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THE 
 
 ANALOGY 
 
 OF 
 
 RELIGION, 
 
 NATURAL AND REVEALED, 
 
 TO THB 
 
 CONSTITUTION AND COURSE OF NATURE. 
 
 TO WKKH ARE ADDED, 
 
 TWO BRIEF DISSERTATIONS: 
 
 ti ON PERSONAL IDENTITY: AND II. ON THB NATURB OF VIRTUE. 
 TOGETHER "WITH 
 
 A CHARGE, 
 
 DELIVERED TO THE CLERGY OF THE DIOCESE OF DURHAM^ AT THE 
 PRIMARY VISITATION, IN THE YEAR 1751» 
 
 BY JOSEPH BUTLER, LL. D. 
 
 XAT£ lobs bishop of SCBBAtf. 
 
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 SkVO SOS aCSBITUBj BBFEBAT; VT IHCZBTA CIRTIS FBOBET. 
 
 dUINT. ISST. OBAT. It. 1. C. 6. 
 
 THIRD AMERICAN EDITION. 
 
 TO WHICH IS PREFIXED 
 
 A LIFE OF THE AUTHOR, 
 
 BY DR. KIPPISj 
 
 WITH A PREFACE, GIVING SOME ACCOUNT OF HIS CHARACTER AND 
 
 WRITINGS, 
 
 BY SAMUEL HALIFAX, D. D. 
 
 LATE LORD BISHOP OF GLOUCESTER. 
 
 HARTFORD: 
 PUBUSHED BY SAMUEL G. GOODRICH. 
 
 0. JT. HSWGOMB, rBIBT. DSEBHSU)* 
 
 1819. 
 
Dtp. S. 
 
 THE LIFE 
 OF 
 
 DR. BUTLER. 
 
 DR. JOSEPH BUTLER, a prelate of the most distinguished 
 character and abilities, was born at Wantage, in Berkshire, in the 
 year 1692. His father, Mv. Thomas Butler, who was a substantial 
 and reputable shopkeeper in that town, observing in his son Joseph* 
 an excellent genius and inclination for learning, determined to edu- 
 cate him for the ministry, among the Protestant dissenters of the 
 presbyterian denomination. For this, purpose, a!fter he had gone 
 through a proper course of grammatical literature, at the free-gram- 
 mar school of his native place, untier the care of the Rev. Mr. Philip 
 Barton, a clergyman of the church of England, he was sent to a dis- 
 senting academy, then kept at Gloucester, but which was soon after- 
 M'ards removed to Tewkesbury. The principal tutor of this academy- 
 was Mr. Jones, a man of uncommon abilities and know ledge, who 
 had the honor of training up several scholars, who became of great 
 eminence, both in the established church and among the dissenters. 
 At Tewkesbury, Mr. Butler made an extraordinary progress in the 
 study of divinity; of which he gave a remarkable proof, in the letters 
 addressed by him, while he resided at TewHesbury, to Dr. Samuel 
 Clarke, laying before him the doubts, that had arisen in his mind, 
 concerning the conclusiveness of some arguments in the Doctor's 
 demonstration of the being and attributes of God. The first of these 
 letters was dated the 4th November, 1713; and the sagacity and depth 
 of thought displayed in it, immediately excited Dr. Clarke's particular 
 notice. This condescension encouraged Mr. Butler to address the 
 Doctor again upon the same subject, which likewise was answered by 
 him; and the correspondence being carried on in three other letters, 
 the whole was annexed to the celebrated treatise before mentioned, 
 and the collection has been retained in all the subsequent editions of 
 that work. The management of this correspondence was intrusted 
 by Mr. Butler, to his friend and fellow-pupil, Mr. Seeker, who, in 
 order to conceal the aft'air, undertook to convey the letters to the 
 post-office at Gloucester, and to bring back Dr. Clarke's answers. 
 When Mr. Butler's name was discovered to the Doctor, the candor, 
 modesty, and good sense with which he had written, immediately 
 procured him the friendship of that eminent and excellent man. Our 
 
 • He was the yo'ingest of eight children. 
 
 275006 
 
4 THE LIFE OF 
 
 ^oung student was not, however, during his continuance at Tewkes* 
 urjr, solely employed in metaphysical speculations and inquiries. 
 Another subject of his serious consideration was, the propriety of 
 his becoming a dissenting minister. Accordingly, he entered into 
 an examination of the principles of non -conformity ; the result of 
 which was, such a dissatisfaction with them, as determined him to 
 conform to the established ehurch. This intention was, at first, dis- 
 agreeable to his father, who endeavored to divert him from his purpose; 
 and, with that view, called in the assistance of some eminent pres- 
 byterian divines; but finding his son's resalution to be fixed, ne at 
 length suffered him to be removed to Oxford, where he was admitted 
 a commoner of Oriel college on the ITth March, 1714. At what time 
 he took orders doth not appear, nor who the bishop was by whom he 
 was ordained; but it is certain that he entered into the church soon 
 after his admission at Oxfonl, if it be true, as is asserted, that 
 he sometimes assisted Mr. Edward Talbot in the divine service, at 
 his living of Hendred, near Wantage. With this gentleman, who 
 was the second son of Dr. William Talbot, successively bishop of 
 Oxford, Salisbury, and Durham, Mr. Butler formed an intimate 
 friendship at Oriel college; which friendship laid the foundation of 
 all his subsequent preferments, and procured for him a very honor- 
 able situation when he was only twenty-six years of age. For it was 
 in 1718, that, at the recommendation of Mr. Talbot, in conjunction 
 with that of Dr. Clarke, he was appointed by Sir Joseph Jekyll to be 
 preacher at the Rolls. This was three years before he had taken any 
 degree at the university, where he did not go out bachelor-of-law till 
 the 10th June, 1721, which, however, was as soon as that degree 
 could suitably be conferred upon him. Mr. Butler continued at the 
 Rolls till 1726; in the beginning of which year he published, in one 
 volume octavo, " Fifteen Sermons preached at that Chapel." In the 
 meanwhile, by the patronage of Dr. Talbot, bishop of Durham, to 
 "whose notice he had been recommended (together with Mr. Benson 
 and Mr. Seeker) by Mr. Edward Talbot, on his death-bed, our author 
 had been presented first to the rectory of Haughton, near Darlington, 
 and afterwards to that of Stanhope, in the same diecese. The benefice 
 of Haughton was given to him in 1722, and that of Stanhope in 1725. 
 At Haughton, there was a necessity for rebuilding a great part of the 
 |>arsonage-house, and Mr. Butler had neither money nor talents for 
 that work. Mr. Seeker, therefore, who had always the interest of 
 his friends at heart, and acquired a very considerable influence with 
 Bishop Talbot, persuaded that prelate to give Mr. Butler, in exchange 
 for Haughton, the rectory Qt Stanhope, which was not only free from 
 any such incumbrance, but was likewise of much superior value, being 
 indeed one of the richest parsonages in England. Whilst our author 
 continued preacher at the Rolls-chapel, he divided his time between 
 his duty in tpwn and country; but when he quitted the Rolls, he re- 
 sided, during seven years, wholly at Stanhope, in the conscientious 
 discharge of every obligation appertaining to a good parish priest. 
 This retirement, however, was too solitary for his disposition, which 
 had in it a natural cast of gloominess. And though his recluse hours 
 were by no means lost, either to private improvement or public utility^ 
 jct he felt at times, very painfully, the waot of that select society 
 
DR. BUTLER. 5 , 
 
 of friends to which he had been accustomed, and which could instpire 
 him with the greatest cheerfulness. Mr. Seeker, therefore, who knew 
 this, was extremely anxious to draw him out into a more active and 
 conspicuous scene, and omitted no opportunity of expressing this 
 desire to such as he <!hought capable of promoting it. Having himself 
 been appointed king's chaplain in 1732 he took occasion, in a con- 
 versation which he had the honor of holding with queen Caroline, to 
 mention to her his friend Mr. Butler. The queen said she thought 
 he had been dead. Mr. Seeker assured her he was not. Yet, her 
 majesty afterwards asked Archbishop Blackburn if he was not dead; 
 his answer was, "No, madam; but he is buried." Mr. Seeker con- 
 tinuing his purpose of endeavoring to bring his friend out of his re- 
 tirement, found means, upon Mr. Charles Talbot's being made lord- 
 chancellor, to have Mr. Butler recommended to him for his chaplain. 
 His lordship accepted, and sent for him; and this promotion calling 
 him to town, he took Oxford in his way, and was admitted there to . 
 the degree of doctor-of-law, on the 8th December, 1733. The lord - 
 chancellor, who gave him also a prebend in the church of Rochester, 
 had consented that he should reside at his parish of Stanhope one 
 half of the year. 
 
 Dr. Butler being thus brought back into the world, his merit and 
 his talents soon introduced him to particular notice, and paved the 
 way for his rising to those high dignities which he afterwards enjoyed. 
 In 1736, he was appointed clerk-of-the-closet to queen Caroline; and, 
 in the same year, he presented to her majesty a copy of his excellent 
 treatise, entitled, " The Analogy of Religion, Natural and Revealed, 
 to the Constitution and Course of Nature." His attendance upon 
 his royal mistress, by her especial command, was from seven to nine 
 in the evening every day: and though this particular relation to that 
 excellent and learned queen was soon determined by her death in 
 1737, yet he had been so effectually recommended by her, as well as 
 by the late lord-chancellor Talbot, to his majesty's favor, that, in the 
 next year, he was raised to the highest order of the church, by a nom- 
 ination to the bishopric of Bristol; to which see he was consecrated 
 on the third of December, 1738. King George II. not being satisfied 
 with this proof of his regard to Dr. Butler, promoted him, in 1740, 
 to the (Jeanry of St. Paul's, London; into which he was installed on 
 the 24th of May in that year. Finding the demands of this dignity 
 to be incompatible with his parish-duty at Stanhope, he immediately 
 resigned that rich benefice. Besides our prelate's unremitted atten- 
 tion to his peculiar obligations, he was called upon to preach several 
 discourses on public occasions, which were afterwards separately 
 printed, and have since been annexed to the latter editions of the 
 Sermons at the Rolls-chapel. 
 
 In 1746, upon the death of Dr. Egerton, bishop of Hereford, Dr. 
 Butler was made clerk-of-the-closet to the king; and on the 16th 
 October, 1750, he received another distinguished mark of his majes- 
 ty's favor, by being translated to the see of Durham. This was on 
 the 16th of October; in that year, upon the decease of Dr. Edward 
 Chandler, our prelate, being thus appointed to preside over a diocese 
 with which he had long been connected, delivered his first,and indeed 
 his last charge to his clergy, at hi"* primary visitation in 1751. The 
 
 275006 
 
6 THE LIFE OF 
 
 principal object of it was, " External Religion." The bishop having 
 observed, with deep concern, the great and growing neglect of" serious 
 piety in the kingdom, insisted strongly on the usefulness of outward 
 forms and institutions, in fixing and preserving a sense of devotion 
 and duty in the minds of men. In doing this, h« was thought by sev- 
 eral per-ions to speak too favorably of Pagan and Popish ceremonies, 
 and to countenance, in a certain degree, the cause of superstition. 
 Under that apprehension, an able and spirited writer, who was under- 
 stood to be a clergyman of the cliurch of England, published in 1752, 
 a pamphlet, entitled, " A serious Enquiry into the Use and Import- 
 ance of External Religion: occasioned by some passages in the Right 
 Rev. the Lord Bishop of Durham's Charge to the Clergy of that Dio- 
 cese; — Humbly addressed to his Lordship." Many persons, however, 
 and we believe the greater part of tiie ciergy of the diocese, did not 
 think our prelate's charge so exceptionable as"^it appeared to this 
 author. The charge, being printed at Durham, and having never been 
 annexed to any of Dr. Butler's other works, is now become extremely 
 scarce; and it is observable, that it is the only one of his publications 
 which ever produced him a direct literary antagenist. 
 
 By this promotion, our worthy bishop was furnished with ample 
 means of exerting the virtue of charity; a virtue which eminently 
 abounded in him, and the exercise of which was his highest delight. 
 But this gratification he did not long enjoy. He had been but a short 
 time seated in his new bishopric, when his health began visibly to 
 decline; and having been complimented, during his indisposition, upon 
 account of his great resignation to the Divine will, he is said to have 
 expressed some regret, that he should be taken from the present world 
 so soon after he had been rendered capable of becoming much more 
 useful in it. In his last illness, he was carried to Bristol, to try the 
 waters of that place; but these proving ineffectual, he removed to 
 Bath, where, being past recovery, he died on the l6th of June, 1752. 
 His corpse was conveyed to Bristol, and interred in the cathedral 
 there, where a monument, with an inscription, is erected to his 
 memory. 
 
 On the greatness of Bishop Butler's character we need not enlarge; 
 for, his profound knowledge, and the prodigious strength of his mind, 
 are amply displayed in his incomparable writings. His piety was of 
 the most serious and fervent, and, perliaps, somewhat of the ascetic 
 kind. His benevolence was warm, generous, and diffusive. Whilst 
 he was bishop of Bristol, he expended, in repairing and improving the 
 episcopal palace, four thousand pounds, which is said to have been 
 more than the whole revenues of the bishopric amounted to, during 
 his continuance in that see. Besides his private benefactions, he was 
 a contributor to the infirmary at Bristol, and a subscriber to three 
 of the hospitals at London. He was likewise a principal promoter, 
 though not the first founder, of the infirmary at Newcastle, in North- 
 umberland, in supporting the hospitality and dignity of the rich 
 and powerful diocese of Durham, he was desirous of imitating the 
 spirit of his patron, Bishop Talbot. In this spirit, he set apart three 
 days fe\ery week* for t'ne reception and entertainment of the principal 
 gentry of the country. Nor were even the clergy who had the poor- 
 est benefices, neglected by him. He not only occasionally invited 
 
DR. BUTLER. 7 
 
 them to dine with him, but condescended to visit them at their res- 
 pective parishes. By his will he left five hundred pounds to the soci- 
 ety for propagating the gospel in foreign parts, and some legacies to 
 liis friends and domestics. His executor and residuary legatee was 
 his chaplain, the Rev. Dr. Nathaniel Foster, a divine of distinguished 
 literature. Bishop Butler was never married. Soon after his decease, 
 the following lines, by way of epitaph, were written concerning him; 
 and were printed first, if we recollect aright, in the London Magazine. 
 
 Beneath this raarWe Butler lies entombed. 
 
 Who, witli a soul inflamed by love divine. 
 His life in presence of his God consumed. 
 
 Like the bright lamps before the holy shrine. 
 His aspect pleasing, mind with learning fraught. 
 
 His eloquence was like a chain of gold. 
 
 That the wild passions of mankind controlled; 
 Merit, wherever to be found, he sought. 
 Desire of transient i-iches he had none; 
 
 These he, with bounteous hand, did well dispense; 
 
 Bent to fulfil the ends of Providence; 
 His heart still fixed on an immortal ci-own. 
 
 His iieait a mirror was, of purest kind, 
 
 Wiiere the bright iinage of his Maker shined; 
 Reflecting faithful to the throne above. 
 The irrasJiaiit glories of the Mvstic Dove. 
 
TO THE REVEREND 
 
 DH. THOMAS BALGUY, 
 
 ARCHDEACON AND PItEBENDARY OF WINCHESTER, &o. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 I TRUST you will excuse the liberty I have taken of prefixing 
 your name to the following sheets; the latter part of which, I am 
 confident, will not be thought undeserving of your approbation; and 
 of the former part you will commend the intention at least, if not the 
 execution. In vindicating the character of Bishop Butler from the 
 aspersions thrown upon it since his death, I have but discharged a 
 common duty of humanity, which survivors owe to those who have 
 deserved well of mankind by their lives or writings, when they are 
 
 East the power of appearing in their own defence. And if what I 
 ave added, by way of opening the general design of the works of 
 this great Prelate, be of use in exciting the younger class of students 
 in our universities to read, and so to read as to understand, the two vol- 
 umes prepared and published by the Author himself; I flatter myself I 
 shall have done no inconsiderable service to morality and religion. 
 Your time and studies have been long successfully devoted to the sup- 
 port of the same great cause; and in what you have lately given to the 
 world, both as an author and an editor, you have largely contributed 
 to the defence of our common Christianity, and of what was esteemed 
 one, who was perfectly competent to judge, its best establishment, by 
 the Church of England. In the present publication I consider myself 
 as a fellow laborer with you in the same design, and tracing the path 
 you have trod before, but at great distance, and with unequal paces. 
 When, by his Majesty's goodness, I was raised to that station of 
 eminence in the church, to which you had been first named, and which, 
 on account of the infirmity of your health, you had desired to decline; 
 it was honor enough for me on such an occasion to have been thought 
 of next to you; And I know of no better rule by which to govern my 
 conduct, so as not to discredit the royal hand which conferred on me 
 so signal and unmerited a favor, than in cases of difliculty to put the 
 question to myself, how you would probably have acted in the same 
 situation. You see. Sir, I still look up to you, as I have been wont, 
 both as my superior and my example. That I may long reap the 
 benefit of your advice and friendship; and that such a measure of 
 health and strength may be continued to you, as may enable you to 
 pass the evening of your days with comfort, and enjoy the blessings 
 of the life jou love, is the cordial wish of, 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 Your very affectionate 
 
 and faithful Servant, 
 
 S. GLOITCESTER. 
 Dartmouth-Street.. Westminster, 12th Mar, 178(5 
 
PREFACE 
 
 BY THE EDITOR, 
 
 '•■ AVhen t consid* how light a matter very often subjects the best established charac 
 " ters to tlie suspicions of posterity, posterity often as malignant to virtue as the age 
 " that saw it was envious of its glory; and how i-eady a remote age is to catch at a low 
 " revived slander, which the times that brought it foitli saw despised and forgotten 
 " almos! in its birth; I cannot but think it a matter that deserves attention." — Letter 
 to the Editor of the Letters on the Spirit of Patriotism, &c. by Bishop WAnBUBTOK. 
 See his Works, vol. vii. p. 547, 
 
 THE charge to the Clergy of the Diocese of Durham, which is sub- 
 joined to the present volume, was printed and published in the year 
 1751, by the learned Prelate, whose name it bears; and, together with 
 the Sermons and Analogy of the same writer, both too well known 
 to need a more particular description, completes the collection of 
 his works. It has long been considered as a matter of curiosity, 
 on account of its scarceness; and it is equally curious on other 
 accounts, its subject, and the calumny to which it gave occasion, 
 of representing the Author as addicted to superstition, as inclined 
 to popery, and as dying in the communion of the church of Rome. 
 The improved edition of Biographia Britannica, now publishing 
 under the care of Dr. Kippis, having unavoidably brought this cal- 
 umny again into notice; it may not be unseasonable to offer a few 
 reflections in this place, by way of obviating any impressions that 
 may hence arise, to the disadvantage of so great a character as that 
 of the late Bishop Butler; referring those who desire a more partic- 
 ular account of his life, to the third volume of the same entertaining 
 work, printed in 1784. Art. Butler [Joseph.) 
 
 I. The principal design of the Bishop, in his Charge, is to exhort 
 his Clergy to " to do their part towards reviving a practical sense of 
 religion amongst the people committed to their care;" and, as one 
 way of effecting this, to " instruct them in the importance of exter- 
 nal religion,^^ or the usefulness of outward observances in promoting 
 inward piety. Now, from the compound nature of man, consisting 
 of two parts, the body and the mind, together with the influence 
 which these are found to have on one another, it follows, that the-ce- 
 iigious regards of such a creature ought to be so framed, as to beia 
 some way properly accommodated to botfi. A religion which is pur.ely 
 spiritual, stripped of every thing that may affect the senses, aod con- 
 sidered only as a divine philosophy of the mind, if it do not mount up 
 into enthusiasm, as has frequently been the case, oft^n sinks, after & 
 B 
 
10 PREFACE 
 
 few short fervors, into indiffererce: an abstracted invisible object, 
 like that which naturai religion oiTers, ceases to move or interest the 
 heart; aur' something further is wanting to bring it nearer, and ren- 
 der it more present to our view, than merely an intellectual contem- 
 plation. On the other hand when, in girder to remedy this incon- 
 venience, recourse is had to instituted forms and ritual injunctions; 
 there is always danger lest men be tempted to rest entirely on these, 
 and persuade ihemselves that a painful attention to such observances 
 will attone for the \/ant of genuine piety and virtue. Yet surely 
 there is a way of steering safely between these two extreioes; of so 
 consulting both the parts of our constitution, that the body and the 
 mind may concur in rendering our religious services acceptable to 
 God, and at the same time useful to ourselves. And what way cau 
 this be. but precisely that which is recommended in the charge; such 
 a cultivation of outward as well as inward religion, that from both 
 may result, what is the point chiefty to be labored after, and at all 
 events to be secured, a correspondent temper and behavior; or, in 
 other words, such an application of the forms of godliness as my be 
 subservient in promoting the power and spirit of it.'' No man who 
 believes the scriptures of the Old and New Testament, and under- 
 stands what he believes, but must know, that external religion is as 
 much enjoined, and constitutes as real a part of revelation, as that 
 which is internal. The many ceremonies in use among the Jfews, in 
 consequence of a divine command; the baptism of water, as an em- 
 blem of moral purity; the eating and drinking of bread and wine, as 
 symbols and representations of the body and blood of Christ, required 
 of Christians, are proofs of this. On comparing these two parts of 
 religiori together, one, it is immediately seen, is of much greater im- 
 pon.ance than the other; and. whenever they happen to interfere, is 
 always to be preferred: but does it follow from hence, that therefore 
 that other is of little or no importance, and, in- cases whei-e there is 
 no competition, may entirely be neglected? Or rather is not the legit- 
 imate conclusion directly the reverse, that nothing is to be looked 
 upon as of little importance, which is of any use at all in preserving 
 npon our minds a sense of the Divine Authority, which recals to our 
 remembrance the obligations we are under, and helps to keep us, as 
 the scripture expresses it, in the fear of the Lord all the day long?* 
 If, to adopt tlie instance mentioned in the charge, the sight of a 
 Church should remind a man of some sentiment of piety; if, from 
 the view of a material building dedicated to the service of God, he 
 should be led to regard himself, his own body, as a living temple of 
 the Holy Ghostyf and therefore no more than the other to be profaned 
 or desecrated by any thing that defileth or is impure; could it be 
 truly said of such a one tliat he was superstitious, or mistook the 
 means of religion for the end? If, to use another, and what has been 
 thought a more obnoxious instance, taken from the bishop's practice, 
 a Cross, erected in a place of public worship,^ should cause us to 
 reflect on him who died on across for our salvation, and on the ne- 
 cessity of our oivn dying to sin.§ and of crucifying the flesh with its 
 
 • Ptov. xxili, 17. 1 1 Cor. vi. 19. ^ See note [A] at the end of this Preface. 
 § Roux, vi, 11. 
 
BY THE EDITOR. 11 
 
 affections and lusts;* would any worse consequences follow from 
 such sentiments so excited, than if the same sentiments had been 
 excited by the view of a picture, of the crucifixion suppose, such as 
 is commonly placed, and with this very design, in foreign churches, 
 and indeed in many of our own? Both the instances here adduced, 
 it is very possible, may be far from being approved, even by those 
 who are under the most sincere convictions of the importance of true 
 religion; and it is easy to conceive how open to scotn and censure 
 they must be from others, who think they have a talent for ridicule, 
 and have accustomed themselves to regard all pretensions to piety 
 as hypocritical or superstitious. But wisdom is justified of her 
 £hildren.^ Religion is what it is, whether men will hear, or wheth- 
 er they will forbear;\ and whatever in the smallest degree pro- 
 motes its interests, and assists us in performirg its command^-, 
 whether that assistance be derived from the medium of the body or 
 the mind, ought to be esteemed of great weight, and deserving of 
 our most serions attention. 
 
 However, be the danger of superstition what it may, no one was 
 more sensible of that danger, or more earnest in maintaining that 
 external acts of themselves are nothing, and that moral holiness, a» 
 distinguished from bodily observances of every kind, is that which 
 constitutes the essence of religion, than Bishop Butler. Not only 
 the charge itself, the whole intention of which is plainly nothing 
 more than to enforce the necessity of practical religion, tiie reality 
 as well as form, is a tiemonstration of this; but many passages be- 
 sides, to the same purpose, selected from his other writings. Take 
 the two following as specimens. In his Analogy he observes thus: 
 " 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 be- 
 tween them, the nature of the thing abundantly sliews 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 noth- 
 ing can render us acceptable of God, without moral virtue,"§ And 
 to the same purpose in his Sermon, preached before the Society for 
 the Propagation of the Gospel, in February, 1738-9. "Indeed 
 amongst creatures naturally formed for religion, yet so much under 
 the power of imagination as men are, superstition is an evil, which 
 can never be out of sight. But even against this, true religion is a 
 great security ,'and the only one. True religion takes up tliat place in 
 the mind which superstition would usurp, and so leaves little room for 
 it; and likewise lays us under the strongest obligations to oppose it. ' 
 On the contrary, the danger of superstition cannot hut be increased 
 by the prevalence of irreligion; and by its general prevalence, the 
 evil will be unavoidable. For the common people*, wanting a reli- 
 gion, will of course take up with almost any superstition which is 
 thrown in their way; and, in process of time, amidst the infinite 
 vicissitudes of the political world, the leaders of parties will cer- 
 tainly be able to serve themselves of that^ superstition, whatever 
 
 » Gi*I. V. 24, t Matth. xi. 19, + Ezek. ii. 5. § Analogy Part ii. Chap. 1, 
 
12 PREFACE 
 
 it be, which is getting groundj and will not fail to carry it to the 
 Vtmost length their occasions require. The general nature of the 
 thing shews this; and history and fact confirm it. It is therefore 
 wonderful, those people who seem to think there is but one evil in 
 life, that of superstition, should not see that atheism and profaneness 
 must be the introduction of it,"* 
 
 He who can think and write in such a manner, can never be said 
 to mistake the nature of real religion: and he, who, after such proofs 
 to the contrary, can persist in asserting of so discreet and learned a 
 person, that he was addicted to superstition, must himself be much a 
 stranger both to truth and charity. 
 
 And here it may be worth our while to observe, that the same ex- 
 <fellent prelate, who by one set of men was suspected of superstition, 
 on account of his charge, has by another been represented as leaning 
 to the opposite extreme of enthusiasm, on account of his two discour- 
 ses On the love of God. But both opinions are equally without 
 foundation. He was neither superstitious nor an enthusiast. His 
 mind was much too strong, anil his habits of thinking and reason- 
 ing much too strict and severe, to sutler him to descend to the weak- 
 nesses of either character. His piety was at once fervent and ra- 
 tional. When, impressed with a generous concern for the declining 
 cause of religion, he labored to revive its dying interests, nothing he 
 judged would be more effectual to that end, among creatures so much 
 engaged with bodily things, and so apt to be affected with whatever 
 strongly solicits the senses as men are, than a religion of such a 
 .frame as should in its exercise require the joint exertions of the body 
 and the mind. On the other hand, when penetrated with the dignity 
 ^nd importance of the jir-st and great co7nmandment,-\ Love to God, 
 Tie set himself to inquire, what those movements of the heart are, 
 which'are due to him, the Author and Cause of e-i things; he found, 
 in the coolest way of consideration, that God is the natural object of 
 the same affections of gratitude, reverence, fear-, desire of approba- 
 tion., trust, and dependence; the same affections in kind, though 
 doubtless in a very disproportionate degree, which any one would 
 feel from contemplating a perfect character in a creature, in which 
 goodness with wisdom and power are supposed to be the predomi- 
 nant qualities, with the further circumstance that tliis creature was 
 also his governor and friend. This subject is manifestly a real one; 
 there is nothing in it fanciful or unreasonable. This way of being 
 affected towards God is piety, in the strictest sense; ibis is religion, 
 considered as a habit of mind: a religion, suited to the nature and 
 condition of man \ 
 
 II. Prom superstition to popery the transition is easy. No won- 
 der then, that, in the progress of detraction, the simple imputation 
 of the former of these, with which the attack on the character of 
 our author was opened, should be followed by the more aggravated 
 imputation of the latter. Nothing, I think, can fairly be gathered 
 in support of such a suggestion from the charge, in which popery is 
 barely mentioned, and occasionally only, and in a sentence or two; 
 
 » Serm. XVI. p, .339, HO, Ed. Wi^ 1749, t Matth xxii, 38. ^ See note [B], 
 at the end of this Pre'friPe. 
 
BY THE EDITOR. IS 
 
 yet even there, it should be remarked, the bishop takes care to de- 
 scribe the peculiar observances required by it, ''some as in themselves 
 wrong and superstitious, and others of them as being made subser- 
 vient to the purposes of superstition." With respect to his other 
 writings, any one at all conversant with them needs not to be told, 
 that the matters treated of both in his Sermons and his Analogy did, 
 none of them, directly lead him to consider, and much less to com- 
 bat, the opinions, whether relating to fai'h or worship, which are pe- 
 culiar to the church «if Rome: it mighi tr erefore have happened, yet 
 without any just conclusion arising from thence, of being himself in- 
 clined to favor those opinions, that he had never mentioned, so much 
 as incidentally, the subject of popery at all But fortunately for the 
 reputation of the bishop, and to the eternal disgrace of his calum- 
 niators, even this poor resource is wanting to support their malevo^ 
 lence. In his sermon at St. Bride's, before the Lord Mayor, in. 
 1740, after having said that '-oor laws and whole constitution go 
 more upon supposition of an equality amongst mankind, than the 
 constitution and laws of other countries;'' he goes on to observe, 
 that "this plainly requires, that more particular regard should be had 
 to the education of the lower people here, than in places where they 
 are born slaves of power, and to be made slaves of superstition:"* 
 meaning evidently in this place by the general term superstition, 
 the particular errors of the Romanists This is something; but we 
 have a still plainer indication what his sentiments concerning po- 
 pery really were, from another of his Additional Sermons, I mean 
 that before the House of Lords, on June the 11th, 1747, the anniver- 
 sary of his late Majesty's accession. ' The passage alluded to is as 
 follows, and my readers will not be displeased that I give it them at 
 length. "The value of our religious establishment ought to be very 
 much heightened in our esteem, by considering what it is a security 
 from ; I mean that great corruption of Christianity, popery, which 
 is ever hard at work to bring us again under its yoke. Whoever 
 will consider the popish claims to the disposal of the whole earth, as 
 of divine right, to diifpense with the most sacred engagements, the 
 claims to supreme absolute authority in religion; in short, the gene- 
 ral claims which the Canonists express by the words, pleniUide of* 
 power — whoever, I say, will consider popery as it is professed at 
 Rome, may see, that it is manifest, open usurpation of all human and 
 divine authority. But even in those Roman-catholic countries where 
 these monstrous claims are not admitted;,and the civil power, does, 
 in many respects, restrain the papal; yet persecution is professed, as 
 it is absolutely enjoined by what is acknowledged to be their highest 
 authority, a general council, so called, with the pope at the head of 
 it; and is practised in all of them, I think, without exception, where 
 it can be done safely. Thus they go on to substitute force instead 
 of argument, and external profession made by force instead of rea- 
 sonable conviction. And thus corruptions of the grossest sort have 
 been in vogue, for many generations, in many parts of Christendom; 
 and are so still, even where popery obtains in its least absurd form: 
 and their antiquity and wide extent are insisted upon as proofs of 
 ^heir truth; a iiind of proof which at best can only be presumptive, 
 
 * Serm, XVIL p, %7. 
 
14 PREFACE 
 
 but which i(|ses all its little weight, in proportion as the long and 
 iarge prevalence of such corruptions have been obtained by force."* 
 In another port of the same sermon, wher& he is again speaking of 
 our ecclesiastical constitution, he reminds his audience that it is to 
 be valued, ^ not because it leaves us at liberty to have as little reli- 
 gion as we please, without being accountable to human judicatories; 
 but because it exhibits to our viev/, and enforces upon our conscien- 
 ces, genuine Christianity, free from the superstitions with which it is 
 defiled in other countries;" which superstions, he observes, "natu- 
 rally tend to abate its*force."t The date of this sermon should here 
 be attended to. It was preached in June 1747; that is, four years 
 before the delivery and publication of the charge, which was in the 
 year 1751; and exactly five years before the author died, which was 
 in June, 1752. We have then, in the passages now laid before the 
 reader, a clear and unequivocal proof, brought down to within a few 
 years of Bishop Butler's death, that popery was held by him in the 
 utmost abhorrence, and that he regarded it in no other light than as 
 th.t great corruption of Christianity, and a manifest, open usurpa- 
 Hon of all human and divine authority. The argument is decisive; 
 nor will any thing be of force to invalidate it, unless from some after- 
 act during the short remainder of the bishop's life, besides that of de- 
 livering and printing his Charge, (which, after what I have said, here, 
 and in the Notes added to this Preface and to the Charge, I must 
 have leave to consider as affording no evidence at all of his inclina- 
 tion to papistical doctrines or ceremonies) the contrary shall incon- 
 trovertibly appear. 
 
 III. One such after-act, hbwever, has been alleged, which would 
 effectually demolish all that we have urged in behalf of our Prelate, 
 were it true, as is pretended, that he died in the communion of the 
 church of Rome. Had a story of this sort been invented and propa- 
 gated by Papists, the wonder might have been less : 
 
 Hoc Ittiacus velit, & majno mercentur Atridse. 
 
 But to the reproach of protestantism, the fabrication of this calumny, 
 for such we shall find it, originated from among ourselves. It is pretty 
 remarkable, that a circumstance so extraordinary should never have 
 been divulged till the year 1767, fifteen years after the Bishop's de- 
 cease. At that time Dr. Thomas Seckek was Archbishop of Can- 
 terbury; who of all others was the most likely to know the truth or 
 falshood of the fact asserted, having been educated with our au- 
 thor in his early youth, and having lived in a constant habit of inti- 
 macy with him to the very time of his death. The good Archbish- 
 op was not silent on this occasion: with a virtuous indignation he 
 stood forth to protect the posthumous character of his friend; and in 
 a public newspaper, under the signature of Jfisopseudes, called up- 
 on his accuser to support what he had advanced, by whatever proofs 
 he could. No proof, however, nor any thing like a proof, appeared in 
 reply; and every man of sense and candor at that time was perfectly 
 convinced the aijsertion was entirely groundless! As a further con- 
 firmation of the rectitude of this judgment, it may not be amiss to 
 
 •Serm XX, i>, U0—ii2. f P- *^'^- * See note [C], at i^ie end of UusPre- 
 f»ce. 
 
BY THE EDITOR. 15 
 
 mention, there is yet in existence a strong presuviptive argument at 
 least in its favor, drawn from the testimony of those who attended 
 our autiior in the sickness of which he died. The last days of this 
 excellent Prelate were passed at Bath; Dr. Nathaitiel Forster, 
 his chaplain, being continually with him; and for one (lay, and at the 
 very end of his illness, Dr. Martin BE^^^oN also, thfe then Bishop 
 of Glougester, who shortened his own life in his pioas haste to vis- 
 it his dying friend. Both these persons constantly vrote letters to 
 Dr. Secker, then Bishop of Oxford, containing accolints of Bishop 
 Butler's declining health, and of the symptoms and progress of his 
 disorder, which, as was. conjectured, soon terminated in his death. 
 These letters, which are still preserved in the Lamkth library,* I 
 have read; and not the slenderest argument can be collected from 
 them in justification of the ridiculous slander we are h^re considering. 
 If at that awful season the Bishop was not known to lave expressed 
 any opinion, tending to shew his dislike to popery; neither was he 
 known to have said any thing that could at all be construed in appro- 
 bation of it: and the natural presumption is, that whatever senti- 
 ments he had formerly entertained concerning that corrupt system 
 of religion, he continued to entertain them to the la^t. The truth 
 is, that neither the word nor the idea of popery seemi once to have 
 occurred either to the Bishop himself, or to those wh» watched his 
 parting moments: their thoughts were otherwise enga^d. His dis- 
 order had reduced him to such debility, as to render hiii incapable of 
 speaking much or long on any subject; the few bright intervals that 
 occurred were passed in a state of the utmost tranquaity and com- 
 posure; and in tJiat composure he expired. Mark th4 perfect man, 
 and behold the upright; for the end of that man is pmce.-^ — Let me 
 die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be li\e hisl^ 
 
 Out of pure respect for the virtues of a man whom Ihad never the 
 happinessof knowing, or even of seeing, but from whkse writings I 
 have received the greatest benefit and illumination, antt which I have 
 reason to be thankful toProvidence for having early thrckn in my way; 
 I have adventured, in what I have now oftered to the public, to step 
 forth in his defence, and to vindicate his honest fame fiom the attacks 
 of those,who, with the vain hope of bringing down superior characters 
 to theipown level, are for ever at work in detracting torn their just 
 praise. For the literary reputation of Bishop Butlei% it stands too 
 high in the opinion of the world, to incur the danger of any diminu- 
 tion; but this in truth is the least of his excellencies. He was more 
 than a good writer, he was a good man; and, what i&an addition 
 even to this eulogy, he was a sincere Christian. His whole study 
 was directed to the knowledge and practice of sound morality and 
 true religion: these he adorned by his life, and has recommended to 
 future ages in his writings; in which, if my judgment be of any avail, 
 he has done essential service to both; as much, perhaps, as any sin- 
 gle person, since the extraordinary gifts of the word of wisdom and 
 the word of knowledge^ have been withdrawn. 
 
 * See note [D], at the cud of this Pt-eface. tPs xxxvii ST. tXumh. xxH«. 
 10. § I. Cor xii. 8, ' 
 
16 PREFACE 
 
 IN what follows, I propose to give a short account of the Bishop's 
 Moral and Religious Systems, as these are collected from his 
 works. 
 
 I. His way of treating the subject of morals is to be eathered 
 from the volume ot his Sermons, and particularly from the three 
 first, and from the preface to that volume. 
 
 "There is, "as our author with singular sagacity has observed, "a 
 much more exact correspondence between the natural and moral 
 world, than w? are apt to take notice of."* The inward frame of 
 roan answers to his outward condition. The several propensities, 
 passions, and iftections, implanted in our hearts by the Author of na- 
 ture, are in a peculiar manner adapted to the circumstances of life in 
 which he hath placed us. This general observation, properly pur- 
 sued, leads to several important conclusions. The original internal 
 constitution ol man, compared with his external condition, enables 
 us to discern what course of action and behavior that constitution 
 leads to, what is our duty respecting that condition, and furnishes 
 us besides witi the most powerful arguments to the practice of it. 
 
 What the isward frame and constitution of man is, is a question 
 of fact, to be determined as other facts are, from experience, from 
 our internal feelings and external senses, and from the testimony of 
 others. Whether human nature, and the circumstances in which it 
 is placed, mi^ht not have been ordered otherwise, is foreign to our 
 inquiry, and a one of our concern: our province is. taking both of 
 these as thej are, and viewing the connexion between them, from 
 that connexion to discover, if we can, what course of action is fitted 
 to that naturi and those circumstances. From contemplating the 
 bodily senses, and the organs or instruments adapted to them, we 
 learn that the eye was given to see with, the ear to hear with. In 
 like manner, rom considering our inward perceptions and the final 
 causes of then, we collect that the feeling of shame for instance, v/as 
 given to prev<nt the doing of things shameful; compassion, to carry 
 us to releive others in distress; anger, to resist sudden violence offer- 
 ed to ourselves. If, continuing our inquiries in this way, it should at 
 length appear that the whole nature of man, leads him to and is fit- 
 ted for that particular course of behavior, which we usually distin- 
 guish by the tame of virtue; we are authorized to conclude, tjiat vir- 
 tue is the law we are born under, that it was so intended by the Au- 
 thor of our being; and we are bound by the most intimate of all ob- 
 ligations, a rtgard to our own highest interest and happiness, to con- 
 form to it in all situations and events. 
 
 Human nature is not simple and uniform, but made up of several 
 parts; and we can have no just idea of it as a system or constitution, 
 unless we take into our view the respects and relations • which these 
 parts have to each other. As the body is not one member, but many, 
 so our inward structure consists of various instincts, appetites and 
 propensions. Thus far there is no difference between human crea- 
 tures and brutes. But besides these common passions and affec- 
 tions, there is another principle, peculiar to mankind, that of con- 
 science, moral sense, reflection, call it what you please, by which 
 they are enabled to review their whole conduct^, t<» approve of some 
 
 •SerHhVI. 
 
BY THE EDITOR. 1? 
 
 actions in themselves, and to disapprove of others. That this prin- 
 ciple will of course have some influence on our behavior, at least at 
 times, will hardly be disputed: but the particular influence which it 
 ought to have, the precise degree of power in the regulating of our 
 internal frame that is assigned it by him who placed it there, is a 
 point of the utmost consequence in itself, and on the determination 
 of which the very hinge of our Author's moral system turns. If the 
 faculty here spoken of be indeed, what it is asserted toba, in nature 
 and kind superior to every other passion and affection, if it be giv- 
 en, not merely that it may exert its force occasionally, or as our 
 present humor or fancy may dispose us, but that it may at all times 
 exercise an uncontrollable authority and government over all the 
 restj it will then follow, that in order to complete the idea of human 
 nature, as a system, we must not only take in each particular bias, 
 propension, instinct, which are seen to belong to it, but we must add, 
 besides the principle of conscience, together with the subjection that 
 is due to it from all the other appetites and passions; just as the idea 
 of a civil constitution is formed, not barely from enumerating the 
 several members and ranks of which it is composed, but from these 
 considered as acting in various degrees of subordination to each oth- 
 er, and all under the direction of the same supreme authority, wheth- 
 er that authority be vested in one person or more. 
 
 The view here given of the internal constitution of man, and of 
 the supremacy of conscience, agreeably to the conceptions of Bish- 
 op Butler, enables us to comprehend the force of that expression, 
 common to him and the ancient moralists, that virtue consists in fol- 
 lowing nature. The meaning cannot be, that it consists in acting 
 agreeably to that propensity of our nature which happens to be the 
 strongest; or which propels us towards certain objects, without any 
 regard to the methods by which they are to be obtained; but the 
 meaning must be, that virtue consists in the due regulation and sub- 
 jection of all the other appetites and aft'ections to the superior facul- 
 ty of conscience ; from a conformity to which alone our actions are 
 properly natural, or correspondent to the nature, to the whole nature 
 of such an age«t as man. From hence to it appears, that the Au- 
 thor of our frame is by no means indifferent to virtue and vice, or has 
 left us at liberty to act at random, as humor or appetite may prompt 
 us; but that every man has the rule of right within him; a rule at- 
 tended in the very notion of it with authority, and such as has the 
 force of a direction and a command from him, who made us what we 
 are, what course of behavior is suited to our nature, and which he 
 expects that we should follow. This moral faculty implies also a 
 pre-sentiraent and apprehension, that the judgment which it passes 
 on our actions, considered as of good or ill desert, will hereafter be 
 confirmed by the unerring judgment of God ; when virtue and hap- 
 piness, vice and misery, whose ideas are now so closely connected, 
 shall be indissolubly united, and the divine government be found to 
 correspond in the most exact proportion to the nature he has given 
 us. Lastly, this just prerogative or supremacy of conscience it is, 
 ■which Mr. Pope has described in his Universal Prayer, though per- 
 haps he may have expressed it rather too strongly, where he says, 
 
18 PREFACE 
 
 «' What conscience dictates to be done, • ' 
 
 ♦' Or warns me not to do, 
 *' This tench me mohf. than Hell to shun, 
 
 " That MOKE THAN Heaven pursue." 
 
 Tl.e reader will observe, that this way of treating the subject of 
 morals by an ippe^'l to facts does not at all interfere with that other 
 way, adopted by Dr Samuel Clarice j and others, which begins with 
 inquiring into the relations and jitnesses of thingSf but rather illus- 
 trates and connrins it. That there are essential differences in the 
 qualities of human actions, established by nature, and that this natu- 
 ral difference of things, prior to and independent of all will, creates 
 a natural fitnessin the agent to act agreeably to it, seems as little to 
 be denied, as that there is a moral difference before explained, from 
 which we approve and feel a pleasure in what is right, and conceive 
 a distaste to what is wrong. Still, however, when we are endeavor- 
 ing to establish either this moral or that natural difference, it ought 
 never to be forgotten, or rather it will require to be distinctly shewn, 
 that both of these, when traced up to their source, suppose an intelli- 
 gent Autho*- of nature and moral Ruler of the world; who originally 
 appointed these differences, and by such an appointment has signified 
 his WILL that we should conform to them, as the only effectual meth- 
 od of securing our HAPPINESS on the whole under his government.* 
 And of this consideration our Prelate himself was not unmindful; 
 as ma}- be collected from many expressions in different parts of his 
 writings, and particularly from the following passages in his Xlth Ser- 
 mon. "It may be allowed, without any prejudice to the cause of vir- 
 tue and religion, that our ideas of happiness and misery are, of all 
 our ideas, the nearest and most important to us; that they will, nay, 
 if you please, that they ought to prevail over those of order, and 
 beauty, and harmony, and proportion, if there should ever be, as 
 it is impossible there ever should be, any inconsistence between 
 them." And a^ain, "Though virtue or moral rectitude does indeed 
 consist in affection to and pursuit of what is right and good, as such;, 
 yet, when we sit down in a cool hour, we can neither justify to our- 
 selvs this or any other pursuit, till we are convinced that it will be 
 for our happiness, or at least not contrary to it."t 
 
 Besides the general system of morality opened above, our Author 
 in his Volume of Sermons has stated with accuracy the difference 
 between self-love and benevolence; in opposition to those, who on 
 tho one hand make the whole of virtue to consist in benevolence, J 
 and to those, who on the other assert that every particular affection 
 and action is resolvable into self-love. In combating these opinions, 
 he has shewn, I think unanswerably, that there are the same kind of 
 indications in human nature that we were made to promote the hap- 
 piness of others, as that we were made to promote our own: that it is 
 no just objection to this, that we have dispositions to do evil to 
 others as well as ^ood to ourselves, to our own most important interests 
 even in this life, for the sake of gratifying a present passion: that 
 the thing to be lamented is, not that men have too great a regard 
 to their own real^good, but that they have not enough: that be- 
 
 • See rote [E], at the end of this Preface. f Serm. XL p. 229. 
 
 i Sec the 2d Dissertation, Ou Uie Nature of Virtue, at the ead of the Analogy. 
 
BY THE EDITOR. 19 
 
 nevolence is not more at variance with or unfriendly to self-love, 
 than any other particular affection is; and that, by consulting the hap- 
 piness of others, a man is so far from lessening his own, that the very 
 endeavor to do so, though he should fail in the accomplishment, is a 
 source of the highest satisfaction and peace of mind.* He has also, in 
 passing, animadverted on the philosopher of Malmsbuary, who in his 
 book Of Human Mature has advanced, as discoveries in moral sci- 
 ence, that benevolence is only the love of power, and compassion 
 the fear of future calamity to ourselves- And this our Author 
 has done, not so much with the design of exposing the false rea- 
 soning of Mr. Hobhes, but because on so perverse an account of hu- 
 man nature he has raised a system, subversive of all justice and hon- 
 esty.t 
 
 II. The Religious System of Bishop Botler is chiefly to be col- 
 lected from the treatise, entitled The Analogy of Religion, JSTatiiral 
 and Revealed, to the Constitution and Course of JSTature. 
 
 *dll things are double one against another, and God hath made noth' 
 ing imperfect.^ On this single observation of the Son of Sirach, 
 the whole fabric of our Prelate's defence of religion, in his Analogy, 
 is raised. Instead of indulging to idle speculations, how the world 
 might possibly have been better than it is; or, forgetful of the differ- 
 ence between hypothesis and fact, attempting to explain the divine 
 economy with respect to intelligent creatures from pre-conceived no- 
 tions of his own; he first inquires what the constitution of nature, 
 as made known to us in the way of experiment, actually is; and 
 from this, now seen and acknowledged, he endeavors to form a judg- 
 ment of that larger constitution, which religion discovers to us. If 
 the dispensation of Trovidence we are now under, considered as in- 
 habitants of this world; and having a temporal interest to secure in 
 it, be found, on examination, to be analogous to, and of a piece with 
 that further dispensation, which relates to us as designed for another 
 world, in which we have an eternal interest, depending on our be- 
 havior here; if both may be traced up to the same general laws, and ap- 
 pear to be carried on according to the same plan of administration; the 
 fair presumption is, that both proceed from one and the same Author. 
 And if the principal parts objected to in this latter dispensation be 
 similar to, and of the same kind with what we certainly experience 
 under the former, the objections, being clearly inconclusive in one 
 case, because contradicted by plain fact, must, in all reason, be al- 
 lowed to be inconclusive also in the other. 
 
 This way of arguing from what is acknowledged to what is dispu- 
 ted, from things known to other things that resemble them; from that 
 part of the divine establishment which is exposed to our view, to 
 that more important one which lies beyond it, is on all hands confes- 
 sed to be just. Bj this method Sir Isaac Newton has unfolded the 
 System of Nature; by the same method Bishop Butler has ex- 
 plained the System of Grace, and thus, to use the words of a writer, 
 whom I quote with pleasure, " has formed and concluded a happj 
 alliance between faith and philosophy."§ 
 
 * See Sermons t. and XL and the Preface to the Volume of Sermons, 
 t See the Notes to Sermon I. and V. ^ Ecclus. xlii. 24. 
 
 § Mr. Mainwaring's Dissertation, prefixed to this Volume of Sermons. 
 
sa PREFACE 
 
 And although the argument from analogy be allowed to be imper- 
 fect, and by no means sufficient to solve all difficulties respecting the 
 government of God, and the designs of his Providence with regard to 
 mankind, (a degree of knowledge, which we are not furnished with 
 faculties for attaining, at least in the present state) yet surely it 
 is of importance to learn from it, that the natural and moral world 
 are intimately connected, and parts Of one stupendous whole or sys- 
 tem; and that the chief objections, which are brought against reli- 
 gion, may be urged with equal force against the constitution and 
 course of nature, where they are certainly falst* in fact. And this 
 information we may derive from the work before us; the proper de- 
 sign of which, it may be of use to observe, is not to prove the truth 
 of religion either natural or revealed, but to confirm that proof, al- 
 ready known, by considerations from analogy. 
 
 After this account of the metiiod of reasoning employed by our 
 Author, let us now advert to his manner of applying it, first to the 
 subject of Natural Religion, and secondly that of Revealed. 
 
 1. The foundation of all our hopes and fears is a future life; and 
 with this the treatise begins. Neither the reason of the thing, nor 
 the analogy of nature, according to Bishop Butlek, give ground for 
 imagining, that the unknown event, death, will be our destruction. 
 The states in which we have formerly existed, in the womb and in 
 infancy, are not more different from each other than f' am that of ma- 
 ture age in which we now exist: therefore that we shall continue to 
 exist hereafter, in a state as different from the present as the present 
 is from those through which we have passed already, is a presump- 
 tion favored by the analogy of nature. All that we know from rea- 
 son concerning death, is the effects it has upon animal bodies: and 
 the frequent instances among men of the intellectual powers contin- 
 uing in high health and vigor, at the very time when a mortal dis- 
 ease is on the point of putting an end to all the powers of sensation, 
 induce us to hope that it may have no effect at all on the human soul, 
 not even so much as to suspend the exercise of its faculties; though 
 if it have, the suspension of a power by no means implies its extinc- 
 tion, as sleep or a swoon may convince us.* 
 
 The probability of a future state once granted, an important ques- 
 tion arises, how best to secure our interest in that state. We find 
 from what passes daily before us, that the constitution of nature ad- 
 mits of misery as well as happiness; that both of these are the con- 
 sequences of our own actions; and these consequences we are ena- 
 bled to foresee. Therefore, that our happiness or misery in a future 
 world may depend on oijr own actions also, and that rewards or 
 punishments hereafter may follow our good or ill behavior here, is but 
 an appointment of the same sort with what we experience under the 
 the divine government, according to the regular course of nature.! 
 
 This supposition is confirmed from another circumstance, that the 
 natural government of God, under which we now live, is also moral; 
 in which rewards and punishments are the consequences of actions, 
 considered as virtuous and vicious. Not that every man is rewarded 
 nv punished here in exact proportion to his desert; for the essential 
 
 • Part I Chap. 1. t Pwt f. Chap 2, 
 
BY THE EDITOR. 21 
 
 tendencies of virtue and vice to produce happiness and the contrary 
 are often hindered from taking effect from accidental causes. How- 
 ever, there are plainly the rudiments and beginnings of a righteous 
 administration to be discerned in the constitution of nature; from 
 whence we are led to expect, that these accidental hindrances will 
 one day be removed, and the rule of distributive justice obtain com- 
 pletely in a more perfect state* 
 
 The moral government of God, thus established, implies in the 
 notion of it some sort of trial, or a moral possibility of acting wrong 
 as well as right, in those who are the subjects of it. And the doc- 
 trine of religion, that the present life is in fact a state of probation 
 for a future one, is rendered credible, from its being analogous 
 throughout to the general conduct of Providence towards us with res- 
 pect to this world; in which prudence is necessary to secure our tem- 
 poral interest, just as we are taught that virtue is necessary to secure 
 our eternal interest; and both are trusted to ourselves.f 
 
 But the present life is not merely a state of probation, implying in 
 it difficulties and danger; it is also a state of discipline and improve- 
 ment; and that both in our temporal and religious capacity. Thus 
 childhood is a state of discipline for youth; youth for manhood, and 
 that for old age. Strength of body, and maturity of understanding, 
 are acquired by degrees; and neither of them without continual exer- 
 cise and attention on our part, not only in the beginning of life, but 
 through the whole course of it. So again with respect to our reli- 
 gious concerns, the present world is fitted to be, and to good men is 
 in event, a state of discipline and improvement for a future one. 
 The several passions and propensions, implanted in our hearts, incline 
 us, in a multitude of instances, to forbidden pleasures: this inward 
 infirmity is increased by various snares and temptations, perpetually 
 occurring from without. Hence arises the necessity of recollection 
 and self-government, of withstanding the calls of appetite, and form- 
 ing our minds to habits of piety and virtue; habits, of which we are 
 capable, and which to creatures in a state of moral imperfection, and 
 fallen from their original integrity, must be of the greatest use, as an 
 additional security, over and above the principle of conscience, from 
 the dangers to which we are exposed. | 
 
 Nor is the credibility here given, by the analogy of nature to the 
 general doctrine of religion, destroyed or weakened by any notions 
 concerning necessity. Of itself it is a mere word, the sign of an 
 abstract idea; and as much requires an agent, that is, a necessary 
 agent, in order to effect any thing, as freedom requires a free agent. 
 Admitting it to be speculatively true, if considered as influencing 
 practice, it is the same as false; for it is matter of experience, that, 
 with regard to ©ur present interest, and as inhabitants of this world, 
 we are treated as if we were free; and therefore the analogy of nature 
 leads us to conclude, that, with regard to our future interest, and as 
 designed for another world, we shall be treated as free also. Noj* 
 does the opinion of necessity, supposing it possible, at all affect either 
 the general proof of religion, or its external evidence.§ 
 
 •Chap. 3. t Chap. 4. + Chap. 5. § Chap. 6. 
 
22 PREFACE 
 
 Still objections may be made against the wisdom and goodness of 
 the divine government, to which analogy, which can only shew the 
 truth or credibility of facts, atFords no answer. Yet even here anal- 
 ogy is of use, if it suggest that the divine government is a scheme or 
 system, and not a number of unconnected acts, and that this system 
 is also above our comprehension. Now the government of the nat- 
 ural world appears to be a system of this kind; with parts, related to 
 each other, and together composing a whole; in which system ends 
 are brought about by the use of means, many of which means. before% 
 experience, would have been suspected to have had a quite contrary 
 tendency; which is carried on by general laws, similar causes uni- 
 formly producing similar eflfects; the utility of which general laws, 
 and the inconveniences which would probably arise from the occa- 
 sional or even secret suspension of them, we are in some sort enabled 
 to discern;* but of the whole we are incompetent judges, because of 
 the small part which comes within our view. Reasoning then from 
 what we know, it is highly credible, that the government of the moral 
 world is a system also, carried on by general laws, and in which 
 ends are accomplished by th« intervention of means ; and that both 
 constitutions, the natural and the moral, are so connected, as to 
 form together but one scheme. But of this scheme, as of that of the 
 natural world taken alone, we are not qualified to judge, on account 
 of the mutual respect of the several parts, to each other and to the 
 whole, and our own incapacity to survey the whole, or, with accuracy, 
 any single part. All objections therefore to the wisdom and good- 
 ness of the divine government may be founded merely on our igno- 
 rance;! and to such objections our ignorance is the proper and a 
 satisfactory answer. | 
 
 2. The chief difficulties concerning Natural Religion being now 
 removed, our author proceeds, in the next place, to that which is 
 revealed; and as an introduction to an inquiry into the credibility of 
 Christianity, begins with the consideration of its importance. 
 
 The importance of Christianity appears in two respects. First, in 
 its being a republication of Natural Religion, in its native simplicity, 
 with authority, and with circumstances of advantage; ascertaining, 
 in many instances of moment, what before was only probable, and 
 particularly confirming the doctrine of a future state of rewards and 
 punishments.^ Secondly, as revealing a new dispensation of Provi- 
 dence, originating from the pure love and mercy of God, and con- 
 ducted by the mediation of his Son, and the guidance of his Spirit, 
 for the recovery and salvation of mankind, represented in a state of 
 apostacy and ruin. This account of Christianity being admitted to 
 be just, and the distinct offices of these three Divine Persons being 
 once discovered to us, we are as much obliged in point of duty to 
 acknowledge the relations we stand in to the Son and Holy Ghost, 
 as our Mediator and Sanctifier, as we are obliged in point of duty to 
 acknowledge the relation we stand in to God the Father; although 
 the two former of these relations be learnt from revelation only, and 
 
 • See a Treatise on Divine Benevolence, by Dr. Thomas Balguy, Part II. 
 t See note [F] at the end of thjs Preface. i Chap. 7. § See note [G] at the 
 ead of this Preface. 
 
BY THE EDITOR. 2S 
 
 in the last we are instructed by the light of nature; the obligation in 
 either case arising from the offices themselves, and not at all depend- 
 ing on the manner in which they are made known to us.* 
 
 The presumptions against revelation in general are, that it is not 
 discoverable by reason, that it is unlike to what is so discoverad, and 
 that it was introduced and supported by miracles. But in a scheme 
 so large as that of the universe, unbounded in extent, and everlasting 
 in duration, there must of necessity be numberless circumstances 
 which are beyond the reach of our faculties to discern, and which can 
 only be known by divine illumination. And both in the natural and 
 moral government of the world, under which w& live, we find many 
 things unlike one to another, and therefore ought not to wonder if 
 the same unlikeness obtain between things visible and invisible; 
 although it be far from true, that revealed religion is entirely unlike 
 the constitution of nature, as analogy may teach us. Nor is there 
 any thing incredible in revelation, considered as miraculous; whether 
 miracles be supposed to have been performed at the beginning of the 
 world, or after a course of nature has been established. Not at the 
 beginning of the world; for then there was either no course of nature 
 at all, or a power must have been exerted totally different from what 
 that course is at present. All men and animals cannot have been 
 born, as they are now ; but a pair of each sort must have been pro- 
 duced at first, in a way altogether unlike to that in which they have 
 been since produced; unless we affirm, that men and animals have 
 existed from eternity in an endless succession: one miracle there- 
 fore at least there must have been, at the beginning of the world, or 
 at the time of man's creation. Not after the settlement of a course 
 of nature, on account of miracles being contrary to that course, or, 
 in other words, contrary to experience: for in order to know whether 
 miracles, worked in attestation of a divine religion, be contrary to 
 experience or not, we ought to be acquainted with other cases similar 
 or parallel to those, in which miracles are alledged to have been 
 wrought. But where shall we find sucb similar or parallel cases? 
 The world which we inhabit affords none. We know of no extraor- 
 dinary revelations from God to man, but those recorded in the Old 
 and New Testament; all of which were established by miracles. It 
 cannot therefore be said that miracle* are incredible, because con- 
 trary to experience, when all the experience we have is in favor of 
 miracles, and on the side of religion. f Besides, in reasoning con- 
 cerning miracles, they ought not to be compared with common nat- 
 ural events, but with uncommon appearances, such as comets, mag- 
 netism, electricity; which to one acquainted only with the usual 
 phenomena of nature, and the common powers of matter, must, before 
 proof of their actual existence, be thought incredible.:^ 
 
 The presumptions against revelation in general being dispatched, 
 objections against the Christian revelation in particular, against the 
 scheme of it, as distinguished from objections against its evidence, 
 are considered next. Now, supposing a revelation to be really given, 
 it is highly probable beforehand, that it must contain many things, 
 appearing to us liable to objections. The acknowledged dispensation 
 
 • Part 11. Chap. I. f See note [H] at the ^nd of this Preface. + Chap. 2. 
 
U PREFACE 
 
 of nature is very different from what we should have expected; rea- 
 soning then from analogy, the revealed dispensation, it is credible, 
 would be also different. Nor are we in any sort judges at what 
 time, or in what degree, or manner, it is fit or expedient for God to 
 instruct us, in things confessedly of the greatest use, either by nat- 
 ural reason, or by supernatural information. Tlius, arguing on spec- 
 ulation only, and without experience, it would seem very unlikely 
 that so important a remedy as that provided by Christianity for the 
 recovery of mankind from a state of ruin, should have been for so 
 many ages withheld; and, M'hen at last vouchsafed, should be imparted 
 to so few; and, after it has been imparted, should be attended with 
 obscurity and doubt. And just so we might have argued, before 
 experience, concerning the remedies provided in nature for bodily 
 diseases, to which by nature we are exposed: for many of these were 
 unknown to mankind for a number of ages; are known but to few 
 now; some important ones probably not discovered yet; and tHose 
 which are, neither certain in their application, nor universal in their 
 use. And the same mode of reasoning that would lead us to expect 
 they should have been so, would lead us to expect that the necessity 
 «f them should have been superseded, by there being no diseases; as 
 the necessity of the Christian scheme, it may be thought, might also 
 have been superseded, by preventing the fall of man, so that he should 
 not have stood in need of a redeemer at all.* 
 
 As to objections against the wisdom and goodness of Christianity, 
 the same answer may be applied to them as was to the like objections 
 against the censtitution of nature. For here also, Christianity is a 
 scheme or economy, composed of various parts, forming a whole; in 
 which scheme means are used for the accomplishing of ends: and 
 which is conducted by general laws: of all of which we know as little 
 as we do of the constitution of nature. And the seeming want of 
 wisdom or goodness in this system is to be ascribed to the same 
 cause, as the like appearances of defects in the natural system; our 
 inability to discern the whole scheme, and our ignorance of the rela- 
 tion of those parts which are discernible to others beyond our view. 
 
 The objections against Christianity as a matter of fact, ami against 
 the wisdom and goodness of it, having been obviated together, the 
 chief of them are now to be considered distinctly. One of these, 
 which is levelled against the entire system itself, is of this sort: the 
 restoration of mankind, represented in Scripture as the great design 
 of the Gospel, is described as requiring a long series of means, and 
 persons, and dispensations, before it can be brought to its completion^ 
 whereas the whole ought to have been effected at once. Now every 
 thing we see in the course of nature shews the folly of this objection. 
 For in the natural course of Providence, ends are brought about by 
 means, not operating immediately and at once, but deliberately and 
 in a way of progression; one thing being subservient to another, this 
 to somewhat further. The change of seasons, the ripening of fruits, 
 the growth of vegetable and animal bodies, are instances of this. 
 And therefore that the same progressive method should be followed 
 in the dispensation of Christianity, as is observed in the common 
 
 » Chap. &, 
 
BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 if 
 
 dispensation of Providence, is a reasonable expectation, justified bj 
 the analogy of nature.* 
 
 Another circumstance objected to in the Christian scheme is, the 
 appointment of a Mediator, and the saving of the world through him. 
 But the visible government of God being actually administered ia 
 this way, or by the mediation and instrumentality of others, there 
 can be no general presumption against an appointment of this kind, 
 against his invisible government being exercised in the same manner. 
 We have seen already that, with regard to ourselves, this visible 
 government is carried on by rewards and punishments; for happiness 
 and misery are the consequences of our own actions, considered as 
 virtuous and vicious, and these consequences we are enabled to 
 foresee. It might have been imagined, before consulting experience, 
 that after we had rendered ourselves liable to misery by our own ill 
 conduct, sorrow for what was past, and behaving well for the future, 
 would, alone and of themselves, have exempted us from deserved 
 punishment, and restored us to the divine favor. But the fact is 
 otherwise; and real reformation is often found to be of no avail, so 
 as to secure the criminal from poverty, sickness, infamy, and death, 
 the never-failing attendants on vice and extravagance, exceeding a 
 certain degree. By the course of nature then it appears, God does 
 not always pardon a sinner on his repentancej Yet there is provision 
 made, even in nature, that the miseries, which men bring on them- 
 selves by unlawful indulgences, may in many cases be mitigated, 
 and in some removed; partly by extraordinary exertions of the 
 offender himself, but more especially and frequently by the inter- 
 vention of others, who voluntarily, and from motives of compassioD, 
 submit to labor and sorrow, such as produce long and lasting incon- 
 veniences to themselves, as the means of rescuing another from the 
 wretched effects of former imprudences. Vicarious punishment; 
 therefore, or one person's sufferings contributing to the relief of 
 another, is a providential disposition, in the economy of nature:! 
 and it ought not to be matter of surprise, if by a method analogous 
 to this we be redeemed from sin and misery, in the economy of grace. 
 That mankind at present are in a state of degradation, different froni 
 that in which they were originally created, is the very ground of the 
 Christian Revelation, as contained in the Scriptures. Whether wc 
 acquiesce in the account, that our being placed in such a state is 
 owing to the crime ol our first parents, or choose to ascribe it to any 
 other cause, it makes no difference as to our condition; the vice and 
 unhappiness of the world are still there, notwithstanding all our 
 suppositions; nor is it Christianity that hath put us into this state.. 
 We learn also from the same Scriptures, what experience and the use 
 of expiatory sacrifices from the most early times might have taught 
 us, that repentance alone is not sufficient to prevent the fatal conse« 
 quences of past transgressions; but that still there is room for mercy, 
 and that repentance shall be available, though not of itself, yet thro' 
 the mediation of a Divine Person, the Messiah; who, from the sub- 
 limest principles of compassion, when we were dead in trespasses and 
 9ins,\ suffered and died, the innocent for the guilty, the just for the 
 
 *• Chap. 4. t See note r f] at the end of tJu» Prefa*"/?. t Ephea. ii, K 
 
 D 
 
26 PREFACE 
 
 unjust,* that wc might have redemptioji ihrou^^h his blood, even the 
 forgiveness of sins t In what way the death of Christ was of that 
 efficacy it is said to be, in procuring the reconciliation of sinners, the 
 Scriptures have not explained: it is enough that the doctrine is re- 
 vealed; that it is not contrary to any truths which reason and expe- 
 rience teach us; and that it accords in perfect harmony with the 
 usual method of the divine conduct in the government of the worM.^ 
 
 Again it hath been said, that if the Christian revelation were true, 
 it must have been universal, and could not have been left upon doubt- 
 ful evidence. But Go^, in his natural Providence, dispenses his gifts 
 in great variety, not only among creatures of the same species, but to 
 the same individuals also at different times. Had the Christian revela- 
 tion been universal at first, yet trom the diversity of men's abilities, 
 both of mind and body, their various means of improvement, and other 
 external advantages, some persons must soon have been in a situation, 
 with respect to religious knowledge, much superior to that of others, 
 as much perhaps as they are at present: and all men will be equitably 
 dealt with at last; and to whom little is given, of him little will be 
 required. Then as to the evidence for religion being left doubtful, 
 difficulties of this sort, like difficulties in practice, afford scope and 
 opportunity for a virtuous exercise of the understanding, and dispose 
 the mind to acquiesce and rest satisfied with any evidence that is real. 
 In the daily commerce of life, men are obliged to act upon great 
 uncertainties, with regard to success in their temporal pursuits; and 
 the case with regard to religion is parallel. However, though religion 
 be not intuitively true, the proofs of it which we have are amply suffi- 
 cient in reason to induce us to embrace it; and dissatisfaction with 
 those proofs may possibly be men's own fault.§ 
 
 Nothing remains but to attend to the positive evidence there is for 
 the truth of Christianity. Now, besides its direct and fundamental 
 proofs, which are miracles and prophecies, there are many collateral 
 circumstances, which may be united into one view, and all together 
 may be considered as making up one argument. In this way of treat- 
 ing the subject, the revelation, whether real or otherwise, may be 
 supposed to be wholly historical: the general design of which appears 
 to be, to give an account of the condition of religion, and its profes- 
 sors, with a concise narration of the political state of things, as far 
 as religion is affected by it, during a great length of time, near six 
 thousand years of which are already past. More particularly it 
 comprehends an account of God's entering into covenant with one 
 nation, the Jews, that he would be their God, and that they should 
 be his people; of his often interposing in their affairs; giving them 
 the promise, and afterwards the possession, of a flourishing country; 
 assuring them of the greatest national prosperity, in case of their 
 obedience, and threatening the severest national punishment, in case 
 they forsook him and joined in the idolatry of their pagan neighbors. 
 It contains also a prediction of a particular person, to appear in the 
 fulness of time, in whom all the promises of God to the Jews were to 
 be fulfilled: and it relates that, at the time expected, a person did 
 actually appear assuming to be the Saviour foretold; that he worked 
 
 • Pet, iii. 18. f Coloss, i. 14. * Chap. 5. § Chap. C. 
 
BY THE EDITOR. 2/ 
 
 various miracles among them, in confirmation of his divine authority; 
 and, as was foretold also, was rejected and put to death by the very 
 people who had long desired and waited for his coming; but that his 
 religion, in spite of all opposition, was established in the world by his 
 disciples, invested with supernatural powers for that purpose; of the 
 fate and fortunes of which religion there is a prophetical description, 
 carried down to the end of time. Let aoy one now, after reading 
 the above Idstory, and not knowing whether the whole were not a 
 fiction, be sui>pi)sed to ask, whether all that is here related be true? 
 And instead of a direct answer, let him be informed of the several 
 acknowledged facts, which are found to correspond to it in real life; 
 and then let him compare the history and facts together, and observe 
 the astonishing coincidence of both: such a joint review must appear 
 to him of very great weight, and to amount to evidence somewhat 
 more than human. And unless the whole series, and every partic- 
 ular circumstance contained in it, can be thought to have arisen from 
 accident, the truth of Christianity is proved.* 
 
 The view here given of the moral and religious systems of Bishop 
 Butler, it will immediately be perceived, is chiefly intended for 
 younger students, especially for students in divinity; to whom it is 
 hoped it may be of use, so as to encourage them to peruse, with proper 
 diligence, the original works of the author liimself. For it may be 
 necessary to observe, that neither of the volumes of this excellent 
 Prelate are addressed to those, who read for amusement, or curiosity, 
 or to get red of time. All subjects are not to be comprehended with 
 the same ease; and morality and religion, when treated as sciences, 
 each accompanied with difficulties of its own, can neither of them be 
 understood as they ought, without a very peculiar attention. But 
 morality and religion are not merely to be studied as sciences, or as 
 being speculatively true; they are to be regarded in another and 
 higher light, as the rule of life and manners, as containing authorita- 
 tive directions by which to regulate our faith and practice. And in 
 this view, the infinite importance of them considered, it can never be 
 an indifferent matter whether they be received or rejected. For both 
 claim to be the voice of God; and whether they be so or not, cannot 
 be known, till their claims be impartially examined. If they indeed 
 come from him, we are bound to conform to them at our peril; nor is 
 it left to our choice, whether we will submit to the obligations they 
 impose upon us or not; for submit to them we must in such a sense, 
 as to incur the punishments denounced by both against wilful disobe- 
 dience to their injunctions. I 
 
 » Chap 7. To the Analogy are suhjoined Two Dissertations, both originally inserted 
 in ihe body of the -work. One on Personal Identify, in which are contained some stric- 
 tures on Mr Locke, who asserts that consciousness makes or constitutes personal iden- 
 tity; whereas, as our Author observes, conscioasness makes only personality, or is 
 necessary to the idea of a person. Lea thinking intelligent being, but presupposes, 
 and therefore cannot constitute personal identity, just as knowledge presupposes truth, 
 but does not constitute it. Consciousness of past actions does indeed shew us the iden- 
 tity of oui-selves, or gives us a certain assui-ance that we are the same persons or living 
 agents now, wliich we were at the time to which our remembrance can look back; but 
 stiil we should be the s^me persons as we were, though this consciousness of what is 
 past were wanting, though all that had been done by us formerly were toi^otten; unless 
 It be true, that no person has existed a single moment beyond what he can remember. 
 The other dissertation is On the Nature of Virtue, which properly belongs to the moral 
 ;vs»em of our Autfcorj already explained. 
 
2^ NOTES TO THE PREFACE, 
 
 The followlRg Epitaph, said to be written by Dr. Nathaniel Forster, is iuscribed on a 
 flat marble stone, in tlie cathedral church of Bristol, placed over the spot where the 
 remains of Bishop BcTTLsa are deposited; and which, as it is now almost obliterated, 
 it may be worth while here to preserve. 
 
 H. S. 
 
 Reverendus admodutn in Cliristo Pater 
 
 JOSEPH BUTLER, LL. D. 
 
 Hujusce prlmo Diceceseos 
 Deinde Dunelmensis Episcopus. 
 
 Qualis quantusq; Vir erat 
 
 Sua libentissiine agnovit retas: 
 
 Et si quid Prsesuli aut Scriptoti ad famam valent 
 
 Mens altissima, 
 
 Ingenii perspicacis et subacti Vis, 
 
 Animusq; plus, simplex, candidus, liberalis, 
 
 Mortui baud facile evanescet menioria. 
 
 Obiit Bathonise 16 Kalend. Julii, 
 
 A. D. 1752. 
 
 Annos natus 60. 
 
 NOTES TO THE PREFACE, BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 Page 10. [A.j 
 
 1)R. BUTLERj when Bishop of Brisfoly piit up a cross, a plain 
 piece of marble inlaid, in the chapel of his episcopal house. This, 
 which was intended by the blameless Prelate merely as a sign or me- 
 morial, that true Christians are to bear their cross, and not to be 
 ashamed of following a crucified Master, was considered as affording 
 a presumption that he was secretly inclined to popish forms and cer- 
 emonies, and had no great dislike to popery itself. And, on account 
 of the offence it occasioned, both at the time antl since, it were to be 
 wished, in prudence, it had not been done. 
 
 Page 12. [B.] 
 
 Many of the sentiments, in these two discourses of Bishop But- 
 iEH, concerning the sovereign good of man; the impossibility of pro- 
 curing it in the present life; the unsatisfactoriness o^ earthly enjoy- 
 ments; together with the somewhat beyond and above them all, 
 which once attained, the.e will rest nothing further to be wished or 
 hoped; and which is thou only to be expected, when we shall have 
 put off this mortal body, and our union with God shall be complete; 
 occur in JIooiier''s E'scicsiastical Folity, Book 1. § xi. 
 
 Page 14. [C]. 
 
 "When the first edition of this Preface was published, I had in vain 
 endeavored to procure a sight of the papers, in v/hich Bishop But- 
 2-ER was accused of having died a papist, and Archbishop Secker's 
 replies to them; though I well remembered to have read both, when 
 they first appeared in the public prints. But a learned professor in 
 xhe UKiversity of Oxford has furnished me with the whole contro- 
 
BY THE EDITOR. j29 
 
 versy in its original form; a brief history of which it may not be un- 
 acceptable to offer here to the curious reader. 
 
 The attack was opened in the year 1767, in an anonymous pam^ 
 phlet, entitled Tlie Root of Protestant Errors examined; in which 
 the author asserted, that "by an anecdote lately given him, that 
 « some Prelate,' (who at the bottom of the page is called B — p of 
 D — m) is said to have died in the communion of a church, that makes 
 use of saints, saint days, and all the trumpery of saint worship." 
 When this remarkable fact, now first divulged, came to be generally 
 known, it occasioned, as might be expected, no little alarm; and in- 
 telligence of it was no sooner conveyed to Archbishop Secker, than 
 in a short letter, signed Misopseudes^ and printed in the St. James's 
 Chronicle of May 9, he called upon the writer to produce his author- 
 ity for publishing "so gross and scandalous a falsehood." To this chal- 
 lenge an immediate answer was returned by the author of the pam- 
 phlet, who, now assuming the name of Fhileleutheros, informed Mi- 
 sopsettdes, through the channel of the same paper, that " such anec- 
 dote had been given him; and that be was yet of opinion there is not 
 any thing improbable in it, when it is considered that the same Pre- 
 late put up the popish insignia of the cross in his chapel, when at 
 Bristol; and in his last episcopal Charge has squinted very much 
 towards that superstition." Here we find the accusation not only 
 repeated, but supported by reasons, such as they are; of which it 
 seemed necessary that some notice should be taken: nor did the Arch- 
 bishop conceive it unbecoming his own dignity to stand up, on this 
 occasion, as the vindicator of innocence against the calumniator of 
 the helpless dead. Accordingly, in a second letter in the same 
 newspaper of May 23, and subscribed Misopseudes, as before, after 
 reciting from Bishop Butler's Sermon before the Lords the very 
 passage here printed in the Preface, and observing that " there are, 
 in the same Sermon, declarations, as strong as can be made, against 
 temporal punishments for heresy, schism, or even for idolatry," his 
 Grace expresses himself thus: " now he (Bishop Butler) was uni- 
 versally esteemed, throughout his life, a man of strict piety and hon- 
 esty, as well as uncommon abilities. He gave all the proofs, public 
 and private, which his station led him to give, and they were deci- 
 sive and daily, of his continuing to the last a sincere member of the 
 church of England. Nor had ever any of his acquaintance, or 
 most intimate friends, nor have they to this day, the least doubt 
 ofJt." As to putting up a cross in his chapel, the archbishop 
 frankly owns, that for himself he wishes he had not; and thinks 
 that in so doing the Bishop did amiss. But then he asks, " can that 
 be opposed, as any proof of popery, to all the evidence on the other 
 side; or even to the single evidence of the above-mentioned Sermon? 
 Most of our churches have crosses upon them: are they therefore 
 popish churches? The Lutherans have more than crosses in theirs: 
 are the Lutherans therefore papists?" And as to the Charge, no 
 papist, his Grace remarks, would have spoken as Bishop Butler 
 there does, of the observances peculiar to Roman catholics, some of 
 which he expressly censures as wrong and superstitious, and others 
 as made subservient to the purposes of superstition, and, on these ac- 
 counts, abolished at the reformation. After the publication of this 
 
^0 NOTES TO THE PREFACE, 
 
 Tetter, Phileleutheros replied in a short defence of his own conduct, 
 but Avithout producing any thing new in confirmation of what he had 
 advanced. And here the controversy, so far as the two principals 
 were concerned, seems to have ended. 
 
 But the dispute was not suffered to die away quite so soon. For 
 in the same year, and in the same newspaper of July 21, another 
 letter appeared; in which the author not only contended that the 
 cross in the episcopal chapel at Bristol, and the charge to the clergy 
 of Durham in 1751, amount to full proof of a strong attachment to 
 the idolatrous communion of the church of Rome, but, with the rea- 
 der's leave, he would fain account for the bishop's " tendency this 
 ivay." And this he attempted to do, " from tlie natural melan- 
 choly and glodminess of I3r. Butler's disposition: from his great 
 fondness for the lives of Romish saints, and their books of mystic 
 piety; from his drawing his notions of teaching men religion, not 
 tVom the New Testament, but from philosophical and political opin- 
 ions of his own; and above all, from his transition from a strict dis- 
 senter amongst the prcsbyterians to a rigid churchman, and his sud- 
 den and unexpected elevation to great wealth and dignity in the 
 church." The attack thus renewed excited the archbishop's atten- 
 tion the second time, and drew from him a fresh answer, subscribed 
 also Misopseiides, in the St. James's Clironicle oi' August 4. In this 
 letter our excellent Metropolitan, first of allobliquely hinted at the 
 nnfairness of sitting in judgment on the character of a man who had 
 been dead fifteen years, and then reminded his correspondent, that 
 '• full proof had been already published, that Bishop Buti.er abhor- 
 red popery as a vile corruption of Oliristianity, and that it might be 
 proved, if needful, that beheld the Fope to be Antichrist," (to 
 which decisive testimonies of undoubted aversion from the Romish 
 cliurch another is also adtled in the postscript, his taking, when pro- 
 moted to the see of Durham, for his domestic cluplain. Dr. Nath. 
 Forster, who had published, not four j'ears before, a sermon, entitled, 
 Popery dmtructive of the evidence nf Christianity) proceeds to ob- 
 serve, '• Tliat the natural melancholy of the Bishop's temper would 
 rather have fixed him amongst his first friends, than prompted him 
 to t!ie change he «iade: that he read books of all sorts, as well as 
 books of mystic piety, ajid knew how to pick the good that was in 
 them out of the bad; that his opinions were exposed without reserve 
 in his Analogy and his Sermons, and if the doctrine of either be po- 
 pish or unscriptura!, the learned world hath mistaken strangely in 
 admiring botii: that instead of being a strict dissenter, he never was 
 a communicant in any dissenting assembly; on the contrary, that he 
 v.ent occasionally, from his early years, to the established worship, 
 and becsimc a constant conformist to it, when he was barely of age, 
 and entered himself, in 1714, of Oriel College: that his elevation to 
 ^^reat dignity in the church, far from being sudden and unexpecteil, 
 was u gradual and natural rise, through a variety of preferments, and 
 .1 peiiod of t'sirty two years: that as bishop of Durham he bad very 
 httle authority beyond his brethren; and in ecclesiastical matters had 
 ; 0!ie beyond them; a larger income than most of them he had; but 
 • 'lis he employed, not, as was insinuated, in augmenting; the pomp of 
 v.'"':'!ip in his rathedr;J; where indeed i» is r.o greater than in others, 
 
' BY THE EDITOR. 3\ 
 
 but for the purposes of charity, and in the repairine; of his houses.^* 
 After these remarks, the letter closes with the following words; 
 " Upon the whole, few accusations, so entirely groundless, have beea 
 so pertinaciously, I am unwilling to say maliciously, carried on, as 
 the present; and surely it is high time for the authors and abettors 
 of it, in mere common prudence, to shew some regard, if not to 
 truth, at least to shame." 
 
 It only remains to be mentioned, that the above letters of arch- 
 bishop SECKKiihad such an effect on a writer, who signed himself in 
 the St. James's Chronicle., of August 25, »4 Dissenting Minister^ that 
 he declared it as his opinion, that *' the author of the pamphlet, call- 
 ed Tlie Root of Protestant JErrors examined, and his friends, were 
 obliged in candor, in justice, and in honor, to retract their charge, 
 unless they could establish it on much better grounds than had hith- 
 erto appeared:" and he expressed his " hopes that it would be under- 
 stood that the dissenters in general had no hand in the accusation, 
 and that it had only been the act of two or three mistaken men." 
 Another person also, "a foreigner by birth," as he says of himself, 
 who had been long an admirer of Bishop Butler, and had perused 
 with great attention all that had been written on both sides in the 
 present controversy, confesses he had been " v/onderfully pleased 
 with observing, v/ith what candor and temper, as well as clearness 
 and solidity, he was vindicated from the aspersions laid against him." 
 All the adversaries of our prelate, however, had not the virtue or 
 sense to be thus convinced; some of whom still continued, under the 
 signatures of Old Martin, Latimer, Jin Impartial Protestant, Pauii- 
 mis, Misonothos, to repeat their confuted falsehoods in the public 
 prints; as if the curse of calumniators had fallen upon them, and 
 their memory, by being long a traitor to truth, had taken at last 
 a severe revenge, and compelled them to credit their own lie. The 
 first of these gentlemen, Old Martin, vf\\o dates from JV*-c-sf«e, May 
 29, from the rancour and malignity with which his letter abounds, 
 and from the particular virulence he discovers towards the characters 
 of Bishop Butler and his defender, I conjecture to be no other than 
 the very person who htid already figured in this dispute, so early as 
 the year 1752; of whose work entitled, A serious inquiry into the 
 use and importance of external Religion, the reader will find some 
 account in the notes subjoined to the bishop's charge, at the end of 
 this volume. 
 
 Page 15. [D.] 
 
 The letters, with a sight of which I was indulged by the favor of 
 our present most worthy Metropolitan, are all, as I remember, wrap- 
 ped together under one cover; on the back of which is written, in 
 Archbishop Secker's own hand, the following words, or words to 
 this effect, Presumptive arguments that Bishop Bvtl^k did not die a 
 Papist. 
 
 Page 18. [E.] 
 
 " Far be it from me," says the excellent Dr. T. Balguy,* " to dis- 
 pute the reality of a moral principle in the human heart. I /fc' 
 
 • Discourse IS, 
 
32 NOTES TO THE PREFACE, 
 
 its existence: I clearly discern its use and importance. But in no 
 respect is it more important, than as it suggests the idea of a moral 
 Governor. Let this idea be once effaced, and the principle of con- 
 science will soon be found weak and ineffectual. Its influence on 
 men's conduct has, indeed, been too much undervalued by some phi- 
 losophical inquirers. But be that influence, while it lasts, more or 
 less, it is not a steady and permanent principle of action. Unhappi- 
 ly we always have it in our power to lay it asleep. — J^eglect alone 
 will suppress and stifle it, and bring it almost into a state of stupe- 
 faction; nor can any thing less than the terrors of religion awaken 
 our minds from this dangerous and deadly sleep. It can never be 
 matter of indifference to a thinking man, whether he is to be happy 
 or miserable beyond the grave.'* 
 
 Page 22. [F.] 
 The ignorance of man is a favorite doctrine with Bishop Butler. 
 It occurs in the second part of the Analogy; it makes the subject of his 
 fifteenth Sermon; and we meet with it again in his charge. Whether 
 sometimes it be not carried to a length which is excessive, may admit 
 of doubt. 
 
 Page 22. [G.J 
 
 Admirable to this purpose are the words of Dr. T. lialgiiy, in the 
 IXth of his Discourses, already referred to. "The doctrine of a life 
 to come, some persons will say, is a doctrine o? natural religion; and 
 can never therefore be properly alleged to shew the importance of 
 revelation. They judge perhaps from the frame of the world, that 
 the present system is imperfect: they see designs in it not yet cowi- 
 pleted; and they think they have grounds for expecting anof/ier state, 
 in which these designs shall be /arf/tgr carried on, and brought to a 
 conclusion, worthy of Infinite Wisdom. I am not concerned to dis- 
 pute the justness of this reasoning; nor do I wish to dispute it. But 
 how far will it reach.'' Will it lead us to the Christian doctrine ol a 
 judgment to come.'' Will it give us the prospect of an eternity of 
 happiness.'' Nothing of all this. It shews us only, that death is not 
 the end of our beings; that we are likely to pass hereafter into other 
 systems, more favorable than the present to the great ends of God's 
 Providence, the virtue and the happiness of his intelligent creatures. 
 But into what systems we are to be removed: what new scenes are to 
 be presented to us, either of pleasure or pain; what new parts we 
 shall have to act, and to what trials and temptations we may yet be 
 exposed; on all these subjects we know just nothing. That our hap- 
 piness for ever depends on our conduct here, is a most important 
 proposition, which we learn only from revelation.'^ 
 
 Page 23. [H.] 
 
 "In the common affairs of life, common experience is sufficient to 
 direct us. But will common experience serve to guide our judgment 
 concerning the fall and redemption of mankind? From what we see 
 every day, can we explain the commencement, or foretel the dissolution 
 of the world? To judge of events like these, we should be conversant 
 in the history of other planets; should be distinctly informed of God's 
 various dispensations to all the different orders of rational b"*' 
 
BY THE EDITOR. 33 
 
 Instead then of grounding our religious opinions on what we call 
 experience, let us apply to a more certain guide, let us hearken to the 
 testimony of God himself. The credibility of /iMnuin testimony, and 
 the conduct of human agents, are subjects perfectly within the reach 
 of our natural faculties; and we ought to desire no firmer foundation 
 for our belief of religion, than for the judgments we form in the com- 
 mon affairs of life; whereas we see a little plain testimony easily 
 outweighs the most specious conjectures, and not seldom even strong 
 probabilities." Dr. Balguy's 4th Char,ge. See also an excellentqiam- 
 phlet, entitled, Remarks on Mr Hume's Essay on the JVatural His- 
 tory of Religion, § v. And the 6th of Dr. Powell's Discourses. 
 
 Page 46. [I]. 
 
 Dr. Arthur Ashley Sykes, from whose writings some good may 
 be collected out of a multitude of things of a contrary tendency, in 
 what he is pleased to call The Scriptuxe Doctrine of Redemption,* 
 opposes what is here advanced by Bishop Butler; quoting his words, 
 but without mentioning his name. If what is said adbove be not 
 thought a sufficient answer to the objections of this author, the rea- 
 der may do well to consult a charge On the use and abuse of PhiloS' 
 ophy in the study of Religion, by the late Dr. Powell, who seems to 
 me to have had the observations of Dr. Sykes in his view, where he 
 is confuting the reasonings of certain philosophizing divines against 
 the doctrine of the atonement. Powell's Discourses, Charge III, p. 
 342—348. 
 
 * See the Observations on the texts citeQ in his first chapter, and also in chapters- the 
 fifth and sixth. 
 
 E 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 IF the reader should meet here with any thing which he had not 
 before attended to, it will not be in the observations upon the consti- 
 tution 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 subject as religion. However, the proper 
 force of the following treatise lies in the whole general analogy con- 
 sidered together. 
 
 It is come, I know not how, to be taken for granted by many per- 
 sons, 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 subject of mirth and ridicule, as it were by way of 
 reprisals for its having so long interrupted the pleasures of the 
 world. On the contrary, thus much, at least, will be here found, 
 not taken for granted, but 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 con- 
 trary. And the practical consequence to be drawn from this is not 
 attended to by every one who is concerned in it. 
 
 May, 1736. 
 
XO TBB 
 
 RIGHT HONORABLE 
 
 CHABLES, LORD TALBOT, 
 
 BARON OF HENSOL, 
 LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR OF GREAT BRITAIN^ 
 
 THS FOLLOWnrS 
 
 TRE A TISE 
 
 IS, WITH ALL RESPECT, INSCRIBED, 
 
 IN ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF THE fflGHEST OBUGATIONS 
 
 TO THE LATE 
 
 LORD BISHOP OF DURHJM 
 
 AND TO HIMSELF, 
 
 iY HIS lordship's MOST DUTIFUL, 
 
 MOST DEVOTED, 
 
 AND MOST HUMBLE SERVANT, 
 
 JOSEPH BUTLER. 
 
COJSTTEJ^'TS, 
 
 Introduction 
 
 PART I. 
 
 aP NATURAL RELIGION. 
 
 
 Page 
 
 A A 
 
 Of a Future Life 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 CHAP, n. 
 
 
 44 
 
 Of the Government of God by R»i\vards and Punishments; 
 particularly of the latter 
 
 and 
 
 56 
 
 
 CHAP III. 
 
 
 
 Of the Moral Government of God 
 
 
 65 
 
 CHAP IV. 
 
 Of a State of Probation, as implying Trial, Difficulties and 
 Danger 7t 
 
 CHAP. V 
 
 Of a State of Probation, as intended for Moral Discipline and 
 Improvement 83 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Of the Opinion of Necessity, considered as influencing Practice 9* 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Of the Government of God, considered as a scheme er Consti- 
 tution, imperfectly comprehended 107 
 
 Conclusion 115 
 
 PART II. 
 
 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Of the importance of Christianity 119 
 
S8 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Of the supposed Presumption against a Revelation,, considered 
 
 as miraculous ISO 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 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 1S5 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Of Christianity, considered as a Scheme or Constitution, im- 
 perfectly comprehended 144 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Of the particular System of Christianity; the Appointment of 
 a Mediator, and the Redemption of the World by him 149 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Of the want of Universality in Revelation; and of the suppos- 
 ed Deficiency in the Proof of it 161 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Of the particular Evidence for Christianity 173 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 Of the Objections which may be made against arguing from 
 the Analogy of Nature to religion 195 
 
 Conclusion 203 
 
 DISSERTATION I. 
 OfPersonalldentity 211 
 
 DISSERTATION II. 
 
 Of the Nature of Virtue 216 
 
 A Charge to the Clergy of the Diocese of Durham^ IT51 225 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 PROBABLE evidence is essentially distinguished from demonstra- 
 tive by this, that it admits of degrees; and of all variety of them, 
 from the highest moral certainty, to the very lowest presumption. 
 We cannot 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 convic- 
 tion which is implied in saying a thing is probably true. But that 
 the slightest possible presumption 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-morro<V; 
 but the observation of this event for so many days, and months, and 
 ages together, as it has been observed by mankind, gives us a full 
 assurance that it will. 
 
 That which chiefly constitutes probability is expressed in the word 
 likely, i. e* likely some truth,* or true event; like it, in itself, in its 
 evidence, in some more or fewer of its circumstances. For when we de- 
 termine a thing to be probably true, suppose that an event has or will 
 come to pass, it is from the mind's remarking in it a likeness to some 
 other event, which we have observed has come to pass. And this 
 observation forms, in numberless daily instances, a presumption, 
 opinion, or full conviction, that such event l\as or will come to pass, 
 according as the observation is, that the like event has sometimes, 
 most commonly, or always so far as our observation 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 success of our pursuits; our 
 expectations that others will act so and so in such circumstances 
 and our judgment that such actions proceed from such principles; 
 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 
 
 * Yetisiraile, 
 
40 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 with respect to others or ourselves. And thus, whereas the prince** 
 who had always lived in a warm climate, naturally concluded in 
 the way of analogy, that there was no such thing as water's becom- 
 ing hard, because he had always observed it to be fluid and yielding; 
 we on the contrary, from analogy conclude, that there is no pre- 
 sumption at all against this; that it is supposable there may be frost 
 in England any given day in January next; probable that there will 
 on some other day of the month; and that there is a moral certainty, 
 i. c. ground for an expectation without any doubt' of it, in some pait 
 or other of the winter. 
 
 Probable evidence, in its very nature, affords but an imperfect 
 kind of information, and is to be considered i^s relative only to beinus 
 of limited capacities. For nothing which is the possible object of 
 knowledge, whether past, present, or future, can be probable to an 
 infinite InleJiigence, since it cannot but be discerned absolutely as 
 it is in itself, certainly true, or certainly fals*^ But to us, probabil- 
 ity 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, 
 oris 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 greatest presumption 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 abso- 
 lute and formal obligation, in point of prudence and of interest, to 
 act upon that presumption 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 prudence to do what upon the whole 
 appears, according to the best of his judgment, to be for his happi- 
 ness, as what he certainly knows to be so. Nay, further, in ques- 
 tions of great consequence, a reasonable 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 men- 
 tioned 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 top, 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 nature, the founda- 
 tion, and measure of probability; or whence it proceeds that llkenesh 
 should beget that presumption, opinion, and full conviction, which 
 the human mind is formed to receive from it, and which it does neces- 
 sarily 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 thoroughly con- 
 sidered. Inded 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: b'lt though 
 
 * The stoiy is told by Mr. Locke in tl'e Chapter of Probabilitr. 
 t See Chop vi. Part IL 
 
INTRODUCTION. 41 
 
 so little in this way has been attempted by those who have treated of 
 our intellectual powers, and the exercise of them, this does not hin- 
 der but that we may be, as we unquestionably are assured, that anal- 
 ogy is of weight, in various degrees, towards determining our judg- 
 ment 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 gteater 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 not of any weight; or instances of 
 seeming analogies, which are really of none. It is enough to the 
 
 S resent purpose to observe, that this general way of arguing is cvi- 
 ently natural, just, and conclusive. For there is no man can make 
 a question but that the sun will rise tomorrow; 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, Origen* has with singu- 
 lar sagacity observed, that/je tvho believes the Scripture to have pro- 
 ceeded 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 diincultie9, 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 between that system of things and dispensation of Provi- 
 dence, which i-evelation informs us of, and that system of things and 
 dispensation of Providence, which experience, together with reason, 
 informs us of, i. e. the known course of nature; this is a presump- 
 tion, that they have both the same author and cause; at least so fai* 
 as to answer objections against the former's 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 
 liere supposed. 
 
 Forming our notions of the constitution and government of the 
 world upon reasoning, without foundation for the principles which 
 we assume, whether from the attributes of God or any thing else, is 
 building a world upon hypothesis, like Des Cartes. 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 
 explain the structure of the human body, and the nature of diseases 
 and medicines, from mere mathematics, without sufficient data) is an 
 error much a-kin to the former; since what is assumed in order to 
 make tlie reasoning applicable, is hypothesis. But it must be allowed 
 just, to join abstract reasonings with the observation of facts, and ar- 
 gue from such facts as are known, to others that are like them; from 
 that part of the divine government over intelligent 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. 
 
 The method then of concluding and determining being practical, 
 
 * Xpn /ttfn Tot ye rhv «7r«| 7eccpx^(^ei(>uyoy ru Trrio-avTOi to» xoO'/m* uiett ruurxi 
 T»i y^xipoii TTi'TirtiO'^ut , or< oVa vefi rrfi xrlu'eai *«»-«»t« tou ^firvTi tov ^tfi 
 ecurt^ ?\iyov, rZvTgi KXt TTsfi ray yexfa*. Philpcal. P. 23. Ed. Cant, 
 
 F 
 
42 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and what, if ws will act at all, we cannot but act upon iu the conimou 
 pursuits of life: being evidently conclusive, in various degrees, pro- 
 portionable to the degree and exactness of the whole analogy or 
 likeness; and having so great authority for its introduction into the 
 subject of religirn, even revealed religion; my design is to apply it 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 accumulated evidence^ 
 from this argument of analogy and final causes: from abstract rea- 
 sonings; from the most ancient tradition and testimony, and from 
 the general 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 imag- 
 ining that they should, have been disposed and carried on after a 
 better model than what appears in the present disposition and con- 
 duct 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 detraction against human understanding, if one should say, 
 even beforehand, that the plan which this speculative person would 
 fix upon, though he were the wisest 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 greatest virtue, or which was productive of the 
 greatest happiness, or that these two were necessarily connected, 
 and run 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 emen« 
 diations 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 camti to some such conclusions as these: that ail 
 creatures should at first be made as perfect and as happy as they were 
 capable of ever being that nothing, to be sure, ot 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 tliey should, whi ther 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 going 
 wrong, or by laying the right motive of action in every instance be- 
 iore their minds continually in so strong a manner, as would neve! 
 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 method of carryii% things on; nay, a^ 
 contrary to a principal purpose, for which it would be supposed crea- 
 tures were made, namely happiness. 
 
 Now, without considering what is to be said in particular to tha 
 
INTRODUCTION. 4$ 
 
 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 s«e beforehand that we have not faculties for this luhd of 
 speculation. For though it be admitted, that from the first princi- 
 ples of our nature, we unavoidably judge or determine some ends to 
 be absolutely in themselves preferable to others, and that the ends 
 now mentioned, or if they run up into one, that this one is absolute- 
 ly 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 assistant to virtue; or what means might be abso- 
 lutely necessary to produce the most happiness in a system of such ex- 
 tent as our own world may be, taking in all that is past and to come, 
 though we should suppose it detached from the whole of things. In- 
 deed we are so far from being able to judge of this, that we are not 
 judges what may the necessary means of raising and conducting one 
 person to the highest perfection 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. Our whole nature leads us to ascribe all moral perfec- 
 tion 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 con- 
 sider what a practical proof is; because it is the voice of God Speak- 
 ing in us. And from hence we conclude, that virtue must' be the 
 happiness, and vice the misery of every creature; and that regulari- 
 ty and order and right cannot but prevail 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 na- 
 ture with respect to intelligent creatures; which may be resolved in- 
 to general laws or rules of administration, in the same way as many 
 of the laws of nature respecting inanimate matter may be colh?cted 
 from experiments. And let us compare the known constitution a»id 
 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 to believe 
 and expect; and see whether they, are not analagous 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 ex- 
 tent, and consists of several parts; in some more, in others less ex- 
 act. In some few instances, perhaps, it may amount to a real prac- 
 tical proof; in others not so. Yet in these it is a confirmation of 
 what is proved other ways. 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 of 
 it, is not a subject of ridicule, unless that of nature be so too. And 
 it will afford an answer to almost all objections against the sye- 
 
44 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 tern both of natural and revealed religion; though not perhaps an an- 
 swer in so great a degree, yet in a very considerable degree an an- 
 swer 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, implied in the notion of 
 religion in general and of Christianity, contains in it,-That mankind 
 is appointed to live. in a future state;* that there, everyone shall be re- 
 ■^varded or punished;! rewarded or punished respectively for all that 
 behaviour here,which we comprehend under the v/ords, virtuous or vir 
 cious, morally good or evil;| that our present life is a probation, a state 
 of trial,§ and of discipline,!! for that future one; notwithstanding the 
 objectionSjwhich men may fancy they have, from notions of necessity, 
 against there being any such moral plan as this M. a!!;** and what- 
 ever 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 v/ickedness, and conse- 
 quently of ruin, and the sense Jjoth of their condition and d\ity being 
 greatly corrupted amongst men; this gave occasion for an additional 
 dispensation of Providence; of the utmost importance;!! proved by 
 miracles:§§ but containing in it many, things appearing to us strange 
 and not to have been expected;*** a dispensation of Providence,which 
 is a scheme or system of things;!!! carried on by the mediation of a 
 diving person, the Messiah, in order to the recovery of the world;!!! 
 yet not revealed to all men, nor proved wi^h the strongest possible 
 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 fnllou'ing Treatise will 
 be to shew, that the several parts principally objecfe*! against in this 
 moral and Christiaii dispensation, includinp; its sclicme, its publica- 
 tion, and the proof ivhich God has afl'oided us of its truth; that the 
 particular.parts principally objected against in ti.is whole dispensa- 
 tion, are analagous to what is experienced in the cimstitution and 
 course of nature, or providence; tiiat the chi^f objections themsejv%s 
 which are alleged against the furmer, are no other than what may be 
 alleged with justness against the latter, where they are found in fact 
 to be inconclusive; and that this argument from analogy is in gene- 
 ral unanswerable, and undoubtedly of v/eight *on the side of reli- 
 gion,!l!l!| notwithstanding the objections which may seem to lie against 
 it, and the real ground which there may be for difterence 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. 
 
 ** Chap J. ! Chap, ii- t'Chap iii. § Chap. jv. !) Chap. v. 
 
 •* Chap vi. frChap. vii. +t Part H Chap i §§ Chap. ii. 
 
 ^'I* Chap. li^. tit^biip iv. +t+Chap.v. §§§ Chap, vi vii. fli!! Chap. viij. 
 
The 
 
 ANALOGY OF RELIGION 
 
 TO THE 
 
 CONSTITUTION AND COURSE Q¥ NATURE, 
 
 PART I. 
 
 OF NATURAL RELIGION. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Of a Future Life. 
 
 STRANGE difficulties have been raised by some concerning per- 
 sonal identity, or the sameness of living agents, implied in the notion 
 of our existing now and hereafter, or in any two successive moments; 
 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 withbuttjeing 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 in the helpless im- 
 perfect state of infancy, and having 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 suf- 
 fering, in one period of their being, greatly different from those ap- 
 pointed them in another period of it. And in other creatures 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 locomotive powers 
 by such change; and birds and insects bursting the shell, their habi- 
 tation, and by this means entering into a new world, furnished with 
 new a.ccommodations 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 
 Qurselves existed formerly in the womb and in our infancy, are 
 almost as different from our present in mature age, as it is possible 
 
415 Of a Future Life. Patt I. 
 
 to eonceive any two states or degrees of life san be. Therefore, that 
 we are to exist hereafter in a state as different (suppose) from our 
 present, as this is from our former, is but according to the analogy 
 of nature; according to a natural order or appointment of the very 
 same kind with what we have already experienced. 
 
 II. We know we are endued with capacities of action, of happi- 
 ness and misery; for we are conscious of acting, of enjoying pleas* 
 ure, and suffering pain. Now that we have these powers and capa- 
 tles before death, is a presumption that we shall retain them through 
 and after death; indeed a probability 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 continue as we experience 
 they are, in all respects, except those in which we have some reason 
 to think they will be altered. This is that kind* of presumption or 
 probability from analogy, expressed in the very word continuance, 
 which seems our only natural reason for believing the course of the 
 world will continue tomorrow, as it has done so far as our experience 
 or knowledge of history can carry us back. Nay, it seems our only 
 reason for believing that any one substance now existing will con- 
 tinue to exist a moment longer, the self-existent substance only 
 excepted. Thus if men were assured that the unknown 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 uncon- 
 nected 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 proba- 
 bility that our living powers will continue after death, unless there 
 be some ground to think that death is their destruction.! For, 
 if it would he in a manner certain that we should survive death, pro- 
 vided it were certain that death would not be our destruction, it must 
 be highly prtbable we shall survive it, if there be no ground to think 
 death will be our destruction. 
 
 Now, though I think it must be acknawledged, 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, i. e. our 
 Jiving powers, might be wholly destroyed; yet, even prior to those 
 proofs, there is really no particular distinct ground or reason for this 
 apprehension at all, so far as I can find. If there be, it must arise 
 either from the reason of the things or from the analogy of nature. 
 
 • I say kind of presumption or probability; for 1 do not mean to affirm that there is 
 the same degree of conriction, that our living powers will continue after death, as 
 ihere is, that our substances will. 
 
 f Destruction of Irving powers, is a manner of expression unavoidably ambiguous; 
 and may signify either the destruction of a living being, so as that the same living 
 being shall be uncapable of ever pei-ceiving or actmg again at all; or, the destruction 
 of those means and instruments by which it is capable of its present life, of its present 
 •tate 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 destruc- 
 tion of living powers in the latter sense. But we have no reason to think the destruc- 
 tion of living powers in the former sense, to be possible. We have no more reason to 
 think a l)ctng endued with living powers ever loses them during its whole existence, 
 than to b. licve that a stone ever acquires them. 
 
Chap. I. Of a Future Life. 47. 
 
 But wc caunot argue from the reason of the things Hwat death is 
 the destruction of living agents, because we know not at al! what 
 death is in itself; but only some of its eftects, such as the dissolution 
 of flesh, skin, and bones. And these eifects do in no wise appear to 
 imply the destruction of a living agent. And besit'es, 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 
 depend upon; the powers themselves as distinguished, not only from 
 their actual exercise, but also from the present capacity of eKercising 
 them; and as opposed to their destruction; for sleep, or however a 
 8woon, shews us, not only that these powers exist when they are not 
 exercised, as the passive power of motion does in inanimate matter; 
 but shews also that they exist, when there is no present capacity 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 ren^ain undestroyed. Since then we 
 know not at all upon what the existence of our living powers depends, 
 this shews 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 degree 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 shews us no connection between death, and the destruction of 
 living agents. Nor can we find any thing throughout the whole 
 analogy of nature, to afford us even the slightest presumption, that 
 animals 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 
 
 f>roof, which we had before their death, of their being possessed of 
 iving powers, but does not appear to afford the least reason to 
 believe that they are, then, or by that event, deprived of them. 
 
 And our knowing that they were possessed of these powers, up to 
 the very period to which we nave faculties capable of tracing them, is 
 itself a probability 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 existence in another state of life, of perception and of 
 action, will be but according to a method of providential conduct, the 
 like to which has been already exercised even with regard to our- 
 selves; according to a course of nature, the like to which we have 
 already 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 dis- 
 tinctly 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 apprehension, but the author of 
 all error; as we 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 imag- 
 inary presumptions, that death will be our destruction, arising from 
 these kinds of early and lasting prejudices; and to shew how little 
 
48 Of a Future Life. Part I. 
 
 they can really amount to, even though we cannot wholly divest 
 ourselves of them. And, 
 
 I. All presumption of death's being the destruction 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 must be so 
 too. For were the motion of any particle 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, i. e. part of this mat- 
 ter 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 
 inheres, namely, the particle of matter: for if this could be divided 
 into two, one part m^ght be moved and the other at rest, which is 
 contrary to the supposition. 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 consequently the sub- i 
 ject in which it resides, i. e. the conscious being. Now upon sup- 
 position that living agent each man calls himself, is thus a single 
 being, which there is at least no more diflSculty 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 impressions from, and have power over ^ 
 any matter. It is as easy to conceive 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 bodies variously modified 
 and organized, as to conceive how we can animate such bodies as 
 our present. And lastly, the dissolution of all these several organ- 
 ized bodies, supposing ourselves to have successively animated them, 
 would have no more conceivable 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 living agent cannot, 
 indeed, from the nature of the thing, be properly proved by experi- 
 mental observations. But as these fall in with the supposition of its 
 unity, so they plainly lend us to conclude certainly, that our gross 
 organized bodies, with which we perceive the objects of sense, and 
 with which we act, are no part of ourselves; and therefore show us, 
 that wc have no reason to believe their destruction to be ours, even 
 without determining whether our living substances 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 
 
 * Sec Dr. CliUrke's Letter to Mr. Dodwell, and the defences of it 
 
Chap. I. Of a Future Life, 49 
 
 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 a con- 
 siderable 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 between these living agents ourselves, and large quan- 
 tities of matter, in which we are very nearly interested; 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 gen- 
 eral observation leads us on to the following ones. 
 
 First, That we have no way of determining by experience, 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 ele- 
 mentary 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 though it should 
 not be absolutely indiscerptible. 
 
 Secondly, From our being so nearly related to and interested in 
 certain systems of matter, suppose our flesh and bones, and after- 
 wards ceasing to be at all related to them, the living agents our- 
 selves remaining all this while undestroyed, notwithstanding such al- 
 ienation; and consequently these systems of matter not being our- 
 selves, it follows further, that we have no ground to conclude anj 
 other, suppose internal 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 sys- 
 tems 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, according 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 common established law of na- 
 ture, death, why may we not also remain the same? That the alienation 
 has lieen gradual in one case, and in the other will be more at once, 
 does not prove any thing to the contrary. We have passed unde- 
 stroyed through those many and great revolutions of matter, so pe- 
 culiarly appropriated to us ourselves; why should we imagine death 
 will be so fatal to us.** Nor can it be objected, that what is thus alien- 
 ated or lost, is no part of our original solid body, but only adventitious 
 matter; because we may lose entire limbs, which must have contain- 
 ed 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 dis- 
 solved 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 
 
 * See DJsseitation % 
 G 
 
50 OJ a Future Life. Faut L 
 
 body. But after all, the relation a person 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 the body 
 mutually aftect each other? And the same thing in kind, though not 
 in degree, may be said of all foreign matter, wliich gives us ideas, 
 and which we have any power over. From these observations, the 
 whole ground of the imagination is removed, that the dissolution of 
 any matter is the destruction of a living agent from the interest he 
 once had in such matter. 
 
 Thirdly^ if we consider our body somewhat more distinctly, as made 
 uporor'^ins and instruments of perception and of motion, it will bring 
 us to tlie same 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; andour feeling distant sol- 
 id matter by'means of somewhat in our hand, seems an instance of the 
 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 instrumen- 
 tal in preparing objects for, and conveying them to the perceiving 
 power, in a manner similar or like to the manner in which our or- 
 gans of sense prepare and convey them. Both are in a like way in- 
 struments of our receiving such ideas from external objects, as the 
 Author of nature appointed those external objects 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 objects for 
 and conveying them towards the perceiving 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 intended, 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 perceiving; but that so far as it 
 can be traced, by experimental observations, so far it appears, that 
 our organs of sense prepare and convey on objects, in order to their 
 being perceived, in like manner as foreign matter does, without afford- 
 ing any shadow of appearance that they themselves perceive. And that 
 we have no reason to think our organs of sense percipients, is con- 
 firmed by instances of persons losing some of them, the living beings 
 themselves, their former occupiers, remaining unimpaired. It is con- 
 fumed also by the experience of dreams; by which we find we are at 
 present possessed of a latent, and what would otherwise be, an un- 
 imagined, 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 destruction of a limb, this active pow- 
 er remains, as it evidently seems, unlessened; so as that the living 
 being, who has suffered this loss, would be capable of moving as be- 
 fore, 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 leaver, to reach 
 
Chap. I. Of a Future Life. ji 
 
 towards itself, and to move things, beyond the length 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 mucii as any appearance of our limbs being 
 endued with a power of moving or directing themselves, though they 
 are adapted, like the several parts of a machine, to be the instru- 
 ments 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 de- 
 termine in these cases, than'the microscope and the staff'. Nor is 
 there any ground to think they any more put the determination 
 in practice; 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 organs of sense and our limbs are certain- 
 ly 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 may have any other kind of relation 
 to them, than what we have to any other foreign matter formed into 
 instruments of perception and motion, suppose into a microscope or 
 a staff; (I say any another kind of relation, for I am not speaking 
 of the degree of it) nor consequently is there any probability, that 
 the alienation or dissolution of these instruments is the destruction 
 of the perceiving and moving agent. 
 
 And thus our finding, that the dissolution of matter, in which liv- 
 ing beings were most nearly interested, is not their dissolution, and 
 that the destruction of several of the organs and instruments of per- 
 ception and of motion belonging to them, is not their destruction, 
 shows demonstratively, that there is no ground to think that the dis- 
 solution 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 dis- 
 solved by death. 
 
 But it is said these observations are equally applicable to brutes; 
 and it is thought an insuperable difficulty, that they should be immor- 
 tal, and by consequence capable of everlasting happiness. Now this 
 manner of expression is both invidious and weak; but the thing in- 
 tended by it, is really no difficulty at all, either in the way of natural 
 or moral consideration. For first, 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 immortality of brutes; namely, that 
 they must arrive at great attainments, and become rational and mor- 
 al 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 experience, as great presumption against human crea- 
 tures, as there is against the brute creatures, arriving at tiiat degree 
 of understanding, which we have in mature 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 capaci- 
 ties of virtue and religion, should be placed in a condition of beingj 
 
Sfe Of a Future Life. Part I. 
 
 in which they are altogether without the use of them, for a consider- 
 able length of their duration; as infancy and childhood. And great 
 part of the human species go out of the present world, before they 
 come to the exercise of these capacities in any degree at all. But 
 then, secondly, the natural immortality of brutes does not in the 
 least imply, that they are endued with any latent capacities of a ra- 
 tional or moral nature. And the economy of the universe might re- 
 quire, that there should be living 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 fctunded in our igno- 
 rance, 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 ob- 
 jection which is so rhetorically urged against the greatest pat of the 
 natural proofs or presumptions of the immortality of human mindsj 
 I say the greatest part; for it is less applicable to the following ob- 
 servation, which is more peculiar to mankind: 
 
 III. That as it is evident our present powers and capacities of rea- 
 son, 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 present powers of reHection, 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 percep- 
 tion, greatly different from each other: each of which had its own pe- 
 culiar 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 
 perceive 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 
 js 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 condition of being, our external organs of 
 sense are necessary for conveying in ideas to our reflecting powers 
 as carriages and leavers and scaffolds arc in architecture; 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 
 Ironi our senses; and without any at all, which we know of, from 
 that body which will be dissolved hy 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 enjoynieuts or suf- 
 ferings: nor, consequently, that the dissolution or alienation of the 
 former by death, will be the destruction of those present powers, 
 which render us capable oJ" this state of reflection. Farther, there 
 are instances of mortal diseases, which do not at all affect our pres- 
 ent intellectual powers; and this affords a presumption, that those 
 disease'^ will not destroy these present powers. Indeed, froir^ 
 
Chap. I. Of a Future Life. SS 
 
 the observations made above,* it appears, that there is no pre- 
 sumption, from their mutually affecting each other, that the dis- 
 solution 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 disso- 
 lution of the body is the destruction of our present reflecting pow- 
 ers; but instances of their not affecting each other, afford a presump- 
 tion of the contrary. Instances of mortal diseases not impairing our 
 present reflecting powers, evidently turn our thoughts even from im- 
 agining such diseases to be the destruction of them. Several things 
 indeed greatly affect all our living powers, and at length suspend 
 the exercise of them; as for instance drowsiness, increasing till it 
 ends 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 it 
 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, persons the moment before death appear to be 
 in the highest vigor of life; they discover apprehension, memory, 
 reason, all entire; with the utmost force of affection; sense of a char- 
 acter, of shame and honor; and the highest mental enjoyments and 
 sufferings, even to the last gasp: and these surely prove even greater 
 vigor of life than bodily strength does: Now what pretence is there 
 for thinking, that a progressive disease when arrived to such a de- 
 gree, 1 mean that degree which is mortal, will destroy those powers 
 which were not impaired, which were not affected 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 fur- 
 ther; and there appears so little connexion between our bodily pow- 
 ers 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 con- 
 tinuing to exist in the like state of reflection which we do now. Foi 
 suspension 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 experiencing these powers to be exercised, without 
 any assistance; that we know of, from tliose bodies, which will be 
 dissolved by death; and our flndiog 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 discontinuance of the 
 exercise of these powers, nor of the enjoyments and sufferings which 
 it implies.! So that our posthumous life, whatever there may be in 
 it additional to our present, yet may not be entirely beginning anew, 
 
 • p. 49, 50. 
 j- There are three distinct questions, relating to a future lite, here considered: — 
 whether death be the destruction ot living agents; if not, whether it be the destruc 
 lion ot their present powers of reflection, as it certainly is the destruction of their pres- 
 ent powers of sensation; and if not, whether it be the supension, or discontinuance of the 
 exercise, of these present reflecting powers. Nt)w, 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. 
 
i4 Of a Future Life. Part I. 
 
 but going on. Death may, in some sort, and in some respects, an- 
 swer to our birtlij which is not a suspension of the faculties which 
 we had before 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 what we know of ourselves, of our present 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 perception and of ac- 
 tion may be much greater than at present. For as our relation to our 
 external organs of sense renders us capable of existing in our present 
 state of sensation, so it may be the only natural hindrance to our ex- 
 isting, immediately and of course, in a higher state of reflection. The 
 truth is, reason does not at all shew us in what state death naturally 
 leaves us. But were we sure that it would suspend all our percep- 
 tive and active powers, yet the suspension of a power and the de- 
 struction of it are effects so totally different in kind, as we experi- 
 ence from sleep and a swoon, that we cannot in any wise argue from 
 one to the other, or conclude, even to the lowest degree of probabil- 
 ity, that the same kind of force which is sufficient to suspend our fac- 
 ulties, though it be increased ever so much, will be sufficient to de- 
 stroy them. 
 
 These observations together may be sufficient to shew, how little 
 presumption there is, that death is the destruction of human crea- 
 tures. However, there is the shadow of analogy which may lead us 
 to imagine it is; the supposed likeness which is observed between the 
 decay of vegetables; and of 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 present life. But in 
 reason, the analogy is so far from holding, that there appears no 
 ground even for the comparision, 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 vegetable is an event 
 not similar or analagous 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 con- 
 fine ourselves to what we do know and understand, if we would ar- 
 gue only from that, and from that form our expectations, it would ap- 
 pear at first sight, that as no probability of living beings ever ceas- 
 ing to be so, can be concluded from the reason of the thing, so 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 liv- 
 
 * This, according to Strabo, wsiS the opinion of the Braehmans, 
 
 9'etvxTov, ■y)vi(rtv tJi to> ovrwi jS/ov, y-x) rot ii)^'.<-tu.ovee Toii (ptMTO^rtO'ot.iri . 
 Lib. XV, p. 1039. Ed. Amst. 1707. Tx) which opinion perhaps Anto- 
 ninus may allude in these words, am vuv -is-e^if/.ivsi^, ttoti 'if*.tovo]i Ik t^s 
 
 e-H Ttt h.6r^H Tssra iKTn.a-i'trctt, Lib. IX, C. 3. 
 
L Chap. I. Of a Future Life. 55 
 
 idg persons, what we are to go upon is, that we shall continue so, 
 until we foresee some accident or event which will endanger those 
 capacities, or be likely to destroy us; which death does in no wise 
 appear to be. 
 
 And thus, when we go out of this world, \\t 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 so- 
 cial one. And the advantages of it, advantages of every kind, may 
 naturally be bestowed, according to some fixed general laws of wis- 
 dom, upon every one in proportion 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 measure 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 there being distributed hereby the instrumental- 
 ity of men. And indeed, though one were to allow any confused 
 undetermined sense, which people please to put upon the word natu- 
 ral, 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 prese»t; especially whilst the probability of a future life, or the 
 natural immortality of the soul, is admitted 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 on- 
 ly distinct meaning of that word is stated, fixed, or settled; since 
 what is natural, as much requires and presupposes an intelligent 
 agent to render it so, i. e. 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 follow, that persons' notion of what is lAfural, 
 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 supposing, that there may be beings in the uni- 
 verse, whose capacities, and knowledge, and views, may be so ex- 
 tensive, as that the whole christian dispensation may to them appear 
 natural, i. e. 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 reconcileable 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 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 reli- 
 gion. And the foregoing observations remove all presumptions of 
 that sort, and prove, to a very considerable degree of probability, 
 one fundamental doctrine of religion; which, if believed, would 
 greatly open and dispose the mind seriously to attend to the general 
 evidence of the whole. 
 
56 Of the Government of God. Pari L 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Of the Government of God by Rewards and Punishments^ and par* 
 ticularly of the latter. 
 
 THAT 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 impor- 
 tance to us, is the supposition of our happiness and misery hereafter 
 depending upon our actions here. Without this, indeed, curiosity 
 90uld not but sometimes bring a subject, in which we may be so high- 
 ly interested, to our thoughts; especially upon the mortality of oth- 
 ers, or the near prospect of our own. But reasonable men would 
 not take any farther thought about hereafter, than what should hap- 
 pen thus occasionally to rise in their minds, if it were certain that 
 our future interest no way depended upon our present behavior; 
 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 ac- 
 tive 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 appre- 
 hend 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 that presumptive one which the foregoing observations 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 consequences. 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 preser- 
 ved,and without which, he has appointed they shall not be preserved at 
 all. And in general we foresee that the external things, which are the: 
 objects of our various passions, 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. Ami by 
 prudence and care we may, for the most part, pass our days in tolera- 
 ble ease and quiet; or, on the contrary, we may by rashness, ungov- 
 erned passion, wilfulness, or even by negligence, make ourselves as 
 miserable as ever we please. And many do please to make themselves 
 
Chap. ir. hy Rewards and Punishments. 5? 
 
 extremely miserable, i. e. to do what they know befdre-hand will ren- 
 der 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 observes to be 
 the general course of things; though it is to be allowed, we cannot 
 Und by experience, that all our sufferings are owing to our owji fol- 
 lies. 
 
 Why the author of nature does not give his creatures promiscuous- 
 ly such and such perceptions, without regard to their behavior; why 
 he does not make them happy without the instrumentality of their 
 - own actions, and prevent their bringing any sufferings upon them- 
 selves, is another matter. Perhaps there may be some impossibili- 
 ties in the nature of things, which we are acquainted with. Or less 
 happiness, it may be, would upon the whole be produced by such a 
 method of conduct, than is by the present. Or perhaps divine good- 
 ness, 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. Per- 
 haps an infinitely perfect mind may be pleased with seeing his crea- 
 tures 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 ih to himself; that relation to himself, which, dur- 
 ing their existence, is even necessary, and which is the most impor- 
 tant one of all. Perhaps, I say, an infinitely perfect mind may be 
 pleased with this moral piety of moral agents, in and for itself; a? 
 well as upon account of its being essentially conducive to the happi- 
 ness of his creation. Or the whole end, for which God niade, and 
 thus governs the world, may be utterly beyond the reach of our fac- 
 ulties; 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 colors. 
 But however this be, it is certain matter of universal experience, 
 that the general method of divine administration is forewarning 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 1 am observing. It is to be as- 
 cribed to the general course of nature; i. e. 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 operation, from its uniformity or con- 
 stancy, called natural;* and which necessarily implies an operating 
 agent. For when men find themselves necessitated to confess an 
 Author of nature, or that God is the natural Governor ot the world, 
 they must not deny this again, because his government is uniform; 
 they must not deny that he does 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 ftvery thing he does, naturally acts upon the 
 forethought and apprehension of avoiding evil or obtaining gooil; antj, 
 
 " P. 55 
 
 H 
 
5B iJf the Government of God ^^ Part K 
 
 if the natural course of things be the appointment of God, and our 
 natural faculties of knowledge and experience are given us by him, 
 then the good and bad consequences which fullow our actions are his 
 appointment, and our foresight 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 ourselveji 
 in every such particular instance, and as a reward to us for so doing?" 
 No certainly. Nor is it to be said, that our eyes were naturally in- 
 tended to give us the sight of each particular object, to which they 
 do or can extend; objects which are destructive of them, or whicn, 
 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 consequence of our acting in one manner, and pain and un- 
 easiness 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 proper sense; in such 
 a sense, as that he rewards and punishes us for our actions. An Au- 
 thor of nature being supposed, it is not so much a deduction of rea- 
 son as a matter of experience, that we are thus under his government; 
 under his government in the same sense as we are under the govern- 
 ment of civil 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 beforehand to those whom it concerns, is 
 the proper formal notion of government. Whether the pleasure or 
 pain which thus follows upon our behavior be owing to the Author of 
 nature's acting upon us every moment which we feel it, or to his hav- 
 ing 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 interposing 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 govern- 
 ment then, as we are now, but in a much higher degree, and more 
 perfect manner. Vain is the ridicule, with which one foresees some 
 persons will divert themselves, upon finding lesser pains considered 
 as instances of divine punishment. There is no possibility of an- 
 swering or evading the general thing here intended, without denying 
 all final causes. For final causes being admitted, 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 unea- 
 siness to others, with an apparent design to induce us to act so and 
 so, then he not only dispenses happiness and misery, but also rewards 
 and punishes actions. If, for example, the pain which we feel, upon 
 doing what tends to the destruction of our bodies, suppose upon 
 
Cha?. II. hjf Punishments. 59. 
 
 too near approaches to fire, or upon wounding ourselves, be appoint- 
 ed by the Author of nature to prevent our doing what thus tends to 
 our destruction, this is altogether as much an instance of his punish- 
 ing our actions, and consequently of our being under his government, 
 as declaring by a voice from heaven that if we acted so, he would 
 inflict 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 governor, prior to the consideration of 
 his moral attributes. The fact of our case, which we find by expe- 
 rience, is, that he actually exercises dominion or government over 
 US at present, by rewarding and punishing us for our actions, in as 
 strict and proper a sense of these words, and even in the same suiset 
 as children, servants, subjects, are rewarded and punished 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 religion, 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 na- 
 ture is a present instance of his exercising that government over us, 
 which implies in it rewarding and punishing. 
 
 BUT a*^ divine punishment is what men chiefly object against, 
 and are most unwilling to allow, it may be proper to mention some 
 circumstances in the natural course of punishments at present, 
 which are analogous to what religion teaches os concerning a future 
 state of punishments; indeed so analogous, that as they add a farther 
 credibility to it, so they cannot but raise a most serious Stpprehen- 
 sion of it in those who will attend to them. 
 
 It has been observed, that 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 pun- 
 ishments 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 themselves by the^r own behavior, 
 which they might have foreseen aUd avoided. Now the circumstances 
 of these natural punishments particularly deserving our attention, are 
 such as these: that oftentimes they follow or lave inflicted in conse- 
 quence of actions, which procure many present advantages, and are 
 accompanied with much present pleasure; for instance, sickness and 
 untimely death is the consequence of intemperance, though accom- 
 panied with the highest mirth and jollity: that these punishments 
 are often much greater than the advantages or pleasures obtained by 
 the actions of \vhich they are the punishments or consequences: that 
 though we may imagine a constitution of nature, in which these nat- 
 ural punishments which are in fact to follow would follow, immedi- 
 ately upon such actions being done, or very soon after; we find on 
 
60 Of the (xoifernment oj^ God Part I. 
 
 the contrary in our world, that they are often dcfayed a great while, 
 sometimes even until long after the actions occasioning them are for- 
 got; so that the constitution of nature is such, that delay of punish- 
 ment is no sort nor degree of presumption of final impunity: that 
 after such delay, these natural punishments or miseries often come, 
 not b? degrees, but suddenly, with violence, and at once; however, 
 the chief misery often does: that as certainty of such distant mise-= 
 ry following such actions is never afforded persons, so perhaps during 
 the actions they have seldom a distinct full expectation of its follow- 
 ing;* and many times the case is only thus, that they see in general, 
 or may see, the credibility that intemperance, suppose, will bring af- 
 ter it diseases, civil crimes, civil punishments, when yet the real 
 probability otten is that they shall escape; but things notwithstand- 
 ing take their destined course, and the misery inevitably follows at 
 its appointed time, in very many of these cases. Thus also, though 
 youth may be alleged as an excuse for rashness and folly, as being 
 naturally thoughtless, and not clearly foreseeing all the consequences 
 of being untractable and profligate, this does not hinder, but that these 
 consequences follow, and are grievously felt throughout the whole 
 course of mature life. Habits contracted even in that age are often 
 utter ruin; and men's success in the world, not only in the common 
 sense of worldly success, but their real happiness and misery de- 
 pends, in a great degree, and in various ways, upon the manner in 
 which they pass their youth; which consequences they for the most 
 part neglect to consider, and perhaps seldom can properly be said to 
 believe, beforehand. It requires also to be mentioned, that in num- 
 berless 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 opportunity 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 at- 
 tainingo If the husbandman lets his seed time pass without sowing, 
 the whole year is lost to him beyond recovery. In like manner, 
 though afler men have been guilty of folly and extravagance up to a 
 certain degree, it is often in their power, for instance, to retrieve 
 their affairs* to recover their heakh and character, at least in good 
 measure; yet real reformation ,is, in many cases, of no avail at all 
 towards preventing the miseries, poverty, sickness, infamy, naturally 
 annexed to folly and extravagance exceeding that degree. There is 
 a certain bound to imprudence and misbehavior, whicii being trans- 
 gressed, there remains no place for repentance in the natural course 
 of things. It is fjjrther very much to be remarked, that neglects 
 from inconsiderateness, want of attention,! not looking about us to 
 dce what we have to do, are often attended with consequences alto- 
 gether as dreadful as any active misbehavior, from the most extrava- 
 gant passion. And lastly, civil government being natural, the pun- 
 ishments of it are so too: ajid some of tiiese punishments .ire capital, 
 .19 the itffcts of a dissolute course of pleasure are often mortal. So tha|; 
 
 * 5c:i- Tart IL C: , Poll II. Chap vi. 
 
Chap. IL hy Punishments, 04 
 
 many natural punisihinents are final*to him who incurs them, if consid- 
 ered only in his temporal capacity; and seem inflicted by natural ap- 
 pointment, either to remove the offender out of the way of being further 
 mischievous; or as an example, though frequently a disregarded one, 
 to those who are left behind. 
 
 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 
 governs the world, in the natural course of his providence. And 
 they are so analogous to what religion teaches us concerning the 
 future punishment of the wicked, so much of a piece with it, that 
 both would naturally be expiessed in the very same words and man- 
 ner of description. In the book of Proyer6s,t for instance, wisdom 
 is introduced as frequenting tiit most public places of resort, and as 
 rejected when she offers herseli as the natural appointed guide of 
 human life Huw longi spea'ving to those who are passing through 
 it, how long, ye simp'e cn-'is- ivill ye love folly, and the seorners 
 delight in their scojnh-^^' and fools hate knowledge? Turn ye at my 
 reproof BeKoliu I ^vill vmir out my Spirit upon you, I will make 
 known my words unih you- Hut upon being neglected, Because I 
 have called, and ye refuseil, I have stretched out my hand, and no 
 jtian regarded; but ye have set at nought all my counsel, and would 
 none of my reproof: I also will laugh at your calamity, I will mock 
 tchen your fear Cometh ; when your fear cometh as desolation, and 
 your destruction comeih as a whirlwind; when distress and anguish 
 cometh upon you. Tlien 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 poeUcal, and some parts of it are highly 
 figurative: but their mpjtniug is obvious. And the thing intended is 
 expressed more literally in the fol'owing 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 pros- 
 perity of fools shall destroy them. And the whole passage is so 
 equally applicable to what we experience in the present world con- 
 cerning the consequences of men's actions, and to what religion 
 teaches us is to be expected in another, that it may be questioned 
 which of the two was principally intended. 
 
 * The geaeral considei-ation of a future state of ponishment, most evidently belongs 
 to .the subject of natural religion. But if any of these reflections should be thought to 
 relate more particularly to this doctrine, as taught in scripture, the reader is' desired 
 to ohserve that gentile writers, botli moralists and poets, speak of the future punish. 
 ment of the wicked, both as to the duration and degree of it, in a like manner of ex- 
 pression and ot description as the scripture does. So that all which can positively be 
 asserted to be matter of mere revelation, with regard to this doctrine, seems to bt-, 
 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 lile and being, before that distributive justice should finally and effect- 
 ually take place. Revelation teaches us, tliat the next state of things afier the present: 
 is appointed for the execution of this justice, that it shall be no longer delayed; but the 
 mystery of God, the great mystery of his suffering vice and confusion to prevail, shaU 
 then be finished; and he will'take to him his great power arid will jejgn, by rendering 
 to erery one accorduig to his works. 
 " ' t Chap. i. 
 
tia Of the Government of God, Sfe. Part L' 
 
 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 apprehension of the latter, or representation of it 
 to the mind; as observing, that after the many disregarded checks, 
 admonitions and warnings, which people meet with in the ways of 
 ▼ice and folly and extravagance; warnings from their very nature; 
 from the examples of others; from the lesser inconveniences which 
 they bring upon themselves; from the instructions pf wise and virtu- 
 ous 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 
 desperate, and poverty and sickness, remorse and anguish, infamy 
 and death, the effects of their own doings, overwhelm them, beyond 
 possibility of remedy 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: sufiicient to show what 
 the laws of the universe may admit, and, if thoroughly considered, 
 sufficient fully 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 obje«tions of another sort, from necessity, 
 from suppositions that the will of an infinite being cannot be contra- 
 dicted, or that he must be incapable of oflence and provocation.* 
 
 Reflections of this kind are not without their terrors to serfous 
 persons, the most free from enthusiasm, and of the greatest strength 
 of mind; but it is fit things be stated and considered as they really 
 are. And there is, in the present age, a certain fearlessness, with 
 regard to what may be hereafter under the government of God, which 
 nothing but an universally acknowledged demonstration on the side 
 of atheism can justify; and which makes it qu jte necessary, that men 
 be reminded, and if possible made to feel, that there is no sort of 
 ground for being thus presumptuous, even upon the most sceptical 
 principles. For, may it not be sajd 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 example of the woful effects of vice and folly? 
 That he may, as any one may, if he will, incur an infamous exeeution 
 from the hands of civil justice; or in some other course of extrava- 
 gance shorten his days; or bring upon himself infamy and diseases 
 worse than death? So that it had been better for him, even with 
 regard to the present world, that he had never been born. And is 
 there any pretence of reason, for people to think themselves secure, 
 and talk as if they had certain proof, that let them act as licentiously 
 as they will, there can be nothing analogous to this, with regard to 
 a future and more general interest, under the providence and gov* 
 ernment of the same God? 
 
 * See Chap, iv, and vi. 
 
Chap. III. Of Moral Government. 65 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 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 oi pleasure and pain distributed 
 amongst his creatures, prove that they are under his government; 
 what may be called his natural government of creatures endued witU 
 sense and reason. This, however, implies somewhat more than 
 seems usually attended to, when we speak of God's natural govern- 
 ment of the world. It implies government of the very same kind 
 with that, which a roaster exercises over his servants, or a civil mag- 
 istrate over his subjects. These latter instances of final causes as 
 really prove an intelligent Governor of the world, in the sense now 
 mentioned, and before* distinctly treated of, as any other instances 
 of final causes prove an intelligent Maker of it. 
 
 But this alone does not appear at first sight to determine any* 
 thing certainly, concerning t^e moral character of the author of 
 nature, considered in this relation of governor; does not ascertain 
 his government to be moral, or prove that he is the righteous Judge 
 of the world. Moral government consists, not barely in rewarding 
 and punishing men for their actions, which the most tyrannical per- 
 son may do; but in rewarding the righteous and punishing the wicked,' 
 in rendering to men according to their actions, considered as good 
 or evil. And the perfection or moral government consists in doing- 
 this, with regard to all intelligent creatures, in an exact proportioa' 
 to their personal merits or demerits. 
 
 Some 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 regard to persons' behaviour,' 
 otherwise than as such regard would produce higher degrees of it. 
 And supposing this to be the only character of God, veracity and 
 justice m him would be nothing but benevolence conducted by wisf 
 dora. No<f surely this ought not to be asserted, unless it can b^ 
 proved; for we should speak with cautious reverence upon such H 
 subject. And whether it can be proved or not, is not the thing here 
 to be inquired into; but whether in the constitution and conduct of 
 tlie^world a righteous government be not discernibly planned out; 
 which necessarily implies a righteous Governor. There may possi- 
 bly be in the creation beings, to whom the author of nature manifests 
 himself under this most amiable of all characters, this of infinite abso- 
 
 * Chap. ii. 
 
64 PftheJioral Part I. 
 
 lute benevolence; for It is the most amiable, supposing it not, as 
 perhaps it is not, incompatible with justice; but he manifests himself 
 to us under the character of a righteous Governor. He may, con- 
 sistently with this, be simply and absolutely benevolent, in the sense 
 now explained; buthe is, for he has given us a proof in the constitu- 
 tion and conduct of the world that he is, a governor over servants, as 
 he rewards and punishes us for our actions. And in the constitution 
 and conduct of it, he may also have given, besides the reason of the 
 thing, and the natural presages of conscience, clear and distinct inti- 
 mations that his government is righteous or moral; clear to such as 
 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 appre- 
 hension that it shall be completed, or carried on to that degree of 
 perfection which religion teaches us it shall; but which cannot ap- 
 pear, till much more of the divine administration be seen, than can 
 in the present life. And the design of this chapter is to inquire, how 
 far this is the case; how far, over and above the moral nature! which 
 God has given us, and our natural notion of him as righteous Gov- 
 ernor of those his creatures, to whom he has given this nature; I say 
 how far besides this, the principles and beginnings of a moral govern- 
 ment over the world may be discerned, notwithstanding and amidst 
 all the confusion and disorder of it. 
 
 Now one might mention here, what has been often urged with 
 great force, that in general less uneasiness and more satisfaction are 
 the natural consequences:^ of a virtuous than of a vicious course of 
 life, in the present state, as an instance of a moral government estab- 
 lished in nature; an instance of it, collected from experience and 
 present matter of fact. But it must be owned a thing of difficulty tQ 
 weigh and balance pleasures and uneasinesses, each amongst them- 
 selves, and also against each other, so as to make an estimate, with 
 any exactness, of the overplus of happiness on the side of virtue. 
 And it is not impossible, that, amidst the infinite disorders of the 
 world, there may be exceptions to the happiness of virtue, even with 
 regard to those persons whose course of life, from their youth up, has 
 been blameless; and more with regard to those who have gone on 
 for some time in tlie ways of vice, and have afterwards refornied. 
 For suppose an instance of the latter case; a person with bis passions 
 inflamed, his natural faculty of self-government impaired by habits 
 
 * The ohjertions against religion, from the evidence of it not being universal, nor so 
 strong as might possibly have been, may be tirgeil against naturnl religion, as well as 
 against revealed; and therefore the consideration of them belongs to the first part of 
 this treatise, as wcW as the second. But as th<-se objections are chiefly ui-ged against 
 revealed religion, ( chose to consider them in the second part. And the answer to 
 them there, Chap. vi. as urged agtVmst Christianity, being almost equally applicable to 
 them as urged against the religion of nature; to avoid repetition, the reader is releiTod 
 to that chapter. 
 
 T Dissf rtation 11. t Soe Lord Shaftsbnry 's Inquirr concecning Virtue, Part II. 
 
Chap. III. Government of God. 6^ 
 
 of indulgence, and with all his vices about him, like so many harpies, 
 craving for their accustomed gratifications, who can say how long it 
 might be, before such a person would find more satisfaction in the rea- 
 sonableness 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 themselves to be without principle, and avowing evea 
 direct villany, they can support themselves against the infamy of it. 
 But as the ill actions of any one will probable 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 
 honor is recovered. Uneasinesses 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 moral 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 under the 
 character of a governor, in the sense explained,* it must deserve to 
 be considered, whether 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 method of rewards and punish- 
 ments, 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 vi- 
 ciously? since rendering men happy or miserable by this rule, cer- 
 tainly, falls in, much more falls in, with our natural apprehensions 
 and sense of things, than doing so by any other rule whatever; since 
 rewarding and punishing 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 expec- 
 tation which it raises in us, that the righteous shall, upon the whole, 
 be happy, and the wicked miserable, cannot however possibly be con- 
 sidered as absurd or chimerical; because it is no more than an expec- 
 tation, that a method of government already begun, shall be carried 
 on, the method of rewarding and punishing actions; 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 distri- 
 butive justice. Nor, 
 
 II. Ought it to be entirely passed over, that tranquillity, satisfac- 
 tion, and external advantages, being the natural consequences of 
 prudent management of ourselves, and our afiairs; and rashness, 
 profligate negligence, and wilful folly, bringing after them many 
 inconveniences and sufferings; these afford instances of a right con- 
 stitution of nature; sfi the correction of children^ for their own sakes, 
 
 * Chap, ii. 
 
66 Of the Moral Part I. 
 
 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 implies some sort of 
 moral government; since from such a constitution of things it cannot 
 but follow, that prudence and imprudence, which are of the nature of 
 virtue and vice,* must be, as they are, respectively 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 decla- 
 ration of nature against them. It 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 punishment 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 on by the instrumentality 
 of men, tlie observation here made amounts to this, that mankind 
 find themselves 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 ill 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, consid- 
 ered as beneficial to society, nor ill actions rewarded, under the 
 view of their being hurtful 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 mis- 
 chievous to society, should be punished, and put mankind under a 
 necessity of thus punishing them, as he has directed and necessitated 
 us to preserve our lives by food. 
 
 IV. In the natural course of things, virtue as such is actually re- 
 warded, 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 per- 
 fection of degree, which religion teaches us to expect. In order to 
 see this more clearly, we must distinguish between actions themselves, 
 and that quality ascribed to them, which we call virtuods or vicious. 
 The gratification itself of every natural passion, must be attended 
 
 * See Dissertation U. 
 
Chap. III. Oovernment of God. 6T 
 
 with delight; and acquisitions of fortune, however made, are acqui- 
 sitions of the means or materials of enjoyment. An action then, by 
 which any natural passion is gratifie<l, or fortune acquired, procures 
 delight or advantage, abstracted from all consideration of the mo- 
 rality of such action. Consequently, the pleasure or advantage 
 in this case is gained hy 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 behavior 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 behavior. In 
 one case, an action, abstracted from all moral consideration, produc- 
 ed 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 conside- 
 ration, i. e. the virtuousness or viciousness of it, produced the effect. 
 Now I say, virtue? as such, naturally procures considerable advan- 
 tages to the virtuous, and vice, as such, naturally occasions great in- 
 convenience and even misery to the vicious, in very many instances. 
 The immediate 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 uneasiness, and, not uncommonly, with 
 great disturbance and apprehension. That inward feeling, which 
 respecting lesser matters, and in familiar speech, we oall being vexed 
 with oneself, and in matters of importance and in more serious lan- 
 guage, remorse, is an uneasiness naturally arising from an action of a 
 man's own, reflected upon by himself as wrong, unreasonable, faulty, 
 i. e. vicious in greater or less degrees; and this manifestly is a differ- 
 ent 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 adding, — but however he has the satisfac- 
 tion 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 injury, arise from a sense of his being blameworthy; other- 
 wise 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 tlie exercise, the real exercise, of gratitude, friend- 
 ship, benevolence. 
 
 And here, I think, ought to be mentioned, the fears of future pun- 
 ishment, and peaceful hopes of a better life, in those who fully be- 
 lieve, or have any serious apprehension of religion, because these 
 hopes and fears are present uneasiness and satisfaction to the mind; 
 ^nd cannot be got rid of by great part of the world, even by men 
 who have thought most thoroughly upon the 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. 
 
 In the next place comes in the consideration, that all honest 
 and good men are disposed to befriend honest good men, 
 as such, and to discountenance the vicious, as such, and do so 
 
i( 0/ the Moral Part I. 
 
 in some degree, indeed in a considerable degree; from which fa- 
 vor and discouragement cannot but arise considerable advantage 
 and inconvenience. And though the generality of the world have 
 little regard to the morality of their own actions, and may be sup- 
 posed 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, some 
 how or other he will be favored, 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 hap- 
 pens to come in their way. Public honors too and advantages are 
 the natural consequences, are sometimes at least the consequences 
 in fact, of virtuous actions; of eminent justice, fidelity, charity, love 
 to our country, considered in the view of being virtuous. And some- 
 times 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 faulti- 
 uess, 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 themselves. So likewise even the 
 generality are, in some degree, grateful, and disposed to return good 
 offices, not merely because such an one has been the occasion of good 
 to them, but under the view, that such good offices implied kind at- 
 tention and good desert in the doer. To all this may be added two 
 or three particular things, v/hich many persons will think frivolous; 
 but to me nothing appears so, ivhich at all comes in towards deter- 
 mining 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 government, which is doubtless natural, chil- 
 dren 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 naturally' enforced by rewards and punishments, whether 
 more or less considerable in degrae: that, though civil government 
 he supposed to take cogr^izance of actions in no other view than as 
 prejudicial to society, 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 contributes, in diff'erent ways, to 
 bring oftenders to justice; and, that entire absence of all crime and 
 guilt in the moral sense, when plainly appearing, will almost of course 
 procure, acd circumstances of aggravated guilt prevent, a remission 
 of the penalties annexed to civii 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 the approbation and disapprobation of them, 
 as such, in others. The sense of well and ill doing, the presages of 
 conscience, the love of good characters and dislike of bad ones, honor^ 
 shame, resentment, gratitude; all these, considered in themselves^ 
 
Chap. III. Government of God. 69 
 
 and in their effects, io a^! .0 manifest real instances of virtue, as 
 such, naturally favored, i -I vice as such, discountenanced, more 
 or less, in the daily course - : human life: in every age, in every relation, 
 in every genera' ; ircunri« uice of It. That God has given us a moral 
 nature,* may most justly be urged as a proof ©four being under his mo- 
 ral governaierit. but f.cit l>f Ims placed us in a condition, which gives 
 tkis nature, as oo« may speak, scope to operate, and in which it does 
 unavoidably opf^rtiie. i> e. influence mankind to act, so as thus to 
 favor ana leward vii<ue. and disiountenance and punish vice — this 
 is not the same, but a further additional proof of his moral govern- 
 ment, for it is an i itance of it. The first is a proof that he will finally 
 favor and support virtue eiFxtually; the second is an example of his 
 favoring and su;ipyriiiti»; it at present, in some degree. 
 
 If a more distitict icqu;r\ b«? made, whence it arises that virtue, as 
 such, is often ••^ • urded. aid vice, iS such, is punished, and this rule 
 never invctte — it will be fimiid to proceed, in part, immediately 
 from the m-^a' narure itself, which God has given us; and also, 
 in part, froci his having given us, together vvith this nature, so great 
 a power o,>*r each other's happiness and misery. For first, it is 
 certain th... pejce and delight, in some degree and upon some occa- 
 sions, i= the oeressary and present effect of virtuous practice; an 
 effect arismg immediately from that constitution of our nature. 
 We are so made, that well doing, as such, gives us satisfaction 
 at east in some instances; ill doing, as such, in none. And secondly, 
 frf'ia our moral nature, joined with God's having put our happiness 
 and misefy 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 in- 
 famous, 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 punish- 
 ment, which mankind 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 con- 
 tradictory, 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 
 vericity, justice, charity, in themselves; 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 approbation 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 alh btt supposing there be,) it is evidently 
 monstrous; as much so as the most acknowledged 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 condition, in the respects now 
 described, that vice cannot at all be, and virtue cannot but be favored, 
 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 thus distinguished, but only the thing itself, that 
 they ;;re so in some degree, though the whole good and bad effect of 
 virtue and vice, as such, is not inconsiderable in degree. But that 
 they must be thus distinguished in some degree, is in a manner ne- 
 * See Dissertation 11, 
 
7^ Of the Moral Part I. 
 
 cessary; it is matter of fact of daily experience, ^ven in the greatest 
 confusion of human affairs. 
 
 It is not pretended but that in the natural course of things, happi- 
 ness and misery appear to be distributed 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 lawg, 
 from whence such promiscuous distribution perhaps must follow, and 
 also why our happiness and misery should be put in each other's 
 power in the degree which they are. And these things, as in general 
 they contribute to the rewarding virtue and punishing vice, as such, 
 so they often contribute also, not to the inversion of this, which is 
 impossible, but to the rendering persons prosperous, though wicked; 
 afflicted, though righteous; and, which is worse, to the rewarding 
 some actions, though vicious, and punishing other actions^ though vir- 
 tuous. But all this cannot drown the voice of nature in the conduct 
 of Providence, plainly declaring itself for virtue, by way of distinc- 
 tion from vice, and preference to it. For, our being so constituted, 
 as that virtue and vice are thus naturally favored and discountenan- 
 ced, rewarded and punished respectively, as such, is an intuitive 
 proof of the intent of nature that it should be so; otherwise the con- 
 stitution 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 indeed these other and good purposes, even of every passion, 
 may be clearly seen. 
 
 We have then a declaration in some degree of present effect, from 
 him who is supreme in nature, which side he is of, or what part he 
 takes: a declaration for virtue, and against vice.* So far therefore as 
 a man is true to virtue, to veracity and justice, to equity and charity, 
 and the right of the case, in whatever he is concerned, so far he is on 
 the side of the divine administration, and cooperates with it; and 
 from hence, to such a man arises naturally a secret satisfaction and 
 sense of security, and iuiplicit hope of somewhat further. And, 
 
 V. This hope is confirmed by the necessary tendencies of virtue, 
 which, though not of present .effect, yet are at present discernible in 
 nature, and so afford an instance of so^^Bwhat moral in the essential 
 constitution of it. There is, in the nature of things, a tendency in 
 virtue and vice to produce the good and bad effects now mentioned 
 in a greater degree than they do in fact produce them. For instance; 
 good and bad men would be much more rewarded and punished, as 
 such, were it not that justice is often artificially eluded, that charac- 
 ters are not known, and many, who would thus favor virtue and dis- 
 courage vice, are hindered from doing so by accidental causes. 
 These tendencies of virtue and vice are obvious with regard to indi- 
 viduals. But it may require more particularly to be considered, that 
 power is a society, by being under the direction of virtue, naturally 
 increases, and has a necessary tendency to prevail over opposite 
 
Chap. III. Government of God. 71 
 
 power, not under the 'direction of it; in like mani^er as power, by 
 being under the direction of reason, increases, and has a tendency to 
 prevail over brute force. There are several brute creatures of equal, 
 and several of superior strength, to that of men, and possibly the 
 sum of the whole strength of brutes may be greater than that of 
 mankind; but reason gives us the advantage and superiority over 
 them, and thus man is the acknowledged governing animal upon the 
 earth. Nor is this superiority considered by any as accidental, but 
 as what reason has a tendency, in the nature of the thing, to obtain. 
 And yet perhaps difficulties may be raised about the meaning as 
 well as the triith of the assertion, that virtue has the like tendency. 
 To obviate these difficulties, let us see more distinctly how the 
 case stands with regard to reason, which is so readily acknowledged 
 to have this advantageous tendency. Suppose then two or three 
 men, of the best and most improved understanding, in a desolate 
 open plain, attacked by ten times the number of beasts of prey — 
 would their reason secure them the victory in this unequal combat? 
 Power then, though joined with reason, and under its direction, can- 
 not be expected to prevail over opposite power, though merely brutal, 
 unless the one bears some proportion to the other. Again — put the 
 imaginary case, that rational and irrational creatures were of like 
 «xternal shape and manner; it is certain, before there were opportu- 
 nities for the first to distinguish each other, to separate from their ad- 
 versaries, and to form an union among themselves, they might be up- 
 on 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 crea- 
 tures. Or suppose a number of men to land upon an island inhabit- 
 ed only by wild beasts, a number of men, who, by the regulations of 
 civil government, the inventions of art, and the experience 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 prevailing over brute force. Further 
 still — there are many instances of brutes succeeding in attempts 
 which they could not have undertaken had not their irrational nature 
 rendered them incapable of foreseeing the danger of such attempts, 
 or the fury of passion hindered their attending to it; and there are 
 instances of reason and real prudence preventing men's undertaking 
 what, it hath appeared afterwards, they might have succeeded in by 
 a lucky rashness. A.nd in certain conjunctures, ignorance and fol- 
 ly, weakness and discord, may have their advantages. So that ra- 
 tional animals have not necessarily the superiority over irrational 
 ones; but, how improbable soever it may be, it is evidently possible, 
 that, in some globes, the latter may be superior. And were the for- 
 mer wholly at variance and disunited, by false self interest and envy, 
 
m Of the Moral PautI. 
 
 by treachery and injustice, and consequent rage and malice against 
 each other, whilst the latter were firmly united among themselves by 
 instinct, this might greatly contribute to the introducing such an in- 
 verted order of things. For every one would consider it as inverted, 
 since 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 many concurring circumstances to ren- 
 der it prevalent. 
 
 Now I say, virtue in a society has a like tendency to procure 
 superiority and additional power, whether this power be considered 
 as the means of security frorn opposite power, or of obtaining other 
 advantages. And it has this tendency, by rendering public good an 
 object and end to every member of the society; by putting every one 
 upon consideration and diligence, recollection and self government, 
 both in order to see what is the most effectual method, and also in 
 order to perform their proper part for obtaining and preserving itj 
 by uniting a society within itself, and so increasing its strength; 
 and, which is particularly to be mentioned, uniting it by means of 
 veracity and justice. For as these last are principal bonds of union, 
 so benevolence or public spirit, undirected, unrestrained by them, is, 
 nobody knows what. 
 
 And suppose the invisible world, and the invisible dispensations of 
 Providence, to be in any sort analogous to what appears, or that both 
 together make up one uniform scheme, the two parts of which, the 
 part which we see, and that which is beyond our observation, are 
 analogous to each other, then there must be a like natural tendency 
 in the derived power, throughout the universe, under the direction 
 of virtue, to prevail in general over that which is not under its pro- 
 tection, as there is in reason, derived reason in the universe, to pre- 
 vail over brute force. But then, in order to the prevalence of virtue, 
 or that it may actually produce what it has a tendency to produce, 
 the like concurrences are necessary as are to the prevalence of rea- 
 son. There must be some proportion between the natural power or 
 force which is, and that which is not, under the direction of virtue; 
 there must be sufficient length of time; for the complete success of 
 virtue, as of reason, cannot, from the nature of the thing, be other- 
 wise than gradual; there must be, as one may speak, a fair field of 
 trial, a stage large and extensive enough, proper occasions and op- 
 portunities, for the virtuous to join together to exert themselves 
 against lawless force, and to reap the fruit of their united labors. 
 Now indeed it is to be hoped, that the disproportion between the 
 good and 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. However, 
 good men over the face of the earth cannot unite, as for other rea- 
 sons, 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 shortness of life, 
 denies to virtue its full scope in several other respects. The natural 
 tendency, which we have been considering, though real, is hindered 
 
Chap. III. Qovernment of God. 75 
 
 from being carried into effect in the present state; but these hin- 
 drances may be removed in a future one. Virtue, to borrow the 
 Christian allusion, is militant here, and various untowat-d 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, per- 
 haps unknown, perhaps 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 spere for the 
 natural consequences of it to follow in fact. If the soul be naturally 
 immortal, and this state be a progress towards a future One; as child- 
 hood is towards mature age, good men may naturally unite, not only 
 amongst themselves, but also with other orders of virtuous creatures, 
 in that future state. For virtue, from the.very nature of it, is a prin- 
 ciple and bond of union, in some degree, 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 favor 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 distant scenes and periods, and to be seen by any 
 orders of vicious creatures throughout the universal kingdom of God, 
 this happy effect of virtue would have a tendency, by way of exam- 
 ple, 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 pro- 
 portionably 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 without revelation; 
 for suppositions are not to be looked on as true, because not incredi- 
 ble, but they are mentioned to shew, that our finding virtue to be hin- 
 dered from procuring to itself such superiority and advantages is no 
 objection against its having, in the essential nature ot the thing, a 
 tendency to procure them. And the suppositions now mentioned 
 do plainly she.w this; for they shew that these hindrances are so far 
 from being necessary, that we ourselves can easily conceive how they 
 may be removed in future states, and full scope be granted to virtue. 
 And all these advantageous tendencies of it are to be considered as 
 declarations of God in its favour. This, however, is taking a pretty 
 large compass; though it is certain that, as the material world ap- 
 pears to be, in a manner, boundless and immense, there must be 
 some scheme of Providence vast in proportion to it. 
 
 But let us return to the earth our habitation, and we shall see this 
 happy tendency of virtue, by imagining an instance not so vast and 
 remote; by supposing a kingdom or society of men upon it, perfectly 
 virtuous, for a succession of many ages, to which, if you please may 
 be given a situation advantageous for universal monarchy. In such 
 a state there would be no such thing as faction; but men of the great- 
 est capacity would of course, all along, have the chief direction of 
 
74 Of the Moral Part I. 
 
 affairs willingly yielded to them: and they would share it among 
 themselves without envy. Each of these would have the part assigned 
 him to whicli his genius was peculiarly adapted; and others, whffhad 
 not any distinguished genius, would be safe, and think themselves 
 very iiappy, by being; under the protection and guidance of those who 
 had. Public determinations would really be the result of the united 
 wisdom of tliC community^ and they would faithfully be executed, by 
 thfc united strength of it. Some would in a higher way contribute, 
 but ail would in some way contribute, to the public prosperity; and 
 in it, each would enjoy the fruits of his own virtue. And as in jus- 
 tice, whether by fraud or force, would be unknown among them- 
 selves, so they would be sufficiently secured from it in their neigh- 
 bours: for cunniog and false self interest, confederacies in injustice, 
 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 inviola- 
 ble, 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 
 particularly, and the reverence which would be paid it. It would 
 planely 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 king- 
 doms submitting themselves voluntarily to it, throughout a course of 
 ages, and claiming its protection, one after another, in successive 
 exigencies. The head of it would be an universal monarch, in an- 
 other 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, shew the impossibility, 
 without some miraculous interposition, that a number of men, here 
 on earth, should unite in one society or government, in the fear of 
 God and universal 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 wonderful power and prosperity promised to the Jewish 
 nation in the scripture, would be, in a great measure, the consequence 
 of what is predicted of them — that the people should be all righteous 
 aud inherit the land for ever^* were we to understand the latter 
 phrase of a long continuance only, sufficient to give things time to 
 work. The predictions of this kind, for there are many of them, 
 t annot come to pass in the present known course of nature; but sup- 
 pose them come to pass, and then the dominion and preeminence 
 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 have the advantage and prevail over fraud and lawless 
 force, over the deceits as well as the violence of wickedness, un- 
 der the conduct of one supreme Governor; and from the observations 
 above made, it will appear, that God has, by our reason, givea us to 
 
 • Isaiah Ix. 21, 
 
Chap. III. Government of God, 75 
 
 see a peculiar connexion 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 considereji as somewhat m^ral in 
 the essential constitution of things. If any one should think all 
 this to be of little importance, I desire him to consider what he would 
 think if vice had, essentially and in its nature, these advan+ageous 
 tendencies; or if virtue had essentially the direct contrary <^ ..es. 
 
 But it may be objected that, notwithstanding all these natural ef- 
 fects and these natural tendencies of virtue, yet things may be now 
 going on throughout 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, some- 
 times successful. The answer to which is, that it is not the purpose 
 of this chapter, nor of this treatise, properly to prove God's perfect 
 moral goverfiment over the world, or the truth of religion, but to ob- 
 serve what there is in the constitution and course of nature to con- 
 firm the proper proof of it, supposed to be known; and that the 
 weight of the foregoing observations to this purpose may be thus dis- 
 tinctly proved. Pleasure and pain are, indeed, to a certain degree, 
 say to a very high degree, distributed amongst us without any appa- 
 rent regard to the merit or demerit of characters- And were there 
 nothing else, concerning this matter, discernible in the constitution 
 and course «f nature, to hope or to fear that men would be reward 
 ed or punished hereafter according to their deserts; which, however, 
 it is to be remarked, implies that even then there would be no ground 
 from appearances 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 argu- 
 ments for it; which are, I think, plainly unanswerable, and would be 
 80, though there were no additional confirmation of them from the 
 things above insisted on: but these things are a very strong confirma- 
 tion of them. For, 
 
 First, they shew that the author of nature is not indifferent to vir- 
 tue and vice. They amount to a declaration from him. determinate 
 and not to be evaded, in favor of one, and against the other; such a 
 declaration, as there is nothiog to be set over against or answer, on 
 the part of vice, ^o that were a man, laying aside the proper proof 
 of religion, to determine from the course of nature only, wh»?ther it 
 were most probable that tlie righteous or the wicked would have the 
 advantage in a future life; there can be no doubt but that he would 
 determine the probability to be, that the former would. The course 
 of nature then, in the view of it now given, furnishes us with a real 
 practical proof of the obligations of religion. 
 
 Secondly, when, conformably to what religion teaches us, God 
 shall reward and punish virtue and vice, as such, so as that every 
 one shall, upon tlie whole, have his deserts, this distributive justice 
 will not be a thing different in kind, but only in degree, from what 
 we experience in his present government. It will be that in effect, 
 towards 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 shewn, beyond dispute, discernible in the pres* 
 ent constitution and course o( nature. And from hence it follows, 
 
7% Of the Moral Part h 
 
 Thirdly, that as under the natural government of God, our expe- 
 rience of those kinds and degrees of happiness and misery which 
 we do experience at present, gives just ground to hope for and to 
 fear higher degrees and other kinds of both in a future state, suppos- 
 ing a future state admitted, so under his moral government, our ex- 
 perience, that virtue and vice are, in the manners above mentioned, 
 actually rewarded and punished at present, in a certain dejree, gives 
 just ground to hope and to fear that they may be rewarded and pun- 
 ished in an higher degree hereafter. 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 so, from the good and 
 bad tendencies of virtue and vice. For these tendencies are essen- 
 tial, and founded in the nature of things, whereas the hindrances to 
 their becoming effect, are, in numberless cases, not necessary, but 
 artificial only. Now it may be much more strongly argued, that 
 these tendencies, as well as the actual rewards and punishments of 
 virtue and vice, which arise directlyout of the nature of things, wiW 
 remain hereafter, than that the accidental hindrances of them will. 
 And if these hindrances do not remain, those rewards and punish- 
 ments cannot but be carried on much further towards the perfection 
 of moral government, i. e. the tendencies of virtue and vice will be- 
 cnme effect; but when, or where, or in what particular way, cannot 
 be known at all, but by revelation. 
 
 UporTlhe whole, there is a kind of moral government implied in 
 God's natural government;* virtue and vice are naturally rewarded 
 and punjshed as beneficial and mischievous to society,! and reward- 
 ed and punished directly as virtue and vice if The notion then of a 
 moral scheme of government is not fictitious but natural, for it is 
 -«uggested to our 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 declara- 
 tion 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 re- 
 warded and punished in higher degrees than they are here. And as 
 all this is confirmed, so the argument for religion from the constitu- 
 tion and course of nature is carried on farther, by observing, that 
 there are natural tendencies, and, in innumerable cases, only artifi- 
 cial hindrances, to this moral scheme's being carried on much farther 
 towards perfection than it is at present.§ The notion then of a 
 moral scheme of governmer.t 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 intimati«ns, 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 
 iod.?ed, every natural tendency which is to continue, but which is 
 hindered from becoming effect by only accirfewiai causes, affords a 
 
 • P. fiS. T P. 06. \ P C6, &c. § P. 70, &c. 
 
Chap. III. GovernnmU of God. 77 
 
 presumption that such tendency will, some time or other, become 
 effect; a presumption in degree proportionable to the length of the 
 duration through which such tendency will continue. And from 
 these things together arises a real presumption, that the moral scheme 
 of government established in nature shall be carried on much far- 
 ther towards perfection hereafter, and, I think, a presumption that 
 it will be absolutely completed. But from these things, joined with 
 tlie 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 deduced from 
 the eternal and unalterable relations, the fitness and unfitness of 
 actions. 
 
 * See this proof drawn out brieflf. Chap vi. 
 
jsft. Of a State of Trial Part I. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Of a State of Probatiotif as implying Trialy Difficulties, and Danger. 
 
 THE general doctrine of religion, that our present life is a state 
 of probation for a future one, comprehends under it several particu- 
 lar 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 beha.viour, which God will reward and 
 punish hereafter; together with temptati >ns to one, as well as induce- 
 ments 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 
 possibility of doing wrong, nor ground forjudgment or discrimination. 
 JBut there is this diiFerence, that the word probation is more distinctly 
 and particularly expressive of allurements to wrong, or difi&culties 
 in adhering uniformly to what is right, and of the danger of miscar- 
 rying 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. 
 
 And as the moral government of God, which religion teaches us, 
 iniplies that we are in a state of trial with regard to a future world, 
 so also hi;; natural 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 punishments as much implies natural 
 trial as moral government does moral trial. The natural government 
 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 necessarily 
 implies, that he has made our happines and misery, or our interest, 
 to depend rn part upon ourselves. And so far as men have temptations 
 to any course of action which will probably occasion them greater 
 temporal inconvenience and uneasiness than satisfaction, so far their 
 temporal interest 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 misconduct 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 inconvenience, and into extreme distress and misery; not 
 
 • Chap. jj. 
 
Chap. IV. Of a State of Trial. 79 
 
 through incapacity of knowing better, and doing better for themselves 
 which would be nothing to the present purpose, but through their owe 
 fault. And these things necessarily imply temptation, and danger 
 of miscarrying, in a greater or less degree, with respect to our worldly 
 interest or happiness. Every one 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, tempta- 
 tions 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, i. e. of difficulty and danger anal- 
 ogous 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 capacities, 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 occasions, who would otherwise have pre- 
 served their character of prudence and of virtue; in which cases, 
 every one, in speaking of the wrong behaviour of these persons, would 
 impdte 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 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 temptations, but by such 
 habits and passions. And the account of this last case is, that par- 
 ticular 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 such particular passions 
 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 tempta- 
 tion, it cannot but be understood that there is somewhat within 
 themselves to render those circumstances temptations or to render 
 them susceptible of impressions 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 w>(jre 
 they can be gratified consistently with innocence and prudence, but 
 also in cases where they cannot, and yet can be gratified imprudently 
 and viciously; this as really puts them in danger of voluntarily fore- 
 going their present interest or good as their future, and as really 
 
 • See Sermons preached at the Rolls, 1726, 2d Ed. p. 205, &c. Pref. p. Uj ^'^' 
 Serra. p. 21. &c. 
 
8^ Of a State of Trial. Part I. 
 
 renders self denial as necessary to secure one as the other, i. e. 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 ex- 
 cited, whether by means of example, or by any other external circum- 
 stance, towards such objects, at such times, or in such degrees, as 
 that they cannot be gratified consistently with worldly prudence, are 
 temptations, dangerous and too often successful temptations, to forego 
 a greater temporal good for a less; i. e. to forego what is, upon the 
 whole, our temporal interest, for the sake of a present gratification. 
 This is a description of our state of trial in our temporl capacity. 
 Substitute now the wqvA future for temporal, and virtue ioY 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 capa- 
 cities, we go on tu observe farther how mankind behave under it, we 
 shall find there are some who have so little sense of it that thy scarce 
 look beyond the passing day; they are so taken up with present grat- 
 ifications 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 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 better 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 ilefiance of every 
 thing that is reasonable, will go on in a course of vicious extrava- 
 gance, foreseeing, with no remorse and little fear, that it will be their 
 temporal ruin, and some of them under the apprehension of the con- 
 sequences 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 interest 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 dangers 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, sometimes 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 i*Hgion'sbeing corrupted into superstitions, which indulge men 
 in their vices; so in like manner, the difficulties of conducting our- 
 selves prudently in respect to our present interest, and our danger 
 of being led aside from pursuing it, are greatly increased by a foolish 
 education; and, after we come to mature age, by the extravagance 
 and carelessnnss of others whom Me liave intercourse vith, and by 
 
Chap. IV. Of a State of Trial. 81 
 
 raistaken notions, very generally prevalent, and taken up fron*. cotn- 
 niuii opinion, concerning temporal iiappiness, and wherein it consists. 
 And persons, by their own neji;Jigence and folly in their temporal 
 affairs, no less than by a course of vice, bring themselves into new- 
 difficulties, and, by habits of indulgence, 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 oftea 
 makes the path of conduct so intricate and perplexed, that it is 
 difficult to trace it out, diflicult even to determine what is the pru- 
 dent or the moral part. Thus, for instance, wrong behaviour in one 
 stage of life, youth; wrong, I mean, considering ourselves only in 
 our temporal capacity, without taking in religion; this, in several 
 ways, increases the difficulties of right behaviour in mature age; i. e. 
 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 nat- 
 ural appearances of our being in a state of degradation. A.nd we 
 certainly are in a condition, which does not seem, by any means, the 
 most advantageous we could imagine or deserve, either in our natural 
 or morul capacity, for securing either our present or 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 prudence, and so pass their days here on 
 earth in tolorable 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 themselves 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 authority. 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, whicK 
 religion teaches us we are in, ,is rendered credible by its being 
 throughout uniform and of a piece with the general conduct of Prov- 
 idence 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 birtli 
 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 inconveniences and distress, by carelessness, 
 or the foily of passion, through bad example, the treachery of others, 
 or the deceitful appearances of things; were this our natural condi- 
 tion, then it might seem strange, and be some presumption against 
 the truth of religion, that it represents our future and more general 
 interest, as not secure of course, but as depending upon our behaviour, 
 and requiring recollection and self government 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 experience, our con- 
 dition is in another. Our whole present interest is secured to our 
 hands, without any solicitude qf ours; and why should not our future 
 interest, if we have anv such, be so too.''" But since, on the contrary, 
 L 
 
82 Of a State of Trial. Paiit I. 
 
 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 prudent part, so as to pass with any 
 satisfaction through the present world, and be received upon any 
 tolerable 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 spe- 
 ciously, be urged, that it is improbable any kind of hazard and dan- 
 ger should be put upon us by an infinite 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 certain in his 
 fore-knowledge. And indeed, why any thing of hazard and danger 
 should be put upon such frail creatures as we are, 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. But still the con- 
 stitution of nature is as it 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 contingent and undetermined as their conduct, 
 and left to be determined by it. 
 
 These observations are an answer to the objections against the 
 credibility of a state of trial, as implying temptations, and real dan- 
 ger of miscarrying with regard to our general interest, under the 
 moral government of God; and they shew that, if we are at all to be 
 considered in such a capacity, and as having such an interest, the 
 general analogy of Providence must lead us to apprehend ourselves 
 in danger of miscarrying, in different degrees, as to this interest, by 
 our neglecting to act the proper part belonging to us in that capacity. 
 For we have a present 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 ac- 
 quisition, in such sort as that we are in danger of missing it, by 
 means of temptations to neglect, or act contrary to it; and without 
 attention an<l 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. 
 
Chap. V. Of Moral Discipline. 83 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Of a State of Probation, as intended for Moral Discipline and 
 Improvement. 
 
 FROM the consideration of our being in a probation state, of so 
 much difficulty and hazard, naturally arises the question, how we 
 came to be placed in it. But such a general inquiry as this would 
 be found involved in insuperable difficulties. For though some of 
 these difficulties would be lessened, by observing that all wickedness 
 is voluntary, as is implied in its very notion, and that many of the 
 miseries of life have apparent good effects, yet when we consider 
 other circumstances belonging to both, and what must be the conse- 
 quence of the former in a life to come, it cannot but be acknowledged 
 plain folly and presumption to pretend to give an account of the 
 whole reasons of this matter; the whole reasons of our being alloted 
 a condition, out of which so much wickedness and misery, so circum- 
 stanced, would in fact arise. Whether it be not beyond our faculties, 
 not only to find out, but even to understand, the whole account of 
 this; or, though we should be supposed capable of understanding it, 
 yet, whether it would be of service or prejudice to us to be informed 
 of it, is impossible to say. But as our present condition can in no 
 wise be shewn inconsistent with the perfect moral government of 
 God, so religion teaches us we were placed in it that we might qual- 
 ify ourselves, by the practice of virtue, for another state which is to 
 follow it. And this, though but a partial answer, a very partial one 
 indeed, to the inquiry now mentioned, yet is a more satisfactory 
 answer to another, which is of real, and of the utraost importance to 
 us to have answere4— the inquiry, what is our business here? The 
 known end, then, why we are placed in a state of so much affliction, 
 hazard and difficulty, is, our improvement in virtue and piety, as the 
 requisite qualification for a future state of security and happiness. 
 
 Now the beginning of life, considered as an education for mature 
 age in the present world, appears plainly, at first sight, analogous to 
 this our trial for a future one; the former being in our temporal capa- 
 city, what the latter is in our religious capacity. But some observa- 
 tions common to both of them, and a more distinct consideration of 
 each, will more distinctly shew the extent and force of the analogy 
 between them, and the credibility which arises from hence, as well as 
 from the nature of the thing, that the present life was intended to be 
 a state of discipline for a future one. 
 
 1. Every species of creatures is, we see, designed for a particular 
 way of life; to which the nature, the capacities, temper, and qualifi- 
 cations of each species, are as necessary as their external circum- 
 sjranccs. Both come into the notion of such state, or particular way 
 
84 OJaSlaieoJ Part I. 
 
 of life, and arc constituent parts of it. Cliange a inan's capacities 
 or character, to the degree in which it is conceivable they may be 
 changed, and he would be a!t<jkgether incapable of a human course of 
 life, and human happiness; as incapable as if, his nature continuing 
 unchanged, he were placed in a world where he had no sphere of ac- 
 tion, nor any objects to answer ids appetites, passions, and afllections 
 of any sort. One thing is set over against anotlier, as an ancient 
 writer expresses it. (Our nature corresponds to our external condi- 
 tion; without this correspondence, there would be no possibilifj of 
 any such thing as human life and human happiness; which life and 
 happiness are, therefore, a result from our nature and condition-joint- 
 ly; 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 employment and happi- 
 ness, the particular life of good men hereafter, there must be some 
 determinate capacities, some necessary character and qualifications, 
 without which persons cannot but be utterly incapable of it: in like 
 manner as there must be some, without which men would be incapa- 
 ble of their present state of life. Now, 
 
 II, The constitution of human creatures, and indeed of all crea- 
 tures which come under our notice, is such, as that they are capable 
 of naturally becoming qualified for states of life, for which they 
 were once wholly unqualified. In imagination we may indeed con- 
 ceive of creatures as incapable of having any of their faculties nat- 
 urally 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. 
 We find ourselves in particular endued with c.-tpacities, not only of 
 perceiving ideas, and of knowledge or perceiving truth, but also of 
 storing up our ideas and knowledge bv memory. We are capable, 
 not only of acting, and of having difti'rent momentary impressions 
 piade upon us, but of getting a new facility in any kind of action, 
 and of settled alterations in our te!U]>er or thaiactcr. The power of 
 the two last is the power of habits; but neither the perception of 
 idcas^ nor knowledge of any sort, are habits, though absolutely ne- 
 cessary to the f{5rniing of them. However, apprehension, reason, 
 memory, which are the capacities of acquiring knowledge, are great- 
 ly improved by exercise. Whether the word habit is applicable to 
 all these ijTiprovenients, and in particular how far the powers of 
 memory and of habits may be powers of the same nature, 1 shall not 
 inquire. But that perceptions come into our minds readily and of 
 course, by means of theii- having been there before, scorns a thing of 
 the same sort as readiness in any particular kind of action, proceed- 
 ing from being accustomed to it. And aptness to recollect practical 
 observations of service in our conduct, is plainly habit in many cases. 
 There are habits of perception, and habits of action. An instance 
 of the former is otir constant and even involuntarily readiness, in cor- 
 recting the impressions of our sig'^t concerning magnitudes and dis- 
 tances, so as to substitute ju<lgnient in the ro'jm of sensation imper- 
 ceptibly to ourselves. And it seems as if all other associations of 
 ideas not naturally connected, mijihtbe called passive habits, as pro- 
 perly us our r'^adincs.!* in '.;n'^er.>5tiin'4ing languages upon sight, or 
 
Chap. V. Moral Disclplint. 85 
 
 hearing of worils. And our readiness in speaking and writing them 
 is an instance of the latter, of active habits. For distinctness, we 
 may consider habits as belonging to the body or the mind; and the 
 latter will be explained by the former. Under the former are com- 
 prehended all bodily activities or motions, whether graceful or unbe- 
 coming, which are owing to use; under the latter, general habits 
 of life and conduct, such as those of obedience and submission to au- 
 thority, or to any particular person; those of veracity, justice and 
 charity; those of attention, industry, self government, envy, re- 
 venge And habits of this latter kind seem produced by repeated 
 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, i. e. by car- 
 rying them into act, or acting upon them; the principles of obedi- 
 ence, of veracity, justice and charity. Nor can those habits be form- 
 ed by any external course of action, otherwise than as it proceeds 
 from these principles; because it is only these inwarxl principles ex- 
 erted, which are strictly acts of obedience, of veracity, of justice, 
 and of charity. So likewise habits of attention, industry, self gov- 
 ernment, are in the same manner acquired by exercise; and habits 
 of envy and revenge by indulgence, whether in outward act, or in 
 thought and intention, i. e. inward act; for such intention is an act. 
 Resolutions also to do well are properly acts. And endeavoring 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, 
 is a virtuous act. All these, therefore, may and will contribute to- 
 wards forming good habits. But going over the theory of virtue in 
 one's thoughts, talking well, and drawing fine pictures of it, — this is 
 so far from necessarily or certainly conducing to form an habit of itj 
 in him who thus employs himself, that it may harden the mind in a 
 contrary course, and render it gradually more insensible, i. e. form 
 an haljit of insensibility to all moral considerations. For, from our 
 very faculty of habits, passive impressions, by being repeated, grow 
 weaker. Thoughts, by often passing through the mind, are felt less 
 sensibly; being accustomed to danger begets intrepidity, i. e. lessens 
 fear; to distress, lessons the passion of pity; to instances of other's 
 mortality, lessens the sensible apprehension of our own. And from 
 these tv^o observations together, — that practical habits are formed 
 and strengthened by repeated acts, and that passsive impressions 
 grow v/eaker by being repeated upon us, — it must follow, that ac- 
 tive habits may begra(lually forming and strengthening, by a course 
 of acting upon such and such motives and excitements, whilst these 
 motives and excitements themselves are, by proportionable degrees^ 
 giowing less sensible, i. e. arc continually less and less sensibly felt, 
 even as the active habits strengthen. And experience confirms thisj 
 for active principles, at the very time that they are less lively in per- 
 ception than they were, are found to be, some how, wrought more 
 thoroughly into the temper and character, and become more effectual 
 in influencing our practice. The three things just mentioned, may 
 afFowl instances of it. Perception of danger is a natural 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 
 
86 Of a State of Part I. 
 
 former gradually lessens. Perceptions of distress in others is a nat- 
 ural excitement, passively to pity, and actively to relieve it; but let 
 a man set lumself 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 become acquainted, 
 when yet at the same time benevolence, considered not as a passion, 
 but as a practical principle of action, will strengthen; and whilst he 
 passively compassionates the distressed less, he will acquire a great* 
 er aptitude actively to assist and befriend them. So also at the 
 same time that the daily instances of men's dying around us give us 
 daily a less sensible passive feeling or apprehension of our own mor- 
 tality, such instances greatly contribute to the strengthening a prac- 
 tical regard to it in serious incn, H. e. to forming an habit of acting 
 with a cohstant view to it. And this seems again further to shew, 
 that passive impressions made upon our minds by admonition, ex- 
 perience example, though they may have a remote eflScacy, and a 
 very great one, towards forming active habits, yet can have this effi- 
 cacy no otherwise than by inducing us to such a course of action; 
 and that it is, not being affected so and so, but acting, which forms 
 those habits; only it must be always remembered, that real endeav- 
 ors to enforce good impressions upon ourselves, are a species of vir- 
 tuous action. Nor do we know how far it is possible, in tlie nature 
 of tilings, that effects should be wrought in us at once, equivalent to 
 habits, i. e^ what is wrought by use and exercise. However, the 
 thing insisted upon is, not what may, be possible, but what is in fact 
 the appointment of nature; which is, that active habits are to be 
 formed by exercise. Their progress may be so gradual as to be im- 
 perceptible in its steps; it may be hard to explain the faculty by 
 v.hich we are capable 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 general, that our nature is formed to yield, in some 
 such manner as this, to use and exercise, is matter of certain expe- 
 rience. 
 
 Thus, by accustoming ourselves to any course of action, we get an 
 aptness to go on, a facility, readiness, and often pleasure in it. The 
 inclinations which rendered us averse to it grow weaker; the diffi- 
 culties in it not only the imaginary but the real ones, le-ssen; the rea- 
 sons for it offer themselves of course to onr thoughts upon all occa- 
 sions, and the least glimpse of them is sufficient to make us go on in 
 a course of action to which we have been accustomed. And practical 
 principles appear to grow stronger absolutely in themselves by exer- 
 cise, as well as relatively with regard to contrary principles, which, 
 by being accustomed to submit, do so habitually and of course. And 
 tlius a new character in several respects maybe formed, and many 
 habitudes of lile not given by natyre, but which nature directs us to 
 acquire. 
 
 ill. Indeed we may be assured, that we should never have had 
 these capacities of improving by experience, acquired knowledge and 
 habits, had they not been necessary, and intended to be made us^ of. 
 And accordingly we find them so necessary, and so much intended, 
 jlUt without them we ^hpuld be utterly incapable of that which was 
 
Chap. V. Mofal Discipline. 97 
 
 the end for which we were made, considered in our temporal capacity 
 only, the employments and satisfactions of our mature state of life. 
 
 Nature does in no wise qualify us wholly, much less at onae, for 
 this mature state of life. Even muturity of understanding and bodily 
 strength are not only arrived to gradually, but are also very much 
 owing to the continued exercise ot 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 manner distracted with astonishment, 
 and apprehension, and curiosity, and supense; nor can one ^uess 
 how long it would be before he would be famiiiaiized 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 inanner 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 acquired moderation and 
 self government, some aptitude and readiness in restraining them- 
 selves, and concealing their sense of things. Want of every thing 
 of this kind which is learnt, would render a man as uncapable of 
 society as want of language would, or as his natural ignorance of any 
 of the particular employments of life would render him uncapable of 
 providing himself with the common conveniences, 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 na- 
 ture an unformed, unfinished creature, utterly deficient and unquali- 
 fied, before the acquirement of knowledge, experience and habits, for 
 that mature state of life which was the end of his creation, consider- 
 ing him as related only to this world. 
 
 But then, as nature has endued us with a power of supplying those 
 deficiencies by acquired knowledge, experience and habits, so like- 
 wise 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 wriich 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 common behaviour abroad, and 
 prepare them for subjection and obedience to civil authority. What 
 passes before their eyes, and daily happens to them, gives them ex- 
 perience, caution against treachery and deceit, together with num- 
 berless little rules of action and conduct, which we could not live 
 without, and which are learnt so insensibly and so perfectly as to be 
 mistaken perhaps for instinct, though they are the effect of long ex- 
 perience and exercise, as much so as language, or knowledge in par- 
 ticular business, or the qualifications and behaviour belonging to the 
 several ranks and professions. Thus the beginning of our days is 
 adapted to be, and is, a state of education in the theory and practice 
 of mature life. We are much assisted in it by example, instruction, 
 
8S Of a State of Part I. 
 
 and the care of others? but a great deal is left to oursolvps to do. 
 And of this, as part is done easily and of course, so jiait requires dil- 
 igence and care, the voluntary for^^goin^ mariy things which we 
 desire, and setting ourselves to what we should have no inclination 
 to, but for the necessity or expedience of it. For, that Uibor and 
 ^industry which the station of so many absolutely requires, they 
 would be greatly unqualified for in maturity, as those ia other sta- 
 tions would be for any other sorts of application, if both were not ac- 
 customed to them in their youth. And according as persons behave 
 themselves, in the general education which all go through, and ia 
 the particular ones adapted to particular employments, their char- 
 acter 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. 
 
 The 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 recovered. And our being placed in a state of discipline 
 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 dis- 
 cipline during childhood, for mature age. Our condition in both res- 
 pects is uniform and of a piece, an<l comprehended under one and 
 the same general law of nature. 
 
 And if we were 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 dis- 
 cern how food and sleep contribute to the growth of the body, nor 
 could have any thought that they would before we had experience. 
 Nor do children at all think, on the one hand, that the sports and 
 exercises to which they are so much addicted contribute to their 
 health and growth; nor on the other, of the necessity which there is 
 for their being restrained in them; nor are they capable of under- 
 standing the use of many parts of discipline, which nevertheless they 
 must be made to go through, in order to qualify them for the business 
 of mature age. Were we not able then to discover, in what respects 
 the present life could form us for a future one, yet nothing would be 
 more supposable than that it might, in some respects or other, from 
 the general analogy of Providence. And this, for ought I see, might 
 reasonably be said, even though we should not take in the considexa- 
 tion of God's moral government over the world. But, 
 
 IV, Take in this consideration, and consequently that the char- 
 acter of virtue and piety is a necessary qualification for the future 
 state, and then we may distinctly see how, and in what respects, the 
 present life may be a preparation for it; since we want^ and are capa- 
 ble off improvement in that character, ly moral and religious habits, 
 andthe present life is Jit to be a state of discipline for such improve' 
 ment; in like manner as we have already observed how, and in what 
 respects, infancy, childhood 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 unactive state hereafter; but, if we judge at all from the anal- 
 ogy of nature, we must suppose, according to the Scripture account 
 of it, that it will be a communitv. And there is no shadow of any 
 
Chap. V. Of Moral Discipline. 89 
 
 thing unreasonable in conceiving, though there Le no analogy for it, 
 that this community 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 ignorance 
 what particular scope or occupation 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 occasion for that frame of mind, or char- 
 acter, which is formed by the daily practice of those particular vir- 
 tues here, and which is a result from it. This at least must be 
 owned in general, that, as the government 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 qualification 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 wickedness of mankind, or 
 even with those imperfections which the best are conscious of. But 
 it is not perhaps distinctly attended to by every one, that the occa- 
 sion which human creatures have for discipline, to improve in them 
 this character of virtue and piety, is to be traced up higher than to 
 excess in the passions, by indulgence and habits of vice. Mankind, 
 and perhaps all finite creatures, from the very constitution of their 
 nature, before habits of virtue, are, deficient, and in danger of deviat- 
 ing from what is right; and therefore stand in need of virtuous habits, 
 for a security against this danger. For, together with the general 
 principle of moral understanding, we have in our inward frame vari- 
 ous aft'ections towards particular external objects. These affections 
 are naturally and of right subject to the government of the moral 
 principle, as to the occasions upwn which they may be gratified, as to 
 the times, degrees and manner in which the object 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 inno- 
 cently; nay, though they cannot possibly be obtained at all. And 
 when the objects of any affection whatever cannot be obtained with- 
 out unlawful means, but may be obtained by them, such affection, 
 though its being excited, and its continuing some time in the mind, 
 be it as innocent as it is natural and necessary, yet cannot but be 
 conceived to have a tendency to incline persons to venture upoa 
 such unlawful means, and therefore must be conceived as putting 
 them in some danger of it. Now what is the general security against 
 this danger, against their actually deviating from right? As the dan- 
 ger is, so also must the ^curity be from within; from the practical 
 M 
 
90 Of a State of Paut f. 
 
 principle of virtue* And the strengthening or improving this prin- 
 ciple, considered as practical, or as a principle of action, will lessen 
 the danger, or increase the security against it. And this moral prin- 
 ciple 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 humor, and mere incli- 
 nation, by continually attending to the equity and right of the case 
 in whatever we are engaged, be it in greater or less matters, and 
 accustoming ourselves 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. 
 Tfius the principle of virtue^ improved into an habit, of which im- 
 provement we are thus capable, ivill plainly be, in proportion to the 
 strength of it. a security as;ainst the danger which finite creatures 
 are in, from the very nature of propension, or particular affections. 
 This way of putting the matter supposes particular aftections to re- 
 main 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 regulation of them. How- 
 ever, though we were not distinctly to take in this supposition, but 
 to speak only in general, the thing really comes to the same. For 
 habits of virtue, thus acquired by discipline, are improvement in vir- 
 tue; and improvement in virtue must be advancement in happiness, 
 if the government of the universe be moral. 
 
 From these things we may observe, and it will farther shew 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 raise themselves to a more 
 secure state of virtue. To say that the former is accounted for by 
 the nature of liberty, is to say no more than that an event's actually 
 happening is accounted for by a mere possibility of its happening. But 
 it seems distinctly conceivable from the very nature of particular 
 affections or propensions. For, suppose creatures intened for such 
 a particular state of life for which such propensions were necessary; 
 suppose them endued with such propensions, together with moral 
 understanding, as well including a practical sense of virtue as a 
 speculative perception of it, and that ail these several principles, 
 both natural and moral, forming an inward constitution of mind, were 
 in the most exact proportion possible, i. e. in a proportion the most 
 exactly adapted to their intended state of lite; such creatures would 
 
 * ft may be thought, that a seuse of interest would as effectnally restrain creatures 
 from tlniiig -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 experience to say, that this sense of 
 interest is sufficient to restrain diem from thus indulging theniselres And if by a sense 
 of interest is meant a practical regard to what is, upon the whole, our happiness, this is 
 pot only coincident with the principle of virtue or moral rectitude, but is a part of the 
 idea itself. And it is evident this reasonable ^elf love wants to be impi'oved, as really 
 as any principle in our nature. For we daily see it overmatched, not only by the 
 more boisterous passions, but by curiosity, shame, love of imitation, by any thing, even 
 indolence; especially if the interest, the temporal interest, suppose, which is the end of 
 such self love, be at a distance. So greatly are profligate men mistaken, when they 
 affirm tliey are wholly governed by iiiteresledness and self love. And so little cause is 
 tliere for moi-alists to disclaim this principle. See p. 7'J, 80. 
 
Chap. V. Moral Discipline. Gl 
 
 be made upright, or finitely perfect. Now particular propensions, 
 from their very nature, must be felt, the objects of them being pres- 
 ent, though they cannot be gratified at all, or not with the allowance 
 of the moral principle. But if they can be gratified without its allow- 
 ance, 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 
 frequency of occasions naturally exciting it, than of occasions excit- 
 ing others. The least voluntary indulgence in forbidden circum- 
 stances, though but in thought, will increase this wrong tendency, and 
 may increase it further, until, peculiar conjunctures perhaps conspir- 
 ing, it becomes effect; and danger of deviating from right, ends in 
 actual deviation from it; a danger necessarily arising from the very 
 nature of propension, andirwhich therefore could not have been pre- 
 vented, though it might have been escaped, or got innocently through. 
 The case would be as if 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 thou- 
 sand objects catching his eye might lead him out of it. Now it is 
 impossible to saj- how much, even the first full overt act of irregularity, 
 might disorder the inward constitution, unsettle the adjustments, 
 and alter the proportions which formed it, and in which the upright- 
 ness of its make consisted; but repetition of irregularities would 
 produce habits: and thus the constitution would be spoiled, and crea- 
 tures made upright become corrupt and depraved in their settled 
 character, proportionably to their repeated irregularities in occasional 
 acts. But on the contrary, these creatures might have improved, 
 and raised themselves to an 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 pro- 
 pension, 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 
 thiegs are implied in the notion of virtuous habits. Thus then, vicious 
 indulgence is not only criminal in itself, but also depraves the inward 
 constitution and character. And virtuous self government is not 
 only right in itself, but also improves the inward constitution or char- 
 acter; and may improve it to such a degree, that though we should 
 suppose it impossible for particular affections to be absolutely coinci- 
 dent 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 actually deviating from right may be 
 almost infinitely lessened, and they fully fortified against what re- 
 mains 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 proceed from them. 
 And thus it is plainly conceivable, that creatures without blemish, as 
 
92 0/ a State of Part L 
 
 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, addi- 
 tional 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 siiould be placed in circumstances with an eye to it; in cir- 
 cumstances peculiarly fitted to be to them a stale of discipline for 
 their improvement in virtue. 
 
 But how much more srongly must this hold with respect to those 
 who have corrupted their natures, are fallen from their original recti- 
 tude, and whose passions are become excessive by repeated violations 
 of their inward constitution? Upright creatures may want to be im- 
 proved; depraved creatures want to be*renewed. Education atid 
 discipline, wtiich may be in all degrees and sorts of gentleness and 
 of severity, is expedient for those, but must be absolutely necessary 
 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 raise into an 
 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 pexuliarli/ fit to be a state of discipline for this pur- 
 pose, to such as will set themselves to mend and improve. For, the 
 various temptations with which we are surrounded; our experience 
 of the deceits of wickedness; having been in many instances led 
 wrong ourselves; the great viciousness of the world: the infinite dis- 
 orders consequent upon it; eur 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 reilected upon, have, all of 
 them, a direct tendency to bring us to a settled moderation and rea- 
 sonableness of temper, the contrary both to thoughtless levity, and 
 also to that unrestrained self will, and violent bent to follow present 
 inclination, which may be observed in undisciplined 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 capacities of mis- 
 cry which he has given us; in short, that kind and degree of experi- 
 ence which the present state affords us, th^t the constitution of na- 
 ture is such as to admit the possibility, the danger, and the actual 
 event of creatures losing their innocence and happiness, and becom- 
 ing 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 miesry. And who knows, whether 
 the security of cieatures in the highest and most settled state of per- 
 fection may not in part arise from their having had such a sense of 
 things as thisj formed and habitually fixed within them, in some state 
 flf probation. And passing through the present world with that moral 
 attention which is necessary to the acting a right part in it, may leave 
 
Chap. V, Moral JDiscipline. 9S 
 
 everlasting impressions of this sort upon our minds. But to be a little 
 more distinct — allurements to what is wrong; difficulties in the dis- 
 charge of our duty; our not being able to act an uniform right part 
 without some thought and care; and the opportunities which we have, 
 or imagine we have, of avoiding 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 things, i. e. the snares 
 and temptations of vice, are what render the present world peculiarly 
 fit to be a state of discipline to those who will preserve their integ- 
 rity, because they render being upon our guard, resolution, and the 
 denial of our passions necessary in order to that end. And the exer- 
 cise of such particular recollection, intention of mind, and self gov- 
 ernment in tne practice of virtue has, from tli« make of our nature, 
 a peculiar tendency to form habits of virtue, as implying eot only a 
 real but also a more continued and a more intense exercise of the vir- 
 tuous principle, or a more constant and a stronger eftbrt 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 exert- 
 ing 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 essen- 
 tial to discipline and improvement. For though actions materially 
 virtuous, which have no sort of difficulty, but are perfectly agreeabl« 
 to our particular inclinations, may possibly be done only from these 
 particular inclinations, and so may not be any exercise of the princi- 
 ple of virtue, i. e. 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 danger, tempta- 
 tion, and difficulty of any kind and in any degree, this tendency is 
 increased proportionably, and a more confirmed habit is the conse- 
 quence. 
 
 This undoubtedly holds to a certain length; but how far it may hold 
 I know not. Neither our intellectual powers, nor our bodily strength? 
 can be improved beyond such a degree; and both may be overwrought. 
 Possibly there may be somewhat analogous to this, with respect to the 
 moral character, which is scarce worth considering. And X mention 
 it only, lest it should come into some persons' thoughts, not as an 
 exception to the foregoing observations, which perhaps it is, but as a 
 confutation of them, which it is not. And there may be several other 
 exceptions. Observations of this kind cannot be supposed to hold 
 minutely and in every case. It is enoHgh that they hold in general. 
 And these plainly hold so far, as that from them may be seen dis- 
 tinctly, which is all that is intended by them, that the present world 
 is peculiarly jit to be a state of discipline, for our improvement in 
 virtue and piety, in the same sense as some sciences, by requiring 
 and engaging the attention, not to be sure of such persons as will not- 
 
S4 Of a State of Part L 
 
 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 disci- 
 pline of virtue to the generality of men, that, on the contrary, they 
 seem to make it a discipline of vice. And the viciousness of the world 
 is, in different ways, the great temptation which renders it a state of 
 virtuous discipline, in the degree it is, to good men. The whole end 
 and the whole occasion of mankind's 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, attend 
 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 exercise 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 
 requii-ed 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 gene- 
 rality, i. e. 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 
 designed them for such perfection. And I cannot forbear adding, 
 though it is not to the present purpose, that the ap'pearance 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 ter- 
 rible, the present and future ruin of so many moral agents by them- 
 selves, i. e. by vice. 
 
 Against this whole notion of moral discipline it may be objected 
 in another way, that so far as a course of behaviour, materially vir- 
 tuous, proceeds from hope and fear, so far it is only a discipline and 
 strengthening of self love. But doing what God commands, because 
 be commands it. is obedience, though it proceeds from hope or fear. 
 And a course of such obedience will form habits of it. 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 gov- 
 ernment, and of denying our inclinations, whenever veracity,justice 
 or charity requires it. Nor is there any foundation for this great 
 nicety, with which so'.ne affect to distinguish in this case, in order to 
 depreciate all religion 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 coincident, but each of them is, in 
 itself, a just and natural motive or principle of action. And he who 
 fcegins a good life from any one of them, and perseveres in it, as he 
 
Chap. V. Jiloral Discipline. 95 
 
 is already in some degree, so he cannot fail of becoming more and 
 more of that character, which is correspondent to the constitution of 
 nature as moral, and to the relation which God stands in to us as 
 moral <;overnor of it; nor consequently can he fail of obtaining that 
 happiness which this constitution and relation necessarily suppose 
 connected with that character. 
 
 These several observations concerning the active principle of vir- 
 tue and obedience to God's commands are applicable to passive sub- 
 mission or resignation to his will, which is another essential part of a 
 right character, connected with the former, and very much in our 
 power to form ourselves to. It may be imagined, 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 quality 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 extravagant and unbounded thoughts. Imagination 
 is altogether as much a source of discontent as any thing in our ex- 
 ternal 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, cannot but be uniformly coincident with 
 the principle of obedience to God's commands, our interest being 
 rightly understcod; because this obedience, and the pursuit of ou- 
 own chief interest, must be in every case one and the same thing: 
 yet it may be questioned, 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 affections can; coincident in such sort, as not to be 
 liable to be excited upon occasions and in degreeis, impossible to be 
 gratified consiste^itly with the constitution of things, or the divine 
 appointments. So that habits of resignation may, upon this account, 
 be requisite for all creatures; habits, I say, which signify what is 
 formed by use. However, in general it is obvious, that both self love 
 and particular affections in human creatures, considered only as pas- 
 sive feelings, distort and rend the mind, and therefore stand in need 
 of discipline- Now denial of those particular affections, in a course 
 of active virtue and obedience to God's will, has a tendency to mod- 
 erate them, and seems also to have a tendency to hjabituate the mind 
 to be easy and satisfied with that degree of happiness which is alloted 
 us, i. e. to moderate self love. But the proper discipline for resigna- 
 tion is affliction. For a right behaviour under 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 gov- 
 ernment: 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 sove- 
 reignty, 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 more power may be acci- 
 dental, and precarious, and usurped; but it is forming within our 
 
96 Of a State of, S^c. Part L 
 
 selves the temper of resignation to his rightful authority, who is, by 
 nature, supreme over all. 
 
 Upon the whole, such a character, and such qualifications, are 
 necessary for a mature state of life in the present world, as nature 
 alone does in no wise bestow, but has put it upon us in great part to 
 acquire, in our progress from one stage of life to another, from child- 
 hood to mature age; put it upon us to acquire them, by giving us ca- 
 pacities 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 condition 
 in the present world, as in a state of moral discipline for another. 
 It is in vain then to object against the credibility of the present life's 
 being intended 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 characters which we 
 were to be. For we experience, that ivhat we ivere 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. Acquirements of our 
 own, experience and habits, are the natural supply to our deficien- 
 cies, and security against our dangers, since it is as 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 ©f it. And 
 the alternative is left to our choice, either to improve ourselves, and 
 better 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 
 happiness of a future state, and the qualifications necessary for it. 
 
 There is a third thing, which may seem implied in the present 
 world's being a state of probation; that it is a theatre of action for 
 the manifestation of persons' characters, with respect to a future 
 one; not to be sure to an all knowing Being, but to his creation or 
 part of it. This may, perhaps, be only a consequence of our being 
 in a state of probation in the other senses. However, it is not im- 
 possible that men's shewing and making manifest what is in their 
 heart, what their real character is, may have respect to a future life, 
 in ways and manners which we are not acquainted with; particularly 
 it may be a means, for the Author of nature does not appear to do 
 any thing without means, of their being disposed of suitably to their 
 characters; and of its being known to the creation, by way of exam- 
 ple, that they are thus disposed of. But not to enter upon any con- 
 jectural account of this, one may just mention, that the manifestation 
 of persons' characters contributes very much, in various ways, to the 
 carrying on a part of that general course of nature, respecting man- 
 kind, which comes under our observation at present. 1 shall only add, 
 that probation, in both these senses, as well as in that treated ot in 
 the foregoing chapter, is implied in moral government, since by per- 
 sons' behaviour under it their characters cannot but be manifested, 
 and, if they behave well, improved. 
 
Chap. VI. Of the Opinion of A''ecessit]f. 97 
 
 CHAP. VL 
 
 Of the Opinion of JVecessity, considered as influencing Practice. 
 
 THROUGHOUT t'.e foregoing treatise it appears, that the condi- 
 tion of mankind, considered as inhabitants of this world only, and 
 under the government of God which we experience, is greatly anal- 
 ogous to our condition as designed for another world, or under that 
 farther government which religion teaches us. If therefore any as- 
 sert, as a fatalist must, that the opinion of universal necessity is re- 
 concileable with the former, there immediately arises a question in 
 the way of analogy, whether he must not also own it to be reconcile- 
 able with the latter, i. e. with the system of religion itself, and the 
 proof of it. The reader then will observe, that the question now 
 before us is not absolute, whether the opinion of fate be reconcilea- 
 ble with religion; but hypothetical, whether, upon supposition of its 
 being reconcileable with the constitution of nature, it be not recon- 
 cileable with religion also; or, what pretence a fatalist, not other per- 
 sons, but a fatalist, has to conclude from his opinion that there can 
 be no such thing as religion. And as the puzzle and obscurity which 
 must unavoidably arise from arguing upon so absurd a supposition as 
 that of universal necessity will, I fear, easily be seen, it will, I hope, 
 as easily be excused. 
 
 But since it has been all along taken for granted, as a thing pro- 
 ved, that there is an intelligent author 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 account for the origin and preservation of 
 all things, it is requisite that this objection be distinctly answered, or 
 that it be shewn that a fatality, supposed consistent with what we 
 certainly experience, does not destroy the proof of an intelligent 
 author and governor of nature, before we proceed to consider wheth- 
 er 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 possi- 
 bly have been otherwise, it is to be observed, that this necessity does 
 not exclude deliberation, choice, preference, and acting from certain 
 principles, and to certain ends; because all this is matter of un- 
 doubted experience, acknowledged by all, and what every man may, 
 every moment, be conscious of. And from hence it follows, that ne- 
 cessity, alone and of itself, is in no sort an account of the constitution 
 of nature, and how things came to be and to continue as they are; but 
 only an account of this ciVcjojJsfcrnce relating to their origin and con- 
 N 
 
98 Of the Opinion of JV*ecessity, Part I. 
 
 tinuance, that tliey 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 
 way and manner which we call necessarily, or in that way and man- 
 ner 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 
 himself a free agent, were disputing together, and vindicating their 
 respective opinions, and they should happen to instance in a house — 
 they would agree that it was built by an architect. Their difference 
 concerning necessity 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 na- 
 ture; in a lax way of speaking, one of them might say it was by ne- 
 cessity, and the other by 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 wc ascribe to God a necessary existence, uncaused by any 
 agent. For we find witiiin ourselves the idea- of infinity, i. e. im- 
 mensity and eternity, impossible, even in imagination, to be remov- 
 ed 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 eternal 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 in- 
 troduced, that necessity is the foundation, the reason, tne account of 
 the existence of God. But it is not alleged, nor can it be at all in- 
 tended, that every thirig 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 de- 
 sign, in the actions of men, contributes to many alterations in nature. 
 For if any deny this, I shall not pretend to reason with them. 
 
 From these things it follows, first, that when a fatalist asserts that 
 every thing is hy necessity, he must mean by an agent acting necessari- 
 ly; he must, i say, mean this, for I am very sensible he would not 
 choose to mean it: and, secondly, that the necessity 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 an 
 house, and no more. Necessity as much requires and supposes a ne- 
 cessary 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 designer, or to act from choice, upon the 
 scheme of necessity, supposed possible, as upon that of freedom. 
 
 It appearing thus, that the notion of necessity does not destroy 
 
Chap. VI, as influencing Practice. 99 
 
 the proof that there is an intelligent author of nature and natural 
 governor of the world, th,e present question, which the analogy be- 
 fore mentioned* suggests, and which, I think, it will answer, is this — 
 whether the opinion of necessity, supposed consistent with possibili- 
 ty, with the constitution of the world, and the natural government 
 which we experience exercised over it, destroys 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 con- 
 clude 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 ver^y percep- 
 tions of blame and commendation out of his mind, by means of this 
 system; to form his temper, and character, and behaviour to it, and 
 from it to judge of the treatment he was to expect, say from reasona- 
 ble men, upon his coming abroad into the world; as the fatalist 
 judges from this system what he is to expect from the author of na- 
 ture 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 him- 
 self freed from the restraints of fear and shame, with which his 
 playfellows were fettered and embarrassed, and highly conceited in 
 his superior knowledge ,so far beyond his years. But conceit and 
 vanity would be the least bad part of the influence wliich these prin- 
 ciples must have, when thus reasoned and acted upon, during the 
 course of his education. He must either be allowed to go on and be . 
 the plague of all about him, and himself too, even to his own de- 
 struction, or else correction must be continually made use of, to sup- 
 ply the want of those natural perceptions of blame and commenda- 
 tion which we have supposed to be removed, and to give him a prac- 
 tical impression of what he had reasoned himself out of tlie 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 impossible, but 
 that the correction which he must meet with, in the course of his ed- 
 ucation, must convince him that if the scheme he was instructed in 
 were not false, yet that he reasoned inconclusively upon it, ami some 
 how 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 this scheme is misapplied when 
 applied to the subject of religion. But supposing the child's tem- 
 per could remain still formed to the system, and his expectation of 
 the treatment he was to have in the world be regulated by it, so as to 
 expect that no reasonable man would blame or punish him for any 
 thing which he should do, because he could not help doing it — upon 
 this supposition it is manifest he would, upon his coming abroad into 
 the world, be insupportable to society, and the treatment which he 
 
 *^Page 07. 
 
100 Of the Opinio^i of' JKWensityt Part 1. 
 
 would receive from it would render it so to liim, and 'oe could not 
 fail of doing somewhat very soon for which he would be delivered 
 over info the hands of civil justice. And thus, in the end, he would 
 be convinced of the obligations he was under to his wise instructor. 
 0.r suppose this scheme of fatality in any other way applied to prac- 
 tice, such practical application of it will be found equally absurd, 
 equally fallacious in a practical sense. For instance, that if a man 
 be destined 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 absurdi- 
 ties can be'drawn from reasoning upon the supposition that we are 
 free; but all such reasoning with regard to the common aflairs of life 
 is justified by experience. And therefore, though it were admitted 
 that this opinion of necessity were spt'culatively true, yet with re- 
 gard to practice it is as if it were false, so far as our experience 
 reaches; that is, to the whole of our present life. For, the constitu- 
 tion of the present world, and the condition in which we are actual- 
 ly placed, is as if we were free. And it may perhaps justly be con- 
 cluded, that since the whole process of action, through every step of 
 it, suspense, deliberation, inclining one way. determining, 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 nat- 
 ural government of the world, we find we are treated and dealt xvith 
 as if we were free, prior to all consideration whether we are or not. 
 Were this opinion therefore of necessity admitted to be ever so 
 true, yet such is in fact our condition and the natural course of 
 things, that whenever we apply it to life and practice, this applica- 
 tior of it always misleads us, and cann(jt but mislead us, in a most 
 dreadful manner, with regard to our present interest. And how can 
 people think thetnselves so very secure then, that the satne applica- 
 tion of the same opinion may not mislead them alsi;, in some analo- 
 gous manner, with respect to a future or more general and more im- 
 portant interest.^ For, religion being a practical subject, and the 
 analogy of nature shewitig 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 de- 
 pended upon. There \^ill still remain just reason to think, whatev- 
 PT appearances are, that we deceive ourselves: in somev.hat of a 
 like manner, as when people fancy they can draw contradictory con- 
 clusions from the idea of infinity. 
 
 From these things together, the attentive reader will see it follows, 
 that if upon supposition <tf freedom the evidence of religion be con- 
 clusive, it remains so upon supposition of necessity, because the no- 
 tion of necessity is not applicable to practical subjects, i. e. with re- 
 spect to them, is as if it were not true. Nor does this contain any 
 reflection upon reason, hut only upon what is unreasonable. For 
 to pretenid to act upon reason, in opposition to practical principles, 
 which the author or our nature gave us to act upon, and to pretend 
 *o apply <>'.ir reason to subjects, with regard to which our own shprfc 
 
Chap. VI. as infimncing Practice. IM 
 
 views, and even our experience, will shew us it cannot be depended 
 upon, and such at best the subject of necessity must be, this is vani- 
 ty, 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 reconcileable with 
 fate, it is reconcileable with it in the author of nature. And besides, 
 natural government and final causes imply a character and a will in 
 the governor and designerj* 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 ne- 
 cessity is as reconcileable with the particular character of benevo- 
 lence, veracity and justice in him, which attributes are the founda- 
 tion of rsligion, as with any other character; since we find this ne- 
 cessity 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 supposition of 
 freedom, would be just punishment, upon supposition of necessity 
 becomes manifestly unjust, fiecause it is punishment inflicted for do- 
 ing that which persons cannot avoid doing; as if (he necessity which 
 is supposed to destroy the injustice ot murder, for instance, would 
 not also destroy the injustice of punishing it However, as little to 
 the purpose as this objection is m itse'f, it is very much to the pur- 
 pose to observe from it how the notions of justice and injustice re- 
 main, even whilst we endeavor to suppose them removed; how they 
 force themselves upon the mind, even whilst we are making supposi- 
 tions 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 necessity, if it be re- 
 concileable with any thing, is reconcileable with that character in the 
 Author of nature which is the foundation of religion, "yet, does it 
 not plainly destroy the proof that he is ol that character, and conse- 
 quently the proof of religion?" By no means. For we find, that hap- 
 piness an<l misery are not our fate, in any such sense as not to be the 
 consequences of our behaviour; but that they are the consequences 
 ofitf We find God exercises the same kind of government over us 
 with that which a father exercises over his children, and a civil mag- 
 istrate over his subjects. Now, whatever becomes of abstract ques- 
 tions concerning liberty and necessity, it evidently appears to us, 
 that veracity and justice must be the natural rule and measure of ex- 
 ercising this authority or government, to a Being who can have no 
 competitions, or interfering of interests, with his creatures and his 
 subjects. 
 
 But as the doctrine of liberty, though we experience its truth, may 
 be perplexed with difficulties, which run up into the most abstruse of 
 all speculations, and as the opinion of necessity seems to he the very 
 basis upon which infidelity grounds itself, it may be of some use to 
 
 * 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,teroper, taste, dispositions, practical prin- 
 ciples; that whole trame ot mind, from whence we act in one manner rather thin an . 
 other. 
 
 ■j-Chap. ii. 
 
102 Of the Opinion of J^eeessity, Part I. 
 
 offer a more particular proof of the obligations of religion, which may 
 distinctly be shewn not to be destroyed by this opinion. 
 
 The proof from final causes of an intelligent Author of nature is 
 not aftected by the opinion of necessity, supposing necessity a thing 
 possible in itself, and rcconcileable with the constitution of things.* 
 And it is a matter of fact, independent on this or any other specula- 
 tion, that he governs the world by the method of rewards and pun- 
 ishments;! 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. t 
 Now this moral (tiscernment implies in the notion of it a rule of 
 action, and a rule of a very peculiar kindj for it carries in it author- 
 ity and a right of direction; authority in such a sense, as that we 
 cannot depart from it without 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. Consciousness of a rule or guide of action, in crea- 
 tures 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 secu- 
 rity in following it, and of danger in deviating from it. A direction 
 of the Author of nature, given to creatures capable of looking upon 
 it as such, is plainly a command from him; and a command from 
 him necessarily includes in it, 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 discernmeiit, renders the sanction explicit, and makes it ap- 
 \ pear, as one may say, expressed. For since his method of govern- 
 ment 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 rewards 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 information beforehand what we are 
 finally to expect in his 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, he made to follow virtue and vice respectively, as he has 
 already, in so peculiar a manner, associajted the ideas of them in our 
 minds. And from hence might easily be deduced the obligations of 
 religious worship, were it only to be considered as a means of pre- 
 serving upon our minds a sense of this moral government 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 moral faculty and discernment, because this is a mere 
 matter of fact, a thing of experience, that human kind is thus consti- 
 tuted; none against the conclusion, because it is immediate and 
 
 *■ P. 97, &c, f Chap. ii. i Dissertation II. § Sermon 2, at the Rolls. 
 1! Dissertation £1. 
 
Chap. VI. as influencing Practice. 103 
 
 wholly from this fact. For the conclusion, that God will finally re- 
 ward the righteous and punish the wicked, is not here drawn from its 
 appearing to us fit* that he should, but from its appearing that he has 
 told us he will. And this he hath certainly told us, in the promise 
 and threatening which it hath been observed the notion of a com- 
 mand implies, and the sense of good and ill desert which he has 
 given us, more distincly 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;! and by this, that God, in 
 the natural course of his providence, punishes vicious actions as mis- 
 chievous to society, and also vicious actions, as such in the strictest 
 sense, t So that the general 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 aftect. 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 Governor and Judge of mankind, and will upon the whole 
 deal with every one according to his works; I say, suppose a persoa 
 convinced of this by reason, but to know nothing at all of antiquity, 
 or the present state of mankind; it would be nataural for such an 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 believed 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 ignorant of it; then, though its evidence from reason 
 would remain, there would be no additional probability of its truth, 
 from the account of its discovery. But instead of this being the fact 
 of the case, on the contrary be would find, what could not but afford 
 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 certain in- 
 formation relating to this matter. Secondly, that it is certain histor- 
 ical fact, so far as we can trace things up, that this whole system of 
 belief, that there is one God, the Creator and moral Governor 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 
 
 * However, I am far from intending to deny that the will of God is determined, hj 
 what is fit, by the right and reason of the case; though one chooses to decline matter.- 
 of such abstvact 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 for every one to consult hia 
 own happiness, then fitness of action, or the right and reason of the case, is an intelligi- 
 ■Ifle manner of speaking. And it seems as inconceivable to suppose God to approve one 
 course of action, or one end, preferable to another, which yet his acting at all from de- 
 sign implies that he does, without supposing somewhat prior in that end to be the ground 
 of the preference, as to suppose him to discern an absti-act proposition to be true, with- 
 out supposing somewhat prior in 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 rightnes of actions and 
 f^Tids, as founded in the nature of things, than to speak of abstract truth, as thus founded 
 
 tP.70. tP.66,&c. 
 
'l$l|4 Of the Opinion 'of ^'*ecesiityy Part I. 
 
 or traditional evidence, as ancient as history, that it was taught first 
 by revelation. Now these things must be allowed to be of great weight. 
 The first of them, general consent, shews this system to be conform- 
 able 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 addi- 
 tions 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 yvorld by 
 revelation, or that it is natural, obvious, and forces itself upon tke 
 mind. The former of these is the conclusion of learned men. And 
 whoever will consider how unapt for speculation rude and unculti- 
 vated minds are, will, perhaps from hence alone, be strongly inclined 
 to believe it the truth. And as it is shewn in the second part* of this 
 treatise, that there is nothing of such peculiar presumption against a 
 revelation in tlie beginning 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, o^ the early pre- 
 tences to revelation, than by supposing some real original one, from 
 whence they were copied. And the third thing abovementioued, that 
 there is express historical 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 tauglit. 
 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 shew, 
 that religion came into the world by revelation, prior to all consider- 
 ation of the proper authority of any book supposed to contain it, and 
 even prior to all consideration whether the revelation itself be uncor- 
 ruptly handed down aud 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 e.rfernci evidence, 
 even of natural religion, is by no means inconsiderable. 
 
 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 spec- 
 ulative reason may be neglected, prejudiced and deceived — so also 
 may our moral understanding be impaired and perverted, and the 
 dictates of it not impartially attended to. This indeed proves nothing 
 against the reality of our speculative or practical faculties of percep- 
 tion; 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 prejudice 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 custoin, and fashion, and slight notions ' 
 of honoor, or imaginations of present ease, use and convenience to 
 mankind for the only moral rulef 
 
 The foregoing observations, drawn from the nature of the thing, 
 and the history of religion, amount, when taken together, to a real 
 
 * Chap. ii. I Dissertation II. 
 
(JiiAP. VI. as influenced by Practice. 105 
 
 practical proof of it, not to be confuted; such a proof as, cons?dering 
 the iolinite importance of the thing, I apprehend would be admitted 
 fully sufficient, in reason, to inHuence the actions of men wlio-act 
 upon thought and reflection, if it were admitted that there is no proof 
 of the rontrary. But it may be said, " there are many probabilities, 
 which cannot indeed be confuted, i. e. shewn to be no probabilities, 
 and yet may be overbalanced by greater probabilities on the other 
 side; much more by demonstration. And there is no occasion to 
 object against particular arguments alleged for an opinion, when 
 the opinion itself may be clearly shewn to be false, without meddling 
 with sueh arguments at all, but leaving them just as they are. Now 
 the method of government by rewards and punishments, and espe- 
 cially rewarding and punishing good and ill ilesert, as such, respec- 
 tively, must go upon supposition that we are free, anel not necessary 
 agents. And it is incredible that the Author of nature should gov- 
 ern us upon a supposition as true, which he knows to be false; and 
 therefore absurd to think he will reward or punish us for our actions 
 hereafter, especially that he will do it under the notion that thej 
 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, shews beyond possibility of doubt, that the conclusion 
 from this reasoning is false, wherever the fallacy lies. The doctrine 
 of freedom indeed clearly shows where; \n supposing ourselves ne- 
 cessary, when in truth we are free agents. But upon the supposi- 
 tion of necessity, the fallacy lies in taking for granted, that it is 
 incredible necessary agents should be rewarded and punished. But 
 that, some how or other, the conclusion now mentioned is false^, 
 is most certain. For it is fact, that God does govern even brute 
 creatures by the method of rewards and punishments, in the natural 
 course of things. And men are rewarded and punished for their 
 actions, punished for actions mischievous to society as being so, pun- 
 ished for vicious actions, as such, by the natural instrumentality of 
 eaclf other, under the present conduct of Providence. Nay even the 
 affection of gratitude, and the passion of resentment, and the re- 
 wards and punishments following from them, which in general are to 
 be considered as natural, i. e. from tlie Author of nature — these re- 
 wards and punishments, being naturally* annexed to actions consid- 
 ered as implying, good intention and good desert, ill intention and 
 ill desert — these natural rewards and punishments, I say, are as 
 much a contradiction to the conclusion above, and shew its false- 
 hoo<l, as a more exact and complete rewarding and punishing of good 
 and ill desert, as such. So that if it be incredible that necessary 
 agen.ts should be thus rewarded and punished, then men are not ne- 
 cessary, but free; since it is matter of fact that they are thus rewar- 
 ded 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 farther^upposition of 
 necessary agents being thus rewarded and punished, since we onr- 
 seves are thus dealt with. 
 
 * Sermon 8i.b, at the Rolls, 
 
 o 
 
106 Of the Opinion of JVecessity, Part I. 
 
 From the vrhole, thereforey it must follow, that a necessity suppo- 
 sed 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 govern- 
 ment, render his creatures happy or miserable, by some means or 
 other, as they behave well or ill. Or, to express this conclusion in 
 words conformable to the title of the chapter, the analogy of nature 
 shews us, that the opinion of necessity, 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 revealed. 
 
 From these things likewise we may learn, in what sense to under- 
 stand that general assertion, that the opinion of necessity is essen- 
 tially destructive of all religion. First in a practical sense; that by 
 this notion, atheistical men pretend to satisfy and encourage them* 
 selves 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 ex- 
 perience in ourselves, and so overturns every thing. But by no 
 means is this assertion to be understood, as if necessity, supposing it 
 could possibly be reconciled with the constitution of things and with 
 what we experience, were not also reconcileable with religion; foi* 
 upon this supposition it demonstrably is so. 
 
 r1 
 
Chap. VIL Of the Qovemmtnt of God, 107 
 
 CHAP. VIL 
 
 Of the Government of God, considered as a Schent or Comtitution* 
 imperfectly comprehendid. 
 
 THOUGH it he, as it cannot but be, acknowledged, that the anal- 
 ogy of nature gives a strong credibility to the general doctrine of reli- 
 gion, and to the several particular things contained in it, considered 
 as so many matters of fact, and likewise that it shews this credibility 
 not to be destroyed by any notions of necessity —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 objec- 
 tions analogy can be no direct answer. For the credibility or the 
 certain truth of a matter of fact does not immediately prove any 
 thing concernins; the wisdom or goodness of it; and analogy can do 
 no more, immediately or directly, than shew such and such 'things to 
 be true or credible, considered only as matters of fact. But still, if, 
 upon supposition of a moral constitution of nature and a moral gov- 
 ernment 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 distri- 
 butive justice and goodness, and likewise that it must be a scheme 
 so imperfectly comprehended, and of such a sort in other respects, 
 as to afford a direct general answer to all objections against the jus- 
 tice and goodness of it — then analogy is^ remotely, of great service 
 in answering those objections, both by suggesting the answer, and 
 shewing it to be a credible one. 
 
 Now this, upon inquiry, will be found to be the case. For, first, 
 upon supposition that God exercises a moral government over the 
 world, the analogy of his natural government suggests and makes it 
 credible that his moral government must be a scheme quite beyond 
 our comprehension; and this affords a general answer to all objections 
 against the justice and goodness of it. And, secondly, a more dis- 
 tinct observation of some particular things contained in 6od*s scheme 
 of natural government, the like things being supposed by analogy to 
 be contained in his moral governiiient, will farther shew how little 
 weight is to be laid upon these objections. 
 
 I. Upon supposition that God exercises a moral government over 
 the world, the analogy of his natural government suggests and makes 
 it credible that his moral government must be a scheme quite beyond 
 Qur comprehension; and this affords a general answer to ail objections 
 against the justice and goodness of it. It is most obvious, analogy 
 renders it highly credible, that upon supposition of a moral govern- 
 ment, it must be a scheme; for the world, and the whole natural gov- 
 
108 The Government of Ood, J?a ui I 
 
 ernment of it, appears to be so, to be a scheme, system, or constitu- 
 tion, whose parts correspond to eacfi other and to a whole, as really 
 as any work of art, or as any particular miodel of a civil constitution 
 and government. In this great scheme of the natural world, individ- 
 uals have various peculiar relations to other individuals of Ihcir own 
 species. And whole species are, we find, variously related to other 
 apecies upon this earth. Nor do we know how much farther these 
 kinds of relations may extend. And, as there is not any action or 
 laatural event, which we are acquainted \Tith, so sinj^lc and uncon- 
 nected as not to have a respect to some other actions and events— 
 so possibly each of thetn, 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, v.lietlier all crea- 
 tures, actions and events, throughout the whole of nature, have rela- 
 tions to each other. But, as it is obvious that all events have future 
 unknown coftsequences, so if we tiace any as far as we can go into 
 what is connected with it, we shall find, that if such event were not 
 connected with somewhat farther in nature unknown to us, soiiie- 
 M'hat both past and present, stch event could not possibly have been 
 at all. Nor can we give the whole account of any one thing what- 
 ever; <)f all its causes, ends and n^ecessary adjuncts: those adjuncts, 
 I mean, without which it could not have been, liy this most aston- 
 ishing connexion, these reciprocal corresp«ntlencies and mutual rela* 
 tions, every thing which we see in the course of nature is actually 
 brought about. And things seemingly the most insignificant imagin- 
 able, are perpetually observwl to be necessary conditions to other 
 things of the greatest importance; so that any one thing whatever 
 may for ought ue know to the contrary, be a necessary condition to 
 any other. The natural world then, and natural government of it^ 
 being such an incomprehensible scheme, so incomprehensible that a 
 man must really in the literal sense knovv nothing at all, who is not 
 sensible of his ignorance in it, this immediately su^i^ests, and strong- 
 ly shews the credibility, that the moral world and government of it 
 may be so too. Indeed the natural am;! moral constitution and gov- 
 t;rnment of the woild are se connected, as to make up together but 
 one scheme; and it is highly probable, that the first is formed and 
 carried on merelj"- in subserviency to the lat'cr, as the vegetable 
 world is- for the animal, and organized bodies for minds, lint the 
 thing intended here is, witiiout inquiring how far the administration 
 of the natural world is subordinate to that of the moral, only to ob- 
 serve the credibility that one should be analogous or siinilar to the 
 other; that theiefore every act of divine justice and goodness may be 
 supposed to look much beyond itself, and its immediate object; may 
 have some reference to otlier parts of God's moral administration, 
 and to a general moral plan: and that every circumstance of this his 
 moral government may be adjusted beforehand with a view to the 
 whole of it. Tl:us for example,; — ^tlie determined length of fime^and 
 the degrees and way in which virtue is to remain in a state of war- 
 fare and discipline, and in which wickedness is perp^itted to have its 
 progress; tr.e times appointed for the execution of justice; the ap- 
 yoitited i;istruments of it; the kinds of rewards and punishments. 
 
C«AP. XLl. a Scheme incomprehensiixk, 1Q9 
 
 and the manaers of their distribution; all particular instances of 
 <livine jusfice arid goodness, and every circumstance of them, may. 
 have sucli respects to each qjther as to make up altogether a whole,' 
 connected and related in all its parts; a scheme or system 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 tliat we are not com- 
 petent 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 Qur 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 lea- 
 sonable men, always to bear in mind the degree of our ignorance, 
 and make due allowances for it. Upon tliese accounts, it may not 
 be useless to go on a little farther, in order to shew more distinctly 
 how just an answer our ignorance is, to objections against the scheme 
 of Providence. Suppose then a person boldly to assert that the 
 things complained^ of, the origin and continuance of evil, might easi- 
 ly have been prevented by repeated interpositions;* interpositions 
 30 guarded and circumstanced, as would preclude all mischief aris- 
 ing from them; or, if this were impracticable, that a scheme of gov- 
 ernment is itself an imperfection, since more good might have been 
 produced without any scheme, system, or constitution at all, by con- 
 tinued single unrelated acts of distributive justice and goodness; be- 
 cause these would have occasioned no irregularities. And farther 
 than this, it is presumed, the objections will not be carried. Yet 
 the answer is obvious, that were these assertions true, still the obser- 
 vations above, concerning our ignorance in the scheme of divine gov- 
 ernment, and the consequence from it, would hold in great meas- 
 ure, enough to vindicate religion against all objections from the dis- 
 orders of the present state. Were these assertions true, yet thn 
 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. Kut indeed they arc mere arbitrary assertions, 
 no man being sujfficiently 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 con- 
 tradictions, 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 all objections against the justice and 
 goodness of Providence. If a man, contemplating any one provi- 
 dential dispensation, wiiich had no relation to any others, should ob- 
 ject, that he discerned in it a disregard to justice, or a deficiency of 
 goodness, notliing would be loss an answer toswch 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 w« 
 
 * Pp.^o 11!. 
 
110 The Government of Godf Part I. 
 
 know not but the parts objected against may be relative to other 
 parts unknown to us, and when we are unacquainted with 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 unknown 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 
 farther appear, by a more distinct observation 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 governr 
 ment. 
 
 First, 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 a'joi't ends, in. such a measure desirable as 
 greatly to overbalance the disagreeableness of the means. And in 
 cases where such means are conducive to such ends, it is not reason, 
 but experience, which shews us that they are thus condusive. Ex- 
 perience also shews 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 
 observations 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 other's power to the degree it is, and ma- 
 king men liable to vice to the degree we are — and in general, that 
 those things which are objected against the moral scheme of Provi- 
 dence, may be, upon the whole, friendly and assistant to virtue, and 
 productive of an overbalance of happiness, i. e. the things objected 
 against may be means, by which an overbalance of good will, in the 
 end, be found produced. And from the same observations, it ap- 
 pears to be no presumption against this, that we do not, if indeed 
 we do not, see those means to have any such tendency, or that they 
 seem to us to have a contrary one. Thus those things which we call 
 irregularities, may not be so at all; because they may be means of 
 accomplishing wise and good ends more considerable. 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, jn order to ob- 
 viate 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 per- 
 fection and happiness of the world; and though the actual permis- 
 sion of evil may be beneficial to it, (i. e. it would have been more 
 mischievous, not that a wicked person had himself abstained from 
 his own wickedness, but that any one had forcibly prevented it, than 
 that it was permitted) yet notwithstanding, 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 commission 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 disorders 
 whicii 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; 
 
Chap. VII. a Scheme incomprehensible. Ill 
 
 yet it 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, 
 
 Secondly, the natural government of the world is carried on by 
 general laws. For this there may be wise and good reasons; the wi- 
 sest and best, for ought we know to the contrary. And that there 
 are such reasons, is suggested to our thoughts by the analogy of na- 
 ture; by our being made to experience good ends to be accomplish- 
 ed, 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 wc have scarce any kind of enjoyments but what we are in some 
 way or other, instrumental in procuring ourselves, by acting in a man- 
 ner which we foresee likely to procure them; now this foresight 
 could not be at all, were not the government of the world carried on 
 by general laws. And though, for ought 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 gov- 
 ernment. 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 irregularites, though they could not have been prevented or 
 remedied by any general laws. And there would indeed be reason to 
 wish, which, by the way, is very difterent from a right to claim, that 
 all irregularities were prevented or remedied by present interposi- 
 tions, if these interpositions would have no other effect than tijis. 
 But it is plain they would have some visible and immediate bad ef- 
 fects; for instance, they would encourage idleness and negligence, 
 and they would render doubtful the natural rule of life, which is as- 
 certained by this very thing, that the course of the world is carried 
 on by general laws. And farther, it is certain they would have dis- 
 tant effects, and very great ones too, by means of the wonderful con- 
 nexion 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 interposi- 
 tions, whenever there was occasion for them; but this again is talk- 
 ing quite at random, and in the dark.f Upon the whole then, we see 
 wise reasons, why the course of the world should be carried on by 
 general laws, and good ends accomplished by this means; and, for 
 ought we know, there may be the wisest reasons for it, and the best 
 ends accomplished oy it. We have no ground to believe, that all ir- 
 regularities could be remedied as they arise, or could have been pre- 
 cluded, by general laws. We find that interpositions would produce 
 evil, and prevent good; and, for ought we know, they would produce 
 greater evil than they would prevent; and prevent greater good than 
 they would produce. And if this l» the case, then the not interpo- 
 sing 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. 
 
 • Page 107, kc f ^09. 
 
1X2 The Government of God, Paui I, 
 
 But it may be said, that "after all, these supposed impossibilities 
 and relations are what we are unacquainted with, and we must jadjic 
 of religion, as of other things, by what we do know, and look upon 
 the rest as nothin'g; or however, that the answers 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 igno- 
 rance." J3ut, 
 
 First, though total ignorance in any matter dcfes 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 character, and conse- 
 quently will pursue such ends, tltotigh we are greatly ignorant what 
 is the proper way of acting, in order the most eifectually to obtain 
 those ends; and in this case, objections against his manner of a,cting, 
 as seemingly not conducive to obtain them, might be answered by 
 our ignorance, though the proof that such ends were inteniLed might 
 not at all he invalidated by it. Thus the proof of religion is a proof 
 of the moral character of God, and consequently that his govern- 
 ment is moral, and that every one upon the whole shall receive ac- 
 cording 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 onler the most eftectually to accomplish this end.* 
 Therefore our ignorance is an answer to objections against the con- 
 duct of Providence in permitting irregularities, as seeming contra- 
 (iictory 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 utl'ect the proof of it, till it can be shewn, it is frivolous to assert 
 that our ignorance invalidates the proof of religion, as it does tlie 
 Jibjections against it. 
 
 Secondly, suppose unknown impossibilities and unknown relations 
 might justly be urged to invalidate the proof of religion, as well as 
 to answer objections against it, and that in consequence of this the 
 proof of it were doubtful — yet still, let the assertion be despised, or let 
 it be lidiculed, it is undeniably true that moral obligations would re- 
 main certain, though it were not certain what would, upon the whole, 
 be the consequences of observing or violating them. Kor, these ob- 
 ligations arise immediately aad 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 considera- 
 tions of interest. For though it were doubtful what will be the fu- 
 ture consequences of virtue and vice, yet it is, however, credible, 
 that they may have those consequences which religion teaches us 
 they will; and this credibility is a certain! obligation in point of pru- 
 dence, to abstain from all wickedness, and to live in the conscien- 
 tious practice of all that is good. But, 
 
 Thirdly, the answers above given to the objections against reli- 
 gion, cannot equally be made use of to invalidate the proof of it. 
 For, upon supposition 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 com- 
 
 • Page 43. j Part 11 Chap vi. 
 
 I 
 
Chap. VIT. a Scfieme incomprehensible. 1^3 
 
 prehension. And a thousand particular analogies shew u«, that 
 parts of such a scheme, from their relation to other parts, may con- 
 duce to accomplrsh ends, which we sliould 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 ten- 
 dency to prevent. And therefore all these analogies shew, that the 
 way of arguing made use of in objecting against religion, is delusive; 
 because they shew it is not at all incredible,that,couid we comprehend 
 the whole, we should find the permission of the disorders objected 
 against to be consistent with justice and goodness, and even to be in* 
 stances of them. Now this is not applicable to the proof of reli- 
 gion, as it is to the objections against it;* and therefore cannot ia- 
 validatc t!iat proof, as it does these objections. 
 
 Lastly, from the observation now made, it is easy to see, that the 
 answers above given to the objections 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 shews us cojicerning it. For analogy 
 shews us positively, that .our ignorance in the possibilities of things, 
 and the various relations in nature, renders us incompetent jitd^es, 
 and leads us to false conclusions, in cases similar to this, in which 
 we pretejid to judge and to object. So t.hat the things above insisted 
 upon, are not mere suppositions of unknown impossibilities and rela- 
 tions, but they are suggested to our thoughts and even forced upon 
 the observation of serious men, and remiered credible too, by the 
 analogy of nature. And therefore, to take these things into the ac- 
 count, is to judge by experience and what we do know: and it is not 
 judging so, to take no notice of them. 
 
 *■ Sermon nt the Rolls, page 31 C, '2d 5 J. 
 
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. 
 Whether 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 as a fixed but a progressive one, every way incompre- 
 hensible; incomprehensible in a manner equally with respect to 
 what has been, what now is, and what shall be hereafter. And this 
 scheme cannot but contain in it somewhat as wonderful and as much 
 beyond our thought and conception! as any thing in that of religion. 
 For, will any man in his senses say, that it is less difficult to con- 
 ceive how the world came to be and to continue as it is, without, 
 than with, an intelligent 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 conception than that which we call moral? 
 Indeed, without an intelligent author and governor of nature, no 
 account at all can be given how this universe, or the part of it partic' 
 ularly in whioh we are concerned, came to be, and the course of it 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 natural governor of the world, is a principle gone upon ia the 
 foregoing treatise, as proved, and generally 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 nature which he has given us, leads us 
 to conclude his will and character to be moral, just and good — so we 
 can scarce in imagination conceive what it can be otherwise. How- 
 ever, 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 im- 
 possible, 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 
 
 • P. 107, 8tc. t See Part II. Chap. ». t P. 101. 
 
116 CottcluMun. Pari I. 
 
 the midst of wliich we find ourselves, will, at length, come out and 
 produce; a scheme in which it is certain we are highly interested, 
 and in which we may be interested even bey<md conception. For 
 many things prove it palpably absurd to conclude, that we shall cease 
 to be at death. Particular analogies do most sensibly shew us, that 
 there is nothing to be thought strange, in our being to exist in another 
 state of life. And that we are not living beings affords a strong prob- 
 ability that we shall eontimie 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 contrary to experience. Ex- 
 perience too most clearly shews us the folly of concluding, from the 
 body and the living agent affecting each other mutually, that the dis- 
 solution of the former is the destruction 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 ct>rtain, opens an unbounded prospect to our 
 hopes and eur fears; since we see the constitution of nature 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, t1iat our future 
 interest depends upon our present behaviour; for we see our present 
 interest, doth, and that the happiness and misery which are naturally 
 annexed to our actions, very frequently do not foUOw till long after 
 the actions are dpne 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 regard, the whole sense of things which he has given 
 us plainly leads us, at once and without any elaborate inquiries, to 
 think that it may, indeed must, be to good actions chiefly that he hath 
 annexed happiness, and to bad actions misery; or that he will, upon 
 the whole, reward those who do well, and punish those wlio do evil. 
 To confirm this from the constitution of the world, it has been ob- 
 served, 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 punislied, not only as beneficial and mischievous to society, but 
 also as virtuous and vicious; and that there is, in the very nature of 
 the thing, a tendency to their being rewarded and punished in a much 
 higher degree than they are at present. And though this higher de- 
 i^ree of distributive justice, which nature thus points out and leads 
 towards, is prevented for a time from taking place, it is by obstacles 
 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 
 ijatmal conduct of Providence, are ybservable on the side of virtue^ 
 
Part I. Conclusion. 11/ 
 
 90 there is nothing to be set against them on the siile of vice. A 
 moral scheme of government then is visibly established, and in some 
 degree carried into executionj and this, together with the essential 
 tendencies of virtue and vice duly considered, naturally raise in us 
 an apprehension, 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 Tture and general interest, 
 under the moral government of God, is appointed to depend upon 
 our behaviour, notwithstanding the difficulty which this may occasion 
 of securing it, aiiA the danger of losing it, just in the same manner 
 as our temporal interest, under his natural government, is appointed 
 to depend upon our behaviour, notwithstanding the like difficulty 
 and danger. For, from our original constitution, and that of tha 
 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 mis- 
 ery and ruin. From thes.e temptations arise the difficulties of behav- 
 ing so as to secure our temporal interest, and the hazard of behaving 
 so as to miscarry in it. There is therefore 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 beyond our comprehension; but it is in 
 part accounted 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 happiness 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 he a school of discipline for 
 improving in ourselves that character. Now this intention of nature 
 is rendered highly credible by observing, that we are plainly made 
 lor improvement of all kinds; that it is a general appointment of 
 Providence 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 19 
 naturally appointed to be a state of discipline for mature age; and 
 that the present world is peculiarly fitted for a state of moral disci- 
 pline. And whereas objections are urged against the whole notion 
 of moral government and a probation state, from the opinion of neces° 
 sity, it has been shewn, that God has given us the evidence, as it 
 were, of experience, that all objections against religion on this head 
 are vain and delusive. He has also, in his natural government, sug- 
 gested an answer to all our short sighted objections against the equity 
 and goodiiess, of his moral government; and in genera! he has exem- 
 plified 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 condition, and what they have to do. It is 
 absurd, absurd to the degree of being ridiculous, if tha subject were 
 not of so serious a kind, for men to thiok themselves, secure in 9. 
 
il8 Conclusion. Part I 
 
 vicious life, or even in that immoral thoughtlessness which far the 
 greatest part of them are fallen into. And the credibility of religion, 
 arising from experience and facts here considered, 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 administration established in nature, 
 and a future judgment in consequence of itj especially when we con- 
 sider 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 temptatioas 
 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 insignificant, as, h 
 the view of reason, to be almost nothing in themselves; and in com- 
 parison with the importance of religion, they quite disappear and are 
 lost. Mere passion indeed may be alleged, though not as a rea- 
 son, yet as an excuse, for a vicious course of life. And how sorry an 
 excuse it is will be manifest by observing, that we are placed in a 
 condition, in whicl^we are unavoidably inured to govern 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 re- 
 gards, as virtue and piety in the ordinary course of things require. 
 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 ap- 
 prehension of God under the character of a righteoi^s governor and 
 judge; a nature and conscience and apprehension given us by him; 
 and from the confirmation of the dictates of reason, by life and im- 
 mortality brought to light by the Gospel; and the wrath of God re- 
 vealed from heaven, against all ungodliness, and unrighteousness of 
 men. 
 
 ♦ Part 11. Chap. Ti. t P='ge 64, 65. 
 
THE 
 
 ANALOGY OF RELIGION 
 
 TO THE 
 
 CONSTITUTION AND COURSE OF NATURE. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 OF REVEALED RELIGION. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Of the Importance of Christianity. 
 
 SOME persons, upon pretence of the sufficiency of the light of na- 
 ture, avowedly reject all revelation, as in its very notion incredible, 
 and what must be fictitious. 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 wanting and useless. But no man . 
 in seriousness and simplicity of mind, can possibly think it so, who 
 considers the state of religion in the heathen world, before revela- 
 tion, and its present state in those places which have borrowed no 
 light from it; particularly the doubtfulness of some of the greatest 
 men concerning things of the utmost importance, as well as the nat- 
 ural inattention and ignorance of mankind in general. It is impos- 
 sible to say who would have been able to have reasoned out that 
 whole system, which we call natural religion, in its genuine simplici- 
 ty, clear of superstition; but there is certainly no ground to affirm 
 that the generality could. If they could, there is no sort of proba- 
 bility that they would. Admitting there were, they would highly 
 want a standing admonition, to remind them of it, and inculcate 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 supposi- 
 tion there would be various occasions for supernatural instruction 
 and assistance, and the greatest advantages might be afforded by 
 them. So that to say, revelation is a thing superfluous, what there 
 was 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 completely happy, that it is a contradiction to suppose our 
 condition capable of being in any respect bett«". 
 
120 Of the Importance Part II. 
 
 There are otFicr persons, not to be ranked with these, who seem to 
 be getting into a way of neglecting, and, as it were, overlooking rev- 
 elation as of small importance, provided natural religion be kept too. 
 "With little regard either to the evidence of the former, or to the ob- 
 jections against it, and even upon supposition of its truth, " the only 
 clesign 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 practice 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 revelation, is no great matter."* This way of considering reve- 
 Jation, though it is not the same with the former, yet borders nearly 
 upon it, and very much, at length, runs up into it, and requires to be 
 particularly considered, with regard to the persons who seem to be 
 getting into this way. The consideration of it will likewise farther 
 shew the extravagance of the former opinion, and the truth of the 
 observations in answer to it, just mentioned. And an inquiry into 
 the importance of Christianity, cannot be an improper introduction 
 to a treatise concerning the credibility of it. 
 
 Now if God has given a revelation to m nkind, and commanded 
 those things which are commanded in Christianity, it is evident, at 
 first sight, that it cannot in anv wise be an indifferent matter, wheth- 
 er we obey or disobey those commands, unless we are certainly as- 
 sured that we know all the reasons for them, and that all those rea- 
 sons are now ceased, with regard to mankind in general, or to our- 
 selves in particular. And it is absolutely impossible w? can be as- 
 sured of this. For our ignorance of these reasons proves nothing in 
 the case, since the whole analogy of nature shews, what is indeed in 
 itself evident, that there may be infinite reasons for things, with 
 which we are not acquainted. 
 
 But the importance of Christianity will more distinctly appear, 
 by considering it more distinctly. First, as a republication and ex» 
 ternal institution of natural or essential religion, adapted to the 
 present circumstances of mankind, and intended to promote natural 
 piety and virtue: and, secondly, as containing an account of a dis- 
 pensation of things, not discoverable by reason, in consequence of 
 which several distinct precepts are enjoined us. For tiiough natural 
 religion is the foundation and principal part of Christianity, it is not 
 in any sense the whole of it. 
 
 I. Christianity is a republication of natural religion. 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 ia 
 his law; and that he will finally judge mankind ia righteousness, and 
 render to all according to their works, in a future state. And, 
 which is very material, it teaches natural religion in its genuine sim- 
 plicity, free from those superstitions with which it was totally cor- 
 rupted, and under which it was in a manner lost. 
 
 * Invenis multos— — propterea nolle fieri Christianos, quia quasi sufficiunt sibi de bo- 
 njvitnsua. Bene vivere opus est, ait. Quid miiii prtecepturus est Christus? Utbere 
 vivam? Jam bene vivo. Quid mihi necessai-ius est Chrislusf Nullum homicidium, 
 nullum furtura, nuilam rapinam fucio, res alienas non concupisco, nullo adulterio con- 
 tnniinor. Nam inveniatur in vita mea al'quid quod reprohendatur, et qui reprehen- 
 derJt facint ChnGttaaurr*. ' Acs. iw Psit. lijrsi^ 
 
Chap. I. of Chriatianily. IS I 
 
 Revelation is farther an authoritative publication of natural reli- 
 gion, and so affords the evidence of testimony for the truth of it. 
 Indeed the mii-acles and prophecies recorded in Scripture were in- 
 tended to prove a particular dispensation of Providence, the redemp- 
 tion 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 
 likewise continually taught expressly, and insisted upon, by those 
 persons who wrought the miracles and delivered the prophecies. So 
 that iiideed natural religion seems a^ much proved by the Scripture 
 revelation, as it would have been had the design of revelation been 
 nothing el&e (lian to prove it. 
 
 But it may possibly be disputed, how far miracles can prove natu- 
 ral 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. For suppose a person to teach 
 natural religion to a nation, who had lived in total ignorance or forget- 
 fulness of it, and to declare he was commissioned by God so to do- 
 suppose him, in proof of his commission, to foretel things future 
 which no human foresight could have guessed at, to divide the sea 
 with a word, feed great multitudes with bread from heaven, cure all 
 manner of diseases, and raise the dead, even himself, to life — 
 would not this give additional credibility to his teaching, a credibili- 
 ty beyond what that of a common man would have, and be an author- 
 itative publication of the law of nature, i. e. a new proof of it.** It 
 would lie a practical one, of the strongest kind, perhaps, which hu- 
 man creatures are capable of having given them. The Law of Mo- 
 ses then, and the Gospel of Christ, are authoritative publications of 
 the religion of nature; they aSbrd a proof of God's general provi- 
 dence, as moral governor of the world, as well as of his particular 
 dispensations of providenc* towards sinful creatures, revealed in 
 the Law and the Gospel. As they are the only evidence of the lat- 
 ter, so they are an additional evidence of the former. 
 
 To shew this further, let us suppoge a man of the greatest and 
 most improved capacity, who had never heard of revelation, convin- 
 ced upon the whole, notwithstanding the disorders of the world, 
 that it was under the direction and moral government of an infinite- 
 ly perfect Being, but ready to question whether he were not got be- 
 yond the jreach of his faculties — suppose him brought, by this suspi- 
 cion, inte great danger of being carried away by the universal bad 
 example of almost every one around him, who appeared to have no 
 sense, no practical sense at least, of these things— -and this, perhaps, 
 would be as advantageous a situation with regard to religion, as na- 
 ture alone ever placed any man in. What a confirmation 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 th^ir commission from him, by 
 making it appear, that he had entrusted thera with a powfr of sus- 
 pending and changing the general laws of nature. 
 Q 
 
1£2 The Importance Part IL 
 
 Nor must it by any means be omitted, for it is a thing of the ut- 
 most importance, that life and immortality are eminently brought to 
 light by the Gospel. The great doctrines of a future state, the danger 
 of a course of wickedness, and the efficacy of repentance, 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 an<i purposes when it 
 "was first published, by the miraculous publication itself, so it was in- 
 tended to serve the same purposes in future ages, by means of the 
 settlement of a visible church; of a society distinguished from com- 
 mon ones, and from the rest of the world, by peculiar religious in- 
 stitutions, by an instituted 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, Chiist and his apostles, only taught, and by miracles 
 proved, religion to their cotemporaries, the benefits of their instruc- 
 tions would have reached but to a small part of mankind. Chris- 
 tianity must have been, in a great degree, sunk and forgot in a very 
 few ages. To prevent this, appears to have been one reason why a 
 visible church was instituted; to be like a city upon a hill, a stan- 
 ding memorial 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 propa- 
 gate it throughout all generations to the end of the world — the light 
 of revelation considered here in no other view than as designed to 
 etiforce natural religion. And in proportion as Christianity is pro- 
 fessed and taught in the world, religion, natural or essential religion, 
 is thus distinctly and advantageously laid before mankind, and 
 brought again and again to their thoughts, as a matter of infinite im- 
 portance. A visible church has also a farther tendency to promote 
 natural religion, as being an instituted method of education, origin- 
 ally intended to be of more peculiar advantage to those who would 
 conform to it. For one end of the institution was, that by admoni- 
 tion and reproof, as well as instruction, by a general regular disci- 
 pline, and public exercises of religion, the body of Christ, as the 
 Scripture speaks, should be edified, i. e. trained up in piety and vir- 
 tue, for a higher and better state. This settlement then appearing 
 thus beneficial, tending in the nature of tlie 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 theu*. Take away every thing of 
 this kind, and you lose the very notion itself. So that if the things 
 now mentioned are advantages, the reason and importance of posi- 
 tive institutions in general is most obvious, since without them these 
 advantages could not be secured to the world. And it is mere idle 
 wantonness, to insist upon knowing the reasons why such particular 
 ones were fixed upon, rather than others. 
 
Chap. I. of Christianittf. 123 
 
 The benefit arising from this supernatural assistance which Chris- 
 tianity affords to natural religion, is what some persons are rery 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 sit- 
 uation 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 distinst, and as much tending to influence their practice? 
 
 The objections against all this, from the perversion of Christian!' 
 ty, and from the supposition of its having had but little good influ- 
 ence, however innocently they may be proposed, yet cannot be in- 
 sisted upon as conclusive upon any principles but such as lead to 
 downright atheism; because the manifestation of the law of nature 
 by reason, which upon all the principles of theism must have been 
 from God, has been perverted and rendered ineffectual in the same 
 Tnanner. It may indeed, I think truly be said, that the good effects 
 of Christianity have not been small; nor its supposed ill effects sny 
 eflfects at ail of it, properly speaking. Perhaps too the things them- 
 selves 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 arguments against it upon principles of theism. 
 For one cannot proceed one step in reasoning upon natural religion, 
 any more than upon Christianity, without laying it down as a first 
 principle, that the dispensations 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.* The light of reason does not, any more than that of rev- 
 elation, force men to submit to its authority; 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 expe- 
 rience shews, that this is God's general rule of government. 
 
 To return then: Christianity being a promulgation of the law of 
 nature, being moreover an authoritative promulgation of it, with new 
 light, and other circumstances of peculiar advantage adapted to the 
 wants of mankind — these things fully shew 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 pro- 
 mulgation and enforcement of religion. For it is the very scheme of 
 the gospel, that each Christian should, in his degree, contribute to- 
 wards continuing and carrying it on; all by uniting in the public 
 profession and external practice of Christianity; some by instruc- 
 ting, by having the oversight, and taking care of this religious com- 
 munity, the church of God. Now this farther shews the importance 
 
 * liev. xxii. 11. 
 
iSH The impurianct pARxtl. 
 
 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 serious consideration, and the danger there must ne- 
 cessarily be, not only in treating it despitefully, which 1 am not now 
 speaking of, but in disregarding and neglecting it. For this is neg- 
 lecting to do what is expressly enjoined us, for continuing those ben- 
 efits to the world, and transmitting them down to future times; and 
 all this holds, even though the only thing to be considered in Chris- 
 tianity were its subserviency to natural religion. But, 
 
 II. Christianity is to be considered in a further view, as contain- 
 ing an account of a dispensation of things not at all discoverable hy 
 reason, in consequence of which several distinct precepts are enjoin- 
 ed us. Christianity is not only an external institution of natural re- 
 ligion, and a new promulgation of God's general providence, as 
 righteous governor and judge of the world, but it contains also a rev- 
 elation 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 con- 
 sequence of this revelation being made, we are commanded to be bap- 
 tized, not only in the name of the Father, but also of the Son, and 
 of the Haly Ghost; and other obligations of duty, unknown before, 
 to the San 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 ap- 
 pear from Scripture, to belong to those divine persons in the Gospel 
 dispensation; or from the relations which we are there informed 
 they stand into 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 relations 
 which the Son and the Holy Spirit stand in to us. Hence arise the 
 obligations of duty which we are under to tliem. 'i'he truth of the 
 case, as one may speak, in each of these three respects beingadmit- 
 ted; that God is the j^overnor of the world, upon the evidence of rea- 
 son — that Christ is the mediator between God and n)an, and the Ho- 
 ly Ghost our guide and sanctiGcr, upon the evidence of revelation; 
 the truth of the case, I say, in each of these respects being admit- 
 ted, 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 re- 
 <juire to be more fully stated.* 
 
 Let it he reuiembered then that religion comes under the twofold 
 consideration of internal and external; 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 ex- 
 erted in such and such inward acts of the mind and heart, the es- 
 sence of natural religion may be said to consist in religious regards 
 to God the Father Mmighty; and the essence of revealed religion, 
 as distinguished from natural, to consist in religious regards to the 
 Son 3iud to the Holy Ghost. And the obligation we are under, of 
 
 • See, The Nature, Obligation, and Efficacy, of the Cliristiai) Sacraments, Secant} 
 Colliticr of revealed Rerigioii, as tlifyo quoted. 
 
Chap. I. of Christianity. 135 
 
 paying these religious regards to each of these divine persons re- 
 spectively, arises from the respective relations which they each 
 stand in to us. How these relations are made known, whether by rea- 
 son or revelation, makes no alteration in the case; because 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 
 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 persons 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 inten- 
 tion, which we owe to our fellow creatures, arises out of the com- 
 mon relations between us and them? But it will be asked, " what 
 are the inward religious regards, 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 revealed relations which 
 they stand in to us? I answer — the-religious regards of reverence, 
 honor, love, trust, gratitude, fear, hope. In what external 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 itself, to the Son and Holy Ghost, 
 is no farther matter of pure revealed command, than as the relations 
 they stand in to us are matter of pure revelation; for tlie 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 shews us the reason of these 
 obligations, as it shews 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 little consequence, provided natural 
 religion be kept to, plainly forget that Giiristianity, 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 
 command, immediately out of that his office and relation itself. 
 Those 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 otherwise have been known. And 
 these relations being real, (though before revelation we could be 
 under no obligations from them, yet upon their being revealed) there 
 is no reason to think, but that neglect of behaving suitably to them 
 will he attended with the same kind (if 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. 
 
126 The importance Part If, 
 
 If therefore Christ be indeed the mediator between God and man. 
 i. e. 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 may follow such disregard, even in the way of 
 natural consequence. For, as the natural consequences of vice in 
 this life are doubtless to be considered as judicial punishments in- 
 flicted by God, so likewise, for ought we know, the judicial punish- 
 ments of the future life may be, in a like way or a like sense, the nat- 
 ural consequence of vice;* of men's violating or disregarding the 
 relations, which God has placed tlxera in here, and made known to 
 them 
 
 Agais: if mankind are corrupted and depraved in tlieir moral 
 character, and so are unfit for that state which Christ is gone to pre- 
 pare for his disciples; and if the assistance of God's Spirit be neces- 
 sary to renew their nature, in the degree requisite to their being 
 qualified for that state; all which is implied in the express though 
 figurative declaration. Except a man he horn of the Spirit, he cannot 
 enter into the kingdom of God;] supposing this, is it possible any 
 serious person can think it a slight matter, whether or no he makes 
 use of the means expressly commanded by God for obtaining this 
 divine assistance? Especially since the whole analogy of n,ature 
 shews, that we are not to expect any benefits without making use of 
 the appointed means for obtaininig or enjoying them. Now reason 
 shews us nothing of the particular immediate means of obtaining 
 either temporal or spiritual benefits. This therefore we must learn, 
 either from experience or revelation. And experience the present 
 case does net admit of. 
 
 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 consequence, till it be posi- 
 tively 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 credibility, 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 observations, and to prevent their being 
 mistaken. 
 
 First, hence we may clearly see, where lies tiie distinction be- 
 tween what is positive and what is moral in religion. Moral precepts 
 are precepts the reason of which we see; positive precepts are pre- 
 cepts the reason of which we do not see.* Moral duties arise out of 
 the nature of the case itself, prior to external command. Positive 
 duties i\o not arise out of the nature of the case, but from external 
 
 * Chap. V. f John iii. 5. 
 
 i This is the distinction between moral antl positive precepts, considered respectively 
 rts such. But yet, since tlio intter have somewhat of a moral nature, we may see the 
 j-eason of them, considered in this view. Moral and positive ]>rccepts are in some rea- 
 {iccts alike, in other respects difTt rent. So Hir as they are alike, we discern the rea- 
 sons ofhoth; so far as they are differ. nit, we Uis'J^rn the realms of the former, hut im)» 
 ■>fthe latter 
 
Chap. I. of Christiaitilij. 127 
 
 command; nor would thej be duties at all, were it not for such com- 
 mand, received from him whose creatures and subjects we are. But 
 the manner in which the nature of the case or the fact of the relation 
 is made known, this doth not denominate 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 reason, the 
 relation we stand in to Christ by revelation only. On the other hand, 
 the dispensation of the Gospel admitted, gratitude as immediately 
 becomes due to Christ, from his being the voluntary minister of this 
 dispensation, as it is due to God the Father, from his being the foun- 
 tain 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 dis- 
 tinctness 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 reference to the Gospel dispensa- 
 tion, for it is in the name of God, as the Father of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ; or they are external institutions founded on revealed reli- 
 gion, as baptism in the name of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 Secondly, from the distinction between what is moral and what i-* 
 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 ohvious- 
 though we should not see the reason why such particular ones are 
 pitched upon rather than others. Whoever therefore, instead of 
 cavilling at words, will attend to the thing itself, may clearly see 
 that positive institutions in geoeral, 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 particular motle 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 exter- 
 nal command, the reasons of which we are not acquainted with; and 
 as the latter are moral, or arise out of the apparent 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 preaepts enjoined 
 by the same authority; that, in certain conjunctures, it is impossible 
 to obey both; that the former is moral, i. e. a precept of which we see 
 the reasons, and that they hold in the particular case before us; but 
 that the latter is positive, i. e. a precept of which we do not see the 
 reasons; — it is indisputable that our obligations are to obey the form- 
 er; 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, 
 othorwise than as it proceeds from a moral principle. This seems 
 to be the strict logical way of stating and determining this matter; 
 
i28 The importance Part If. 
 
 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 consid- 
 eration, 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 moral 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 ofthex\uthor 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 posi- 
 tive rites, by way of equivalent for obedience to moral precepts — 
 yet, without making any comparison at all between them, and con- 
 sequently without determining which is to have the preference, the 
 nature of the thing abundantly shews all notions of that kind to be 
 utterly subversive of true religion; as they are, moreover, contrary 
 to the who!* general tenor of Scripture, and likewise to the most 
 express particular declarations of it, that nothing can render us ac- 
 cepted of God without moral virtue. Secondly, upon the occasion i 
 of mentioning together positive and moral duties, the Scripture al- ,- 
 ways puts the stress of religion upon the latter, and never upon the 
 former; which, though no sort 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 f^ 
 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 prevalent folly— our Lord himself, 
 from whose command alone the obligation of positive institions 
 arises, has taken occasion to make the comparison between them aad 
 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 ha^ determined expressly, and in form, which shall have the pre- 
 ference when they interfere. And by delivering his authoritative 
 determination in a proverbial manner of expression, he has made it 
 general: / will have mercy, and not sacrifice.* The propriety of 
 tlie word proverbial is not the thing insisted upon, though I think Hie 
 manner of speaking is to be called so. But that the manner of 
 spetiking very remarkably renders the determination general, 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 argued, 
 that he preferred mercy likewise to the observance of other ritual 
 institutions, and in general, moral duties to positive ones. And thus 
 the determination would have been general, though its being so were 
 
 •Matth, -is 15, and xii 7. 
 
ChaP, I. of Christianity. 129 
 
 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, mercy 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 forementioned 
 occasions, with a declaration that the Pharisees 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 understand the 
 literal sense of the passage in the prophet,* and since understanding 
 the literal sense would not have prevented their condemning the 
 guiltless,^ it can hardly be doubted that the thing which our Lord 
 really intended in that declaration was, that the Pharisees had not 
 learnt 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 passage 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 impor- 
 tance than the other, to consider this other as of scarce any impor- 
 tance 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 what- 
 ever are absolute and indispensable; and that commands merely 
 positive, admitted to be from him, lay us under 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 shews and enforces upon us the 
 obligation of searching the Scriptures, in order to see what the 
 scheme of revelation really is, instead of determining beforehand 
 from reason what the scheme of it must be.:f Indeed if in revela- 
 tion there be found any passages, the seeming meaning of which is 
 contrary to natural religion, we may most certainly conclude such 
 seeming meaning not to be the real one. But it is not any degree 
 of a presumption against an interpretation of Scripture, that such 
 interpretation contains a doctrine which the light of nature cannot 
 discover,§ or a precept which the law of nature does not oblige to. 
 
 • Hos. vL t See Matth. xii. 7. ^ See Chap. iTr § Page 130, 191, 
 R 
 
ISO Of the supposed Fre'sumptioti Part II. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Of (he supposed Presumption against a Revelation, considered as 
 
 Miraculous. 
 
 HAVING shewn 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 revelation in gen- 
 eral, which shall be the subject of this chapter; and the objections 
 against the Christian in particular, which shall be the subject of some 
 following ones.* For it seems the most natural method to remove 
 the prejudices against Christianity, before we proceed to the consid- 
 eration of the positive evidence for it, and the objections against that 
 evidence.! 
 
 It is, I think, commonly supposed, that there is some peculiar pre- 
 sumption, from the analogy of nature, against the Christian scheme 
 of things, at least against miracles; so as that stronger evidence is 
 necessary to prove the truth and reality of them than would be suffi- 
 cient to convince us of other events, or matters of fact. Indeed the 
 consideration of this supposed presumption cannot but be thought 
 yery 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 needless the consideration of it be upon its own 
 account. 
 
 I. I find no appearance of a presumption, from the analogy of na- 
 ture, 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, i. e. render to every one ac- 
 cording to his works; and that good men are under the secret in- 
 fluence of his Spirit. Whether these things are or are not to be cal- 
 led miraculous, is perhaps only a question about words, or however, 
 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 exepience, or else 
 because it is unlike that course of nature which is. But analogy rai- 
 ses no presumption against the truth of tliis scheme, upon either of 
 these accounts. 
 
 First, 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 impro- 
 ved understanding, and acquainted with our whole system of natural 
 philosophy and natural religion — such an one could not but be sensi- 
 
 • Cha^. iii. iv. v. vi. j- Chap. vii. 
 
Chap. II. against Miracles. 151 
 
 ble 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 innumerable things, in the dispensa- 
 tions 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 discovered without revela- 
 tion. Whether the scheme of nature be, in the strictest sense, infi- 
 nite or not, it is evidently vast, even beyond all possible imagination; 
 and doubtless that part of it which is opened to our view is but as a 
 point, in comparison of the whole plan of Providence, reaching 
 throughout eternity 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 
 presumption against the truth and reality of them; because it is cer- 
 tain there are innumerable things, in the constitution and govern- 
 ment of the universe, which are thus beyond the natural reach of 
 our faculties. Secondly, analogy raises no presumption against any 
 of the things contained in this general doctrine of JScripture now 
 mentioned, upon account of their being unlike the known course of 
 nature. For there is no presumption at all from analogy, that the 
 whole course of things, or divine government, naturally unknown to 
 us, and every thing in it, is like to any thing in that which is known, 
 and therefore no peculiar presumption against any thing in the for- 
 mer, upon account of its being unlike to any thing in the latter. 
 And in the constitution and natural government of the world, as 
 well as in the moral government of it, we see things in a great degree 
 unlike one another, and therefore ought not to wonder at such un- 
 Jikeness between things visible and invisible. However, the scheme 
 of Christianity is by no means entirely unlike the scheme of nature, 
 as will appear in the following part of this treatise. 
 
 The notion of a miracle, considered as a proof of a divine mission, 
 has been stated with great exactness by divines, and is, I think, suffi- 
 ciently understood by every one. There are also invisible miracles, 
 the incarnation of Christ, for instance, which being secret cannot be 
 alleged as a proof of such a mission, but require themselves to be 
 proved by visible miracles. Revelation itself too is miraculous, and 
 miracles are the proof of it; and the supposed presumption against 
 these, shall presently be considered. All which I have been obser- 
 ving here is, that, whether we choose to call every thing in the dis- 
 pensations of Providence, not discoverable without revelation, nor 
 like the known course of things, miraculous, and whether the gene- 
 ral Christian dispensation now mentioned, is to be called so or not, 
 the foregoing observations seem certainly to shew, that there is no 
 presumption against it, from the analogy of nature. 
 
 11. There is no presumption from analogy against some opera- 
 tions, which we should now call mira.culous, particularly none against 
 a revelation at the beginning pf the world; nothing of such presump- 
 tion against it, as is supposedto be implied or expressed in the word 
 miraculous. For a miracle, in its very notion, is relative to a course 
 
 Page lOr, 108. 
 
152 Of the supposed Presumption Part IJ.. 
 
 of nature, and implies somewhat different from it, considered as be- 
 ing so. Now, either there was no course of nature at the time which 
 we are speaking of, or if there were, we are not acquainted what 
 the course of nature is, upon the first peopling of worlds. And 
 therefore the question, whether mankind had a revelation made to 
 them at that time, is to he considered, not as a 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 concern- 
 ing this question, and concerning common matters of fact of the 
 same antiquity; for instance, what part of the earth was- first peo- 
 pled. 
 
 Or thus: when mankind was first placed in this state, there was a 
 power exerted totally diflerent from the present course of nature. 
 rJow, Avhether this power, thus wholly different from the present 
 course of nature, for we cannot properly apply to it tlie word mirac- 
 ulous — whether this power stopped immediately after it had made 
 man, or went on, and exerted itself further in giving him a revela- 
 tion, is a question of the same kind, as whetlier 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 b« 
 considered as miraculous, or rather be called by that name, the case 
 will W)t be different: since it must be acknowledged, that such a 
 power was exerted. For supposing it acknowledged, that our Sav- 
 iour spent some years in a course of working miracles, there is no 
 more presumption, worth mentioning, against his having exerted this 
 miraculous power, in a certain degree greater, than in a certain de- 
 gree 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 peculiar presumption, from 
 the analogy of nature, against supposing a revelation when man was 
 first placed upon the eartli. 
 
 Add, that there does not appear the least intimation in history or 
 tradition, that religion was first reasoned out; but the whole of his- 
 tory 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, seems to suppose and imply that this 
 was the original of it amongst mankind. And these reflections to- 
 gether, without taking in the peculiar authority of Scripture, amount 
 to real and a very material degree of evidence, that there was a reve- 
 lation at the beginning of the world. Now this, as it is a confirma- 
 tion of natural religion, and therefore mentioned in the former part 
 of this treatise,* so likewise it has a tendency to remove any preju- 
 dices against a subsequent revelation. 
 
 III. But still it may be objected, that there is some peculiar pre- 
 sumption, from analogy, against miracles, particularly against revela- 
 tion, 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 a- 
 gainst reyelation, considered as somewhat miraculous, we must b^ 
 
 • Page 103. &c. 
 
Chap. II. against Miracles. 135 
 
 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 rev- 
 elation, from being informed whether such world had one or not, such 
 a proof, being drawn from one single instance only, must be infinite- 
 ly precarious. More particularly: first of all, there is a very strong 
 presumption against common speculative truths, and against the most 
 ordinary facts, before the proof of them, which yet is oveftome by 
 almost any proof. There is a presumption of millions to one against 
 the story of Ccesar, or of any other roan. 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 douht, 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 con- 
 cerning 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 addi- 
 tional to this amount to, though it be peculiar.^ It cannot be estima- 
 ted, and is as nothing. The only material question is, whether there 
 he any such presumption against miracles, as to render them in any 
 sort incredible. Secondly, if we leave out the consideration of re- 
 ligion, we are in such total darkness upon what causes, occasions, 
 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, oc- 
 casions, reasons, or circumstances, from whence miraculous interpo- 
 sitions may have arisen. And from this, joined with the foregoing 
 observation, it will follow, that there must be a presumption beyond 
 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 rea- 
 sons for miracles — to afford mankind instruction additional to that 
 of nature, and to attest the truth of it. And this gives a real cred- 
 ibility to the supposition, that it might be part of the original plan 
 of things, that there should be miraculous interposiiions. Then, 
 lastly, miracles must not be compared to commoa natural events, or 
 to events which, though uncommon, are similar to what we daily ex- 
 perience; but to the extraordinary phenomena of nature. And then 
 the comparison'Avill be between the presumption against miracles, 
 and the presumption against such uncommon appearances, suppose, 
 as comets, and against their being any such powers in nature as mag- 
 netism and electricity, 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, up- 
 on first hearing, would be the presumption against the last mention- 
 ed appearances and powers, to a person acquainted only with the 
 daily, monthly, and annual course of nature respecting this earthy 
 
i34 Of the supposed Presumptiony S^c, Part H. 
 
 and with those common powers of matter which we every day 
 see. 
 
 Upon all this I conclude, that there certainly is no such presump- 
 tion against miracles as to render them in any wise incredible; that 
 on the contrary, our being able to discern reasons for thera gives a 
 positive credibility to the history of them, in cases where those rea- 
 sons hold; and that it is by no means certain, that there is any par- 
 ticular presumption at all, from analogy, even in the lowest degree, 
 against ftiiracles, as distinguished from other extraordinary phenome- 
 na — though it is not worth while to perplex the reader with inquiries 
 into the abstract nature of evidence, in order to determine a ques= 
 tfon, which without such inquiries we see* is of no importance* 
 
 • Page 133. 
 
CftAP. III. Tlie Credibility of Revelation, S^c. 135 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Of our Incapacity of judging what were to he expected in a Revela- 
 tion; and the Credibility^ from Analogy, that it must contain 
 Things appearing liable to Objections, 
 
 BESIDES 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 deficien- 
 cies of revelation; from things in it appearing to men foolishness^* 
 from its containing matters of offence, which have led, and it must 
 have been foreseen would lead, into strange enthusiasm and super* 
 8tition, and be made to serve the purposes of tyranny and wicked- 
 ness; 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. f It would be tedious, indeed impossible, 
 to enumerate the several particulars comprehended under the objec- 
 tions 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 criticks, for polite and correct writings. And 
 the scorn is inexpressible, with which some of the prophetic 
 parts of Scripture are treated; partly through the rashness of inter- 
 preters, but very much also on account of the hieroglyphical and fig- 
 urative language in which they are left us. Some of the principal 
 things of this sort shall be particularly considered in the following 
 chapters. But my design at present is to observe in general, with 
 respect to this whole way of arguing, that, upon supposition of a rev- 
 elation, it is highly credible beforehand, we should be incompetent 
 Judges of it, to a great degree; and that it would contain many things 
 appearing to us liable to great objections, in case we judge of it oth- 
 erwise than by the analogy of nature. And therefore though objec- 
 tions against the evidence of Christianity are most seriously to be 
 considered, yet objections against Christianity itself are, in a great 
 measure, frivolous; almost all objections against it, excepting those 
 which are alleged against the particular proofs of its coming from 
 God. I express myself with caution, lest I should be mistaken to 
 vilify reason, which is indeed the only faculty we have wherewith to 
 judge concerning any thing, even revelation itself; or be misunder- 
 stood to assert, that a supposed revelation cannot be proved false 
 from internal characters. For, it may Qontain clear immoralities or 
 
 * I Car. i. 2l» | See Chap. «» 
 
13^ Hie Credibility of Revelation Part If. 
 
 contradictions, and either of these would prove it false. Nor will I 
 take upon me to affirm, that nothing else can possibly render any sup- 
 posed revelation incredible. Yet still the observation above is, I 
 think, true beyond doubt, that objections against Christianity, as dis- 
 tinguished from objections against its evidence, are frivolous. To 
 make out this, is the general design of the present chapter. And 
 with regard to the whole of it, I 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 sup- 
 posed, which may be drawn from them. For, after all, that which is 
 true must be admitted, thongh it should shew us the shortness of our 
 faculties, and that we are in no wise judges of many things, of which 
 we are apt to think ourselves very conipetent ones. Nor will this 
 be any objection with reasonable men, at least upon second thought 
 it will not be any objection with such, against the justness of the fol- 
 lowing observations. 
 
 As God governs the world, and instructs his creatures, according 
 to certain laws or rules, in the known course of nature, known by rea- 
 son together with experience— so the Scripture informs iis of a 
 scheme of divine Providence additional to this. It relates, that God 
 has, by revelation, instructed men in things concerning his govern- 
 ment which they could not otherwise have known, and reminded 
 them of things which they might otherwise know, and attested the 
 truth of the whole by miracles. Now if the natural and the revealed 
 dispensation of things are both from God, if they coincide with each 
 other, and together make up one scheme of Providence — our being 
 incompetent judges of one, must render it credible that we may be 
 incompetent judges also of the other. Since, upon experience, the 
 acknowledged constitution and course of nature is found to be greatly 
 different from what, before experience, would have been expected, 
 and such as men fancy there lie great objections against — this ren- 
 ders it beforehand highly credible, that they may find the revealed 
 dispensation likewise, if they judge of it as they do of the constitu- 
 tion of nature, very different from expectations formed beforehand, 
 and liable, in appearance, to great objections; objections against the 
 scheme itself, and against the degrees and manners of the miraculous 
 interpositions by which it was attested and carried on. Thus, sup- 
 pose a prince to govern his dominions in the wisest manner possible, 
 by common known laws, and that upon some exigencies he should 
 suspend these laws, and govern, in several instances, in a different 
 manner; if one of his subjects were not a competent judge before- 
 hand, by what common rules the government should or would be car- 
 ried on, it could not be expected that the same person would be a 
 competent judge, in what exigencies, or in what manner, or to what 
 degree, those laws commonly observed would be suspended or devi- 
 ated from. If he were not a judge of the wisdom of the ordinary ad- 
 ministration, there is no reason to think he would be a judge of the 
 wisdom of the extraordinary. If he thought he had objections against 
 the former, doubtless it is highly supposable he might think also that 
 he had objections against the latter. 
 
 And thus as we fall into infinite follies and mistakes, whenever we 
 pretend, otherwise than from experience and analogy, to judge of the 
 
Chap. III. liable to Objections. 1S7 
 
 constitution and course of nature — it is evidently supposable before- 
 hand that we should fall into as great in pretending to judge, in the 
 like manner concerning revelation. Nor is there any more ground 
 to expect that this latter should appear to us cleaj- of objections, than 
 that the former should. 
 
 These observations, relating to the whole of Christianity, are ap- 
 plicable 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 naturally instruct us- 
 so upon supposition of his affording us light and instruction by reve- 
 lation, additional to what he has afforded us by reason and experi- 
 ence, we are in no sort judges by what methods, and in what propor- 
 tion, it were to be expected that this supernatural light and instruc- 
 tion 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 experience; nor how far he 
 would enable and effectually dispose them to communicate it, what- 
 ever 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 knowledge, or 
 even the faculty itself by which we are capable of attaining it, rea- 
 son, would be given us at once, or gradually. In like manner we 
 are wholly ignorant, what degree of new knowledge it were to be ex- 
 pected God would give njankind by revelation, upon supposition of 
 his affording one; or how far, or in what way, he would interpose 
 miraculously to qualify them, to whom hq should originally make the 
 revelation, for communicating the knowledge given by it, and to 
 secure their doing it to the age in which they should live, and to se- 
 cure 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 degree of evidence of its truth, would have the same; 
 or whether ihe scheme would be revealed at once, or unfolded grad- 
 ually. 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 writing, or left to be handed down, and consequently corrupted 
 by verbal tradition, and at length sunk under it, if mankind so pleas- 
 ed, and during such time as they are permitted, in the degree they 
 evidently are, to act as they will. 
 
 But it may be said, " that a revelation in some of the above men- 
 tioned circumstances, one, for instance, which was not committed to 
 writing, and thus secured 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 othel-s, or the same in dif- 
 ferent degrees. And wiiich of these were the purposes of God, and 
 best fell in with his general government, we could not at all have 
 determined beforehand. 
 
 * SVe Chap. vi. 
 
lo. The Credibility of lievelalion Part ITT 
 
 Now sim e it h^s been shewn, that we have no principles of reason, 
 upon which to judge beforehand how it were to be expected revelation 
 should have been left, or what was most suitable to the divine plan 
 of govetiinient in an} of the forementioned respects — itinust be quite 
 frivolous 10 object afterwards as to any of them, against its being left _ 
 in one way rather tlian another; for this would be to object against 
 things, upon account of their being difterent from expectations, which 
 have been shewn 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, ami 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 various readings, nor 
 early disputes about the authors of particular parts, nor any other 
 things of the like kind, though they had been much more considerable 
 in degree than they are, could overthrow the authority of the Scrip- 
 ture; unless the prophets, apostles, or our Lord, had promised tliat 
 the book containing the divine revelation should be secure from those 
 things. Nor indeed can any objections overthrow 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 shew that there is no 
 proof of miracles wrought originally in attestation of it, no appear- 
 ance of any thing miraculous in its obtaining in the world, nor any 
 ot prophecy, that is, of events foretold which human sagacity could 
 not foresee, if it can be shewn, that the proof alleged for all these 
 is absolutely none at all, then is revelation overturned. But weie it 
 allowed that the proof of any one or all of them is lower than is allow- 
 ed, yet, whilst any proof of them remains, revelation will stand upon 
 much the same foot it does at present, as to all the purposes of life 
 and practice, and ought to have the like influence upon our behav- 
 iour. 
 
 From the foregoing«bservations too it will follow, and those who 
 will thoroughly examine into revelation will find it worth remarking, 
 that there are several ways of arguing, which, though just with re- 
 gard to oth^r writings, are not applicable to Scripture; 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 repre- 
 sented undei' a more apt figure or hieroglyphick; yet we may justly 
 argue thus with respect to common books. And the reason of thjs 
 difterence 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 un- 
 der how apt an image figured. The only question is, what appear- 
 ance there is that this is the sense, and scarce at all how much more 
 determinately or accurately it might have been expressed or figured. 
 
 " But is it not self-evident, that internal improbabilities of all kinds 
 weaken external probable proof.'"' Doubtless. But to what practical 
 purpose caa this be alleged here, when it has been proved before, ; 
 
 •Page 142. f Page 132. 
 
Chat. III. liable to Objections. 139 
 
 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^^hat we scarce know what are improbabilities as 
 to the matter we are here considering — as it 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 instruc- 
 tion 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 farther, and observe, that if men will 
 be regardless of these things, and pretend to judge of the Scripture 
 by preconceived expectations, the analogy of nature shews before- 
 hand, not only that it is highly credible they may, but also probable 
 that they will, imagine they have strong objections against it, how- 
 ever 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 Cv-;irse 
 of nature. Were the instruction which God affords to brute crea- 
 tures by instincts and mere propensions, and to mankind by these 
 together with reason, matter of probabable proof, and not of certain 
 ohservation — it would be rejected as incredible in «»any instances of 
 it, only upon account of the means by which this instruction is given, 
 the seeming disproportions, the limitations, necessary conditions and 
 circnrastances of it. For instance — would it not have been thought 
 highly improbable, that men should have been so 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 capricious and irregiilar a way of information, would it be said, 
 is that ofinvention, by means of which nature 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 communicate our thoughts to each 
 other, are innumerable. Language is in its very nature inadequate, 
 ambiguous, liable to infinite abuse even from negligence, and so lia- 
 ble 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 oe thought im- 
 possible; 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 circumstances, in manners, degrees and respects, whicli we 
 should be apt to fancy we had great objections against the credibility 
 of. Nor are the objections against the Scripture, nor against Chris- 
 tianity in general, at all more or greater than the analogy of nature 
 would beforehand — not perhaps give ground to expect, fur this aaal- 
 
140 The Credibility of Revelation Part II. 
 
 ogy may not be sufficient in some case to ground an expectation upon, 
 but no more nor greater than analogy would shew it, beforehand, to 
 be supposable and credible that there miglit seem to lie against rere- 
 lation. 
 
 By applying these general observations to a particular objection, 
 it will be more distinctly seen how they are applicable to others of 
 the like kind, and indeed to almost all objections against Christian- 
 ity, as distinguished from objections against its evidence. It appeajs 
 from Scripture, that as it was not unusual in the apostolick age for 
 persons, upon their conversion 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 ob- 
 jection against their being really miraculous. Now tlie foregoing 
 observations quite remove this objection, how considerable soever it 
 may appear at first sight. For consider a person endued 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 tlie effect of habit, of study and use, as it 
 ordinarily is, or the same power over it as he had over any other nat- 
 ural endowment. Consequetitly he would use it in the same man- 
 tier he did any other, either regularly and upon proper occasions 
 only, or irregularly and upon improper ones, according to his sense 
 of decency, and his character of prudence. Where then is the ob- 
 jection? Why, 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 siiould have been 
 chosen to be invested with it: or that these should, at the same time, 
 have been endued M'ith prudence; or that they should have been con- 
 tinually restrained and directed in the exercise of it; i. e. that God 
 should have miraculously interposed, if at all, in a different manner 
 or higher degree. But from the observations made above, it is unde- 
 7iiably evident that we are not judges in what degrees and manners 
 it were to have been expected he should miraculously interpose, 
 upon supposition of his doing it in some degree and tnanner. Nor, 
 in the natural course of Providence, are superior gifts of memwy, 
 eloquence, knowledge, and other talents of great iniluence, conferred 
 only on persons of prudence and decency, or such as are disposed to 
 make the properest use of them. Nor is the instruction and admo- 
 nition 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 resemblance between 
 the light of nature and of rovelation in several other respects. 
 Practical Christianity, or that faith an«l behaviour which renders a 
 man a Christian, is a plain and obvious thing, like the common rules 
 of conduct with respect to our ordinary temporal affairs. The more 
 distinct and particalar knowledge of those things, the study of which 
 liie Apostle calls going on unto peTfection,* and of the prophetic 
 parts of revelatiun, like many parts of natural and even civil knowl- 
 
 'Ucb. vi. 1. 
 
Chap. III. liable to Objections, 141 
 
 edge, may require very exact thought, and careful consideration. 
 The hindrances too, of natural and of supernatural light and knowl- 
 edge, have been of the same kind. And as, it is owned, the whole 
 scheme of Scripture is not yet understood, so, if it ever conies to be 
 understood, before the restitution of all things,* and without mirac- 
 ulous interpositions, it must be in the same way as natural knowl- 
 edge is come at, by the continuance 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 improvements are made, by thoughtful men's tra- 
 cing on obscure hints, as it were, dropped us by nature accidentally, 
 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 inten- 
 ded, that events, as they come to pass, should open and ascertain 
 the meaning of several parts of Scripture. 
 
 It may be objected, that this analogy fails in a material respect; 
 for that natural knowledge is of little or no consequence. iJut I 
 have been speaking of the general instruction which nature does or 
 does not afford us. And besides, some parts of natural knowledge, 
 in the more common restrained sense of the words, are of the gieat- 
 est 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 na- 
 ture, which shews that God does not dispense his gifts according to 
 our notions of the advantage and consequence they would be of to us. 
 And this in general, with his method of dispensing knowledge in par- 
 ticular, would together make out an analogy full to the point before 
 us. 
 
 But it may be objected still fartlier and more generally, " The 
 Scripture represents the world as in a state of ruin, and Christiani- 
 ty as an expedient to recover it, to help in these respects where na- 
 ture fails; in particular, to supply the deficiencies of natural light. 
 Is it credible then, that so many ages should have been let pass, be- 
 fore 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 conceivable, that this supply 
 should be so very deficient, should have the like obscurity and doubt- 
 fulness, be liable to the like perversions, in short lie open, to all the 
 like objections, as the light of nature itself.'"'t Without determin- 
 ing how far this in fact is so, I answer — -it is by no means incred- 
 ible that it might be so, if the light of nature and of revelation 
 be from the same hand. Men are naturally liable to diseases, for 
 which God, in his good providence, has provided natural reniedies ^ 
 But remedies existing in nature have been unknown to mankind for 
 jnany ages, are known to but few now, probably many valuable ones 
 
 * Acts ill, 21. t See Chap. vi. t Chap. v. 
 
142 The Credibility of Revelation Pah r If. 
 
 arc not known yet. Great has been and is the obscurity and diffi- 
 culty in the nature and application of them. Circumstances seem 
 often to make them ver\' improper, where they are absolutely neces- 
 sary. It is after long labor and study, and many unsuccessful en- 
 deavors, that they are brought to be as useful as they are; after high 
 contempt and absolute rejection of the m(»st useful we have: and af- 
 ter disputes and doubts which hat*e 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 tliey are, it is often very slowly; and the appli- 
 cation of them, and the necessary regimen accompanying it, is, not 
 uncommonly, so disagreeable, that some will not submit to them, 
 and satify themselves with the excuse, that if they would, it is not 
 certain whether it would be successful. And many persons who la- 
 bor under diseases for which there are known natural remedies, 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 nei- 
 ther certain, perfect, nor universal. And indeed the same princi- 
 ples of arguing which would lead us to conclude that they must be 
 so, would lead us likewise to conclude that there could be no occa- 
 sion for them, i. e. that there could be no diseases at all. And there- 
 fore, our experience that there are diseases, shews that it is credible 
 beforehand, upon supposition 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 shews, that the princi- 
 ples upon vvhich 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 oflered to us as being of divine 
 revelatiwn. 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 province of 
 reason to judge of the morality of the Scripture; i. e. not whether it 
 contains things different 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 Scrip- 
 ture, excepting such objections as are formed upon suppositions, 
 which would equally conclude that the constitution of nature is con- 
 tradictory to wisdom, justice, or goodness, vvhich most certainly it is 
 not. Indeed there are some particular precepts in Scripture, given 
 to particular persons, recjuiring actions which would be immoral and 
 vicious vvere it not for such precepts But it is easy to see (hat alt 
 tlicse are of such a kind, as that the precept changes the whole na- 
 ture of the case and of the action, and both constitutes and shews 
 that not to be unjust or immoral, which, prior to the precept, must 
 have appeared at*d really have been so; whith may well be, since 
 none of these precepts are contrary to immutable morality. If it 
 were ccfinmanded to cultivate the principles, and act from the spirit 
 of treachery, ingratitude, cruelty, the command would not alter the 
 
 Me of tiie case or of the action in any of these instances. But 
 
 iia 
 
Chap. III. liable to Objections. 14.5 
 
 it is quite otherwise in precepts, which requre only the doing an 
 external action; for instance, taking away the property or life of 
 any. For men have no right to either life or property, but what ari- 
 ses solely from the grant of God; when this grant is revoked, they 
 cease to have any right at all in either; and when this revocation is 
 made known, as surely it is possible it may be, it must cease to he 
 unjust to deprive them of either. And though a course of external 
 acts, which without command would be immoral, must make an im- 
 moral habit, yet a few detached commands have no such natural 
 tendency. ' I thought proper to say thus much of the few Scripture 
 precepts, which require, not vicious actions, but actions which would 
 nave been vicious had it not been for such precepts; because they 
 are sometimes weakly urged as immoral, and great weight is laid up- 
 on objections drawn from them. But to me there seems no difficul- 
 ty at all in these precepts, but what arises from their being offences, 
 i. e. from their being liable to be perverted, as indeed they are, by 
 wicked designing men, to serve the most horrid purposes; and, per- 
 haps, to mislead the weak and enthusiastic. And objections frcru 
 this head are not objections against revelation, but against the whole 
 notion of religion as a trial, and against the general constitution 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 observation is, that the ques- 
 tion upon which the truth of Christianity depends is scarce at ail 
 what objections 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 objections against that proof; because it has been 
 shewn, 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 v/ay of arguing and 
 objecting, which, when applied to the general constitution of nature, 
 experience shews not to be conclusive; and such, I think, is the 
 whole way of objecting treated of throughout this chapter. It is re- 
 solvable into principles, and goes upon suppositions which mislead as 
 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 evidently from hence, that the chief 
 things thus objected against are justified, as shall be farther shown, f 
 by distinct, particular and full analogies, in the constitution and 
 course of nature 
 
 But it is to be remembered, that, as frivolous as objections of the 
 foregoing sort against revelation are, yet, when a supposed revela- 
 tion is more consistent with itself, and has a more general and uni- 
 form tendency to promote virtue, than, all circumstances considered, 
 could have been expected from enthusiasm and political views — this 
 is a presumptive proof of its not proceeding from them, and so of its 
 truth; because we are competent judges what might have been ex- 
 pected from enthusiasm and political views. 
 
 * Chap, vi \ Chap. iv. latter part And v. vi. 
 
144 Christianity a Scheme, Part II. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Of Christianity, considered as a Scheme or Constitution^ imperfect- 
 ly comprehended. 
 
 IT hath been shewn* 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 expec- 
 ted, and such as appear open to great objections, and that this obser- 
 vation, 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 ob- 
 viating them, because it doth not shew at all that the things objec- 
 ted against can be wise, just and good, much less that it is credible 
 they are so. It will therefore be proper to shew this distinctly, by 
 applying to these objections against the wisdom, justice and good- 
 ness of Christianity, the answer abovef given to the like objections 
 against the constitution of nature, before we consider the particular 
 analogies in the latter to the particular things objected against in the 
 former. Now that which affords a suflScient answer to objections 
 against the wisdom, justice and goodness of the constitution of na- 
 ture, is its being a constitution, a system or scheme imperfectly com- 
 prehended; a scheme in which means are made use of to accomplish 
 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 cred- 
 ible, that those things which are objected against may be consistent 
 with wisdom, justice and goodness, nay may be instances of them; 
 and even that the constitution and government of nature may be 
 perfect in the highest possible degree. If Christianity then be a 
 scheme, and of the like kind, it is evident tlie like objections against 
 it must admit of the like answer And, 
 
 I. 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 nei- 
 ther fraud and violence, but truth and right, shall finally prevail. 
 Christianity is 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 recov- 
 ery, by a divine person, the Messiah, who is to gather together in one> 
 
 " In tbe loregoing Chapter. 
 7 Part I. Chap, vii, to vthkh this all al»ng refers. 
 
Chap. IV. imperfectly comprehended. 145 
 
 the children of God that are scattered abroad,* and establish an ev- 
 erlasting kingdom, wherein dwelleth righteousness.f And in order 
 to it, after various manifestations 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 the prophets, testified 
 beforehand his sufferings, and the gl"ry that should follow; unto 
 whom it urns revealed, that not unto themselves, but unto us they did 
 minister the things which are noiv reported unto us by them that have 
 preached the Gospel; ivhich things the angels desire to look into\) — 
 after various dispensations, looking forward and preparatory to this 
 final salvation, in the fulness of time, when infinite wisdom thought 
 fit, He, being in the form of God — made himself of no reputation^ 
 and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the like- 
 ness of men; and being found in fashion as a man, he humbled him- 
 self, and became obedient to death, even the death of the cross; where- 
 fore God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name whick 
 is above every name; that at the name of Jesus every knee should 
 bow, of things in heaven, and things in the earth, and things under 
 the earth; and that every tongue should confess, that Jesus Christ is 
 Lord, to the glory of God the Father.^ Parts likewise of this econ- 
 omy, are the miraculous mission of the Holy Ghost, and his ordina- 
 ry assistance given to good men; the invisible government which 
 Christ at present exercises over his church; that which he himself 
 refers to in these words,^ In my Father's house are many mansions — 
 J go to prepare a place for you; and his future return to judge the 
 tvorld in righteousness, and completely re-establish the kingdom of 
 God. For the Father judgeth no man; hit hath committed all judg- 
 ment unto the Son, that all men should honor the Son. even as they 
 honor the Father-W Jill power is given unto him in heaven and in 
 earth.** And he must reign till he hath put all enemies under his feet. 
 Then cometh the end, wheji he shall have delivered up the kingdom to 
 God, even the Father; when he shall have put 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.^i Now little, surely, 
 need be said to shew (hat this system or scheme of things is but im- 
 perfectly comprehended by us. The Scripture expressly 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 shews us our ignorance in it; as every thing in na- 
 ture shews 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 unreveale'i, 
 as will convince him, that, to all the purposes of judging and objec- 
 ting, 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 perfection of the other. §§ 
 
 II. It is obvious too, that in the Christian dispensation, as much 
 as in the natural scheme of things, means are made use of to accom- 
 
 •Joh xi. 52. -j-aPet. iii. 13 i: 1 Pet i. 11, 12. §Phil ii. t Joh. xvi. 3. 
 i Job. V. 22, S."? •* Matth, xsviii. 18, t\ 1 Cor. sy, it 1 Tim iii. IG. ^§ P. 107, ?cc 
 
146 Christianity a Schemef Part II. 
 
 plish ends. And the observation of this furnishes us with the same 
 answer to objections against the perfection of Christianity, as to ob- 
 jections of the like kind against the constitution of nature. It 
 shews the credibility, that the things objected against, how foolish* 
 soever they appear to men, may be the very best means of accom- 
 plishing the very best ends; and their appearing foolishiiess is no 
 presumption against this, in a scheme so greatly beyond our compre- 
 hension f 
 
 III. The credibility that the Christian dispensation may have 
 been, all along, carried on by general laws, J no less than the course 
 of nature, may require to be more distinctly made out. Consider 
 then upon what ground it is we say, that the whole common course 
 ;yf nature is carried on according to general foreordained laws. We 
 know indeed several of the general laws of matter, and a great part 
 of the natural behaviour of living agents is reducible to general 
 laws. But we know in a manner nothing by what laws, storms and 
 tempests, earthquakes, famine, pestilence, become instruments of 
 destruction to mankind. And the laws by which persons born into 
 the world at such a time and place are of such capacities, geniuses, 
 tempers; the laws by which thoughts come into our mjnd in a multi- 
 tude of cases, and by which innumerable things happen, of the great- 
 est influence upon the affairs and state of the world ; these laws are 
 so wholly unknown to us, that we call the events which come to pass 
 by them accidental, though all reasonable men know certainly that 
 there cannot, in reality, be any such thing as chance, and conclude 
 that the things which have this appearance are the 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 be- 
 ing reduced into them — only from our seeing that part is so. It 18 
 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 render it supposable and 
 credible, which is sufficient for answering objections, that God's mi- 
 raculous interpositions may have been, all along in like manner, by 
 general laws of \;isdom. 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 giv- 
 en them by miraculous interpositions— that these interpositions 
 should be exactly in such degrees and respects only — all this may 
 have been by general laws. These laws are unknown 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 understanding — with innumer- 
 able 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 
 
 * 1 Cor. i. t^age 110. ^ Page III. 
 
Chap. 1V~. imperfectly comprehended. 14Z« 
 
 much reducible to general oaes as gravitation. Now, if the reveal- 
 ed dispensations of Providence, and miraculous interpositions, be 
 by general laws, as well as God's ordinary government in the course 
 of nature, made known by reason and experience — there is no more 
 reason to expect that every exigence, as it arises, should be provi- 
 ded for by these general laws or miraculous interpositions, than that 
 every exigence in nature should by the general laws of nature; yet 
 there might be wise and good reasons that miraculous interpositions 
 should be by general laws, and that these laws should not be broken 
 in upon, or deviated from, by other miracles. 
 
 Upon the whole then, the appearance of deficiences and irregular- 
 ities in nature is owing to its being a scheme but in part made known, 
 and of such a certain particular kind in other respects. Now we 
 see no more reason why the frame and course of nature should be 
 such a scheme, than why Christianity should. And that the former 
 is such a scheme, renders it credible that the latter, upon supposition 
 of its truth, may be so too. And as it is manifest that Christianity 
 is a scheme revealed but in part, and a scheme in which means are 
 made use of to accomplish ends, like to that of nature— so the cred- 
 ibility that it may have been all along carried on by general laws, no 
 less than the course of nature, has been distinctly proved. And 
 from all this it is beforehand credible that there might, I think proba- 
 ble that there would, be the like appearance of deficiencies and ir- 
 regularities in Christianity as in nature; i. e. that Christianity would 
 be liable to the like objections as the frame of nature. And these 
 objections are answered by these observations concerning Christian- 
 ity, as the like objections against the frame of nature are answered 
 by the like observations concerning the frame of nature. 
 
 THE objections against Christianity, considered as a matter of 
 fact,* having in general been obviated in the preceding chapter^ and 
 the same, considered as made against the wisdom and goodness of 
 it, having been obviated in this, the next thing, according to the 
 method proposed, is to shew that the principal objections, in particu- 
 lar, against Christianity maybe answered by particular and full anal^ 
 ogies 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 objected 
 against this scheme of the Gospel is, " that it seems to suppose God 
 was reduced to the necessity 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 understanding or power, not 
 being able to come at their ends directly, are forced to go rounda- 
 bout ways, and make use of many perplexed contrivances to arrive at 
 them." Now every thing which we see shews the folly of this, con- 
 sidered as an objection against the truth of Christianity. For, ac- 
 
 * Page 107. 
 
148 Christianity a Scheme, Part II. 
 
 cording to our manner of conception, God makes use of variety of 
 means, what we often think tedious ones, in the natural course of 
 providence, for the accomplishment of all his ends. Indeed it is 
 certain there is somewhat in this matter quite beyond our compre- 
 hension; but the mystery is as great in nature as in Christianity. 
 We know what we ourselves aim at, as linal ends, and what courses 
 we take, merely as means conducing to those ends. But we are 
 greatly ignorant how far things are considered by the Author of na- 
 ture, 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 man- 
 ner of conception, concerning (his matter, somewhat contradictory 
 arising from our extremely imperfect view of thin;;s, it is impossible 
 to say. However, thus much is manifest, 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 bodies, and those of animals, though 
 possibly formed at once, yet grow up by degrees to a mature state. 
 And thus rational agents, who animate these latter bodies, are nat- 
 urally directed to form each his own manners and character, by the 
 gradual gaining of knowledge and experience, and by a long course 
 of action. Our existence is not only successive, as it must be of ne- 
 cessity, but one state of our life and 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 beforehand laid out, which, from the 
 mature of it, requires 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 natural providence, God operates in the 
 very same manner as in the dispensation of Christianity, making 
 v'vne thing subservient to another, this to somewhat farther, and so 
 on, through a progressive series of means, which extend, both back- 
 ward and forward, beyond our utmost view. Of this manner of op- 
 eration, every thing we see in the course of nature is as much an in 
 stance, as any part of the Christian dispensation. 
 
Chap. V. Appointment of a Mediator, S^c. 149 
 
 CHAP. Y. 
 
 Of the particular System of Christianity; the Appointment of a 
 Mediator, and the Redemption of the World by him. 
 
 THERE is not, I think, any thing relating to Christianity wliich 
 has been more objected against than the mediation of Christ, in some 
 or other of its parts. Yet, upon thorough consideration, there seems 
 nothing less justly liable to it. For, 
 
 I. The whole analogy of nature removes all imagined presumption 
 against the general notion of a Mediator between God and man* 
 For we find all living creatures are brought into the world, and their 
 life in infancy is preserved, by the instrumentality of others; and 
 every satisfaction of it, sori^e way or other, is bestowed by the like 
 means. So that the visible government which God exercises over 
 the world is by the instrumentality and mediation of others. And 
 how far his invisible government be or be not so, it is impossible to 
 determine at all by reason. And the supposition that part of it is 
 so, appears, to say the least, altogether as credible as the contrary. 
 There is then no sort of objection, from the light of nature, against 
 the general notion of a mediator between God and man, considered 
 as a doctrine of Christianity, or as an appointment in this dispensa- 
 tion; since we find by experience that God does appoint mediators 
 to be the instruments of good and evil to us, the instruments of his 
 justice and his mercy. And the objection here referred to i^ urged, 
 not against mediation in that high, eminent and peculiar sgnse 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 distinctly taken notice 
 of. Now the divine moral government which religion teaches us, 
 implies that the consequence of vice shall be misery, in some future 
 state, by the righteous judgmennt of God. That such consequent 
 punishment shall take effect by his appointment, is necessarily im- 
 plied. But, as it is not in any sort to be supposed, that we are made 
 acquainted with all the ends or reasons for which it is fit future pun- 
 ishments 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 should follow, by what immediate 
 occasions, or by the instrumentality of what means, there is no ab- 
 surdity in supposing it may follow in a way analogous to that, ii^ 
 
 • 1 Tim. ii. 5. 
 
350 'lite Jippointnient of Part II. 
 
 which many miseries follow such and such courses of action at pres- 
 ent; poverty, sickness, intamy, untimely death by diseases, death 
 from the hands of civil justice. There is no absurdity in supposing 
 luture 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 which he places us; or in a like manner as a person rashly trifling 
 upon a precipice, in the way of natural consequence, falls down; in 
 the way of natural consequence, breaks his limbs, suppose; in the 
 way of natural consequence of tliis, without help, perishes. 
 
 Some good men may perhaps be oftended, 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 na- 
 ture. But they should remember, that when things come to pass ac- 
 cording to the course of nature, this does not hinder them from being 
 his doing, who is the God of nature; and that the Scripture ascribes 
 those punishments to divine justice which are known to be natural, 
 and which must be called so, when distinguished from such as are 
 miraculous. But after all, this supposition, or rather this way of 
 speaking, is here made use of only by way of illustration of the sub- 
 ject before us. For since it must be admitted, that the future pun- 
 ishment of wickedness is not a matter of arbitrary appointment, 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 vice and folly are inflicted, 
 «>r in any other way. And though there were a difference, it is allow- 
 able, in the present case, to make this supposition, plainly not an 
 incredible one, that future punishment may follow wickedness in the 
 way of natural consequence, or according to some general laws of 
 government already established in the universe. 
 
 111. Upon this supposition, or even without it, we may observe 
 somewhat much to tiie present purpose in the constitution of nature 
 or appointments of Providence; the provision which is made that ait 
 the bad natural consequences of men's actions should not always 
 actually follow; or that such bad consequences as, according to the 
 settled course of things, would inevitably have followed if not pre- 
 vented, should in certain degrees be prevented. We are apt pre- 
 sumptuously to imagine, that the world might have been so consti- 
 tuted, 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 rases perfect remedies for 
 it, after S(»me pains and difficulties; reliefs and remedies even for 
 that evil, which is the fruit of our own misconduct; and which, in the 
 course of nature, would have continued and ended in our destruc- 
 tion, but for such remedies. And this is an instance both of severity 
 and indulgence, in the constitution of nature. Thus all the bad con- 
 sequences now mentioned, of a man's 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's coming 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 
 
t/HAP. V, a Mediator and Redeemer. - 151 
 
 preventing the bad consequences of their follies; and more may be 
 done by themselves, together with the assistance of others their fel- 
 low creatures; which assistance nature requires and prompts us to. 
 This is the general constitution of the world. Now suppose it had 
 been so constituted, that after such actions were done as were fore- 
 seen naturally to draw after them misery to the doer, it should have 
 been no more in human power to have prevented that naturally con- 
 sequent 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 nat- 
 ural effects of our follies — this may be called mercy or compassion in 
 the original constitution of the world; compassion as distinguished 
 from goodnes in general. And, the whole known constitution and 
 course of things aftbrding us instances of such compassion, it vvould 
 be according to the analogy of nature to hope, that, however ruinous 
 the natural consequences of vice might be, from the general laws of 
 God's government over the universe — yet provision might be made, 
 possibly might have been originally made, for preventing those ruin- 
 ous consequences from inevitably following; at least from followin»- 
 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 so 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 unad- 
 visedly concerning it. But let us observe what we experience to be, 
 and what from the very constitution of nature cannot but be, the con- 
 sequences of irregular and disorderly behaviour; even of such rash- 
 ness, wilfulness, neglects, as we scarce call vicious. Now it is nat- 
 ural to apprehend, that the bad consequences of irregularity will be 
 greater in proportion as the irregularity is so. And there is no com- 
 parison 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 confusion and misery into 
 the kingdom of God, which mankind have in fact introduced — io 
 blaspheme the sovereign Lord of all — to contemn his authority — to 
 be injurious to the degree they are, to their fellow creatures, the crea- 
 tures of God. Add that the effects 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, ac- 
 cording to the general 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 
 panlon, or for having those penal consequences prevented. V et, 
 
 IV. There seems no probability that any thing we could do would 
 
15i The Appointment of Paut If. 
 
 alone and of itself prevent them; prevent their following or beiugj 
 inflicted. But one would think, at least, it were impossible that the 
 contrary should be thought certain. For we are not acquainted with 
 the whole of the case. We are not informed of all the reasons which 
 render it fit that future punishments should be inflicted, and there- 
 fore cannot know whether anything we could do would make such 
 an alteration as to render it fit that they should be remitted. We 
 do not know what the whole natural or appointed consequences 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 which 
 would be sufficient to prevent them. Our ignorance being thus man- 
 ifest, let us recollect the analogy of nature or Providence. For, 
 though this may be but a slight ground to raise a positive opinion 
 upon in this matter, yet it is sufficient to answer a mere arbitrary 
 assertion, without any kind of evidence, urged by way of objection 
 against a doctrine, the proof of which is not reason but revelation. 
 Consider then — people ruin their fortunes by extravagance; they 
 bring diseases upon themselves by excess; they incur the penalties 
 of civil laws, and surely civil government is natural; will sorrow for 
 these follies past, and behaving well for the future, alone and of 
 itself prevent the natural consequences of them? On the contrary, 
 men's natural abilities of helping themselves are often impaired; or 
 if not, yet they are forced to be beholden to the assistance of others, 
 upon several accounts and in difterent ways; assistance which they 
 would have had no occasion forbad it not been for their misconduct, 
 but which, in the disadvantageous condition they have reduced them- 
 selves to, is absolutely necessary to their recovery, and retrieving 
 their affairs. Now since this is our case, considering ourselves merely 
 as inhabitants 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 mora! gov- 
 ernment, and having a more general and future interest dependingr 
 Ifwe have misbehaved in this higher capacity, and rendered out- 
 selves 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 insuflicient, alone and 
 of itself, to prevent that punishment, or to put us in the condition 
 which we should have been in had we preserved our innocence. 
 
 And though we ought to reason with all reverence, whenever we 
 reason concerning the divine conduct, yet it may be added, that it is 
 clearly contrary to all our notions of government, ns well as to what 
 is in fact the general constitution of nature, to suppose that doing 
 well for the future should, in all cases prevent all the judicial bad 
 consequences of having done evil, or all the punishment annexed to 
 disobedience. And we have manifestly nothing from whence to de- 
 termine, in what degree and in what cases reformation would pre- 
 vent this punishment, even supposing that it would in some. And 
 though the efficacy of repentance itself alone, to prevent what man- 
 kind had rendered themselves obnoxious to, and recover what they 
 had forfeited, is now insisted upon in opposition to Christianity- 
 jet, bv the general prevalence of propitiatory sacrifices over the 
 
Chap. V. a Mediator and Redeemer. 1.53 
 
 heathen world, this notion of repentance alone being sufficient to ex- 
 piate guilt, appears to be contrary to the general sense of mankind. 
 
 Upon the whole then, had the laws, the general laws of God's gov- 
 ernment been permitted to operate, without any interposition in our 
 behalf, the future punishment, for aught we know to the contrary, or 
 have any reason to think, must inevitably have followed, notwith- 
 standing any thing we could have done to prevent it. Now, 
 
 V. In this darkness, or this light of nature, call it which you 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 dispen- 
 sation, and which, if not proveable by reason, yet it is in no wise 
 contrary to it) teaches us too, that the rules of divine government 
 are such as not to admit of pardon immediately and directly upoa 
 repentance, or by the sole efficacy of it; but then teaches at the same 
 time what nature might justly have hoped, that the moral govern- 
 ment of the universe was not so rigid, but that there was room for an 
 interposition to avert the fatal consequences of vice, which therefore 
 by this means does admit of pardon. Revelation teaches us, that the 
 unknown laws of God's more general government, no less than the 
 particular laws by which we experience he governs us at present, are 
 compassionate,* as well as good in the more general notion of good- 
 ness; and that he hath mercifully provided that there should be an 
 interposition to prevent the destruction of human kind, whatever 
 that destruction unprevented would have been. God so loved the 
 world, that he gave his only begotten Son^ that whosoever believeth, 
 not to be sure in a speculative, but in a practical sense, that whoso" 
 ever believeth in him should not perish;\ gave his Son in the same 
 way of goodness to the world as he aflbrds particular persons the 
 friendly assistance of their fellow creatures, wheh 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 infi- 
 nitely higher degree. And the Son of God loved ms and gave himself 
 for us, with a love which he himself compares to that of human 
 friendship, though in this case all comparisons must fall infinitely 
 short of the thing intended to be illustrated by them. He interposed 
 in such a manner, as was necessary and effectual to prevent that exe- 
 cution of justice upon sinners, which God had appointed should other- 
 wise have been executed upon them; or in sucn a manner as to pre- 
 vent that punishment from actually following, which, according to 
 the general laws of divine government, must have followed the sins 
 of the world, had it not been for such interposition.:}; 
 
 • Page 1 50, &c. t John iii. 1 6. 
 
 t It cannot, I suppose, be imagined, even by the most cursory reader, that it is ia 
 any sort affirmed or implied in any thing said in this chapter, that none can have the 
 benefit of the general Redemption but such as have the advantage of being made ac- 
 quainted Tvith it in the present life But it may he needful to mention, that several 
 questions which have been brought ir.to the subject before us, and determined, ai'e 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 governmerit. And had not Christ come into the world, what would have^ 
 
 u 
 
154 I'lie Appointment of Part \I, 
 
 If any thing here said should appear, upon first thought, inconsist- 
 ent with divine goodness, a second, I am persuaded, will entirely 
 remove that appearance. For were we to suppose the constitution 
 of things to he such as that the whole creation must have perished, 
 had it not heen for somewhat, which God had appointed should be, in 
 order to prevent that ruin — even this supposition would not be incon- 
 sistent in any degree with the most absolutely perfect goodness. But 
 still it may be thought, that this whole manner of treating the sub* 
 ject 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 miseries, 
 and the extreme wickedness of the world, that the best have great 
 wrongnesses within themselves, which they complain of and endeavor 
 to amend, but that the generality grow more profligate and corrupt 
 with age; that heathen moralists thought the present state to be a 
 state of punishment; and what might be added, that the earth our 
 habitation has the appearances of being a ruin; — whoever, I say, will 
 consider 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 diflicult 
 soever he may think it to account for, or even to form a distinct con- 
 ception of the occasions and circumstances of it. But that the crime 
 of our first parents was the occasion of our being plac«d in a more 
 disadvantageous condition, is a thing throughout and particularly au 
 alogous to what we see in the daily course of natural providence; as 
 the recovery of the world by the interposition of Cnrist has been 
 shewn to be so in general. 
 
 V[. The particular manner in which Christ interposed in the re- 
 demption of the world, or his office as mediator, in the largest sense, 
 between God and man, is thus represented to us in the Scripture. 
 He is the liglit of the world;* the revealer of the will of God in the 
 most eminent sense. He is a propitiatory sacrifice;! The Lamb of 
 God;^ and, as he voluntarily offered himself up, he is stiled our 
 high priest. § And, which seems of peculiar weight, be is described 
 beforehand in the Old Testament, under the same characters of a 
 priest, and an expiatory victim. |) And whereas it is objected, that 
 all this is merely by way of allusion to the sacrifices of the Mosaick 
 law, the apostle on the contrary aflirms, that the law was a shadow 
 of good things to come, and not the very image of the things;"^ and 
 that the priests that offer gifts according to the law — serve unto the 
 example and shadow of heavenly things, as Moses ivas admonished 
 
 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 not appointed. 
 The meaning of the first of these questions is greatly ambiguous; and neither ot them 
 can proj)erly be answered, without going upon that infinitely absurd supposition, that 
 we know the whole ot the case. And perhaps the very inquiry, what would have fol- 
 lowed if God had not done as he has, ma)' have in it some very great impropriety, 
 and ought not to be carried on any farther than is necessary to help our partial and in- 
 adequate conceptions of things. 
 
 • John i and viii 12. f Rom. iii. 25, and v. 11. 1 Cor v. 7. Eph v 2. 1 John ii. 2. 
 Matth xxvi. 28. i John i 29, 36, and throughout the book of Revelat ion. 
 
 § Throughout the Epistle to the Hebrews, !1 Isai liii. Dan, ix. 24, Ps ex 4. 
 
 7 Heb. K. 1. 
 
Chap. V. a Mediator and Redeemer. 155 
 
 of God, when he was about to make the tabernacle. For see, saith 
 he, that thou make all things according to the pattern shelved to thee 
 in the mount;* i.e. the Levitical priesthowl was a shadow of the 
 priesthood of Christ, in like manner as the tahernacle made by tVb- 
 i'es, was according to that shewed him ipthe jinount. The priest- 
 hood of Christ, and the tabernacle in the inoii_tj.t, were the originals; 
 of the former of which the Levitical priesthood was a type^ and of 
 the latter the tabernacle made by Moses was a copy. The doctrine 
 of this epistle tiien plainly is. that the legal sacrifices were allusions 
 to the great and final atonement, to be made by the blood of Christ; 
 and not that this was an allusion to those. Nor can any thing ba 
 more express or determinate, than the folIo\ying passage. Itisnot 
 possible that the blood of bidls and of goats should take nway sin. 
 Wherefore when he cometh into the world, he saith. sacrifice and of- 
 fering, i. e. of bulls and of goats, thou woiddest not, .put a body hast 
 thou prepared me — Lo I come to do thy will God— By whi'^h ivill 
 ice are sanctified, through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ 
 once for all.\ And to add one passage more of the like kind — 
 Christ was mce offered to. bear the sins of many, and unto them that 
 look for him shall he appear the second time, without sin. i. e, with- 
 out bearing sin as he did at his first coming, by being an oiTering for 
 it, without having our iniquities again laid upon him, without being 
 any more a sin offering; — unto them that look for him shall he appear 
 the second time, without sin, unto salvation { Nor do the inspired 
 writers at all confine themselves to this manner of speaking con- 
 cerning the satisfaction of Christ, but declare an efficacy in what he 
 did and suffered for us, additional to and beyond mere instruction, 
 example and government, in great variety of expression: That Jesus 
 should die for that natioti the Jews; cnid not for that nation only, 
 but that aZsoj plaini y by the efficacy of his death, he should gather 
 together in one, the children of God that ivere scattered abroad;^ 
 that he suffered for sins, the just for the unjust;'} tha.t he gave his 
 life, himself a ransom;^ that we are bought, boiight with a price;** 
 that he redeemed us with his blood; redeemed ns from the curse of 
 the law, being made a curse for us;i-\ that he is our advocate, inter- 
 cessor and propitiation ;\\ that he was made perfect, or consummate, 
 through sufferings; and being thus made perfect, he became the au- 
 thor of salvation;§§ that God was in Christ reconciling the ivorld 
 to himself, by the death of his Son, by the cross, not imputing their 
 trespasses unto them;^! |j and lastly, that through death he destroyed 
 him that had the power of death.%^ Christ then having thus hum- 
 bled himself, and become obedient to death, even the death of the cross, 
 God also hath highly eo:idied him, and given him a name which is 
 above every name; hath given all things into his hands; hath com- 
 mitted all judgment unto him; that all men should honor the Son 
 even as they honor the Father.*** For, worthy is the Lamb that was 
 
 * Heb. Tiii. 4, 5 f Heb- x. 4, 5, 7, 9, 10 t Heb ix CS. § Job. xi. 51, 52. 
 SI Pet iii 18. ^ Matth xx. 28 Alarkx. 45 1 Tim ii 6 •• £ Pet. ii. I. Rev. 
 xiv 4 I Cor. vi. 20 fj- 1 Pet. i. 19 Rev. v. 9 GhI iii. l.^- t± Heb. vii 25. 
 IJoh ii 1 2. §§Heb ii 10,antlv 9 l!i|2Cor v 19 Rom. v 10 Eph ii 16. 
 •^ Heb. ii 14. See alsoa remarkable passage in theUookof Job, x.\xiLi. 24, **• Plul. 
 ii. 8, 9. Joh. iii. 35, and v, 22, 23. 
 
156 ' The Appointment of Part II. 
 
 slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and 
 honor, and glory, and blessing. And every creature which is in 
 heaven, and on the earth, heard I, saying, Blessing, and honor, and 
 glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto 
 the Lamb for ever and eveir.* ' 
 
 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 rcvealedj and it is usu- 
 ally treated of by divines under three heads. 
 
 First, he was, by way of eminence, the prophet; that prophet that 
 should come into the tvorld,] to declare the divine will. He pub- 
 lished anew the law of nature which men had corrupted, and the 
 very knowledge of which, to some degree, was lost among them. 
 He taught mankind, taught us authoritatively, to live soberly, right- 
 eously and godly in this present world, in eicpectation 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 testi- 
 mony.! He distinctly revealed the manner in which God would be 
 worshipped, the efficacy of repentance, and tlie rewards and punish- 
 ments 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 ice should follow his steps. 
 
 Secondly, he has a kingdom mhich is not of this world. He foun- 
 ded a church, to be to mankind a standing memorial of religion, and 
 invitation to it, which he promised to be with always even to the 
 end. He 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, /or the perfecting of the saints, 
 for the edifying his body, till tee all come, in the unity of the 
 faith, and of the knoicledge 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 scattei'ed 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 cvor and ever;'|) and 
 likewise ' to take vengeance on them that know not God, and obey 
 not his Gospel. 'If 
 
 Against these parts of Christ's office, I find no objections but what 
 are fully obviated in the beginning of this chapter. 
 
 Lastly, Christ otfered himself a propitiatory sacrifice, and made 
 atonement for the sins of the world; which is mentioned last in re- 
 gard to what is objected against it. Sacrifices of expiation were 
 commanded the Jews, and obtained aincmgstmost other nations from 
 tradition, whose original probably was revelation. And they were 
 continually repeated, both occasionally, and at the returns of stated 
 times, and made up great part of the external religion of mankind. 
 But now once in the end of the u'orld Christ appeared to put away 
 sin by the sacrifice of himself** And this sacrifice \yas, in the high- 
 est degree and with the most extensive influence, of that efficacy for 
 
 •Rev.v.12, 13. fJohvi.U. tPageT2l, Sec. C, Eph. iv. 12, 13. flJoU 
 jiriv. 2, S. Rev. iii. 2i, .sud xi !">. f 2 Thess. t. 8. •« Heb. ix. 25. 
 
Chap. V. a Mediator and Redeemer. 157 
 
 obtaining pardon of sin, which the heathens may be supposed to have 
 thought their sacrifices to have been, and which the Jewish sacrifices 
 really were in some degree, and with regard to some persons. 
 
 How and in what particular way it had this efficacy, there are not 
 "wanting persons who have endeavored to explain; but I do not find 
 that the ocripture has explained it. We seem to be very much in 
 the dark concerning the manner in which the ancients understood 
 atonement to be made, i. e. pardon to be obtained by sacrifices. And 
 if the Scripture has, as surely it has, left this matter of the satisfac- 
 tion of Christ mysterious, left somewhat in it unrevealed, all conjec- 
 tures about it must be, if not evidently absurd, yet at least uncer- 
 tain. Nor has any one reason to complain for want of farther in- 
 formation, unless he can shew his claim to it. 
 
 Some having endeavored to explain the eflicacy of what Christ 
 has done and suffered for us, beyond- what the Scripture has author- 
 ized, others, probably because they could not explain it, have been 
 for taking it away, and confining his office as redeemer of the world 
 to his instruction, example and government of the church. Where- 
 as the doctrine 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 having our repentance accepted unto eternal 
 life; not only that he revealed to sinners that they were in a capaci- 
 ty 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 thankful- 
 ly to accept the benefit, by performing 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 punishment in a fu- 
 ture state would have followed wickedness in this; nor in what man- 
 ner it would have been inflicted had it not been prevented; nor all 
 the reasons why its infliction would have been needful; nor the par- 
 ticular nature of that state of happiness which Christ is gone to pre- 
 pare for his disciples; and since we are ignorant how far any thing 
 which 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 ai-e not 
 judges antecedently to revelation, whether a mediator was or was 
 not necessary to obtain those ends, to prevent that future punish- 
 ment, and bring mankind to the final happiness of their nature. 
 And for the very same reasons, upon supposition of the necessity of a 
 mediator, we are no more judges antecedently to revelation, of the 
 whole nature of his office, or the several parts of which it consists, 
 of what was fit and requisite to be assigned him, in order to accom- 
 plish 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 
 ■his absurdity. But if it be acknowledged beforehand that we are 
 
158 The Appointment of Paet II. 
 
 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 Scripture, till it can be shewn positive- 
 ly not to be requisite 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 satisfaction of Christ, 
 which looks to be of this positive kind, that the doctrine of his being 
 appointed to suffer for tlie sins of the world, represents God as being 
 indifferent whether he punished the innocent or the guilty. Now 
 from the foregoing observations we may see the extreme slightness 
 of all such objections; 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 constitution of nature, and the whole 
 daily course of divine Providence in the government of the world, i. e. 
 against the whole scheme of theism, and the whole notion of reli- 
 gion, 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 na- 
 ture, 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 in- 
 stance we are now considering. The infinitely greater importance 
 of that appointment of Christianity which is objected against, does 
 not hinder but it may be, as it plainly is, an appointment of the very 
 same kind with what the world afltbrds us daily examples of. Nay, 
 if there were any force at all ifl 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 whether we will or not, to suffer for the faults of 
 others — whereas the sufferings of Christ were voluntary. The 
 xvorld's being under the righteous government of God dees indeed 
 imply that, finaHy and upon the whole, every one shall receive ac- 
 cording to his personal deserts; and the general doctrine of the 
 whole Scripture is, that this shall be the completion of the divine 
 government. But during the progress, and for aught we know even 
 m 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 assis- 
 tance of others. God commands by the law of nature, that we af- 
 ford them this assistance, in many cases where we cannot do it with- 
 out very great pains, and labor, 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 constitution 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 insisting upon ob- 
 jections of the foregoing kind against the satisfaction of Christ, is, 
 either that thej do not consider Ciod's settled and uniform appoint- 
 ments as his appointments at all, or else they forget that vicarious 
 punishment is a providential appointment of every day's experience? 
 
Chap. V. a Mediator and Redeemer. 159 
 
 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, un- 
 less by arbitrary and tyrannical will — they conclude his sufferings 
 could not contribute to it any other way. And yet, what has beeu 
 often alleged in justification of this doctrine, even from the apparent 
 natural tendency of this method of our redemption; its tendency to 
 vindicate the authority of God's laws, and deter his creatures from 
 sin — this has never yet been answered, and is 1 think plainly unan- 
 swerable, though I am far from thinking it an account of the whole 
 of the case. But without taking this into consideration, it abundant- 
 ly appears from the observations above made, that this objection is 
 not an objection against Christianity, but against the whole general 
 constitution of nature. And if it were to be considered as an ob- 
 jection against Christianity, or considering it as it is, an objection 
 against the constitution of nature — it amounts to no more in conclu- 
 sion than this, that a divine appointment cannot be necessary or ex- 
 pedient, because the objector does not discern it to be so, though he 
 must own that the nature of the case is such, as renders him unca- 
 pable of judging whether it be so or not, or of seeing it to be neces- 
 sary, though it were so. 
 
 It is indeed a matter of great patience to reasonable men, to find 
 people arguing in this manner, objecting against the credibility of 
 such particular things revealed in Scripture, that ihey do not see the 
 necessity or expediency of them. For th<»ugh it is highly i Jght, 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 be from God, is infinitely absurd. 
 The presumption of 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, against things in Christianity analogous 
 or like to those 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 
 shewn 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 ob- 
 jecting 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 analo- 
 gy of nature, should teach us not to expect to have the like informa- 
 tion concerning the divine conduct as concerning our own duty. 
 God instructs us by experience, (for it is not reason, 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 instruc- 
 ted for the common purposes of life, jet it is but an almost infinite- 
 ly 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 me- 
 diator between God and man, against which it is objected that the 
 
160 Ttie Apppintmevt of a Mediatory ^c. Part II 
 
 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 Medi- 
 ator's in the execution of it. For what is required of us, in conse- 
 quence of this gracious dispensation, is another subject in which 
 none can complain for want of information. The constitution 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 giv- 
 en men all things pertaining to life, and under the other all things 
 pertaining unto godliness. And it may be added, that there is noth- 
 ing hard to be accounted for in any of the common precepts of Chris- 
 tianity; though if there were, surely a divine command is abundant- 
 ly sufficient to lay us under the strongest obligations to obedience. 
 But the fact is, that the reasons of all the Christian precepts are ev- 
 ident. Positive institutions are manifestly necessary to keep up 
 and propagate religion amongst mankind. And our duty to Christ, 
 the internal and external worship of him; this part of the religion 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.* 
 
 *Pagei24, &c. 
 
Chap. VI. , Bevelation not universal^ Sfc. 161 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Of the want of Universality in Revelation; and of the supposed 
 Deficiency in the Proof of it. 
 
 IT lias been thought by some persons, that if the evidence of revela- 
 tion appears doubtful, this itself turns into a positive argument 
 against it, because 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 shewn, 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 
 favor 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 favor upon any 
 unless he bestowed the same upon allj suppositions which we find 
 contradicted not by a few instances 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 interests. For, it is not only 
 extremely difficult, but, in many cases, absolutely impossible, to bal- 
 ance 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 tem- 
 per and taste, for satiety, disgusts, 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 disappoint the best con- 
 certed schemes; and strong objections are often seen to lie against 
 them, not to he removed or answered, but which seem overbalanced 
 by reasons on the other side; so as that the certain difficulties and 
 dangers of the pursuit are, by every one, thought justly disregarded, 
 upon account of the appearing greater advantages in case of success, 
 thougli< there be but little probability of it. Lastly, every one ob- 
 serves our liableness, if we be not upon our guard, to be deceived by 
 the falsehood of mes), and the false appearances of things; and this 
 danger must be g. _u.tly increased, if there be a strong bias within, 
 suppose from indulged passion, to favor the deceit. ' Hence arises 
 that great uncen.iinty a id doubtfulness of proof, wherein our tem- 
 poral interest really consists, what are the most probable means of 
 attaining it, and whether those means wi!" eventually be successful. 
 W 
 
162 Revelallun not universal: Part II. 
 
 Aud uunibcriess instances there are, in the daily course of life, in 
 vvliich all men think it reasonable to engage in pursuits, (hough the 
 probabilit)? is greatly against succeeding, and to make such piuvision 
 for themselves, as it is supposable they may have occasion 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 obseive, 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. In- 
 deed he appears to bestow all his gifts with the most promiscuous 
 variety among creatures of the same species; health and strength, 
 capacities of prudence and of knowledge, means of improvement, 
 riches, and all external advantages. And as there are not an> two 
 men found of exactlj' like shape and features, 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 gov- 
 ernment over the world, and there is such a thing as a prudent and 
 imprudent institution of life, with regard to our health and our aftairs 
 under that his natural government. 
 
 As neither the Jewish nor Christian revelation havebeenuniversal, 
 and as they have been aftorded to a greater or less part of the world, 
 at different times, so likewise at different times boih revelations have 
 had different degrees of evidence The Jews who lived during the 
 succession of prophets, that is, from Moses till after the captivitj"^, 
 had higher evidence of the truth of their religion, than those had, 
 who lived in the interval between the last mentioned period and the 
 coming of Christ. And the first Christians had higher evidence of 
 the miracles wrought in 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 argument, than many 
 think, of which we have very little remaining; 1 mean the presump- 
 tive 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 pos- 
 sibly have a proof of it, which they could not have, from the conform- 
 ity between the prophetic history 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 reli- 
 gion, with a distinct knowledge of their duty; and others severally to 
 have all the intermediate 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 
 ignorance and darkness; that certain glimmerings of this light should 
 extend and be directed to remote distances, in such a manner as that 
 those who really partook of it should not discern from whence it 
 originally came; that some in a nearer situation to it should have its 
 light obscured, and in different ways and degrees intercepted; and 
 tliat others should be placed within its clearer influence, and be much 
 
Chap. VI. Supposed Deficienney in its Proof. 1G5 
 
 more enlivened, cheered and directed by it; but yet that even to 
 these it should be no more than a light shining in a dark place;— 
 all this would be perfectly uniform and of a piece with the conduct 
 of Providence in the distribution of its other blessings. If the fact 
 of the case really were, that some have received 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 reli- 
 gion enforced upon their consciences, yet have never had the genu- 
 ine scripture revelation with its real evidence proposed to their con- 
 sideration, and the ancient Persians and modern Mahometans may 
 possibly be instances of people in a situation 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 fniracles, 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 them- 
 selves Christian. And lastly, that others have had Christianity 
 offered to them in its genuine simplicity, and with its proper evi- 
 dence, as persons in countries and churciies of civil and of Christian 
 liberty; but however that even these persons are left in great igno- 
 rance in many respects, and have by no means light afforded them 
 enough to satisfy their curiosity, but only to regulate their life, to 
 teach them their duty, and encourage them in the careful discharge 
 of it: I say, if we were to suppose this somewhat of a general true 
 account of the degrees of moral and religious light and evidence,* 
 ■which were intended to be aflforded mankind, and of what has actu- 
 ally been and is their situation, in their moral and religious capacity, 
 there would be nothing in all this ignorance, doubtfulness and uncer- 
 tainty, 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 pres- 
 ent, 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 administration 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, after it is acknowl- 
 edged in words. All shadow of injustice, and indeed all harsh ap- 
 pearances, in this various 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 equi- 
 tably 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; i. e. in Scripture language, that every man shall be 
 accepted according to what he had, not according to what he had not* 
 This however doth not by any means imply that all persons' condi- 
 tion here is equally advantageous with respect to futury. And Prov- 
 idence's designing to place some in greater darkness with respect to 
 religious knowledge, is no more a reason why they should not en- 
 deavor to get out of that darkness, and others to bring them out of 
 
 *2 Cor. viii. 12. 
 
164 Revelation not universal: Part II. 
 
 it, than why ignorant and slow people in matters of other knowledge 
 should not endeavor to learn, or should not be instructed. 
 
 It is not unreasonable to suppose that the same wise and good 
 principle, whatever it was, which disposed the Author of nature to 
 make dift'erent 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 different religious situations, and even the same crea . 
 tures in different periods of their being. And the account or reason 
 of this is also most pi-obably the account, why the constitution of 
 things is such, as that creatures of moral natures or capacities, for a 
 considerable part of that duration in which they are living agents, 
 are not at all subjects of morality and religion, hut grow up <o be so, 
 and grow up to be so more and more, gradually from childhood to 
 mature age. 
 
 What, in particular, is the account or reason of these things, wc 
 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 conse- 
 quence of somewhat past which we are wholly ignorant of, as it has 
 a reference to somewhat to come, of which v/e 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 capacities of understanding, from the different lengths 
 of their lives, their different educations and other external circum- 
 stances, and from their difference of temper and bodily constitution; 
 their religious situations would be widely different, and the disad- 
 vantage 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 mankind, are placed in this condition of ignorance, 
 must be supposed also the true account of our farther ignorance, 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 circum- 
 stances of mankind or their own, in the forementioned respects, a 
 ground of complaint. 
 
 First, the evidence of religion not appearing obvious, may consti- 
 tute 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 under- 
 standing, 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 probation, with rejiard to the exercise of our understanding 
 upon the subject of religion, us we are with regard to our behaviour 
 in common affairs, 'i'he 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 obedi- 
 ent 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 thiit in the i^i*er state his examination 
 would be with an impartiality, seriousness and solicitude proportion- 
 
Chap. VI. Supposed Deficiency in its Froof. 165 
 
 able to what his obedience is in the former. And as inattention, neg- 
 ligence, want of all serious concern about a matter of such a nature 
 and such importance, when offered to men's consideration, is, before 
 a distinct conviction of its truth, as real immoral depravity and dis- 
 soluteness, as neglect of religious practice after such conviction — so 
 active solicitude about it, and fair impartial consideration of its evi- 
 dence before such conviction, is as really an exercise of a morally 
 light temper as is religious practice after. Thus, that relif^ion is not 
 intuitively true, but a matter of deduction and inference; that a con- 
 viction of its truth is not forced upon every one, but left to be, by 
 some, collected with heedful attention to premises; this as inuch 
 constitutes religious probation, as much affords sphere, scope, oppor- 
 tunity, for right and wrong behaviour as any thing whatever does. 
 And their manner of treating this subject when laid before them, 
 shews what is in their heart, and is an exertion of it. 
 
 Secondly, it appears to be a thing as evident, though it is not so 
 much attended to, that if upon consideration of religion the evidence 
 of it should seem to any persons doubtful, in the highest supposable 
 degree, even this doubtful evidence will, however, put them into a 
 general state of probation in the moral and religious sense. For, 
 suppose a man to be really in doubt whether such a person had not 
 done him the greatest favor, or whether his whole temporal interest 
 did not depend upon that person=— no one, who had any sense of grat- 
 itude and of prudence, could possibly consider himself in the same 
 situation with regard to such person, as if he had no such doubt. In 
 truth, it is as just to say that certainty and doubt are the same, as to 
 say, the situations now mentioned would leave a man as entirely at 
 liberty in point of gratitude or prudence, as he would be were he cer- 
 tain he had received no favor frorn such person, or that he no way 
 depended upon him. And thus, though the evidence of religion 
 which is afforded to some men should be little more than that they 
 are given to see the system of Christianity, or religion in general, to 
 be supposable and credible — this ought in all reason to beget a seri- 
 ous practical apprehension that it may be true. And even this will 
 afford matter of exercise for religious suspense and deliberation, for 
 moral resolution and self-government, because the apprehension tiiat 
 religion may be true, does as really lay men under obligations as a 
 full conviction that it is true. It gives occasion and motives to con- 
 sider farther the important subject, to preserve attentively upon their 
 minds a general implicit sense that they may be under divine moral 
 government, an awful solicitude about religion, whether natural or 
 revealed. Such apprehension ought to turn men's eyes to every de- 
 gree of new light which may be had, from whatever side it comes, 
 and induce them to refrain in the mean time from all immoralities, 
 and live in the conscientious practice of every common virtue. Es- 
 pecially are they bound to keep at the greatest distance from all dis- 
 solute profaneness; for this the very nature of the case forbids; and 
 to treat with highest reverence a matter, upon which their own whole 
 interest and being, and the fate of nature depends. This behaviour, 
 and an active endeavor to maintain within themselves this temper, is 
 the business, the duty, and the wisdom of those persons, who com- 
 plain of the doubtfulness of religion; is what they are under the most 
 
166 Revelation not univernal: Part II. 
 
 proper obligations to. And such behaviour is an exertion of, and has 
 a tendency' 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 attbrded such conviction. Nay, considering 
 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 
 M'ho have only a serious doubting apprehension that it may be true. 
 Their hopes, and fears, and obligjrtions 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 uidike. 
 
 It is to be observed farther, that from a character of understand- 
 ing, 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 avowfed disregard to all religion, or, on the con- 
 trary, of a serious, though perhaps doubting apprehension of its truth, 
 and of a reverend regard to it under this doubtfulness, than they can 
 do, bj acting well or ill in all the common intercourses amongst 
 mankind. And consequently they are most highly accountable for 
 a behaviour, which they may easily foresee is of such importance, 
 and in which there is most plainly a right and a wrong, even admit- 
 ting the evidence of religion to be as doubtful as is pretended. 
 
 The ground of these observations, and that which renders them 
 just and true, is, that doubting necessarily implies some degree of 
 evidence for that of which we doubt. For no person would be in 
 doubt concerning the truth of a number of facts so and so circum- 
 stanced, which should accidentally come into his thoughts, and of 
 which he had no evidencce at all. And though in the case of an 
 even chance, and where consequently we were in doubt, we should 
 in common language say that we had no evidence at all for either 
 side — yet that situation of things, which renders it an even chance 
 and no more, that such an event will happen, renders this case equiv- 
 alent to all others, where there is such evidence on both sides of a 
 question,* as leaves the mind in doubt concerning the truth. In- 
 deed in all these cases, there is no more evidence on one side than 
 on the other; but there is (what is equivalent to) much moVe for 
 either than for the truth of a number of facts which come into one's 
 thoughts at random. And thus in all these cases doubt as much 
 presupposes evidence, lower degrees of evidence, as belief presup- 
 poses higher, and certainty higher still. Any one who will a little 
 attend to the nature of evidence, will easily carry this observation 
 on. and see that between no evidence at all, and that diegree of it 
 which affords ground of doubt, there are as many intermediate 
 degrees, as there are between that degree which is the ground of 
 doubt, and demonstration. And though we have not faculties to 
 distinguish these degrees of evidence with any sor^ ff exactness, yet 
 
 * rntrod'i'^tioc. 
 
Chap. VI. Supposed Deficiency of its Proof. 167 
 
 in proportion as thej are discerned they ought to influence our prac- 
 tice. For it is as real an imperfection in the moral character, not to 
 be influenced in practice by a lower degree of evidence when dis- 
 cerned, 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 understan' 
 ding— so in practical subjects they are influenced in practice, by the 
 lower as well as higher degrees of it, proportionably to their fairness 
 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 imposed 
 upon in such cases — so in proportion to the corruption of tjie heart, 
 they seem capable of satisfying themselves with having no regard in 
 practice to evidence acknowledged real, if it be not overbearing. 
 From these things it must follow, that doubting concerning religioa 
 injplies such a degree of evidence for it as, joined with the consid- 
 eration of its importance, unquestionably lays men under the obliga- 
 tions 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 com- 
 plaint, than the external circumstances of temptation which others 
 are placed in, or than difficulties in the practice of it after a full 
 conviction of its truth. Temptations render our state a more in-pro- 
 ving state of discipline* than it would be otherwise, as they give oc- 
 casion for a more attentive exercise of the virtuous principle, which 
 confirms and strengthens it more than an easier or less attentive 
 exercise of it could. Now speculative difficulties are, in this respect, 
 of the very same nature with these external temptations. For the 
 evidence of religion not appearing obvious, is to some persons a. 
 temptation to reject it, without any consideration at all; and there- 
 fore requires such an attentive exercise of the virtuous principle, se- 
 riously to consider that evidence, as there would be no occasion for 
 but for such temptation. And the supposed doubtfulness of its evi- 
 dence, after it has been in some sort considered, affords opportunity 
 to an unfair mind of explaining away, and deceitfully hiding frons 
 itself, that evidence which it might see, and also for men's encour- 
 aging themselves in vice from hopes of impunity, though they do 
 clearly see thus much at least that these hopes are uncertain; in like 
 manner as the common temptation to many instances of folly, which 
 end in temporal infamy and ruin, is the ground for hope of not bein*» 
 detected, and of escaping with impunity; i. e. the doubtfulness ol 
 the proof beforehand, that such foolish behaviour will thus end ia 
 infamy and ruin. On the contrary, supposed doubtfulness in the evi- 
 dence of religion calls for a more careful and attentive exercise of 
 the virtuous principle in fairly yielding themselves up to the proper 
 influence of any real evidence, though doubtful, and in practising 
 conscientiously all virtue, 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 
 
 * Part !. Chap. -, 
 
168 Eevelation not universal: Part II. 
 
 by this word the lesser allurements to wrong and difficulties in the 
 discharge of our duty, as well as the greater ones — temptation, I 
 say, as such, and of every kind and degree, as it calls forth some 
 virtuous efforts, additional to what would otherwise have been wan- 
 ting, cannot but be an additional discipline and improvement of 
 virtue, as well as probation of it in the other senses of that word.* 
 So that the very same 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 exercise of their understan- 
 ding 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 require attention, solicitude and pains; or, 
 why appearing doubtfulness should be permitted to afford matter of 
 temptation to some, as why external difficulties and alUnements 
 should be permitted to afford matter of temptation to others. The 
 same account also is to be given why some should be exercised with 
 temptations of both these kinds, as why others should be exercised 
 with the latter in such very high degrees as some have been, partic- 
 ularly as the primitive Christians were. 
 
 Nor does there appear any absurdity in supposing, that the spec- 
 ulative difficulties in which the evidence of religion is involved, may 
 make even the principal part of some persons' trial. For, as the 
 chief temptations of the generality of the world are, the ordinary 
 motives to injustice or unrestrained pleasure, or to live in the neg- 
 lect of religion, from that frame of mind which renders many per- 
 sons aliKDst 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 temper, persons of a deeper sense as to what is invis- 
 ible and future; who not only see, but have a general practical 
 feeling, that what is to come will be present, and that things are not 
 less real for their not being the objects of sense; and who, from their 
 natural 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 difficulties, the practice of it is to 
 them unavoidable, unless they will do a constant violence to their 
 own minds; and religion is scarce any more a discipline to them than 
 it is to creatures in a state of perfection. 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 practice of religion. 
 Or it may be requisite for reasons unknown to us, that they should 
 give some farther manifestationf what is their moral character, 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 proba- 
 tion, in all senses, of some persons, may be the difficulties in which 
 the evidence of religion is involved; and their principal and distin- 
 guished trial may be, how they will behave under and with respect 
 to these difficulties. Circumstances in men's situation in their tem- 
 
 ^ Part I. Chap, v, and page 06, f Pi»ge 96. 
 
€hap. Vt- Supposed Deficiency of its-Froof, 169 
 
 poral capacity, analogous in good measure to this respecting religion, 
 are to be observed. We find some persons are placed in such a situ- 
 ation in the world, as that their chief difficulty with regard to con- 
 duct, is not the doing what is prudent when it is known, for this in 
 numberless cases is as easy as the contrary, but to some the princi- 
 pal exercise is, recollection and being upon their guard against 
 deceits, the deceits suppose of those about them, against false ap- 
 pearances of reason and prudence. To persons in some situations 
 the principal exercise with respect to conduct is, attention in order 
 to inform themselves what is proper, what is really the reasonable 
 and prudent part to act. 
 
 -But as 1 have hitherto gone upon supposition, that men's dissatis- 
 faction with the evidence of religion 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 requires should be 
 added, that such dissatisfaction possibly may be owing to those, pos- 
 sibly may be men's own fault. For, 
 
 If there are any persons who never set themselves heartily and ia 
 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 evidence of religion, though it were most certainly true, 
 and capable of being ever so fully proved. If any accustom them- 
 selves to consider this subject usually in the way of mirth and sport; 
 if they attend to forms and representations, and inadequate man- 
 ners of expression, instead of the real things intended by them; 
 (for signs often can be no more than inadequately expressive of the 
 things signified) 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 evidence 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 experience, hinder them from attain- 
 ing that knowledge and right understanding, in matters of common 
 speculation and practice, which more fair and attentive minds attain 
 to.'* And the effect will be the same, whether their neglect of seri- 
 ously considering the evidence of religion, and their indirect behav- 
 iour with regard to it, proceed from mere carelessness, or from the 
 grosser vices; or whether it be owing to this, that forms and figura- 
 tive manners of expression, as well as errors, administer occasions 
 of 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 con- 
 duct and prudence in worldly affairs, and even as it seems to impair 
 their faculty of reason. And in general, levity, carelessness, pas- 
 sion and prejudice do hinder us from being rightly informed with 
 respect to common things; and they may in like manner, and per- 
 haps in some farther providential manner, with respect to moral 
 and religious subjects; may hinder evidence from being laid before 
 us, and from being seen when it is. The Scripture* does declare 
 
 •Daiuxii. 10. See also Isai. xxix. 13, 14. Matth. vi. 23, andxi. 25, and xiii. II, 
 12. John iii. 19. John v. 4* I Cor. ii. 14, and 2 Cor. iv. 4» 2 Tim. iii. 13, and 
 
 X 
 
170 Revelation not universal: Part II. 
 
 that every one shall not understand. And it makes no difference by 
 what providential conduct this comes to pass: whether the evidence 
 of Christianity 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 minded 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- 
 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, arc 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 Christianity 
 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 
 difficulties; which, however, persons who are capable not only of 
 talking of, but of really seeing, are capable also of seeing through; 
 i. e. not of clearing 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 difficulties, 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 evidence 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 objec- 
 tions from others, and take for granted they 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 informa- 
 tion — in this case they must remain in doubtfulness, ignorance or 
 error, in the same way as they must with regard to common sciences, 
 and matters of common life, if they neglect the necessary 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 always bear the certain marks who they came from, and 
 
 that afTectionate, as ■well as authoritative admonition, so very many times inculcatecl, 
 • 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 purpose: Ut ita 
 sermo Evangelii tanquam lapis esset Lydius ad quem ingeaia sanabilia explorarentur- 
 De Vcr. R. C. L. 2, towards the end. 
 
Chap. VI. Supposed Deficiency of its Proof. 171 
 
 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 mean- 
 ing 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 par- 
 ticularly that he does not aftbrd us such information with respect to 
 our temporal affairs and interests, as experience abundantly shews. 
 However, there is a full answer to this objection from the very nature 
 of religion. For, the reason why a prince would give his directions 
 in this plain manner, is, that he absolutely desires such an external 
 action should be done, without concerning himself with the motive 
 or principle upon which it is done; i. e. he regards only the external 
 event, or the thing's being done, and not at all, properly speaking, 
 the doing of it, ©r the action. Whereas the whole of morality and 
 religion 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, i. e. 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 respecting morality and religion may be considered 
 either as absolute or as only conditional. If it be absolute, it can 
 only be thus, that we should, act virtuously in such given circum- 
 stances; not that we should be brought to act so by his changing of 
 our circumstances. 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 religion 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 pecul- 
 iar difficulty in supposing our probation to be just as it is in those 
 respects which are above objected against. There stfems no pre- 
 tence, from the reason of the thing, to say, that the trial cannot equi- 
 tably 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 miscarriage, but either from their not attending 
 to what they certainly know, or from overbearing passion hurrying 
 them on to act contrary to it. For 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 probation may also be, 
 whether they will take due care to inform themselves by impartial 
 consideration, and afterwards whether they will act as the case 
 requfres, upon the evidence which they have, however doubtful. 
 And this, we find by experience, is frequently our probation,* in our 
 temporal capacity. For, the information which we want with regard 
 to car worldly interests is by no means always given us of course, 
 
 *Page60, 129, 168, 169. 
 
172- JRevelqtion not universal, Sfc. Part II. 
 
 without any care of our own. And we are greatly liable to self 
 deceit from inward secret prejudices, a'nd also to the deceits of oth- 
 ers. 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 evidence 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 consideration what we have to do, and venturing 
 upon extravagant courses because it is doubtful what will be the con- 
 sequence, are often naturally, i. e providentially, altogether as fatal 
 as misconduct occasioned by heedless inattention to what we cer 
 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 oft* all regard to religion under pretence of want of evir 
 ilence, 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 solicitude 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 M'hat is commonly called 
 probable; to guard not only against what we fully believe will, but 
 also ^.gainst what we think it supposable niay, happen: and to engage 
 in pursuits when the probability is greatly against success, if it be 
 credible that possibly we may succeed in them. 
 
Ch\p. VII. Qf the particular Evidence^ ^e. 175 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Of the particular Evidence for Cfiristianity. 
 
 THE presumptions against revelation, and objections against the 
 general scheme of Christianity and particular things reiati.'i^ 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 evideuce and the objections 
 against it, or to see what it is, and is allowed to be, the plain natural 
 rule of judgment and of action, in our texnporal concerns, in cases 
 where we have the same kind of evidence and the same kind of objec- 
 tions against it that we have in the case before us. 
 
 Now in the evidence of Christianity there seem to be several 
 things of great weight, not reducible to the head either 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 direct 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 beginning 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 togetl^er, 
 one argument^ the conviction arising from which kind of proof may 
 be compared to what we call the effect in architefcture or other works 
 of art, a result from a great number of things so and so disposed, 
 and taken into one view. I shall therefore, first, make some obser- 
 vations relating to miracles and the appearing completions of proph- 
 ecy, and consider what analogy suggests in answer to the objections 
 brought against this evidence. And, secondly, I shall endeavor to 
 give some account of the general argument now mentioned, consis- 
 ting both of the direct and collateral evidence, considered as making 
 up one argument; this being the kind of proof upon which we deter- 
 mine most questions of difficulty, concerning common facts, alleged 
 to have happened or seeming likely to happen, especially questions 
 relating to conduct. 
 
 First, I shall make some observations upon the direct proof of 
 Christianity from miracles and prophecy, and upon the objection* 
 alleged against it. 
 
 I. Now the following observations relating to the historical evi- 
 dence of miracles wrought in attestation of Christianity appear to 
 be of great weight. . 
 
 1. The Old Testament affords us the same historical evidence of 
 the miracles of Moses and of the prophets, as of the common civil 
 history of Moses and the kings of Israel, or as of the aftairs of th^ 
 
IM Of the particular Evidence Part II. 
 
 Jewish nation. And the Gospels and the *Scts afford us the same 
 histurical evidence of the miracles of Christ and the apostles, as of 
 the common matters related in them. This indeed could not have 
 been affirmed by any reasonable man, if the authors of these books, 
 like many other historians, had appeared to make an entertaijiing 
 manner of writing their aim, though they had interspersed miracles 
 in their works, at proper distances and upon proper occasions. These 
 might have animated a dull relation, amused the reader, and enga- 
 ged 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 is to be given why the 
 poets make use of wonders and prodigies. But the facts, both mirac- 
 ulous and natural, in Scripture, are related in plain unadorned nar- 
 ratives, and both of them appear, in all respects, to stand upon the 
 same foot of historical evidence. Farther — some parts of Scrip- 
 ture, containing an account of miracles fully 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 cotemporary or subse- 
 quent 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 reli- 
 gions, which were events cotemporary with the mitacles related to 
 be wrought in attestation of both, or subsequent to them, these events 
 are just what we should have expected, upon supposition such mira- 
 cles were really wrought to attest the truth of those religions. These 
 miracles are a satisfactory account of those events; of which n» 
 other satisfactory account can be given, nor any account at all but 
 what is imaginary merely and invented. It is to be added, that the 
 most obvious, the most easy and direct account of this history, how 
 it came to be written and 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 fetch- 
 ed and indirect, may indeed be, and often is, the true account of 
 a matter — yet it cannot be admitted on the authority of its being as- 
 serted. Mere guess, supposition, and possibility^, when opposed to 
 historical evidence, prove nothing but that historical evidence is not 
 demonstrative. 
 
 Now the just consequence from all this, I think, is, that the scrip- 
 ture history in general is to be admitted as an authentic genuine his- 
 tory, till somewhat positive be alleged sufiicient to invalidate it. But 
 no man will deny the consequence to be, that it cannot be rejected, 
 or thrown by as of no authority, till it cart be proved to be of none; 
 even though the evidence now mentioned for its authority were 
 doubtful. This evidence may be confronted by historical evidence 
 on the other sid«, if there be any; or general incredibility in the 
 things related, or inconsistence in the general turn of the history, 
 v/ould prove it to be of no authority. But since, upon the face of 
 
w 
 
 Chap. VII. for Christianity. 175 
 
 the matter, upon a first and general view, the appearance is that it 
 is aa authentic history, it cannot be determined to be fictitious with- 
 out some proof that it is so. And the following observations, in 
 support of these and coincident with them, will greatly confirm the 
 historical evidence for the truth of Christianity. 
 
 2. The epistles of St. Paul, from the nature of epistolary- 
 writing, and moreover from several of them being written, not to par- 
 ticular 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 criti- 
 cism; 1 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 affairs 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 Ronianus, in an epistle of his own to that church.* Now 
 these epistles afford a proof ot Christianity; detached from all others, 
 vvhich is, I think, a thing of weight, and also a proof of a nature and 
 kind peculiar to itself. For, 
 
 In them the author declares, that he received the Gospel in gen- 
 eral, and the institution of the Communion 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 ^ctSf that he saw after his ascension-t So that the testimony 
 of St. Paul is to be 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 those 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 man- 
 ner and without effort, by way of reproof to those who had them, for 
 their indecent use of them, and by way of depreciating them, in com- 
 parison of moral virtues; in short, he speaks to these churches, of 
 these miraculous powers, in the manner any one would speak to an- 
 other of a thing, which was as familiar and as much known in com- 
 mon to them both, as any thing in the world. :f And this, as hath 
 been observed by several persons, is surely a very considerable thing. 
 
 3. It is an acknowledged historical fact, that Christianity of- 
 fered itself to the world, and demanded to be received, upon the 
 allegation, i. e. as unbelievers 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 very age, 
 
 • Clem. Rom. Ep. 1. c. 47. f Gal. i. 1 Cor, xL 23 &c 1 Cor xv. 8. 
 t Rom. XV 19. 1 Cor xii 8, 9, 10—28, &c. and ehap. xiii. 1, 2, 8, and {he whole 
 xiYth chap. 2 Cor. xii. 13, 13. Gal. iii. 2. 5. 
 
176 Of the particular Evidence sPaut II.; 
 
 and upon the professed belief of the reality of these miracles. And 
 Christianity, including the dispensation of the Old Testament, seems 
 distinguished by this from all other religions. 1 mean, that this does 
 not appear to be the case with regard to any other; for surely it will 
 not be supposed to lie upon any person, to prove by positive histori- 
 cal evidence that it was not. It does in no sort appear that Mahom- 
 etanism was first received in the world upon the foot of supposed 
 miracles,* j. e- public ones; for, as revelation is itself miraculous, all 
 pretence to it must necessarily imply some pretence of miracles. 
 And it is a known fact that it was immediately, at the very first, pro- 
 pagated by other means. And as particular institutions, whether 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 railed historical proof, that any of them were introduced 
 by u 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 accounted for, after parties are formed and have 
 power in their hands, and the leaders of them are in veneration with 
 the multitude, and political interests are blended with religious 
 claims and religious distinctions. But before any thing of this kind, 
 for a few perscns, and those of the lowest rank, all at once to bring 
 over such gieat 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 Chris- 
 tianity obtained, i. e. was professed to be received in the world, upon 
 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 en- 
 gaged in form against them — it cannot be supposed that such num- 
 bers should make so great, and, to say the least, so inconvenient a 
 change in their whole institution of life, unless they were really con- 
 vinced of the truth of those miracles, upon the knowledge or belief of 
 which they professed to make it. And it will, I suppose, readily be 
 acknowledged, that the generality of the first converts to Christianity 
 must have believed them; that as by becoming Christians they de- 
 clared to the world they were satisfied of the truth of those miracles: 
 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 
 
 * See the Koran^ c xiii. and c. svii; 
 
Chap. VI I. for Christianity. 177 
 
 evidence, because it is of facts which they had capacity and full op- 
 portunity to inform themselves of. It is also distinct from the direct 
 or express historical evidence, though it is of the same kind; and it 
 would be allowed to be distinct in all cases. For were a fact ex- 
 pressly 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 mankind 
 is acknowledged, and the suspicions of mankind ought to be acknowl- 
 edged too, and their backwardness even to believe, and greater still 
 to practice, what makes against their interest. And it must partic- 
 ularly be remertibered, that education, and prejudice, 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 mentioned 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 evidence, both direct 
 and circumstantial, of miracles wrought in attestation of Christian- 
 ity, collected by those who have writ upon the subject — it lies upon 
 unbelievers to shew, why this evidence is not to be credited. This 
 way of speaking is, I think, just, and what persons who write in de- 
 fence 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 argument, 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 shewing 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 pur- 
 pose this objection is brought. For every one surely, in every case, 
 must distinguish between opinions and facts. And though testimony 
 is no proof of enthusiastic opinions, or of any opinions at all, yet it is 
 allowed tn all other cases to be a proof of facts. And a person's 
 laying down his life in, attestation of facts or of opinions, is the 
 strongest proof of his believing them. And if the apostles and their 
 cotemporaries did believe the facts, in attestation of which they ex- 
 posed themselves to sufferings and death, this their belief or rather 
 knowledge, 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 of weight that the martyrs of the next age, 
 notwithstanding they were not eye witnesses of those facts, as were 
 the apostles and their cotemporaries, had, however, full opportunity 
 to inform themselves whether they were true or not, and gave equal 
 proof of their believing them to be true. 
 
 But enthusiasm, it is said, greatly weakens the evidence of testi- 
 mony even for facts, in matters relating to religion; some seem to 
 think it totally and absolutely destroys th?. evidence of testimony 
 
17^ Of the particular Evidence Part II. 
 
 upon this subject. And indeed the powers of enthusiasm, 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 suspicion of negli- 
 gence, aifirm that they saw and heard such things plainly with their 
 eyes and their ears, and are admitted to be in earnest — such testi- 
 mony 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 incredi- 
 bility in the things thus attested, or by contrary testimony. And in 
 an instance where one thought it was so overcome, it might be just 
 to consider, how far such evidence could be accounted for by enthu- 
 siasii; for it seems as it no other imaginable account were to be given 
 of it. But until such incredibility be shewn, or contrary testimony 
 produced, it cannot surely be expected, that so far fetched, so indi- 
 rect and wonderful an account of such testimony as that of enthusi- 
 asm must be; an account so strange, that the generality of mankind 
 can scarce be made to understand what is meant by it: it cannot, I 
 say, be expected that such account will be admitted of such evidence, 
 when there is this direct, easy and obvious account of it, that pe()ple 
 really saw and heard a thing not incredible, which they affirm sin- 
 cerely and with full assurance they did see and hear. Granting 
 then that enthusiasm is not (strictly speaking) an absurd but a possi- 
 ble account of such testimony, it is manifest that the very mention of 
 it goes upon the previous supposition that the things so attested are 
 incredible, and therefore need not be considered until they are shewn 
 to be so. Much less need it be considered after the contrary has 
 been proved. And I think it has been proved to full satisfaction, 
 that there is no incredibility in a revelation in general, or in such 
 an one as the Christian in particular. However, as religion is sup- 
 posed peculiarly liable to enthusiasm, it may just be observed, that 
 prejudices almost without number and without name, romance, affec- 
 tation, humor, a desire to engage attention or to surprize, the party 
 spirit, custom, little competitions, unaccountable likings and dislik- 
 ing — these influence men strongly in common matters. And as these 
 prejudices are often scarce known or reflected upon by the persons 
 themselves who are influenced by them, they are to be considered as 
 influences of a like kind to enthusiasm. Yet human testimony in 
 common matters is naturally and justly believed notwithstanding. 
 
 It is intimated farther, in a more refined way of observation, that 
 though it should be proved that the apostles and first Christians could 
 not, in some respects, be deceived themselves, and in other respects 
 cannot be thought to have intended to impose upon the world— yet it 
 will not follow that their general testimony is to be believed, though 
 truly handed down to us; because they might still in part, i. e. in 
 other respects, be deceived themselves, and in part also designedly 
 impose upon others; which, it is added, is a thing very credible, from 
 that mixture of real enthusiasm and real knavery to be met with in 
 the same characters. And I must confess I think the matter of fact, 
 contained in this observation upon mankind, is not to be denied: 
 and that somewhat very much a-kin to it, is often supposed in Scrip- 
 ture as a very common case, and most severely reproved. But it 
 were to have been expected, that persons capable of applying thi? 
 
Chap. VII. for Christianity. 179^ 
 
 observation as applied in the objection, might also frequently have 
 met with the like mixed character, in instances where religion was 
 quite out of the case. The thing plainly is, that mankind are nat- 
 urally endued with reason, or capacity of distinguishing between 
 truth and falsehood; and as naturally they are endued with veracity, 
 or a regard to truth in what they say: but from many occasions, 
 they are liable to be prejudiced and biassed and deceived themselves, 
 and capable of intending 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 uncommon 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 it is once invented and set agoing. And others, though they 
 would not propagate a lie, yet, which is a lower degree of falsehood^ 
 will let it pass without contradiction. But notwithstanding all this, 
 human testimony remains sf ill a natural ground of assent, and this 
 assent a natural principle of action. 
 
 It is objected farther, that however it has happened, the fact is, 
 that mankind have, in different ages, been strangely deluded with 
 pretences to miracles and wonders. But it is by no means to be 
 admitted that they have been oftener, or are at all more liable to be 
 deceived by these pretences than by others. 
 
 It is added, that there is a very considerable degree of historical 
 evidence for miracles, which are on all hands acknowledged to be 
 fabulous. But suppose there were even the like historical evidence 
 for these, to what there is for those alleged in proof of Christianity, 
 which yet is in no wise allowed, 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 con- 
 clude 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 con- 
 futed nor overbalanced? To argue that because there is, if there were, 
 like evidence from testimony for miracles acknowledged false, as for 
 those in attestation of Christianity, therefore the evidence in the lat- 
 ter 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 per- 
 jury, this confuted the testimony of the other. 
 
 Upon the whole then, the general observation that human crea- 
 tures are so liable to be deceived, from enthusiasm in religion, and 
 principles equivalent to enthusiam in common matters, and in both 
 from negligence; and that they are so capable of dishonestly endeav- 
 oring to deceive others — this does indeed weaken the evidence of tes- 
 timony in all cases, but does not destroy it in any. And these things 
 will appear, to different men, to weaken the evidence of testimony 
 in different degrees; in degrees proportionable to the observations 
 they have made, or the notions they have any way taken up. concern' 
 ing the weakness and negligence and dishonesty of mankind, or con- 
 cerning the powers of enthusiasm, and prejudices equivalent to it. 
 But it seems to me that people do not know what they say, who 
 iaffirm these things to destroy the evidence from testimony, which we 
 
180 Of the particular Evidence Bart II. 
 
 have oFthe 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 indirect influence in giving it in 
 such particular case. Until this be made out, the natural laws of 
 human actions require that testimony be admitted. It can never be 
 sufficient to overthrow direct historical evidence, indolently to say, 
 that there are so many principles from whence men are liable to he 
 deceived themselves, and disposed to deceive others, especially in 
 matters of religion, that one knows not ivhat to believe. And it is 
 surprizing persons can help reflecting, that this very manner of 
 speaking supposes they are not satisfied that there is nothing in the 
 evidence of which they speak thus; or that they can avoid observing, 
 ifthey domake this reflection, that it is on such a subject a very 
 material one.* 
 
 And over against all these objections is to he set the importance of 
 Christianity, as what must have engaged the attention of its first con- 
 verts, so as to 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 pre- 
 sumption in this degree is peculiar to the testimony we have been 
 considering. 
 
 in argument, assertions are nothing in themselves, and have an 
 air of positiveness which sornetimes 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 pioved. Kow the conclu- 
 sion from the foregoing observations* is, 1 think, beyond all doubt, 
 this — that unbelievers must be forced to admit the external evidence 
 for Christianity, i. e. the proof of miracles wrought to attest it, to be 
 of real weight and very considerable, though thej 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 
 consideration 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 cohtrary testimony, or things which they 
 think, whether with or without reason, to be incredible: But there 
 ?s no testimony contrary to that which we have been considering; 
 and it has been fully proved that there is no incredibility in Chris- 
 tianity in general, or in any part of it. 
 
 II, As to the evidence for Christianity from prophecy, I shall only 
 make some few general observations which are suggested by the anal- 
 ogy of nature, i e. by the acknowledged natural rules of judging in 
 common matters, concerning evidence of a like kind to this from 
 prophecy. 
 
 1. The obscurity or unintelligibleness of one part of a prophecy 
 
Chap. VII. for Christianity. 181 
 
 does not, in any degree, invalidate the proof for foresight, arising 
 •Vora the appearing completion of tliose other parts, which are under- 
 stood. For the case is evidently the same as if those parts, which 
 are not understood, were lost or written at all, or written in an un- 
 known tongue. Whether tliis 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 to exemplify it. However, 
 suppose a writing, partly in cypher, and partly in plain words at 
 length, and that in the part one understood there appeared mention 
 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 thing intended to be exemplified by it, 
 our not understanding the whole (the whole suppose of a sentence or 
 a paragraph) might sometimes occasion a doubt, whether one under- 
 stood the literal meaning of suph a partj but this comes under another 
 consideration. 
 
 For the same reason, though a man should be incapable, for want 
 of learning, or opportunities of enquiry, or from not having turned 
 his studies this way, even so much as -o 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 hu- 
 man 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 diflferent accounts of historians, the most 
 learned should not be able to make out to satisfaction, that such 
 parts of the prophetic history have been minutely and throughout 
 fulfilled' — yet a very strong proof of foresight may arise from that 
 gieneral completion of them which is made out; as much proof of 
 foresight, perhaps, as the Giver of prophecy intended should ever be 
 afforded by such parts of prophecy. 
 
 £, A long series of prophecy being applicable to sucli and such 
 events, is itself a proof that it was intended of them; as tl;ie rules 
 by which we naturally judge and determine in common cases par- 
 allel to this will shew. This observation I make in answer to the 
 common objection against the application of the prophecies, that con- 
 sidering each of them distinctly 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 resem- 
 blance to prophecy, with respect to the matter before us; the mytho- 
 logical, and the satirical, where the satire is to a certain degree con- 
 cealed. 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 applica- 
 tion, 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, merely from its being applicable to 
 them. And, agreeably to the last observation, he might be in a good 
 
192 Of th» particular Evidence 1*art 11. 
 
 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 present state 
 of the church, and to the political situations 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 pro- 
 portion as the general turn of it is capable of such application, 
 and to the number and variety of particular prophecies capable of 
 it. And, though in all just way of consideration, the appearing 
 completion of prophecies is to be allowed to be thus explan- 
 atory of, and to determine their meaning — yet it is to be remem- 
 bered farther, that the ancient Jews applied the prophecies to a 
 JVtessiah before his coming, in much the same manner as Chris- 
 tians do now; and that the primitive Christians interpreted the 
 prophecies 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, 
 
 aS. That the shewing even to a high probability, if that could be, 
 ihat the prophets thought of some other events in such and such 
 predictions, and not those at all which Christians allege to be com- 
 pletions of those predictions; or that such and such prophecies are 
 capable of being applied to other events, than those to which Chris- 
 tJ ins apply them — that this would not confute or destroy the force 
 of the argument from prophecy, even with regard to those very 
 insfances. 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 person to have compiled a book out of memoirs, which he received 
 from another of vastly superior knowiedgc in the subject of it, espe- 
 cially if it were a book full of great intricacies and difficulties — it 
 would in no wise follow that one knew the whole meaning of the 
 book, from knowing the whole meaning of the compiler; for the ori- 
 ginal memoirs, i. e. the author of them, miglit have, and there would 
 be no degree of p-esumption in many cases against supposing him to 
 have, some farther meaning thar^ the compiler saw. To say then that 
 the Scriptures, and the things contained in them, can have no other 
 or farther meaning tlian 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, i. e. that they 
 are not inspired; which is absurd, whilst the authority of these 
 books is under examination, i. e. until 3'ou have determined they are 
 of no divine authority at all Until this be determined, it must in 
 all reaso!) be suppo^f'd. n^t !nu''C'l tlt?v* they havo. fof tu!<i is takins: 
 
Chap. Vlf. for Christianity, 183 
 
 for granted that they are inspired, but that they may have some far- 
 ther 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 corresponding to prophecies, inter- 
 preted 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 diflierent sense was originally intended, as it would 
 have afi'orded if the prophets had not understood their predictions 
 in the sense it is supposed they did; because there is no presumption 
 of their sense of them being the whole sense of them. And it has 
 been already shewn, that the apparent completions of prophecy 
 must be allowed to be explanatory of its meaning. So that the 
 question is, whether a series of prophecy has been fulfilled, in a 
 natural and proper, i. e. in any real sense of the words of it. For 
 such completion is equally a proof of foresight more than human, 
 whether the prophets are or 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 pre- 
 dictions, it is another question how far they thoHght they did, and 
 in what sense they understood them. 
 
 Hence may be seen to how little purpose those persons busy 
 themselves, who endeavor to prove that the prophetic history is ap- 
 plicable to events of the age in which it was written, or of ages be 
 fore it. Indeed to have proved this before there was any appear- 
 ance of a farther completion of it, might have answered some pur- 
 pose; for it might have prevented the expectation of any such far- 
 ther completion. Thus, could Porphyry have shewn that some 
 principal parts of the book of Daniel, for instance, the seventh verse 
 of the seventh chapter, which the Christians interpreted of the latter 
 ages, was applicable to events which happened before or about the 
 age of Jlntiochiis EpipJianes — this might have prevented 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 discovery might have 
 been a stumbling block in the way of Christianity itself; consider- 
 ing 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 discovery, had tbere been any such,* 
 would bt of very little weight with reasonable men. Now, 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 empire. I mention this, not at all as intending to insin- 
 uate, that the division of this empire into ten parts, for it plainly 
 was divided into about that number, were, alone and by itself, of 
 any moment in verifying the prophetic history; but only a an exam- 
 ple of the thing I am speaking of. And thus upon the whole, the 
 
 • It ap\)ear3 that Porphyry did nothing worth mentioning in this way. For Jeromi 
 9n the place says, Duas posteriores bestias — in uno Macedonum regno ponit* And as 
 to the ten kings, Decern reges enumerat, qui fuerunt sjevissimi: ipsosque reges non 
 unius ponit regni, verbi gratia, Macedonia, Syrise, Asia et Egyptia; sed de diversis reg- 
 nis unvim efficit regnum ordinem* And in this way of iuterpretation anything may be 
 made of any thing- 
 
184 Of the partioular Evidence Part II. 
 
 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 fore- 
 sight; 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. . ' 
 
 There 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 integ- 
 rity and regard enough to truth, to attend to evidence which keeps 
 the mind in doubt, perhaps perplexity, and which is much of a dif- 
 ferent 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 ap- 
 pearance of somewhat of great weight in this matter, though he is 
 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 deci- 
 cisive air, there is nothing in it. The prejudices arising from that ab- 
 solute contempt and scorn with which this evidence is treated in the 
 \vorld, I do not mentioti. For what indeed can be said to persons', 
 who are weak enough in their understanding to think this any pre- 
 sumption agamst 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, endeavor to give some account of the gen- 
 eral argument for the truth of Christianity, consisting both of the 
 direct and circumstantial evidence, considered as making up one 
 argument. Indeed to state and examine tins arjjument fully, would 
 be a work much beyond the compass of this whole treatise; nor is 
 so much as a proper abridgment of it to be ex^jccted here Yet the 
 present suhject requires to have some brief account of it given. 
 For it is the kind of evidence, upon which most questions of diffi- 
 culty in common practice 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 con- 
 sideration. And 1 choose to do it also: First, because it seems to 
 be of the greatest importance, and not duly attended to by every 
 one, that the proof of revelation is, not some direct and express 
 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 separately, 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 respects to each 
 other, and united into one vievv. And in the next place, because it 
 seems to me, that the matters of fact here set down, which are 
 acknowledged 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 dis- 
 tinctly, and then with attention consider them together, instead of 
 'hat cursory thought of them to which we are familiarized. For 
 
 'ng familiarized to the cursory thought of things, as realljr hinders 
 
Chap- VII. fur Christianity. 185 
 
 the weight of them from heingseen, as from having its due influence 
 upon practice. 
 
 The tiling asserted, and the truth of which is to be inquired into, 
 is this, thiit 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 him- 
 self and his moral government over the world, implying a future 
 state of rewards and punishments; i. e. hath revealed the system of 
 natural religion; for natural religion may be externally* revealed by 
 God, as the ignorant may be taught it by mankind their fellow crea- 
 tures — that God, I say, has given us the evidence of revelation, as 
 well as the evidence of reason, to ascertain this moral system; to- 
 gether with an account of a particular dispensation of Providence, 
 which reason could no way have discovered, and a particular insti- 
 tution ol religion founded on it, for the recovery of mankind 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 
 precepts come under the same notion. And the general design of 
 •Scripture, which contains in it this revelation, 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 essentially 
 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 cre- 
 ation 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, com- 
 mands, promises and threatenings, 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 distinguish him from the 
 idols of the nations, which are either imaginary beings, i. e. no 
 beings at all, or else part of that creation, the historical relatioji 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 ac- 
 count of our Saviour's preexistence, and that all thirigs were made 
 hy him, and without him was not any thing made that was made;-f 
 agreeably to the doctrine of St. Pa^d, that God created all things by 
 Jesus Christy This beng 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 condition of religion and its professors, during the continuance 
 of that apostacy from God, and state of wickedness, 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 distraction, and cannot be supposed to concern itself 
 with foretelling at what time Rovie or P.ihylon or Greece, or any 
 
 * Page 1 21, &o. t Jehn i. 3. i Eph. iii. 9. 
 
 z 
 
186 Of the particular Evidence Part If. 
 
 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 fust transgression, 
 and during the whole interval of the world's continuing in its pres- 
 ent state, to a certain future period, spoken of both in the Old and 
 New Testament, very distinctly and in great variety of expression; 
 T/te times of the restitution of all things:* when the mystery of 
 God shall be finished., as he hath declared to his servants the proph- 
 ets:i when the Ood of heaven shall set up a kingdom- which shall 
 never he destroyed: and the kingdom shall not be left to other peo- 
 ple, \. as it is represented to be during this apostacy, 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 ^] 
 
 Upon this general view of the Scripture, 1 would remark how great 
 a length of time the whole relation 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 v/orld, including the time 
 when it was formed, all contained in the very first book, and evi- 
 dently written in a rude and unlearned age; and in subsequent 
 books, the various common and prophetic history, and the particular 
 dispensation of Christianity. Now all this together gives the lar- 
 gest 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 it is a thing which de- 
 serves, I think, to be mentioned, that whereas some imagine the sup- 
 posed doubtfulness of the evidence for revelation implies a positive 
 argument 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 an age of knowledge and liberty, be 
 confuted, or shewn to have nothing in it, to the satisfaction of rea- 
 sonable 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 shewn to be so; and 
 this. I think, is scarce pretended to be shewn but upon principles 
 and in ways of arguing, which have been clearly obviated.** Nor 
 does it at all appear, that any set of men who believe natural reli- 
 gion, are of the opinion that Christianity has been thus confuted. 
 But t© proceed: 
 
 Together witlj 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 
 
 ♦ Acts iii. 21. I Rev. x 7. \ Dan. ii 44. § Dan. vii. 2J, 
 11 Rev. xxii= 5. f Dap. Tti. 27, •* Chap. ii. iii. 8co. 
 
 I 
 
Chap. VII. for Christianity. 187 
 
 four thousand years. It contains an account of God's making; a cov- 
 enant 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 possession, of a particular country; assuring them of the great- 
 est national prosperity in it, if they would worship him, in opposition 
 to the idols which the rest of tiie world worshipped, and obey his 
 commands, and thieatening them with unexampled punishments, if 
 they disobeyed him, and fell into the general idolatry; insomuch that 
 this one nation should continue to be the observation and wonder of 
 all the world. It declares particularly, that God would scatter 
 them among all people, from one end of the earth unto the other; but 
 that ichen they should return unto the Lord their God, he ivould have 
 compassion upon them, and "gather them from all the nations whither 
 he had scattered them; that Israel should he saved in the Lord with 
 an everlasting salvation, and not be ashamed or confounded xvorld 
 ivithout end. And as some of these promises are conditional, others 
 areas absolute as any thing can be expressed; that tiie time should 
 come when the people should be all righteous, and inherit the land 
 forever; tha*" 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 up 
 out of their land; that the seed of Israel should not cease from being 
 a nation for ever.* It foretells, that God would raise them up a par- 
 ticular person, in whom all his promises should finally be fulfilled; the 
 Messiah, who should be in an 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 expec- 
 tation of his coming at such a particular time, before any one appear- 
 ed claiming to be that person, and when there was no ground for 
 such an expectation, but from the prophecies; which expectation 
 therefore must in all reason be presumed to be explanatory i>f those 
 prophecies, if there were any doubt about their meaning. It seems 
 moreover to foretell, that this person should be rejected by that na- 
 tion, to whom he had been so long promised, and though he was so 
 much desired by them.f And it expressly foretells, that he should 
 be the Saviour of the Gentiles; and even that the completion of the 
 scheme, contained in this book, and tJien begun, and in its progress, 
 should be somewhat so great, that, in comparison with it, the resto- 
 ration of the Jews alone would be but of small account. It is a 
 light thing that thou shouldestbe my servant to raise up the tribes of 
 Jacob, and to restore 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 unto it for out 
 
 * Deut. xxvlil ei. Chap, xxx 2; 3. Isai. xly. 17. Chap. Ix. 21. Jer. xxx. 11 
 Chap, xlvi 28 Amos ix. 15 Jer xxxi 36. 
 j Isai viii. 14, 15. Chap, xlix 5. Chap. liii. Mai. I. 10, 11, atifl Chap iii. 
 
188 Of the particular Evidence Part II. 
 
 of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the Lord from Jeru- 
 salem. 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 Mes- 
 siah was expected, a person rose up, in this nation, claiming to be 
 that Messiah, to be the person whom all the prophecies referred to, 
 and in whom they should center; that he spent some years in a con- 
 tinued course of miraculous works, and endued his immediate disci- 
 ples 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 converts 
 in the remotest countries, and settled and established his religion iu 
 the world, to the end of which the Scripture professes to give a pro- 
 phetic 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 an 
 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 reve- 
 lation here related was real or a fiction? And instead of a direct 
 answer, suppose him, all at once, to be told the following confest 
 facts, and then to unite them into one view. 
 
 Let him first be told in how great a degree the profession and es- 
 tablishment of natural religion, the belief that there is one God to 
 be worshipped, that virtue is his law, and that mankind shall be re- 
 warded and punished hereafter, as they obey and disobey it here; in 
 how very great a degree, I say, the profession and establishment of 
 this moral system in the world is owing to the revelation, whether 
 real or supposed, contained in this book; the establishment of tliis 
 moral system, even in those countries which do not acknowledge 
 the proper authority of the Scripture. t l^et him be told also what 
 number of nations do acknowledge its proper authority. Let him 
 then take in the consideration of what importance religion is to man- 
 kind. And upon these things he mights 1 think, truly observe, that 
 this supposed revelation's obtaininir and being received 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 
 recommended to our consideration, demands, as if by a voice from 
 heaven, to have its claims n;ost seriously examined into; and that, 
 before such eiamination, to treat it with any kind of scoffing and 
 ridicule, is an oSence against natural piety. But it is to be remem- 
 bered, that how much soever the establishment of natural religion in 
 the world is owing to the scripture revelation, that this dues not de- 
 stroy the proof of religion from reason, any more thnn the proof of 
 Euclid's Elements if? destroyed by a man's knowing or thinking that 
 
 *Isai. xlix C. Chap ii- Chap xi. Chap. hi. 7. M;il. i 11. To which must be ad- 
 tied the otiier prophecies of the like kipcl, several in the New Testament, and very 
 many in the Giil: .vhlch (ks-ir'be what shall he the eofnrjl'^f.ion «r the reY^;:xled plan of 
 ProvWquce, t Fau'^^; 1 0-2. .^ 
 
Chap. VII. for Christianity. 189 
 
 he should never have seen the truth of the several propositions con-, 
 tained 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, in- 
 formed of the acknowledged antiquity 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 human creatures is no 
 way contradicted, but is really confirmed, by the natural and civil 
 history of the world, collected from common historians, from the 
 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 are speaking of be told 
 in the next place that this general history, as it is not contradicted 
 but is confirmed by profane history as much as there would be reason 
 to expect, upon supposition of its truth—so there is nothing in the 
 whole history itself, to give any reasonable ground of suspicion of 
 its not being, in the general, a faithful and literally true genealogy 
 of men, and series of things. I speak here only of the common 
 scripture history, or of the course of ordinary events related in it, 
 as distinguished from miracles and from the prophetic history. In 
 all the scripture narrations of this kind, following events arise out 
 of foregoing ones, as in all other histories. There appears nothing 
 related as done in any age, not conformable to the manners of that 
 age; nothing in the account of a succeeding age which, one would 
 say, could not be true, or was improbable, from the account of things 
 in the preceding one. There is nothing in the characters which 
 would raise a thought of their being feigned; but all 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 per- 
 sons called by such and such names lived, do not carry the face of 
 fiction, perhaps do carry some presumption of veracity: and all una- 
 dorned narratives, which have nothing to surprixe, may be thought 
 to carry somewhat of the like presumption too. And the domestic 
 and the political history is plainly credible. There may be incidents 
 in Scripture, which taken alone in the naked way they are told, mav 
 appear strange, especially to persons of other manners, temper, edt.;- 
 cation; but there are also incidents of undoubted truth, in many or 
 most persons' lives, which, in the same circumstances, would appear 
 to be full as strange. There may be mistakes of trat)scribers, there 
 may be other real or seeming mistakes not easy to be particularly 
 accounted for; but there are certainly no more things of this kind 
 in the Scripture, than what were to have been expected in books of 
 such antiquity, and nothing in any wise sufficient 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 appearan- 
 ces of reality and truth in its whole contexture, is surely a very 
 remarkable circumstance in its favor. And as all this is applicable 
 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 writing of the same times, and confirming the truth 
 
l90 Of the particular Evidence Part II 
 
 of customs and events which are incidentally as well as more pur* 
 posely mentioned in it. And this credibility of the common scrip- 
 ture history, gives some credibility to its miraculous history; espe- 
 cially as this is interwoven with the common, so as that they imply 
 each other, and both together make up one relation. 
 
 Let it then be more particularly observed to this person, that it is 
 an acknowledged matter of fact, which is indeed implied in the fore- 
 going observation, that there was such a nation as the Jews, of the 
 greatest antiquity, whose government and general polity was foun- 
 ded on the law here related to be given them by Moses as from heaven; 
 that natural religion, though with rites additional, yet no way con» 
 trary to it, was their established religion, which cannot be said of 
 the Gentile world; and that their very being as a nation depended 
 tipon their acknowledgement of one God, the God of the universe. 
 For, suppose in their captivity in Babyion, they had gone over to the 
 religion of their conquerors, there would have remained no bond of 
 union 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 dissolution 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 idola- 
 try, as rendered them, in fact, the peculiar people of God. And 
 this so remarkable an establishment and preservation of natural reli- 
 gion amongst them, seems to add some peculiar credibility to the his- 
 torical evidence for the miracles of Moses and the prophets: because 
 these miracles are a full satisfactory account of this event, which 
 plainly wants to be accounted for, and cannot otherwise. 
 
 Let this person, supposed wholly ignorant of history, be acquaint- 
 ed farther, that one claiming to be the Messiah, of Jewish extrac 
 tion, rose up at the time when this nation, from the prophecies above 
 mentioned, expected the Messiah; that he was rejected, 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 promised Messiah, by 
 great numbers among the Gentiles, agreeably to the prophecies of 
 Scripture, yet not upon the evidence of prophecy, but of mirao'les,* 
 of which miracles wc have also strong historical evidence; (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, approving 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 
 «>vere destroyed, in a very remarkable manner, and the people carried 
 
 • F.tg-; 175, Sic - Page 1 79, fee. 
 
Chap. VII. for Christianity, 191 
 
 away captive and dispersed through the most distant countries, in 
 which state of dispersion they have remained fifteen hundred yearsj 
 and that they remain a numerous people, united amongst 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 byword, among all nations whither the Lord shall lead 
 thee.* 
 
 The appearance of a standing miracle, in the Jews remaining a 
 distinct people in their dispersion, and the confirmation which this 
 event appears to give to the truth of revelation, may be thought to 
 be answered by their religion's forbidding them intermarriages with 
 those of any other, and prescribing them a great many peculiarities 
 in their food, by which they are debarred from the means of incor- 
 porating with the people in whose countries they live. This is n»t, 
 I think, a satisfactory account of that which it pretends to account 
 for. But what does it pretend to account for.^ The correspondence 
 between this event and the prophecies; or the coincidence of both,, 
 with a long dispensation of Providence of a peculiar nature, towards 
 that people formerly.'' No. It is only the event itself which is otFered 
 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 correspondence and coincidence 
 may be so, though the event itself be supposed not. Thus the con- 
 currence of our Saviour's being born at Bethlehem, with a long fore- 
 going series of prophecy and other coincidences, is doubtless mirac- 
 ulous, the series of prophecy, and other coincidences, and the event 
 being admitted; though the event itself, his birth at that place, ap- 
 pears to have been brought about in a natural way; of which, how- 
 ever, no one can be certain. 
 
 And as several of these events seem in some degree expressly to 
 have verified the prophetic history already, so likewise they may be 
 V onsidered farther as having a peculiar aspect towards the full com- 
 pletion of it, as affording some presumption that the whole of it shall, 
 one time or other, be fulfilled. Thus, that the Jews have been so 
 wonderfully preserved in their long and wide dispersion, which is 
 indeed the direct fulfilling of some prophecies, but is now mentioned 
 only as looking forward to somewhat yet to come; that natural reli- 
 gion came forth from Judea, and spread in the degree it has done 
 over the world, before lost in idolatry, which together with some 
 other things have distinguished 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 acknowl- 
 edgment that Jesus was the promised Messiah; things of this kind 
 naturally turn the thoughts of serious men towards the full comple- 
 tion of the prophetic history, concerning the final restoration of that 
 people, concerning the establishment of the everlasting kingdom 
 among them, the kingdom of the Messiah, and the future state of the 
 
 • Deut jcxviii, 37. 
 
l92 Of the particular Evidence Part II. 
 
 world under this sacred government. Such circumstances and events 
 compared with these prophecies, though no completions 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 further, give it some additional cred- 
 ibility, have the appearance of being somewhat in order to the full 
 completion 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 history 
 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 deter- 
 minately conclusive. 
 
 Suppose now a person quite ignorant of history, fust to recollect 
 the passages abovementioned out of Scripture, without knowing but 
 that the whole was a late fiction, then to be informed of ti:e corres- 
 pondent facts now mentioned, and to unite thenii all into one view; 
 that the profession and establishment of natural religion in the world 
 is greatly owing, in different ways, to this book, and the supposed 
 revelation which it contains: that it is acknowledged to be of the 
 earliest antiquity; that its chronology and common Iiistory are en- 
 tirely credible; that this ancient nation, the Jeivs^ of whom it chiefly 
 treats, appear to have been in fact the people of God in a distin- 
 guished sense; that, as there was a national expectation amongst 
 them, raised from the prophecies, of a Messiah to appear at such a 
 time, so one at this time appeared claiming 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 greatest 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 nation dis- 
 persed over the face of the earth; that notwithstanding this, they 
 have' remained a distinct numerous people for so many centuries, 
 even to this day, which not only appears to be the express comple- 
 tion 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 nation may yet be fulfilled; and to these acknowledged 
 truths, let the person we have been supposing add, as I think he 
 ought, whether every one will allow it or not, the obvious appear- 
 ances which there are, of the state of the world, in other respects 
 besides what relates to the Jews, and of the Christian Church, hav- 
 ing so long answered and still answering to the prophetic history;— 
 suppose, I say, these facts set over against the things before men- 
 tioned out of the Scripture, and seriously compare<l with them— 
 the joint view of both together must, I think, appear of very great 
 weight to a considerate reasonable person; of much greater indeed, 
 upon having them first laid before him. than is easy tor us who are 
 so familiarized to them to conceive, without some particular atten- 
 tion for tiiat purpose. 
 
"hap. VIL for CltristianUi/. 19S 
 
 All these thinj^s, and the several particulars contained under them, 
 require to be distinctly and most thorouj>hly 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 confest historical 
 evidence for miracles, and the many obvious appearing completions 
 of prophec}', together with the collateral things* here mentioned, 
 and there are several others of the like sort; that all this together, 
 which being fact must be acknowledged by unbelievers, amounts to 
 real evidence of somewhat more than human in this matter; evidence 
 much mote important than careless men, who have been accustomed 
 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; is not sufficient to convince them that such miracles 
 ivere really wrought, they cannot deny that there is such historical 
 evidence, it being a known matter of fact that there is. They ma^ 
 say. the conformity between the prophecies and events is by acci- 
 dent: but there are many instances in which such conformity itself 
 cannot be denied. They may say, with regard to such kind of col- 
 lateral things as those above-mentioned, that any odd accidental 
 events, without meaning, will have a meaning found in them by fan- 
 ciful people; and that such as are fanciful in any one certain way, 
 \vill make out a thousand coincidences which seem to favor their 
 peculiar follies. Men, I say, may talk thus; but no one who is seri- 
 ous can possibly tiiink these things to be nothing, if he considers the. 
 importance of collateral things, and even of lesser circumstances, in 
 the evidence of probability, as distinguished in nature from the evi- 
 dence of demonstration. In many cases indeed it seems to require 
 the truest judgment, to determine with exactness the weight of cir- 
 cumstantial evidence; but it is very often altogether as convincing, 
 as that which is the most express and direct. 
 
 This general view of the evidence for Christianity, considered as 
 making one argument, may also serve to recommend to serious per- 
 sons, to set dovv'n every thing which they think may be of any real 
 weight at all in proof of it, and particularly the many seeming com- 
 pletions of prophecy; and ttiey will find that, judging by the natural 
 rules by which we judge of probable evidence in common matters, 
 tliey amount to a much higher degree of proof, upon such a joint re- 
 view, than could be supposed upon considering them separately at 
 different times, how strong soever the proof might before appear to 
 them upon such separate views of it. For probable 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 remembered, not in order to in- 
 fluence his judgment, but his practice, that a mistake on one side 
 may be, in its consequences, much more dangerous than a mistake 
 
 • AH the particular things mentioned in this chapter, not reducible to the h%&d of 
 certain miracles, or determinate cornTiletions of TirophecT, See p. 17^ iTi^ 
 A f2 
 
l94 0/ the particular Evidence. S[c. Part II, 
 
 on the other. And what course is most safe, and what most danger- 
 ous, is a consideration thought very material, when we deliberate, pot 
 concerning events, but concerning conduct in our temporal affairs. 
 To be influenced by this consideration in our judgment, 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 deliberations 
 concerning conduct; there is nothing which reason more re- 
 quires to be taken into the account, 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 consequence, and taking the other 
 might be attended with the greatest, must appear to unprejudiced 
 reason of the highest moment towards determining how we are to 
 act. But the truth of our religion, like the truth of common mat- 
 ters, is to be judged of by all the evidence taken together. And 
 unless the whole series of things which may be alleged m this argu- 
 ment, and every particular thing in it, can reasonably be supposed 
 to have been by accident, (for here the stress of the argument for 
 Christianity 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 acknowledged 
 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 dis- 
 puted 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 shew, 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 shew, 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 pre- 
 sumption 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, shews that 
 this evidence is such, as from the nature of it cannot be destroyed, 
 though it should be lessened. 
 
 i 
 
Chap. VIII. Objections against the Analogy ^ ^c 195 
 
 CHAP. VIIL 
 
 Of the Objections which may be made against arguing from, the An- 
 alogy of JVature to Religion* 
 
 IF every one would consider, with such attention as they are 
 bound even in point of morality to consider, what theyjudge 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; since this treatise, in common with most others, 
 lies open to objections which may appear very material to thought- 
 ful men at first sight; and, besides that, seems peculiarly liable to 
 the objections of such as can judge without thinking, and of such as 
 can censure without judging — it may hot 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 say- 
 ing that there are the same in natural 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 con- 
 vincing men of the obligations of religion, to shew them that they 
 have as little reason 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 both, to which the system of reli- 
 gion lies open, to shew 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 par- 
 ticular 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 answer to such objec- 
 tions; 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 
 unsatisfied state; and that it must be unaccountable ignorance of 
 mankind; to imagine they will be prevailed with to forego their pres- 
 ent interests and pleasures, from regard to religion, upon doubtful 
 evidence." 
 
 Now, as plausible as this way of talking may appear, that appear- 
 ance will be found in a great measure owing to half views, which 
 shew but part of an object, yet shew 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 a, A 
 at once clearly see through the perplexities in which subjects them- 
 selves are involved, and which are heightened bv the deficiencies and 
 
%96 ^Objections against the Analogy Part II. 
 
 the abuse oP words. To this latter sort of persons, the following 
 reply to each part of this objection severally may be of some assist- 
 ance, as it may also tend a little to stop and silence others. 
 
 First, the thing wanted, i. e. what men require, is to have all dif- 
 ficulties cleared. And this is, or at least for any thing we know to 
 the contrary it may be, the same as requiring to comprehend the 
 Divine Nature, and the whole plan of Providence, from everlasting 
 to everlasting. But it hath always been allowed to argue from what 
 is acknowledged 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 deduction and inference, in matters of conduct, which we 
 are continually reduced to the necessity of doing. Indeed the epi- 
 thet 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 ktiowledge in 
 the cure of diseases as even the most eminent have? To act upon 
 conjecture and guess, where the life of man is concerned? Undoubt- 
 edly 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 common, to urge cbjec- 
 tions against revelation which are of equal weight against natural 
 religion; and those who do this, if they are not confused themse^ves, 
 deal unfairly with others, in making it seem that they are arguing 
 only against revelation, or particular doctrines of it, when in realitj' 
 they are arguing against moral providence — it is a thing of conse- • 
 quence to show that such objections are as much levelled against nat- 
 ural religion, as against revealed. And objections, which aie equally 
 applicable to both, are properly speaking answered, by its being 
 shown that they are so, provided the former he admitted to be true. 
 And without taking in the consideration how distinctly this is admit- 
 ted, it is plainly very material to observe, that as the things objected 
 against in natural religion, are of the same kind with what is certain 
 matter of experience in the course of Providence, and in the informa- 
 tion which (io<! aflbrds us concerning our temporal interest under 
 his government — so the objections against tlie system of Christianity 
 and the evidence of it, are of the very same kind with those which 
 are made against the system and evicience of natural religion. How- 
 ever, the reader upon review may see, that niost of the analogies 
 insisted upon, even in the latter part of this treatise, do not necessa- 
 rily require to have more taken for granted than is in the former; 
 that there is an Author of nature, or natural Governor of the world; 
 and Christianity is vindicated, not from its analogy to natural reli- 
 gion, but chlefiy frem its analogy to the experienced constitution of 
 nature. 
 
 Secondly, religion is a practical thing, and consists in such a de- 
 terminate course of life, as being what there is reason to think is 
 commanded by t!ie Author of nature, and will upon the whole be our 
 happiness under his government. Now if men can 'oe convinced that 
 they have the like reason to believe this, as to believe that taking- 
 care of their temporal aHairs will be to their advantage—such con- 
 viction canned b'Jt he an srcutnent to them for the practice of reli- 
 
Chap. VII f. of Mature to Religion. W 
 
 gion. And if there be really any reason for believing one of these, 
 and endeavoring to preserve life, and secure ourselves the necessa- 
 ries and conveniences of it— then there is reason also for believing^ 
 the other, and endeavoring to secure the interest it proposes to us. 
 And if the interest which religion proposes to us be infinitely greater 
 than our whole temporal interest, then there must be proportionabiy 
 greater reason for endeavoring to secure one than the other; since 
 by the supposition, the probability of our securing one, is equal tfv 
 the probability of our securing the other. This seems plainly unans- 
 werable, and has a tendency to influence fair minds, who consider 
 what our condition really is, or upon what evidence we are naturally 
 appointed to act; and who are disposed to acquiesce in the term.s 
 upon which we live, and attend to and follow that practical instruc- 
 tion, whatever it be, which is afforded us. 
 
 But the chief and proper force of the argument referred to in the 
 objection lies in another place. For, it is said that the proof of reli- 
 gion is involved in such inextricable difficulties as to render it doubt- 
 ful, and that it cannot be supposed that if it were true it would be 
 left upon doubtful evidence. Here then, over and above the force of 
 each particular difficulty or objection, these difficulties and objec- 
 tions, taken together, are turned into a positive argument against 
 the truth of religion; which argument would stand thus. If reli- 
 gion were true it would not be left doubtful, and open to objections 
 to the degree in which it is; therefore that it is thus left, not only 
 renders the evidence of it weak, and lessens its force in proportion 
 to th.e weight of such objections; but also shews it to be false, or is a 
 general presumption of its being so. Now -the observation, that 
 from the natural constitution and course of things, we must in our 
 temporal concerns, almost continually, and in matters of great con- 
 sequence, act upon evidence of a like kind and degree to the evi- 
 dence of religion, is an answer to this argument; because it shews 
 that it is according to the conduct and character of the Author of 
 nature to appoint we should act upon evidence like that to 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 partic- 
 ular 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 reliijion and for our 
 temporal conduct, the answer is equally jtist and conclusive, whether 
 the parallel be made out by shewing 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 char- 
 acter of God, but to shew the obligations of men; it is not to justify 
 his providence, but to shew 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 immedi- 
 diately tend to make out the latter, which do not appear by any im- 
 mediate 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 dispensations of Providence against objections, any 
 farther than to shew that the things objected against may, for aught 
 we know, be consistent with justice and goodness. Suppose then, 
 
198 Objections against the Analogy Paut IL 
 
 that there are things in the system of this world, and plan of Provi- 
 dence relating to it, which taken alone would be unjust — yet it has 
 been shewn 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 justice, but instances of it. Indeed it has 
 been shewn, 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 religion makes its vindication necessary Hence it ap- 
 pears, 2dly, that objections against the divine justice and goodness 
 are not endeavored to be removed, by shewing that the like objec- 
 tions, allowed to be really conclusive, lie against natural providencej 
 but those objections being supposed and shewn not to be conclusive, 
 the things objected against, considered as matters of fact, are farther 
 shewn to be credible from their conformity to the constitution of na- 
 ture; for instance, that God will reward and'punish men for their 
 actions hereafter, from the observation that he does reward and pun- 
 ish them for their actions here. And this I apprehend is of weight. 
 And I add, Sdly, 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 instance again, the 
 fact last mentioned, that God will reward and punish men for their 
 actions hereafter — the observation that his present method of gov- 
 ernment is by rewards and punishments, shews that future fact not 
 to be incredible; whatever objections men may think they have 
 against it, as unjust or unmerciful, according to their notions of jus- 
 tice and mercy, or as improbable from their belief of necessity. I 
 say, as improbable; for it is evident no objection against it, as unjust, 
 can be urged from necessity, since this notion as much destroys injus- 
 tice as it does justice. Then 4thly, though objections against the 
 reasonableness of the system of religion, cannot indeed be answered 
 without entering into consideration of its reasonableness, yet objec- 
 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 shewn without consideration of 
 their reasonableness. Nor is it necessary, though in some cases and 
 respects it is highly useful and proper, yet it is not necessary, to give 
 a proof of the reasonableness of every precept enjoined us, and of 
 every particular dispensation of Providence which conies into the 
 system of religion, indeed the more thoroughly a person of a right 
 disposition is convinced of the perfection or the divine nature and 
 conduct, the farther he will advance towards that perfection of reli- 
 gion which St John* speaks of. But the general obligations of reli- 
 2;ion are fully made out, by proving the reasonableness of the prac- 
 tice of it. And that the practice of religion is reasonable may be 
 shewn, though no more couid be proved than that the system of it 
 may be so, for aught we know to tlie contrary; and even without en- 
 tering into the distj'ict consideration of this. And from hence, 
 
Chap. VIIL 0/ J^aiure to Religion-. 19? 
 
 5thly, it is easy to see, that though the analogy of nature is not an 
 immediate answer to objections 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 
 8uch objections, which is to shew that the things objected against are 
 incredible. 
 
 Fourthly, it is most readily acknowledged that the foregoing trea- 
 tise 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 specula- 
 tion would be found involved in great diflBculties, and were it deter- 
 mined upon the evidence of reason, as nature has determined it to 
 our hands, that life is to be preserved — yet siill the rules which God 
 has been pleased to afford us, for escaping the miseries of it and ob- 
 taing its satisfactions, the rules, ior instance, of preserving health, 
 and recovering it when lost, are not only fallible and precarious, but 
 very far from being exact. Nor are we informed by nature in future 
 contingencies and accidents, 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 suceesSf 
 is highly doubtful. And what will be tRe success of them in the 
 proper sense of the word, i. e. what happiness or enjoyment wt. 
 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 interests of it, 
 upon account of this doubtfulness. The evidence of religion then 
 being admitted real, those who object against it as not satisfactory, 
 i. e. 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 nature of religion. For, religion presupposes, in all those who 
 will embrace it, a certain degree of integrity 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 presup- 
 poses he understands the language in which you speak, or as warning 
 a man of any danger presupposes that he hath such a regard to him- 
 self as that he will endeavor to avoid it. And therefore the question 
 is not at all, whether 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 purposes of probation, how far soever it is from being satis- 
 factory as to the purposes of curiosity, or any other; and indeed it 
 it answers the purposes of the former in several respects, which it 
 would not do if it were as overbearing as is required. One might 
 add farther, that whether the motives or the evidence for any course 
 of action be satisfactory, meaning here by that word, what satisfies 
 a man, that such a course of action will in event be for his good — 
 
2U*0 Objections ag'aimt the Jinulogy Part II. 
 
 this iiet'il never be, and I think strictly speaking never is, the prac- 
 tical tjuestiou in cummon matters. But the practical question in all 
 cases is, whether the evidence for a course of action be such as, 
 taking in all ciicumstances, makes the faculty within us which is the 
 guide and judge of conduct,* determine that course of action to be 
 prudent. Indeed satibfaction that it will be for our interest or hap- 
 piness, abundantl V determines an action to be prudent; but evidence 
 almost inlinitcly lower than this determines actions to be so too, 
 even in the conduct of every da}'. 
 
 Fifthly, as to the objection concerning the influence which this ar- 
 gumenr. or any part of it, may or may not be expected to have upoii 
 men — I observe as above, that religion being intended for a trial and 
 exercise of the morality of every person's character who is a subject 
 of it, and there being, as \ have shewn, such evidence for it as is suf- 
 ticient in reason to inSuence men to embrace it — to object that it is 
 not to be imagined mankind will be influenced by such evidence, is 
 Mothing to the purpose of the forei';oing treatise. For the purpose of 
 it is not to inquire what sort of creatures mankind are, but what the 
 light and knowledge which is afforded them requires they should be; 
 to shew how in reason they ough; to behave, not how in fact they 
 will behave. This depends upon themselves, and is their own con- 
 cern, the personal concern of each man in particular. And how 
 iittle regard the generalitj^have to it, experience indeed does too 
 fully shew. But religion, considered as a probation, lias had itsend 
 upon all pensons, to whom it has been proposed with evidence suffi- 
 cient in reason to influence their practice: for by this means they 
 have been put into a state of probation, let them behave as they v.ill 
 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 carrying on, not only with regard to those who will, 
 but likewise with regard to thosc^who will not. be influenced by it. 
 However, lastly, the objection here referred to allows the things in- 
 sisted upon in this treatise to be of some weight; and if so, it may 
 be hoped 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, thouglj 
 not in degree, to lay it before men, as there would be if it were like- 
 ly to have a greater influence. 
 
 And farther, I desiii- 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 m}' own; anl have omitted what 
 I think L I.e. arid .-f the utmost importance, because by others thought 
 uninteiligihie, or not true. Thus I have argued upon the principles 
 of the fatalists, which I do i;ot believe; and have omitted a thing of 
 the utmost iu>portance which I do believe, the moral fitness and un- 
 fif'iessof :u;Uons, prior to all will whatever: which 1 apprehend as 
 certainly \u ii^it:mn-\t the divine conduct, as speculative truth and 
 falsehood . ; Iv determine the divine judgment. Indeed the 
 
 * See Dissertation II. 
 ■j-By arguiTift i.^ciples of otliers, the reader will observe is meant not 
 
 proving ;i'. - . licinciplcs. but nol withstanding them Thus religion is 
 
 pi*3ve«l, n( •*■ •uc!;ssity, whjcli is absurd, but not\yith5tandiDg or eveu 
 
 though tha -, :ted 10 be true. 
 
Chap. VIII. of JSluture to Religion. aOl 
 
 principle of liberty and that of moral fitness so force themselves 
 upon the mind, that moralists, the ancients as well as moderns, have 
 formed their language upon it. And probably it may appear in mine) 
 though 1 have endeavored to avoid it, and in order to avoid it, have 
 sometimes been obliged to express myself in a manner which will 
 appear strange to such asdo not observe the reason for it; but the gaa- 
 eral argument here pursued does not at all suppose or proceed upon 
 these principles. Now, these two abstract principles of liberty and 
 moral fitness being omitted, religion can be considered in no other 
 view than merely as a question o ffact; and in this view it is here con- 
 sidered. It is obvious that Christianity, and the proof of it, are 
 both historical. And even natural religion is, properly, a matter of 
 fact; for, that there is a righteous Governor of the world, is se; and 
 this proposition contains the general system of natural religion. 
 But then, several abstract truths, and in particular those two princi- 
 ples, are usually taken into consideration in the proof of it, whereas 
 it is here treated of only as a matter of fact. To explain this; 
 that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones, is an 
 abstract truth; but that they appear so to our mind, is only a matter 
 of fact. And this last must have 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 couid certainly depend upon our faculties of under- 
 standing for the knowledge of it in any case. So likewise that there 
 is, in the nature of things, an original standard of right and wrong ia 
 actions, independent upon all will, but which unalterably determines 
 the will of God to exercise that moral government over the world 
 which religion teaches, i. e. finally and upon the whole to reward and 
 punish men respectively as they act right or wrong — this assertion 
 contains an abstract truth, as well as matter of fact. But suppose 
 in th6 present state every man, without exception, was rewarded 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 abstract truth, but only a 
 matter of fact. And though this fact were acknowledged by everjr 
 one, yet the very same difficulties might be raised as are now, con* 
 cerning the abstract questions of liberty and moral fitness; and we 
 should have a proof, even the certain one of experience, that the gov- 
 ernment of the world was perfectly moral, without taking in the 
 consideration of those questions; and this proof would remain, ia 
 ■what way soever they were determined. And thus, God having given 
 mankind a moral faculty, the object of which is actions, and which 
 naturally approves some actions as right and of good desert, and 
 condemns others as wrong and of ill desert; that he will finally and 
 upon the whole, reward the former and punish the latter, is not aa 
 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, wvich is greatly strengthened 
 by the general analogy of nature; a proof easily cavilled at, easilj 
 shewn not to be demonstrative, for it is not offered as such: but iiwi* 
 B 1 
 
20i5 Ob'ections against the Analogy, Sfc. Part II. 
 
 possible, I think, to be evaded or answered. And thus the obliga- 
 tions of religion are made out, exclusively of the questions concern- 
 ing liberty and moral fitness, which have been perplexed with diffi- 
 culties 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 believe, will here find the scheme of Christianity cleared 
 of objections, and the evidence of it in a peculiar manner strength- 
 ened; those who do not believe, will at least be shewn the absurdity 
 of all attempts to prove Christianity false, the plain undoubted cred- 
 ibility 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 stress laid upon it: and ridicule, unan- 
 swerable ridicule, may be applied, to shpw the argument from it in a 
 disadvantageous light — yet there can be no question but that it is a 
 veal one. For religion, both natural and revealed, implying in it nu- 
 merous 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 admit- 
 ted 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 partic- 
 ularly regarded by such as profess to follow nature, and to be less 
 satisfied with abstract reasonings. 
 
 * Page 102, &e. 
 
CONCLUSION 
 
 WHATEVER account may be given of the strange Inattention 
 and disregard, in some ages and countries, to a matter of" such im- 
 portance as religion, it would, before experience, be incredible that 
 there should be the like disregard in those who have had the moral 
 system of the world laid before them, as it is by Christianity, and 
 often inculcated upon them; because this moral system carries in it 
 a good degree of evidence for its truth, upon its being barelv pro- 
 posed to our thoughts. There is no need of abstruse reasonings and 
 distinctions, to convince an unprejudiced understanding that there 
 is a God who made and governs the world, and will judgaitin right- 
 eousness, though they may be necessary to answer abstruse difficul- 
 ties, when once such are raised; when the very meaning of those 
 words which express most intelligibly the general doctrine of reli- 
 gion, is pretended to be uncertain, and the clear truth of the thing 
 itself is obscured by the intricacies of speculation. But to an un- 
 prejudiced mind, ten thousand thousand instances of design cannot 
 but prove a designer. And it is intuitively manifest, that creatures 
 ought to live under a dutiful sense of their Maker, and that justice 
 and charity must be his laws, to creatures whom he has made social 
 and placed in society. Indeed the truth of revealed religion, pecul- 
 iarly so called, is not self evident, but requires external proof ih 
 order to its being received. Yet inattention among us 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 sup- 
 position of their truth, are obligations of the same nature. For, rev- 
 elation 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 some- 
 thing 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 revelation has a peculiar ten- 
 dency, 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 
 ts truth to embrace it, are of the utmost importance, and moral in 
 
204 Conclusion, . Part IF. 
 
 the highest and most proper sense. Let us then suppose that the 
 evidence of religion in general, and of Christianity, has been seri- 
 ously inquired into by all reasonable men among us Yet we find 
 many professedly to reject both, upon speculativfe principles of infi- 
 delity. And all of them do not content themselves with a bare neg- 
 lect of religion, and er^oying their imaginary freedom from its 
 restraints. Some go much beyond this. They deride God's moral 
 government over the world. They renounce his protection, and 
 defy his justice. They ridicule and vilify Christianity, and blas- 
 pheme the Author of it; and take all occasions to manifest a scorn 
 and contempt of revelation. This amounts to an active setting 
 themselves against religion, ^> what may be considered as a positive 
 principle of irreligion; which they cultivate within themselves, and, 
 whether they intend this effect or not, render habitual, as a good man 
 does the contrary principle. And others, who are not chargeable 
 with all this profligateness, yet are in avowed opposition to religion, 
 as if discovered to be groundless. Now admitting, which is the sup- 
 position we go upon, that these persons act upon what they think 
 principles of reason, and otherwise they are not to be argued with, 
 it is really inconceivable that thej shoulrl imagine they clearly see 
 the whole evidence of it, considered in itself, to be nothing at all; 
 nor do they pretend this. They are far indeed from having a just 
 notion of its evidence; biit they would not say its evidence was 
 nothing, if they thought the system of it, with all its circumstances, 
 were credible, like other matters of science or history. So that their 
 manner of treating it must proceed, either from such kind of objec- 
 tions against all religion as have been answered or obviated in the 
 former part of this treatise, or else from objections and difficulties 
 supposed more peculiar to Christianity. Thus, they entertain preju- 
 dices against the whole notion of a revelation and miraculous inter- 
 positions. They find things in Scripture, whether in incidental pas- 
 sages or in the general scheme of it, which appear to them unrea- 
 sonable. They take for granted that if Christiatiity 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 so.^le way, otherwise put and left than it is. Now this is 
 Kot imagining they see the evidence itself to be nothing or inconsid- 
 fTablc, but quite another thing. It is being fortified against the evi- 
 ■ucnce in some degree acknowledged, by thinkin* they see the system 
 of Christianity, or somewhat which appears to them necessarily con- 
 nected with it, to be incredii)le or false; fortified against that evi- 
 dence which might otherwise make great impression upon them. Or, 
 lastly, if any of these persons are, upon the whole, in doubt concern- 
 ing the truth of Christianity, their behaviour seems owing to their 
 taking for granted, through strange inattention, that such doubting 
 is, in a manner, the same thing as being certain against it. 
 
 To these persons, and to this state of opinion concerning religion, 
 the foregoing treatise is adapted. For, all the general objections 
 against the moral system of nature having been obviated, it is shewn 
 that there is not any peculiar presumption at all against Christianity, 
 either considered as not discoverable by reason, or as unlike to what 
 is so discoveredj nor any worth mentioning against it as miraculous, 
 
Paut U. Contusion. U.Qb 
 
 if any at all; none certainly which can rentier it in the least incred- 
 ible. It is shewn that upon supposition of a divine revelation, the 
 analogy of nature renders it beforehand highly credible, I think 
 probable, that many things in it must appear liable to great objec- 
 tions; and that we must be incompetent judges of it to a great 
 degree. This observation is, 1 think, unquestionably true, and of 
 the very utmost importance; but it is urged, as I hope it will be un- 
 derstood, 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 principle 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 immediately against the wis- 
 dom, justice and goodness 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 theip reference to other things beyond our view; be- 
 cause Christianity is a scheme as 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 shews us. For to like ob- 
 jections the like answer is experienced to be just, in numberless par- 
 allel cases. The objections against the Christian dispensation, and 
 the method by which it is carried on, having been thus obviated in 
 general and together, the chief of them are considered distinctly, 
 and the particular things objected to are shewn 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 infi- 
 nite wisdom and- power engages in accomplishing 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 dispensation prepara- 
 tory to another, this to a farther one, and so on through an indefinite 
 number of ages, before the end of the scheme proposed can be com- 
 pletely accomplished; a scheme conducted by infinite 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 car- 
 ried on, shews such expectations concerning revelation to be highly 
 unreasonable, and is a satifactory answer to them, when urged as ob- 
 jections against the credibility that the great scheme of Providence 
 in the redemption of the world may be of this kind, and to be accom- 
 plished in this manner. As to the particular method of our redemp- 
 tion, the appointmeot of a Mediator between God and man, this has 
 
 * Prov. XX. 27. 
 
208 Conclusion. Part II. 
 
 been shewn to be most obviously analagous to tiie general conduct of 
 nature, i. e. the God of nature in appointing others to be the instru- 
 ments of his mercy, as we experience in the daily course of Provi- 
 dence. The condition of this world, which the doctrine of our re- 
 demption by Christ presupposes, so much falls in with natural ap- 
 pearances, that heathen moralists inferred it from those appearances; 
 inferred that human nature was fallen from its original rectitude, and 
 in consequence of this degraded from its primitive happiness. Or, 
 however this opinion came into the world, these appearances must 
 have kept up the tradition, 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 itself, 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— 
 sojevery day's experience shews 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 annexed to folly and extravagance. 
 Yet there may be ground to think that the punishments, which by 
 the general laws of divine government are annexed 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 h^ve daily instances of 
 such mercy, in the general conduct of nature; compassion provided 
 for misery,* medicines for diseases^ friends against enemies. There 
 is provision made, in the original constitution of the world, that 
 much of the natural bad consequences of our follies, which persons 
 themselves alone cannot prevent, may be prevented by the assistance 
 of others; assistance which nature enables, and disposes, and ap- 
 points them to afford. By a method of goodness analagous to this, 
 V hen the world lay in wickedness and consequently in ruin, 0od ^o 
 loved the ivorld, that he gave his only begotten Son to save it; and he 
 being made perfect by suffering, became the author of eternal salva- 
 tion to all them that obey himi Indeed 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 reason nor analogy lead us to think, that other partic- 
 ular means would be of the efficacy which experience shews they are, 
 in numberless instances. And therefore, as the case before us does 
 not admit of experience, so that neither reason nor analogy caa 
 shew how, or in what particular way, the interposition of Christ, as 
 revealed in Scripture, is of that efficacy which it is there represented 
 to be — this is no kind nor degree of presumption against its being 
 really of that efficacy. Farther — t\ie objections against Christianity 
 from the light of it not being universal, nor its evidence so strong as 
 might possibly be given us, have been answered by the general anal- 
 ogy of nature. That God has made such variety of creatures, is in- 
 deed an answer to the former; but that he dispenses his gifts in such 
 variety, both of degrees and kinds, amongst creatures of the same 
 species, and even to the same individuals at different times, is a mors 
 
 * Fermon at tbe Rolls, page 105, t J<»fcni Hi. 16. Heb. v. 9. 
 
Fart II. Conclusion. S.07 
 
 obvious and full answer to it. And it is so far from being the method 
 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 de~ 
 gree. 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 impossible,* surely, that this alleged doubtfulness may be- 
 inen's own fault, it deserves their most serious consideration 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 evi- 
 dence as really lays us under obligations, as demonstrative evidence. 
 The whole then of religion is throughout credible, nor is there, I 
 think, any thing relating to the revealed dispensation of things, more 
 different from the experienced constitution and course of nature, 
 than some parts of the constitution of nature are from other parts ot 
 it. And if so, the only question which remains is, what positive 
 evidence can be alledged for the truth of Christianity. This too in 
 general has been considered, and the objections against it estimated. 
 Deduct therefore what is to be deducted from that evidence,, upon 
 account of any weight which may be thought to remain in these ob- 
 jections, after what the analogy of nature has suggested in answer 
 to them, and then 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 entertain these principles) and upon 
 such consideration it will be obvious that immorality, as little excuse 
 as it admits of in itself, is greatly aggravated in persons who have 
 been made acquainted with Christianity, whether they believe it or 
 not; because the moral system of nature, or natural religion, 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 be- 
 tween 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 serious 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 speculative 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 Christianity 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 
 shewn that a serious apprehension that Christianity 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 
 
 • Page 169, &?, 
 
208 Conclusion, Part II. 
 
 in many respects nearly the same, with what a full conviction of its 
 truth would lay them under. Lastly, it will appear that blasphemy 
 and profaneness, I mean with regard to Christianity, are absolutely 
 without excuse. For there is no temptation to it but from the wan- 
 tonness of vanity or mirth; and these, considering the infinite impor- 
 tance of the subject, are no such temptations as to afford any excuse 
 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 demonstration 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 BRIEF 
 
 DISSERTATIONS. 
 
 I. Of Personal Identity. 
 II. Of the Nature of Virtue. 
 
 C2 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 IN the first copy of these papers, I had inserted the two following 
 Dissertations into the chapters, OJ a Future Life, and, Of the Moral 
 Government of Gody with which they are closely connected. But as 
 they do not directly fall under the title of the foregoing Treatise? 
 and would have kept the subject of it too long out of sight, it seemed 
 more proper to place them by themselves. 
 
DISSERTATION I. 
 
 Of Personal Identity. 
 
 WHETHER we are to live in a future state, as it is the most im- 
 portant question which can possibly be asked, so it is the most intel- 
 ligible one which can be expressed in language. Yet strange per- 
 plexities have been raised about the meaning of that identity or 
 sameness of person, which is implied in the notion of our living now 
 and hereafter, or in any two successive moments. And the solution 
 of these diflScuIties hath been stronger than the difficulties them- 
 selves. For. personal identity has explained so by some, as to ren- 
 der the inquiry concerning a future life of no consequence at all to 
 us, the persons who are making it. And thougli few men can be 
 misled by such subtleties, yet it may be proper a little to consider 
 them. 
 
 Now, when i|t is asked wherein personal identity consists, the 
 answer should be the same as if it were asked wherein consists simil- 
 itude or equality; that all attempts to define would but perplex it. 
 Yet 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 similitude, or upon twice two and four, the 
 idea of equality — so likewise, upon comparing the consciousness of 
 one's self or one's own existence in any two moments, there as im- 
 mediately 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 shew us that two triangles are alike, and twice 
 two and four are equal — so the latter comparison not only gives us 
 the idea of personal idenity, but also shews us the identity of our- 
 selves in those two moments; the present, suppose, and that imme- 
 diately past; or the present, and that, a month, a year, or twenty 
 years past. Or in other words, by reflecting upon that which is my 
 self now, and that which was my self twenty years ago, I discern 
 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 necessary 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 constitute, per- 
 sonal identity, any more than knowledge in any other case can con- 
 stitute truth, which it presupposes. 
 
^t2 Personal Idenlily. Diss. 1, 
 
 This wonderful mistake maj possibly have arisen from hence, that 
 to be endued with consciousness is inseparable from the idea of a 
 person or intelligent being. For, this might be expressed inaccu- 
 rately 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 consciousness 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 appear to iiave any relation to this 
 of personal identity, because the word snme, when applied to them 
 and to person, is not only applied ta 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. aniL not 
 that the tree has been all that time the same in the strict phiiosai.hi- 
 cal sense of the word. For he does not know, whether any one par- 
 ticle 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 
 not one common particle of matter, they cannot be the same tree in 
 the proper philosophic sense of the wor«i same; it being evidently a 
 contradiction in terms to say they are, when no part of their sub- 
 stance and no one of their properties 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 transferred from one 
 substance to another. And therefore when we say the identity or 
 sameness of a plant consists in a continuation of the same life, com- 
 municated 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 organization, 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 philosophical manner of 
 speech, no 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 subsist with diversity of sub- 
 stance. 
 
 The thing here considered, and demonstratively, as I think, deter- 
 mined, is proposed by Mr. Locke in these words, tchpther it, i. e. 
 the same self or person, be the same identical substance? And he 
 has suggested what is a much better answer to tlie question than that 
 which he gives it in form. For he defines person, a thinking intelli- 
 gent being, &c. and personal identity, the sameness of a rntional 
 being.* The question then is, whether the same rational being is 
 the same substance; whicli needs no answer, because being and sul:«» 
 stance is this place stand for th.e same idea. The ground of the 
 doubt, whether the same person be the same substance, is said to be 
 
 * Lockf's WorkSj vol. 1 . p. 146, 
 
Diss. I. Personal Identity. 219 
 
 this, that the consciousness of our own existence in youth antl in oM 
 age, or in any two joint successive moments, is not the. same individ- 
 ual action,* i. e. not the same consciousness, but different successive 
 consciousness. Now it is strange that tl»is should have occasioned 
 such perplexities. For it is surely conceivable that a person 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 cannot be one and the same 
 perception. And thus, though the successive consciousnesses wliich 
 we have of our own existence are not the same, yet are they con- 
 sciousnesses of one and the same thing or object: of the same person, 
 self, or living agent. The person of whose existence the conscious- 
 ness is felt now, and was felt an hour or a year ago, is discerned to 
 he, not two persons, but one and the same person; ar.d therefore is 
 one and the same. 
 
 Mr. Lockers observations upon this subject appear hasty; and he 
 seems to profess himself dissatisfied with suppositions which he has 
 made relating to it.t But some of those hasty observations havi; 
 been carried to a strange length by others, whose notion, when traced 
 and examined to the bottom, amounts, 1 think, to this:| " That per- 
 sonality is not a permanent, but a transient thing; tliat it lives atid 
 <lies, begins and ends continually; that no one can atiy more remain 
 one and the same person two moments together, than two succes- 
 sive moments can be one and the same moment: that our substance 
 is indeed continually changing; but whether this be so or not, is, it 
 seems, nothing to the purpose, since it is not substance, but con- 
 sciousness alone, which constitutes personality, which consciousness 
 being successive cannot be the same in any two moments, nor con- 
 sequently the personality constituted by it." And from hence it 
 must follow, thatitis a fallacy upon ourselves to charge our present 
 selves with any thing we did, or to imagine our present selves inter- 
 ested in any thing which befel us yesterday, or that our present self 
 will be interested in what will befal us tomorrow; since our present 
 self is not, in reality, the same with theself of yesterday, but another 
 like self or person coming in its room, and mistaken for it; to which 
 another self will succeed tomorrow. This, I say. must follow; for 
 if the self or person of to-day, and that of to-morrow, are not the 
 same, but only like persons, the person of to-day is really no u)orc 
 interested in what will befal the person of to-morrow, than in what 
 will befal any other person. It may ^je thought perhaps, that this is 
 not a just representation of the opinion we are speaking of; because 
 those who maintain it allow, that a person is the same as far back a^ 
 his remembrance reaches. And indeed they do use the words iden- 
 tity and same person. Nor will language permit these words to be 
 laid aside; since if they were, there must be, I know not what ridic- 
 ulous periphrasis substituted in the room of them But they cannot, 
 consistently with themselves, mean that the person is really the same. 
 
 * Locke, page 146, 147 | J^cke, page 152. 
 
 i See au answer to Df . Clarke's third defence of his letter to Mr. Dodwell, 2d edit >• 
 pnge 44, 56, &c. 
 
214 I'ersonal Identity. Diss. I 
 
 For, it is self-evident that the personality cannot be really the same, 
 if, as they expressly assert, that in which it consists is not the same. 
 And as, consistently with themselves, they cannot, so I think it ap- 
 pears they do not, mean that the person is really the same, but orly 
 that he is so in a fictitious sense; in such a sense only as they a^serr, 
 for this they do assert, that any number of persons whatever m;iy be 
 the same person. The bare unfolding this notion, and layinij it tlms 
 naked and open, seems the best confutation of it. However, since 
 great stress is said to be put upon it, I add the following things. 
 
 First, this notion is absolutely contradictory to that certain con- 
 viction which necessarily 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 imagina- 
 tion of a daily change of that living agent which each man calls him- 
 self, 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 
 nis health or aflfaire, 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 reasonable to act upon 
 it with respect to the present. Here then is a notion equally aojili- 
 cable to religion and to our temporal concerns, and every one sees 
 and feels the inexpressible absurdity of it in the latter case; if there- 
 fore any can take up with it in the former, this cannot proceed from 
 the reason of the thing, but must be owing to an inward unfairness 
 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 beings confessedly continue the same, during the 
 whole time of their existepce. Consider then a living being now ex- 
 isting, and which has exis^d for any time alive; this living being roust 
 have done and suffered and enjoyed, what it has done and sufFtred 
 and enjoyed forojerly, (this living being, I say, and not another) as 
 really as it does and suffers and enjoys, what it does and suffers and 
 enjoys this instant. 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 remember- 
 ing or forgetting: since remembering or forgetting can make no alter- 
 ation in tiie truth of past matter of fact. And suppose this being 
 endued with limited powers of knowledge and memory, there is no 
 more difficulty in conceiving it to have a power of knowing itself to 
 be tlie same living being which it was some time ago, of remember- 
 ing some of its actions, suflVrings and enjoyments, and forgetting 
 others, than in conceiving it t'.> 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 remen»brance reaches; since when 
 any one reflects upon a past action of his own, he is just as certain 
 of the person who did that action, namely, himself, the person who 
 now reflects upon it, as lie is certain that the action was at all do-ie. 
 j^ay, vtr-y cOeu a person.'s ass^urance of an action having been done, 
 
Diss. I. Personal Identity. 215 
 
 of which he is absolutely assured, arises wholly from the conscious- 
 ness 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 per- 
 son, 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, still 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 transferred 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 remem- 
 brance reaches, yet it is asked whether we may not possibly be de 
 ceived in it? And this question may be asked at the end of any 
 demonstration whatever; because it is a question concerning th(^ 
 truth of perception by memory. And he who can doubt whethei 
 perception by memory can in this case be depended upon, may doubt 
 also whether perception by deduction and reasoning, which also in- 
 clude 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 suspect; or to attempt to 
 prove the truth of our faculties, which can no otherwise be proved 
 than by the use or means of those very suspected faculties them- 
 selves. 
 
DISSERTATION II. 
 
 Of the jyature of Virtue. 
 
 THAT which renders beings capable of moral government, is their 
 having a moral nature and moral faculties of perception and of ac- 
 tion. Brute creatures are impressed and actuated by various in- 
 stincts and propensions; so also are we. But additional to this, we 
 have a capacity of reflecting upon actions and characters, and mak- 
 ing them an object to our thought; and on doing this, we naturally 
 and unavoidably 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 
 disapproving* faculty, is certain from our experiencing it in our- 
 selves, and recognizing it in each other It appears from our exer- 
 cising it unavoidably, in the approbation and disapprobation even of 
 feigned characters; from the words, right and wrong, odious and ami- 
 able, base and worthy, with many others of like signification in all 
 languages, applied to actions and characters; from the many written 
 systems of 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 words, or a meaning merely chimerical; from 
 our natural sense of gratitude, which implies a distinction between 
 merely being the instrument of good ana intending it: frcrri the like 
 distinction everyone makes between injury and mere harm, which, 
 flbfcfrs says, is peculiar to mankind; and between injury and just 
 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 
 such a moral faculty, whether called conscience, moral reason, moral 
 sense, or divine reason; whether considered as a sentiment of the 
 
 * This way of speaking is taken from Epictetus, [a] and is made use of as seeming 
 the most full, and least liable to cavil. And the moral faculty may be understood to 
 have these two epithets, ^oiiftaBTm^ and ccTro^oKif^xo'TiKT)' ^ 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 determines itself t© be the guide of action 
 and of life, in contradistinction from all other faculties, or natural principles of action; 
 in the very same manner as speculative reason directly and naturally judges of specu- 
 lative truth and falsehood, and at the same time is attended with a consciousness upon 
 reflection, that the natural right to judge of fftem belongs to it, 
 
 [a] Arr.Epict !. I.e. 1. 
 
Diss. II. • Of the JS^ature of Virtue. £17 
 
 understanding, or as a perception of the heart, or, which s»ems the 
 truth, as including both. Nor is at all doubtful in the general what 
 course of action this faculty or practical discerning power within us 
 approves, and what it disapproves. For, as much as it has been dis- 
 puted wherein virtue consists, or whatever ground for doubt there 
 may be about particulars — yet, in general, there is in reality an uni- 
 versally acknowledged standard of it. It is that which all ages and 
 all countries have made profession of in public; it is that which every 
 man you meet puts on the show of; it is that which the primary and 
 fundamental laws of all civil constitutions, over the face of the 
 earth, make it their business and endeavor to enforce the practice of 
 upon mankind; namely, justice, veracity, and reg.ird to common 
 good. It being manifest then, in general, that we have such a fac- 
 ulty 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 ac- 
 tions,* comprehending under that name active or practical princi- 
 ples; those principles from which men would act if occasions and 
 circumstances gave them power, and which, when fived and habitual 
 in any person, we call his character. It does not appear that brutes 
 have the least reflex sense of actions as distinguis ed from events, 
 or that will and design, which constitute the very nature of actions, 
 as such, are at all an object of their perception. But to ours they 
 are; and they are the object, and the only one, of the approving and 
 disapproving faculty. Acting, conduct, behaviour, abstracted from 
 all regard to what is, in fact and event, the consequence of it, is it- 
 self 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 fol- 
 low, we have exactly the same sense of the action as if they did. In 
 like manner we think well or ill of characters, abstracted from all 
 consideration of the good or the evil which persons of such charac- 
 ters have it actually in their power to do We never, in the 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 moral lygood or 
 evil, implies in it a sense or discernment of them as of good or ill 
 desert. It may be difficult to explain this perception, so as to answer 
 all the questions which may be asked concerning it; but every one 
 speaks of such and 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 con- 
 ceive 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, 
 
 * a'fot ^ upsri, Kcti Kxidot—h Ttie-fi k>^ hepye)*. M. Auton. 1. 9. 16. 
 Virtutis lau8 omnis ia tctione consistit, Cic. Off. 1. I . c. 6, 
 D 2 
 
£18 Of the J^ature of Virtue. Diss. II. 
 
 who by sotuc innocent action was infected with the plague, should be 
 left to perish, lest by other people's coming near him the infection 
 should spread— no one would say he deserved this treatment. Inno- 
 cence and ill desert are inconsistent ideas. Ill desert always sup- 
 f)oses guilt; and if one be not part of the other, yet they are evident- 
 y and naturally connected in our mind. The sight of a man in mis- 
 ery raises our compassisn towards him; and if this misery be inflict- 
 ed on him by another, our indignation against the author of it. But 
 when we are informed that the suft'erer is a villain, and is punisl>ed 
 only for his treachery or cruelty, our compas-«ion exceedingly les- 
 sens, and in many instances our indignation wholly subsides. Now 
 what produces this effect, is the conception of that in the sufferer 
 which we call ill desert. Upon considering then, or viewing togeth- 
 er, our notion of vice and that of misery, there results a third, that 
 of ill desert And thus there is in human creatures an association 
 of the two ideas, natural and moral evil, wickedness' and punish- 
 ment. If this association were merely artificial or accidental, it 
 were nothing; but being most unquestionably natural, it greatly con- 
 cerns us to attend to it, instead of endeavoring to explain it away. 
 
 It may be observed farther, concerning our perception of good and 
 of ill desert, that the former is very weak with respect to common in- 
 stances of virtue; one reason of which may be, that it does not appear 
 to a spectator how far such instances of virtue proceed from a vir- 
 tuous principle, or in what degree this principle is prevalent, since 
 a very weak regard to virtue may be sufficient to make men act well 
 in many common instances. And on the other hand, our perception 
 of ill desert in vicious actions lessens, in proportion to the tempta^ 
 tions men are thought to have had to such vices. For, vice in hu- 
 man creatures consisting chiefly in the absence or want of the virtu- 
 ous principle, though a man be overcome, suppose, by tortures, it 
 does not from thence appear to what degree the virtuous principle 
 was wanting. All that appears is, that he had it not in such a de- 
 gree as to prevail over the temptation; but possibly he had it in a de- 
 gree which would have rendered him proof against common tempta- 
 tions. 
 
 Xhirdly, our perception of vice and ill desert arises from, and is 
 the result of, a comparison of actions 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 com- 
 parison, 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 difllerent 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 in- 
 tention 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 difference 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, ren- 
 ders the eame action innocent or less vicious; and this plainly sup- 
 
Dibs. II- Of the Xalure of Virtue. £19, 
 
 poses a comparison, whether reflected upon or not, between the action 
 and capacities of the agent, previous to our determining an action 
 to be vicious. And hence arises a proper application of the epithets, 
 incongruous, unsuitable, disproportionate^ unfit, to actions which our 
 moral faculty determines 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 greater good, for the sake of a present lesser gratification, 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 in- 
 terest or happiness, and a reasonable endeavor to secure and promote 
 it, which is, 1 think, very much the meaning of the word prudence. 
 in our language— it should seem, that this is virtue, and the contrary 
 behavior faulty and blameable; since, in the calmest way of reflec- 
 tion, we approve of the first, and condemn the other conduct, both 
 in ourselves and others. This approbation and disapprobation are 
 altogether different from mere desire of our own, or of their happi 
 ness, and from sorrow upon missing it. For the object or occasion 
 of this last kind of perception is satisfaction or uneasiness; where- 
 as the object of the first is active behaviour. In one case, what our 
 thoughts fix upon is our 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; 1 suppose, because that constant habitual 
 sense of private interest and good, which we always carry about 
 with us, renders such sensible disapprobation less necessary, less 
 wanting, to keep us from imprudently neglecting our own happiness, 
 and foolishly injuring ourselves, than it is necessary and wanting to 
 keep us from injuring others, to whose good we cannot have so strong 
 and constant a regard; and also because imprudence and folly, ap- 
 
 { tearing to bring its own punishment more immediately and constant- 
 y than injurious behaviour, it less needs the additional punishment 
 which would be inflicted upon it by others, had they the same sensi- 
 ble indignation against it as against injustice and fraud and cruelty. 
 Besides, unhappiness being in itself the natural object of compas. 
 sion, the unhappiness which people bring upon themselves, though it 
 be wilfully, excites in us some pity for them; and this of course les= 
 sens our displeasure against them. But still it is matter of experi- 
 ence, that we are formed so as to reflect very severely upon the 
 greater instances 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 distress by a long course of ex- 
 travagance, and after frequent admonitions, though without false- 
 hood or injustice; we plainly do not regard such people, as alike 
 objects of compassion with those who are brought Into the same con- 
 dition by unavoidable accidents. From these things it appears, that 
 prudence is a species of virtue, and folly of vice; meaning by folly 
 somewhat quite different from mere incapacity: a thoughtless want 
 
220 Of the Miture of Virtue. Biss. II. 
 
 of that regard and attention to our own happiness which we had ca- 
 pacity for. And this the world 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 uf> the words virtue and vice, as not applica- 
 ble to prudence and folly; but must beg leave to insist, that the fac- 
 ulty within us, which is the judge of actions, approves of prudent 
 actions, and disapproves imprudent ones; I say prudent and impru- 
 dent 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 re- 
 solvable into benevolence, and vice into the want of it, it may be 
 proper to observe, that benevolence and the want of it, singly con- 
 sidered, aro in no sort the whole of virtue and vice. For if this 
 were the case, in the review of one's own character 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 ap- 
 prove of benevolence to some persons rather than to others, nor dis- 
 approve 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 tlie second. But now on the contrary, 
 suppose two men competitors for any thing whatever which would be 
 of equal advantage to each of them, though nothing indeed would 
 be more impertinent than for a stranger to busy himself to get one 
 of them preferred to the other, yet such endeavor would be virtue in 
 behalf of a friend or benefactor, abstracted from all consideration of 
 distant consequences; as that examples of gratitude and the cultiva- 
 tion of friendship would be of general good to the world. Again, 
 suppose one man should, by fraud or violence, take from another the 
 fruit of his labor, 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 enjoyment and his 
 vexation in the loss of it; suppose also tiiat no bad consequences 
 would follow: yet such an action would surely be vicious. Nay, 
 farther, were treachery, violence and injustice no otherwise vicious 
 than as foreseen likely to produce an overbalance of misery to so- 
 ciety, then, if in any case a man could procure to himself as great ad- 
 vantage by an act of injustice as the whole foreseen inconvenience 
 likely to be brought upon others by it would amount to, such a piece 
 ofinju&fice would not be faulty or vicious at all, because it would 
 bft no more than, in any other rase, for a man to prefer his own 
 satisfaction to another's in equal degrees. The fact then appears to 
 be, that we are constituted so as to condemn falsehood, unprovoked 
 violence, injustice, and to approve of benevolence to some preferably 
 to others, abstracted from all consideration which conduct is likely 
 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 in- 
 
Diss. U. Of the J^Tature of Virtue. 2£^ 
 
 deed, the only reason of his giving us the above-mentioned approba- 
 tion of benevolence to some persons rather than others, and disap- 
 probation of falsehood, unprovoked violence, and injustice, must be, 
 that he foresaw this constitution of our nature would produce more 
 happiness than forming us with a temper of more general benevo- 
 lence. But still, since this is pur 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 produce. 
 
 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 observation, contradicted 
 what any author designed to assert. But some of great antt distin- 
 guished 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 mistakes, 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 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 1 forbear — The happiness of the world is the con- 
 cern of him, who is the lord and the proprietor of it; nor do we know 
 what we are about, when we endeavor to promote the good of man- 
 kind in any ways but those which he has directed, that is indeed in 
 all ways not contrary to veracity and justice. I speak thus upon 
 supposition of persons really endeavoring, in some sort, to do good 
 without regard to these. But the truth seems to be, that such sup- 
 posed endeavors 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 endeavor, within the bounds of veracity and justice, 
 to contribute to the ease, convenience, and even cheerfulness and 
 diversion of our fellow creatures — yet from our short views, it is 
 greatly uncertain when this endeavor will, in particular instances, 
 produce 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 endeavor is a cultivation of that most 
 excellent of all virtuous principles, the active principle of benevo- 
 lence. ' 
 
 * Page 104. 
 
5122 Of the J^Tature of Virtue. Dxss. 11. 
 
 However, though veracity as well as justice is to be our rule of 
 Hfe, 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 
 understood, cannot be falsehood, and, in general, that there can be 
 DO designed falsehood without designing to deceive. It must like- 
 wise be observed, that in numberless cases a man may be under the 
 strictest obligations to what he foresees will deceive, without his in- 
 tending 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- 
 aot but be so whilst they will judge with the utmost carelessness, as 
 they daily do, of what they are not, perhaps, enough informed to be 
 competent judges of, even though they considered it with great 
 attention. 
 
CHARGE 
 
 DELIVERED TO 
 
 THE CLERGY 
 
 AT THE 
 PRIMARY VISITATION OF THE DIOCESE OF DURHAM, IN THE YEAY 1751; 
 
 BY THE RIGHT REVEREND FATHER IN GOD 
 
 JOSEPB BUTLER, LL.D. 
 
 TUXN lOBD BISHOP OF THAT OI0CSSS« 
 
 WITH NOTES, 
 
 CoDtAining a defence of the Churge against the objections of an anonymous vxitcr* 
 BY THE EDITOR. 
 
A 
 
 CHARGE 
 
 DELIVERED TO 
 
 THE CLERGY, &c.* 
 
 IT is impossible for me, ray brethren, upon our first meeting of 
 this kind, to forbear lamenting with you, the general decay of reli- 
 gion in this nation; which is now observed by every one, and has 
 been for some time the complaint of all serious persons. The influ- 
 ence of it is more and more wearing out of the minds of men, even 
 of those who do not pretend to enter into speculations upon the sub- 
 ject; but the number of those who do, and who profess themselves 
 unbelievers, increases, and with their numbers their zeal. Zeal, it is 
 natural to ask — for what? Why truly /or nothing, but against every 
 thing that is good and sacred amongst us. 
 
 Indeed, whatever efforts are made against our religion, no Chris- 
 tian can possibly despair of it. For He, who has all poiaer in heaven 
 and earth, has promised that he will he with us to the end of the 
 world. Nor can the present cTecline of it be any stumbing block to 
 such as are considerate; since he himself has so strongly expressed 
 what is so remarkably predicted in other passages of Scripture, the 
 great defection from his religion which should be in the latter days, 
 by that prophetic question, when the Son of Man cometh, shall he 
 find faith upon the earth? How near this time is, God only knows; 
 but this kind of Scripture signs of it is too apparent. For as differ- 
 ent ages have t»een distinguished by different sorts of particular er- 
 rors and vices, the deplorable distinction of ours is an avowed scorn 
 of religion in some, and a growing disregard to it in the generality. 
 
 • The puhlieation of Bishop Butler's Chaise, in the year 1751, was followed by a 
 pamphlet, printed in 1752, entitled, * A serious Inquiry into the Use and Importance of 
 External Religion, occasioned by some passages in the Right Reverend the Lord Bish- 
 op of Diu'ham's Charge to the Clergy of that Diocese, &c. humbly addressed to his 
 Lordship.' This pamphlet has been reprinted in a miscellaneous work; such parts of 
 it as seemed most worthy of observation, the reader will find in the Notes 3(^bjoined to 
 thoae passages of the Charge, to which the pamphlet refers. 
 E 2 
 
•i!26 Charge to the 
 
 As to the proFessed enemies of religion, 1 know not how often 
 they may come in your way; but often enough, I fear, in the way of 
 some at least amongst you, to require consideration what is the 
 proper behaviour towards them. One would, to be sure, av(»id great 
 familiarities with these persons; especially if they affect to be licen- 
 tious and profane in their common talk. Yet if you fall into their 
 company, treat them with the regards which belong to their rank: for 
 so we must people who are vicious in any other respect. We should 
 study what St. James, with wonderful elegance and expressiveness, 
 calls meekness of wisdom, in onr behaviour towards all men, but 
 more especially towards these nu-n; not so much as being what we 
 owe to them, but to ourselves an»l our religion, that we may adorn 
 the doctrine of God our Saviour, in our carriage towards thode who 
 labor to vilify it. 
 
 For discourse with them, the caution commonly given, not to at- 
 tempt answering objections which we have not considered, is cer- 
 tainly just Nor need any one in a particular case be ashamed 
 frankly to acknowledge his ignorance, provided it be not general. 
 And though it were, to talk of what he is not acquainted with, is a 
 dangerous method of endeavoring to conceal it. But a considerate 
 person, however qualified he be to defend his religion, and answer 
 the objections he hears made against it, may sometimes see cause to 
 decline that office. Sceptical and profane men are extremely apt to 
 bring up this subject at meetings of entertainment, and such as are 
 of the freer sort; innocent ones. I mean, otherwise I should not sup- 
 pose you would be present at them. Now religion is by far too seri- 
 ous a matter to be the hackney subject upon these occasions. And 
 by preventing its being made so, you will better secure the reverence 
 which is due to it, tiian by entering into its defence. Every one ob- 
 serves, that men's having examples of vice often before their eyes, 
 familiarizes it to the mind, and has a tendency to take off that just 
 abhorrence of it which the innocent at first felt, even though it should 
 not alter ihe'ir Juds^ment of vice, or make them really believe it to be 
 less evil or dangerous. In like mannei', the hearing religion often 
 disputed about in light familiar conversation, has a tendency to les- 
 sen that sacred regard to it, which a good man would endeavor al- 
 ways to keep up. both in himself and others. But this is not all; 
 people are too apt inconsiderately to take for grantefl that things are 
 really questionable, because they hear them often disputed. This 
 indeed is so far from being a consequence, that we know demonstra- 
 ted truths have been disputed, and even matters of fact, the objects 
 of our senses. But were it a consequence, were the evidence of 
 religion no more than doubtful, then it ought not to be concluded false 
 any more than true, nor denied any more than affirmed: for suspense 
 would be the reasonable state of mind with regard to it. And then 
 it ought iq, all reason, considering its infinite importance, to have 
 nearly the same influence upon practice, as if it were thoroughly be- 
 lieved. For would it not be madness for a man to forsake a sa'' 
 road, and prefer to it one in which he acknowledges there is an ever 
 chance he should lose his life, though there were an even chance I'ike 
 wise of his getting safe through it? Yet there are people absur* 
 e(U)ugh to take the supposed doubtfulness of religion for the sam> 
 
Clergy of Durham^ 1751. 22' 
 
 th'mg as a proof of its falsehood, after they have concluded it doubt- 
 ful from hearing it often called in question. This shews how infi- 
 nitely unreasonable sceptical men are, with regard to religion, and 
 that they really lay aside their reason upon this subject as much as 
 the most extravagant enthusiasts. But further, cavilling and object- 
 ing upon any subject is much easier than clearing up difficulties; and 
 this last part will always be put upon the defenders of religton. 
 Now a man may be fully convinced of the truth of a matter, and 
 upon the strongest reasons, and yet not be able to answer all the dif- 
 ficulties which may be raised upon it. 
 
 I'hen again, the general evi<lence of religion is complex and vari- 
 ous. It consists of a long series of things, one preparatory to and 
 confirming another, from the very beginning of the world to the pres- 
 ent time. And it is easy to see how impossible it must be, in a cur- 
 sury conversation, to unite all this into one argument, and represent 
 it as it ought; and could it be done, how utterly indisposed people 
 wouUI be to attend to it — I say in a cursory conversation: whereas 
 uiuonnected objections are thrown out in a few words, and are easily 
 apprehended, without more attention than is usual in common talk. 
 So that, notwithstanding we have the best cause in the world, and 
 though a man were very capable of defending it, yet I knov/ not why 
 he should be forward to undertake it upon so great a disadvantage, 
 and to so little good effect, as it must be done amidst the gaiety ;;a(i 
 carelessness of common conversation. 
 
 But then it will be necessary to be very particularly upon your 
 guard, that you may not seem, by way of compliance, to join in with 
 any levity of discourse respecting religion. Nor would one let any 
 pretended argument against it pass entirely without notice; nor any 
 gross ribaldry upon it, without expressing our thorough disapproba- 
 tion. This last may sometimes be done by silence; for silence some- 
 times is very expressive; as was that of our blessed Saviour before 
 the Sanhedrim, and before Pilate. Or it may be done by observing 
 mildly, that religion deserves another sort of treatment, or a more 
 thorough consideration than such a time, or such circumstances ad- 
 mit. However, as it is absolutely necessary that we take care, by- 
 diligent reading and study, to be always prepared, to be readij al- 
 ways to give an answer to every man that asketh a reason of the hope 
 that is in us — so there may be occasions when it will highly become 
 us to do it. And then we m.ust take care to do it in the spirit which 
 the apostle requires, tvith meekness and fear:* meekness towards 
 those who give occasions for entering into the defence of our reli- 
 gion; and with /gar, not of them, but of God; with that reverential 
 fear which the nature of religion requires, and which is so far from 
 being inconsistent with, that it will inspire proper courage towarda 
 men. Now this reverenti.lj fear will lead us to insist strongly U[)()n 
 the infinite greatness of God's scheme of government, both in extent 
 and duration, together with the wise connexion of its parts, aiid tlie 
 injpopsibility of accounting fully for the several parts, without seeing 
 the whole plan of Providence to which they relate; which is beyond 
 the utmost stretch of our understanding. And to all this must be 
 
 *I Peter, iii, 15. 
 
228 Charge to the 
 
 added the necessary deficiency of human language, when things di- 
 vine are the subject of it. These ohservations are a proper full an- 
 swer to many objections, and very material with regard to all. 
 
 But your standing business, and which requires constant attention* 
 is with the body of the people; to revive in them the spirit of reli- 
 gion which is so much declioing. And it may seem, that whatever 
 reason there be for caution as to entering into any argumentative 
 defence of religion in common conversation, yet that it is necessary 
 to do this from the pulpit, in order to guard the people against being 
 corrupted, however in some places. But then surely it should be 
 done in a manner as little controversial as possible. For tliough 
 such as are capable of seeing the force of objections are capable also 
 of seeing the force of the answers which are given to them, yet the 
 truth is, the people will not competently attend to either But it is 
 easy to see which they will attend to most. And to hear religion 
 treated of, as what many deny, and which has much said against it 
 as well as for it, this cannot but have a tendency to give them ill im- 
 pressions at any time; and seems particularly improper for all per- 
 sons at a time of devotion, even for such as are arrived at the most 
 settled state of piety: — I say at a time of devotion, when we are 
 assembled to yield ourselves up to the full influence of the Divine 
 Presence, and to call forth into actual exercise every pious affection 
 of heart. For it is to be repeated, that the heart and course of affec- 
 tions may be disturbed when there is no alteration of judgment. 
 Now the evidence of religion may b© laid before men without any 
 air of controversy. The proof of the being of God, from final cau- 
 ses, or the design and wisdom which appears in every part of nature, 
 together with the law of virtue written upon our hearts;* the proof 
 
 * The law of virtue written upon our hearts.] The author of the 
 Inquiry, mentioned above, informs us in his Postscript, that " the 
 certain consequence of referring mankind to a laiv of nature or vir- 
 tue written upon their hearts is their having recourse to their own 
 ^nse of things on all occasions; which being, in a great majority,, 
 no better than family superstition, party prejudice, or self interested 
 artifice, (perhaps n compound of all) will be too apt to overrule the 
 plain precepts of the Gospel.'' And he declares he has " no better 
 opinion of the clearness^ certainty uniformity, universality, &c. of 
 this law, than" he has '* of the "importance of extetiial religion.''^ 
 "What then must we say to St. Paul, who not only asserts, in the 
 ■strongest terms, the reality of such a law, but speaks of its obliga- 
 tion as extending to all inatikind; blaming some among the Gentiles 
 as without excuse, for not adverting to and obeying it: and com- 
 mending others for doing hv nature (in contradiction to revelation; 
 the thinjrs contained in the law, thus shewing the work of the law 
 written in their heart-. If, because " natural religion is liable to be 
 mistaken, it is high time to have done with it in the pulpit," liow 
 comes it that the same apostle refers the Pliillippians to the study of 
 ;his religion, to whatsoever things are true, hi)ner.t,just, lovely and pf 
 good report? And yet without such a study or knowledge of the 
 moral law must always remain imperfect: for a complete system of 
 morality is certainly no where to be found either in the Old or New 
 
Clergy of Durham^ 1751. £29 
 
 of Christianity from miracles, and the accomplishment of prophe- 
 cies; and the confirmation which the natural and civil history of the 
 world give to the scripture account of things; — these evidences of 
 religion might properly be insisted on in a way to affect and influence 
 the heart, though there were no professed unbelievers in the world; 
 and therefore may be insisted on without taking much notice that 
 there are such. And even their particular objections may be obvi- 
 ated without a formal mention of them. Besides, as to religion in 
 general, it is a practical thing, and no otherwise a matter of specu- 
 lation, than common prudence in the management of our worldly 
 affairs is so. And if one were endeavoring to bring a plain man to 
 be more careful with regard to this last, it would be thought a strange 
 method of doing it, to perplex him with stating formally the several 
 objections which men of gaiety or speculation have made against 
 prudence, and the advantages which they pleasantly tell us folly has 
 over it, though one could answer those objections ever so fully. 
 
 Testament fa] When a christian minister is enforcing the duties or 
 doctrines of revealed religion, he may perhaps do well to '• tell his 
 people he has no other proof of the original, truth, obligations, pres- 
 ent benefits and future rewards of religion to lay before them, than 
 what is contained in the Scriptures." But what if his purpose be to 
 inculcate some moral virtue.*^ Will it not be useful here, besides ob- 
 serving that the practice of that virtue is enjoined by a divine com- 
 TOand, to recommend it still further to his hearers, by shewing that 
 it approves itself to our inward sense and perception, and accords 
 with the native sentiments and suggestions of our minds? Meta- 
 physicians may say what they will of our feeliugs of this sort being 
 all illusive, liable to be perverted by education and habit, and judged 
 of by men's own sense of things; they whose understandings are yet 
 unspoiled by philosophy and vain deceit will be little disposed to listen 
 to such assertions. Nor are there wanting arguments which prove, 
 and, as should seem, to the satisfaction of every reasonable inquirer, 
 that the great and leading principles of moral duties have in all ages 
 been the same; that such virtues as benevolence, justice, compas- 
 sion, gratitude, accidental obstacles removed, and when the precise 
 meaning of the words has been once explained, are instinctively 
 known and approved by all men; and that our approbation of these 
 is as much a part of our nature implanted in us by God, and as little 
 liable to caprice and fashion, as the sense of seeing, given us also by 
 Him, by which all bodies appear to us in an erect, and not an invert- 
 ed position. [b] Mr, Locke's authority has been generally looked up 
 to as decisive on such questions, and his sentiuieiits have been em- 
 braced implicitly and without examination. Tliivt great and good 
 man, however, is not to be charged with the pernicious consequences 
 which others have drawn from his opinions; consequences which 
 have been carried to such a length, as to destroy all moral difference 
 of human actions; making virtue and vice altogether arbitrary; call- 
 ing evil good., and good evil; putting darkness for light, and light 
 ^nr (hirkness; putting bitter for siveei, and sweet for bitter. 
 
 '>] ^ 
 
 a] See the second of Dr Balgiiv's Charges, 
 "oe the thii"i of Bishop Kurd's Scrniojis, Vol. !• 
 
230 Charge to the 
 
 Nor does the want of religion in the generality of the common 
 people, appear owing to a speculative disbelief or denial of it, but 
 chiefly to thoughtlessness and the common temptations of life. 
 Your chief business, therefore, is to endeavor to beget a practical 
 sense of it upon their hearts, as what they acknowledge their belief 
 of, and profess they ought to conform themselves to. And this is to 
 be done by keeping up, as well as we are able, the form and face ol* 
 religion with decency and reverence, and in such a degree as to 
 bring the thoughts of religion often to their minds;* and then en- 
 deavoring to make this form more and more subservient to promote 
 the reality and power of it. The form of religion may indeed be 
 where there is little of the thing itself; but the thing itself cannot be 
 preserved amongst mankind without the form t And this form fre- 
 
 * By keeping up the form and face of religion in such a degree as 
 to bring the thoughts of religion often to their minds ] To this it is 
 said by our Inquirer, that "the Clergy of the Church of England 
 }jave no wav ot keeping up the /orm and /«ce of religion any oftener, 
 or in any other degree, than is directed by the prescribed order of the 
 Church." As if the whole duty of a parish priest consisted in read- 
 ing prayers and a sermon on Sundays, and performing the occasional 
 offices appointed in the liturgy! One would think the writer who 
 made this objection had never read more of the Charge than the four 
 pages he has particularly selected for the subject of his animadver- 
 sions. Had he looked farther, he would have found other methi>ds 
 recommended to the Clergy of introducing a sense of religion into 
 the minds of their parishioners, which occur much oftener than the 
 times alloted for the public services of the Church; such as family- 
 prayers; acknowledging the divine bounty at our meals: personal 
 applications from ministers of parishes to individuals under their 
 care, on particular occasions and circumstances, as at the time of 
 confirmation, at first receiving the holy communion on recovery 
 from sickness, and the like; none of which are prescribed in our 
 established ritual, any more than those others so ludicrously men- 
 tioned by this writer, " bowing to the east, turning the face to that 
 quarter in repeating the creeds, dipping the finger in water, and 
 therewith crossing the child's forehead in baptism." 
 
 fThe tliirjg itself cannot be preserved amongst mankind tvithout 
 the form] The Quakers reject all forms, even the two of Christ's 
 own institution; will it he said that "these men have no religion 
 preserved amony; them?" It will neither be said nor insinuate*!. The 
 Quakers, though they have not the/or?n, arc careful to keep up the 
 yace of religion; as appears not otily from the custom of assembling 
 tlremselves for the pusposcs of public worship on the Lord's day, but 
 from their silent meetings on other days of the week. And that 
 they are equally sensible of the importa'ice of maintaining the influ- 
 ence of religion on their minds, is manifefit from the practice of what 
 they call inward prayer, in conlormity to the direction of Scripture 
 io pray continuaUv: '•^ Which, '^ QiiitU Robert Barclay, "cannot be 
 unilerstood o( outicard prayer, because it were impossible that men 
 should be always upon their Ivnees, expressing the icords of prayer, 
 which would liinucr tiiem from the exerci-^e of those duties no loss posi- 
 tively corr'fr)»n<lo<!." Jpo'ogtiforf.he Qiwl.er^: Prop. ii. Of M^orshi^. 
 
Clergy of Durham f 1751. 231 
 
 quently occurring in some instance or other of it, will be a frequent 
 admonition* to bad men to repent, and to good men to grow better: 
 and also be the means of their doing so. 
 
 That which men have accounted religion in the several countries 
 of the world, generally speaking, has had a great and conspicuous 
 part in all public appearances, and the face of it been kept up with 
 great reverence throughout all ranks from the highest to the lowest; 
 not only upon occasional solemnities, but also in the daily course of 
 behaviour. In the heathen world, their superstition was the chief 
 subject of statuary, sculpture, painting and poetry. It mixed itself 
 with business, civil forms, diversions, domestic entertainments, and 
 every part of common life. The Mahometans are obliged to shoVt 
 devotions five times between morning and evening. In Roman Cath- 
 olic countries, people cannot pass a day without having religion 
 recalled to their thoughts, by some or other memorial of it, by some 
 ceremony or public religious form occuring in their way;t besides 
 
 * Thh form frequently occxxnng \n some instance or other of it. 
 will be a frequent admonition, &c,] Here it has been objected, that 
 " the number, variety, and frequent occurrence of forms in religion 
 are apt to be considered by the generality as commutations for their 
 vices, as something substituted in lieu of repentance, and as loads 
 and incumbrances upon true Christian edification." This way of 
 arguing against the use of a thing from the abuse of it, instead of 
 arguing from the nature of the thing itself, is the master sophism that 
 pervades the whole performance we are here examining. What rea- 
 sonable man ever denied that the pomp of outward worship has been 
 sometimes mistaken for inward piety.^ That positive institutions 
 v.'hen rested in as ends, instead of being applied as means, are hurt- 
 ful to the interests of true religion.^ Not liishop Butler certainly, 
 who blames the observances of the papists on this account; some of 
 them as being "in themseves wrong and superstitious;" and others, 
 as being " made subservient to the purposes of superstition," and for 
 this reason " abolished by our reformers." In the meanwhile it will 
 still be true, that bodily worship is by no means to be discarded, as 
 unuseful in exciting spiritual devotion; on the contrary, that thej 
 mutually assist and strengthen each other; and that a mere mental 
 intercourse with God, and a religious service purely intellectual, is 
 altogether unsuitable to such a creature as man, during his present 
 state on earth. 
 
 t In Roman Catholic countries, people cannot pass a day without 
 having religion recalled to their thoughts, by some ceremony or pub- 
 lic religious form occurring in their way.] " What in the former 
 period" (when speaking of the heathen world) was "called super- 
 stition, becomes in this" (when speaking of Roman Catholie) " reli- 
 gion and religious forms; which the papists pretending to connect 
 with Christianity, and the Charge giving no hint that this is no more 
 than a pretence, a plain reader must needs take this as spoken of the 
 means and memorials of frz/e religion, and will accordingly consider 
 these as recommended to his practice and imitation." if a plain 
 reader, at first view of the passage alluded to, should inadvertently 
 fall into such a mistake, he would find that mistake immediately cor- 
 
2Sg Charge to tJis 
 
 their frequent holidays, the short prayers they are daily called to,' 
 and the occasional devotions enjoined by confessors. By these 
 means their superstition sinks deep into the minds of the people, and 
 their religion also into the minds of such among them as are serious 
 and well disposed. Our reformers, considering that some of these 
 observances were in themselves wrong and superstitious, and others 
 of them made subservient to the purposes of superstition; abolished 
 them, reduced the form of religion to great simplicity, and enjoined 
 no more particular rules, nor left any thing more of what was exter- 
 nal in religion than wa"?, in a manner, necessary to preserve a sense 
 of religion itself upon the minds of the people. But a great part of 
 this is neglected by the generality amongst us; for instance, the ser- 
 vice of the Church, not only upon common days, but ai-so upon saints' 
 days; and several other things might be mentioneii. Thus they 
 have no customary admonition, no public call to recollect the 
 thoughts of Goo and Religiox from one Sunday to anotlier. 
 
 It was far otherwise under the Law. These ivords, says Moses to 
 the children of Isuael, which I command thee^ shaLl be in thine heart; 
 and thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk 
 of them when thou sittest in tJiine house, and when thou walkest by 
 the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest upf And 
 
 rected by the very nest sentence that follows, where the religion of 
 the Roman Catholics and their superstition are distinguished from 
 each other in express words. But the terms in question are used 
 with the strictest propriety. The design of the Bishop, in this part 
 of his Charge, is to consider religion, not under the notion of its 
 being true, but as it affects the senses and imaginations of the mul- 
 titude. For so the paragraph begins. " That which men have ac- 
 counted religion in the several countries of the world,"' (whether 
 the religion be true or false is beside his present argument) "gen- 
 erally speaking, has a great an<l conspicuous part in all public ap- 
 pearances." This position he illustrates by tliree examples, the 
 Heathen, the Mahometan, and the Roman Catholic religions. The 
 two first of these, having little or nothing of true religion belonging 
 to them, may well enough be characterized under the common name 
 of superstition; the last contains a mixture of both; which therefore 
 the Bishop, like a good writer as well as a just reasoner, is careful 
 to distinguish. In Roman Catholic countries a man can hardly 
 travel a mile without passing a crucifix erected on\he road side; he 
 may either stop to worship the image represented on the cross, or he 
 may simply be reminded by it of his own relation to Christ crucified; 
 thus by one and the same outward sign " religion may be recalled to 
 his thoughts," or superstition n>ay take possession of his mind. In 
 the celebration of the eucharist, the elements of bread and wine are 
 regarded by a papist as the very body and blood of Christ^-to a pro- 
 testant they appear only as symbols and memorials of that body and 
 blood; what in one is an act of rational devotion, becomes in the 
 other an instance of the grossest superstition, if not idolatry. 
 
 t«3nrf when thou risest up.'] Allowing that " what Moses in this 
 pasfiige wanted to have effected was obedience to the moral law," 
 nothing sure could be of greater use in securing that obedience than 
 
Clergy of Durham, 17 5\.^ "~^ " «?fi?^ 233 
 
 as they were commanded this; so it is obvious how much the consti- 
 tution of that law was adapted to effect it, and keep religion ever ia 
 view. And without somewhat of this nature, piety will grow lan- 
 guid even among the better sort of men; and the worst will go on 
 quietly in an abandoned course, with fewer interruptions from within 
 than they would have, were religious reflections forced oftener upon 
 their minds,* and consequently with less probability of their amend- 
 
 the practice here enjoined. Our Inquirer however is of a different 
 opinion; and " very much questions whether his Lordship could have 
 fallen upon any passage in the Old Testament, v/hich relates at all 
 to his subject, that would have been less favorable to his argument." 
 Who shall decide? &c. — The Bishop goes on, " As they (the Jews) 
 were commanded this, so it is obvious how much the constitution of 
 their law was adapted to effect it, and keep religion ever in view." 
 Upon which the Inquirer remarks, " It was then very ill, or at least 
 very unwisely done, to abrogate that law, whose constitution was 
 adapted to so excellent a purpose." Let us first see what may be 
 offered in defence of the liishop, and then consider what is to be 
 said in answer to his opponent. The purpose for which the Mosaic 
 constitution was established was this, to preserve, amidst a world 
 universally addicted to polytheism and idolatry, the great doctrine 
 of the Unity of the Divine Nature, till the seed should come to whom 
 the promise was made. As a means to this end, the Israelites were 
 not only to be kept separate from every other nation, but, the better 
 to ensure such separation, they were to be constantly employed in a 
 multifarious ritual, which left them neither time nor opportunity for 
 deviating into the superstitious observances of their pagan neighbors. 
 And this, I suppose, may suffice for vindicating the Bishop's asser- 
 tion, that " the constitution of the Jewish law was adapted to keep 
 religion ever in view." But the Jewish law was not only adapted 
 to this end; we are next to observe that the end itself was actually 
 gained. For though it be too notorious to be denied, that the Jews 
 did not always confine their religious homage to the God of Israel, 
 but polluted the service, due to Him alone, with foreign worship — 
 yet, even in their worst defections, it should be remembered, they 
 never totally rejected the true Jehovah; and after their return from 
 captivity, they were so thoroughly cured of all remaining propensity 
 to the idolatrous rites of heathenism, as never again to violate their 
 allegiance to the God of their fathers. It appears then that, in con- 
 sequence of the Jewish separation, the principle of the Unity was ia 
 fact preserved inviolate among that people till the coming of Christ, 
 When the Mosaic constitution had thus attained its end, and man- 
 kind were now prepared for the reception of a better covenant, the 
 law expired of course; the partition wall that had divided the Jew 
 from the Gentile was taken down, and all distinction between them 
 lost under the common name of Christians. And this may suffice to 
 shew, in opposition to our Inquirer, that it was both very well and 
 very wisely done to abrogate s law, v/hen the purpose for which the 
 law had been enacted was accomplished. 
 
 •Were religious cefiections forced oftener upon their minds.} 
 ** According to the Bishop's doctrine, then," savs the Inquire^i "it' 
 
£34 Charge to the 
 
 nient. Indeed in mo«t ages of the church, the care of reasonable 
 men has been, as there has been for the most part occasion, to draw 
 the people off from laying too great weight upon external things; 
 upon formal acts of piety. But the state of matters is quite changed 
 now v.ith us. These things are neglected to a degree which is, and 
 cannot but be, attended with a decay of all that is good. It is highly 
 seasonable now to instruct the people in the importance of external 
 religion.* 
 
 And doubtless under this head must come into consideration a 
 proper regard to the structures which are consecrated to the service 
 of God. In the present turn of the age, one may observe a wonder- 
 ful frugality in every thing which has respect to religion, and extrav- 
 agance in every thing else. But amidst the appearances of opulence 
 and improvement in all common things, which are now seen in moat 
 places, it would be hard to find a reason why these monuments of 
 ancient piety should not be preserved in their original beauty and 
 magnificence. But in the least opulent places they must be pre- 
 served in becoming repair; and every thing relating to the divine 
 service be, however, decent and clean; otherwise we shall vilify the 
 
 should be not only good policy, but wholesome discipline to force 
 men in England to come to church, and in France to go to mass." 
 And again, " If externals have this virtue to enforce religious re- 
 flections, it must be right to compel those who are indisposed to such 
 reflections to attend these memorials." Yes; granting that the sense 
 of the passage in the Charge is not shamefully perverted, and that 
 we are to understand the Bishop here to speak of external force and 
 compulsion. Whereas by " religious reflections forced," is plainly 
 meant no more than religions reflections oftener thrown in men's 
 way, brought more frequently into their thoughts, so as to produce 
 an habitual recollection that they are always in the divine presence. 
 * To instruct the people in the importance of external religion.] 
 "The importance of external religion," the Inquirer remarks, "is 
 the grand engine of the papists, which they play with the greatest 
 effect upon our common people, who are always soonest taken and 
 ensnared by form and shew; and, so far as we concur with them in 
 the principle, we are doing their work; since if externals, as such, 
 are important, the plain natural consequence is, the more of them 
 the better." He had the same reflection once before — " If true reli- 
 gion cannot be preserved among men without forms, the consequence 
 must be that the Romish religion, having — more frequent occurrences 
 of forms, is better than other religions which have fewer of these — 
 occurrences." To this argument I reply, J^^ego consequentiam. 
 There may be too much of form in religion, as well as too little; the 
 one leads to enthusiasm, the other degenerates into superstition; one 
 is puritanism, the other popery— whereas the rational worship ot 
 God is equally removed from either extreme. Did the Inquirer 
 never hear of the possibility of having too much of a good thing? Or 
 does he suppose, with the late historian of Great Britain, that all 
 religion is divided into two species, the superstitious and the fanati- 
 cal; and that whatever is not one of these must of necessity be the 
 otherP 
 
Clergy of Durham, \75\. 235 
 
 face of religion whilst we keep it up. All this is indeed principallj 
 the duty of others. Yours is to press strongly upon them what is their 
 duty in this respect, and admonish them of it often, if they are neg- 
 ligent. 
 
 But then you must be sure to take care and not neglect that part 
 of the sacred fabrick which belongs to you to maintain in repair and 
 decency. Such neglect would be great impiety in you. and of most 
 pernicious example to others. Nor could you, with any success, or 
 any propriety, urge upon them their duty in a regard in which you 
 yourselves should be openly neglectful of it. 
 
 Bishop Fleetwood has observed,* that unless the good publii spirit 
 of building, repairing, and adorning churches prevails a great deal 
 mure among us, and be more encouraged, an hundred years will bring 
 to the ground an huge number of our churches. This excellent pre- 
 late made this observation forty years ago: and no one, I believe, will 
 imagine that the good spirit he has recommended prevails more at 
 present than it did then. 
 
 But if these appendages of the divine service are to be regarded, 
 doubtless the divine service itself is more to be regarded; and the 
 conscientious attendance upon it ought often to be inculcated upon 
 the people, as a plain precept of the Gospel, as the means of grace, 
 and what has peculiar promises annexed to it. But external acts 
 of piety and devotion, and the frequent returns of them are, more- 
 over, necessary to keep up a sense of religion, which the affairs of 
 the world will otherwise wear out of men's hearts. And the fre- 
 quent returns, whether of public devotions, or of any thing else, to 
 introduce religion into men's serious thoughts, will have an influence 
 upon them in proportion as they are susceptible of religion, and not 
 given over to a reprobate mind. For this reason, besides others, the 
 service of the church ought to be celebrated as often as you can have 
 a congregation to attend it. 
 
 But since the body of the people, especially in country places, can- 
 not be brought to attend it oftener than one day in a week, and since 
 this is in no sort enough to keep up in them a due sense of religion, 
 it were greatly to be wished they could be persuaded to any thing 
 which might, in some measure, supply the want of more frequent 
 public devotions, or serve the like purposes. Family prayers, reg= 
 ularly kept up in every house, would have a great good effect. 
 
 Secret prayer, as expressly as it is commanded by our Saviour, 
 and as evidently as it is implied in the notion of piety, will yet, I 
 fear, be grievously forgotten by the generality, until they can be 
 brought to fix for themselves certain times of the day for it; siiiee 
 this is not done to their hands, as it was in the Jewish Church by 
 custom or authority. Indeed, custom, as well as the manifest pro- 
 priety of the thing, and examples of good men in Scripture, justify 
 us in insisting, that none omit their prayers morning or evening, who 
 have not thrown off all regards to piety. But secret prayer compre- 
 hends not only devotions before men begin and after they have ended 
 the business of the day, but such also as may be performed while they 
 are employed in it, or even in company. And truly, if besides oar 
 
 • Charge to the Clergy of St. Asxph, 1710. 
 
236 Charge to the 
 
 more set devotions, morning and evening, all of us would fix upon cer- 
 tain times of the day, so that the return of the hour should remind 
 us to say short prayers, or exercise our thoughts in a way equivalent 
 to this, perhaps there are few persons in so high and habitual a state 
 of piety, as not to find the benefit of it. If it took up no more than a 
 minute or two, or even less time than that, it would serve the end I 
 am proposing; It would be a recollection that we are in the Divine 
 Presence, and contribute to our being in the fear of the Lord all the 
 day long. 
 
 A duty of the like kind, and serving to the same purpose, is the 
 particular acknowledgement of God when we are partaking of bis 
 bounty at our meals. The nr^glect of this is said to have been scan- 
 dalous to a proverb in the heathen world;* but it is without shame 
 laid aside at the tables of the highest and the lowest rank among us. 
 
 And as parents should be admonished, and it should be pressed 
 upon their consciences, to teach their children their prayers and cat- 
 echism, it being what they are obliged to upon all accounts, so it is 
 proper to be mentioned here, as a means by which they will bring the 
 principles of Christianity often to their own minds, instead of laying 
 aside all thoughts of it from week's end to we( " :'s end. 
 
 General exhortations to piety, abstracted from the particular cir- 
 cumstances of it, are of great use to such as are already got into a 
 religious course of life; but such as are not, though they be touched 
 with them, yet when they go away from cliurch they scarce know 
 where to begin, or how to set about what they are exhorted to. And 
 it is with respect to religion as in the common affairs of life, in which 
 many things of great consequence intended are yet never done at 
 all, because they may be done at any time, and in any manner; which 
 would not be, were some determinate time and manner voluntarily 
 fixed upon for the doing of them. Particular rules and directions, 
 then, concerning the times and circumstances of performing ac- 
 knowledged duties, bring religion nearer to practice; and such as are 
 really proper, and cannot well be mistaken, and are easily observed. 
 Such particular rules in religion, prudently recommended, would 
 have an influence upon the people. 
 
 All this indeed may be called form, as every thing external in re- 
 ligion may be merely so. And therefore whilst wi^ endeavor in 
 these, and other like instances, to keep up the form of godliness^ 
 amongst those who are our care, and over wh(»m we have any influ- 
 ence, we must endeavor also that this form be made more and more 
 subservient to the power of it.t Admonish them to take heed that 
 they mean what they say in their prayers, that their thoughts and in- 
 tentions go along v.ith their words, that they really in their hearts 
 exert and exercise before God the affections they express with their 
 mouth. Teach them, not that external religion is nothing, for this 
 is not true in an . sense; it being scarce possible but that it will lay 
 some sort of restrrjint upon a man's morals; and it is moreover of 
 good ettect with respect to the world about him. But teach them 
 
 • Cudworth on the Lord's Supper, page 8. Casauh in Athenaeum. L. i. c. xi. page 
 22. Duport Prxl. in Theophrastum Ed Needham, C »x. page 335, &c 
 
 t2Tim. iii. 5. 
 
Clergy of Durhmn^ 1751. 237 
 
 tiiat regard to one duty will in no sort atone for the neglect of any 
 other. Endeavor to raise in their hearts such a sense of God as shall 
 be an habitual, ready principle of reverence, love, gratitude, hope, 
 trust, resignation and obedience. Exhort them to make use of every 
 circumstance which brings the subject of religion at all before themj 
 to turn their hearts habitually to him; to recoUect seriously the 
 thoughts of his presence in whom they live and move and have their 
 being, and by a short act of their mind devote themselves to his ser- 
 vice. If, for instance, persons would accustom thetnselves to be 
 thus admonished by the very sight of a church, could it be 
 called superstition.^" Enforce upon them the necessity of making 
 religion their principal concern, as what is the express condition of 
 the gospel covenant, and what the very nature of the thing requires. 
 Explain to them the terms of that covenant of mercy, founded in 
 the incarnation, sacrifice and intercession of Christ, together with 
 the promised assistance of the Holy Ghost, not to supersede our 
 own endeavors, but to render them effectual. The greater festivals 
 of the church being instituted for commemorr^iMng the several parts 
 of the gospel history, of course lead you to explain these its several 
 doctrines, and shew the christian practice which arises out of them. 
 And the more occasional solemnities of religion, as well as tiiese fes- 
 tivals, will often afford you the fairest opportunities of enforcing all 
 these things in familiar conversation. Indeed all ajfectution of talk- 
 ing piously is quite nauseous; and though there be nothing of this, 
 yet men will easily be disgusted at the too great frequency or length 
 of these occasional admonitions. But a word of God and Rkli- 
 GioN dropped sometimes in conversation gently, and without any 
 thing severe or forbidding in the manner of it, this is not unaccept- 
 able. It leaves an impression, is repeated again by the hearers, and 
 often remembered by plain well disposed persons longer than one 
 would think. Particular circumstances too which render men more 
 apt to receive instruction, should be laid hold of to talk seriously 
 to their consciences. For instance, after a man's recovery from a 
 dangerous sickness, how proper is it to advise him to recollect and 
 ever hear in mind, what were his hopes or fears, his wishes and reso- 
 lutions when under the apprehension of death, in order to bnn^ him 
 to repentance, or confirm him in a course of piety, according as his 
 life and character has been. So likewise the terrible accidents 
 which often happen from riot and debauchery, and indeed almost 
 every vice, are occasions providentially thrown in 3'()ur way to dis- 
 course against these vices in common conversation, as well as from 
 the pulpit, upon any such accidents happening in your parish, or in a 
 neigiiboring one. Occasions and circumstances of a like kind te 
 some or other of these occur often, and ought, if I may so speak, to 
 be catched at, as opportunities of conveying instruction, both publie 
 and private, with great force and advantage. 
 
 Public instruction is also absolutely necessary, and can in no sort 
 be dispensed with. But as it is common to all w'ho are present, many 
 persons strangely neglect to appropriate what they hear to them- 
 selves, to their own heart and life. Now the only remedy for this 
 in our power is a particular personal application. And a personal 
 application makes a very different impression from a common, gen- 
 
238 Charge to the 
 
 eral one. It were therefore greatly to be wished, that every mau 
 should have the principles of Christianity, and his own particular 
 duty enforced upon his conscience, in a manner suited to his capa- 
 city, in private. And besides the occasional opportunities of doing 
 *his, some of which have been intimated, there are stated opportu- 
 nities of doing it. Such, for instance, is confirmation; and the 
 usual age for confirmation is that time of life, from which youth must 
 become more and more their own masters, when they are often leav- 
 ing their father's house, going out into the wide world and all its nu- 
 merous temptations; against which they particularly want to be for- 
 tified, by having strong and lively impressions of religion made upon 
 their minds. Now the sixty-first canon expressly requires, that every 
 minister that hath care of souls shall use his best endeavor to pre- 
 pare and make able — as many as he can to be confirmed; which can- 
 not be done as it ought without such personal application to each can- 
 didate in pai icular as I am recommending. Another opportunity 
 for doing this is, when any one of your parishioners signifies his 
 name, as intending for the first time to be partaker of the commun- 
 ion. The rubrick requires that all persons, whenever they intend to 
 receive, shall signify their names beforehand to the minister: which, 
 if it be not insisted upon in all cases, ought absolutely to be insisted 
 I'pon for the first time. Now this even lays it in your way to dis- 
 course with them in private upon the nature and benefits of this sacra- 
 ment, and enforce upon them the importance and necessity of reli- 
 gion. However, 1 do not mean to put this upon the same foot with 
 catechising youth and preparing them for confirmation: these being 
 indispensable obligations, and expressly commanded by our canons. 
 This private intercourse with your parishioners preparatory to their 
 first communion, let it. if you please, be considered as a voluntary 
 service to religion on your part, and a voluntary instance of docility 
 on theirs. I will only add as to this practice, that it is regularly 
 kept up by some persons, and particularly by one, whose exemplary 
 behaviour in every part of the pastoral office is enforced upon you 
 by his station of authority and influence in (this part* especially of) 
 the diocese. 
 
 1 am very sensible, my brethren, that some of these things, in pla- 
 ces v;liere they are greatly wanted, are impracticable from the large- 
 ness of parishes, suppose. And where there is no impediment of 
 this sort, yet the performance of them will depend upon others, as 
 well as upon you. People cannot be admonished or instructed in 
 private, unless they will permit it. And little will you be able to do 
 in forming the minds of children to a sense of religion, if their pa- 
 rents will not assist you in it; and yet much less, if they will frus- 
 tra^e-your endeavors, by their bad example, and giving encourage- 
 ment to their children to be dissolute. The like is to be said also of 
 your inftuence in reforming the common people in general, in pro- 
 portion as their superiors <ict in like manner to such parents; and 
 whilst they, the lower people I mean, must have such numerous 
 temptations to drunkenness and riot every where placed in their 
 "/ay. And it is cruel usage we often meet with, in being censitieri 
 
 ' The Ari^Mencfjnry of Nortbr.tnTjerlani. 
 
Clergy of Durham, 1751. 239 
 
 for not doing what we cannot do, without, what we cannot have, 
 the concurrence of our censurers. Doubtless very much reproach 
 which now lights upon the clergy would be found to fall elsewhere, if 
 due allowances were made for things of this kind. But then we, my 
 brethren, must take care and not make more than due allowances for 
 them. If others deal uncharitably with us, we must deal impartiallj 
 with ourselves, as in a matter of conscience, in determining what good 
 is in our power to do; and not let indolence keep us from setting 
 about what really is in our power, nor any heat of temper create ob- 
 stacles in the prosecution of it, or render insuperable such as we 
 find, when perhaps gentleness and patience would prevent or over- 
 come them. 
 
 Indeed all this diligence to which I have been exhorting you and 
 myself, for God forbid I should not consider myself as included in 
 ail the general admonitions you receive from me; all this diligence in 
 these things does indeed suppose that we ^ive ourselves wholly to 
 them. It supposes, not only that we have a real sense of religion 
 upon our own minds, but also, that to promote the practice of it in 
 others is habitually uppermost in our thought and intention, as the 
 business of our lives. And this, my brethren, is the business of our 
 lives, in every sense, and upon every account. It is the general bu- 
 siness of all Christians as they have opportunity; it is our particular 
 business. It is so, as we have devoted ourselves to it by the most 
 solemn engagements; as according to our Lord's appointment we 
 live of the gospel:* and as the preservation and advancement of reli- 
 gion, in such and such districts, are, in some respects, our appropri- 
 ated trust. 
 
 By being faithful in the discharge of this our trust, by thus talcing 
 heed to the ministry we have received in the Lord that we fulfil i<,t 
 we shall do our part towards reviving a practical sense of religion 
 amongst the people committed to our care. And this will be the se- 
 curest barrier against the efforts of infidelity; a great source of 
 which plainly is, the endeavor to get rid of religious restraints. But 
 whatever be our success with regard to others, we shall have the ap- 
 probation of our consciences, and may rest assured that, as to our- 
 selves at least, our labor is not in vain in the Lord.\ 
 
 • 1 C«r. ix l+. t *«*• '^' '^* t 1 Cor. xv, 58. 
 
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