words, Whether it, that is, the same self or
person, be the same identical substance? And he
has suggested what is a much better answer to the
question, than that which he gives it in form. For
he defines person, a thinking, intelligent being, &c.
and personal identity, the sameness of a rational be-
ing.* The question then is, whether the same ra-
tional being is the same substance; which needs no
answer, because being and substance, in this place,
stand for the same idea. The ground of the doubt,
whether the same person be the same substance,
is said to be this: that the consciousness of our

 

 

# Locke's Works, vol. i. p. 146.

521

own existence, in youth and in old age, or in any
two joint successive moments, is not the same indi-
vidual action,* that is, not the same consciousness,
but different successive consciousnesses. Now, it is
strange that this should have occasioned such per-
plexities. For it is surely conceivable, that a per-
son may have a capacity of knowing some object or
other to be the same now, which it was when he
contemplated it formerly; yet in this case, where,
by the supposition, the object is perceived to be the
same, the perception of it in any two moments, can-
not be one and the same perception. And thus,
though the successive consciousnesses which we have
of our own existence are not the same, yet are
they consciousnesses of one and the same thing or ob-
ject; of the same person, self, or living Aerts The
person, of whose existence the consciousness is felt
now, and was felt an hour or a year ago, is discerned
to be, not two persons, but one and the same person;
and therefore is one and the same. ;
Mr. Locke’s observations upon this subject ap-
pear hasty; and he seems to profess himself dissat-
isfied with suppositions which he has made relating
to it.+ But some of those hasty observations have
been carried to a strange length by others; whose
notion, when traced and examined to the bottom
amounts, I think, to this: ¢ That personality is 0
a permanent, but a transient thing; that it lives and
dies, begins and ends, continually: that no one can
any more remain one and the same person two mo-

 

$ Lake, pp- 146, 147. + Locke, p. 152.
{ See an answer to Dr. Clarke’s third defence is
Mr. Dodwell, 2d edit. pp. 44, 56, &c. Sk akiens

 
522

ments together, than two successive moments can be
one and the same moment: that our substance is in-
deed continually changing; but whether this be so
or not, is, it seems, nothing to the purpose; since
it is not substance, but consciousness, alone, which
constitutes personality ; which consciousness being
successive, cannot be the same in any two moments,
nor consequently the personality constituted by it.”
And from hence it must follow, that it is a fallacy
upon ourselves, to charge our present selves with
any thing we did, or to imagine our present selves
interested in any thing which befell us yester-
day, or that our present self will be interested in
what will befall us to-morrow: since our present
self is not, in reality, the same with the self of
yesterday, but another like self or person coming
in its room, and mistaken for it; to which another
self will succeed to-morrow. This, I say, must fol-
low: for if the self or person of to-day, and that
of to-morrow, are not the same, but only like per-
sons, the person of to-day is really no more inter-
ested in what will befall the person of to-morrow,
than in what will befall any other person. It may
be thought, perhaps, that this is not a just represen=-
tation of the opinion we are speaking of; because
those who maintain it allow, that a person is the
same as far back as his remembrance reaches. And,
indeed, they do use the words identity and same

person. Nor will language permit these words to
be laid aside: since, if they were, there must be,
I know not what ridiculous periphrasis substituted in
the room of them. But they cannot, consistently
with themselves, mean, that the person is really the

523

same. For it is self-evident, that the personality
cannot be really the same, if, as they expressly as-
sert, that in which it consists is not the same. And
as, consistently with themselves, they cannot, so, I
think, it appears they do not mean, that the person
is really the same, but only that he is so in a ficti-
tious sense: in such a sense only as they assert; for
this they do assert, that any number of persons what-
ever may be the same person. The bare unfolding
this notion, and laying it thus naked and iy
seems the best confutation of it. However, since
great stress is said to be put upon it, I add the fol-
lowing things :

First, This notion is absolutely contradictory to
that certain conviction, which necessazily and every
moment rises within us, when we turn our thoughts
upon ourselves: when we reflect upon what is
past, and look forward upon what is to come.
All imagination of a daily change of that living
agent which each man calls himself, for another,
or of any such change throughout our whole present
life, is entirely borne down by our natural sense
of things. Nor is it possible for a person in his
wits to alter his conduct, with regard to his
health or affairs, from a suspicion, that though he
should live to-morrow, he should not, however, be
the same person he is to-day. And yet, if it be
reasonable to act, with respect to a future life, upon
this notion, that personality is transient; it is rea-
sonable to act upon it, with respect to the present.
Here then is a notion equally applicable to religion
and to our temporal concerns; and every one sees
and feels the inexpressible absurdity of it in the lat-

 
 

 

524
ter case. If, therefore, any can take up with it in
the former, this cannot proceed from the reason of
the thing, but must he owing to an inward unfair-
ness, and secret corruption of heart.

Secondly, It is not an idea, or abstract notion, or
quality, but a being only, which is capable of life
and action, of happiness and misery. Now all be-
ings confessedly continue the same, during the
whole time of their existence. Consider then a
living being now existing, and which has existed for
any time alive: this living being must have done and
suffered and enjoyed, what it has done and suffered
and enjoyed formerly (this living being, I say, and
not another) as really as it does and suffers and en-
joys, what it does, and suffers, and enjoys, this in-
stant. All these successive actions, enjoyments, and
sufferings, are actions, enjoyments, and sufferings,
of the same living being. And they are so, prior
to all consideration of its remembering or forgetting;
since remembering or forgetting can make no altera-
tion in the truth of past matter of fact. And sup-
pose this being endued with limited powers of know-
ledge and memory, there is no more difficulty in
conceiving it to have a power of knowing itself to be
the same living being which it was some time ago,
of remembering some of its actions, sufferings, and
enjoyments, and forgetting others, than in conceiv-
ing it to know, or remember, or forget, any thing
else.

Thirdly, Every person is conscious that he is now
the same person or self he was, as far back as his
remembrance reaches: since, when any one reflects
upon a past action of his own, he is just as certain

525

of the person who did that action, namely, himself,
the person who now reflects upon it, as he is certain
that the action was at all done. Nay, very often a
person’s assurance of an action having been done, of
which he is absolutely assured, arises wholly from
the consciousness that he himself did it. And this
he, person, or self, must either be a substance, or the
property of some substance. If he, if person, be a
substance; then consciousness that he is the same
person, is consciousness that he is the same substance.
If the person, or he, be the property of a substance;
«till consciousness that he is the same property, is as
certain a proof that his substance remains the same,
as consciousness that he remains the same substance
would be; since the same property cannot be trans-
ferred from one substance to another.

But though we are thus certain that. we are the
same agents, living beings, or substances, now,
which we were as far back as our remembrance
reaches; yet it is asked, Whether we may not pos-
sibly be deceived in it? And this question may
be asked at the end of any demonstration whatever;
because it is a question concerning the truth of per-
ception by memory. And he who can doubt, whe-
ther perception by memory can in this case be depend-
ed upon, may doubt also, whether perception by de-
duction and reasoning, which also include memory,
or, indeed, whether intuitive perception can. Here,
then we can go no farther. For it is ridiculous to
attempt to prove the truth of those perceptions,
whose truth we can no otherwise prove, than by
other perceptions of exactly the same kind with
them, and which there is just the same ground to

 
Te

i RA Si we

suspect; or to attempt to prove the truth of our fa-

culties, which can no otherwise be proved, than by
very suspected faculties

the use or means of those
themselves.

DISSERT. II.

OF THE NATURE OF VIRTUE.

Tuar which renders beings capable of moral go-
vernment, is their having a moral nature, and moral
faculties of perception and of action. Brute crea-
tures arc impressed and actuated by various instincts
and propensions: so also are we. But, additional to
this, we have a capacity of reflecting upon actions
and characters, and making them an object to our
thought: and on doing this, we naturally and un-
avoidably approve some actions, under the peculiar
view of their being virtuous, and of good-desert;
and disapprove others, as vicious and of ill-desert.
That we have this moral approving and disapprov-
ing * faculty, is certain from our experiencing it
in ourselves, and recognizing it in each other. It
appears from our exercising it unavoidably, in the
approbation and disapprobation even of feigned cha-
racters: from the words, right and wrong, odious

 

* This way of speaking is taken from Epictetus,*® and is made
ase of, as seeming the most full, and least liable to cavil. And
the moral faculty may be understood to have these two epithets,
Soxipaorinn and awxodoxspacrixn, upon a double account; because,
upon a survey of actions, whether before or after they are done,
it determines them to be good or evil; and also because it deter-
mines itself to be the guide of action and of life, in contradistinc-
tion from all other faculties, or natural principles of action: in
the very same manner, as speculative reason directly and naturally
judges of speculative truth and falsehood : and, at the same time,
is attended with a consciousness upon reflection, that the natural
right to judge of them belongs to it.

*# Arr. Epict. lib. i. cap. 1.

 
 

528

and amiable, base and worthy, with many others of
like signification in all languages, applied to oo
and characters; from the many written systems 0
morals which suppose it; since it cannot be imagined,
that all these authors, throughout all these treatises,
had absolutely no meaning at all to their Yous ora
meaning merely chimerical : from our AE sense
of gratitude, which implies a distinction Stren
merely being the instrument of good and en ing
it; from the like distinction, every one makes, be-
tween injury and mere harm, which, Hobbes _ I
peculiar to mankind; and between injury an jus
punishment, a distinction plainly natural, prior to the
consideration of human laws. It is manifest, great
part of common language, and of common behaviour
over the world, is formed upon supposition of Si a
moral faculty; whether called conscience, moral rea=
son, moral sense, or divine reason; whether consi-
dered as a sentiment of the understanding, or % a
perception of the heart, or, which seems fee trut ’ 8
including both. Nor is it at all doubtful in gate,
ral, what course of action this faculty, 2 pe =
discerning power within us, approves, an y o %
disapproves. For, as much as it has wp pe
wherein virtue consists, or whatever groun« %
there may be about particulars, yet, In Gime: . t ee
is in reality an universally acknowledge stan 8 E
it. It is that which all ages and all Sones 5
made profession of in public; 1t 1s that w i “i o
man you meet, puts on the show of; it 1s : w we
the primary and fundamental laws of all i : soo
tutions, over the face of the earth, make Y ; :
business and endeavour to enforce the practice 0

529

upon mankind ; namely, justice, veracity, and regard
to common good. It being manifest, then, in gene-
ral, that we have such a faculty, or discernment as
this, it may be of use to remark some things, more
distinctly, concerning it.
First, It ought to be observed, that the object of
this faculty is actions,* comprehending under that
name, active or practical principles; those principles
from which men would act, if occasions and circum-
stances ‘gave them power; and which, when fixed
and habitual in any person, we call, his character. It
does not appear, that brutes have the least reflex
sense of actions, as distinguished from events; or
that will and design, which constitute the very na-
ture of actions as such, are at all an object to their
perception. But to ours they are; and they are the
object, and the only one, of the approving and dis-
approving faculty. Acting, conduct, behaviour, ab-
stracted from all regard to what is, in fact and event,
the consequence of it, is itself the natural object of
the moral discernment, as speculative truth and
falsehood is of speculative reason. Intention of such
and such consequences, indeed, is always included ;
for it is part of the action itself: but though the
intended good or bad consequences do not follow, we
have exactly the same sense of the action, as if they
did. In like manner, we think well or ill of cha-
racters, abstracted from all consideration of the good
or the evil which persons of such characters have it
actually in their power to do. We never, in the

® old: nn apiTh xal xaxie—iv weics, air ivsgysic. M. Anton.

lib. 9. 16. —Virtutis laus omnis in actione consistit. Cic. Offic.
Lib. 1. c. 6.

Zz 17

a

Ee

 
 

530

moral way, applaud or blame either ourselves or
others, for what we enjoy or what we suffer, or, for
having impressions made upon us which we consider
as altogether out of our power; but only for what
we do or would have done, had it been in our
power; or for what we leave undone which we might
have done, or would have left undone though we
could have done it.

Secondly, Our sense or discernment of actions, as
morally good or evil, implies in it a sense or discern-
ment of them as of good or il desert. It may be
difficult to explain this perception, 80 as to answer
all the questions which might be asked concerning
it; but every one speaks of such actions as deserving
punishment ; and it is not, I suppose, pretended,
that they have absolutely no meaning at all to the
expression. Now, the meaning plainly is not, that
we conceive it for the good of society, that the doer
of such actions should be made to suffer. For if
unhappily it were resolved, that a man who, by some
innocent action, was infected with the plague, should
be left to perish, lest, by other people coming near
him, the infection should spread; no one would say,
he deserved this treatment. Innocence and ill de-
sert are inconsistent ideas. Ill desert always sup-
poses guilt; and if one be not part of the other, yet
they are evidently and naturally connected in our
mind. The sight of a man in misery raises our
compassion towards him; and, if this misery be in-
flicted on him by another, our indignation against
the author of it. But when we are informed, that
the sufferer is a villain, and is punished only for his

treachery or cruelty, our compassion exceedingly

 

531

lessens, and, in many instances, our indignation
wholly subsides. Now, what produces this effect
is the conception of that in the sufferer, which vo
call ill desert. Upon considering, ich, or viewing
together, our notion of vice and that of mise :
there results a third, that of ill desert. And er
there is in human creatures an association of the
two ideas, natural and moral evil, wickedness and
punishment. If this association were merely arti-
ficial or accidental, it were nothing; but re most
unquestionably natural, it greatly concerns as to at-
tend to it, instead of endeavouring to explain it
away.

: It may be observed farther, concerning our percep-
tion of good and of ill desert, that the Br 3
weak with respect to common instances of te
One reason of which may be, that it does not appear
to a spectator, how far such instances of virtue pro-
ceed trom a virtuous principle, or in what ec I
principle is prevalent; since a very weak voatd o
virtue may be sufficient to make men act wel in
many common instances. And, on the other hand
our perception of ill desert in vicious actions essai,
in proportion to the temptations men are thought
have had to such vices. For, vice in _— crea-
tures consisting chiefly in the absence or waht of the
virtuous principle, though a man be overcome, sup-
pose, by tortures, it does not from thence SE E
what degree the virtuous principle was anti
All that appears is, that he had it not in such a do
gree, as to prevail over the temptation; but possibly
he had it in a degree, which would have rendered him

proof against common temptations.
z 2

 
532
Thirdly, Our perception of vice and ill desert

arises from, and is the result of, a comparison of ac-
tions with the nature and capacities of the agent. For
the mere neglect of doing what we ought to do, would,
in many cases, be determined by all men to be in
the highest degree vicious. And this determination
must arise from such comparison, and be the result
of it; because such neglect would not be vicious in
creatures of other natures and capacities, as brutes.
And it is the same also with respect to positive vices,
or such as consist in doing what we ought not. For,
every one has a different sense of harm done by an
idiot, madman, or child, and by one of mature and
common understanding ; though the action of both,
including the intention, which is part of the action,
be the same; as it may be, since idiots and madmen,
as well as children, are capable, not only of doing
mischief, but also of intending it. Now, this dif-
ference must arise from somewhat discerned in the
nature or capacities of one, which renders the action
vicious; and the want of which in the other, renders
the same action innocent, or less vicious; and this
plainly supposes a comparison, whether reflected up-
on or not, between the action and capacities cf the
agent, previous to our determining an action to be
vicious. And hence arises a proper application of
the epithets, incongruous, unsuitable, disproportion-
ate, unfit, to actions which our moral faculty deter-
mines to be vicious.

Fourthly, It deserves to be considered, whether
men are more at liberty, in point of morals, to make
themselves miserable without reason, than to make
other people so; or dissolutely to neglect their own

533

greater good, for the sake of a present lesser grati-
fication, than they are to neglect the good of others,
whom nature has committed to their care. It should
seem, that a due concern about our own interest or
happiness, and a reasonable endeavour to secure and
promote it, which is, I think, very much the mean-
ing of the word prudence in our language; it should
seem, that this is virtue, and the es behaviour
faulty and blameable : since, in the calmest way of
reflection, we approve of the first, and condemn the
other conduct, both in ourselves and others. This
approbation and disapprobation are altogether differ-
ent from mere desire of our own, or of their happi-
ness, and from sorrow upon missing it. For ae
object or occasion of this last kind of perception, is
or uneasiness; whereas the object of the
rst is active 1 as
thoughts fix Wend b tities ie Wo ou
y condition; in the other,
our conduct. It is true, indeed, that nature has not
given us so sensible a disapprobation of imprudence
and folly either in ourselves or others, as of false-
hood, injustice, and cruelty; I suppose, because that
constant habitual sense of private interest and good
which we always carry about with us, redler sh
te disapprobation less necessary, less wanting,
to keep us from im rudently neglecting y
happiness, and foolishly wil a ey
: g , than 1t
is necessary and wanting to keep us from injuring
others, to whose good we cannot have so strong ad
constant a regard; and also because fruprodonce and
folly, appearing to bring its own punishment more
immediately and constantly than injurious behaviour
it less needs the additional punishment, which would
z3

 
534

be inflicted upon it by others, had they the same
sensible indignation against it, as against injustice
and fraud and cruelty. Besides, unhappiness being
in itself the natural object of compassion, the unhap-
piness which people bring upon themselves, though
it be wilfully, excites in us some pity for them and
this, of course, lessens our displeasure against them.
But still it is matter of experience, that we are formed
so, as to reflect very severely upon the greater in-
stances of imprudent neglects and foolish rashness,
both in ourselves and others. In instances of this
kind, men often say of themselves with remorse, and
of others with some indignation, that they deserved
to suffer such calamities, because they brought them
upon themselves, and would not take warning.
Particularly, when persons come to poverty and dis-
tress by a long course of extravagance, and after
frequent admonitions, though without falsehood or
injustice; we plainly do not regard such people as
alike objects of compassion, with those who are
brought into the same condition by unavoidable ac-
cidents. From these things it appears, that pru-
dence is a species of virtue, and folly of vice: mean-
ing by folly, somewhat quite different from mere in-
capacity; a thoughtless want of that regard and at-
tention to our own happiness, which we had capacity
for. And this the word properly includes, and as it
seems, in its usual acceptation; for we scarce apply
it to brute creatures.

However, if any person be disposed to dispute
the matter, I shall very willingly give him up the
words virtue and vice, as not applicable to prudence and
folly ; but must beg leave to insist, that the faculty

 

935

within us, which is the judge of actions, approves
of prudent actions, and disapproves imprudent
ones; I say, prudent and imprudent actions as such,
and considered distinctly from the happiness or
misery which they occasion. And by the way, this
observation may help to determine, what justness
there is in that objection against religion, that it
teaches us to be interested and selfish.

Fifthly, Without inquiring how far, and in what
sense, virtue is resolvable into benevolence, and vice
into the want of it; it may be proper to observe, that
benevolence, and the want of it, singly considered,
are in no sort the whole of virtue and vice. For if
this were the case, in the review of one’s own char-
acter, or that of others, our moral understanding, and
moral sense would be indifferent to every thing, but
the degrees in which benevolence prevailed, and the
degrees in which it was wanting. That is, we
should neither approve of benevolence to some per-
sons rather than to others, nor disapprove injustice
and falsehood upon any other account, than merely
as an overbalance of happiness was foreseen likely to
be produced by the first, and of misery by the second.
But now, on the contrary, suppose two men com-
petitors for any thing whatever, which would be of
equal advantage to each of them; though nothing
indeed would be more impertinent, than for a stran-
ger to busy himself to get one of them preferred to
the other; yet such endeavour would be virtue, in
behalf of a friend or benefactor, abstracted from all
consideration of distant consequences: as that ex-
amples of gratitude and the cultivation of friendship,
would be of general good to the world. Again,

 
536

suppose one man should, by fraud or violence, take
from another the fruit of his labour, with intent to
give it to a third, who, he thought, would have as
much pleasure from it, as would balance the pleasure
which the first possessor would have had in the en-
joyment, and his vexation in the loss of it; suppose
also that no bad consequences would follow; yet
such an action would surely be vicious. Nay, far-
ther, were treachery, violence, and injustice, no
otherwise vicious, than as foreseen likely to produce
an overbalance of misery to society; then, if in any
case a man could procure to himself as great advan-
tage by an act of injustice, as the whole foreseen in-
convenience, likely to be brought upon others by it,
would amount to, such a piece of injustice would not
be faulty or vicious at all, because it would be no

more than, in any other case, for a man to prefer his

own satisfaction to anothers in equal degrees. The
fact then appears to be, that we are constituted so,
as to condemn falsehood, unprovoked violence, in-
justice, and to approve of benevolence to some pre-
ferably to others, abstracted from all consideration,
which conduct is likeliest to produce an overbalance
of happiness or misery. And therefore, were the
Author of nature to propose nothing to himself as
an end but the production of happiness, were his moral
character merely that of benevolence; yet ours is not
so. Upon that supposition, indeed, the only reason
of his giving us the above-mentioned approbation of
benevolence to some persons rather than others, and
disapprobation of falsehood, unprovoked violence,
and injustice, must be, that he foresaw this consti-
tution of our nature wouid produce more happiness,

 

537

than forming us with a temper of mere general be-
nevolence. But still, since this is our constitution
falsehood, violence, injustice, must be vice in us, and
benevolence, to some preferably to others, virtue,
abstracted from all consideration of the overbalance
of evil or good, which they may appear likely to pro-
duce.

Now, if human creatures are endued with such a
moral nature as we have been explaining, or with a
moral faculty, the natural object of which is actions;
moral government must consist in rendering them
happy and unhappy, in rewarding and punishing
them, as they follow, neglect, or depart from, the
moral rule of action interwoven in their nature, or
suggested and enforced by this moral faculty;* in
rewarding and punishing them upon account of their
so doing.

i am not sensible that I have, in this fifth obser-
vation, contradicted what any author designed to as-
sert. But some of great and distinguished merit
have, I think, expressed themselves in a manner
which may occasion some danger to careless readers,
of imagining the whole of virtue to consist in singly
aiming, according to the best of their judgment, at
promoting the happiness of mankind in the present
state ; and the whole of vice, in doing what they
foresee, or might foresee, is likely to produce an
overbalance of unhappiness in it; than which mis-
takes, none can be conceived more terrible. For it

is certain, that some of the most shocking instances
of injustice, adultery, murder, perjury, and even of

 

# Part i. chap. 6. p. 308.

 
538

persecution, may, in many supposable cases, not
have the appearance of being likely to produce an
overbalance of misery in the present state; perhaps
sometimes may have the contrary appearance. For
this reflection might easily be carried on; but I for-
bear.— The happiness of the world is the concern of
him who is the Lord and the Proprietor of it; nor
do we know what we are about, when we endeavour
to promote the good of mankind in any ways, but
those which he has directed; that is, indeed, in all
ways not contrary to veracity and justice. 1 speak
thus upon supposition of persons really endeavouring,
in some sort, to do good without regard to these.
But the truth seems to be, that such supposed en-
deavours proceed, almost always, from ambition, the
spirit of party, or some indirect principle, concealed,
perhaps, in great measure from persons themselves.

And though it is our business and our duty to en-

deavour, within the bounds of veracity and justice,
to contribute to the ease, convenience, and even
cheerfulness and diversion of our fellow-creatures ;
et from our short views, it is greatly uncertain whe-
ther this endeavour will, in particular instances, pro-
duce an overbalance of happiness upon the whole;
since so many and distant things must come into the
account. And that which makes it our duty, is,
that there is some appearance that it will, and no
positive appearance sufficient to balance this, on the
contrary side; and also, that such benevolent en-
deavour is a cultivation of that most excellent of all
virtuous principles, the active principle of benevo-
lence.
However, though veracity, as well as justice, is to

 

 

539

be our rule of life; it must be added, otherwise a
snare will be laid in the way of some plain men, that
the use of common forms of speech generally under-
stood, cannot be falsehood, and, in general that there
can be no designed falsehood without designing to de-
ceive. It must likewise be observed, that in num-
berless cases, a man may be under the strictest obli-
gations to what he foresees will deceive, without his
intending it. For it is impossible not to foresee,
that the words and actions of men in different ranks
and employments, and of different educations, will
perpetually be mistaken by each other; and it can-
not but be so, whilst they will judge with the ut-
most carelessness, as they aaily do, of what they are
not, perhaps, enough informed to be competent

judges of, even though they considered it with great
attention.

FINIS.

 

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