i ^./d.o-^ Srom f ^c Eifirari? of (profefifior ^atnuef (gtifPer in pernor)? of 3w^5e ^amuef (giifPer QBrecftinrtbge 1 1 1 to t^e fei6mrg of \ ^rinceton J^eofo^icaf ^eminarj >• 1 770'^ y ' 9 'jl^ Oii^^t^ ^^ ^. 2>c^-^^'u^jZ<. r c4Uj/ ^:^^'-<>^J. — t~ (fiyli''-^ O^^^i^C-C^'T^'i^t^ c^ c<'*-iiA^ /•/ /-/t-c^ /^ /^ t^c-^ (yif^ Ct^J?t. "^^^ Ctfu ^u^^^^t^ffv^ {,/' a^t^i^*^^) /f r^ CA'''^^^ r y^ u Digitized by tine Internet Archive in 2011 witii funding from Princeton Theological Semhary Library http://www.archive.org/details/threelettersondiOOosgo THREE LETTERS, DIFFERENT SUBJECTS: TO JOHN B. ROMEYN, D. D. »0IKT1N<; OUT WHEREIN THE AUTHOr's VIEWS OF PROPHECIES ARE DIFFERENT FROM THOSE OF THE DOCTOr's, AS THEY ARE CONTAINED IN TWO SERMONS OF HIS, PREACHED ON A FAST DAY, AT ALBANY, SEPT»8, 18.08. TO ISAAC OSGOOD, Esq. A REVIEW OF Locke's chapter on power, and edwards on THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL. m. TO THE REV. AMZI ARMSTRONG. ALVINISTS ARE NOT IN EVERY THING CORRECT, BECAUSE THEY DISAGREE AMONG THEMSELVES IN SOME THINGS THAT ARE VERY IMPORTANT. BY SAMUEL OSGOOD, A. M. A. A. S. PUBUSIIED BY SAMUEL WHITING & CO J. Seymour, print. 1811. B. DisirirJ of K^iV'7'ark, ^s. >E IT RCMEMBEUED. That on the ei^hteoith day oi M^rciu iti the tlnity-fiMi yur of the Ud^pntknc; of tl^e Unitctl Statei of Am-irica, SAMUF.I. OSGOOD, of the snid district, h.ith de|)osited in thi« oflBce, the title of a book, tlic right whereor he cl.-iims ^s author, iii the words and figures follouffng, to wit : '* Three Letter* on differmt subject! I I. To John B. Rome>Ti,D.D. Pointing out wherein tho Author'i view.* '* of Proiihecies are different fiomtimacol the Doctor'^, a« they are contained hi two sermons of his, i^re-idwd una fa>t- *' day, at Albany, Sept. «. I'JOB. U. To Isaac Osfcood, Eiquitc A R*vie* of Locke's Chapter on Pow*r, and Ed- *" wardson the F'reedom of the Will. lit. To the Rev. Ainzi Armstrong. Cilvinisti are not in every thing correct, ^' because they disigice Among themselves in some thingi tKH are very imi>ort3nt. By SAMUEL OSGOOD, AM. A. AS." In conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United titites, ntitled " An Act for tS* (yic.jur,iK«mnit of learning, by securing the copies of mapi, chirtf, an-l boom, to the aiiihora wid i>roprietort "( such copiea, during the times therein mentioned." And ^tlso, to An Act. entitled " An Act, . t!.e authoi> and jiroprietora of such fopiea, dunnjs the Hmea therein mentiftj-d, and itxtending the b«efiu iheiouf to the arts uf dcjigning. engraving, and cvhiog, historical i»i CKiiej- priota." CHARLES CI.TNTON, Clerf: of f/.? Distrit-t of Kfrv-l'o^k^ PREFACE. HE author of the following expositions of prq- pheoy, does not expect to gain any credit by making thcra public. Scenes of such magnitude have passed so rapidly before our eyes within the last twenty years, that we may well be astonished, when wc take a retro- spective view of them. The author is of opinion, that in the succeeding twenty or thirty years, events of still greater magnitude will take place. He may be incor- rect ; and if so, time will make it manifest. The ex- positions are intended more especially for those that may follow after us. After the following sheets on prophecy were struck off, a friend asked the author what meaning ought to be affixed to the following words : — «< The temple of the tabernacle of the testimony in heaven was open- ed." Rev. XV. 5. He said, that from these words, in connexion with what followed them, he inferred, that none of the vials had yet been poured out. This infer- ence, to a plain English reader, may be very natural. The whole passage is as follows : — « And after that I looked, and behold, the temple of the tabernacle of the testimony in heaven was opened. And the seven angels came out of the temple, having the seven plagues, clothed in pure and white linen, and having their breasts girded with golden gh'dles. And one of the four living creatures gave unto tlie se- ven angels seven golden vials full of the wrath of IV Cod, who liveth for ever and ever. And the temple was filled with smoke from the glory of God, and from his power; and no man was ahle to enter into the tem- ple, till the seven plagues of the seven angels were fulfilled." This temple, we apprehend, is the archetype of that which we find described in Exodus, c. 40. into which Moses was not able to- enter, because the cloud abode thereon ; and the glory of the Lord filled the taberna- cle. We find, in 2 Sam. with what solemnity David brought the ark into the city of David. It is called ** the ark of God, whose name is called by the name of the Lord of hosts." By the seven angels I understand celestial beings. The temple of the tabernacle, therefore, may have been opened in heaven, at the commencement of the pouring out of the vials ; and it is plainly implied, that men will enter into the temple, after the seven plagues of the seven angels are fulfilled. Of course, it may be inferred, that it is the millennial temple. We have not- seen the temple of the tahernacle opened ; tlterefore the vials have none of them as yet been poured out, is, in my humble opinion, extremely incorrect reasoning. ** The temple of the tabernacle was opened." When was it opened ? How, and where was it opened ? It is said, that the seven angels came out of it, and re- eeived the vials of wrath from one of the four living creatures ; therefore it must have been opened, before they began to be poured out. We grant all this : but this concession will not warrant the inference, that it must be opened visibly to us, before any of the vials are poured out. I have endeavoured to show, in the expositions, that the four living ereaiures intend pious Christians on earth, distinguished by the term /our, because they lived in four distinctly different tyrannical monarchies. It will naturally be asked, How could these pious Christians, or one set of them, give to the angels the vials of wrath ? We answer in the words of St. James, V. 16. " The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much. Elias was a man subject to like passions as we arc ; and he prayed earnestly that it might not rain, and it rained not on the earth by the space of three years and six mouths. And he prayed again, and the heaven gave rain, and the earth brought forth her fruit. Brethren, if any of you do err from the truth, and one convert him, let him know, that he who converteth the sinner from the error of his way, shall save a soul from death, and shall bide a multi- tude of sins." Heb. 1. 13. *< But to which of the angels said he at any time, sit on my right hand, until I make thine ene- mies thy footstool : are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation ?" Rev. viii. 2. " And 1 saw the seven angels whicli stood before God, and to them were given seven trum- pets. And another angel came and stood at the altar, having a golden censer ; and there was given unto him much incense, that he should offer it with the prayers of all the saints upon the golden altar which was before the throne. And the smoke of the incense, which came with the prayers of the saints, ascended up be- fore God out of the angel's hand," It will be remarked here, tliat it is not said that one of the living creatures gave the seven trumpets to the seven angels. And we think that tliis reason may be given, why it is not expressly said that any one of them gare the trumpets, is, that the trumpets embrace the whole period of the four living creatures. The seven vi- als embrace the period of one living creature only. But how did this one living creature give to the angels the vials full of the wrath of God ? The answer, we appre- hend, must be, that the fervent prayers of pious Chris- tians, for the downfall of Papism, Mahometanism, and every Atheistical andDeistical superstition, were heard : and these prayers of the saints ascended up before God, out of the angel's hand. Now, in the twelfth and thir- teenth centuries, as well as every succeeding century, fervent prayers have been offered up for the abolition of all superstition, by a vast number of pious Chris- tians. We make a further observation. Greek verbs have more tenses or times, than the Latin, or any modern languages have. And it is highly improbable, that any one but a native Grecian ever knew how to make use of these times, in the precise manner that the Greeks did. There are tenses or times in Greek verbs, called indefi- nites, or aorists, from their signifying an uncertaia time. A learned author says of the first and second aorist, " Though they seem to have the same significa- tion, yet it is highly probable they were not indifferent- ly used by those among the Greeks who spoke their lan- guage with the greatest purity and propriety ; as the two pluperfects in the indicative, the two imperfects and pluperfects in the subjunctive, in French, are pro- miscuously used by foreigners, but not by the French themselves, when they speak with accuracy and pro- priety." To apply these observations, we observe, that the Knglish verb ** were opened,^* Rev. xv. 5. is, in Greek, an indefinite verb, second aorist, passive. vu "We now produce apassaeje to shew that such verbs ia Greek do not precisely mean past, present, or future time. Matt, xxvii. 60, 51, 52. "Jesus, when he had cried again with a loud voice, jielded up the Gliost : and, be- hold, the vail of the temple was rent in twain, from th» top to the bottom, and the earth did quake, and the rocks rent, and the graves were opened, and many dead bodies of the saints arose." There can be no doubt, that a plain English reader would say, that all these events were, in point of time, immediately connected with Jesus* yielding up the Ghost. The fact, however, is otherwise : for the 53d verse says, " and came out of tlieir graves after his re- surrection." The verb here <* were opened,** is from the same root as that in Rev. xv. 5. but it is in the first indefinite time passive : and why it is so, I presume no one of the present age can inform us. These indefinite verbs are very frequently made use of in the New Testament, where the subject treated of is very important to the inquisitive mind. "We will ad- duce only two or three examples. Luke xxiiL 43. " And Jesus said unto him, verily, I say unto thee to-day, thou shalt be with me in paradise.** Here the Greek verb translated thou shalt be, is disput- able with grammarians, both as to voice and tense. "We find, John xx. 17. " Touch me not, for I am not yet as- cended to my Father." These words Jesus spake to Mary, after his resurrection. 1 P. iii. 19. " He went and preached unto the spirits in prison.'* The Greek participle translated " h« went,*' is indefinite, as to time. I will make but a single obser\'ation more, which is. VIU that I am determined to avoid controTcrsy ; and that no notice will be taken of any strictures that may be made on any of the three letters, except by confessing the errors I may have fallen into, when I clearly per- ceive them to be errors. TO JOHN B. ROMEYN5 D.D. KEV. SIR, In addressing the following letter to you personal- ly, I presume I shall not transgress against any rule of politeness. As an eminent evangelical Minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, 3^our public ministra- tions, and parochial assiduities, command my affec- tionate esteem and respect. In a very short time, they have, by the blessing of God, been made suc- cessful in this City, beyond the most sanguine ex- pectation. May you long have the inexpressible satisfaction of being a witness to the efficacy of Gos- pel grace, and that faith which purifieth the heait, worketh by love, and overcometh the world. I have lately perused, with attention, two Sermons delivered by yourself in the Presbyterian Church in the city of Albany, on a day of fasting, humiliation, and prayer, recommended by the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the United States, to be observed Thursday, Sept. 8, 1808. In these sermons, exclusive of many other serious and im- portant matters, you have brought into view the pre- sent momentous aspect of the world, more especial- ly as to two quarters of the globe ; and you ha^e supposed, that many characteristic descriptions in the prophecies plainly have reference to the present time ; and that some severe judgments, prophetical- ly denounced, are in part executed, and in due course of execution. I do not propose to enter into an examination of your explanations of prophecy, but simply to give my own ideas of some of the prophecies. The truth, and not refutation, is all I am in pursuit of. My plan will lead me to a general view of the pro- phecies which more particularly respect wicked tem- poral powers. Within a few years past, several au- thors have given us voluminous works on the pro- phecies ; and there is some probability, that increas- ed attention will produce much more than has hitherto appeared. From what I have collected in conversing with intelligent Christians, I am persuad- ed that very few will undertake to read two large octavo volumes on the prophecies ; and no professed author of late appears short of two such volumes. It has occurred to me, that in a pamphlet of a hun- dred pages, the land-marks, the great leading and important features of prophecy, may all be contained, especially such as respect great temporal and wicked powers. And if so, the important descriptions of pro- phecy, being laid nearer together, the reader's me- mory will better enable him to compare one thing with another. The study of prophecy is, perhaps, one of the most aiduous and difficult that a man caii engage in. I Patience and perseverance in investigating, storing up a great variety of historic facts in the memory, and reflecting on them for a long time, and ver\- care- fully comparing them, are essential requisites in a student of God's word, which gives us a narrative of facts long before the}- had any existence. If ever it were a duty incumbent on the Ministers of the Gospel, it is in an especial manner so at this time, to adhere to St. Paul's fixed resolution — " I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified." 1 Cor. ii. 2. The words of our Saviour, Matt. xxiv. 38, 39, are very solemn indeed ; and, in the course of forty years, I do not recollect that I e^er heard any Minis- ter take them as his text, and discourse upon them — " For as in the days that were before the flood, " they were eating and drinking, marrying and giv- " ing in marriage, until the day that Noah entered " into the ark, and knew not, until the flood came '' and took them all away : so shall also the co7ning " of the Son of Man he.'''' The first part of this text is a plain narrative of facts ; and if the last part be not so also, it is a solitary exception to a rule laid do^vn by able and eminent expositors, which is, that the meaning of words is to be ascertained from their connexion with other words. The coming of the son of man must therefore be a literal coming, other- wise the rule does not here hold. In order that the reader may know why I address this Letter to voii, I will here make several extracts from your sermons, without which, he would remain in ignorance. One thing I know to be a fact ; they are not made with any pohtical view whatever. If in my views of prophecy I am incon-ect, I shall be extremely obliged to you to point out the error ; being persuad- ed that you would do it with Christian candour — that you would reason, and not rail. Page 12. " We are indubitably in that period '* which is called in Scripture, * the last days,' and " drawing near to ihe end thereof. The three great " monai'chies, the Babylonian, Persian, and Grecian, " mentioned by Daniel, have, in succession, disap- " peared from the theatre of the world, and made " way for the Roman, which is the fourth, and still " exists, though broken or divided into various " parts by the irruption and establishment of the " northern Barbarians within its extensive borders. *' These parts, or kingdoms, were originally ten, " according to the prophecies of Scripture, and the " particular account of historians. Without enu- " merating them, suffice it to say, they possessed that " range of territory which now includes Spain, Por- " tugal, France, Switzerland, Germany south of the " Danube, Hungary, Italy, Britain, Belgium, and " Holland. From amongst these ten kingdoms, the " spiritual empire of the Church of Rome has " arisen, which Daniel predicted under the emblem " of the little horn of the fourth beast ; and ^^ hich " John saw as a two-horned beast rising out of the *' earth. This grand apostasy, we are informed, is " to last for a time, times, and the dividing ol" time : *' which is the same with forty-two prophetic " months, or twelve hundred and sixty prophetic " da}s, answering, according to common ealciila- *' tion, to so many years. If we date its commence- *' ment from the year 606, when Phocas, Emperor '' of Constantinople, constituted Boniface, the Bi- '' shop of Rome, Universal Bishop, or Supreme ■ ' Head in spiritual matters ; or from the year 756, " when Pepin made a grant of the Exarchate of Ra- '' venna, and of a district of country along the Adri- " atic, called Pentapolis, to the Pope, by which he " became a temporal prince, it is evident, that we " are not far from the end of the whole period. " This grand apostasy — this spiritual empire of •■' Rome, is pre-eminently infamous for the crimes " it has originated, committed, defended, nay, in '' which it has gloried. The records of a brothel *' would be chaste, and the annals of robbers guilt- " less, when compared with the history of this pre- '' tended Church of Christ.'' Three notes in the appendix are applicable to this passage. 1. " Vitringa thinks that the 24th, 25th, 26th, " and 27th chapters of Isaiah, were partly accom- " plished in the time of the Maccabees, in those of " the Apostles, that of Constantine, and at the refor- " mation from Popery ; but that they will be more " amply fulfilled in the latter day glory, when Anti- '^ Christ shall be destroyed, Rome laid in ashes, and " the Dragon cast into the bottomless pit. He con- *' siders the enemies of the Church, in the times of *' the Maccabees, as typical of the popish adversa- " ries ; and that, therefore, her deliverance in the one " period, was typical of her deliverance in the other." 2. " Thus the Angel told Daniel, chap. vii. 24. " and one of the seven angels, John. Mev. xvii. 2. " Several interpreters have attempted a list of these " kingdoms, for M^hich see Faber's dissertation, Vol. " I. p. 179. 2d edit. Lon. In some of the cata- '^' logues, the dukedom of Ravenna is included. " This, as it never was an independent kingdom, " cannot be meant, as Faber shows in the place ^' above quoted. In others, the Vandals ; and in " others, the Saracens of Africa are mentioned : but " neither of these supported the first beast in its " idolatry and persecution of the true Church; and " yet it is expressly said, the ten kings gave their " power and strength to the beast. Hev. xvii; 13. " Lowman supposes, from the use which is made of " ten in prophetic language, to denote several ; that " there is no necessity for finding the precise num- " ber of te?t kingdoms erected on the ruins of the " Roman empire ; but only of several, which is fact; " and this fact is a memorable event of providence, " and a distinguishing mark of this period of pro- " phecy. 3. " Faber, in his dissertation on the prophecies, " appears to me to have satisfactorily shown, that " the tiuo horned beast is the spiritual empire ol* " Rome, as distinct from the ten horned beast, which " is the temporal Roman empire in its idolatrous and " persecuting state. Bishop Newton supposes this " spiritual empire commenced in the year 727, when " the dukedom of Ravenna became the property of " the Roman Pontiff. He mentions other memor- " able instances in the eic:hth centurv. The two '' aeras mentioned in the discourse, are supported by " the strongest arguments. Time alone can deter- '' mine the true one." Page 14. " The City of Rome itself, it is proba- " ble, will literally be burned with fire from the " bowels of the earth, and sink, like a millstone, with " all its inhabitants, never to rise. The spiritual " empire of the Pope will be destroyed with cir- " cumstances of uncommon violence ; for saith the " angel to John, ' The ten horns which thou sawest " upon the beast, these shall hate the whore, and *' shall make her desolate and naked, and shall eat " her flesh and burn her with fire.' She will be " overtaken with the Lord's indignation in a time '' of carelessness, gayety, and security, as ancient " Bab} Ion w'as. Her followers will rejoice and be " merry, and send gifts to each other, at the slaying '' of the witnesses; but in three days and a half, a " short time, the witnesses will rise, and then the *' kingdoms of this world, shall become the king- " doms of our Lord and of his Christ. When she "'^ saith, I sit a queen, and am no widow, and shall 8 " see no sorrow ; then shall her plagues come in one " day, death, and mourning, and famine. " Though her final destruction shall thus be sud- " den or in a very short time, yet preparations for it " will be making many years previous. These " seem to have begun. History produces no paral- " lei to the events now passing on the theatre of ac- " tion. The indignation of the Lord began in " France — It has marched in awful majesty over " Germany — It has fallen with tremendous force on " Northern Italy — It has overwhelmed Switzer- " land and Holland : and now, like a tempest, is " beating on Spain and Portugal. The seat of the " wars which have sprung from the French Revolu- " tion, have been chiefly in Germany and Italy ; and *' what places have been more devoted to the grand " apostasy than these and France, if we except " Spain and Portugal? In France, what blood has " been spilt ! what massacres and cruelties perpe- " trated for the interests of superstition ! Nor has " Germany or Italy been behind-hand. And as " for Spain, I need only remark, that there the *' merciless inquisition has reigned dominant for " years. In all these nations the followers of Jesus " have been persecuted ; his heritage has been op- ** pressed. And of the monarchs who engaged in " this work, the family of Capet, especially that " branch of it which is called the house of Bourbon " and the house of Austria, have been foremost. " Tyrants they have been to the people of the Most 9 ** High : now, in their turn, they are made to eat thfi " fruit of their doings. — Now God is requiring, at ^' their hands, the blood they have iniquitously shed. *' Let none imagine that I justify the conduct of the " revolutionary leaders of France who beheaded " their king, and drove his connexions from the " country ; or, of the scourge of God, who has " crippled by fraud and violence the house of Aus- " tria. Like Sennacherib, they have been the rods " of Jehovah's anger. But no thanks to them ; they " meant not so. Because they are the instruments " of God's vengeance, we are not to defend them *' in their iniquity. As well might a Jew in the days ** of Hezekiah, have said of Sennacherib, that it was *' in vain to oppose him, for he was raised up to " punish the nations, as any one in the present day " may say so of the furious the insolent, the unprin- " cipled oppressor of Europe. Nay, more ; if it be " correct to put no hindrances in his way, but, on *' the contrary, to favour his plans, because we think " he is marching in a course prescribed by God, " the witnesses to the truth, \vho opposed the grand " apostasy for 1260 years, were guilty of a crime. *' But no, they were riglit : and so are they right, " who now stand in the breach to defend their pri- " vileges, and their very existence against destruc- " tion. We know not the secret will of God, but? " must be guided by his revealed \vord. To say *' that this bids us to countenance fraud, robberv;, 10 " and murder, is blasphemy ; it is an outrage on " the God of Heaven. The iniquity of the offend- " ing nation does not justify the iniquity of the " punishing' instrument. Because England, or " Spain, or other nations, may have transgressed the " i lb of righteousness, Napoleon is not innocent ** when he transgresses them. Who, then, can de- " fend his conduct, who, without a warrant, with no " commission but his success, sports with the rights " of independent sovereignties ; exacts tribute from '* nations not his own ; and says to this king, Go, " and he goeth ; and to that, Come, and he cometh? " It were madness to attempt it on religious or moral *' grounds. " But this modern Attilla, this scourge of God, is " permitted also to afflict the protestant countries of " Switzerland, Holland, Prussia, and the protestant " principalities of Germany, Whence is this? " Have not these countries come out from the midst " of mystical Babylon by their reformation ? Yes, *' they have in part, but not entirely. Nominally, " Holland, as a nation, was on the side of truth, and " her sons long displayed its purity in theory and " practice. But, for yeai*s, the way has heen pre- " paring for her present state. Infidelity and luke- " v/armness had crept into her borders, infected " her great men, and poisoned the very springs of " her religious existence. The principles of the " Man of Sin are so incorporated with the political <* institutions, the habits, the relations of the Euro- n •' ]5eaii world, that when he is punished, protestants " cannot wliolly escape. They, however, share in " the general visitation, according to their rightcous- " ness or wickedness. " But one power opposes him, and that is Britain. ** He harasses licr, he vexes her, and disturbs her " peace with other nations ; but he cannot, as yet, " subdue. Her government is indeed stained witli " crimes : but I would say to those subjects of other " governments, who are continually clamouring " against these crimes, as Christ said to the persons " who brought the adultress to him, let that govern- *' ment which is innocent, cast the first stone. If " her's be bad, theirs are no better. She has to an- " swer for much blood of protestants unrighteously " spilt under the Stuart family ; but ^ve hope the " expulsion of that deluded family, and the establish- '^ ment of a toleration, since the revolution, have " wiped away her guilt. " Many augur favourably from the stand which " the Spanish Patriots are making ; hoping thatj " through their means, liberty will be once more rc- *' stored to the sovereignties of Europe. I most *' fervently wish them success, but fear the issue. " Let it be remembered, that Spain has been one " of the nations most devoted and infatuated in its " attachment to the Man of Sin ; and even now she " glories in his impious principles, confidently ap- " pealing for success to a sinful worm of the earth, " whom they worship as a goddess — I mean the 12 " Virgin Mar}'. It is here that the inquisition has " reigned Avith unlimited power since the year " 1484 ; and the most degrading antichristian su- *' perstitions have been pertinaciously cherished. *' For her cruelties and blasphemies, this nation has " never yet been visited. " If they, (the Spanish patriots,) are subdued, he " who subdues them, with but few exceptions, per- " haps only Africa and Great-Britain, will be master *■' of the same countries which formerly constituted *' the western Roman empire. He may be consider- " ed, strit tly, as the successor of Charlemagne, ■■' whose title and rank as Emperor of the West, has " descended down through the Emperors of Germa- " ny, by virtue of their title as king of the Romans ; " and their possessions in Italy, to the present Em- *' peror of Austria, who relinquished both. To him " the French Emperor has succeeded, as king of " Italy, being crowned with the iron crown of Char- " lemagne. In this character, according to a modern " writer, (Faber,) on the prophecy, whose opinion " on this subject I cordially embrace, we see in him " tlie eighth head of the Roman beast, which is of " the seven, and began with Charlemagne, whose " patriciate was the seventh, and lasted but a short " time, giving way to his imperial authority, which *•' was the eighth. By one of the Emperors of this •' line, it seems, the witnesses, of whom we shall " presently speak, are to be slam, and the Roman '' hierarchy established Avith additional splendour '' and power ; thou a;h only for a little while. Whe- 13 " ther he who now fills the throne, or the dynast}' *' he has placed upon it, in one of its future mem- *' bers, will be the agent, Me know not. Let us for •' a moment attend to the following particulars : after " which I shall offer a few explanatory remarks on '* the witnesses and their death. " 1. The witnesses commenced their testimony " with the rise of the grand apostasy. They i\rc to be " slain when their testimony is just finished; which " will be towards the end of 1260 years, the period " of the grand apostasy. If that be near its close, ** their death cannot be far off. Either the present " generation, or that which succeeds it, will proba- " bly see the doleful period. *' 2. The Catholic superstition, in all its disgust- " ing features, is restored in France by the Emperor, " and is intimately iuid inseparably connected with " his authority. In a catechism published under the " sanction of Napoleon, for the use of the Churches " in his dominions, it is said, he is become the " anointed of the Lord, by the consecration which " he has received from the chief Pontiff, head of the " universal Church. In this same work, the doc- " trines of transubstantiation, purgatory, indulgen- " ces, and other absurdities and falsehoods, are " taught. Duty to empire is placed along side of " duty to Church ; and the deduction is, no one can " be a good subject, who is not a good Catholic. " Every nerve is exerted to restore the popular re- " verence for relics, and all the mummery of the Man " of Sin, among a people not long back professed " atheists. 14 " 3. A Popish Cardinal is appointed by Napo- " leon to be the chief of the Church over all the ^' congregations in the Rhenish Confederation ; and " he has actually been acknowledged as such by all '* the protestant princes. I'he protestant clergy are " constrained to lay aside the dress they have hitherto " worn, and adopt mass- weeds. A great number of " catholic mass-books have been printed in the Ger- " man language, which are divided into hours of " prayer, and which are now actually read before " preaching at the altar in the protestant Churches " on the frontiers. According to accounts from that " quarter, the late apostasy of religion in France and " elsewhere, is universally attributed to the want of " respect for the Pope. " 4. Napoleon has constituted a professedly po- " pish government over Holland, Switzerland, and " the Rhenish Confederation. The religion of Rome " is the court religion of almost all the ancient ten " kingdoms. " These circumstances combined, strengthen the " conjecture, that the family now seated on tlie im- " perial throne, will be the agents for slaying the " witnesses and re-establishing m Europe the grand *' apostasy. " By the witnesses are meant faithful Christians in " general — all the true followers of Jesus Christ, as " distinct from apostates and false professors. This " is evident from the name given them of, * the two " candlesticks and the two olive trees, which stand *' before the God of the whole earth ;* in which allu- 15 " sion is made to a prophetic vision of Zechariah. '* They are said to be two in niimlicr, because that is " the number required in the bw and approved by " tlie Gospel. " No calamity has yet befallen the true Church " by the hands of the Man of Sin, the son of perdi- " tion, which answers in a satisfactory manner to the *' symbolical representation of slaying the two uit- '' nesses. The faithful followers of Jesus, who arc " meant by them, have never yet generally, through- " out the western empire, at any one period, ceased " from their testimony against the grand apostasy. " They have visibly existed as witnesses for the " truth, in one part, if they have been destroyed in " another : and yet an universal destruction of them •' seems to be meant. This cannot be a destruction " of their civil privileges, nor a deprivation of the " existence which they formerly had as members of " society ; for their characters of witnesses, and their ** work of prophesying, relates not to political, but to " spiritual matters. ** The witnesses still prophecy in sackcloth ; that " is, the true Church is still in a suffering depressed " state. Even where protestant principles are pro- " fessed, the ways of Zion mourn, through the uni- '' versid prevalence of essential errors, of studied in- ^' difference to the truth as it is in Jesus, and of gross " immorality. The very spirit of tlie Man of Sin " too much pervades and animates the communities " which have Aisibly separated from him. Many of 16 " his superstitious rites are retained with pertinacity " by some of them ; and he himself is no longer " viewed as the son of perdition, even the wicked " one, whom the Lord will consume with the spirit " of his mouth. The true Church is evidently, *' therefore, still held in bondage ; the witnesses still, ** therefore, prophecy in sackcloth. If th&y have " been slain, they have not yet been raised ; for their " death will be, not only the last persecution of pro- *^ testants, but the last stage of their depression, " which will be followed by a glorious day for the '* true Church. The true Church will become do- " minant over her adversaries throughout their terri- " tories. " The witnesses, it is expressly said, will be slain, " not when they shall have finished their testimony, '* as we read, but when they shall draw near the close " of it. As they commenced their testimony with " the grand apostasy, so they run pai'allel to it in " time, and will be brought to * violent end, three " prophetic days and a half before its termination. " As many years, in all probability, will elapse before " this, half a century at least, with moral certainty " we may conclude, that the witnesses are still pro- " phesying in sackcloth. But as these years con- ** stitute a very small proportion of the whole num- " ber, 1260, the witnesses arc, strictly, drawing near " the close of their testimony. " Such are the chief grounds on which the opinion " rests, that the prophetic period, of A\hich we have 17 '* been speaking, is yet to come. It will be a period " of calamity, distress, impiety, ferocity, tyranny, " superstition, and gross ignorance — A period " darker than the middle ages ; for e^en then the " witnesses prophesied, though in sackcloth : but " now they will be dead, and their dead bodies will " lie unburied, to feast the malice of their foes — A " period in wliich the principles of civilization will " be destroyed by those of barbarian rudeness. " The state of society will be deplorable, both as it " respects intercourse between man and man, and " nation with nation. The bonds of union will be " dissevered ; the foundations of order torn up ; " and a lawless, unprincipled, and superstitious ty- " ranny, in church and state, will prevail ; not in one " nation, but throughout the spiritual Sodom and " Egypt — the mystical Babylon among all the ten " kingdoms which have given their power to the " beast." I make but a single observation more, which is, that I am persuaded your candour and goodness of heart will excuse me for my api^earing in a more methodical dress than is customary in unreserved epistolary' cwrespondenee. CHAPTER I, I T is impossible to form a correct and connected view of the prophecies, until we have satisfactorily arranged, in our own minds, the prophetic periods which we find recorded in the sacred Scriptures. The periods are unquestionably precise, regular, and connected, and have no double or treble application ; which idea some learned men having adopted, has been an occasion of their falling into great confusion and error. Wherever the sacred Scriptures give us a plain prophetic period, if profane chronology does not agree with it, the Scripture periods are to be strictly adhered to. 1. The prophetic periods which have relation to the Jewish dispensation, are precise, regular, and ex- plicit. The term year was made use of so as to em- brace summer and winter, seed time and harvest, without any concealed or mystical signification. And thus, though the solar year was not accurately known, that mode of reckoning could not, in any great period of time, make it vary from the true so- lar years contained in it. Thucidides informs us, that, in writing his history, he made his years seve- rally consist of one summer and one winter ; which method preserved the true solar year. The term year is frequently made use of in the Scriptures, and has been unanimously explained by all commen- 19 tators, (as a very learned investigator of prophetic periods asserts,) to mean a true solar year. The 400 years of the sojourning of Abraham's seed ; the 70 years embraced by the Babylonish captivity ; God's patience and forbearance to Israel for 390 years ; and to Judah for 40 years, and many other periods ex- pressed by the term year or years, have been so unanimously explained to mean so many solar years, and the completion of them so exactly coinciding witli this idea, must put the matter beyond dispute with all reasonable men. 2. It is confessed, that the Scriptures make use of terms that seem to be enigmatical, whereby great periods of time are unquestionably intended ; and oonvey an idea, that a day intends a year : and some have, I think, unreasonably decided, that, by the term day, a solar year is not intended. One instance alone entirely confutes this idea : and the Jews them- selves acknowledge it to be one of the most clear and explicit prophecies that is to be found in the Old Testament — which is Daniel's 70 weeks, which they expound of so many solar years to each week, as there are natural days in a common week. The period of time is here expressed in the supposed enigmatical language or words, whicli we shall fre- quently meet with in other passages of the Scrip- tures, expressing great periods of time. We, there- fore, conclude, that the supposed enigmatical terms, must always have the same precise ideas affixed to them ; for otherwise the prophecies would lead to endless uncertainty and confusion. The term day 20 being a standard term, yet having no precise mea- sure of duration, would render all attempts at com- putation fruitless and vain. The Christian Church has always contended earnestly for the construction put upon Daniel's 70 weeks by the Jews. It is one of the strong foundations of her faith. This pro- phecy being one of primary impoitance, imdisputed, and unquestioned, is undoubtedly a rule by which Ave must be guided in explaining the periods of time embraced by other prophecies delivered to us in similar supposed enigmatical language. 3. Some have supposed that there is a mystery in the terms time, times, and an half; 42 months, and 1260 days or years : and commentators, having ta- ken a liberty v/hich they had no right or ground for taking, have done an injury to prophecy, by making that dubious and uncertain which is clear and ex- plicit. The Jews, by the Levitical law, were ob- liged to observe natural days, weeks, months, and years. The eating of the paschal lamb, though it was to be celebrated once a year, yet from the eating of it in one year, to the eating of it in the next year, could not be precisely at the end of a solar year ; be- cause it was to be eaten at the time of a particular full moon. Ferguson says, " The Jews reckoned " their months by the moon, and their years by the *' revolution of the sun; and they ate the passover " on the 14th day of the month Nisan, which was " the first month in their year, reckoning from the " first appearance of the new moon, which at that " time of year might be on the evening of the day SI ' next after the change, if the sky was clear : so ' that their 14th day of the month answered to our ' 15th day of tlie moon, on which she is full : and * the full moon at which it was kept, was the one ' which happened next after the vernal equinox. For ' Josephus expressly says, Antiq. B. iii. C. 10. the ' pasbovcr was kept on the 14th day of the month * Nisan, according to the moon when the sun was in ' Aries. And the sun always enters Aries at the ' instant of the venial equinox, which, in our Sa- ' viour's time, fell on the 22d day of Miu-ch." If the Jews knew the precise time when the sun entered Aries, they must have known a solar year : and if they did not, they could not liave ascertained the full moon, when the passover ought to be eat. — The paschal year, though sometimes shorter and sometimes longer, yet, according to the method of eating the passover, the year always embraced seed- time and harvest, summer and winter, and no more nor less. We find, £x. xxiii. " And six years thou shalt " sow thy land, and shalt gather in the fruits thereof, *' but the seventh year thou shalt let it rest and lie " still, that the poor of thy people may eat. Three " times in a t/ear thou shalt keep a feast unto me. — " Thou shalt keep the feast of unleavened bread ; " the feast of harvest ; and the feast of ingathering " in the end of the year. Three times in a year all " thy males shall appear before the Lord God." In all these instances, the term year embraces a solar year, or is equivalent thereto upon an average. And it is my opinion, after investigating the matter with considerable attention, that where we find the term i/ear used in the Scriptures, it is always equi- valent to a solar year : and I find much more learned men than I am are of the same opinion. We have now stated the primary and common computation of time among the Jews. 4. Having pointed out the most common and usual method of computing time among the Jews, as established by the law of Moses, we now proceed to exhibit another method of keeping time among the Jews, established by the same law, not very religious- ly regarded by them, probably on account of a very avaricious disposition ; for they very improperly sup- posed, that God's holy law was injurious to their tem- poral interests. The account of this wise and bene- volent law of God, we find in Lev. xxv. Nothing that we find in any human constitutions, manifests more benevolence and tenderness for human nature in poverty and distress. *' Speak unto the children of Israel, and say unto " them, when ye come into the land which I shall '' give you, then shall the land keep a Sabbath unto " the Lord. Six years thou shalt sow the field, and " six years thou shalt prune thy vineyard, and gather *' in the fruit thereof ; but in tlie seventh year, shall *' be a sabbath of rest unto the land, a sabbath for " the Lord. Thou .shalt ncitlicr sow thy field, nor 23 prune thy vineyard ; that \\'hich gTowetfi of ics own accord of thy harN'est, thou shalt not reap, neither gather the grapes of thy vine undressed : for it is a year of rest unto the land. And the sabbath of the land shall be meat for )'.ju, for thee, and for thy servant, and for thy maid, and for thy hired ser- vant, and for thy stranger that sojourneth with thee, &c. And thou shalt number seven sabbaths of years unto thee, i^even times seven ijcarsy and the space of the seven sabbaths of years shall be unto thecjbrty and nine years. Then shalt thou cause the trumpet of the jubilee to sound on the tenth day of the seventh month, in the day of atone- ment, &:c. And ye shall hallow the fiftieth year, and proclaim liberty throughout all the land unto all the inhabitants thereof, &c. A jubilee shall the fiftieth year be unto you ; ye shall not sow, neither reap that which groweth of itself in it. Aixl if ye shall say, ^^'hat shall we eat the seventh year '? behold we shall not sow, nor gather in our in- crease : then I will command my blessing upon you in the sixth year, and it shall bring forth fruits for three years. And ye shall sow the eighth year, and eat yet of old fruit till the ninth year : until her fruits come in, ye shall eat of the old store." Here we have the ground-work for a new and dis- tinct kind of computation and reckoning oi time among the Jews. But if the Jews were unacquainted with any method of ascertaining a solar yQ-c\\\ it- would 24 follow, that God gave them a positive law which they could not possibly keep. This, however, it is pre- sumed, none will admit. Their sabbatical week of seven years^ if the year had been too short, would have retrogi'aded through all the seasons ; an absur- dity too gross to be advocated. The prophetic pe- riods are given to us precisely in this way of reck- oning; : and the first of the kind which the Jews could accurately notice, was Daniel's 70 weeks. If they , had been uncertain at the delivery of the prophecy, vet their doubts must have been removed in a short time, for 70 natural weeks are but a little more than a year and a half; at the end of which, nothing occur- red to the Jews corresponding with Daniel's prophetic predictions, they would then have naturally conclud- ed, that the weeks were to be taken as sabbatical weeks. Whether they made any such inference or not, it is well known that the Jews correctly under- stood, that the 70 weeks were 70 sabbatical weeks, or 490 years, each year including seed-time and harvest, summer and winter. And this was a good ground for the Jews to reckon all Daniel's prophetic periods in the same way. None of his predictions terminat- ed according to natural days, weeks, and years. If it be said, that in this sabbatical way of keeping time, the month is not mentioned as consisting of 30 days ; that is, 30 years, nor the year as consisting of 360 solar years ; and that, therefore, computing them thus is an unwarrantable assumption, we observe, that it is no assumption ; for the spirit of prophecy has so explained the month and the year ; having used indiscriminately, for the same periods of time, 1260 days, 42 months, and a time, times, and a half, or three years and a half. The sabbatical day and week being the ground- work of the computation of time, the day embraces a solar year, and the week seven of them, so mani- festly, that the only question that can arise is, why is the month made to consist of 30 solar years ? To this we answer further, that the Jews were, in the time of Moses, possessed of all the Egyptian astro- nomical knowledge ; and, if we believe what Hero- dotus says, the Eg}'ptian priests told him, they made their month consist of 30 days. Herodotus was in Egypt about 400 years before the Christian asra, when the priests told him, that the Egyptians, first of all nations, found out the year by the stars, dividing it into 12 parts, and making their months consist of 30 days : and at the end of the year, adding five days, to bring the seasons to the same point in the hesvens. We now know that this addition did not preserve the so- lar year correctly. We shall see more clearly here- after, that the prophetic month is precisely thirty so- lar years. Upon the whole, we think, that it is mani- fest, that Daniel's prophetic terms were clearly un- derstood by the Jews in the sense we have explained them : and they cannot be enigmatical to a Christian who believes in St. John's Revelation. One idea is of some importance to be kept in mind, which is, that when the prophetic periods were first delivered, 26 and for hundreds of years afterwards, it was suppos- ed, that the earth was the centre of the universe, and that the sun revolved round the earth from east to west, so as to make a complete revolution every day. This idea will be found essential in explaining one of the prophetic periods— where we find the term ^ear used for 360 years : and it is the only place in the Bible where we find it so used. It is, however, there so manifestly connected with other terms that re- quire and have always received an extended ex- planation, that the same construction has always been given, in this case, to the term 7/ear. It is frequent- ly the case, that the meaning of a term can only be found out by its connexion with other terms. 5. It being evident, that a day in prophetic chro- nology is the sign for a solar year, and that whether they be classed in sevens, thirties, or three hundred and sixties, they intend precisely as many years, con- sisting of summer and winter, seed-time and harvest, as the different denominations express. We now proceed to say, that the ambiguous mean- ing of prophecy never did consist in the enigmatical meaning of the terms made use of respecting the prophetic periods, but in the terms made use of to describe the characters of such empires or persons as were to appear during the time of the prophetic periods ; commencing with them, existing during their continuance, and ending with them. In die most famous prophecy of Daniel's seventy weeks, there was no enigma or concealed meaning in the prophetic period. The description of the cha- 27 racter of the person that was to appear at the end of the prophetic period, was not so clear and expli- cit, as to lead every, (perhaps conscientious,) man to the very person himself. The spirit of prophecy, in giving us a narrative of facts before they happened, might have made use of plain and unambiguous terms, which would have infallibly led all to fix on the very object that was precisely in the view of the same spirit. This was not done; we therefore infer, with certainty, that it never was intended to make use of such plain language, as to leave no doubt about the object really referred to. The cer- tain meaning of the phrases made use of in the his- toric narration of prophecy, are in many instances clearly and indubitably known to the spirit of pro- phecy only. But when God said in express words, that the Jews should serve the king of Babylon 70 years, and that after the 70 years they should be re- stored to their own land again, we need not seek for any other than the literal sense of the term years ; because there is nothing mystical in any of the words with which it is connected — as Babylon, Judah, and Captivity. But when we find, that the empire of Babylon was to have an end, and that after it was cut down, seve7i times were to pass over it, we have no doubt that the sense here is mystical ; not as to the terms seven tiiiesy which unquestionably mean 2520 years ; because Daniel invariably uses the term time for 360 years. Again; finding that time« and law were to be given into the hands of the little horii, imtil^ (not /or^ as some learned comm.eii- 28 tators inadvertently render the same,) a time, times^ and the dividing of time, (that is, half a time J the period itself having no express beginning, but only a mystical ending, is as enigmatical as the little horn itself; that is, the termination respects a certain time, times, and a half, whose beginning and ending is clearly expressed in another place. Not, therefore, knowing the beginning of the period, we are led to believe that the period itself is short of 1260 years. I|f, however, it were 1260 natural days, or three years and a half, we cannot conceive, that all that is ascrib- ed to the little horn, could be accomplished in three solar years and a half. We do not hesitate to think, that here the period and the character designed are mystical, and that the appearance of a character an- swering to the description, can alone unfold the mys- tical meaning of both. The commencement of the period can only be ascertained by the appearance of a character answering to the various characteristics given of it. The termination of the Dynasty of the little horn will be at the end of a certain period of 1260 years ; it will not exist 1260 years. Again, I find men are to be tormented by locusts for five months, but I cannot conceive, that they can accomplish all that is assigned to them in so short a period as half a year. The period is, therefore, pro- phetic and precise ; that is, 150 years. The charac- ter, till its appearance, was m}'stical. Again, I fhid that certain characters had assigned to tiiem a period of a year^ a nionth, a cfey, and an /war. From the descriptions of the characters, and 20 what they are to do, it is not possible to conceive that they could accomplish it in so short a period of time as a natural year, 8cc. Here, also, the period is pre- cise, and tiie mystery lies in the characters. The ap- pearance of the characters, alone can enable us to fix on the commencement of the period. 6. It was not the design of the spirit of prophecy to give us so plain and explicit a narrative of facts, before tlieir existence, as that all should know pre- cisely to wliat objects the narrative had a sole relation. We will adduce two more instances, where the term day is unquestionably used to signify a solar year.- - Num. xiv. 33. " Your childi-en shall wander in the wilderness 40 years : after the number of the days in which ye seai'chcd the land, even 40 days, each day for a year, shall you bear your iniquities, even 40 years." Also, Ezek. iv. 4, 5, 6. " Lie thou on thy left side, and lay the iniquity of the house of Israel upon it : according to the number of days that thou shalt lie upon it, thou shalt bear their iniquity ; for I have laid upon thee the years of their iniquity, according to the number of days, three hundred and ninety days : so shalt thou bear the iniquity of the house of Israel. And when thou hast accomplished them, lay again on thy right side, and thou shalt beai' the iniquity of the house of Judah forty days : I have appointed thee, (rrsttrboiN-rs^bc-i' a day for a year,) a day for a year." 7. Not one of the prophecies of Daniel, \^hosc periods were expressed by days or weeks, termi- nated according to the common acceptation of the 30 terms, but according to the sabbatical or jubiiee meaning of them. This idea is borrowed from an eminent Hebrician, as well as mathematician. He says, that " this argument is of all others the most *' important in this matter, and such, if it can be '' well proved, determines the dispute." He has clearly proved, that the period of the little horn, and of the 2300 days, have no relation to any abomina- tion set up by Antiochus Epiphanes in the temple at Jerusalem, if any credit is to be given to the Books of the Maccabees. Taking the day, week, or year, in their vulgar sense, he has fairly proved, that none of Daniel's prophetic periods terminated in this sense in particular, as to any profanation of the Jewish temple by Antiochus Epiphanes, But still he does not suppose, that any of Daniel's prophetic periods have terminated, except the 70 weeks. He con- cludes, very justly, that as many have applied almost all the important prophetic periods of time in Da- niel, to Antiochus Epiphanes, they limit the spirit of prophecy in an unreasonable and incredible man- ner, by applying them to three or four years of the reign of that insignificant, miserable wretch, Antio- chus Epiphanes, Avho is not particularly noticed in the book of Daniel. Such miserable contracted views of the prophetic periods, limiting th^ir com- pletion in the temple at Jerusalem, in the short space of three or four natural years, and that sometime pre- vious to the birth of our Saviour, is in contradiction of his express words, that the abomination of desolation, spoken of by Daniel, was to be set up in Jerusiilem, after his time. 31 Not more than one of Daniel's important prophe- tic periods, viz. the 70 weeks, has as yet terminated. Five, at least, and, I think, six, have not yet termi- nated. As temporal and tyrannical powers, under differ- ent heads, occupy a great part of Daniel's and John's prophecies ; as they are manifestly the measure of the period of time that is to be before jhe com- mencement of the millennium, we will introduce the passages of Scripture that respect these powers, in order to find who, and how many, there were to be. 1. We begin with the Babylonish empire. The prophecies respecting this empire, commence in the time of the Jewish captivity ; and in the year of the Jewish dispensation 1260, from the institution of the law of circumcision, the captivity commenced. This fact is demonstrable from the chronology of the Old Testament, and will be found to be ol great conse- quence, as it will enable us to preserve a regular series of prophetic chronology. A sketch of all the temporal monarchies that were to be till Christ's second advent, we find in Daniel U. 31. *' Thou, O King, sawest, and behold a great " image. This great image, whose brightness " was excellent, stood before thee, and the form -' thereof Wiis tenible. This image's head v/as of " fine gold, his breast and his arms of silver, his belly *' and his thighs of brass, his legs of iron, his feet " part of iron and part of clay. Thou sawest, till 32 . *' that a stone was cut out without hands, which '' smote the image upon his feet, that were of iron " and clay, and break them in pieces. Then was '■' the iron, the clay, the brass, the silver, and the gold " broken to pieces together, and became like the " chaff of the summer threshing floors ; and the wind " carried them away, that no place was found for " them. And the stone that smote the image be- '' came a great mountain, and filled the whole earth. " This is the dream, and we will tell the interpretation ^' thereof before the king. Thou, O king, art a king " of kings: for the God of Heaven hath given thee " a kingdom, power, and strength, and glory ; and *' wheresoever the children of men dwell, the beasts ''* of the field, and the fowls of heaven, hath he given ''' into thine hand, and hath made thee ruler over " them all. Thou art this head of gold. And after " thee shall arise another kingdom, inferior to thee, '* and another third kingdom of brass, which shall '^ bear rule over all the earth. And the fourth king- ^* dom shall be strong as iron : forasmuch as iron " breaketh in pieces and subdueth all things ; and as " iron breaketh all these, so shall it break in peices '' and bruise. And whereas, thou sawest the feet " and toes, part of potter's clay and part of iron, the " kingdom shall be divided ; but there shall be in it " of the strength of iron, forasmuch as thou sawest " the iron mixed with miry clay. And as the toes of " the feet were part of iron and part of clay, so shall '* tlie kingdom be partly strong, and partly broken. 33 ** And whereas, thou sawest iron mixed with mii'v " clay : they sliall mingle themselves with the seed " of men ; but they shall not cleave one to another, *' even as iron is not mixed with ckiy. And in the " days of these kings, shall the God of heaven set " up a kingdom, which shall never be destroyed : '* and the kingdom shall not be left to other people, '' but it shall break in pieces and consume all these *' kingdoms, and it shall stand for ever." In the 3d chapter we have a history of the image of gold set up by Nebuchadnezzar to be worshipped, which may be designed to intimate, that all the licads. of the first image should be idolatrous. All the great empires, since that of Babylon, have been idolatrous, except the Mahometan, which, it is manifest, if it does not constitute one of the heads of the first image, yet its members do not worship the true God. Chapter iv. verse 4. *' I, Nebuchadnezzar, was •■' at rest in mine house, and flourishing in my pa- ** lace. I saw a dream which made me afraid, and " the thoughts upon my bed and the visions of m} " head troubled me. I saw, and behold, a tree in the *' midst of the earth, and the heighth thereof was " great. The tree grew, and was strong, and the *' heighth thereof reached unto heaven, and the sight *' thereof to the end of the earth, &c. I saw in the *' visions of my head upon my bed, and, behold, a " watcher and a holy one came down from heaven, '■'■ He cried aloud, and said thus, hew down the tree, " and cut oflT his branches, shakr ofT hi«; lenves, and F 34 " scatter his fruit : let the beasts get away from un- " der it, and the fowls from his branches. Never- " theless, leave the stump of his roots in the earth, " even with a band of iron and brass, in the tender *' grass of the field ; and let it be wet with the dew of " heaven, and let his portion be with the beasts in " the grass of the earth. Let his heart be changed " from man's, and let a beast's heart be given unto " him ; and let seven times pass over him." After long and mature reflection upon the words describing this vision, I cannot but think, that we have represented to us the end of the Babylonish empire, and something more : for I do not see, that the various descriptions made use of, can be applied to Nebuchadnezzar personally, even upon the suppo- sition of his being deprived entirely of his reason and becoming a perfect brute ; in consequence of which, he was driven away from his own subjects, and that for the space of seveyi times, or seven years, as the seven times have been generally explained. Daniel has made use of the term time and times frequently, always signifying thereby, (that is, the term time, J 360 years, and never a common year. It may, there- fore, be rationally concluded, that the seven times here, do not mean seven days or seven common years ; but in conformity to the sense we must in- variably affix to the term time^ elsewhere seven titnes, h«rc, must mean, 2520 years. We have good rea- son to doubt, whether Nebuchadnezzai- became so pious a worshipper of God, as he is represented to be 35 after he returned to himself. We have no ti'aces in profane history of tliis extraordinary fact, nor of that, which would ha\e been a more notorious fact, of his proclaiming and establishing the worship of the true God in his empire. If any tiling did happen to that proud monarch, it might have been typical of some greater and more distinguished event : and if so, we have the period of time given to us before it should happen. First. We now know, that the first terrible image that Nebuchadnezzar saw, is partly in existence at this time, after a lapse of time of 2370 years, and we confidently conclude, that it extended further down 150 years; which will make the full period of the vision, 2520 years. Thus far into futurity was Ne- buchadnezzar's view carried. *' Thou art this head of gold.''^ That this is not said personally of Nebuchad- nezzar, but of the Babylonish empire, the next words do clearly show—" And after thee shall arise another kingdom.'''' Why should the prophet say " anothei^ kingdom,''^ if the previous words did not intend a kingdom? " After thee^''^ cannot relate to the death of Nebuchadnezzar, but to the end of the Ba- bylonish empire, when, and not before, the Medo- persian empire commenced. Second. Nebuchadnezzar sets up an image to be worshipped, and the penalty for not worshipping is, to be cast into a fier}- furnace seven times heated. — - All Nebuchadnezzar's successors have been more or kss idolatrous. The refined cruelty of the inquisi- ,jt^ 36 tion exceeds the barbarity of the heathen monarch. The visions that this heathen had given to him arc mysterious. He was astonished at them himself: the monarch *' rose up in haste, and spake, and said unto his counsellors, did not we cast three men bound into the midst of the fire ? They answered and said unto the king, true, O king. He answered and said, Lo, I see four men loose, walking in the midst of the fire, and they have no hurt ; and the form of the fourth is like the Son of God." What idea he had of the Son of God, we know not. There can be no doubt, but that the fourth person appeared much more splendid and glorious than the other three. Wc suggest the idea, that Nebuchadnezzar had re- presented to him the second advent of Christ, when he will come in flaming fire to take vengeance on his enemies ; which gives to this vision an equal extent with the other two. It is not, however, so clear and evident as the other two are. Third. Nebuchadnezzar's third vision exhibits to him the end of his own empire, and fixes the period ot time that should elapse before the God of heaven should set up a kmgdom that should never be de • stroyed. ^V e ha\e here a singular circumstance, which is, that the proud monarch icii on his face and worshipped Daniel, and commanded that they should offer an oblation and sweet odours unto him, and it docs not appear tliat Daniel rebuked him for so doing. This evidences, that the moniuch's heart was idola- irous. N otwithstanding his professions of piety to- 37 wards God, he never did experimentally kno^v• the true God, if he worshipped his creatures. He might as well worship his image of gold as Daniel. U[)on the whole, we think we have good i eason to conclude, that from the end of the Babylonish em- pire, to the time when a kingdom shall be set up that shall never be destroyed, were to be 2520 com- mon }'ears. Now, as that empire came to an end f)60 years before the Christian ?era ; that is, 2370 years ago, counting back from the year 1810, there wants but 150 years to ari\'c at the time when an everlasting kingdom shall begin. Seven times, are prophetically 2520 years : and here we have one of the six periods in Daniel that has not terminated. The second head of the great image is the Me- dopersian empire, mentioned and described in seve- ral detached places in Daniel. First, by these words, " -A.nd after theq shall arise another kingdom inferior to thee." Also, Dan. viii. In the third year of the reign of Bel- shazzar, " a vision appeax-ed unto me, Daniel, after ^' that which appeared unto me at the first, he. I '' lifted up my eyes, and saw, and behold there stood '' before the river, a ram which had two horns. And '' the two horns were high, but one was higiier than '' the other ; and the higher came up the last. I saw '' the ram pushing westward, and northward, and " southward, so that no beast might stand before " him. neither was there anv that could deliver out 38 *' of his hand, but he did according to his will, and '' became great." Verse 20. " The ram which thou " sawest, having two horns, signifies the kings of *' Media and Persia.'' Chap. xi. I. " Also I, in the first year of Darius, " the Mede, even I stood to confirm and strengthen " him ; and now will I show thee the truth. Behold, " there shall stand up yet three kings in Persia ; and "' the fourth shall be far richer than they all : and " by his strength, through his riches, he shall stir " up all against the realm of Grecia." The following passages respecting the Persian em- pire, seem to give the duration of the same : and if so, the term day is used in a very extensive sense — and we know the Scriptures so use it. " As thy day is, so shall thy strength be." I think the term day signifies ten years, c. x. 13. My reason for the opinion is, Darius, the Mede, and uncle of Cyrus, lived about ten years after the conquest of Babylon ; when the Medopersian empire commenced. Accord- ing to Daniel, Darius the Mede was the first king of the Medopersian empire ; and Cyrus was his suc- cessor. The Medopersian empire existed only ten years, and the Persian empire 210 years, making tlie period of those empires 220 years ; which, we are pursuaded even from profane history, as well as the prophetic periods, is correct. The following passa- ges relate only to the kingdom of Persia, for the re- velation begins, " In the third }ear of Cyrus, king of Persia, a thing was revealed unto Daniel." x. 1. 39 Verse 13. " But the prince of the kingdom of Per- " sia withstood mc one and twenty days. But, lo, " Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help " me, and I remained there with the king of Persia.'' V. 20. " Then said he, knowest thou where- " fore I come unto thee ? and now will I return to " fight with the prince of Persia : and when I am " gone forth, the prince of Grecia shall come." The passages or texts unquestionably convey this idea, that the kings of Persia were to be protected for a certain period of time, and then the prince of Grecia was to overcome them. And if the 2 1 days in- tend 210 years, the prophecy corresponds with the fact. If this be a true construction of the prophecy, two of Daniel's prophetic periods have long since terminated ; but not two in the sabbatical or jubilee mode of computation. Two hundred and ten years are 30 prophetic weeks. The prophecy, perhaps, would have been too plain to the Jews if it had been delivered in weeks. Third. The Macedonian Empire. No one ques- tions the fact, that tliis empire immediately succeed- ed the Persian empire. It is described to Nebuchad- nezzar in these words : — " And another third kino-- dom of brass," &c. This confirms fully the con- struction we have given of the words, " thou art the head of gold." They intend the kingdom of Baby- lon, otherwise the Macedonian would not be the third kingdom. Chap, viii. 5. '•'■ And as I was considering-, be- 40 " hold, a he-goat came from the West on the face of " the whole earth, and touched not the ground. And " the goat had a notable horn between his eyes. And " he came to the ram that had two horns, which I '* had seen standing before the river, and ran unto ^' him in the fury of liis power. And I saw him " come close unto the ram, and he was moved with " choler against him, and smote the ram, and broke " his two horns : and there was no power in the ram " to stand before him, but he cast him down to the ** ground and stamped upon him, and there was none " that could deliver the ram out of his hands. There- " fore the he-goat v.axed very great, and when he " was strong, the great horn was broken ; and for it " came up four notable ones toward the four winds " of heaven." No comments are necessary here, except as to the four notable horns, which we shall take notice of hereafter. The 13 th verse of this chapter has per- plexed many commentators; which is, " Then I- " heard one saint speaking, and another saint said " unto that certain saint which spake, how long shall *' be the vision concerning the daily sacrifice, and the " transgression of desolation, to give both the sanc- " tuary and the host to be trodden under foot ? And " he said unto me, unto 2300 days, then shall the " sanctuary be cleansed." Bishop Lowth says, that the translation should have been, " For how long a time shall the vision 41 " last, the daily sacrifice be taken away, and the ** transgression of desolation continue ?'* There can be no question, but this vision extend- ed to the end of the Jewish desolation. But what shall we refer the commencement of the vision to ? We answer, to the period of time when tlie Persiai\ empire ended, at which time the Macedonian em- pire commenced. For it is the event treated of in the prophecy. The prophet explains the meaning of the ram and he-goat, ver. 20, 21. " The ram which thou sawcst, " having two horns, are the kings of Media and Per- *' sia ; and the rough he-goat is the king of Grecia. " Now that being broken, whereas four stood up for *' it, four kingdoms shall stand up out of the nation, " but not in his power." Alexander's empire was divided into four kingdoms, as follows : Ptolemy had Egypt, Lybia, Arabia, and Palass- tine. Cassander had Macedonia and Greece, embracing; the Romans.- > Lysimachus had Bythynia and Thrace. Seleucus had Asia, as far as the river Indus. It is evident, that the vision commences with Alexander, long before the daily sacrifice was taken away ; and by the immediate subsequent descrip-' tions, this is to be the work of the Romans, when the Jews shall have filled up the measure of their trans- gressions. The cleansing of the sanctuary, which will not be till a kingdom shall be set up that shnH 4^ never be destroyed, will take place 2300 days, or years, after the commencement of Alexander's em- pire. I will not notice the trifling, jejune, and in- congruous expositions of some learned men, who apply this vision entirely to three or four years when Antiochus Epiphanes set up the worship of idols in Jerusalem. The taking away the daily sacrifice^ whose duration is commensurate with the transgres- sion of desolation, is only a part of the vision that falls in at its proper time. Now as the seven times that are to be after the end of the Babylonish empire, are unquestionably, in the prophetic sense, equal to 2520 years, which terminate A. D. 1960, so the 2300 days, or years, must terminate at the same time : for deduct the years that Alexander's empire commenced before Christ, that is, 340, from 2300^ and the remainder is 1960. The fourth empire is that of the Romans. Chap. ii. 40. *' And the fourth kingdom, shall be strong *' as iron : forasmuch as iron breaketh in pieces and *' subdueth all things : and as iron breaketh all these, ** shall it break in pieces and bruise. And whereas " thou sawest the feet and toes part of potter's clay •* and part of iron, the kingdom shall be divided : but ** there shall be in it of the strength of the iron, foras- *• much as thou sawest the iron mixed with the mirj- " clay. And as the toes of the feet were part of * iron and part of clay, so the kingdom shall be *• partly strong and partly broken. And whereas • thou sawest iron mixed with miry clay, they shall *' mingle themselves with tlie seed of men, but they 43 •• shall not cleave one to another, even as iron is not " mixed with clay." Chap. viii. 9. " And out of one of them came ** forth a little horn which waxed exceeding great, " toward the Soutli, and toward the East, and to- " ward the pleasant land. And waxed great, even " to the host of heaven. And it cast down some of " the host and of the stars to the ground, and stamp- ** ed upon them ; yea, he magnified himself even to " the prince of the host, and by him the daily sacri- " fice was taken away, and the place of his sanctua- " ry was cast do^vn. And an host was given him " against the daily sacrifice, by reason of transgres- *' sion. And he cast down the truth to the ground, ** and prospered.'* Here immediately follows the prophecy of the 2-300 days. Verse 23. " And in the latter time of their king- " dom, (that is, of the four into which Alexander's *' empire was divided,) when the trans^essors are " come to the full, a king of fierce countenance, and " understanding dark sentences, shall stand up. And *' his power shall be mighty, but not by his own " power : and he shall destroy wonderfully, and " shall prosper, and practice, and destroy the mighty " and the holy people. And through his policy, ** also, he shall cause craft to prosper in his hand : " and he shall magnify himself in his heart, and by '' peace shall destroy many. He shall also stand up " against the prince of princes ; but he shall be •* broken without hands. Shut thou up the vision, it *' shall be for^days, (or years.) And I, Daniel, ''^ fainted, and was sick certain days." The first 20 verses of the 11th chapter exhibit to our view, the rise of Alexander, the four kingdoms into which his empire was divided, the Roman Com- monwealth, and imperial Rome — the two last being two Dynasties in one head. C. xi. 3 *' Also I, in the '''' first year of Darius the Mede, even I, stood to con- '* firm and strengthen him. And now will I show thee " the truth. Behold,there shall stand up yet three kings ** in Persia ; and the fourth shall be far richer than " they all : and by his strength, through his riches he " shall stir up all against the realm of Grecia. And " a mighty king shall stand up, that shall rule with " great dominion, and do according to his will. And " when he shall stand up, his kingdom shall be bro- " ken aiid divided towards the four winds of heaven : *' and not to his posterity, nor according to his do- ** minion which he ruled : for his kingdom shall be " plucked up, even for others besides those." From the 5th verse to the 19th inclusive, we have an account of the four kingdoms ; but more particu- larly of the Seleucidse, LagidcC, and the Roman Com- monwealth. " And the king of the South shall be strong, and ''one of his princes; and he shall be strong above " him, and have dominion ; his dominion shall be a " great dominion. And in the end of years they shall "join themselves together ; for the king's daughter " of the South shall come to the king of the North " to make an agreement : but she shall not retain the 45 •' power of the arm ; neither shall he stand, nor his *' arm : but she shall be given up, and they that " brought her, and he that begat her, and he that ** strengthened her in these times. But out of a " branch of her roots shall one stand up in his estate, " which shall come with an army, and shall enter ** into the fortress of the king of the North, and shall " deal against them, and shall prevail ; and shall also " carry captives into Egypt their gods, with their " princes, and with their precious vessels of silver " and of gold ; and he shall continue more years than- " the king of the North. The king of the South *' shall come into his kingdom, and shall return into " his own land. But his sons shall be stirred up, " and shall assemble a multitude of great forces : " and one shall certainly come, and overflow, and " pass through ; then shall he return, and be stirred " up, even to his fortress. And the king of the *' South shall be moved with choler, and shall come " forth and fight with him, even with the king of the " North : and he shall set forth a great multitude ; " but the multitude shall be given into his hand. — " And when he hath taken away the multitude, his " heart shall be lifted up; and he shall cast down " many ten thousands : but he shall not be strength- " ened by it. For the king of the North shall re- " turn, and shall set forth a multitude greater than " the former, and shall certainly come after certain " years with a great army, and with much riches. *' And in those times there shall many stand up " against the king of the South : also the robbers of 4,f . " thy people shall exalt themselves to establish the " vision ; (the Romans,) but they shall fall. So the " king of the North shall come, and cast up a mount, *' and take the most fenced cities ; and the arms of " the South shall not withstand, neither his chosen " people, neither shall there be any strength to with- " stand. But he that cometh against him shall do " according to his own will, and none shall stand be- *' fore him ; and he shall stand in the glorious land, " which by his hand shall be consumed. He shall " also set his face to enter with the strength of his " whole kingdom, and upright ones with him ; thus ** shall he do : and he shall give him the daughter of " women, corrupting her ; but she shall not stancj ** on his side, neither be for him. After this shall he " turn his face unto the isles, and shall take many : " but a prince for his own behalf shall cause the re- '* proach offered by him to cease ; without his own " reproach he shall cause it to turn upon him. Then " he shall turn his face toward the fort of his own '' land : but he shall stumble, and fall, and not be '' found. Then shall stand up in his estate a raiser " of taxes in the glory of the kingdom : but within " a few days he shall be destroyed, neither in anger " nor in battle." Thus we find that Daniel exhibits to our view the Romans in three different places, exclusive of what is said of them in the 7th chapter, which will be no- ticed particularly hereafter. They are exhibited to Nebuchadnezzar as part of the great image which Daniel says was" terrible" 47 to the king, however precious and current tlie differ- ent metals were, some of them. He says himself, tliat his spirit was troubled, and his sleep brake from him on account of his dreams. The Roman em- pire here is unquestionably called the fourth king- dom. They are exhibited to us, chap. viii. 9. '* And out of one of them came forth a little horn, which waxed exceeding great toward the South, the East. and the pleasant land." '* Orie of them^'*'' means one of the divisions into which Alexander's empire was divided, so evidently, that there can be no question about it. The little horn must have originated northwardly of Judea, for it progresses southwardly, and eastwardly, and toward the pleasant land. Ma- homet originated southwardly, and progressed north- wardly toward the pleasant land. He had never an}" connexion with any one of the princes that succeed- ed to the divisions of Alexander's empire. It is a certain fact, that the Romans originated in Cassan- der's division of the empire, and that they did pro- gress as stated. Julius Caesar, who put an end to the Roman Com- monwealth, was a bold successful warrior, and might be said to be a man of fierce countenance. His speech, when CataUne was accused before the Senate, is a master-piece of cunning and duplicity. There can be no doubt but the term transgressors means Jew- ish transgressors. Julius Cassar established himself firmly after the battle of Actium, where Pompey and his army were entirely overthro^vn, bet'^A'cen 40 and 48 50 years before tlie Christian aera. This king was great, not by his own power — it was the Roman Commonwealth that had raised the Romans to such a pitch of glory. Julius' Caesar, however, is not alone intended. Octavius Cassar seems to be intended by these words, " And by peace shall destroy many.'' " He shall be broken without hands," means tliat the great Roman empire should come to an end peaceably, as in fact it did. The third exhibition of the Romans is in the lltli chapter. The first four verses of this chapter exhi- bit the rise of Alexander, about M'^hom there is no difficulty. The period of time embraced from the 5th to the 20th verse inclusive, is that from the divi- sion of Alexander's empire into four kingdoms, to Julius Ccesar, when Rome became imperial — a pe- riod of about 260 years. This was a period of great confusion, till the Romans conquered the Syrian and Egyptian kings ; that is, the kings of the North and South. The Syrian kingdom was conquered by the Romans long before the Egyptian kingdom was,which exactly corresponds with the words of the prophet — " And he shall continue more years than the king,' (kingdom,) of the North." ProfcUie history^ gives us an account of the wars, the truces, treaties of peace and of marriage, and the murders in consequence thereof, between the Syrian and the Egyptian kings, before they were conquered by the Romans, corres- ponding in several of the prophet's characteristics. A plainer description than that which we find here, is scarcely to be found in prophecy respecting any 4!> future event. The character of Pompey is extreme- ly well drawn. — " After tliis, shall he turn his face *' to the isles and take many ; but a prince for his *' own behalf shall cause the reproach offered b}- " him to cease : without his own reproach he shall " cause it to turn upon him. Then shall he turn his " face toward the fort of his own land ; but he shall " stumble, and fall, and not be found." How plain- ly do we here sec Pompey and Julius Cassar. And how plainly do we see Octavius Caesar in the raisci" of taxes in the glory of the kingdom. This may very well be considered as having relation to our Sa- viour, who, in consequence of an enrolment for taxes, was bom at Bethlehem ; who also was called upon, and paid taxes. From the 21st verse of the 11th chapter to the end, we have a plain description of Mahomet. But the prophet does not tell us who the king of the North is, between whom and Mahomet there Mere such se- vere contests. After, the raiser of taxes comes to his end ; neithei in anger nor in battle, and thus ended the great Roman empire : it was peaceably divided by Theo- dosius tlie Great, A. D. 392: and what has since been called the eastern empire, was given to one son, sand the western empire to another son. The wars 1 of Mahomet, or the Mahometans, within the limits of the once great Roman empire, were, for many hundreds of 3 ears, principally with the Empe- rors of the eastern empire alo]ie. Jt was 851 yearr. 50 aft&r Mahomet's rise, before Constantinople, the seat of the eastern emperors, was taken by the Mahome- tans, and the empire had an entire end put to it. Chap. xi. ver. 21. " And in his estate shall " stand up a vile person, (Mahomet,) to whom they " shall not give the honour of the kingdom ; but he " shall come in peaceably, and obtain the kingdom " by flatteries : and with the arms of a flood shall *' they be overflown from before him, and shall be *' broken, yea, also the prince of the covenant. And " after the league made with him, he shall work de- " ceitfully ; for he shall come up, and shall become *' strong with a small people. He shall enter peace- " ably even upon the fattest places of the province ; *' and he shall do that which his fathers have not *' done, nor his fathers' fathers. He shall scatter " among them the prey, and spoil, and riches ; yea, *' and he shall forecast his devices against the strong ^' holds, even for a time. And he shall stir up his *' power and his courage against the king of the *' South with a great army ; and the king of the South " shall be stirred up to battle with a great and " mighty army : but he shall not stand, for they shall ** forecast devices against him. Yea, they that feed " of the portion of his meat shall destroy him, and his " army shall overflow ; and many shall fall down *' slain. And both these kings* hearts shall be to do " mischief, and they shall speak lies at one table ; " but it shall not prosper : for yet the end shall be at " the time appointed. Then shall he return into his " own land with great riches ; and his heart shall be 51 " against tlie holy covenant ; and he shall do exploits, " and return to his own land. At the time appoint- " cd he sifall return, and come toward the South ; " but it shall not be as the former, or as the latter. - '* For the ships of Chittim shall come against him ; *' therefore he shall be grieved, and return, and have " indignation against the holy covenant : so shall he " do ; he shall even return, and have intelligence *' with them that forsake the holy covenant. And " arms shall stand on his part, and they shall pollute " the sanctuary of strength, and shall take av»-ay the " daily, (offerings, or prayers — there is no sub- " stantive,) and they shall place the abomination that *' maketh desolate. And such as do wickedly *' against the covenant shall he corrupt by flatteries ; " but the people that know their God shall be strong, " and do exploits. And they that understand among " the people shall instruct many ; yet they shall fall *' by the sword, and by flume, by captivity, and by " spoil, many days. Now when they shall fall, they *' shall be holpen with a little help ; but many shall " cleave to them with flatteries. And some of them " of understanding shall fall, to try them, and to " purge, and to make them white, even to the time " of the end : because it is yet for a time appointed. " And the king shall do according to his will ; and " he shall exalt himself, and magnify himself above " every god, and shall speak marvellous things " against the God of gods, and shall prosper till the " indignation be accomplished : for that that is de- " termined shall be. done. Neitlier shall he regard ?■ - 52 ** the God of his fathers, nor the desire of women, " nor regai-d any god : for he shall magnify himself " above all. But in his estate shall he honour the " God of forces : and a god whom his fathers knew ** not shall he honour with gold, and silver, and with ** precious stones, and pleasant things. Thus shall " he do in the most strong holds with a strange god, " whom he shall acknowledge and increase with ". glory : and he shall cause them to rule over many, " and shall divide the land for gain. And at the " time of the end shall the king of the South push at *' him ; and the king of the North shall come against " him like a whirlwind, with chariots, and with " horsemen, and with ships ; and he shall enter into '' the countries, and shall overflow and pass over, " He shall enter also into the glorious land, and ma- " ny countries shall be overthrown : but these shall. " escape out of his hand, even Edom, and Moab, " and the chief of the children of Ammon. He '' shall stretch forth his hand also upon the countries ; " and the land of Egypt shall not escape. But he '* shall have power over the treasures of gold and '' silver, and over all the precious things of Egypt : '* and the Lybians and the Ethiopians shall be at his '* steps. But tidings out of the East and out of " the North, shall trouble him ; therefore he shall go ** forth with great fury to destroy, and utterly to " make away many. And he shall plant the taber- '* nacles of his palaces between the seas in the glo- " rious holy mountain : yet he shall come to his end, " and none shall help him." 55 Such is the history of the abominable monster, Muhomet. The vi e person is a king ; he obtains a kingdom sword in hand. The frequent reiteration of the term " Aerreptible and 66 gradual fulfilment of them, is as miraculous, as any other events recorded in the Bible, such as the sun's standing still, and the dead being raised to life. The Scriptures are a continued miracle. It requires only a candid and patient examination of them, to be convinced that this is an important and serious fact. Chap. i. 8. "I saw by night, and behold a man riding upon a red horse, and he stood among the myrtle trees that were in the bottom; and behind him were red horses, speckled, and white. These are they whom the Lord hath sent to walk to and fro through the earth : and behold all the earth sitteth still, and is at rest." Ver. 18. " Then lifted I up mine eyes, and saw, and behold, four horns. And I said unto the angel, What be these ? And he said unto me, these are the horns which have scattered Judah, Israel, and Jerusalem. And the Lord shew- ed me four carpenters. Then said I, What come these to do ? And he spake, saying, those are the horns which have scattered Judah, so that no man did lift up his head : but these are come to fray them, to cast out the horns of the Gentiles, which lifted up their horn over the land of Judah to scatter it.'' We observe, that the horses and horns are symbo- lical of tyrannical empu-es and powers, and that Ju- dah, Israel, and Jerusalem, were not scattered and dis- persed among the Gentiles that dwell in the four winds of heaven, by the Babylonish, Medopersian, or Macedonian empires. TMs was the work of im- perial Rome. And the Mahometans, as well as the Eastern and Western empires, have been constantly 67 opposed to the Jews ; ha\'e despised, persecuted, and continued to keep them scattered and dispersed. — ■ These, we doubt not, are the lour horns of the Gen- tiles, which Hfted up their horns over the land of Ju- dah to scatter it. Whether the fom* carpenters, or ;u"chitects, may not mean the same as John's four fning creatures, I leave for others to reflect upon can- didly and seriously. At present, no objection oc- curs to my mind against this construction. Chap. 2d. " I lifted up mine eyes, and behold a man with a measuring line in his hand. Then said I, whither goest thou ? And he said unto me, to measure Jerusalem. Jerusalem shall be inhabited as towns without walls, for the multitude of men and cattle therein. Deliver thyself, O Zion, that dwellest with the daughter of Babylon. Flee from the land of the North, saith the Lord, for I have spread you abroad as the four winds of hea^'en. After the glory, liath he sent me unto the nations which spoiled you : for he that toucheth you, toucheth the apple of his eye. Sing, and rejoice, O daughter of Zion, for I will come and dwell in the midst of thee.'' The time for the fulfilment of some of these pro- phecies, we have every reason to believe, is still fu- ture. Jerusalem has already been measured. It is the same measuring Which John mentions, Rev. 11th. And the time when this measurement was to be made, v/as when the Mahometans, A. D. 637, took Jerusalem, as we apprehend is evident from what John says about it. We see here, that Babylon is the name to designate idolatrous worshippers bv. — 68 The Daughter of Babylon is essentially diflfcrent from tlie Daughter of Zion, The wliole of the third chapter has respect to Christ aiid his Church. The fourth Chapter gives an account of a candlestick all of gold, and of two olive trees. The candlestick of pure gold, so mani- festly points out, that the fountain and source from ^vhence proceeded the Mosaic and the Christian dis- pensations, is one and the same ; and that the two ^live trees intend the Jewish and the Christian Churches ; that no arguments in support of the cor- rectness of these ideas need to be adduced. Chap. 5th. " I lifted up mine eyes, and behold a flying roll, &c. This is the curse that goeth forth over the fj\ce of the whole earth : for every one that stealeth shall be cut off, and every one that sweareth shall be cut off. I will bring it forth, saith the Lord of hosts, and it shall enter into the house of the thief, and into the house of him that sweareth falsely by my name, and it shall remain in the midst of his house, and shall consume it, with the timber thereof, and the stones thereof." Though it be not pertinent to our main inquiry, yet we cannot but observe here, that there is no curse denounced against him that sweareth correctly by the name of the Lord. Oaths taken before magistrates authorized to administer them, in order to arrive at the truth, are admissible ; and he that, under such oath, adheres strictly to the truth, will be cleai* from the curse contained in the flying roll. .«!a:r- 69 3y this fiying roily we understand an open book ; and diat it synchronizes with, and intends the same, as John's little open book*", Rev. x. At the com- mencement of the millennium, and not before, the litde book will be open, Rev. x. 7. " the mystery of God shall be finished." Chap. V. 5. " Then the angel that talked with me, said unto me, Lift up thine eyes, and see what is this that goeth forth. And I said, what is it ? And he said, this is an Ephah that goeth forth. He said, moreover, this is their resemblance through all the earth. And behold there was lifted up a talent of lead ; and this is a woman that sitteth in the midst of the Ephah ; and he said, this is wickedness. And he cast the weight of lead upon the mouth thereof. Then lifted I up mine eyes, and looked, and behold there came out two women, and the wind "svas in their wings, (for they had wings like the wings of a stork,) and they lifted up the Ephah between the earth and the heaven. Then said I to the angel, whither do these bear the Ephah ? And he said unto me, to build it a house in the land of Shinar, and it shall be established there, and set upon her own base.'' Commentators have explained this passage of pro- phecy very A-ariously. We will simply give our own opinion of it. The Ephah natuniUy imports a vessel of capacity, applicable to what is called " Dry * " Volutnen, i. e. pellis, sivc membrana, sive codex, -*t''3= est liber itascriptus, ut conyolvi possit. \\\\\Ci,volans signi- ficat fuisse apertvim." Pol. Syn. 70 Measure.^'' The prophet explains what is meant by the symbolical term " Woman.'^ The weight of lead being placed upon the mouth or open part of the Ephah in which the woman sat, naiurally imports a strict confinement of the woman, or wickedness. — Thus far the prophecy does not seem to be very mysterious. The only difficulty is, what are we to understand by the symbolical terms " two women ?'* I answer, (because it does not appear to me, any other answer can be given,) they mean the Jewish and Christian saints, employed in a great and solemn work, after, or at the commencement of the Millen- nium. The woman in the confined Ephah, or wick- edness, intends the daughter of Babylon — Mystery, Babylon the Great. Her wicked descendants bear the name of the first great prophetic head. The Daughters of Zion, and the Daughters of Babylon, are universal terms, embracing two essentially difier- ent classes of the human race. At the commence- ment of the Millennium in glory, and not beiore, the weight of lead will be placed upon the mouth of the Ephah — the daughter of Babylon will be strictly confined. Chap. 6th. " And I turned, and lifted up mine eyes, and looked, and behold there came four chariots out from between two mountains, and the mountains were mountains of brass. In the first chariot were red horses, and in the second chariot were black horses, and in the third chariot white horses, and in the fourth chariot bay, (strong,) hordes. Then I answer- ed, and said unto the angel, what are these, my Lord ? 71 And the angel said, diese are die four spirits, (winds,) of heaven, which go forth from standing before the Lord of all the earth. The black horses go forth into the North country-, and the white go forth after them. And the grisled, (spotted,) go towards tlie South country. And the bay went forth, and sought to go, that they might walk to and fro through the earth. .Vnd he said, Get ye hence, walk to and fro through the earth. So diey walked to and fro through the earth." ** Obscurissima est haec visio ; de cujus scopo et sensu, non liquet, sed conjecturis agitur." Pol. Syn. One matter in this prophecy is not obscure ; which is, that the chariots and horses intend either great temporal or spiritual powers. If spiritual, the time for their going forth, we would refer to the beginning of the Millennium. If they intend great temporal powers, which is most probably the case, then the only difficulty that occurs to me is this, what are we to understand by the two mountains of brass ? It must be evident, that if we can affix correct ideas to these symbolical terms, the others w'lW not be difficult as to the explanation we assume, that the mountains intend great temporal powers. And the first of them we take to be Alexander's empire, described by Da- niel, '* his belly and his thighs of brass. " And the second, the Roman empire, of which Daniel says, " The fourth kingdom shall be strong as iron." The. term " between.,'''' has respect to time. The Medo- persian empire was between the Babylonish and the Macedonian empires. This construction of the 72 term ** betweeuy^ is necessary, if the two mountains intend two empires : for before the division of the great Roman empire, no two great prophetic empires were contemporary. Now it is CAident, that if the two mountains intend those two empires, the ex- planation of the vision becomes perfectly easy. The chariots and horses must intend the four kingdoms that arose out of the ruins of Alexander's empire, which were literally between that and the Roman em- pire. There seems to be a propriety in confining- these visions to the interval of time between these two empires ; because the work to be performed by the chariots and horses, does not appear to be so great and extensive as jhat of the four horns, by whom Judah, Israel, and Jerusalem, were to be scat- tered and dispersed. And further, if the chariots and horses do not belong to this period of time, those four kingdoms are not noticed by this prophet ; yet two of them, the Syrian and the Egyptian monarchies, were very bitter scourges to the Jewish nation. They, however, did not scatter Judah, Israel, and Jerusalem. This evangelical prophet holds out to the Jews the brightest prospects of future happiness. The happiness has not yet been realized: and he did not tell them when it would be. This was not revealed to him, or it does not appear to have been, from any thing he has left on record. John gives an account of four living creatures, chap. iv. 7. " And the first beast was like a lion, and the second beast was like a calf, and the third beast had a face as a man, and the fourth beast was' /J like a flying eagle. And the four beasts had each of them six wings about him, and they rest not day and night, saying, holy, holy, holy. Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come." Chap. v. 8. " And when he had taken the book, the four beasts^ and four and twenty elders, fell down before the Lamb, having every one of them harps, and golden, vials full of odours, which are the prayers of saints. And they sung a new song, saying. Thou art worthy to take the book, and to open the seals thereof: for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation ; and hast made us unto our God, kings and priests : and we shall reign on the earth." John sees, in vision, these living creatures long be- fore their actual existence. The beloved disciple will unquestionably be one of the four and twenty elders ; he, therefore, sees himself in ^'ision. Now, we are persuaded, that no other good reason can be given why they are distinguished by different charac- teristics, and are called four, but this, that they be longed to four different tyrannical governments ; that is, imperial Rome, the Mahometan kingdom, the Eastern empire, and the Western empire, including the ten honis, and the little horn. When the seal is opened that exhibits the temporal government under which they were to live, they severally stand by, and say, Come and sec. f First Seal. J Rev. vi. 1. " And I saw, when the Lamb opened one of the seals, and I heard, as it 74 were, the voice of thunder, one of the four beasts, saying, Come and see. And I saw, and behold, a white horse, and he that sat on him had a bow : and a crown was given to him, and he went forth, con- quering and to conquer." This vision exhibits Jesus Christ arising trium- phantly from the grave, and the commencement of his spiritual conquests after his ascension to glorJ^ — To this idea many expositors have assented ; yet have strangely supposed, that the characteristics have a double reference, and principally to some individual Roman Emperor. Vespasian has been fixed upon, who had been dead nearly twenty years before John had this vision. How can these symbols be applied to any Roman Emperor ? A white horse, an emblem of speed, strength, and purity : a bow, a po\^^^rful, warlike weapon, and the vision intimates, that " his bow shall abide in strength;" for he commences conquering, and goes on to a final conquest of all enemies. A crown is an emblem of glory. If these characteristics were applicable to any Roman empe- ror, surely they could not, with any propriety, be applied to one that was dead before John saw the vi- - sion ; to one stripped of his bow and his crown ; but to some one that should li\'e after Domitian was dead. Now, as these expositors make seven seals and four trumpets come down no lower than A. D. 476, when a final end, under the 4th trumpet, is put to the Caesars in the West, as they suppose, and correctly too, they assign to seven seals and four trumpets 75 ubout 300 years only ; of course the other three trumpets and se\ en vials must embrace a period o^ 1524 years, to bring us to A. D. 2000, when they suppose the seventh vial will end : an absurdity too gross to be admitted a moment. According to their ideas, John has not once hinted at the persecutions of the Christians in the first century, unless we grant tliat lie travels back to dead emperors. We consider it as a fact capable of demonstration, that the seals embrace no chronological series of events. They are introduced for a >ery different purpose. The}- arc precisely in the nature, that is, the first four of them, of "Daniel's four great beasts, which mean four great empires. The first seal does not exhibit imperial Rome, as Daniel's first beast does. The second, third, and fourth seals ex- hibit die same empires that Daniel's second, third, and fourth beasts do. The remaining three seals, embrace no period of time. After the seventh seal is opened, and the trumpets begin to sound, John will treat of these tyrannical empires in the same or- der that Daniel, as well as himself, has placed them. There is a good reason, why John's first seal, and Daniel's first beast, are not under similar character- ' istics. Daniel saw only the savage beast, and that during the whole of its existence. If John com- mences his prophecies at the time of our Saviour's ascension to glory, the great Roman empire had then been in existence about 85 years. John did not sec its commencement. It would have exceeded the command given to him, " JFrite what thou hast 76 sten^"^ if he had given to us the complete and entire beast, as Daniel had it in his vision. The meaning of the first seal we take to be this : Jesus Christ is introduced to our view as a conquer^ or, who will go on conquei^ing, till the tyrannical go- vernments of this world are, in the language of Da- niel, " broken in pieces together, and become like the chaff of the summer threshing floors ; and the wind carried them away, and no place was found for them." It was not necessary that we should be told by John, that Jesus Christ rose up in imperial Rome. — Daniel's first beast, that is, imperial Rome, he says, was like a lion. The living creature that stands by, when the first seal is opened, and says to John, Come aiid see, he says, was like a lion. If ever Christians exhibited a lion-like courage, it was during the time of Pagan imperial Rome. Their lives were not sd dear to them as their rehgion. Rev, xii. 11. Pro- bably referring to this very time. *' And they over- came him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony : and they loved not their lives unto the death." We find nothing in Daniel that has any resem- blance to the four living creatures. But in Ezek. chap. i. we have descriptions which seem to embrace them. " And out of the midst thereof came four Iwiiig creatures,'^'* &c. (Second Seal. J Chap. \i, '3. " And when he iiad opened the second seal, I heard the second beast say, Come and see. .'Vnd there went out another 77 liorse tliat was red : and power was given to hiinihai sat thereon, to take peace from the earth ; and that they should kill one another. And there was given unto him a gieat sword." By this horse and the rider, we have represented to lis the Mahometan Dynasty or Dynasties, being one of the seven great heads. And by the second living creature, we apprehend that we are to understand, faithful Christians that lived and died within the limits of the Mahometan jurisdiction. The symbol is a calf, signifying its weak and dependant state. We place the Mahometan head immediately after impe- rial Rome, the fourth head, as Daniel has placed it. (Third Seal. J Chap. vi. 5. " And when he had opened the third seal, I heard the third living creature say, Come and see. And I beheld, and lo, a black horse, and he that sat on him, had a pair of balances in his hand. And I heard a voice in the midst of the four living creatures, say, A measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of biirley for a penny : and see thou hurt not the oil and the wine.'' This black horse, and the rider on him, in con- formity with Daniel, means the Eastern empire, and the sixth head of the gi-eat red dragon. The Greek words rendered " a pair of balances ^''^ might have been translated, " a yoke in his hand ;''^ a mark of subjection. Perhaps there never M'as a nation whose sufferings were greater than those of the subjects of the Eastern Empire from A. D. 630, to A. D. 1453, when the Turkish Mahometans put an end to it. The 78 black horse, and tlie rider on him, are symbols of ^vretchedness. We are not informed, who it is that utters his voice in the midst of the four living creatures. We have no reason to think that it is the rider on the black horse ; but that it was the voice of warning to the subjects of the Eastern empire, intimating that they would be in subjection to the rider on the red horse ; that is, the Mahometans. The unfortunate Eastern empire was, the greatest part of it, made tributaiy to them in less than 250 years after the di- vision of imperial Rome, signified, as I apprehend, by the words, " a measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of barley for a penny." The Malio- metans allowed the Christians a choice as to three things, which were, the sword, tribute, or circumci- sion ; a mark of Mahometanism. The* words, " and see thou hurt not the oil and the wine," are a com- mand given to the Mahometans, which were literally fulfilled by the orders that the first Caliph and the immediate successor of Mahomet, gave to the chiefs of his army when they were going to make their first attack on the Eastern empire. (Fourth Seal.) Chap. vi. 7. " And when he had opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature say. Come and see. And I looked, and behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat on him was Death, and hell followed with him. — And power was given to him over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with the sword, and with hunger, and with death, and ^vith the beasts of the earth." 79 The pale horse, is a symbol of the Western em- pire, the Caisars, the Papal liierarchies, the ten horns, and the little horn. Thus John has exhibited to us, the great temporal, ecclesiastieal, and tyrannical pow- ers, about whom, and within whose limits, his future prophecies will be employed. There is one singular description given of the commission of this pale horse, not to be found elsewhere ; which is, " And power was given to him over the fourth part of the earth.'' We shall find hereafter, that in several in- stances, severe judgments are to be inflicted on a third part of the earth : and as the globe was divided into but three parts when John wrote, viz. Asia, Africa, and Europe, expositors have supposed, that by the terms " third part ^"^ some one of these great divisions is intended. If the new dynasty in Europe be a part of the pale horse, perhaps we might infer, that its power will never be extended beyond the confines of Europe ; being now but a fourth part of the globe. " Death and hell," are plainly symbols of the judgments that are to be inflicted on the little horn. See Dan. vii. As I have not found, that any expositors have sup- posed that the fifth seal embraces any period of time, I will not introduce it. No living creatures stand by and say. Come and see, when the fifth, sixth, and seventh seals are opened ; which confirms me in the opinion, that I have not given a meaning too exten- sive to tlie first four seals. Chap. vi. 12. " And I beheld, when he had open- ed tlie sixth seal, and lo, there was a great earthquake, -I ^ 80 and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood, and the stars of heaven fell unto the earth, even as a fig-tree casteth her un- timely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind : and the heaven departed as a scroll when it is rolled together : and every mountain and island were mov- ed out of their places : and the kings of the earth, and the great men, and the rich men, and the chief captains, and the mighty men, and every bondman, and every freeman, hid themselves in the dens, and in the rocks of the mountains : and said to the moun- tains and rocks, fall on us, and hide us from the face of him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb ; for the great day of his wrath is come, and who shall be able to stand ?" Here we have represented to us, the extermination of the Jewish nation ; the commencement of a long desolation on account of transgression. History in- forms us, that Vespasian was the minister of ven- geance, Josephus, a Jew, has recorded the unspeak- able sufferings of the Jewish nation, in their wars with Vespasian and Titus, A. D. 70. We refer the reader to him, for a history of one of the most tragi- cal events that we have any where recorded. Such, only much more dreadful, will be the catastrophe at the close of the Christian dispensation, or rather, of tyrannical governments. Nothing that we find contained in the 7th chapter, is derived from the contents of the sixth seal. The first nine verses are principally an epilogue following immediately the final destruction of the Jewish na- 81 tion : and from the 9th verse to the end of the chap- ter, ^ve ha\ e a prologue to the drama of the Christian dispensation, embracing particularly the great num- ber that will be saved in the period of the Millen- nium. This construction seems to be correct, be- cause the four living creatures were such as lived and died in the faith during the persecuting tyranny of the temporal beasts. In this view, this prologue contains serious and important information. We have said, that Vespasian put an end to the Jewish nation. The Jewish dispensation, however, ended with the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Chap. viii. " And when he had opened the 7th seal, tliere was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour." *' And I saw the seven angels which stood before God, and to them were given seven trumpets." " And another angel came and stood at the altar, having a golden censer. And there was given unto him much incense, that he should offer it with the prayers of all the saints upon the golden altar which was before the throne.'* " And the smoke of the incense which came with the prayers of the saints, ascended up before God out of the angel's hand." ** And the angel took the censer, and filled it with fire off the altar, and cast it into the earth. And there were voices, and thunderings, and lightnings, and an earthquake.'' "And the seven angels which had the seven trum- pets, prepiured themselves to sound." M 82 " The first angel sounded, and there followed hail and fire mingled with blood : and they were cast upon the earth, and the third part of trees was burnt up, and all green grass was burnt up." The sound of the trumpet gives an alarm for battle. The opening of a seal has not naturally any such signification. The instrument itself proceeds from the seal before it is made to give any sound. They, therefore, that make the seals and the trumpets to signify both of them an alaim for battle, as most commentators have done, confound things that are distinctly different. With this first trumpet, the persecutions of the Christians commence. By the terms " about the space of half an hour*'' we understand, seven years and an half, something more or less. From the Acts of the Apostles, we leara, that there was no persecu- tion of Christians till a little more than seven years and an half after Christ's ascension, when Herod laid violent hands on James and put him to death. If the contents of this trumpet relate to the persecutions of Christians, as has been generally supposed, and no doubt correctly, then by the terms " trees and green grass^^"* wt mnst understand Christians. I do not find that expositors have given any satisfactory account as to whit we are to understand by the terms " third part. ''^ Some have supposed that we are to understand by them, one of the great divisions of the globe, and that the persecutions were to prevail principally in one of the three parts. But if this trumpet embraces a period of -^rO years, this con- ^/3 83 struclion cannot be correct : for, in the first SjTj;: years of Christianity, the persecutions were equally violent in all the great divisions of the globe. The third part, therefore, I apprehend, signiiies numbers of Christians, and not the place where they were to be persecuted ; that is, during the first ^^20- years, one out of every three Christians was to suffer severe persecution ; or, persecutions were to rage one third of the time, which would amount to about the same thing. Until A. D. 313, Pagan Rome persecuted the Christians. The period of time that this trumpet embraces cannot be ascertained, unless we can be well satisfied as to the commencement of the second trumpet. It is more important to know the beginning than the ending of a signal. '* And the second angel sounded, and as it were a great mountain burning with fire, was cast into the sea. And the third part of the sea became blood : and the third part of the creatures which were in the sea, and had life, died : and the third part of the ships were destroyed." Some extraordinary event happens to the great Roman empire : for that the term " ^d-c," here means this, cannot be questioned. By the term " mountain^'** we understand a chief magistrate, either sole, or in conjunction with one or two upon an equal grade with himself. We think that we cannot be mistaken in fixinjj upon Constantine, as being intended by the great burning mountain. The punishment he inflicted sn ■i/i 84 oil Pagans, was in proportion to what they had in- flicted on Christians. Or, if we suppose one third of the Roman subjects continued to be Pagans, they were outlawed, and became politically dead, as Chris- tians were, till his conversion, A. D. 315. We can assign no particular period of time to this trumpet, after its commencement, except from x\. D. 313, to A. D. 392, when imperial Rome was no more. " And the third angel sounded, and there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp : and it fell upon a third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters. And the name of the star is called Wormwood : and many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter." Here we have evidently pointed out the commence- ment of the bishops of Rome. And this confirms the construction we have given to the second trum- pet. The conversion of Constantine, opened a door for the bishops of Rome to enter into possession of ecclesiastical supremacy, and to exercise a refined cruelty unknown to barbarism itself. His first im- portant appearance, that is, the Bishop of Rome, was, as head of all the clergy at the Synod of Nice, as- sembled by Constantine 's order, A. D. 325. We might enlarge here, but we apprehend it is not neces- sary. " And the fourth angel sounded, and the third part of the sun was smitten, and the third part of the moon, and the third part of the stars ; so as the third part of them was darkened. And the day shone not for a third part of it, and the night likewise." 65 " And I beheld, and heard an angel flying through the midst of heaven, saying, with a loud voiee, Wo, wo, wo, to the inhabitants of the earth, by reason of the other voices of tlie trumpet of the three angels, which are yet to sound." As very learned commentators ha\e united in opinion, that the figurative language in this trumpet, respects the final termination of the Caesars in Rome, situated in Europe, the third great division of the globe, at that time known, we have a precise date for it. The last of the Caesars was Augustulus, wliose feeble administration terminated, A. D. 476 : when tlie sun, the chief political magistrate ; the moon and the stars, ecclesiastical officers, were all in nearly a total eclipse : and here the combined prophecy re- specting the united great sea, ends. This is a re- markable aera in John's prophecy, because it will enable us to fix precisely on the cruel and tyrannic powers that will be exhibited in the three trumpets, emphatically denominated severally by the term " wo." We trust, that we shall make it appeal* clearly, that these three wa-trumpets embrace, first, the Mahometan Saracenic Dynasty ; the second, the Turkish Mahometan Dynasties ; and the third, the Dynasty or Dynasties in Rome, with the ten kings, and little horn, from and after the year 476. Chap. ix. 1. " And the fifth angel sounded, and I saw a star fall from heaven unto the earth : and to him was given the key of the bottomless pit. And he opened the bottomless pit ; and there arose a 86 smoke out of the pit, as the smoke of a great furnace ; and the sun and the air were darkened by reason of the smoke of the pit. And there came out of the smoke locusts upon the earth ; and unto them was given power, as the scorpions of the earth have pow- er. And it was commanded them, that they should not hurt the grass of the earth, neither any green tiling, neither any tree, but only those men which have not the seal of God in their foreheads. And to them it was given, that they should not kill them, but that they should be tormented five months : and their torment was as the torment of a scorpion, when he strikcth a man. And in those days shall men seek death, and shall not find it ; and shall desire to die, and death shall flee from them. And the shapes of the locusts were like unto horses prepared unto battle. And on their heads were, as it were, crowns of gold» and their faces were as the faces of men, and they had hair as the hair of women, and their teeth were as the teeth of lions. And they had breast-plates as it were breast-plates of iron, and the sound of their wings was as the sound of chariots of many horses running to battle. And they had tails like unto scorpions :. and there were stings in their tails; and their power was to hurt men five months. And they had a king over them, which is the angel of the bottomless pit, whose name in the Hebrew tongue is Abaddon, but in the Greek tongue hath his name ApoUyon. One wo is past, and behold, there come two woes more hereafter." 87 Though I have met with no expositor that has at- tempted to explain all the figurative terms made use of, and applied to this power, yet some of them are so plainly descriptive of the rise of the impostor Ma- homet, that expositors have generally fixed on his rise, and the Saracenic Dynasty, as being expressly pointed out by the figurative language contained in this 5th trumpet. Indeed, we find nothing in pro- fane histoiy, after A. D. 476, that corresponds at all with the descriptions here given us, except in the his- torj- of the rise of Mahomet and the Saracenic Dy- nasty. We find the terms ' five months," twice mentioned, viz. in verses 5th and 10th. More than one hundred years ago, a learned commentator on this passage, thought that the repetition of the terms " five months," were to be taken doubly, that is, for ten months, or 300 years : but he pointed out nothing at the end of the first " five months," or 150 years, nor at tlie end of the second " five months," or 150 years, that would have any tendency to induce us to believe him to be correct in his opinion. Profane history plainly establishes John's prophetic period of fi\ e months, or 150 years. Mahomet, ac- cording to the Dyonisian asra of Christ's birth, rose up in 622 ; and precisely 150 years afterwards, in 772, Charlemagne drove nearly all the Mahometans out of Europe. Dan. xi. 24. says of the Saracenic Dynasty, " he shall forecast his devices against the strong holds, even for a time^''^ that is, 360 years. — Now, from the the time of the Saracenic Dynasty's 88 taking Jerusalem, A. D. 637, to the Dynasty of Mahmiid, the Gaznevide, which put an end to the Sai'acenic Dynasty, was precisely 360 years ; that is, A. D. 997. The last of the Caliphs, at the head of the Saracenic Dynasty, gave up all his power to Mah- mud, the Gaznevide. Chap. ix. 13. " And the sixth angel sounded, and I heard a voice from the four horns of the golden altar which is before God, saying to the sixth angel, which had the trumpet. Loose the four angels which are bound in the great river Euphrates. And the four angels were loosed, which were prepared for an hour, and a day, and a month, and a year, for to slay the third part of men ; and the number of the army of the horsemen were two hundred thousand thou- sand : and I heard the number of them. And thus I saw the horses in the vision, and them that sat on them, having breast-plates of fire, and of jacinth, and of brimstone. And the heads of the horses, were as the heads of lions, and out of their mouths issued fire, and smoke, and brimstone. By these three were the third part of men killed ; by the fire, and by the smoke, and by the brimstone which issued out of their mouths. For their power is in their mouths and in their tails : for their tails were like unto scorpions, and had heads, and with them they do hurt. And the rest of the men w^hich were not killed by these plagues, yet repented not of the works of their hands that they should not worship devils, and idols of gold, and silver, and brass, and stone, and of wood, which 89 neither can see, nor hear, nor walk : neither repent- ed they of their murders, nor of their sorceries, nor of their fornications, nor of their thefts." As in the fifth trumpet, so in tl\is sixth trumpet, no expositor, that I have met with, has attempted to affix a phiin intelligible meaning to all the figurative terms made use of: but they have generally fixed upon the Turkish D}nasty of the Mahometans, as plainly designated by the symbolical language made use of. And if the second wo-trumpet do not em- brace the Turkish Mahometans, we certainly cannot find them any where in the prophetic history : and yet of the 1260 years of the Mahometan delusion, they unquestionably embrace 900 years of them. — We will not perplex the common reader with all the historic facts ~ that we could produce respecting the Turkish Mahometans. We will simply state, that the four angels that had been bound in tlie great river Euphrates and were set at liberty, succeeded one an- other, and were not cotemporary. When the Sara- cenic Dynasty ended, we certainly find the first of the four angels. We therefore conclude with great cer- tainty, that the first angel must be Mahmudthe Gazne- vide, who immediately succeeded the Saracenic Dy- nasty, and commenced A. D. 997, and ended 1028. The second angel in succession is the Seljukian Dy- nasty ; commenced 1038, and ended 1092. The third angel is Zingis Khan, first emperor of the Mo- guls and Tartars, commenced 1208, and ended 1227. The fourth angel is Tamerlane ; commenced 1370, N 90 and ended 140G. Now it must be confessed, that the Saracenic Dynasty did not end before A. D. 997: and as no expositors have explained the terms " an hour, a day, a month, and a year," otherwise than to signify 391 years and 15 days, we are obliged to ex- amine carefully what Mahometan Dynasties of the greatest importance appeared after A. D. 997. And none comparable to the four we have mentioned, are to be found in any history of the period of time, from A. D. 997 to 1403. History establishes tht fact, that the Saracenic Dynasty terminated A. D. 997, and the prophetic history of the 5th trumpet ends here. The general opiuion of expositors is, that the period of the 6th trumpet is 391 years and 15 days, which added to 997, carries us to the year 1388 and 15 days, when Tamerlane was sweeping with the besom of destruction nearly all Asia : and about the year 1400 he progressed westward to the Mediterranean, having desolated all Asia. When there, he looked with a wishful eye to Europe ; but he returned to the East, and prepared a great army for the purpose of invading and destroying the Chi- nese. His death, in 1403, put an end to the expe- dition ; and since that time, no such destroying mon- sters have appeared in Asia. It is extremely improbable, that an hour means precisely 15 natural days, it being entirely incompati- ble with the sabbatical or jubilee calendar, in which natural days are not noticed. And there being no other instance of such extreme precision in prophecy, wc are necessarily led to see if we cannot find out 91 another meaning that may be affixed to the term hour. It will be recollected, that at the time of writing this prophecy, and for hundreds of years al\erwards, it was commonly believed, that the earth was the centre of the universe ; and that the sun made a com- plete revolution round it every day, progressing at the rate of fifteen degrees every hour. It is now as- certained that these ideas were incorrect; and that it is the earth that revolves round the sun: and, of course, it requires 15 days for the carlh lo pass over 15 degrees, whereas it was supposed, that the sun passed over them in one hour. Having ascertained the exact number of days, and the reckoning being according to the sabbatical calendar, in every instance, these 15 days, must intend 15 years : of course, '' an tour, day, month, and year, must intend 406 }^ears, which added to 997, carries us to A. D. 1403, the year Tamerlane died. We refer the reader to Gibbon for a history of these four destructive monsters. The idolatrous worshippers referred to, must be considered as idolatrous Christians in Asia ; for no Mahometan worships any thing that is visible. And at their very first rise, tliey proclaimed war against all the visible images of the Christians ; and Chris- tians had introduced many such into their worship at the rise of Mahomet. A Mahometan Mosque has not, and never had, any visible image in it. The Mahometan that worships no image, and the Chris- 92 tian that worships an image, both arise out of the smoke of the bottomless pit. The whole of the 10th chapter is evidently a di- gression from what John had been treating of. It is an anticipation of events that were to be long after them ; events that will succeed in due order after the pouring out of the seventh vial. Chap. xi. " And there was given me a reed like unto a rod : and the angel stood, saying, Rise, and measure the temple of God, and the altar,and them that worship therein. But the court which is without the temple leave out, and measure it not ; for it is given unto the Gentiles ; and the holy City shall they tread under foot forty-two months.'' This is an important passage, as in its connexion, it can have reference but to the Mahometan power only, designated by the term " Gentiles.^'' By the terms " Holy City,*'* we understand the literal Jeru- salem of the Jews : and by forty-two months, or 1260 years, the duration of the Mahometan Dynas- ties, and of the Jewish desolations. This great pe- riod of time corresponds precisely with Daniel, who ij explicit as to the duration of the Mahometan pow- er. It is plain that John has given us a history of the operations of the Maliometans for the first 766 years, for his 5th trumpet embraces 360 years ; that is, the whole period of the Saracenic Dynasty, and 406 years of the Turkish Dynasties, are contained in the 6th trumpet. If we date the commencement of the Mahometan power, not in the year that Mahomet left Mecca ; thai is, A. D. 622, according to the vulgar 93"^ sera, but A. D. 630, according to tlie true aera, the 42 months will expire A. D. 1890. After I had found, by the prophetic periods and the Chronology of the Bible, that Mahomet was to make his appear- ance A. D. 630, I was not a little gratified to find a very ancient author asserting that this was the year in A\hich he did rise up. If the vulgar asra of the rise of Mahomet, 622, should be 630, then the present year, 1810, would be 1818 ; and 72 years more will accomplish the 1260 years allotted to the Mahometan delusion. And in 72 years more there will be an end to the Jewish desolations. Chap. xi. 3 — 13, we have an account of the two witnesses. We will here take for granted, that the witnesses intend all that lived and died in the faith for 1260 years from the Passion. The reason why they are denominated two, we take to be this : they lived, and died under two distinctly different temporal ty- rannical beasts, viz. imperial Rome, and the Eastern empire. That the witnesses lived under the Gospel dispensation, is unquestionable : that they lived in the Asiatic part of the Roman empire, is as unques- tionable. These witnesses, therefore, testified to the truth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, during the ex- istence of imperial Rome, and to a certain period of the existence of the Eastern empire, if not the whole of it. This account of the two witnesses is apparently an epilogue to the 5th and 6th trumpets. It is John's farewell address, as respects the Asiatic Christians. Asia is no longer to be the seat of Christian heroism, Avhen 1260 years have expired, from the Passion. — The infidel historian, Gibbon, says, that the seven Churches in Asia Minor, John's seven famous Churches, fell a final sacrifice to the Turks, A. D. 1312. But John commences his history after the Pcission, and, therefore, we must deduct the number of years that intervened between Christ's birth and his passion ; and we shall find that the Asiatic wit- nesses had 1260 years. The only question of very great importance respecting these witnesses is, what is meant by the terms " shall see their dead bodies th>ee days and an half." And " after three days and an half, the Spirit of Life from God entered into them.'' We are expressly told, " when they, (the witnesses,) shall have finished their testimony, the beast that ascendeth out of the bottomless pit, shall make wi\r against them, and shall overcome them, and kill them." No other beast can be found, that ascends out of the bottomless pit, but Mahomet, therefore the witnesses must be killed by a Mahom- etan Dynasty, and not till G30 years after the beast arose from the bottomless pit. In the middle of his period of 1260 years, the witnesses are killed. The periods of the tiumpets are denominated " days."-— Seven trumpets, or days., manifestly embrace 1260 years. Now, reckoning in the same way, three days and an half must embrace 630 years. Thus long are the dead bodies of the witnesses to be trampled under foot by the Mahometan power. — And at the end of the period, the resurrection of the dead bodies of the witnesses, will be a literal 95 resurrection ; when there shall be a great earthquake, by which thousands of men shall be slain, to whom belonged seven names, '* And the tenth part of the City fell." By the term " C?>y," I understand the great City of wickedness, commencing with God's particular prophecies respecting imperial Babylon ; and, of course, I do not apprehend that when the tendi part of the City fell, there were at the same time nine other co-existing parts. If wc may take the ten parts of the City to be successional, we think, at present, that the tenth part must immediately suc- ceed the litde horn in Daniel, and that it will have a very short existence indeed. The contents of the sixth vial may have respect to the tenth and last part of the great City, and represent to us the kings of the earth universally arrayed in battle against one another. I confess, I do lay more stress upon the explanation which I have given of the ternis " three days and an half," making them embrace 630 years, than any of the other symbolical terms made use of in this passage. The sixth, is the second wo trumpet ; and not till after John has given us this account of the holy City, which, he says, must be trodden under foot 42 months. And of the two wit. nesses, does he tell us, that the second wo is past. As John gives us no further history of the Mahome- tan Turkish Dynasty after the sixth trumpet, and yet it was to exist several hundreds of years afterwards, we suggest this reason for John's placing the se\ en thunders as he has done; supposing that tliey are 96 the contents of the seventh vial, viz. the Turkish Dynasty or Dynasties are to feel the dreadful effects of the vengeance of the thunders ; and the contents of the sixth vial lead us naturally to this construction. In this view we have evidently three important chro- nological periods. First, the thunders are to com- mence A. D. 1890 — The Jewish desolations termi- nate A. D. 1890 — The death of the witnesses termi- nates A. D. 1890 — And the little open book must have reference to the state of the Millennium which commences at the end of these periods, or not long after. To this idea we shall pay more particular at- tention hereafter. We are now well informed by history, that the Asiatic Christians had their 1260 years ; that the Mahometans took Jerusalem A. D. 637, and have had possession of it, except for a short period of time, ever since, that is, 1188 years, wanting but 72 years to accomplish the period of 42 months. Chap. xi. 15. John will now return to the wes- ern world, and begin at the poriod of time when he left it, that is, A. D. 476. But from this 15th verse to the 13th chapter, we have a very important pro- logue, embracing events that are to take place in very different periods of time. He seems plainly enough to hint at some things that were cotemporary with Christ's birth, and to some things which will not happen before his second advent. Chap. xi. 15. " And the seventh angel sounded, and there were great voices in heaven, saying, the 97 kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and his Christ : and he shall reign for ever and ever. And the four and twenty elders which sat before God on their thrones, fell upon their faces and worshipped God ; saying, We give thee thanks, O Lord God Almighty, which art, and wast, and art to come, because thou hast taken to thee thy great pow- er, and hast reigned. And the nations were angry, and thy wrath is come, and the time of the dead, that they should be judged : and that thou should give reward to thy servants the prophets, and to the saints, and them that fear thy name, small and great ; and shouldst destroy them that destroy the earth. And the temple of God was opened in heaven ; and there was seen in his temple the ark of his testament : and there were lightnings, and voices, and thunderings, and an earthquake, and great hail." This passage closes the 11th chapter, and, we think, as manifestly closes the Gospel dispensation previous to the millennium ; and that, if there is to be a millennium, it must be after the general resur- rection. This idea, however, we will not pursue here. We have not the vanity to think, that wc can in plain language set before the reader all the wonder- ful descriptions of events and personages that we find from the 15th verse of die 11th chapter, to the 16t]i chapter, where we find that the first vial is poured out, which we consider as proceeding from, and be- ing, the contents of the seventh trumpet. The figurative terms of the 1 2th chapter, and the 98 collective bodies pointed out by them, require great and mature consideration. We will endeavour to apply the characteristic descriptions as well as we can, and we flatter ourselves, that if we err, the error will have no materially injurious tendency in it. First. By the term " heaven^'' we understand so much and no more of the globe, than that which comprises all those who enjoy the light of the Gos- pel. Heaven does not mean some far distant and un- known place, to the inhabitants of this world. Second. The woman with child, and pained to be delivered, and was delivered of a man-child, that was to rule all nations with a rod of iron, and was caught up unto God and his throne, intends the Christian Church, and especially the birth and ascen- sion of Christ. Thirdly. The red dragon, having seven heads and ten horns, and seven crowns on his head, I con- sider as follows : — First. That the seven great infidel monarchies are all represented here as having been croAvned, and that their Dynasties are complete. — Secondly. The horns, not being represented here as crowned, but as connected with the seven crowned heads, we apprehend points out to us, that the ten horns were to exist in future. None of these de- scriptions intend other than visible powers, though perhaps invisibly operated upon. Fourthly. The woman's flying into the wilder- ness, where she had a place prepared of God, that they should feed her there 1260 days, or years, has an especial reference to the two witnesses. 99 Fiftlily. The wars in heaven, intend the exertions of Constantine against Pagans, and of Protestants against Ecclesiastical and Papal tyranny ; which are successful for a time, but afterwards, political ty- ranny, for a short period of time, rages with unex- ampled fury. Sixtlily. The woman who has given unto her two \vings of a great eagle, that she might fly into tlic wilderness, into her place, where she is nourished for a time, and times, and half a time, from the face of the serpent, I apprehend, comprehends all the mem- bers of the Christian Church in the Millennian state ; and limits precisely the period of its duration to 1260 years. Here I feel more confidence than usual, because it appears to me, that this woman must refer us precisely to a Church in that state. The inquisi- tive reader will undoubtedly take the trouble to read the 12th chapter with attention ; and, if he does, I am persuaded that he will conclude, with me, that they who make tlie 1000 years reign with Christ mean 360,000 years, have no scriptural data for tliis opi- nion. Chap. xiii. 1. " And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw a beast rise up out of the sea, hav- ing seven heads and ten horns, and upon his honis ten crowns, and upon his heads the name of blas- phemy. 2 " And the beast which I saw, was like unto a leopard, and his feet were as the feet of a bear, and his mouth as the mouth of a lion : and the dragon gave him his power, and his seal, and great authority. 100 3 " And I saw one of his heads as it 'were wound- ed to death : and his deadly wound was healed ; and all the world wondered after the beast. 4 " And they worshipped the dragon which gave power unto the beast : and they worshipped the beast, saying, Who is like unto the beast ? who is able to make war with him ? 5 " And there was given unto him a mouth, speaking great things, and blasphemies : and power was given unto him to continue forty and two months. 6 " And he opened his mouth in blasphemy against God, to blaspheme his name, and his taberna- cle, and them that dwell in heaven. 7 " And it was given unto him, to make war with the saints, and to overcome them : and power was given him over all kindreds, and tongues, and na- tions. 8 *' And all that dwell upon the earth shall wor- ship him, whose names are not written in the book of life, of the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world. 9 " If any man have an ear, let him hear. 10 " He that leadeth into captivity, shall go into captivity; he that killeth with the sword, must be killed with the sword. Here is the patience and the faith of the saints. 11 " And I beheld another beast coming up out of the earth : and he had two horns like a lamb, and he spake as a dragon. 12 " And he exerciseth all the poorer of the first 101 beast before him, and causeth the earth and them that dwell therein, to worship the first beast, whose deadly wound was healed. 13 *' And he doeth great wonders, so that he maketh fire come down from heaven on the earth in the sight of men : 14 '• And deceiveth them tliat dwell on the earth, by means of those miracles which he had power to do in the sight of the beast : saying to them that dwell on the earth, that they should make an image to the beast that had the wound by a sword, and did live. 15 '* And he had power to give life unto the image of the beast, that the image of the beast should both speak, and cause that as many as would not Avorship the image of the beast, should be killed. 16 "■ And he caused all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right-hand, or in their foreheads. 17 " And that no man mie:ht buv or sell, save he that had the mark or the name of the beast, or the number of his name. 18 " Here is wisdom: let him that hath under- standing count the number of the beast : for it is the , number of man ; and his number is x- I- ?•'' On these descriptions, supposing that they have a precise relation to tlie Papal hierarchy, authors have wrote voluminously, and have exhausted their inge- nuity unsatisfactorily to the world hitherto. 1. The Greek word xk^w; from the time of Ire- " naeus to this time, has been warmly contended for 102 by some, as explanatory of the number of the beast, and as warmly opposed by others. The dispute here is singular ; as to those who still adhere to the Greek word. The Greek of Irenaeus is entirely lost, and we have only Ruffinus' translation into La- tin, three or four hundred years after the death of that father. It is said that Ruffinus could scarcely write the Latin language intelligibly. Be this as it may, the criticism depends entirely on the spelling of the word. Now we deny that the spelling of the Greek, for the Latin word Latinus, was ever xaTEuoj. Polybius has inserted, in his history, one of the most ancient treaties, that the Romans made with a foreign nation, and he writes the Latin word lati- nus in Greek xartvo?, and these alphabetical letters, as numerals, amount to no more than 661. No one can rationally suppose, that John, in writ- ing this very important prophecy, would have re- course to the mere spelling, 800 yeai's before, in Greek, of the word latinus. We apprehend that the prophecy has plainly a reference to the following facts, which are confirmed by history : — John sees a beast arise out of the sea, having seven uncrowned heads, and ten crowned horns. He had before seen a beast with seven crowned heads, and ten uncrowned horns ; from this circumstance, we may infer, that John's prophecy is to have no re- spect to the Roman Caesai's. He had in the fourth trumpet, brought us to the end of the fifth Caesarial crowned head, A. D. 476. This prophecy is there- 103 fore, to have respect to events subsequent to A. D. 476 ; yet it has an immediate connexion with events which preceded, and are plainly referred to. The seven heads, are seven great empires ; because it is expressly said, that one of them was killed with the sword. Now this head cannot be the great Roman sea ; for that came to its end neither in anger nor bat- tle. The eastern empire did not come to an entire end, till about a thousand years after the line of the Caesars was for ever broken in the western empire. The wounded head of course, can only have refer- ence to these ; for it was killed with the sword. The seven heads, therefore, cannot be the seven hills, or mounts, on which Rome was originally built. The prophet says, chap. xvii. 9. the seven heads are seven mountains, on which the woman sitteth. The mountains, and the seven heads, are one and the same thing ; and are not literally seven hills : be- cause it would be absurd to say, that one of these was killed with the sword. Between the years 476 and 1 500, the papal pow- er rose to its zenith, and after the reformation, gra- dually declined till it became extinct, 1809. We are now prepared to give an explanation of the beast with two horns like a lamb ; and as a ground- work of it, we shall have recourse to the ram with two horns, the smallest of which the prophet gives us to Understand, signifies the king of Media ; and the largest, the king of Persia. The ram is em- blematical of the Medo-persian empire ; which Da- 104 niel in his explanation of Nebuchadnezzar's terrible image calls " another kingdom.''^ Two horns, there- fore, in one head, do not intend two distinct king- doms : but two distinct Dynasties in the same em- pire. The change of a Dynasty does not affect the unity of the head ; therefore they who contend for seven different Dynasties, in the pagan Roman head, contend for something, though it is not true, yet if it were, it is nothing to the purpose. Em- pires, and not Dynasties, are more particularly the objects of prophecy ; however, in the cases of the Medo-persian empire, of Rome popular and Rome imperial, and of the western empire, the prophet marks the Dynasties. The western empire has ascribed to it distinctly, three Dynasties, First. The imperial line, which ended A. D. 476. This Dynasty, professedly, was Christian ; it was a mere civil power, not as- suming to exercise the duties and powers of a Mi- nister of the Gospel. But the beast with two horns like a lamb, has two Dynasties who, whatever other powers they exercised, pretended to be Officers in the Church of Jesus Christ. The horn here sig- nifying power and authority, and the lamb, having respect to the lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world ; the Dynasties must have been pre- tended Christian Officers, that is, ministerial Offi- cers in the Church of Christ. The Gothic aiid Vandalic irruptions into, and possession of Italy, for a short time, make no part of the tiirce Dynas- 105 ties. The ric^dly wound which they inflicted was not healed much short of 200 years after. the event — ..ot till tlie aristocratic ecclesiastical hierarchy commenc- ed : the precise time of which cannot be ascertained. It, howcN er, terminated A. D. 106G, when the other horn or Dynasty commenced. / It has been a qu^^stion, whether the ten crowned horns rose up in the interval between the termination of the Dynasty of the Cssars, and the rising up of one of tlie ecclesiastical horns. Sir Isaac Newton, and several other eminent expositors, have found ten horns among the barbarous nations who broke into Italy in the fourth and fifth centuries. We think the idea is incon-ect, though of no great consequence. As to the beast witli seven uncrowned heads and ten crowned honis, Faber reckons them as follows : After saying, that " the beast then is, the secular Ro- man Empire — his seven heads, (the last being his double or septimo octave head,) are, 1. Kings — 2. Consuls — 3. Dictators — 4. Decemvirs — 5. Military Tribunes — 6. Augustan Emperors — 7. 8. Cailo- vingian Patricio Emperors. His ten horns are, 1. The kingdom of the Huns. 2. That of the Ostro- goths. 3. That of the Visigoths. 4. That of the Franks. 5. That of the Vandals. 6. That of the Sueves and Alans. 7. That of the Burgundians. 8. That of the Heruli, Rugii, and Scyrri, and other tribes that composed the kingdom of Odoacer ia Italy. 9. That of the Saxons. 10. That of the Lombards. His little horn which grew up among p 106 his ten horns, and which was very different from them all, is the ecclesiastical kingdom of the Pope ; which, small as it originally was, afterwards became a great ecclesiastical empire. His three primary horns that were plucked up before the Papal little horn, are, 1. The kingdom of the Heruli. 2. That of the Ostro- goths. And 3. That of the Lombards." All this, we are persuaded, is the mere work c£ imagination ; and that the language of prophecy- does not suggest these ideas. The express words of Daniel, chap. vii. 24, are pointedly contradicted. ** And the ten horns out of this kingdom, are tea kings, (kingdoms,) that shall arise. And another shall arise after them, and he shall be diverse from the first: and he shall subdue three kings." If the lit- tle horn subdues three kings, they could not be sub- dued by him before his existence. The ten horns mean ten kingdoms, that do not grow out of the -head of the beast, but out of this kingdom ; that is, out of the Western empire. Now, the barbarous nations that established themselves in Italy for a time, did not arise out of the Western empire. We will now exhibit ten durable kingdoms that did arise out of the Western empire after the Papal hierarchy had become powerful. We shall make use of Hcnault's abridged chronological history of France, commencing with Clovis, A. D. 481, and brought down to the death of Louis the XIV. which is acknowledged to be a work of great merit ; show- ing, from year to year, the rise of kingdoms in the 107 Western cinpire ; and whut kings were contempora- ry with the kings of France. From Clovis to Charlemagne, A. D. 768, no ten kingdoms of any stability appear in Europe. In this pcritxl France is the most prominent. 1. France. 2. Britain. Ecbert put an end to the heptarchy, A. D. 828. 3. Venice has an earlier date. Expositors allow> that the prophets denominate republics, kingdoms. 4. Spain. Alphonso I. was king in Spain A. D. 757. 5. Sweden. Contemporary kings are noticed it. Sweden, A. D. 816. 6. Poland appears A. D. 550, but was not monar- chical till A. D. 700. 7. The empire of Charlemagne ended A. D. 987> and the title of emperor passed to Germany, 8. Hungary was erected into a kingdom by tho Pope, A. D. 997. 9. Denmark. Sometime before A. D. 980. 10. Bohemia, 997. Naples, Portugal, Prussia, and Holland, arose out of the foregoing kingdoms, and are of a later date, and not of the ten original kingdoms. The first race of French kings commenced with Clovis, and ended with Childeric, A. D. 7-0. The second race or Dynasty commenced with Pe- pin, and ended with Louis V. 987. The third race or Dynasty commenced with Hugh 108 Capet, and ended with Louis XVI. January 21, 1793. The new Dynasty in France is not the fourth French Dynasty, because he is not of the ten horns, but of the seven heads. He has plucked up by the roots, the third Dynasty of the Western empire, the second horn of the two-homed beast, the Papal mo- narchical horn. Except Britain, there is not one of the original ten horns, not plucked up by the roots, that are not indebted to his forbearance for their crowns. Histoiy points out no three of ten king- doms that were ever plucked up by the roots by the Papal power. The new Dynasty in France has not only plucked up three by the roots, but it has done •much more ; nine of the original ten horns are either destroyed, or dependant on his good will and plea- sure for the diminished and fading crowns they pos- sess, merely as tenants at will. We might, therefore, argue here, that the Papal power is not, and that the new Dynasty in France also is not, the little horn described in the 7th chap- ter of Daniel. But the prophet himself enables us satisfactorily to solve this difficulty ; and the solution clearly points out, that the new Dynasty which ori- ginated in France, is precisely the little horn in that 7th chapter. lian. viii. 6. " And he, (that is, the he-goat,) came to the ram that had two horns, which I had seen standing before the river, and ran unto him in the fury of his power. And I saw him come close unto the ram, and he was moved with choler 109 against him : and smote the ram, and brake his two horns." Now these two horns, unquestionably^ mean two Dynasties ; indeed the prophet tells us so. One of these Dynasties had ceased to exist 200 years before the he-goat came to the ram, in the fury of his power ; but the prophet holds clearly up to our view, that what was once in the head of the ram, was still to be considered as in the head of the ram, 2C0 years after one of the horns had ceased to exist. We now say, that there were three horns, or Dynasties in the French kingdom before Napoleon ; and that these three have been plucked up by the roots ; but we do not fix upon these three as having been destroyed by Napoleon, for they were destroy- ed at the death of Louis XVI. in which atrocious act he had no concern, at least I have never heard that he had. The little horn of Daniel and John's eighth beast, which was, and is not, and is of the seven, and goeth into perdition, intend the same beast. John writes as if he were present when the events happened which he records, and not at all as having any regard to the time in which he lived. We there- fore must conclude, that he represents himself as present at a time posterior to the end of the western Caesars, A. D. 476. The western beast has plainly three Dynasties, those of the Cassars, who were wounded to death with a sword. And of the beast with two horns like a lamb, which two horns, according to Daniel, intend two Dynasties. By destroying the papal power, Napoleon has de- 110 iifmyed the three Dynasties ; and thus we have a clear explanation of the words, " which was, and is not, and yet is,** referring us to the chasm between the extinction of the Caesars, and the rising up of one of the lamb- like horns of the beast : and also what is meant by the words, ^^Jive are fallen;''' the great Roman Empire was the fourth head of the dragon ; and the western Cassars, the fifth head. When they ceased to ht,Jive had fallen. (First Horn. J The aristocratic government of tlie two horned beast, which was his first and small- est horn, is thus described Rev. xiii. 12 — 15. — • *' And he exerciseth all the power of the first beast before him, and causeth the earth, and them which dwell therein, to worship the first beast, whose dead- ly wound was healed : and he doeth great wonders, so that he maketh fire come down from heaven on the earth, in the sight of men : and deceiveth them that dwell on the earth, by the means of those mira* cles, which he had power to do in the sight of the beast : saying to them that dwelleth on the earth, that they should make an image to the beast, which had the wound by the sword, and did live. And he had power to give life unto the image of the beast, that the image of the beast should both speak, fcc." (Second Horn.) " And cause that as many a& would not worship the image of the beast, should be killed. And he caused all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads : and that no ill man should buy or sell, save he that had the mark^ or the name of the beast, or the number of his name. Here is wisdom : let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast : for it is the number of a man; and his number is six hundred three score and six." The Greek initials, and numeral letters are x- ?■ ? — translated 666. These Greek let- ters I consider as the cypher of the beast. The first horn or D}- nasty of the beast. It is said of the first horn, or Dynasty, that he exerciseth aH the power of the first, before him: that is, of that Dynasty which preceded, or was prior to his exist- ence. If this be a correct explanation of the words, *' before kim,'^ we may here have a clue to the meaning of the words, " before whom three fell." Dan. vii. 20. " And he doeth great wonders." " He maketh fire come down.'' " He deceiveth." " He has power to do." " He says that they shou'd make an image." '* He had power to give life to tlie image." The pronoun, He, stands for a collective noun j and must stand for the whole Dynasty ; that which preceded the image of the beast, or the monarchi- cal Popes. This first horn embraces the Romish regular and secular clergy. The first of these class- es comprehends all the various monastic orders. The second comprehends the whole body of paro- chial clergy. These two ecclesiastical bodies, are they who say, that they should make an image, &c. Mosheim says, that " the imperious j)ontiff3, al- ways fond of exerUng their authority, exempted, by 112 degrees, the monastic orders from the jurisdiction of the bishops. The monks, in return for this impor- tant service, devoted themselves wholly to advance the interests, and to maintain the dignity of the bi- shop of Rome. They made his cause their own, and represented him as a sort of a god to the ignorant multitude, over whom they had gained a prodigious ascendency by the notion that generally prevailed of the sanctity of the monastic order. The monastic orders and religious societies, have always been con- sidered, by the bishops of Rome, as the principal support of their authority and dominion. It is cliief- ly by them that they rule the Church, maintain their influence on the minds of the people, and augment the number of their votaries. The power of the Dominicans and Franciscans greatly surpassed that of the other orders, and rendered them singularly- conspicuous in the eyes of the world. During three centuries, these two fraternities governed, with an almost universal and absolute sway, both Church and State ; filled the most eminent posts in ecclesi- astical and civil government ; taught in the universi- ties and Churches with an authority before which all opposition was silent ; and maintained the pretended majesty of the Roman pontiff, against kings, princes, bishops, and heretics, with incredible ardour and suc- cess. The Dominicans and Franciscans were, be- fore the reformation, what the Jesuits have been since — the very soul of the hierarchy, the engines of the state, the secret springs of the motions of the one and the other, and the authors of evert- great and 113 important event both in the religious and political world. While the pontiffs accumulated upon the mendicants the most honourable distinctions, and tlie most valuable pri\'ilcges which they had to bestow, they exposed them still more to the envy and hatred of the rest of the clergy : and this hatred was con- siderably increased by the audacious arrogance that discovered itself every where in the conduct of these supercilious orders. They had the presumption to dechu-e publicly, that they had a divine impulse and commission to illustrate and maintain tlie religion of Jesus. They treated with the utmost insolence and contempt, all the different ranks and orders of the priesthood. They affirmed, without a blush, diat the true method of obtaining salvation was re- vealed to them alone ; proclaimed, with ostentation, the superior efficacy and virtue of their indulgences ; and vaunted, beyond measure, their interests at the court of heaven, and their familiar connexions with the Supreme Being, the Virgin Mary, and the saints in glory. By these impious wiles, they so deluded and captivated the miserable and blinded multitude, that they would not intrust any others but the men- dicants with the care of their souls, their spiritual and eternal concerns. Thus it appears, that the mo- nastic orders constituted a well-organized body, go- verned by their own laws, exempt from episcopal jurisdiction, subject to their respective generals or superiors, but paying at the same time an implicit obedience to the Roman pontiff." In short, we haAe ^J1 114 here a clear view of an aristocratic ecclesiastical horn ©r Dynasty. The second horn or Dynasty of the beast appear- ed when the Pope became a sole monarch, to all in- tents and purposes ; when the monastic orders said that they should make an image to the beast. The characteristic descriptions of the image of the beast, have been so generally and correctly in part, not in full, applied to the monarchical Popes, that we wuU only make remarks on two or three of them, after we have pointed out the precise time when the image of the beast made his appearance : and we are persuad- ed, that it must be evident, that the number, or cy- pher of the beast will lead us to the very year when the image of the beast rose up. There seems to have been something very fascinating in three sixes. They have rung on the changes from Irenseus to Fa- ber, without having afforded any clue to find out who is the real character intended. By the number or cypher of the beast, we apprehend, that two dis- tinct things are pointed out. " And his 7iumber is, X' ?• f." These Greek initials, may be the initials of words ; that is, of ;^?t(rToj, |oXw, ' and f«f never signify Jbr^ or ^'^Jbr the space qf,^' that I would almost promise to lay aside my reason, and believe implicitly all that the Doctor should tell me, if he can produce an instance where nj' and »«,- signify yor, or *^Jbr the space of.^* If the Doctor, as he consulted the Septuagint, had looked three verses back of that where he found the term ««?, he would have found the same word, c. vii. 22. "until the ancient of days came," &c. According to the Doctor, the translation should be, ^'^for^ ox for the space of t\\t ancient of days came," &c. lam ^ure he will reject this unmeaning translation. 5. The Doctor says that he has met with no ex* planation of the 1 Ith chapter of Daniel that satisfies him. In the general view preceding, we have, to our own satisfaction, explained the first twenty verses : and apprehending that the subsequent characteristics were so plain, that they could not be misapplied by any one conversant with history, and that would pay due attention to the facts recorded therein, and com- pare them with the prophet's descriptions of the cha- racter and Dynasties he exhibits to us, we passed them over in silence : we have now paid more atten- tion to them. The last twenty-five verses of the 1 1th chapter belong to the rise of Mahomet and the 152 Mahometan Dynasties, and the wars between them and the eastern empire. The 21st verse represents to us a vile person standing up in the place of the Roman Caesars. When Mahomet rose up, the eastern empire em- braced all in Asia and Africa, that the great Roman empire had ever brought under its subjection. Now, if the vile person mean Mahomet, the wars mention- ed, must of necessity be in a great measure be- tween him and the eastern Emperors, for there was no other power west of the Euphrates to the Me- diterranean, when Mahomet rose up, A. D. 622. " Atid in his estate shall stand up a vile person,'''' &c. In this verse we have several remarkable cha- racteristics : 1. A vile person. 2. The honour of the kingdom is not to be given to him. 3. He is to come in peaceably : 4. to obtain the kingdom. 5. He obtains it by flatteries. I know that the most learned and most laborious expositors have supposed, and haA^e endeavoured to prove, that, *' the vile per- son" means Antiochus Epiphanius. But not one of the five foregoing characteristics can, without great violence, be applied to him. Thej'^ all meet in Mahomet. He was, in every sense of the word, " vile,"' a vile person. 2d. He erected a kingdom sword in hand — it was not given to him : his motto ultimately, not at first, was, Viam inveniam, aut faciam. 3d. He is to come in peaceably. It does not appear from history, that Mahomet had at first any ideas of going any further than the powers of artifice and persuasion would carry him ; he assum- 15S ed no hostile appearance ; he was eloquent and as- siduous in preaching and praying; he had prophe- sies and visions, in which there were not any appear, ance of a warlike plan for establishing an empire. 4. He is to obtain the king-doni. He and his de- luded followers did obtain a great, a lasting, and extended kingdom. 5. He obtains it by flatteries. History informs us, that the Koraish, a powerful tribe among the Arabians, and at first bitter ene- mies of Mahomet, charge him with the same thing. Abu Taleb, a chief, said, " Citizens and pilgrims, listen not to tiie tempter, hearken not to his impious novelties." Mahomet's most arduous work seems to have been that of converting his own country- men, which he did by flatteries, entreaties, prayers, and supplications. It was a long time before he could bring them to the faith, and induce them to break in pieces their idol gods. When he had thoroughly instilled into their minds, that worship- ping idols Avas worshipping the devil, he had no more trouble with his countrymen^ His simple creed was — That there is only one God, and that Mahomet is the apostle of God. The Christians of the seventh century had fallen into idol-worship, ap proximating to paganism. Their public and private prayers were addressed to relics and images. The Christian temples were disgraced with the images ol martyrs, saints, and angels, who were the objects oi' veneration. The Collyridian heretics, who flourish- ed in- Arabia, had invested the ^''irgin Mary with thf X 154 liame, and the honours of a goddess. The Impostor of Mecca rejected the worship of idols and men, of stars and planets, on the principle, that whatever rises must set, whatever is born must die. The prophet Daniel says, " And with the arms of a flood shall they be overflown from before him, yea, also the prince of the covenant. And after the league made with him he shall work deceitfully ; for he shall come up, and shall become strong with a small people. He shall enter peaceably upon the fattest places of the province ; and he shall do that ^^■hich his fathers have not done, nor his fathers' fathers ; he shall scatter among them the prey, and spoil, and riches ; and he shall forecast his devices against the strong holds, even for a time. And he shall stir up his power and his courage against the king of the south with a great army : and the king of the south shall be stirred up to battle with a very great and mighty army ; but he shall not stand : for they shall forecast devices against him. Yea, they that feed of the portion of his meat shall destroy him, and his army shall overflow, and many shall fall down slain. And both these kings' hearts shall be to do mischief and they shall speak lies at one table ; but it shall not prosper ; for yet the end shall be at the time appointed. Then shall he return into his land with great riches ; and his heart shall be against the holy covenant : and he shall do exploits and re- turn to his own land." These characteristics are, in general, so plainly applicable to Mahomet and his followers, and to no 155 other king or kingdom that ever existed, that it seems ahnost unnecessary to introduce historic facts to con- firm the idea. We will only select a few, out of many. By the King of the south, we understand the em- jx^rors of the eastern empire. Though they lived at Constantinople, yet nearly the whole of the empire lay to the eastward and southward of that city. Their empire extended as fai' south, as the great Roman empire did. Besides, if Mahomet be the vile per son ^ wc can find none except the eastern emperors, that ^v'ere kings of the south, when he rose up. These traits exactly suit Mahomet; he became sti'ong with a small people. He did that which nei- ther his fathers, nor his fathers' fathers, had done ; in- timating a long and connected line of ancestors ; from Ishmael to Mahomet, no such chai'acter had ever appeared among the Arabians as the pretended pro- phet. The prey, the spoil, and riches, that, under Mahomet and his successors, the Arabians amassed together, is almost incredible. The prophet plainly informs us, that the subjects of the Eastern Empe- ror would act hypocritically and traiterously ; but of this, it is not to be expected, that we should find many historic facts. He says further, that " both these kings' hearts shall be to do mischief, and they shall speak lies at one table, but it shall not prosper."" This fact seems to be confirmed by history. " When the emperor Heraclius, A. D. 629, returned in tri- umph from the Persian war, he entertained at Emesa, the Ambassador of jVIahomet, who invited the prin. 156 Ces and nations of the earth to the profession of Is- lam. On this foundation, the Arabians have suppos- ed the secret conversion of the Christian emperor. The Greeks pretend that there was a personal visit to the prince of Medina, who accepted from the royal bounty a rich domain, and a secure retreat in the province of Syria : but the friendship of Hera- clius and Mahomet was of short continuance. The new religion had rather inflamed than assuaged the rapa- cious spirit of the Saracens : and the murder of an envoy afforded a decent pretence for invading with three thousand soldiers, the territory of Palestine, that extends to the eastward of Jordon. This was the first military attack that the Mahometans made on a foreign enemy — and we are left in the dark, whether the Romans, or the Mahometans, were vic- torious." — Gibbon. An expedition for the conquest of Syria was stop- ped by the death of Mahomet, A. D. 632. His successor, the first Caliph, was Abubeker, who, as :>oon as he was settled in the government, dispatched a circular letter to the Arabian chiefs : "In the name of the most merciful God, to the rest of the true be- lievers, &c. This is to acquaint you, that I intend to send the tme believers into Syria, to take it out of the hands of the infidels." In his instructions to the chiefs of the army, he says, " Avoid injustice and oppression ; let not your victory be stained with the blood of women and chil- dpcn : destroy ro palm trees, nor bum any fields of i'Ai\n. Cut down no fruit trees, nor do any mischief 15V to cattle, only such as }ou kill to'cat. When yoii make any covenant, or bargain, stand to it, and be as good as your word. As you go on, you will find some religious persons, who have retired in Monas* teries, and propose to themselves to serve God that way : let them alone ; neither kill them, nor destroy their Monasteries. And you will find another sort of people that belong to the Synagogue of Satan, who have shaven crowns ; be sure }ou cleave their skulls, and give them no quarter till they either turn musselmen or pay tribute." " One of the fifteeii provinces of Syria, was called by the Romans, Arabia. It w^as covered with a line of forts. The citizens of Gerosa, Philadelphia, and Bosra, were populous and secure, by the solid struc- ture of their walls. Bosra could send forth from her gates 12000 horse — a detachment of 4000 Moslems presumed to summon and attack the fortress. They were oppressed by the Syrian numbers : but Caled, w'ith 1500 horse coming to aid, them, restored the battle. Confident in their strength, the people of Bosra threw open their gates, drew their forces out Into the plain, were defeated. The ramparts of Bosra, in expectation of human or divine aid, were crowned widi crosses and consecrated banners ; but they were betrayed by Romanus the governor, who renounced the Christian religion, and embraced the faith of Mahomet. A. D. 633^ the Mahometans besieged Da- mascus. This place had lately received a reinforce- ment of 5000 Greeks; and had the promise of speedy succour. The defence was spirited, and the siege ISS was buspenfled till the Mahometans had given bat- tie to the Emperor's army. The importance of gaining a victory over that army, required the junc- tion of all the Saracens on the frontiers of Syria and Palestine. One of the circular letters which was addressed to Amron, the future conqueror of ^gypt> was as follows : — " In the name of the most merciful God. Calid to Amron, health and happi- ness. Know that thy brethren, the ^loslems, design to march to Aiznaidin, where there is an army of 70;000 Greeks, who purpose to come against us, that they may extinguish the light of God with their mouths. But God preserveth his light in spite of the infidels. As soon, therefore, as this letter shall be delivered to thy hands, come with those that are with thee, to Aiznaidin, where thou shalt find us, if it please the most high God." " The summons was cheerfully obeyed ; 45,000 Moslems met on the same day, on the same spot, which they ascribed to the blessing of providence. The battle was fought July 13th, 633, about four years after Heraclius had triumphed over the Per- sians. He had assembled an armv of 70,000 men at Hems or Emisa. The troops, chiefly cavalry, might be indifferently called Syrians, Greeks, or Romans. On the plains of Aiznaidin, a venerable Greek in the presence of both armies, advanced with a liberal of- fer of peace, and the departure of the Saracens would have been purchased by a gift to each soldier, of a turban, a robe, and a piece of gold : ten robes, and a hundred pieces to their leader : a hundred robes, and a thousand pieces to the Caliph." 159 " A smile of indignation expressed the refusal of Calid. * Ye Christian dogs, you know your option ; the koran, tribute, or the sword.' The imperial ar- mv was defeated. The death of 470 Moslems was eompensated i^v the opinion, that they had sent to hell above 50,000 infidels. The spoil was inestima- ble. After this battle, the Arabs return to the siege of Damascus, which, at the end of seventy days, is taken, partly by storm, and partly by ec^pitulation." We now appeal to the sober and inquisitive reflec- tion of every Christian, and beg him to point out what material difference there is between the profane, and the prophetic history, as last quoted : for we can- not percei^-e any. The prophet proceeds, verses 30. 35, — " For the ships of Chittim shall come against him ; therefore, he shall be grieved, and return", and have indignation against the holy covenant : so shall he do : he shall even return, and have intelligence with them that forsake the hoh" eo^'enant. And arms shall stand on his part, and they shall pollute the sanctuary of strength, and shall take away the daily (offerings,) and they shall place the abomination that maketh deso- late. And such as do wickedly against the covenant, shall be cori'upt by flatteries : but the people that do know their God, shall be strong and do exploits. And they that understand among the people, shall instruct many : yet they shall fall by the edge of the sword, and by flame, and by captivity, and by spoil, many days. Now, when they shall fall, they shall be holpen with a little help, but many shall clea^ c to 160 them with flatteries ; and some of them of under- standing shall fall, to try them, and to purge, and to make them white, even to the time of the end." This passage is a continuation of the warlike and successful exploits of the vile person. By the ships of Chittim we are to understand, the ships of Graecia. ' The battle of Yermack is famous. The Emperor Heraclius, A D. 636, had, from the provinces oi Europe and Asia, transported, by sea and by land, to Antioch and Caesaria, 80,000 men. The light troops of the Arabian army consisted of 60,000 Arabs, of the tribe of Gassan. Heraclius' orders were pe- remptory, that the fate of the province, and war, sh',juld be decided by a single battle. A report of these mighty preparations was conveyed to the Ara- bian camp at Emesa. Caled was for retreating to the skirts of Palestine and Arabia, to wait for the succour of their friends. A speedy messenger from the throne of Medina, came with the blessings of Omar and Ali ; the prayers of the widow of the pro- phet ; and a reinforcement of 8000 Moslems. The exhortation of the Saracen generals was brief and forcible, — " Paradise is before you^ and hell-jire in your rear V Yet such was the weight of the Roman cavalry, that the right wing of the Arabian army was broken, and separated from the main body. — Thrice they retreated in disorder, and were rallied again.— Four thousand and thirty Moslems were buried in the field of battle ; but it was decisive against the Emperor. — Many thousands of the Greeks and Syrians fell bv the sword. " We killed oftliem,'* 161 says Abu Obeidah to the Caliph, " 1 50,000/and made prisoners 40,000," These numbers are no doubt exaggerated : but after this battle, the Roman army- no longer appeared in the field. And the Saracens might, at this time, safely choose, among the forti- fied towns of Syria, which they would first attack. Their choice fell upon Jerusalem, which submitted to the conquerors, A. D. 637. In the victorious days of the Roman Republic, it had been the aim of the senate to confine their con- suls and legions to a single war, and completely to suppress a first enemy, before they provoked the hos- tilities of a second. These timid maxims were dis- dained by the .magnanimity or enthusiasm of the first Caliphs. With the same vigour they invaded the successors of Augustus, and those of Artax- erxes ; and rival monarchies, at the same instant, be- came the prey of an enemy that they had so long been accustomed to despise. In the ten years of Omar's administration, the Saracens reduced to their obedience 36,000 cities or castles ; destroyed 4000 temples of the Christians ; and erected 1400 Moschs for the exercise of the religion of Mahomet. One hundred years after his flight from Mecca, the arms, and the reiga of his successors extended from India to the Atlantic ocean, over the various and distant provinces which may be comprised under the names ©f, 1. Persia. 2. Syria. 3. Egypt. 4. Africa. 5. Spain. Thus we see plainly, that the prophet's descriptions do not exceed the historic account of the wonderful 162 exploits of the vile person and Ws successors. I pre- sume no divine will say, that Mahomet was not against the prince of the covenant, and against the holy co- venant itself; meaning thereby, Jesus Christ, and the covenant of grace in the New Testament of hb blood : nor that when the prophet says, " that the vile person shall forecast his devices against the strong holds, even for a time^^" or 360 ye^s, that the Sara-- cenic delusion is not intended, seeing profane history precisely establishes the fact. The Mahometans have, for 1188 years, polluted the sanctuary of strength ; denied the Saviour of the world ; put an end to the daily offerings of Christians ; and have placed the abo* mination that maketh desolate, spoken of by our Sa- viour. After the destruction of Jerusalem by Vespa- sian, there was a Christian Church in Jerusalem, spo- ken highly of by the Fathers, till the conversion of Constantine ; and he added greatly to its beauty and splendour, and probably to its corruptions. The prophet says, " but the people that do know their God shall be strong, and do exploits.** If this be not a clear vindication of defensive war, resistance even unto blood, I know not what construction to put upon the words. If these Christians had permitted the Mahometans to have murdered them without re- sistance, it would indeed have been doing exploits of the negative kind. The prophet having given a history of the warlike exploits of the Mahometans, as well as the rise of Mahomet, from the 21st to the 35th verse, he goes on to give us several pointed characteristics of thie 163 vHe person, and his deluded followers. *' jln^ the king shall do according to his will." These emphati* cal words are used twice before : once in this 11th chapter, where it cannot be doubted that they are ap- plicable to Alexander the Great ; see verse 3. " And a mighty king shall stand up, that shall rule with great dominion, and do according to his will." Also die 16th verse. " But he that cometh against him, shall do according to his own will." Alexander, the Roman Commonwealth, and Mahomet, are the only powers of whom it is said, that they did according to their will. Mahomet's exploits were more similar to the two former, than to any other powers. They made their way, sword in hand, and so did Mahomet; his exploits are not eclipsed by the splendour and greatness of their achievements. The remaining part of the chapter, except the 40th verse, is so clearly applicable to the Mahometans, that we will make no comments thereon. The 40th verse is, *' and at the time of the end shall the king of the South push at him : and the king of the North shall come against him like a whirlwind, with chariots and horsemen, and with many ships: and he shall enter into the countries, and shall overflow and pass over." By these words, " at the time of the end," we understand the end of the Eastern empire. As we have before shown, that when Mahomet rose up, the emperors of the eastern empire were the kings of the South, so here we find that they continue to be thus called. The Tile person has not been geographically 164 described as a northern, southern, eastern, or west- ern king, till we come to this verse. And it could not have been done with any propriety ; for the em- pire was not always geographically the same ; and the seats of the chiefs of the empire were frequently changed. The Turkish Mahometans were a north- em nation, who put an end to the Eastern empire ; therefore their king is very properly called the king of the North. It is well known, that originally ca- valry, and not infantry, constituted the Turkish ar- mies. After taking Constantinople, which they could not do without passing the Bosphorus, they passed over still further into Europe, a considerable part of which they now hold. These arguments do, in my humble opinion, unanswerably establish the fact, that the vile person in- tends Mahomet. And if so, the power that is op- posed to him must be the Eastern empire. 6. There is a plain distinction in English between a hill and a mountain ; also between the term mount and mountain. We meet with the terms Mount Aven- tine, but not Mountain Aventine. The Roman writ- ers spake hyperbolically often, with respect to the city of Rome. If a hill and a mountain were not sy- nonymous expressions with them, as I presume they were not, then I should think that we ought to trans- late " septimontium festus," Xht festal day of the se- ven mounts. The fact is incontestible, that Rome was not built on seven mountains, unless the term moun- ^ain be taken in a very inferior sense. I still think, I hat when authors describe the city of Rome geo- 165 graphically, they never say that it was built on scvai mountaifis. It is acknowledged that John says, that the seven heads are seven mountains ; and I am confirmed in the opinion, that the term mountain, means here a great empire : to this it is objected, " If tnountains here be^ as yon say they are^ symbolical, we must con- clude ^ the angel explained one symbol by another syfn- bol.'^ " Then the ten kings y which the angels de- clare to be explanatory of the ten horns, are also symbolical, not meaning ten kingdoms, but some- thing, else, for the discovery of which we have no clue." I am fully persuaded, that there was nothing in the manuscript I submitted to the Doctor, that laid any foundation for these two sentences. I humbly con- ceive that explaining one symbol by another symbol, is no explanation at all. I have said, that mountain means, a great empire. Here the symbol ends ; the thing intended by the symbol is found out. I have said the term horn^ means a kingdom or Dynasty ; and here the symbol ends. Will it follow from my thus saying, that I explain one symbol by another symbol ? Surely it will not. The alignment seems to be this, if the term mountain, be the symbol for a great empire, then the term kingdom is the symbol for a horn. If I have represented the great whore as sitting on seven kings, I think my meaning will appear to 166 have been, that she sat on seven great empires in succession. What she sits on, the texts tell us ; and it is quoted correctly. The great whore is a sym- bolical term. If, according to the Doctor, it mean an apostate Church, this Church is the beast which sits on itself; for he must own that the temporal and ecclesiastic beast are but one person or character. The Doctor candidly confesses that the idea is strongly impressed upon his mind, " that this empire is the Roman, which has existed under seven forms of government." I confess freely, that after examin- ing with attention all that has been said by exposi- tors, in favour of the opinion, that there were seven different forms of government in the City of Rome, I am thoroughly convinced that profane history is against the opinion. But if it were not, the spirit of prophecy clearly and infallibly points out another manner of finding out the seven heads. Daniel mentions the Roman republic as a Dynasty only, and the raiser of taxes, (that is, the Roman Emperors,) stand up in his estate. The beast with seven heads and ten horns, was represented in vision to Nebu- chadnezzar by the image of a man. If it were ne- cessary, I would introduce what authors have said in support of their opinion ; that there were seven forms of government in Rome. I apprehend, however, it is not : because if my method of computing the heads be clearly supported by the prophets, any other me- thod must be against them. I cheerfully submit 167 my argnmcnts to the critical, but candid examination of Christians. I make no remarks on what the Doctor says about the two witnesses ; being persuaded that my general view places them correctly ; that is, before the end of the second wo trumpet, which unquestionably ter- minates in Asia. When I submitted the manuscript to Doctor Ro- meyn, I had very cursorily looked over Faber. I found that he was extremely tedious on things that appeared to me to be of minor consideration ; his reasoning incorrect, and his assumptions visionary. I have since perused him with a little more attention. The following objections, in my humble opinion, are imanswerably against his system. . I. He assigns to the little horn, Dan. vii. which rose up after the ten horns, a full period of 1260 years, in order to confine the characteristic discrip- tions of the little horn entirely to the Papacy. To this it is objected, that neither the Hebrew, nor Septuagint translation, in Greek, will admit of this translation in English, " for the space of 1260 years." And the characteristics of the little horn cannot be found in the Papal Church. II. Faber assumes, that the saints were delivered to the doubly symbolical Papal po\ver precisely in the year 606, in which ye^ he supposes that Pho^as, the Eastern emperor, usurper, and tyrant, made the Papal Hierarchy, a temporal l,)east. 168 1. It is objected that the prophecies give no precise beginning or ending to the Papal authority ; whe- ther temporal, or ecclesiastical. 2. It is objected, that Faber, by assuming the year 606, is driven to the necessity of denying God's su- perintending providence in preserving uncorrupted, very important, and indeed, essential parts of prophe- cy ; and of having recourse to that fountain of cor- ruption, the Septuagint, in order to establish his sys- tem. It is true that 606, and 1260, make 1866. Iix this year, he says, the doubly symbolical beast will end — (there can be no question now about its actually having ended in 1809.) Daniel has said, that from the commencement of a certain vision there would 7/3 00 be 2|00 days, or years, to the cleansing the sanctuary, as we have it in our common version, of the bible ; the Septuagint has 2400 : and Jerome had seen some copies that had 2200. Faber counts back from 1866, and finds that 2200, would begin A. C. 334; 2300, A. C. 434 ; and 2400, A. C. 534. Now, the least number carries us back to the commencement of Alexander's empire, nearly, when Faber supposes the vision commenced ; therefore, instead of the num- ber of days bing 2300, as it is in our bibles, it should be 2200 days ; on such a visionary foundation he erects a mighty fabric. 3. Faber employs many pages to prove, that the ^ittle horn which arises out of one of the four king- doms into which Alexander's sea or empire, wob di- 169 vidcd, intends Mahomet ; making a leap of 900 years^ to get at him. The absurdity is too manifest to dwell upon it at all. 4. Faber's long and laboured discussion respecting the two homed beast in Rev. c. xiii. is, in great part, very little to the purpose, and some of it very incor- rect. The beast with two horns like a lamb, is part of one head ; the beast is one : one of the horns like a lamb, he says, intends spiritual power ; the other horn like a lamb, intends civil power. He says, we have here a double symbol. But both horns are like a lamb ; which, then, is the spiritual, and which the civil, or horn of a wild beast, and not of a lamb ? These ideas surely are incorrect. The plain history of the prophet seems to be as follows : having finish- ed his prophecies respecting the Mahometans and the Eastern empire, he goes back, and commences vv ith the rise of the Western empire, of which he had not before given any account. At its rise it was imperial, though not one half of the great Roman Sea. It however rose out of the Sea ; that is, the Roman empire. Of the head that was wounded, John has given an account, in the fourth trumpet; where we find, that the line of Csesars terminates A. D. 476. John, in several of the first verses of this chapter, gives us general descriptions of the tyranny that would be exercised in the Western empire for a long period of time. — " And power was given unto him to continue forty and two months." The Greek is to make war forty-two months ; which implies, 7' 170 that It shall possess a considerable portion of power for that period, but not so much afterwards. There is no intimation that the power will then end. Now, as the beast that rises out of the sea, and the two horned beast, are closely connected together ; and as John, before he has a vision of the two homed beast, says, that the power shall make war forty -two months, all the three must be embraced by that period ; and if so, it must commence at the division of the great Roman Sea, A. D. 392 ; and of course it terminated 1652 ; at which time Oliver Cromwell made the Vatican itself tremble. Since the year 1652, the Papal power has gradually declined, till it ended, 1809. We do firmly believe, and we think that it is demonstrable, that the Papal power has, no where in prophecy, assigned to it 1260 years. In the Revek' lions there are four distinct periods of 1260 years ; first, the witnesses, and the first woman in the wil- derness ; these are synonymous terms. Second, the Mahometan power, designated by the term Gentiles, who are to tread under foot the holy city, forty-two months. Third, the beast with two horns like a lamb, in the 13th chapter. These three diiferent periods syn- chronize only in part. The period of the witnesses commences at the time of the ascension of our Saviour, and ends 1295. The beast that rises out of the sea, and the two horned beast, commence A. D. 392, and cease to be powerful after 1652. The Mahometan beast commences A. D. 630, and will terminate A. D. 1890. 171 4. The second woman Avhich is to be nourished from the face of the serpent 1260 years, we suppose means a Church in the millennian state. God only knows how far I am coiTcct in my ideas ; and God forbid that I should impose them on any one. AN EXAMINATION THE IDEAS THAT HAVE BEEN AFFIXED TO THE TERMS POWER AND WILL. TO ISAAC OSGOOD, Esct. MY DEAR BROTHER, I DEDICATE the following remarks to you. I know that you think for yourself, and that you are capable to think for yourself. As to some of the doctrinal points of our holy religion, I am sensible, that we dif- fer in opinion; perhaps, some would say essentially. But I trust, you will not say that I differ from you es- sentially : and I assure yoii that I do not pretend to be an infallible judge, as to religious controversies. I have no right to demand that you shall assent to the creed which I make for myself. I am, my dear brother. Yours affectionately, S. OSGOOD. AN EXAMINATION, CHAPTER I. SECTION I. ir/iat the idea of power, and how we come by it. I T has been said, by the most respectable autho- rity, that wc get the idea of power, by the sensible alterations of our simple ideas, which we observe in things without us : and, in the next place, by ob- serving what passes in our own minds, and reflecting on the constant change of ideas, by the impression of outward objects on the senses, and sometimes by the determination of its own choice. Thus it is said that we come by the idea called power. If it were true, that we acquired the idea of power in these three dis- tinct different ways, and mere change of simple ideas, as observed in outward or material objects, impressed the idea on our minds, still we may ask. What is pow- er? But we observe, that in the alteration of our simple ideas, the mind discovers no activity, and that if it acquires an idea of power in this way, there must be more kinds of po\^'er than one ; or nomi- 176" nal powers, which are in fact no powers at all. It will be said, that there must be something to operate upon external objects, so that they produce in us different simple ideas from what we had before per- ceived, and that this something may be denominated power. We grant that it may, provided nothing more is meant by the term, than a mere aptitude in one portion of matter, to operate upon, and produce a change, in another portion of matter. If this be not an improper use of the term power, yet we must be extremely cautious, lest we affix a wrong idea to the term power, thus used. There is another source from which we acquire the idea of real power ; which is, the brute creation. But though we are assured that they are creatures of God, we know nothing of the internal structure of the brute creation, and we cannot separate their power from their instinctive or- ganization, or whatever it may be called. We now have the third way in wliich the idea of power is ac- quired, to examine ; which is, volitions and acts consequent thereon. By the term volition, I mean nothing more than a thought, different from what the mind had, previous to its existence. And by power in an intelligent creature, I mean something that can- not, even in thought, be separated from thought. The idea of this power is acquired only by experience. SECTION II. TFill and Understanding are not tivo powers. WE find in ourselves a power to begin, continue, and put an end to several of our mental actions and 177- bodily motions, merely by a thought of the mind. Thinkini^, implies knowledge and understanding; for without it they cannot exist : and the will being but a mere mode of thinking, it is impossible that the will and the understanding should be two distinct and differcnt powers in the mind^ man, soul, or agent. I find that Locke and Edwards use all these terms synonymously with the term will: if they have af- fixed any precise idea to it that does not embrace the whole man, I have searched their works in vain to find it. Locke gives us the following definition of the terms will and volition : — " This power which the mind has thus, to order the consideration of any idea, or the forbearing to consider it, or to prefer the motion of any part of the body to its rest, and vice versa, in any particular instance, is that which we call will: the actual exercise of that power, or its forbearance, is that which we call volition, or willing.^'* By the definition of tlie term will, it seems to be al- together a dormant power ; and that it can only be discovered by acts of volition. The learned author preceding this definition, had told us, that we find in ourselves a power to begin, &:c. barely by a thought or preference of the mind, ordering, or as it were, commanding the doing of an action. If, by the term power here, be meant the will, and I do not know what else it can mean, then we find that a thought of the mind orders and commands this power, or the will ; and the will then chooses. But why may not a thought of the mind order choice, or volition, 2 A 178 without any such intermediate power as the will? And why does the learned author, soon after his de- finition of the will, say, that it is that which com- mands every other faculty of the soul ? Our ideas are these ; that the terms -will and volition, mean no- thing more nor less, than modifications of thinking. And we lay it down as a principle, that there are three modes of thinking, which every one must experience in himself. First — objects are viewed by the mind simply, without any preference or choice about them. Second — they are viewed with preference and choice. When the mind has made its choice, the act of voli- tion is complete. But if the object of choice be not immediately obtained, then follows the third mode of thinking ; which is, a fixed determination to acquire the object : and this mode of thinking I call wilL When the mind has once made a choice, it never re- peats it : it is an instantaneous act of the mind. But the object chosen may require a great length of time to obtain it ; and duriaig the time, there is a will to obtain it. The learned author says, *' whatever ac-* tion is performed without a thought of the mind, is called involuntary." From all this I conclude, that will and understanding are not two distinct powers of the mind : for understanding is defined to be the power of perception ; and perception and thinking are so nearly synonymous, that it is extremely diffi- cult, if not impossible, to make any distinction be- tween them. 179 SECTION III. Multiplying faculties in the mi?id is a source of great confusion. FACULTY is a term so frequently and so gene- rally used, that it may be thought strange, if we sug- gest that it has no precise meaning. When it is said, that the understanding and the wiil are two faculties of the mind, no reason can be given for calling them so ; because we have shown already, that the rviil is not any thing distinct from the understanding. And further, the understanding is a real existence ; and the will has no existence exclusive of the understand- ing. It is said that the understanding is that in us which perceives ; it must therefore be that in us which prefers : for preference can be nothing else, except a particular kind of perception. Locke seems to think, that the understanding is not a real being in the soul. That the term faculty^ applied to that and the ivill^ has been the occasion of much confusion in men's thoughts, by being supposed, (as he suspects it has been,) to stand for some real beings in the soul, that perform the actions of imderstanding and volition. If faculty, or under- standing, and will, be but mere creatures of the mind, yet it is certain, that there is some real exist- ence in the soul, that perceives and prefers ; and this existence cannot be divided into two distinctly dif- ferent principles of action, without making use of terms that must be destitute of meaning ; and of course be an improper foundation for any kind of superstructure. 180 It is said by Metaphysicians, that the will is the commanding' and superior faculty of the soul ; that it is not free ; that it determines the inferior faculties ; and that it follows the dictates of the understanding. I should be glad to be informed, what is meant by the terms, inferior faculties : for I cannot affix any idea to them. And I do not see with what propri- ety the will can be called the commanding and su- perior faculty of the soul, when it is acknowledged that it is a subordinate faculty, and follows the last dictate of the understanding. Whether the term mind be not an abstract term, that has no independ* ent existence, is a question of some importance ; but apprehending that it is such a term, I shall, when I use it, mean thereby the real existing power of the soul ; expressed by thinking or perceiving — choos- ing, and the luill ; and thus I apprehend we may conduct our thoughts more by the evidence of things, than the mere sound of words ; and thus shall wc find that there is no real occasion for using the term faculties, otherwise than as a mere abstract term, so far as it relates to the operations of the soul, SECTION IV. WE are told that every one finds in himself, a pow- er to do, or not to do : to begin, or forbear, con- tinue, or put an eod to several actions. And tl^at, from the extent of this power over the actions /6i a man, arise the ideas of liberty and necessity. Rest is the natural state of all material, and immate- rial bodies. To put them in motion, requires what is 181 called power ; but to be at rest, requires no power \vhate\er. \\'hen therefore, it is said, that we find in ourselves a power to do, and a power not to do, there is a deception, or a plain contradiction ; for the in- stant that a power ceases to do, it is in a dormant state, and the man or the agent is at rest, as to the particu- lar action he was engaged in : so that it is not only unnecessar}-, but impossible, that there should be a power to do, and a power not to do. Liberty, and its opposite, necessity, can only be predicated of the pow- er to do ; and not of the power not to do, which is no power at all. I cannot conceive how, from the extent of the power of the mind over the actions of a man, arise the ideas of liberty and necessity. Liberty is predicated of power, without taking into considera- tion its extent. What then is its opposite, necessity^ except a negative on power? We are told that all the actions of which \xc have any ideas, reduce them- selves to two, viz. thir.kwg and motion ; and that, so far as a man has power to think, to move, or not to move, according to the preference of his mind, so far he is free. Liberty and freedom, are circum- stances attending power ; not to mov&, requires no power. And where no power is exercised, there is no liberty or freedom. It appears to me that it is as proper to say that a mim is free, according as he has power to think, or not to think, as it is to say, he is free, according as he has power to move, or not to move ; because motion implies thinking, and no mo- tion does not. Now, it is absurd to say that a man has a power to think, or not to think ; and equally 182 so, to say that a man has a power to mbve, and a power not to move. The power of doing and mov- ing, is a positive existing power ; but a power not to do, and not to move, is a negative power, and is therefore, a non-existence. Now, freedom and li- berty cannot be predicated of non-existences; and therefore cannot be predicated of not doing and not moving. It seems to be taken for granted, that when any thing is proposed to the mind to be done, there are always two propositions in the mind ; one to do, and the other not to do. But this cannot be a fact ; a proposition not to do, seems to me to carry its own absurdity with it. If the idea meant to be conveyed by the term ne- cessity, be this, that after volition has actually ta- ken place, the action intended to be produced, cannot be produced ; we will only observe, that this makes necessity consist merely in the want of bodily, or ani- mal strength ; the extent of which, we can only find out by experience. It is a fact, that men often at- tempt to lift a weight which their bodily strength does not enable them to lift : the man, however, chose to make the attempt. The mind often thinks to perform operations, where no bodily strength is required, but fails in the attempt. For example, ma- ny have thought that they could find out longitude, but have failed in the attempt ; so that it is true that necessity takes place, as well where mental ability, as where bodily strength fails. Experience teaches us, that we have but a very limited extent of knowledge ; and where knowledge fails us. we are necessarily desti- 183 tute of it. It seems to be universally granted, that, where there is no thought, no volition, no will, there can be no liberty : but it is said that all these may be, and }et that tliere may be no liberty. If liberty be a peculiar property of thought, volition, and will ; and if liberty cannot be where ihese are not; I do not sec how these can be where liberty is not. I think it may be laid down as a certain truth, that wherever there is thought, volition, and will, there is liberty to the extent of them. Liberty is not an independ- ent existence itself; it is unquestionably a quality of some real existence, and that real existence must cease to be, before liberty ceases to be a quality of it: and thinking, volition, and will, must cease to be, before liberty can cease to be a quality of them. We may therefore conclude with certainty, that li- berty, is not a power in the mind. SECTION V. That which thinks noty has no liberty ^ is not a free agent ; both its motion and rest come under the idea of necessary ^ and are so called. THIS proposition is so evidently true, that we scarcely need to say any thing about it. It is to me a self-evident proposition. As far as the power of thinking is abridged, so far also is liberty abridged : and no other composition, except that of thinking, can enter into our idea of liberty. If we should suppose that there are two distinct powers in the mind, one of thinking and the odier of loco motion, we caimot suppose that they 184 are equal powers, because this Avould destroy the harmonious operations of the mind. The loco mo- tive power cannot be compared with the thinking power, because we have no data whereby the com- parison can be made. Instinctive operations will afford us no ideas in this respect. There is no doubt but many of the actions of a man, are merely instinct- ive operations, and cannot be placed to account of ra- tional thinking- Matter thinks not ; therefore it is not a free agent : but something thinks ; and that some- thing is a free agent. SECTION VI. Liberty cannot be separated from volition. I AM sensible that it is said by the most respect- able authority that liberty does not belong to volition ; and the following argument is adduced in support of the idea. " Suppose a man be carried whilst fast asleep into a room, where is a person he longs to see and speak with, and be there fast locked in, be- yond his power to get out : he awakes, and is glad to find himself in so desirable company, which he stays willingly in ; that is, he prefers his stay to his going away : I ask, is not this voluntary ? I think no body will doubt it : and yet being locked fast in, it is evident he is not at liberty not to stay : he has not freedom to be gone ; so that liberty is not an idea be- longing to volition, or preferring : but to the person having the power of doing, or forbearing to do, ac- cording as the mind shall choose or direct. Our idea of liberty reaches as far as that power, and no 185 ftirther. For Wherever restraint comes to check thai power, or compulsion takes away that indiffercncy of ability on either side, to act, or to forbear acting, there liberty and our notion of it presently ceases." Locke, Chap. 21. Sec. 10. This is a very intricate passage, and requires close examination : and we hope to make it appear that the argument does not touch the proposition, be- cause there is no volition in the case stated. The man fast asleep has no volition, as to being in the room fast locked. In it he prefers staying to going away, but no volition is necessary for his staying, because he is there, and pleased with being there. But he is fast locked in, and could not get out if he thought to do it, or had a volition about it. If he knew he were fast locked in, he could not think how to get out ; and if he had a volition to get out, that volition must be something entirely exclusive of thinking ; but there can be no volition without think- ing upon the precise object chosen, and the means to obtain the object must occupy our thoughts and volitions; otherwise, thinking and choosing would be nugatory. The man thus locked in, has liberty to stay. There is no restraint of his liberty in this re- spect ; but he is restrained as to going away ; and the restraint in this respect is, that he cannot think how to get away : his mind furnishes him with no means by which he can get out. Therefore, unless 2 B 186 there may be volition where there is no thinking, the argument adduced in support of the proposition, viz. ** hberty does not belong to volition," affords not the least support to it. We therefore deny the con- sequence, " so that liberty is not an idea belonging to volition or preferring." Yet, Locke has said, iar the 8th Section, " so that liberty cannot be, where there is no thought, no volition, no will." But here he says liberty does not belong to volition, but to the person having the power of doing, or forbearing to do, according as the mind shall choose or direct. The absurdity here, I think, must be manifest : the mind first chooses and directs the person having the pow- er, and yet the mind is not free in choosing ; but the person having the power, though commanded and dictated to by the mind, is free ; but the mind is not free. By the words, " person having the pow- er,''* \X. is apparent that power must intend mere ani- mal strength, and nothing else : and consequently, a man is free in exact proportion to the animal strength he possesses, if there be in fact any such in- dependent existing power. In this view Sampson had more liberty than has fallen to the lot of *any other man. Locke says, " our idea of liberty reach- es as f^r as that power, and no further. " But what is meant by the words, that power, is past my find- ing out: because it seems to intend an operating power that is subsequent to the minds choosing ; and that it is to carry into full effect, the choice of the mind 187 after it is made. Thus libeity is banished from the mind of man. It is further said, that, " wherever resti"aint comes to check that power^ or compulsion takes away that indiffercncy of ability on either side, to act, or to forbear acting, there liberty and our no- tion of it presently ceases." The liberty of think- ing cannot be checked or restrained by bolted doors, or fetters of iron : so that restraint on, or check to power, must mean some other power, than that of thinking : for this, in a well organized human body, cannot be so totally restrained as to have no liberty. I humbly conceive that the following words, are en- tirely destitute of any rational meaning: "Compul- sion takes away that indifferency of ability on cither side, to act, or forbear acting." We will only ob- serve here again, that to forbear to act, requires no act of the mind. SECTION VII. Jt is said that voluntary^ is opposed to invohmtary — in other words y an act of tJie mind is opposed to that which is no act of the mind. NOW, how an existence can be opposed to a non- existence, exceeds my abilities to find out. Volun- tary is said not to be opposed to necessity, or neces- sary. The opposite of voluntary, be it what it may, Avill afford us no idea, as to what voluntary is. It appears to me that it is extremely difficult, if not im- possible, to make a clear distinction between invo- 18S iuntary, and necessary. An involuntary action, in a being that is possessed of mind, is as necessary, as the motion of a tennis-ball, when struck by the racket. SECTION VIII. 'SC!/ WHAT is liberty ? I answer, that it is not an ex- istence of itself, any more than whiteness, or yellow- ness ; it is a circumstance of the mind, and as the state of the mind is, so liberty may, or may not be predicated of it. Metaphysicians seem constantly to make a distinction between the motions of the bo- dy, and the invisible operations of the mind; but what it consists in, we are not told. It is acknow- ledged that the motions of the body depend on a ihought of the mind ; and that where we have power to take up, or lay aside any thought, according to the preference of the mind, we have liberty. But the taking up one idea, necessarily implies the lay- ing aside of another, and making two acts of volition, necessary to take up a new idea ; that is, one to take it up, and another to lay it aside, is laying a foun- dation for endless confusion. The idea that is laid aside, is necessarily laid aside. Liberty is not a cii'- cumstance of laying aside, but of taking up the new idea ; otherwise there must be a positive, and a ne- gative idea of liberty, which is a palpable absurdity. We therefore object to the following sentence — '' When the mind has power to stop or continue, be- 189 gin, or forbear, any of those motions of the body, or tlioughts of the mind witJun, according as it tiiiiiks fit to prefer either to ^c other, we consider the man as a free agent." A man is unquestionably a free agent, who can act as his mind directs, or chooses to act. It is impossible that liberty should be, or' consist in a positive power to do, and a positive pow- er not to do. SECTION IX. " WHEREVER thought is wholly wanting, or the power to act, or forbear, according to the direc- tion of thought, there necessity takes place." We observe here, that necessity takes place when any one of three things is wanting : first, thought ; second, power to act; and third, power to forbeai' acting. And here power is made a distinct thing from the power of thinking : and a power to forbear, being a negative power, must be a distinct thing from either of the other two. Thought is "wanting in gold. Does necessity take place in gold? It is necessarily what it is. Necessity takes place in the fallen angels, who are confined by the Almighty power of God. But this is a kind of necessity, very distinct from that which takes place where thought is wholly wanting ; and implies compulsion and re- straint. Indeed, I do not see but that compulsion and restraint are a species of necessity. Thought is wholly wanting in the Headien, as to the Gospel system of salvation ; and accordingly, necessity takes place in them ; that is. they are necessarily ignorant 190 of the terms of salvation contained in that system, I cannot think that we ought to carry our ideas further than this. Necessity takes place as to a mo>-. ral being, when he is in a disagreeable or painful situ- ation, and is unable to think of any means that will relieve him from his situation. In this case, thought is wholly wanting. And where thought is wholly wanting, power is equally so ; which is an evidence, that power and liberty belong to thinking alone. I am sensible that it is said, that in an agent capa- ble of volition, where the beginning or continuation of any action is contrary to the preference of the mind, it is calUed compulsion : and that, where the hindering or stopping any action is contrary to his volition, it is called restraint. Compulsion, there- fore, consists in our being compelled to act contrary to our choice ; and restraint consists in our not being permitted to act according to our choice. Adam was compelled to leave the Garden of Eden ; and Ahab was restrained from killing the prophet. It was impossible, in either case, to be otherwise. The compulsion and restraint were the same as necessity. There may therefore be thought, volition, and willj where the moral agent labours under the greatest ne- cessity ; but then these do not reach his particular necessity : and it might be better for him not to have thought and volition, than to have them. Locke says, " that agents that have no thought, no volition at all, are in every thing necessary agents." I should, however, conclude, that in every thing they are no •A \9X agents. The racket which strikes a tenTiis-ball is an instrument, but not an agent. SECTION x. I HAVE compared, with all tlie attention I am capable ot", what Locke says in his 14th section, and 21st chapter, with what preceded it ; and as this sec- tion seems to be a general inference from what hcv had before said, I am fully persuaded that the pre- mises do not warrant the inference. He says, " If this be so, (as I imagine it is,) I leave it to be consi- dered, whether it may not help to put an end to that long agitated, and I think, unreasonable question, viz. Tfhether man's will be free or no ? For, if I mistake not, it follows from what I have said, that the question itself is altogether improper ; and it is as insignificant to ask, whether a man's will be free, as to ask, whether his sleep be swift, or his virtue square : liberty being as litde applicable to the will, as swiftness of motion is to sleep, or squareness to vir- tue. Every one would laugh at the absurdity of such a question, as either of these ; because it is ob-> vious^ that the modifications of motion belong not to sleep, nor the difference of figure to virtue. And when any one well considers it, I think he will as plainly perceive, that liberty, which is but a power, belongs only to agents, and cannot be an attribute or modification of the will, which is also but a power." Locke, in the 6th Section, says, that the ordinary way of speaking is, that the understanding and will are two faculties of the mind: and intimates. that those whQ 192 dallthem so, conduct their thoughts more by the sound of words, than the evidence of things. In the 8th Sec- tion he says, " All the actions we have any idea of, reduce themselves to these two ; viz. thinking and motion; and that so far as a man has a power to think, to move, or not to move, according to the pre- ference of his mind, so far is a man free." We have observed before in part, and we observe now more fully, that to place liberty in a power not to move, is, according to Locke, to place it in that of which we have no idea. There is no motion, no action, in not moving. But if we grant that we have an idea of such a state, it is impossible that it should ever help us to the idea of liberty ; because such a state can never help us to the idea of motion j and where there is mere thinking, without the power of moving at all, and where no motion has ever been perceived, I think it is impossible that there should be any idea of liberty. Consequently, the idea of liberty arises from two distinct perceptions of the mind ; viz. thinking and motion. And where there is the power of thinking and motion, there is liberty. We say nothing here about human restraints, as they are merely adventitious. We will now examine this 14th Section, which at present we think contains the most unguarded, un- founded opinions, that ever fell from the pen of the distinguished author of it ; and has no connexion with any thing that precedes it, except mere asser- tion. He says it is altogether improper to ask whe- ther a man's will be free or no. I confess, however. 193 that I see no impropriety in the question : for a man's will is free, or it is not free. If the question had been put thus — Is a man's will free ? and the learned author had sho\\'n that freedom is to the will, as motion is to rest; that is, that they are precisely contrary^ to each other, he might then say, that it would be as improper to ask whether the will be free, as to ask whether sleep be swift. It is true, that the modifications of motion do, not belong to sleep : but it is not true, that the modifications of thinking do not belong to the will. And this idea the author virtually holds, in these words, — " So that liberty cannot be, where there is no thought, no volition, no will." The next argument is, " Liberty is but a power, and belongs only to agents, and cannot be an attri- bute or modification of the will, which is also but a power." Thus liberty is a power, and will is a power. And yet the author complains of making too many supposed distinct powers in the mind, as having a tendency to influence us to be governed by sound, and not by sense. Being well persuaded, that liberty is not a power ; and further, that any one may, with a little attention, plainly perceive, that it is not; that it is impossible that it should be. We may therefore conclude, that predicating liberty of the will, is not predicating one power of another. We take liberty to be a mere property of power, and not power itself Figure constitutes no part of our idea of virtue, but enters essentially into our idea of bo- dy. It is not, however, body itself. The idea of 2 r m liberty is only acquired, by our experiencing the ef- fects of power : for restraint, compulsion, and ne- cessity, help us not to the idea at all, unless we will say, that the absence of a thing will give us an idea of the thing itself. The author says that liberty belongs only to agents ; and thus makes an essential distinction be- tween the will and an agent : one is free, and the other is not free. But the author himself makes the will an essential part of an agent. How then can that which is an essential part of an agent be not free, and yet the agent be free ? To say that the agent is free, seems to be only removing the object of our inquiry further from our sight. If liberty cannot be an attribute of the will, it must be because the will is not really an existing power in the mind. But, that man has something existing in him, which is properly called tvill, has been the universal voice of mankind. At present, I rest satisfied, that the term will means one of the simple modes of think- ing ; and that liberty may be predicated properly of all the modes of thinking; otherwise no rational meaning whatever can be affixed to the term. SECTION XI. EVERY one must confess that it is no easy mat- ter to give clear notions of his internal actions by sounds. Though we know not how thinking is per- formed, yet we have satisfactory evidence that we actually think ; and by thinking, we perceive, that in ordering, directing, choosing, and preferring, thought 195 is constantly employed ; and that it is essentially re- quisite to their well bcin^, or that they should be as they ought to be. \\'e think that the i^rm. preferring is a more general term than tliat of volition : and that though volition always implies preference, yet this does not always imply volition. It is said, that a man prefers flying to walking, but that he never wills it. Having no means whereby we can ascertain the fact, we may safely say that it is not a fact. The learned author, in his 15th Section, says, " Volition, it is plain, is an act of the mind ; know- ingly exerting that dominion it takes itself to have over any part of the man, by employing it in, or holding it from, any particular action. And what is the will, but the faculty to do this?" Here the will is defined to be the mind, knowingly exerting actions of the mind. If an agent has a mind, and be free, then if the will be the mind, it must also be free. That the will has solely respect to a particular state of the mind, I have no doubt ; but I cannot think that the will is the mind, knowingly exerting actions of the mind ; because, in this view of the matter, there can be no distinction between will and mind : and yet the learned author speaks of them as essentially different things. " And is that faculty, (will,) any more in effect than a power — the power of the mind to determine its thoughts V In this sentence I do not perceive that one power is predicated of another power ; but I plainly perceive, that there is no distinction between the power of the 196 will, and the power of the mind : so that whatever be the power of the mind, that is precisely the power of the will : and if the will be not free, neither the mind nor the agent can be free : for I presume no one will say that that can be an agent which has no mind. But the power to determine thoughts, if it act pre- viously to thinking, and previous to thought, we may as well compare it to the racket that is made to strike a tennis-ball, as to any other thing. This power, be it what it may, is able " to produce, continue, or stop any action, as Jar as it depends on us. For it cannot be denied, that whatever agent has power to think on its own actions, and prefer their doing or omission, either to the other, has that faculty called will. Will, then, is nothing but such a power." By these last words, " such a power," the author must mean " power of the mind." The mind has not power to prefer and not to prefer at the same time ; and it has not power to prefer, or choose, more than one thing at a time. If a man be using bodily exercise, and chooses rest, this choice puts an end to such exer- cise : so, if he be at rest and chooses exercise, it puts an end to his rest. The acts of volition are distinct, and employed about one object at a time ; but never about doing and not doing ; because it is impossible that we should choose to do, and not to do, at the same time. Such, says that learned author, is the power of the will. Now let us see what he says of liberty. " Li- berty, on the other side, is the power a man has, to doj or forbear doing any partielar action, according 1 197 as its doing or forbearance has the actual preference of the mind, which is the same thing as to say, ac- cording as he himself wills it." If liberty be a power, it is a power of the mind; and thus the power of the mind is the same as the power of the will, and the power of liberty ; that is, there is no distinction between any of them ; they are all synonymous terms. And what may be meant by the words " on the other side," I cannot find out. It is apparent, that the author conveys this idea, that when the power of the mind has performed its own functions, then another power executes the choice of the mind. But we have denied that liberty is any such power. And further we have, and do deny, that liberty is a power at all : and we are persuaded that every reflecting mind must clearly perceive that it is not. Viewing liberty as a power, has been the occasion of endless debates, and nonsense about the freedom of the will. SECTION XII. WE think it will clearly follow from what we have said, that there is no power in the mind, exclusive of thinking, that determines thinking, or thought : and that there is no power in the mind exclusive of think- ing, that carries into full execution the volitions of the mind. As the learned author has pursued the same ideas to his 26th Section, and then undertakes to point out what determines the will, we will follow him, after making a remark or two. Jt must be apparent to every one that the same ar- 198 guments, with little variation, are repeated over and over again. And further until we know what ideas to affix to the term will, it will be in vain to attempt to find out what determines the will. The learned author, in his 16th Section, says, *' It is j)lain then, that the will is nothing but one power, or ability ; and freedom another power, or ability : so that to ask whether the will has freedom, is to ask, whe- ther one power has another power ; one ability an- other ability." Here the learned author takes for granted, without attempting to prove it, that liberty or freedom is a power of the niind, man, or agent. We trust, however, that we have already shown that it is not so. " Who is it that sees not that powers belong to agents, and are attributes only of substances, and not of powers themselves?" Here it is also taken for granted, without an attempt to prove it, that there are more powers than one in the mind, man, or agent : for if there is but one power, that of think- ing, and it cannot be divided into parts, this sentence of the author can have no application. " So that this way of putting the question, viz. whether the will be free ? is in effect to ask, whe- ther the will be a substance, an agent ? or at least to suppose it, since freedom can properly be attribu- ted to nothing else.*' If the soul of man be a sub- stance or substratum, inherent in which is a pecu- liar power; I cannot conceive how liberty can be an attribute of that substance, and not of the power itself. The soul of man impUes substance, or sub- 199 stratum, for the power that inheres in it. Now I think it is impossible that liberty should be an at- tribute of the substance, and not of the power inhe- rent in it. And further, I think, that not the sub- stance, but the power inherent in it, should be an agent. If agency belong not to the power of the mind, it is impossible to say to what it does belong to ; and if it be improper to ask whether the will be free ? it is equally improper to ask, whether the mind be free ? and if this be an absurd question, be- cause the mind is not free; then every question about freedom will be absurd ; and there can be no freedom in man : and how any one came by the idea of that which does not exist, must for ever remain a mystery. " If freedom can with any propriety of speech be applied to power, it may be attributed to the power that is in a man to produce, or forbear producing, motion in parts of the body, by choice or preference; which is that which denominates him free, and is freedom itself." Here liberty is unquestionably at- tributed to the power of the mind, which directs the parts of the body as it pleases: but why does the author say, " if freedom can, with any propriety of speech, be applied to power?" I ask, whether it can with any propriety be applied to any thing else ? If it can, I confess I have not found out the thing to which it may be applied. And notwithstanding the author ridicules the idea of asking the question whether freedom be free ; and thinks the person asking the question deserves Midas' enrs : vet if freedom and 200 liberty are signs for a power in the mind, as the au- thor says that they are ; then to ask whether that power be free, is a proper question. SECTION XIII. " THE term ''faculty,'^ applied to the will, it is supposed, has been the " occasion of much incor- rectness as to our ideas about the will ; because, it leads us to suppose, that the will itself acts ; which disguises its true sense, and perplexes the mind with -iibsurdities." But, if the to-rm. faculty mean power and ability, (and what else it can mean I know not,) then to apply it to the will cannot be improper, if we allow the will to be any thing in the mind. The learned author, in his 17th Section, says, " However, the mime Jaculty, which men have given to this power called the will^ and whereby they have been led into a way of talking of the will as actings may, by an appropriation that disguises its true sense, serve a little to palliate the absurdity ; yet the will, in truth, signifies nothing but a power, or ability, to prefer or choose. And when the will, under the name faculty, is considered as it is, barely as an abi- lity to do something, the absurdity in saying it is free, or not free, will easily discover itself." I readily confess I am not able to understand this passage, so as to make any sense of it : for these words, " the will as acting^'''' clearly hold up the idea, t|;iat the will docs not act. And the following words are as explicit that the will does act ; if pre- ferring and choosing be actions, which I presume no 201 one will deny — " The will, in truth, signifies no- thing but a power or ability to prefer or choose.'* What the next sentence amounts to, except to as plain a contradiction as the foregoing, I do not know. *' When the will, under the name of faculty, is con- sidered barely as aji ability to do something, the ab- surdity in saying it is free, or not free, will easily dis- cover itself." What that may be which is free, and is not free, I cannot conceive. The idea of the au- thor is, that it is absurd to say that the will either is, or is not, free. The author plainly holds, that the will is, and is not free. This is the only absurdity that easily discovers itself to me. After speaking of tlie absurdity of making a speaking, a walking, and dancing faculty, by which those actions are produc- ed which are but several modes of motion ; yet he says, " If those are faculties, we may as well make the will and understanding to be faculties, by which the acts of choosing and perceiving are produced ; which are but several modes of thinA-ing.''^ Had the author constantly adhered to the ideas, that choosing and perceiving are but different modes of thinking, it appears to me that it would have been impossible that he should have fallen into such a labyrinth of error, contradiction, and nonsense. I presume no one vv ill say, that we may not, with strict propriety, ask, whether the modes of thinking are free ? And I should think it would be absurd for any one to take the negative side of the question. If the faculties of singing and dancing were two distinct faculties in 2 D 202 the mind, both of them might be exercised at one and the same time. But the modes of thinking, in order of time, follow one another, and cannot be ex- ercised at one and the same time. Simple thinking is one mode of thinking ; preferring and choosing, ac- cording to the author, is another mode of thinking ; and the state of the mind, in the pursuit of the ob- ject, after the choice is made, is a third mode of thinking : and, at present, I apprehend, these are all the modes of thinking. SECTION XIV. IT sometimes happens, that they who caution us against errors, fall into them themselves. Much is said in order to impress on our minds the propriety and necessity of not multiplying faculties and powers in the mind : but it is equally proper not to define the power of the mind in such a manner as to leave no power in it. We are told that the power to do an action is not operated upon by the power of doing another action. And this necessarily supposes more powers than one in the mind ; which is certainly in- correct. And also, that the power of thinking ope- rates not on the power of choosing, no more than the power of dancing on the power of singing; and *' this is it which we say, when we thus speak, that the will operates on the understanding, and the un- derstanding on the will.'* I do not perceive but this makes two distinct faculties or abilities in the mind ; nor that it can be reconciled with what had been said, viz. that choosing and perceiving are but several 203 modes of thinking. Hence it is evident, that these words have little or no sense in them, however true they may be : — " the power of thinking operates not on the power of choosing ;" that is, the power of thinking does not operate on itself: for this is the amount of what is said ; and we do not gain any new idea by it. It is ver>' gratuitously granted, that this or that ac- tual thought may be the occasion of volition, or ex- ercising the power a man has to choose ; or the ac- tual choice of the mind, the cause of actual thinking ©n this or that thing. If thought may be the occa- sion of volition or choosing, it will, I think, follow from this, that choosing is not a mode of thinking, as the author has said that it is : we grant that there may be thinking without volition, but there cannot be volition without thinking. I do not see how the actual mode of thinking can be the cause of actual thinking on this or that thing : for this would make choice precede all ideas of the object chosen ; which is a palpable absurdity ; for it is making one thought choose another thought, before it is perceived. But it is said, that in this it is not one power that ope- rates on another ; it is tlie mind that operates and ex- erts these powers ; it is the man that does the action ; it is the agent that has power, or is able to do. Here it is \aken for granted, that there are more powers than one in the mind, in the man, in tlie agent. When it shall be proved that there are, perhaps we may assent to what is here said. The ?nindj the man^ the agent, are one: but the power exerted i^ 204 not one : but why not, we are not told. We arc toid that powers are relations, not agents. How are powers relations? How njany relative powers are there ? For, if there be but one power, viz. that of thinking, it can hyve no relation to any other power, except that of the Deity. The soul has power to perceive objects, by the instrumenti»,lity of the eye ; and to hear sounds by that of the ear : and if these be two powers, I pray to know what may be the re- lationship between them ? And if that which has the power, or not the power, to operate, is that alone which is, or is not free ; and if freedom, or not free- dom, can belong to nothing but what has, or has not, a power to act, I pray to know how it is possible to predicate freedom of any thing but the power that acts ? And if there may be any other thing that it may be predicated of, I pray to know what that thing is ? for to say that it is the man, the agent, does not elucidate the matter at all. The man, the agent, is nothing without power ; and if freedom be predica- ble of the man, the agent, without power, it may with propriety be predicated of a non-entity. The mind or soul thinking, is in the exercise of the pow- er of thinking ; and if it had not such power of thinking, it would not think at all. The thinking power is a graduated power ; and freedom is in ex- act proportion to its graduation. SECTION XV. THE argument of the learned author, in his 20th Section, should have proved to us the proposition 205 first laid down ; viz. Liberty belongs not to the will. But 1 do not perceive that what is said, is either for or against the proposition. If the term faculties has had improper ideas affixed to it ; if they have been spoken of as so many distinct agents in man ; it af- fords no evidence that the will is not free. Some- thing in man, it is acknowledged, is free ; and whe- ther that which is free, be the will, or something else, seems to me to be of ^•cry trivial consequence. The man is free ; but what is he free to do ? To will ? No, says the author ; but the will is the commanding power of the soul, and is not free. All the freedom then a man has, is to obey. It is stated that an intel- ligent being has a will, and that it is essentially neces- sary to him : yet that that essentially necessary thing is not free. — This is a mystery, as yet unexplained. In the 2 1 st Section we have a fallacious reason given, why it is not proper to ask, whether die will be free ; but whether the man be free. I say falla- cious, because, if the reason proves that the man is free, it also proves that the will is free ; it being im- possible to separate a man from his will. If we al- low the man to be free, but not the will, it is only saying that the man has, and that the will has not, power ; and that freedom is not applicable to that which has no power. And if the man be free, it is enough ; and why need we perplex ourselves any further about the matter ? The answer here is easy. If metaphysicians and polemic writers always used the term ivill^ not intending thereby any power whatever in the n\ind, ^ve might safely stop here ; but the fact is. 206 that they insensibly, or without consideration, fall in- to the error of using the term xvill, for the man : and when it is incautiously used for the term man, it is, notwithstanding, considered as having no power ; it is not free. I am convinced that there is some ex- istence in the mind, that at times may properly be called will ; and that, be it what it may, it is as free as the man. I say at times : for though the power may be permanent, it is not always in a state of ex« ercise ; and if it be the third mode of thinking, it is impossible that it should be. I am convinced, from this circumstance, that the will is something; be- cause they who make it nothing, are obliged con- stantly to make use of the term, not finding any other appropriate term by which they can express their ideas. And the confusion that arises from their use of the term is this-— they never have affixed any precise ideas to it. It is said, that " any one is free, so far as he can, by the choice or du'ection of his mind, preferring the existence of any action to its non-existence, and vice versa, make it to exist, or not exist. For if we can by a thought, move a finger, when at rest, or vice versa, tis evident, that in respect of that we are free." Here the term mind, as in numberless other places, is used ; but I cannot think that mind and will are synonymous terms ; because the mind, though it embrace the will, yet it embraces more than the will ; and the mind itself without the will, could not move a finger that was at rest. But this argument does not show, that the will is not free. ^D7 and that tlie man is free. ** Preferring of action to its absence, is the willing of it.'* Now the willing of action, is the mind's prefering action. What then is tlie will ? If will be a part of an intelligent being that is free, I pray to know why it does not parti- cipate of that freedom ? We will assume, that intel- ligent power is the essence of, or at least tlie essen- tial part of, a moral being; and we presume that this will not be denied. But such power cannot be made up of sundry particular powers : and therefore, according to the author, the modifications of this pow- er must be like the modifications of space. They are all simple ideas, because there is no mixture of heterogeneous parts ; that is, the author says, space divided into parts, are simple modes. So we may say, that intelligent power, divided into parts, are simple modes, there being no heterogeneous mix- ture in them. Now let us assume a portion of space, and say, it is moral power ; capable of divi- sion into many parts ; and let us assign to these seve- rally the terms, thought, mind, will, volition, judg- ment, suspension, &c. Now, they all being simple parts of the same kind, without any mixture, they all make up but one simple idea, signified by the term mind ; the parts of which are mere simple modes, as the author says that divisions of space are. 208 SECTION XVI. j4 power of doing, and not doing, is not that which constitutes an agent free. IT is so continually repeated, that the freedom of an agent consists in a power to do, or not do, prefer- ring and not preferring, choosing and not choosing, that it is necessary to examine carefully, whether there be not in these positive and negative terms, an evident sophism : a deceptive display of acuteness even in contradiction. Doing and not doing are both of them considered as positive actions ; both of them the effects of preference, thought, or volition: and in the power of doing and not doing, freedom is placed. We may rationally ask, what do the words not doing, mean ? can there be in not doing, any act whatever of the mind ? For example : I am at rest, my thoughts are employed about moving ; but I do not choose to move : now being at rest, no act of the mind is required to continue me so. Be- ing at rest and asleep, no act of the mind is neces- sary to continue me at rest and asleep. If a man be moving, it requires a change of thought to be at rest. If he be at rest, it requires a charge of thought to be out of that state. But in these, there is but one object about which the mind is employed : for doing one thing always excludes the doing of another. We have power to change our thoughts, otherwise there would be no preferring, or choosing ; but we have not power not to change our thoughts, because in this case no power is required. We ought not to say any thing more than tliis. A moral agent has power 209 10 do; for all volitions are real actions of the mind — and wc find out by experience only what we can do> and what we cannot do. But the words, doing and not doing, choosing and not choosing, evidently convey this idea, that there are two objects about which the mind is employed, and that it must choose the one or the other of them : it cannot be otherwise. This, however, is not a fact in any case where the agent is actually in possession of one of the things. When the mind is contemplat- ing two objects for the purpose of making a choice, neither of which are in possession of the agent, the mind is under no absolute necessity of choosing cither of them. To be the servants of God, requires preference, choice, volition; but to be the bond slaves of Satan, there is no need of preference or choice ; we are so, without any choice or preference. The will can never exceed tlie bounds of thought, because it is nothing more than a modification of thinking ; and we camiot think to do, and not to do at the sam€ time, SECTION XVII. IT is asserted that in respect of willing, a man is not free ; but a question has been started, is he free to will ? And this question is supposed to be the same as asking, whether the will be free. But I apprehend that they are very different questions. "To will," must be intended " to choose," to exert an act ot the will, which is the same thing as an act of choice. If 2 E 210 a man then be a distinct thing from the will ; and a man, and not the will, chooses, it would be a palpa- ble absurdity to say that the two questions are the same : for one is, is the man free to choose ? and the learned author has so often asserted that the man is free, and that the will is not free, that it becomes of importance to know what those acts of the man are which are free, and what those are which are not free. What are the acts of a man, except thinking, choos- ing, and a determination to acquire the object cho- sen ? Is a man free to think, but not free to choose, which is a mere modification of thinking, and not free to have a determination to acquire the object chosen, which is but another modification of think- ing ? We take no notice of animal strength, because we have no certain knowledge of any such thing, and because it has nothing to do with the question of freedom. Now, if a man has only those three kinds ©f mental actions, and also really has them, it is ma- nifest that we cannot speak intelligibly, without gi- ving them three different names : for simple thinking does not imply choosing ; but thinking and choosing generally, if not always, imply determination and Avill : the mind is in a different state after the choice is made, from what it was before. The choice of the mind we consider as an instantaneous act ; after which there may be a fixed determination of the mind for a great length of time, which I understand to be signified by the term wf//; if it have any meaning. It must, therefore, be evident, that tlic question, — Is a man free to will ? is not the same aJi 211 this — Is the will free ? because the term man em- braces much more than the term will. In this view of the matter, the accountability of a moral being is placed precisely in acts of preferring and choosing, and not in the will at all. SECTION XVIII. WHEN it is said, as it often is, that willing, or volition, is an action, and that freedom belongs to the power of acting or not acting ; and that a man, in respect of willing, when an action in his power is once proposed to his thoughts, as presently to be done, cannot be free, because it is unavoidable, that the action depending on his will should exist, or not exist ; and its existence or not existence, following perfectly the determination or preference of the will, he cannot avoid willing the existence or non-exist- ence of that action ; that it is absolutely necessar}'' that he will one or the other, since one of them must necessarily follow : and that which does follow, fol- lows by the choice and determination of his mind ; that is, by his willing it ; so that in respect of wil- ling, a man is not free. On these remarks we observe, that willing, or vo- lition, implies power of action ; and that if freedom belongs to a power of acting, it may as well belong to the power that chooses, as to any other supposed GT unkno\vn power. I say unknown power, because a power of acting, distinct from the power of choos- ing, cannot be found in the human mind. Further ; it is not a fact, that a man, in respect of willing, 212 when ail action in his power is once proposed to his thoughts, as presently to be done, is not free : for it is palpably absurd to say of that which is actually a non-existence, that a man cannot help willing its non- existence ; it is so, without any will of his about it. Choosing is an ivisible act of the mind, discoverable only by overt acts, or the mind exerting such acts as will convince others that that mind has actually made its choice. Let us examine, and consider well the following case : — The joys of eternal life are offered to a siimcr upon the terms of the Gospel ; he does not choose eternal life, with all its joys, on those terms. In this case, he does not make two, or any choice, about it. He does not choose existence or non-existence. He does not exert any act of choice whatever in the case. As to sin, he is in possession of it ; and no act of choosing is necessary, to place him in such a state as that of a sinner. When any one shall have demonstrated, that not choosing and not doing are real acts of the mind, then we must allow, that the non-existence of a thing depends upon an act of the mind, however absurd it may be. Do- ing and not doing, choosing and not choosing, re- late to one single object in the mind ; and the fallacy seems to l?y in this, that we make two complete ob- jects of that one object ; and that the mind is actually t^mployed about both of them ; and the phrase be- comes familiar, though it really have little or no sense in it — to do, or 7iot to do ; to choosey or not to choose. Not doing and not choosing, are no doing and no choosing j and to apply freedom, or the want 213 of it, where no power is exercised, is nonsense : for freedom more especially belongs to power in ex- ercise. Let tlie object about which a man Ls tliinking be the writing of a letter ; but he docs not write it. There is, in this case, no act of choice exerted ; be- cause such an act requires a real change in tlie mind. If it be said that he has two objects in his mind, viz. to write and not to WTitc, I beg leave to ask, what sort of an object not to write can be in his mind? He is not writing, and to continue in that state, re- quires no act of volition. The confusion seems to arise from a positive and negative proposition : and if the miiKl could, at the same moment, make two choices, one for the existence, and the other for the non-existence of a thing, then it would be free. Thus it appears to me, that freedom is placed in an impossibilit}-, which is attached to the man or agent, as well as to the power of choosing. Action is placed in a double capacity — as acting, and not act- ing. Previous to the existence of any action, it is not an existence ; and no act of choice is necessar}' to make it so : but an act of choice is requisite to give existence to action. Now, though we should grant, that an action depending on an act of choice, must exist or not exist, yet the non-existence of it does not depend on volition, but the existence of it ; and therefore the mind, in the exercise of its power of choosing, must be as free as any other concci^'ablc power in man. There are no negative acts of choice. 214 SECTION XIX. IT is said, that in all present proposals of immediate action, a man is not at liberty to will or not to will, be- cause he cannot forbear willing ; liberty consisting in a power to act or forbear acting, and in that alone : for a man that sits still, is said yet to be at liberty, be- cause he can walk, if he will it. The act of willing is supposed to be a necessary, and not a voluntary action, according to the distinction that we have found to be made between the words necessary and voluntary. And in order to show that an act of choice is necessary, it is said that a man is not at liberty to will or not to will. The reason is, that he cannot help willing ; but why not, is left unexplained. We presume that we have already shown that it is not true, that a man cannot forbear willing ; and if I at- tempt again to place the argument on paper, it is be- cause the author has, in nearly sixty sections, re- peated over and over again, the same thing. In order to see whether a man cannot forbear willing, we will endeavour to simplify, as much as possi- ble, the object about which the mind must be think- ing, when a proposal of present action is made to it. A man is at rest ; he has made sure of it by a pre- vious act of choice ; and no new act after the first is requisite to keep him in that state. In this state there is a proposal of present action, viz. to move ; but he does not move ; there is no act of choice to move ; there is no willing in the matter. The ob- ject is dismissed from the mind. How, then, can it 215 iJe said, that there can be no forbearance of willing ?. If it be said that he wills rest, this is not true ; un- less willing be repeated every moment a man is in a particular state ; unless one act of willing in choos- ing God for our portion, be insufficient. And simi- lar acts of willing are necessar}' every moment a man continues in that state, which I humbly conceive is a ver}- gross absurdity. A man being at rest before, and at the time the proposal is made to move ; and continuing to be at rest, notwithstanding the propo- sal, there being no change of the mind ; it being in the same state after, as it was before the proposal was made and laid aside, is complete evidence, that he can forbear to will. If this be not a forbearing to will, I should be glad to know what it is. If, then, liberty consist in a power to act, and forbear acting, and in that only, it is evident, that liberty may be as properly ascribed to the will, or the power of choosing, as to any other power in the mind. The great, and sole argument the author adduces to show, that the power of choosing is not a free power, is, that it cannot choose, or forbear choosing ; but that power to which liberty is solely applicable, can do, or forbear doing. If this argument fail, as I am sure it does, I do not see but the author's whole sys- tem fails. The fallacy is this, — it is taken for grant- ed, that a proposal of present action cannot be dis- missed without action or volition ; but that when it is made, an act of choice necessarily ensues, cither for or against it. ^la SECTION XX. IT is said, that, " since it is plain, that in most ca- " ses a man is not at hbertj whether he will will^ or " no ; the next thing demanded is, whether a man " be at liberty to will which of the two he pleases, ** motion or rest ? It is said, that this question car- " ries the absurdity of it so manifestly in itself, that " one might thereby be sufficiently convinced that *' liberty concerns not the will ; because, to ask whe- " ther a man be at liberty to will either motion or rest, " speaking or silence, which he pleases, is to ask, " whether a man can will, what he wills ? a question " which supposes onfe will to determine the acts of " another ; and another to determine that, and so on *' infinitum." This is to me a very mysterious passage. If we could suppose a man to be neither in motion, nor at rest, an act of choice would be necessary for him to be either in motion or at rest. But a man is always in motion or at rest ; and a single act of willing changes him from motion to rest ; or from rest to motion. This question, whether a man be at liberty to will which of the two he pleases, motion or rest, carries its own absurdity with it ; for a man being at rest, is not at liberty to will which of the two he pleases. If he wills at all, it must be to move : and if he be in motion, it must be to rest. It is evident, that mo- tion and rest cannot be the objects of choice at the same time, unless the man be neither in motion noT 217 ;4t rest. If the question cany its own absurdity with it, how does this concern the question, Is the will free? I cannot, after mature deliberation, perceive how it has any tendency in the least to convince us, that liberty concerns not the will ; nor how an ab- surd question proves that the will is not free. But there is a reason given why it docs ; and I venture to say that if no one had seen it, it never could be found out by guessing, or any other way. The purport of it is, that a man is certainly at liberty to will what he wills. If any one can make any sense out of the whole of tliis, he can do more than I can. SECTION XXI. IT is said, that " it must be carefully remembered, " that freedom consists in the dependence of the ex- ** istence, or not existence, of any action, upon our " volition of it, and not in the dependence of any ac- " tion, or its contrary, on our preference." We remark here, that we don't know what is meant by these words, *' Freedom consists in the de- pendence of the non-existence of any action, upon our volition of it." It seems to be taken for granted, that volition does something, but what it is precisely, I do not perceive. The action seems to be something that takes place after volition, and to be brought into existence by some other power than that of volition. The term preference^ is not used here for an act of 2 r 218 choosing, and only serves to perplex ; for it takes away- all meaning from that part of the sentence with which it is connected. If it meant the same as choosing, there would have been a palpable contradiction in the passage; what is affirmed in one part, would have been contradicted in the other part. It is manifest, upon reflection, that there is a state of the mind after It has chosen an object, which me- taphysicians and polemic writers have not designated by a name. If I may be allowed the expressions, it is the visibly active state of the mind ; in other words, it is the will. By making the will that power in us which chooses, the powers of the mind seem to terminate here, and no other power of the mind is left to execute our volitions : for it would be absurd to say, that it is the will in the constant exercise of acts of volition. Every one must be sensible, that a single act of volition appropriates the object chosen to himself, though it may not be acquired for a great length of time. The state of the mind, during this time, is a state of visible exertions : and in these alone, it ap- pears to me, Locke has placed all the freedom that is in man. And yet these actions take place in conse- quence of volition. But why they should be free, and volition not free, he certainly has not given us to understand. He says, that " the will being nothing but a power in the mind to direct the operative fa- culties of a man to motion or rest, as far as they de- pend ou such directions — to the question, what S19 is it determines the will ? The true and proper an- swer is, — ^the mind." Thus he makes the mind a self-determining power ; and I apprehend that he must mean that the mind determines the will by thinking, or by a thought. And if thinking belong exclu- sively to the mind, and not to the will at all, I ask, what possible use can there be of a will in the hu- man mind? It is precisely making two different causes for one and the same effect : for the mind is generally omitted, and the will is made the efficient cause of volition : and when we have, by habit, fixed it in our minds, that the will is the cause of volition, we can then, with great ease, prove logically, that neither the will, nor any thing else, is free in the mind. Acts of choice are founded in faith and opinion, as well as knowledge ; but the will has nothing to do with faith, opinion, or knowledge : and if not, the term wz7/ ought to be banished from the vocabulary of metaphysicians and divines, not only as a useless term, but as having been the occasion of long and angry debates in the world, about the free- dom of the will, in the sense, if there be any, as used by them. CHAPTER ir. An examination of some of the leading doctrines of President Edwards on the Freedom of the WilL HIS author, ii^his "Inquiry into the modern prevailing notions of that freedom of the will which is supposed to be essential to moral agency, virtue and vice, reward and punishment, praise and blame,''' has, in a great measure, adopted Locke's opinion re- specting the freedom of the will. The sole design of this author, is to prove that Calvinists, in respect of their ideas of the freedom of the will, are correct, and that Arminians are not. If he has refuted the opinions of the Arminians, it does not follow of course that Calvinists are right. If Locke's chapter on power establish Calvinistic tenets, he did not think so himself : for in a letter to Limborch, long after this chapter, as we now have it corrected, was printed, he says, that, in order to satis- fy himself as to the doctrines of Calvinism, he pro- cured Calvin's and Turretine's works, and read them with attention, and found that they were unintelligible to him ; that he could not comprehend their system. Thus we see two men, distinguished for their abili- 221 ties, entertaining nearly, if not exactly, the same opin- ions about the will : yet Locke is considered as an Arminian writer ; and Edwards is the great bulwark of Calvinism. If ever a man \vrote for the truth, Locke appears to me to have been that man. On the other hand, it aj^pears to me, that Edwards \vrote for a cause. Edwards, p. 2. says, " the will^ without any mata- physwal rejiruvg^ is plainly that by which the mind chooses any thing. ^"^ However plain this may be, it af- fords us no idea of the meaning of the term will ; lor if the mind chooses by the will, then the will does not choose at all, unless mind and will be synonymous terms, or unless the term will express a mere single act of the mind ; and we are to understand by it, the mind in the actual state of choosing. In either of these senses, it is not plain that the mind chooses by the will. " If any think it a more perfect definition of the will, to say, that it is that by which the soul either chooses, or refuses, I am content with it." This pretended definition of the term, will^ is not only li- able to the foregoing objections, but also to a further evident inconsistency, which is that, refusing to choose^ is a real act of the mind ; a real choice. Further, we have here substituted the term soul, f^or the term mind. In a disquisition upon a subject so in- tricate, an adherence to the same term is not only proper, but necessary. It is acknowledged that the will itself does not choose : it is said, the mind, the souly the man, and the agent, choose by the will ; and 222 that freedom may be predicated of any of those four terms, but not of the will. If any of those four terms, or what is signified by them, chooses by the will, it is plain enough that liberty must be ascribed to them, and not to the will ; for they are powers, and liberty cannot be predicated of any thing that has no power : consequently not of the will, which is represented as a mere instrument, not unlike the racket which strikes the tennis ball. If this idea of the will were precisely adhered to, we should never find it used for a power ; but forgetting one part of the definition, the term will is substituted for the mind, the soul, the man, the agent ; and not forgetting the other part of the definition, that will is not free, the term ivill is substituted in the room of any of those terms, and becomes the sine qua non of moral agency : whereas, according to the definition, it has nothing more to do with moral agency, than the shuttle driven by the hand of man. The author says, " in every act of re- fusal, the mind chooses the absence of the thing re- fused. The positive and negative are set before the mind for its choice, it chooses the negative : and the mind's making its choice, in that case, is properly the act of the will : the will's determining between the two, is a voluntary determining ; but that is the same as making a choice." We observe here, that it is a plain contradiction, to say, that that is a choice, which is no choice at all ; and if refusing to choose, be not a negative as to choice, it is impossible to say what is. All the acts of choice of the mind are positive, and it is impossi- 223 ble that a negative choice should have any existence. We observe further, that wc have laid here the foun- dation of endless error and confusion, in these words — " The mind's making its choice, is properly an act of the wilU^ This is not true, according to the defi- nition, " the will is that by which the mind chooses ;'^ for here the mind acts by tlie will ; of course the ^vill does not act at all. If the mind act by the will, is it possible, that the will should act by, or without the mind ? There cannot properly be any act of the will, unless the term be used very improperly ; that is, synonymous with mind^ soul^ ma7iy agent. " In every act of the will whatsoever, the mind chooses one thing rather than another ; it chooses something rather than the contrary, or rather than the want or non-existence of that thing." This sentence directly contradicts what had been said before, viz. The mind chooses the absence of the thing refused — - it chooses a negative. But this is not all that is ob- jectionable ; for here we have the act of the will, and yet it is the mind that chooses : and if it does not choose without acting, then one choice requires two acts : that is, an act of the will, and an act of the mind, if the will acts at all, which it certainly does not. Ac- cording to the author, therefore, it is absurd for him to say, that there are acts of will. The author says. Sec. 2. p. 6. " By determining the will, if the phrase be used with any meaning, must be intended, causing that the act of the will or choice, should be thus, and not otherwise.'' Here the will is again introduced as an active prin- 224 eiple, both as acting, and being acted upon. Yet if the mind or soul chooses by the will, and is the active l;hinking principle in us, that active thinking princi- ple operates upon the will, which thinks not at all ; and so the will becomes the arbiter and determiner of all our thoughts, and acts of volition. If we were governed by such reasoning, we should be governed by the sound, and not by the sense of Words. But he proceeds, " the will is said to be determined, when, in consequence of some action or influence, its choice is directed to, and fixed upon a particular object.*' If there be action and influence on the will, there must be a cause capable of producing that action or influence, in consequence of which the will chooses ; so that if the will be an agent at all, there must be two agents in order to produce one act of the will ; for there cannot be action, except there be a power ca- pable of acting. There is then a power that precedes and acts on the will : and the will is a power that chooses, in consequence of that preceding power acting upon the will. Therefore one act of volition requires two active powers, and so it may a hundred, or a hundred million, on this scheme ; that is, there may be powers preceding each other, in infinitum. And this is precisely the contradictor)-^ method of reason- ing, which we shiill hereafter find that the author at- tempts to run those into whom he opposes. *' To talk of the determination of the will, suppo- ses an effect, which must have a cause. If the will be determined, there is a determiner. This must be sup- posed to be intended even by them that say, the will 225 determines itself. If it be so, tlie will is both deter- miner and determined ; it is a cause that acts and pro- duces effects on itself, and is the object of its own in* fluence and action." The author not having given any intelligible defi- nition of the term will, he may make it what he pleas- es ; but his reasoning about it must be altogether fancy and conjecture. The design of the author in this unintelligible argument is, to show the absurdity of his opponents. The acts of the will are choosing ; but to say that there is a determination to choose be- fore an act of choice, is absurd : for it is making two things essential to choice, a determination to choose, and actually choosing. If the mind chooses by the will, it is not the mind that determines the will ; and then die will chooses ; but it is the mind itself acts. And the proper question is, what determines the mind to choose by the will ? and to this question there can be but three supposable answers. First- Causes and effects ad infinitum : for example, what de- termines the mind, and what determines that which determines the mind, and so on. Secondly — God determines the mind to choose by the will. And thirdl}' — God has given power to the mind to choose by the will. Now if the mind be nothing, then it is God himself that chooses by the will ; and as the es- sence of sin consists in wrong choosing, and actions necessarily flowing from such choice, the consequence is inevitable, that God is the author of all the sin in the universe ; which is a blasphemous doctrine. There- 2 c 226 fofe we siiy, that God has given power to the mind to choose objects according as it distinguishes, or per- ceives in them any thing of convenience, comfort, or excellency. Objects are the sine qua non of choice ; but they have no active influence in producing choice. The action is all in the mind. This argument seems to be formed so as not only to convict the author's opponents of absurdity, but to establish the doctrine, that the will is not free. And the strength of it is evidently this — If the will be a power, and that power be capable of acting it- self, it is not that power that acts of itself; but it is some other power that influences or determines that power to act : therefore the will is an effect which re- quires a cause. This argument takes all for granted, and proves nothing. If the will is determined, there must he a determiner. This we cannot take for granted ; and the author will warrant us in saying, tliat it is not true ; because it is predicating one pow- er of another power, if the term -will^ here be used as a power, or to signify a power : if not, I presume it will be evident to every one, that there is no argu- ment. The assumption that the will is both deter- miner and determined, is absurd ; because it takes for granted that there are two active powers in the mind ; which we cannot agree to, until we see it ful- ly proved that there are, and that one of them acts upon and produces effects in the other. Both Locke and this author have decided that powers do not be- long to powers. Locke says, but erroneously, that liberty is a po^ver and the will is a power, and is not 227 free, because one power does not belong to another power: that is, powers act independently of each other. " With respect to that grand inquiiy, what deter- mines the will ? it would be very tedious and unne- cessary at present, to enumerate and examine all the various opinions which have been advanced con- cerning tliis matter ; nor is it needful that I should enter into a particular discussion, of all the points de- bated in disputes on that question, whether the will always follows the last dictate of the understanding ? It is sufficient to my present purpose to say, it is that motive, which, as it stands in the view of the mind, is the strongest, that determines the will." By motive, I mean the whole of that " which moves, excites, or invites the mind to volition, whether that be one thing singly, or many things conjunctly." It is here conceded that the inquiry, what deter- mines the will ? is a grand one. It is however de- cided, that the strongest motive in the mind's view de- termines the will. We do not hesitate to say, that this decision is incorrect ; because we have no idea of any connexion between the mind's view of the strongest motive, and the determination of the will. If the mind and will be two distinct powers, it is absurd to say, that the power of the mind determines another power of the agent ; or to say, that the mind has more powers than one. And if the will be not a power, the question, what determines the will ? is easily an- swered. The mind cannot operate upon that which neither, as spirit nor as matter, has any existence ; 228 therefore it does not determine the will. At first sight, the assertion seems to be a plain and evident truth, upon which the mind j)asses judgment imme- diately, without a moment's reflection. We certainly act as we think, and that object is a motive, ground, or reason, for action ; and for our thinking to act, which is for the present moment most agreeable. But it never can be true that the mind determines the will in the way stated. If the will be a power, it must be at least a part of the mind ; and if the mind determines the will, it determines a part of itself, and may as well de- termine the whole of itself. For if one part of the mind can determine another part of the mind, sure all the parts can determine the whole mind, unless they be essentially different : but this cannot be. The mind is not made up of heterogeneous parts. The soul is the substratum of one power, whose opera- tions appearing variegated, are subjects, or objects of the mind's contemplation. " Whatever is a motive in this sense, must be something that is extant in the view or apprehension of the understanding or perceiving faculty : nothing can invite, or induce the mmd to willy or act any thing, any further than it is perceived, or some way or other in the mind's view : for what is wholly unperceived, and perfectly out of the mind's view, cannot affect the mind at all. It is most evident that nothing is in the mind, or reaches it, or takes any hold of it, any other- wise than it is perceived or thought of." I am happy to find, that we are at last told that thinking is essential to choosing ; for I apprehend S29 that the wbrds, " induce the mind to will,''* must mean, ^' induce the mind to choose ;" and if the mind chooses, it is not the will that chooses. The author says, " tliat it must be true, in some sense, tliat die will always is as the greatest apparent good is." Whether this assertion be correct or not, cannot be ascertained, until we know in what pre- cise sense the term will is here used. If the asser- tion amount to any thing more than this, the mind thinks as it thinks, and acts as it thinks, I have not been able to discover its meaning. The mind un- questionably acts as it thinks at the time of action. The choice of an object, if it had often been perceived before, without any excitement, arises from a new and different perception of the object. The mind per- ceives something in it that it never perceived before, and has therefore an entire new idea about it ; and without this new idea, it would never iiave been chosen. Some of these new ideas make a very faint impression on the mind ; and the zeal to acquire the object after it is chosen, is in proportion to the impression, very little. Sometimes they make a deep and lasting impression, and then the zeal is propor- tionably great. Between this new idea, and choosing the object, there can be no distinction. And if not, it is impossible that any such supposed faculty or pow- er as will, should have any concern in choosing an ob- ject. The author has given many reasons, why things appear agreeable to the mind; but not perceivmg 230 that they have any connexion with the will, no notice will be taken of them. He says, " it appears, from these things, that in •some sense the will always follows the last dictate of the understanding ; but then the understanding must- be taken in a large sense, as including the whole fa- culty of perception or apprehension, and not what is merely called reason and judgment. If, by the dic- tate of the understanding, be meant what reason de- clares to be best, or most for the person's happiness, taking in the whole of its duration, it is not true that the will always follows the last dictate of the under- standing. Such a dictate of reason, is quite a dif- ferent matter from things appearing now most agree- able." On this passage, we remark, that we know not what ideas to affix to the words, " dictate of the understanding.'''' The will is said to be the com- manding and governing faculty of the man. Now the understanding dictates to the will. I apprehend, how- ever, that no rational meaning can be affixed to these phrases. The understanding being taken for the power of perception, or that power in the mind which perceives, I do not apprehend that it can be taken in a larger or smaller sense : and I do not think, tliat there is any distinction between the whole faculty of perception, and that perception which is called reason and judgment. Perception is perception, and nothing else. But we find that the understanding not only percei^'cs, but it dictates to. Is it to itself, or to some other intelHgent faculty in the mind? For a ^31 dictate to mere matter, or any insensible tiling, or non- existence, is an absurdity. That the perceiving pow- er should dictate to itself is absurd, and not more so than that it should dictate to an inferior intelligent principle. Perception and dictation have not any perceivable connexion. If by the last dictate of the understanding, be meant the last new idea or thought of the mind, the sense may be plain, but the words are very improper to express this sense. In sec 2. p. 16. we find as follows : " If the imme- diate objects of the will are, a man's own actions, then those actions that appear most agreeable to him he wills." I know not what can be meant by " the immedi- ate objects of the will ;" nor how a man's own actions can be the immediate objects of the will, unless we make the wi/l stand for the mind, the understanding, the soul, the man, the agent, and any other terms, if there be any such, that express all the power or pow- ers of a moral being. But this would destroy the author's definition of the will, which is, that " the will is that by which the mind chooses." Sec. 3. p. 18. and on, treats of the meaning of the terms Necessity, Impossibility, Irresistibility, Inabili- ty, Contingency, &.c. In entering into an examination of the author's meaning of these terms, scarcely a gleam of light af- fords me its friendly assistance, in attempting to ex- plore the impervious way. It is suggested, that, as these terms are frequently used in controversies about free will, their meaning 232 should be clearly understood. Until we are told pre- cisely what the will is, we cannot determine whether it is free, or is not free : nor can we find out, what connexion or relation those terms have with the will. " The word necessary, as used in common speech, is a relative term, and relates to some supposed op- position made to the existence of the thing spoken of, which is overcome, or proves in vain to hinder or al- ter it. That is necessary in the original sense of the word, which is or will be, notwithstanding all sup- posable opposition. To say that a thing is necessa- ry, is the same as to say, that it is impossible it should not be : but the word impossible is manifestly a re- lative term, and has reference to supposed power ex- erted to bring a thing to pass, which is insufficient for the effect : as the word unable is relative, and has re- lation to ability, or endeavour, which is insufficient : and as the word irresistible is relative, and has always reference to resistance which is made, or may be made, to some force or power tending to an effect, and is insufficient to withstand the power or hinder the effect. The common notion of necessity and impossibility, implies something that frustrates en- deavour or desire." What tendency all tliis has to elucidate any of the acts of the mind I cannot perceive : for it seems to me that the power spoken of, refers us to some power that is, or may be, exerted after volition has taken place, and therefore it must mean a power to produce external actions. There is nothing more evident^ than that oftentimes after an object has been chosen, 233 it requires great and constant exertions to acquire the object : and whatever is here intelligibly said, I refer to this state of the mind. I apprehend that there is an evident contradiction in saying, that there can be any relation between positive and ncgati^•e ; thinking and not thinking ; choosing and not choosing. Thinking cannot oppose thinking, nor the will, the will. Op- posing a thing that does not exist, is at least paradox- ical : and an opposition that is overcome, must im- ply some animal power, which overcomes some oth- er power of the same animal ; but what relation there may be between these powers, between one opposition opposing another opposition, is, I am apt to think, impossible to find out : in truth, it does not seem that there can be any relation between them. If two balls, one a 42 pounder, and the other a 12 pounder, should be discharged from two cannon, and should directly meet each other in their progress, the momen- tum of the small ball would be insufficient to over- come that of the large ball. The comparative mo- mentum of the one, would be greater than that of the other. But I have not found in such cases, the terms relative momentum used : nor do I perceive any re- lation between the two momentums. It is impossi- ble for God to lie. Now I pray to know what rela- tion there is between the possible, and impossible things of God ? or between positive ability and ina- bility ? for I cannot perceive any. " These terms, necessary, impossible, irresistible, and unable, do especially belong to controversy about 2 H 234 liberty, and moral agency, as used in the latter of the two senses, viz. as necessary or impossible to us, and in relation to any supposable opposition, or en- deavours of ours." It was first said, that these terms do especially be- long to controversies about free will; and now, to controversy about liberty. But free will and liberty, are not synonymous terms ; and therefore, there does not seem to be any propriety in saying, that the said terms belong to controversy about both of them. If they are related to, or belong to liberty, then we have a necessary liberty, an impossible liberty, an irresist- ible liberty, and an unable liberty : or if liberty be a power, as Locke says it is, then these epithets may be applied to that power. And as the author is con- fident that the will is not free ; so I am as confident, that, if these epithets may be properly applied to li- berty, liberty itself is not free. " As the word necessity, in its vulgar and common use, is relative, and has always reference to some sup- posable insufficient opposition ; so when we speak of any thing, as necessary to us, it is with relation to some supposable opposition of our wills, or some vo- luntary exertion, or effort of ours to the contrarj-. For we don't properly make opposition to an event, any otherwise, than as we voluntarily oppose it. Things are said to be what they must be, or necessa- rily are, as to us, when they are, or will be, though we desire and endeavour the contrary ; or try to pre- vent, or remove their existence ; but such opposi- 235 tion of ours always ether consists in, or implies oppo- sition of the will." The autlior's meaning of the terms relation and op- position^ are very recondite and abstruse ; and may upon investigation, be found to contain such a so- phism, as Locke's power to do, and not to do. We will endeavour to trace the author's ideas as well as we can. 1st. The word necessity, in its vulgar and com- mon acceptation or use, is relative, and has always reference to some supposable insufficient opposition. For example : A stream of water obstructed by a dam, is constantly increasing in power, till it becomes superior to that of the dam, and sweeps it away. I ask, in what sense is the insufficient opposition of the dam relative ? Natural philosophers compare a great- er with a less power, and ascertain, as accurately as they can, what proportion there is between one pow- er and another. But I have not read of any attempt being made, to find out the relation between two dis- tinct and independent powers. We know that pow- ers may be compared together ; but wc have no data to find out what, and whether any relation may be between them : and if there was, a knowledge there- of would not give us any light, as to the operations of the mind. * " When we speak of any thing as necessary to us, it is with relation to some supposable opposition of our wills, or some voluntary exertion or effiDrt of ours to the contrar}^*' &cc. The incorrectness and absurdity of this assertion, 236 we will attempt to demonstrate ; and we trust it will be no difficult task. We say, that when we sperik of any thing as necessary to us, it is not with relation to some supposable opposition of our wills ; and that it is impossible that it should be, if the mind itself con- stitute the connexion between the cause and effect. Necessary and necessity are not intelligible terms, otherwise than by effects. We shall not include in our observations any of those motions and actions^ which may arise from mere instinct, of which it is probable that there are more than we are apt to think ; nor those which arise from ungovernable passion. If the event take place, as to us personally, without any act of choice of our own ; if, foreseeing this events we chose to exert ourselves to prevent it, and are not able ; then there is no difference between this event, and the event that happens, from what the author calls the vulgar and common notions of necessity. A greater power overcomes a less power ; and if this be the author's meaning, it affords us no light whatever, as to the operations of the mind. But if the author means that one power of the mind op- poses another power of the mind, we think we have already demonstrated, that this can never be the case. It would be absurd to say, that that which chooses ever opposes itself. The idea is no less absurd, than what Locke conveys by these words, " a power to doj and not to do; "thereby placing one power of the mind against another power of the mind. According to the author, the will cannot oppose any thing, except it be the mind ; for he siiys, the mind chooses by the 237 \\ ill. And after the mind has chosen by the will, I ask, what fuitlier has the will to do ? I presume no- thing — for the author says, when a thing is chosen, the work is done, and nothing more remains to be done. We conclude, therefore, that to talk of the will's opposition, is saying something to no purpose, or it is saying something that is absurd. " 'Tis manifest that all such like words and phrases, as vulgarly used, are used and accepted in this man- ner. A thing is said to be necessary when we can- not help it, let us do what we will. We are accus- tomed, in the common use of language, to apply and understand these phrases in this sense ; so that the idea of a relation to a supposed will, desire, and en- deavour of ours, is strongly connected with these terms : and if we use the words as terms of art, in another sense, yet, unless we are exceeding circum- spect and war}', we shall insensibly slide into the vul- gar use of them, and so apply the words in a very in- consistent manner. This habitual connexion of ideas, will deceive and confound us in our reasoning, where- in we pretend to use these terms as terms of art." What the author is here cautioning us against, and what he wishes precisely to establish, is not very evident. As far, however, as I understaud the words, they convey no meaning whatever. To what is vulgarly and commonly called neces- sit}^, the author affixes three ideas. First — A great and prevailing power. Secondly — A less and insuf- ficient opposing power. And thirdly — An effect. When we use the specified terms, as terms of art, we 5238 must not use them in this sense, but in some other sense, that makes an event as sure and certain to us, as the events that happen from natural causes. Now, what this other sense is, we are not told : and I do not believe this author, or any other, could tell us what it is. And I do not think we are let into the secret, by being told, that the idea of a relation to a supposed will, is strongly connected with these terms : for we may say, that there are relations when no such things ever existed. The idea of a relation to a supposed xvill, is not strongly connected with the specified terms ; because, as commonly used, no such relation is supposed ; and the idea of such a relation, (if there be any,) must arise from extraor- dinary and incorrect refinement. We will make use of the example we have before used. A dam is un- able to oppose the power of the water ; it is burst, and the waters pass off. But supposing a man stands behind the dam, and perceiving that he was in immi- nent danger, should put his shoulder to, and help the dam to resist the power of the water ; the opposition, though insufficient, would be voluntaiy. If this case of opposition does not reach the author's ideas, we will state another, and use the term mind, as the author ought to ha\e done ; because, he says it is the mind that chooses; and that the opposition is voluntary, which implies choice. The mind of man voluntarily opposes the Gospel system of salvation — the opposition is insufficient — the mind is overcome, and embraces the system ; but then there is no longer any opposition. When the mind voluntaril} 239 opposes it, it opposes some other thing— it never op- poses itself. When the mind opposes, it is suppos- ed that there is something more powerful that op- poses the mind : but what this something is, we are not told. We observe further, that it is manifestly- absurd to say, that while a man is walking, he is vo- luntarily opposed to rest ; and that choosing to rest, he .overcomes that voluntary opposition ; because, this is representing the mind as acting always dou- bly, or for and against itself ; as when it chooses to walk, at the same time it chooses not to rest ; which is manifestly absurd. " It follo\vs from what has been said, that when these terms, necessary, impossible^ irresistible^ unable, 8vC. are used in cases wherein no opposition, or insuf- ficient will, or endeavour, is supposed, but the very nature of the supposed case itself excludes and de- nies any opposition, will, or endeavour, these terms are not then used in their proper signification, but quite beside their use in common speech." We will make but a short remark here. The mind never opposes itself; and if the specified terms, as applied to the mind, mean opposition to itself, they are, thus applied, manifestly absurd. And if they be not thus applied, but to some extrinsic op- poser of the mind, they are, thus applied, nothing to the author's purpose. That the mind should oppose itself, is impossible : that other things may oppose it, is no secret ; nor do we stand in need of those hard terms, to make us sensible that our minds have powerful external opponents. The author says, that 240 we cannot use the specified terms, without reference to a supposabie opposition, will, or endeavour ; and if we do, we use them nonsensically, or in a sense diverse from their original and proper meaning. Now, as we are not told what is their original and proper meaning, the assertion will not be taken for granted to be true. " It appears, from what has been said, that the terms necessary, impossible, irresistible, unable, &c. are often used, by philosophers and metaphysicians, in a sense quite diverse from the common use, and original signification : for they apply them to many cases in which no opposition is supposed, or suppos- abie. Thus they use them, with respect to God's existence before the creation of the world. So with regard to many of the dispositions and acts of the divine Being ; such as his loving himself, his loving righteousness, hating sin, &c. So they apply them to many cases of inclinations and actions of created intelligent beings, angels, and men, wherein all op- position of the will is shut out and denied, in the very supposition of the case." From this we may fairly infer, that the terms can have no meaning in heaven, though it be said, it is impossible for God to lie : and none in hell, if we believe the poet, who snys, — Devil with devil damn- ed firm concord holds: no meaning in any part of the universe, except amongst us miserable inhabit- ants of the terniqueous globe. The words can have no meaning, unless the mind may be opposed agninst 241 itself; or that intelligent beings be opposed to one another. " Philosophical necessity is really nothing else, than the full and fixed connexion between the things signified by the subject, and predicate of a propo. sition, which affirms something to be true. When there is such a connexion, then the thing affirmed in the proposition is necessary, in a philosophic sense, whether any opposition be supposable in the case or no.'' " When the subject and predicate of the proposi- tion, which affirms the existence of any thing, either substance, quality, act, or circumstance, have a full and perfect connexion, then the being or existence of that thing is said to be necessary, in a metaphysical sense. And in this sense I use the word necessity, in the following discourse, when I endeavour to prove, that necessity is not inconsistent with liberty." We have now three different meanings given to the term necessity. First, its vulgar and common meaning, signifying opposition without will — Se- cond, opposition of the will — and thiidly, metaphy- sical necessity. And in this sense, necessity is not inconsistent with liberty. If liberty be a power, or a circumstance of power, it is utterly inconceivable how liberty can consist in the existence of what is affirmed of the subject of a proposition : for the ex- istence of the affirmation is no power. But it seems that we must carry along with us two distinctly dif- ferent ideas ol the term necessity : first, opposition 2 1 of will ; and secondly, the existence of what is af- firmed in a proposlioru And here we observe, tliat opposition of will overcome, if it be a power, is a power hindered from acting ; consequently, we can- not say that liberty belongs to it : for according to the author, the hindering of a power to act, is de* priving it of its power to act. As the word necessi- ty, in a metaphysical sense, is said to be not incon- sistent with libeity ; we confess we do not precisely apprehend, v/hat is meant by the words metaphysical sense ; yet we must know what is the meaning of the terms metaphysical necessity^ before we can decide whether it is, or is not, consistent with liberty. If metaphysics treat of spirit, and the operations of spirit, then I presume that metaphysical necessity, if there be any such thing, should relate to the secret acts of the mind, such as thinking, and acts of choice, which are invisible actions. If this be the meaning of the term, metaphysical necessity, then, Cain killed Abel, is not true in a metaphysical sense : the external act is only expressed by the proposition. But Cain thought, and chose to kill Abel before he perpetrated the horrid deed, is true in a metaphysical sense. The subject and the predicate here, had a full and perfect connexion, before tiie act of the mind could be visible to any one, except his Maker. Now will any one say, that Cain had not the power to do what he did, or to think, and then choose as he did, before he had actually made the choice ? And wil any one say, that liberty did not belong to, or was not a cir- cumstance of that power ? and that if liberty had been 243 taken from this power, Cain never would have killed Abel ? W'c therefore say, that that power in Cain, Tvhich thoui^ht and chose to kill Abel, was free, and that there was a full and perfect connexion between the subject and predicate. If this be tlie meaning of metaphysical necessity, I readily grant that it is per- fectly consistent with liberty. But I am fully satis- fied that the terms metaphysical necessity, lead to de- ception and error, and ought not to be used in this case. If, however, the terms metaphysical necessity are to have these ideas affixed to them, that Cain had no free power to think and choose as he did, before he had actually made the choice, and the subject and predicate were mentally connected, that is, that he had determined in his own mind to kill Abel ; then, I say, that metaphysical necessity is an absurdity, and totally inconsistent with liberty : because liberty is not a circumstance of power which connects an effect with itself; but of cause, connexion, and effect. And from this it would seem to follow, that until God had actually created, he was not free to create. It is said, that the subject and predicate of a pro- position that affirms the existence of any thing, may have a full and perfect connexion, in and of them- selves : because it may imply a contradiction, to sup- pose them not so connected. Thus the external ex- istence of being, generally considered, is necessary in itself. But this proposition amounts to no more than this, what is, is : and it is impossible that it should be otherwise. The subject and the predicate are the same — the predicate only affirms the exis- 244 tencc of the subject. Locke has placed a just esti- mate on such general maxims : they have little or no tendency to increase our stock of knowledge. Thus God's infinity and other attributes are necessary. This will also resolve itself into a general maxim, in which the predicate affirms nothing new of the sub- ject, or nothing but what is really in the subject it- self. The idea of God, implies his infinity and oth- er attributes. They are, they exist ; and the word necessary cannot imply any thing more in it, than this. Thus it is necessary in its own nature, that two and two should make four — this is another of those general maxims. Thus again, it is necessary that all right lines drawn from the centre of a circle to the circumference, should be equal. We grant it is so, but this is in its own nature a general maxim, affirming nothing more, than that all equal lines are equal ; or that a circle will cut the radii at equal dis- tances from the centre of it. All these are necessary truths ; but of no importance in this disquisition. Again it is said, that it is necessary, fit, and suita- ble, that men should do to others as they would that they should do to them. This is one of those ideal eternal truths, which throws no new light on our in- quiry. Whenever the predicate affirms nothing. of the subject but what was always inherent in it, the proposition may be justly considered as a trifling one. But we are told further, that the " subject and predicate of a proposition, which affirms something to be, may have a real and certain connexion conse- 945 qucntially, and so the existence of the thing may be consequentially necessary : all future tilings are ne- cessarj- only in this u'uy." \Vc observe here, tliat the question is not, whether things are as they are, after they have come into ex- istence ; but how they came to exist after this and that manner ? A future existence, after it has come uito existence, exists consequentially, and not an- tecedently. I have said, and I still say, that all re- sponsibility- lies in volition, which is a secret act of the mind. The mind is a permanent existence, but volitions, which are acts of the mind, follow one another. One volition may be the sine qua non, but not tlie active cause of another volition. As to the passage quoted, we ask this simple question. Does it amount to any thing more than this, what is, is ; and what will be, will be ? If it was intended that it should amount to any thing more, it is either begging the main question, or it is totally irrelevant to it. Something that is to exist in future, ^^•hen it comes into existence, must unquestionably be connected with something that had previous existence, and it is impossible it should be otherwise : and if the term necessary be applied to such existence, I ask, whe- ther it be in the vulgar, philosophical, or metaphysi- cal sense of the word necessity ? or whether it be not more especially in the philosophical sense, which the author in his treatise discards *? It certainly agrees with the definition given of the philosophical sense of necessit)' : and this, the author says, is the neces- sit}' which especially belongs to controversicii about 246 the will. But that metaphysical necessity is not in^ consistent with liberty. Now, as no future existences depending on the mind come into existence otherwise than by thinking, there must be one mode of think- ing that especially belongs to the will, not incompatible with necessity in a philosophic sense "c and there must be another mode of thinking, not incompatible with necessity in a metaphysical sense, which is not in- compatible with liberty. I leave it to the reader to find out, if he can, these enigmas. The author having finished his remarks on vulgar, philosophic, and metaphysical necessity, proceeds in the fourth section, to " the distinction of natural and moral necessity and inability." I had thought that necessity had been represent- ed to us under every possible shape : but it is now to assume a natural and a moral appearance : " That necessity which has been explained, consisting in an infallible connexion of the things signified by the subject and predicate of a proposition, as intelligent beings are the subjects of it, is distinguished into natural and moral necessity. I shall not now stand to inquire whether this distinction be a proper and perfect distinction ; but shall only explain, how these two sorts of necessity are understood, as the terms are sometimes used, and as they are used in the following discourse. The phrase moral necessity^ is used variously : sometimes it is used for a necessity of moral obligation : sometimes by moral necessity, is meant that apparent connexion of things whicli is the ground of moral evidence^ and so is distinguish- 247 ed from absolute necessity, or that sure connexion of things, that is, a foundation of inHillible certainty. In this sense, moral necessity signifies much the same as that high degree of probability which is ordinarily sufficient to satisfy, and to be relied upon by mankind, in their conduct and behaviour in the world, as they would consult their own interest and safety, and treat others properly as members of so- ciety.*' A single remark will suffice here : The necessity here spoken of, relates to external objects that make an impression on the mind. The operations of the mind, after the impression is made, are not touched upon. Nothing more here is implied in the terms moral necessity, than the first, or simple mode of thinking ; for if the objects were not percevied, the mind could not think about them. *' Sometimes by moral necessity^ is meant that necessity of connexion and consequence which arises from moral causes, as the strength of inclination, or motives, and the connexion there is in many cases between these, and such certain volitions and actions. And it is in this sense I use the phrase moral neces- sity in the following discourse.'' The mind is so framed by God himself, that it necessarily receives impressions from external ob- jects ; and none but God himself, could so frame the mind, as that external objects should make such an impression as to become objects of choice ; and that if they do not, we should be responsible for their not being objects of choice to us ; or for choosing oUier f\ 248 objects, which were never intended to be objects of choice : for transgression cannot consist in negative, but positive acts of the mind. The author means to use the phrase moral necessity^ in what follows in his discourse, in this sense, the connexion there is in many cases, (he does not say all, J between volitions and actions, a?jd inclination or motives. As to the term inclination, it is too vague to be used in a dis- quisition so abstruse as the author's. All the mo- tives, or grounds of action, which are of the most essential importance to man, are exhibited to him by God in his revelation. Are the motives sufficient to produce acts of volition ? God knows : and as he has said, he will punish, where they do not produce correspondent volitions, I think we ought to take it for granted, that they are ; not as a meritorious condition of salvation, or not as a condition which, if executed, merits salvation, but as a sine qua non of it. These remarks, however, I make cursorily, not wish- ing to decide positively at present about them. So far as they, arise out of the passage, they merit at- tention. If the motives contained in the Gospel are insufficient to produce volitions and actions, the passage quoted, does not merit a moment's consi- deraiion. Necessity of connexion, and necessity of consequence, are indeed words ; but to me they are without meaning. This necessity of connexion and consequence, viz. strength of inclination and mo- tives: these being external of the mind, I do not perceive how they are moral causes; for I appre- hend, that in propriety of speech, a moral cause is >.> 249 a cause that thinks : therefore motives may be a sine qua non of moral action, but never can be, strict- ly speaking, moral causes. " Moral necessity, may be as absolute as natural necessity, that is, the efibct may be as perfectly con- nected with its moral cause, as a natural necessary effect is with its natural cause. As therefore it must be allowed, that there may be such a thing as a sure and perfect connexion between moral causes and ef- fects, so this only is what I call by the name of mo- ral necessity." We may grant all that is said here, yet be none the wiser as to this question, what is liberty ? If the mind be the cause of moral actions, moral neces- sity must imply actions of the mind ; and it would be strange indeed, if actions of the mind were not sure- ly and perfectly connected with it ; and as strange if they were connected with it before the mind gave them existence. How do they come to be surely and perfecdy connected with the mind, not being self-existences, nor existences co-temporary with the mind ? Because the mind has liberty to give them existence, and without such liberty they never could ha\e existed. It is therefore absurd to say that all the liberty a man has, consists in the sure and per- fect connexion of the mind with its own actions. Li- berty must be solely a circumstance of the power that is the cause of the actions ; and these are an evi- dence of liberty in the cause that produces them. But the author never raised his views above mere consequents, and their sure and perfect connexion 2 K 250 with their antecedents, which nobody ever doubteci of or denied, either in a natural or moral sense. It is acknowledged that "^the nature of things, is con- cerned in both natural and moral necessity. " I do not mean to determine, that when a moral habit or motive, is so strong, that the act of the will certainly follows. This is not owing to the nature of things ; but these are the names that these two kinds of necessity have usually been called by : and they must be distinguished by some names or other : for there is a distinction or difference between them, that is very important in its consequences : which differ- ence does not lay so much in the nature of the con- nexion, as in the terms connected. The cause, with which the effect is connected, is of a particular kind, viz. that which is of a moral nature; either some previ- ous habitual disposition, or some motive exhibited to the understanding ; and the effect is also of a par-^ ticular kind, being likewise of a moral nature, con- sisting in some inclination or volition of the soul, or voluntary action." If this passage amounts to any thing more than this, that there is an essential difference between spirit and matter, I am yet to leani what it is. Why does the author exhibit to our minds the operations of mere matter so often ? It is impossible that they should afford us aiiy ideas of the operations of spirit. There is a strange mixture of material and immate- rial operation, compounded and decompounded, that have pervaded almost every passage that we have hitherto met with. if.i 251 Moral habits and motives, are supposed to l^e na- tural, and to be tlie causes of acts of tlic will. But moral habits and motives do not think ; and if some- thing that docs not think, be the cause of action in somctliing that does think ; then something that does not think, is the cause of the acts of the will, or rather of the mind, and no reason can be given for a distinction between natural and moral necessity ; nor for saying,.that that necessity whichis called natural, in distinction from moral necessity, is so called because mere nature, as this word is vulgarly used, is con- cerned, without any thing of choice. How far inclination and desire, which are not acts of volition, arise merely from that inlet of ideas and knowledge, called sensation ; and how far moral acts of volition arise from the other source of our ideas and knowledge, viz. reflection, might be a useful in- quir}'. The correctness of the following sentence, must arise from reflection, * do to others, as you would have them do to you.' Sensation being the source of passive knowledge, and reflection imphing that knowledge wliich arises from the active operations of the mind, the great mystery about moral neces- sity seems to be this : after the existence of an ef- fect, it has a sure connexion with its cause : and if the cause necessarily produced the effect, then accord- ing to the definition given us of necessity, the cause had a perfect connexion with some previous cause, and so on in infinitum. All this absurdity arises from placing liberty where it never can be, or exist, to wit, in cause, connexion, and effect. If it could 252 possibly be thus placed, moral necessity, and indeed natural necessity, would not be inconsistent with li- berty. I am sensible that the author's definition of liberty in his 5th section, places the existence of it, after actual volition : but it unquestionably belongs to that power which can choose, before it connectsT- any eifect with itself. It is a circumstance of jthat power, to which it would be improper to apply the term necessity, signifying thereby, cause, connexion, and effect. Connexion and effect, are evidence of power and liberty that existed previously to them. Power itself implies liberty ; and without it, is not a power to any purpose whatever. " It must be observed, that, in what has been ex- plained, as signified by the name of moral necessity, the word necessity is not used according to the ori- ginal design and meaning of the word ; for, as was ob- served before, such terms, necessary, impossible, ir- resistible, &c. in common speech, and their most proper sense, are always relative, having reference to some supposable voluntary opposition, or contrary will and endeavour, that is insufficient. But no such opposition, or contrary will and endeavour, is sup~ posable in the case of moral necessity ; which is a cer- tainty of ^ the inclination and Avill itself, v/hich does not admit of the supposition of a will, to oppose and resist itself ; for it is absurd, to suppose the same in- dividual wills to oppose itself, in its present act, or the present choice to be opposite to, and resisting present choice : as absurd as it is to talk of two contrary motions,, in the same moving body at the same time. j^^^^pjrfy-.-- ..jp^r*' . _^.,, 253 t And therefore the very case supposed, never admitji of any trial, whether an opposing or resisting will can overcome the necessity." This passage is introduced for the sole purpose of showing the extreme absurdity of an author's fixing what ide^ to a word he pleases. It must be evident to every one, that it is impossible to find out what is the meaning of the term necessity, because the au- thor has gi\'cn at least five or six different defini- tions of it, and severally different from each other : how then can this author make out a system from a term, which has no precise meaning ? And if this term should be blotted out of his system, nothing of a system would remain. I need not repeat the ideas we have had given to us, of vulgar, philosophic, and metaphysical necessity, of natural and moral necessi- ty, severally different verbally, from each other. In the passage quoted, we have the words, " a certainty of inclination, and will itself." Certainty is a verj* important word ; but as applied to inclination and will, it has but a \tv\ vague, and uncertain meaning. It is at least a kind of certainty that cannot be ascer- tained otherwise than by effects. Visible effects have certainly a cause : but to begin with the certainty of the cause, and to reason to the certainty of the ef- fect, is reasoning a priori, the most delusive of all methods of reasoning, in a long train of hypothet- ical argument. This author has in many cases taken the high a priori road. It is supposed, that " none will deny, but that choice in many cases arises from nature, as truly as 254 Gtlier events. The dependence and connexion, be- tween acts of volition, or choicCj and their causes, ac- cording to established laws, is not so sensible and obvious.'* There cannot be different causes for one and the same volition : the mind, sa)^s the author, chooses by the will. What may be the established laws of the acts of volition, is a secret that God has reserved to himself : but nothing can be more sensible and obvi- ous to a man, than his own acts of volition. " We observe, that choice is, as it were, a new principle of motion and action, different from that es- tablished law and order of things which is most ob- vious, that is seen especially in corporeal and sensi- ble things." " It is spoken of, as if it were a principle of motion, entirely distinct from nature, and properly set in opposition to it." This passage is not intelligible, because we cannot ascertain, from what is said, whether the mind in the act of choosing is, as it were, a new principle of mo- tion : or whether, after the choice is made, there is such a principle. Be it which it may, what is said here, amounts to no more than this — the established laws of the operations of spirits, are not so visible as those of matter. But judging of both by effects, they are equally visible. It is true that there may be acts of volition, tliat may not be discovered by any overt, or external acts. But even these volitions are well known to the mind that is the subject of them. *' What has been said of natural and moral neces- sity, may serve to explain \^'hat is intended by natu- 255 ral and moral inability. We are said to be naturally unable to do a thing, when we cannot do it if we will, because what is commonly called nature, don't allow of it ; or because of some impeding defect, or ob- stacle, that is extrinsic to the will ; either in the fa- culty of understanding, constitution of body, or ex- ternal objects. Moral inability consists not in any of these things : but either in the want of inclination^ or the strength of contrary inclination ; or the want of sufficient motives in view, to induce and excite the acts of the will : or the strength of apparent motives to the contrary' ; or both these may be resolved into one : and it may be said in one word, that moral ina- bility consists in the opposition, or want of inclination. For when a person is unable to will or choose such a thing, through a defect of motives, it is the same thing as his being unable through the want of inclination^ or the prevalence of contrar}'^ inclination, in such cir- cumstances, and under the influence of such views." We ought constantly to keep in our minds, that the very end and design of this author is to proAC, tliat the will is not free. Now if all that he has said about necessity^ in any of the many and various sen- ses he has given us of the term, are totally irrelevant ;^ to the freedom of the will, or that power in us, be it what it may, that chooses ; then we observe, that if " what has been said of natural and moral necessity, may serve to explain what is intended by natural and moral inability, it must convince any one, that these terms have no relation to free will, or tlie fre be not the actual acquisition of the object chosen ; and I ap- pic'iend that few will carry their ideas so high as to say tiiat there is no difference between choosing^ and pcsrsessing an object ; then we might say it ^vas the 250 o'me qua non, not the active cause, of acquiring the object chohcn. If Paul planted and Apollos watered^ they no doubt did it of choice, but God reserved to himself the power of giving tlie increase, and of con- necting tlie end with the means ; so that no door is left open for any one to boast of his own powers to save himself upon Gospel terms. And placing the commencement of moral inabiUty precisely ^vhere this author has placed the commencement of natural inability, will unquestionably afford entirely different views from those which this author has given us of moral inabilit)-, and of responsibility'. It places the last on clear and more rational grounds, than it can possibl}' be placed, if we place the commencement of moral inability before actual choice : for by so doing, a foundation is laid for supposing every man has two wills, one opposing the other. The following inference, we think, is a just one : if one s}stem, no more than the other, makes man the active cause of his own salvation, then that which is clearest of diSiculties ought to be adojDted. We will now introduce a few passages from the au- thor respecting his ideas of moral inability, " A woman of great honour and chastity, may have a moral inability to prostitute herself to her slave." .5- *' A strong habit of virtue, and a great degree of holiness, may cause a moral inability to love ^vicked- ness in general ; may render a man unable to take complacence in wicked persons or things, or to choose wicked life, and prefer it to a virtuous life,'* 260 " On the other hand, a great degree of habitual wickedness, may lay a man under an inability to love and choose holiness ; and render him utterly unable to love an infinitely holy Being, or to choose and cleave to him as his chief good." " It must be observed concerning moral inability in each kind of it, that the word inability is used in a sense very diverse from its original import. The word signifies only a natural inability, in the proper use of it : and is applied to such cases only, where- in a present will, or inclination to the thing, with re> spect to which a person is said to be unable, is sup- posable. It cannot be truly said, according to the ordinary use of language, that a malicious man, let him be never so malicious, cannot hold his hand from striking, or that he is not able to show his neigh- bour kindness : or that a drunkard, let his appetite be never so strong, cannot keep the cup from his mouth. In the strictest propriety of speech, a man has a thing in his power, if he has it in his choice, or ^t his election. And a man cannot be truly said to be unable to do a thing, when he can do it if he will. It is improperly said, that a person cannot perform those external actions, which are dependent on acts of the will ; and which would easily be perforn\^d, if the act ol" the will were present : and if it be impro- perly said, that he cannot perform those external voluitaiy actions, which depend on the will, it is in some respect more improperly said, that he is unable to exert the acts of the will tliemselves : because it is more evidently false, witli respect to these, tliat he 261 cinnot if he will : for to say so, is downright'contra- diction : it is to say, he cannot will if he does will. And in this case, not only is it true, that it is easy for a man to do the thing if he will ; but the very willing is the doing. When once he has willed, the thing is performed, and nothing remains to be done. Therefore in these things to ascribe a non-perform- ance to a want of power or ability, is not just : be- cause the thing wanting, is not a being able, but a being willing. There are faculties of mind, and ca- pacity of nature, and every thing else sufficient, but a disposition : nothing is wanting but a will." SECTION V. >* Concernmg the notion of liberty a7td moral agency. '^'^ A FEW remarks on the section will suffice ; be- cause I do not perceive any material difference be- tween Locke's ideas of liberty in his chapter on power, and this author's in this section. He says, that he iieed say the less on this head, Mr. Locke having set the ^ame forth, with so great clearness in his Essay on Human Understanding. " The plain and obvious meaning of the words freedom and liberty in common speech, is power; opportunity, or advantage that any one has to do as he pleases. Or in other words, his being free from hindcrance, or impediment in the way of doing, or conducting in any respect as he wills. And the con- traiT to liberty, whatever name we call that by, is a person's being hindered or unable, to conduct as he will, or being necessitated to do otherwise." It would have destroyed the author's system, if he had here allowed that necessity is the contrary of li- berty, and yet whatever comes into existence,, de- void of thought, must exist necessarily, and no liber- ty whatever can be ascribed to it. This belongs to the power that produced it ; yet the author seems to have been constrained to use the word necessitated^ m describing the contrary of liberty. The author's definition of liberty is incorrect in all its parts ; for liberty is not power, nor opportunity, nor advantage. It is inseparably connected with power : for power without liberty is no power at all : the very term pow- er implies liberty — and its contrary, whatever it may be, no power. "If this which I have mentioned, be the meaning of the word liberty^ in the ordinary use of language, as I trust that none, that has ever learned to talk, will deny ; then it will follow, that in propriety of speech, neither liberty, nor its contrary, can properly be as- cribed to any being, or thing, but that which has such a faculty, power, or property, as is called will. For that which is possessed of no such thing as will, cannot have any power, or opportunity of doing ac- cording to its will, nor be necessitated to act contrary to its will, nor be restrained from acting agreeably to it. And therefore to talk of liberty, or the contrar}-, as belonging to the very will itself, is not to speak good sense, if we may judge of -sense and nonsense by the original proper signification of the words. 263 For tlie will itself is not an agent, that has a will : the power of choosing, itself, has not a power of choosing. That which has the power of \olition, or choice, h the man, or the soul, and not the power of volition it- self. And he that has the liberty of doing according to his will, is the agent or doer, who is possessed ol' the will, and not the will which he is possessed of." In the first place I observe here, that I am one of those unlearned prejudiced people, who deny that li- berty means power, opjiortunity, or advantage. And in the second place, if the author's sense of liberty be right, yet we may safely deny the conse- quence he draws Irom it ; which is, that in propriety of speech, neither liberty, nor its contrary, can pro- perly be ascribed to any being, or thing, but that which has such a faculty, power or property as is called will. Perhaps a more absurd consequence was never drawn from more absurd premises. For if liberty is not a power, and the will is not a power, as they surely are not, and the inference says, that li- berty cannot be ascribed to any tiling, but that which has a will, we agree that the contrary of liberty, can belong only to that which has no power. But the being or thing, that has will, is free ; the will how- ever is. not free : wliat then can the being be, and what can the will be ? There can be no freedom with- out it, and yet it is not free itself. That the will should be essential to liberty, and yet not be free it- self, cannot, in my humble opinion, be reconciled with reason. Locke makes thinking essential to a w'lU, for he says that there can be no will without it. And ^64 this author makes will essential to liberty, but has !K)t told us what the will is. The reason given to establish the consequence, is as strange as the consequence itself. " For that which is possessed of no such thing as will, cannot have any power, or opportunity of doing according to its will." We grant it is so — but till we know what the will is, it is nothing to the purpose. It is in fact no reason at all : for if the inference were cor- rect, it contains all that is contained in the reason gi- ven to support it. The inference says nothing is free that has not a will. The reason says, that which has no will, cannot act according to its will. Now what do the words " its will" mean, if it has no will ? They surely cannot corroborate the inference. To the reason, however, is annexed another inference : " therefore to talk of liberty, or the contrary, as be- longing to the very will itself, is not to speak good sense, if we judge of sense and nonsense by the ori- ginal and proper signification of words." The vul- gar sense of words, and the original and proper sense of words, this author intimates that he understood perfectly. I think, however, he should have given us such clear definitions of words, or not have used them, that his reader might have known what he meant by them. What the connexion may be, be- tvveen the last inference, and what precedes it, cannot be discovered : for the argument is, liberty or its con- trary, cannot be ascribed to any thing that has not a will ; for that which has not a will, cannot act accord- ing to its v/i\[ : therefore to talk of liberty as belong- 265 iwg to tlic will itself, is nonsense. We confess w-e do not perceive any force in this incoherent connexion of words together. But another reason follows, to corroborate the whole argument : " For the will it- self is not an agent that has a will." If the will be a distinct thing from the agent, and there can be no li- berty where there is no will, the consequence is inevit- able that the will is not only free, but that there can be no freedom without it : and the words, " will itself is not an agent that has a will," are superfluous, for tlie will cannot be without the agent, nor can the agent be without the will. What then is the agent, and what is the will ? The reason proceeds, *' the power of choosing, itself, has not a power of choos- ing." This is a palpable contradiction : for nobody can extort from these words, this meaning, the pow- er that chooses does not choose, but has another pow- er which chooses for it. The mind has the power of choosing ; it is itself, and not another self : to say then that the mind has, and has not the power ©r choosing, must be false in fact. Further, " that which has the power of volition, or choice, is the man, or the soul, and not the power of volition itself." Thus we find that the will has been considered as the active power of choosing ; but here it is said that it is not the will, but the man, that has the power of choos- ing ; and if the will ever be used to signify the pow- er of choosing, the meaning of it ought to be the mind choosing, or that mode of thinking which may be denominated choosing ; and then we should rid 2 M 266 ourselves of the manifest impropriety of saying that the will chooses, and that it does not choose ; and of the absurdity and nonsense of saying that the man is free, but the will is not free ; and that the man, the soul, has the power of choice, and not the power it- self of volition. Whether it be the man, the soul or the agent that chooses, in the act of choosing there is an exercise of some kind of power ; and if volition be the effect of that, it would unquestionably be ab- surd to say, that the effect had a power of choosing : and if this be the idea that is meant to be conveyed by these words, " and not the power of volition itself,'' we cannot perceive that they were introduced as be- ing pertinent to any thing that the author is endea- vouring to establish ; for I cannot think, that any one ever supposed that an effect was the cause of itself. The reason says further, " he that has the libert}" of doing according to his will, is the agent or doer, who is possessed of the will, and not the will which he is possessed of." Tl"ie purport of this sentence is, that after the will has made its choice, and directed something to be done, then the power that executes that direction is a free power ; and as to the execu- tion of the direction, after the will has made its choice, the will itself has nothing to do with it, there must be another supposed power at hand directed by the will, which executes : and from this it is most absurdly inferred that the will is not free ; but that power is which executes the direction of the will. This is a direct contradiction to wliat the author has said, viz. willing is doing, and nothing more remains to be 267 done. But if a man is li-ee to do, after volition has taken place, how can it follow from this, that he was not free in the previous act of the will ? Analogy it- self seems plainly to establish the fact, that if there be freedom in one act, there must be freedom in the other act. *' To be free, is the property of an agent, who is possessed of powers and faculties, as much as to be cunning, valiant, bountiful, or zealous; but these qual- ities are the properties of persons, and not the proper* ties of properties.*' These ideas are borrowed from Locke, and if they amount to any thing, they are totally irrelevant to the subject in hand. Power can no more exist without liberty, than body without figure ; but figure is not the property of body, nor liberty of power. It is said, that an agent possesses powers and faculties. What are these powers and faculties ? If they constitute the agent, then we are told that qualities are the properties of persons, and not of properties, and to ascribe one pro- perty to another, is absurd : and if so, it will follow that an agent is a distinct thing from his powers and faculties, though they be the very essence of the ^gent. We may therefore be sure, that if the agent be free, the powers that constitute the agent must be free. Is the will a power ? If so, it is free : if it be not a power, then it cannot be free ; fox where there 268 IS no power, there can be no liberty ; and where there is no liberty, there can be no power. *' But that which has no will, cannot be the subject of these things," that is» of constraint, and restraint. From this we may infer, that that which has a will may be constrained and restrained, and that these circumstances could not happen, if there were no li- berty. Now if it be a fact, that that which has no will cannot be constrained, nor restrained, and that that which has, can ; it follows inevitably, that the will must be a free power : for the multiplication of oughts into oughts, (if it be possible to multiply nothing into nothing,) will be but oughts : but ac- cording to the author the will is not a mere cypher ; it is the very sine qua non of liberty. One thing more I would observe concerning what is vulgarly called liberty: namely, that power and opportunity for one to do, and conduct as he will, or according to his choice, is all that is meant by it ; without taking into the meaning of the word any thing of the cause, or original of that choice, or consider- ing at all how the person came to have such a voli- tion, whether it was caused by some external motive, or internal habitual bias : whether it was determined by some internal antecedent volition, or whether it liappened without a cause : whether it was necessari- ly connected with something foregoing, or not con- nected : let the person come by his choice how he will ; yet if he is able, and there is nothing in the 269 Way to hinder his pursuing and executing his vvili, t!ie man is fully and perfectly free, acccrding to the primary and common notion of freedom.'' I have never met with any author but this, who continually appeals to the vulgar sense of words, to establish the correctness of his own ideas. And how this author became to be so perfectly acquainted with the ideas of the unlearned, he has not told us ; nor has he told us why we should appeal to them as a standard of correctness. If, however, tlie unlearn- ed, whom, it is presumed, the author means when he uses the term vulgar, universally decide that man is a free agent, both antecedently and consequently, to willing or choosing ; or without knowing precise- ly when liberty commences, decide, that man is a free agent both as to willing and doing ; the -vulgar sense of liberty is against this author. " But the word liberty, as used by Arminians, Pelagians, and others, who oppose the Calvinists, has an entirely different signification. These several :hings belong to their notion of liberty. 1st. " That it consists in a self-determining power in the will, or a certain sovereignty the will has over itself, and its own acts, whereby it determines its own \ olitions, so as not to be dependent in its determina- tions on any cause without itself, nor determined by any thing prior to its own acts." 2d. " Indifference belongs to liberty in their notion of it : or that the mind previous to the act of volition be in equilibrio. - 3d. " Contingence is another thing that belongs, 270 and is essential to it, not in the common acceptation of the word, as that has already been explained, but us opposed to all necessity, or any fixed and certain connexion with some previous ground, or reason of its existence. They suppose the essence of liberty so much to consist in these things, that unless the will of man be free in this sense, he has no real freedom, how much soever he may be at liberty to act accord- ing to his own will." The author makes no comments here. If, however, he had proved that the three articles of the Armi- nians and Pelagians are incorrect ; it will not from thence follow that his system is correct. This au- thor certainly allows that there is a self-acting power in man that is free ; but he will not acknowledge that there is a self- willing power that is free. If the will be a power, and if liberty be as essential to pow-» er, as figure is to body, then the will must be free.i This author sometimes uses the term willj signifying thereby power ; and sometimes it is so used as that it cannot intend power ; so that in one sense it must be free, and in another sense it cannot be free. His definition of the term will, precludes the idea of its being a power ; viz. " the will Is that by which the mind chooses.*' If this were a correct definition, the question that would arise on it, would be, is the mind free in choosing ? or in other words, is the mind a power ? if not, we must still pursue the inquiry, till we come to something that is a power. The author's definition of a moral agent is not en- tirely free from objections : but I do not perceive 271 that it has any thing' to do with Uie freedom of, or want of freedom in the will. " A moral agent is a being that is capable of those actions tliat have a moral quality, and which can pro- perly be denominated good or evil, in a moral sense, virtuous or vicious, commendable or faulty." If this discription of a moral agent be correct, it Avill seem to follow, that they may, to all eternity, be capable of good or bad actions, which militates against an invariable course of rectitude and the final perseverance of the saints. I can scarcely believe, that moral agency consists in a power to do good, and in a power to do evil. We may observe furdier, that according to other opinions of the author, man in his fallen state, is only capable of bad actions, and therefore not a moral agent ; and that the only be- ings that are capable of good and bad actions, are those who are regenerated, but not removed from trials and temptations : for this author explicitly de- nies that man, in his fallen state, has a capacity to be influenced by moral inducements or motives. How then can he be a moral agent? Angels and man, who fell from their first holy state, were not in- variably influenced by moral motives ; and when any good reason can be given why they were not, then the introduction of sin into the universe will no longer be a mystery to us. It is in the highest de- gree probable, that fallen angels, have intelligence far superior to what fallen man has. Yet God has not, so far as we know, or have any reason to believe, exhibited to their moral facultv anv moral induce- 272 ments, or motives, that can have any tendency to in- fluence them to conduct agreeably to a moral facul- ty. It must therefore be confessed, that if fallen an- gels have a moral faculty, it is impossible that they should act conformably to it. The last paragraph in this 5th section, appears to me to represent God as acting from inducements and motives in the same way that created and de- rived intelligent beings act ; and if so, it is a very im- proper way of speaking. / *' The essential qualities of a moral agent, arc in God in the greatest possible perfection : such as un- derstanding to perceive the difference betwen moral good and evil ; a capacity of discerning that moral worthiness and demerit, by which some things are praise- worthy, others deserving of blame and pu- nishment ; and also a capacity of choice, and choice guided by understanding, and.a power of acting ac- cording to his choice and pleasure, and being ca- pable of doing those things which are in the highest sense praise- worthy." The same absurdity we find here, which pervades -all this author has said about the will, which is, that after the will, whatever it may be, has done its duty some other power takes up the unfinished business of the will, and finishes it. The knowledge of the Deity, so far as we can have any conceptions of it, is intuitive, and excludes the idea of choice : at least in this sense, God can never compare two objects to- gether for the purpose of deciding which of them is . preferable to the other. I therefore suggest this idea, that intuitive knowledge, and will in the divine mind, are but a single mode of thinking. With respect to ourselves, we unquestionably discover three modes of thinking. First, wc perceive thousands of sensi- ble objects, and know that we perceive them, yet they are not objects of choice. Second, moral in- ducements are exhibited to the mind, on which it deliberates before the objects thus exhibited are cho- sen. Thiidly, the mind perceives and knows when it has made choice of an object ; the consequence of which is, a steady mode of thinking to acquire the object or objects chosen. But it is utterly impossible that these tliree modes of thinking can have any place in the divine mind, or rather in the source and fountain ^f all intelligence. PART II. SECTION I, " Showing the manifest inconsistence of the Armini^ an notion of the liberty of the willy consisting in the will's self detenu ining power » * ' THE author observes that he has taken notice of those things, which may be necessary to be observed, concerning the meaning of the principal terms and phrases made use of in controversies concerning hu- man liberty, and has particularly observed what liberty is, according to the common language, an^ 2 N 274 general apprehension of mankind ; and what it is, as understood by Arminians ; and that he now proceeds to consider the Arminian notion oi the Jreedom of the will, a^id the supposed necessity of it, in order to mo- ral agency, or in order to any one^s being capable of virtue and vice'; or whether that which has been de- scribed, as the thing meant by liberty in common speech, be not sufficient, and the only liberty which makes, or can make, any one a moral agent. " First of all, I shall consider the notion of a self- determining power in the will ; wherein, according to the Arminians, does most essentially consist the will's freedom : and shall particularly inquire, whe- ther it be not plainly absurd, and a manifest inconsis- tency, to suppose that the will itself determines all the free acts of the will." " Here I shall not insist on the great impropriety of such phrases, and ways of speaking, as the wiWs determining itself; because actions are to be ascrib- ed to agents, and not properly to the powers of agents ; which improper way of speaking, leads to many mistakes and much confusion, as Mr. Locke observes.'* These ideas are borrowed from Locke, on which I have already made such strictures as show their futility: viz. that if an agent be made up of any thing, it must be power, and the very essence of that power must be thinking ; and therefore, to say that actions are to be ascribed to agents, and not to the power of agents, is incomprehensible and irrational. The author has not coudescended to tell us, what is the 275 essential distinotion between the agent, and the pow- er of the agent : and until we are intelligibly in- formed wherein this grand secret lies, we shall not hesitate to say, that there is in fact no such secret thing. " But I shall suppose, that the Arminians, when they speak of the wilVs determining itself^ do by the 7tv7/, mean the soul willing. I shall take it for granted, that when they speak of the will, as die de- terminer, they mean the soul, in the exercise of a power of willing, or acting voluntarily. I shall sup- pose this to be their meaning, because nothing else can be meant, without the grossest and plainest ab- surdity." I have never read any professed systematic Ar- minian author ; but I presume this author had read all noted Arminian authors from Arminius down to his own time. Whether Locke were an Arminian, I know not : he did not think Calvin's and Turre- tine's works contained a rational system of moral agency. Now, Locke supposed the same diing that this author supposed ; and the same thing that this author says the Arminians must suppose, that is, by the will^ they mean the soul willing. But Locke and this author, taking it for granted, that by the will is meant the soul willing^ infer that the will is not free. The Arminians, if the author is correct, from the same premises make a different inference, viz. the will is free. It is evident that Locke and tiiis author, did not consider the will to be a power ; that is, the term wi//, was not a sign for power in the will^ ^6 but for power in the soul ; consequently the infer ence should be, the soul is not free in willing ; and hot, the will is not free : because the will means the soul willing. " In all cases, when we speak of the powers or principles of acting, or doing such things, we mean that the agents which have those powers of acting, do them in the exercise of those powers : so when we say, valour fights courageously, we mean the man who is under the influence of valour, fights cou- rageously." Here we have again represented to us an impos- sible ca;se, viz. an agent, as something distinct from the powers the agent possesses. To say that valour fights courageously, is personifying valour, and is no illustration of the author's assertion. The man that has power and no fear, may fight courageously. In 'grave, didactic writings, figurative language should be avoided as much as possible. If we keep to the analogy, the agent and valour, are both personifica- tions. When we personify love, and say that love seeks the object loved, we may be understood, and every one may be sensible, that we do not mean that love is a person. " So when we say, the understanding discerns, we mean the soul in the exercise of that faculty." Now, I pray to know what can be meant by these words, " the soul in the exercise of the faculty of under- standing, discerns." For if the understanding be a faculty or power, and the soul be another power, this is making one power the property of anothej' 277 power, ^\ hich the author censures for its manifest ab- surdity. But the sentence conveys this idea. The temi understanding' does not signify a distinct pow- er in the soul ; but the soul in the exercise of pow- er : and wliat precise ideas may be annexed to these words, I am not able to perceive. The soul, as un- intelligible as the terms will and understanding y is made tlie grand substratum, the universal reservoir of all active po\\er ; but yet it is not power that is ac- tive, but the soul ; and what the soul may be without power, we are not informed. " So when it is said, the will decides or determines, the meaning must be, that the person in the exercise of a power of willing and choosing, or the soul acting voluntarily determines." Here it is acknowledged that something decides- ^nd determines, and what is the great, difference^ whether we call that something, will, mind, soul, agent, or person ? The author says, that it is not the will that decides and determines : and yet he says, that the will means the mind, the soul, the agent, or the person, in the exercise of the power of willing and choosing. Now, if all these terms be synony- mous, and the will stands as a sign for all and any of them, how can this author say, that it is not the will that decides and determines? The term xvill is unquestionably a word that is a sign for some idea in the mind ; and the author says, that it must be a sign for the same idea in the minds of Arminians, as it is in his own mind. And wherever there are the 278 same clear and distinct ideas, difFerent consequences are never drawn from them. We have now arrived at the author's grand infer- ence made from what he has said, which embraces a great variety of inferences ; and before we enter up- on it, we take the liberty of suggesting three di- stinctly difFerent ideas, that seem to have been given to the term will. First, it is so defined as to mean the mind, a real existence in action. This, says the author is, the true meaning of the term will : and this he says must be the meaning of it in the minds of Arminians. Second, some may suppose that it is really an ex- isting power that chooses, and with sovereign au- thority, directs the various actions of the mind, and motions of the body. Third, it seems sometimes to be taken for a pow- er to act, affeer the actual existence of choice. Thus this author says, he is free, who can do as he wills, or we cannot conceive of a person's being more free, than to be able to do as he wills. In an argument the same ideas ought constantly to accompany the same term ; otherwise it will amount to nothing. " Therefore, if the will determines all its own free acts, the soul determines all the free acts of the will, in the exercise of a power of willing or choosing ; or which is the same thing, it determines them of choice, it determines its own acts by choosing its own acts. If the will determines the will, then choice orders and determines choice." 279 The absurdity of this hypothetical syllop;ism, wc doubt not will be manifest after a little reflection : and if the argument in the beginning be incorrect, tlie many subsequent arguments that are founded upon it, must be incorrect also. We have only to ask, what is the meaning of the term will in the hypothesis, " if the ivill determines all its o\ni free acts ?" If the term rvill, here, mean the soul in the act of choosing, then the inference ought to be, the soul, in the exercise of a power of %villing or choosing, determines all the free acts of the soul ; that is, the soul in action determines the soul before it is in action. The absurdity consists in this, the term will, in the hypothesis, is equivocal. If it mean the soul in the act of choosing, then we should have this unmeaning syllogism. If the soul in the act of choosing determines all its own free acts, then the soul, in the exercise of a power of willing or choosing, determines all the free acts of the soul in the exercise of a power of willing or choosing; that is, determines its own acts by choosing its own acts ; that is, after the mind begins to choose, it chooses to begin to choose some other thing. Some- times by free acts, this author means such acts or actions as take place subsequent to choice, and there- fore he must suppose, that another power steps in and executes what remains to be done after the choice is made ; and in this sense the freedom of the will does not come into view at all. " If the will determines the will, then choice orders and determines choice." This absurd consequence 280 will not follow, unless it be said without reason, that will and choice ar^ synonymous terms ; unless the soul and an action of the soul are precisely one and the same thing. The term choice, undoubtedly must stand for a particular act of the mind. The purport of the syllogism is, if the mind by the will choosing, determines the mind by the will choosing ; then an act of the mind choosing, determines an act of the mind choosing. The inference here directly contra- dicts the hypothesis, for that supposes one thing, and the inference supposes another. ^* And therefore, if the will determines all its own free acts, then every free act of choice is determined by a preceding act of choice choosing that act. And if that preceding act of the will or choice, be also a free act, then by these principles, in the act too, the will is self-determined ; that is, this in like manner is an act that the soul voluntarily chooses ; or which is the same thing, it is an act determined still by a pre- ceding act of the will choosing that. And the like may be said again of the last mentioned act, which brings us directly to a contradiction ; for it supposes an act of the will preceding the first act in the whole train, directing and determining the rest ; or a free act of the will, before the first free act of the will. Or else we must come eX last to an act of the will, determining the consequent acts wherein the will is not self-determined ; and so is not a free act in this notion of freedom : but if the first act in the train, determining and fixing the rest, be not free, none of :^81 them all can be free, as is manifest at first view ; bul shall be demonstrated presentl3\" When it is said that the Mill has a self-determining' power, the term willy is made a sign of a real existing power in the soul : and all that can be meant by self- determining power y is that the power can of itself act Avitliout the assistance of any other power : a power that cannot act, is no power. If the will be a power, or if it be a sign for power in the soul, nothing hith- erto said by the author militates in the least against its freedom. The design of the author is to prove that the will is riot free, and to convict his opponents of absurdity : and his first assumption takes for grant- ed a thing which he has not proved, and which can^ not be proved : viz. that the will, or soul in choosing, does not act of itself, but some other power sets it in motion. And to give a semblance of probability to the argument, acts of the mind are personified, and made to stand for real beings or powers in the soul. Thus, if the soul in choosing performs an action, that action becomes a power, and performs another action. The author has given three distinctly different ideas of the term will. First — The will is that by which the mind chooses. This makes the will to be some- thing, but what, nobody can tell. Secondly — The will always is as the greatest ap^ parent good is. This places the will after an act of vo- lition : for there is no difference between the percep- tion of, and the choosing the greatest apparent good. The third sense is, the soul willing or choosing. 2 282 And if the ■ti)ill be the sign for this, it is u siga for a real existing power in action, that implies perception and thinking. It would sound strangely, to say, if that by which the eye sees, determines that by which the eye sees^ then sight orders and determines sight ; yet it is as good logic as what follows : if that by which the mind chooses determines that by which the mind choosesy then choice orders and determines choice. " If the will, which we find governs the members of the body, and determines and commands their mo- tions and actions, does also govern itself^ and deter- mine its own motions and actions, it doubtless deter- mines them the same way, even by antecedent voli- tions." Considering the various definitions, that the au- thor has given of the term will^ some of which make it a mere cypher in moral agency, we could not have thought that he would have asserted that the will governs any thing. When this author, or any other in his stead, has told us v/hat we arc to understand by the will's governing tlic members of the body, and determining and commanding their motions and ac- tions, we shall know what to say to it. In one place he says, that choosing is doing, and that nothing; more remains to be done. In other places, he clearly holds up the idea that somethingremains to be done af- ter volition. It is evident that the term will is used here for mind, soul, and v/hatevcr may, or can enter into our ideas as to a moral being. The argument therefore is tliis : '^ If the moral being, who governs ihc members of his oAvn body, and dc(.ermmes and commands the motions and actions thereof, does also govern himself, and determine his own motions and actions, he doubtless determines them the same way." We leave out the words '' eveti by antecedent voiitionsy^ because volitions are not the sole acts of a moral agent. We have here the motions and actions of the mind, and the motions and actions of the body, which last are visible : but what may be the motions and actions of the mind, I readily confess, I do not know. If volition be the very essence of moral agen- cy, what are its motions and actions ? Perception is unquestionably the very essence of volition : but what sort of motions and actions, or whether any, ac- company or precede perception, we know not ; it is an original principle. And to talk of actions and mo- tions^ as preceding perception, is an evidence that we talk of matters, about which we have no ideas. Ex- ternal actions are ihe best evidence that we can have of the will of a moral being — but volitions are not al- ways manifested by external actions. And the most criminal intentions may exist in the mind, such as render the person extremely culpable, and subject him to punishment, yet may never be exhibited by exter- nal actions. Locke says, and none dare to deny it, that where there is not the power of thinking, there can be no will. Thinking then must be the very essence of the will ; but of the power of thinking, the most distin- guished gift of heaven, that which distinguishes man from the fowl of heaven, and the beast of the field., 284. nothing Is said. By the term thinking, I meah three distinct modes of thinking; which, I think, everyone upon reflection must find in himself. As this author lias grounded himself upon Locke, when Locke ac- knowledges that he was doubtful as to the correct- ness of his ideas, it were to be wished that he had grounded himself on that author, where he describes the operations of his own mind, with great perspicuity. We will now put thinkings according to its modi- fications, for the term -will, in the passage quoted ; and then we shall have the following argument. " If thinking, which we find governs the members of the body, and determines and commands their motions and actions, does also govern itself, and determine its own motions and actions, it doubtless determines them the same way, even by antecedent thinking ;" that is, the moral being thinks, before he thinks, which is an impossible thing. " The will determines which way the hands and feet shall move, by an act of volitibft or choice ; and there is no other way of the will's determining, or commanding any thing at all." Here the will is unquestionably put for all that con- stitutes a moral being : and yet, according to the au- thor, there is no variety in the will; for he says, it always is as the greatest apparent good is. But as to thinking, there are modifications, if we may believe Locke. We will now adopt this argument, and sub- stitute thinking, where lie uses the term will and vo- lition. ^^ Whatsoever thinking communds, it commands by 285 an act of thinkiiij^ ; and if it has itself under its com- mand and determines its own actions, it doubtless does it in the same way that it determines other thinj^ which are under its command ; so that if tht freedom of thinking consists in this, that it has itscll and its own actions under its command and direc- tion, and its own thoughts are deteiTnined by itself, it will follow, that every free thought arises from an- other antecedent free thought, directing and command- ing that ; and if that directing thought be also free, in that also thinking is determined : that is to say, that directing thought is determined by another go- ing before that, and so on, till we come to the first thought in the whole series ; and if that first thought be free, and thinking be self-determined in it, then that is preceded and determined by another thought, which is a contradiction : because, by tlie supposi- tion, it can have none before it to direct or deter- mine it, it being the first in the train." " But if that fir^t thought is not determined by any preceding act of thinking, then that act is not determined by thinking, and so is not free in the Ar- minian notion of freedom, which consists in think- ing'-s self-determination. And if that first act of thinking which determines and fixes the subsequent acts be not free, none of the following acts which arc determined by it are free. " If we suppose that there are five acts in the train, the fifth and last determined by the fourth, nnd the fourth by the third, the third by the second, and the second by tlie first : if the first be not deter- 286 iiiined by thinking, and so not free, then none of them are truly determined by thinking ; that is, that each of them are as they are, and not otherwise, is not first owing to thinking, but to the determination of the first in the series, which is not dependent on thinking, and is that which thinking has no hand in the determination of; and this being that which de- cides what the rest shall be, and determines their existence, therefore the first determination of their existence is not from thinking. The case is just the same, if, instead of a chain of five acts of think- ing, we should suppose a succession of ten, or a Imndred, or ten thousand. If the first act be not free, being determined by something out of thinking, and this determines the next to be agreeable to itself, and that the next, and so on, they are none of them free, but all of them originally depend on, and are de^ termined by 'some cause out of thinking : and so ail freedom in the case is excluded, and no act of tliinkiiig can be free according to this notion of free- dom. If we should suppose a chain of ten thousand links, so connected that if the first link moves it will move the next, and that the next, and so the whole chain must be determined to motion, and in the di- rection of its motion, by the motion of the first link ; and that is moved by something else : in this case, though all the links but one are moved by other parts of the same chain, yet it appears that the mo- tion of no one, nor the direction of its motion, is from any self-moving or self- determining power in the chain, any more than if every link \^ ere immediate!}' 287 moved by something that did not belong to tlie chaJu. If thinking be not free in the first act, which causes the next, then neither is it free in the next, which is caused by that first act. For though indeed thinking caused it, yet it did not cause it freely : because the preceding act by which it was caused, was not free. And again, if thinking be not free in the second act, so neither can it be in the third, which is caused by that ; because in like manner, that third was deter- mined by an act of thinking that was not free : so we may go on to the next act, and from that to the next : and how long soever the succession of acts is, it is all one. If the first, on which the whole chain depends, and which determines all the rest, be not a free act, thinking is not free in causing or determin- ing any of these acts ; because the act by which it determine? them all, is not a free act : and therefore, thinking is no more free in determining them, than if it did not cause tliem at all. Thus this Arminian notion of liberty, of thinking consisting in thinking's self-determination, is repugnant to itself, and shuts itself wholly out of the world." This is the author's famous demonstration of the total want of freedom in the will. As I observed be- fore, thinking and thought, are substituted for 7vill and volition. If the argument be not a tissue of absurd assump- tion, I confess I do not understand it. I cannot think that spirit and matter have any similarity, nor that a chain of five, or five millions of links, has any tking to do with this question. Is an intelligent being 288 a free agent ? or, is thinking essential to free ag-en- cy? Notwithstanding what I have above objected against president Edwards, I freely acknowledge, that his reasoning in my mind, in his 4th part and 9th section, is plain and intelligible. A specimen we shall only give, as we find it under the second head. " They who object that this doctrine makes God the author of sin, ought distinctly to explain what they mean by that phrase, the author of sin, I know the phrase, as it is commonly used, signifies some- thing very ill. If, by the author of sin, be meant the sinner, the agent, or actor of sin, or doer of a wicked thing ; so it would be a reproach and blasphemy to suppose God to be the author of sin. In this sense, I utterly deny God to be the author of sin ; rejecting such an imputation ontlic Most High, as what is infi- nitely to be abhorred ; and deny such thing to be the consequence of what I have laid down. But if, by the author of sin, is meant the permitter, or not a hinderer of sin ; and at the same time, a disposer of the state of events, in such manner, for wise, ho* ly and most excellent ends and purposes, that sin, if it be permitted or not hindered, will most -cer- tainly and infallibly follow : I say, if this be all that is meant by being the author of sin, (though I dis- like and reject the phrase, as that which by use and custom is apt to carry another sense,) it is no re- proach, for the Most High to be thus the autlior of sin. This is not to be the actor of sin, but on the opntnirv. the actor of holmess. What God doth 289 herein is holy, and a glorious exercive of the infinite excellency of his nature : and I do not deny that God's being thus the author of sin, follows from what I ha\e laid down ; and I assert, tliat it equally follows from the doctrine which is maintained by most of the Arminian divines.''^ All this I cheerfully assent to : and think that the autlior h;is ver}' happily conveyed his ideas in intel- ligible language, because he, with sufficient preci- sion, makes a distinction between the foreknowledge of the Deity and his decree ; and allowing that such distinction may be made, and that Arminians con- tend earnestly for it : still the secret councils of God are a great and inexplicable mystery. For events not depending on the foreknowledge of the Deity, but certainly foreknown from all eternity, must be as sure and certain, as if they depended on a positive decree. Tlie idea that the greatest^ or a great por- tion of mankind, will suffer the eternal torments of the fire of hell, makes the distinction between the foreknowledge and the decree of the Deity, of very little consequence : indeed of no consequence at all. Man surely does not exist by the foreknowledge of the Deity ; and if he exist in an actual state of tor- ments to all eternity, he will so exist, otherwise than by the foreknowledge of the Deity ; tliat.is, by a positive decree. In Part II. Section 2, the author considers several supposed ways of evading his reasoning. *' If it should be said, when the Arminians apeak of the will's determining its own acts, they do not mean that the 2 p 290 will detcniiincs its acts, by any preceeding act, or that one act of the will determines another ; but only that the faculty or power of will, or the soul in the use of that power, determines its own volitions : and that it does it without any act going before the act determined. Such an evasion would be full of the most gross absurdity. I confess it is an evasion of my own inventing ; and I do not know but I should wrong the Arminians, in supposing that any of them irould make use of it. But it being as good a one as I can invent, I would observe upon it a few things. First, if the faculty or power of the will, determine an act of volition, or the soul in the use or exercise of that power, determines it, that is the same thing as for the soul to determine volition by an act of the will. For an exercise of the power of the will, and an act of that power, are the same thing. Therefore^ to say that the power of Tt'z//, or the soul mthe exercise o{t\\2it pow- er, determines volition, without an act preceding the volition determined, is a contradiction." We will advert to none of the other reasons given to invalidate a supposed absurd hypothesis. We observe here that we do not perceive any connexion between the hypothesis and the consequence : for the same thing is twice asserted, though not precise- ly in the same words. Upon the supposition that vo- lition is an act of the will, it is incorrect to say that volition acts; and the Avords " determines an act ofvo- iitioriy'' seem to have this meaning : in the conse- quence we find the words " determines volition*^ in- "Stnd of " ^Jet^rr^'Tip^ av nr^ of volition. ''^ 291 If it were granted, tliat the sole office of the will is to choose^ it \vould be absurd to say that choice is not the sole act of the will : and that there must be an act of tlie will previous to an act of volition, which determines volition : that is, to arrive at an act of volition, the will performs a previous act that is not volition. The hypothesis fabricated for the Arminian^ asserts that there is no previous act of the will. The author assumes, he does not prove, that there must be a previous act. And tliis assumption of the author is as absurd as the hypothesis he has framed for the Arminian^ and much more palpably so ; for if the will be a power, as the author ever}'- where supposes, and its sole office be to choose, it is a contradiction to say that it performs any other act than that of choosing : and this kind of contradiction is triumphantly made use of from the beginning to the end of the author's inquiry. The author's fa- bricated Arminian hypothesis is, ** the power of ivill determines its own volitions without any act going be- fore the act determined.*' This he says is absurd : and if so, he ought to have demonstrated the follow- ing proposition, which he has not done — " The power of will determines volition by a?i act going before the act determined.*'' The author has said, that " the will is, as the great- est apparent good is.'^ In other words, according as the mind perceives goodness in the object it con- templates, so is the will. It is apparent, that accord- ing to the author's manner of reasoning, he consi- ders objects in the view of the mind, as real powers 29^ ^r beings ; otherwise he could nol find out s6 manj acts, and determination of acts. He says, the ques- tion is " what influences, directs, or determines the mind or will, to come to such a conclusion or choice as it does ? Or what is the cause, ground, or reason why it concludes thus, and not otherwise ? Now, it must be answered according to the Arminian notion of freedom, that the will influences, orders and deter- mines itself thus to act ; and if it does, I say it must be by some antecedent act. To say it is caused, influenced, and determined by something, and yet not determined, by any thing antecedent either in or- der of time, or nature, is a contradiction. For that is what is meant by a thing's being prior in order of na- ture, that it issome way the cause or reason of the thing, with respect to which it is said to be prior." On this very prior thing, if I understand the author, he establishes his system of necessity. We observe here, that an object in the vicw of the mind is tlie only prior thing in the order of time or nature which influences the ^vill, the mind, the soul, the man, the agent, to come to such or such a choice. Therefore, it is not correct to say, that ac- cording to the Arminian notion of freedom, it must be answered, " that the will influences, orckrs, and determines itself thus to act ;" for the author does, and so must every one, acknowledge, that there are external objects that are not real existing powers and beings, that influence the mind to choose : they are the sine qua non of choice ; but such is not, or was not the case with the Deity before creation. — 293 " Jf the will does thus injiuence itself, sa5's the au- thor, I say it must be by some antecedent acty But we say, it does not thus infiuence itself, therefore it is not by some antecedent act. The author asserts very positively, that all God's ht)ly actions are in the highest possible degree neces- sary : and that therefore necessity is not inconsistent Avith morally good or bad qualities in the actions ol- men. But the term necessary, as applied to the ac- tions of the Deity, is entirely destitute of meaning. Previously to creation, (and we presume that it will be gi-anted, that there had been an eternity before creation,) God was the same / am that he now is. What were then his actions ? There were no objects external of God : he could not then have any voli- tions in the sense we use the term : he was possessed in an infinite degree of intuitive knowledge, and o! that mode of thinking which I call wUl. There could be no antecedent and consequent in the Deity : and we cannot possibly frame any idea of any connexion, of any things in him by way of antecedent and con- sequent. This being one of the author's strongest argu- ments to establish the fact, that actions may be ne cessarily good and deserve praise, or necessarily bad and deserve punishment, I do humbly conceive a! present that it does not e^tiiblish tlw fact at all. TO THE REV. AMZI ARMSTRONG, PASTOR OF THE CHURCH IN MENDHAST, STATE OF NEW-JF.nSEY. REV. AND DEAR SHJ, I RECEIVED your favour of the 1st Nov. 1810, \\ ith the manuscript enclosed. If the perusal of it afforded you any pleasure, I am fully compensated. The passage in Herodotus is the only one in profane history that I have found, that affords any data for computing the age of the post deluvian world. It ■would certainly confirm the Samaritan and Septua- gint copies of the Bible, instead of the Masorete which we adhere to, if we were sure that those copies did not begin their chronology with the birth of Noath, which was 600 years before the flood : the difference l^etween the two first and the last is precisely 600 years : the Masorete copies giving us exactly 600 years less than the others. I will make no apology for addressing tlie following thoughts to you, because I know your candour. I do not offer them to you as lieing entirely correct : I wish them to be consider- JUjlUAfU u^u^ 296 cd as propositionss, propounded, for the consideration of those who take pleasure in thinking for themselves, and are not satisfied with taking every thing for grant- ed. I observe then, If any one should ask me, what is that which pre- cisely distinguishes a Calvinist from an Arminian ? my ansv\^er would be, they impose upon the terms decrees of God, different meanings. President Ed- wards seems, however, to make it consist in the dif- ferent ideas affixed to the term will. He grants that some Cah inists advocate some Arminian doctrines : and no doubt some Arminians hold some Calvinistic doctrines. The Calvinists generally hold that there is no principle of activity in the human mind as to religious matters : and of course, that Christ's re- demptiop, was particular and not universal. The Ar- minians iiold that there is a principle of activity in the liiiriian mind : anxl of coursjC, that Christ died for all. The principium individuationis, as to activity and no activitj'j may be imperceptible to the human mind ; and it is so, if v»'e may believe Doct. Witlicrspoon, a r^iound Calvinist. He says, vol. 1. p. 132, " I make no scruple to acknowledge, that it is impossible for nie, nay, I find no difficulty in supposing, that it is impossible for any fi.nitc rnind, to point out the bounds between the ' dependence,^ and the ' activity of the creature.' But though we must ever remem- ber, that it is he alone, who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean, yet we know also, that all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God. We know that God will be just wlien jie speaketh, and ^^•..jhi^i 297 clear when he jiid,^eth ; that he rejects with disdain, the imputation of being the author of sin." President Edwards, in his Inquiry into the Freedom of the Will, says in the preface, " I would here give notice, that though I generally speak of that doctrine, concerning free will and moral agency, which I op. pose as an Arminian doctrine, yet I would not be understood, as asserting that every divine, or author, \vhom I have occasion to mention as maintaining that doctrine, was properly an Arminian, or one of that sort which is commonly called by that name. Som(t of them went far beyond the Arminians, and I would by no means charge Arminians in general, with ali the corrupt doctrine which these maintained. Thu^ for instance, it would be very injurious if I should rank Arminian divines in general, with such authors as Mr. Chubb. I doubt not but many of them have some of his doctrines in abhorrence : though he agrees for the most part with Arminians, in his no- tions of the freedom of the will. And on the other hand, though I suppose this notion to be a leading article in the Arminian scheme ; tliat which, if pursued in its consequences, will truly infer, or naturally lead to all the rest ; yet I do not charge all that have held this doctrine with being Arminians. For whatever may be the consequences of the doctrine really, yet some that hold this doctrine, may not own nor see the consequences. I desire it may be particularly noticed, that though I have occasion, in the following discourse, often to mention the author of the book, 2 o 298 €Btitled, c/^« Essay on the freedom of the witi^ in God and the creature^ as holding that notion of the free- dom of the will which I oppose ; yet I do not mean to call him an Anninian. However in that doctrine- he agrees with Arminians, and departs from the cur- rent, and general opinion of Calvinists." Thus Ed- wards places the essential distinction between a Cal- vinist and an Arminian, in their different ideas of the term " wzV/;" and of course, of moral agency. We often hear Calvinistic divines make use of the terms irresistible grace ; their precise meaning is not very evident. Grace is a familiar word ; and com- mon people seem to have a correct notion of the mean- ing of the word. But when connected with the term irresistible, the meaning becomes obscure and ambi- guous ; and they are capable of having different ideas affixed to them ; one of which is, that man is a mere machine in the hands of his creator : tliat God is the immediate moving cause of his thoughts, I do not say actions, because it appears to me that thoughts cannot be separated from actions. God created Adam, and breathed ijito him the breath of life ; that is, I apprehend, the same as the inspiration of the Almighty gave him understanding. This act of God arose from his communicative goodness : no external object moved him to perform the act. The act, in my sense of the term irresistible^ was irresisti- ble. But President Edwards tells us, that the term irresistible, is a relative term, and that it always sup- poses resistance. I therefore here, according to him., use the term improperly, because in creation," we can 299 jiot use the word irresistible with a rererence to any siipposable opposition, will, or endeavour." The atonement being a secret co\ eniint between God and the Son, was not irresistible grace, because the word cannot be used with a reference to any siipposable op- position, will, or endeavour. The atonement is some- thing that exists ; and the learned author says, it is perfect nonsense to apply the term irresistible, to any thing that has made sure of its existence. What then is that grace which does not exist, is resistible, and yet is irresistible ? I candidly confess I do not. know. If regeneration be an act of God, similar to that of making Adam a living soul, no external object mov- ing him to perform the act, it is a display of his com- municative goodness, but not of ^ace, in the common acceptation of the term ; and to apply the term irre- sistible here, according to the learned author, is non- sense. This author asserts, that no new faculty of understanding is wanting ; and that a will only is wanting. 1 agree that in an impenitent sinner, a wiU is wanting. But I cannot perceive that he has told us what the will is. In giving existence to intelli- gent beings, God was not moved thereunto by any- external motives or objects : but after their exist- ence, they WQie surely external objects to God him- self : and being external objects, he alone knows pre- cisely how much activitt/ he has communicated to them ; the principle of thinking, being the only prin- ciple of activity that man is conscious of in himself; and, exclusive of external objects presented to Jiiiia tc 300 diiiik about, all other thinking is mere imagination. God himself has presented to our minds real existing objects to think about ; and he knows precisely how ^ve can, and ought to think about those objects. And if he expressly tells us, that they are such as might, and ought to influence us,, we are inexcusable if they do not. Fair deductions from visible things to in- t'isible, is not imagination. The incarnation, and sufferings, as well as the re- iDurrection and ascension to glory of the man Jesus Christ, Immanuel God with us, were exhibitions of infinitely rich grace : but according to Edwards, this rich grace was not irresistible ; because man could not by any will, or endeavour of his own, oppose it. According to him, we do not see and hear irresisti- bly when the organs of seeing and hearing are in a bOund state, and we do actually see and hear. The miracles that Christ and his apostles wrought, the light that shone from heaven about Paul, was not irresistible, because there could be no will, oppo- sition, or endeavour against them. We are now led to inquire, what is that precise btate, in which a man must be, to be able to resist irresistible grace ; and what are the precise ideas, that are to be affixed to the terms ? I leave the question with others ; I am incapable, at present, of solving it. As a general term, grace has no existence out of the mind: it is not itself a being. Grace may be implied in an act of graciousness : for example, one man may voluntarily bestow upon another, some ve- ry valuable thing, not expecting any return in kind. 501 It is an act of graciousiicss, and implies grace, to pai- don a culprit capitally condemned. In Gospel grace, there are several distinct acts of graciousness. First, the metliod of salvation was planned and ratified iu iieaven, and is among the secret councils of God. It contains infinitely rich grace. There could be no human will, opposition, or endeavour against this act of grace. Grace, according to Edwards, must be some immediate acts bet\\'een God and the sinner, in which irresistible grace overcomes personal resist- ance. If this be any view of Gospel grace, it is ma- nifest that it is extremely narrow and limited. It places grace in something that has not made sure of its existence. The means of gospel grace are real existences, but not active existences. By irresistible grace, I apprehend that we are to imderstand, such gracious acts and exertions of pow- er, by God, as cannot be resisted. For example, it is said, that, in regeneration, the soul is so changed by an immediate act of God as that it becomes en- tirely a new creature : and that without such immcr diate exertion of power, it would be for ever incapa- ble of perceiving and relishing the Gospel system of salvation. The word of life, (till such immediate net, no external motive any more than in the first ori- ginal act of creation, moving God to exert the act of power, takes place,) will be a mere dead letter. From which it seems to follow, that the salvation of some, ind the damnation of others, are immediate acts of God, no external motive operating in any degree whatever to produce them. Obedience and disobe- dience are not brought into view at all. It appears to nie, that irresistible grace, distinct and different from the means of grace contained in the holy Scriptures, is not the doctrine of the confession of faith of the Presbyterian Church in the United States; imless it contain doctrines directly ojjposed to each other ; and if it do, we have a right to adopt that . which may appear most reasonable to us. There ure many phrases in this confession of faith that may have different ideas imposed on them ; and I am sure that presbyterian divines do not all construe them alike, or impose on them one and the same meaning. The confession of faith agreed to by the London assembly of divines, was unquestionably a matter of ■•accommodation among themselves. No human in- strument, where fifty or a hundred have been con- cerned in ratifying and adopting it, was ever ratified otherwise than on the principle of accommodation. • I will here introduce several of the articles of our confession. Chap. 3. sec. 1. " God, from all eternity, did by the most v«^ise and holy counsel of his own will, freely and unchangeably, ordain whatsoever comes to pass ; yet so as thereby, neither is God the author of sin, nor is violence offered to the will of the creatures, nor is the liberty or contingency of the second cause taken away, but rather established." It is said that every highly important, and deeply "interesting instrument should be so construed, as to make it harmonize in all its parts. The affirmation in the fir?t nart of this article, and the neeation in the 303 second part, seem to be irreconcilctble. The fir^t part denies any activity in the creature ; and that God acts from no consideration of any external objects, precisely in the same way as he did when there were none : and before creation there were none. Every event in this world, then, must be an event which God willed, and whatever he wills he takes pleasure in. The consequence is inevitable — God takes pleasure in sin. But the negative part of die article is directly opposed to this consequence : God is not the author of any thing, that is, he is not tlie active doer of any thing but what he takes pleasure in ; he is not the author of sin ; and he confirms it with an oath, that he takes no pleasure in it. What may be meant by the words, " j\'or is violence offered to the Tvillofthe creatiiresj'' I do not know; at present I cannot affix any rational ideas to them ; and this may fee owing to my not having maturely deliberated up- on them. What is it to do violence to the will ? It is here apparent, that the framers of the confession of faith, supposed that there was a Avill external of the will of tlie Deity. But God does no violence to this external will. If we knew precisely, what would be domg violence to this external will, perhaps we might perceive clearly what it would be, to do no violence to it. If there be no will in existence but the will of the Deity, no violence can be done to this will ; and this appears to me to be the meaning of the first part. The negative part, supposes another will ; and asserts that it is doing no violence to this will, if the being who possesses it, be, by the will of the Deity, unin- 304 liuenced by any external objects, doomed to sufter the eternal torments of hell. The secret will of God, is no rule for man to act by ; and if every event takes place according to his secret will, his revealed will is something ; but for what precise end it was revealed, is as yet a great mystery. If the justice and goodness of God admit of his giving existence to intelligent be- ings, and consigning them to eternal misery, without any regard to any external object or thing whatever, the inquiry is at an end at once. The negative part of the article says further, " nor is the liberty or contijigenci/ of the second cause taken aivay^ but rather established.^'' I ask here, what we are to understand by the words, " the contingency of she second cause being established?" For I am inca- pable of imposing upon them any ideas that satisfy mvself. The term council and counseL ai"e used in the confession of faith ; yet they arc distinctly differ- ent, as to meaning, in the English language. The words, " wise and most holy counsel j'''* seem to me to be expletive words. God does something not of himself; not by his will, but by the counsel of his will ; and God, by the most wise and holy counsel of his own will, freely and unchangeably ordains what- soever comes to pass. I do not perceive, that any rational sense can be im[)osed upon the term -willy as here used. It seems to stand for a distinct being id God. If it had been said, that God by his own free will, ordains whatsoever comes to pass, the meaning of the term tw7/, would be, perhaps, the same as Ed- wards' definition of it, that is, " the xvill is that by 305 ivhich the mind c/woses.*' , And according to Ed- wards, God, as well as the creature, acts by the will. If the term ordain^ embrace will, and an actual exer- cise of po\ver by God in every event, it will be man- ifest, that it is extremely difficult, if not impossible, to give any rational meaning to the negative part of the first article. Some Hopkinsians ascend higher than tlie Edwardists, by striking out of their creed the tcnhs ^^ permissive Tvill of the Deity. ^"^ Of course, God is the author of sin, by choice and by act. Sec. 2. " Although God knows whatsoever may or can cbitie to pass upon all supposed conditions ; yet hath he not decreed any thing because he foresaw it as future, or as that which would come to pass on; such conditions." I am very doubtful, whether I comprehend the pre- cise ideas meant to be conveyed by the words of this article. Speaking properly, God has no foreknow-: ledge : there is no past, or future with him. Ideas by succession do not take place in the divine mind. If God be not moved in any act of his, by any exter-i nal object, or thing, what can be meant by the \YOT^s '•'• supposed conditions ?"** These words surely, in connexion with the words that precede them, cari- not have any sensible meaning affixed to them, other- wise than by supposing, that there are intelligent be- ings that have wills, external of the Deity. The last clause of tlie section is negative, arid denies that Gqd 2 R 506 iii his deerees, is moved to decree from any external object or thing whatever. What is meant by these words, I do not know — '' or as that which would come to pass on such supposed conditions. ^^ Was the sentence of death passed upon Adam, not because God foreknew that he would transgress, but because, without any respect to the transgression, he had de- creed that he should be sentenced to death ? Further, he had decreed, not being moved thereunto by any external object, that Adam should transgress. The argument seems to be this : when God commenced to create, he could not be moved thereto by any exter- nal object or thing wliatever ; therefore when he had given being to intelligent creatures, no external ac- tions of theirs, were the occasion of any decree of God respecting 4liem. If this be the meaning of the article, my feeble reason does not enable me to give my assent to it ; not because it is above, but against my reason. 3d. " By the decree of God, for the manifestation of his own glory, some men, and angels, are predesti- nated unto everlasting life, and others fore-ordained to everlasting death,'* This article appears to me to be precisely against 2A\y *^ permissive will m the Deity. ^^ I acknowledge that the terms, " permissive wiUj^^aie unintelligible to me ; where no activity is required, no will is necessa- ry. God permitted Adam to sin ; he did not choose, or more properly, will, that Adam should sin ; so tliat J, ^'-^ 507 the terms penmssive wi//, must, ii" they iiave any meaning, intend no will. The gi'cat difficulty with respect to the above article, is to find out the meaning of the term decree. Before creation began, there was nothing external of God ; he existed alone. No exter- nal existence could operate on the mind of God, to induce him to begin to create external objects. God knew he could create ; and decreed or willed to cre- ate. If the term decree, m this third article, is to be taken strictly in the above sense, I cannot at present think that the article is cwrect. In the above sense, it docs not harmonize with what is said elsewhere in the confession of faith : for it makes God the au- thor of sin, salvation, and damnation, precisely intlie same way that he was the author of creation. In this sense, I cannot but reject the article with ablvar- rence. Sec. 4th. " These angels and men, thus predes- tinated, and fore-ordained, are particularly, and un- changeably designed ; and their number is so certain and definite, that it cannot be either increased or di- minished." It must be granted that God knows all his own works, and all the works of men and angels, from beginning to the end. His foreseeing and foreknow- ing an event, is, as to certainty, as sure as any thing that does or may exist, by an absolute, original de- cree of God — he was not the author of sin ; he ab- hors it ; yet he certainly knew that it would exist, be- fore he created Adam. The term **M«J," in this article, undoubtejdiy 308 refers us to the 3d article, for the meaning of this ar- ticle : we need not, therefore, add any thing more here as to the meaning of the 3d article. I do freely acknowledge, that I am not capable of harmonizing the perfect foreknowledge of the Deit}" as to all past and future events, with the freedom of the creature. Finding, however, that I do act, and tliat some of my actions are such as God in his holy word assures me he abhors ; I infer that I have the power of abusing God's goodness and grace : and therefore, that I am a free agent, and have the power of doing acts which are peculiarly my own, and not God's. Now this being to me a self-evident propo- sition, it is incapable of demonstration. If in theolo- gical controversies, self-evident propositions were carefully separated from such as are not, and simple, from complex ideas, perhaps we should not so often find authors attempting to demonstrate self-evident propositions, and to define a simple idea, which is in- capable of definition. Sec. 5th. " Those of mankind that are predesti- nated unto life, God, before the foundation of the world was laid, according to his eternal and immuta- ble purpose, and the secret and good pleasure of his will, hath chosen in Christ, unto everlasting glory^ out of his mere free grace and love, without any fore- sight of faith or good works, or perse^'erance in either of them, or any other thing in the creature, as condi- tions or causes moving him thereunto : and all to the praise of his glorious grace." See. 6th. " As God hath appointed the elect unto 309 glory, so liath lie, liy the eterrtal and most free pur- pose of his will, rore-orcUiined all the means tliere- unto. Wherefore they who are elected, being fallen in Adam, are redeemed by Christ, are effectual] called unto faith in Christ by his working in due season, iu-e justified, adopted, sanctified, and kept by his own power through faith unto salvation. Neither arc any other redeemed by Christ, effectually called, justified, adopted, sanctified, and saved, but the elect only." These two sections having principally a relation to the elect, are in fact, but one general statement re- specting them. I say principally ; but upon reflec- tion I am convinced that they have a sole relation to tlie elect, justified, sanctified, and adopted. The doctrine contained in the 5th sec. is unquestionably highly antiiiomian. If the doctrine be, as the section asserts, among the secret coimsels ofGody I dare not think that I have any ability to explain, unfold, or to make any important doctrinal inference from any thing that is a perfect secret to me. The words " ruithout any foresight offaith^^^ do not appear to me to harmonize with what Paul says, Rom. viii. 29. " For whom he did foreknow, he also did predesti- nate/' &c. The words in this article convey this idea to me — God's decrees precede his knowledge, which is absurd : or God, without any external motive, made some men originally to be saved, precisely in the same way, that, before any dependent intelligent be- ing existed, he gave existence to them, not being moved to do it by any external object or thing what- ever. C^od made use of no means, when he said, let i^tZlM^ 310 there be liglbt, and there jvas light What the pre- cise distinction is, between God's working without means, and working with means, and his not working at all, in the productiou of sinful acts, as he certainly does not; especially his working without, and with means, is not easy to be explained. Some seem to have supposed that God may do by means, what he could not do without means. By means he may be in a sense, the author of sin ; without them he could not be. By means, he may be the author of the sal- Yation of some of the sons of Adam, that have trans- gressed his holy law ; without means, he could not !>e ; his justice is and must be spotless : and the shedding of blood is the only means whereby mercy and truth could meet together ; and righteousness and peace could have kissed each other. The 6th section says, '* As God hath appointed the elect unto glory, so hath he fore- ordained all the means thereunto.'' To this proposition I do not at present perceive that any objection can be made : but m this article we find these words ; " neither are any other redeemed by Christ, effectually called, justifi- ed, adopted, sanctified, and saved, but only the elect." This clause is precise, as to particular, in opposition to universal redemption. From mature reflection upon Calvin's system of divinity^ which I consider as a rigid system, so far as it has been repre- sented to me by Calvinistic authors, I have no hesi- tation in saying, that holding to universal, and de- nying particular redemption, is, (if not decapitating,) ctrtting off the right arm of Calvinism, and leaving 311 nothing but the Arminmn, the left arm. The pbm meaning of the article is, none arc redeemed by- Christ, but only the elect. I acknowledge, tliat jione are effectually redeemed by Christ, but such as are actually saved. It is not, however, in conse- quence of any defect in the redemption, in the price paid, iuid the actual purchase made by Christ, that others are not saved ; because it is said of some, that they deny the Lord that bought tliem. Being slaves of sin, Christ paid an ample price for their freer dom, yet they refuse to be freemen, which they caur not be otherwise than by owning and receiving Christ as their Master. There was a sufficiency in Jesus Christ, to save those to whom he said, Ye will not come unto me, that yc might be saved. I readily grant, that the bible alone contains a full and complete exhibition of the fore-ordained means, and that we are in consequence of diat perfect exhi- bition, as Paul says, " To work out our own salva- tion with fear and trembling : for it is God that workf cth in us, both to will, and to do, of his own good pleasure." Though the means of grace, by a decree of God, by his own fiat, absolutely and unqualifiedly irresist- ible, exist, as we find them exhibited to us in the holy scriptures, yet the holy scriptures being existences, are not active existences. The question that has, and probably will continue to perplex some sober inqui- rers, is, as there must be activity in the use of the means, where does it commence ? In the creature, or in the holy spirit's mgving.the creature to be active in 31^ the use of the means ? If Doct. Witherspoon be cor- rect, this question cannot be resolved — and of course there must be liberty to think differently respecting it. If however, it be self-evident to every one, that he possesses activity, and it appears to me that it must be so ; then another question arises, to what extent has man activity ? We readily grant that it is very limited. Thinking implies activity : reading and hearing imply thinking. Whenever we read the system of salvation contained in the Evangelists, we ought to think that the holy spirit is speaking to our- selves immediately, and moving and exciting activity in us, by presenting to our minds objects infinitely worthy of God, and of our reception. In this view, the holy spirit first moves to activity. If there be aiiother way, a secondary way, in which the holy spirit moves the creature to activity, it is to me a se- cret way. " The wind bloweth where it listeth, and ye hear the sound thereof, but cannot tell whence it Cometh, nor whither it goeth, so is every one that is born of the spirit," Now if this being born of the spirit, be an act precisely similar to that of God's giving existence to Adam, his own goodness, and nothing else, moving him to it, and the holy scriptures are totally useless before the new birth, then it is not effected by means ; it is an immediate act of God, respecting which the creature has no activity. This, however, I cannot think is the meaning of the text, becau&e it would carry us to tlie extremity of the most rigid Calvinism ; and because several plain" 313 texts of scripture, are directly opposed to such a doc- trine. Sec. 7. " The rest of mankind, God was pleased, according to tlic unsearchable counsel of his own will, whereby he extcndcth or withholdeth mercy as he pleaseth for tlic glory of his sovereign power over his creatures, to pass by, and to ordain them to dis- honour and wrath for their sin, to the praise of his glorious grace." It must be acknowledged, that many of God's thoughts and purposes respecting fallen man, are in- scrutable and past finding out, as well by the best christians, as by those hardened in sin, who die in impenitence. But christians, aud I hope 'very ex- cellent christians, are led by reasoning a priori., to draw the most absurd inferences : nothing short of this, that God is the real actor and doer of all the acts of the human mind ; and of all that takes place in consequence of those acts of man, God is the au- thor. The learned world, has unanimously decided, that the method, or way of reasoning a priori^ is ex- tremely dangerous, and leads many in Malebranche's words, " to see all things in God^ It may lead to an explicit contradiction of what God expressly declares in his holy word. This article asserts, that it is to the praise of God's glorious grace to punish impenitent sinners, for whom Christ did not die. Now how this can be to the praise of (jod's glorious grace ? If it be true that it is so, I readily confess that it exceeds all the powers of my imagination ; and is not only 2 s 314 above my reason, but explicitly against it. The con- fession of faith expressly asserts that Christ died for the elect only. Here unquestionably is free and pure grace. Is there any grace in punishing those who never had the ofifer of grace ? Those that Christ did not lay down his precious life to save ? If there be any remote kind of grace in punishing sinners, for whom Christ did not die, I could pray to be furnish- ed with a definition of this specific kind of grace ; for it must be sui generis. If the scriptures expressly assert to be true, what the article affirms to be true, I am bound to believe the scriptures ; that is, God speaks in them immediately to me, and to every one that enjoys the great privilege of reading them. But, God be thanked, that I am not bound to believe what man says God says, is true : when man undertakes to tell me what God's secret and unsearchable coun- cils or counsels are, I am sure that he is travelling out of his record, and is in the high a priori road. Sec. 8th. " The doctrine of this high mystery of predestination, is to be handled with special prudence and care, that men attending the will of God revealed in his word, and yielding obedience thereunto, may, from the certainty of their effectual vocation, be as. sured of their eternal salvation. So shall this doctrine afford matter of praise, reverence, and admiration of God ; and of humility, diligence, and abundant con- solation to all that sincerely obey the gospel." If the doctrine of predestination be a mystery, a high mystery, I am morally certain, that God has not commissioned any mortal man, to explain and 315 unfold to mortal man, the high mystery. The mj's- teries of God, ciinnot be handled at all, either with or without special care and prudence — what data has God given us to handle them ? None whatever. If he had given us any, they would enable us to unfold the mystery' ; and then we should not see through a glass darkly. The rigid Calvinist says, there is no myster}' ; he understands all God's secret designs and purposes. Now tlie tenets of those that have been called Calvinists, are widely different. The doc- trine of particular and universal redemption, makes the distinction between immoderate and moderate Calvinists. The immoderate Calvinist reasons a priori: the moderate Calvinist, reasons a posteriori. This 8th Section plainly contains this idea, that the high mystery of predestination is not a revealed truth : how then do we arrive at the idea, that it is a truth ? *' The doctrine of this high mystery of predestination is to be handled with special prudence and care, that men attending the will oy God revealed in his word,*^ &c. The ideas meant to be conveyed by these words is not very evident. It is however manifest, that they are unhappily connected together. I do not know what idea to affix to the term " thatJ'* The purport of the words seems to be this: men with special prudence and care, may handle the doctrine of the high mystery of predestination, but they will do more wisely to attend to the will of God revealed in his word ; and if they do, they will not handle the doctrine of predestination at all. Chap. 6. Sec. 5. " God in his ordinary provi- 316 dence, maketh use of means, yet is free to work with- out, above, and against theniy at his pleasure.*' Here I make no remarks, because the terms " against theTJiy*^ are unintelHgible to me. If God appointeth the means, does he work against his appointment ? Chap. 5. Sec. 2. " Although, in relation to the foreknowledge and decree of God, the first cause, all things come to pass immutably and infallibly ; yet by the same providence, he ordereth them to fall out according to the nature of second causes, either ne- cessarily, freely, or contingently." Sec. 4. " The Almighty Power, unsearchable wisdom, and infinite goodness of God, so far manifest themselves in his providence, that it extendeth itself even to the first fall, and all other sins of angels and men ; and that not by a bare permission, but such as hath joined with it a most wise and po' erful bound- ing, and otherwise ordering and governing of them, in a manifold dispensation to his own holy ends; yet so, as the sinfulness thereof proceedeth only from the creature, and not from God ; who being most holy and righteous, neither is nor can be the author, or approver of sin." Chap. 6. " Our first parents being seduced by the subtlety and temptation of Satan, sinned in eat- ing the forbidden fruit. This their sin God was pleased, according to his wise and holy counsel, to permit, having purposed to order it to his own glory." Sec. 4. " From this original corruption, whereby we are utterly indisposed, disabled, and made oppo.- 317 site to all good, and wholly inclined to all evil, 6p proceed all actual transgressions." Chap. 9. " God hath endued the will of man with that natural liberty, that it is neither forced, nor by any absolute necessity of nature, determined to good or evil." Chap. 20. Sect 2. "God alone js Lord of the conscience, and hath left it free from the doctrines and commandments of men, which are in any thing contrary to his word, or beside it, in matters of faith or worship. So that to believe such doctrines, or to obey such commandments out of conscience, is to betray true liberty of conscience ; and the requir- ing an implicit faith, and an absolute and blind obe- dience, is to destroy liberty of conscience, and reason also." I think it is manifest, that our confession of faith does both expressly assert, and expressly deny, the permissive -will of the Deity. If this be not correct, I am open to conviction. This confession differs, in some respects, material- ly from the confession of faith, drawn up and adopt- ed by the Westminster Assembly of Divines. My authority for saying so, is Dr. Richard Price, to be found in the 173d page of a volume of his Sermons printed at Boston, 1794. He says, " concerning all who oppose such doctrines as these, and maintain opinions contrary to the known principles of Chris- tianity ;" '' they say, they may be lawfully called to account^ and proceeded against by the censures of the Churchy and the power of the civil magis- 318 TRATE, WHO HAS AUTHORITY, AND WHOSE DUTY IT IS TO PRESERVE UNITY IN THE CHURCH, TO KEEP THE TRUTH OF GOD PURE AND ENTIRE, AND TO SUPPRESS HERESY." "But at the same time it is added, that in doing this, the civil magistrate is to be only the execution- erofPresbyteries and Synods," WITH whom he is to CONSULT AND ADVISE AND TOWHOMITBELONG- ETH TO DECIDE CONTROVERSIES OF FAITH, AND TO'SET DOWN RULES FOR THE ORDERING THE PUB- LIC WORSHIP OF God, and government of his Church, and authoritatively to deter- mine THE SAME ; which DETERMINATIONS ARE TO BE RECEIVED WITH REVERENCE AND SUB- MISSION, as coming from a power which is the or- dinance of God. lb. Chap. 20. Sec. 4 ; Chap. 23. Sec. 3 ; and Chap. 31. Sec. 3. How adverse to every principle of religious liberty and charity !'* In die 20th chapter of our confession of faith, wc do not find these sentiments. The title of this chap- ter is, " of Christian liberty, and liberty of con- science." I confess I do not approve of the 4th sec. of this chapter. But it contains no sentiments similar to those which Dr. Price quotes from the con- fession of faith of the Westminster divines. Upon the whole, I do not think that the articles of confession of our faith can be made to harmonize, otherwise than by giving to the term " decree^'' two distinct and different meanings. For example, " God said let there be light, and there was light." Now, we suppose that light existed by a decree of 319 God ; and if it did exist by a decree of God, which I presume vv ill not be denied ; then, 1 do not hesitate to say that, in the same sense of a decree, God never said, let there be sin, and sin was : consequently, if it be correct to say that sin exists, by a decree of God, die term decree must have two meanings. The first iuid the fourth section of the 6th chapter, contain paradoxies tliat I connot resolve. The first section says, " this their sin, God W3S pleased, according to his wise and holy counsel, to permity having purposed to order it to his own glory." Sec. 4. " From tliis original corruption do prop ceed all actual transgressions.^'' Surely Adam trans- gressed, but not from original corruption. Was not Adam's transgression an actual transgression ? Gen. ii. 17- " But of the tree of knowledge of good and evil," thou shalt not eat of it : for in the day that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die.'* Now if this were a decree of God, it surely cannot be a decree in a sense similar to that of, " God said, let there be light, and there was light." The written laws of God are decrees. ** The system of faith which has been generally called Calvinism, includes in it the five following doctrines. " First. The doctrine of absolute predestination, and election. *' Second. The doctrine of original sin. " Thirdly. The doctrine of the total impotence of man, and irresistible grace, in opposition to free wUI. 32a " Fourthly. The doctrine of particular y in oppo- sition to universal^ redemption. '?f.*f; Fifthly. The doctrine of the perseverence of Saints, after being once called and converted. " These five doctrines have been called, by way of distinction and eminence, the five points. — ■ They are the points about which the sect called Ar- minians differ from Calviftists, and in litigating them, volumes without number have been written, much zeal employed, and an infinity of what is most im- portant in religion, (I mean charity, and a good tem- per,) has been lost." Price^s sermons, p. 158, 159. I do not quote Price as a correct divine in all things, but I do appeal to him as a man, who had a faculty of distinguishing, in an uncommon degree ; as a lover of truth, and as a most patient and laborious investigator of it, as it appeared to his own mind. The venerable and pious assembl)r of divines in the larger catechism, question 72, ask, " what is jus- tifying faith?" Answer — " justifying faith is a sav- ing grace, wrought in the heart of a sinner, by the spirit and word of God ; whereby he, being convinc- ed of his sin and misery, and of the disability in himself, and all other creatures to recover him out of his lost condition, not only assenteth to the truth of the promise of the Gospel, but rcceiveth and rest- eth upon Christ and his righteousness therein held forth, for pardon of sin, and for the accepting and i accounting, of his person righteous in the sight of God for salvation." I find no fault with the descrip- tion here given of justifying faith. It is, however, 321 a tnerc description, and not a definition of the terms justifyuig faith. The efficient causes of justifying faith arc represented as being two, that is, the spirit and the word of God ; but these Reverend divines say that God worketh with, or without means. — Now, if the word be an ordinary means of justifying faith, and God may justify without these ordina- ry means, the description is not perfectly correct. In my humble opinion it is incorrect in another point of view ; for surely there cannot be two efficient cau- ses of salvation ; the answer is, " by the spirit and word of GodJ*^ . Q. 73. " How doth faith justify a sinner in the sight of God?" A, " Faith justifies a sinner in the sight of God» not because of those other graces, which do always accompany it, or of good works that are the fruit of it: nor as if the grace of faith, or any act thereof, were imputed to him for his justification ; but only as it is an instrument by which he receiveth and appli- eth Christ and his righteousness." This answer of the Rev. and pious Divines, does not convey any distinct and clear idea to my mind. " Faith justifies only a^ it is an instrument.^* I readily confess, I have la- boured to find out what precise ideas are to be affix- ed to the words of this answer, but I have not yet found them. To say, that an instrument justifies, is saying something, but surely it is no definition of justifying faith. Hov/ historical, or saving faith are instruments, I fretly confess I do not know. There O T can be no historical or saving faith without thinking : is thinking an instrument ? If it be, is it the essence of the soul ? If it be the essence of the soul, what sort of an instrument is the essence of the soul ? I answer, I know not ; I confess my own ignorance, and I depend on God's mercy, to forgive the sins that I have committed in perfect ignorance. J be- lieve the soul is an essence, (how it is so, I know not,) and that the inspiration of the Almighty hath given it understanding. Which is the instrument^ the understanding, or the inspiration of the Almigh- ty ? What is an instrument, when used as a symbolr ical term ? These words in the answer are not intelli- gible to me, " but only as it is an instrument, by which he receiveth, and applieth^ Christ and his right- eousness." Saving, or justifying faith, I apprehend, implies hearing, seeing, feeling, tasting, and relishing the gospel system of salvation. The following is a short sketch of the rise of Armi- nianism in Holland. James Arminius, and Francis Gomarus, both pro- fessors of Theology in the University of Leyden, eij- tertai^ied and supported, respecting the decrees of God, the confession of faith and the catechism, opin ions so diametrically opposite, and charged each oth- er with errors so odious, that after the month of De- cember, 1608, they were cited to appear before the high council, which imposed silence upon both pro- fessors, ordering them to maintain concord between themselves, and to continue in peace, until this dis- pute should be decided and terminated, in a national $23 or provincial synod. The silence imposed was, how- ever, illy observed, and the two professors clashed more and more. The ministers, generally, followed the opinion of Gomariis, \vho supported the ideas, that " God by an eternal and absolute decree, had decreed, who should be saved and who should be damned : and that agreeably to this decree, some were drawn to faith and piety, whilst God left others buried in their misery and impiety." The magistracy, on the contrary, were pretty gen- erally for the more moderate opinion of Arminiiis, who said, that *' God from all eternity had made this distinction between sinners : that those who would repent of their faults, and would put their confidence in Jesus Christ, should receive pardon for their sins, and life eternal ; but that the impenitent and unbe- lievers should be punished : that God desired that all men should be converted, and persevere in tlie know- ledge of the truth, but that he did not constrain any body." In the midst of these disputes, Arminius died of a consumption. Before his death he declar- ed that he had taught nothing, but what, after the most severe examination, he had judged conforma- ble to the Holy Scripture ; and the most proper to /, reunite protestants. iOatJu^^ Conrad Vortius succeeded him in the professor- ship, who, it was thought, departed still further than Arminius had done i?iom the ordinary doctrine of the reformed. In a short time the divisions had every where become deeply rooted ; and soon the fatal effects of then> were seen. At Alkmaar, where 324 ^key had Suspended the minister Adolphus Venatoi- from his functions, for having refused to sign the catechism and confession of faith, there were raised troubles which were carried so far, that it became necessary to change the regency immediately. It was thought that the consequences would have been still more fatal at Leeu warden, in Friesland, where the discontented committed acts of violence. The first day of tlie year 1610, the populace assembled before the Ciry Hotel, broke the windows, and forced open the door of the chamber where the council was assem- bled ; expelled from it all the members ; and then, aided by bands of tradesmen, who had caused the Bourgeoise to be put under arms, formed a new re-, gency, according to their own fancy. At Utrecht things were carried so far by the active spirit of one Thier\' Kanter and his adherents, that Count Frederick Henry had orders to besiege the city, which did not open its gates, till the end of six days. Tranquillity seemed to be re-established : but Kanter and some others having entered into a con- spiracy against the regency, which was then entirely composed of persons attached to the opinions of Ar- minius, they secured their persons, tried them, and passed sentence of death against all of them. How- ever, they changed the sentence of death into perpe- tual banishment, and the loss of their estates. In the interim, the minibtd.s of tlie school of Ar- minius, who formed the smallest number in Holland, foreseeing that it would be difficult for them to main- tain tlieir groimd ay:a^iiist tfie power of their adversa- 325 rics, presented a memorial to the states of Holland, in which they vindicated tliemsclves, and repelled the reproachful charges that had been made against them, of wishing to introduce some change in reli- gion, and to excite the people to revolt. They there* in explained tlicir sentiments, which they reduced to Ave principal articles. They concluded, by praying the states of the province, whose sovereign jurisdic- tion in spirituals as well as temporals, they declared themselves to be satisfied with, to cause their reasons to be heard in a free, and legitimate synodical assem, bly : or if that could not be, to interpose their authori- ty, in order that the two parties should treat each other as brothers ; promising, that they themselves would do all they could to preserve peace. Upon this remonstrance, on account of which the Armini- ans have been called Remonstrants, die states of Hol- land resolved, by ordering the classes of the province, that, till a new order, they should not require any one » to confess any other things than those contained in the five articles ; enjoining upon them to use their best endeavours to preserve harmony and peace. This order of the sovereign was so little respected, that some classes declared that they would not sub- mit to it. In the spring of the year 1611, there was held at the Hague, in the presence of the states of Holland, a conference between six ministers on both sides. The dispute was confined to the five articles propos- ed by the Arminians. The states did not attribute the victory to cither of the parties, but contented 32G themselves with passing the usual order, to preserve peace with each other. Before the opening of the conference, the Gomarists of Holland, since called eontra-Remonstrants, had presented a remonstrance to the states against the opinions of the Arminians. They therein explained, in seven articles, their own sentiments upon grace and absolute predestination ; which they admitted purely and simply, in all the ri- gidity of Calvin's system. They proposed also, as a sure means to put an end to all disputes, the holding of a national synod, or to send the disputed points to foreign universities, to whose decision they promised to submit. The following are the five Arminian articles : — First. That God had, from all eternity, resolved to elect, and to call to eternal life, those who, by his grace, should believe in Jesus Christ, and who should persevere, even to the end, in faith and obedience ; and to reprobate and reject to eternal damnation, un- believers and the impenitent. ' • Second. That Christ died for all ; in such a man- ner, however, that there were none except believers, who should be entirely reconciled by his death. Third. That man had not sanctifying grace through himself, nor by his free will ; but that to obtain it, he had need of the grace of God in Jesus Christ. Fourth. That this grace was the beginning, tht progressing, and the finishing of the salvation erf* men ; — that it was to it that all good works must be attributed: — that, however, it did not operate irre- sistibly. 327 Fifth. That the grace of God gave to true bcHcv- ers strength sufficient to overcome evil ; but whether believers could lose this grace, was a point that they ought to examine more ncarlr, before daring to teach it with entire confidence. These are the five articles. Some time after, the Remonstrants declared their opinions less equivocally, as to die fifth article, by saying, that a true believer might, by his own fault, alienate himself entirely from God, and lose the grace. The question between Calvinists and Arminians, it appears to me, ought to be this — Is there any acti- vity in the creature^ supposed or implied in the Gospel system of salvation ? Calvinists and Arminians have placed the issue of the debate between them, upon this ground — correct notions of liberty^ tuilly and volition. I verily be- lieve, that neither of the parties have had correct opinions as to these three terms. In the natural \\orld, it seems to be generally agreed, that man possesses activity ; he can cultivate and prepare his ground, and put in the seed ; but he cannot make it grow. The natural man is always dependent on the goodness of God, notwithstanding he has a principle of activity within himself. It will, I presume, be acknowledged, by all sober thinking men, who have considered and weighed the extremities of doctrinal points, that there have been extreme Calvinists, as well as extreme Arminians. There have been Calvinists, and there have been Ar- minians, between whose sentiments it has been ex- 328 tremely difficult, if not impossible, to draw a line. In some things the Calvinist has been an Arminian ; and in some things the Arminian has been a Calvin- ist. As there are grades in Calvinism ; so there are in Arminianism. The Methodists and society of Friends arc not Calvinists : they are to be found in some of the grades of Arminianism. Calvinism b absolute, unconditional, simple predestination to eternal life, or eternal misery, by an absolute, uncon- ditional, simple decree of God, originating from no external motives whatever. In this sense, neither Quakers nor Methodists are Calvinists. It is said, that there has been found more evange- lical piety in the resorts of Calvinism, than in those of Arminianism : how far this may be true, I am not competent to decide. There is, however, one thing that is extremely dishonourable to Calvinism itself: in its resort have been found blood-thirsty perse- cutors. I do not refer to Calvin and Servetus, but to the history of Holland, and of Germany, where high-minded predestinarians, unquestionably, if not instigated by the devil, had not the true spirit of the Gospel in them. In Holland how much Arminian blood, merely on account of Arminianism, has been. shed ! I turn my eyes from the scene with horror ! We may say of the perpretators of tliese horrid deeds, as Paul said of the Athenians, " Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all" (these) " things ye are too superstitious." The Arminians never de- nied tliat the Scriptures were the word of God. Such dr^nial is, unquestionably, that sin against the Holy 329 Ghost, which will not be forgiven in this, nor the world to come. If they are heretical, they do not *' bring in damnable heresies, denying the Lord that bought them." 2 Pet. ii. 1. " Who is a liar, but he that denieth that Jesus is the Christ? He is anti- christ that denieth the Father and the Son." Jude v. 4. For there arc certain men crept in unawares, who -were of old ordained to this condemnation ; ungodly men, turning the grace of God into lasciviousness, and denying the only Lord God, and our Lord Jesus Christ. Rigid C;ilvinism admits of no secret councils of God ; it undertakes to give a reason for them all. See Rom. 28th to the end ; the 33d verse is, " O the depth of the riches, both of the wisdom and knowledge of God ! how unsearchable are his judg- ments, and his ways past finding out." Ctilvinism knows the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God ; and Arminianism pretends to know the same ; but I am persuaded that neither of them can fathom the depth. The sinner truly humbled, never stops to inquire about his own activity : he cheerfully and correctly gives all the glory to God. If the Calvinist were really more righteous than his neighbour — more ac- tive in holy exercises than the Arminian, I should be tempted to say, in the language of our Saviour, Matt. jtxi. 28. " But what think ye ? A certain man had two sons : and he came to the first, and said. Son, go this day and work in my vineyard. He answer- 2lt 330 cd, and said, I will not : but afterwards he repented, and went. And he came to the second, and said likewise. And he answered, and said, I go. Sir, but went not." Now, if what the Calvinist says be true, that in the resorts of Calvinism, more piety and evangelical holiness are found, than in the resorts of Arminianism, I would allegorize as follows : — The Calvinist says he cannot go, but he repents and goes ; — the Arminian says that he can go ; he is in- excusable, therefore, if he does not go. Some Cal- viiiists, not all, say that he does not go. A very em- inent Calvinist divine, in my hearing, not long since, said in the pulpit, I will not say, " that no Arminian can be saved," or words to this effect. A question immediately arose in my mind, can this worthy di- vine draw the line precisely, so that a Calvinist and an Arminian may be accurately distinguished, the one from the other ? I have heard professed Arminian di- vines fervently and animatedly inculcate the doc- trine of the mere, pure, simple, grace of God, in the salvation of any one or more sinners. God only knows the feebleness of my intellect ; it is what he has given me ; and feeble as it is, 1 thank him for it, and should be ashamed to ask his forgive- ness for not having given me a more comprehensive mind. I lay no claim to perfect correctness of ideas, in building upon the foundation, Jesus Christ. I only propose my ideas for consideration, having no desire to make proselytes. If they do not harmonize with the reason of others, I surely shall not com- plain. If others reason coolly and deliberately 331 against me, I will thank them for it. If they rail, I will only say, in the words of Judc, " Yet Michael, the archangel, when contending with the devil, (he disputed about tlie body of Moses,) durst not bring against him a railing accusation, but said, tlie Lord rebuke thee." I do verily believe, that every one who can read, and has a bible, has a talent ; and if he does not righdy improve it, he will be justly condemned ; if he does not hear the Spirit immediately speaking to him in the holy Scriptures, if one should arise from the dead, he would not hear him. Peter says. Acts iv. 28. ** For to do whatsoever thy hand and thy council had determined before to be done." The translation might have been, " For to do whatsoever thy power and thy will had deter- mined before to be done." The event referred to is, the death of Christ, in which die power and the will of God were most graciously displayed ; not to the murderous act of those mentioned in the preceding verse — " For, of a truth, against thy holy child Je- sus, whom thou hast anointed, both Herod and Pon- tius Pilate, with the Gentiles, and the people of Is- rael, were gathered together." Ps. xl. 8. " I de- light to do thy -willy O my God." Paul applies these words to Christ, Heb. x. 7. " Then said I, lo, I come ! in the volume of the book it is written of me, to do thy will, O God." It was God's good will and pleasure, that Christ should die ; but he as- sures us, that he takes no pleasure in the death of a sinner. Therefore, to infer, from the predetermina- 33^ tion of what was to be done to Christ, a predetermi- nation that sin should exist, would be manifestly an incorrect inference. To bring a clean, out of an un- clean thing, is the mysterious work of God : but to bring an unclean, out of a clean thing, is not the work of God at all. " Non decreverat Deus fieri peccatum illorum, sed mortem filii sui. Decrevit quod haec fierent, non quod Judaei haec facerent : hoc enim, duntaxat praevidit." Acts iv, 28. Pol. Syn. I believe that Christ died for all the human race, because the Scrip- tures expressly assert that there will be some who will deny the Lord that bought them. If Christ died for open and professed infidels — if Christ, by his death, bought them ; then it follows, that he died for those who do not openly and professedly deny the Lord that bought them ; who make profession of faith with the mouth, and not with the heart — ^the words of the mouth, and the meditations of the heart, not corresponding with each other. Then it follows, that he died for all that never heard of the name of Jesus Christ ; who never denied the Lord that bought them. These three classes must embrace all ; that is, the bold denier of ti'uths plainly and clearly represented to him as trutlis ; the hypocritical professor of prais- ing God with a '* solemn sound upon a thouglitless tongue ;'' and those who, without God's revealed will, have a faint knowledge of him by his visible works. I believe in universal, in opposition to particular 333 redemption, (not in universal application,) because the most profound ol' all Paul's Epistles, the Epis- tle to the Romans, plainly and decidedly teaches us the doctrine of universal redemption. This, the in- comparable Locke, in his paraphrase, has made so evident to me, that I should deny first principles, if I denied it. I say, " not in universal application,^^ because Paul forbids the idea of universal applica- tion ; and Locke so construes what he says. I would refer the reader to the whole epistle, more es- pecially to the tenth chapter, and Locke*s critical pa- raphrase on the same. The ablest and best Calvinistic divines, even those that are strenuous for particular, against universal re- demption, do frequently assert, from the pulpit, that no person was ever forced into the kingdom of hea- ven ; that God does not treat men as mere machines ; to suppose such a thing would be absurd ; no person was ever saved but willingly ; no person was ever lest, but by his own obstinacy. How to reconcile this with the opinion that Christ did not die for all ; that he made satisfaction to the divine law and jus- tice for A and B, but not for C and D, is beyond my powers of apprehension ; that is, complete and full atonement has not been made to the divine law. If it be granted, that Christ died for all, it will not from this follow, that all will be saved. 1 John ii. 2. '* And he is the propitiation for our sins ; and not for ours only ; but also for the sins of the whole Tivorld." The holy and spiritual law which man transgressed, is one indivisible thing ; it has not two parts to it, so that one part might be satisfied by the blood of Jesus Christ, and the other part remain un- satisfied. The question is not, how many will be saved ? but, has the law been fully satisfied for man's breach of it, by the shedding of Christ's blood ? All mankind will not be saved ; therefore, Christ did not die for all mankind, is a mere begging of the ques- tion. The same is the case with the following argu- ment : — All that Christ died for will be saved ; but Christ died for all mankind ; therefore all will be saved. Paul establishes the fact of universal redemption, ly^,ffXiulJl^^^^ of practica l application only, Heb x. 29. " Of how much sorer punishment, suppose ye, shall he be thought worthy, who hath trodden under foot the Son of God, and hath counted the blood of the co- venant, wherewith he was sanctijied an unholy thing, and hath done despite unto the spirit of grace." 1 C. viii. 11. " And through thy knowledge shall the weak brother perish, for whom Christ died." Now, he that makes the foundation of his argument for particular redemption only, particular application, expressly contradicts the above passages of Scrip- ture : he follows his own feeble reason, and pays no attention to what the Scriptures say. The following passage is exti-acted from the se- cond President Edwards' Sermon, delivered at the ordination of Mr. Brown, not on account of any sin- gular perspicuity in it. *' Does saving faith imply either a belief, that Christ died for him in particular, who is the subject Olil of the faith, or a belief tliat he died for all men, in such a sense at least, that he has made atonement for all ? It is said by some, that there is no foundation for me to exercise faith in Christ, but the one or the other of these : a belief that Christ died for me in particular, and made atonement for my sins in parti- cular ; or a belief that he hath made sufficient atone- ment for all mankind ; that if I believe that he died for me in particular, I have a foundation on which to trust in him : or if I believe that he hath made an atonement sufficient for all men, I still have a foun- dation on which I may trust in him for salvation : but that beside these two, there is no other founda- tion for faith or trust in him : that therefore all those who believe that Christ hath made atonement for the sins of the elect only, must have the appropriating faith, or a faith which consists in believing that Christ died for them in particular. *' Concerning all this, I beg leave to observe, that if by saving faith we mean a trust or reliance on Christ, in the persuasion, that /le will save us, it must imply either a belief that he died for us in particular, or a belief that he died, and hath made atonement for all men. But if by saving faith we mean, as I conceive that we ought to mean, a firm belief of the report and doctrine of the Gospel; and a firm belief of the character, offices, and sufficiency of Jesus Christ, as a Saviour ; and a cordial complacency in him ; and a willing acquiescence in the way of salvation through him ; saving faith may exist in a man, who believes 336 neither that Christ died for him in particular, nor that he has made atonement sufficient for all men." Saving faith may exist in one who does not be- lieve that Christ died for him in particular, and that he has not made atonement sufficient for all men. Is saving faith then mere chance, mere contingency ? The question, For what individual did Christ die ? carries its own absurdity with it. He did not die for A, B, and C. He died to make complete repara- tion for the breach of the divine law of justice.- Christ is the end of the law for righteousness. The seed of the woman shall bruise the serpent's head. As in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made filive ; that is, all shall again be placed in a salvable state, on a higher grade than Adam was placed. Adam, in his state of innocency, transgressed : so also do they who tread under foot the Son of God, and count the blood of the covenant, wherewith they were sanctified, an unholy thing, and do despite to the spirit of grace. The foundation is grace : the superstructure has no other foundation than grace. Have sincere Christians any merits of debt ? If the reader can have access to three sermons of Johri Smally, pastor of a Church in Berlin, in Connecti- eut, pubhshed 1785, 1786, 1787, he will find the subject of free grace, from beginning to end, handled in a manner rather curious. I understand that this Rev. gentleman has a very high character among Calvinistic divines in Connecticut : he seems, how- ever, to be a great opposer of imputed righteousness. 337 He says, " Merit is ever personal ; in the nature of things it cannot be otherwise.'' This sentence agrees precisely with what Paine says in his Age of Reason. Mr. Smally says, that " another's having been rigli- teous, doth not make me righteous, if I have not been so myself; nor can the sufferings of another make me faultless, wherein I have been a sinner." It appears to me, that the New Testament exhibits to us clearly and plainly, a very different doctrine. Mr. Smally discards what the first president Ed- wards says, in the first set of his posthumous ser- mons, which is as follows : — " Salvation is an abso- lute debt to the believer from God, so that he may in justice demand and challenge it, not upon the ac- count of what he himself has done, but upon the ac- count of what his surety has done." He says, tliat " Mr. Thomas Hooker, the first minister of Hart- ford, carries the matter still further, as to 'debt.' " Mr. Smally says, " Christ is not so the end of the law, but tliat personal righteousness is still ne- cessary, in order to eternal life. Not only is perfect obedience as much our duty as ever."- The Antino- mian says, that he has been justified from all eternity, and that he cannot commit any deadly sin. The pious Mr. Baxter says, that the Antinomians in his day, that had adopted the idea that they were justified from all eternity, fell into the most grievous sins. As to imputed righteousness, I think Locke much more correct th^ Mr. Smally. 2 s 538 In a note to his paraphrase on Romans iv. 8. he "Says, :>toy»er made an intelligent creature for the express 341 purpose of dooming that creature to exist in inter- minable misery, for the good of his universal govern- ment. What may be for the good of God's universe, man knows not ; and we ought to be extremely care- ful, not from assumed principles to make any infer- ence respecting it. Some have been bold enough to say that we ought to be willing to suffer eternal tor- ments for the good of the universe ; and they ground the opinion on Rom. ix. 3. " For I could wish that myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh, ^vho are Israelites indeed." 1. " I could wish." Some have supposed that Paul has reference to the time before his conversion. When I was an enemy to Christy " I could -wish to be separated from Christ.^'* — Pole's Synopsis is against this idea. And it appears to me, that Paul, a bitter enemy of Jesus Christ, could not say, " I could wish that '..^self were accursed from Christ," &c. whilst he looked upon Jesus to be a vile impostor. Could Paul wish to be separated from Christ, before he was joined to him ? The idea appears to me to be evidently incorrect. /, Paul^ hadjhrmerly wished to be separated from Christ for my brethren^ Sec. Paul, in his converted state, had continual heaviness of heart, and sorrow for his brethren ; he had strong and anxious desires for their future happiness : in this state he says he could have wished for something that might hare been a benefit to his brediren. 2. AVhat was it that Paul could have wished for, 342 that thereby he might have benefitted his brethren V 1 answer, that the Greek word «>«9Eii^4 or avatfin/iiot, ad- mits of several meanings distinctly different. In Demosthenes, if I remember rightly, it signifies a trophy taken from an enemy, and hung up in the temples of the Gods. Hedericus gives four mean-, ings to the word. 1. Execratio. 2. Seperatio, aliena- tio. 3. Segregatio a communi usu ad usum Sac- rum. The third meaning is a separation from a common xise to a sacred use. And this is the meaning tliat may with propriety be given to the word as used by St. Paul : and his argument I take to be as follows. To Peter was expressly committed the Gospel of circumcision, and to Paul the Gospel of uncir- cumcision, as we find in Gal. ii. 7. " When they saw that the Gospel of uncircumcision was committed to me, as the Gospel of circumcision was to Peter : for he that wrought effectually in Peter, to the apos- tleship of the circumcision, the same was mighty in me towards the Gentiles." The converted, more especially the unconverted Jews, were Paul's most bitter enemies. He gives un- answerable reasons why they should not be so. Now, the following appears to me to be the construction we ought to give to Rom. ix. 3. " For I could wish that myself were, (or had been,) set apart by Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh, who are Israelites indeed." But God himself order- ed it othervvise. 343 Both Peter and Piiul were set apart to very painful offices, which subjected them to persecutions, and finally to crucifixion. Paul says. Col. i. 23, 24. " If ye continue in the faith, grounded and settled, and be not moved away from the hope of the Gos- pel which ye have heard, and which was proclaimed to every creature which is under heaven, whereof I, Panl, am made a minister; who now rejoice in my sufferings for you, and fill up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ in my flesh, for his bodies' sake, which is the Church." 2 Cor. V. 21. " For he hath made him to be sin for us, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him." Gal. iii. 13. " Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us." Christ was made an ccm9(fM. I am very doubtful, as to the correctness of the translation of Col. i. 23. And I submit it to the learned, whether the following would not be more correct. " If ye continue in the faith, grounded and settled, and be not moved away from the hope of the Gospel, which, (or of which,) ye have heard, it being, or having been, proclaimed for every crea- ture, which is under heaven ;" that is, for all the hu- man race. Another object that I have had in view has been, *to show, that let the will be as free as it ma}', the pos- sessor of it cannot bring a clean thing out of an 544 unclean thing : and that to be a sincere Christian, requires the full exercise of the three modes of think- ing which we experience within ourselves ; that is, perception of the object, choice of the object, and a fixed determination, which I call the will, to acquire the object. Permit me to request you to read the foregoing observations with candour, and to point out to me the errors that I may have fallen into ; and if ever I should have an opportunity, they shall be corrected. I am, dear and Rev. Sir, Very respectfully. Your most obdt. servant, SAMUEL OSGOOD. ERRATA. rage 44, line 1, instead of fcr days, read for mnny dsyt- rt2, line S ftroin top, iiistead of antitype, read type, 82, last line— So, ist and fith lines, instead of 370, read 313. lee, line 15 from top, instead of 2SC0, read 2300, r.95, line 6 from top, instead of tlduvijn, read diluvian. 309 line 4 from top, instead oteffectnall, read effecttinlly. "27. line 5 from bottom, instead cf Vortiui, rt-ad Vorstius. " 5 !, Iltte 18 from top, instead o£ practiail, KsA pttrticvUiT, •.7INIS. APPENDIX. J_ F there be any saints, chosen elect of God, among the Relbrmetl divines, 1 have no doubt that tlic late Di'. \V att* is not only one, but one of them of a distinguished grade. In seveial things I cannot agree with Dr. Watts in opin- ion, as to speculative matters. In essentials, i believe he was not only a correct divine, an excellent scholar, posses- sed of no ordinary abilities, and singularly amiable and charitable. In order further to elucidate my views of re- deeming love, I will introduce Dr. Watts' thirteenth ques- tion on the ruin and recovery of mankind. Quest. 13. " How far has the glorious undertaking of our Lord Jesus Christ provided any hope of salvation for those who were not eternally chosen, and given into the bands of Christ, to be redeemed and saved ?" He says, " The inquiiy is not, whether any of them who are not originally chosen of God, shall be finally saved. The event, though it be known to God, yet it is left to be determined by their own choice, or refusal of salvation. God himself has put no effectual and insurmountable bar;, or rather no bar at all, in their way, to prevent their ac- ceptance of his grace. His choosing other persons who were fellow-sinners, to make them certain partakers of this grace, is no hinderance to those who were not chosen from accepting the same. It is my opinion, that there is such a thing as a general sufficiency of pardon, grace, and happi- ness, provided for all mankind by Jesus Christ; and it is left to their own natural powers, under common helps, to accept or refuse it. That there is such a conditional sal- ration, and such real offers of eternal life procured by th<" 346 overflowing meiit of Christ, I think may be proved by these following considerations. 1. It is very hard to vindicate the sincerity of the blessed God, or his Son, in their universal offers of grace and sal- vation to men, and their sending ministers with such mes- sages and invitations to accept of mercy, if there be no such a conditional pardon and salvation provided for them. It is granted, that the ministers who are sent to preach this Gospel, and offer this grace of salvation to the non-elect, may be very sincere in their ministry ; for they know not whom God hath chosen, and for whom he hath provided this special grace ; and therefore they offer it to all per- sons, according to their general commission. Mark xvi. 15. *' Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature." But how can God or Christ be sincere in sending their ministers with this commission, to offer this grace to all men, if they know that God has never provid- ed such grace or salvation for any but the elect ; no, not so much as conditionally ? It is hard to suppose, that the great God, who is trath itself, and sincere and faithful in all his dealings, should call upon dying men to trust in a Saviour for eternal life, when this Saviour has not eternal life intrusted with him to give them, if they do repent : it is hard to conceive how the great Governor of the world can be sincere in inviting and requiring sinners, who are on the brink of hell, to cast themselves upon an empty word of invitation, a mere shadow and appearance of support, if there be nothing real to bear them up from those depths of destruction — nothing but mere words and emj)ty invitations. Can we think that the righteous and holy God would encourage his ministers to call them to lean and rest the weight of their immortal concerns and happiness upon a Gospel, a covenant of grace, a Mediator, and his merit and righteousness, &c. all which are a mere nothing with regard to them, a heap of empty names, an unsupporting void, which cannot uphold them I When olir blessed Redeemer charges the Jews with 347 aggravated guilt for refusing his grace, can we suppose he had no such grace in ills hand to offer them ? or when he, as it were, consigns them over to death, because, says he. Ye will not come unto mc that ye moi/ have life, John v. 40. can we suppose he has no eternal life, not so much as a conditional griuit of it in his hands for them ? By the way, 1 cannot but take notice here, that in order to avoid these hard and absurd consequences of the calls of grace, and offers of salvation wiiere none is really provided, some persons choose rather roundly to assert, there are no calls of grace, no offers of pardon or salvation at all in tht^ ■Word of God to any but the elect : and, 1 think, of the two, that it is the most defensible or consistent doctrine, though it seems to run counter to a great many plain scriptures in the old testament and the new : for there are many texts wherein pardon and salvation are proposed to all sinners whatsoever, without any regard, whether they ai=e chosen of God or no : And it is the design and voice of the whole current of Scripture, to call sinners to repentance by promises of mercy, and to enforce that which Isaiah speaks, c. xl. 6, 7. " Seek ye the Lord while he may be found : call ye upon him while he is near : let the wicked forsake his way ; and the unrighteous man his thoughts : let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon." And what our Lord himself pronounces in his personal ministry has the same design, when he calls to all the sinners in Gali- lee, " Repent and believe the Gospel, for I come not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance," Mark ii. 17. And St. Peter and St. Paul, his two messengers or apos- tles, call all the crucifiers of Christ in general, and the heathen nations, to repent and be converted, that their sins might be blotted out ; and to believe in the name of the Lord Jesus that they may be saved. Acts iii. ly, and xiii. 38, and xvii. 30. He commands all men erery zi/here to repent, Rom. x. 11. 13. while our Saviour most expressly informs us, Matt, xxii, 14. that many ari; cuUea, but jew 548 are chosen. Yet, I think, we must cancel all these Sciipturea, and deny all offers of grace and salvation made to sinners in general, if Christ procured nothing for them : or we must grant that there is a conditional salvation provided for all mankind, in order to justify the sincerity of God and his Son, in the public call and general invitation given to sinners to repent and accept of salvation. 2. It is very hard to defend the sincerity of God, in awakening the consciences of these persons sometimes, who are not elected, and stirring them up to think of re- ceivmg the salvation of Christ upon the terms of the Gos- pel, if there be no such salvation conditionally provided for them to receive : it is hard to suppose that God should send his own Spirit to excite the consciences of such sin- ners, in any common degrees, to any repentings for sin, even in the most legal sense, and to bring them near to the kingdom of heaven in the beginnings of conviction and sorrow, if there was no pardon provided in any sense for those who are not chosen, whether they repeat or no : or that the Spirit should give them any, even the weakest ex- citations, to trust in the merit of a Saviour, if that merit has obtained no blessing for them, not so much as condi- tional Shall it be ever said, that God the Father, and his Son and Spirit, have each done their parts to encourage and excite non-elect sinners to trust in the Gospel for salvation, or the least grace or salvation in a conditional sense pro- vided for them to trust in, or accept of? 3. It IS equally difficult to vindicate the equity of God, as the judge of all men, in condemning unbelievers, and punishing them eternally, for not accepting the offers of pardon, if there was not so much as a conditional pardon provided for them ; and for not resting on the merit of Christ, and receiving his salvation, when there was no such Uieiit appointed for them to rest upon, nor any such salva- tion for them to receive. Surely it will appear in the day ot judgment, that the final condemnation of sinners, and then* eternal misery, was merely the iiuit of their own 349 Begligenee and disobedience to the voice of the Gospel, and letusiiig the oflered grucc^ and not to any real want of surticient provision made tor theui by liiiu who calls them to receive it. The language of Christ in his ministry to sinners is, Come to this feast of the Gospel, for all things are ready. Matt. xxii. 24. This is the condemnation, that Tvhen light c^me into the world, they loved darkness rather than light. John iii. 18, ly. Men are expressly con- demned, because they would not believe in Christ, nor come unto him, that they might have life, c. v. 40.; and therefore they die in their sins, as the apostle John often represents, c. viii. 21. 24. Surely the Lord Jesus would never be sent injiamingfre to render vengeance on thciu that obey not the Gospel, (2 Thes. i. 8, 9.) in the commands of it, nor receive this salvation, if there was not sufficient salvatioil provided in that Gospel which commands them to receive it. It will render this consideration much more forcible, when we observe, that there is a much severer condemna- tion, and more dreadful punishment, threatened to those who have heard of this grace, and never laid hold of it, in proportion to the degree of light in which this grace was set before them. It is said. It shall be less tolerable for the cities rchich refused to receive the Gospel that Christ preached, than for Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment, Matt. xi. 22. And they that despised the Gospel of Christ, of how much sorer punishment suppose ye shall they be thought worthy, than those that despised Moses' law? Heb. x. 28, 29. So that their enjoying the proposals of this grace, makes their case much worse than if they had never enjoyed it : and can we think that the righteous judge of the world will merely send words of grace and salvation amongst them, on purpose to make his creatures so much the more miserable, when there is no Teal grace or salvation contained in these words for them who receive it.? It is very hard, indeed, to vindicate the pighteousness of the sentence of their double condemna- 350 tion and punishment, for the refusal of pardon and salva- tion, if there was not so much as a conditional pardon, and a conditional salvation, provided for them. 4. It is very hard to suppose, that when the word of God, by the general commands, promises, and threatenings, given to all men whatsoever, and often repeated therein, represents mankind in a state of probation*, and in the way towards eternal rewards, or eternal punishments, ac- cording to tlieir behaviour in this life — I say, it is hard to suppose all this should be no real and just representation, but a mere amusement : that all these proposals of mercy, and displays of the gracious dealings of God, should be an empty show with regard to all the millions of mankind, besides the few that are chosen to happiness ; and that they should really be so fixed in a wretched, hopeless, and deplorable state, under the first sin of the first man, that they are utterly irrecoverable from the ruins of it; and that even as unalterably *o as devils are, without any hope of recovery from their state of guilt and misery, for whom there was no Saviour provided, and whom God has not treated in this way of precept, promising and threatening. Is there not a plain diflference made in Scripture between the angels zoho sinned, whom God spared not, hut cast them down from heaven into chains of darkness, and man- kind who sinned, to whom God gives time and space for re- * I know it has been the opinion of some persons, that this life is not pro- perly called a state of probation, or trial of men for eternity, because the final event is not uncertain, since it is knoAvn to God already, and partly determin- ed by him : and yet these very persons will say that a season of affliction or teraptation is a season of trial to the people of God ; for so it is often called in Scriptiu-e. 2. Cor. viii. 2. Heb. xi. 36. 1 Pet. ir. 12. & 1 Pet.i. 7. ; it is called the trial of our fmth, &c. Now, I would fain know, whether the event of every season of trial of every kind of men, whctlier of s;uuts or sinucrs, be not knofln to God, and in this sense is uncertain ; and yet Scripture with much propriety calls the one a season of trial : and I see no reason to exclude the other from the same name, especially since the sacred writei-s use it for wicked men also. Rev. iii. 10. " I w ill keep thee from Uie hour of tempta- tion, (or trial,) which s'lall come upon all the worW, to try them which dwell upon the earth." 351 pcntance, means of grace, oficrs of pardon, conditional promises of salvation, with a command for all men to ac- cept of it r What can manifest the blessed God to be up- on terms of mercy with them, if this does not ? 5. This seems to be a fair and easy way to answer several of those texts of Scripture wiiich represent God as the Sa- viour of all men, (speciallif of them zeho believe, 1 Tim, iv. 10.; and assert that God calls and commands all men every where to repent, Acts xvii. 30. That Christ tasted death for every man, Heb. ii. 9* That he gave himself a ransom for all men, to be testified in due time, 1 Tim. ii. 0. That he died for all, 2 Cor. v. 15. That he gave himself to be the propitiation for the sins of the world, 1 John ii. '2. And the Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world, c. iv. 14. And that God so loved the world of mankind, that he sent his Son not ta condemn the world, hut that through him the zc'orld might be saved. And that Avhoso- ever believes in his Son Jesus, should not perish^ but should have eternal life, John iii. l6, 17. I grant, indeed, that many of the Scriptures may have a pretty sufficient answer given to them by the art of criti- cism, even upon the supposition, that salvation is provided only for the elect : but there are some few of those Scrip- tures, and of their parallel places, which can never be so well explained, but by supposing the death of Christ has such an all-sufficient and overflowing merit in it, as to provide a sufficient conditional pardon, and conditional salvation for the non-elect, while it also provides absolute, effectual, and certain pardon and salvation for those whom God has elected. It seems evident to me, from several texts of the word of God, that Christ did not die with an equal design for all men ; but that there is a special number whom the Father chose and gave to the Son, whose salvation is ab- solutely secured by the death and intercession of Christ, John xviii. 6. 9, 10. : but why should this hinder our inter- pretation of some other texts in a more general and Ca- tholic sense, where the love of God and Christ to mankind are expressed in more universal phrases and terms ? Why should we aft'ect to limit that grace which is expressed in an unlimited form of speech ? Why may we not suppose conditional pardon, and conditional salvation, and the of- fers of the Gospel, and the means of grace which are ne- cessary to it, to be the pwchase of the death of Christ, -since the death of so glorious a person has such an exube- rant value in it, and such all-sufficient merit : and especial- ly, since it is allowed to supe-r-abound so far as to purchase the continuance of the world, and common blessings of life to mankind ? Here let it be observed, that when the Remonstrants as- sert, that Christ died for all mankind, merely to purchase conditional salvation for them, and when those, wlio pro- fess to be the strictest Calvinists* assert, Christ died only and merely to procure absolute and effectual pardon and salvation for the elect, it is not because the whole Scripture every where expressly or plainly reveals or asserts the par- ticular sentiments of either of these sects, with an exclu- sion of the other ; but the reason of these different asser- tions of men is this ; that the holy writers, in different texts, pursuing different subjects, and speaking to different per- sons, sometimes seem to favour each of these two opinionsf ; and men being at a loss to reconcile them by any medium, run into different extremes, and entirely follow one of these tracts of thought, and neglect the other. But, surely, if there can be a way found to reconcile these two doctrines 9f the absolute salvation of the elect, by the obedience, * I say, those -who profess to be the strictest Calvinists : not that they d» come nearest to Calvin's sentiments and language ; for Calvin himself haa li'cquently intimated, in his Comments on Scripture, that Christ did, in some sense, die for all men. ^ This is a most evident truth, that Scriptui-e, in different parts of it, seems by its expressions to favour each of these opinions : otherwise it could never be, that the writers of the different parties should each of them bring so many texts to support and vindicate their own sentiments, and which phiinly give so much difficulty and perplexity lo the. writers of the oypysite side ta answer them. 1 353 iightoousness, aril death of Christ, procuring it for ihem, With all thini^s ne(;cssarv to the possession of it, and also of the conditional salvation provided for all mankind, and of- fered to them in the gospel, through the all-sufficient and oveiiiowinff value of the obedience and sufferings of Christ. This will be the most fair, natural, and easy way of recon- ciling those different texts of Scripture, without any strain or torture put upon any of them. Nor indeed can I conceive why the Remonstrant, (Armi- nian,) should be uneasy to have pardon and salvation ab- solutclv provided tor the elect, since all the rest of mankind, especially such as hear the Gospel, have the same condi- tional salvation which they contend for, sincerely proposed to their acceptance : nor can I see any reason why the stiictcst Calvinist should be angry that the all-sufficient merit of Christ should overflow so far in its influence, as to provide-conditional salvation for all mankind, since the elect of God have that certain and absolute salvation which they contend for, secured to them by the same merit ; and especially smce that i^rcat and admirable Reformer, John Calvm, whose name the)- affect to wear, and to whose au- thority they pay so great a regard, has so plainly declared in his writings, that there is a sense in which Christ died for the siiis of the whole world, or all mankind : and he sometimes goes so far as to call this the redemption of all. See his Comments on the following Scriptures* : iVJatt. xviii. 8. This is my blood of the New Testament, which was shed for many for the remission of sins. Sub multorum nomine non partem mundi tantum disignat, sed totum humanum genus. Under the name of many, he sig- nifies not a part of the world only, but all mankind. Rom. V. J8. As by the offence of one, judgment came • It may be proper to observe here, that some of the most rigid and nar- row limitations of grace to men, are found chiefly in his Institutions, wliich were written in Yus youth. Rut his comments on Scripture wea-e the labours of his riper years, and maturer judgment- 2 Z 354 upon all to c5ondemnation, so by the righteousness of one, the free gift came upon all men to justification of life. Communem omnium gratiam facit quia omnibus exposita est, non quod ad omnes extendatur re ipsa : nam etsi pas- sus est Christus pro peccatis totius mundi, atque Omnibus indifferenter Dei benignitate offertur^ non tamen omnes ap- prehendunt. He makes this grace common to all, because it is set before all, though not really and in fact reached out to all. For though Christ suffered for the sins of the whole world, and he is offered indifferently to all by the bounty of God, yet all do not receive him. 1 Cor. viii. 11, 12. "Through thy knowledge shall the weak brother perish for whom Christ died." On which Calvin remarks thus : " if the soul of every weak person was the purchase of the blood of Christ, he that for the sake of a little meat, plunges his brother again into death who was redeemed by Christ, shows at how mean a rate he esteems the blood of Christ." 1 John ii. 2. " He is the propitiation for our sins : and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world.'' Hicmovetur quaistio, quomodoniundi totius peccata expi- entur ? aliqui dixerunt — sufficienter pro toto mundo pas- sum esse Christum, sed pro electis, tantum efficaciter. Vul- go haec solutio in scholiis obtinuit : Ego quanquam verum esse illud dictum fateor, nego tamen presenti loco quadrare. Here a question is raised, how can the sins of the whole world be expiated ? Some have said, Christ suffered suffi- ciently for the whole world, but effectually for the elect only : this is the common solution of the schools : and though I confess this is a truth, yet I do not think it agrees to this place. 2. P. ii. 1. "There shall be false teachers among you who privily shall bring in damnable heresies, even denying the Lord that bought them, and bring upon themselves swift destruction." Tamisti variis mod is abne- gatiir Christus, eum tamen hie, meo judicio, attingit Pe- trus, qui expernitur apud Judam : nempe dum gratia Dei in lasciviam convertitur. Tledemit enira nos Christus, ut 355 populumhabctscgregalumab omnibus mundi inquiiiHineo- tis AJdictuin Sanctitati, et innocentio. Qui igitur ex- cusso tVa'iio, in omncm licentiam se j)ro)iciunt, non imme- rito dicuntur Christum ubnegare, a quo redempti sunt. That is, though Christ is denied many ways, yet in my opin- ion Peter means the same thing here which Jude expresses, viz. that the grace of God is turned into wantonness : for Christ hath redeemed us, that he might have a people free from all the defilements of the world, and devoted to holi- ness and innocence. Whosoever therefore shake off the yoke, and throw themselves into licentioussness, are justly »aid to deny Christ, by whom they were redeemed. Jude V. 4. " Turning the grace of our God into wan- tonness, and denying the only Lord God, and Jesus Christ our Lord." Christum vero abnegari intelligit, quum hi qui sanguine illius redempti fuerant, diabolo se rursus mancipantes, in- comparabile illud pretium quantum in se irritum faciunt. The Apostle here means that Christ is denied, when those who were redeemed with his blood, again enslave them- selves to the Devil, and, as far as in them lies, make that incomparable price vain and ineffectual. Thus it appears that Calvin himself thought that Christ and his salvation are offered to all, and that in some sense he died for all. 6. That all mankind have some conditional salvation provided for them, and some real grace and pardon offered to them by a new covenant, appears from this, that all men, both wicked and righteous, or just and unjust, shall be raised from the dead, to give an account of things done in the body, whether good or evil, and to receive rewards and punishments in their body, as well as in their souls, ac- cording to their improvement or misimprovement of the dispensations under which they have lived : this seems to be the sense of several Scriptures ; John v. 28, 29. 2 Cor. V. 10. Now a resurrection is by no means provided by the law of innocency, or the covenant of works : that only threatens death for sin, without the least hint or thought of 356 the bodies rising again. This doctrine of the resurrec- tion, therefore, seems to be the effect of the overflowing merit of Christ, and perhaps that expression of the Apos- tle may have some reference to it. 1 Cor. xv. 21, 22. '' Since by man came death, by man came also the resur- rection of the dead; for as in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive." Though I confess it may be also construed and confined only to the resurrection of the saints. But it is evident that Jesus Christ has this power to raise the dead, even sinners as well as saints, and au- thoritii to judge all the world, given him of the father as mediator, or because he is the son of man. And they that are in the graves — shall come forth : they who have done good to the resurrection of life ; and they that have done evil to the resurrection of damnation. John v. 2o — 29. They who have believed in Christ, and obeyed him, shall be raised up at last to happiness ; but those who have diso- beyed the gospel, shall be raised in order to be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord. 2 Thess. i. y. Tsow surely this resursection of all mankind, must be built on the foot of a new covenant, given or offered to all mankind, since the old covenant of innocenc}'^, or the law of works, appoints eternal life, without dying for the obedi-^ ent, and death without a resurrection for the disobedient. Such a covenant as admits natural death, to seize even upon those who are obedient to it, and provides a resurrection even lor those who are disobedient, must meeds be a differ- ent covenant from the law of works, which admits no death for the one, nor provides any resurrection for the other. There was therefore, doubtless, a general proclamation of pardon, and salvation to all mankind, who were fallen n Adam, contained in the first promise, or the gospel that •was preached to Adam, the first father of mankind, by God himself, in the garden, after his fall. And this was again preached to Noah, the second father of mankmd, and a preacher of righteousness : otherwise, I think, the resur- 357 rection would not reach to every man and woman in the world Let it be coiisideied also, that this very resurrec- tion of" the h()(hfs of'sintul mankind brings with it an addi- tional penalty and misery, beyond whatthe lawotinnocen- cy threatened, even lUe everlasting punishment of the new raised body, and the soul united to it. Now this can- not, with so evident justice, be inflicted upon the non-elect, it' thev arc under no other covenant but that ot" innocency^ or the law ot works, because no such punishment is threat- ened, or implied in that law, as far as I can read it. Nor would there have been any such thing as sinners arising from the dead, that we can find in the Bible^ if Christ had not taken upon hira to be mediator between God and fallen man, so far as to set mankind upon some new foot of hope ; and thus unbelievers and impenitent persons are punished in their new raised bodies, for rejecting this hope. For s^ince the broken law, or covenant of works, leaves the body under the power of death for ever, we can hardly suppose that the Son of God, the chief minister of his Fa- ther's grace, would provide a resurrection of the body for breakers of that original law, merely to put them to severer punishments and more intense torments, than that broken law threatened, if there were not some advantage in the na- ture of things, derived to them from his mediation, to ba- lance it. Now, what equal advantage is there to balance this severer punishment, if there be not some conditional hope of their recovery from the misery of the fallen state, npon supposition that they sincerely endeavour to perform all the duties of this new covenant, so far as the revelation of them comes within their notice : that is, that they re- pent of their sins, and trust in the divine grace and forgive- ness, in order to their acceptance. Our Lord Jesus Christ, the" righteous and appointed .ludge, will never give occasion for any of all the miserable multitude to say, that they are condemned to an endless punishment in their new raised bodies, for breaking God's original law of innocency, which punishment was never 358 threatened in tlie law. He will never give them reason to comphiin, that, with regard to them, he came not to be a Mediator or Saviour, but merely to add to their misery, by a resurrection to eternal pain, without any equivalent of hope : or, that he came to expose them to double damna> lion for refusing his grace, when he had none for them to accept. The goddness and equity of God and his Son, will never suffer such an imputation to fall upon any part of their transactions : and as they have both agreed in pronouncing these words, John iii. 17. God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved*. Since, therefore, it appears pretty evident, that Jesus, the righteous Judge, will not condemn sinners for refusing that grace, and that salvation, which had no reality in things, and which was never really offered to their acceptance, nor so much as provided : and since he will never punish sin- ners by the mere law or covenant of works, with a punish- ment of a resurrection of the body, which was never threat- ened nor included in that law or covenant, we must con- clude, according to the representation of scripture, accord- to the rules of justice, and the reason of things, that there must be some other covenant, some covenant of grace and salvation, under which all men are situated, and which has really been offered to all mankind, either in clearer or in more obscure notices thereof: such a covenant, whereby the resurrection of the body to eternal happiness, is the appointed reward of those who receive this offered reward of salvation : and whereby the resurrection of the body to eternal misery, is the appointed punishment of those, who refuse to comply with the grace of that dispensation under which they are placed, and neglect to receive this salva- tion. Thus, 1 think, I have proved it pretty clearly, at least • If the word world, in the two or three first places, signifies mankind, with- out distinction, why should the -world, in the last place, signify only the elect ? Is not a conditional or indefinitive salvation here intimated to be proridcd fv lustnkind, whether they be Jews or Gentiles ? 359 to iny own saiistaction, that the non-elect amont^ men, arc not prcilestinatcd to eternal misery by any absolute act of re- probation ; nor are they loft in the state of fallen angels, or devils, for whom there is no Saviour appointed, and who cannot have any reasonable hope : but that there is a con- ditional salvation provided lor all men, and offered to them in the gospel, by the glorious all-sufficiency and redun- dance of the merit ot Christ. The doctrine of reprobation, in the most severe and ab* sulutesenseof it, stands in such a direct contradiction to all our notions of kindness and love to others, in which the blessed God is set forth as our example, that our reasoH cannot tell how to receive it. Yet, if it were never so true, and never so plainly revealed in scripture, it would only be a doctrine v.hich might require our humble assent, and our silent submission to it, with awful reverence of the majesty and sovereignty of the great God. But it is by no means a doctrine, in which we, as men, could or should rejoice and glory, or take pleasure in it : because it hath so dreadful an aspect on far the greatest part of our fellow- creatures, considered as uiere creatures. Nor do 1 think the blessed God would require us so far to divest ourselves of humanity, as to take a secret satisfaction in the ab- solute and eternal appoiulmentof such numbers of our kin- dred in flesh and blood, to everlasting perdition : much less should we make this awful and terrible article a matter of our public boast and triumph, even if we could prove it to be revealed; but rather mourn for it. And since there are so many expressions in Scripture, that give us reason to think that Christ lived and died, in some respects, as a com- mon Mediator of inunkiud, though with a peculiar regard to the elect, methinks this doctrine of the extensive good- ness of God, is a much more desirable opinion, and should be more cheerfully received by us, as it is so agreeable to our charity to all men, and seems so necessary to us at present, for vindicating the justice, goodness, and sincerity of God, m his transactions w iiii mankind. When, therefore, 1 hear 360 men talk of the doctrine of reprobation, with a special gust and i-eHsh, as a favourite article, 1 cannot but suspect their good temper, and question, whether they love their neigh- bour as they do themselves. Tlie case is very different, when saints are called in scripture to rejoice in the public judg- ments of God, exercised upon the antichristian state,or upon the wicked oppressors and incorrigible sinners of the world : for that is the effect of God's equity or righteousness, as a wise and faithful Governor ; but this would be an instance merely of his dreadful sovereignty and terror, and hardly consistent with his goodness. 1 would ask leave also, in this place, to inquire, what great advantage can be derived to religion or Christianity, by endeavouring to limit the extent of the death of Christ, and to take away all manner of hopes, and prayers, and en- deavours, from the non-elect ? Does the doctrme of elec- tion of persons obtain any further conKrmation by it? No, by no means. Their salvation is secured, whatsoever be- comes of the rest of mankind, whether they have any hopes or no. Does the goodness and special grace of God acquire any further honours b}- this limitation ? No, certainly. Divine grace is perfectly the same towards the elect, as though there were no other persons in the world. Are the elect any way discouraged by it ? Not in the least. But many persons who are awakened to a sense of sin, and are seeking after Christ for salvation, by this narrow doctrine, may be terribly discouraged from receiving his offers of grace, when they are taught to doubt whether there be any grace provided for them, or whether Jesus be appointed to act as their Saviour. It may be' a means to drive some . poor souls to despair, when they hear, that unless they are elected, they may seek after salvation by Christ in vain, for there is none purchased for them, not as much as condi- tionally. And it may tempt them to begin at the wrong end, and seek to pry into the councils of God, and inquire after what they can never know, that is, their election of 1 361 God, 1)pfore llie}- dare trust his grace, or submit to tlie gos*- pel ol Cluist. Now, if many inconveniences may arise from this hmita- tation <)t" tlie whole virtue ot" ilie blood ot Christ only tu the elect, and utterly secluding all the rest ot mankind, and it' no valuable end or advantage can be obtaineu by this nar- row opmion, what should make men so zealous to get liie greatest part ot the world excluded utterly from ali l»opes and all salvation ? I know there have been many objec- tions raised against this ciiaritable opiiu.^n, of the extent of Christ's death, in books ot controveisy : but tlie two cl lef, and most plausible, are these, which 1 will endeavour chiefly to answer, and by these answers lead the way lor solving the rest. Objection 1. But may it not be said here, if there be only an outward sudiciency ot salvation provided for the non-elect, by a conditional pardon procured through the death of Christ, if they should repent and believe, but no inward sutficiency of grace provided to enlight- en their minds, to change their hearts, and enable them to exercise this faith and repentance, the event will be irifallibly and necessarily the same, and their damnation as necessary and certain as if there were no outward salva- tion provided r Since they of themselves cannot repent, they cannot believe : for by the fall of all men they are be- come blind in spiritual things, and dead in sin. Answer. It is granted, that no sinner will truly and sin- cerely repent and believe in Christ, without the powerful and etfectual influences of converting grace ; and therefore they are called blind and dead In nn ; because God knows the final event will be the same as if they were under a natural impossibility, or utter natural impotence : and ibr this reason the conversion of a sinner is calied, a new crea- tion ; being born again ; giving sight to tfi blind ; or, a rtsurrection from the dtad. And the necessity of divine power toell'ect this change, is held forth iff man v places of scripture. Yet we must say still, that sinners are not un- der such a real natural iQ>possibility of repenting and be- 3 A 362 iieving, as though they were naturally blind or dead. It is true, the blind and the dead have lost their natural pow- ers of seeing and moving. But when scripture represents the inabihty of sinners to repent, or believe in Christ, by such figures and metaphors as death or blindness, it must be remembered, these are but metaphors and figures, such as the holy writers, and all the eastern nations frequently use. And they must not be understood iu their literal powers, or faculties of understanding, will, and affections, which are the only natural powers ne- cessary to believe and repent. Now it is plain that these natural faculties, powers, or capacities, are not lost by the fall : for if they were, there would be no manner of need or use of any moral means or motives, such as commands, threatenings, promises, exhortations : they would all be im- pertinent and absurd; for they could have no more influence on sinners, than if we command a blind person to see, or a dead body to rise or move : w hich commands and exhorta- tions would appear ridiculous and useless. And since the blessed God, in his word, uses these moral means and mo- tives, to call sinners to repentance and faith, it is certain that they have natural powers and faculties sufficient to understand and practise : and therefore they are not under a necessity of sinning, and of being destroyed, since there is nothing more wanted in a way of sufficient natural pow- 6M, faculties, or abilities, than what they have. All the other impotence and inability, therefore, to sin- -jiers to repent or believe, properly speaking, is but moral, or seated chiefly in their wills. It is a great disinclination or aversion in these natural faculties, to attend to, learn, or practise the things of God and religion* : and this holds * I grant this inability to repent has been sometimes called by our divines a natui'.il impotence, because it arises fi-oni the original corruption of our na- ture since the fall of Adam; and in this sense I fully believe it. But this spring of it is much better siguified and expressed by the name of native im- potence, to show that it comes from our birth ; and the (juality of this impo- teiiCe is best nailed moral, being seated chiefly in the vill and affections, and not iu any waat <3f uatural powers or faculties to perform what God requires; • 363 them fast in their sinful state in a similar way, as if they Were blind or deaii — and 1 said the final event will be the same ; iliat is, the)- will never repent without Almiglity grace. And upon this account, that strong and settled in- clination to sin, and aversion to God, which is in the will or aflections, is represented, in our own language, as well as in the eastern countries, by impotence or inability, cr inability to forsake or subdue sin : as when a drunkard shall say, I had such a strong desire to the liquor, that I could not but drink to excess ; 1 could not withhold the cup from my mouth : or when a murderer shall say, 1 hated my neigh- bour so much, that having a fair opportunity, I could not help killing him : or when we, saying to a man in fury in his passion. You are so warm at pnscnt, that you can- not see things in a true light, you cannot hearken to rea- son, 1/ou cannot judge aright^ you are not capable of acting regularly. And that this is the manner of speaking in the eastern countries, is evident from the Bible, Gen. xxxvii. 4. Joseph's brethren hated him, and could not speak peaceably to him. Yet you will grant all this i^ but moral impotence ; that is, a very strong inclination to excess of drink, or mur- der, or passion, or a strong aversion to the contrary virtues. Even in the things of common life, the cannot, sometimes signifies nothing but the zcill not. Luke xi. 7- Trouble mt not ; my door is shut, my children are rcith me in bed, I cannot rise to gixe thee ; that is, I will not And with re- gard to faith or believing in Christ, our Saviour explains his own language in this manner. In one place, lie saith, *^ No man can come unto me, except my Father drawr him." John vi. 44. And in another place he charges the Jews with this as their fault. Ye Kill not come unto me, that ye may have life, John v. 40. So in the parable, one ex- cuse is, Luke xiv. 20, 1 have married a ziife, and — / can- not come. All tliese citations intend the same thing, their and the reaion is plain, ^iz. that no new natural powers are given bjr convert- ing grace, but only a change of the moral bent or inclination of the soul, a happier turn giren to our nat'iral faculties by tlie sovei-cign grace of God aiifl liis Spirit. 364 cannot is their rcill not, that is, it is the strength of their aversion to Ciirist, which is a moral impotence or inability to believe in him, and the fault lies in the will. St. Paul speaks to the same purpose, Rom. viii. 7, 8. where he shows that it is the aversion or enmity of the car- nal mind to God, which hinders it from obeying the law of God ; and at last he says it cannot be subject to it. The carnal mind is enmity against God, for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be : so then they who are in the flesh cannot please God. The I'ault still lies in the will of sinful man ; and it is this makes it criminal, while it is naturally impossible to be avoided or overcome. And upon this account^ God is pleased to use moral means and motives; viz. promises, threatenings, commands, &c. towards all men, such as are suited to awaken their hearts, and excite and persuade their will to use all their natural abilities, to set their natural powers or faculties to work, to attend to and learn, and practise faith and jepentonce ; and it is by these very means God persuades his elect powerful- ly to repent arid believe. But when persons will not hear, nor be influenced by these motives, because of their strong and wilful aversion to God and godliness, their cvnne is their own,and their condemnation is just. They have natural powers or faculties in them, which, if well tried, might overcome their native propensity to vice, though they ne- ver will do it. If the great God, in a way of sovereign mercy, gives some persons superior aids of grace to overcome his moral impotence, anil conquer his aversion to God and godliness ; if he eftectually leads, inclines, or persuades them by his Spirit to repent and believe m Christ* ; this does not at all * Wlietlier tlie Spirit of God effectually persuade the will to repent and believe in Clirist, by imraedfate influence upon tlio will ilsclf, or by setting tlie things of the Gospel before the mind in so strong a light, and pei-snadinp; the soul so to attend to them, as shall effectually influence tlie will, this shall not be any of my present debate or determination : for in both these the events and consequences are much the same. There is no new natural poMcr or fa- culty given to the &nul In order to faith and repentance, but ;» divine influence upon the old natural power?, giving them a new and better turn. 365 liincier the others from exercising their natural povvrrs of uiRlerstandin;4 aiiiJ will, in believing; and ie|tenting. Nor call anv ihing of their guilt and williil iijiijcniienre be im- puted to the blessed God, who is Lord ol his own lavours, and gives or withholds wlitie he pleases, and wUo s/ia/I say to him, l\ lii.t doest t/iou V Why should tni/ tijc In- ^12/ toward niv neighbour, because the eye of God is good ^ or what pretence have 1 to charge God with injustice, when he does no more tor me than lie is bound to do, though he does more tor my neighbour than he has done tor mef Let this then be constantly maintained, there is a natu- ral, mward suiUcicncy of powers and taculties given to eveiy sinner, to hearken to the calls and otters of grace and the Gospel, though they lie under a moral impotence: and there is an outward sulticiency of provision of pardon iu the death of Christ for every one who repents and ac- cepts the CJospel, though pardon is not actually procured for all men, nor secured to them. And thus much is suffi- cient to maintain the sincerity of God in his universal of- fers of grace through Jesus Christ, and his present com- mands to all men to repent through Jesus Christ, and his present commands to all men, to repent and trust in his mercy: as well as to vindicate his equity in the last great dav, when the impenitent and unbelievers shall be con- demned. Their death lies at their own doors ; for since there was both an outw ard and inward sufficiency, for their reco- very, the fault must lie in their own iVee will, in their wilful aversion to God and Christ, and his salvation. 1 think that this distinction of natural power and impotence will recon- cile all the various expressions of Scripture on this subject, both to one another, as well as to the reason of things, which can be hardly reconciled any other way. Objection 2. Suppose the non-elect are not debarred from this salvation by the want of natural powers sufficient to receive and accept it, yet, since the great God foresees this their aversion to repentance and holiness, and fore- knows they will never accept of the salvation of Christ, and that as certainl}' as if they had^iheadv ronouneed it : 366 Joes not this future certainty of the event lay an eftectual bar against their beheving and accepting it ? For if they should repent and accept, it wouldcontradict the foreknow- ledge of God. We inquire also further, can his offers of grace be sincere to persons whom he foresees will certainly reject it? What are these offers, but delusions of their hope, and appointed aggravations to increase their guilt, since God certainly knows these offers of grace will be abused only to sinful purposes. Answer 1st. As for the first part of this Inquiry, if we will give ourselves leave to think impartially upon the case, we must agree that the mere knowledge of any event, without any real influence from the power that knows, does not make the event necessary, whether it be foreknown or after-known. If I foreknow the sun will rise to-morrow, that has no more influence on the sun's rising, than m^ after-knowledge that it rose yesterday. Now, the great God, among his unsearchable powers and perfections, has a knowledge of the agency of free causes, as we have of necessary causes. And as he has a full view of all con- comitant circumstances, he hath a way to foresee events in their contingent causes, such as the free will of man is, as well as we have a way, by reason, to foresee many things in their necessary causes. It is certain he does foreknow the iiiture contingent actions of men, even their wicked ac- tions, because he has foretold a multitude of them in the bible ; and it is granted, that from his foreknowledge of any future event, we may infer the consequential certainty of it, because his foreknowledge cannot be deceived : yet this does not at all prove his antecedent determination of it by any decree, nor his influence upon it : neither can we infer from God's mere foreknowledge, that there is any na- tural necessity of the event, since the causes are but con- tingent, such as a man's free will. This distinction be- tween the certamty of a future event, with the consequent necessity of it, derived from God's foreknowledge, and the antecedent necessity of it, derived from the nature of things, or from God's actual pre-determination of it^ 367 Mifliciently solves this difliculty. The first may be, where the second is not. i!d. We have reason to beUcve, tliatthe Gospel is never sent, nor the proposals of salvation made to any people, city, ornation, where God loresecs, there are not any at all that uill accept of it. Now, in the way of God's government of this world, he deals with mankind, as a number ot" free and moral agents, and publishes and offers sincerely his benefits to men in general, promiscuously to the elect, and the non-elect. And while by these same proposals, means, and motives, he efleclually and powerfully gathers his elect out of the icorld, he gives sufficient encouragement to all sinners to accept the same grace. God's secret foreknowledge of those who will not accept it, is by no means a sufficient reason to prevent or forbid the general otfers of his grace to them, because the design of his govern- ment is to treat mankind, as reasonable and moral agents. 3d. There may be valuable and unknown ends and pur- poses in the government of God, attained by his sincere forbidding sin to creatures, whom he knows resolved to practise it; and by his sincere commands of duty to crea- tures, whom he knows resolved to neglect it : and that without any real injury or injustice done to the sinner. The wisdom, holiness, and dignity of his government must be maintained in all the just appearances of it, though sin- ners will rebel against it: for the honour of divine govern- ment, in the authority, wisdom, and holiness of it, is of much more importance than the welfare of ten thousand of his creatures. Let God bt true, saith the Scripture, though every man be a Unr : Rom. iii. 4. Let God appear sincere and wise, glorious and holy, though ever}' man should turn rebel. God may wisely and sincerely publish the doctrines of a salvation, with sufficient light and evidence about them, to those who he knows will not believe them. He may wisely and sincerely offer grace and salvation, t6 those who he foresees will refuse it. Would it be an act of folly, or of injustice, or of untruth, or insincerity, in a wise and good man, to give forth his commands to ten children^ 368 though by all present appearances, his great wlsdQm and sagacity foresees that seven oi them will disi»bey, and only three, coinplj ? Should he not approve himself to the world in doing what is wise and good, and in maintaining his parent- al character, with honour, though some of his sons neglect their filial dnt3'? Hereby he also gives his three obedient children, an opportunity to show their duty and love, thbugh the other seven will take occasion thence to discover their rebellion. The great God, in his government of the world, conducts his unsearchable affairs by such general laws and rules as is most for his honour: and neither his holi- ness nor his goodness make it necessary for him to change this his wise conduct, though he foresees many of his crea- tures will grow vi^oise instead of better by it. 4th. Whether or no we can guess, at any of the reasons of God's government, or conduct in this thing, yet the mat- ter of fact is certain and beyond dispute. God has acted in this manner, and does act thus in many instances. He sent his gospel to the Jews, by his Son Jesus, though he foreknew, and even foretold, by his prophets, that the Jews would reject the gospel, and murder the divine messenger. He gave his word of warning, his call to repentance and righteousness to be preached b}-^ Noah to a wicked worid for ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY YEARS, though he foreknew that very few would be reformed by JSoah's preaching : and he told JNoah, that at the end of tiiose years he would bring a flood over the world, to destro}' the wicked inhabitants of it, who would not be reformed. Again, when he put Adam and Eve into Paradise, under the law of innocence, and forbid them to eat of the fruit of. the tree of knowledge, we also believe that he foreknew that Adam and Eve would eat this fruit, and disobey their Creator: and yet he wisely forbid them to eat it. TvJow since we know that a just God hath in fact done these things, we must confess, there cannot be the least injustice in them. Nay, we may go a step furlhei in these matters of fact. God has actually sent his Son, and his Qospel, with miracles^ and divine evidence, where he knew tliey 3€9 tv'oulJ not be received^ or at most by a very few that is to Choiazin, Capernaum, and Beihsaida, in Galilee : and yet he never sent this gospel with such evidence to Tyre and Sidon/to Sodom and Gomorrah, where Christ tells us, it would have been received, and the inhabitants would have repented in sackcloth and ashes ; Matt. xi. 2 1 . We are sure there is nothing unjust in all this transaction, because we know God has done it, who is righteous in all his ways, and holy in all his works; Ps. exvi. 17- Let us then content ourselves with knowing the things that make for our own peace, and humbly submit to the wise and gracious govern- ment of God, for our own eternal happiness, though we cannot enter into the impenetrable secrets of his council, nor solve all difficulties therein, because our short and narrow view of things cannot comprehend them. And yet, at the same time, if we can, by our reasonings, accord- ing to Scripture, cast any happy gleam of light into these darknesses of Providence, whereby any honour may be done to God, auy imputation of injustice taken off from his conduct, any scruples of mankind satisfied, and any angry contentions removed, it is neither unlawful nor improper to attempt and seek after such advantages. And with this view and hope I would propose the following question. Question 14. Can the different opinions of christians, concerning the operations of divine grace on the souls of men, be reconciled ? The learned author's answer to this question is too lengthy to be introduced. Several notes arc so appropriate to what I have before said, (though I had not known the sentiments of this author when I delivered my own,) that I may now claim to be sheltered under his wings. " It is pity the professed disciples and followers of the religion of Christ, should have been divided into so many different opinions, and thereby given occasions to distinguish them by so many different names, which are chiefly derived cither from their several tenets, or some practice of their forefathers^ or from some signal writers who espoused, de- OtK) icnded, or propagated those different sentiments. 1 could wish with all my soul that they were all of one opinion, and all confined only to the single name of christians, which was given them first at Antioch, to distinguish them from heathens, Jews, and infidels of every kind. But since there are such multitudes of different sentiments among them, and in writing controversies one cannot coveniently use a long periphrasis to describe each of them, sufficient to dis- tinguish them from the re&t, we are constrained to make use of those names by which they have either distinguished tliemselves, or the world hath distinguished them, such as Pelijgians, strict Calvinists, Arminians or llemonstrants, and moderate Calvinists or Reconcilers, But here let it be observed, that the most rigid Calvinists, who pretend to carry the doctrines of divine grace to tlie greatest height of resistless and sovereign efficiency, and the Pelagians, who generally reduce it to the lowest de- gree, that is, to mere favourable outward providences, are accounted the two extremes in this controversy ahoul divine grace. And between these two, there are almost as many degrees and classes of different sentiments as there are wri- ters. Some of them approach a little nearer to tlie one side, and some to the other : and it is not fit that any per- sons should be comprehended under any of the names, but which they themselves allow or choose, according as they come nearest to the opinions of this or the other part}'." " Though some of this class (rigid Calvinists) of writers use the word irresistible, yet others of them dislike it, be- cause the subjects of this grace may and sometimes do re- sist the operations of this grace and spirit for a considerble time, but at last it must overcome, and therefore they choose to call it insuperable." "See the remonstrances of those who opposed the synod of Dort, whereby they plainly distinguish their opinions from the Pelagians, and use this language which I have here represented. I wish all those christians in our age and nation, who profess to follow the opinions of the Rcmon- Ol 1 strants, did but come so near to the doctrines of scripture as tlie phrases and expressions of these men import." *'In representing the Calvinist and the Arminian schemes, I am not sensible that I have ascribed any one opinion to either of them, but what I am supported in, by John Cal- vin, and Francis Turretine, on one side, and Pliilip Lim- borch, and the Remonstrants of the Synod of Dort on the other side. 1 grant it lias been too often the practice of controversial writers on the Calvinist side, to represent the Arminians in the Pelagian form. And the writers of the Arminian party have again represented the Calvinists in the form of Supralapsaiians and Antinomians. But this is the way to widen the divisions of the christian world, and inflame the spirits of men against their brethren, and not to reconcile them." Dr Walts was the author of an Essay on the Freedom of the Will in God and in Creatures : in which he advocates the ideas of the Remonstrants respecting the Ireedom of the will, which the first president Edwards says is an Armi- iiian doctrine ; but he does not call Dr. Watts an Arminian ; as will appear from the quotation I have heretofore made, from his preface to the freedom of the will. \ m r.c ♦■■■■^i^ \